BInge Watches of 2019 - Ranked

If ever there was a year to lose myself in television binge-watching, 2019 was it for me.

The past year has been a never-ending series of stressors - punctuated by the occasional moment of joy, but finally culminating in melancholy and weariness. In the last few months, I've watched both my parents rapidly lose ground, both physically and cognitively. My brother and I spent the entire autumn making repeated trips to our Indiana hometown - to emergency rooms, hospital rooms, nursing homes, caregiver agencies and stores selling wheelchairs and walkers. Just prior to this harried new chapter of life, I went through a troubling cancer scare; following it, I experienced a sudden rash of issues with my car.

In times like these, I need television to be like comfort food. What better comfort is there  than allowing oneself to sink into her sofa and devour an entire tv series in one weekend-sized gulp?  It sure worked for me.

I've ranked these in order from least favorite to most favorite, but honestly, there is no truly bad series on this list.  Some near the bottom of the list were a tad disappointing, but I did not consider any of this viewing to be a waste of time.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present for your conisderation, the binge watches of 2019....

11. Catastrophe, Season 4 (Amazon Prime)

This jaundiced view of marriage and parenthood from Shannon Horgan and Rob Delaney has lost a little of its appeal with each successive year. Its final season was marred by the unrelenting nastiness of the fights between the main characters; the bickering no longer felt authentic, just pointless and exhausting. I will give them props for pulling off a brilliantly ambiguous final scene, but its payoff was just barely earned by the five episodes preceding it.  

10. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, Season 3 (Amazon Prime)

This series is also beginning to lose its way.  We're three seasons in, and I've never once really laughed at any of Midge Maisel's stream-of-consciousness comedy riffs. She's entertaining but not nearly as uproarious as she's cracked up to be, and her rise to stardom feels a little far-fetched.  Neither her parents' marital woes nor her ex-husband's adventures in opening a new nightclub are particularly fertile dramatic ground, though you'd never know that by the inordinate amount of time spent depicting them. There's a pretty great episode near the mid-point which culminates in an enchanted evening between Midge and Lenny Bruce, and Alex Borstein continues to add welcome layers of nuance, heart and humor to her portrayal of Midge's gruff manager.  But the show's meticulous production design is no longer sufficient to distract us from the thinness of the show's overabundant, yet underdeveloped plot lines.  Let's hope they find their focus again in season 4 ….provided there is a season 4.

9. Years and Years (HBO)

Feels like a four-part episode of Black Mirror, but with more politics than technology in the dystopian mix.  That's not necessarily a bad thing, by the way, and this HBO series paints a fairly convincing and utterly devastating picture of how the next 30 years might go if Trump stays in office and drops a bomb on China.  It's the fall and rise of civilization as seen through the eyes of one struggling British family, with terrific performances by Rory Kinnear and Emma Thompson - the latter as a rabid right-wing leader who deploys catchphrases and distracting half-truths with Trumpian aplomb.  

8. The Komiskey Method, Season 2 (Netflix)

Chuck Lorre's Netflix series is darker and deeper than his usual mainstream/network sitcom fare (although not without laughs), and showcases terrific performances by Michael Douglas and Alan Arkin as longtime friends battling the indignities of aging. Where the first season was enjoyable but often glib and predictable, the second is more thoughtful, complicated and melancholy. There's a particularly good subplot involving Arkin's attempts to make peace with his recovering addict daughter while building a new relationship after the death of his wife.  Douglas' character, a washed-up actor turned teacher, is decidedly less sympathetic and a bit less interesting. But Douglas taps so deeply into the character's self-absorption and emotional cluelessness that it never feels like he's acting at all.

7. Dead to Me (Netflix)

It starts off by satirizing the misguided good intentions of condolence givers and grief support groups, but then quickly goes to unexpected places. The journey skillfully combines a mystery/thriller with a female buddy comedy, and the inevitable shifts in tone along the way are fairly seamless. Cristina Applegate and Linda Cardellini are terrific, both together and separately, and I was happy to see a cliff-hanger ending which means there will surely be more to come.  More I will not say here - if you haven't seen it yet, it's best to go in without too much information; let the plot twists and turns take you by surprise.

6. Catherine the Great (HBO)

This might well be the sexiest historical epic ever made. There's a remarkably electric and erotic chemistry between Helen Mirren's empress and Jason Clarke's Grigory Potemkin, and the series is about five parts love story to one part history lesson.  It's gorgeous to look at too, with ravishingly beautiful sets and costumes, and some of the most gorgeous cinematography on television. Mirren's Catherine is portrayed as a great reformer, but also a conniving, power-hungry monarch; she's a complex, not especially sympathetic character, except when seen though Potemkin's adoring eyes.

5. Veep, Season 7

The final season was the meanest and darkest yet, and that's really saying something. It's pretty tough to stay one satirical step ahead of our actual political climate these days - showrunner David Mandel and his formidable cast achieved all that... and then some, delivering as many gasps as laughs. More proof, if proof is required, that Julia Louis-Dreyfus is a comedic goddess.  And it has one of the most satisfying final episodes in recent memory.

4. The Act (Hulu)

I stumbled on to this series on Hulu and found it positively addictive, in the way that particularly lurid or outrageous true crime stories can be when done well.  There's something creepy about the closeness of DeeDee Blanchard and her invalid daughter, Gypsy Rose, right from the get go; the series parcels out tantalizing clues to truth of their situation through its first few episodes, then expertly escalates the tension though the final, terrible chapter.  Patricia Arquette finds sympathetic depths in a mostly monstrous character, and Joey King brings unexpected complexity to a role that could all too easily have been a caricature.  Once you start watching this one, you can't not binge it.

3. The Crown, Season 3

Oh screw it, what am I going to say here that Crown watchers don't already know?  Did anyone honestly think Olivia Colman wouldn't seamlessly slip into the role of middle-aged Queen Elizabeth?  That Helena Bonham-Carter wouldn't be an absolute hoot as Princess Margaret (even if she never actually challenged LBJ to a dirty limerick contest in real life)?  There are no surprises in this season, and I mean that in the best possible way: The Crown remains as classy, thoughtful and perfectly acted as ever.  Ok, I lied - there are two surprises this season: the performances of Erin Doherty and Josh O'Connor as, respectively, a devilishly saucy Princess Anne and a deeply sensitive, very sympathetic Prince Charles.  Until I saw Doherty in action, I didn't know I even wanted Anne to be a character in this series - now I look forward to her every appearance.  And O'Connor captures Charles down to the smallest gesture and vocal inflection, but his performance transcends mere impersonation.  He's quickly becoming the underdog to cheer for.

2. Fleabag, Season 2

This was a nice surprise. 'Cause I'll be honest here - I really did not care for Season One at all.  Phoebe Waller-Bridge and her relentless, fourth-wall-breaking smirks and asides to the camera were too clever by half, and by the time she got around to revealing the genuine anguish behind her character's behavior, I had ceased to care. But Season Two?  It's a masterpiece - and I am most assuredly not exaggerating when I say that.  From the opening shot in which a bloodied Waller-Bridge catches our eye in a ladies room mirror and informs us "This is a love story" through the emotionally devastating final episode, the season is a brilliant, brittle comedy of love and loss, anxiety, redemption, and the myriad ways that family ties both chafe and secure us. "Fleabag" - as the lead character is billed (she is never called by name) - reforms her life, faces her demons, and falls in love, unfortunately with a man sworn to celibacy (Andrew Scott's "Hot Priest" as he is billed in the credits. For those of us Catholic women, familiar with the phrase "Father What-a-Waste," Scott's portrayal is the very definition of it.)  Along the way, she finally allows herself to be vulnerable, seen, loved in return.  Fleabag is briskly funny and ironic in the way of smart British comedies, but it wears its heart perilously close to its skin.  Also - the scene in the final episode between Fleabag's sister and brother-in-law (which culminates in her sister dropping to her knees and begging her husband to leave her) is the single best-written, best-acted, most scintillating 5 minutes of television I saw anywhere, all year.

1. Chernobyl (HBO)

Probably the closest thing to a water cooler show we've had in 20 years -  it was the talk of my office for weeks, and probably yours as well. Riveting and harrowing, yet compulsively watchable, it turned the worst nuclear accident in history into an expertly made thriller with great performances and no shortage of edge-of-your-seat moments. Was some dramatic license taken along the way? Of course. A rather large number of real-life scientists were combined into one composite character played by Emily Watson. The timing of some revelations was altered to heighten the drama, and (apparently) the disfigurement of the those exposed to the radiation was exaggerated for maximum horrific effect. But the catastrophic impact of the incident - which very nearly took out half of Europe - would be impossible to truly overstate.  And the series brought a chilling sense of realistic urgency to every one of its breathlessly deployed plot twists.  

2018 in Review: These are Not (Necessarily) the Year's Best Films

First, an apology:

I was going to make a heroic effort to see as many acclaimed 2018 films as I possibly could this weekend before attempting to write a 'year's best' post

But then it snowed. A lot. And then Indiana was playing Purdue. And then also I got tired and lazy.

Long story short: life got it the way, as it does.  (That's the whole reason this blog is called PART-TIME Cinephile, after all. The title reflects the fact that while I love watching movies, I also love college basketball, earning my paycheck, singing in choirs, working out, spending time with friends and getting as much sleep as I can manage between those activities.)

So once again, I'm publishing a "Not the Best Films of the Year" list.  It's not that these films aren't really good.... or that I didn't see many films last year. (I've seen 96 of the films released here in 2018 - which is impressive, if still only about half of what a professional critic sees.)  It's that the list represents my personal tastes and inclinations, and excludes a lot of films that I simply wasn't motivated to see (e.g. Avengers Infinity War, You Were Never Really Here, The House That Jack Built, Mission Impossible: Fallout, and Mandy to name just a few that were either too dark or too action-packed for me.)

And it excludes a few well-received films in which I couldn't get sufficiently interested to watch them all the way through (The Other Side of the Wind, Happy as Lazarro, Blockers), as well as some I consider highly overrated (The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, Hereditary, Annihilation, Madeline's Madeline.)

AND it also excludes several films that I really did want to see, but simply ran out of time and/or opportunities for: Widows, Burning, Shoplifters, Free Solo, First Man, Loveless, Foxtrot, Suspiria, At Eternity's Gate. I'm pretty sure I'll see most of these in the next six weeks or so, and then I'll be ready to do a revised list! (But won't...)

One final caveat: to be eligible for this list, a film must have been released in the Chicago area for the first time - via theaters, premium cable, home streaming or region 1 DVD - between 1/1/18 and 12/31/18 inclusive.  This means some 2017 films like The Post and Phantom Thread were considered for this year's list, while a handful of 2018 films that weren't released in Chicago till this January (On the Basis of Sex, Cold War, Capernaum, If Beale Street Could Talk, and Stan and Ollie) will be considered for the 2019 list.

"Well, then," you might ask "What's even left for the actual list?"

A lot of good stuff, as it turns out. Because 2018 was a terrific years for movies, I've not only listed 13 best films (10 wasn't enough), but I follow them up with a pretty hefty list of Honorable Mentions.
Here they are, in reverse order of preference:

13. Wildlife (Paul Dano)

I would have sworn that Wildlife was based on a really good, unfairly neglected novel written by someone along the lines of a John Updike or Richard Yates.  It has the sensibility of a book from the 1950s as it skims through acutely observed details of a marriage unravelling in the midst of a  lonely, sprawling Montana landscape. Surprisingly, though, the story is an original one concocted by Paul Dano and his partner, Zoe Kazan, and that makes it all the more remarkable.  Carey Mulligan gives the best performance you haven't seen this year as a housewife struggling to make the best of her life with a difficult, unambitious man and a sensitive teenaged son.  Every forced smile and carefully calculated response from her lips subtly betrays a world of hurt and disappointment while simultaneously masking those same frustrations.

12. The Tale (Jennifer Fox)

Writer/director Jennifer Fox confronts her own molestation at age 13 by a pair of sophisticated, manipulative adults who convinced her she was having a rapturous consenting relationship.  Her film is lurid and uncomfortable in ways that befit the subject matter. Yet she goes deeper by delving into the unreliability of memory and the way we unconsciously subvert it to protect ourselves from uncomfortable truths. Playing the adult Fox, Laura Dern is never less than fascinating as she comes to grips with her past and the extent to which that past has played havoc with her adult life.  Not an easy film to watch, but certainly a powerful and timely one.

11. Won't You Be My Neighbor (Morgan Neville)

In recent years, my lists have skewed heavily towards films that are upbeat, humane and life-affirming. So I really couldn't NOT include this beautiful documentary tribute to Fred "Mr. Rogers."  What emerges is a portrait of a man so pure in spirit - so kind and decent and good - he almost seems too beautiful for this world.  Through his beloved television program, Rogers brought a message of gentle love and acceptance to millions of children. It was no mere act - it was a mission and a way of life for him.  Try (just try!) to watch this without shedding a few tears.  Oh, to have more people this soft-spoken and compassionate in the public eye these days!


10. The Favourite (Yorgos Lanthimos)

After suffering through the deadpan cruelty of The Killing of a Sacred Deer, I swore I'd never watch another of Yorgos Lanthimos' films. But the rapturous reviews for The Favourite lured me, and I haven't regretted my change of heart at all. Make no mistake: while this film is easily the most mainstream of the director's works, it's still deeply weird and occasionally off-putting, not to mention historically inaccurate. When I arrived for an after-work matinee, a large group of women exiting the previous showing desperately tried to persuade me to see something - anything! - else. (If lesbian sex scenes or the sight of naked men being pelted with overripe fruit makes you uncomfortable, you should probably see something else, too.)  If, however, you're open to Lanthimos' trademark battiness, you can savor a trio of phenomenal performances from Olivia Colman (as a pouty, gouty Queen Anne), Rachel Weisz (her cunning lady-in-waiting) and Emma Stone (a conniving, social-climbing hanger-on). If it's realistic in no other way, the film still feels honest about the limits of any real power given to women in that era (even to a queen) and the kinds of manipulations and charades they had to perform to obtain any real agency in their lives.  From that perspective, it's practically a feminist statement.

9. Thoroughbreds (Cory Finley)

More proof that the creepiest and best horror films are the ones that show us the least gore.  In Thoroughbreds, the bloodiest scene takes place completely out of camera range, while we watch a clueless teenage girl doze off on a sofa in another room. That scene is unaccountably riveting, as is the film as a whole, from its very first frames.  Director Cory Finley masterfully establishes a tense mood and a discomforting atmosphere from the get go - you can't wait to see where the story goes and yet, at the same moment, you're intensely nervous about what happens next. The film opens with a pair of teenage girls studying together - there's something deeply 'off'' about both of them that you can't immediately put your finger on. By the time one girl's insufferable stepfather shows up, you know you're in for a wild ride. Even the house where most of film takes place is disorienting - labyrinthine, with endless rooms leading to other rooms.  It's a neat and neatly disturbing little thriller.

8. Let the Sun Shine In (Claire Denis)

This is a very personal choice for me. Much the same as Juliette Binoche's character here, I did a lot of dating in 2018, and ultimately none of it turned out very well.  And on some of those dates, I wore a pair of black suede high-heeled boots very much like the ones Binoche wears throughout this film. It is oddly comforting to watch a chic, gorgeous Frenchwoman having all the same disappointments and frustrations in her dating life that I've experienced in mine. Late in the film, Gerard Depardieu pops up as a sort of spiritual guru who wisely advises Binoche to savor the good things in her life and not worry so much about when love will find her - advice which goes in one ear and right out the other as she continues to obsess about whether that guy she really likes will come to his senses and return to her.  Without giving you too much information, let's just say that's a thought pattern I understand all too well. Claire Denis' prickly, impressionistic film has won a place on few real critic's 'year's best' lists for other, more scholarly and artistic reasons.  But for me, it will always be the French film version of my year on Match.com.

7. Eighth Grade (Bo Burnham)

I don't know how eighth grade went for you, but I remember it as the most confusing, insecure time of my entire life.  And if Bo Burnham's sweet, painfully amusing film debut is any indication, nothing's changed much over the years. Wide-eyed newcomer Elsie Fisher gives a particularly lovely and sensitive performance as a lonely, awkward pre-teen struggling to fit in and be popular.  Burnham strikes a lovely balance in every scene, never tipping into cheap laughs or maudlin sentiment as he navigates his heroine's bumpy road to self-acceptance. Teen troubles are well-covered territory in film, but Eighth Grade feels remarkably fresh.

6. Paddington 2 (Paul King)

Paddington 2 was always destined for this list, from the first time I saw it (on a flight from Paris to Detroit, where I surreptitiously dabbed at tears several times while watching).  I feel vindicated in my choice by the number of 'year's best' lists from far more erudite critics where Paddington 2 has also appeared.  Like Mr. Rogers, this little Peruvian bear has a kinder heart and a purer spirit than most of the humans around him - sufficient to soften the hearts of some particularly gnarly prison inmates just by introducing them to the life-changing magic of marmalade sandwiches. There is such a welcome sweetness to a film where the stakes are no higher than Paddington's quest to send his beloved Aunt Lucy an antique pop-up picture book of London. When was life ever that simple?  Hugh Grant is on hand in a deliciously flamboyant performance as the villain of the piece - an overbearing, over-dressed has-been actor with an ego as big as his wardrobe. Characters like this keep the film from becoming overly saccharine and make it as appealing to adults as it is to children.

5. Phantom Thread (Paul Thomas Anderson)

I don't just watch this film - I luxuriate in it.  It's big and gorgeous, with a lush, romantic musical score... and a few distinctly creepy plot twists involving lightly poisoned mushrooms being fed to a cranky man to keep him in line.  P.T. Anderson borrows heavily from both Alfred Hitchcock and David Lean for this strange romance between a fussy fashion designer (whose life is carefully managed by his icy, controlling sister) and the deceptively mild, mouse-like woman he falls for.  Sure the cinematography and clothes are gorgeous and the actors are great. (It's Daniel Day-Lewis, for Pete's sake!) But it's the weird and twisty parts that make Phantom Thread such a irresistible cinematic treat.

4. Can You Ever Forgive Me? (Marielle Heller)

There was a lot more to this movie than I expected, and it's haunted me ever since I saw it. I was not surprised that Melissa McCarthy gave an outstanding dramatic performance; the level of commitment and specificity she brings to comic roles has always indicated she's a genuinely gifted actress. And the true-crime aspect of the film was bound to be, at the very least, intriguing. (McCarthy plays real-life writer Lee Israel who forged and sold letters from the likes of Dorothy Parker and Noel Coward to make ends meet when her career as a biographer petered out.) But director Marielle Heller infuses the film with a palpable sense of melancholy in everything from the low-lit bars that Lee and her drinking buddy (Richard E. Grant) frequent to the perfectly curated, jazz-inflected musical soundtrack.  From start to finish, it's a sad valentine to the end of an era in New York: a time when books and writers truly mattered and it was possible to live in shabby-genteel poverty on Manhattan's Upper West Side. Grant and McCarthy are wonderful together, their characters sharing both a closeted, queer identity and outrageously caustic personalities designed to mask their vulnerability and loneliness. It's part character study and part tone poem with just a hint of a heist film mentality - an enormously satisfying combination.

3. The Death of Stalin (Armando Iannucci)

You've heard of cringe comedy?  Well, Armando Iannucci is the master of 'gasp comedy' - rapid-fire comic patter so fast and so mean that you can barely process it or even croak out a proper laugh in the wake of its farcical nastiness. But even if you've watched one of Iannucci's television shows (Veep or one of his British series The Thick of It.), you won't be prepared for the undercurrent of true horror in this very black political comedy.  This time, the history is true (mostly) and the stakes are real; you can hear people pleading for their lives and/or being shot just off camera even while breathlessly funny bureaucratic squabbles play out before your eyes.  It takes a particularly masterful director to get that balance right - Iannucci is up to the task. With Stalin on his deathbed, the politburo goes mad, each man jockeying for position and power in the new government to come. Kruschev (Steve Buscemi), Beria (Simon Russell Beale) and Malenkov (Jeffrey Tambor) rush to build alliances and kiss up to Stalin's daughter (a superb Andrea Riseborough). What follows is both antic and terrifying, and the actors (particularly Beale and Buscemi) are just about perfect.

2. Roma (Alfonso Cuaron)

I don't think you'll find a more beautifully photographed film on any screen this year. Cuaron's remembrance of his own, privileged Mexico City upbringing - and the woman who worked and cared for his family - is a masterpiece of dualities. It references a number of European classics by the likes of Fellini and Renoir while still remaining a highly personal and heartfelt work.  It has an epic sweep and yet it is rich in domestic and emotional detail. A great and lovely film, with a beautiful lead performance by Yalitza Aparicio, it is a film I intend to come back to many times in the months to come.


1. First Reformed (Paul Schrader)

I'm going to come right out and say it: this isn't a film for everyone, or even for most people.  Sure it's won its share of critical acclaim this year, but that's largely from people who've seen and studied the two European films on which it's directly based (Robert Bresson's Diary of a Country Priest and Ingmar Bergman's Winter Light). It's austere and formal, deliberate in its pacing and sometimes downright bizarre.  But if you're inclined to give it a chance - and willing to embrace its slow rhythms and intellectual challenges - you may find yourself richly rewarded.  Ethan Hawke plays the pastor of a small, sparsely attended church. He struggles with his own faith and health  - as well as interference from a larger, more financially sound congregation - while attempting to counsel a depressed congregant and his pregnant wife. Writer/director Paul Schrader (who himself grew up in a Calvinist sect that prohibited going to movies) seriously confronts questions about our responsibilities to God and one another; his film is brutal and phantasmagorical by turns. Personally, I found its seriousness of purpose and its intellectual depth to be refreshingly welcome in a time when few films have any real ideas. It has stayed vividly in my memory since the day I first watched it.  As a blogger friend of mine (who was himself a small-town pastor) used to say "Your mileage may vary."  But if you decide to watch First Reformed, I would love to hear your thoughts.

2018 Honorable Mention*:  Black KKKLansman, Tully, Searching, Mary Poppins Returns, Shirkers, In the Fade, Private Life, Support the Girls, Green Book, Film Worker, A Star is Born, They'll Love Me When I'm Dead, God's Own Country, Collette.

*the original Honorable Mentions list has been amended to include two films that were egregiously overlooked in the original post: Spike Lee's excellent Black KKKlansman and Jason Reitman's Tully. My apologies!

2018 in Review: A Dozen Wonderful Things on TV This Year!

It's been a pretty quiet year here at Part-Time Cinephile. When last I posted here, I shared my terribly important thoughts about the 2018 Oscars.  That was in February.  And my predictions of the winners were 100% accurate.

Normally, this post would be about the best binge-watching of the year. But in 2018, I wasn't much into binging on TV. Even so, I did see some delightful things on the small screen, and they're worth writing about.  It will come as no surprise to my regular readers that this is a highly personal, somewhat idiosyncratic list. It reflects my personal tastes and skews heavily towards music, comedy, and happy, uplifting fare. Take it with a grain of salt - but if you find something on this list that piques your interest, watch it and enjoy it, then my work here is done!

Here are twelve wonderful things I found on TV this year, in alphabetical order:

1. Crazy Ex-Girlfriend: Trapped in a Car With Someone You Don't Want to be Trapped in a Car With (The CW)



The final season has been uneven at best, but it's delivered one absolutely perfect song parody. In less than four minutes, "Trapped in a Car..." lampoons the entire trajectory of the Beach Boys' careers - from their surfer anthem days to the experimentation of "Pet Sounds" to the easy listening dreck of "Kokomo." Nothing I write here will do justice to its brilliance - just click on this clip and hear it for yourself.

2. Forever (Amazon)

A quirky and imaginative take on the meaning of a lifelong commitment - and then some. SNL alums Fred Armisen and Maya Rudolph play a long-married couple whose lives have become stale and predictable. The ski trip they take to shake things up is only the first in a series of mystical events that lead them back to their original passion for each other. There are two completely unforeseeable, gut-punch plot twists within the first two episodes, and it only gets loonier and more crazily inventive from that point on - not to mention heartbreaking and sometimes genuinely profound. Trust me, the less you know going in, the better. I actually did binge this one; at just eight short episodes, it can easily be devoured in the course of one snowy weekend. And it's far more substantial than you'd expect at first glance.

3. Jesus Christ Superstar Live (NBC)

I've not found the resurrection of live television musicals to be very satisfying so far. Productions of The Sound of Music, Grease, Peter Pan and Hairspray have run the gamut from underwhelming to excruciating.  But with Superstar, directors David Leveaux and Alex Rudzinski got it just right. Filmed in an arena setting with a live audience, it had an energy, a confidence and a clear directorial vision that's been sorely lacking in the previously mentioned productions. Norm Lewis' Judas was the show's VIP, though Sara Bareilles gave us a soulful Mary Magdalene, and John Legend's singing in the title role ultimately compensated for his limited acting chops.  Alice Cooper's cameo as Herod seemed more exciting than it actually was, an inspired piece of casting that didn't quite coalesce in the actual performance.  But that's a nitpick; this was an impeccably produced and executed show: thrilling, emotional, and a perfect choice for its Easter Sunday airdate.

4. John Mulaney: Kid Gorgeous at Radio City (Netflix)

In his third stand-up special for Netflix, the former SNL writer hit it out of the park.  He gets plenty of mileage and laughs from the kind of anecdotal humor that is his trademark (stories about his upper-middle class Catholic upbringing; outrageous statements from his gruff, conservative father; musings about getting older and becoming a bona fide adult). But his greatest moment is this analogy for the Trump presidency, which he develops to pitch-perfect hilarity:
   "It’s like there’s a horse loose in a hospital! I think eventually everything’s going to be okay, but I       have no idea what’s going to happen next. And neither do any of you, and neither do your parents.    Because there's a horse loose in the hospital!!
I watch a lot of Netflix stand-up specials - and there were good ones this year from Jim Gaffigan, Ellen DeGeneres, Chris Rock and Russell Brand, among others. Hannah Gadsby's justly praised Nanette was a near-miss for this list. But Mulaney's Radio City special is the one I go back to, repeatedly, when I need a really good laugh. 


5. The Late Show with Stephen Colbert - opening monologues (CBS)

How you feel about this choice is probably dependent on your politics.  For me, Colbert's relentless mocking and skewering of the man in the White House was my nightly sanity check in a world gone mad. Though I miss the early days of the show when Colbert sometimes got more serious and linked his scathing comments to his own religious convictions, I'll still revel in his gleeful Trump takedowns anytime. 

6. Live from Lincoln Center: Stars in Concert (PBS)

Over a series of four summer Friday nights, these Broadway stars (Leslie Odom Jr, Andrew Rannells, Sutton Foster, Stephanie J. Bloch) performed intimate, immensely enjoyable one-hour sets against a backdrop of New York itself - the lights and traffic on Broadway, seen though an enormous window behind the small stage.  To my recollection, no one performed any of their own show-stopping hits (although Rannells memorably rocked out with his standard audition number - Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run"). But all were personable and funny, sharing and singing music that mattered to them and musing on their youthful hopes and sometimes rough roads to Broadway acclaim.  The superbly produced specials captured the feeling of really being there for the viewer at home, making for a quartet of highly enjoyable evenings.

7. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, Season 2 (Amazon)

The clothes! The apartments! The glamour! The stunning location shoots in Paris and the Catskills!(no I'm not kidding about that last one!) The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel has the most gorgeous production design of maybe any television show in history.  But eye candy alone doesn't land a show on my list.  In its second season, Mrs. Maisel took its indefatigable heroine further along in her journey towards stand-up comedy stardom, with some meaningful reflection on both what it costs her personally and the privileged bubble in which she's been living vs. the scruffier, harder world she's now going to have to deal with. Showrunner Amy Sherman-Palladino delivered even more smart, rapid-fire repartee, plus a collection of impressively choreographed scenes of hectic activity that will leave you dizzy.  It's not just the best-looking show on streaming  - it's very likely the smartest and best-acted as well. Kudos especially to Rachel Brosnahan, Tony Shalhoub and Alex Borstein this season. I can't wait to see where these characters go next.

8. Mom, Season 6 (CBS)

Over six seasons, Mom has evolved from an enjoyable but uneven two-hander (Allison Janney and Anna Faris as a mother-daughter pair of recovering alcoholics) into a female-driven ensemble comedy with reliable laughs and genuine emotional insights.  It's consistently true and respectful to the challenges of sobriety and creating a new life without abandoning its mainstream sitcom sensibility, and I think that achievement isn't sufficiently valued. With expanded roles for Mimi Kennedy, Jaime Pressley and Beth Hall - plus the addition of Wiliam Fichtner as Janney's fiancée - the show has gotten better every season, nicely balancing all characters' story arcs with sensitivity and humor. In season 6, the cast expanded again to include the outrageously funny Kristen Johnson as Janney's long-lost stepsister -- fresh out of prison and looking for a new, sober start.  Johnson is a larger-than-life performer who could easily suck all the air out of the room, but it's a tribute to the show's well-honed and infinitely generous cast of actors that she fits right into the ensemble, earning her big laughs, but outshining no one.  This show is my Thursday night feel-good fix. If you haven't discovered it yet, you should.

9. The Romanoffs (Amazon)

Like many Mad Men fans, I'd been anxiously awaiting Matt Weiner's next show (though still secretly wishing he'd done a series with Sally and Bobby Draper as adults.). Instead, he gave us this gorgeous, expensively produced anthology series in which every story contains at least one character who is a descendant of the Romanoff dynasty, Russia's last ruling family.  Filmed in glamourous locations around the world with a distinguished international cast, its episodes are intricately plotted, smartly written, and beautifully acted.  Well, Ok, there are a couple of duds near the middle. (Particularly insufferable is a chapter in which Andrew Rannells plays a piano teacher accused - perhaps falsely - of pedophilia.  This is clearly Weiner's answer to his own accusers in the #metoo movement, and it plays very badly).  Breeze past that episode, and enjoy the remaining very good ones.  The best of the lot is pictured above. Kathryn Hahn and Jay Ferguson play a couple adopting a baby girl from a Russian orphanage; the episode plays like a dark comedy of innocents abroad as the two navigate a strange, cold, confusing landscape of bureaucrats, unheated hotel rooms, and unsmiling clerks. But it evolves into a complex drama of marital discord - with one particularly brutal scene in which the entire foundation of their marriage comes perilously close to dissolving - before finding its way back to a (partly) happy ending.


10. SNL - The Kavanaugh Hearing cold open with Matt Damon



The best sketch SNL has done in years - and that's from someone who believes the show is still approximately as funny as it was in 1976. Two days after Brett Kavanaugh's infuriating, appalling appearance before the Senate to answer allegations of sexual assault, SNL managed to perfectly encapsulate the entire experience in a 10-minute sketch that both entertained and - dare I say it - healed us. Matt Damon dropped by to play a spectacularly pissed-off/entitled Kavanaugh (though, honestly, only a few minor tweaks away from the real thing) and the regular cast portrayed the key senators to delirious effect. (Kate McKinnon's apoplectic Lindsey Graham was a highlight.) The sketch nails every single absurdity in the actual hearing, while being so funny that even people who think Kavanaugh was innocent laughed out loud.

11. A Very English Scandal (Amazon)

The middle-aged resurgence of Hugh Grant continues - impressively - under the direction of Stephen Frears, who also gave Grant his best role in years with 2016's Florence Foster Jenkins.  In this tragi-comic British mini-series, Grant plays the real-life disgraced politician Jeremy Thorpe - accused, but not ultimately convicted, of hiring a hit man to murder a former male lover who threatens to expose their affair.  The series hums along with a darkly comic energy, but it's also thoughtful and honest about Thorpe's complex dilemma: he's a deeply closeted gay man who comes to political prominence in a time when homosexuality was a criminal offense in Britain. By the time his aggrieved former lover (an emotionally volatile but sympathetic Ben Whishaw) comes forward in the late 70s, the world is a changed place. The series depicts its events as the last gasp of Establishment respectability prevailing in a newly open and permissive society, giving it a gravitas that belies its swinging, insouciant tone.  Both Grant and Whishaw deliver exceptional, complex performances.

12. The Wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle (pretty much everywhere!)

Because, honestly - can you even think of a lovelier, happier event on our screens this year?  An English prince married a bi-racial American divorcee and the whole world tuned in to cheer for them. A gospel choir sang "Stand By Me" in Windsor Chapel and an African-American clergyman preached passionately about the power of love, while Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall, chortled in obvious enjoyment and Zara Tindall (Princess Anne's daughter) gave them all a stunningly frosty side-eye.  Who would have thought that the British royal family (most of them, anyway) would be our guiding light for diversity and tolerance in the 21st century?  I cried more tears of joy watching this wedding on television than I have at any nuptials I've attended in person for people I actually know - and I'm not ashamed of that. Sometimes we all need a feel-good event like this to rally around and give us hope.

The Oscars - 2018 Edition: The Good, the Bad, the Undeserving and the Overlooked

This is the post I almost didn't write.

Because if you thought I was bored and apathetic about the Oscars last year, you have no idea how uninterested I was this time around.

My enthusiasm for the 2018 award season quickly began to wane about the time that Three Billboards Outside Ebbing Missouri swept the Golden Globes. When it subsequently picked up an armload of Screen Actor's Guild awards, my growing apathy morphed into rage.  By the time of its stellar showing at the BAFTAs (Britsh Academy Awards) I had progressed to outright stupefaction.

Every year has its share of overrated critical darlings whose appeal I cannot begin to fathom, but Three Billboards outstrips them all.  Where so many others apparently saw a modern masterpiece, I saw a muddleheaded, mean-spirited, pointlessly sadistic screed containing not one iota of truth or genuine insight.  And I've worshipped Frances McDormand for most of my adult life, but I swear if I see her unsmiling, make-up free face behind one more awards podium, I'm going to pitch a fit so loud the folks at the Kodak Theater will stop applauding, cock their heads and ask each other "Did you hear that fit being pitched? It sounded like it was coming from Chicago!"

Three Billboards aside, I also find I am intensely weary of the self-imposed pressure to see every major Oscar nominee before the ceremony.  And this year, I gave up the fight. As I write this, I still have not seen The Post or All the Money in the World - let alone most of the Best Documentary, Foreign Language or Feature-Length Animated films on the Oscar Ballot.  But before we get to my terribly important thoughts about what should win, what shouldn't win, and who got unfairly overlooked for a chance at Oscar glory... let's talk about this year's host.

For years now, I've been carping about the Academy's inability to find a master of ceremonies who sets the right tone for the evening.  They've cycled through everyone from James Franco to Ellen DeGeneres, but they finally found the right man. I'm very pleased that Jimmy Kimmel will be returning as emcee this year; he strikes exactly the right balance between pointed, topical comedy and low-key, light-hearted mischief.  Now if only the Academy would pick the right nominees and winners!

Best Supporting Actress

Will win:  Allison Janney for I, Tonya

I love Allison Janney, I really do. I will watch anything this woman acts in, primarily because she is in it. I even cheered when she accepted a BAFTA award while wearing a bizarre gown that made her look like a giant space alien. (I'm not kidding about that - Google it and see for yourself.) But in all honesty, this is not the best supporting female performance of the year. Janney nails the character's coldness and anger alright, but it's a fairly one-note take on Tonya Harding's monstrous mother. And frankly, it's the kind of role she could do in her sleep.

Should win: Laurie Metcalf for Lady Bird

Metcalfe's take on stressed, imperfect motherhood was lovely, rich in nuance and brilliantly rendered emotional detail.  The actress, at 62, has been enjoying a bit of a late-career renaissance, starting with her Tony Award last year for A Doll's' House, Part Two. An Oscar would be a perfect, well-deserved companion for that Tony.  She's recently emerged as a dark-horse possibility for taking this category from Janney, so the idea is not entirely far-fetched.


Overlooked: Michelle Pfeiffer for mother!

Pfeiffer swaggered into the middle of a difficult, enigmatic and divisive film, providing a bracing shot of much-needed comic relief.  The film was always better when she was onscreen. There's no better recommendation for an Oscar nomination, and Pfeiffer certainly deserved one.

Also overlooked:  Vicky Krieps for Phantom Thread -  She more than held her own against old pros Daniel Day-Lewis and Lesley Manville. And, like them, she deserved a nomination.



Best Supporting Actor

Will win: Sam Rockwell for Three Billboards Outside Ebbing Missouri

I like Rockwell, and I'll admit he made a pretty interesting meal out of this film's most problematic character.  So I'm actually kind of OK with him taking this trophy - although I wish to God it had been for a better movie.

Should Win: Willem Dafoe for The Florida Project

People tend to think of Dafoe as the guy who plays creepy or bizarre characters, but niceness and restraint are also qualities in his wheelhouse. (After all, he's played both Jesus and T.S. Eliot). As the motel manager working on the tawdry edge of Orlando, Dafoe comes off so authentically torn between frustration and compassion towards his residents that he doesn't seem to be acting at all. You forget you're looking at Dafoe and just see a man who tries to be fair to his residents and look out for their neglected kids.  He's the quiet soul of a fine film.

Overlooked: Armie Hammer for Call Me By Your Name

I'm not quite sure how Hammer has been so overlooked in the slew of awards nominations for this film.  His Oliver is the perfect match to Timothee Chalamet's justly praised Elio in this emotionally charged romance.  Just his dorky dance moves alone are award-worthy.

Also overlooked: Adam Sandler and Ben Stiller for The Meyerowitz Stories (New and Collected) - Two stunning performances by these actors playing estranged brothers.  Each has an electrifyingly good monologue and many great scenes.  I'd have expected as much from Stiller, but Sandler's work is revelatory.

Best Actress

Will win: Frances McDormand in Three Billboards Outside Ebbing Missouri

Oh, dear. I worship McDormand and can name at least three other films I'd loved to have seen her get an Oscar for (in addition the one she deservedly won for Fargo.).  But I just can't get past how much I hate this film in general, and her character in particular.  So I can't rejoice about this, but it's a foregone conclusion.


Should win: Sally Hawkins for The Shape of Water

Hawkins' performance was so beautiful, sweet but not cloyingly so.  Her character had a refreshing grit and stubbornness. The scene where she tells her friend - without words -- why the sea monster's love meant so much to her was the most emotionally devastating piece of acting I saw all year.  Also, this would be a welcome corrective to the academy's unforgiveable snub of her performance in Happy Go Lucky in 2009.

Overlooked: Diane Kruger for In the Fade

Forget McDormand's Mildred Hayes.  If you want to see the best, most devastating portrayal of a grieving, vengeful woman look to the German film In the Fade and the riveting performance of Diane Kruger.  Kruger won the Best Actress award at Cannes; I can only assume her absence from most awards slates this year is due to the fact that In the Fade has not yet opened wide in the U.S. It's a devastating, harrowing film, and Kruger's performance is one for the ages.


Also overlooked: Cynthia Nixon for A Quiet Passion - Her take on the poet Emily Dickinson delved into deep emotional corners of anguish and frustration.

Best Actor

Will - and probably should- win: Gary Oldman for Darkest Hour

Darkest Hour doesn't really amount to much, but Oldman's Winston Churchill is wonderful.  Consider the Oscar he's certainly going to win as a very well-deserved lifetime achievement award. The emotion in his eyes behind all that old-Churchill makeup is the whole show here.

But I wish we could give one last Oscar to Daniel Day-Lewis for Phantom Thread

If this really is his last film, that's a damn shame. Phantom Thread is a gorgeous film that celebrates the fine art of acting in stillness and nuance.  Day-Lewis communicates more with an artfully arched eyebrow or a fleeting glance than most actors do with a whole, scenery-chewing cathartic monologue.  I know he already has three Oscars, but this was his last chance....

Overlooked? No one, really.... I'm pretty happy with this category as is. (Although I suspect if I'd gotten around to seeing The Post, I'd be filling the space with my annual rant about Why Tom Hanks is a Better Actor than the Academy Thinks He Is.)

Best Director

Will win: Guillermo del Toro for The Shape of Water

Del Toro is pretty much a shoo-in here, having won every other Best Director trophy on the planet this season.  It's not undeserved either.  The Shape of Water is beautifully crafted fairy tale for adults and it's a stunning achievement. But...

My heart is with Paul Thomas Anderson for Phantom Thread

Phantom Thread is a bit too slow, stately (and, ultimately, creepy) to be to everyone's taste.  But I loved it - luxuriated in it, even.  If you look at the trajectory of Anderson's  career - from early, messy epics like Hard Eight, Boogie Nights and Magnolia to the level of craft he's achieved in The Master or There Will Be Blood - his growth as an artist is truly stunning. Phantom Thread is the work of an artist in full command of his powers. Sadly though, it's not likely to win much on Oscar night except Best Costume Design (of course!) ...and maybe (hopefully?) a Best Original Score trophy for Johnny Greenwood.

Overlooked?  How about an Honorable Mention to Joe Wright for Darkest Hour?

Oh sure, I could make a case for Luca Guadagnino and Call Me By Your Name (which is up for Best Picture) or Dee Rees for Mudbound (which isn't - more on that later). But apart from Oldman's performance, I think the whole reason Darkest Hour got a Best Picture nod is Joe Wright's inspired direction. The script is awful, really, and most other directors would have delivered a stillborn, stodgy snoozefest.  But Wright finds a stunning visual style and utilizes fluid, urgent camera movement to ratchet up the drama - and it just about works.  And while we're at it, let us remember that in 2007's Atonement, Wright managed to evoke the entire Dunkirk experience in one spectacular 5-minute tracking shot. Take that, Best Director nominee Christopher Nolan!

Best Picture

Will win ( probably?....) The Shape of Water

I say 'probably?" because - although The Shape of Water has been the odds-on favorite in this category for weeks - there has been some late-breaking groundswell for both Three Billboards and Get Out.  I can't bear to think of the former film winning, and I can't wrap my mind around how the latter one even got into this category. (I've seen Get Out twice now; I liked it and thought it was a solid debut for Jordan Peele, but also significantly flawed. It will be interesting to see how it's regarded five or ten years from now.)  Anyway, I won't be disappointed if Shape takes the top prize - it's certainly deserving.

But... again, my heart is with Phantom Thread

Because the happiest two-and-a-half hours I spent in a movie theater this year was watching this. As previously noted, I still haven't seen The Post.  But I would rank the other 8 nominees in this order: 1. Phantom Thread; 2. The Shape of Water; 3. Lady Bird; 4. Call Me By Your Name; 5. Dunkirk; 6. Get Out; 7. Darkest Hour; 8 and a Distant Dead Last. Three Billboards Outside Ebbing Missouri.  

Overlooked: Mudbound

I guess it's encouraging that this straight-to-Netflix release got any nominations (for Supporting Actress, Adapted Screenplay, Cinematography, and Song). Oscar voters have been slow to embrace films distributed through home streaming channels, and I suspect that if Mudbound had been a theatrical release, it might have knocked Darkest Hour off the Best Picture roster. The story of two Southern families - one black and poor, one white and poor ( and there's a difference between what poor means for each family) - it's emotionally gripping and  effectively subtle in rendering the details of an ingrained, unconscious racism practiced even by the most well-intentioned characters. There is a particularly horrific sequence late in the film, but it doesn't feel forced or exploitative - only sadly inevitable. It's downbeat but honest, offering no easy solutions or breakthrough moments for any of its characters.  Director Dee Rees does skillful, masterful work; as noted above, she deserved a Best Director nomination.