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2014: The Year Television Kicked The Movies’ Ass

Television continues to be the narrative televisual storytelling medium par excellence. It allows you to identify traits with human faces over a longer period of time, instead of for two hours, and thereby more easily dupes you into believing fictional people exist.

Game Of Thrones

This year Game of Thrones continued to get better and better at being subtly modern, showing us a world in which major problems are ignored for short-term politics. It was nowhere near The Wire, but still unique in using the medium to create a complex, multilayered world, more than any large scale cinematic shared universe. The show’s problems continue to be its backwards treatment of women and women’s bodies. Women are naked in traditional male gaze fashion, while penises are mostly off limits. Elsewhere, the show added a sexual assault to the adapted storyline and seemed to be confused about whether there actually was one and why it was there. The director and showrunners gave different answers in interviews, and the character in question blithely pursued his heroic arc.

True Detective

True Detective also had problems writing its female characters, but was distinguished by a beautiful opening credits sequence and fun Matthew McConaughey monologues set in a generically miserable Louisiana. McConaughey’s philosophy wasn’t anything you couldn’t find on the atheist section of Reddit, but it was operatic, poetic and accurate. Almost everyone else around him was cardboard. The series undercut this exciting pessimism by ending with action scenes and hope, not horror, with all the resounding tonal shift of a wet fart.

Orange Is The New Black

The show that was best at humanizing even its most minor characters was Orange Is The New Black. Although it may not be the most accurate depiction of the prison industrial complex, wherein we throw everyone possible in prison and make money off it, it certainly stressed the dehumanization of our system and treated the prison population with empathy. Despite all the stand-up routine style jokes, that made it a political show. Those politics were a rarity even as mainstream attention to the way police and prisons can treat civilians (murderously or corruptly) came to the forefront of newscycles this year. Television is a landscape of cops eternally breaking rules to throw criminals away. As public discourse changes, media companies sometimes allow politics that actually concern us to appear on our screens, and this is an example.

Probably my favorite cringeworthy horrible show of our modern era, 24, a show that actively and aggressively tried to act as an apologia for torture and once cast Janeane Garofalo so that its main character could yell at her, returned this year, as stupid as ever. The few episodes I watched seemed slightly more tasteful and less likely to suggest that torturing the hell out of someone is a superheroic act, but it had also lost its campy, 80’s action movie vibe.

Agents Of Shield

A lot of shows are mostly concerned with cross promotion —for example, Gotham which was mainly meaningless call-forwards to Batman characters. Marvel’s Agents of SHIELD had the 24 aspect of praising rule-breaking government agents with no oversight, but when it tried to be morally gray it just came off creepy. It got better this year, but was still most clear about its goals when advertising other products or films.

A procedural I did like was Happy Valley, a Netflix British import, because of the strength of its acting and writing, with only a little War on Drugs paranoia thrown in.

Attack On Titan

Other standouts included the anime Attack on Titan, widely available in the U.S. this year. The actual writing was horrible but whenever its overtly psychological monsters appeared it was wonderful. Hannibals Grand Guignol improved its procedural, and Transparent took Jeffery Tambor’s crossdressing from Arrested Development and remixed it humanely into the story of a transgender woman coming out to her family.

Black Mirror

Another import, Black Mirror, was accessible previously in the U.S., but just became available to most U.S. consumers via Netflix less than a month ago. Its scant six episodes are nice modern Twilight Zone parables, none better than the science fiction worldbuilding in “Fifteen Million Merits,” which dramatizes how the emptiness in working towards buying meaningless things does not go away when consumers recognize it. A consumerist system persists because it is easy to co-opt rebellion against it as a critique. Here, that means a dystopian society composed of people looking at computer screens from elliptical bikes get no catharsis when they watch an America’s Got Talent show. Their attempts to disrupt it only upgrade its edginess.
In terms of direct politics, one half of Comedy Central’s continuous critique of mainstream news, Stephen Colbert, abdicated for CBS. Given how David Letterman lost most of his verve upon decamping there, it is not a good sign. Meanwhile Aaron Sorkin’s humorless but passionate retelling of news from a few years ago, The Newsroom, finally died. From what I’ve seen of the show it seemed to be so mired in Sorkin’s voice that its political opponents were strawmen.

Finally, one of America’s most beloved television dads was revealed to be a serial rapist. This was a fact long ago: we’re just learning it. It is better to know, and for a corrupt, powerful person to be shamed if they cannot be prosecuted. His downfall was brought about in part because his handlers did not understand how new media works. For as long as it takes them to learn it, the world will change.

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Film Features Film/TV

Guardians of the Galaxy

Guardians of the Galaxy

I’ve long been of the opinion that the comic book movie hot streak would be over once all of the big superheroes the mainstream public has heard of — the likes of Batman, Spider-Man, and Captain America — were exhausted and movie companies were forced to get around to the C- and D-list titles on the comic book newsstand. Once fly-over America got a taste of the utter nerdiness of the Blue Beetle or Dazzler, the gig would be up. Because the truth is that even the great comic titles feature weird plotlines (explain Crisis on Infinite Earths to a non-nerd and see what happens) and goofy villains (Captain Boomerang? Egghead?).

So, when Marvel announced the movie version of Guardians of the Galaxy, a space adventure co-starring, among other things, a talking raccoon and a sentient tree, I thought: Here it is; the end of the run for the nerds and the regression toward the mean after the blaze in recent history for comic book cinema.

And, after having seen Guardians of the Galaxy, one of the patrons that led to a colossal, $94.3 million weekend, I must admit: I was so, so wrong — and damn glad to be so.

Guardians of the Galaxy is based on comic book characters introduced in the 1960s and ’70s. That’s how you get the strange mix of principals such as the raccoon (Rocket) and tree (Groot), plus a revenge-minded alien who doesn’t understand metaphor (Drax the Destroyer), a weaponized green-skinned babe (Gamora), and, leading them all, an earthling space cowboy who is hard to take seriously (he wants you to call him Star-Lord). But the story is based on a Marvel series from the last decade, so the misfits are banded together with a self-awareness that takes the form of extreme wit, satire, and charm.

The film starts on earth in 1988. Young Peter Quill has just watched his mom die, and then he’s abducted by a UFO. Jump ahead 26 years, and Quill (Chris Pratt) has fashioned himself as an intergalactic thief/plunderer/adventurer named Star-Lord. If he reminds you of Han Solo or Indiana Jones, that’s because Quill is knowingly modeling himself after them. Because he was taken from terra firma when he was, and since he never returned, Quill is locked into place as a child of the ’80s. His most valued possession is a Walkman and the cassette tape his mom made for him, “Awesome Mix Volume 1.” The movie fashions such contextual mashups as fighting alien varmints to the sounds of Redbone’s “Come and Get Your Love” and a prison escape sequence set to “The Piña Colada Song.”

The cultural references do some heavy lifting to set the stage for the film’s charm, but the follow-through is with the characters. Pratt is as completely lovable as a dashing but bumbling alpha male; Zoe Saldana effortlessly sells the frosty assassin-with-a-heart-of-gold Gamora; Dave Bautista steals the show as the hulking, sober Drax the Destroyer, who wants nothing more than to kill his enemies; Bradley Cooper provides the voice for Rocket, a wise-cracking, intelligent anthropomorphic rodent who overcompensates for his size with big guns and elaborate plans; and Vin Diesel voices Groot, the ineffably sweet but powerful tree creature who expresses himself through three words only: “I am Groot.” (And, yes, the joke must be made: It’s a role that captures the limits of Diesel’s acting range.)

The ragtag bunch makes for a more compelling team-up than the recent Avengers film. It’s surprising, but maybe it shouldn’t be. Cleared of having to shoulder so many all-stars, Guardians of the Galaxy can enjoy the ride more than Avengers could. Plus, Guardians‘ writer/director James Gunn is a significantly better filmmaker than Joss Whedon.

Put it all together, and Marvel serves up a completely winning product, no matter how unlikely: a freak out in a moonage daydream that frees the film genre of its recent seriousness. I don’t care anymore that the nerds have won, so long as they keep it up with more films like this.

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Film Features Film/TV

The Amazing Spider-Man 2

If you’ve seen one Spider-Man origin story, you’ve seen them all. At least, that was the thinking behind why I never got around to watching anything more than bits and pieces of The Amazing Spider-Man, the Marc Webb/Andrew Garfield/Emma Stone 2012 reboot of the Sam Raimi/Tobey Maguire/Kirsten Dunst 2002-2007 film trilogy, itself natch an adaptation of the popular 1962 – present comic book series.

Spider-Man hangs out

My lack of interest wasn’t a knock on the appeal of the film, because I really really like Garfield (Never Let Me Go); I like Webb ((500) Days of Summer); and I possibly love Stone (Crazy, Stupid, Love). Instead, my not seeing The Amazing Spider-Man was because I just can’t keep up anymore with these comic book movie origin stories. I’m utterly fatigued.

Origins are the most overrated — or, the most over-emphasized — thing about comics. Apart from early issues in a series or occasional critical flashbacks, origin stories aren’t a part of the process or ongoing appeal of mainstream comics. You need to know Bruce Wayne’s parents were murdered in front of him, but you don’t need to be told that every time he suits up to go punch the Riddler.

The comics medium has hammered out an appropriate ratio of origin to story. The comics-in-film medium decidedly has not: Marvel and DC films hemorrhage origin stories. The device at its most tediously redundant has Peter Parker bitten again by an arachnid in The Amazing Spider-Man and Superman’s Kryptonian-Kansas upbringing retold in last year’s Man of Steel. It means we’re subjected to an energy-neutral Thor film until he finally holds the hammer in the last 15 minutes, a moment of too-long-delayed orgiastic joy. In next year’s Fantastic Four reboot, no doubt we’ll have to witness another belabored cosmic ray exposure before being allowed to enjoy some be-flamed action.

Peter (Andrew Garfield) and Harry Osborn (Dane DeHaan) ponder mortality

When comic book films do this, it is of course because they have on their hands a built-in audience and a guaranteed box office success, and they want to prolong the tale they have to tell for as long as they can to ensure as many “safe” sequels as possible. An origin story doesn’t intrinsically have to be a delaying tactic. Consider Christopher Nolan’s commitment to the task in Batman Begins, where he asserts that the one pivotal moment where everything changes is far less interesting than the resultant psychological ramifications.

That’s a long way of saying I didn’t go out of my way to see The Amazing Spider-Man but happily consumed The Amazing Spider-Man 2. A visit to Wikipedia beforehand was more than adequate to get the plot particulars of the first film. Comically enough, the sequel very much has one foot in its origin.

The film starts with a recap of the last film: seriously. But before long it uses that regurgitation to trampoline into new plot points. Turns out, Peter’s parents (Campbell Scott and Embeth Davidtz) were hunted by Oscorp operatives but secreted away the truth of what they had discovered before they were killed. It’s a genuinely poignant scene, followed by a genuinely exhilarating one: Spider-Man slicing down city canyons with a whoop, pursuing a criminal and enjoying the chase. The tension in the sequence comes not from the Adidas-tracksuit-wearing bad guy, Aleksei Sytsevich (Paul Giamatti), who has commandeered an Oscorp truck carrying plutonium and is being pursued by all of the NYPD, nor from Spider-Man’s near-death rescue of a pedestrian, Max Dillon (Jamie Foxx), but from the ticking clock of whether or not Peter can do all this and still make his graduation in time to hear his girlfriend Gwen Stacy’s (Stone) valedictorian speech.

Gwen Stacy (Emma Stone) hangs by a silk thread

Peter loves Gwen but promised her dad (Denis Leary) before he died he wouldn’t endanger her life, so the couple breaks up; it makes Peter want to go jump off a building. Peter is reunited with his old buddy, Harry Osborn (Dane DeHaan), but both young men are troubled by the legacies of dead father figures. The Amazing Spider-Man 2 continuously alternates these currents of dark and light moments, and Webb handles the switches with skill. It’s one of the best things about the film, and is ultimately what the film is about.

In addition to the aforementioned, the film services the needs of characters such as Peter’s Aunt May (Sally Field) and Oscorp functionaries Norman Osborn (Chris Cooper, maniacal laugh), Felicia (Felicity Jones), Smythe (B. J. Novak), and Menken (Colm Feore) — all of them plus the super-villainous transformations of Max into Electro, Harry into Green Goblin, and Aleksei into Rhino. If all that sounds like 10 pounds of shit in a five-pound bag, well, sometimes it is. It makes up for it with an extra-long runtime. You may or may not see that as a positive.

The short end of the stick goes to Foxx, whose Electro effects and goofy psychosis is just too much. DeHaan fares much better in the script, and he brings to the table Leonardo DiCaprio’s looks and Brad Pitt’s voice. It’s a strange combo.

Spider-Man does whatever a spider can

Rising above it all is the chemistry between Garfield and Stone. They take their dialogue and deliver awkward line readings that sound spontaneous rather than scripted. Vive le Peter/Gwen.

The Amazing Spider-Man 2
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