2014-15 TV SEASON: HBO's half-hour lineup is looking better and better

/HBO

There’s not a more consistently-excellent lineup of half-hours on a network than at HBO.

HBO will be launching the second seasons of Getting On and The Comeback, both of which have a lot to live up to. Last television season, despite the news that Christopher Guest, Stephen Merchant and Mike Judge all had new comedies coming to the pay-cable network, it was a little hospital-set series from the creators of Big Love that really landed, creatively-speaking. Getting On earned little-to-no promotion and arrived with very little fanfare, yet its raucous comedy and warm-heartedness worked beautifully from start to finish. And The Comeback, the Lisa Kudrow vehicle that premiered in 2005 to mixed reviews and was canceled after its debut season, is roaring back a decade later. Cringe-inducing and uncomfortable as it may be, The Comeback is a brilliant show-business satire with a never-better Kudrow as its awkward, hilarious anchor – and if early teasers are any indication, it hasn’t lost any of its edge despite the years that have passed.

Other than that, HBO is currently working on the fourth seasons of Veep, by a mile the best straight-up comedy on television – also featuring Julia Louis-Dreyfus in one of the medium’s best continuing performances, regardless of genre – and Girls, which fluctuates in quality but always presents a distinct worldview and fresh, vital perspectives on youth and friendship. And while I had some issues with the debut seasons of Silicon Valley and (especially) Looking, they have loads of potential and finished strong (and other critics are even warmer to them). We did lose the two-season wonder that was Mike White’s Enlightened last year – absolutely that year’s best season of television – but with everything else the network has going, it’s easily forgivable. (Sidenote: I’ll have a lot more written up on all of these shows in our end-of-year report.)

Today, HBO put in motion two potential half-hour series, ordering a project from Kari Lizer (creator of The New Adventures of Old Christine) and Kyra Sedgwick (Emmy-winning star of The Closer) and a follow-up pilot from White. Lizer has sold nearly a dozen pilots to networks since Old Christine went off the air in 2010, but not one has made it to series. Old Christine was ridiculously-underappreciated, the kind of broadly-hilarious and quietly-incisive multi-camera comedy that has been astonishingly rare throughout this new century. Lizer is a little too smart and oddball for where network comedy is right now – if you want to know where that is, read Andy Greenwald’s fantastic piece here – so her switching over to HBO (new home of fellow too-smart-for-network-TV artist Louis-Dreyfus, who superbly top-lined Old Christine) is great news. And White, who’s already written one of the decade’s best shows and has so many other terrific, underappreciated works under his belt (including standout episodes of Freaks and Geeks and a great film in Year of the Dog) is someone I wanted on television sooner rather than later. Let’s hope these projects turn out as strong as their pedigrees suggest, and that they make it to air.

Next week, we’ll be writing about the return of The Comeback and Getting On, as well as an HBO miniseries we’re very excited for, Olive Kitteridge.

News /Deadline

Discussion on THE LEFTOVERS, Season 1

Ann Dowd (HBO)

This isn’t The Road or Children of Men; this isn’t 1984 or The Hunger Games (I hate to make the comparison, but its relevant nonetheless). Its depiction of the post-apocalyptic is far less exaggerated – only 2% of the population has disappeared – which allows the show to tackle issues of life and death, love and loss, without making this a story about survival in the immediate and explosive way we understand the genre. The Leftovers is about the capacity of the human being – after tragedy has struck – to survive; and more than that, the brilliant premise allows these feelings of loss and tragedy to be a part of the collective experience of a town in New York – Mapleton.  

I’m not giving an in-depth review of The Leftovers – David’s doing this already -- but I want to offer my thoughts on what I thought was a fascinating, often wonderful show. Sure, it had flaws. I didn’t always enjoy trudging through certain plotlines. But I’m happy with the way “The Prodigal Son Returns” concluded, with Nora Durst (Carrie Coon) picking up the child on the doorstep and exclaiming, “Look what I found!” It’s an amazing final punch – not too dramatic or showy – as it allows you to finish this chapter of the Mapleton story with a gratifying sense of closure. You might not know what’s next – but I’m satisfied knowing Nora Durst finds rebirth in really looking at this innocent child and discovering there is always room for hope – even though, as Wayne told her during the conference, hope is the reason Nora is in so much pain.

The show worked best when it committed itself to its characters motivations, not in an obvious I’m-going-to-throw-at-the-audience-needless-exposition-way, but as way to maneuver flawed characters in an equally fractured and broken world. They have been forced to inhabit the earth when it has so plainly told them, “I have the power to take you when I want. You are powerless.” How the characters struggle with this is what makes the moral implications of the show quite engaging.

Certain episodes explored these issues better than others. “Two Boats and a Helicopter,” was the strongest episode of the season (the one where the priest really does not want to lose the church). “Gladys” (Guilty Remnant-heavy, in which Patti [Anne Dowd] has a meltdown in the diner), “Guest” (Nora Durst at the conference), and “Cairo” (Patti v. Kevin Garvey episode) were the second-strongest episodes of The Leftovers. And while “The Prodigal Son Returns” had the strongest moments of the show for me (Nora Durst encountering her plastic family neatly returned to her and breaking down), it was plagued with some of the subplots of the show I didn’t find nearly as compelling i.e. most of the stuff with Wayne, and everything with Tom.

Other than that, the Garvey-centered episodes were hit-and-miss. The first two episodes were pretty average - nothing to write home about. 'BJ and AC' - the episode HBO didn't send to critics - was a flat-out mess as it was tonally inconsistent and poorly structured. They switched directors midway through which might explain it, but there was something off about that episode which didn't make it any fun to watch. But “The Garvey’s At Their Best” epitomized the show at its most terrible: watching that episode unfortunately made me want to unsubscribe from HBOGO and cry myself to sleep, as it delegitimized so much of the show’s subtlety and expert craftsmanship. Seriously! They threw every expositional detail at you to make sure you understood how the characters got to where they are. What an insult! Ingrain it into the show, don’t throw at us in a flashback episode.

Carrie Coon (HBO)

But back to the good: Ann Dowd, Amy Brenneman and Carrie Coon are giving the season’s best performances. Patti’s suicide made me sad, mainly because she was my favorite character – despite her tertiary presence - and because her suicide made me understand that the show wasn’t interested in providing me with a rich character study of Patti. Instead the Guilty Remnant is dedicated – maybe too dedicated – to making the citizens of Mapleton feel the pain of the departure, so much so that they become immune to their own past and desires to find happiness. It worked, but going deep into Patti’s motivations and desires could have made for more fascinating viewing – instead, I get from the flashback episode that she was a sick woman who took advantage of a national tragedy. Whoopee!

Laurie Garvey (Brenneman) performs The Leftovers’ most morally reprehensible act by allowing her daughter to take part in replacing each citizens’ disappeared loved ones’ with dolls – (it explains why they took pictures, but not how they were able to all sneak in) It places Jill in the throes of unspeakable danger and shows how Laurie’s maternal instincts – along with 2% of the population – have disintegrated. Chaos ensues, the Mayor tells Kevin Garvey, “You were right,” when he returns from killing Patti and we’re presented with a city consumed by the fires, the grief, the fanaticism and the a lack of leadership we have seen from the beginning.

(As a side note, Christopher Eccleston as the priest is phenomenal as well, but he becomes rather cursory as the season goes on, his episode being more of a Twilight-Zone morality tale than a rich characterization to complement the plot’s unfolding.)

I was most frustrated when the show wouldn’t care about plot – in its deliberate POV episodes, for example – and then when it all of a sudden cared about the plot too much, furthering things rather than allowing the audience to contemplate the moral questions its characters raised. It was better in its simpler moments because - when characters were introduced like Maggie Abbot - the writing wasn't able to juggle season archs successfully. And maybe I’m wrestling with the choice to place Justin Theroux in lead, as whatever he was doing was way less interesting than the show as its best moments. Overall, the lack of consistency was irksome.

Amy Brenneman (HBO)

Nonetheless, “The Leftovers” – at its best – is drama of the highest caliber. For a show merely in its first season, this is a true accomplishment. The show is almost like the Sistine Chapel – Michelangelo’s masterpiece, which the credits replicate quite powerfully. We’re looking at God creating man, Jesus resurrecting from death, while simultaneously contemplating the horror and grandiosity of ‘The Last Judgment’ where some people make it to heaven and others are left to burn in hell.  And, in "The Leftovers", hell is Mapleton. "The Leftovers" pushes the envelope of the absurd dilemma, and forces its characters - in its best moments - to confront an existence that no longer makes sense and to make sense of an ever-mysterious and gradually unfolding existence. This is where the thematic richness of the show is - when it committed to this, "The Leftovers," was a success. I’m looking forward to its second season and think it’s simply going to get better; its premise, fascinating ideas and strong elements are ingrained into what the show is and can become. 

Episode Grades:

‘Pilot’ and ‘Penguin One, Us Zero’: B -

‘Two Boats and Helicopter’: A

‘BJ and AC’: C

‘Gladys’ and ‘Guest’: A –

‘Solace for Tired Feet’: B+

‘Cairo’: B

‘The Garvey’s at Their Best’: D (Perhaps reactionary, but I hated it that much)

‘The Prodigal Son Returns’: A-

David wasn't as big a fan; his review is here.

Television review: THE LEFTOVERS, season 1

Oscar predictions 2014: STATE OF THE RACE, October 27

/Variety

Interstellar is not the Oscar movie pundits were hoping it would be.

Reviews for Christopher Nolan’s hotly-anticipated sci-fi epic dropped this morning, and the consensus is positive with an equal amount of raves and outright dismissals on either side of it. But for Nolan, embracer of the blockbuster and frequent cold-shoulder victim of Oscar, a “positive” consensus won’t be enough for a Best Picture win. Maybe not even a Best Director nomination.

With the premiere of Interstellar – it’ll be released in theatres next week – the only potential contenders yet to be seen are Ava DuVernay’s Selma, Clint Eastwood’s American Sniper and Anjelina Jolie’s Unbroken (J.C. Chandor’s A Most Violent Year and Rob Marshall’s Into the Woods will be low-level Best Picture nominees at best, and at worst will find themselves snubbed across the board). Many have lined up behind Jolie’s Unbroken – and with Interstellar being dropped from the “potential winner” conversation, more are likely to follow – but, even with the Coen Brothers on script duties and Roger Deakins lensing the pic, it feels very premature. Jolie’s only directorial effort to date, the documentary In the Land of Blood and Honey, was not very well-received. And it sounds like she’s going for the same level of gore and brutality that many critics already pushed back against for Blood and Honey. As for Selma, it’s a very late entrant that will need both good box office and exceptional reviews to propel it to the top – quite a challenging feat that, by the way, also goes for Eastwood’s American Sniper.

Right now, three films that have screened and/or have been released – The Imitation Game, Boyhood and Birdman – are way out front in the Best Picture race and are the only ones with a shot to win. But they’re all extremely atypical. Boyhood was released back in the summer and couldn’t even cross $30 million; it’d be the second-lowest grossing winner ever, behind 2009’s The Hurt Locker. In the way that Hurt Locker had history on its side – Kathryn Bigelow became the first female to win the directing prize – Boyhood’s hitherto untested approach to filmmaking gives it a boost. And that says nothing of its critical acclaim; it’s all but sure to dominate critics’ prizes beginning in a month or so. But it’s still a small indie that didn’t land with quite the box office splash that The Grand Budapest Hotel did, or for that matter, Birdman did.

Birdman is being discredited as a serious contender because it embraces oddity and comedy – two qualities rarely associated with Oscar winners. But it has a lot going for it. It’s a technical breakthrough in cinema – and there’s no shortage of critics and cinephiles writing at length about that very fact – and so, despite its humorous edge, it boasts that necessary elitist appeal. Moreover, critical acclaim is pretty much off the charts, and its box office performance has been sterling (and looks like it’ll have legs). But, in terms of awards, what could really drive Birdman is its accessibly satirical look at the industry and artists. Hollywood-focused films have great success with Oscar, and Birdman arrives with a critique just sharp enough to feel fresh, and just soft enough to attract large groups of voters. Oh, and that killer cast has to be a frontrunner for Best Ensemble at the Screen Actors Guild Awards – another important Oscar precursor.

The Imitation Game feels like the Oscar movie of the bunch – a sweeping, nicely-dressed period biopic with a mammoth performance at its center – but it’ll have to do better with critics than it has thus far. If it were to, it’d probably be the frontrunner; the only other element in its path, really, is similar triumph-heavy biopics entering the race like Unbroken and The Theory of Everything. As the race intensifies, this Benedict Cumberbatch vehicle will need to find a way to stand out from the pack. It’s already won a few Best Picture prizes – from the Toronto and Hamptons film festivals – so, thus far, it’s done a good-enough job in that department.

Next come our lower-level contenders, whose place in the race really depends on how many sight-unseen contenders successfully land – they are The Theory of Everything, Foxcatcher, Whiplash, Gone Girl, The Grand Budapest Hotel and, in more of a longshot mode, Mr. Turner. That’s 10 films, counting Interstellar and the three discussed above, and not counting the 3-5 possible players we have yet to see. In other words, it’s all but guaranteed that these films won’t all make it in. Mr. Turner is a very small pic that’s struggled to keep itself in the conversation, while Grand Budapest premiered so long ago that, despite its robust box office and critical adoration, a Best Pic nod will be a tough climb. Looking the best, in this pundit’s eyes, are The Theory of Everything – critical acclaim is low, but it’s a classic Oscar pic sure to get attention for its actors and technical achievements – and the critically-beloved indie Whiplash, which dominated Sundance in January and has come roaring back. I like the chances of Foxcatcher more than Gone Girl; both have been cited as being a little outside Academy tastes, but early indications are that Foxcatcher has the critics behind it more forcefully. Gone Girl is the box office hit of the year, as far as Oscar contenders go, so it can’t be ruled out either.

Below is the first set of weekly predictions for the Academy Awards (ranked in order of likelihood to be nominated). I’ve written a little bit about each of the acting contenders, since I didn’t get a chance to discuss them in this space.

Best Picture

1.   Boyhood

2.   The Imitation Game

3.   Birdman

4.   The Theory of Everything

5.   Unbroken (pending)

6.   Foxcatcher

7.   Interstellar

8.   Whiplash

9.   Gone Girl

10.   The Grand Budapest Hotel

11.   Selma (pending)

12.   American Sniper (pending)

13.   Into the Woods (pending)

14.   A Most Violent Year (pending)

Best Director

1.   Alejandro González-Inarritu for Birdman

2.   Richard Linklater for Boyhood

3.   Morten Tyldum for The Imitation Game

4.   Anjelina Jolie for Unbroken

5.   Bennett Miller for Foxcatcher

6.   Ava DuVernay for Selma

7.   Christopher Nolan for Interstellar

8.   Damien Chazelle for Whiplash

9.   Clint Eastwood for American Sniper

Best Actor

1.   Benedict Cumberbatch for The Imitation Game: Uniformly terrific reviews for the newly-minted Emmy winner in a Best Picture frontrunner.

2.   Eddie Redmayne for The Theory of Everything: His transformative turn as Stephen Hawking is the kind of role that begs – and earns – Oscar attention.

3.   Michael Keaton for Birdman: This performance isn’t typical Oscar fare, but as Birdman raises its stock, Keaton’s comeback narrative looks better and better.

4.   Steve Carell for Foxcatcher: Carell’s jarring turn from comedy to drama was met with raves, and will certainly be embraced if voters go for the film. If they don’t? We’ll see.

5.   Matthew McConaughey for Interstellar: McConaughey has earned across-the-board raves for this performance, and he stands out among everything beyond the top four that’s been seen.

6.   Timothy Spall for Mr. Turner: It’s a beloved performance, one that won Cannes Best Actor prize – but eyeballs need to stay on the film.

7.   David Oyelowo for Selma: Oyelowo, in the conversation last year for The Butler, has excellent advanced word coming in on him for his work as MLK.

8.   Bradley Cooper for American Sniper: He’s been nominated the past two years, and a short trailer indicated Cooper is once again giving it his all.

9.   Oscar Isaac for A Most Violent Year: Fresh off of a Gotham nomination and with a lot of momentum, Isaac may just squeeze into the conversation.

Best Actress

1.   Julianne Moore for Still Alice: She is, at this point, the unchallenged frontrunner: she brings the overdue narrative and a reportedly shattering performance to a relatively thin category.

2.   Reese Witherspoon for Wild: It’s one of the few (female) star vehicles this year to earn uniformly strong reviews for the performer in question and to receive a decent Oscar campaign.

3.   Rosamund Pike for Gone Girl: Assuming voters don’t totally pass this film over, Pike’s wild breakout turn is probably enough for a nomination in this field.

4.   Felicity Jones for The Theory of Everything: She plays second banana to Redmayne and hasn’t really cracked Hollywood yet, but buzz on this performance is incredibly high.

5.   Amy Adams for Big Eyes: Test screenings for the film aren’t going well, but Adams has a baity part and has earned three nominations in four years.

6.   Jessica Chastain for A Most Violent Year: A24 is still considering dropping Chastain to supporting. There’s also not much news on this hotly-anticipated performance.

7.   Emily Blunt for Into the Woods: The role won a Tony on Broadway. Despite a string of great performances, Blunt is nomination-less to date. Can she shake up the race?

8.   Mia Wasikowska for Tracks: It’s a small movie and often-silent performance, but Wasikowska is a fast-rising star in the industry. Her Gotham nomination puts her on the right track, but it’s a long road.

9.   Hilary Swank for The Homesman: Swank earned solid reviews for her arguably-supporting performance in a movie Oscar isn’t likely to go for.

Best Supporting Actor

1.   J.K. Simmons for Whiplash: This fearsome turn from the long-respected character actor has Oscar written all over it.

2.   Edward Norton for Birdman: It’s an audacious, physically-committed performance that has been a source of praise in many Birdman reviews. The film is doing well; he looks pretty secure.

3.   Mark Ruffalo for Foxcatcher: Ruffalo’s physical transformation and sturdy performance in Foxcatcher has been considered a strong bet for a while now. But his work is a bit subtle – new contenders could overtake him.

4.   Tim Wilkinson for Selma: The Oscar nominee and Emmy winner has a prominent role as LBJ in Selma. It’s a great role for a highly-respected actor, very likely to get recognized if he’s got enough to do.

5.   Miyavi for Unbroken: The Japanese musician is reportedly the breakout of Unbroken. It’s a performance being compared to Ralph Fiennes in Schindler’s List. If this is the Oscar film pundits think it is, he’s a near-lock.

6.   Ethan Hawke for Boyhood: Hawke is immensely appealing in Boyhood, but short on screen time and impact. He’ll need to withstand a wave of as-yet-unseen contenders.

7.   Josh Brolin for Inherent Vice: Critics have made clear that he’s got the screen time, and the performance to back it up. Recently, however, contenders in films otherwise snubbed by Oscar have had a much tougher time getting in.

8.   Christoph Waltz for Big Eyes: Anyone that watched the film’s trailer saw that Waltz has some scenery-chewing material for this pic. He’s won the category twice, so he shouldn’t be discounted here.

9.   Robert Duvall for The Judge: Once a category-favorite, Duvall now faces an uphill climb with The Judge bombing with both critics and audiences.

Best Supporting Actress

1.   Patricia Arquette for Boyhood: At this point – and for this category, few performances are sight-unseen – she remains the only actress that could win this thing.

2.   Keira Knightley for The Imitation Game: All but sure to get swept up in the Imitation Game love-fest that will help to characterize this Oscar season. It’s also been a bit of a comeback year for her, with Begin Again and Laggies.

3.   Laura Dern for Wild: Given her small screentime, this isn’t a sure bet. But it’s an emotional showcase for Dern, who has a lot of goodwill going her way since Enlightened and with a strong turn earlier this year in Fault in Our Stars.

4.   Meryl Streep for Into the Woods: No one’s seen it yet, but Streep is on an astonishing roll right now as far as Oscar nominations are concerned. Disney confirmed she’ll be campaigned here.

5.   Emma Stone for Birdman: She doesn’t have that much to do, except for a tremendous monologue early-ish in the film. But a narrative is building around Stone, working to convince that this will be her first nominated performance.

6.   Jessica Chastain for Interstellar/A Most Violent Year: She earned great reviews for Interstellar, even if many acknowledged she’s pretty far in the background. She’s got a few roles to work with in this category, one yet to be screened.

7.   Carmen Ejogo for Selma: As Coretta Scott King, apparently Ejogo has a lot to do in Selma. She might jolt a category that could use some life.

8.   Julianne Moore for Maps to the Stars: It’s easily the most-talked about performance in the category – one that won Cannes Best Actress, no less – with the massive exception that it’ll be getting little-to-no Oscar campaign.

9.   Kristen Stewart for Still Alice: Reviews singled out Stewart as a highlight in the Julianne Moore vehicle, and SPC recently confirmed they’ll be funding a solid campaign for her. Maybe?

Screenplay categories to be discussed next week. Until then…

FEATURE: "LGBTQ TV" and the changing face of television

Amazon

“I don’t give a shit about labels,” Jenji Kohan firmly repeated after being asked yet again how identity politics may or may not factor into her creative decision-making process.

A New Yorker Festival panel earlier this month gathered the creators of five exemplary series for an “LGBTQ TV” panel; Kohan was joined by Jill Soloway of Amazon’s Transparent, Michael Lannan of HBO’s Looking, Brad Falchuck of FX’s American Horror Story, and Peter Paige of ABC Family’s The Fosters. The event was moderated by New Yorker critic Emily Nussbaum.

Kohan’s comment – which came near the end of a 90-minute conversation that spanned a diversity of topics including filming sex scenes, casting LGBTQ* characters and balancing politics with storytelling – ascertained what the panel discussion had, often tensely, hinted at. Essentially, these five minds, behind some of the most significant works in contemporary American storytelling vis-à-vis LGBTQ representations, are very different, and hold ideas about intent, responsibility and even sexuality that harshly clash.

In one respect, such a reality speaks to the tremendous variety of ways in which the LGBTQ experience is being conveyed right now – from the admirable realism presented in Transparent to the operatic sensibilities of American Horror Story, these writers are getting at very different ideas in very different ways. But beyond that, the tension between these five equally-celebrated storytellers indicates a lack of agreement on how to tell these stories, and more importantly, that a simple “LGBTQ TV” label cannot suffice.

Soloway’s Transparent is loosely based on her own familial experiences; her paternal parent only recently came out as transgendered, and in this fictionalized version, the part is played by Emmy nominee Jeffrey Tambor (Arrested Development). The series explores how the character’s coming out to their adult children provokes serious thought about sexuality and gender for the entire family. [Our review is here]

Transparent blends artistry with activism. Soloway has employed a “transfirmative" initiative for the series, essentially giving preference to potential transgendered cast and crew members. As such, Soloway is well-versed in trans politics, and she understands the importance and complications of pronoun usage and identity labels.

Throughout the course of the discussion, Soloway clashed with nearly every other panel member. Falchuck described his failed attempt to create a show about a “transsexual gynecologist,” noting that he just wanted to write about “a guy who wanted his dick cut off.” A frustrated Soloway retorted, “Not all transgendered people get surgery – just saying.”

Paige, sitting to the right of Soloway, described the “headache-inducing” process of learning about pronoun usage, a recounting that did not amuse Soloway as it did others on stage.

“I saw myself as the most left-wing, progressive guy around,” Paige explained. “But this was – this was so complicated!”

And despite lengthy compliments of each other’s work, Kohan and Soloway did not see eye-to-eye on the topic of “LGBTQ TV.” When Soloway said that Transparent would be hiring a trans writer, even after acknowledging that she could not find a single one with experience in television, Kohan pushed back quickly.

“See, I don’t agree with that at all,” Kohan said. “I think great writers should write great shows … what you are in life shouldn't automatically make you what you do in your art.”

In general, much of the panel’s conversation focused on the responsibility of these creators. Lannan and Kohan, for instance, approached their depictions of sex very differently. Lannan, whose Looking follows three gay friends living in San Francisco, was conscious about handling sex with restraint.

“For us, we look at the history of how gay men in particular have been depicted in the media and in general, and it’s always been hyper-sexualized,” Lannan explained. “I wanted to present these gay characters that were admirable, but really it got interesting when they started transgressing.”

Kohan, contrarily, has embraced the sensationalist material about women’s prison that has come before Orange – “We have to pay homage,” she joked – while also going for raw and rather graphic depictions of sex.

“I want my characters to be turned on,” Kohan said. “And I like fucking. I want to see my characters fucking. I want it to be sexy.”

The conversation was simultaneously enlightening, honest, awkward and funny, with the writers respectfully, sometimes agitatedly, disagreeing and arguing about their work, their intent and their responsibility. Uncomfortable as some stumbles may have been – a silence followed Soloway’s correcting of Nussbaum, who accidentally referred to Tambor’s character as “he” – the event remained lively throughout.

As audience questions complicated the conversation further, with comments about the representation of intersex individuals and of LGBTQ people of color both meeting some stammers, the “gay agenda” that Nussbaum and others had jokingly referred to revealed itself to be a startlingly complex and varied idea.

Ultimately, these wildly different stories – currently being consumed by millions of people, winning Emmys and Golden Globes and penetrating the social consciousness – contribute something even greater as a whole. Kohan’s brash, gritty and unfiltered voice is matched by Soloway’s carefully-constructed, protective approach. Their characters come together as honest yet flawed and relatable yet unique.

The blending of political activism and ambitious storytelling, irrefutably present in today’s television landscape, cannot come from any one approach or any one series. Each writer has a different idea of sex, of identity and of labels – yet each of their stories comes across as genuine and humane in their own right.

Kohan snapping at an inquisitive audience member that she “[doesn’t] give a shit about labels” is not intended as disagreement or argument with what a writer like Soloway is doing. Rather, it is her own appeal to common humanity, one that makes Orange so emotionally involving and so beautifully singular.

And this is what one comes away with as Soloway, Kohan, Lannan, Falchuck and Paige stand from their seats and begin posing in pictures for their fans. They are individuals, thorny and passionate and idealistic in their own right. They may not agree on what constitutes good “LGBTQ TV,” but through their particular focuses, together they are challenging expectations and are providing popular art’s most nuanced, groundbreaking expression of American identity.

*LGBTQ is an umbrella term, used here as it was the acronym used at the event.

Second Opinion: DEAR WHITE PEOPLE

Race matters in America. You can choose to conceal or reveal whatever parts of yourself you want but you cannot hide the color of your skin. Dear White People deals with young black identity better than any movie I’ve ever seen – despite its title, it’s really not tailoring itself to a predominantly white audience. It’s about how our Anglo-centric culture fragments the young black mind, how appropriation devalues black people, and how a lack of substantial representation in mass media perpetuates racism. White people are not only to blame in this film – black characters have to constantly question how their actions have, perhaps, helped to perpetuate racist attitudes. They contribute – in their own ways – to the black-face party that is thrown at the end of the film. And yes, while horrifying, a similar party was thrown at Dartmouth College in 2013. 

Samantha White - don't let her film you in the wrong moment. (Lionsgate, Roadside)

This complicated point-of-view makes the film worth seeing. Director Justin Simien opens up a conversation that is a breath of fresh air. But Dear White People isn’t good enough to overlook its flaws. The weak narrative, the various thinly-drawn characters, the inconsistent tone and faulty camera-work renders this movie a frustrating experience for those who want this movie to better than what it is. You’ll really enjoy this film in certain moments, especially the phenomenal and radiant Tessa Thompson, and it certainly mines brilliant and original comedy. Yet it’s always hampered by the filmmaker’s inability to make this film cohere narratively and tonally. 

Simien’s interested in the performance of black identity. He presents with four black students – Lionel, Samantha, Coco and Troy – who embody the kaleidoscopic experience of “blackness” on college campuses. Lionel (Tyler James Williams) is introspective, gay, and a potential journalist. He’s looking for somewhere to fit in but he’s also looking for love. Coco (Teyonah Parris) wants to be famous – but it isn’t until she plays up her “blackness” up on her YouTube channel that she’s given the attention she desires. Troy (Brandon P .Bell) is the legacy student who places more importance on being a leader than on being black. And Sam (Thompson)– her radio show Dear White People is echoing the sentiment that racism is not over. The film makes clear that this isn’t Howard or Spellman. You are black at Winchester – a primarily (fictional) white college. It’s up to these characters to determine on what grounds race is to be understood; their conflict is that there is no consensus to draw from. 

Sam White embodies the complexities of racism in the modern day. She provides the movie with the necessary humor and zippy-one-liners that allows Dear White People to stand out. On her radio show, she wants us to know that racism is still a thing, that black people are not commodities through which white people can prove their lack of prejudice. Her struggle is not conciliatory – she’s the ‘Malcolm X’ for this moment in time. She’s the unpopular radical.  A white student even refers to her as the “angry baby of Spike Lee and Oprah.” Her comments on the show are incisive and witty, and make listeners uncomfortable: “Dear White People, the minimum requirement of black friends to not seem racist has just been raised to two. Sorry, but your weed man Tyrone does not count.” 

The backbone of white privilege rests on how black people are appropriated by white people in a variety of different ways and how the white students cannot recognize it. She firmly believes in this but also struggles with her identity as half-black and half-white. The love of her life is the white TA in her media studies class and, even as they argue about these issues of representation and appropriation, she’s passionate about him nonetheless. She doesn’t know how to reconcile these two areas of her life so she keeps them separate instead. 

Sam White is a spitfire and isn’t going to sit idly by as film continues to marginalize her: “I sat through Birth of a Nation, Gone with the Wind and Tarantino Week,” she exasperatedly exclaims to her teacher. Sam at a movie theater is the best: in a perfectly framed shot, her posse is yelling at the ticket boy and angrily lamenting the dismal state of black cinema. When the ticket boy replies that the movie currently playing has Wesley Snipes as a secondary character, their reaction is priceless. “Really,” Sam goes, “Did he really just say that?” The film is confident in its  comedy; the film works best when its making you laugh. And, trust me, you will laugh many times. 

But the film falls flat in its dramatic moments. A lot of dialogue goes to racist extremes that never feel justified. In one scene, Sam White is arguing with the President of the school to repeal the housing act which would randomize student placement. “You wish you existed back in the times of lynchings and white mobs for you could have something really to complain about!” he tells her. It’s incredulous to think the president of a university would say this so openly and bluntly to a young black student, even if he is white (and very well could believe it). Perhaps it could happen, but the white characters are drawn so thinly you never believe them. If it’s supposed to be dramatically compelling or overtly satirical or a combination of both, you can never tell. 

This happens in another instance: Lionel overhears his love interest, newspaper editor George (Brandon Alter), rant about how black people are so obsessed with living out the problems of the past, and that the story Lionel is writing for him is going to get him into a top journalism school because it’s dealing with race. Lionel lets him off the hook for that, however, and takes him to a party where he proceeds to tell him he wants to “eat him up like a Hershey’s bar.” Another case where the obviousness of the writing shows; it reflects a lack of depth that Simien is simply not interested in. He could go comedically broad if he was consistent. But he’s all about chronicling the anxieties and fears of his characters. He spends a lot of time on issues such as Sam’s sick father and her infidelity to Troy’s weed habit and affair. It’s a lot to juggle, but Simien attempts to shade all the dramatic, overwrought subplots. This is why his attempt to craft satiric dialogue often falls flat – it’s always accompanied by unsuccessful, broad melodrama. 

You never even get a sense that the plot matters in the film. At one point, it’s about repealing the randomized housing act that would break up the house where black student are safe to congregate. In another instance, it’s about Troy trying to join the school’s primarily white comedic newspaper and the challenges he faces. The momentum of the narrative loses its drive; the climatic party scene consequentially loses much of its power.  

Parris and Bell never quite make the emotional impression that Williams and Thompson do. Parris, in particular, is marred by the superficiality that her character is drawn with. Troy, on the other hand, is simply unlikeable: he’s a blockhead concerned with status and nothing else. Simien tried shading him in the moment where he confronts his father – also the Dean – to stop the party, but it’s a moment undone by the film’s conclusion.

Lionel, for better or worse, is the emotional center. In Baldwin-esque manner, he lives in the netherworld of “gay” and “black” and can’t decide where he best belongs. What’s great about his story is its insistence on the importance of black identity – during the party, when he’s making out with the journalist, he’s hidden away. Yet when he leaves, he looks on, horrified at the white students donned in blackface. In a welcome moment of triumph, he asserts his identity and works with others to force the party’s end. Interesting, fun and conflict-ridden as this is, it remains the only real development that he gets – other than that, he feels too separate from the main action and Simian can’t seem to fit him into the movie in a substantial manner. He started off as a central character but fizzled midway through – more as an afterthought to reflect on a broad experience about race than to create an interesting, substantial gay character.

David summed it up best in my mind when we were talking about the movie: it felt more like a pilot that needed a little more time to retool, to rifle through what did and didn’t work. Too much was happening for a strong landing, even if the ending worked better than what came before. The film worked best when it committed, not only to its comedy, but to its cinematic sensibility. 

Dear White People, as a comedy, is stillborn; as a drama, it’s poorly drawn. The strength is in the ideas and in its central performance. But it’s too plagued by novice filmmaking mistakes to stand in my mind as a great – even good – movie. Yet it remains important. There are enough good qualities in this movie where I can recommend it, even highly recommend. It’s a trailblazer for the types of movies we need to be seeing more of, where risks are taken and appropriation is seriously considered. Even if these films don’t always yield the results we want or expect, they remain vital additions to the cultural conversation.

B- / C+

For David's more positive and more concise review, go here.   

Film review: DEAR WHITE PEOPLE

Tessa Thompson (second from left) leads ensemble cast in "Dear White People" (Lionsgate/Roadside)

Most admirable about Justin Simien’s Dear White People is its confidence. Despite an undercooked narrative and a glaring lack of centrality, this film often dazzles through its unapologetic activism and biting satire. It’s direct and blatant yet sneakily empathetic, and provokes a vital conversation about race in contemporary America.

Simien, a first-time writer/director, introduces an ensemble of black students at the fictional Ivy League school Winchester, and initiates a discussion about the kind of overcompensation, assimilation and general identity crises that black students, in a significant minority yet in a “post-racial” society, contend with individually and as a collective. Teyonah Parris (Dawn on Mad Men) plays Colandrea “Coco,” fame-seeking yet too comfortable and conflict-free – for a black woman – to attract the attention of the industry. Troy (Brandon P. Bell), the golden boy, gets pushed too hard by his father, the Dean of Students at the school (Dennis Haysbert). And Lionel Higgins (Tyler James Williams, titular character in Everybody Hates Chris), gay, “Mumford and Sons”-loving and sci-fi-obsessed, actively avoids other black students, who he generalizes to be homophobic and brutish.

The three are joined by Samantha White (Tessa Thompson, Veronica Mars), whose radio show “Dear White People” playfully works as Simien’s framing device. Simien’s work with Troy, Coco and Lionel fluctuates in effectiveness, but his grip on Samantha never wavers. She is, on the one hand, that archetypal college student that has taken on too much and is gradually falling apart – her father is sick and her coursework is piling up, and yet, she’s running for House President and has unassumingly taken on a spokeswoman-like role for the black student community.

But Simien walks a tightrope with Samantha. She’s arguably the film’s central and most detailed character, and yet through her, the director commits to illuminating Dear White People’s purpose, its contradictory ideas, its anger and frustration, and its emotional volatility. Doing so occasionally leaves this first film feeling very freshman: Samantha, a media studies major, learning to effectively communicate the blatant racism surrounding her (yet incomprehensible to her peers) through moviemaking exemplifies the sort of on-the-nose traps Dear White People has a tendency to fall into.

But does it matter if Simien’s ideas are so fully thought-out and considered? He starts from a place of justifiable anger – that racism is persisting in American institutions, and far too many are turning a blind eye to it – but explores that indignation through, importantly, several prisms. Dear White People comes off like a lightweight, looking and acting like a college-set film accessible for college students – parent asking too much of his son, sacrifices of self that come with trying to get noticed, inability to fit into one, single “group” – but the impact is just the opposite. At his best, Simien rather brilliantly twists such tropes with an essential question: how is the pursuit of fame, or the pursuit of success, or the pursuit of self-worth, or the pursuit of simply fitting in complicated by racial identity?

Sometimes, his work feels more like a promising television pilot, spinning around characters that probe interesting questions even if we can’t quite invest in them. He juggles four – maybe more – storylines that predictably converge in the movie’s climax, but the whole is never quite the sum of Simien’s parts. It’s such a complicated balance not only to write about, but to consider as a viewer; one can respect the way Simien turns the story of the overtasked A-student into one of overcompensation, but his transgressive approach still extracts a character and storyline devoid of complexity and limply realized. It’s a problem that extends to both Coco and Lionel as well, and in general, keeps Dear White People from truly transcending the material it’s deliberately evoking and shaking up.

But – and here is the major caveat – Simien’s finished work emerges as essential, magnificently confrontational and consistently intelligent. As a writer, Simien expresses a perceptiveness that is both mordantly funny and calculatingly uncomfortable – and here’s where he uses Samantha as a filter so brilliantly. Her studies in media lead to some blisteringly funny commentary on the different tastes of different cultures – “I sat through Birth of a Nation, Gone with the Wind and Tarantino Week,” she laments to a professor – but she also voices ideas about the troubling perspectives many still have on black Americans, about the hypocrisy and importance of political-correctness (“If you describe black people as ‘African Americans,’ you are racist,” goes a scintillating “Dear White People” entry), and about the practically-overt racism that still pervades American media and, yes, education.

What’s so fantastic about Dear White People as a conversation-starter is that while hyperbole is undeniably embraced, several conflicting viewpoints about race and youth and culture that ring so true are at its very root – it’s hard to not come away thinking about Simien’s various approaches and evaluating them not as a part of the film, but as ideas in greater American culture. This is such a refreshingly rough and honest take on race that successfully considers questions and patterns very much a part of our lives, yet hardly talked about or questioned. White Americans may not want to be thinking about their capacity to be racist, or their inability to internally normalize black America, but Simien argues – rightly, forcefully, intently – that they need to.

As touched on earlier, when you move away from the humor and the ideas in Dear White People, it becomes more of a mixed-bag. Parris (who I like a lot on Mad Men, and at least demonstrated some versatility here) and Bell – as well as several supporting characters – don’t get much to work with and fail to make much of an impression. It’s easy not to blame the actors – they’re not distracting or “bad” per se, and it’s easier to look at the writing and see that there’s not much they could have done. But then you get Haysbert, who’s handed a classically under-written part: the father who expects too much of his son. Despite there not being that much on the page, he gets a scene in which he conveys so much with his teary eyes, his crackling voice, his shaky physical demeanor – there’s an immediate expression of race-based insecurity, paranoia about the way his son is seen in (white) others’ eyes, guilt that he must go the extra mile and protect his son from an unjust world. It’s one of the best-acted scenes I’ve seen this year, a reminder that Haysbert is a criminally-underused, intensely-powerful actor.

And great writing meets a great actor to create Thompson’s complicated, funny and affecting performance. Every contradictory idea thrown into Dear White People is internalized by Thompson, a balance that is extremely tough to play. Not only does the young actress handle it with aplomb, but she goes the extra mile. She’s funnier than she needs to be, her anger is controlled and never veers into the very stereotype Samantha is accused of, and there’s just this general sense that Thompson is completely removed from this character, that she’s totally inhabited her. Credit also goes to Simien: there are several moments in this movie when it’s justified to wonder why this movie is not Samantha’s and only Samantha’s. Here is a gritty and layered expression not only of racial identity, but of college identity, of moving on from your parents’ child into your own individual, contending with hitherto unfamiliar expectations.

Simien’s end-of-film-twist ranks among my favorite of the year, for the way it generally surprises and crystalizes his principal intent. There’s a general idea here: can the capacity for racism of white characters in a film be tested as a way to explore our own – college students’, Americans’, the world’s – ghastly capabilities? It’s a smart idea, like so many others in Dear White People. If Simien’s ideas trump the film’s execution, he still achieves what he wants to achieve: a conversation about race and identity in a way that may induce laughter or squirming, but doesn’t let anyone off the hook.

Grade: B

In theaters now.

For a different, more critical read on Dear White People, here's Andrew's take. 

2014-15 TV SEASON: "Damages" creators are back, and they're on Netflix

Rose Byrne (left) and Glenn Close earned several awards for their work in "Damages" (DirecTV)

FX’s Damages – from creators Todd A. Kessler, Glenn Kessler and Daniel Zelman (they go by KZK) – erupted in the 2007-08 television season, along with Mad Men and Breaking Bad, as a major new entrant in the prestige television landscape. Its first season won three Emmys – for leading actress Glenn Close, supporting actor Zeljko Ivanek and casting – and was nominated for Outstanding Drama Series, writing, directing and more. Its next two seasons earned a combined 12 nominations.

Despite very good reviews and featuring some of the very best actors on television – Close, Rose Byrne, Marcia Gay Harden, William Hurt, Ted Danson, Martin Short and Lily Tomlin among them – Damages never really clicked with viewers, and finished out its run on DirecTV where few were paying attention.

Format-wise, Damages was ahead of its time. Its non-linear, heavily-serialized structure likely required too much commitment and investment on a week-to-week basis, and Netflix-style binge-watching hadn’t yet been put into effect. Its run ended in 2012, and all seasons have been available on Netflix since. According to reports, it fared a lot better on the streaming site than it did as a week-to-week program for FX-DirecTV – and executives paid attention. In January of this year, Netflix commissioned a 13-episode family-themed thriller from KZK set in the Florida Keys. Today, a title, release date and formal cast list have been announced, and it’s looking pretty exciting.

All episodes of the series, titled Bloodline, will be released in March 2015, a prime slot for Emmy consideration next year. No real information about the story has been given – Netflix released a thirty-second teaser which, while intriguing, does not help matters any – but the cast is top-notch. In leading roles as four siblings are Emmy winner Kyle Chandler (Friday Night Lights), the very-underrated Ben Mendelsohn (who was fantastic in this year’s Starred Up), Emmy-nominated Linda Cardellini (fresh off her Mad Men arc) and Tony-winning stage actor Norbert Leo Butz (he had a small part in Dan in Real Life). In supporting roles are Oscar winner Sissy Spacek and Oscar nominee Sam Shepherd as the parents, with Chloe Sevigny reportedly recurring.

It’s a jolt of exciting news for a television season that has been a little light on highly-anticipated new dramas. Showtime’s The Affair, which has been earning excellent reviews – we’ll be checking in on it in a few weeks – was among the few. For the most part, this season has yielded solid star vehicles in programs that don’t quite match their actors' talents (Madam Secretary and How to Get Away with Murder); some terrific miniseries (The Honorable Woman and the forthcoming Olive Kitteridge); and half-hours ranging from fantastic (Transparent) to promising (Black-ish).

KZK is perfectly-suited to Netflix, so expectations on Bloodline are relatively high. We’ll be posting new details on this and other new programs to get excited about as they come in. Also, look for some pieces on a slew of HBO premieres in the next week or so – the star-studded Olive Kitteridge, and the second seasons of two great, underrated half-hours in Getting On and The Comeback.

Teaser and details via Variety.