After my last Peacock round-up, I returned to the channel when enough new content
warranted one month’s (overpriced) subscription. The second season of Poker Face (MC-83) was the main draw,
since I am a Natasha Lyonne “stan” (if that’s the word young whippersnappers
use). And it lived up to the first so
well that I simply refer you to my earlier comments. Stoner redhead Lyonne keeps
solving crimes and dispensing justice using her bullshit-detector superpower,
the cases secondary to the gravel-voiced humor and the witty appearances of guest
stars. The show was created by Rian Johnson,
best known for the Knives Out films in the same comic-mystery vein. Surefire light entertainment, clever and funny. They do make them like they used to
(e.g. Columbo in this case), but better.
My question about The
Paper (MC-66) was
whether, among creator Greg Daniels’ previous work, it would be more like The
Office (which I never bothered to watch after enjoying the British version)
or Parks & Rec (which I came to late but then watched religiously). So I approached this series warily, but was
won over by the time it was revealed that the main character hailed from Cleveland
Heights, even though played by Irish actor Domnhall Gleason. He was a supersalesman for Dunder Mifflin, which
has been acquired along with the Toledo Truth Teller (toilet paper,
newspaper – all the same business) by the conglomerate Enervate, which has made
him editor-in-chief. His second-in-command
(and possible love interest) is played winningly by Chelsea Frei, and some of
the other characters have their moments in these ten episodes, but not enough
to make me eager for more seasons.
Steven Soderbergh is an
accomplished director but not one of my favorites, nor is the James Bond-ish
genre he’s working with in Black Bag (MC-85), but Cate Blanchett and Michael Fassbender are sure
to be worth a look. They play a married
pair of spies conspiring to discover a mole in their division of British
intelligence. The “black bag” is where
they put the intel they can’t share with each other, to maintain the trust of
their personal relationship. Fassbender
is detailed to find the mole, but one of the five suspects is Blanchett. Things get sticky and many psychological
games are played, especially around the dinner table with the six main characters. It’s all very sleek and swift and in good
company – but instantly forgettable.
Ballad of Wallis Island
(MC-78) is
inoffensive but not really stimulating, with best performer Carey Mulligan
given a truncated role. This feature is
an expansion of an earlier short created by the two leads, Tim Key and Tom
Basden. Key is a lottery winner living
on a nearly deserted island (exquisitely shot in Wales), who has lured
folksinger Basden there with a promise of a gig for a half-million pounds. Key and his deceased wife were superfans of Basden’s
former duo with Mulligan, and he wants to reunite them as a way to relive his
marriage through a concert for himself alone.
The pair have their own feelings about the reunion, but they do
harmonize nicely despite their differences past and present, while Key yammers
nervously on. Not a rom-com but a gentle
portrait of fellowship, this film aims to please and mostly does.
I missed Housekeeping
for Beginners (MC-80) when
it was streaming on Hulu but found it afterwards over on Peacock (typical of
how films are always moving between platforms).
How many Australian-Macedonian films have you seen? This was my first, but maybe not my
last. Writer-director Goran Stolevski
was born in North Macedonia but moved Down Under when he was 12. Set among the lingering ethnic conflicts of
the Balkans, this film follows a welfare worker who has turned her home into a lesbian
and gay refuge, with a female Roma lover and her two daughters, a trio of young
gender-fluid women, and a gay man who brings a Gypsy youth into the mix (he’s good
at taking care of the firecracker preteen daughter). As you can imagine, there are conflicts
aplenty, but an unlikely but lively queer family emerges. Stolevski throws us into the middle of this
menage and lets us make sense of the chaotic household and its misfit
inhabitants.
In similar channel-switching,
Time (MC-81) was a Britbox series that I happened to catch in its
brief run on HBO Max. Two seasons of
three episodes each look at prison life from a newbie’s perspective, and the
effect is disturbingly you-are-there, adding dimension to the notion of “doing
time.” In the first series, Sean Bean is
a teacher ushered into prison after he kills someone while driving drunk. Stephen Graham is a prison guard compromised
because his own son is in prison and threatened by a gang. In the second, Jodie Whitaker is thrown in
jail for “fiddling the lecky” (watch and find out), where she bunks with pregnant
drug addict Bella Ramsey and infanticide Tamara Lawrance, each a well-drawn
character. Both series are persuasive
and wrenching.
Most of the time I don’t pay
any attention to Masterpiece Mystery on PBS, but a friend’s recommendation (confirmed
by an 8.2 IMBD rating)
led me to the French police series Astrid (et Raphaélle). I started out dubious but was soon hooked and
made my way through all four seasons on PBS (it seems a fifth has been
broadcast in France). I came for the
portrayal of autism, stayed for the appealing characters and relationships, and
tolerated the murder mysteries because the violence was minimal and the
settings and motives always held interest, with subjects explored and not
simply exploited. The growing friendship
between the two women is beautifully developed from season to season, with Sara
Mortensen brilliant in her depiction of the autistic criminal records archivist
Astrid, and Lola Delawaere brash and engaging as lead detective Raphaélle. Each murder solved (emphasizing clever puzzle over
grisly forensics) only brings them closer as they complete each other as “thimble”
and “compass,” part of a congenial work family.
And each brings me closer to including this series among my all-time
favorites. (On the other hand, I watched
one episode of the show’s pallid UK remake Patience, and was relieved of
any impulse to watch more.)
In the migration of films
between channels, I caught up with The Truman Show (MC-90) somewhere
or other, and it seemed as fresh and relevant as it was three decades ago. What if your life were a sitcom,
stage-managed by some overarching creator for the amusement of the multitudes? Jim Carrey gives a career-best performance as
Truman, Laura Linney as his wife gives a performance that foreshadows her
sterling career, Ed Harris is maniacal perfection as the director of the show,
and Peter Yates is also career-best as the director of the film. Like Groundhog Day, this is a comedy
with metaphysical implications.
Among the surprises on
Kanopy, I found a British film that hadn’t even reached its official American
release date. Brian and Maggie (MC-73) was originally
presented as a two-part series, but actually makes a tidy 90-minute movie,
written by James Graham of Sherwood, directed by accomplished veteran
Stephen Frears, and starring Harriet Walter as Margaret Thatcher and Steve
Coogan as the journalist who befriended her and eventually brought her down. I found it so engaging that I immediately
went back and re-watched The Iron Lady (MC-52) to compare Meryl
Streep’s Oscar-winning performance to Walter’s, interestingly different but
both excellent (as was Gillian Anderson in The Crown). Thatcher’s
political influence was (and remains) malign but both films humanize her
malfeasance, and make it relevant to our own political moment.
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