Ruminating on the end of 2021

The countdown to 2022 ushers in a rag-tag assortment of eclectic tv and film recos as well as one dud.

Perhaps it’s a sign of the ending of Year 2 in a pandemic (first full year). My TV and film preferences have been a little all over the place for the past few weeks. The word “disarray” comes to mind and it’s not one I’m fond of. I don’t like mess, disorder, or things that can’t be neatly solution-ed for in the span of, at most a 10-episode series with the arc in episode 5. Just ask my husband. I’m notorious for reading spoilers online after the first episode. Who am I kidding? It’s usually half way thru the 1st episode I’m on my phone scouring for evidence and that’s with full impulse control on a good day.

I’ve come to certain realizations about my TV and film preferences. I love the dramatic ones that make me cry and, let’s be honest, that’s pretty much all of them. I love ones that feature a strong female protagonist that has to fight the odds, find herself and her tribe in the process, but also coincidentally have a strange aversion to the saccharine brand of processed storytelling pedaled by Hallmark Movies & Mysteries empire. Can’t even deal…But this meme made me chuckle:

Like many, I get nostalgic around the holidays about the people I’ve lost and those that I continue to mourn. I gravitate at all times of the year to watching TV and film that simulate that experience of loss which I recognize may translate to being an odd fixation, but on the flip side, can be restorative and life-affirming. To be bold in the face of content that makes us flinch as a response to its brutal realism (pretty much every film from the 70’s which is arguably one of the best decades of film) is cathartic and as Joan Didion, famed ‘New Journalism’ author, essayist, screenwriter, and brilliant capturer of California 60’s and 70’s counterculture effuses in “The Year of Magical Thinking”:

We are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. as we were. as we are no longer. as we will one day not be at all.

The impact of these lines and their delivery is really around mourning our own mortality. In mourning the loss of others we are actually mourning the loss of our prior selves and facing our mortality up front in ways that only thru the loss of a loved one, that sentiment of our earthly transience becomes lucid and real. Too deep? Ok, let me dial it back a little.

My selections below are curated both in the spirit of the oddly life-affirming if you can stomach the flinching, as well as the tacky, totally carefree fluff. As a Libra, I embrace both sides equally and shoulder no judgement for others who partake in similar yin-yang genres, unless it’s a Hallmark production.

Station Eleven on HBO Max based on the Emily St. John Mandel novel which is definitely a top 10 novel of all times for me. The premise of the story is a viral pandemic sweeps the Earth and the people who remain are faced with having to rebuild in the absence of technology and skills that they used in a modern life. To survive is to adapt and pivot to skills needed in the new world.

Taken by me at the Van Gogh immersive exhibit in the VR room. Look closely at the index card. A tad eerie, I admit.

There’s a philosophical argument at the crux of the story about what constitutes the makings of a brave, new world - whether it’s required to scorch the past (and its people) to truly rebuild without the trappings of the past or, in a more moderate contrast, to hold on to the cultural and moral remnants of what made the past so vibrant and carry that into the new world order. Either way, the show which releases two new episodes each Friday on HBO Max, has some off episodes and other more interesting ones. For naysayers who feel that the topic hits a little too close to home, it will, but get over it. It’s worth it.

For an excellent review of Station Eleven, read James Poniewozik’s review (In ‘Station Eleven,’ the World Ends, Beautifully, The New York Times)

Favorite character and best thing to happen to Station Eleven:

David Wilmot as Clark Thompson

Emily in Paris on Netflix aka “Embrace the joys of tackiness.” Marketing maven and fashionable, Insta-perfect American, Lily Collins plays the walking contradiction, the titular Emily - clueless but winsome, Type-A and neurotic but from Chicago who moves to Paris for a job and loses her boyfriend in the process which opens the door to other relationships. Emily is reminiscent of “Cher” from Clueless but primed for an updated Millennial jet-setting crew. Emily doesn’t know how to enjoy herself, per the French. She works too much or never stops working which is frowned upon but which feels entirely relatable as an American. Still, she manages to make time for friends and romance. The ensemble cast here is phenomenal with noteworthy performance from Ashley Park as Mindy Chen, a Chinese ex-pat known in some circles as Madame Pipi and in others, for her busking chops. She’s truly magnificent.

I binge-watched all of Season 2 in about a day and half. I did the same with Season 1. It’s a Darren Star production. For those born after 1980, Star is synonymous with all the salacious, good-time drama that Gen Xers chatted about all the time. Think Beverly Hills, 90210, Melrose Place, and Sex and the City.

And btw, Lily Collins (daughter of that famed drummer and Genesis band member, Phil Collins), is incapable of a bad photo. It’s all in the eyebrows, I’m convinced, though the hair and face don’t hurt either. To say the camera loves her, is really an understatement of the year. Also she’s married to the son of A Clockwork Orange actor Malcolm McDowell and Mary Steenburgen, pre-Ted Danson years. Yes, that union happened.

Jim Gaffigan: Comedy Monster on Netflix. Jim Gaffigan is the new Andy Rooney, but younger, less grumpy/curmudgeonly and more enjoyable He is also arguably more PG when compared to other comedians hence can be watched with the whole family, which I really appreciate. As such, he’s perfect for my family. In this special, he tackles the pandemic (“What’s a symptom of COVID-19? Everything? Are you denying the pandemic? Oh that’s a symptom.”), family vacation to Hawaii (“It was that or a divorce.”), billionaires who create excuses to go to space, marching bands, bikers, etc. While it’s not a 10/10. It’s a 6.5 and that feels just right. A special thanks to my kiddo for recommending as a family we watch it. She recognized we could all do with a laugh or two. Such a smartie, that girl.

Ms. Fisher's Modern Mysteries on Acorn TV. If this show sounds familiar, it’s because I’ve written before about the popular show, Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries in my Aussie shows you can’t afford to miss post. Phryne Fisher, who is the heroine in the prior Miss Fisher series is the aunt of our 60’s heroine, Peregrine Fisher, who also has inherited a hunkering for solving good mysteries, great fashion, taste in cars, bold, ahead-of-her times thinking, and handsome detectives. I got a free trial of Acorn TV for a week and binged season 2 in 2 days.

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A movie that didn’t do it for me but admittedly haven’t finished all 2:18 hours of it:

Don’t Look Up on Netflix. I just couldn’t get into the much touted new Adam McKay (former Will Ferrell production partner, and producer of The Big Short and Vice) vehicle on global warming, masked in this satire, as a giant comet, 9 km-long, hurling at Earth with a doomsday date 6 months and X number of days into the future. While I enjoy Leonardo DiCaprio and Jennifer Lawrence’s Michigan State astronomy nerds who get it right and really all the deadpan scene-stealing scenes with Jonah Hill as the President Meryl Streep’s son and his catfighting chemistry with Lawrence and amusing, I couldn’t wrap my head around this being a 2+ hour movie. An hour and half in and I was calling defeat on this. However, if you watch and feel differently I welcome the counterpoint. After all, it’s ranking as #1 on the Top 10 on Netflix so maybe I’m missing something.

Honorable Mention:

Joan Didion: The Center will Not Hold on Netflix. Only because it’s Joan Didion, she recently passed, and for that 1.5 hours, it transports us a bit back to the 50’s-00’s to immerse ourselves in Joan Didion: her life, her ethos and character. It was produced by her nephew, Griffin Dunne, with her full participation. Her facial expressions and gestures, amidst the advanced Parkinson’s, also, at times, act to reveal more than her words. She’s careful and meticulous about what she chooses to share verbally and reticent so it’s really thru her body that more is told.

Random trivia: Joan Didion knew early on that writing was to be her calling. As the trailer here shows, she was given a notebook by her mom at a young age and she just started to fill it up. Didion claimed that she learned how to write by typing out the stories of Ernest Hemingway, who was to be a major influence throughout her writing career.