Vox: All Posts by Karen Hanhttps://cdn.vox-cdn.com/community_logos/52517/voxv.png2018-11-04T10:30:17-05:00https://www.vox.com/authors/karen-han/rss2018-11-04T10:30:17-05:002018-11-04T10:30:17-05:00Netflix’s Patriot Act With Hasan Minhaj is distinct, funny, and truly informative
<figure>
<img alt="" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/1ZkLWLjOcw040NoeqclyuMFHJf0=/0x0:3200x2400/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/62168413/20181009_PatriotAct_CH_0023R.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>Hasan Minhaj’s new show might just be what Netflix needs. | Cara Howe/Netflix</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Minhaj is the talk show host we need and the talk show host we deserve.</p> <p id="gUQCP4"><em>Every week, we pick a new episode of the week. It could be good. It could be bad. It will always be interesting. You can </em><a href="http://www.vox.com/episode-of-the-week"><em>read the archives here</em></a><em>. The episode of the week for October 28 through November 3 is “Saudi Arabia,” the second episode of </em>Patriot Act With Hasan Minhaj, <em>streaming now on Netflix.</em></p>
<p id="dbCur4">A few days before the launch of <em>Patriot Act With Hasan Minhaj</em>, Netflix’s latest attempt at a timely news show, the network<strong> </strong>released a 10-minute<strong> </strong>video featuring Minhaj and <em>Queer Eye</em>’s Tan France going shopping for an outfit that Minhaj could wear on his new program. The video’s premise and purpose were hardly novel; it was obviously meant to promote two different Netflix shows, and ever since the new <em>Queer Eye</em> debuted, clips of one or all of its stars <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M00TZU7q9ME&t=309s">giving</a> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7BiK0rNpFxg&t=8s">someone</a> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vM2zD5FtrkQ">a</a> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=54BVvP7zvDQ">makeover</a> have become fairly common. But it still became an instant hit, with social media lighting up with commentary. </p>
<p id="F8jnTj">The video’s success speaks directly to just why Minhaj’s new show is so great. It’s not that anything particularly unique happens; rather, it’s the fact that the perspectives of France and Minhaj — who are Pakistani and Indian, respectively — allow for a different kind of discussion.</p>
<div id="tmwN5Q"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.2493%;"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/uFhRONeopbQ?rel=0" style="border: 0; top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute;" allowfullscreen="" scrolling="no"></iframe></div></div>
<p id="ejN86g">Within the first minute, they’ve already covered the proper pronunciation of their names (“That’s a brown thing”) and moved on to comparing their skin tones, discussing Western versus South Asian beauty products, and jokingly referring to themselves as the “brown Illuminati.” They display a rapport and specificity that’s missing from enough media that it feels remarkable to find in a silly promotional clip. But it’s exactly that type of specificity that makes Minhaj’s new show worthy of note.</p>
<p id="kXiEb3">Though he’s not really doing anything that hasn’t been seen before, with <em>Patriot Act</em>, Minhaj has created something that feels fresh and new. <em>Patriot Act</em> is part talk show, part news commentary, part standup set. It’s part timely, part evergreen. And perhaps most strikingly, it seems to have a real shot at success in a streaming landscape that, by default, isn’t super friendly to a weekly news commentary show.</p>
<h3 id="WxvJgb">
<em>Patriot Act </em>may finally give Netflix a true contender in the crowded field of newsy, funny talk shows</h3>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt=" " data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/PFFV9aRMLAL7QniZUSsW1wcYygY=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/13377281/20181017_PatriotAct_CH_0013R.jpg">
<cite>Cara Howe/Netflix</cite>
<figcaption>Minhaj defies the constraints that have sunk other streaming talk shows.</figcaption>
</figure>
<p id="b072ka">Netflix’s ongoing foray into the talk show/topical news field has been a mixed success at best. Over the past two years, the streaming network has launched several shows that seem to target the ever-expanding Venn diagram of news commentary and comedy, with Chelsea Handler, Joel McHale, and Michelle Wolf all trying their hand at hosting weekly series. But all three have since been canceled, after seemingly failing to resonate with viewers in the same way that other comics turned news commentators — think <em>Last Week Tonight</em>’s John Oliver, <em>Full Frontal</em>’s Samantha Bee, <em>Late Night</em>’s Seth Meyers, and <em>The Daily Show</em>’s Trevor Noah — all have. </p>
<p id="VvpMxU">The other talk shows that are currently airing on Netflix, like <em>Norm Macdonald has a Show </em>and <em>My Next Guest Needs No Introduction With David Letterman,</em> aren’t aiming for the same kind of timeliness, opting instead for a more traditional, less news-oriented approach. But as a result, they too have been relatively low-impact; both received lukewarm receptions upon their debut, beyond a brief controversy surrounding <a href="https://www.vox.com/culture/2018/9/12/17850248/norm-macdonald-hollywood-reporter-metoo-donald-trump-roseanne-barr-louis-ck">Macdonald’s defense</a> of Roseanne Barr and Louis C.K. while promoting the show.</p>
<p id="u4GdVN"><em>Patriot Act</em> may just be the one to break out. </p>
<p id="RX5jvP">Of all of the late-night programs and talk shows currently airing on any network, from broadcast to cable to streaming, <em>Patriot Act</em> takes the best of each to create something that feels unique — and vital. As Minhaj takes the stage without a desk (like Bee does on <em>Full Frontal</em>), his show comes across more as a standup set than a talk show, and his approach of focusing on a single topic for most, if not all, of each episode (like Oliver does on <em>Last Week Tonight</em>) means that <em>Patriot Act</em> is incisive and, importantly, truly informative.</p>
<h3 id="NIRwld">
<em>Patriot Act </em>takes the best of similar shows and filters them through a new and necessary voice</h3>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt=" " data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/gyUn6tkjzBLEiuJyfvRKHe8MqEI=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/13352737/20181009_PatriotAct_CH_0007R.jpg">
<cite>Cara Howe/Netflix</cite>
<figcaption>
<em>Patriot Act</em> is groundbreaking — and fun.</figcaption>
</figure>
<p id="1DYILg">Minhaj is the first Indian-American performer to host a TV news-meets-comedy show, and the fact that he’s breaking ground becomes clear almost as soon as <em>Patriot Act</em> opens. The first episode is about affirmative action, and there’s a certain cosmic irony in how the topic — which inherently advocates for bringing a diverse range of voices into any given conversation, the better to reflect the world around us — is mirrored in the fact that Minhaj is the person leading the discussion. </p>
<p id="2VHW2g">There’s a specificity to the reference points Minhaj uses — such as a comparing a lota (a small water vessel commonly found in bathrooms in South Asian households) to toilet paper to help build a metaphor about effectiveness — that probably wouldn’t be made by any other talk show host currently on air. </p>
<p id="Pp8wpB">He also addresses issues like anti-black sentiments in Asian immigrant communities, which is a thorny subject that’s rarely (if ever) so explicitly addressed in popular media, and he does it all without making any of his discussion topics seem like the domain of an “other.” The result is a news-comedy-talk show that feels like it can speak to a broader audience; while Minhaj is not trying to tailor what he’s saying for a white audience, he also doesn’t make his specific references inaccessible to anyone who might not immediately understand what he’s talking about. And his approach is only bolstered by <em>Patriot Act</em>’s<strong> </strong>focus on the wider world rather than on solely American politics.</p>
<p id="ECbMJI">The second episode of <em>Patriot Act</em>, “Saudi Arabia,” is perhaps the perfect example of how everything comes together, as Minhaj tackles the murder of journalist <a href="https://www.vox.com/world/2018/10/19/18000112/jamal-khashoggi-saudi-washington-post-journalist-updates">Jamal Khashoggi</a> and the questionable-at-best politics of Prince Mohammed bin Salman. The episode approaches America’s relationship to Saudi Arabia from the latter country’s perspective, and Minhaj sharpens the macro into a more micro point as he explains how political turmoil within Saudi Arabia affects his faith as an Indian-American Muslim. </p>
<p id="SPe1Ar">Through it all, Minhaj makes his stance clear, damning the crown prince’s actions as well as the role that<strong> </strong>many countries, including the US, have played in allowing him to go mostly unchecked. Impressively, the segment remains timely — and no less accurate — as of press time, though<strong> </strong>the rapidity with which news changes means that may not always be the case, a snag that <em>Patriot Act</em> seems to be counteracting by grounding its segments in sufficient broader historical context.</p>
<p id="TYdVky">Later, in a shorter<strong> </strong>piece toward the end of the episode (that comes closest to replicating the segment-by-segment structure of a typical news show), Minhaj digs into “the Mount Rushmore of shitty Indians,” which includes political figures like far-right political commentator Dinesh D’Souza and former Louisiana Republican Gov. Bobby Jindal. Though their respective right-wing exploits have been thoroughly covered in the media, no one has ever deconstructed their personas the way Minhaj does, as he jokes that on the positive side of things, these “shitty Indians” have set Indian kids free because they set a precedent for being “complete fucking lunatics” instead of adhering to stereotypes about following the rules and studying to become doctors.</p>
<p id="fY4mBe">It’s also worth noting that, as yet, <em>Patriot Act</em> doesn’t have any bits. The comedic aspect of the show is contained within Minhaj’s delivery rather than coming from<strong> </strong>side characters or cartoonish graphics. (The graphics that do support what Minhaj is saying are all informational, in a statistic-heavy layout that brings to mind TED talks more than the complementary punchlines often seen on <em>The Daily Show</em> or <em>Last Week Tonight</em>.) Minhaj’s mission is clear: He wants to make sure we’re properly informed, but there’s no need to sacrifice accessibility or humor to get us there.</p>
<p id="MwOeE6">Thus, the window that <em>Patriot Act</em> opens into contemporary happenings feels singular, and both because of and as a result of that, it has the potential to succeed in a way that Netflix’s other talk shows haven’t. (And given the show’s 32-episode order, it would seem that Netflix is committed to giving it its best chance of doing so.) The only question seems to be how the show will handle timeliness, as the constraints of dissecting the news week to week remain a stumbling block for any show that airs on a streaming network built for bingeing. </p>
<p id="oyj4Tz">And with the way “Saudi Arabia” still strikes home and feels relevant despite the news cycle continuing apace — a function of the episode’s smart framing of the story it’s telling within a bigger picture — <em>Patriot Act</em> may have cracked a difficult code. Ultimately, it may be Minhaj’s broader outlook on the news that saves the show from the timeliness trap. That, and a voice that’s too distinct to be drowned out.</p>
<p id="kwWdL2">Patriot Act With Hasan Minhaj <em>is streaming now on Netflix. New episodes premiere every Sunday.</em></p>
https://www.vox.com/tv/2018/11/4/18038954/patriot-act-with-hasan-minhaj-netflix-review-recapKaren Han2018-11-02T15:00:04-04:002018-11-02T15:00:04-04:00True Detective season 3 trailer: Mahershala Ali is on the case
<figure>
<img alt="Mahershala Ali stars in the new season of True Detective." src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/YIx5MGbj8sTdQC0gX0BrZljOVKU=/150x0:1050x675/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/62168095/tum.0.jpeg" />
</figure>
<p>The latest season of HBO’s anthology show is a struggle with time (it’s a flat circle).</p> <p id="BcodA7">The full trailer for <a href="https://www.vox.com/true-detective"><em>True Detective </em>season three</a><em> </em>has arrived, and should be of comfort to anyone worried that the show might never recover from the <a href="https://www.vox.com/2015/8/10/9125723/true-detective-finale-recap-season-2">drubbing</a> its second season received. </p>
<p id="22N32R">The new footage gives us a welcome look at the HBO anthology’s<strong> </strong>midwestern gothic aesthetic and apparent return to “good men forced to extreme measures” sequences that gave season one such vim and vigor. </p>
<p id="xKWrzq">In the glimpses we get of Detective Wayne Hays (Mahershala Ali) and his partner, Roland West (Stephen Dorff, who is starting to look more and more like Dennis Quaid), trying to figure out exactly what happened to a pair of missing children, the question of accountability seems to weigh heavy on everyone’s minds. </p>
<p id="mPwMCd">And, of course, there’s the show’s twisty, philosophical mode of storytelling. Though it’s long been established that season three will jump back and forth between two timelines, past and present, the new trailer seems to suggest that its story will in fact be following <em>three</em> different threads. One, the investigation of the disappearance of the two children. Two, a subsequent inquiry into Hays and West’s work on the case, not long after it ended. And three, a news report years later, as Hays tries to recount what happened.</p>
<p id="xbZxFN">As to how they will all tie together — or if Hays’s failing memory (“My whole brain is a bunch of missing pieces,” he says, in a line that could just as easily been delivered by season one protagonist Rust Cohle) will keep them frayed — we’ll just have to wait and see.</p>
<p id="TjpuGZ"><em>True Detective</em> season three will debut Sunday, January 13, on HBO.</p>
https://www.vox.com/2018/11/2/18056382/true-detective-season-3-trailer-hboKaren Han2018-11-02T13:30:14-04:002018-11-02T13:30:14-04:00Homecoming, starring Julia Roberts, is simpler than it appears — and a pleasure to watch
<figure>
<img alt="" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/ESA0mO-r5GYjVLmvjaRfNMTjjj8=/460x0:3385x2194/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/62166753/homecoming_prime_A004_C005_022874.0934019.1.FNL.lg___TIFF_rgb.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>Julia Roberts stars in Amazon’s latest series. | Amazon</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Roberts and Stephan James give Amazon’s latest series a beating heart.</p> <p id="Bxa922">As Amazon’s new thriller <em>Homecoming</em> unfolds, it becomes more and more clear that its lofty ambitions are both a curse and a blessing. </p>
<p id="8LiavD">The series, which stars Julia Roberts<em>, </em>is built like a puzzle box, weaving a story between the past and the present that often threatens to fall apart under its own weight. Its tropes are well-worn, and its narrative doesn’t go anywhere unexpected.</p>
<p id="Xsttb5">And yet all these elements miraculously coalesce into a show that is still tremendously emotionally affecting. Ultimately, <em>Homecoming</em> has too many strengths — and is a story too strikingly told — for its flaws to find real purchase.</p>
<div class="c-float-right"><aside id="nVp8Xp"><div data-anthem-component="ratingcard" data-anthem-component-data='{"rating":4.5,"title":"Homecoming"}'></div></aside></div>
<p id="FXH81O">The title of the series refers to the treatment facility where Roberts’s character, a novice psychologist named Heidi Bergman, works to help transition military veterans back into civilian life — at least in flashbacks. In the present timeline, a few years later, she’s waitressing. When Shea Whigham’s Thomas Carrasco, a Defense Department auditor, comes calling with some questions about her former employer, her new life starts to fragment.</p>
<p id="Rt8kob">Directed by <em>Mr. Robot</em>’s Sam Esmail and written by Eli Horowitz and Micah Bloomberg, <em>Homecoming</em> is adapted from Horowitz and Bloomberg’s <a href="https://www.gimletmedia.com/homecoming">podcast of the same name</a>, which debuted in 2016 and wrapped up last year. The podcast, which starred Catherine Keener, Oscar Isaac, and David Schwimmer, was praised for its performances and its use of audio tricks to jump between conversations, whether they be recordings of therapy sessions or phone calls. </p>
<p id="LmNLlI">Given <em>Homecoming</em>’s origins in the ongoing boom of true crime and mystery podcasts, it is predictably aimed at viewers who harbor a fascination with finding clues. And the show provides plenty of that that thorny detangling process. </p>
<p id="sEIInr">But the series is ultimately less concerned with the mystery, which accordingly turns out to be less complicated than its veneer would suggest, and more with the characters working through it. </p>
<h3 id="zCkesV">
<em>Homecoming</em>’s cast brings emotional depth to a show that could easily feel paper-thin</h3>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt=" " data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/-1l_s96HK5G_ZeevunzclIimV1E=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/13364003/homecoming_prime_HC_103_15473_1.1.FNL.lg_rgb.jpg">
<cite>Amazon</cite>
<figcaption>Shea Whigham, MVP of every project he’s in.</figcaption>
</figure>
<p id="eHwVET">By virtue of the series’ story, which involves the military and government politics, there are more macro issues at play in addressing how soldiers are treated by the countries they serve. That those points sometimes feel a little glossed over isn’t necessarily excusable, but it’s made understandable, at least, by <em>Homecoming</em>’s obvious intent: The series’ first season (the show was picked up for <a href="https://deadline.com/2017/07/homecoming-series-julia-roberts-amazon-2-season-order-1202131214/">a two seasons</a> from the jump) is made up of 10<strong> </strong>half-hour episodes and hyper-focused on its characters, rather than on building an impenetrably twisty plot. </p>
<p id="txq0qs">The show is ultimately something of a two-hander between Roberts and Whigham, as their characters are the ones actively unraveling the thread of exactly what happened at the Homecoming treatment facility. Roberts’s performance intensifies as her character’s confusion grows, crescendoing to a fever pitch — and a sublime visual trick — that will induce gasps even if you can see it coming. </p>
<p id="Ggo0fC">It’s a reminder of why she’s one of the last real movie stars in an entertainment landscape where that label has become increasingly rare, and a major part of why <em>Homecoming</em> lands on its feet.</p>
<p id="6o7QGz">It also speaks to Whigham’s talent. Despite what could be a thankless role as a government stooge, he more than keeps up with the cogs turning around him. Whigham is one of those actors who enriches every project he turns up in (see: <em>Fargo</em>, <em>Vice Principals</em>, <em>Take Shelter</em>, and <em>Boardwalk Empire</em>, to name just a few) and yet he still seems largely underappreciated. While this role, unshowy as it is, may not be the catalyst for a breakout, he performs it marvelously.</p>
<p id="58Ws95">If Roberts and Whigham are the moving parts, then the core around which they orbit is Stephan James, who plays Walter Cruz, one of Heidi’s patients. James is possessed of such innate warmth — there’s a reason he’s also one of the leads of Barry Jenkins’s upcoming film <a href="https://www.vox.com/2018/9/18/17853434/if-beale-street-could-talk-review-barry-jenkins-james-baldwin"><em>If Beale Street Could Talk</em></a><em> </em>— that his rapport with Roberts immediately establishes a centering force for the show, and makes it all the more affecting when it begins to erode. </p>
<p id="RMlbVq">Taken altogether — along with a turn from Bobby Cannavale that takes full advantage of how domineering Cannavale can be, as well as how unexpectedly tender — these pieces form a whole that’s unshakeable even when the thread of the plot starts to fray.</p>
<h3 id="j7KJpf">If you’re paying attention, <em>Homecoming</em> begins to betray its podcast roots</h3>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt="Homecoming" data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/x8deiG7OKdfN3mZmcQaWq1xz6ZE=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/13364023/homecoming_prime_HC_101_00601.1.FNL_rgb.jpg">
<cite>Amazon</cite>
<figcaption>Stephan James’s performance is part of what pushes <em>Homecoming</em> past its flaws.</figcaption>
</figure>
<p id="w0Giuq">In its TV iteration, the story’s dual timelines and thematic focus on dual selves mesh well with the kind of meticulous (if sometimes a little too on the nose) imagery that Esmail is known for. In <em>Homecoming</em>, this is especially apparent in his method of distinguishing between the show’s timelines, which borrows from other time-traveling dramas (the recent Korean TV series <em>Signal</em> comes to mind) by switching aspect ratios. The past takes up the whole screen, while the present is presented in a square — a fitting choice considering how so much of the information is obscured from both viewers and Heidi herself. </p>
<p id="3WicG3">The two timelines are also filmed in different styles. The past is shot in a way that’s reminiscent of ’70s and ’80s thrillers — and scored that way, too, with some tracks lifted wholesale, from movies like <em>Dressed to Kill</em>. The present, meanwhile, feels more like your usual contemporary drama. Unfortunately, that’s not where the show’s duality ends.</p>
<p id="E0AlZv">There’s nothing inherently wrong — or even new, at this point— in adapting a podcast into a TV series, as scripted series like <em>Lore</em> and (in a less narrative format) <em>Comedy Bang! Bang! </em>have paved the way. But <em>Homecoming</em> has a bit of a tell when it comes to how it’s jumped between mediums. It clearly has one foot stuck in its original audio-only existence, as the show sometimes struggles to keep its visuals up to speed with its sound and dialogue. </p>
<p id="RBAyrt">Specifically, there are a few too many phone conversations as <em>Homecoming</em> tries to tie its timelines together, made all the more obvious as voices are altered to make sure we know that characters are speaking on the phone. Though these sorts of conversations and the interesting sound opportunities they offer arguably made the podcast much stronger, they don’t translate smoothly to TV.</p>
<p id="noas9I">This problem is particularly glaring when it comes to Cannavale’s character, Colin Belfast. Colin is Heidi’s boss at Homecoming, and for the first half of the season, he’s almost always on the phone. The scenes, despite their visual component, underline just how important audio still is to the series, and it becomes difficult to avoid the distraction of how hard the story is working to get both voices in a conversation into the same physical place. </p>
<p id="cSTkkT">In combination with the way that <em>Homecoming</em>’s first season<strong> </strong>resolves — as tied up with a bow as it possibly can be, in a way that almost betrays how committed the show seems to maintaining an aura of unsolvability — it’s the kind of weakness that would knock the legs out from under any other show. </p>
<p id="9X07IP">But <em>Homecoming</em>’s strengths still outweigh any faults that would bring it down;<strong> </strong>as with the original podcast, the pleasure of <em>Homecoming</em> is in its performances, witnessing great actors do great work. There’s enough emotional depth to the story — and enough pageantry in how it’s told — to hold it all together.</p>
<p id="6OEPzu">Homecoming <em>premieres November 2 on Amazon Prime.</em></p>
https://www.vox.com/tv/2018/11/2/18046914/homecoming-amazon-julia-roberts-reviewKaren Han2018-10-28T10:30:02-04:002018-10-28T10:30:02-04:00Adam Sandler: 100% Fresh is a surprising, refreshingly earnest standup special
<figure>
<img alt="" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/cZYIgpChWmt-bGx-48diDdglv4E=/576x0:5184x3456/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/61929913/IMG_8320_RC2.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>The Sandman’s back! | Netflix</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In his new Netflix comedy special, Sandler succeeds by opening himself up to failure.</p> <p id="QWMs2N"><em>Every week, we pick a new episode of the week. It could be good. It could be bad. It will always be interesting. You can </em><a href="http://www.vox.com/episode-of-the-week"><em>read the archives here</em></a><em>. The episode of the week for October 21 through 27 is </em>Adam Sandler: 100% Fresh, <em>streaming now on Netflix.</em></p>
<p id="fj61MK">It’s tempting to call Adam Sandler an enigma. Though it’s hardly revolutionary to say a person contains multitudes — performers take on different personas all the time — Sandler in particular facilitates a certain cognitive dissonance. </p>
<p id="QCYRkL">That divide mostly has to do with the generally juvenile bent of his oeuvre, which most recently has comprised such works as <em>Grown Ups 2</em> and <em>The Ridiculous 6</em>; the latter is part of the four-movie deal he signed with Netflix because “<a href="https://www.businessinsider.com/netflix-signs-adam-sandler-to-a-4-year-movie-deal-2014-10">Netflix rhymes with Wet Chicks</a>.” Compare those roles to Sandler’s remarkable turns in movies like <em>Punch-Drunk Love</em> and <em>The Meyerowitz Stories</em>, and it becomes a little harder to clearly define what he’s all about.</p>
<p id="kb53nW">His latest work, the Netflix standup special <em>Adam Sandler: 100% Fresh</em>, might come closest to providing a concrete idea.</p>
<p id="yhlHfn">It has the plenty of the dick jokes you’d expect, but it’s also (mostly) packed with the earnestness, honesty, and weirdness you find in his best work. In that respect, it feels like a successor to (and improvement upon) <em>Sandy Wexler</em>, the third of his four Netflix films. <em>Sandy Wexler</em> (preceded by <em>The Ridiculous 6</em> and <em>The Do-Over</em>, and followed by <em>The Week Of</em>) was a strange movie, mostly because Sandler was doing a bit the whole time as a clueless, nebbishy talent manager — yet he still<strong> </strong>managed to convey that it was completely heartfelt (the title character is based on Sandler’s real-life manager, Sandy Wernick).</p>
<p id="sv4jF9">That improbably poignant tone persists in <em>100% Fresh</em>. It’s a compelling showcase of Sandler’s standup, and it falls<strong> </strong>perfectly in the middle of what appears to be something of a Sandlerssance.</p>
<h3 id="RkWWBm">
<em>100% Fresh</em>’s laidback quality disguises just how much Sandler’s latest material is about forging<strong> </strong>human connections</h3>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt=" " data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/CXSqICeStB6g8475_wLsRO1pCEc=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/13339675/DSCF0790_RC2.jpg">
<cite>Netflix</cite>
<figcaption>No joke, I would like to see Adam Sandler do a musical.</figcaption>
</figure>
<p id="z9NkT4"><em>100% Fresh</em> is chill. The special, cut together from multiple performances at wildly varying venues all around the country, is mostly comprised of Sandler roaming about any given stage, firing off jokes about sex and the quirks of genitalia between interstitials of him dancing and making silly faces. In other words, there’s plenty to reinforce Sandler’s reputation as a relatively lowbrow goof.</p>
<p id="CHeNlW">But from the get-go, there’s also plenty of material that helps explain why<strong> </strong>Sandler has remained a recognizable name<strong> </strong>in the pop cultural sphere for almost three decades. <em>100% Fresh</em> opens with Sandler in rehearsal, strolling onstage to greet an empty theater with a sweet song that turns out to be about the deadliness of electric cars. The empty theater is key: It’s a change of pace from the usual standup intro featuring a packed house and rapturous applause. The applause kicks in soon enough, as the entire rest of the special features an audience, but <em>100% Fresh</em> starts off on a strangely vulnerable foot. </p>
<p id="dsZnxN">It’s that vulnerable quality that suffuses Sandler’s best work, and it works a kind of magic here. It’s not that he doesn’t care what the audience thinks of him; rather, he just seems more concerned with opening himself up to human connection. </p>
<p id="0CgCiG">The strangest venue in which Sandler is seen performing is, no contest, a New York subway station (Times Square, if I’m not mistaken). As he sings, dressed in a hoodie and sunglasses, he doesn’t attract much of a crowd — as far as subway buskers go, he bombs. But he doesn’t seem mad or disappointed; rather, he laughs. He’s just having a good time. That the audience at home is allowed to see him fail is the whole point. </p>
<p id="qjoNZm">His best jokes in <em>100% Fresh</em> are about connecting with other people, too. Early on, he tells a story (and sings a song) about how his father shaves once every 10 years, and how those decennial shaves were the only time Sandler can recall seeing his father look vulnerable. It’s a quick, relatively thin gag, mostly made by Sandler’s impression of his father immediately post-shave. But something about it still sticks.</p>
<h3 id="tOqfum">The story Sandler is telling in <em>100% Fresh</em> is larger than himself</h3>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt=" " data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/8JDmbI5Smjt74H53hAeYWnaZvI0=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/13339731/DSCF1550_RC2.jpg">
<cite>Netflix</cite>
<figcaption>The best part of Sandler’s new special is its finale.</figcaption>
</figure>
<p id="UE8Jqr">The end of <em>100% Fresh</em> is an unexpected punch to the gut.</p>
<p id="AXtYzS">For the most part, the songs that Sandler sings throughout the special are built around simple jokes, even more simply constructed; one of them is just “Uber driver smells bad” ad nauseam. But as the special nears the end of its 73-minute running time, the fact that something different lies ahead suddenly becomes clear when Sandler tells the audience, “I hope you like it; it means a lot to us.” </p>
<p id="kZrtju">It’s the first time in the special that he really addresses the fact that people might or might not love what they’re seeing.</p>
<p id="rR80XL">And it’s the last thing he says before he launches into a song about Chris Farley. </p>
<p id="nsCzyq">No bits, no jokes — it’s a completely heartfelt tribute to the late comedian, who was one of Sandler’s fellows on <em>Saturday Night Live</em>. Though the camera lingers on Sandler as he plays a guitar solo, it’s clear that this moment is meant to be larger than him. In the background, footage of Farley’s <em>SNL</em> days segues into old childhood photos and videos of Farley, and Sandler effectively cedes the stage. </p>
<p id="A7Wbob">It’s an immensely and strikingly personal ballad, and it’s almost inconceivable coming from the same person who made the aforementioned “wet chicks” joke. It’s just as surprising as when, in the last segment of the special, Sandler actually comes across as sheepish when making a joke about sex. He’s been shameless, otherwise, but in his final song, which is dedicated to his wife (whose “pussy farts” he’s already discussed at length by this point), he seems embarrassed.</p>
<p id="EzWJWa">Despite all of the bits in <em>100% Fresh</em> that may come off as stereotypical Sandler (despite a large fanbase, he is not universally beloved, as emphasized by the special’s title, which refers to the low scores his work has received on Rotten Tomatoes), it’s impossible not to admit that <em>100% Fresh</em> is a disarming piece of work. The gross-out humor, the dick jokes, the use of repetition as a comic device — they’re not meant to necessarily be low-hanging fruit or to hold an audience at arm’s length. They’re a silly, shared point of connection, and as such, they’re part and parcel of what makes Sandler great. </p>
<p id="QBxauu">His best work uses these crasser topics as a way of cushioning the more earnest ones he wants to address — after all, who’d have thought that a standup show would end with an in memoriam? And, now in his 50s, Sandler seems to have a healthy sense of self-awareness. He refers to himself as “the Sandman” multiple times throughout <em>100% Fresh</em>, but it’s not a holy title or a way of pumping himself up. It’s a term of endearment — again, a point of connection, as audience members scream it out, too. But, like the song about Chris Farley or the song about his wife, it’s not about him. This time, it’s about the audience.</p>
<p id="TQ27H9">Adam Sandler: 100% Fresh <em>is streaming on Netflix.</em></p>
https://www.vox.com/2018/10/28/18028858/adam-sandler-100-fresh-netflix-special-review-recapKaren Han2018-10-25T21:00:02-04:002018-10-25T21:00:02-04:00The Good Place settles into a new status quo in “The Ballad of Donkey Doug”
<figure>
<img alt="The Good PLace" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/0mznXvhrj4LlCOqXGKTQPSlvJOY=/66x0:955x667/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/61913661/NUP_183374_0127.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>Eleanor and Tahani prepare to occupy separate storylines. | Colleen Hayes/NBC</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>An episode split in two emphasizes what’s working — and what isn’t — about season 3.</p> <p id="UTSuIx"><em>Every week, Vox critic at large Todd VanDerWerff and culture writer Karen Han get together to discuss the latest episode of NBC’s loopy comedy </em><a href="http://www.vox.com/the-good-place">The Good Place</a><em>. This week, they’re discussing the sixth episode of the third season, </em><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt8534442/?ref_=tt_eps_cu_n"><em>“The Ballad of Donkey Doug.”</em></a><em> (Because the first two episodes aired as one installment, the episode number is one ahead of the number of weeks the show has aired.) </em><em><strong>Spoilers follow! Proceed with caution if you haven’t seen the episode!</strong></em><strong> </strong></p>
<p id="HYu7Ca"><strong>Karen Han:</strong> While watching “The Ballad of Donkey Doug,” I was reminded of <a href="https://www.vox.com/culture/2018/10/11/17964788/the-good-place-season-3-episode-4-recap-the-snowplow-review">what Todd said</a> a couple weeks ago about the early part of the season, in that it seemed like <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt4955642/?ref_=nv_sr_1"><em>The Good Place</em></a> was going to have to put on its running shoes and sprint in order to ever surpass the high bar it had previously set for itself, and shake off the relatively slow start to the season. While “The Ballad of Donkey Doug” actually made me tear up — and laugh out loud more than once — I’m not sure it reflected the show hitting the stride that we thought it would.</p>
<p id="UHWtgM">That the gang is split up into smaller groups isn’t as much of a sore spot here as it was in previous episodes (Eleanor, Chidi, and Janet go one way; Tahani, Jason, and Michael go another), but not having everyone together still slows down the action. Watching Eleanor and Chidi workshop how Chidi could break up with Simone was both sad and hysterical (who hasn’t had to deal with that kind of anxiety?) but it felt like filler to me. Removing Simone from the equation seemed designed to inch the season’s plot forward while keeping Eleanor and Chidi in the episode, as Jason’s journey to help Donkey Doug — who was revealed to be his dad — allowed the episode to meet its moral development quota.</p>
<p id="0KgCnI">Or maybe I’m still adjusting to the fact that <em>The Good Place</em> has fundamentally altered its characters’ motivation. Now that they can’t get into the Good Place, more of their energy is directed toward helping other people, rather than toward their own self-improvement.</p>
<p id="6HmvlO">Then again, that’s why Jason’s storyline works. It’s the deepest dive the show has taken into his past to date, and, like Chidi’s break-up, though all the Florida insanity is funny, it’s semi-tragic, too. I mean, the fact that Jason calls his dad Donkey Doug stems not from how dope the nickname is but from the fact that his dad doesn’t really dig the idea of taking on a father’s responsibility.</p>
<p id="It63VV">I feel like my conflicting emotions about the episode are driving me into Chidi “I’ve made my decision, I want … to start crying” territory. Todd, maybe you had a little more success in parsing it all out.</p>
<h3 id="RCM4pl">Is this <em>The Good Place</em>’s new status quo?</h3>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt="The Good Place" data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/nfA8HRGldRj2hYLaDZRlIAtXVkI=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/13336177/NUP_183374_0065.jpg">
<cite>Colleen Hayes/NBC</cite>
<figcaption>Here’s another photo of Tahani, though Michael is also in this one.</figcaption>
</figure>
<p id="27O2ye"><strong>Todd VanDerWerff: </strong>“The Ballad of Donkey Doug,” so far as I can tell, represents <em>The Good Place</em>’s new status quo. Instead of being about its characters trying to help themselves, it’s now going to be about them trying to help their other loved ones, the better to help said loved ones avoid the Bad Place. Which isn’t bad as a premise for trapping everyone on Earth, even if it kinda leaves Michael and Janet without a lot to do. (Janet makes up for it by saying, “Bing!” every time she does something, because she misses her sound effects so.)</p>
<p id="hM9Xjw">That may be why the Chidi side of this episode, which I would agree wasn’t on the same level as the Jason side of the episode, felt a little extraneous. Yeah, we probably need to know what happens to Simone, but I’m not sure an entire B-plot was necessary in the end. Plus, it’s wrapping up old business, instead of exploring new ideas. </p>
<p id="JjJxtA">It’s mostly an excuse to set up the fact that Janet has constructed an elaborate virtual reality simulation, which means she can effectively put people in an unreal world to test things out. This lets the show keep some of its “wild and surreal things can happen” tone, but almost everything that happened in the Chidi half of “The Ballad of Donkey Doug” seemed like it was blazing along at light speed, so I never had the chance to go, “Wait, what?” Maybe the breakneck pace was meant to gloss over Janet <em>inventing seamless virtual reality</em>, but I still felt like the show was on step 17 when I was still on step one.</p>
<p id="nODuwh">(Sidebar: So far, it hasn’t broken the show, but the fact that Janet is functionally omniscient feels like something the writers either have to lean into or work hard to neutralize. So far, they’ve done neither and haven’t quite nailed the balance.)</p>
<p id="nk9fQT">That said, the Jason side of “The Ballad of Donkey Doug” is truly wonderful. The reveal that Donkey Doug is Jason’s dad is terrifically funny, and Michael and Tahani’s utter amusement at all of the circumstances of Jason’s upbringing made the story click even more. If this sort of story is where <em>The Good Place</em> is headed, I’m intrigued. If, instead, we’re just going to see a bunch more attempts to recreate the wild, anything goes atmosphere of the afterlife here on Earth, the show might start to chase its own tail too much for me.</p>
<p id="29L7cK"><strong>Karen: </strong>I do wonder if we’re seeing a case of Chekov’s virtual reality simulation, given that there’s never a <em>Good Place</em> detail that hasn’t turned out to serve a purpose. (Or maybe I’m just overinvested in Eleanor’s Jason Statham fantasy. Girl, same!)</p>
<p id="pL4NNE">I’m also not entirely convinced that the new ideas we’re seeing are new enough. Jason’s half of the episode really was great (his tearful secret handshake with Pillboy is a work of art), but it looks like <em>The Good Place</em> is setting up what I’m going to refer to as a video game scenario: We’re seeing the characters help other people, yes, but they’re doing so by working through their own stories in a way that doesn’t feel organic so much as it feels like steps leading up to a grand finale. Jason has achieved closure, now it’s time for Tahani and Eleanor to do the same.</p>
<p id="FW8WfD">I think that’s why I was ultimately disappointed that “The Ballad of Donkey Doug” ended on the reveal that Eleanor’s mother is still alive, not least because it means the gang will be divided up once more. The only upside is that what comes next looks like it will be evenly balanced, as opposed to one side of the episode functioning as pure fluff, à la Chidi’s ordeal this week.</p>
<p id="LNYqBR">On that same token, though, what you said about <em>The Good Place</em> being on step 17 while we’re still on step one is enough to make me reconsider. Again, this is a show that does everything deliberately; so far, nothing is without a purpose, and maybe I should trust that this season is built the same way.</p>
<p id="EiJURA">Lest we forget, everyone is still on the Judge’s shit list, which means there’s a cosmic reckoning waiting for them at some point. And I get the feeling that season three won’t end until we see some more moral hemming and hawing from our party’s supernatural contingent of Michael and Janet. Or maybe I’ll just end up eating my hat on all of this. </p>
<h3 id="MJUMdU">The show might be trying too hard to get back to an “anything goes” kind of storytelling</h3>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt="The Good Place" data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/7H6VApfZkI1ooxmhNNTHoALT01M=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/13336185/NUP_183374_0580.jpg">
<cite>Colleen Hayes/NBC</cite>
<figcaption>That baseball cap is great.</figcaption>
</figure>
<p id="yTUmtn"><strong>Todd: </strong>No, you’re right on that account, and the video game idea is astute. The characters are embarking on some side-quests to help characters who drop in pretty much for a single episode, then leave the narrative. I mean, I’d love to see Donkey Doug and Pillboy become series regulars, but it strikes me as unlikely.</p>
<p id="544AeF">There’s also the rub that the characters can’t tell anybody about the whole Good Place/Bad Place system, because that would make it impossible for anyone they tell to get into the Good Place. That pesky little detail complicates every relationship they have with anybody who isn’t one of the other series regulars. </p>
<p id="RLt3CX"><em>The Good Place</em> has always been a pretty insular show, but at least in the afterlife, we had figures like the Judge and Trevor and Vicky and on and on, characters who would pop in just frequently enough to keep the story moving. So far, the Earthbound antics haven’t developed the same set of supporting characters, and any time someone like Trevor ends up hanging out with our heroes, he’s quickly written out.</p>
<p id="SOtCWX">I think the virtual reality of it “The Ballad of Donkey Doug” bugged me just a little bit because — so far, at least — it has no bearing on the show’s larger reality. It was fun to watch <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm2860379/?ref_=tt_ov_st_sm">William Jackson Harper</a> run through a bunch of possible versions of breaking up with Simone, just as it was fun to see <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0068338/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Kristen Bell</a> play Eleanor slowly realizing she’s into Simone, at least in the simulation. (And, really, why <em>don’t</em> more men say they’re bisexual? It’s 2018!) But it’s inherently a story that runs in place, a comedic conceit that works in a scene but can’t carry a whole storyline. Chidi’s gutted feeling when he finally does break up with Simone is inherently more interesting, but the show buzzes right by it. </p>
<p id="2xDaFm">And yet the virtual reality stuff made me think about the simulation hypothesis, which Elon Musk (a particularly loathsome Tahani ex, it turns out) was obsessed with for a while there. The idea is that we live in an incredibly advanced simulation, created by descendants of people very like us, designed by them to get a sort of window into their past. It posits that we are, in essence, the Sims, but with autonomy. Or something like that.</p>
<p id="H4X7wl">The major philosophical question raised by the simulation hypothesis is — how do we behave morally if we live in a simulation? And the answer is simple: It doesn’t matter. The moral code you live by doesn’t change one iota, because even if you’re somehow aware of the simulation, it doesn’t make the people around you, or your interactions with them, less real. You still have a responsibility to them. We all still owe each other kindness and sincerity. </p>
<p id="BC4jh0">So maybe there’s more to “The Ballad of Donkey Doug” than I’m giving it credit for. But nearly halfway through season three, I’m increasingly concerned <em>The Good Place</em> is trying to extend its old heavenly delights to the planet Earth and struggling with just how little our reality affords those kinds of opportunities. In the Good Place, you can jet all over the universe in an instant. On Earth, it still takes the better part of a day to get from Australia to Florida, to say nothing of going back again.</p>
https://www.vox.com/culture/2018/10/25/18022992/the-good-place-season-3-episode-6-recap-episode-5-the-ballad-of-donkey-dougKaren HanEmily St. James2018-10-25T16:20:02-04:002018-10-25T16:20:02-04:00GLAAD: the number of LGBTQ series regulars on TV is at an all-time high
<figure>
<img alt="" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/Y4x3Qe0LE7G61Ui3K1Gmt09baRo=/0x0:4373x3280/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/61910421/POSE_101_2946r.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>The premiere of <em>Pose</em> is one of two “history-making television moments” from the 2018-’19 season. | FX</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The organization called <em>Pose</em> and <em>Supergirl </em>“history-making” in terms of representation on TV.</p> <p id="YKza4T">For the past several years, the entertainment industry has been the subject of many a conversation about representation and inclusion of women, people of color, and LGBTQ+ individuals onscreen. Whether those conversations are effecting enough change — not to mention whether it’s happening fast enough — remains a heated debate, but many recent TV and film projects, from <em>Billions</em> to <em>Crazy Rich Asians</em>, have at least shown real progress.</p>
<p id="YdVSUh">The latest report by the media monitoring organization GLAAD, which compiles an annual report that specifically studies LGBTQ representation on television, suggests another step in the right direction. </p>
<p id="GgCQ00"><a href="http://glaad.org/files/WWAT/WWAT_GLAAD_2018-2019.pdf">The 2018 edition</a>, which covers shows airing between June 1, 2018, and May 31, 2019, reflects a markedly positive change in diversity and representation, including, as noted in GLAAD president and CEO Sarah Kate Ellis’s introductory letter, two “history-making television moments”: the June 2018 premiere of FX’s <a href="https://www.vox.com/culture/2018/6/1/17415634/pose-review-fx-ryan-murphy-paris-is-burning"><em>Pose</em></a>, which featured the largest number of transgender series regulars ever on a scripted US TV series, and the upcoming introduction of Nia Nal (Nicole Maines) to <em>Supergirl</em> as TV’s first transgender superhero.</p>
<p id="bAQRxi">Overall, GLAAD found that the number of LGBTQ series regulars on broadcast TV airing in primetime has increased from 2017’s 6.4 percent to an all-time high of 8.8 percent. It also found that the 2018-’19 TV season marks the first time that LGBTQ characters of color outnumber white LGBTQ characters, and reported that all TV platforms (broadcast, cable, and streaming) have shown significant increases in LGBTQ characters of color.</p>
<p id="EQHd9k">It’s a growth that comes in concurrence with a 4 percent increase over last year in series regular characters on broadcast television who are people of color and, within that statistic, an overall increase in racial diversity as characters of all ethnicities have become more visible in mainstream media.</p>
<p id="kXn3Zb">Finally, the number of transgender characters across all TV platforms has also increased, as has the number of bisexual characters represented on TV.</p>
<p id="gLap6r">GLAAD’s 2017 report<strong> </strong>on LGBTQ inclusion in TV suggested that the industry was still hampered by a mostly uphill battle for diversity, as each increase in the number of LGBTQ characters and characters of color across broadcast, cable, and streaming TV seemed to be matched by a decrease in another category<strong> </strong>from its 2016<strong> </strong>findings. The 2018 report seems to indicate that change is occurring a little more reliably.</p>
<p id="r8tUBU">To be sure, increases in representation across the TV industry remain tenuous, as the total percentage of representative characters remains in the single digits (and representation of people with disabilities and the transgender community remains slim). But GLAAD’s 2018 report suggests that industry-wide efforts to increase representation are starting to find a foothold, seemingly indicating less of a “one step forward, two steps back” situation than seen in previous years. Going forward, it seems like that positive change will continue. </p>
<p id="IYMtXO">Ellis’s introductory letter also calls for more concrete action, asking for a conscious effort from the entertainment industry to set a goal of having 10 percent of series regular characters on primetime broadcast programs be LGBTQ, “ensuring that our entertainment reflects the world in which it is created.” Bit by bit, change is occurring — but as has been the case for years, there is still a lot of work to be done. </p>
https://www.vox.com/tv/2018/10/25/18023590/glaad-lgbtq-representation-tv-pose-supergirlKaren Han2018-10-18T21:00:01-04:002018-10-18T21:00:01-04:00The Good Place is finally back on track
<figure>
<img alt="The Good Place" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/_Q0DVIRk6-qLSUDJCjlPyPmRB7A=/80x0:969x667/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/61829243/NUP_183215_0544.0.jpeg" />
<figcaption>Janet is stuck on Earth now too. Oh no! | NBC</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The show has to frantically pull some strings to keep things moving along, but it has fun in the process.</p> <p id="ARjEnl"><em>Every week, critic at large Todd VanDerWerff and culture writer Karen Han get together to discuss the latest episode of NBC’s loopy comedy </em><a href="http://www.vox.com/the-good-place">The Good Place</a><em>. This week, they’re discussing the fifth episode of the third season, </em><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt8601210/?ref_=tt_eps_cu_n"><em>“Jeremy Bearimy.”</em></a><em> (Because the first two episodes aired as one installment, the number of episodes is one ahead of the number of weeks the show has aired.) </em><em><strong>Spoilers follow! Proceed with caution if you haven’t seen the episode!</strong></em></p>
<p id="LO6Isn"><strong>Karen Han:</strong> I can see clearly now, the rain is gone! And by “rain,” I mean Chidi’s shirt. Okay, so “Jeremy Bearimy” still kind of feels like a transitional episode of <a href="http://www.nbc.com/the-good-place"><em>The Good Place</em></a> — out of the ethical frying pan and into the fire — but it also feels like more of a return to form for the show, and more importantly, everything that happened in <a href="https://www.vox.com/culture/2018/10/11/17964788/the-good-place-season-3-episode-4-recap-the-snowplow-review">the first few episodes of season three</a> now makes sense. Getting to this point might have been a little circuitous, but I think it was worth it!</p>
<p id="VqkgyX">As it turns out, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt4955642/?ref_=tt_ov_inf"><em>The Good Place</em></a> cast’s recent adventures on Earth have been a way for the show to kick off a brand new experiment with a brand new set of stakes. After being caught scheming in front of an interdimensional portal, Michael and Janet are forced to come clean to Eleanor, Chidi, Tahani, and Jason about what’s going on, and the result is somewhat devastating. </p>
<p id="2ROvmG">Now that our core four know the truth about the Good Place, none of the good things they do from here on out count toward them getting into it. Indeed, the mere fact that they know, with certainty, that it exists means they can never get in. Nothing means anything anymore.</p>
<p id="1m9qHm">The resulting revelations and existential crises that define “Jeremy Bearimy” are perfectly tailored to each of <em>The Good Place</em>’s human characters; Chidi, for example, literally loses his shirt as his typical hand-wringing over the moral implications of any given situation is suddenly rendered irrelevant. (Remember in season one’s “Chidi’s Choice” when Eleanor said Chidi is “surprisingly jacked?” She was not joking; the dude is swole!) Meanwhile, Tahani literally starts throwing money around.</p>
<p id="ruDwwa"><em>The Good Place</em>’s explicit explanation of the gang’s different philosophical viewpoints is kind of beautiful, even if it is a little heavy-handed. It’s also necessary grounding for the way the show seems to be about to buck its central mechanic, now that Good Place/Bad Place points are kaput. While the show isn’t doing something radically new, it does seem to be evolving in accordance with its exploration of philosophy. The points were never the point, no pun intended, and we — and the characters — understand that now.</p>
<p id="GdCogy">That said, I’m not sure how Larry Hemsworth figures into the equation (Larry, I’m sorry for the things I said about you last week), or how <em>The Good Place</em> is going to move forward with regard to its plot. Will there be more additions to the gang? How will their new mission to help others be good affect their own moral journeys? </p>
<p id="5vGLwc">These questions have as much potential to flip the script as to stymie the show’s progress. I think I understand where it’s going morally and ethically, but I won’t pretend I can see much further. Not that I’m complaining — unpredictability is a big part of <em>The Good Place</em>’s charm.</p>
<p id="pnNfa9">All in all, I think “Jeremy Bearimy” is solid, and an overall improvement on the preceding episodes if also inextricably built upon them. Todd, did it do anything to boost your confidence as to the direction of season three?</p>
<h3 id="xxMjwj">Finally, season 3 feels like it has the direction it’s been lacking</h3>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt="The Good Place" data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/z97DGl7NCJmj4RUm-gPjqIGiQ_8=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/13295737/NUP_183215_0730.JPG">
<cite>NBC</cite>
<figcaption>Jason and Tahani try just giving some money away.</figcaption>
</figure>
<p id="7IGy4T"><strong>Todd VanDerWerff: </strong>This episode didn’t just have to reboot the entire season. To some degree, it had to reboot the entire show. And you know what? I thought it did a darn good job.</p>
<p id="uIM9a5">After the third season’s first few installments spent a lot of time getting everybody into the same room at the same place and time, it was almost a relief to have the ensemble cast bouncing off of each other all at once, like it was vintage <em>The Good Place</em> season two again or something. </p>
<p id="Tww8I6">“Jeremy Bearimy” is named for, uh, the way that time passes in the afterlife, a weird squiggle of a timeline that resembles the name in the title (just go with it). But where the episode really succeeds is in finding a way to get back to <em>The Good Place</em>’s most basic question of all: How do you be a good person? And, really, why try to be good at all?</p>
<p id="CZPe6h">Shifting the action of the show to Earth was always meant to give these questions more concrete stakes, I suspect. While I never wanted to see Eleanor and Chidi and Tahani and Jason end up in “The Bad Place,” the threat didn’t quite have real teeth. In theory, however, there’s more to lose on this earthly plane, provided the show can find a way to finagle it. What’s smart about “Jeremy” is the way it contorts itself, leaning as far into those stakes as possible. Now the characters can’t get into the Good Place. So what’s the point of ever trying to do good?</p>
<p id="prpuSq">Well, goodness can be its own reward, the episode argues, and while I’m sure this latest development will somehow be undone in a few weeks, I don’t mind the idea of following these characters around while they try to do good things and eat some of Jason’s delicious bag of tacos. </p>
<p id="pE3P9f">The underlying theme of <em>The Good Place</em>, I think, is that any sort of rigid system designed to provide absolute morality barometers is inevitably going to fail, because humans aren’t great at rigidity. Season three has perhaps bitten off more than it can chew a few times in that regard, but it’s at least wrestling with the idea that these questions are no longer just theoretical. They have real-world applications beyond the question of where you go after you die.</p>
<p id="NktoFa">Also, there is no way the Jeremy Bearimy timeline doesn’t come back into play before this season is up, perhaps as a loophole for whatever corner the characters are currently backed into. (Remember: The dot on the I is Tuesdays. Also July. Also never.)</p>
<h3 id="mXCqs9">
<em>The Good Place</em> knows moral change is incremental and doesn’t happen overnight</h3>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt="The Good Place" data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/XVF2FTT0-FELrpw-Mcffpw9_Au0=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/13295751/NUP_183215_1294.JPG">
<cite>NBC</cite>
<figcaption>Maybe Chidi hasn’t figured that out yet, actually.</figcaption>
</figure>
<p id="ZKojGq"><strong>Karen:</strong> Jeremy Bearimy is definitely coming back, and I think the characters’ core traits are, as well. Eleanor and company have definitely changed since they first died. But as we see in this episode, they’re not so far along in their moral development, or rather, they’re still mostly the same people that they were when we first met them.</p>
<p id="SAKb1X">It’s a nice reminder that this kind of moral change is incremental; it doesn’t suddenly happen overnight. That said, everyone has evolved a little bit. Eleanor is quick to return to her previous self-identified status as a trash bag (she really takes that bartender to task), but she’s emotionally vulnerable to the significance of a child’s drawing to a father, even after having to go out of her way to get it to him. And Tahani, though still tethered to her enormous fortune, has a better handle on what to do with it (and true altruism in general) thanks to Jason.</p>
<p id="BjIugT">This episode also serves as a welcome reminder of just how not-human Michael is. His line about humans being goo and juice is hysterical, as is his insistence that their best course of action might be for him to kill them all. Granted, he’s trying to use his demonic powers for good, now, but he still has a little ways to go when it comes to understanding how people work.</p>
<p id="AhaPDp">And, not to take this discussion in a Jeremy Bearimy direction, but the revelation of Jeremy Bearimy is also kind of a reminder of just how wonderfully nutty this show can be — the episode comes close to being the platonic ideal of a <em>Good Place</em> episode, in that it’s chock full of philosophy with a side of supernatural strangeness. </p>
<p id="D83wq4">Again, the fact that all the action is now taking place on Earth is a bit of a restriction, but Michael and Janet’s explanation of Jeremy Bearimy alone is enough of a reminder of the fact that we’ve literally been through heaven and hell to get to this point. (I think it comes back to what you were saying above about rigidity, in that the rigidity of any given setting on the show has eventually been broken in order for the story to progress.)</p>
<p id="LRMNJl">It’s encouraging that being on Earth hasn’t put much of a damper on the proceedings, because it feels a lot like what comes next will also be Earth-bound — and, speaking to one of our biggest concerns from last week’s episode — it seems as though all of the characters will be sticking together for the foreseeable future.</p>
<p id="78YUEs"><strong>Todd: </strong>If there’s something I most appreciated about this episode, it was the ending, which outlined the major schools of moral philosophy, in brief, before Chidi concluded that only nihilism mattered, which he illustrated by making marshmallow and candy chili. (You do you, Chidi.) I’m always impressed with how <em>The Good Place</em> can boil down these major ideas into a few simple sentences, which we understand better because the show itself has found a way to dramatize them.</p>
<p id="L6fa4H">But the paradox of “Jeremy Bearimy” is the way that it depicts what true altruism might look like. Eleanor and the gang have no reason to do good. There’s no reward for them, beyond the nice feeling they might get when they help somebody out, or just give someone $5,000 (AUD). </p>
<p id="1HDrTh">They’re just doing what they know is right, because it might provide them with a short-term boost of good feeling and general warmth toward their fellow human beings. But, as anybody could tell you, that feeling wears off, and the world is full of ways to convince you to think more about yourself than those around you.</p>
<p id="f4GD8s">This is what still makes me ride or die for <em>The Good Place</em>, no matter what weird tangents it takes that I don’t always enjoy. The show has found a way to be didactic — to have old fashioned morals — without really feeling like it’s preaching. I didn’t quite realize how the show was outlining ideas about deontology and consequentialism and so on until it hammered the point home in Chidi’s lecture. I was being made to think about my larger place in the universe, while also laughing at some very silly jokes. And that’s enormously hard to pull off!</p>
<p id="vWIcPX">I’m still a little worried about all the time the characters are going to be spending on Earth, since Michael and Janet seem more or less trapped here, too, but I think there’s something quietly radical about the way <em>The Good Place</em> has twisted itself into pretzels to get to a place where the Good Place, the Bad Place, and even the Medium Place just don’t matter. Rules, regulations, larger ethical codes: They’re all useless if you don’t find a way to put other people first. </p>
<p id="rwCbNu">“Jeremy Bearimy” has its issues here and there — I don’t quite buy that all of the human characters would be so blasé about learning that they died and were resurrected — but it made me feel, for the first time, like season three is on a firm path toward something I’m going to find rewarding on the whole. It took some pretzel logic to get there, but I’m happy to have followed it around its swirling loops and twists in order to re-situate myself in this weird, wonderful world.</p>
<p id="39uqol">(Also: <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm3285043/?ref_=nv_sr_1">My friend Ben</a> played the bartender Eleanor talks to, something I somehow did not know until I watched the screener. Shoutout to Ben. Good work, pal.)</p>
https://www.vox.com/culture/2018/10/18/17993390/the-good-place-season-3-episode-5-jeremy-bearimy-recap-earthKaren HanEmily St. James2018-10-14T10:30:01-04:002018-10-14T10:30:01-04:00In its 37th season, Survivor is still capable of surprising even its hardcore fans
<figure>
<img alt="" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/aGOZnL5wBi5gR_YMd9clK2aRbHA=/7x0:1074x800/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/61756107/112407_13062b.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>This week’s episode of <em>Survivor</em> saw the Goliath tribe suffer their first loss. | CBS</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The long-running CBS reality series is playing to the strengths it’s always had — and developing new ones.</p> <p id="Cxwejd"><em>Every week, we pick a new episode of the week. It could be good. It could be bad. It will always be interesting. You can </em><a href="http://www.vox.com/episode-of-the-week"><em>read the archives here</em></a><em>. The episode of the week for October 7 through 13 is “I am Goliath Strong,” the third episode of the 37th season of CBS’s </em>Survivor.</p>
<p id="jCu7Zl">It seems improbable that <em>Survivor</em> can still shock and surprise in its 37th season — how much drama can you milk out of a single reality show, after all — but the mere fact that the CBS stalwart has been running so long makes it clear that <em>something</em> about its base formula is working. And in the three episodes of season 37 that have aired thus far, that base formula has already yielded multiple bombshell moments.</p>
<p id="EiLQUd">The gimmick this season — beyond the usual “strand a diverse group of people in a tropical setting, divide them into teams, and make them fend for themselves” construct — is “David vs. Goliath.” One of the two teams is comprised of underdogs, i.e. “Davids,” while the other is made up of overachievers seen to have every advantage, i.e. “Goliaths.” It’s a distinction that’s almost immediately visible — most of the Goliaths<strong> </strong>are clearly more athletic types, while most of the Davids are a scrawnier bunch; the Goliaths just look like they have a better chance of surviving in the wild. </p>
<p id="3ehKpf">For the first two weeks of the season, it seemed like those designations were actually going to have a significant effect on the game: The Goliaths won both challenges, regardless of whether the challenges required more brains or brawn. All of a sudden, the Davids were down two members, not only because their losses meant they were subject to Tribal Council, but because of an emergency, as David team member Pat Cusack had to be medically evacuated in the season premiere after injuring his back in a freak boat accident. (Host Jeff Probst took pity on the Davids following the incident, sparing them a Tribal Council for that episode.)</p>
<p id="TCeVG2">But the time to get complacent with expectations is over. Episode 2, “The Chicken Has Flown the Coop,” ended with an upset, as Jessica Peet was voted out of the David tribe over the expected “weak link” Lyrsa Torres after a last-minute round of votes. The twist put some cracks in the David tribe’s foundation — and then this week’s third episode, “I am Goliath Strong,” ended with the previously solid Goliath tribe in much the same position. Jeremy Crawford, one of the stronger players on the team, was sent home instead of Natalie Cole, who’d been the subject of elimination whispers since the beginning of the game. </p>
<p id="NTXnMJ">It’s an understatement to say that the machinations of season 37 already feel particularly sharp (and more than a little petty). That has everything to do with <em>Survivor</em> playing to its known strengths of assembling dynamic casts and forcing contestants to strategize, both together and apart — and stirring up drama in the process. But what’s especially fascinating about the season so far is how it’s relying on the same old strengths that were present when the show debuted nearly two decades ago, while simultaneously showing off new ones that have emerged over its tenure. </p>
<h3 id="FCPNaw">
<em>Survivor</em>’s 37th season is thrilling because its contestants already know how to game the system </h3>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt=" " data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/CxWmUGxcQEQx3x_X6nsR3sqMFOI=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/13260939/112407_12894b.jpg">
<cite>CBS</cite>
<figcaption>In the hot seat this week: Jeremy Crawford and Natalie Cole.</figcaption>
</figure>
<p id="bahLXB"><em>Survivor</em> has been on the air for too long for the people competing on it to not be fans. In the season 37 premiere, one of the show’s more famous longtime-viewers-turned-contestants — Mike White, who you may recognize as <em>School of Rock</em>’s Ned Schneebly — even professed his <em>Survivor</em> fanaticism in one of his testimonials to the camera. And the kind of strategizing that’s evolved out of that inevitability has altered the way the game is played.</p>
<p id="Zrtz2O">In the first two episodes of this season, it seemed foretold that, were the Goliaths to ever be sent to Tribal Council, Natalie Cole would be the one going home. Directly or indirectly, she’d managed to antagonize most of her teammates, and there’d already been conversations brewing about voting her out. When she failed to complete this week’s puzzle challenge in time — marking the Goliath tribe’s first loss — her exit seemed nearly guaranteed. </p>
<p id="I8zDql">That the votes abruptly turned and Crawford was ousted instead speaks to <em>Survivor</em>’s reach — the members of the Goliath tribe were thinking not just in terms of personal relationships, but in terms of what would make the game easier to win for themselves. Cole came across as dead weight for the team, but she didn’t seem like a threat. Crawford, in contrast, appeared to have a shot at ultimately winning the game. He was strong enough to win physical challenges, and smart enough to try to stack the team deck in his favor. So he had to go.</p>
<p id="N3UK6A">But what was even more shocking than Crawford being voted out was that the vote against him (apart from Cole’s, of course) was unanimous. The idea that a strong competitor like Crawford had to be eliminated to clear a path for the rest of the tribe seemed to have taken root. Even White, who had formed something of an alliance with Crawford over the course of the past two episodes, voted for Crawford to be sent home, not wanting to rock the boat.</p>
<p id="HfKukU">If nothing else, White’s vote emphasizes how people are now playing the game. From the season’s first episode, in which he snuck away from the camp to find an immunity idol (a move that’s since been copied by other players, from both tribes), he’s been playing with long-term strategy in mind. That approach is something he clearly developed as a fan of the show, over the course of 36 prior seasons’ worth of study.</p>
<h3 id="M7a9dj">Putting together a dynamic cast is key to the show’s survival</h3>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt=" " data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/LkfHYuc_9GZ9ZEWKMH8izTdwk1M=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/13260941/112408_4630b.jpg">
<cite>CBS</cite>
<figcaption>America’s sweetheart Mike White, and “Mayor of Slamtown” John Hennigan.</figcaption>
</figure>
<p id="wWQHXu">If there’s another ingredient in just how great season 37 has been so far, it’s that the casting department struck gold when choosing contestants. They reflect the usual amount of reality TV engineering, sure, but what’s genius is the way that almost every member of the cast seems to fit a certain niche — from the jock to the nerd. By focusing on recruiting contestants who can build and inform an overarching story rather than just being cutthroat competitors, <em>Survivor</em> has added an extra emotional hook in a show that easily could have gone stale after so many years.</p>
<p id="b1s2Nm">It still strikes me as a minor miracle, for instance, that White is on the show at all. The fact that he’s a (relatively) public figure makes it feel like you’re seeing someone you know on your TV screen, maybe a friend of a friend of a friend. He’s also just a delight to watch; that his sheer devotion to <em>Survivor</em> is part of what got him cast is endearing (in <a href="https://www.indiewire.com/2018/09/mike-white-survivor-contestant-amazing-race-school-of-rock-1202007423/">an interview with Indiewire</a>, he said that he’d hounded the show’s producers for years — though he had to go through the same casting process as<strong> </strong>everybody else), as is the fact that he seems to be a Goliath odd duck. </p>
<p id="zWDBjd">In this season’s first episode, White was somewhat amazed by the other members of his team, e.g. people who look to be in tip-top shape and are more<strong> </strong>conventionally attractive, whereas he described himself as “not one of the beautiful people.” It’s a kind of self-deprecation that has persisted throughout subsequent episodes as well.</p>
<p id="j13FY8">Then there’s the other Wikipedia-able member of this season’s cast, professional wrestler and White’s fellow Goliath teammate<strong> </strong>John Hennigan, who refers to himself as the “Mayor of Slamtown.” Like White, he comes from an entertainment background and thereby knows how to embody and sell a certain persona. He has said that <em>Survivor</em> is his chance to play as himself, not as his wrestling alter ego. But his statements that he is using the game to develop “old-school human skills,” like “conversations and laughing with friends” — made in apparent earnestness<strong> </strong>during a testimonial aside — seem like Slamtown sayings more than anything else.</p>
<p id="bPemWI">They’re real people, but they slot into archetypes that lend <em>Survivor</em> a more narrative shape, especially against the more familiar backdrop of in-fighting and backstabbing, alliance-making and showmancing.<strong> </strong>(If you told me that the David team’s Christian Hubicki, who White referred to as “Big Bang Theory” in the season premiere, had been made up and scripted to fit the nerd archetype, I would believe it. Hubicki really is that nerdy, and it’s great.) The effect has brought plenty of intrigue to a 37-season-old formula. After all this time, <em>Survivor</em> is still making waves by<strong> </strong>showcasing all of its strengths, both new and old. </p>
<p id="yZHRVV">Survivor <em>airs Wednesdays at 8 pm Eastern on CBS.</em></p>
https://www.vox.com/2018/10/14/17968430/survivor-season-37-episode-3-recap-reviewKaren Han2018-10-12T11:16:27-04:002018-10-12T11:16:27-04:00True Detective season 3 premieres January 13. Here’s everything we know so far.
<figure>
<img alt="Mahershala Ali stars in the new season of True Detective." src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/iupAuhPT0vfmyfBLZSDw9TZY9aw=/182x0:1243x796/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/61067079/image__3_.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>HBO</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Could a trailer full of crossing timelines signal a return to form?</p> <p id="jB09dP">Since its premiere in 2014, HBO’s <a href="https://www.vox.com/true-detective/archives"><em>True Detective</em></a> has been a source of contention, which has as much to do with untangling the mystery at the center of each season as trying to discern whether the show is <a href="https://www.vox.com/2015/8/12/9138673/true-detective-season-2-top-moments">good</a> or <a href="https://www.vox.com/2015/8/10/9125723/true-detective-finale-recap-season-2">not</a>. </p>
<p id="mYJIG2">Even the much-discussed, generally lauded first season faced <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2014/03/03/cool-story-bro">its share of criticism</a>. And that’s to say nothing of rumors of <a href="http://www.vulture.com/2015/07/nic-pizzolatto-cary-fukunaga-true-detective-feud.html">off-screen drama</a> between series creator Nic Pizzolatto and director Cary Fukunaga. Tension between the two was rumored<strong> </strong>to be part of why Fukunaga didn’t return for <em>True Detective</em>’s second season —<strong> </strong>which, under Pizzolatto’s sole vision, featured<strong> </strong>an abrasive film director character<strong> </strong>that many observers<strong> </strong>took to be a potshot.</p>
<p id="3PGSZ6">But no matter what you may think of it, the anthology series remains an object of fascination, particularly with the big-name actors it keeps pulling in. Season three stars <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0991810/">Mahershala Ali</a>, who’s fresh off an Oscar win for <em>Moonlight.</em> And like <em>True Detective</em>’s first season, season three seems to be playing with the notion of time. The first trailer hints that as the characters grapple with the fallout of what appears to be a kidnapping, Ali’s character will be forced to deal with literal ghosts from his past.</p>
<p id="lIKFCW">Here’s everything else we know about the season so far. </p>
<h3 id="cA9qmM">
<em>True Detective</em> season three will debut<strong> </strong>in January 2019</h3>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt=" " data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/8-t2RoNE5HIiVs0Npr-QG5wqlm8=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/13260135/true_detective_season_3_d.jpeg">
<cite>HBO</cite>
<figcaption>Mahershala Ali and Stephen Dorff in the upcoming season of <em>True Detective.</em>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p id="qAibAt">HBO announced in October that <em>True Detective</em>’s third season will premiere Sunday, January 13. That will make for one of the longest waits between TV<strong> </strong>seasons in recent memory, given that season two ended in August of 2015.</p>
<aside id="nxWlbo"><div data-anthem-component="readmore" data-anthem-component-data='{"stories":[{"title":"Why your favorite TV shows are off the air for so long between seasons","url":"https://www.vox.com/culture/2018/8/9/17662280/tv-shows-gone-too-long-gaps-breaks-between-seasons"}]}'></div></aside><p id="xpsbhc">Just like the first two seasons of <em>True Detective</em>, season three will run for eight episodes. Series creator Nic Pizzolatto is writing all eight, though <a href="https://www.vox.com/2018/7/25/17613350/deadwood-hbo-movie-officially-greenlit-tca"><em>Deadwood</em></a> creator David Milch has a co-writing credit on episode four. Pizzolatto is also making his directorial debut in season three, with Jeremy Saulnier (<em>Green Room</em>) directing two episodes as well.</p>
<p id="kjD5SD">And though season one characters Rust Cohle and Marty Hart aren’t slated to return due to <em>True Detective</em>’s status as an anthology that tells a completely new story each season, season one stars Matthew McConaughey and Woody Harrelson are serving as executive producers for season three, as is season one director Fukunaga.</p>
<h3 id="vIawab">The story will once again span decades, and feature a high-wattage cast</h3>
<p id="NGqL2n">Set in the Ozark in Arkansas <em>True Detective</em> season three will span three decades, centering on a case involving two missing children. <a href="https://www.hbo.com/true-detective/season-3/season-3-everything-you-need-to-know-cast-trailer">Leading the investigation</a> are Wayne Hays (Ali), a “state police detective from Northwest Arkansas,” and Roland West (Stephen Dorff), an “Arkansas State Investigator.”</p>
<p id="SkVvSR">Filling out the season three cast are: </p>
<ul>
<li id="3w4zz7">
<a href="https://variety.com/2017/tv/news/true-detective-carmen-ejogo-1202618089/">Carmen Ejogo</a> as Amelia Reardon, a schoolteacher somehow connected to the two missing children (and, judging by the trailer, romantically linked to Hays) </li>
<li id="AihBdU">
<a href="https://deadline.com/2018/07/true-detective-deborah-ayorinde-recur-season-3-hbo-series-1202427381/">Deborah Ayorinde</a> as Becca Hays, Wayne’s estranged daughter</li>
<li id="UbD1kw">
<a href="https://deadline.com/2018/05/true-detective-josh-hopkins-jodi-balfour-recur-season-3-hbo-series-1202385325/">Jodi Balfour</a> as Lori, West’s love interest</li>
<li id="c1M46q">
<a href="https://deadline.com/2018/05/true-detective-josh-hopkins-jodi-balfour-recur-season-3-hbo-series-1202385325/">Lonnie Chavis</a> and <a href="https://deadline.com/2018/02/true-detective-ray-fisher-series-regular-season-3-hbo-anthology-series-rhys-wakefield-michael-greyeyes-jon-tenney-1202288471/">Ray Fisher</a> as Hays’s son Freddy Burns, in childhood and adulthood, respectively </li>
<li id="v2BJFu">
<a href="https://deadline.com/2018/01/true-detective-scoot-mcnairy-cast-season-3-hbo-anthology-series-1202244190/">Scoot McNairy</a> as Tom, “a father who suffers a terrible loss which ties his fate to that of two state police detectives over ten years”</li>
<li id="m8ZXdb">
<a href="https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/live-feed/true-detective-enlists-mamie-gummer-season-3-1082031">Mamie Gummer</a> as Lucy Purcell, “a young mother of two at the center of a tragic crime”</li>
<li id="c24Eah">
<a href="https://deadline.com/2018/05/true-detective-josh-hopkins-jodi-balfour-recur-season-3-hbo-series-1202385325/">Josh Hopkins</a> as Jim Dobkins, “a private attorney in Fayetteville, Arkansas involved in deposing state police detectives in an ongoing investigation”</li>
</ul>
<p id="qrdBHb">Michael Greyeyes, Jon Tenney, Rhys Wakefield, Sarah Gadon, Emily Nelson, Brandon Flynn, and Michael Graziadei will also appear in the season, though details about their characters have not yet been released. </p>
https://www.vox.com/2018/8/29/17792030/true-detective-season-3-premiere-date-trailer-casting-spoilersKaren Han2018-10-06T10:30:01-04:002018-10-06T10:30:01-04:00The Man in the High Castle season 3 has too many characters, too little time
<figure>
<img alt="" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/hMcbAEJv-Y-kjmc3OLhZr52qSk4=/300x0:3900x2700/1310x983/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/61672197/the_man_in_the_high_castle_season_3_MITHC_303_11178_RT_S1_rgb.0.jpg" />
<figcaption>Rufus Sewell remains <em>The Man in the High Castle</em>’s MVP. | Liane Hentscher/Amazon Prime Video</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The series is still more interested in showing off its big ideas than developing its individual characters.</p> <p id="Qtujcr">Since <em>The Man in the High Castle</em>’s first season<em><strong> </strong></em>premiered on Amazon in 2015 (well, really, since the publication of Philip K. Dick’s novel of the same name in 1962), it’s been a story capable<strong> </strong>of generating images that chill to the bone. The alternate history it posits, in which the Axis powers won World War II, would be frightening even if we weren’t living in a present in which Nazi imagery is suddenly prominent once again. But our current reality makes the series’ initial premise of exploring how we would fare under fascist rule — and suggesting that we would go along with it rather than risk the consequences of opposition — even more deeply unsettling.</p>
<p id="N1N9Ga">That isn’t to say, however, that <em>The Man in the High Castle</em> has always managed to live up to its potential. Reviewing the second season, my colleague Todd VanDerWerff called it “<a href="https://www.vox.com/culture/2016/12/19/13995878/the-man-in-the-high-castle-review-season-2-amazon-worst">the worst TV show of 2016</a>,” citing the season’s lack of a showrunner and its veering into more caricaturist territory as crippling developments. </p>
<p id="KIgok2">The new third season has acquired a captain at the helm — Eric Overmyer, whose prior work includes <em>The Wire</em>, <em>Treme</em>, and <em>Bosch</em> — and it’s better off for it. That said, it’s treading inherently uneven ground due to the foundation laid in season two’s foray into overt science fiction adventure territory.</p>
<p id="RZl1i5">The season one<strong> </strong>finale, in which Japanese Trade Minister Tagomi (Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa) traveled into a world in which the outcome of WWII was more similar to our own, felt like a game changer — one on which the second season failed to deliver, making traveling through dimensions more of an “oh, look, isn’t this cool” gimmick rather than using it to support the first season’s more difficult ideas about our roles in society.</p>
<div class="c-float-right"><aside id="IVWDqI"><div data-anthem-component="ratingcard" data-anthem-component-data='{"rating":3.5,"title":"The Man in the High Castle Season 3"}'></div></aside></div>
<p id="YW63AS">Season three goes some way toward course-correcting, but there’s too much of it to be done within the space of a single season — and <em>The Man in the High Castle</em> still carries<strong> </strong>a not-insignificant amount of dead weight.</p>
<h3 id="noROA3">
<em>The Man in the High Castle</em> undermines itself by trying to do too much</h3>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt=" " data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/a2cazwOeWILDdw-wl04ul3p6oAA=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/13223693/the_man_in_the_high_castle_season_3_MITHC_309_24421.RT.LA.FNL_rgb.jpg">
<cite>Liane Hentscher/Amazon Prime Video</cite>
<figcaption>Jason O’Mara and Alexa Davalos.</figcaption>
</figure>
<p id="uqmVTS"><em>The Man in the High Castle</em>’s large cast is a necessity born of the expansive story it’s trying to tell, but committing to being an ensemble piece is a gamble the show is losing. Not every character is crucial enough to support the amount of time spent with them, and some of the characters reinforce a black-and-white, good/bad binary that works against the more complex points the series is trying to make.</p>
<p id="jsdzvw">Juliana Crain (Alexa Davalos), for instance, is supposed to be the crux of the series, as the man in the high castle himself (Stephen Root, a great actor wasted in a MacGuffin of a role) has named her as crucial in the collection of the newsreel-style<strong> </strong>films that tell of alternate universes<strong> </strong>and are at the heart of the series’ resistance movement. But in the shadow of her grand mission, her character has become so impersonal — a figurehead rather than a living, breathing character — that it’s hard to care what happens to her. </p>
<p id="zO5ERl">It gets worse as she’s shuttled through love interests (a problem that, frankly, the entire season has, as if Amazon were trying to compete with HBO to get literal skin in the game), with her past living under Japanese occupation almost utterly erased for the sake of getting her elsewhere in the story. One almost wishes that more central duties had been passed to her erstwhile boyfriend, Frank (Rupert Evans), who, as the series has progressed, has struggled with embracing his Jewish heritage. </p>
<p id="k3OZuN">It’s telling of the series’ strengths that the grander storyline Juliana is involved with is less interesting than the minutiae of the lives of the people around her. One of the reasons I’ve always had a soft spot for <em>The Man in the High Castle</em> is its take on what would have happened had the US been under not just German occupation but Japanese occupation as well. That thread — which incorporates American history of internment camps, as well as issues of racism, fetishization, and commodification of a foreign culture — is seldom seen in any form in any other media, and it’s rarely acknowledged just how distinctly American and European culture shaped Asian culture, particularly in the postwar period. An inversion of that history, in which Americans practice aikido or grow fluent in Japanese social customs in order to get by, is fascinating to watch the show parse. </p>
<p id="aY8o8Z">However, that element of Juliana’s history seems to have been largely forgotten, and the series is depriving itself — and its viewers — of a fascinating, personal element that would add some much-needed dimensionality to the character and her story.<strong> </strong></p>
<p id="TgjZfS">There’s some further exploration of these ideas<strong> </strong>as the third season introduces a half-Japanese character employed by the Kempeitai, as his character speaks accented Japanese and has to remind himself of etiquette. But it’s a thread that’s abandoned so quickly it mostly just serves to<strong> </strong>shed light on just how thinly the show is spread.</p>
<h3 id="QjGEoW">The series is finding its feet again, but it still hasn’t mastered the balance between its grand ideas and its individual characters</h3>
<figure class="e-image">
<img alt=" " data-mask-text="false" src="https://cdn.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/4URac3Hv4IwcNIush1RpThINtXw=/800x0/filters:no_upscale()/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/13223707/the_man_in_the_high_castle_season_3_MITHC_301_04022.RT.LA.FNL_rgb.jpg">
<cite>Liane Hentscher/Amazon Prime Video</cite>
<figcaption>Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa as Nobusuke Tagomi.</figcaption>
</figure>
<p id="OZSZae">Rufus Sewell, playing American Nazi officer John Smith, remains perhaps the best part of the show, not least because the universe-melding affects him personally. </p>
<p id="xlaHnT">In the last season, he went to extraordinary lengths to save his son from the fate that awaited anyone with a congenital disease in the Reich, only to be foiled when his son, striving to follow in his father’s footsteps, turned himself in to be killed. As the third season opens, his son has been branded a Nazi hero for his actions, and the way it eats away at him (in a way reminiscent of Gene Hackman’s descent into madness in <em>The Conversation</em>) and affects his family is the most compelling part of the season.</p>
<p id="L5AVam">Granted, Smith also gets a look at the films that power the series’ main story engine, but his individual storyline isn’t utterly dependent on the existence of alternate realities, and he fares the best as a result. </p>
<p id="fMGDVJ">Though it may seem contradictory, the more personal nature of his segments makes the broader points they reinforce more striking. The season premiere features a ceremony in his son’s memory during which schoolchildren spontaneously stand to salute the boy’s portrait, and it’s chilling to watch a moment that, despite taking place in a fictional alternate universe, suddenly doesn’t seem so very far from our reality. </p>
<p id="AmnPlD">The third season makes further efforts at relevance, working in new storylines about homosexuality under Nazi reign, but as with the universe-jumping the series now relies on, such efforts don’t really work when they’re not grounded in something more personal and character-based. It’s a little ironic given the new season’s focus on the production of propaganda and resistance through art; there’s a balance that must be struck between communicating larger ideas and making a personal connection. <em>The Man in the High Castle</em> just hasn’t found it yet.</p>
<p id="Sc1TsD">The Man in the High Castle <em>is streaming now on Amazon Prime.</em></p>
https://www.vox.com/culture/2018/10/6/17943498/the-man-in-the-high-castle-review-season-3-amazonKaren Han