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Hey, remember last year when I listed my top ten shows of 2013?  Well, time is one cruel (flat-chested, if Rust Cohle is to be believed) mistress, so I must now expound on the best shows of 2014.  It was a pretty quick year, wouldn’t you reckon?  I mean, television assaulted us from so many angles that I’m surprised I managed to find the time to, you know, engage in human contact with others.

In addition to the standard networks pumping out the goods, reliable cable and streaming providers, like HBO, Showtime, FX, AMC, and Netflix, found themselves engaged in veritable fisticuffs with the likes of Amazon Prime, Starz, and Cinemax, all three of whom made their presences known as equally capable of delivering outstanding programming.  That all adds up to excellent news for consumers–inundated as we’ve been with brilliant television–but also comprises an overwhelming crop of shows from which to select.

There’s no way to watch everything out there these days, so any list therefore feels incomplete.  For instance, I never got around to shows like Broad City or Review, though they’re very much on my radar and might even have landed in my top ten.  But even when it comes to the shows I do watch, ten hardly seems like enough slots to fill in this era of television excellence.  And yet, I tried my best to do just that after much deliberation and reflection.

Top 10 Television Shows of 2014:

1) Fargo (FX)

2) Transparent (Amazon)

3) Game of Thrones (HBO)

4) The Americans (FX)

5) True Detective (HBO)

6) The Good Wife (CBS)

7) Silicon Valley (HBO)

8) Louie (FX)

9) Veep (HBO)

10) Shameless (Showtime)

Honorable Mentions: The Comeback, Hello Ladies, Southcliffe, Orange is the New Black, Parks and Recreation, Parenthood, Person of Interest, Boardwalk Empire, You’re the Worst, Nurse Jackie, Masters of Sex, Homeland, Banshee, Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, In the Flesh, The Affair, Sherlock, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Enlisted, Penny Dreadful, Outlander, The Mindy Project, and Serial

 

Spotlight – Transparent

The spiritual successor to the all-time great Six Feet Under, creator and SFU alumna Jill Soloway’s Transparent is an achingly beautiful and bitingly funny dramedy that also happens to be Amazon’s first taste of prestige television.  For a show grounded in topics of gender and sexual identity, Transparent is a brilliantly universal series plumbing the depths of melancholy and uncertainty that plague us all.  Jeffrey Tambor (recent Golden Globe winner) is a revelation as the show’s centerpiece, Maura Pfefferman, the one-time patriarch who bravely comes out to her trio of children as trans.  To say anything else about this series would be to spoil its myriad delights, but suffice it to say that if you stream one series in the course of your viewing, it had better be this one.

 

Did I miss the mark or omit your favorite show?  Let me know! #accidentalrhyme

I’m just going to come right out and say it: 2014 was one cruel mistress from a television standpoint as show after show found itself signing off permanently, either at its own artistic behest or at the mercy of a studio mandate.  Maybe the number of series finales I encountered this year was not disproportionately larger than any other, but it sure felt like it.  Then again, maybe I still haven’t recovered from losing Breaking Bad in 2013 because the wound is still totally fresh, man.

Below is a list of finales I watched this year that I have neither ranked nor arranged in any particular order.  Some series hit the mark and ended on a high note, while others threatened to besmirch (#bringingitback) all that came before it.

One last thing: as of this writing, I still have not watched the final season of Boardwalk Empire, so its omission from this list is not an oversight but a reflection of my overcrowded viewing schedule. Oh, and spoilers below because duh.

 

How I Met Your Mother

This episode is contentious as all get-out, and if you were amongst those overwhelmed with such rage that you briefly flirted with the fantasy of cramming that blue French horn up Ted Mosby’s pooper, then nothing I’ll write here will dissuade you.  Still, hear me out.

I, for one, had no real issue with Ted and Robin ending up together.  There, I said it, and you know what?  It feels good to unburden myself.  Those who decried this (admit it) inevitable coupling as evidence that Ted never loved the Mother is complete malarky (#bringingitback).  I mean, isn’t it possible to love more than one person over the course of your lifetime?  I also didn’t mind–aside from the criminal shortchanging of Cristin Milioti–that the Mother died.  At least it gave the overall story, as implausible as it became, some context.

Having said all that, I did take issue with how we arrived at those places.  If Barney and Robin were doomed from the start, as we all assumed they would be, then why on earth torment us by staging the entire final season around this event?  It felt like a waste of time for the characters but, more important, for us.  What bugs me about this kind of recursive storytelling is that How I Met You Mother so desperately wanted Ted and Robin to end up together that they manipulated their story to arrive there, rather than letting the story dictate the ending.

We felt cheated, we felt manipulated, we felt betrayed, but that has less to do with Ted and Robin and more with how they got together; actually, I have a sneaking suspicion that a more nuanced touch would have made this whole thing a helluva lot easier to swallow.

Grade: C  

 

True Blood

So, wait.  Sookie euthanizes Bill before the Hep V can claim him, and then winds up with some unknown dude that isn’t Alcide, Eric, or Sam?  Setting aside the finale’s conflicted–not to mention irresponsible–handling of Bill’s suicidal ideations in its closing hour, I can’t think of an ender that left me more unsatisfied this year.

From the unrelenting insistence that Hoyt and Jessica were destined to be together to Lafayette’s wordless cameo-sized appearance, everything in this last episode seemed to distill showrunner Brian Buckner’s complete failure to understand these characters.

For a show about banging and blood-sucking, the grim tone of the final hour did little to energize the proceedings, and then the saccharine-sweet coda on Sookie’s front lawn felt like an injection of insulin to the eyeballs, and not in a good way.  Really, this odd juxtaposition just proved that Buckner’s vision had no focus and, worse, no real purpose.  Irredeemable tripe.

Grade: F

 

Hello, Ladies

In opting to focus on Stuart’s acceptance of his feelings for Jessica, this feature-length finale wisely recognized that the most satisfying conclusions prioritize emotional payoff over plotting, and we received that in abundance here.

Stuart abandons his aspirations of living a playboy lifestyle when he realizes it’s time to grow up; Wade has a romantic future with a great new lady; Jessica questions the reality of her dreams.  All of this worked so well as the episode capitalized on the expanded running time to explore the inner lives of these characters.  In doing this, the comedy popped brilliantly, from Stuart’s awkward meet-and-greet with Nicole Kidman to his first time sleeping with Jessica.

I laughed; I cringed; I beamed; I even clapped when the credits rolled.  This is Hello, Ladies after all, and Stephen Merchant wisely understood that, for all his pomposity and arrogance, Stuart is a character we rooted for.  And, in giving our protagonist the ending he–and we–needed, Merchant validated and rewarded our emotional investment.

Hyperbole warning: my favorite series finale of the year.

Grade: A

 

Sons of Anarchy

Kurt Sutter gave us the only ending that would have made any sense in Jax’s death.  But, dammit, did this thing have to feel all so…silly?  As if the swooping crows (GET IT?) weren’t obvious enough, Jax actually let go of his motorcycle and spread his arms as if to hug the oncoming tractor trailer–driven, of course, by the same trucker Gemma (#vicmackeytruck) befriended earlier because it’s ALL CONNECTED, MAN!  And then, to top it off, the shot of the wine-soaked bread lying on the ground as it sops up Jax’s pooling blood actually made me chuckle aloud.

Because here’s the problem: Jax’s decision to kill himself is in no way a heroic act, but the episode went out of its way to suggest just that. No, Jax is a coward, not a martyr.  And it is because Sutter was hell-bent on leaving us with an image of heroism for a character that didn’t deserve it that this came off as bloated and silly.  So, right destination but the wrong route to get there.

Hey, at least Nero made it out alive.

Grade: B-

 

Californication

You and I both know that Californication ran its course two or three seasons ago, so I find it somewhat miraculous that I walked away from this finale moderately pleased.

The last episode couldn’t evade the central will-they-won’t-they tension between Hank and Karen, even if the fact that they would end up together–again–at least in a temporary sense felt like a foregone conclusion.  I mean, sure, the final scene of Hank reading the letter to Karen on the plane essentially functions as a retread of the season one finale, except this time they’re flying off into the sunset instead of driving, but Duchovny, as always, played the scene so perfectly, we can almost forgive the rehash.

Other stuff happened throughout the episode, but who cares, really?  This was Hank’s show, and Hank’s audience was and always will be Karen.  In the end, the episode didn’t botch the landing, but it didn’t wow me either, so I’d classify this is staunchly average, which given the show’s steady decline in quality over the past several years, is far more than I expected.

Grade: C+

 

Wilfred

After four seasons of psychologically warped comedy, Wilfred answered the only question that mattered: What is Wilfred?  Sure, we all pretty much expected him to be a product of Ryan’s imagination at this point, but somehow that didn’t lessen the satisfaction felt upon discovering  that was the case.  Although this show thrived in the bizarre, it never really begged for a twist ending, so in the end, Wilfred‘s central friendship between man and imaginary dog evolved into a sort of brilliant character study and exploration of Ryan’s psyche.

This show never stood a chance with attracting a wide audience, but for those of us smitten by the strange tale, we found ourselves more than rewarded by its conclusion.  We have hope for Ryan and, by extension, hope that we can one day grow into ourselves as comfortably and unapologetically as he has by the time the credits roll.  Who could’ve possibly expected that from a show about a guy in a dog costume that humps a giant stuffed bear?  Not me, that’s for sure, but I sure am glad I was along for the ride. #innuendo

Grade: A-

 

Raising Hope

Not much to say here, except that, always a sucker for this show, I found myself delighted by the finale’s closing image of the Chance family gathered around the kitchen table as hilariously dysfunctional as ever.  Fortunately for us, the episode–which the showrunners thankfully shot as an expected series finale given the ratings decline and FOX’s episode burn-off–left nothing of note dangling.  And yes, I imagine Burt bursting out laughing at that last sentence.

The Chances are going to be all right, and, for this huge fan at least, that’s enough.

Grade: B+

 

Newsroom

After a brilliant pilot, Newsroom‘s wildly inconsistent run ranged from entertaining at best to damn near unwatchable at worst.  Needless to say, I entered into this truncated final season with more than just a dollop of trepidation for what Sorkin had in store for us.  Color me surprised to discover a reinvigorated show that pulsated with urgent narrative life.  Sure, it wasn’t perfect by any stretch, but things seemed headed in the right direction, so that when Charlie died in the penultimate episode, that impacted me more than I expected. I was pleased that Newsroom opted to slow the tempo in its final introspective hour as it revealed Charlie as the grand puppeteer behind News Night.

Lambast Sorkin for his paper-thin characterizations all you want, but Jeff Daniels, Emily Mortimer, and Sam Waterston almost made Sorkin’s didactic speechifying work over the years based on the sheer relentlessness of their performances, and Sorkin wisely put these three front and center.  I suppose detailing Charlie’s plan to get the gang together seemed like a fitting enough send off, though I took exception to the inadvertent side effect of this story: Charlie Skinner comes across less like a journalistic visionary and more like a rapscallion of a matchmaker.  This kind of reductive characterization just isn’t fair.  Your bad, Sorkin!

Still, Will’s going to be a papa, Mac’s going to be the new Charlie after Leona works a PR angle with the douchy new CEO, and Neil’s going to get the website back on track now that he’s returned from his sabbatical/evasion of federal authorities.  On the relationship side of things, Jim and Maggie are going to give long distance a try, and Sloane reveals she has had feeling for Don all along, so theirs is a destiny writ in the stars or some such.  Aww.  #toocute

In the end, this finale worked better than it had any right to.  But the episode’s centerpiece scene, Will jamming out with Charlie’s grandsons and Jim to “That’s How I Got to Memphis,” encapsulated the experience of watching Newsroom for me: cool as it could be, it was never the unequivocal triumph that Sorkin so desperately tried to convince us it was.

Grade: B

 

The Bridge

The time between seasons served FX’s The Bridge quite well.  After a freshman year of weirdness for weirdness’s sake and a serial killer plot that devolved into eye-rolling cliche, it finally delivered on its narrative promise as introduced in the pilot when, in season two, American-Mexican relations–and the ramifications of maintaining them–took center stage.  Unfortunately, despite the uptick in quality, the viewership hit an all-time nadir, and FX had no choice but to take the plunge and cancel it. #punintended

Still, Marco Ruiz held onto his morality when he opted to turn his childhood friend/cartel leader Fausto into the authorities rather than killing him, so this provided enough closure for me.  Sure, this ending felt more like the conclusion to one chapter in a much larger saga that The Bridge might have one day hoped to tell, but I’ll take what I can get.

And hey, at least Annabeth Gish’s Charlotte didn’t make it out alive.  Seriously, she was #theworst.

Grade: B

 

 

Well, that’s it, folks.  Everything comes to an end, even obligatory television lists, so enjoy ’em while you got ’em.  #thefactsoflife  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an entire season of Boardwalk Empire to marathon…

Was it just me or did you also hear the sound of a distant blood-curdling scream this morning at about 8:30?  Because if you did, don’t be alarmed; it was just the collective howl of snubbed actors and actresses not hearing their names called during the announcement of the 2015 Golden Globes nominations.  As we know all too well, it wouldn’t be an awards show without our requisite griping about snubs–and there’s plenty to bemoan–but the Hollywood Foreign Press Association had a few tricks up its sleeves this year, particularly on the television side of things*.  Big shows found themselves shut out entirely, while a crop of newbies snuck their way into Hollywood’s drunkest awards night!  Good for you newbies!

*Full disclosure: currently, I’m woefully behind on the film nominees, so I’m not going to speak to those at this time, save for this little truth bomb: the overall slighting of Whiplash (save for JK Simmons’s Best Supporting Actor nod) is absurd.

Life lessons can come from the darnedest places, and wouldn’t you know that I found five of them just perusing through the nominees?  Well, enough of this prefatory nonsense!  Let’s get to the good stuff.

 

Life Lesson #1: You Will Be Punished For Success

Brooklyn Nine-Nine.  Andy Samberg.  Amy Poehler.  These three defending Golden Globes champs didn’t even earn a token nomination this year, and Amy Poehler is co-hosting this damn event.  Fear not, though! Jon Voight–whose skin-crawling performance in Ray Donovan already deprived Josh Charles of his deserved trophy for his turn in The Good Wife last year–heard his name called again this time around because, basically, life is meaningless and empty.  #putitonachristmascard

Still, the HFPA didn’t hold back here and, in direct opposition with the spirit of the season, instead wants to tell us that, sure, being good might tickle Santa’s Christmas pickle, but pride also cometh before the fall.  Once you’ve reached the top, there’s only one place to go, so  instead, let’s strive for mediocrity.  Hey, it’s been working out swell for House of Cards so far!  Insert Miles Teller Whiplash** style rimshot here.

**No, I most certainly will not let it go.  I’m sorry I’m not sorry.

 

Life Lesson #2: Your Friends Will Turn On You Viciously and All At Once When You Least Expect It

Look, I’ve come down with a chronic case of Modern Family fatigue just like the rest of you.  I still love the show, but does it need the ubiquitous–not to mention uninterrupted–onslaught of trophies it’s been raking in for five years?  Definitely not, but damn this thing escalated quickly!  After a plethora of SAG nods yesterday, the HFPA straight up bulldozed Modern Family and shut the show out entirely like a bully locking some dweeb in the janitor’s closet.    That’ll give Manny something to think about on his evening constitutional, that’s for sure.

The same shutout happened to The Big Bang Theory, for what it’s worth, but if the critical love for that lowest-common-denominator show has reached its expiration date, then I won’t complain.

Either way, the message is clear, ladies and gentlemen: don’t have any confidence in those who claim to support you as your friends because, sooner rather than later, they will drop you like sack of sprouted potatoes and run to the newest, hottest thing around.  Friendship is dead.  Thanks, Golden Globes!

 

Life Lesson #3: The Squeaky Wheel Gets Sh*t Done

Girls has never capitalized on its promise since its successful inaugural season.  Sure, the third made a significant improvement over the virtually-unwatchable second, but that doesn’t mean it’s anywhere near the quality of fellow nominees Orange Is the New Black, Silicon Valley, or Transparent.  Hell, from what I’m reading about newcomer Jane the Virgin*** it can’t hold a candle to that show, either, though I’ve never seen it.  That’s to say nothing of the fact that it is touted as superior in quality to Louie, Veep, Parks and Rec, and Brooklyn Nine-Nine, which of course it isn’t.

***See what I did there? #innuendo

But then in nominating the series and Lena Dunham (but not the show’s biggest talent, Adam Driver), it’s clear that Dunham’s polarizing presence, and not the show itself, snagged the nods.  She’s everywhere, she’s controversial, and everyone knows her name.  Neither Dunham nor the show are remotely deserving, but the HFPA has taught us something important: recognition evades the timid.  Be loud and be proud; even if you’re not deserving of accolades, they will shower you just because everyone in the room can hear you.

 

Life Lesson #4: Don’t Try To Be Someone You’re Not

We know it and the HFPA knows it: if the Oscars are your stuffy, pretentious uncle, then the Globes translate to your wild, hard-partying cousin.  In fact, the one reason I enjoy the Globes so much is because of its comparative looseness: it nominates the newbies, it celebrates the less conventional, and it doesn’t take itself too seriously.

But then it goes and nominates undeserving shows like Downton‘s lackluster fourth season or House of Cards‘s deadeningly repetitive second because they seem like more “prestigious” fare?  Puh-lease.  House of Cards isn’t even one of Netflix’s five best shows, let alone in the upper echelon of all of TV.  If you’re going to celebrate a major drama, how about The Americans?  Hello?  Anybody?  Where’d you guys go?

Stick with your guns, Globes, and honor shows like the surprisingly excellent The Affair!  Is it one of the best shows on television?  No, but who cares?  That’s what you do!  You do weird stuff because you want to flout convention!  That’s why we love you.  Don’t turn this into the Emmys.  DON’T. YOU. DARE. #emptythreat #notanemptythreat

We roll our eyes at the inclusion of these nominees because it’s so out of character for our drunken cousin to rely on business as usual; the Globes are here to shake things up, so learn from the mistake: don’t try to be someone you’re not.  If you’re a Golden Globe, then don’t try to convince anyone you’re an Emmy, and vice versa.  It’s just sad.

 

Life Lesson #5: Don’t Be Afraid To Tell It Like It Is

“No, you sit down and hesh up, True Detective!”  the HFPA shouted over the din.  “You are a mini-series, and that’s that!  Yeah, deal with it!  What was that, McConaughey?  I’ll tell you where to stick that flat circle!”  This is how I’d like to imagine this is all went down as the Globes set people straight following the bizarre Emmy nominee assignations earlier this year.  Now, if only they could do something about those catch-all Supporting Actor/Actress in a Series, Mini-Series, TV Movie, Home Video, Vine Compilation categories.

Don’t let the bullies of the world knock you around is the lesson here!    When you’re right, speak your mind!  Fight the power!

 

Well, that’s what I learned.  Did I miss any crucial life lessons?  Let me know, and remember to tune in to the Golden Globes on Sunday, January 11th at 8pm on NBC!

Ho, ho, ho!  After a two-month long hibernation, I am here to bestow upon you an early Christmas present.  I don’t want to make a big deal out of my glorious return or anything, but I’m pretty much the television blogger’s Santa Claus, except I won’t break into your house in the dead of night to reward you with presents for being good all year…Wait a minute, you guys, is Santa Claus a sociopath?

Either way, ’tis the season, ladies and gentlemen, and you know what that means: walking past Salvation Army Santas while you pretend to take a call on your cell phone.  But you know what else it means? Christmas themed episodes!  As our favorite shows sign off temporarily for a several week winter hiatus, they like to leave behind a little something to keep us warm and cozy all through the night.  I’ve listed five of my all-time favorite Christmas-themed episodes in alphabetical order below, installments that never cease to get me in the spirit.  Very few–if any–of these would end up other critics’ similarly compiled lists, but for those of us looking for a less conventional yuletide diversion, look no further.

 

Arrested Development, “Afternoon Delight”

Yes, the episode’s title is a direct reference to the Starland song, and yes, Michael Bluth and Maeby sing it during an office Christmas party karaoke session.   But uncle and niece accidentally crooning the classic sex ballad to one another is just the tip of the festive iceberg.

Because, after all, what’s better than one Christmas party?  Two Christmas parties, duh.  And that one’s a doozy: Lucille–having accidentally imbibed Oscar’s “Afternoon Deelite”–mows down her son-in-law Tobias (who earlier “blue” himself in the hopes of getting a call from the Blue Man Group) and Buster drops a banana-suit wearing G.O.B. from a crane.  I love how this episode uses the Christmas holiday to reveal the not-so-wholesome side to the Bluth clan, resulting in a hilarious twenty-three minutes.

 

Homicide: Life on the Street, “All Through the House”

In typical Homicide fashion, this third season episode manages to walk a tonal tightrope: this time, one that is equal parts melancholy and hope as the detectives find themselves on night duty on Christmas Eve.  Munch and Bolander investigate the murder of a man in a Santa suit, leading Munch to spend the evening with the little boy they presume is the victim’s son.  Felton buys his children Christmas presents despite not knowing where his ex-wife has absconded to with them, and Bayliss, ever the romantic, wanders through the squad room looking for someone to play hearts with him. #metaphor

But it’s the episode’s insistence on humor and pathos in the face of such grimness that makes this such a great installment.  The detectives take turns criticizing the decoration of the tree in the precinct before launching into an impromptu snowball fight as Christmas day breaks across Baltimore, and Pembleton manages to summarize the meaning of the holiday in his typically curmudgeonly style, none too happy to be on duty: “I miss my wife.  I miss my fireplace.  I miss Nat King Cole.”  It’s brilliant; it’s sad; it’s funny; it’s Homicide refusing to cave to conventions while still remaining true to the spirit of the season.

 

It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, “A Very Sunny Christmas”

Mac and Charlie delve into the origins of their holiday traditions to discover that most of them are entrenched in illegal and/or duplicitous activity.  Don’t let the chipper time of year fool you; this episode is still Sunny at its misanthropic best as the gang tries to dole out heaping spoonfuls of Christmas cheer as only they can, including but not limited to drunken caroling and chucking rocks at passing trains.

Oh, and you’ll see one of the funniest sight gags the show’s ever done as Frank’s humiliation reaches new lows:  in a room full of people celebrating the holiday, he crawls naked from the couch he’s been hiding in to eavesdrop.  This might make me the worst person ever, but this Sunny is a must-watch staple to warm me every December.

 

The League of Gentlemen, “Christmas Special”

League of Gentlemen certainly qualifies as the most esoteric show on this list, so unless you’ve seen the show and are familiar with its zany characters, it will mean very little to you if I were to expound on how the League uses the expanded running time to delve more deeply into fan favorite characters like the world’s most unfortunate vet Dr. Chinnery, the alcohol-swilling Reverend Bernice, and the awkward innuendo machine that is Herr Lipp.  Still, you can appreciate how the show’s portmanteau approach feels like the most warped riff on a Dickensian Christmas story that you’ll ever see, hear, or read, from the detail-rich sets to the smallest prop.

As with all work from the League (which includes Mycroft Holmes and Sherlock co-creator Mark Gatiss himself), the mix of comedy and horror may not be for all tastes, but if you’re up for a bizarre breed of British humor with a generous sprinkle of Dickens thrown in, check it out.  Also featuring the most hilariously terrifying vision of a hooded figure streaking across the sky shouting, “Merry Christmas.”  And to all a goodnight!

 

The Office (UK), “Christmas Special”

Of all the episodes on this list, this one will leave you with the warm-and-fuzzies like no other.  Also serving as the finale of this brilliant series from Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant, this episode touches us so deeply because of the emotional payoff that results.  We’ve been following cringeworthy David Brent for two series’ worth of awkward moments, so he–and the audience–has earned the right to redeem himself after the documentary has made him out to seem like a real jerk.  Gervais slays it in his performance, and we’re rooting for Brent even as we’re snickering at him for producing that music video of his Simply Red cover, “If You Don’t Know Me By Now.”  One word: doves.

But the sweetest and best–not to mention most inevitable–result goes down like a comforting mug of cocoa. Tim’s gift of an art set to Dawn, fresh off her boyfriend crushing her dreams of illustrating, provides the perfect Christmas message: never give up.  The result of this realization is one of the iconic moments of modern television and will leave you smiling from ear to ear and your heart swelling with joy.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go re-watch this episode for the dozenth time.

 

Did any of your favorites not end up on my nice list?  Sound off in the comments!

Where I’m from, the birds sing a pretty song, and there’s always music in the air, but even still, consider this the most euphonious sound of all: Showtime has announced that the seminal show, often imitated but never duplicated, will air sometime in early 2016,  twenty-five years after ABC cancelled it in 1991.  I’d say I’m surprised, but then again, I think David Lynch, the maestro of the surreal himself, has planned this from the outset.  Don’t believe me?  Well, then I guess you don’t remember the season two (no longer series–holy cow) finale:

 

Yup, that’s Laura Palmer in the Black Lodge talking to Cooper in the series finale.  Just saying.  Oh my God, you guys….Is David Lynch a wizard?

Just a few days ago, on October 3rd, Twin Peaks creators Mark Frost and  Lynch took to Twitter with a cryptic tweet that sent rabid fans such as myself into a veritable frenzy.  Simultaneously, the two tweeted: “Dear Twitter friends: That gum you like is going to come back in style! #damngoodcoffee.”  Little did we know that this message would translate, like a fish in a percolator, into such a delightful surprise as a nine-episode limited series order.  The scripts, all penned by Frost and Lynch, will continue the story and take place in the present day and feature a collection of characters new and familiar.  No definitive casting announcements have been made, but Kyle MacLachlan has hinted at his own return on Twitter today following the report of the Twin Peaks revival: “Better fire up that percolator and find my black suit. 🙂 #Twinpeaks” I don’t know about you, but that sure sounds like a confirmation to me, but expect definitive news of his involvement to be forthcoming.  #howsannie

Suffice it to say that this news changes the game for TV.  In a recent interview, Lynch postulated that television has surpassed cinema and become the new art house, citing shows like True Detective as evidence of the medium’s artistic prominence.  Upon its initial airing, Twin Peaks was like nothing else on television, ahead of its time in innumerable ways; since, however, its impact has resonated profoundly and helped to establish a platform wherein anything goes.  And with those possibilities at Lynch’s disposal, there’s no telling where he’ll take us, though it will no doubt be a place both wonderful and strange.  I absolutely cannot wait!  That ethereal score!  Those quirky characters!  That dream-logic mythology!  Donuts!

 

Oh…I forgot to tell you something.  Leading up to the premiere, Showtime plans to air the original thirty episodes of the series to prepare fans for what’s in store.  Now grab your oven mitts, pick up a bucket full of rocks, and let the speculation begin!  2016 can’t get here soon enough!

If you haven’t heard by now, then you need to extricate yourself from whatever human-sized boulder you’re living beneath and also reconsider your life’s priorities because there’s been big casting news on True Detective: Colin Farrell, the subject of an ever a-churning rumor mill for months now, has confirmed his participation in the second season of the instantly-excellent crime series.

Now before you go all “The dude from Alexander is doing whaaaaaat?” let’s just pause and reflect.  The fact of the matter is this: while Matthew McConnaughey solidified his McConnaissance with his career-defining turn as Rust Cohle, I’m not sure anyone out there could have predicted the heights he would achieve over the course of that transcendent first season.  Simply put, he blew us all away, but there were glimmers of his potential peppered throughout his career–including a personal favorite performance in the Bill Paxton directed horror thrilled Frailty–that the myriad rom coms obfuscated.  I’m going to wager a bet that, if we parse through Farrell’s career closely enough, we’ll find five performances that should reassure us that maybe, just maybe, the dude can pull it off.  Also, let’s be honest, guy knows his way around a stiff drink, so he seems like an ideal successor to Rust’s beer can origami expert. Just sayin’.

Shall we?

 

Fright Night (2011)

In this way-better-than-it-had-any-right-to-be horror remake, Farrell plays vampire neighbor Jerry in what might be the most gleeful performance of his career.  Watching Jerry’s mask of complacent suburbanite charm slip to reveal the cold-blooded killer beneath emerged as one of the film’s highlights.  If Farrell throws himself into his True Detective role with this kind of abandon, I’m sure he’ll be able to–ahem–sink his teeth into it. #vampirepuns #vampiresrpeople2

 

Tigerland (2000)

This overlooked little flick is anchored by a commanding performance from Farrell as he takes his character, Pvt. Roland Bozz, from charismatic leader to cynical soldier contemplating going AWOL.  What makes this film work (other than the fact that director Joel Schumacher actually got out of his own way long enough to shoot an actual movie) is how Farrell handles the character’s contradictions and darker inclinations, both of which should serve his new TD character quite well.

 

In Bruges (2008)

In this inky black comedy from writer-director Martin McDonagh, Farrell plays hitman Ray, stuck in the much-detested locale of Bruges, Belgium, as he awaits orders from his boss.  Farrell handles the quippy, snarky dialogue with aplomb but also more than carries his own during the film’s shifts into shockingly brutal violence and action.  He intuits the beats of his character perfectly here, imbuing this flawed character with an almost unfathomable likability and charisma.  Sound familiar?

 

Crazy Heart (2009)

Farrell can even rein it in a little, as evidenced by his subtle turn as Tommy Sweet in the Jeff Bridges-lead Crazy Heart.  An acolyte of Bridges’ Bad Blake (#accidentalalliteration), Farrell’s Tommy emerges  as a character who functions more to deepen our understanding of the protagonist than anything else, and in an ensemble like True Detective, it’s good to know that Farrell can retreat into the background when the occasion demands it and give his co-stars a chance to shine.  Plus, if his new role calls for it, Farrell has proven he can sport a ponytail if need be because country music stereotypes, duh.

 

Saving Mr. Banks (2013)

I’m an unapologetic fan of this movie, and I remember leaving the theatre with the surprising revelation that Farrell crushed it as Travers Goff, P.L. Travers’s disappointing (not to mention alcoholic) father.  Thanks to his performance, it became easy to see how a man could be both so misguided and so damn lovable at the same time, a man who somehow manages to wrangle trust from those he’s let down time and time again.  A character struggling against an onslaught of personal demons?  Check!

 

Well, there you have it, my defense of Colin Farrell–words, come to think of it, I never thought I’d say, let alone commit to print for posterity.  Let’s put it this way; I’m cautiously optimistic, but one thing’s for sure: if we give him the chance, Farrell might surprise us.  He certainly has the potential.

Also, time is a flat circle.  OK, bye!

The Emmys, am I right?  Seriously, when you’re an hour and a half into an Emmy telecast and you’re thinking, “Bachelor In Paradise might have been a better choice,” then I think it’s time either to reconsider our masochistic interest in this awards ceremony or to give Bachelor in Paradise its due credit.

For now, let’s go with the first option.

I mean, I haven’t dabbled excessively in animal husbandry, but I can’t help but shake the fact that watching a four hour documentary on the herding patterns of yaks would’ve proven more exciting than this year’s recipients.  Repeat winners ruled this particular Seth Meyers-led roost, furthering the perception of the Emmys as little more than a popularity contest, which–of course–it is.

But look, before you get all bent out of shape and start creeping under my house’s crawlspace, I can confess that Breaking Bad‘s several wins were not only deserved but also requisite accolades for a brilliant conclusion to the best show ever to appear on television.  Still, its victories added to the overall sense of humdrum boredom and expectation.  In addition to the been-there-done-that feel, several weird choices–and I’m not just talking about awarding Kathy Bates for her kitschy, over-the-top performance in American Horror Story: Coven over the all-but-a-lock Allison Tolman of Fargo–created a rushed, slipshod ceremony.  For instance, why were there lengthy clips for the nominees in the Best Supporting Actor in a Drama category but just live audience reaction shots for Best Actor?  Why were some presenters given free rein to riff before announcing the winners and others just read off the teleprompter?  The Emmys felt surprising in all the wrong ways.  I was scared, I was confused, and Tatiana Maslany wasn’t there to hold me.  I didn’t like it.

And yet, somehow, the occasional bright spot punched through the murkiness of the proceedings, so below I’ll highlight those (spoiler: it’s a short list) before limiting myself to my major complaints and snubs.

 

I’ll Allow It

1) The Bits

Seth Meyers didn’t set the world on fire or anything as this year’s host, but several very funny interstitial segments did delight.  My favorite has to be Billy Eichner (aka Craig from Parks and Rec) and Seth Meyers on the streets of New York interviewing unwitting pedestrians about the Emmys in this special installment of Billy on the Street. I laughed so hard when Billy scampered away after decrying a Mindy Kaling snub in light of her waking up at the crack of dawn to announce the nominees: “You know who slept soundly?  Perennial Emmy nominee JULIE BOWEN!”  And how about Billy’s reaction to the guy who confused Seth Meyers for Seth MacFarlane?  Great stuff.  My second favorite bit involved Seth opening the floor up as a Q&A, leading Jon Hamm to claim Maggie Smith’s Emmy–if she won– before Julianna Margulies could, Andre Braugher looking for the bathroom key (hint: Josh Charles had it!), and Fred Armisen whipping the crowd into a frenzy in hopes that the Emmys could televise “every year.”  All participants were game here, and it worked.  Loved it.  Finally, the Bryan Cranston/Julia Louis-Dreyfus moments, culminating in him ambushing her in an aggressive lip lock, helped us fall in love with these two even more.

2) Weird Al

Sure, the songs weren’t particularly great (though spurring George R.R. Martin to “write faster” over the Game of Thrones theme amused me), but WEIRD AL PERFORMED AT THE FRICKING EMMYS!  #win.

3) Jimmy Kimmel

Before doling at some award or other, Jimmy Kimmel absolutely killed it in his comedic lambast of Matthew McConaughey, urging him to pack up his patchouli oil and hit the road among other choice one-liners.  Well done, sir.

4) A few winners

Julianna for The Good Wife (and then tossing out a reminder that her show still produces 22 episodes a season).  Louis C.K. for writing “And So Did the Fat Lady.”  Surprise wins for Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman on Sherlock.  Fargo claiming Best Miniseries.  Breaking Bad doing its thing (though I have–please forgive me–a quibble about Aaron Paul’s victory, which you’ll see in a second).  Other than that, not much.

5) The Simplistic and Understated Robin Williams tribute

Billy Crystal nailed it, keeping it short and sweet as he painted a beautifully personal portrait of his deceased friend with a few choice anecdotes.  And if the clips that played after Crystal spoke didn’t leave you with a lump in your throat, then I don’t even know what to tell you.

 

UGH…

1) Continued Modern Family domination

Ty Burrell won AGAIN.  The show won Best Comedy Series AGAIN–for the fifth time in a row.  Gail Mancuso won for Directing AGAIN–for the second time in a row (though her submission episode, “Las Vegas,” was hilarious and so well-deserved). Look, I still enjoy this show a lot, but let’s move on.  Please.

2) Kathy Bates trumps Allison Tolman

I don’t even want to talk about this, except to say it’s another instance of name recognition trumping fresh-faced, genuine talent, though–to her credit–Kathy Bates looked genuinely flummoxed when she heard her name called.

3) Repeat winners dominate

Julia Louis-Dreyfus won her third consecutive Emmy and Bryan Cranston his fourth total last night, but they’re brilliant, so I’ll posit them as the exceptions.  Still, they’re a part of a catalogue of performers who claimed victory already: Jessica Lange (snooze), Jim Parsons (eye roll), and Ty Burrell (scoff) to name but a few.  I’ll say it again: let’s move on.

4) Last night should’ve put #CharlesInCharge

I love Aaron Paul.  He’s exceptionally talented, and he consistently elevated Jesse Pinkman into a fully formed, robust character about whom we cared and for whom we cheered.  Still, that trophy belonged to Josh Charles for his swan song episodes of The Good Wife.  Charles had more to work with this year than Paul did–sorry, but it’s true.  I don’t begrudge Paul his victory (as I said, love the guy), but it would have been nicer to see Charles add that first trophy to his shelf instead of Paul adding his third.

5) Accountants?

Sorry, but this was weird.  Key and Peele tried to make us care with their funny self-deprecating bit and–a credit to their profuse talents–almost succeeded, until I remembered they were introducing accountants.  Um, what?

6) Andre Braugher’s loss

For his performance as police captain Holt, Braugher proved the power of the “straight” man comedic trope; by underplaying his character amidst a squad full of loonies, Braugher emerged as the funniest member of the hilarious Brooklyn Nine-Nine cast.  Ty Burrell, funny as he is, plays a dimwitted dad–that’s the work of a two time Emmy winner?

7) Game of Thrones shut out

I’m not sure where it could have squeezed in, but it’s a shame that this show continues to gobble up the nominations but does not convert them into victories.  Now that Breaking Bad‘s era has concluded, maybe the time for GoT is finally upon us!

 

I’ll stop myself there.  I could keep going, but you get the point: it got weird last night.  But you know what’s weirdest of all?  I can’t help, every year, but hope for something to change with the Emmys, even though it rarely does.  And if that’s not a test for insanity, then I’m not sure what is, and color me mad.  #tvcrazy

Until next year, you Emmy masochists you!

In light of the horribly shocking news of beloved comedian Robin Williams taking his own life at the age of 63, many fans have been offering up their favorite performances of his over the years.  For millennials such as myself, Williams was a staple during my childhood and adolescent years:  Aladdin, Hook, Flubber, Jumanji, Jack, Dead Poet’s Society, Mrs. Doubtfire, Bicentennial Man, and even Patch Adams hold particularly special places in my heart for that very reason.  As I grew older, titles like Death to Smoochy, One Hour Photo, What Dreams May Come, The Final Cut, World’s Greatest Dad, The Fisher King, and Insomnia allowed me a peek into the darker places Williams dared to take his characters, whether dramatically or comedically.  And yet, while all of these–and more–stand out when I think fondly of Robin Williams’s impact, two television performances of his continue to resonate with me, the two pieces of art that I find myself continuing to gravitate back toward.

If you’ll permit, I’d like to share them with you now.

 

Homicide: Life on the Street — S02, E01: “Bop Gun”

Even if you’ve never seen an episode of this all-time great crime series (a progenitor of The Wire amongst many others), it should not stop you from seeking this installment out immediately.  Williams plays Robert Ellison, a tourist on vacation with his wife and two children–one of them played by a very young Jake Gyllenhaal–in Baltimore.  After getting turned around and winding up in one of the more unsavory sections of Charm City, Robert is utterly helpless as he watches his wife murdered in front of him.  For the remainder of the episode, while the police do their best to track down a killer and stave off the pressures from City Hall, more concerned about plummeting tourism than the loss of a wife and mother, we have an opportunity to zero in on the effects of grief on a shattered family.

A truly unique concept for a crime series (particularly at the time of its original broadcast in 1994), “Bop Gun” became a powerhouse showcase for Robin Williams and earned him a Guest Actor in a Drama Series Emmy nomination that did not–of course!–convert into a win.  As he takes Robert through the myriad stages of grief while trying to balance the newly anointed role of single father, Williams probed depths of despair and sadness that–in light of the current news–must have been pulled from his own struggles.  It’s a haunting performance, one of the best by a guest actor in a series that helped to pioneer brilliant guest performances, but more than that, it serves as a testament to Williams’s profuse talents.  We may know him primarily as a deft whirligig of a comedian (more on that in a second), but his spellbinding performance in “Bop Gun” showed layers of such nuance that it became clear that we still hadn’t seen all that Robin Williams had to offer.  Somehow, he still had tricks hidden up those sleeves.

Robin Williams: Live on Broadway

The first time I watched this mind-blowingly brilliant HBO stand-up special, I don’t remember ever having laughed for such an uninterrupted period of time.  In truth, I haven’t since.  Williams’s madcap ribaldry came at such a frantic and relentless pace, my friend and I had to pause to catch our breath from laughing.  If we hadn’t, our wheezing paroxysms of laughter would have drowned out a zippy one-liner or an off-the-cuff self-deprecating rejoinder.   The man was on fire, a routine that seemed so effortless and spontaneous that it could only be the work of a diligent, well-rehearsed professional.

My senior year of high school was a difficult time, but Live on Broadway genuinely shone a light into the dark period of my life.  Unabated, unapologetic laughter poured out of me as if to purge the negativity and sadness I’d been living with: a comedic exorcism.  As tears streamed down my face and Williams went off on Olympic sports (“The luge?  What f*****-up German gynecologist came up with this sport?”), religion (“But, for the Last Supper, would they have not gone out for Chinese?”), world issues (“Osama Bin Laden is a six foot  five Arab on dialysis.  What is so ******* hard to find?!?”), and celebrities (“Michael Jackson’s claiming racism?  I’m like, ‘Honey, you need to pick a race first.'”), I felt for the first time the truly healing nature of comedy.  For that, I’m truly grateful.

Even to this day, I find that snippets of Williams’s routine have insinuated themselves into my day-to-day lexicon, and what does that indicate if not a gift given by a performer at the height of his power?  Nominated for five Emmys but–of course–winning none, Live on Broadway remains the gold standard for me.

Thank you, Robin Williams, for being so generous in sharing your profuse talent.  You helped me through my own depression at a time when I needed it; I only wish someone could have done for you what you so miraculously did for me.  Rest in peace.