tv – UCL Film & TV Society

Sweet Escape: What to Watch During Lockdown

Maria Düster — Fri, 01 May 2020 18:26:33 +0000

In response to the COVID-19 outbreak, governments all over the world – including the UK – have urged those who can to stay at home. This newfound plethora of time may feel stressful and strange, or perhaps mind-numbingly boring. What better way to alleviate lockdown blues than by watching a great film, or finally tackling the tv show you’ve had on your watchlist for ages? Below, a handful of our writers share what films and television shows they’ve been watching to pass the time.

Sex and the City

Tomi Haffety

The perfect binge, watch-whilst-you’re-eating, feel-good series, Sex and the City is a noughties classic. Spanning ninety-four episodes over six years, the witty and glamourous series follows the lives of four women as they navigate style, sex and, quite obviously, the city. Carrie Bradshaw’s namesake column in a small New York newspaper is the backbone to the show as she narrates her and her best friends’ lives, inventing a wealth of creative euphemisms as the group’s relationships go out of fashion quicker than nineties sequins. Winning seven Emmy Awards out of a substantial fifty nominations, Sex and the City was an unprecedented hit when it first aired and is still just as relatable and entertaining. Although the crucial theme of spending absurd amounts of money on shoes and labels feels somewhat outdated – a detail toned down in the subsequent films – the show pioneered the normalcy of casual dating and cherished female friendships. As with many series from the same era, the show’s punchlines occasionally drew on casual racism and sexism, revealing the lengths the show still had to go. Nonetheless, it is a sitcom best watched when you want to fantasize about living in a big city, laugh at Samantha Jones’ consistent sexual humour, and realise, as popularly regarded, that Carrie Bradshaw is possibly the worst friend to grace television. More than this, the show’s unashamed approach to important issues regarding female sexuality and debates surrounding feminism continues to be relevant. Sex and the City remains a turning point in representing the modern woman, and its lasting legacy has filtered through generations; take, for example, the Instagram page ‘@everyoutfitonsatc,’ which has reached 670k people twenty years after the show aired. Watching Sex and the City will make you laugh, equip you with fashion tips, and – most importantly – help you pass the endless hours of quarantine.

Before Sunset

Sang Park

Whenever the going gets tough, at least one person will tell you to just focus on the positives, look forward, and crack on until things work out. However, it would be criminal for any of us to claim that the question of “what if?” has never crossed our mind. In Before Sunset, set nine years after Jesse and Céline’s first encounter in Vienna, we are re-introduced to the pair, who have both been pondering that very same question since the last time they saw one another. Once the two reunite, this time in Paris, what ensues is a stroll through la ville de l’Amour accompanied by a conversation that bounces around from topic to topic like a pinball. While their ramblings and chitchats show us the beauty of people’s ability to reconnect in an instant, no amount of coffee at a chic Parisian cafe or a sarcastic back and forth about American optimism and French sullenness is able to prevent Jesse and Céline from asking the inevitable question: ‘Where would we be now if we had met again after our night?’ As the two grapple with this hypothetical, the facade that they have both put up fades away and ultimately unsheathes the caged hopeless romantics living inside them.

Amidst this pandemic, most of us, like Jesse and Celine, are forced to make peace with the fact that our relationships with our loved ones and our community have come to an abrupt halt, and that they may be lost forever. Maybe like Jesse, you wish you could just call that girl, who took up all the nooks and crannies in your brain or maybe, you just miss grabbing a cold pint with your mates. Whatever the case may be, Before Sunset has something for everyone wrapped up in the pain of solitude. Jesse and Celine’s encounters remind us that there is a future, where we can love and treasure one another unconditionally; their enduring love reminds us of the joy in the unknown ahead of us, no matter our past and present.

Climax

Sofía Kourous Vázquez

There are a lot of parallels between quarantine life and Gaspar Noé’s Climax. Much like the film’s protagonists, who find themselves stuck in their dance school during a snowstorm in the middle of nowhere, we are all trapped indoors in what is also somewhat of a nightmare. Quarantine brings out the worst in everyone: you’ve got your sad babies who would rather curl up in a ball until it all blows over; your angry types who are just looking for someone to blame; and your run-of-the-mill thirsty hoes keeping their eyes on the prize through the chaos. If you need a reason to reminisce over your long-lost days of (possibly) substance-induced clubbing and then take it all back as Noé’s neon dance fantasy degenerates into depravity and horrific mayhem, Climax is your ticket. A global pandemic is a total bummer but hey, at least you’re not stuck unknowingly drinking large doses of LSD-spiked sangria with a bunch of fucked up French people! Explosive and immersive. Many trigger warnings apply.

My So-Called Life

Fatima Jafar

I watched all nineteen episodes of My So-Called Life in rapid succession one summer a few years ago, when there was a lot of time to do nothing. Something about the story of Angela Chase, a fifteen-year-old living in a quiet suburb of Pittsburgh, rang true for me then, and has stayed close to me all this time. Now, in these weeks of quarantine and isolation, when cities have slowed down and the roads seem quieter than ever before, I find myself turning to these episodes for some kind of solace. My So-Called Life expertly charts the lives of a few adolescents and their families in the fictional neighbourhood of Three Rivers. Each episode navigates the fabric of each character’s experiences with a tenderness that I have seldom seen in American coming-of-age television shows. The uncomfortable intricacies of growing up are delved into, and families, relationships, and health are picked apart and tackled with an unflinching eye. I think the reason that my mind goes back to this television show during the pandemic is because of its own willingness to sit in its slowness. The plotlines unfold with both the hesitancy and intensity that accompanies every confused teenager— the fleeting, intense crushes, the hot bursts of anger, the frequent tears. Because the heart of the show is the emotional drama between various characters, the story simmers within its own anxiety, and at times, it’s own yearning. This suburban pull – the desire to feel and experience something more than boring high-school life in a small neighbourhood – evokes a tension not far from the isolation we are experiencing right now. Watching human lives slowly playing out on screen and immersing myself in the tender fragility of passing time has helped me reframe this period of isolation for myself, teaching me how to pause and be on my own for a while.

Rocknrolla

Maria Düster

This film, I’ll admit, is a wildcard. I think about Guy Ritchie a lot – not because I admire him in any way, but because his films occupy such a niche place in the film industry that none of us knows exactly what to do with. While some may simply call them “British gangster films,” I prefer “pathological commitment to imbuing every single storyline on earth – from Sherlock Holmes to King Arthur to whatever the hell The Gentlemen was – with a mildly revolting form of British maleness that roots itself in Cockney accents, martial arts, and a simultaneous hatred towards and fetish for the class system.” All of his films – save for Aladdin, thank God – appear to be colour-graded with the hard salt spray of an ugly British beach somewhere. Yet, I still find myself drawn to his films, unable to look away (except for the half of them I have never seen). Rocknrolla follows a trio of crooks called “The Wild Bunch,” comprised of “One-Two” (Gerard Butler), his partner “Mumbles” (Idris Elba), and driver “Handsome Bob” (Tom Hardy). When a (you guessed it) Russian mob boss concocts a massive real estate scam, The Wild Bunch – along with a crime boss (Tom Wilkinson), an evil accountant (Thandie Newton), and a punk rocker named Johnny Quid (Toby Kebbell) – all duel it out for a big wad of cash. Mark Strong’s alluring narration, combined with a convoluted and unrealistic plot, provide the perfect escapism for surviving a raging pandemic. Also, unless I imagined it in a fever dream, Tom Hardy hooks up with Gerard Butler in one scene. Or maybe it was Idris Elba? Either way, happy watching!

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off

Niloufar Javadi

I grew up consuming an unhealthy amount of American media. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off was one of those films that I had heard about countless times, but never actively sought out. So when my American flatmate suggested watching it, I tentatively agreed. I was pleasantly surprised. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off follows wisecracking high school senior Ferris Bueller (Matthew Broderick), who is determined to enjoy a day off school sightseeing in Downtown Chicago with his girlfriend Sloane (Mia Sara) and his best friend Cameron (Alan Ruck). Equipped with a charming protagonist, fast-paced plot, and surprisingly deep and tender moments, the film offers a welcome distraction from the sporadic episodes of uncertainty and confusion that seem inseparable from our new reality. Like most people I know, I have become increasingly introspective during the lockdown (I like to think I have good reason to). Like Ferris, I am about to graduate and be hurled into the “real world,” where I will need to survive without an academic structure for the first time since I was four years old. The past month has forced me to put my life on hold, to think about the direction I am taking the rest of my adult life and why. Ferris Bueller offers a reassuring squeeze of the hand, reminding me that there is no harm (well, perhaps not too much) in taking a day off of normal life to think, indulge and live more deliberately.

COVID-19 is a global health emergency. UCL Film and Television Society urges all readers to consult their local government’s advice. For UK-specific advice, visit https://www.gov.uk/coronavirus.

‘Primal’ (Season 1) Review: The Art of Survival, The Beauty of Compassion

Marcin Zembrzuski — Sun, 02 Feb 2020 17:00:08 +0000

Marcin Zembrzuski takes a look at celebrated cartoonist, Genndy Tartakovsky’s latest work.

The rawest cartoon of 2019 is, in my opinion, Genndy Tartakovsky’s Primal. This prehistoric adventure thriller, equally influenced by modern nature documentaries and 1970’s pulp fiction, presents the everyday life of a caveman and a dinosaur cooperating to survive in a world of constant danger. The premise of the show is as simple as its title suggests: it is hunt or be hunted, kill or be killed, eat or be eaten. Although this might imply some monotony, Primal frequently surprises with its creativity and boldness, simultaneously pointing out that violence is an inseparable part of our reality and proving the significance of empathy.

Just like almost all of Tartakovsky’s previous creations — i.e. Dexter’s Laboratory (1996-2003), most seasons of Samurai Jack (2001-2017) and Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003-2005) — Primal was supposed to be a children’s animation, introducing the adventures of a boy and his pet-dinosaur. However, this idea, which occurred to the Russian artist about 8 years ago, did not seem to be interesting enough to be developed. It all changed when Samurai Jack’s final season got transferred from Cartoon Network to its mature audience sister station Adult Swim, which allowed Tartakovsky — the director, screenwriter and producer — to partially transform the show. He made it darker and more violent, and presented some distinctive non-dialogue action sequences. After a laudatory response, the artist started to dream about a new series that would build on this new darker tone. Then, he just incorporated it with the earlier idea of a prehistoric adventure, though it obviously meant making some significant changes. The cave-kid became a grown-up man, the dinosaur was no longer his pet, the world around them started to be extremely dangerous, and all the potential dialogues evaporated. It became Primal.

We meet Spear, the main character, as he is hunting and then, just a few moments later, is being hunted himself. Even though these first minutes clearly indicate that this is a story about the huge difficulties of survival in the prehistoric era, we are still not prepared for what comes next: Spear is not able to protect his family from a pack of tyrannosaurs who brutally devour them in front of him. Soon, after considering suicide, he accidentally comes across another group of tyrannosaurs, this time a female feeding her two cubs. The hero considers attacking them, but then the dinosaurs that slaughtered his beloved ones appear again, hungry for more meat. Spear defends the mentioned female tyrannosaurs against the predators, although failing to protect the cubs. Sharing the same tragedy and carrying a similar grief, the mother (Fang) instinctively follows Spear and they eventually become almost inseparable.

A relationship between a man and a dinosaur is far from predictable. Though Fang’s behaviour was inspired by Tartakovsky’s own dog (in its mimicry and mannerisms), she has a strong personality and is equal to Spear. They travel and hunt together, but their mutual help is contrasted with their egotism, mistrust and misunderstanding. In other words, they have to learn how to live together. The development of their complicated friendship, which is based on compassion, perfecting their hunting strategies and consequently building loyalty, is one of the show’s strongest points. Its most interesting fragments, however, come with Spear’s melancholy and anger since he sometimes recognizes in Fang exactly the same type of animal that ate his family, and considers taking revenge by killing his companion. These scenes seem to subtly refer to the theme of prejudice, since the hero has to learn the differences between various representatives of one species.

What is more, the show offers some contemplative moments: Tartakovsky lets his characters travel, track, recall the past or wonder about their surroundings. All this, thanks to the lack of words and focus on evocative images and simple sounds, make the narration raw and effective. Most of the journeys, though, take place between all of the first season’s five episodes, as each one of them shows the heroes appearing in completely different locations with varying weather conditions. Moreover, we never know how much time has passed from the previous adventure and the present moment, but with new places always come new creatures, both historical (obviously, mainly different types of dinosaurs) and purely fictional (e.g. gigantic monster-bats that make the fourth episode a true horror story). Some animals appear just for a moment and then never come back which only emphasizes the richness of the presented world, and captivates the audience even further.

The permanent fight for survival, albeit strictly pertaining to the primordial context where death was commonplace, suggests that violence is as natural an ingredient of our reality as the air itself. With the exception of some dark and brutal rites seen in the fifth episode, the acts of violence are justified. There is no exploitation of other beings — which was something developed by human civilizations centuries later — and there is no moral distinction between the good and the evil, as we understand it today.

The best example of such ambivalence comes with the surprisingly sad third episode in which we observe an old mammoth that has lost its herd during a blizzard. Wandering alone, the animal is suddenly attacked by Spear and Fang. The heroes are incredibly merciless, ready to do anything to kill the huge prey, which makes them look like the cruel antagonists. But, obviously, they just need its meat and fur to survive. Furthermore, the moment of its death is also complicated by the remorse appearing in the expression of Spear. They did what they had to do, even if that is ugly.

This ambiguity is the quintessence of the show which is simultaneously ferocious, bleak and touching. Despite the simplicity of the plot, Tartakovsky convincingly presents the complexity of human nature and that of the world that surrounds us. He underlines the necessity of violence, while always remembering to show its terror. The story of the unexpected friendship is defined by honesty as the Russian animator seems to really love (and care for) his characters. And that is what makes Primal beautiful. But be warned — it will break your heart.

Primal is available to stream on Adult Swim now. Check out the trailer below:

A Decade in: TV Shows

Alex Dewing — Fri, 10 Jan 2020 18:19:34 +0000

We don’t even want to count how many TV shows showed up on our screens in the last decade, so our writers give their opinions on their favourites instead.

Avatar: TheLegend of Korra (2012-2014)

The sequel series to Avatar: The Last Airbender had to live up to a children’s series phenomenon. In The Legend of Korra, the exquisite world building is extrapolated beautifully. The animation style is so difficult that the first season’s studio declined to animate the second because The Boondocks caused their animators less stress! The Avatar franchise uses beautiful colouring and animation styles that honour the incredible martial arts and fight scenes. Furthermore, the series manages to present complicated narratives and themes to a children’s audience. The whimsical magic of the four elements in the original series is transformed into a gritty steampunk world with industrial change. It owes and pays much tribute to the previous series, but the surprises and additions are fun for any viewer. The combination of new ‘bending’ techniques and the invention of new technologies are great to discover and make the audience want to return to watching their world. Although the writing is weaker at the beginning, with an awkwardly written love triangle, the latter seasons are strong in showing the spiritual and political struggle. Korra faces villains who are domestic terrorists, fascist military dictators, and her own uncle.

Emma Davis

Sense8 (2015-2018)

Created, written and directed by the Wachowskis and J. Michael Straczynski, Sense8 was ambitious, heartfelt and visually stunning. The show took place in several locations around the world, with eight protagonists with their own arcs, it had the potential to be incredibly confusing, but it never was. The protagonists are ‘sensate’ – connected by a strange power that allows them to experience what another in their ‘cluster’ feels. At its heart, the show is about this connection and love. It was the also first piece of media I ever encountered that had multiple main LGBTQ characters (in fact, all the protagonists are confirmed as queer). It’s intimate and global; it’s action-packed and melancholic. It’s a show that can be re-watched over and over and you’ll find some tiny detail that you’ve never seen before. Sense8 was always about self-expression and freedom and I wish it had lasted a little longer.

Rhiannon C. Jones

Broad City (2014-2019)

After ending this March after a five year run, Broad City has left a television void once filled by the explosively colourful female sitcom. This show brought women into stoner humour, confronting the goofy dynamic duo shtick that has long been dominated by male comedians. Abby Jacobson and Ilana Glazer stomped, skipped, tripped, and stumbled through New York City, imperfect, chaotic, and deeply relatable. I tell all my friends to watch this show and wish I could do it all over again.

Sofía Kourous Vázquez

Brooklyn Nine-Nine (2013-)

Brooklyn Nine-Nine, a show that has united the warring factions of the internet since its first release in 2013 is my TV pick of the decade. Outcries upon the announcement of its cancellation in 2018 lead the TV Big Bosses to a hasty programming retreat as they commissioned the series for another . A real testament to the show’s significance. Andy Samberg (Joanna Newsom’s husband of Lonely Island fame) stars as the beloved Jake Peralta – a hapless junior cop with a predilection for chaos whose stubborn self-righteous goodness pulls him through. The performance of Gina Peretti (Chelsea Peretti) and Detective Rosa Diaz (Stephanie Bearitz) as supporting cast also call for a special mention. Riffing off the self-serious cop shows of the noughts (Cf. The Wire) Brooklyn Nine-Nine succeeds as a sitcom with its off-beat comedy which maintains emotional sincerity and sensitivity. A feat which most comics seem to find impossible nowadays, as we see more comedy falling back on cool irony and detachment, perhaps in order to evade dealing with that tricky stuff – emotion. This rare show has also been meeting increasing viewer demands for minority-experience representation from 2011 (ahead of the general consumer shift we’ve seen this decade) without appearing overtly contrived or moralising. While we’ve seen sitcoms such as Big Bang Theory and How I Met Your Mother on the decline in favour of drama in TV this decade, Brooklyn Nine-Nine (thankfully for us) has formed and nurtured its own niche in the market. But let’s be real, however much we love the cast, they’re still massive cops.

Xara Zabihi Dutton

BoJack Horseman (2014-2019)

As the year lulls to a close, my pick of the decade is predictably the cartoon about the horse with depression. BoJack Horseman (voiced by Will Arnett), the titular horseman, is a washed-up Hollywood actor who struggles to pick up his career after starring in a beloved 90’s sitcom. BoJack doesn’t work because he doesn’t have to; his old show ‘Horsin Around’ bestows him with B-minus fame and LA-mansion pools of money. BoJack comes to terms with this by acting like a sleazy asshole: he inhales gin and hits on women willing to either exploit or overlook his has-been status. The show kicks off with BoJack meeting Diane Nguyen (Alison Brie), a writer hopeful who is hired to author a tell-all on BoJack to revitalize his dying career. Diane is too good to cater solely to onanistic publicity, and her insight forces BoJack to ask himself why he can’t stop drinking, why he keeps fucking up, and why he keeps hurting the people he loves. The beauty of BoJack Horseman is that its ridiculous. Brought to life with Lisa Hanawalt’s anthropomorphic animations, most of the show’s humor is derived from the joke that half of the characters are talking animals. It works because BoJack Horseman is grounded by its impeccable writing: the show crackles with wit, snapping with meta-puns and alliterative tongue twisters. The script’s delivery is upheld by an all-star cast: Amy Sedaris glows as BoJack’s Jersey-accented feline agent, and Aaron Paul gilds as the ditzy but sweet high-school dropout chilling on BoJack’s couch. Far from simply addressing the superficiality of celebrity culture, BoJack Horseman shines a light on topical American issues like abortion, gun control, racism, and the garbage fire election crisis of 2016. The effect is rippling and expansive: as BoJack spirals, the world does too. I find this endlessly comforting: BoJack Horseman never pretends everything isn’t going to shit.

The show is now in its sixth and final season, and I already know I’m going to miss it. I’ve spent a good part of my adolescence getting lost in the lush and jam-packed world of Hollywoo, assuaging depression by stuffing cereal and BoJack’s crazy antics into my face. What strikes me is how cathartic it all is; while acknowledging that the world is a toilet bowl, BoJack Horseman never fails to be weird, funny, and hopeful. BoJack Horseman is a social critique and meditation on mental illness, but also essentially a heartfelt comedy: the series pokes fun at the vapidity of child star Sarah Lynn (Kristen Schaal) in the same breath it vivisects her tragic drug-addled past. Maybe its this schizophrenic slash multi-genre confusion that makes it so distinctly 2010s. In any case, BoJack Horseman is a relic I want to put in a locket and swing around my neck— like a baby tooth, or a middle school photograph.

Harry Mizumoto

‘Dark’ Season 2 Review

Harry Mizumoto — Tue, 17 Sep 2019 15:57:58 +0000

Harry Mizumoto reviews the latest season of Netflix’s hit German drama.

This review contains minor spoilers.

The world is dying. If one can indulge the melodrama of this statement long enough, it seems pretty apt; nationalism and alt-right rhetoric are on the rise, threats of nuclear enrichment are being launched left and right, and the Amazon is literally on fire. It’s a time to be alert and somewhat anxious. No contemporary series reflects this existential dread better than Dark, a show which broods on the inevitability of human nature.

Stylistically, Dark is gorgeous. The small and geographically ambiguous town of Winden is introduced with a slow pan over its outskirts, an endless thicket of trees. Its residents interact in forests, bunkers, dark caves, small rooms in compact homes; spaces so intimate they feel claustrophobic. Spools of dread develop alongside a tense and minimal soundtrack, replete with the faint thrum of chimes and synths. A particularly unsettling score opens with a string of gasps, as if straining for air. The sounds play over trademark split screen shots attuned to shifts in time or expression, like bicycles swimming through trees, or eyes peeking through a curtain of hair.

For those who need a quick recap, the Netflix Original darling of 2017– billed as the German lovechild of Stranger Things and Back to the Future— centres a series of disappearing children which recurs in multiple timelines of a small town. Time-travel complicates this: missing children stay missing because their bodies are deposited in a different time. In the laws of this universe, time forms a deterministic loop. Police investigations and familial inquests of these disappearances prove futile, dredging up pieces which only make sense beyond the context of their lives, slotted in the greater arc of time. This helplessness is familiar, as well as uncannily satisfying; piecing every timeline together feels like finally achieving a sense of objectivity, like observing fruit flies in a petri dish.

The second season of Dark expands on this generational study, examining its flies– and the relationships between them– much more closely. Key figures include Egon (Christian Pätzold), a main figure deepened across time as a sympathetic policeman, husband, and father, and Ulrich (Oliver Masucci), who we revisit as a sedated, white-haired man committed to a psychiatric ward in 1953. Jonas (Louis Hofman) shines as an time-traveling altruist, trading his displacement in 1986 for the dystopian wasteland of 2053. The series contains more timelines than ever before, largely owed to multiple Jonases competing against one another (and themselves). The attention to historical accuracy is a definite plus; I was heavily amused when, upon stumbling into the idyllic wheat fields of 1921, Jonas is mistaken for a victim of shell shock. Continuing Jonas’ efforts is his older, more bedraggled counterpart (Andreas Pieschmann), who reunites with Teen Jonas’s mother in a bizarre and touching scene only made possible by Dark’s messed up timelines.

There are a lot of these strange moments in Dark, since the intricate plot line relies on small-town intimacy for much of its complexity. A trademark of the show is tangling people into Oedipal relationships you’d usually only expect from a commune, which I’m largely a fan of. I will never get tired of discovering that two characters are related in some fucked up way. Next season, I’m excited for the show’s big flourish to reveal that a character is the only child of themselves.

Dark is available to stream on Netflix worldwide. Check out the trailer for season two below:

Eight Shows to Watch This Summer

Alex Dewing — Wed, 03 Jul 2019 17:18:30 +0000

Editor-in-Chief Alex Dewing recommends eight shows that will keep you in the shade this summer.

1. Stranger Things Season 3

When the Duffer Brothers’ Stranger Things first hit Netflix back in 2016, nobody quite expected how far it would ripple through pop culture. It’s no surprise now that the show’s third season is the most anticipated Netflix release this summer. From the jaw-dropping new trailer, it’s clear that there’s going to be a lot in this next season. In the previous two, we’ve had adventure, horror, and mystery, and now it’s all coming together – bringing the action up tenfold. For the first time, we’ll see the school-aged gang outside of term time, giving them a much needed summer holiday spent at a neon-lit fair blasting synth-heavy pop and a shopping mall where fan favourite Steve Harrington (Joe Keery) works days at an ice cream parlour. As for what dangers threaten the gang this season, we’ll have to wait and see…

Stranger Things comes to Netflix on July 4th

2. The Boys

Even though Marvel brought their relationship with Netflix to a close with the third and final season of Jessica Jones, there is still an abundance of superheroes to be found on the small screen – but you’ll find none quite like The Boys. Adapted from the comic series by Garth Ennis and Darick Robertson known for its extreme violence and dark comedy, this Amazon Prime exclusive isn’t going to hold back. (Check out the trailer if you don’t believe me). Set in a world where superheroes have gone rogue, turning to corruption and villainy, only this superpowered team of ‘good guys’ can keep them in check. It will be interesting to see whether The Boys, developed by Supernatural creator Eric Kripke and comedy collaborators Evan Goldberg and Seth Rogen, succeeds as a superhero satire or flops with its gratuitously sickening approach.

The Boys makes its way to Amazon Prime on July 26th

3. The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance

Jim Henson and Frank Oz’s cult classic film The Dark Crystal is getting its own prequel 37 years after its release in Netflix’s upcoming animated series Age of Resistance. With darker themes than one would expect from a high-fantasy, family-friendly adventure film, the original Dark Crystal shocked viewers – and the new series looks to follow the original’s lead. The show is set to feature a stellar voice cast: Taron Egerton, Nathalie Emmanuel, and Anya Taylor-Joy take the lead as three Gelflings – elf-like creatures from the planet Thra – on a journey to start a rebellion in response to the rise of the Skeksis – a villainous species of reptilian birds. These voices will be bringing character to some incredibly innovative puppetry, as to be expected of a Henson production, and the world-building of this show is a definite reason to give it a watch this summer.

The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance hits Netflix on August 30th

4. I AM

BAFTA award-winning writer-director Dominic Savage will be bringing us a fascinating new anthology miniseries with Channel 4 that puts women and their stories front and centre. There’s always something a little off-putting when a mainstream broadcaster commissions a man to make such a female-focused show like I AM; however, in an article for Pilot TV, Savage managed to somewhat quell my suspicions by detailing his process in developing his scripts. The director talked in depth with his lead actors Gemma Chan, Samantha Morton, and Vicky McClure to find “characters, emotions and ideas” they are interested in exploring. This trio of fantastic women is reason alone to give the show a chance, but with such a great concept and lead creator also on board, I AM will certainly be an interesting one to keep an eye on.

I AM comes to Channel 4 in August

5. This Way Up

The first comedy series on my list is Aisling Bea’s This Way Up, a dark comedy that explores mental health in the modern age. This central concept is becoming more prominent in TV writing, and having been written by and starring Bea herself as the character Aine, and loosely inspired by her personal experiences, we can expect this Channel 4 original to be brimming with the appropriate delicacy, charm, and vulnerability. In the same way, there should be humour by the bucketload; Sharon Horgan (Catastrophe) will be starring alongside Bea as Shona, Aine’s sister. Close friends in real life, Bea and Horgan are sure to bring the chemistry needed for this series to succeed – not to mention their faultless comedic timing. Fingers crossed that This Way Up will be the perfect show to end a summer’s day on.

This Way Up premieres on Channel 4 on July 4th

6. Deep Water

ITV has slowly been catching up to other broadcasters when it comes to their original dramas; shows like Broadchurch and Marcella have found huge followings in recent years. Now, Deep Water might just be one to add to that list. Based off Paula Daly’s book series Windermere, the show has echoes of Big Little Lies, as it follows the lives of three women — played by Anna Friel, Sinead Keenan, and Rosalind Elezar — after an accident involving two of their children brings tensions and secrets to the surface of their community. Deep Water sports a female-led ensemble both in front of and behind the camera, and a team such as this can only result in good things. Add to that a handful of dysfunctional families, plenty of suspicious characters, and the picturesque setting of the Lake District in summer and you have a new drama to escape into — unless that premise sounds too much like your own summer vacation!

Deep Water is on ITV late this summer

7. Catherine the Great

If one thing’s for sure, you can always count on there being a new period drama on TV at any given time of the year. This summer Sky Atlantic provides us with Catherine the Great, following Empress Catherine II of Russia. This four-part historical drama flaunts a phenomenal cast: Dame Helen Mirren plays Catherine herself, and Rory Kinnear, Jason Clarke, Gina McKee, Joseph Quinn, and Sam Palladio feature, among other well-known faces. Set during the conclusion of Catherine’s reign, Catherine the Great captures the Empress’ fervent affair with Grigory Potemkin and its effects on her rule, as well as her notable position as a forceful female ruler embracing her power and sexuality. More War & Peace and less Downton Abbey, this drama should be something a little bit different within the genre and a must-watch this summer.

Catherine the Great hits Sky Atlantic this August

8. The Capture

What do The Night Manager, The Bodyguard, and The Little Drummer Girl all have in common? Other than being occupational titles, they’re all hit BBC shows that make it clear the broadcasters know drama – and now, they bring us a timely thriller in The Capture. Following DI Rachel Carey (Holliday Granger) as she takes on a seemingly simple case against ex-soldier Shaun Emery (Callum Turner), The Capture is set to examine the world of ‘fake news’ and ‘post-truth’ agendas. A surveillance thriller such as this hasn’t been seen on the BBC before, and we can be sure that it’ll join the ranks of other critiques of hypermodernity that have found popularity among TV audiences in the likes of Black Mirror and Hard Sun. After a long day relaxing in the sun, The Capture is a perfect show to watch to get your heartbeat racing again.

The Capture will air on BBC One, date TBC

8 Reasons You Should Be Watching ‘Russian Doll’

Alex Dewing — Tue, 09 Apr 2019 16:23:35 +0000

Alex Dewing recaps the new original Netflix series.

Only a few months into 2019, Netflix released the show Russian Doll and immediately set the bar higher for every Netflix original to follow. Visually stunning, hilarious throughout, and wonderfully original, this show has a lot going for it. So, to match its eight-episode arc, here are eight reasons you should be watching the show – if you haven’t already binged it.

1. It has a fantastic story.

Nadia Vulvokov (Natasha Lyonne) is a chaotic video game designer who, on her birthday, drunkenly stumbles out into the streets of New York to look for her missing cat – only to get hit by a car and die. And just like that, she’s back at her birthday party, confused but very much alive. Suddenly, death comes very easily to her – or maybe she’s just tripping? Maybe it was something she drank or ate? Figuring out the cause, and solution, to her Groundhog Day-esque cycle initially seems to be at the heart of Russian Doll, but as the episodes go on it’s clear that there’s a lot more to be explored beyond the show’s mysterious concept.

2. It’s created by a stellar group of women.

Amy Poehler of Parks and Recreation fame, playwright Leslye Headland, and lead actress Natasha Lyonne make up the powerhouse team of co-creators, which should get you really excited for this show – if you weren’t already. What’s more is that the entire writing and directing team is female. In an interview with The TODAY Show, Lyonne said the team made this decision so that “gender could disappear in a way that would make [Russian Doll] a far more human experience and a human story, without the historical tropes of what it would be for a woman to be going through this experience.”

3. It’s perfect for bingeing.

At eight episodes in total, each only 25 minutes in length, Russian Doll is a perfect show to binge-watch after a long day. Despite its relatively short episodes, the show is paced to perfection, drawing at first on the mystery at hand and later descending into time-bending chaos. Plus, with every episode introducing a new piece to the puzzle right at the very end, this is one that you’ll want to get through all at once.

4. That aesthetic tho!

Russian Doll is nothing if not rich in its production design. Nadia’s never-ending birthday party is hosted in an old yeshiva-turned-apartment owned by Nadia’s exuberant friend Maxine (Greta Lee); it’s full of modern people and modern art, including the iconic, “terrifying vaginal” bathroom door. There’s also Alan’s (Charlie Barnett) American Psycho-esque apartment, with its straight edges, clean surfaces, and alphabetised game collections. Everything you’ll see onscreen is lush with details and vivid colours. Don’t even get me started on the fashion; one look at all the wonderfully diverse New Yorkers portrayed in the show, and you’ll be grabbing your laptop to do some online shopping.

5. The characters are wonderfully flawed.

Lyonne has said that Nadia was, for her, a very autobiographical character, and the connection she shares with her character is evident throughout the show. Nadia is messy and hedonistic. Suffering from latent childhood trauma, she has no time for the banalities of the world, though she is deeply caring towards her friends. Meanwhile, Alan is her polar opposite: he is orderly, precise, and ascetic. Stuck repeating one of the worst evenings of his life, his forced cooperation with Nadia sets up for a lot of friction. But their development as individuals is handled with confidence and care, adding another dynamic to the show as a whole.

6. The music.

From the wistful, chill sounds of ‘Cherry Blossom (Moors Remix)’ by ALA.NI to the addictive energy of Harry Nilsson’s ‘Gotta Get Up’ that, quite simply, becomes the refrain for Nadia’s deaths and will not leave your head for a good long while, Russian Doll is filled with some absolute tunes. With an observant ear, you can catch classic rock songs, neo-psychedelia, experimental hip-hop, ’60s French pop, and even Beethoven concertos. Quite literally, there is something for everyone. So many of the songs, too, add thematic resonance in a way that is subtle but perfectly timed. Who doesn’t love adding new songs to their playlists after watching a show?

7. It’ll make you laugh.

Something you learn pretty quickly about Nadia is that her humour is dry and relentless; she’s always quick to make a sarcastic comment and sharp on the followup. Cynical in every sense of the word, her comedy embodies Russian Doll‘s morbid themes. Imbued with a delightfully dark humour (I mean, it’s a show about death, tragedy, and trauma – what else would you expect?), lines of dialogue are delivered masterfully, leaving you laughing probably more than you should. The chilling mystery, as well as the tense metaphysical exploration on which the show embarks, is adeptly balanced with this humour, and the show switches and blends the two tones expertly.

8. It never goes the way you expect.

You’ve seen Groundhog Day and, more recently, Happy Death Day – you know how these time loop shows go. Well, think again. What’s best about Russian Doll is that it is totally, wonderfully, fantastically unpredictable. So maybe give it a watch.

Russian Doll is currently available to stream on Netflix. Watch the trailer below:

2018 in Television: A Round-Up

Pihla Pekkarinen — Sun, 10 Mar 2019 17:13:05 +0000

The FilmSoc team looks back at some of 2018’s prominent TV shows, some latest seasons and some new underrated releases.

There is no skirting around the fact that we are now well into 2019. Plenty of new and delightful shows have come out since the start of the year, and perhaps the gems of 2018 have been buried in the instant gratification of new Netflix shows coming out every other weekend. Nevertheless, the Filmsoc blog team got together towards the beginning of the year to write some flash reviews of our favourite shows of 2018. Read, reminisce, and perhaps you will wish revisit some shows that you binge-watched that one March weekend when you had an essay to write but couldn’t be bothered. Here is to more, hopefully somewhat mindful, watching in 2019!

Westworld Season 2 (Xinyi Wang)

The problem with Westworld that stood out in season two was its insistence on pulling an aha! pseudo-intellectual rug from under its audience’s feet. It remains one of the most captivating television shows out there, however it did also feel as if Nolan and Joy want to always one-up their audience: constantly challenging notions and concepts, usually leaving viewers rather confused and tired.

Season two always promises a revelation in the finale that whips its world and characters towards a new, unforeseeable direction while posing more questions – a fine, exhilarating device that is, for the most part, used brilliantly. However, by opting for a circular narrative, working with even more timelines than before (are they simply refusing to create chronologically linear stories?), the season as a consequence suffers from narratively useless filler episodes that ultimately do not contribute to the finale, where twists edge dangerously close to “for the sake of it”. This is an issue that Westworld needs to overcome in the future.

It is not to say that the show is not a marvel in terms of production and narrative design – the episode ‘Kiksuya’ is a complete stand out that deserves all the praise it received, while the main cast continue to shine in their roles. Character arcs and dynamics are developed in interesting directions, and altogether Westworld continues its fascinating path: diving into questions of free will, humanity and cognition.

The Good Place Season 2 (Sabastian Astley)

Leading on immediately from its incredible twist, The Good Place Season 2 constantly reinvents itself, developing and transforming the show’s core concepts at an incredible rate. The show’s infusion of casual philosophy alongside an ever-developing cast, constantly evolving from episode to episode, helps to highlight The Good Place as one of the most original shows of 2018.

Call My Agent! / Dix pour cent Season 3 (Emma Davis)

This fun French television gem fills the hole in my heart that HBO’s The Newsroom left behind. As in everyone is a terrible person and shouts a lot. It’s taken an incredibly funny premise – of the slapstick and frustration comedy in French show business – and used it to tell the messy stories of mixing professional and personal lives. The third season is impressive in showing how the show can evolve from its initial case-of-the-week of a client causing trouble to commentary on the ridiculous French movie industry and geographic inequality of French society.

The End of the F***ing World (Pihla Pekkarinen)

This show is kind of like Scott Pilgrim, but with more swearing and violence. The End of the F***ing world was born from a graphic novel, and the original format seeps through the frames and graphics of the show. Alex Lawther is brilliant in his deadpan performance of a self-diagnosed teenage psychopath, and Jessica Barden, while somewhat overshadowed by Lawther, manages to lose her self-consciousness enough to portray a character so unlikeable that you end up rooting for the one who wants to kill her. Despite losing itself a little in the second half, as the macabre aesthetics are pushed aside to create a supposedly more heartfelt, yet unfortunately hollow, love story, the cliffhanger finale ties the show together; leaving the audience with the perfect cocktail of bittersweet satisfaction. However, as a fan of self-contained TV shows, I am not thrilled about the second series currently being filmed: I have no doubt it will spoil the ambiguous ending of the first series, and am therefore doubtful the show will be able to maintain its charisma.

Riverdale Season 3 (Sabastian Astley)

Honestly, this show is the definition of nonsensical – place it against its freshman season and you will find two different productions entirely. Bizarrely enough, this is exactly what makes the latest season so extraordinary. Weaving in a cornucopia of plots – satanic cults and their use of ‘Gryphons and Gargoyles’ and a megalomaniac criminal taking over the town – throwing in musical episodes, and even an 80s-drenched flashback episode, Robert Aguirre-Sacasa suggests that there are no limits for Archie and his friends to explore. I’m sure you’d struggle to find another show that is unashamedly as strange as this.

The Last Kingdom (Ælfwine the Precarious)

Granted the dubious honour of a Netflix purchase, The Last Kingdom’s fate was in the balance. At the BBC it was a suitably grounded and surprisingly historical venture, outshining Game of Thrones by the very murk of its lustre; much like the earlier seasons of Thrones, it is a series focused more on political machinations than flighty distractions of High Fantasy. Would Netflix sex it up with magic and mystique, kill the gylden gos with a Valyrian axe? Despite the introduction of a Norse spellstress, the thankful answer is a clear no. The Last Kingdom remains a grim, violent, and (still! vaguely!) historical traipse through Anglo-Saxon Britain.

Sharp Objects (Thomas Caulton)

Confronted with childhood traumas and her oppressive mother, tormented reporter Camille Preaker spirals into self-destruction while trying to uncover the truth about the gruesome murder of a young girl and the vanishing of another in the small Missouri town of Wind Gap, isolated in the heartlands of confederate America. The slow-burn narrative cuts deeply, maintaining an iron-fisted grip on the audience’s attention while drawing us further and further into Jean Marc-Vallee’s bleak and sultry vision. The masterful direction and unwavering visual style elevate Gillian Flynn’s source material, offering a relentless and mesmerising experience that establishes itself as one of 2018’s finest releases.

Bodyguard (Maeve Allen)

Jed Mercurio’s Bodyguard was nail-biting brilliance on the BBC. When David Budd (Richard Madden) is assigned a new role as bodyguard to the Home Secretary (Keeley Hawes), he must put aside his personal politics for her protection. Book-ended by terrifically tense scenes of attempted terrorism, this Sunday night series was a thrilling tale of forbidden love and crooked conspiracy. The story swerved and surprised, leaving the audience suspicious. Who should we trust? Is Keely really dead? When will I marry Richard Madden? It was Kiss Kiss Bang Bang: a properly perfect thriller.

The Assassination of Gianni Versace (Alexandra Petrache)

Delectable, decadent, disturbing: The Assassination of Gianni Versace carries itself magnificently, with an opulent production design and great acting all-around. Darren Criss puts on a stellar performance as Andrew Cunanan (the man who assassinated Versace) and manages to innovate his character; bringing out a new facet every episode, carving out a textbook psychopath with a lingering touch of madness. The viewer is taken on a journey that makes them feel pity, sadness, exasperation, disgust and fear. Some might even find it difficult to watch. The direction and plot are tastefully composed, albeit slightly convoluted at times. All-in-all, a great show gilded in gold, emotion and blood.

Brooklyn Nine-Nine Season 6 (Alexandra Petrache)

I must say I wasn’t sure Brooklyn Nine-Nine would manage to keep its comedic mojo for a 6th season – it somehow felt that Jake and Amy’s wedding sealed the end of the show. However, Season 6 is a bang! Slightly shy in the first episode, testing the waters with the return, it keeps picking up and even though the tone of the jokes is similar to the previous seasons, they feel refreshed and even funnier. The relationships between characters also develop and take slightly unexpected turns. Brooklyn Nine-Nine is crisper than ever before – I definitely recommend being loyal and watching on.

‘Atlanta: Robbin’ Season’ Review

Raphael Duhamel — Mon, 28 May 2018 18:19:57 +0000

Raphael Duhamel reviews the second season of Donald Glover’s series.

The first sequence of Atlanta’s second season sets the tone for every other episode: two young unidentified men prepare to raid a fast-food restaurant, which escalates to an incongruous stand-off ending with an aerial shot of a bloodstained woman, screaming and crying in the middle of a road. From this premise onwards, the phenomenal showrunner Donald Glover strives to demonstrate that Atlanta: Robbin’ Season is not just a follow-up to the successful and more light-hearted first series, but truly a new chapter in the lives of Alfred (Bryan Tyree Henry) and Earn, played by himself. This opening act shows none of the already established characters, yet it still feels appropriate and relevant in a series which continually oscillates between dream-like sequences and chronicles of everyday African-American life in the Georgian city. Atlanta’s exceptional blend of comedy and grittiness, and its hauntingly realistic themes set it apart from any other show on television, unashamedly capturing and presenting the nuances of black identity in America.

The second season’s title, referencing the time of the year, around Christmas, during which many robberies occur, establishes a hostile atmosphere for the entire string of episodes. Atlanta: Robbin’ Season acts as a learning process for Alfred, aka Paper Boi, and his team comprised of his cousin-manager Earn and astute pothead-philosopher Darius (Lakeith Stanfield), who must grow out of their lovable underdog status, as they face increasingly dire challenges. This second instalment feels very much influenced by Get Out, both in its depiction of the African-American condition in the United States – which Jordan Peele compared to the one experienced by Frankenstein’s monster – and its incorporation of supernatural segments. These elements are particularly salient in the second episode, during which Alfred and Earn go to a Spotify-like streaming service, where the rapper’s every movement is seemingly followed by their entirely white staff. Earn undergoes similar discomfort in the fourth episode, which takes place during a fictitious German festival, as Glover’s character is forced to participate in mysterious games by his girlfriend Van (Zazie Beetz), surrounded by participants in strange animal masks. The festival’s menacing atmosphere is enhanced by the use of 100 and 200mm lenses, meant to make the characters appear as if they were being spied on, and similarly, the absence of subtitles during German-spoken parts favour the spectator’s identification with alienated Earn. Atlanta’s exploration of the themes of racism and African-Americanness are never gratuitous, because they always contribute to character development: the fourth episode, through Earn’s estrangement, truly marks the separation between him and Van, as Glover’s character blames her for dragging him into this “white culture” he is not comfortable in.

The season’s standout episode, Teddy Perkins, also starts with the protagonist’s alienation in an unfriendly environment, before proceeding to explore the horrifying consequences of childhood trauma. Once again fully embracing Get Out’s atmosphere, it is appropriately led by Lakeith Stanfield, playing Darius, who opened Jordan Peele’s film. This episode takes place in a colonial mansion owned by a mysterious man bearing an incredible resemblance with post-surgery Michael Jackson, whom Darius visits in hope of acquiring a piano. Teddy Perkins is played by an exceptional Donald Glover who stayed in a white mask for the entire shoot, undoubtedly contributing to his eerie performance as a deeply troubled man, who was beaten by a father in perpetual search for excellence. One of Atlanta’s most unforgettable moments is featured in this episode, as Darius witness his host dipping his fingers into an ostrich egg before ingesting it. Such grotesque occurrences should make Teddy Perkins teeter between comedy and drama, yet its most entertaining aspects are eventually balanced out by its tragic ending, which leaves Darius and the spectator equally scarred. Directed by Hiro Murai, one of Glover’s preferred collaborators, and shot by cinematographer Christian Sprenger, Teddy Perkins remarkably plays on shadows and contrasts, perpetuating this season’s grainy look, even earning praises from Steven Soderbergh, who called it “the most beautifully photographed half-hour of television I’ve ever seen”. Its aesthetic beauty is only matched by its narrative significance, as the episode marks the beginning of the season’s second half, during which Alfred and Earn face life-threatening challenges.

The hostile atmospheres depicted in Atlanta appear as reflections of Glover’s harsh assessment of the United States, which surfaced in his recent music video for This Is America, also directed by Hiro Murai. The song’s refrain, which sees him repeating “Get your money, Black man”, could be this season’s motto, as Alfred and Earn must both take crucial decisions in order to make a living and survive in the rap world. Paper Boi learns to understand the consequences of celebrity on his life and the limits of wanting to stay “real”, whereas Earn, in a gut-wrenching finale, learns to become ruthless and put himself in front of others. Darius summarizes their situation in his usual, laid-back way: “Y’all both black, so I mean, y’all both can’t afford to fail”. The penultimate episode, featuring Alfred (Abraham Clinkscales) and Earn (Alkoya Brunson) as teenagers, paves the way for this realization, as Brunson’s character faces possible humiliation because of the shirt he is wearing, which appears to be fake. The episode’s most meaningful scene occurs when Earn is told by a white friend that he should not worry too much about what he wears, showing how appallingly early African-American consciousness, through social and racial discrimination, begins.

Atlanta: Robbin’ Season is an undoubtedly remarkable follow-up to an already excellent first season. Its characters and story gain both in stature and relevance, making for an altogether exciting and still underrated series, in the image of its creator, Donald Glover, who is quickly becoming one of the decade’s most brilliant creative minds.

The last episode of Atlanta: Robbin’ Season came out on May 10th.

Discussion – ‘Being Blacker’

Emma Davis — Mon, 12 Mar 2018 16:58:27 +0000

Emma Davis considers Molly Dineen’s documentary about the Brixton neighbourhood icon ahead of its premiere on BBC2 tonight.

In Molly Dineen’s latest documentary Being Blacker, Brixton is the undercurrent to the life and philosophy of Blacker Dread. There is plenty inspiration to take from London’s people, places and its spirit. Even UCL’s own student productions of Brick Lane in Flux and Heimweh tackled the social consequences of Britain’s cultural and economic behemoth. It was easy to assume that this would be about Brixton’s changing identity – gentrification is a hot topic to discuss. But when Dineen focuses on Blacker, some more universal themes such as love, family, death, and masculinity come to light.

So, who is Blacker Dread? Most people in the audience at the March 5th BFI screening would know the answer to this, many being from Brixton. From his records shopfront, he would invite the community in any reason. People have fond memories of searching for their favourite reggae record, watching (and celebrating) Usain Bolt’s Olympic achievements, or accepting his offer to keep an eye on the youth when they encountered police. He is a cultural and social figurehead for the London district, with achievements in the reggae industry, and even met Nelson Mandela on his 1996 visit to Britain. Being Blacker, however, approaches our mythical hero by humanising him.

We meet Blacker’s oldest friend, Napthali, and his family, who are all affected by the loss of their matriarch in Blacker’s mother. However, as the events unfold, the intimacy and bond between individuals is unforgettable. The documentary has a home-movie feel. That is how the film began in its practical origins – Blacker had asked for a recording of his mother’s funeral from Dineen, a home-video that establishes the film’s core themes and catalyses the narrative course. After that, Dineen follows Blacker around his home and his shop, but she falls into the background easily, allowing the audience to get absorbed into the stakes of Blacker and those around him. At times, it is a little difficult to piece together the particular chronological point in film’s linear structure. Even so, Dineen’s flow is still smooth.

Unlike my own expectations, politics was not the forefront. When an audience member in the Q&A session asked if Blacker would pursue politics, he replied by indicating that he is more interested in mentoring and cultivating talent. Love is key to understanding Blacker – not only does it come from his belief in Rastafari, but how also in how he treats others. He is certain about who he cares for and it’s shown what he does for them. Blacker sacrifices for his own, and they do so in return. He is quite a character, but he has quite the heart as well.

And most bluntly, there is a challenge to the idea of happy immigration. His family attest to how he has a stronger affinity with Jamaica. From his own experience to his youngest son, life in Britain is not an opportunity, but a hindrance. The focus on Blacker and his son, and then some moments with Napthali, bring issues of masculinity to light. His son lives in Jamaica, thriving socially and academically, unlike in the UK where he was deemed a disruption. Napthali struggles to find employment with his criminal record and reflects on providing for his family. Blacker talks of ‘failure’ when people fall into crime: with family, with the state, or somewhere else. He denounces education as pillar for success (traditionally, what immigrants would rely on for social mobility) or political correctness to help form identity, but doesn’t refuse these for others. This intersection, between masculine success and Britain’s post-colonial legacy, is powerful.

Dineen’s last films were ten years ago, and her return to filmmaking is coupled with a return to her student film days when she made her first film about Blacker and his involvement with the reggae sound system culture of the 1980s. When an audience member called for a filmmaker like Dineen to make more films about underrepresented social topics, her response cites her responsibility as a parent. While the BFI so keenly promoted the support and purchasing of the work by female filmmakers before the screening started, there is still progress for female-made films to have a chance. There are obstacles in these films being made, not just for their distribution and consumption.

But certainly, the honest and intimate filmmaking of Being Blacker shines many truths. There are uncomfortable moments. The start is an actual funeral, and the privilege of Dineen attending the family affair is extended to the audience. Blacker and Naphtali experience their own difficulties in the years after, trying to make the best despite a society and its institutions stacked against them. There is some whiplash when confronted with current British youth. After being lulled in the experience and wisdom of older people like Blacker, Napthali and his family; there is a reminder of the institutional and physical violence against young Black British men now.

Whether or not you are an ethnic minority in the UK, it is quite easy to see that there are parts of Britain missing from mainstream exposure. Dineen revealed that it was difficult to release the documentary, as an executive said portraying Black British people as being involved with crime and violence was generalisation. This is hypocritical. If there were more content out there, there would be more instances for audience to reduce for their generalisations. As such, it is important to watch this observation of British life. Keep in mind, that it is a single British life — the experience of a singular Jamaican British man, very localised to the Brixton context. Such specificity doesn’t demean its importance, but rather elevates it, and there is still something universal to be found.

Being Blacker airs on BBC2 on March 12th at 9pm.

2017 in Netflix Shows

Pihla Pekkarinen — Fri, 29 Dec 2017 18:42:52 +0000

With new shows coming out practically every week, each one different from the last, it would be easy to get lost in the whirlwind, give up, and re-watch Friends for the hundredth time. And there’s nothing wrong with that; Friends is a classic. But in case you care to venture beyond it, UCL FilmSoc has put together a handy guide to some of our favourite shows released by Netflix in 2017. Whether you’re hoping to watch something completely new or wondering whether it’s worth catching up on the newest season of that one show you sort of liked but don’t really remember, this is the place to look. Hope you enjoy, and here’s to more bingeing in 2018!

Thirteen Reasons Why (Season 1, March 2017)

If you were young and alive in 2017, it would have been difficult to miss hearing the words Thirteen Reasons Why. Probably the most talked-about release from Netflix this year, this series – centred around a high school suicide victim – provoked both praise and indignation for its graphic depictions of subjects such as rape and self-harm. The characters in this adaptation of Jay Asher’s novel are marvellously complex, most of them neither evil nor angelic (in a remarkable improvement from the book the series is based on) and the young cast does a terrific job of portraying high school angst. However, it is impossible to escape the fact that the series is designed for mass teen viewership: it drifts in focus as it tries to cater to every high school fad and relies heavily on an attractive cast and cliffhangers designed for optimum bingeing. Therefore, though the show should be commended on its expert handling of difficult themes and, additionally, its effort in raising awareness for suicide prevention, I remain skeptical of the upcoming second season of original material. Whether the show will be able to build on its momentum and succeed without Hannah Baker’s narrative arc as a driving force remains to be seen.

Mindhunter (Season 1, October 2017)

David Fincher’s Mindhunter is nothing short of a success. Its renewal for a second season, before the series even premiered, is proof of Netflix’s trust in the master filmmaker, who seems to enjoy his time away from the big screen. With witty dialogue and strong leads, this show about FBI agents unravelling the minds of serial killers feels fresh and new while staying true to the genre. Mindhunter is not groundbreaking, but it is up there with recent years’ best crime shows, such as Hannibal or True Detective. Despite its underdeveloped female characters, it is reassuring to witness a director’s fearless transition to television, especially one who is able to shoot long dialogue scenes without boring the audience to death. A proud successor to Zodiac, its suspenseful openings and cliff-hanger will leave the viewer wanting more; and we can be certain Fincher will do everything at his disposal to tell the story the way he wants to, regardless of expectations. Mindhunter leaves in its audience’s mind a bizarre, eerie mark, suggesting that anybody could be(come) a murderer, if exposed to madness for too long.

When you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.

Master of None (Season 2, May 2017)

To think that dude who played background characters in those Judd Apatow-y films (okay, he was amazing as Tom Haverford in Parks and Recreation) would make and star in a genuinely brilliant TV show is crazy – but now we have to think it. Master of None’s tremendous first season was an incredibly fresh taste of quasi-ordinary city life, with wonderful writing and humour backed up by genuinely clever and developed themes. In Season 2, Aziz Ansari has retained the same humour while taking the series into audacious but exciting territory. Here he blends his comforting New York comedy (and added Italian twist) with more risky content, which could have been a disaster, but only adds to the show’s charm. Highlights include a wonderful episode on homosexuality and family, and the astonishing Robert Altman-esque episode New York, I Love You, which concretely transcends Ansari’s medium into something truly artistic – one of the greatest episodes of TV I’ve ever seen. His whacky ending and constant nods to Italian cinema makes the second season far less cohesive than the first, but its experimentation somehow almost always – against all the odds – works. I found myself baffled at not being able to name a current Netflix original with more stunning cinematography than a stand-up comedian’s comedy-drama brainchild. With his always topical themes Ansari gives us with true passion and insight into his mind, and it’s a pleasure. It is a testament to him that even Netflix, which already carries his show, has developed shows inspired by Master of None, like the recently renewed Easy. He might well be a new, not-a-sexual-predator (fingers crossed) Woody Allen.

Stranger Things (Season 2, October 2017)

The Duffer Brothers have hit the sweet spot for the second time with the new season of Stranger Things. Given that last season wrapped itself up rather nicely, it might have been a challenge to make this new season feel necessary beyond resolving the cheeky cliffhanger with Will Byers. It succeeds in most regards. There are elements that don’t work as well – Jonathan and Nancy’s subplot feels like a bit of a drag, especially compared to the ascension of Steve Harrington to one of the best and most endearing characters. On the whole, however, it’s great. The dynamic between the kids sparkles even more, the new character additions are terrific – in particular Sean Astin’s Bob – the special effects are far more refined, and most importantly it captures that same old nostalgic joy while taking the storyline in new, sometimes quite daring, directions. And of course, Eleven, played once again to perfection by Millie Bobby Brown, is as great as ever.

Better Call Saul (Season 3, April 2017)

It took a while, but Vince Gilligan and co. have finally found the spark to make the Breaking Bad spin-off about everyone’s favourite scoundrel lawyer-in-the-making, Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman (Bob Odenkirk), click consistently. The previous two seasons had featured some great episodes and performances, but never quite cohered to make anything more than ‘pretty good’ television. This season, which focuses its scope on the battle of wits between Jimmy and his manipulative, bitter older brother Chuck (an amazing Michael McKean), while Jonathan Banks’ Mike gets pulled further into the underworld of drug dealers, with the welcome return of some very familiar faces. The pacing of this season is excellent, with no wasted line or scene, and every supporting character gets to shine – from Michael Mando’s increasingly sympathetic gangster Nacho to Jimmy’s legal associate/lover Kim (Rhea Seehorn). It maintains a vibrant, cheeky sense of fun throughout, while also becoming an exceptionally compelling drama when it wants, most notably in the courtroom drama episode ‘Chicanery’. It’s a fantastic season in which the show seems to finally become its own beast, rather than just the offspring of Breaking Bad.

American Vandal (Season 1, September 2017)

One of the surprise delights of the year, American Vandal’s ‘Making a Murderer’ investigation of high school parking lot vandalism, works primarily thanks to its “serious” approach. It’s not potential simple laughs at the phallic graffiti but the solemn reactions to them that really sell the humour of the show. The series as a whole is a very satisfying deconstruction of the ‘true crime documentary’ genre, but is so much more than just that. It captures a surprisingly natural and realistic feel of high school life, and actually grants some genuine emotional investment to the proceedings. It’s not flawless; a few of the middle episodes turn their wheels a bit in order to generate more ‘drama’. But on the whole, it’s a considerable success.

Orange is the New Black (Season 5, June 2017)

Oh, Litchfield. Five seasons in, Orange is the New Black has thrived in its pairing of familiar community feeling with outrageous spontaneity, but for how long? The fifth season keeps up the formula but, with overconfidence, often misses its mark. Continuing the political themes of the Season 4, we find the inmates smack in the middle of a riot that seems to somehow be going pretty well despite the total anarchy ruling the prison corridors. Poussey’s murder looms over the action as an all-too-bleak reminder of the show’s more realistic plot turns, but the 13 episodes fail to smoothly bridge the leap from this tragedy to its more comedic elements. Additionally, the writing messes with some of the most complex and sensitive characters and their trajectories. Piscatella confusingly switches from loathsome guard, to pitiful lost soul, to some kind of monstrous embodiment of evil masculine energy. Pennsatucky apparently not only forgives but pursues a romantic relationship with her rapist. Alison, a black Hijab-wearing Muslim inmate, was a refreshing addition to the cast last season, but her flashback plummets exciting potential into sheer disappointment. (Polygamy, really? Great job basing Alison’s backstory on an ‘Islamic’ practice that barely exists in the American Muslim community.) The season’s lowlights are met with a few enlightened philosophical moments, but overall it’s a bit of a mess – an OINTB-style mess, and thus mostly forgivable – but a mess nonetheless. OITNB’s fifth season may have lost its way, but there is high chance the talented writers may salvage it yet.

One Day At A Time (Season 1, January 2017)

One Day at a Time is a CBS sitcom developed by Whitney Blake – no, wait. One Day at a Time, which mimics its namesake in the broad structure of single-mother-with-teenage-kids and little else, is a sharp, compassionate family comedy with its feet firmly rooted in Netflix’s 2017 demographic. We follow the life of Penelope Alvarez (Justina Machado), Afghanistan vet and exhausted nurse, whose (outspokenly Cuban) mother (scene-stealing Rita Moreno) sleeps behind the living room, (outspokenly feminist) teenage daughter Elena (Isabella Gomez) has taken objection to the prospect of a quinceañera, and (outspokenly twelve years old) son is… twelve. (Sorry, Alex [Marcel Ruiz] – he rounds out the family perfectly well, just tends to take a back seat to the powerhouse women around him. To which this reviewer has no objection.) Throw in a halfway-to-self-aware white neighbour and Penelope’s addled colleagues, and you’ve got a recipe for hilarious and pointed takes on parenting, life after war, diaspora culture and plenty more in one of this year’s overlooked gems. If you do feel like catching up, you’d better hurry – the second season will be out on the 26th of January.

Big Mouth (Season 1, September 2017)

Adult-oriented cartoons have found new life in recent years with shows like Rick and Morty and Bojack Horseman. The latest feat in this genre is Big Mouth, a thoroughly funny time capsule that transports you back into life at thirteen. The early teen years are a sore memory for most, and Big Mouth unapologetically pokes fun at every aspect of tweendom: zits, hormones, awkwardness, and – most of all – horniness. The hormone monsters, stuck-in-high-school Coach Steve and the ghost of Duke Ellington, incite bursts of uncontrollable laughter and invite Netflix to employ it’s “Still Watching?” feature as you inevitably binge the short episodes back-to-back. Some of the moments are a little hard to swallow (pregnant pillow, anyone?), but if you don’t mind crude humour and are looking to shed any rose-colored glasses you might still view your middle school years through, Big Mouth is definitely the show for you.

Bojack Horseman (Season 4, September 2017)

Hilarious yet heartbreaking in equal measure, BoJack Horseman has – for good reason – joined the ranks of the absolute best of not just Netflix, but of what animation has to offer on the small screen. Over the course of four seasons the show has skewered Hollywoo(d) and celebrity culture in ways that leave both those completely out of the loop and those following the film industry with a fine-tooth comb rolling on the floor with laughter, while packing an immense emotional punch, particularly through its portrayal of mental health issues and how society views them. It’s an incredibly silly premise that the show fully commits to and delivers on (animal puns aplenty); and while all that’s happening, it doesn’t shy away from pushing boundaries (the dialogue-free Season 3 episode ‘Fish out of Water’ has been hailed as some of 2016’s absolute best television) and tackling more emotional and tougher subjects with a surprising amount of gravity. And the cherry on the top is the cast: not only the voice actors (including Will Arnett as the titular horse, Alison Brie, Amy Sedaris, Paul F. Tompkins, Aaron Paul, Stanley Tucci, Olivia Wilde) but the countless animated celebrity cameos – sometimes voiced by the stars themselves.

The Get Down: Part 2 (April 2017)

2017 saw the return (and subsequent cancellation) of Baz Luhrmann’s The Get Down, set in New York City, 1978. Disco and hip hop mingle on hot summer nights in the Bronx; dreams are born and pursued; young people fall in love. I loved the setting of this show and the evocative cultural moment it captured, as well as most of the performances; Jaden Smith’s “Dizzee” Kipling aka graffiti artist Rumi 411 is the real laugh. The show was good, descending into decent by Part 2, but never great. And with a $120 million budget (The Get Down was Netflix’s most expensive show to date), you need great. Subverting expectations that the funds and creative team would take the show above and beyond television expectations, its narrative unfortunately sagged and became riddled with plot holes by Part 2, leaving only the excess of stylistic detail and shimmery dance sequences behind to support its appeal. The Atlantic rightly called it “the show that could’ve been”. Personally, I applaud the effort, very successful at times, and especially commend The Get Down’s diverse cast and killer soundtrack.

The OA (Season 1, December 2016)

From the fertile minds of Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij, the OA hits all the right spots. Written by by both, directed by Batmanglij, and starring Marling, the two continue to explore a cinematic partnership refined through years of collaboration. Both have backgrounds in film – the show’s cinematic structure is owed to this. However, Batmanglij has made full use of the episodic structure allowing for some sharp cliff-hangers. The show deals with very interesting themes, including consciousness, the afterlife, and near-death experiences. This is not surprising when surveying Marling and Batmanglij’s previous filmic pursuits (Sound of My Voice, Another Earth, I Origins). The plot centres around Prairie (Marling), a blind girl who disappeared several ears ago, returns to a Middle-American small-town with her sight restored and a whirlwind of a tale. The use of a plot riddled with twists and turns allows Batmanglij to explore of a plethora of interesting themes without neglecting audience entertainment. Sometimes it seems Marling and Batmanglij are so excited by their own ideas that they repeat them to the point of self-indulgence. Nevertheless, the show boasts beautiful visuals and good writing. The latter is a testament to polyvalence; Marling and Batmanglij managed to work in a selection of mood-board interesting concepts – from Russian aristocracy to Hans Christian Anderson to Stockholm syndrome. Combined, these concepts work together to create an extremely suspenseful, fantastical genre-bending drama. Sci-fi? Let’s have it. Fantasy? Toss some of that in there. Mystery? Why not. Coming-of-age? Sure. The show treads some familiar ground, and the question running throughout – whether we can believe Brit Marling’s fantastical tale – is not of huge importance to the plot. All in all, Marling and Batmanglij have managed to create a wildly entertaining show. It is thrilling. They know this.