Monday, December 18, 2017

My Top Ten Binge-Watches of 2017

Contrary to what this post might suggest, I actually did have a life away from the TV screen this year.

I travelled to Europe. I performed with two choral groups. I was on the planning committee for my high school reunion (which took place in September) and on the fund-raising committee for one of my choral groups.  Hell, I lost over 30 pounds this year, and you can't do that by just sitting on your butt in front of the TV!

But the fact that I have 10 favorite binge-watches to write about clearly indicates that I binged more than 10 series this year.  Then again, there was a lot to choose from - and I  still didn't even get around to watching any of the following: Dear White People, She's Gotta Have It, Godless, The OA, Stranger Things, Thirteen Reasons Why, Wormwood, I Love Dick.  The ones I got to, but didn't like so much?  I'll just leave that to your imagination.

Here are the series that kept me glued to the screen and the couch for extended periods of time this year, in ascending order of preference:

10. National Treasure (Hulu)



This four-part British miniseries could not be more timely - a moody, complex drama about a beloved comedy star (Robbie Coltrane) whose life falls apart after women from his past accuse him of sexual assault. It's not without distracting flaws, however. There are far too many artsy-fartsy flourishes (tolling bells on the soundtrack or actors' faces obscured by shadows or washed in blue light at the most intense moments), and the have-it-both-ways finale is, frankly, infuriating. But a quartet of superb actors in the lead roles carry the day. In addition to Coltrane, there's Julie Walters as his long-suffering spouse, Andrea Riseborough as the estranged daughter who doubts his innocence, and Tim McInnerny as the former comedy partner determined to preserve the duo's reputation and legacy.

MVP: Walters, who is the quiet soul of the series. Her transformation from supportive wife to a fed-up woman seeking her own peace is rendered with exceptional delicacy.

9. Transparent, Season 4 (Amazon)

 
Lots of family secrets were spilled in this year's installment of Transparent. Unfortunately, they'd already been revealed to the audience via flashbacks over the previous two seasons - only the characters themselves had to catch up.  Anti-climactic and repetitive as it was, Season 4 still managed some engrossing drama from the family's trip to Israel and its thematic meditations on the meanings of homeland and boundaries.  Sadly, the sexual harassment allegations against Jeffrey Tambor have cast an uncertain shadow over the future of the series, but showrunner Jill Soloway and her cast continued their tradition of fine work in this fourth season.

Best Character Development:  Josh (Jay Duplass) finally came to terms with his past and forgave his mother - long overdue growth for an especially frustrating, emotionally stunted character.  Sarah remains, however, The Worst Pfeffernan, so let's hope there's some maturity and redemption ahead for her if/when Season 5 comes along. (I was relieved to see Amy Landecker admit in an interview this year that even she is fed up with Sarah's narcissism.)


8. Master of None, Season 2 (Netflix)


The sophomore season of Aziz Anzari's series was ambitious but uneven.  Ansari clearly watched a lot of Italian films during the show's hiatus, but he mostly missed the point of them.  The season opener, an homage to DeSica's Bicycle Thieves, is almost offensive in equating Dev's lost cell phone to the stolen bicycle that prevents a man in post-war Rome from being able to support his family.  And his putative romance with a Italian woman is too precious by half.  But the "Religion" and "Thanksgiving" episodes are shining examples of what Ansari does best: affectionate, forgiving depictions of the differences between young adults and their parents on matters of belief and behavior that invariably end on a hopeful note.

Best Episode:  "Religion," which depicts his mother's deep sadness over her son's failure to follow the tenets of Islam. It's at once specific to Muslims and universal enough to touch everyone who's had a falling out with their parents over religion. This Catholic girl got teary-eyed over the parallel between Dev's story and my own life - both of us had disappointed our mothers by refusing to accept their lovingly offered legacy of a belief system to help us through the tough times in our lives. In the end Dev finally opens and reads the Quaran his mother gave him when he went off to college. For my part, I returned to the Catholic Church a few years back, and have never regretted it.

7. Feud: Bette and Joan (FX, Amazon)


Worth watching mainly for Jessica Lange's fearless portrayal of Joan Crawford and Susan Sarandon's relatively restrained take on Bette Davis.  Plus the behind-the-scenes dirt on the tumultuous making of What Every Happened to Baby Jane ? is wickedly delicious fun.  However, I take exception to the thickness with which Ryan Murphy lays on the whole "tragedy of the discarded aging actress" shtick, particularly with regard to Crawford  Maybe the reason Joan Crawford had trouble finding decent roles (and friends) later in life wasn't because her youth and looks were gone. Maybe it was because she was a mean, unstable drunk and a genuine pain in the ass.

Biggest Load of BS:  Joan Blondell (Kathy Bates) tells an interviewer that Crawford's stunt of faking a respiratory illness to shut down production on Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte was "pretty great!"  She then goes on to mourn the injustice of Joan being discarded by the studios in middle-age. My strong suspicion is that the real Joan Blondell would have seen this for the highly unprofessional tantrum that it was.  Also, see my comments above.

6. Project Runway, Season 16 (Lifetime)


I didn't even know Project Runway was still on the air till I signed up for Sling TV and found it alive and kicking on the Lifetime Channel. I discovered it just in time to watch part 1 of the finale live, and soon caught up on the entire season.  It remains the most satisfying and fun of television's competitions shows. (The high-adrenaline stress levels of Amazing Race have been always been too much for me, and watching Top Chef only led me to excessive nighttime snacking, frustrated by my inability to taste the winning concoctions.)  With Project Runway, however, I can fully experience how stunning and (usually) deserving the winning creations are. Plus I revel in the quirky eccentricities of the participants - which this year included a pair of highly dramatic identical twin sisters and a finalist who repeatedly cranked out cropped tops over drawstring pants that inexplicably earned the judges' love week after week. (He didn't win, though.)

Best Moment:  The Season 16 winner, Kentaro, plays a piece of music for Tim Gunn that he has composed to accompany his runway show.
GUNN:  That's beautiful! What inspired that?
KENTARO:  I found a dead cat on the street and I buried it.  When I put my ear to the ground where I buried the cat, this is what the earth sounded like.
Need I tell you that Gunn's reaction shot is absolutely priceless?

5. Bojack Horseman, Season 4



There must have been the usual Hollywood satire, bad animal puns, and general silliness in this season of Bojack Horseman. But all I can remember now is the bold, devastating way it dug into the title character's long-suppressed family trauma.  Yes, this is still a cartoon series about an alcoholic former sitcom star who is also a horse.  But it's also a painfully accurate depiction of family dysfunction and how it gets passed down to each generation.  I can't explain that to you, but trust me, it feels miraculous. And as sad as it sounds, there are just enough goofy riffs on pop culture in each episode to keep you from tuning out in despair.

Best Episode You Haven't Heard About:  It wasn't all about the Horseman family in season 4; in the ninth episode, "Ruthie," we also got a glimpse into the wounded soul of Bojack's former agent, Princess Caroline (brilliantly voiced by Amy Sedaris). The episode opens many years in the future with her great-great-granddaughter telling classmates the story of how Caroline was able to bounce back from the worst day of her life.  It's loaded with witticisms so finely honed that you may not catch them all without a repeat viewing. (A sample: "I take a licking and keep on ticking - like a lollipop with Tourette's!") But the final, surprise twist in the story will break your heart, 


4. The Handmaid's Tale (Hulu)


Hulu released The Handmaid's Tale in once-a-week episodes rather than dropping all ten parts on a single day.  But I went back and watched the entire series again over the course of a couple of days - and if you thought the series was scary in weekly, one-hour installments, you have no idea how terrifying it can be for four hours at a pop. Bingeing the series only intensifies the feeling of queasy dread from watching day-to-day life under an inescapable totalitarian regime.  There were a couple of dud episodes in the middle where the writers felt the need to give us backstories on the male characters, but where the series was true to Margaret Atwood's novel, it succeeded brilliantly.  The cinematography and production design combined for some memorably chilling visuals. Elizabeth Moss and Ann Dowd were the standouts in a universally fine cast, both giving performances of carefully modulated restraint that made their emotional outburst moments all the more powerful.

Worst Idea:  Hulu greenlighting The Handmaid's Tale for a second season.  Season One ends on the same ambiguous note as Atwood's novel, and would have been perfect if they'd left it there.  Whenever the series has veered too far from its source material, it's been noticeably weaker.  I don't have high hopes for the next season - this is entirely too hard an act to follow.

3. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (Amazon)


This ambitious comedy from the creators of The Gilmore Girls is a triumph of both personality and place.  It conjurs up 1950s Manhattan in glorious detail, with an apparently bottomless production budget and a soundtrack heavy on charming, period-appropriate novelty tunes.  And it heralds the birth of a star, both within the story and within its cast.  Rachel Brosnahan breezes into the role of Midge Maisel - a pampered Jewish housewife who unwittingly becomes a notorious stand-up comic  like she's been waiting for it her whole life. Drunk on Kosher wine after her husband leaves her for his secretary, Midge stumbles into a Greenwich Village nightclub on open-mike night and wows the crowd with an bawdy, impromptu comic monologue on her predicament.  Brosnahan - a heretofore serious dramatic actress with no stand-up experience - is stunning in the role, channeling the energy and timing of the great screwball comediennes while bringing a wholly original resilience and nerve of her own.  In her hands, Mrs. Maisel is, hands down, the television character I wanted to spend the most time with this year. In a field of deadly serious streaming channel dramas, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is a blessedly breezy, merry-go-round ride of a show.

Best Real Estate:  The Maisels' Upper West side "classic six" apartment is the home of my dreams.  

2. The Crown, Season 2 (Netflix)



This season of The Crown covers the years of 1957-1963, and let's just say that the material lacks the glamour and pageantry of Season One - no coronations, state funerals or great loves derailed by the Church of England here.  Even so, its overarching theme of a monarchy adapting itself to the modern age is mostly well-developed and enlightening, despite one speciously awful episode involving a visit from the Kennedys.  (That episode alone kept The Crown from achieving the top position on my list.)

There's a lot of Prince Phillip's backstory this year, giving Matt Smith a chance to shine. (And also proving that no matter how a big a jerk The Crown makes Phillip out to be, the real-life Duke of Edinburgh is so much worse - just read these stories! Yikes!) There's also some startlingly sexy stuff between Princess Margaret and her bad-boy husband, Antony Armstrong-Jones, played with devilish confidence by Matthew Goode.

Best Episode: In "Vergangenheit", Alex Jenning's Duke of Windsor resurfaces to ask the Crown for a government post in which he can serve his country. Unfortunately, the Queen has just obtained the classified documents which prove he colluded with Hitler in a plot to regain his throne. The episode briefly resurrects the sort of goofy frivolity that made the Duke and Duchess a reliable source of comic relief in Season 1. (The highlight is a party for their pug, Trooper, with the servants lined up to sing "Happy Birthday."). But it climaxes with Elizabeth's lacerating take-down of her uncle in which she denies him permission to return to England. One of many exemplary scenes this season for Claire Foy, it's an especially shocking moment in light of Season 1's sympathetic treatment of the Duke - as final and dismissive as if the Queen had lowered an ax on his head. The episode ends with a photo montage of the real-life Duke and Duchess smiling and yucking it up with the Fuhrer, just in case you had any doubts about its historical accuracy. Really powerful, really damning stuff.  On the bright side, we also see the beginning of Elizabeth's friendship with American evangelist Billy Graham, a surprising, touching (and also historically accurate) insight into the Queen's devotion to her Christian faith.

1. Alias Grace (Netflix)


I devoured this entire 5 1/2 hour miniseries in one day, because I literally could. Not. STOP watching it.

It certainly was a great year for author Margaret Atwood on streaming television..  Although The Handmaid's Tale got all the glamour and glory, this is the superior Atwood adaptation (just as the novel on which it is based is significantly better than The Handmaid's Tale.)  It circles quietly around the question of whether its title character is guilty of murdering her employer and his mistress and resolves in an entirely surprising way.  Although it is set in the late 19th century, it addresses issues which have come to be every bit as relevant to modern audiences as those in The Handmaid's Tale (the immigrant experience, reproductive rights) but in lighter, less obvious tones.

The series preserves Atwood's first-person narrative structure by allowing Grace (Sarah Gadon) to tell her story to a doctor (Edward Holcroft) over several days and meetings, parceling out the details with an expert storyteller's control.  Gadon plays Grace as deceptively shy and reserved, but she controls the narrative, giving the doctor just enough to tantalize and captivate him, keeping some of the truths and the darkest parts for herself (and the viewers, via her voiceovers in the brief scenes between the doctor's visits.)

Few film or television adaptations of novels are as satisfying as their source material - or at least not satisfying in the same way.  But the series Alias Grace (which was written by Atwood herself, along with director Sarah Polley) represents a new, high bar in literary adaptation: true to its source, with a heightening and intensifying of the themes that make it relevant to a contemporary audience.  It is not to be missed.

The Margaret Atwood cameo:  She's a snooty, hypocritical churchgoer in Episode Four. Blink and you'll miss her.