My Week In Entertainment (Sept. 29, 2014)

I wanted to touch on the stuff I’ve consumed over the past week and do a bit of writing, but didn’t particularly feel up to doing a deep dive on any one thing in particular, so here’s a roundup. Oh, and since I work in television, my weeks start on Monday, hence the date in the title. Also, spoilers!

Doctor Who I managed to watch both of the most recent episodes in the same seven-day span, so this is for “The Caretaker” and “Kill the Moon”.

“The Caretaker” is another of the Doctor-blending-into-mundane-surroundings episodes, like “The Lodger” (co-written by Steven Moffatt and the same fellow that brought us “The Lodger”, in fact: Gareth Roberts). This one, however, is less about the Doctor and more concerned with the mounting stress on his companion, Clara Oswald (Jenna Coleman), who is trying her damnedest to keep her travels with the Doctor and her normal life and would-be beau Danny Pink separate. Things come to a head when a walking armory called a Skovox Blitzer is drawn to Coal Hill School, where Clara and Danny teach and where the Doctor (‘scuse me, “John Smith”) poses as a caretaker to gain entrance (to be fair, he’s only marginally worse at caretaking than that other famous Scots groundskeeper).

“The Caretaker” continues the Doctor’s bizarrely antagonistic attitude toward soldiers, which is particularly problematic since Danny Pink is a former sergeant, now a math(s, because England) professor. If you take it as a character trait, it makes for some good drama, but I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off. It’s been a runner this season that the Doctor doesn’t merely dislike, but hates hates hates soldiers (even going so far as to deny Journey Blue, who appeared to be a fascinating possible companion, entry to the TARDIS, and can’t believe Danny is a maths teacher “because it requires logic”, instead preferring to believe he’s a P.E. instructor). For a character who has worked for the military (and even asked for a desk, and an office, in the 50th anniversary special) and had Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart as one of his closest and most trusted working companions, it seems out of character…so much so that it can only be chalked up to poor writing, unless something is done with it (I expect the latter to be the case, but it’s currently making me grow weary to have all of the hostility and none of the explanation, so I’d prefer understanding it sooner rather than later).

Ultimately, “The Caretaker” is fun, and the Skovox Blitzer, while mostly just an engine to run the plot, is a nicely designed monster (and blissfully not CGI!). As has been the case for all of series eight, the characters are front and center, and at the end of the day, the Doctor and Danny have collided, leaving the Doctor with grudging respect (or, at least, the beginnings of it) for Mr. Pink, and Danny more concerned for Clara’s association with him than before. He tells her that one day, the Doctor will push her too far. Little does he know…

“Kill the Moon” sees Clara and one of her pricklier students, Courtney Woods, join the Doctor in the TARDIS for a jaunt to the moon, only to find something is very, very wrong. The moon is destroying the Earth, having exponentially increased in mass and wreaking havoc on the planet. A team of (frankly, rather rubbish) astronauts have been sent up with 100 nuclear bombs to destroy it. Terrifying arachnid-like creatures have been found by the thousands, and it’s not long before some of the crew becomes spider-fodder. But the worst part is that beneath the moon’s surface, something is about to be born, and Clara, Courtney, and the remaining astronaut are left with the fate of humanity in their hands…

This is one of the most fascinating hours of Doctor Who that I’ve ever had the pleasure to watch. It’s not perfect, certainly, but the concepts and character beats are par excellence. Given that it just aired last night, I’ll not say too much about it (though I highly recommend this A.V. Club review/discussion if you’ve already watched the episode).

Sleepy Hollow I caught up with the first two episodes of season two, and am pleased to report that it retains its giddy insanity. Tom Mison and Nicole Beharie still sparkle, Orlando Jones, Lyndie Greenwood, and John Noble remain enjoyable, and the show remains unimpeachably fun. Beware, though: attempting to synopsize this series may result in a number of askew glances. As a side note, it’s also, gratifyingly, one of the most diverse casts on network television.

Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Something of a dull two-part kickoff, as the energy and verve of the season one’s back nine is reset a bit. We’ll see where it goes.

Family Guy/The Simpsons While the vaunted crossover had some good gags, the A.V. Club’s review put it best: both of the series have different kinds of comedy, and that’s fine, but only one feels diminished for being associated with the other.

Gotham Holy hell, I did not expect this. It’s not perfect, but it’s compulsively watchable and features some terrific performances (including Terriers‘ Donal Logue) and an inexplicable but fascinating turn from Jada Pinkett Smith as a gang leader who would have been more at home in the ’60s Batman series than modern television but still manages to work. It’s actually become one of my most anticipated series, when I expected to hate-watch the premiere and leave it at that. Idle thought: Sean Pertwee looks identical to his old man. If Doctor Who wants to do another multi-Doctor story, now’s the time, as you have the perfect First Doctor (David Bradley, who played the role to the hilt in An Adventure in Space and Time) and Third Doctor (and a little makeup on his son or grandsons would make a perfect Patrick Troughton stand-in).

Gravity Falls “Soos and the Real Girl” continues season two’s ramp-up of the creepy factor, as the murderous AI/dating sim Mystery Shack handyman Soos uses to bolster his confidence with the opposite sex runs amok and possesses animatronic animals from one of those novelty pizza joints. Some fantastic jokes as well.

Horns Joe Hill’s sophomore novel is the first to get the big-screen treatment, starring Daniel Radcliffe as a sad-sack who finds demonic horns protruding from his forehead after his girlfriend is murdered. He’s convinced he didn’t kill her, and using the horns’ powers (they bring out the worst in anyone who looks at them, and he can compel people), he sets out to find her killer. Radcliffe, appropriating a commendable American accent, never once struck me as the cultural touchstone he’s played for over a decade, which is commendable on its own. His performance as Ig Parrish, however, was fantastic in its own right. The film is a little overwritten, and makes some decisions that remove the agency of the character from the book (and, yes, gets a little cheesy at the end, due mostly to lack of budget, methinks), but it gets right more than it gets wrong, and the result is a (forgive me) devilishly good time. The revelations brought forth by the horns are by turns hilarious and heartbreaking, and Radcliffe plays it to the hilt. While I feel “Heart-Shaped Box” and “NOS4A2″ are stronger works by Hill, Horns (directed by Haute Tension‘s Alexandre Aja and adapted by Keith Bunin) hopefully shows how his already-cinematic writing style (a style that makes the changes somewhat unnecessary and thus rankle a bit) can easily be brought to film.

Stephen King’s A Good Marriage Like father, like son, I suppose. The same weekend that his son’s Horns gets a release, so too does the modest Stephen King novella “A Good Marriage” see its adaptation released. Bob and Darcy Anderson (Anthony LaPaglia, never sounding more like Bob Hoskins in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, and Joan Allen) have a seemingly ordinary life: Bob is an accountant, they run a side business together selling and collecting rare coins, and they have two grown children, one of which is planning her wedding. One night when Bob is out of town, Darcy stumbles onto a BDSM magazine in Bob’s possession, which she chalks up to “male exploration”. To her horror, she then immediately finds another item: Bob’s box containing the ID cards of Marjorie Duvall, the most recent victim of the BTK-like serial killer “Beadie”.

After a panicked phone call, Bob deduces that Darcy has discovered his secret, and returns home…and here is where the film diverges from my expectations. Instead of becoming the clichéd cat-and-mouse game I expected, Bob comes home and calmly explains to Darcy the origin of his “urges”, and assures her that he would never hurt her…and he means it. There is little in the way of veiled threats, or Bob lording his dangerous side over Darcy. LaPaglia, in an exceptional performance, sells the compartmentalization of his alter ego; he and Allen have the easy, laid-back chemistry of a couple who’ve been with each other for decades. Allen is the centerpiece here, though, and she’s even stronger. I’ve seen the film get critically mauled, but my opinion is because of how it is being sold: it’s not a thriller (or, if it is, it’s a very poor one). It’s a character piece. Humanity’s boundless gift for adaptation has a dark side: while we can acclimate ourselves to virtually anything and survive, it also means we can accept almost anything. Allen plays this beautifully: yes, Bob has committed horrendous, terrible acts…but that’s also but a fraction of what she knows of him. He has been her parter for 25 years, he’s the father of her children, he’s been her lover and comforter and rock. Is it right to accept his murderous side? Of course not. But in the balance…what do you do? There are so many scenes past the initial premise that truly drive home the ease with which these two can momentarily forget the horror: Bob climbs into bed with Darcy after confirming that he’s Beadie, and immediately falls asleep. Darcy is petrified with fear…and still manages to find herself going to sleep, her husband’s arm around her. Their shared joy at finding a white whale of rare pennies is likewise palpable, as is their mutual joy and heartbreak at their daughter’s wedding.

Darcy ultimately decides to force Bob to stop moonlighting as Beadie, bury the ID cards without sending them to the cops, and continue their lives. What other option is there? She comes to one, but the bulk of the film is engaged with their continued existence. Allen in particular is luminous in a very complicated, largely subtle role; she takes it and runs with it, carrying the entire endeavor on her shoulders.

A Good Marriage isn’t perfect, and as I said before, it’s not a white-knuckle thriller. It’s not trying to be one. Instead, it asks what could allow the banality of evil and answers simply and honestly: inertia.