The Point At Which…

…I gave up on Season 6 of American Horror Story. After this scene played out, I looked at Ben and asked, "Had enough?" He nodded and we turned the television off. Pardon the unintentional pun, but stick a fork in it, Season 6 is done in this house.

Why? Because much like the arc The Walking Dead began at the end of Season 4 with the gratuitous cannibalism of Terminus and ended with the arrival of Negan and his barbed-wire wrapped baseball bat Lucille this year, what was once an engaging, interesting story of survival among the undead has turned into little more than torture porn; something I don't find at all entertaining.

I loved how AHS Season 6 started. It was horror with a genuine creep factor—a decided change from the usual camp that Murphy, Falchuk & Co. have imbued AHS with since Coven. The documentary format was refreshing. But then it jumped the shark and crossed the same line with me that TWD started two years ago. I already know only one of AHS's characters survives the gratuitous bloodbath this year's story has become, and it's a testament that I've reached the point that I genuinely DO. NOT. CARE. who it is.

This Ain't Your Father's Westworld


When I first heard that HBO was remaking the 1970s scifi classic Westworld, I was more than a little apprehensive. While Westworld was not by any means great 20th century cinema in like 2001: A Space Odyssey, it was still good—and after seeing it again only about a year ago, I felt it held up well and  in my estimation didn't need to be remade.

Well, I've now seen the first two episodes of HBO's journey into the world based on Michael Crichton's closer-than-we'd-like-to-believe future, and I have to say that any doubts I may have had have been erased and it's become one of my personal "must see" series this year.

Much like the team that took the original Battlestar Galactica and turned it on its head, Jonathan Nolan, J.J. Abrams & company have reimaged the original in such a way that I was immediately drawn in with its believability. We're only two episodes into the story, but it's already raising fundamental questions about the nature of sentience and what constitutes life itself—much like Galactica. There's also a decidedly sinister undercurrent to the whole operation; the park itself is only the outward manifestation of much darker things going on behind the scenes. By who and for what reason is one of the great mysteries already presented to the viewer. If I could binge watch the entire series right now, I would, because I want to know what happens next. It's that good.

From the Collider review:

Westworld seems determined to take a no-holds-barred approach to morality in the face of rapid technological advancement. It's not about humans, it's about humanity. What makes it? Who has it? Does our biology make us human? Or is it something more elusive? And can that essence, whatever it is, be translated into electrical impulse? Can A.I. be human? And what does "human" even mean in a world where technology and reality can blend so easily?

You see what I mean, it's pretty deep stuff. The series is essentially a meditation on consciousness, and all the pros and pratfalls that come with an aware state of mind, both human and artificial.

"It's questioning where does life begin," Nolan said,"and what characterizes the importance of life, whether it is a human who is dictated by biological impulses, and neuron synapsing, and the double helixes of DNA entwined within our bodies, or whether it's an artificial being that's coded with zeros and ones."

What makes a person good or bad? And can that which we create achieve a conscience all its own? Can it decide upon its own sense of right and wrong? These are the questions at the heart of Westworld's compelling narrative set-up.

On top of that, Westworld asks some pretty uncomfortable questions of its viewers — well, at least if you ascribe to conventional morality. "Who are we when we don't think anybody's keeping score?" Nolan asked, and that's really the crux of the human characters in a narrative where we're set to identify first and foremost with the robots. Who would you become in an environment like Westworld? How far would you go? And could you stomach watching a "person" brutally suffer, maybe even die, at your hand with every emotion rendered in explicit detail? If you knew they were naught but circuit boards and wires inside, what would you be capable of? And would that internal circuitry immediately deem them somehow less than the biological circuitry that dictates human life?

Exactly What I've Been Wondering

Because while Ben sits there metaphorically scratching his head, I absolutely love the batshit crazy of it…

From Gizmodo:

Why Are So Few People Talking About the Preacher TV Series?

Everywhere you go on the internet Monday mornings, people are talking about Sunday night's television. Mainly HBO's Game of Thrones. Lest we forget another major geek adaptation also airs Sunday nights, and has been for the past month: AMC's Preacher. So why are so few people talking about it?

Sure there are a few recaps here and there, but where's the water cooler talk? Where are the think-pieces (besides this one)? The long, detailed discussions of similarities and differences with the source material? It almost feels like the show is airing in a vacuum, and that's a disconcerting thought for a series with such a great pedigree, based on some immensely beloved source material.

The problems are hard to pin down, although premiering against arguably the best season of a mega-popular show like Thrones is certainly a factor. More importantly, though, this first season of Preacher has been struggling to find its voice. For comics fans, it's strange that the show's first season isn't chronicling the comic as much as serving as a prequel to it. And if you haven't read the comics, like most people, do you even really understand what's going on? Or is it just a vampire, a criminal, and a preacher in a very strange town, all prone to fits of graphic violence?

Before Preacher started, showrunner Sam Catlin said the following:

"We want to [escalate things] step by step," Catlin said. "Because I think if we just showed in the first episode, [angels] Deblanc and Fiore and Heaven and their floating space station with a hole in it… you sort of have to ratchet these things up. The idea of the show is like 'Oh, you're okay with vampires now? Oh what about this? What about this? What about this? So it's sort of like putting a frog in bowl of boiling water or something. So by the time you look upon Satan, you're like, 'Yeah, that makes sense.'"

That slow escalation has certainly been the case as we approach the halfway point of the first season. There have been teases to the major characters of the comic book (the Saint of Killers, Genesis, Arseface, etc) but, for the most part, it's simply been about Jesse's struggles to be a good guy—to be the Preacher of the title.

"You never see him being a preacher in the comics," said executive producer Seth Rogen. "We were like, 'It's called Preacher, he's dressed as a preacher the whole time, maybe you should see him being a preacher.' When the comic starts he's kind of done with it, basically. So we thought it would be good to show that that part of his life was like as well."

In theory, that's a great idea. But the good people aren't particularly interesting on Preacher. The best characters so far are the lovable assassin Tulip, the crazy vampire Cassidy, and the cold Odin Quincannon, who ended the most recent episode with a jaw-dropping act of villainy. Jesse, in the meantime, spends his time and his new powers trying to save a town that is already abundantly not deserving of it. Mostly cause so few of the characters are standouts. His repeated attempts to do good feel repetitive at best, and meaningless at worst.

We know that the show will, eventually, see Jesse, Tulip, and Cassidy hit the road to find God, because that's where the comics start. But these first five episodes almost feel like they're specifically delaying that inevitability. In reality they're trying to give more context for what's to come. Digging deeper with the characters so we'll be more attached. But when the comic is essentially a road trip story, having the show stuck in this single town has brought Preacher, both literally and figuratively, to a standstill.

It also doesn't help that whenever there's a hint of something weird, the show treats it like a mistake. In the last episode alone there was the phone ringing from Heaven and the angels explaining Jesse's power to him. Each scene was cut short just before it was about to get good. Other episodes have started, and ended, in the same ways with only ripples in the middle. That strategy will keep some viewers coming back for answers, but others will surely find it far more frustrating than intriguing.

There have been hints of the show we, the audience, think we want from Preacher. The plane flight in the pilot. The church fight in episode two. We know Preacher is possible but, the glacial pacing, the odd tone, the bizarre premise—it all adds up to a high-end, geek comic TV adaptation that almost no one is talking about. And despite the fact that Preacher was one of 2016's most anticipated new shows, as of right now, AMC has not renewed it for season two.

What makes this even more frustrating is that Rogen and Catlin, the people making the show, clearly get Preacher. If they can make it to season two, where Jesse's journey and the comic begin in earnest, then it's entirely possible the show will become the Game of Thrones, Walking Dead hit that everyone expected (and hoped for). Even now, as the show takes its sweet time, there are signs of the craziness, the grossness, and the wonderfulness that may be in store. Here's hoping Preacher gets that chance to show us.

UPDATE: Preacher has been renewed for Season 2, which means we ain't seen nothin' yet!

I Dreamt About The Doctor Last Night

I don't remember which Doctor and I don't remember whether I was a participant or merely an observer, but the gist of the dream was that The Doctor had done something impossible (as usual) to save someone/something/some planet, and in so doing placed the entire Universe in jeopardy. In the process, he ended up with two identical Tardises (Tardii?) and the only way he could make things right again was to learn whether space and time or space or time were indeed infinite.

To do this, he set each Tardis to explode if they discovered either one (or both) was finite and sent them on their way.

It turned out that time was infinite, but not space.

Last Night's Episode Is Probably My Last


Ben and I came into The Walking Dead at the beginning of season two and spent a week or so playing catch up with season one. We've both really enjoyed the series.

But this past season has been disappointing on so many levels, and while Ben abandoned the show a couple weeks ago, I soldiered onward, hoping there would still be something to keep me coming back for more.

But there isn't. I've lost all sympathy for any of the main characters and simply do. not. care. any more whether they live or die.

Tom & Lorenzo (who I actually stopped following a couple months ago because of their constant bitchiness about pretty much everything) actually hit the nail on the head; the reason myself and apparently many others are abandoning the show:

Good job, TWD creative team! Attaboys and girls! You did it! It took you all some time, but you've effectively chipped away all the coolness from your few cool characters. You've managed to turn Carol into Andrea, Morgan into Dale and Daryl into season 2 Carl. Brilliant. We expect Michonne will start trying to run in heels any episode now. At the very least, they should have her flip her car into a ditch on an empty road, for old time's sake.

We've spent roughly two whole seasons listening to Rick & Co. talk about how unprepared and naive the Alexandrians are, only to watch Rick & Co. consistently do idiotic things to demonstrate that they're really no smarter or better equipped to handle the world than anyone else. Because really, is Denise the dumb one for leaving the safety of Alexandria in pursuit of can of pop or is Carol the dumber one for leaving the safety of Alexandria because she's tired of killing people? Because you know what happens when you leave the safety of a place like Alexandria? You're almost immediately plunged into life-or-death situations that call on you to…kill people to survive. In other words, Carol left Alexandria because she's killed too many people, and then within hours of leaving, she kills another half-dozen. How does this make Carol anything but, well… an idiot? Then again, literally EVERYONE who walked out those gates—all of whom are counted among the best fighters in Alexandria because they're all Rick-ites—are insanely and implausibly stupid for leaving the compound right after having declared war on a rival group by attacking and killing them.

Christ, what an awful episode. What a waste of time watching these people all inexplicably turn into other people for no reason than to service a plot that seems fairly weighted with inevitability and expectations at this point. Someone Important Is Going To Die. And in order for that to happen, Everyone's IQ Has To Plummet.

And right on schedule, as we've been predicting all season, the Saviors suddenly and without warning went from a ragtag collection of smug Barney Fifes to the type of people who can sneak up on Daryl and shoot him before he gets a chance to react. Ugh. There is not one person in the cast right now whose death would upset us. Michonne, maybe. But it's hard to remain concerned with (or even interested in) the fates of people who go dumb at a moment's notice.

Even Kris, a friend of mine from DISH who is a hardcore fan responded to a text this morning wherein I told him I thought I was done with the series because of all this crap. "For me it's the plot issues—the fact you can tell every episode has a different director. Doris and I very frequently look at each other and say 'He/she wouldn't do that!'"

At this point, I believe that whatever horrible things happen to Rick's band at the hands of Neagan (I don't follow the comics so I don't really know what's going to happen, but I have a pretty good idea) are well deserved. Rick & Co. have turned into exactly the kind of people they've been trying to avoid since the beginning of the Apocalypse.

I could go on and on, but I've already expended more energy on this than I'd intended, and it just isn't worth it, but I will leave you with this thought posted by a commenter on another board:

"There doesn't seem to be an end game or conclusion to this story; just endless suffering."

Childhood's End

"Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying." ~ Arthur C. Clarke

Now that SyFy's 3-part miniseries based on the iconic book Childhood's End has concluded, here are some thoughts (spoilers ahead):

As I wrote a couple days ago, my biggest fear was that the network was going to screw it up. They did not. Being one of my favorite disturbing sci-fi books, the last thing I wanted to see was a big-budget raping of the original material.

What we did see these past three nights was a thoughtful updating and augmentation of the original source material. My only quibble with the changes SyFy introduced was that the original timeline was so radically reduced, but I understand why it was done. In the book, an entire generation passed before the Overlords revealed their physical form to humanity; not a mere ten years as in the adaptation.

And for good reason:

While even a generation's time would not completely erase the emotional baggage associated with the Overlord's appearance, I feel a mere ten years would provide no psychological buffer whatsoever.

The fact that the Overlords' "demonic" appearance conjures such primal fear raises the question as to what traumatic encounter the Overlords had with Humanity in the distant past to prompt such a reaction. But as it was explained, the fear experienced by Humans was not due to a racial memory, but a racial premonition of their role in humanity's metamorphosis.

(I also had envisioned the Overlords' ships more in the style of what was presented in the "V" miniseries, but that's a very minor point.)

While a myriad of small details were changed from the original story (such as the hotel suite where Stormgren—who was actually the head of the United Nations in the book, and not a mere "blue collar emmisary" in the miniseries—finds himself during his initial encounters with Karellen), SyFy still did an excellent job of bringing Clarke's book to life, retaining the overall plot and all the major themes. Even when new facets were added to the story to make it more timely, they were integrated seamlessly and logically. So good was the storytelling that I actually had to go back and read the novel again to see what had been changed (apart from what I had remembered) and discovered I actually liked what SyFy had done in many cases.

The only other thing I have to add to this is that based on what's happening in our world today, IMHO the Overlords cannot arrive soon enough and will close this with some gratuitous Mike Vogel as Ricky Stormgren for your viewing pleasure, because why the hell not?

Impure Thoughts

I was going to write a short review of the first part of SyFy's Childhood's End today, but while watching it again this morning I was distracted by how well Mike Vogel's beautiful ass does cowboy boots and skinny jeans.

Just sayin', Mike. Just sayin'.

That being said, what I can say so far is that I'm not at all disappointed with what I've seen. My biggest fear was that SyFy was going to totally screw up one of the most iconic and revered stories in science fiction. While it's not a word-for-word adaptation of Clark's original material, they seem to have done an admirable job of moving the 60 year-old material into the 21st century while staying true to the author's vision. There are a few differences so far between screen and book (mainly the role of the character played by Mr. Vogel and the span-of-time between the Overlords' arrival and their physical reveal), but these changes still work, (you wouldn't even know if you hadn't read the book) and I liken the overall feel to how the network rebooted Battlestar Galactica.

What We're Currently Watching

In no particular order:

Zoo (CBS) This show started out with an interesting premise: that the animals are done with our shit and they're doing something about it. Unfortunately, the show just isn't panning out. I won't go so far as to say it's completely jumped the shark, but, well… it's a good thing James Wolk is pretty.

The Strain (FX) Pleasantly surprised by this one. What would you do during a Zombie Vampire Apocalypse? The Strain is relatively slow burn and some reviewers have called it "plodding" but I think it's moving along at a good enough pace to keep the interest up. The cinematography is beautiful (as expected with anything Guillermo Del Toro has a hand in), but as seems to be the norm in this sort of show these days, some of the characters do incredibly stupid things. Additionally, the the writers have left gaping holes unpatched (How exactly did the main character get back from Washington DC into to a quarantined New York City after being shot with such relative ease?). But there's a lot of good backstory exposition outlining how the creatures came came to be…and Corey Stoll is pretty.

Under the Dome (CBS) Initially, this was an interesting and entertaining way to spend an hour every week, but it this season the writers not only jumped the shark, they've gone to airline cruising altitude. It's pretty bad when I learned this morning there are only two more episodes until the series conclusion (not just the season's) and I thought, "Praise the Baby Jeebus!" So why am I sticking through until the bitter end? Mike Vogel is pretty.

The Whispers (ABC) A decent cast headlined by Lily Rabe and Barry Sloane with an interesting storyline has kept us engaged. "Unseen forces use unwitting human children to achieve their nefarious ends." As of last week we still don't know what their nefarious ends are (I haven't seen the season finale yet), but Barry Sloane is pretty.

Fear the Walking Dead (AMC) I'm giving this one the benefit of the doubt, despite its glacially slow first episodes. What did the world look like as it was transforming into the horrifying apocalypse depicted in The Walking Dead? I realize that as viewers we have the advantage of knowing—unlike the show's characters—what's going down and simply want it all to hurry up and happen, but I'm hoping the payoff will be that through the extended character building we actually come to care about them the way we do in The Walking Dead. So far I'm not impressed by the drug-addict teen (who physically reminds me way too much of Johnny Depp) or his angst-ridden sister, but like I said, I'm willing to see where this goes. And let's be honest: until The Walking Dead returns, what else is there to watch Sunday night?

The Walking Dead (AMC) Needs no commentary. If you don't know what this is, you've been living under a rock the last five years.

Talking Dead (AMC) Immediately follows The Walking Dead to recap that night's episode. And it's anchored by Chris Hardwick—whom I have impure thoughts about.

At Midnight with Chris Hardwick (Comedy Central) Chris Hardwick. Duh. (Even if Ron Funches—who I don't find funny at all and is annoying as hell—always wins when he's on.)

Rizzoli & Isles (TNT) Yeah, I know this one is a little out of place in this sci-fi heavy lineup, but I do like Sasha Alexander. I loved her as Kate on NCIS, and I think this character gave her the opportunity to bring her own personal brand of "Ducky" (from NCIS) to the role. And Jordan Bridges is pretty. MOAR SHIRTLESS JORDAN BRIDGES PLEASE!

Masters of Sex (SHO) The first couple seasons were hot and steamy, and did a great job of bringing the story of William H. Masters and Virginia E. Johnson and their groundbreaking (and very scandalous for its time), Human Sexual Response to the small screen. The series was rooted in the repressive 1950s and rang true on so many levels, but as the story has progressed beyond the publishing of the book and into the 1960s, it seems to be grasping for direction—openly flashing a disclaimer before every episode that the characters of the children are entirely fictitious. I'm still watching, but it seems to be turning more and more into a soap opera, and I'm rapidly losing interest in (or caring about any of) the characters. In real life, we know Masters and his wife eventually divorced and he married Johnson, but while the onscreen story seems to be heading in that direction, it's taking way too many detours.

Ripper Street (BBC) I love these period BBC dramas, although for the life of me I have no idea what's actually happened to this program. According to the website it's still on, but we missed the first couple episodes this season and it seems to have completely disappeared from our lineup, which is a shame. Because Matthew MacFadyen and his awesome sideburns is pretty. But unfortunately, not pretty enough that I want to spend $2.00 per episode to catch up.

Deutschland 83 (Sundance) This is an eight-episode German television series starring Jonas Nay as a 24-year-old native of East Germany who in 1983 is sent to the West as an undercover spy for the Stasi. I've made it through about two episodes thus far. I like it enough to keep going, but it's definitely not one of those shows I call "background noise" (and not only because I have to pay attention to the subtitles since my memory of German only allows me to pick out a word here and there). You need to pay attention to follow what's going on; definitely not something that can done if you're sitting with your laptop in the evening reading tweets and downloading pr0n.

Mr. Robot (USA) This show is OFF. THE. RAILS. (And I love it.)

Humans (AMC) While the season just ended, I have to include it here because it was one of my favorite shows of the summer. It presented our near-future in the most realistic, believable way I've ever seen portrayed. The scenarios under which the human characters interacted with the "synths" resonated and were simply believable.

This scene was straight out of Ray Bradbury's classic I Sing the Body Electric but it worked.

Extant (CBS) This is one of those shows that started out with a very interesting premise and after a great first season, totally jumped the shark and went into low earth orbit in season two. I think the problem is that they were trying too hard to tie together disparate storylines and ended up turning it into one incomprehensible WTF mess. (See also: Murder in the First.)