episodes: united states of tara, secret diary of a call girl

United States of Tara: I haven't really watched this show beyond the first two episodes, and with only four episodes to go, I doubt I'll go back and watch the ones I missed. But this last Sunday's episode was really fantastic, and it almost made me forget how oversimplified and stereotypical the alters are. I don't know much about Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), but I doubt it's as simple as "Alice deals with the maternal stuff, T comes out when there's too much adult stuff to deal with," etc. And although I LOVE the addition of Gimme -- a primitive, animal-like alter, complete with poncho and grunting sounds -- I don't know how realistic that is. I can understand an alter reverting back to a child-like state of mind, but an animal? My ignorance on this disorder allows me a double-function as a viewer: I can enjoy the projected images and situations, but I also have to question them. And one of the more interesting parts of this episode was Alice's announcement that she controls the other alters -- including, it seems, Tara. That makes sense, as Alice is the maternal 50s housewife, but it's interesting to think of "normal Tara" in the same realm as "hillbilly Buck."

But back to Sunday's episode. I thought it was well-written, as in, it had a really great flow throughout the singular narratives. The transition from Tara to Alice over vomiting was especially inspired; a moment that triggers a repulsive reflex turns into a revelatory moment, "I'm pregnant!" I enjoyed Max and the other children humoring Alice's fake pregnancy because this dismissive attitude really turned full circle at the end of the episode (when Tara gets her period and Alice thinks she's miscarried) and Max comes to comfort her on the bathroom floor. The episode also allowed some bonding between Alice, daughter Kate, and sister Charmaine. I think Charmaine has some underlying sexual chemistry with Max, and I don't know if the show is going to explore that, but her rejection of Tara's identity disorder has always been interesting to me. Tara's "chosen" family loves and accepts it, but her blood relation doesn't? I feel like there might actually be some truth to Tara faking it (which I don't think Showtime will do because they would get so many complaints from the medical community). Last week Charmaine bonded with Buck, and now she's bonded with Alice. These have been interesting situations to put Charmaine in. I also have to comment on Marshall's church show -- which, as anti-organized religion as it was, I know people like this, people who would put the Village People in hell and demonstrate a demonized version of getting an abortion. It honored this mindset (people at the show were disgusted, which was the point), but it also made fun of their oversimplification of morality. Also, as a last note, Nate Corddry plays creepy really well. His postmodern video sonnet was ten shades of disturbing.

Secret Diary of a Call Girl: Here is my biggest problem with this show. Nothing substantial ever happens, and when it does, it's as though it didn't. Case in point: I missed the last two episodes, and in one of those, Belle broke up with Alex (the very scrumptious Calum Blue) and then rebounded with Ben, her best friend. I watch Sunday's episode -- the second season finale -- and it's as though Belle never slept with Ben. They're still friends? There's no fall out? There are no lingering feelings? And according to the recap at the beginning, Ben broke up with Vanessa. So where does this leave his feelings for Belle? Not only that, but because this show only has ten episodes per season,* something like the Ben-Belle hookup should have been a monumental forward-driving plot point. It should NOT have been contained to one or two episodes. It's very frustrating the way this show absolutely refuses to develop its characters. Belle isn't likable, and there's not much to recommend her. Ben is fine, but he's only given three-to-five minutes of screen time each episode. The story arc of Belle falling in love and giving up her career as an escort should have been monumental, but instead it was just "something that happened." And the reveal that Alex was testing her, seeing if she had really given up her career for him, should have been shocking but it was predictable and not sad. I should've felt bad for Belle. I should've felt bad for Alex. But I just. didn't. care. I've finally decided -- I'm not going to watch this show anymore. It has such potential to be really good, and instead, it insists on being crap television. And why -- why -- is the makeup department so hell-bent on making Piper look as ridiculous as possible? The bright pink and purple lipstick wasn't enough? They had to give her clown hair? Does that somehow hide her pregnancy...?

* I don't know if future seasons will also have ten episodes. The first season had ten, I imagine, because it was a new show and Britain was testing out its watchability factor. The season season, though, should have had more episodes, right? But perhaps Billie Piper's -- very obvious! -- real-life pregnancy kept the episodes at a minimum? Either way, ten-episode seasons are not nearly long enough to develop any character arc.

snl: "the rock" obama

Dwayne Johnson does a great Barack Obama. Who knew?


And, because I never get tired of a sweet-voiced tattooed muscle man singing, here is Dwayne Johnson's monologue. He sings a song to prove how tough he is. Keep your eyes peeled for the scene involving chairs.

episode: lost, "lafleur" (5.8)

Wow. That was an amazing episode. For those of you who haven't figured this out about me by now, I focus more on the storylines and character development than anything else, more than any individual scene or any clever editing trick. With that being said, it's about time that we put the mysteries of the island on the back burner and spent large quantities of time with a central trio of characters (Sawyer, Juliet, and Horace). Now, I don't particularly enjoy Josh Holloway's acting (I've analogized him to Christian Bale's "Batman voice" in the past, and I'm standing behind that), and some of his deliveries were just too "I have a gruffly voice and therefore have authority" for my taste. But it was the actual execution of this episode -- switching between Three Years Earlier/Later -- that really made his transition into the sheriff (with a gruffly voice) interesting.

Daniel: The best shot of the episode has to go to Daniel watching Amy mourn the loss of her husband, Paul. She is crouched over his dead body in the grass, a visual mirroring Daniel's recent mourning of Charlotte. The reason this shot was so heartbreaking was, one, it only lasted a second or two, and two, Lost put Daniel in the background instead of closing in on a close-up of his sad eyes. (And boy, Jeremy Davies has some sad eyes.) For once, Lost wasn't hitting me over the head with its visual metaphors. It was an honest scene, and one well-played by Davies. As for Daniel seeing the little red headed Charlotte... it's 1974, but didn't Ben mention that her birthday was in the late 70s? That red-headed child is around four years old. So unless that child is jumping through time (which is actually possible, hmm), she is just a red herring.

Sawyer/Richard "Eyeliner" Alpert: This exchange was particularly interesting because Sawyer lies to Horace and the others in the Dharma Initiative about how he and his people got to the island. (Of course, Sawyer's the boat captain...) He explains they were looking for the Black Rock -- which is where he killed Locke's father (a surrogate for the real Sawyer that James Ford wanted to kill) -- which is probably where Horace gets his dynamite for the alcohol-induced explosive Three Years Later opening. This lie aside, I find it very telling that Sawyer uses the truth with Richard. He explains that it was the Hostiles (as the Others were known to the Dharma Initiative) who broke the truce by killing Paul and putting a bag over Amy's head. (Technically, Sawyer says that the truce hasn't been broken because he's not part of the Dharma Initiative, but I think the implication is that the Hostiles originally broke it.) He mentions John Locke by name, and poof, Richard has built a foundation of trust with Sawyer. But the reason why this scene makes me so sublimely happy is... finally -- FINALLY -- we have characters who TALK to one another and ask questions. No more of Juliet evading questions. (It still really annoys me that Ethan shot Locke in the leg, and Locke didn't have the chance to explain that to anyone.) No more of Jack neglecting to ask questions in the first place. (His initial meeting with Mr. Friendly, back before we knew his name was Tom, brings back anger.) Richard actually asks, "If you're not Dharma, then who are you?" Although Sawyer doesn't mention that he's a time-traveler from the future (it would be pointless to argue that truth at this point), he does give Richard a fair understanding of why he's on the island. He pretty much said, "Your messiah? Yeah, I'm waiting for him too," and that was all that needed to be said.

Sawyer/Juliet: I love Juliet; I really, really do. But let's be honest. She is written in the exact same way as Kate. This love quadrangle is beyond absurd. One, Jack and Sawyer are just recycling these women. (And how is Kate going to explain to Sawyer that she had sex with Jack right before they left for Guam? Hmm?) And two, Juliet is being forced into relationships for the sake of the masculine narrative. (And yes, I am of the thought that the patriarchal code of cinema is still relevant to modern televisual narratives. This is a male-driven show, and the women only exist to support the male characters' storylines.) With that being said, Juliet is intelligent and cautious. While it does make sense that after three years, she would develop a relationship with someone at the Dharma compound (let's not forget she was "the other woman" with Goodwin back in the day), did it have to be Sawyer -- and did it have to progress to the point where they were saying "I love you" to one another? And again, that scene proves my earlier point about it being a masculine narrative. Yes, this episode is Sawyer-centric, but Juliet's character is used at the expense of Sawyer's. The "I love you" scene was meant to demonstrate that he no longer has feelings for Kate... but what about Juliet? Was her brief relationship with Jack little more than a way to pass the time? Juliet's become the island whore -- and it's absolutely, entirely unbelievable. Cruse and Lindelof, I beg you. Please stop pairing her off when it makes no sense for her character to be with someone.

Enough of that rant. I thought it was sweet that -- with his alias "LaFleur" meaning flower in French -- Sawyer gave his homemaker hippie lady Juliet a sunflower. I do like the two of them together (honestly, I do!). I just wish that the previous relationship entanglements didn't previously occur.

Sawyer/Kate: Boring. I was SO angry at the last three minutes of the episode. So unbelievably angry. Lost gives me an excellent episode and then does the top three things that piss me off about the show, all within three minutes. One, Sawyer gets a phone call from Jin that Hurley, Jack and Kate have been found. Does he tell Juliet? Of course not. Sharing information is frowned upon on Lost. Did it even occur to Sawyer that Juliet might want to know that Jack is back? Two, when Sawyer sees Kate, Lost pulls the only heart-tugging trick it knows. No talking. No ambient sound (not even of the waves or the wind!!). Same few notes playing over the images. Extreme close-ups on faces. Boring. Boring. A thousand times boring. This has never -- not ONCE in the history of Lost -- brought tears to my eyes. Stop. Doing. It. And three, Kate is still alive. I know, I know. She's not going to die. (And I know that they won't ever kill her character, but until they write her better, I'm going to continue to wish that she dies.) So... Sawyer tells Horace that he's forgotten Freckles's face. (Lie.) Sawyer tells Juliet that he loves her. (Most likely true.) And then at the very thought of Kate coming back, he lies to the woman he loves, leaves her on the bed, and goes to a romantic cliffside to reunite with the woman he claims to have forgotten? No. It belittles Juliet as a love interest. It denies me the ability to ever take Sawyer seriously in a relationship. And it just makes me want Kate to die.

Horace: But I said that I enjoyed this episode, so let's get back to some of those reasons. I don't think that Lost is interested in explaining the Dharma Initiative, but I do think that they are going to explore some of this group's missions through living with them in the present. The D.I. is more like a backdrop for the events that happen on the island, not the other way around. The island is the real mystery, and the D.I. were just a bunch of scientists who inhabited it for a while. Because of this, Lost will only provide a few more answers about them -- mostly revolving around Ben and the upcoming Purge -- but other than that, the primary focus is on the island and the Others. If you remember, we first saw Horace back as the welcoming committee for the young Ben and his father, Broots. (According to Kristin at E!, we're going to see more of the young Ben in a four-episode arc. Huzzah!) But in that earlier episode, which is later than our current time, Horace isn't married to Amy. So what happens to Amy? (My guess is that she dies, and I suspect that it's due to a double-crossing nature of hers. There was something eerie about the way she led our Losties through the sonic fence and pulled out her ear plugs. I don't trust her.) But I did enjoy the Horace-Sawyer exchanges, and I think these two actors worked really well off one another. I found a mutual respect in those scenes, and I hope we see them again in the future.

The statue: Finally, we get to see remnants of an ancient society again. Judging by Paul's ankh necklace, the hieroglyphs on the Temple, and the statue's skirt, this was most likely an Egyptian civilization, which makes sense considering their location. And the statue was probably Anubis. Blah, blah, blah. You know, for someone who loves Greek and Egyptian mythology, this aspect of the show just isn't that interesting to me.

All in all, a very enjoyable episode. I'm happy that we got to see more character development... even if the episode did end on a faux reunion of unrequited love between Gruffly Voice and the Girl Who Just Won't Die.

first thirteen minutes of ABC's show Castle

ABC has released the first thirteen minutes of the Nathan Fillion crime-comedy Castle, and I have to say, it's a bit more charming than I was anticipating. At first glance, this show seems to be stealing the heterosocial "cop-buddy" formula of Bones, The Mentalist, and Fringe (whereby the goofy playboy male is juxtaposed with the intelligent and rational female), and this was a major turn-off for me. I'm happy that females are being represented as logical, but do they also have to be shown as cold-hearted and unable to let things roll off their backs? I also feel like pairings in this manner constrict the characters to certain boxes as a means of forcing the inevitable will-they-or-won't-they dilemma. I find this to be a terribly boring plotline when that's set up as a major premise, rather than unfolding naturally in the narrative. The original trailer for Castle, which can be seen at the end of the thirteen-minute promo, pretty much screams "SEXUAL ELECTRICITY! THEY'RE MADE FOR EACH OTHER!"

But, having said that, the first thirteen minutes shows promise. For one, the leading actress, Stana Katic, doesn't annoy me (at least, not yet). She's very fluid with her lines, and she doesn't seem to be putting on the tough act in every single one of her scenes. And then there's Nathan Fillion -- who is perfectly cast in this role -- who allows for serious moments, such as with his mother and daughter, in an otherwise absurd role. First, I'm pleased that he has a family of women around him. This will allow him to have heterosocial relations with women outside of Katic's character. Also, it will ground him as a character and make him seem more three-dimensional. If he were just a playboy with no moral foundation*, his schtick would get really old, really quickly. Second, I thought the incorporation of Castle into the police's work seemed natural and convincing. I hate that the original trailer makes the exchange in the questioning room seem so flirtatious, because the scene's actually better written than that. And third, Fillion is really bringing his A-game here. He's making sure that his character is likable, but also not a complete idiot. As soon as he's done joking with his new cop buddy, he goes home and starts looking through his old books for answers. It shows that he takes himself -- and his copycat psychopath fan -- seriously.

* The fantastic part about this -- other than casting Susan Sullivan (of Dharma and Greg) as Castle's mother -- is that Castle's daughter will play the adult in their relationship, and yet he will no doubt play the adult in his relationship with his mother. A fantastic scene in the promo involves his mother singing "I'm just a girl who can't say no," which Castle suggests be her theme song. There's a real boy-in-a-grown-man's-body issue here, and I think that will develop into something interesting.

The premiere is Monday at 10pm on ABC. I'll be watching the first few episodes. Hopefully the rest of the episode will maintain my interest.

glamour's tribute to female icons

On MSN.com, Glamour magazine looks to past female style icons in a photographic tribute to women in history. They write: "You can do anything! That’s the message of the seven decades of female risk takers, rule breakers and style makers here. We celebrate them with the help of some very-2009 young talents."


Alexis Bledel as Rosie the Riveter
In 1942 the U.S. government commissioned the “We Can Do It!” poster, which featured an image of a character who became known as Rosie the Riveter. Her biceps-revealing shirtsleeves and determined look were meant to motivate American women to step out of the kitchen and into the factory to replace the men who had been pressed into service during World War II. And millions did just that, paving the way for us to pull down paychecks more than 60 years later.

“She’s a symbol of women getting things done. It shows that strength is beautiful.” — Alexis Bledel, 27


Paula Patton as Billie Holiday
As an aspiring singer, Holiday suffered sexual abuse, struggled with a drug habit and encountered racism everywhere. But the late Lady Day—one of the first African American women to sing with an all-white orchestra—translated all of that pain into some of the most achingly personal songs ever recorded. (Download “Strange Fruit,” which she sang at her 1948 Carnegie Hall concert, and listen for yourself.)

“You can imagine that women at home hearing her songs on the radio felt her vocalizing their emotions and their struggles.” — Paula Patton, 33


Emma Roberts as Audrey Hepburn
OK, she was born in Belgium, but Hepburn became one of the most beloved American movie stars. Her sharp, sensitive turn as Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany’s made the film a must-see for women of all ages, while the late actress’s elegant style continues to inspire women to this day.

“She was so simply beautiful. And she loved charity work, something even more beautiful about her.”—Emma Roberts, 18


Alicia Keys as First Lady Michelle Obama
Not only is Obama the first African American filling the position, but she’s already making best-dressed headlines for a style that ranges from couture to J.Crew. Raised in Chicago, Obama, 45, powered on to Princeton and Harvard Law School before beginning a career during which she met, mentored and married our current President. Hail to our newest smart, opinionated, chic First Lady!

“She has worked hard for everything she’s accomplished, and done so with grace and humility. So many women and girls can identify with her story.”—Alicia Keys, 28

if a church were made of legos, would you go? I would!

This church, made of over 75,000 legs, features a balcony, a Narthex, stairs to the balcony, restrooms, coat rooms, several mosaics, a nave, a baptistery, an altar, a crucifix, a pulpit and an elaborate pipe organ. Restrooms! Impressive, no? (Click on the images for a closer look.)

episode: dollhouse, "stage fright" (1.3)

Things that didn't work in this episode: Oh, where to begin. (1) First of all, the storyline was absurd. Whitney Houston exploded into the mainstream back in 1992 with Bodyguard, and every time someone tries to reimagine this plot, I can't help but think any version thereafter is "the poor man's Bodyguard." The 1992 film is far from perfect, but it doesn't seem like anyone really expands on the basic plot. Here, Dollhouse tries to put a twist on a familiar tale (which they did last week with "The Most Dangerous Game"), but the "twist" is that the singer, Rayna, actually wants to die and -- get this -- has a pact with her psychopath killer. He kills her during a show, and she is set free. The biggest problem I have with this is... the show doesn't explore how Rayna feels trapped. So she has to pretend to be happy and grateful all of the time. So she is "factory made" (which should have been a nice parallel to Echo's own factory manufacturing, but it seemed so blatant and obvious that I wish it hadn't actually been written into the script).* But so what? Why did she feel like she couldn't simply quit the business?

* To be fair, Fox is notorious for dumbing down scripts so that it reaches the lowest common denominator, and Fox, time and time again (see Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles and House), has shown that they think that denominator is the shared IQ of 95, and no one can pick up on visual signs; everything must be spelled out verbally. It makes deconstructing this text entirely unengaging because Fox wants the message and purpose of the episode to be written in the very delivery of it.

Besides the narrative itself, and the grossly overdone unappreciative diva stereotype, (2) Tahmoh Penikett is still being underutilized. In the same way that Chuck had a problem incorporating the Buy More into the agent action in season one, Dollhouse is having trouble integrating Ballard's quest into the major A-storyline adventures of Echo. Although, to this episode's credit, revealing that the Russian leak was an active doll was refreshing and did offer a bridge -- though faint and minor -- between the two story arcs. But during the fight sequence between Ballard and those nameless/faceless mobsters, I found myself cheering for Helo (rather than Ballard), which may be more my fault than the show's, but Ballard's character has not been developed enough for me to care about him. Why is he so intent on finding the Dollhouse? Did he have a run-in with Echo in the past? I find it hard to believe that his sole determination hinges on secret clues left by a mysterious third party. We're three episodes in now, and we still don't know what motivates Ballard.

(3) Some of the dialogue was unintentionally referential. At one point Rayna screams at Echo, "You don't get to tell me what I can and can't do" -- which immediately transported me to various episodes of Lost. (Which further supported my feelings about Locke being an obnoxious, complaining teenage girl.) The other line was when Rayna was dangling from the catwalk and she said, "I want to live!" I definitely thought of George Bailey, and I don't think that was an appropriate connection to make here. But her delivery was almost identical to "I want to live, Clarence! I want to live!"

What did work about this episode: To continue on Ballard, I did appreciate the following exchange with the Russian. On the one hand, it shows you an intelligent contemplation on why the dollhouse could plausibly exist and the ethical implications involved (the Dollhouse is like the atomic bomb!), but it also shows, through the Russian's unbothered delivery, a common dismissiveness about the dark side of human nature.

Ballard: We split the atom; we built a bomb. We come up with anything new, and the first thing we do is destroy, manipulate, control. It's human nature.
The Russian: Yeah, people are mostly crap.

Also, (2) the last three minutes of this episode were incredibly well done -- but in no way make up for the abysmal previous 40 minutes. And for the first time, it made me excited about the next upcoming episode. Security advisor Laurence Dominic makes the point that Echo is a a risk** -- she makes decisions outside of how she's programmed ("She went off mission!") -- to which Adelle DeWitt counter-argues that Echo did precisely as told (saving Rayna's life) and, furthermore, prevented Rayna from wanting to risk her own life in the future. Of course, these two characters are looking at it from a strictly business point of view. This scene is juxtaposed immediately by the following scene between Boyd Langdon and Dr. Saunders. He calls Echo "special," but Dr. Saunders notes that, referring to Alpha, "special" isn't good in the Dollhouse. Being the best isn't the goal, as she notes, "Sometimes the best to hope for is being just good enough." These two scenes were brief (no longer than a minute each), but both of them developed strong arguments about the business structure of the Dollhouse as well as concerns for reaching beyond the safety of conformity. (I'm just waiting for the inevitable episode where Echo goes to live in Suburbia.)

** In Battlestar Galactica, "retiring" a Cylon was referred to as being "boxed." Here, the concept is similar, but the active would be sent to the "Attic" (no doubt with a capital A), which is a counter-feminist reference, I believe, to The Madwoman in the Attic. There is a thread in much of 18-19th century literature where women who are intelligent, rebellious, or independent are "monsters" and should kept under lock and key in the attic. So here, we have the independent thinking Echo, and that's a problem for the most masculine figure of the show. He's the man of action (brawn) who is quick to "retire" Echo for thinking for herself. But I find pleasure -- instead of irritation -- in this scene because Dominic is immediately silenced by a well-crafted counter-argument from Adelle DeWitt, the female mastermind behind the Dollhouse.

And in addition to this, the closing scene of the episode (3) shows a wonderful visual parallel between Rayna and Echo. Instead of explicitly drawing this connection, the episode shows us Rayna on the stage, isolated under the blinding stage lights, no longer "putting on a show" for herself or her psychopath fan. And she sings her song about freedom: Gotta find the freedom that's promised me freedoms from our struggles and our misery. Freedom is all we need to heal the pain of history. The singer is trapped by the limited space of her performance stage, and she does not exist beyond that frame. And then the camera switches to Ballard in the hospital, who is literally paralyzed by his pursuit of something intangible (technically, the gun bullet is what confines him to the hospital bed, but it's a metaphor), and Echo sings over the images: Each day when the sun shines upon my eyes, it feels me with love, makes me feel alive. I'm saving it up for a rainy day, when there's no light to guide my way. The episode closes on Echo, who, walking through the Dollhouse, feels herself being watched and does not stop to converse with Sierra, the other active. The Dollhouse is no longer the Buddhist safe-haven it parades itself to be.