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Friday, January 9, 2015

Jenn's Pick: Top Ten Most Emotional Moments in 'Parenthood'


When I first started my marathon of Parenthood, under the prompting of my roommate and my sister, they told me that I would cry. HA. That was the understatement of the century, perhaps. No show on television has made me overtly weep like Parenthood has throughout its six seasons. And as the show is gearing up to take its final bow (though I wish so much that it wouldn't), I thought I would try to rank some of the moments throughout the series that I found to be most emotional. Some of these will be familiar and some moments I chose are more "happy crying" than anything else.

And here's the reason that I think Parenthood has struck such an emotional chord within its viewers over the years: when people ask you what the series is about, you pause and contemplate for a moment, and then you tell them: "It's about a big family." That's it. That is all Parenthood really is about. But that is precisely the reason why it's such a stellar series. It is REAL. It is raw. It is full of the things that many of us encounter on a daily basis and it is is full of characters that we know in our real lives. It's a show about the human experience. If there ever was a show that completely encapsulated what it is like to be a normal, living, human being then Parenthood would be it. Nothing extremely out of the ordinary happens to these characters. They win some battles and lose others. They love each other. Marriages fall apart and are repaired. People cheat. People lie. People drink and drive. People get into college. Some people don't. Everything that happens on this show is real in a way that you'd be hard-pressed to find in any other television show. And because it feels so real -- because it IS so real -- the emotional moments are just that much more powerful than any other show on television. They feel more earned. They feel more justifiable. They feel more genuine.

So, below, let's take an emotional journey and revisit some of the most emotional moments in this series' history. If I were you, I would grab a handful of tissues because you're going to need them!

Pretty Little Liars 5x15 "Through A Glass, Darkly" [Contributor: Katie Campbell]


"Through A Glass, Darkly"
Original Airdate: January 6, 2015
Katie Campbell is a senior at California State University, Fresno majoring in mass communication and journalism with emphases in public relations and advertising. She enjoys analyzing television and loves television series that celebrate strong female friendships. Katie is the newest member of Just About Write and will be recapping Pretty Little Liars this season. Please welcome her aboard. :)
“People leave. People die. It’s the only sure thing there is in this world,” Mike said to Ezra about Mona. In the season 5B premiere episode, “Through a Glass, Darkly,” that is the only sure thing the Liars know as they’ve discovered time and again nothing in their lives is really how it appears to be.

The episode opens with the gang dressed in black dresses and purple leis at Mona’s funeral with an empty casket, since her body has yet to be discovered.  Then surprise, surprise… Ali shows up at the funeral where she is promptly slapped by Mona’s mother, who also thinks Ali is the killer. Spencer sums it up best sarcastically: “Showing up to your victim’s funeral? Classy.”

Determined to find Mona’s body, Hanna turns to the not-at-all-creepy Mrs. Grunwald (insert sarcastic eye-roll here) and her psychic abilities. Grunwald reveals to Hanna that Mona ‘s spirit is not in peace and that she is having trouble passing through to the afterlife. Grunwald said that Ali and Mona hated one another because each was afraid of the other, since each knew secrets about the other. Grunwald said that she can only see “through a glass, darkly” and that Mona’s body is not in Rosewood but in the dark because her spirit is bound due to the betrayal and loss that she suffered. Grunwald later runs into Ali and tells her that she is in her thoughts and prayers and they exchange significant stares, and I wonder if it’s supposed to be some sort of warning or acknowledgement of whatever Grunwald knows about Ali and Mona. I hope the show reveals more about Grunwald and explores more of her background.

One thing that really stood out to me this episode was how Ali had really lost all respect, sympathy, and power. When Aria ran into Ali and was corned by her, she refused to listen to Ali and instantly blew her attack whistle. As Mona’s alleged killer and the supposed “A,” she officially lost her status as leader and even as the “it” girl. I recently binge-watched the first two seasons of Pretty Little Liars on Netflix and recall how the old Aria, from before Ali’s disappearance, was blackmailed into staying at a Halloween party she didn’t want to go to because Ali threatened to reveal her father’s affair with a student. No longer the trusting, easygoing and naïve girl, Aria won’t let Ali even attempt to threaten her and shuts her down immediately. Jason is also through with protecting Ali. When the police showed him the video of the blonde attacking Mona, Jason discredited Ali’s alibi, admitting she had not been home the entire Thanksgiving Day, resulting in her arrest.

One of the most interesting aspects about this show is the constant reminder of how people and our relationships with people are not black and white in nature. No one is 100 percent evil or 100 percent good. Ali can be mean and heartless toward others, but can also make them feel special.  She has a way of warping the truth to justify her actions and remembers the past in a way that is favorable to her. As Jason tells her: “You always had a knack for that… remembering things differently, you and Dad.”

Going along with the black-and-white theme is the girls’ tumultuous relationship with frenemy Mona, played so beautifully by Janel Parrish.  Mona was once Hanna’s best friend, then became “A,” and lastly turned out to be a trusted ally of the Liars'. In a flashback, Hanna recalled Mona telling her that she was smarter than Spencer and that she hid it because she was afraid. I’m certain that moment was a confidence builder for Hanna since she is often portrayed as dumb and naïve. I hope the show continues doing flashbacks with the girls and Mona, since those scenes give so much insight into their characters.

Mike and Aria’s hear-to-heart about Mona solidified her importance on the show and was tear-jerking. As Mike tells Aria, regarding Mona: “She wasn’t nice. Anyone can be nice. There will never be anyone like her. Ever.” Too often, people, especially women, are described as "nice" when people can’t think of anything complimentary to say about them; despite the fact, there is so much more depth to a person than one adjective. Mike stating that “anyone can be nice” and recognizing that Mona wasn’t shows that he acknowledges she caused problems for his sister, but again Mona wasn't a black-and-white character, so he loved her despite all of her flaws. Aria tells Mike that she would like to hear what Mona was really like sometime to get to know her through his memories. Then when Aria leaves the room she can hear Mike sobbing in the other room as she cries as well. These heartfelt moments really anchor the show, giving it a much-needed change in pace from all of the nonstop drama.

Per usual: “A” makes a dramatic appearance, attacking Aria and stealing Mona’s hard drive. I’m still not sold that Ezra isn’t a member of the A-Team, since Aria decided not to tell him about the attack (hmm… suspicious).

For once, all of the lies and chaos spin in the four girls’ favor. Ali is arrested for murdering Mona and Spencer is greeted by Toby, who I must say looks extra hot in his police uniform, and Tanner with the news that the charge against her of murdering Bethany Young has been dropped, with evidence indicating that Ali could have possibly killed Bethany in addition to Mona.

At the end, the Liars fantasize about leaving Rosewood, imagining lives free of “A.” Of course, “A” will have none of it. The girls question whether Ali is really “A” after a fireworks show that illuminated a bright red “A” and whether Ali could have pulled this off locked up in an orange jumpsuit.

With all of the bombshells that happened this episode, viewers are left with even more questions. Is it still possible that Ali is “A?” Could “A” really be an A-Team this time? What is on Mona’s encrypted laptop and who stole the hard drive? Did Ali really kill Mona? If not, who did? As we all know, this show has proven over the last four years that the simple answer is never the right one.

Memorable Moments/Quotes: 
  • Loving Aria’s red moto jacket! Very “A” -esque.
  • “It was so ghastly,” Spencer said about Ali showing up at Mona’s funeral.
  • “She’s not some card flipper at the carnival,” said Hanna, defending Mrs. Grunwald’s psychic abilities to Caleb.
  • “They’re the ones that are asking you to lie and all I want is the truth,” said Spencer, trying to persuade Jason to stop protecting Ali.
  • Possibly the most quotable exchange on TV ever: “How can you live in such a psychically constipated environment?” Grunwald questioned Hanna. “ I eat a lot of fiber,” she responded.
  • I noticed Mrs. Grunwald is wearing a wedding ring. Does this mean we should expect a visit from Mr. Grunwald soon? Will he also have a supernatural power?
  • Paily’s goodbye was so sad but with the Liars’ relationship history we know it’s never really over.
  • “I’ve been to Atlantic City. You made the right choice,” Hanna said about Emily staying in Rosewood.
Any good conspiracy theories about this season thus far? Share your thoughts on this episode with us in the comments below!

Thursday, January 8, 2015

The Mindy Project 3x12 "Stanford" [Contributor: Ann]


"Stanford"
Original Airdate: January 6, 2015

The Mindy Project is doing something more ambitious this season than it’s ever done before, and that is to finally and fully discuss the idea of the “project” that gives the show its title. I mean, obviously it’s called The Mindy Project because it was once called The Untitled Mindy Kaling Project, but we are given what we’re given and that is what we will analyze and review and enjoy and be disappointed by.

In this episode, the idea of there being a “project,” or a movement towards self-betterment, was clear in Mindy balancing her fellowship and her relationship, Tamra balancing her complicated feelings for Morgan and her performance in the basketsball game, and the show itself, balancing workplace and relationship, balancing the new (Stanford) with the old (NYC). For the first two cases, the question this episode raises is how we should let our relationships affect us as individuals. Should Mindy ask for Danny’s help, or should she forge forward on her own? Does she even have the faith necessary? And should Tamra demolish Morgan spitefully, or should she take the high road so that she can heal?

And for the third case, a similar question of relationship and self is raised: should I let my years-old adoration of The Mindy Project and my (very secure) knowledge of its success in the past affect how I felt about this episode and the upcoming arcs of 2015, or should I try to separate the two? Is it even helpful for me to continue comparing the show to what it once was, or should I try to let each episode stand on its own? In other words: how should my relationship with the show’s past affect what happens from here on out?

Because for the things I liked about this episode and the things I didn’t like, one thing was made certain to me and it is that I am not watching the same show I was watching two years ago. Maybe it’s the focus on the “project” that makes that the case: that this show has gone so many places from its pilot. It’s growing and progressing. Whether you love or hate the changes to the show, the Stanford arc and what follows will change the show in a very major way. I mean, Peter Prentice has, like, one episode left, not to mention the other changes we’ll see coming up.

So that is my takeaway from “Stanford” — this is not the same show I started watching. Here is what is better and worse about this new show:

This is a very, very funny show, with increasingly “?!?!” gaps of logic, broad humor, and infuriating inconsistencies for the sake of making a joke. This is a show with a ton of potential that the first two seasons didn’t tap into—in this episode, the use of the other doctors in the hospital (not just the practice), the incorporation of other doctors from Stanford, and the first/second generation discussion were all threads that were more interesting to me than what Mindy and Danny were going through. In that way, the show has become better and worse: now that the thing that got me watching the show has been usurped by the thing I never really thought this show would be about. And this is a show about characters that have been so much more than I thought they would be, but also a show where the characterization is subject to change from week to week, because it really doesn’t matter in the short term.

Let me explain.

This is a funny show. My favorite thing about this episode was when Tamra was talking about her relationship troubles to Peter and didn’t realize Peter had gone through literally the same thing. I loved Mindy’s attitude towards Neepa. I loved the discussion of Brown Bear and Rosie the Riveter/Taylor Swift (although, as The AV Club commenters informed me, that’s not really Rosie! Go figure!). I loved Jeremy being a doof. I loved Mindy monologuing and Rob asking her who she was talking to. I loved Danny complaining when his gate changes. (I loved a million other little things, too.) Mostly, I love when this show makes jokes about characters clashing with one another and/or demonstrates its knowledge of what a character would say and what a character would do. It feels smarter and is somehow therefore funnier to me when this is the case—the joke feels like it has roots, I guess, rather than being there to fulfill a quota. (Oh—though I did love the shoe puns. I loved Mindy referring to it as “fertile ground.”)

Where do the jokes fail? When the show tries too hard to the point of disbelief, or is too broad to truly land. Too caricature. For me, this can be enough to temporarily take me out of the show's universe. This happened (at least) twice this episode, but both times were so significant to the plot that I was irritated. It wasn’t true to the characters because something else was more important to shoehorn, whether that’s a quick laugh or a plot point or both. The first was the confusion of the BASH and Mindy’s attitude upon entering the lecture hall—like, I’m sorry, but did the flyer not have words on it? Would there really be a panty-less party worth going to in a lecture hall? Would you continue to make a scene after being yelled at, really? It just made Mindy seem so unfairly clueless.

The second was the dinner scene with Barb. Sigh, ugh, ick. Look at it this way: the scene wasn’t totally unfunny—that wasn’t the problem, that it offended me or anything. What really removed me from the scene (and, actually, from really liking this episode at all) was that this scene, this goof, immediately followed Danny’s sweet and sincere statement of belief in Mindy, and completely overwhelmed that sentimental moment, including when the consequences of the foot job led to a fight that made no sense. To me, the shoe scene was a perfect example of this show choosing a (not great) joke over its characters and the plot. There had to have been different ways, better ways, to get Mindy and Danny into a fight—something more closely related to the MAJOR SACRIFICE of these two separating for a very long time, instead of related to Danny’s belief in Mindy. (I mean…. he wrote the letter of recommendation for her, how could he not have faith in her?)

So you see that, for how many examples I had of this show succeeding in being funny, the two examples I had of it failing were more detrimental than the jokes were helpful.

This is a show with a ton of potential. I don’t want you to think I am writing off Mindy/Danny or Stanford based on my tone—like the love triangle between Jeremy and Peter, I like in theory this Stanford arc because I am excited to see Mindy and Danny grapple with some real big questions that are consistent with what we’ve seen so far in them as characters. And I’m excited to see Mindy and to see Danny without each other. I’m excited to see an episode end without Mindy and Danny in their apartment or in their bedroom because I am pretty confident every episode has ended that way this season. I’m excited to see Mindy and Danny grow as individuals, and I’m excited to see Mindy/Danny evolve from its mostly stagnant place this season.

Not only that, but this show has made some really good B-plots lately, and I’ve loved to see the new members of the cast in the show. One of my favorite, small moments in this show has been when Mindy talks about Carolyn being drunk at a conference. I want to see that! I want to explore these people and how they relate to our people! I want these newbies to help our old-bies grow—like how TJ will mean something to Tamra’s development.

But, GOD, Mindy and Danny this episode. This has been coming for a while, but this is the first episode where it wasn’t just that I was disinterested by what I was seeing between the two of them—I actively disliked what the big conflict between them was. I thought it was boring, contrived, and silly. And it ultimately made me mad because the fight Mindy and Danny got into wasn’t fair to them as characters, especially Danny. Mindy’s self-doubt is interesting because I have been dying to see Mindy’s character explored (Danny got the brunt of the development the first two seasons) but I wish so much that this all could have been done differently. I hate that Mindy blamed Danny for the foot job and I hate that somehow that argument became one about Danny’s belief in Mindy and I hate hate hate that Danny said he didn’t have faith in Mindy because Mindy didn’t have faith in her and I hated that he packed up and left and then, for some reason*, came back. I guess that they did this plot because we were meant to examine Mindy’s faith in herself, but they threw Danny under the bus to do so.

What I want to say about the characterization has pretty much already been said, if not in this review than others: that I loved to see Tamra and Mindy stretching out a little bit, (as I’ve loved to see Jeremy and Peter—sometimes—doing) but how annoying it can be that plot points are thrown at us with so little explanation or reason. For Mindy and Danny’s plots, it’s often that within an episode what happens is resolved doesn’t matter in the long run, which means that I don’t care because once the 22 minutes are over, I know Mindy and Danny are going to reunite. For Tamra and Morgan’s plots, it’s that the writers have no idea whatsoever what they want to do with these characters and don’t really care. There is no trajectory for either of these plots and so much disregard for the big picture it’s frustrating.

I want you to know that I love this show and I’m tired of saying the same thing (or at least thinking much of the same thing) week after week. It’s weird, though—for a show that is about progression, for a show that is progressing (in the Stanford and future arcs), I feel in many ways that we’re going backward. For me, I couldn’t fully enjoy this episode because the big backwards outweighed the many forwards. But it is up to you to decide how you feel about this new show, because whether or not you think we’re going backward or forward, we are going somewhere, at least.

Notes:
  • I didn’t talk much about Peter the Sage this episode, because all I have to say is Peter is a Sage. Who will be the new sage when he is gone? (I hope it’s Jeremy!)
  • I am told by my sister that Ana Gastayer was in this episode, who was the mom in Mean Girls. Well, that’s dope!
  • OH. I really hated that Mindy benevolently gave Neepa the right to do the surgery. First off, how do you know she’s qualified? Second off, how could you possibly say to Rob that all you want to do is be treated like everyone else when you are the reason he didn’t treat you like everyone else (more than once—how many other people get to choose whether or not they do the surgery?). Mindy didn’t earn this week, and I’m mad Rob gave her the responsibility so she could give it to Neepa. She might not have earned this week but she got the authority of someone who earned the week…
  • Don’t you think the Lisa Simpson voice actress is so cute? I love her, man.
  • I go back to school tomorrow! This is less a note about the show and more a note about meeeeeee!
  • I know this review is negative and harpy, but my grade for this episode is probably a solid “meh.” Perhaps the most egregious sin and most amazing blessing of this season is that episodes are more likely to be “meh”s than they are to be “!!!!!!!!!!” or “UGH!!!!”s. A sin because it means they’re not as good at getting me invested, but a blessing because watching The Mindy Project last year really got in the way of my finals.
  • * Yes, I understand, the “for some reason” was that he didn’t want their last conversation to be a fight. It’s weird, though, that THIS instance of Danny turning back happened off-screen, but in pretty much every other episode this season his turning back took up space and required Peter or Niecy Nash or Carla to get him to his senses. Do you think they’ve realized we get the point and they just won’t show that plot point anymore?
  • I’m watching Friends right now. Monica and Chandler clearly are better than Ross and Rachel, right? [Jenn's Note: INFINITELY BETTER. Chandler/Monica always > Ross/Rachel]

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

New Girl 4x12 "Shark" (Someone Brought A Shark To A Dolphin Show)


"Shark"
Original Airdate: January 6, 2015

I'm a dolphin, not a shark. I'm that person that you go to when you want encouragement or to get something done in a nice, friendly manner. I'm like Jessica Day in that regard. Give me a form to fill out that doesn't require talking to another human being and I'm golden. Tell me that I need to call to make an appointment or speak with someone and I freeze up and retreat within myself. (#introvertproblems) But Schmidt doesn't like dolphins and he certainly doesn't like being labeled as one. Schmidt's default response is never to converse with someone and compliment them in order to get an answer. His method of operation has always been more shark-like: he's calculating and suave and -- in the best kind of way -- conniving. And he usually plays people like musical instruments that way. He certainly used to play women that way. He claimed to be a Romney. He dazzles them with his smile and his compliments. And when he gets what he wants, he's satisfied. Both Schmidt and Jess have always found different means to an end and I presumed that "Shark" would be a recycled version of "Dice" in that regard: that it would be an episode focusing on how different Jess and Schmidt are and how Schmidt thinks he's right when he's really wrong about people and how Jess needs to be tougher and less friendly and by-the-book. In a way, that's where the episode almost headed but it veered into a different and more welcome territory that I'll discuss later on.

Meanwhile, the entire gang is celebrating Winston's graduation from the police academy, but Coach and Winston begin to worry when they meet Winston's partner -- a tiny woman named Aly (guest star Nasim Pedrad), who doesn't look like she could protect Winston if necessary. Though Winston trusts and really likes her, the other two men are skeptical and extremely concerned for Winston's safety which is both touching and hilarious.

"Shark" wasn't a perfect episode of New Girl, but it definitely was hilarious and is keeping on track with the fourth season's group-centric story about growing up and settling differences. Honestly, I'll reiterate the fact that even though I didn't see anything inherently horrid with the third year of the FOX comedy, the fourth has been a marked improvement upon its previous year, providing both the humor and the heart that makes this comedy worth watching every week. And so, let's talk more about sharks and dolphins, shall we?

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

#PsychRewatch 1x01 "Pilot" (I Know You Know)


"Pilot"
Original Airdate: July 7, 2006

In between the lines, there's a lot of obscurity
I'm not inclined to resign to maturity
If it's all right, then you're all wrong

-- "I Know You Know" (Psych theme song), The Friendly Indians

When I began my initial marathon of Psych, I found myself immediately compelled by the character of Shawn Spencer. He was a smidge smarmy, definitely smug, and had a kind of sarcastic and biting wit that reminded me of my favorite television characters. But what really interested me from the beginning about Shawn was that there was a part of him that just bubbled beneath the surface who wasn't a slacker or a dreamer or immature, but someone who was angry. We see hints of Shawn's bitterness in the pilot episode and never more so than when he interacts with his father, Henry. And I really loved that trait. It made me interested in his story. Because the truth of the matter is that when you're a main character in a new series, you need to not only be interesting, but also layered. There needs to be an air of mystery surrounding you so that you will not just engage an audience for forty-odd minutes but will compel them to return week after week to watch your journey unfold. In the pilot for Psych, it would have been easy to construct a lazy slacker with far-fetched ideas and zero ambitions or a moral compass. But Shawn Spencer... well, he wasn't a just: he wasn't JUST a slacker -- there was more to his story. He wasn't JUST a liar -- it is far too easy to label him as such. He isn't JUST an adult who never grew up -- he's grown up in many undesirable ways.

No, Shawn Spencer intrigued me when I initially started the series and upon re-watching it, he's intrigued me even more. In the pilot episode of the series, he's a man who uses his gift of extreme perception in order to gain what he wants and -- also -- in order to avoid his consequences. But he's more than that. He's someone who genuinely wants to use the talents that he's been gifted with to do something he's actually passionate about. As he tells Henry in the episode, he's actually GOOD at police work because of his memory and it's the first time in the entire episode in which we see Shawn really express his genuine passion for something. Shawn is kind of aimless when we first meet him. He's content to coast with his romantic relationships and his familial ones. He's content to literally coast from job to job, as Gus -- his best friend -- notes. Shawn isn't the kind of guy who likes to commit to just one thing, be it person or career, because I think there's a part of Shawn that is just so scared of being STUCK. And so, he keeps moving.

And as long as Shawn keeps moving, he doesn't have to think about his life too much. He doesn't have to worry about working on mending relationships, like the one between him and his father. But in the pilot, once Shawn becomes a consultant, of sorts, for interim chief of police Karen Vick on a case, we see something interesting: we see Shawn's conscious decision NOT to coast. He doesn't take his check and ride away with it like I presume he's done many times before in many situations before. He can't stop thinking about the case. And it's more than just the fact that Shawn is good at what he does -- he's actually found a way to combine his talents and his dreams in a realistic way.

There's only one snafu in Shawn's plan: he's technically lying to everyone.

You see, Psych -- much like its USA drama counterpart Suits -- is about a guy who has a secret and spends the duration of the series desperately trying to keep that secret from others. In Shawn's case, the lie that he tells everyone at the Santa Barbara Police Department is that he's a psychic. And he tells this lie in order to avoid getting thrown into jail (because he's tipped off the police about suspects in the past and they're convinced he's the one behind the crimes). So when Shawn excitedly tells his father that he's good at police work, Henry's first response is to remind Shawn that he's lying to everyone and eventually, he'll get caught. And he'll be in a world of trouble, then. Gus reminds Shawn of this frequently, too, but Shawn brushes them both off.

Shawn is excited, you see, because he's finally found something that he's good at. Part of the reason why Shawn coasts in his life, I think, is because he gets bored. And the second he gets bored, he moves onto something that will provide him with momentary fulfillment... until THAT bores him and he moves on again. As long as he keeps moving and bouncing from person to person or job to job, there's no time for boredom. No time to contemplate his life. No time to remember that he's a grown man and is still not settled down. The idea of settling down anywhere -- of not having the freedom to just cut and run when things are difficult -- scares Shawn. And I think a lot of the behavior we see in the pilot and beyond is due to his strained relationship with his father.

Oh, man, I could write a novel about how much the Henry/Shawn relationship evolves throughout the series, but I'll refrain and instead note that re-watching the pilot and seeing how fractured the relationship between Shawn and his father was, was so painful but so good. Shawn blamed his father for a lot of things and that bitterness and anger within him is why I was so drawn to Shawn Spencer in the first place. He's not just the guy who cuts and runs. He's not just a man-child. He's a person who took care of his mother when his parents divorced. He's a person who had a strained relationship with his father growing up and blames him -- Henry -- for the person he became. Shawn blames Henry for making him bitter, for making him into what he became. And yet, Shawn refuses to deal with that pain. He doesn't even know his father moved back to town and was living in their childhood home.

Because it's much easier for Shawn to keep his father at a distance and blame him for the way he turned out than it is to own up to his OWN mistakes and behavior. But make no mistake about it: Shawn DOES confront his dad. He's the one who shows up at his father's house. He's the one who asks for help on the case. Even though their relationship is broken and tinged with a whole lot of anger and a whole lot of tension, Shawn still manages to take a bold step and confront his father instead of turning and running away. It's this really interesting duality, right? This idea that Shawn doesn't want his father in his life because he blames him for so many things and yet Shawn is also so prideful that he cannot approach Henry for assistance.

Henry, too, is such an interesting character in the pilot. You can tell that he is angry. He's angry and disappointed in the person Shawn became (a person Shawn blames his father for becoming, honestly). And that disappointment isn't just limited to adulthood -- Shawn believes his father has ALWAYS been disappointed in him and carries the pain of that into his adult life. Henry astutely notes that Shawn is flighty: that he doesn't like settling onto a project and has passion for it for a moment before deciding to call it quits. But Shawn is insistent in the pilot that he's found a way to use his gift not just to help people but in a way that he can have FUN while doing so.

"Fun" is what Shawn has always been good at. But "sensible" is what his best friend Gus has always been good at. We meet Burton "Gus" Guster, Shawn's best friend, in the pilot, too. He's logical and holds a steady job. I love Gus because he's the kind of character who is automatically assigned the role of "the straight man" but eventually becomes so much more than that (much like Ben Wyatt does in Parks and Recreation). Gus isn't without his flaws, really, and one of his preliminary ones is that he never takes risks. He has structure and order and plans and he remains unhappy because he's logical and rational. To him, having a five-year plan is better than what Shawn does and in many ways, Gus is right: having a steady source of income and being dependable and reliable IS something to be commended. Where Shawn is flighty, Gus is grounded. Where Shawn takes risks, Gus analyzes them. Shawn needs someone like Gus because without him, bills wouldn't get paid and there would never be any groceries. But Gus needs Shawn, too. And I think that's one of the things that we get to see most throughout the course of the series -- Shawn may need Gus's reliable and dependable nature, his gentle and rational persona, and his car... but Gus needs Shawn, too. He needs Shawn to force him to have adventures and be braver. Gus has potential and Shawn has always been able to see that potential. He sees MORE in Gus than just a pharmaceutical sales rep. He sees someone who has dreams, and Gus has always been too afraid to fail to even reach for those dreams slightly.

So Gus decides to embark on an adventure with Shawn -- one adventure -- in the pilot episode: the duo get called upon to solve a kidnapping and between the two of them, they're able to do so and earn credibility with the Santa Barbara Police Department. Shawn then decides that they are going to set up shop as consulting psychic detectives and though Gus is convinced (throughout the entire series, really) that everything Shawn does is a horrible idea, he still takes part in that adventure with him.

The Psych pilot is so delightful not because it is perfect (it's definitely not as funny as the episodes that follow), and certainly not because its characters are perfect. The pilot is delightful because the characters are flawed, zany, and wonderful. Everyone is dealing with growing up on the series and though Psych is a lighthearted adventure, it also occasionally pokes at the bigger question: is Shawn a bad person for lying to the people he works with if he's saving lives and solving crimes in the process? Because Shawn Spencer is right in the pilot -- he is very good at what he does and he manages to help people while also having the freedom (by opening his own agency) to be his own boss and to call the shots and to -- essentially -- play "grown-up" with his best friend. Make no mistake about it, though: Shawn quickly learns that his actions at Psych and the Santa Barbara Police Department have consequences, not just for himself but for the people he's brought into his lie (including Henry).

And even though Shawn enjoys playing detective in the pilot, it's sweet and ironic that eventually throughout the series, Shawn just stops PLAYING detective and becomes as good and as valuable as one. He tones down his "psychic visions." He embraces the idea that he's not always right. He learns to trust and rely on other people. He starts to mend his relationship with his father. He becomes more grounded and rational (while still managing to be that pop culture-loving, snappy Shawn we met in the pilot). Shawn Spencer grows, even in the pilot episode, and it's endearing to see a character like that -- a character who is genuinely intelligent, passionate, and deeply flawed as the main character of Psych.

Shawn initially drew me into Psych, but it was the wit, humor, heart and genuine stakes of the series (a series ALWAYS needs to have stakes to work) that kept me coming back for more.

(... Plus, the meta humor and pop culture references didn't hurt either.)

And then some pineapples:
  • I know it's because it's 2006, but James Roday looks like such a baby in the pilot! I'm constantly reminded of how young he was and how pilot episodes are always so much different than the rest of the series.
  • "How many hats are in the room?" Still one of my favorite moments in the series and especially when it gets called back to at the very end of the show, too.
  • "Don't you try to trivialize police work." "You're doing a bang-up job of that yourselves."
  • "What I need is a miracle. Or a facsimile of one."
  • I nearly forgot that McNab has been with the series since the pilot!
  • "I need you to write stuff down. Because you know how I zone out when other people talk."
  • "My very first case and I'm already being threatened. Wow."
  • "What's your dental plan?" "Don't get cavities." "Health plan?" "Same, but with hepatitis and shingles."
  • First appearance of the pineapple during the scene at Gus's place, YAY. I'm going to see if I can spot where it is every episode during my re-watch.
Well, folks, there you have it! So I've decided that since I was so enamored by this show during my first marathon of it, I would re-watch it and write about it. Here's how the reviews will work: I won't review EVERY episode individually, unless it's a really important episode (like season finales or premieres or special episodes) because there are some episodes that I don't have a lot to write about. I'll probably try to compact it so there are at least 3-4 episodes in one post/review so that way we can progress throughout the series. Even though there are only approximately 15 episodes per season (plus the musical), they're each 42 minutes long so there's a decent amount of content to talk about.

Hopefully you guys stick around and marathon through with me! I'll marathon as I am able to and time allows (with all of the currently airing primetime shows that will need to be reviewed on here that may be a bit tricky but I will try to make it work), and I would love for you all -- especially those who've never watched the series -- to join me. The eighth and final season of Psych will be released on Netflix this coming week which means you guys have no excuse! Watch it.

So, until then, folks. :)

Monday, January 5, 2015

Galavant 1x01 "Pilot" & 1x02 "Joust Friends" (Endearing Absurdity With a Dash of Meta)


"Pilot" & "Joust Friends"
Original Airdate: January 4, 2015

If Monty Python's Spamalot and Mel Brooks' Robin Hood: Men in Tights had an illegitimate child, it would be named Galavant.

The new ABC show's imagined parentage is a good thing, really. At least... for people like me, it is. People like me who love witty, absurd comedy. People like me who love silly humor and musicals. I love Spamalot's "Song That Goes Like This." I love that movies like Robin Hood: Men in Tights and The Princess Bride and Monty Python and the Holy Grail contain a lot of meta humor. And the reason why I love meta humor (why shows like Psych and Community are among my favorites) is because meta humor makes an audience feel like they're a part of the joke and, consequently, like they're a real part of the series or movie as well. Admittedly, when Galavant first began to run sneak peeks and promos, I scoffed because no show on television has really been brave enough to tackle the kind of humor I mentioned above and certainly no show has been brave enough to set it to music, as well. But as I saw more and more commercials (and finished my marathon of Psych, desperate for more Timothy Omundson in my life), I began to warm toward the idea of the series and instead of finding the prospect of a meta-humor musical parody on ABC irritating, I found it welcome. Refreshing, even, for the network.

Network television is no stranger to musical series or specials. NBC had massive success with The Sound of Music: Live! (no one told the network that most people hate-watched it, did they?) and followed up the special event with Peter Pan: Live! late in 2014. Glee found huge success on FOX until recent years when the Nielsen numbers began to sharply decline. Television isn't afraid to make itself musical. It's afraid to make itself musical and bold.

The reason why nearly everything from Monty Python has become iconic is because those movies and musicals and sketches weren't afraid to be brave and to be absurd and to be downright stupid, at times. They're iconic because they tap into the parts of human beings that adore acting like idiots and think that other people acting occasionally like idiots is funny. When comedy takes itself too seriously, it places itself into a box. Boxes are constricting and they're good for a while. But they're safe. When you look at Spamalot and Robin Hood: Men in Tights and Monty Python and now Galavant, you laugh. You cannot help but laugh. And sure, you probably roll your eyes slightly and maybe you snicker instead of belly-laugh, but this kind of comedy is occasionally what we need, as humans. We need to laugh at how absurd musicals are while still being IN one. We need to see a lovely maiden act like a complete and total bee-yotch to her pushover king husband. We need to have running gags and meta commentary because we NEED to be absurd every now and then. And Galavant reminds us that it's not just okay to be absurd -- it's actually FUNNY.

All of the television series and musicals and movies I noted above are absurd. I mean, Monty Python and the Holy Grail has an entire sequence about a killer bunny rabbit, guys. But there's a very important reason as to why absurd comedy works and why it becomes iconic: it needs to also genuinely be smart, at its core. That may appear to contradict what I said above, about comedy never taking itself too seriously, but make no mistake about it: absurd, genuinely intelligent comedies that tap into what makes it funny to be a human being or what makes it funny to watch a musical get remembered. They become iconic. Absurd, stupid comedies -- ones that don't understand WHY characters or situations are funny and instead try to insist they are... just because -- get forgotten and deserve to be.

At its heart, The Princess Bride was a comedy of absurdity and yet it was not stupid. It was extremely smart. It had witty rapport between its characters. It had a genuine story. It connected with viewers because though it was fantastical, we understood why situations were funny. The movie wasn't realistic in a lot of aspects, but the humor tapped into something very much human within each of us. And that's why it remains a classic: it's a comedy that notes the absurdity in the world (in this case, in fairytales) and makes fun of it while also shedding light onto why we laugh. Furthermore, The Princess Bride is layered. It doesn't box itself into being a "just": it's not JUST a comedy. It's a love story. It has substance.

And that brings us back to Galavant, which I adored. I found the first two episodes to be exceptionally funny and also endearing. Its music was absolutely fantastic and though the pilot was a bit clunky in points, the second episode -- "Joust Friends" -- was a significant improvement. Galavant is the story of a hero named, well, Galavant. He and a lovely (but rather hot-tempered and spiteful as we will see later on) maiden Madalena that was kidnapped by King George. And when Galavant valiantly rescued his true love... she made the very conscious and very humiliating decision to stay with the king and accept her life of riches and royalty (and ease) over a life with Galavant.

This, understandably, broke our hero and he returned to his home utterly destitute and remained there, essentially in filth and drunkenness. What makes Galavant, already, such an enjoyable series is that it doesn't dwell too long on the sentimentality (when Isabella tries to encourage Galavant to help her, the latter explains his backstory -- about how he grew up with parents who said they loved each other and fought incessantly, so he swore off the idea of love or falling in love), but also acknowledges that sentiment is part of a hero's journey. The inherent problem that I have with comedies is that occasionally they sacrifice story for the sake of a joke. And what happens when writers do that -- when they dwell too long on a pun or riff -- is exactly that. Shows become punchlines and moments become brushed-off jokes. But what I love about the first two episodes of Galavant is that there were a few actual emotional moments amid the hilarity.

Additionally, the series is intriguing for me because there are compelling and diverse characters that are re-working tropes (Isabella as a duplicitous princess who can also fight; Galavant as a semi-reluctant and not entirely physically capable hero; King Richard as a giant sensitive man-child king; Madalena as an unassumingly beautiful maiden with a sharp tongue; Gareth as the gruff but hilariously astute "henchmen;" and Sid as the sarcastic, realistic sidekick) and also because I'm genuinely interested in this hero's journey.

(Plus, the music in this series is stellar and catchy already, but of COURSE the songs are because they're composed by the incomparable Alan Menken.)

If you're wondering why we keep returning to this kind of comedy -- why people still find meta humor enjoyable, why they like it when people randomly burst into song, and why slapstick and silly humor can still make us giggle -- I think it's really and truly because there is a part of us that loves being entertained. We love seeing stories we know (the hero's journey, rescuing the princess, a castle-wide dance number!) over and over again in new ways. We love watching pieces that shouldn't fit together -- like singing and dancing kings or duets sung on horseback -- really work for us. We like being silly, but more importantly, we like having FUN.

And if you're looking for something to liven your Sunday nights for the next few weeks and take your mind off the Monday blues that will inevitably occur when you return to work the following day, then look no further than Galavant.

Additional fun bits and pieces:
  • Did I mention how much I enjoyed seeing Timothy Omundson back on my screen? I did. I totally and completely did.
  • Fun fact: Scott Weinger is credited as a supervising producer on the series. You probably know him as the voice of Aladdin. I know him as Steve from Full House.
  • "Of course, we're doing to open some presents, but then we're going to do it!" "Got it."
  • I loved that the series revamped all of the ABC in-house promos and set them to the tune of the opening theme. I know some people were annoyed by it, but come on. I would totally make an effort to watch Resurrection if it had singing and dancing in it, wouldn't you?
  • "I swear, it's the plague." "It's not the plague."
  • "TOTALLY empathize. TOTALLY understand. ... Can I have it?"
  • "If he finds out I'm working for the king --" "........ Wait, what?"
  • "Holy *bleep,* I'm out of shape. Oww, my tummy. That was a long song!" I died laughing at this. True story.
  • "Can we swap horses? Yours looks softer."
  • John Stamos was the first of numerous guest stars and his appearance made me so happy. ALSO his name was Jean Hamm. JEAN HAMM.
  • "Oh, poop. I got gravy on my tummy flowers." Omundson for all of the awards, please and thank you.
  • "It's 1256. The 'yo mama' jokes are getting really old." "... YO MAMA IS REALLY OLD." "Seriously, Jean..."
  • "He's the lord of the..." "Sword?" "... Sorry, no. I can't."
  • "How did you get on the horse?" "I slept on the horse."
  • The slowest joust in history earned the biggest laughs all evening from me. It was perfect.
  • It'll be hard to top "Maybe You're Not the Worst Thing Ever" as the best song in Galavant. It really will because that was perfect.
Well my friends, there's a very good chance that I'll be back next week to talk about the next two episodes of Galavant. Did you tune in last night? What were some of your favorite moments? And if you didn't tune in... do you think you will? Hit up the comments below and continue the conversation about --

GAAAAAAAAAALAAAAAAAVAAAAAAAAANT.

Until then, folks. :)

Saturday, January 3, 2015

Jenn's Pick: My Top 15 Daniel/Betty Moments


When I began marathoning Ugly Betty, I was certain of two things: 1) I loved Betty Suarez as a stong, independent female character and 2) I was falling head-over-heels in love with the relationship between Daniel and Betty. When people "ship" couples on television series, they usually do so because they enjoy the chemistry or sexual tension between the individuals and between the actors. And that's not a wrong reason to root for a relationship between two characters, really. But as I watched the friendship and partnership grow between Daniel and Betty over the course of four seasons, I realized that the reason I shipped them was fundamentally rooted in the fact that these characters were each others' best friends. My love of them is founded on the fact that Daniel will move heaven and earth to protect Betty and that Betty will always be there to support Daniel, even when he doesn't know he needs supporting. I think that's completely and utterly beautiful, really.

Daniel and Betty always had obstacles in their friendship, but somehow -- slowly -- those dissolved until eventually all that was left was each other. And while I would have liked to see another season full of Betty's London adventures with Daniel, I think that the show ended their relationship in a very hopeful place and a very organic place for it to continue to grow in an entirely new way. The majority of the series consisted of Betty working FOR Daniel, which was not problematic, really, because they became so close that their relationship wasn't just that of a boss and an employee. No, the relationship between Daniel and Betty was so lovely and heartfelt and honest, that it is difficult to walk away from Ugly Betty and not root for them as a romantic pairing. If the best relationships supposedly start from friendships, then by "Hello Goodbye," Daniel and Betty are on track for an amazing life together.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Below, let's discuss fifteen of my favorite Daniel/Betty moments, shall we? Add your own to the comments section below and continue the conversation. :)