DIETLAND was a one-season wonder from Marti Noxon (BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER, MAD MEN, UNREAL) based on Sarai Walker’s novel. The show was canceled too soon, but was one hell of a ride, something that starts as DEVIL WEARS PRADA that turns into a woman-focused FIGHT CLUB.
DIETLAND is unabashedly about fashion-and-capitalism, faux-feminism and body positivity and faith and, while it’s uniquely about women, it wildly resonates.
I would have loved to have seen a second season, as I’m sure it would have been absolutely bonkers in all the right ways, and certainly take place in the future, but I’m happy that there’s at least one season.
BILLIONS is one of those premium cable shows that I’m never sure how many people actually watch, but the sixth season — yes, sixth and alleged final season — recently premiered on January 23rd, 2022.
Created by Brian Koppelman and David Levien of ROUNDERS, KNOCKAROUND GUYS, and OCEAN’S THIRTEEN fame, BILLIONS takes a similarly deep dive into the minutiae of men skirting the edges of the finance world. It’s has the appearance of an expensive, emotionally dramatic financial legal thriller, complete with tons of recognizable faces talking at each other and, when they aren’t talking at each other, they’re toying around with some grand destructive spectacle.
BILLIONS features Chuck Rhoades (a very game Paul Giamatti) as the Attorney General of New York City whose white whale is the ‘self-made financial empire man’ Bobby ‘Axe’ Axelrod (HOMELAND’s Damian Lewis). Chuck is married to psychologist Wendy Rhoades (Maggie Siff, MAD MEN, SONS OF ANARCHY), who Axe ends up enlisting at his firm while Chuck spends his nights indulging his own more prurient subservient interests.
There are a number of more intriguingly drawn characters, including Axe’s right-hand-man, the extraordinarily hedonistic Wags (BREAKING BAD’s Gale, David Costabile), Chuck’s ice-cold father (the ever-brilliant character actor Jeffrey DeMunn), and Taylor Mason (Asia Kate Dillon, ORANGE IS THE NEW BLACK), Axe’s VIP non-binary quant.
I’m sure there are some folks who watch BILLIONS for how it represents the machinations of the financial and political world. I wouldn’t know as none of that really interests me. I watch for the Iannucci-esque verbal tongue lashings of the show.
Ultimately, BILLIONS is a soap opera, and I don’t mean that as a pejorative. I enjoy the feints and the relationship turns and characters lapsing out of the show, only to find their way back in. However, after the first two seasons, it becomes blatantly obvious that any brutal hits to any of the major players would quickly be retracted or written around. This is television, and television likes to maintain a status quo, but nothing takes the sheen off of a sharp and biting high-end series like seeing a character written into a corner and then, one ep later, is back on top, none the worse for wear, even if the entire series is built around two monsters jockeying to see the other punished.
Nonetheless, BILLIONS has more than a few compelling facets, such as its portrayal of the NYC food scene. The majority of the show takes place in restaurants and diners, and those dining scenes genuinely reflect the history and disposition of the characters Chuck and Axe are consistently meeting with throughout their day. Both often know their colleagues’ favorite haunts, or at least know where to suggest, so one meal might be Chuck dropping by late-morning to meet a rich Italian at their favorite very dated luncheon spot, then two hours later he’s picking at a deli sandwich while complaining about a recent wrong to an ally.
These ritualistic eating scenes worked quite well at giving the actors something to do while spitting their lines back-and-forth until midway through season five, when COVID shut down production. When it re-opened, well, I don’t quite want to spoil matters, but the restaurant outings dried up. Interactions fundamentally changed, forcing the show to pivot its directorial mode. I’m not 100% sure it was successful — you can be the judge — but it’s interesting.
But I digress: there’s also the fashion. Since this is, more often than not, a show about men talking at each other, about -rich- men talking at each other ad nauseam, those behind the scenes know that these men have look good, look -expensive-, and still have their clothing reflect their personas. (I’ll note that I’m no expert here, but even I can see that they put a lot of effort into the costume design.)
For instance, Chuck is always wearing immaculately conservative — but yet striking — suits that bring out his blue eyes.
Axe is the polar opposite, opting for high/low looks, more upscale versions of what a college kid would have been wearing in the 90s: expensive trainers, tailored jeans, excessively aged and distressed band shirts made to look like he’s been carting them around his entire life, but still fit like a glove. Like Zuckerberg, he has a penchant for hoodies, but his hoodies cost four figures and greatly flatter him.
Then, as a contrast, you have Taylor, who very specifically dresses in non-gendered, but very striking ways; all darker colors, longer but open suit coats, black tops, loose-but-still-fitted vests.
Lastly, there are the music needle drops. The show has grown into a comfortable rhythm of opening up swinging with some classic rock that costs a fortune to license. At one point, not only does METALLICA appear on the show, they play a live show (or at least appear to).
While BILLIONS narratively never feels as expensive as everything around it, all of the little touches work in its favor to create something that, while it’s not unique, has the veneer of uniqueness and, sometimes that’s more than enough.
(Hulu/VOD) I rarely watch reality shows but, somehow, I’ve watched each and every episode of CBS’ THE AMAZING RACE, a show that has been endlessly airing in the shadow of SURVIVOR for thirty-plus seasons over twenty — yes, twenty — years. (I’m unwilling to do the math as to how much time I’ve spent on the show, so I’ll leave it to you.)
If you aren’t familiar with THE AMAZING RACE — for a show that has been around for twenty years and has received numerous Emmy wins, it’s flown surprisingly under the radar — it’s a family-friendly reality show hosted by New Zealander and avid traveler Phil Keoghan in which a number of teams fly around the world while participating in competitive tasks. There’s some game theory that goes on, as teams have a variety of options they can use to disrupt other teams progress, but usually the winners who make it across the finish line are those who are young and quick on their feet, don’t overthink challenges, and have a lot of luck with flights and taxis.
So, yes, it’s a reality show competition, but really? It’s first and foremost a throwback to the days of travelogue films, exposing audiences to foreign lands and traditions they’d more than likely never experience. If you’re interested in world culture, and don’t mind the occasional ugly American team or somewhat squicky task, the show is endlessly compelling.
Given the nature of the show, obviously COVID-19 completely thew a wrench into production. They were a few legs into the thirty-third season when the pandemic hit, so they sent the contestants home and instead aired a series they had filmed several years ago and shelved for some reason. (It wasn’t a great season, but it certainly wasn’t one of the worst.)
Now Phil and the show is back and, while it will be difficult to watch knowing how events unfurl, and how they adapted to CVOID, and now with the omicron wave, I’ll be more than happy to check it out. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I teared up a bit upon watching the teaser for the new season.
While there -is- a new season, if you haven’t seen the show, I suggest starting with the fifth season, as it has a number of iconic moments and compelling drama.
If you’ve seen a handful of seasons and haven’t seen the first season, it’s a fascinating curio as it is radically different from what the show would become.
Not gonna lie; IT’S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PHILADELPHIA runs hot-or-cold for folks. It’s an extremely acerbic show that you either love or hate, and I happen to fucking love it. While it’s often extremely distasteful, it also has a surprisingly sweet side.
The latest season was a bit off-kilter, but the trip to Ireland was chef kiss and, while it was shorter than I would have liked, it did lean into a bit more emotion and sensitivity, which PHILLY has become surprisingly good at for a show that’s so unabashedly unapologetic for how awful their characters are.
“[One] of the few shows I had to relegate to only watching during the daytime and while I wasn’t working, because it was so fucking hilarious that it was distracting and my laughter was prone to waking folks up.”
THE GREAT
Hilariously filthy and horny on Tverskaya, while still being emotionally and historically insightful, while still being completely irreverent. Completely unlike anything else on the air right now.
HACKS
While the Jean Smart-renaissance contines, I’m far more interested in Hannah Einbinder and her journey. A fantastic scrutinization on women in comedy and their personal endeavors.
“[F]unny, warm, smart, and occasionally scary. The season one finale, which saw him documenting the spread of COVID-19 via his Greek landlord was so heartwarming, while also being heartbreaking.”
ONLY MURDERS IN THE BUILDING
“It’s a legitimately thrillingly suspenseful tale that, honestly? Didn’t need to be.“
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-V1rQdXXXyI
RESERVATION DOGS
An astounding work of the trials and tribulations indigenous folks have to live with in America, while still being amazingly funny.
STAR TREK: DISCOVERY S3 (one ep in 2021, so I’m counting it.)
““This is my kind of STAR TREK!” [I exclaimed,] as there were more than a few eps that focused on discovering new worlds with kind intent, recreating the wonder that drew me into the STAR TREK universe in the first place. While not all of the characters are terribly complex, their motives and Federation-centric willfulness to be as helpful as they can be was refreshing, comforting, and familiar. It felt like the show realized what it needed to do to recapture the original series’ magic, all while gamely moving matters forward.”
“A confused mix of hash anthems and sour girl power. […] It was kind of like therapy, but with a lot of screaming.”
—
“I’m the lamb, by the way.”
WHAT WE DO IN THE SHADOWS S3
While S3 didn’t hit the highs of Jackie Daytona, it was still far more hilarious and heartfelt and inventive than practically any other high-concept comedy out there.
THE WHITE LOTUS
Mike White is exceptional at not only writing the plights of privileged white folks, but also in managing your expectations when it comes to those set-pieces. This is his case of having his cake and eating it too.
WYNONNA EARP
WYONNA EARP was caught in Canadian finance limbo for far too long, but the final season delivered. It was always an underrated genre show, and sadly it appears that it’ll remain that way.
YELLOWJACKETS
YELLOWJACKETS’ pilot is perhaps the best genre pilot since LOST, and you can watch it for free!
YELLOWJACKETS is best described as teen girl LORD OF THE FLIES meets LOST, but frankly, it’s better, at least so far. The characters are more complex, the circumstances more interesting, and they (so far) aren’t drawing out paranatural circumstances.
(HBO/HBO MAX) HOW TO WITH JOHN WILSON just wrapped its second season, but for the purposes of this recommendation, I will stick to the first season, solely because I’m a bit behind on the second season. (That said, the second season enlisted the skills of one of the best writerly documentarian of the current generation, Susan Orlean, so take that as a full-throated recommendation for skipping ahead if you’re impatient.)
John Wilson is an obsessive documentarian. He always has a camera in his hand and he’s always looking out for some oddity, searching for thirty-seconds of visual intrigue in New York City. However, he’s also capable of a meandering weaver of cultural insight.
Each episode of HOW TO WITH JOHN WILSON starts off with an innocuous ideal: “How to Make Small Talk”; “How to Improve Your Memory”; “How to Cover Your Furniture” but each episode is like a strange stream-of-consciousness/exquisite corpse-like tale where he wanders to a larger humanist insight. It’s funny, warm, smart, and occasionally scary. The season one finale, which saw him documenting the spread of COVID-19 via his Greek landlord was so heartwarming, while also being heartbreaking.
My wife asked me: “Is there a name for this sort of genre? Overly-sincere dudes examine the lives they witness around them?” I wish I could lay a name to the genre, but shows like these — NATHAN FOR YOU, JOE PERA TALKS WITH YOU, and HOW TO WITH JOHN WILSON, escape classification. We’re simply used to dude-based TV works as being meditations about cruelty, and I’m happy to see that we’re finally rounding the curve, that we’re seeing works about men questioning their world, reaching out, being empathic. It gives me hope and warms my cynical heart.
“You don’t always realize you’re in the middle of history until it’s over.”
(peacock/VOD) A.P. BIO is, well, was since it’s been canceled for a second time, ostensibly about a narcissistic asshole named Jack Griffin (IT’S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PHILADELPHIA’s Glenn Howerton) who is thrust into teaching a high-school A.P. Biology course that he has absolutely no interest in. While the first season tried to adhere to a saccharin-sweet balance, the subsequent seasons firmly posited the show as a gag machine firing on all cylinders.
Consequently, the rest of this write-up will consist solely of recounting some of the most ridiculous jokes:
—
“I have my father’s eye.”
“You mean eyes.”
“Oh no, his actual eye. I had a bum cornea so, when he died, they just swapped his right into my eye, and that’s why I don’t look at myself naked because it wouldn’t be appropriate.”
Oh Paula Pell, you do know how to comedically sell a melancholy tale.
—
“Yes, we did it! It was us! We were the ones who brought the ice down from the misty mountains! Take this back to the princess and she can have her Snowcone! Curtain; intermission.”
“Wow! That all happens in Act I? That’s -amazing-!”
“I have a few notes. I feel like it owes a big debt to THE EMPEROR’S NEW GROOVE.”
—
“He skipped lunch with a student! Look at him: he dressed like Betelgeuse for this!”
“Uh, I’m ska.”
“He’s ska-red! I’m ska too. I’m very ska. But Durbin come back safe safe.”
—
“Mary, I renew my objection to this whole cabin in the woods business. I mean, I don’t know many times I have to tell you that I don’t do full nature.”
“We are going to have so much fun! Three foxy mammas in the great outdoors? We’re either going to meet a bigfoot, a Brawny paper towel man, or a Leatherface. And, as you know, two of three three are my type.”
“I mean, it’s sure to beat Michelle’s pick of San Antonio from last year.”
“I promised my dad I would tour the Pace Picante factory before he died, so I did it, and then he died right away, and now my mom sort of blames me for it, so yeah, Stef, really dull trip.”
—
“Metal compasses? Hand over the math knives, Wolverine.”
“I have a parasitic twin! It’s just a mass of hair and teeth, really. It’s in a jar at home! …that felt pretty vulnerable, and I’d love it if someone looked at me.”
Jack spots a poster of a wrestling match: “Neanderthal gymnastics.” (No offense to fans of wrestling, but it’s a great Jack quip.)
Not a line, but a great bit of costume design: Anthony, one of the students, is wearing a DINOSAURS ‘NOT THE MAMMA!’ shirt.
—
“Whoa, PIECES OF APRIL. Nice. Very on-brand for our Katie Holmes Day rummage sale.” I genuinely, unironically love that movie, and apparently the A.P. BIO folks do too as they even dress student Heather (the always entertaining Allisyn Snyder) up as the titular April, and drop in a few other fun riffs that I don’t want to spoil.
“Ralph, the football team wants real energy drinks. They figured out that Gatorade Clear is just water.”
—
“We need to bust outta here now.”
“Oh no, I’m not going outside. There’s probably cows flying around.”
“Yeah, I’m not trying to get hit upside the head by no barn or something, knocking my baby straight outta of me before I get to paint the nursery.”
“Listen to me: Keith is sound-mixing today. He works in a glass gazebo in our backyard with a blindfold and noise-cancelling headphones! And the song he’s working on is mostly wind and sirens! I need to sneak out of here and save my husband, and I need your help.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s dead. And you need to let him go. But I’ll help you get out!”
“At least to identify the body.”
—
…and Bruce Campbell pops up on A.P. BIO:
“Dad?”
“Haha, Jack Sprat. My God. Look how big you are.”
“I’ve been this size for twenty years.”
Now that’s some fantastically succinct character background information, wrapped up in one great quip, and exactly why this show deserves more attention.
—
“Now, what’d everyone bring for their lunch roulette? And it’d better be good. Mary?”
“Huh? Oh, I would go first, but I want to see what Helen’s got.”
“Oh! Well, I had some time this morning so I just whipped up some seared duck breast in a balsamic reduction.”
“Oh!” “Wow.”
“And I would’ve made dessert, too, if the duck had gone down easier! Hehe!”
“Helen, did you kill this duck, like, this morning?”
“Well, yeah, I wasn’t gonna pan-fry it alive. I’m not a psychopath!”
– *
“Okay, for lunch roulette, I brought: one, normal, unadulterated ba-na-na!”
“…is this a rusty nail?” (There’s clearly a rusty nail embedded in said ba-na-na.)
“If it’s roulette, there’s gotta be one bullet to make it fun! Whatever, you guys suck. Let’s just play!”
—
“It’ll be nice for Rhonda to see how much we care. I tell you this: when Keith goes, I’m… [imitates self-inflicted gunshot to the head].”
“Hold up. Goes? Goes where?”
“Weren’t you listening? Rhonda’s husband died. What did you write on the card?”
“I wrote ‘Yippee! You’re back in the game! Get some, X-X-X’”
—
Context: A baby has just been born. Folks are speculating about the baby in the hospital.
“I just wish I could hold her! I’ll lactate, because I was a wet nurse during the Great Recession.”
Also: shout-out to THE GOBLINS/SUSPIRIA riff midway through the season finale. Again, is A.P. BIO necessary viewing? Probably not, but it’s hilariously and memorably inventive, and I’ll definitely miss it, as they really figured out how to make this world work over the past two seasons, even though S4 definitely leaned into the predictive sitcom tropes the show had been working so hard to avoid. However, it’s so sweet and funny that I don’t care.
The show introduces itself as Joe Pera (Joe Pera) acting as sort of a meek male, acting as a life instructor, trying to bestow his overly-earnest life lessons via a pseudo-docu-drama format. If that sounds a little too arch, a little too meta, it’s played utterly sincerely and with a straight face. It’s not for laughs, although there are a number of them, usually at Joe’s innocent antics. (For example, when he discovers THE WHO’s -Baba O’Riley-.)
While the first and second seasons of the show normally focus on Joe’s observations — apart from a few asides, including an exceptional season two finale where Joe learns a lot about his fellow co-worker/girlfriend Sarah Conner (Jo Firestone, also one of the show’s writers and not Linda Hamilton) — the third season backgrounds him in lieu for the ensemble they’ve built over the past two seasons, such as his best friend Gene and Sarah Conner. It’s a perfect example of a show’s creators and writers realizing ‘oh, we have something special here’ and exploring further, rather than following a rigid formula.
Season three is still on-going, but there’s one episode where Sarah comes home drunk from a meet-up she was invited to, and the entire eleven minutes of the ep are dedicated to Joe just listening to her recount the tale of her night, while also trying to feed her to sober her up. It’s the closest I’ve seen TV approach to say, the realism and tone of a Jim Jarmusch film.
It also helps that Sarah is an extraordinarily complicated character, with far more depth and a far more scarred life than Joe, and to watch him accept her for her complexities is a beautiful thing.
It’s also goddamn hilarious when it’s not pulling at your heartstrings. For example, this singular exchange from a career woman magician Sarah meets at a wine party:
“We need more women in STEM. And by that, I mean skateboarding, television, e-sports, and magic!”
What could have been a lazy riff on the self-absorption of modern true crime podcasts became something far more interesting, bolstered by some of the best performances by Steve Martin and Martin Short in years. Also, as someone who constantly extolls the use of silence in visual works, I was gobsmacked by the seventh ep of season one, ‘The Boy from 6B’. Additionally, Selena Gomez is a triumph who constantly overshadows both Martins.
It’s a legitimately thrillingly suspenseful tale that, honestly? Didn’t need to be.
(peacock/tubi/VOD) Gutted to hear that the world has lost Dean Stockwell. While he was in two COLUMBO episodes, my favorite of his is THE MOST CRUCIAL GAME. Dean Stockwell plays Eric Wagner, a hedonistic playboy who owns a Los Angeles football team who is murdered by the team’s manager Paul Hanlon (classic COLUMBO villain Robert Culp).
For the roughly ten minutes Stockwell is on-screen, he’s hilariously languid, lazy, high and hungover, and it’s the highlight of the episode — which is saying a lot considering how brilliant the interplay between Culp and Peter Falk always is. It’s not quite what I’d label as a classic episode of COLUMBO, but it’s an extremely enjoyable 75 minutes and, thanks to director Jeremy Kagan — perhaps best known for helming THE CHOSEN (1981) — features some of the surprisingly experimental camerawork and editing that the early COLUMBO eps are known for. You’ll be missed, Dean.
This was initially penned for a collection of fan essays meant to cover the entire COLUMBO series, but the collection was never realized.
Viveca Scott is not like other murderesses in Columbo. She’s not an actress. She’s not married, she’s not a scorned lover, she’s not even insecure. She’s the head of Beauty Mark, a cosmetics company so popular that even our dear detective is familiar with her face.
Despite its popularity, Beauty Mark’s stock has been fading. Viveca (Vera Miles) needs a hit, as her gloating competitor David Lang (Vincent Price) reminds her. However, Viveca has an ace up her sleeve with the brilliant-but-boozy Dr. Murcheson, a chemist skilled enough to manufacture the cosmetics holy grail: a cream that eradicates the appearance of age, aptly named Miracle.
Sadly, Murcheson’s alcoholism is a roadblock in getting Miracle to market. In the nightmarish opening, we see his sweaty, porous face splashed with red light, looking the very sight of a mad doctor as he runs some final tests on a female subject. Murcheson’s assistant chemist, Karl Lessing (Martin Sheen), simply observes until Murcheson’s tremors nick the woman’s face. Karl takes over, leaving Murcheson to find comfort in a whiskey bottle.
Murcheson evaluates the test results and tells Viveca that Miracle is a failure, the prior, very successful results a fluke, but she hears quite different news from her spy at Lang’s: mousy, loose-lipped assistant Shirley Blaine. Shirley informs Viveca that Lang just received the most ingenious cream and, in one of the more far-fetched Columbo scenes, Shirley applies the cream to a nearby maid’s face and her crow’s feet disappear!
It dawns on Viveca that Karl, Murcheson’s assistant, falsified Miracle’s latest tests and brought the cream to Lang. Instead of informing Murcheson or buying the cream from Shirley, Viveca opts to unsuccessfully bargain with Karl for Miracle’s formula. When he laughs at her escalating offers, Viveca does what few Columbo murderers do: in the heat of the moment she impetuously kills Karl, bludgeoning him with a nearby microscope. She takes Karl’s single jar of Miracle and leaves before his body cools.
Early the next morning, Columbo investigates the scene of the crime (showing more interest in finding salt for his hard-boiled egg than clues), then makes a beeline for Viveca, following her from Karl’s dartboard to Beauty Mark’s offices, then to Viveca’s ‘Fat Farm’, peppering her with questions the entire way. Upon inquiring about her history with Karl, she responds: “I like young men, Lieutenant, lots of them. And if that shocks your ancient masculine double standard, I’m sorry.” In retaliation, Viveca drags Columbo to a nude exercise group, leaving the Lieutenant flustered and eager to exit and question Murcheson.
With one irritant out of her way, Viveca goes to dispatch another. Shirley has realized that Viveca was behind Karl’s murder, and the poor girl (who just wants to be like Viveca) tries to leverage that knowledge for a Beauty Mark executive position. Instead of granting her wish, Viveca opts to murder again (another Columbo abnormality) by gifting her poisoned cigarettes. Shirley dies while smoking and driving, looking to the world as if she lost control of her car.
Unfortunately, Shirley’s death does little to prevent Columbo from piecing together the murder. He confronts Viveca and she’s taken away, an unceremonious end for a most unusual Columbo woman. Viveca was a wily, successful, independent, occasionally shortsighted woman, sadly all too capable of murder. She was an anomalous antagonist when compared to Columbo’s other killer women, co-dependents who murdered out of jealousy, revenge, or ‘easy’ money. Viveca Scott was a murderess the likes of which Columbo had never seen before, and would never see again.
