Ted Lasso, Rom-Coms, and Emotional Vulnerability

Why is it important that a show about men who play soccer did a rom-com homage?

Dickinson Behind-the-Scenes: An Interview With the Artisans

Meet the artists who brought the Apple TV+ series to life!

If You Like This, Watch That

Looking for a new TV series to watch? We recommend them based on your preference for musicals, ensemble shows, mysteries, and more!

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

New Girl 3x11 "Clavado En Un Bar" (How Do You Know When You're On the Right Path?)


"Clavado En Un Bar"
Original Airdate: January 7, 2014

On Tuesday night, I sat around with my twenty-something friends and we all discussed how we are each unhappy with our current job situations or our situation in life. It’s funny: when you’re a kid, you make up all sorts of things you will grow up to be. You think you’ll be a flight attendant or a doctor or a veterinarian. But the truth is that adults never tell you that you’ll likely have dozens of jobs as you grow – you’ll grow from earning a few dollars an hour as a babysitter to a retail or restaurant job, cashiering or bussing tables. And then you’ll go to college. You’ll probably work odd jobs making whatever money you can, tutoring or keeping that retail or restaurant job to pay for your insanely expensive textbooks and macaroni and cheese dinners. And then, if you’re very fortunate, when you graduate from college you’ll likely slip into a “bottom rung of the ladder” job. You’ll stay there for a few years and that’s where the story of me and my friends picks up. You see, we each have had our jobs for about two or two and a half years and now we’re in our mid-twenties and suddenly we’re struck with this growing desire to leave our jobs and find something else, something better. We want to stop going through the motions of our 9-to-5 and find something that we are passionate about. We want to get paid to do THAT, not to sit at a desk for the entire duration of the morning and afternoon and sink into some sort of bottomless spiral of blandness.

We all are at the point in our lives in which we are ready to switch our jobs. Ironically enough, this is where we meet Jess Day in “Clavado En Un Bar,” the first New Girl episode back from hiatus. We soon learn that she’s been volunteering at a children’s museum in her spare time and was just offered a job by her friend to work for their fundraising department. But in order to accept the job at the museum, Jess would have to give up her teaching position and that is where she begins to struggle. What does she WANT in life? And are her wants dictated by her circumstances or are they independent of them? Jess’ school situation is a lot less than ideal, as we come to realize, seemingly making her potential decision to leave an easier one. And so, “Clavado En Un Bar” finds all of the characters in the loft (and Schmidt and, later on, Cece) relaying the stories of how they obtained the job that they have now, and each person gives Jess a piece of advice regarding her impending decision. Because oh… did I mention? Jess has about 21 minutes to make her choice (what a great use of the actual running time of the show. And though it’s not TECHNICALLY a bottle episode, it’s essentially a bottle episode for the characters, which makes it amazing).

This episode is comparable to “Virgins” in terms of storytelling and what I loved so much about that episode was how much it illuminated these characters’ wants, motives, and histories and wove them together in order to give us as audience members a better understanding of who Nick, Jess, Schmidt, Winston, and Cece (and now Coach, too) were and – more importantly – WHY they were that way. Berkley Johnson did a tremendous job with “Clavado En Un Bar” which is one of my favorite episodes from this season because of how integral and touching it is with regards to everyone’s character development (especially Nick). But before I discuss how exceptional the writing in the episode, the jokes, and the return of Fat Schmidt were, let’s discuss the plot, shall we?

As Nick, Winston, and Schmidt settle in for a scotch tasting at the bar and vow to have a relaxing evening, Jess bursts in, downs their drinks, and then informs them all that she has exactly twenty-one minutes to make a decision that could alter the rest of her life. (The guys are understandably baffled by the news and her behavior.) As Jess begins to explain to Schmidt and Winston that she’s become friendly with the head curator at the children’s museum where she volunteers and has been not-so-subtly been told that she should work there full-time, Nick excuses himself to go deal with a patron. I say “deal with” and it sounds harsh, so let me rephrase: Nick excuses himself to go take care of a patron. The element of this episode that I loved most of all was getting the opportunity to see Nick Miller in an entirely new light. I already loved and adored him as the grumpy and curmudgeonly bartender, but just as Jess starts to see Nick as someone passionate and kind, not unmotivated or a failure, I do too. You see, Nick really loves his job at the bar. I mean, he complains about it and it is agitating at times, but he genuinely loves what he does. And I think that’s inspiring, really, because as my friends revealed last night, most of them actually don’t hate their jobs. They’re not where they want to be in life necessarily, but they don’t hate what they do. Nick doesn’t hate bartending; in fact, he genuinely loves it. And I think we’ve always come to presume that bartending is an easy, mindless job with little to no payoff or actual benefit to it. Schmidt and Winston and nearly every character on the series has demeaned Nick and, consequently, his job. But when Nick excuses himself from Jess’ conversation, it’s to prevent an elderly drunk patron from driving home. Nick apparently plays a “hide the car keys” game with him so often that he’s named it as such. And you know… this was actually the first moment in the episode I began to feel more tenderness toward Nick’s profession than I think I ever had before. He’s making a difference as a bartender and he’s actually looking out for the well-being of others. He CARES and it shows. That’s pretty wonderful.

A few feet away, Jess is discussing her horrible school situation with the guys (apparently other teachers and their students are being shoved into her classroom, likely for months) and then notes that Candace, the museum curator, officially offered her the job and wants an answer that night. The guys are attempting to wrap their minds around the idea of Jess not being a schoolteacher and are finding it difficult. And see, that is one of the things I loved about this episode and that I have enjoyed about the arc with Jess’ job: we see her the way that we see ourselves, trying to define ourselves by the career that we have. Jess is a teacher – she thinks of herself as only a teacher and it’s difficult for her to imagine who she would be if she was separated from that. Because remember that she WAS separated from that image (“Relaunch”) and she struggled deeply. What “Clavado En Un Bar” allows us and Jess to realize though is that she was a teacher long before she ever had her first real classroom, and this means that Jess isn’t defined by her profession. Quite contrary: Jess’ personality just so happens to be her profession.

So she asks Winston, Nick, Coach, and Schmidt a question: “How do you know when you’re on the right path?” The guys contemplate rather silently until Jess notes that her question wasn’t rhetorical. Winston is the first to tell the story of how he obtained his current job (because he is a professional career path-changer), but not before Nick tries to give Jess a motivational speech about choosing the right career path. The other men groan at Nick and Schmidt notes that Nick’s job could essentially be performed by a vending machine. Knowing what the audience knows at the end of the episode, rewatching this scene (and any scene in which someone pokes fun of Nick’s job or lack of motivation) is quite sad because Nick is genuinely attempting to give his girlfriend some heartfelt advice. Everyone dismisses Nick though, including Jess, and Winston discusses how he chose to leave his basketball career behind him.

(As an aside, I love when characters in New Girl tell stories because – just like real life – the other characters interject throughout.)

So Winston discusses his basketball career, informing Jess that he was a benched player who was barely allowed to practice, but that he still didn’t quit. In fact, the coach encouraged Winston to join the outdoor Latvian basketball league which… practiced on a hill. It was there that Winston, unable to stop himself from racing down the side of the hill, hurt his ankle and was told by the doctor that he would never play basketball again. Each person who shares a story with Jess leaves her with a piece of advice that was influenced by their own story. Winston’s advice? “Walk away the moment you stop loving [your job].”

The problem, of course, that Winston then realizes is that he… well, he never actually MADE a decision to change his career. The decision was essentially made for him. (Which is another sub-category of changing career paths, really.) What I truly loved was the brilliant, if unintentional, parallelism between Winston in “Virgins” and this episode: after he reveals his stories in both episodes, he begins to question everything he knows about himself, his life, and the important moments within them. It’s played for laughs, obviously, because it’s quite funny to see Winston try and defend his version of reality to the group, but it’s also kind of sad because… well, Winston never gets to have a win. He’s like the Charlie Brown of New Girl.

As Winston questions everything he knows about life, Nick takes the opportunity to attempt, once again, to give his girlfriend solid advice. But Winston’s sad story propels Schmidt to relay his own, and I’ll be honest: I presumed that Schmidt’s revelation about his career decisions would begin and end exactly like Barney Stinson’s did in How I Met Your Mother’s “Game Night.” (I’m glad that it didn’t, for the record.) Schmidt’s characterization this season has been a point of contention among the fandom but “Clavado En Un Bar” was a natural return to Schmidt’s inherent (but well-intentioned) douchey behavior. Gone was the awkward and depressed cloud that seemed to loom above his head throughout the first half of the season and back was the lightheartedness that we have come to associate with Schmidt. I do believe that the writers did a great job in villainizing Schmidt without assassinating his character in the process. I will say though that I am quite pleased with how well this episode developed Schmidt, in addition to Nick. Though each character attempts to give Jess advice in making a decision, all of the other characters (save for Coach) make decisions themselves by the episode’s end.

Schmidt’s career path began as a volunteer candy striper, where he had a crush on one of the nurses. And when the good-looking and well-dressed boyfriend of aforementioned nurse kissed his girlfriend goodbye, wearing a fancy suit, Schmidt wondered aloud where someone had to volunteer to land a girl like that. The man informed him that it wasn’t about volunteering: it was about being a man and working in marketing. (And to be honest, I presumed that we would then see Schmidt a la Barney lose weight and become a marketing executive.) Instead, Schmidt notes that he couldn’t get a job in marketing, so he worked at a Christmas tree lot and became quite skilled at selling Christmas trees to other people. Eventually, his knack for selling trees earned him the attention of an old, wealthy man who then had a heart attack on the Christmas tree lot. When Schmidt visits him in the hospital on his death bed, the elderly man tells Schmidt that money – above everything else – is the most important thing. And thus, Schmidt was spurred on to become the Schmidt we see in the present.

Jess isn’t entirely sold on the message of the story, and Schmidt drops his own nugget of truth from the tale on her once she reveals that the museum job pays more than her teaching position: “Follow them duckets.” (Winston, wisely, tells the man that it isn’t always about money.) Jess is beginning to grow frustrated as it gets closer to six o’clock and she’s further from making a decision than when she began her conversation with the guys. She knows that there has to be something more to choosing a career path than simply the desire to make money: she wants to care about what she does. And I truly love that about Jess and – spoiler – I love that we get an amazing reveal that also focuses on this aspect of Nick’s characterization. We tend to think of Jess and Nick as fundamental opposites: she’s optimistic, he’s pessimistic; she’s outgoing, he’s curmudgeonly. But the fact that both Nick and Jess want to care about their careers and genuinely mean that is significant and perhaps the most important truth that can be drawn between both characters.

Coach then relays his own “origin story,” as it were. It turns out that Coach’s real name is not Coach but Ernie. Schmidt and Nick merely observed how much he coached the players at Winston’s basketball game and the nickname stuck. Jess isn’t sure what she should take away from the tale, but Coach explains: “Don’t over-think it; the call comes from inside the house. Be who you are and do what you do.”

Coach’s advice, while practical in theory, leaves Jess more confused and uncertain than ever. She’s not sure of who she is, but – more than that – Jess knows that there is potential for her to excel at many different things and doesn’t know how to choose between those. Nick wonders aloud whether or not it would benefit Jess for her to think about the first day she ever taught school in order to give her clarity and assurance on a decision. So Jess recounts her first student and how she was able to aid a student who had been bullied, began tutoring him, and watched him become the best math student in the entire school. Reminiscing was Nick’s way of attempting to encourage Jess that she was in the right field and making a difference in the lives of the students.

… Well, until Nick decides to Google that former student and it’s revealed that he is wanted by the FBI for embezzlement. Uh-oh. Jess is more lost than ever, now wondering if she had ever impacted a single student in her life. Nick can see that Jess is struggling with not just her impending decision but with her self-esteem and he does what any great boyfriend would do: he tells her a story to encourage her. Nick’s story begins in law school, where his professor advised that one student in their class would drop out before the following year.

Nick reveals that he hated being around his former law students, but during his second year of school, he hated being around himself. I think that THIS was the most impactful moment for me in Nick’s flashback tale: he was doing well and yet he still hated himself. We tend to think of Nick as a self-loathing guy because of his failures. Because of the fact that he dropped out of law school. Or because of the fact that he works in a bar and lives with roommates and is in his 30s. But the sheer irony is that at his MOST successful (he wasn’t the person who dropped out after his first year), Nick was unhappy with who he was. That really struck me, quite frankly, because Winston’s advice to Jess echoes in Nick’s tale. Nick wasn’t happy with who he was becoming, so he sought a place where he would enjoy the people he was surrounded by.

That place, as it turns out, was the bar. In it, Nick found solace. And though he didn’t love law school, his grades were great and he signed himself up for the California State Bar. But one day, the bartender passed out and Nick stepped up and became a bartender. There’s more to the story, as we will soon discover, but Jess has two minutes to make a life-altering decision and she’s no closer to choosing than she was nineteen minutes earlier. As Cece approaches the bar, Jess looks to her best friend for clarity and advice. Cece corrects a statement that Jess makes, though: Clifton – the man wanted by the FBI – wasn’t Jess’ first student.

It is then that Cece reminds Jess of a story: it’s the story of how she first met her best friend. Cece was in the library, struggling to read a book having spent so much time crying, and struggling even more to understand what she was reading when Jess approached her. The little girls bonded over their eyesight woes before Cece revealed that she just recently lost her father. Nose pressed to the book, Jess tells Cece that she’s always welcome to come to her house and listen to her dad rant and rave about things. This makes Cece feel better momentarily and – uncaring about if someone sees her – Cece presses her nose to the book so that she can read better.

In the present, Cece tells Jess: “I was your first student,” which touches both Jess and the audience. It’s a great reminder that these two have a wonderful, beautiful friendship. And honestly I hope we get to explore their relationship even further as the series continues. Jess’ joy is short-lived, however, when her phone rings and she finally delivers her answer to Candace: she’s turning down the job offer. The gang celebrates Jess making a decision and as Winston, Schmidt, and Coach depart, Jess appears to still be unsettled by her choice in career path. Nick and Cece share a look (isn’t it lovely that these are the two people who know Jess best in the world now?) and Nick attempts to reassure Jess that even though her decision was difficult to make, it was the RIGHT one.

Meanwhile, Nick’s motivation (and his argument with Cece and Jess over whether “A League of Their Own” is classified primarily as a sports movie) is interrupted by Kevin, the drunk and elderly patron from earlier, singing to himself. Nick then pours the elderly man a shot… of tea. As it turns out, Kevin’s sister worries about her brother’s drinking so Nick gets into the bar early and soaks tea in water so that it resembles alcohol and then serves it to the man. I honestly was so impressed by this scene because it’s such a subtle way – again – of showing the audience how MUCH Nick cares for the people he interacts with and how this isn’t just a mindless, dead-end job for him. He cares about bartending and he cares about the people who step foot into the bar. Just like he does with his friends and family, Nick takes care of them.

At school, Jess has managed to make the best of a bad situation. She’s taken charge over her classroom and managed to incorporate all of the other teachers’ subjects into her own curriculum. Principal Foster expresses how pleased he is with Jess for managing to make the best of a bad situation and then informs her that he’s going to tell the important staff and/or board members… how much they can count on him. Jess’ mood could have easily dissolved into disappointment and disheartenment, but instead – as she informs the guys at the bar later that night – she’s using Foster as motivation to accomplish a new goal: if HE can become a principal, why can’t she? And I love this version of Jess, quite frankly. I love how much she cares about her job, but I also love that she never lets seeming defeat get in the way of her dreams and goals. She wants to be in a place where she can make a difference in the lives of those around her (don’t we all?) and so she is constantly optimistic.

Jess’ decision-making process had an impact on Winston, too, as he decided to quit his job. Recognizing the fact that he has never really made any career decisions on his own, he quits his job as a sports radio host (burning every bridge possible as he does so). Unfortunately for Winston, he then cannot decide what he wants to drink at the bar. I feel you, Winston. I can make large-scale decisions, but never small-scale ones. Meanwhile, Cece slides… er, FLINGS Winston’s drink at him because she’s started a job as a bartender. After listening to Jess’ struggle, Cece realized that she could try something besides modeling. And since she doesn’t know exactly what she wants to be, bartending is Nick’s solution.

And as the group celebrates, Nick finishes his story for Jess by removing a piece of paper from his pocket. Jess reads it and is stunned: Nick passed the California State Bar. He explains that he “wanted to prove that [he] dropped out of law school because [he] wanted to be a bartender, not because [he] couldn’t be a lawyer.” And in that moment, the audience and Jess has a newfound respect for Nick: he’s not a slacker who didn’t finish law school because he couldn’t handle its pressures. He’s not a loser or someone who is unmotivated. And now, looking back at all the ways Schmidt (throughout the episode especially) and Winston and Coach and Cece and even Jess used to demean and insult Nick’s job actually pains me. And I think it pains Jess momentarily too, to realize that the man she’s dating IS capable of everything and it’s not all in her head and she’s not projecting her expectations on him and she’s not going to “make him better” or more motivated or successful. The truth of the matter is that Nick could have been a lawyer – he could have had the suits and the cars and the wealth and the prominence, but he CHOSE not to. And that is such an amazing decision made by the writers because it puts the power of the decision in Nick’s hands and it makes him so much more wonderful as a character. I love that Nick chose to do something that made him happy and that he was good at over something that made him miserable but that he was also good at.

The beauty and tragedy is that people often see what they want to see when they look at career choices: they look at having more money as having more happiness and having a higher education or a better degree as more successful. But what Nick’s advice to Jess is at the end of the episode is the advice she needed to hear all along: “I want this. It makes me happy.” Life’s too short to be in a place where you’re miserable. And even though Jess’ job situation is less than ideal, I think that she recognizes the truth in Nick’s words – as she looks around the bar, she IS happy. And perhaps that’s the takeaway lesson from “Clavado En Un Bar”: you may be stuck in a job you don’t like or stuck in circumstances that aren’t ideal, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still find happiness.

And I think that’s a message that my twenty-something year old friends and I definitely need to apply to our hearts.

Additional de-lovely aspects about the episode include:
  • I knew the episode would be awesome when Schmidt began to describe the scotch.
  •  “Who’s anti-future?” “I don’t know… the Amish, the dying, the television industry, print media, the record industry, railroad industry, karaoke machine owners…”
  • “Well you have found my flabbergast button and guess what? You’ve pressed it.”
  • “… That story contains ZERO decisions.”
  • “Invisible? You were like a three hundred pound wall of peppermint bark.”
  • “What if someone gave baby Winston a flower? Then what would I be?” “BEEKEEPER!” “Hummingbird farmer.”
  • “Yeah, that’s right. We had an ethnic, gay bully.”
  • “Love you in that scarf. Why don’t you wear scarves anymore?” Schmidt’s interjection into Nick’s flashback was the ACTUAL BEST.
  • The girl that they cast to play young Cece IS SO SPOT-ON IT’S ALMOST SCARY.
  • “Yes, of course, all of my quotes are from sports movies.”
  • The tag directly ties into the episode and it’s LOVELY because it focuses on Schmidt walking past a Christmas tree farm and then enters and begins to talk to a man about purchasing a tree. He slips back into Fat Schmidt Christmas Tree Marketer mode and it’s just so wonderful because it reminds us that Fat Schmidt is really there, beneath the surface of this new Schmidt, and that he’s a guy who doesn’t forget where he came from or what has made him into the person he is today.
Thank you all for reading this review! I’ll back next week for my review of “Basketsball.” Until then! :)

Friday, January 3, 2014

5x02 "Introduction to Teaching" (Welcome to Greendale, Mr. Winger)

Community: “Repilot” and “Introduction to Teaching” Review ...

"Introduction to Teaching"
Original Airdate: January 2, 2014

I had one professor in my entire college career that I really connected with. It was at Palm Beach Atlantic University, a really small school located in West Palm Beach which is probably the nicest place in the world to go to school. My professor, David Athey, was the man who taught me the most about creative writing. I took two classes from him. I was a co-editor of our school’s literary journal. I’ll never forget the moment I knew I was one of Athey’s favorite students: he was going to have to miss class and instead of cancelling it, he asked ME to lead the class. I was delighted because let’s be honest, I love control and organization and I’m Annie Edison. So I sat outside with my Creative Writing for Publication class and led everyone in discussion and critiques. And I was so proud to do it.

David Athey taught me a lot. He was the first person who made me realize that I was truly passionate about writing but also that I could always improve. He reminded me to find my voice and to never stop trying, submitting poetry, and – most importantly – no matter how many rejection letters I received, he always encouraged me to never stop writing. I’ve found few college professors to be as influential as he was in my life, but that’s my personal experience. Every college classmate I’ve spoken to has a David Athey – they have someone who invested in them or impacted them in some way, shape, or form. This notion of what a person can mean to someone else, this relational experience, really, is at the forefront of Community’s second episode “Introduction to Teaching.” In the episode, Jeff reluctantly settles into the role of teacher, but doesn’t want to change his behavior in spite of the new position. Annie, meanwhile, is at her best as she attempts to motivate Jeff into becoming a better person for his students. Elsewhere, Abed sets out to accomplish his goal for the year (becoming better at working with other people) and takes a class on Nicolas Cage with Troy, Shirley, and Britta. But he struggles when he’s asked to categorize Cage as an actor as either good or bad. And he realizes what we could all use a reminder of: people aren’t strictly good or bad. In my New Girl review (a.k.a what I occupied my time with during hiatus) of “The Box,” I explained that Schmidt spent the entirety of the episode asking the wrong question. The question shouldn’t be “am I a good person?” but instead should be: “is what I am DOING good?” And Abed realizes this at the end of the episode, I believe, in regards to Nicolas Cage but also in regards to PEOPLE. People can’t be shoved into neat little boxes with labels on them. The moment you try to label someone definitively is the moment that you drive yourself and them crazy with expectations and limitations.

But before we get too deep into what it means to be a good actor or bad actor or how Jeff and Annie and the newly introduced Professor Buzz Hickey feature into this episode, let’s review the plot of “Introduction to Teaching,” shall we?

5x01 "Repilot" (We're All Story Circles in the End)

Dual Redundancy: TV Review: Community 501/502: "Repilot ...

"Repilot"
Original Airdate: January 2, 2014

I tell the story of how this blog started every chance that I get.

I like telling it, because looking back on how the blog began gives me perspective, not just on my writing but on life in general. I began writing about Community during its third season. My first blog-review was read probably three times (and two of those were likely by Jaime). And then I wrote my “Geography of Global Conflict” review. Looking back on it, it’s not spectacular. But I was proud of it at the time because it was long and because I had put my heart and soul into analyzing the episode. So I tweeted it to Dan Harmon. And then Dan Harmon replied:



My life, quite literally, has not been the same. Two years, 160 blog posts, and over 75,000 pageviews later, I’ve learned a lot about myself as a writer. I’ve learned a lot about television and pop culture. I’ve struggled and I’ve encountered writers’ block. And the reason that I tell the story of how this blog began is because it’s impossible to move ahead until you remember where you started. I’ve never taken the fact that Dan Harmon tweeted me lightly, even though to most people, an 140-character message wouldn’t seem that important. But that tweet was. And what resulted from that tweet – the friendships, the writing, the struggles and the triumphs – has taught me about who I am as a person. It’s reminded me that I could have quit this blog a long time ago. That tweet reminds me that sometimes it takes something seemingly insignificant to change your trajectory. It reminds me to take risks because you’re more likely to miss out on something amazing if you don’t.

When I reviewed Community during our first (long and dark) hiatus, I started something called #CommunityRewatch. “Regional Holiday Music” had ended, and I realized that the best way to continue to appreciate my favorite series would be to remember where it started from – to remember where all of these characters had begun their journeys. And what I found when I re-watched the pilot episode was this: all of my beloved characters had grown and evolved throughout the course of three and a half seasons. At their cores, there were still these kernels of truth buried there. They’re truths that Abed notes in “Remedial Chaos Theory.” But what happens over the course of five years is that people change. They grow. They progress or regress and sometimes they do both within the course of twenty minutes. That’s what I took away from the pilot when I re-watched it, really. I recognized Jeff Winger… but barely. In fact, in my review, I noted that he wasn’t necessarily unrecognizable. He was incomplete. In “Regional Holiday Music,” Jeff was a guy who realized that he had a group of people who loved him, who would ALWAYS love him. He cared about those people. But in the pilot? In the pilot Jeff is coming out of a place of loss – he lost his job. He lost his life. He lost his pride and his recognition and his fake Bachelor’s degree. When people act from a place of loss, it’s never very good.

“Repilot” finds Jeff back at the very beginning (which, if you’re a singing nun, is a very good place to start). We find him in nearly the exact same place as we did in the pilot. But there’s a little something different about this Jeff Winger – he’s been changed. Over the course of four years at Greendale, whether he liked it or not, six people changed his entire life. But as we’ll soon discover in “Repilot,” just because you’ve been changed by a person or people or circumstances doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt again. There’s this story circle that Dan Harmon has that I’ve always been fascinated with. The final step of the circle? The character returns to their familiar situation “having changed.” But what happens with a circle is this – it never stops moving. Dan Harmon never constructed a “story line” or a “story mountain” for a reason. He’s a smart guy: he knows that characters don’t move from point A to point B and then stop. He knows that characters (and people for that matter) never stop growing and evolving and changing and screwing up and finding themselves at rock bottom and then being changed. Our lives are circles, not lines or mountains. Whenever we accomplish a task, we move onto the next one. Whenever we hit rock bottom, we find a way to pull ourselves back. We keep moving. We’re all stories in the end. We’re ALL circles.

(But before I get too deep or analytical, let’s talk about the plot of “Repilot,” shall we?)

Friday, December 27, 2013

A Year In Review: 2013 (More Superlatives, Ahoy!)


I thought that I would review some of the highlights in television, movies, and music from this past year, while looking forward to the year ahead.

Ready?

Set?

RECAP!

Monday, December 23, 2013

A Farewell to Matt Smith: Eleven's 11 Best Lines/Monologues


When I began to watch Doctor Who, I was advised to take a break between the Tenth and Eleventh Doctor’s eras. I didn’t understand why, of course, until I watched “The End of Time” and sat at my desk, sobbing uncontrollably. I didn’t want David Tennant to leave. I didn’t care who the next Doctor would be, really. I just knew that my Converse-wearing, “allons-y”-shouting, great-haired Doctor would be gone. And under the guidance of those friends, I took a break from marathoning Doctor Who.

It’s the best advice I can ever give to someone watching new Who, really. I feel like too many people breeze through the Doctors and don’t really take the opportunity to mourn them. You lose something when you lose a Doctor – whether it’s Nine, Ten, or now Eleven – and if you don’t wait at least a little while before picking the series back up, you’ll never quite appreciate the actor who replaced your beloved. If I hadn’t waited before beginning season five, I would have spent the entirety of the rest of the series lamenting the fact that Matt Smith wasn’t David Tennant – that Eleven was nothing like Ten. And honestly, I DID do that throughout 90% of “The Eleventh Hour.” I was skeptical of this new face; he wasn’t like Tennant at all. He was younger and sillier and he talked with his hands and babbled.

But the end of “The Eleventh Hour” changed my perception. As “I Am the Doctor” swelled and the audience saw flashes of each Doctor’s regenerated face, I felt the sudden sense that this new Doctor – Eleven – was not a child. He might have been younger than Ten and he might have been a bit goofy but he was also every bit as determined and strong and willing to defend the planet. He was epic. He was a hero.

Over the years, Matt Smith has really grown on me, to the point where I now cannot tell you exactly which Doctor (Ten or Eleven) is my true favorite. I’m going to miss Matt Smith a lot, who brought this quiet sort of intensity to his Doctor. He was unsuspecting but not to be dismissed. He could be cold like Nine and full of self-loathing like Ten. He was a man with nothing to lose and should therefore not be trifled with. He had fantastic episodes (“A Good Man Goes to War” is my favorite new Who episode of all time and one of Matt Smith’s best episodes), brilliant co-stars and companions and some pretty epic emotional moments. And he put EVERYTHING out there as The Doctor. Literally, his transformation from series five until now is just astounding. He’s physically aged, of course, but you see the aging of the Doctor with him. You see those “big sad eyes” and the pain and heartache that occasionally drags him down. You see every single emotion of The Doctor in Matt Smith’s face and I cannot adequately express how much I will miss him.

As Eleven, Matt Smith has been fortunate to have had some amazing and memorable lines and speeches. He’s a master at delivering a monologue, and Moffat has given him plenty of meaty, emotional, and gut-wrenching material because of it. So I decided that in order to celebrate Matt Smith’s era and send him on a proper farewell, I’d revisit eleven of the best lines/monologues from Eleven’s era.

Grab those tissues, cuddle up with your TARDIS blanket and head below the cut, because we’re counting down some of the best moments in Matt Smith’s era now!

Saturday, December 21, 2013

Jenn's Pick: My Top 10 Must-Watch Christmas Movies


It’s no surprise that I love Christmas. I love everything about the holiday, from the twinkling lights to the carols and warm, fuzzy feeling that spreads throughout your chest at the sight of stockings and trees and presents. Most of all, I love settling into a comfy pair of pajamas, sipping a cup of hot chocolate and putting a good Christmas movie into the DVD player. So, in the spirit of Christmas, I decided to make a list of some of my must-watch holiday films. Most of these are from my childhood and hold a sentimental place in my heart (ANOTHER staple of Christmas, really!).

Which films made my cut? You’re just going to have to click below the cut to find out!

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Jenn's Pick: Top 10 Christmas Episodes of a TV Comedy Series


I love Christmas.

I love everything about the holiday: the music, the lights, the warm feeling you get whenever you look out your window and see snow spiraling onto the pavement. Or, in my case, whenever you don a pair of sunglasses and tank top and head outside to soak up the 85-degree weather.

(Ah, Florida.)

Nevertheless, Christmastime is my favorite time of year, and nearly every television show makes the decision to do a Christmas-themed episode. I’ve narrowed down my list to ten of my favorite yuletide episodes in comedy series. It was difficult to choose because there are SO many amazing Christmas episodes out there, but I feel pretty good about my selection. So what episodes made my “nice” list?

Grab some Christmas cookies, hot chocolate, and cuddle up with my top ten favorite Christmas-themed comedy episodes!