TV Talk: Twitter

Standard
It's a bird! Get it? TWITTER? Eh. Everyone's a critic.

It’s a bird! Get it? TWITTER? Eh. Everyone’s a critic.

Nope, it’s not the name of a show you’re missing. Though for any TV execs in the room, have I got a pitch for you!

Twitter is an amazing tool. It can bring you news before it’s news; it can instantly link you to people with similar interests; it can act as a source of endless amusement with various hashtag games. It can even bring love, as two of my friends found.

(What’s that, hypothetical reader? Did I maybe nudge them in the direction of magic? Why yes, yes I did, funny you should ask).

But my favorite use of Twitter is television.

You might have noticed that if you’re following me on Twitter. I’m currently live-tweeting five days a week — at least when I’m home to do it — and TV has never been so much fun.

From reality shows like Real Housewives of etc. and Below Deck random flavors to my science-fiction staples of “12 Monkeys” and “Orphan Black;” fantasy newcomer “Wynonna Earp” and soapy satire “UnReal,” I hunker down in front of my keyboard, mind my hashtags and tweet away.

Some shows are much easier to live-tweet than others. “Real Housewives of New York” (RHONY for those in the know) doesn’t really require eyes on the screen. With “12 Monkeys,” looking away for a second is impossible.

Still, no matter where you are in the world, you are suddenly at a viewing party, and the best thing is you don’t even have to share your snacks. Everyone has opinions, from the super-snarky to the truly insightful, and everyone’s invited.

A little hesitant about the idea of live-tweeting? Don’t be! If it’s too much to tweet while you’re watching, you can always wait for commercials. Be interactive, read and respond to other tweets, retweet the ones that tickle you and reciprocate when someone does the same with yours.

Easy-peasy.

And just so much fun. The best part? You can support your favorite shows, as well. A strong Twitter fan base probably helped to rescue “Nashville” from the great TV beyond.

So see? You’re not only having fun on Twitter. You’re helping.

Check out  my full-length novels,  Her Cousin Much Removed,  The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management and Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only), and the sequel, Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) which is now available!

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

 Sign up for my spamless newsletter!

Advertisement

Technology and Monday have it in for me

Standard

not working tvSo with Jane Storegoer shifted to Fridays, Monday is now open when it comes to blog topics. And by “open” I mean I’ve been staring at the blank “Add a New Post” screen and listening to the wind rattle my blinds.

Once again, I’ve got my cable service on my mind. And once again, I don’t have any in the bedroom. And once again, I am surprised by how much it’s bothering me. And once again, I am wondering if there is a message from the universe I’ m missing or refusing to hear.

To add to that, I’ve just received a cancellation confirmation from TiVo. If you recall, I cancelled my TiVo service a week ago. Why is it only going through now? Your guess is as good as mine, but given that they never actually cancelled service I canceled in 2014, let’s hope we are good and finished with one another. In fact it said the cancellation request was at 12 midnight. Who knows why. Let’s hope no credit cards were charged in the making of this cancellation, and keep eyes on all statements.

I guess it’s got me thinking about how we don’t notice things that work while they’re working, but when they go awry — no matter how small the real impact on our lives and the planet — it can seem impossible to get everything ticking and humming again.

Is it just a failure of fortitude? Are there take-it-in-stride people who don’t see these life aggravations as aggravations?

Is this situation as annoying as I think it is?

I mean the RCN tech people are nice and all, but I don’t want to have them to breakfast every week.

Oh well, as I said on Twitter, at least it meant revisiting a manuscript that has been in a state of stagnation for a while. And maybe that’s universe’s point. Manuscripts good.

TV bad.

Who knows. Either way, I’m buying insurance for the robot uprising. I’m almost positive my TV service is the first wave.

Check out  my full-length novels,  Her Cousin Much Removed,  The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management and Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only), and the sequel, Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) which is now available!

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

 Sign up for my spamless newsletter!

TV Talk: 12 Monkeys

Standard

As usual for TV Talk, no spoilers!

If you follow me on Twitter (what? You don’t? Heresy!), you’ve probably noticed my, uhmm, somewhat fanatical devotion to the SyFy time-travel show “12 Monkeys.” It’s a writers’ show, and if you enjoy fully-realized thoughtful writing, you should be watching it.

What’s that, hypothetical reader? You remember a movie by that same name many years ago? Yes, the series is actually based on the movie, but it is so very much more than that. Get your rain ponchos and umbrellas ready, because I’m about to gush.

Hmm, hypothetical reader? And galoshes? Yes, they’d probably be wise.

With the advent of streaming services, and the tendency of outlets like Netflix to release a whole season of a show at once, the very fabric of television has changed. Now, instead of episodic shows which couldn’t rely on a viewer consistently watching every single week without fail, television has switched places with movies to become the long-form of visual storytelling.

With a show like “12 Monkeys,” — like many of the Netflix, Amazon and Hulu shows — writers now usually have  about 12 or 13 episodes, totaling anywhere from 9 to 13 hours, to plot an arc. Compare that to a movie’s 2-3 hours. The opportunity for nuance of character alone is incredible, let alone intricacies of plot.

And the plotting is intricate. Astoundingly intricate. Here’s the thing with writing about time: it’s hard. Time is complicated, as I discovered when writing my own novel dealing with it. And there is an enormous temptation to cheat, because cheating is so much easier than unpicking the consequences of your knotted-up plots.

(That actually sounds like a pretty good assessment of life in general, but I digress).

“12 Monkeys” never cheats. Like all well-done science-fiction, it creates its rules and it stands by them resolutely. And yet it manages to surprise me minute by minute.

That’s not easy to do.

It takes up every inch of the space it’s allotted, and the finished product, thanks to the writers, directors, the cast, the crew and showrunner Terry Matalas, is breathtaking.

It also has one of my absolute favorite genius nut jobs on television, Jennifer Goines, played the insanely (ha!) talented Emily Hampshire. Anyone who’s been around here knows I’m pretty partial to genius nut jobs.

All that aside, it’s just plain fun to watch. And tweet; the cast and crew are always active on twitter, constantly interacting with fans, which makes live-tweeting one big time-travely party.

Have a great binge this weekend (once you start, you won’t be able to stop) and come hang out on Monday, at 9/8c!

Yes, hypothetical reader, it’s now safe to remove your rain gear. What’s that? Stop talking to you because you’re trying to watch?

Very wise, hypothetical reader. Very wise indeed.

Check out  my full-length novels,  Her Cousin Much Removed,  The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management and Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only), and the sequel, Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) which is now available!

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

 Sign up for my spamless newsletter!

TV Talk: Lady Dynamite

Standard

No spoilers! I promise. So if you haven’t yet started the incredible “Lady Dynamite,” or you’re only a few episodes in, no fear.

Thank you, Netflix, for the gift of “Lady Dynamite,” because this show would not and could not have found a home anywhere else. With major broadcaster CBS passing on “Nancy Drew” for being “too female,” and then ABC  axing the two female leads of “Castle” before ultimately cancelling it, mainstream broadcasting doesn’t seem like a happy home for women-driven shows.

And this show is complete in it’s uniqueness. But before I wax poetic on the art of this show — and I’ve got my poetry wax standing by and ready to buff — this show is great comedy. It’s steeped with genuine, clever humor and shouldn’t be missed for that reason alone.

But it is so much more than that.

About a fictionalized (?) version of comedian Maria Bamford, played by the actual comedian, Maria Bamford, this show is layered art. While you can watch it purely for the tart, satisfying comedy, you can tell, watching the first time, that a rewatch will yield even more.

Bamford has Bipolar II disorder, and the show explores the impact of that diagnosis on her life. And here’s its brilliance: it does it in a surreal way, leaving you pondering what is and isn’t real, what did and didn’t happen. This feeling expands in a meta direction, because you can’t help wondering, after watching, how much of it reflects Bamford’s journey.

And you just can’t know for sure. Giving those of us without experience with Bipolar 2 insight into what it’s like to live with the disorder, which can cause hallucinations.

As I said. It’s genius.

Yet it’s utterly relatable for anyone who has had trouble navigating the grown-up world of life. Which is pretty much everyone.

Netflix took a huge risk with this show, because it’s not like anything else. And just as I love it so much I want to make it wear doll clothes and have pretend tea with me every day, no doubt there are people who will have a visceral negative reaction.

There is nothing middle-of-the-road about it. Very little television strides boldly in the direction of its conviction; many things get watered down to appeal to as wide a swath as demographics will allow.

Not “Lady Dynamite.” It is entirely itself as television can be, and it’s beautiful.

In or near Chicago? Check out our sketch comedy revue, Me Inside Me Presents: “Neurotrash.” Saturdays at 10 pm, May 7, 14, 21 & 28 in Donny’s Skybox Theater. Tickets $13; Students $11 SCTC Students: $7  Click here for tickets.

Check out  my full-length novels,  Her Cousin Much Removed,  The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management and Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only), and the sequel, Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) which is now available!

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

 Sign up for my spamless newsletter!

 

TV Talk: Orphan Black

Standard


If you follow me on twitter (wait, you don’t follow me on twitter? Why wouldn’t you follow me on twitter?! Just hit the little “follow me” thingy over there on the sidebar. It’s OK, we’ll wait. Done? Awesome.) you might notice that I like to live tweet TV. A lot.

And yet I rarely talk about TV here. I’m not sure why that is; I tend to focus on writing and books and whatever weird things pop into my head. So I’ve decided to add a new feature with TV Talk. Will it be a regular one? We’ll see.

Anyway, tonight is a new episode of “Orphan Black,” one of the best shows currently on television. You’ll note I didn’t say “sci-fi shows.”

There’s no question it’s sci-fi, as it explores the moral and ethical implications of cloning technology. The thing is, though, that sci-fi tends to be shoved into a little box of genre, and all the art of it becomes eclipsed by the execution of big ideas.

Between its taut writing and phenomenal acting — seriously, Tatiana Maslany is so incredible, it’s difficult, mentally, to keep track of the fact that she is just one person — “Orphan Black” is in an elite category of shows redefining the boundaries of television. Suddenly television is the long-form of storytelling, and “Orphan Black” takes full advantage (as does “12 Monkeys,” but we’ll talk about that one later).

It’s innovative, completely captivating, and populated with a uniquely talented cast, but yet when the Emmys rolled around, it was ignored. Why?

Back to genre.

Nothing reflects us to ourselves quite like science-fiction. We can imagine where we’re going if we keep heading in a direction; we can imagine what will happen if we don’t. We can take social issues out of their sensitive context, and give them a fresh, non-confrontational setting.

The truth can be found in sci-fi, as it always was. Even Ray Bradbury fell victim to the  science-fiction branding; people rarely talk about the crystalline, effortless nature of his prose. Rather, they focus on the brilliant images that prose creates in their minds.

Telling a story vividly, excitingly while giving a glimpse of things possibly to come shouldn’t lessen its artistic value.

It should add to it.

P.S. You may notice I didn’t give a whole lot of details on the show itself; I’m very anti-spoiler. Watch it! Let me know what you think, if you agree with my assessment, or if you think I’m totally off-base.

In or near Chicago? Check out our sketch comedy revue, Me Inside Me Presents: “Neurotrash.” Saturdays at 10 pm, May 7, 14, 21 & 28 in Donny’s Skybox Theater. Tickets $13; Students $11 SCTC Students: $7  Click here for tickets.

Want to know what happens to Jane Storegoer before everyone else? Sign up for my spamless newsletter, and get new episodes in your inbox on Fridays!

Check out  my full-length novels,  Her Cousin Much Removed,  The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management and Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only), and the sequel, Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) which is now available!

And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

 

‘Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt’ and Netflix World Domination

Standard

If you haven’t seen it yet, you absolutely, positively must watch “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt,” Netflix’s newest original gem. It is bright, it is funny, and it is infused with a bubbling hope that we can all use in our lives.

Briefly, (and as I typed ‘briefly,” I realized how insane the rest of this sentence is going to sound), Kimmy is one of a group of women held in an underground bunker for fifteen years, and when she gets free, she decides to start a new life in New York. Starring Ellie Kemper, Tituss Burgess, Carol Kane (!) and Jane Krakowski, the incredible cast is only a fraction of what makes this show amazing. It’s also co-created by Tina Fey, so, you know, it’s got the hilarity baked right in.

While not even harboring a whisper of a lecture, there is an encouraging vibe to “Unbreakable,” the non-judgmental undertone that if Kimmy can dust herself off, time and again, maybe you can as well. It’s a bright show in all senses of the word: it’s intelligent; it’s optimistic, and it’s visually upbeat.

Can you tell I liked it?

I’ve read that Netflix mines its considerable data when creating original content. For example, with “House of Cards,” Netflix knew that users enjoyed the work of both director David Fincher and Kevin Spacey. Using that and viewership data for the original British version, and Netflix knew exactly what it had when it bought it.

I can’t decide if it’s genius or creepy. Maybe a little bit of both. Though Netfix is collecting the data regardless, I suppose we viewers might as well benefit.

The choice to buy “Unbreakable,” no doubt, came from the same wealth of information. Of the shows that Netflix actually produces, there’s only been one, I think, I didn’t like. Does that mean I’m on my way to being placated by the talking screen in my living room? On the doorstep of a Ray Bradbury world?

If I’m being honest, I probably went through the door, got myself a beverage, and found a comfortable seat a long time ago. Instant entertainment has become a way of life so prevalent, children no longer take a car ride without a show or a movie at their disposal.

Sure, Netflix could probably take over the world with its data. But at least it’ll give us great programming while it does it.

Check out  my full-length novels,  Her Cousin Much Removed,  The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management and Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only), and the sequel, Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) which is now available!

Sign up for my spamless newsletter. And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

 

 

 

‘Real Housewives of Melbourne’ Back to Beginnings

Standard

There is a certain magic to the first season of a Real Housewives show. And when I say “first,” I don’t mean a franchise, but rather the first one ever to grace the airwaves. Here in the U.S., it was “Real Housewives of Orange County.” In that first season, the women had no idea what the show would look like, how they would come off, how others would react to what they said. There was a certain almost innocence to it, as the cast said things that they thought would be amusing without a single consideration of the after effects.

Of course those days are long gone.

Unless you manage to catch the first season of the “Real Housewives of Melbourne,” that is. It. Was. Fantastic.

As the first Housewives franchise in Australia, it’s pretty clear these women had little idea what to expect. Unlike new Housewives here, they probably didn’t have the ability to talk to veterans beforehand, not the way the women can now. It was like watching the wheel be invented all over again.

Glorious.

What is so wonderful and so fleeting is the chance to watch self-awareness bloom. Not through the regular season, of course, since at that time, they’re still living it, and it’s amazing to watch. When you get to the reunion, you can see the beginnings of the transformation, because by then, these women have had an entire season to see what the rest of the world sees.

And there goes the innocence. Yes, by season 2, much weight has been lost, makeup notched up, and the uniform-issued false eyelashes applied. More structured facades have been built, with hearty patches over the bits that shone too raw the first go around.

They are entertainers, set to entertain. “Being themselves” is no longer the goal. Nope, now it’s the “storylines” and the screen time. Now they are famous people who feel they’ve earned their fame.

Granted, the more experienced Housewives here still have their moments, those cracks in the armor, the times when, in trying to be clever, they expose a part of themselves that they’d rather hide. But it’s not the same show as it was when they were all just giddy with the idea of being themselves on TV.

Now, for example, the “Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” is packed to the maximum FDA-approved Botox dose with professional actors. Not just aspiring actors. Professional ones. It’s impossible to know if Lisa Rinna’s lunging, wine-throwing, glass-shattering outburst in defense of her husband Harry Hamlin was emotion or great use of her soap opera days.

She was the iconic incarnation of Billie on “Days of Our Lives,” after all. RHOBH Cast-mate Eileen Davidson won an Emmy for her soap opera efforts. We already know there’s not a ton of reality in reality television, how do we know we haven’t shifted to scripted drama?

Does it matter? Well, yes and no. Until RHOM came along, I was still entertained, but had forgotten completely what drew me to the Housewives in the first place. It’s a reality TV version of the garden of Eden, before the apple of knowledge, a disappearing moment before the cast sees themselves as the world sees them and the gaming begins.

Check out  my full-length novels,  Her Cousin Much Removed,  The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management and Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only), and the sequel, Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) which is now available!

Sign up for my spamless newsletter. And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

 

 

 

 

‘House of Cards’ Backlash Against the Queen

Standard

Warning: this post contains spoilers for “House of Cards” and “Breaking Bad.”

It’s tough being the wife of an anti-hero these days. Actually, it’s probably always tough being the wife of an anti-hero, given that anti-heroes aren’t, by definition, nice guys. What I’m talking about, though, is the audience reaction to women who don’t want to be behind the man who makes the meth, or women who don’t want to be further marginalized in their husband’s murderous reach for ever more power.

I just finished the third season of “House of Cards.” Watching it in a social media vacuum to avoid spoilers, I saw a Claire greatly diminished from the one in the first season. For anyone who hasn’t watched the American version of this show, Claire Underwood, portrayed by the always, always brilliant Robin Wright, is wife to Frank Underwood, opportunistic power-seizer brought to chilling life by Kevin Spacey. Together, they have schemed themselves into the White House, a slew of bodies — metaphorical and literal — cluttering the path behind them.

But in this season, Frank tightened his circle of power to just himself, leaving out even his most stalwart co-conspirator, Claire. She has gone from a strong, ruthless head of a non-profit organization to now nothing more than a haircut and a smile, wearing what she is told to wear, standing where she is told to stand, saying what she is told to say. Slowly she has come to realize that her husband doesn’t see her as an equal partner, and she can no longer be certain that he ever did. No, she is one of his pawns, manipulated, her worth to him measured in polling points.

So she leaves.

And the internet complained. People were “tired of Claire.” They blamed her for Frank’s mistakes, as Frank blamed her for his mistakes. They thought she was hindering him. The thought that her timing, leaving during the presidential primaries, was unforgivable.

It’s reminiscent of the treatment Anna Gunn’s Skylar got in “Breaking Bad” when she wanted to leave her terrifying, homicidal drug-kingpin husband. She became the problem, she became the obstacle, she became the villain.

It seems that a woman choosing self-preservation over the toxic man to whom she is married is the ultimate act of selfishness, the ultimate betrayal. It’s insane, if you think about how these scenarios would play in real life, how they would feel in real life.

We are talking about male characters who, at the point their wives want to go, have no redeeming qualities. We aren’t even supposed to be rooting for them at this point, as their flaws have taken over, leaving something far more sinister.

These men are calculating murderers. They are entirely self-involved, entirely willing to do absolutely anything to achieve their goals. And yet the women are worse than they are because they want to leave them.

When women are in abusive relationships, people often ask why they stay. With these shows, the disdainful question becomes why do they leave.

Women are not possessions. Women are not garnish, as Claire was for most of season 3. We have a right to decide how we will and will not live.

Even when we’re fictional.

Check out  my full-length novels,  Her Cousin Much Removed,  The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management and Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only), and the sequel, Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) which is now available!

Sign up for my spamless newsletter. And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

 

When Twitter is my Favoritest

Standard

I didn’t think I’d like Twitter. And I didn’t.

At first.

I warmed up to it slowly, following people, getting some followers. And then I connected with people, and thought, hey, this is not so bad. Not the best thing in the world, but not so bad.

And then I decided to try live tweeting TV shows. It was like the heavens opened and sent a single, gorgeous beam of light. I had found it.

The perfect way to say those things I say out loud to myself while watching TV, but out loud to the world. It’s amazing. If you think it, you can tweet it.*

*(Note: Please, for the love of all that is holy, unholy or mildly perforated, do not tweet everything you think. You do not want to be the originator of the Tweet Heard Round the World Before You Couldn’t Hear Anything Else Because Everyone Is Talking about That Tweet But Not in a Good Way. And yes, there was a probably a shorter way to say that).

True, you have to actually be home at the time the show airs to really have the fun of live tweeting, and yes, there are those thingies, “commercials” I think the kids are calling ’em these days, though prefer to think of them as very short films with a particularly strong viewpoint. It’s not a flawless system.

And I also haven’t mastered the art of tweeting two shows at once, though it appears that some people do, so there are nights where I have to make some heavy choices. What can I say, life is full of hard decisions.

But if you love your shows, and you find yourself saying things to your television even though it can’t hear you — unless it’s a smart TV, then it’s listening to everything you say and storing it, and no I’m not making that up — you might as well say them to all the other people doing the same thing. That’s what Twitter’s for, right?

I think. Honestly I have no idea. All I know is it’s fun when a show is on.

Check out  my full-length novels,  Her Cousin Much Removed,  The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management and Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only), and the sequel, Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) which is now available!

Sign up for my spamless newsletter. And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!

Storytelling Insight from Victorian England

Standard

I was watching a British period drama — I haven’t met one yet that I’d pass up —  when it struck me that in Victorian times, according to literature written in that time and about that time, people used to die of anything. Even, simply, the loss of desire to keep living.

It is really quite remarkable. They decided they were too upset to go on, and then they didn’t.

It’s a convention found in the work of many, many authors of the era. There was no real need for a cause for death, for  a catalyst; the desire not to live was enough.

It’s one thing you can count on in Victorian novels. If a character doesn’t want to keep living, he or she won’t.

Is that an aspect of Victorian storytelling itself, or was it a sign of the times? In the time-frame of the show, somewhere in the late 1860s, a great deal of medicine was a mystery. In fact, it was only around that time that Louis Pasteur was drawing the connection between germs and disease. Without the science, a lot of life and death could look like mind over matter.

On the other hand, it does make for a convenient plot device, especially since it relies on the audience’s familiarity with the idea to do part of the work. Once someone seems to give up on life, any reader knew the clock was ticking.

It’s probably easier to see these kinds of shortcuts from a distance, especially when they are based on common assumptions that are later proven wrong. But it makes for a good question for any writer to ask him or herself while writing:

Is this here because it’s real? Or is it here because it’s easy?

Check out  my full-length novels,  Her Cousin Much Removed,  The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management and Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only), and the sequel, Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) which is now available!

Sign up for my spamless newsletter. And download Better Living Through GRAVY and Other Oddities, it’s free!