Summer TV Binge: SENSE8

Let’s just get this out there: I really fucking liked this show.

I first heard about Sense8 from a podcast in which it was talked over briefly as one of Netflix’s new series. Honestly, I didn’t even know they had new series, other than Daredevil, but apparently they did. Then I heard of a couple of friends who’d watched it. When I started going into Netflix for my Sherlock and OITNB binges, I noticed it there in their Original Programming list and decided to earmark it. My husband was away and checked out the first episode (letting me know it was NOT fit for child consumption, by the way), and I cemented my decision for it to be the next show I ventured into.

To be sure, the beginning is a little rough. We’re in some weird location and Daryl Hannah is filthy and crazy and odd shit is going on, and if I didn’t know the premise of the story going in — that there will be eight primary characters in the series who can share each other’s minds, abilities and feelings, in addition to being able to have telepathic conversations with one another and to take over each other’s bodies — I would’ve been lost. It’s a lot to follow. And for the first couple episodes, it’s almost too much. There are too many characters and everything is sort of scattered and the purpose and intent of these people and all the different events in their lives is unclear to say the least. By episode three, however, things start to rapidly fall into place, and I was glued to the action.

Sense8 works best when the players are interacting, and in episode three when Sun (Doona Bae) shows up to help Capheus (Aml Ameen) fight off some dangerous guys, it’s a really exciting moment. And as the action and the conspiracy or whatever it is to silence the sensates comes to light and more and more the sensates are called upon to help their brothers and sisters, the moments only get more and more exciting — especially as they all become more accustomed to and accepting of these new abilities and their new brethren. The more and more they interact, the better the show gets, and the moments when they are all connected together — singing “What’s Going On,” the scene in the orchestra with the memories of their births, and the rescue of Riley (Tuppence Middleton) from that nefarious Icelandic facility — are the high points, emotional and affecting and thrilling to a fault. Even just scenes when many are involved, like Sun and Will (Brian J. Smith) and Capheus helping Nomi (Jamie Clayton) escape the police, or the fireworks, or that unbelievably hot sex scene, are ballsy and cool and fearless. Not everything works, particularly concerning whatever nefarious forces are hunting them or the logic behind it, but it really doesn’t matter. Sense8 swings for the fences, and that’s the way you hit home runs. Sense8 hits a lot of home runs.

On top of all the amazing things the show does with plot, it’s also one of the most diverse and interesting casts ever in a TV series. And not just in the even split of men and women among the group, or their races or countries of origin, but in who they are and what they do. One of my favorite moments is when Riley asks Capheus if they’re in Africa and he scoffs, “Africa?? Kenya. Nairobi.” Because not all Africa is the same thing. And when asked about big TVs in the ghettos, he plainly states that a bed in the ghetto simply means you wake up in the ghetto, but a TV can take you anywhere.

As my husband said, the characters all feel very authentic, and no one is a joke or a caricature. Nomi is transgender and fought a huge battle to get herself there, while Lito (Miguel Angel Silvestre) is secretly gay in a world where he’s sure his homosexuality will ruin his career (though neither character’s life is treated as outlandish or mocked in any way). Sun and Kala (Tina Desai) are trying desperately to be good daughters. Wolfgang (Max Riemelt) and Will are disappointing sons. Capheus lives in a deadly dangerous environment. And Riley has suffered a past more painful than anyone should ever endure. And yet it’s comforting and more than a little reassuring for each of them to know the others are out there, whether to simply lend an ear or a shoulder to cry on or to literally help save them from peril. They all have strengths, they all have weaknesses, they are all capable, and they all falter. They’re all so incredibly different, but also very much members of the same human experience.

The advantages of being on Netflix, for a show like Sense8, are innumerable. It’s able to be graphic and bold, and Netflix has a lot of room to be experimental with the kind of content it produces. Episode length can also vary as needed — not significantly, but if a few extra minutes are needed here or there, it’s not an issue — and almost nothing is off-limits. The births scene, in particular, is incredibly graphic and unexpected, but also amazing and fearless. It’s not exploitative, but it’s also not shy. Same goes for the sex scenes and the nudity. And the finale is fucking badass. For a pair like the Wachowskis, who blew away the entire world with the work they did on The Matrix, this feels like a return to innovative, compelling form. I hope to see many more seasons of it.

Sense8 is available exclusively on Netflix.

MY MOVIE SHELF: Kill Bill, Vol. 2

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 40 Days to go: 30

Movie #400:  Kill Bill, Vol. 2

I admit to being slightly disappointed by Kill Bill, Vol. 2 when it first came out. Vol. 1 was so kinetic and alive, bursting with energy, that the much more subdued Vol. 2 came off as almost dull. It felt as if the magic had bled completely away, leaving a far weaker followup than anticipated. However, over the years the two films have been shown back to back pretty often on television, and between that and owning the discs, I’ve rarely watched one without the other. This, it seems, is the key to fully appreciating both films not just as individual pieces but as a complete piece. Filmed as one single project, the decision to split into two films came much later in the process than one would normally expect, and given the naturally speculative tenor of most industry business, it was easy to assume the reasons were simply Tarantino’s inability (or unwillingness) to trim the film into a more contained, palatable piece. But what if the reason for the split was actually to accentuate the change in tone? What if the pace intentionally slowed as the Death List Five got into more tortured territory and the specter of a still-living baby (unknown to Uma Thurman’s Black Mamba) hovered over the proceedings?

One indication that this might, in fact, be the case, is the abandonment of a non-linear structure. Vol. 1 doesn’t occur chronologically. It starts at the inciting incident, moves ahead to #2 on Black Mamba’s list (Vernita Green, played by Vivica A. Fox), goes back to when she was in the hospital and how she got out, inserts an animated biography of O-ren Ishii (Lucy Liu), then returns to Black Mamba escaping the hospital parking lot in the Pussy Wagon and moves forward from there, going to Okinawa for her samurai sword and then to Tokyo to kill O-ren, which more or less closes the film.

Vol. 2, however, is almost entirely chronological, only in flashback. It starts off with Beatrix (Black Mamba’s real name) driving to her final destination — to finally have it out with Bill (David Carradine). She then recounts the tale starting with the Massacre at Two Pines that started it all and moving forward past the events of Vol. 1 to the whereabouts of Budd (Michael Madsen) and her eventual encounter with him. This tale features another flashback (within this original, larger flashback), but only as it relates to the situation she finds herself in. Then there’s the arrival of Elle (Daryl Hannah), followed by Elle’s own version of vengeance before being immediately humiliated herself. And then Beatrix meets up with Esteban (Michael Parks) to get Bill’s location, bringing us all the way to where we met her at the beginning of the film, at which point it carries forward through her battle with him and her reunion with her daughter. It’s very deliberate and straightforward, never veering back or coming from another angle, as if the events of Vol. 1 had a distance to them, and could therefore be told with immediacy and in a thrilling manner, but the events of Vol. 2 were still unfolding as we were discovering them, allowing little time for embellishments, just the opportunity to tell things as they happened.

Another way the films differ is in their stylistic influences. Much of Vol. 1 carries the torch for Japanese film and culture, whereas an entire chapter of Vol. 2 is reminiscent of one of those old Chinese Kung Fu movies my stepfather liked to watch when I was a kid. (Indeed it is that sequence, occurring as part of that flashback within a flashback, that has clearly been pondered and mused about before, making it the most stylized section of the film — it has more distance to it.) And the parts that aren’t reminiscent of Chinese film influences bear a striking resemblance to Westerns, with buck shot and dusty graves and double-crosses. Budd even wears a ten-gallon hat. These two styles go together surprisingly well, but would undoubtedly clash against the glossy sheen of Vernita’s picture perfect existence or O-ren’s costumed gangsters. That clash might feel muddled in a single film, but in two separate films it feels purposeful and important.

The fights this time around are similarly important, because, in actuality, Beatrix doesn’t kill either Budd or Elle. Elle is furious with Budd for burying Beatrix alive (once again, she doesn’t necessarily run over her foes — Budd gets the drop on her but good), considering it an undeservedly ignoble end for such a talented warrior. Elle might hate Beatrix, but she knows a good assassin when she sees one, and a screw-up like Budd has no right to kill a force like Beatrix. So Elle kills Budd to get him back. And then Beatrix returns, and she and Elle have an amazing battle, both hampered and enhanced by the close quarters of Budd’s trailer. Then, as they lock swords and Beatrix is face to face with the former partner she hated the most, she pulls out Elle’s other eye and leaves her flailing in the ruins of what used to be Budd’s bathroom. With a Black Mamba loose in the other room. It’s not a coup de grace, but then again, Beatrix doesn’t care enough about Elle to kill her outright, and that’s a major distinction. It’s much more satisfying to wreak revenge by leaving Elle hobbled and exposed, at the mercy of whatever may befall her. It gives her the exact ignoble end Elle so hated Beatrix to have, which speaks volumes of their rivalry.

Then there’s also the matter of the almost loving, friendly encounter she has with Bill when she discovers their daughter is still alive. She listens sweetly, soaking in every ounce of her daughter’s history as she possibly can, but it doesn’t change her resolve. She loves Bill, has always loved Bill, but what he did to her was unforgivable and he must pay the price for it. She tells him the story of the day she discovered she was pregnant — the day she disappeared — and how that knowledge changed her entire outlook. Some may call this out of character for a killer like Beatrix, but I think it speaks more of her character. The women in Kill Bill are not all the same, even though they are all assassins (even the rival gang’s assassin who comes to kill Beatrix is a woman). They share the same occupation, but they make different choices and lead different lives and have different priorities, just as six different women working at the same office would, just as six different attorneys would, just as six different mechanics would. Just as any six different people would.

That insistence on individuality in their characters makes Beatrix’s choices truly her own and therefore more relatable as plausible and valid reactions to the situation she found herself in. The key to drawing fully realized women characters is not to steer away from every available female stereotype, but rather to make sure the choices each woman makes are her choices for her reasons. Both Kill Bill films do that exceptionally well.

MY MOVIE SHELF: Kill Bill, Vol. 1

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 41 Days to go: 30

Movie #399:  Kill Bill, Vol. 1

Consider the roles of women in action films. More often than not, they are the victims, the abducted, the ones needing to be avenged. Or they are on the sidelines, there to humanize the hero or give him a moral center or simply be a token of all he has to live for. Even in films where this is not the overall case, it’s still present. And even with formidable women like Black Widow of The Avengers, her story lines are often lacking in depth or any serious exploration. That is not the case with Kill Bill.

Kill Bill is an extraordinary revenge picture, heavily stylized with flashes of inspiration sowed from various spheres of influence, in which women play huge, complex, fascinating roles. There is the main character of The Bride (Uma Thurman), who is on a deadly quest for vengeance, but there are also the women she is after: O-ren Ishii (Lucy Liu), Vernita Green (Vivica A. Fox), and Elle Driver (Daryl Hannah). And if you count O-ren’s top lieutenants, Gogo (Chiaki Kuriyama) and Sophie (Julie Dreyfus), almost all the dominant characters are women. The only exceptions are Budd (Michael Madsen), who really doesn’t appear in earnest until Vol. 2, Hattori Hanzo (Sonny Chiba), who is a marginalized character at best (we know he has a past with Bill, but we don’t know what it is), and, of course, Bill (David Carradine), whose face is never seen in Vol. 1 and who has no more identity in this film than any other shadowy and mysterious villain. Bill might be the object of The Bride’s quest, but Kill Bill, Vol. 1 is a showcase for all the women around him.

The Bride is a phenomenal character, not only because she’s a deadly force, but because she’s also a mother, and instead of being a woman who is only dangerous because her child was attacked, The Bride was a killer beforehand. By that measure, her character is allowed to be maternal and merciless. When she confronts Vernita — a woman who is similarly lethal outside of her domestic and motherly appearance — The Bride (AKA Black Mamba — her real name won’t be revealed until Vol. 2) makes it clear she has no desire to traumatize Vernita’s daughter, but that doesn’t deter her from her mission. When the little girl does happen to see her mother killed, Black Mamba makes it clear: “You can take my word for it, your mother had it coming.” There’s no mistaking the rules that govern these woman — rules of payback and retribution that are devoid of emotion — and yet the love and care they express for their children is so strong, the juxtaposition of the two makes for more fully realized, rounded characters.

And just as some women are nurturers, others are not. Elle Driver is unfeeling and unsympathetic. She’s an adversary of Black Mamba’s, and not an overly respectful one. She hates Black Mamba, and she’s jealous of the affection Bill has for her. O-ren, too, has little time for mothering, instead choosing her path as a child to avenge her parents’ deaths, to become an assassin, and eventually to run a Japanese crime syndicate filled with assassins. O-ren is a leader and a business person — governed by emotion only when someone brings up her American or Chinese heritage as a negative, at which point she will “collect your fucking head.” But while O-ren is unsympathetic toward Black Mamba, and relishes sending her underlings to “tear the bitch apart,” there’s a definite underlying sense of past friendship between the two women. There’s a smirk shared between them when Black Mamba dispatches the first group only to hear the second wave coming. O-ren asks if Black Mamba really thought it would be that easy, and Black Mamba says she kind of did. And then they share the line, “Silly rabbit. Trix are for kids.” It’s playful, and it’s indicative of there being more than just animosity between them. Not that it changes the task at hand, but it lends greater shades to the characters, to who they were before the massacre. Perhaps that’s why O-ren gets a beautifully rendered Japanese animation origin story, chronicling her tragic past and rise to the top.

The final battle with O-ren (which actually occurs first, as we see when Black Mamba goes to see Vernita, because Tarantino likes nonlinear stories and because the fight against O-ren is more dramatic and impactful, narrative-wise) is also a beautiful scene, stylistically. Music cues go in and out, dropping off completely when the action is slow and contemplative, leaving the only sound a rhythmic thumping of a wooden water feature in the snow-covered garden of their battle. It’s so far removed from the frenetic and sort of artificial look of Vernita’s dollhouse home, or the garish display of Black Mamba’s recently acquired Pussy Wagon sitting out front.

Incidentally, the way she acquires that Pussy Wagon is fantastic, in that immediately after she wakes up from a coma she destroys a couple of rapists without blinking an eye (and also without the use of her legs). But Black Mamba is not invincible. Vernita catches her off-guard with the Kaboom! cereal. O-ren seriously wounds her with her twin katanas before finding out Black Mamba really is sporting a Hattori Hanzo sword. And Gogo very nearly chokes her to death with her mace chain. All of Black Mamba’s battles are devastating and destructive, in point of fact, but they are also incredibly evenly matched. This is not about a super soldier decimating everything in her path, but about a deadly woman going up against other deadly assassins and seeing who emerges victorious. It’s about a woman with nothing left to lose.

Of course, then Bill gut punches us all with his final line. “Is she aware her daughter is still alive?” She’ll find out soon enough, Bill.

Up next: The rest of the Death List Five.

MY MOVIE SHELF: Steel Magnolias

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 168  Days to go: 119

Movie #270:  Steel Magnolias

“Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion.”

When Steel Magnolias came out, that’s how I would describe it to people. How, one second I’m crying my eyes out and the next I’m dying of laughter, and how amazingly great that was. It was really the first time a movie had elicited that kind of bold physical reaction from me, and I’d be hard pressed to think of even a handful that have come out since that could do it even half as well. Steel Magnolias is a rare gem.

The story of six women living in Louisiana, Steel Magnolias feels like home to me. My mother’s family is from the deep south, and growing up we spent several weeks there every summer and sometimes in the winter as well. These people are my people. The characters of Steel Magnolias are people I recognize, with familiar habits and personalities and lifestyles. The gathering together of food to care for people who are suffering a hardship is commonplace. The catty but not malicious gossiping about everyone in town is just as common. The blending of church and community, of town functions and socializing at the beauty parlor are all rituals I’ve both witnessed and taken part in. That kind of authenticity and familiarity really helps bring the movie to life.

It’s often labeled a chick flick, as if that’s something to scoff at, but Steel Magnolias lifts up female relationships in a beautiful way. When Shelby (Julia Roberts) faces several health scares throughout the film, Truvy (Dolly Parton), Ouiser (Shirley MacLaine), Clairee (Olympia Dukakis) and Annelle (Daryl Hannah) are there for Shelby and her mother M’Lynne (Sally Field). Whether it’s to tell a joke or give a hug or just to grasp a hand in solidarity, these women support each other through all the ups and downs that come in life. Through laughter and tears and everything in between, these women stick together and build each other up.

I have to say, I never really related to Shelby the way I suppose I probably should have when I was younger. There’s an arrogance of youth that perpetuates the idea that nothing bad will ever befall them, and no one will ever die. I had that same arrogance, I swear, but Shelby always struck me as selfish and stubborn. She was also inordinately difficult toward M’Lynne, but perhaps that’s just part of the nature of mothers and daughters. I have been inordinately difficult with my own mother from time to time, and she remains the one person in the world who can drive me crazy at the drop of a hat. Still, Shelby and new husband Jackson (Dylan McDermott) both seemed so in-the-moment, unaware of risks and consequences and mortality. That’s always been sad to me, and one of many reason why I’ve always felt compassion toward M’Lynne.

I’ve always felt for Truvy, too, whose husband Spud (Sam Shepard) was always distant and rarely showed his love for her, even though it was always there. And I’ve loved Clairee’s color and humor and her desire to make everything more enjoyable. I’ve even commiserated for Annelle, who enters the film sort of lost and spends the vast majority of it trying to find her place. But most of all, I love Ouiser, because she and I share the same misanthropic tendencies, though I do openly love a lot more things than she does.

Steel Magnolias is full of important life lessons for any woman to internalize. Never have a groom’s cake at your wedding if it looks like a bleeding animal. Never allow your husband to shoot birds out of your trees. Listen to doctors when they tell you things. When someone screams they want to hit something, offer them up a hated individual. Tell people you love them more than your luggage, even if nobody knows what it’s supposed to mean. And most importantly, get someone to do calisthenics for you if you’re ever in a coma. (I would add that this person also be in charge of your leg shaving. It’s very important to have a girlfriend for this purpose. If I am ever in a coma, dear God, someone shave my legs for me.)

Also, always always always have a group of girlfriends you can count on. In many ways, they will be some of the most important relationships in your life.