Joel Stein is a massive tool.
Okay, let's back it up.
I'm a firm believer in fully immersing yourself in whatever makes you happy (unless what makes you happy is a mountain of cocaine or something, in which case I urge you to rent Scarface and really pay attention to it - particularly the end, as I feel a lot of people kind of miss the point). Like plenty of others, I was a nerd before being a nerd was a thing, and hiding it never really occurred to me. I grew up unabashedly rocking a Millennium Falcon t-shirt, running to the library for Star Trek novels, and rushing to watch X-Men and Spider-Man every Saturday morning without a second thought - not because I was making some kind of a statement, but because these were the things that I enjoyed. When other people couldn't relate to what I was talking about, it didn't make me feel different. Really, it only made me more determined to explain it correctly. When I got made fun of (and even beat up a little), I figured it was not so much due to my love of sci-fi as it was that other people were jerks and I was a shy kid who didn't like confrontation. While that didn't really make the insults sting any less, it also never dampened my enthusiasm. The things I watched and read carried me beyond the schoolyard, helped me connect with some of my very best friends, and even nudged me down my current career path.
So, you see, it bugs me when people arbitrarily dismiss entire art forms. And now we've arrived back at Mr. Stein (bet you thought I forgot).
Let me start by editing my initial statement. I don't know Joel Stein. As far as I know, we've never even occupied the same airspace, unless you count living on the same planet and possibly being in the same state on occasion. Since I have a standing policy to at least try not to rush to judgment, I can't in fairness say that he is a massive tool. He just comes across as one.
On March 29, the New York Times published this opinion piece: Adults Should Read Adult Books. Take a minute to follow the link and read it, 'cause it's really going to help you understand the rest of this.
The post was calculated, given that this was less than a week after the film adaptation of Suzanne Collins' The Hunger Games lit up the box office, where it continues to reign uncontested. Just to put things in perspective, last week's second place finisher was Wrath of the Titans, which made over $20 million dollars less than The Hunger Games, despite the boost from pricier 3D tickets and the fact that the latter film was in its second weekend.
I'm ecstatic about the success of The Hunger Games, which I consider to be one of the best - if not the best - film adaptations of a book I've ever seen. I'm even happier that more people are going out and picking up the books as a result.
Now, I have a slight bias in that I'm a big believer in Young Adult literature. I read it, I write it, and I'd teach classes on it if somebody was ever crazy enough to offer me money to do so. I think the YA genre is experiencing a true golden age at this very moment, with smart and skilled authors telling powerful and nuanced stories that are relevant to anybody who is or ever has been not just a teenager but a living, breathing member of society. Is every YA book a gem? No. But last I checked, all adult authors weren't exactly card-carrying MENSA members either (and even if they were, that doesn't mean they'd be able to write worth a damn).
Unlike Joel Stein, who places great stock in labels, I'm a fan of content. Period. I don't care how a book is classified - if I can understand it and it's compelling, I'm in. Same goes for movies, television shows, art exhibits, and whatever else. I like something because when I'm in the process of consuming it, my brain sends a signal that is the polar opposite of the one it would send if, say, a grizzly bear was chewing on my arm. That's how it should be, right?
The sad thing is, this idea of genre or classification automatically making content less worthy is nothing new. Stein published a piece for the L.A. Times back in 2005 essentially calling all adult Harry Potter fans, "morons." Seriously. Go read the lovingly titled, Hogwarts fans, you're stupid, stupid, stupid if you don't believe me.
The best part? Stein hasn't touched a single one of the books he's indicting, yet feels perfectly secure demeaning the intelligence of those who have entirely on the basis of a label.
This, dear readers, is what really bothers me the most - the name calling. The bullying. The verbal ostracism of an entire group of people without any concrete justification. If he'd read the book and said, "Hey, I think this is dumb because of X, Y, Z," I'd be able to respect his opinion more, even though I'd still disagree with it. However, this propagation of, "Shame on You," culture is nothing more than narrow-minded snobbery. Worse, it can steer people, young and old, who are searching for inspiration and identity toward self-loathing, and that's just not fair.
Books - be they classified as young adult or otherwise - change lives, even save them. I've seen it. I've experienced it. Yes, just as 7 year-old me would have unhesitatingly declared that nothing in the world was cooler than Star Trek, I have absolutely no problem stating (at the age of 25, if we need a reminder) that no book series will ever mean quite as much to me as Harry Potter and The Hunger Games. Both came into my life at very different times and mean very different things to me, but I have never been so profoundly affected by something I've read - not before, not since. And believe me, after studying literature and writing on more than one continent, I've read a lot. Does that make me stupid?
According to Joel Stein, yes.
Fortunately, I don't give a damn.
And that's really the point of me saying all of this. In the grand scheme of things, Joel Stein is a kid in the schoolyard, hiding behind the word, "columnist," and throwing stones. There's no point in calling him out on it, no matter how annoying it is (and even though I kind of already did). Really, the best way to deal with the Joel Steins of the world is to just live your life, do what you want to do, and refuse to take any crap for it. Read your books, wear your t-shirts, get engaged at Disneyland. Hell, go see your sparkly vampire movies. Just because it's not for me doesn't mean you can't like it.
Believe me, the only person who will feel embarrassed for you is Joel Stein, and you'll be way too busy with your happiness to notice.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
On Kony 2012 (Or, Awareness as Power)
I flipped back and forth on whether I was going to say anything or not. Here I am, so we can all probably guess what I decided.
I became involved with Invisible Children when I was in college after a screening of the documentary. It was the first time the issue of the LRA was clearly and effectively brought to my attention, and once you have that kind of information, you can't ignore it.
In the last 24 hours, a half-hour video narrated by Invisible Children co-founder Jason Russell has quickly gone viral. An extremely condensed version of the violence in Uganda and beyond, the video calls on the global community to make LRA leader and indicted war criminal Joseph Kony "famous," an action meant to condemn rather than celebrate.
In the wake of the video, there's been a prominent backlash. Arguments against the, "Kony 2012," video range from the intelligent to the cynical, and I won't be addressing all of them here. What I will say is that it's incredibly important to thoroughly educate yourself about any issue or organization you support, because propaganda - be it positive or negative - is designed to draw you in. However, I think it's important to remember that research does not end at statistics. Talk to as many people as you can, get an idea of how and why things operate, then make your decision. No matter what the issue, there will always be people who both agree and disagree with you. Ultimately, you need to rely on the strength of your own knowledge.
The, "Kony 2012," campaign was created by Invisible Children, but it is not directly about the organization and while it promotes donation, it does not demand it or even highlight it. "Kony 2012," is about awareness. It's about taking a regional evil and placing it on a global stage. Many have argued that Joseph Kony and the LRA are already well known enough. Respectfully, I disagree. The overwhelming number of people who have reposted the video with the comment, "I can't believe I did not know about this," contradicts that.
A half-hour video can't give you all the specific details of a complex issue. A three hour video still wouldn't be able to hold all that information. Again, I encourage you to educate yourself. Many of the details that critics say are not highlighted in the Kony 2012 spot are easily accessible, both on the Invisible Children web site and elsewhere.
Will bringing in Joseph Kony, dead or alive, immediately solve the problem of the LRA? No. There is no quick fix - capturing terrorists doesn't stop terrorism, AIDS walks don't cure AIDS, feeding the homeless doesn't eliminate poverty - but nobody can argue that these things are not good, that they're not important steps toward an ultimate goal.
Is December 31, 2012 an arbitrary date? Yes. It has wisely been pointed out that issues like this are often marathons, not sprints. It will be just as important to focus on Kony, the LRA, and other organizations that are purely and undeniably evil on January 1, 2013 or 2023 or however long it takes to disarm and dismantle them. In truth, many will not be paying attention. By next week, more than half the people who are reposting the Kony link will be focused on something else. But for every five people who stop talking about it, there will probably be at least one who is now in it for the long haul, who saw the video, got educated, and got involved. That is a victory.
I made a choice years ago to believe in Invisible Children. I made a choice to believe that evil could be stopped, even if it takes decades. I stand by that now, and I support saying, "This is a thing that is wrong. Let's do what we can to stop it." Dismiss me as naive or overly idealistic or flat out wrong if you'd like, but find an action you can believe in after you do.
I became involved with Invisible Children when I was in college after a screening of the documentary. It was the first time the issue of the LRA was clearly and effectively brought to my attention, and once you have that kind of information, you can't ignore it.
In the last 24 hours, a half-hour video narrated by Invisible Children co-founder Jason Russell has quickly gone viral. An extremely condensed version of the violence in Uganda and beyond, the video calls on the global community to make LRA leader and indicted war criminal Joseph Kony "famous," an action meant to condemn rather than celebrate.
In the wake of the video, there's been a prominent backlash. Arguments against the, "Kony 2012," video range from the intelligent to the cynical, and I won't be addressing all of them here. What I will say is that it's incredibly important to thoroughly educate yourself about any issue or organization you support, because propaganda - be it positive or negative - is designed to draw you in. However, I think it's important to remember that research does not end at statistics. Talk to as many people as you can, get an idea of how and why things operate, then make your decision. No matter what the issue, there will always be people who both agree and disagree with you. Ultimately, you need to rely on the strength of your own knowledge.
The, "Kony 2012," campaign was created by Invisible Children, but it is not directly about the organization and while it promotes donation, it does not demand it or even highlight it. "Kony 2012," is about awareness. It's about taking a regional evil and placing it on a global stage. Many have argued that Joseph Kony and the LRA are already well known enough. Respectfully, I disagree. The overwhelming number of people who have reposted the video with the comment, "I can't believe I did not know about this," contradicts that.
A half-hour video can't give you all the specific details of a complex issue. A three hour video still wouldn't be able to hold all that information. Again, I encourage you to educate yourself. Many of the details that critics say are not highlighted in the Kony 2012 spot are easily accessible, both on the Invisible Children web site and elsewhere.
Will bringing in Joseph Kony, dead or alive, immediately solve the problem of the LRA? No. There is no quick fix - capturing terrorists doesn't stop terrorism, AIDS walks don't cure AIDS, feeding the homeless doesn't eliminate poverty - but nobody can argue that these things are not good, that they're not important steps toward an ultimate goal.
Is December 31, 2012 an arbitrary date? Yes. It has wisely been pointed out that issues like this are often marathons, not sprints. It will be just as important to focus on Kony, the LRA, and other organizations that are purely and undeniably evil on January 1, 2013 or 2023 or however long it takes to disarm and dismantle them. In truth, many will not be paying attention. By next week, more than half the people who are reposting the Kony link will be focused on something else. But for every five people who stop talking about it, there will probably be at least one who is now in it for the long haul, who saw the video, got educated, and got involved. That is a victory.
I made a choice years ago to believe in Invisible Children. I made a choice to believe that evil could be stopped, even if it takes decades. I stand by that now, and I support saying, "This is a thing that is wrong. Let's do what we can to stop it." Dismiss me as naive or overly idealistic or flat out wrong if you'd like, but find an action you can believe in after you do.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Still Watching the Watchmen? (Or, My Best Gatsby Metaphor Ever)
Big news hit recently, if you're a comic book nerd. Even if you're not, it may have worked its way onto your radar. DC Comics unveiled its plan to release a series of comics featuring the characters of Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' award winning classic, Watchmen. All indications are that the line will function as a prequel to the bestselling story. It's a buzzworthy announcement. It's also, in my opinion, a mistake.
When I originally started drafting this post the morning of the announcement, I got really technical about all the details of Alan Moore's contract with DC and how the terms of said contract led to their pretty public and messy falling out. Then I realized that this was a big waste of my time and yours, precisely because it was pretty public (and did I mention messy?). So I'm going to operate under the assumption that we all know what happened and go from there. If need be, just go over to Wikipedia and search Alan Moore, or even just Watchmen, and you'll be able to get a decent summary of things.
Watchmen was a groundbreaking work when it was originally released in the 80's and is still viewed as a masterpiece today, often appearing on lists of the greatest novels ever written - a particularly impressive feat for a graphic novel in an age when comics in general are still widely regarded as below second class literature. Before there was any bad blood with the company, prequel and spinoff ideas were discussed, with neither Moore nor artist Dave Gibbons feeling very strongly about any of the projects. When the subject of other writers and artists taking a run with the characters came up, Moore was very vocal about his opposition.
And that, right there, is what irked me the most about DC's announcement: this Before Watchmen prequel project is in direct opposition to the creator's wishes. Moore is a bit of a polarizing figure - brilliant and bitter all at once - but however one feels about the man, it cannot be denied that Watchmen and its characters are his.
Now, what about Gibbons? The artist is every bit as important as the writer, and he's given the prequels his blessing, having remained on better terms with DC over the years. Supporting something that Alan Moore is against does not make Dave Gibbons wrong. However, the support of one of two creators does not stop this whole situation from feeling off. It's as if DC is saying, "Well, we know you don't want us to do this, but we're going to anyway, just because we can," and that doesn't sit well with me.
Am I saying that everybody involved with the project is evil and unethical? Absolutely not. Some very talented people whose work I respect very much are on board, and I will continue to respect them regardless.
However, let's ignore all of that for a moment. Let's say that all the creators and businessmen were BFFs and thought this was a wonderful idea. Ask yourself this: Does there really need to be more?
It almost seems like a stupid question. After all, it's human nature to want more of the things you love. But it's also undeniable that sometimes less is more. As a devoted Watchmen fan, I can honestly say that I don't need, or even really want, to see more of those characters, because the story we got was strong enough to stand on its own. There's something special about only having brief glimpses of what life was like for them in the past based on flashbacks and contextual clues, and being able to imagine the rest for yourself.
The best example of less being more that I can think of is Star Wars. That the film series started with Episode IV in big, bold print, immediately implying a rich history that we did not - and might not ever - know was exciting. The agony of only getting passing references to the Clone Wars and the fall of the Jedi was a secret thrill, especially because it let us know that a whole world existed outside of what we were being allowed to see. The prequel trilogy was destined to be the Daisy Buchanan of Star Wars nerds because that story could never, ever have lived up to what had been imagined for decades.
Sometimes a great story needs to be allowed to stand on its own, for the sake of the reader as much as for the artistic integrity of that story.
So, in case you hadn't guessed, I won't be picking up the prequels. It's a personal choice, one that certainly won't affect DC's bottom line for what will most assuredly be a financially successful project. I can't, in good conscience, as a writer who would feel violated if somebody co-opted my characters. I won't, as a reader who feels that she has already been given the ideal experience.
In the spirit of ending things on a light note, check out this classic from 2009 that, in spite of everything I just said, made us all wish for more Rorschach:
When I originally started drafting this post the morning of the announcement, I got really technical about all the details of Alan Moore's contract with DC and how the terms of said contract led to their pretty public and messy falling out. Then I realized that this was a big waste of my time and yours, precisely because it was pretty public (and did I mention messy?). So I'm going to operate under the assumption that we all know what happened and go from there. If need be, just go over to Wikipedia and search Alan Moore, or even just Watchmen, and you'll be able to get a decent summary of things.
Watchmen was a groundbreaking work when it was originally released in the 80's and is still viewed as a masterpiece today, often appearing on lists of the greatest novels ever written - a particularly impressive feat for a graphic novel in an age when comics in general are still widely regarded as below second class literature. Before there was any bad blood with the company, prequel and spinoff ideas were discussed, with neither Moore nor artist Dave Gibbons feeling very strongly about any of the projects. When the subject of other writers and artists taking a run with the characters came up, Moore was very vocal about his opposition.
And that, right there, is what irked me the most about DC's announcement: this Before Watchmen prequel project is in direct opposition to the creator's wishes. Moore is a bit of a polarizing figure - brilliant and bitter all at once - but however one feels about the man, it cannot be denied that Watchmen and its characters are his.
Now, what about Gibbons? The artist is every bit as important as the writer, and he's given the prequels his blessing, having remained on better terms with DC over the years. Supporting something that Alan Moore is against does not make Dave Gibbons wrong. However, the support of one of two creators does not stop this whole situation from feeling off. It's as if DC is saying, "Well, we know you don't want us to do this, but we're going to anyway, just because we can," and that doesn't sit well with me.
Am I saying that everybody involved with the project is evil and unethical? Absolutely not. Some very talented people whose work I respect very much are on board, and I will continue to respect them regardless.
However, let's ignore all of that for a moment. Let's say that all the creators and businessmen were BFFs and thought this was a wonderful idea. Ask yourself this: Does there really need to be more?
It almost seems like a stupid question. After all, it's human nature to want more of the things you love. But it's also undeniable that sometimes less is more. As a devoted Watchmen fan, I can honestly say that I don't need, or even really want, to see more of those characters, because the story we got was strong enough to stand on its own. There's something special about only having brief glimpses of what life was like for them in the past based on flashbacks and contextual clues, and being able to imagine the rest for yourself.
The best example of less being more that I can think of is Star Wars. That the film series started with Episode IV in big, bold print, immediately implying a rich history that we did not - and might not ever - know was exciting. The agony of only getting passing references to the Clone Wars and the fall of the Jedi was a secret thrill, especially because it let us know that a whole world existed outside of what we were being allowed to see. The prequel trilogy was destined to be the Daisy Buchanan of Star Wars nerds because that story could never, ever have lived up to what had been imagined for decades.
Sometimes a great story needs to be allowed to stand on its own, for the sake of the reader as much as for the artistic integrity of that story.
So, in case you hadn't guessed, I won't be picking up the prequels. It's a personal choice, one that certainly won't affect DC's bottom line for what will most assuredly be a financially successful project. I can't, in good conscience, as a writer who would feel violated if somebody co-opted my characters. I won't, as a reader who feels that she has already been given the ideal experience.
In the spirit of ending things on a light note, check out this classic from 2009 that, in spite of everything I just said, made us all wish for more Rorschach:
Friday, January 20, 2012
And Then It Was 2012... (Or, Right Now)
Oh, heeeeeey, guys.
Remember that time I started a project about holiday specials, planned on queuing up a bunch of posts so that it would keep going while I was on vacation, then gave up and went to Disneyland, after which I didn't say anything at all for a month?
Me neither.
On a completely unrelated note, I love Disneyland. A lot.
Anyway, my prolonged absence has spared you from having to read the usual occasionally reflective, more than occasionally self-indulgent thoughts on the state of my life, because we're more than halfway through January now and that would be so 2011. That's right, kids. It's a whole new year.
Do allow me just a moment, however, to acknowledge the year that was. 2011 was the first year I fully carried the, "Go Out and Do Stuff, Jerk," banner. It worked in my favor. Tremendously. If an opportunity to do something really cool presented itself to me, I took it. I stretched my finances, stepped out of my comfort zone, traveled, stayed local, went out alone, went out with friends old and new, and said yes a lot more than no. 2011 was about having adventures and giving myself stories to tell. Mission accomplished.
Operation: Go Out and Do Stuff, Jerk was so successful, in fact, that I have continued carrying that banner into 2012. Stay tuned.
Okay. Moment over.
So, here's the thing: I've never really had nails. I have a nervous habit instead. Last year, I firmly resolved to leave my hands alone and grow those fools out for pretty much the first time ever. Close to a week passed before a combination of stress and compulsion ended that dream.
But it's 2012 now, guys. The dream has been reborn.
My reason for setting this goal (again) is two-fold: 1) I hit the big 2-5. It's now completely undeniable that I'm kind of a grown-up, albeit the kind that is surrounded by toys and lights and all the other things lesser grown-ups envy. It's time to accept that having real people nails would probably lend me a little bit of street cred in the adult world. 2) The self-awareness involved in not absent-mindedly putting your fingers in your mouth or fussing with them in your lap is probably something I should have. Or whatever.
Oh, wait. The reason is three-fold: OPI put out a line of Muppet nail polishes, and they're kind of fun.
Yup. I said, "nail polish," and, "fun," in the same sentence (a sentence that did not contain the word, "destroy," at all, I might add). Disney's pretty crafty, getting in my head like that. It's almost as good as that time Benefit tricked/shamed me into buying a bunch of makeup, thus forcing me into figuring out how to wear it.
But come on. The wee mini ones are called Muppettes. That alone is a little irresistible.
Anyway, it's day 3, and these paws are starting to improve. I've white-knuckled it a little at times, by I remain optimistic.
2012. It's going to be my year.
Remember that time I started a project about holiday specials, planned on queuing up a bunch of posts so that it would keep going while I was on vacation, then gave up and went to Disneyland, after which I didn't say anything at all for a month?
Me neither.
On a completely unrelated note, I love Disneyland. A lot.
Anyway, my prolonged absence has spared you from having to read the usual occasionally reflective, more than occasionally self-indulgent thoughts on the state of my life, because we're more than halfway through January now and that would be so 2011. That's right, kids. It's a whole new year.
Do allow me just a moment, however, to acknowledge the year that was. 2011 was the first year I fully carried the, "Go Out and Do Stuff, Jerk," banner. It worked in my favor. Tremendously. If an opportunity to do something really cool presented itself to me, I took it. I stretched my finances, stepped out of my comfort zone, traveled, stayed local, went out alone, went out with friends old and new, and said yes a lot more than no. 2011 was about having adventures and giving myself stories to tell. Mission accomplished.
Operation: Go Out and Do Stuff, Jerk was so successful, in fact, that I have continued carrying that banner into 2012. Stay tuned.
Okay. Moment over.
So, here's the thing: I've never really had nails. I have a nervous habit instead. Last year, I firmly resolved to leave my hands alone and grow those fools out for pretty much the first time ever. Close to a week passed before a combination of stress and compulsion ended that dream.
But it's 2012 now, guys. The dream has been reborn.
My reason for setting this goal (again) is two-fold: 1) I hit the big 2-5. It's now completely undeniable that I'm kind of a grown-up, albeit the kind that is surrounded by toys and lights and all the other things lesser grown-ups envy. It's time to accept that having real people nails would probably lend me a little bit of street cred in the adult world. 2) The self-awareness involved in not absent-mindedly putting your fingers in your mouth or fussing with them in your lap is probably something I should have. Or whatever.
Oh, wait. The reason is three-fold: OPI put out a line of Muppet nail polishes, and they're kind of fun.
Yup. I said, "nail polish," and, "fun," in the same sentence (a sentence that did not contain the word, "destroy," at all, I might add). Disney's pretty crafty, getting in my head like that. It's almost as good as that time Benefit tricked/shamed me into buying a bunch of makeup, thus forcing me into figuring out how to wear it.
But come on. The wee mini ones are called Muppettes. That alone is a little irresistible.
Anyway, it's day 3, and these paws are starting to improve. I've white-knuckled it a little at times, by I remain optimistic.
2012. It's going to be my year.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
CDog's Guide to Holiday Programming, Day 5 (Or, Christmas With a Side of Noir)
Did the absence of a new post devastate you yesterday? Well, dry your eyes, kids. We're back with a new selection.
21. An Echolls Family Christmas - Veronica Mars, 2004
I recently tweeted (I know, so modern) that very few days go by without me stopping and thinking about how much I miss Veronica Mars at least once, and I stand by that statement. Bringing old school detective noir to high school in the form of a diminutive blonde with an acid tongue, sharp mind, and big heart was one of the greatest services Rob Thomas could've performed for the public, and I will be forever indebted. And let's not forget that, among many gifts, my beloved VMars gave me the magic that is Kristen Bell, who has since been criminally underutilized; Alona Tal, who is a supreme delight and impresses the hell out of me in literally everything she appears in; and Joss Whedon as a rental car agent.
Don't even try to dispute its excellence, because your argument is invalid.
Of the show's two Christmas episodes, the first season's, "An Echolls Family Christmas," was the one that didn't leave me sobbing quietly in a corner. This should not at all be interpreted as a lack of quality, but rather a simple difference in content.
The episode starts off typical, even tame, for our plucky but wounded adolescent investigator. After a couple intense reveals about the case that tore her life apart and possibly the real reason as to why her mother skipped town, a run of the mill case involving money stolen from an 09er (I miss saying that casually) poker game seems like small potatoes, even if our VMars does take it on in order to get ex-boyfriend Duncan's laptop back and ensure that any intimate details about their relationship stay safe within the confines of its hard drive.
Of course, things get real when Lisa Rinna and Harry Hamlin show up, furthering the theory that they have to appear together at least once on everything. Words are exchanged, infidelities are exposed, guys are stabbed...well, just one, but that's Christmas in Neptune for you - a nice reminder that all is not as shiny as it may appear behind the veil of the rich and famous.
What really drives this episode aren't either of the cases. It's the characters. The first season starts off as Veronica vs. the World, and that's important. Feeling her profound isolation not only drives the impact of the Kane murder home but also makes the people who do extend the hand of friendship - Wallace, Meg, Mac - seem all the more invaluable.
As the season gets underway, however, things are less cut and dry. Our first Christmas in Neptune helps us soften just a little toward baddest of the bad Logan Echolls and understand that behind the racist bully facade is a little boy with a jacked up family life, money or no money. Without this understanding, and the subtle shift in dynamic that comes with it, the show would not have been able to evolve.
"An Echolls Family Christmas." Not drowning in holiday cheer, but fun with a bit of poignant sadness thrown in. Sounds like a holiday party to me.
Highlights:
I give you one: the Heat Miser moment between Veronica and her dad right at the beginning. Their relationship will forever be the best of everything.
21. An Echolls Family Christmas - Veronica Mars, 2004
Photo credit: Warner Bros.
I recently tweeted (I know, so modern) that very few days go by without me stopping and thinking about how much I miss Veronica Mars at least once, and I stand by that statement. Bringing old school detective noir to high school in the form of a diminutive blonde with an acid tongue, sharp mind, and big heart was one of the greatest services Rob Thomas could've performed for the public, and I will be forever indebted. And let's not forget that, among many gifts, my beloved VMars gave me the magic that is Kristen Bell, who has since been criminally underutilized; Alona Tal, who is a supreme delight and impresses the hell out of me in literally everything she appears in; and Joss Whedon as a rental car agent.
Don't even try to dispute its excellence, because your argument is invalid.
Of the show's two Christmas episodes, the first season's, "An Echolls Family Christmas," was the one that didn't leave me sobbing quietly in a corner. This should not at all be interpreted as a lack of quality, but rather a simple difference in content.
The episode starts off typical, even tame, for our plucky but wounded adolescent investigator. After a couple intense reveals about the case that tore her life apart and possibly the real reason as to why her mother skipped town, a run of the mill case involving money stolen from an 09er (I miss saying that casually) poker game seems like small potatoes, even if our VMars does take it on in order to get ex-boyfriend Duncan's laptop back and ensure that any intimate details about their relationship stay safe within the confines of its hard drive.
Of course, things get real when Lisa Rinna and Harry Hamlin show up, furthering the theory that they have to appear together at least once on everything. Words are exchanged, infidelities are exposed, guys are stabbed...well, just one, but that's Christmas in Neptune for you - a nice reminder that all is not as shiny as it may appear behind the veil of the rich and famous.
What really drives this episode aren't either of the cases. It's the characters. The first season starts off as Veronica vs. the World, and that's important. Feeling her profound isolation not only drives the impact of the Kane murder home but also makes the people who do extend the hand of friendship - Wallace, Meg, Mac - seem all the more invaluable.
As the season gets underway, however, things are less cut and dry. Our first Christmas in Neptune helps us soften just a little toward baddest of the bad Logan Echolls and understand that behind the racist bully facade is a little boy with a jacked up family life, money or no money. Without this understanding, and the subtle shift in dynamic that comes with it, the show would not have been able to evolve.
"An Echolls Family Christmas." Not drowning in holiday cheer, but fun with a bit of poignant sadness thrown in. Sounds like a holiday party to me.
Highlights:
I give you one: the Heat Miser moment between Veronica and her dad right at the beginning. Their relationship will forever be the best of everything.
Monday, December 5, 2011
CDog's Guide To Holiday Programming, Day 4 (Or, COME ON!)
I'm going to depart from my usual style tonight by writing an open letter. To a TV show.
22. Afternoon Delight - Arrested Development, 2004
Dear Arrested Development,
Thanks for treating your viewers like intelligent people who could understand a joke without having it explained to them. Part of your genius was the fact that you could make a passing reference in one episode that would then reappear without a direct callback or commentary seven or eight episodes down the line, and it would automatically become 8x funnier as a result.
Also, thank you for shining the brightest light possible on the magic that is the quirky and absurd. It unlocked a lot of brains.
Now, I take you to the highlights, because there is really nothing to say that hasn't already been said by the legions who have been mourning the loss of the Bluths for years.
Highlights
1) The blue fingerprints on the wall that nobody acknowledges. Genius.
2) Never has a montage of a suit's escalating value been so amazing.
3) Alia Shawkat's delivery sharpens with every episode. This is one of her best.
4) "First I blow him, then I poke him."
5) Few things please me more than Buster talking about, "Army."
6) World's Most Effective Use of the Bleep award.
7) "The seal is for marksmanship. And the gorilla...is for sandracing."
8) Mae Whitman deserves every high five in the world.
9) Have any of us really stopped to consider the lyrics of Afternoon Delight? We have now.
10) It's actually a little bit devastating when Tobias misses that call.
22. Afternoon Delight - Arrested Development, 2004
Photo Credit: Fox
Dear Arrested Development,
Thanks for treating your viewers like intelligent people who could understand a joke without having it explained to them. Part of your genius was the fact that you could make a passing reference in one episode that would then reappear without a direct callback or commentary seven or eight episodes down the line, and it would automatically become 8x funnier as a result.
Also, thank you for shining the brightest light possible on the magic that is the quirky and absurd. It unlocked a lot of brains.
Now, I take you to the highlights, because there is really nothing to say that hasn't already been said by the legions who have been mourning the loss of the Bluths for years.
Highlights
1) The blue fingerprints on the wall that nobody acknowledges. Genius.
2) Never has a montage of a suit's escalating value been so amazing.
3) Alia Shawkat's delivery sharpens with every episode. This is one of her best.
4) "First I blow him, then I poke him."
5) Few things please me more than Buster talking about, "Army."
6) World's Most Effective Use of the Bleep award.
7) "The seal is for marksmanship. And the gorilla...is for sandracing."
8) Mae Whitman deserves every high five in the world.
9) Have any of us really stopped to consider the lyrics of Afternoon Delight? We have now.
10) It's actually a little bit devastating when Tobias misses that call.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
CDog's Guide to Holiday Programming, Day 3 (Or, SuperSanta FTW)
Look, up in the sky!
Bird?
Plane?
Nah, it's...
23. Lexmas - Smallville, 2005
The one-time WB-now-CW network's Smallville, which wrapped an impressive ten season run earlier this year, ranks as one of my most beloved shows ever. The modern re-imagining of Clark Kent's pre-Superman years as he came of age in Kansas was fun, clever, and often times surprisingly heartbreaking. That being said, it did suffer at times from an overabundance of fluff and cheese, especially before the 6th season shift that saw the show really start to embrace the mythology it was rooted in. "Lexmas" is a bit of the good and the bad rolled into one, but hey, they can't all be home runs, and there's enough of the former to earn it the 23 spot.
At its core, the episode is something of a reverse It's A Wonderful Life. Lex Luthor, who's still in his Maybe I'm Not Evil Even Though I Do Evil Stuff All The Time phase, approaches a shady guy in a shady part of Kansas about waging a dirty campaign against Jonathan Kent in the Senate race. After having a, "Once you go down this dark path, you can't turn back," moment, Lex says he needs to think about it, gets shot by thieves, and wakes up in a dream world where he's a nice middle-class guy married to Lana with a son and another baby on the way.
Now, I don't think I need to tell you that I side with the heroes. My favorite characters on any show tend to be the brave and tortured souls who sacrifice their own happiness for the sake of the world and end up having a million terrible things happen to them before they inevitably die in the most tragic and heroic manner possible. My Nemesis is so named because she's the opposite. In fact, her favorites have murdered mine on more than one occasion. So, naturally, if you asked her, the Lex thread is the best part of this entire episode. For me, it's good, but it's nothing new.
By this point in Smallville's run, Lex Luthor had played the, "Well, but maybe I'm just a good guy who's done some questionable things," card too many times, usually coupling it with a, "I'm the way I am because my dad sucks," that got just as tired. Unfortunately, this makes the better parts of Lex's fantasy life - his desire to have a stable family, open and honest friendships, the trust of the Kents, the love of the town, and everything else he couldn't manage to earn in reality - feel stale. It's hard to believe he might actually be capable of being this guy because he's already turned away from that path so many times. Still, it's a brilliant look at his psychosis, especially when we see that even when everything's perfect, he firmly believes the bottom has to drop out. This is a man who is 100% convinced that he cannot achieve happiness through love. Not the warmest of holiday revelations, but an honest moment for the character.
The Lex-has-been-shot subplot, where Lionel Luthor goes to extreme measures to ensure that his son will not be crippled by his injuries even if it means he will not survive, is forgettable. The episode would not have suffered if it had been cut.
Then, of course, there's my favorite bit: Clark playing Santa. Literally. What I loved most about the fifth season of Smallville was Chloe finally knowing Clark's secret. Their friendship became something really firm and beautiful as a result, and it also allowed for fun little moments like this. Was it cheesy? Yes. Especially when real Santa enters the picture. But it's my kind of cheese, and I embrace it without shame.
As would be the case with any reverse It's A Wonderful Life (clearly, I've decided to make that a thing), our shiny-headed compatriot does not get a happy ending. Having survived his ordeal, Lex calls his contact and instructs him to knock Jonathan Kent out of the race by any means necessary. It's meant to be a symbolic moment - the younger Luthor is finally embracing his dark side. But again, it feels like we've already been there. A few times. It robs the gesture of some of its power.
But then we hit that final shot and can't help but feel a little haunted.
Merry Christmas.
No highlights this time around, as we're 10 minutes away from midnight and I want to get this up. See you tomorrow!
Bird?
Plane?
Nah, it's...
23. Lexmas - Smallville, 2005
Photo credit: Warner Bros.
The one-time WB-now-CW network's Smallville, which wrapped an impressive ten season run earlier this year, ranks as one of my most beloved shows ever. The modern re-imagining of Clark Kent's pre-Superman years as he came of age in Kansas was fun, clever, and often times surprisingly heartbreaking. That being said, it did suffer at times from an overabundance of fluff and cheese, especially before the 6th season shift that saw the show really start to embrace the mythology it was rooted in. "Lexmas" is a bit of the good and the bad rolled into one, but hey, they can't all be home runs, and there's enough of the former to earn it the 23 spot.
At its core, the episode is something of a reverse It's A Wonderful Life. Lex Luthor, who's still in his Maybe I'm Not Evil Even Though I Do Evil Stuff All The Time phase, approaches a shady guy in a shady part of Kansas about waging a dirty campaign against Jonathan Kent in the Senate race. After having a, "Once you go down this dark path, you can't turn back," moment, Lex says he needs to think about it, gets shot by thieves, and wakes up in a dream world where he's a nice middle-class guy married to Lana with a son and another baby on the way.
Now, I don't think I need to tell you that I side with the heroes. My favorite characters on any show tend to be the brave and tortured souls who sacrifice their own happiness for the sake of the world and end up having a million terrible things happen to them before they inevitably die in the most tragic and heroic manner possible. My Nemesis is so named because she's the opposite. In fact, her favorites have murdered mine on more than one occasion. So, naturally, if you asked her, the Lex thread is the best part of this entire episode. For me, it's good, but it's nothing new.
By this point in Smallville's run, Lex Luthor had played the, "Well, but maybe I'm just a good guy who's done some questionable things," card too many times, usually coupling it with a, "I'm the way I am because my dad sucks," that got just as tired. Unfortunately, this makes the better parts of Lex's fantasy life - his desire to have a stable family, open and honest friendships, the trust of the Kents, the love of the town, and everything else he couldn't manage to earn in reality - feel stale. It's hard to believe he might actually be capable of being this guy because he's already turned away from that path so many times. Still, it's a brilliant look at his psychosis, especially when we see that even when everything's perfect, he firmly believes the bottom has to drop out. This is a man who is 100% convinced that he cannot achieve happiness through love. Not the warmest of holiday revelations, but an honest moment for the character.
The Lex-has-been-shot subplot, where Lionel Luthor goes to extreme measures to ensure that his son will not be crippled by his injuries even if it means he will not survive, is forgettable. The episode would not have suffered if it had been cut.
Then, of course, there's my favorite bit: Clark playing Santa. Literally. What I loved most about the fifth season of Smallville was Chloe finally knowing Clark's secret. Their friendship became something really firm and beautiful as a result, and it also allowed for fun little moments like this. Was it cheesy? Yes. Especially when real Santa enters the picture. But it's my kind of cheese, and I embrace it without shame.
As would be the case with any reverse It's A Wonderful Life (clearly, I've decided to make that a thing), our shiny-headed compatriot does not get a happy ending. Having survived his ordeal, Lex calls his contact and instructs him to knock Jonathan Kent out of the race by any means necessary. It's meant to be a symbolic moment - the younger Luthor is finally embracing his dark side. But again, it feels like we've already been there. A few times. It robs the gesture of some of its power.
But then we hit that final shot and can't help but feel a little haunted.
Merry Christmas.
No highlights this time around, as we're 10 minutes away from midnight and I want to get this up. See you tomorrow!
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