[Hot Tea] January 24th - February 6th
Serving #10
O, readers! Welcome back for our tenth serving of Hot Tea!
Because it is now our tenth(!) time getting together to discuss what’s new in streaming media, this episode is extra packed. I’m rolling a metaphorical tea cart here today, because our standard tea tray just wouldn’t do.
As a reminder (and for any new readers out there), this series — which I publish at least every two weeks by midweek — is dedicated to helping friends answer the question, “What should I watch now online?" So, at the end of each entry in a serving (or episode), after a pithy synopsis and my personal take, is a ‘Temperature Check’ on the entry on the following scale:
“Steaming” for content that carries my sincerest recommendation,
“Hot” for content that is good but not crucial,
“Tepid” for content that is fair but quite missable,
“Cold” for content that is poor but not impossible, or
“Ice” for content that I watched so that I could warn you not to.
So, let me “be mother” and pour. I hope you came thirsty.
The Gilded Age (Series Premiere)
HBOMax - Drama - Upstairs Downstairs
Synopsis
A staunch and wealthy widow abjures the arrivistes, while taking in an ingénue niece and an aspiring writer, in late 19th-century New York City.
My take
“I tell you, if there’s anything worse than a staunch woman [then I don’t know it.] ... S-T-A-U-N-C-H — there’s nothing worse, I’m telling you. They don’t weaken, no matter what.”
— ‘Little Edie’ Beale (Grey Gardens, 1976)
I wondered when they’d ask Julian Fellowes to repeat his Downton Abbey success for especially American audiences. An Emmy-winner for that eventually extremely popular show and an Oscar winner for Altman’s (1999) Gosford Park, the ‘film that started it all,’ the man uniquely specializes in presenting ‘upstairs-downstairs’ dramas set in the new industrial period of peace and excess before the First World War in Western Europe and the United States; and, with that distinct flair for drama, I knew it wouldn’t be long before he cropped up again in the mainstream1 with another.
Fortunately for us, this time the material shines. Like a suitably period steam locomotive, the writing jumps and hisses, crawling slowly as we first leave the station, with soot staining the air. Yet then, once we’re out on the tracks and moving, why, one can’t help but think, ‘this is a wonder of modern technology.’ City streets gleam, sets and costumes awe in both their large and small details, and the cast — o, the cast! — plucked largely from the finest talent gracing the New York stage fits perfectly, like an elbow-length glove. Christine Baranski and Carrie Coon are especially well cast as the shows’ two competing leads and carry the mien and the language of those opposing roles excellently. One can even hear the dramatic counterpoint in their voices, accented plainly but distinctly to meet their separate positions, Baranski the staunch widow of old society and Coon the equally resolute parvenu, moving in literally across the street. Frankly, at a nearly 1.5-hour runtime — the meatiest single-episode television series premiere I’ve seen probably ever — I’m sure that, had the episode been released theatrically as a stand-alone film, it’d be in the conversation for nominations and awards (especially in the artistic and technical categories) for films released this year. It’ll certainly hit the next Emmy awards heavily in those categories.
And so it should, for on top of the technical excellence the show brings to the immaculately set table perhaps its best feature, one that distinguishes it from practically all of Fellowes’ prior work, is that, as my chosen image above illustrates, the show foregrounds a story we’re not accustomed to seeing in these crispy period dramas: that of a working-to-middle class Black woman who is an independent thinker, creative mind, and self-aware member of society. As Patia Braithwaite for Bloomberg writes,
I’m always thrilled to see Black actors employed. But often, when Black characters show up on predominantly White television shows, Black viewers must brace themselves as those characters become testaments to trauma or, worse, plot devices to help White characters (and viewers) grow.
[…]
Peggy [however] has something we rarely see on television, a quality the poet Elizabeth Alexander calls “the black interior,” a metaphorical “black life and creativity behind the public face of stereotype and limited imagination.” It’s incredibly hard for an actress to convey something so intangible and even rarer for a White writer to craft a Black character who possesses it.
We’ve definitely seen some excellent and diverse series and season premieres from HBOMax within the past year (e.g., Euphoria, Gossip Girl, The Sex Lives of College Girls, Industry, The White Lotus). Yet this one, readers, for its sheer ambition realized is likely the very best. Let’s truly hope that it is able to keep up its excellent fire throughout the remaining nine episodes of its first season (and any new season that follows).
Don’t weaken, show runners.
Temperature check
Steaming (like the golden pipes of progress)
Aziz Ansari: Nightclub Comedian
Netflix - Comedy - Stand-Up
Synopsis
In an impromptu set at the Comedy Cellar in Manhattan, December 2021, comedian Aziz Ansari spotlights prominent follies of our technology-mediated society.
My take
Despite the brief social reprobation Ansari faced in 2018 and despite my never having really watched Parks and Recreation (Daniels & Schur [creators], 2009-2015), the show in which he first rose to broad American consciousness, I’ve long been a fan of Aziz Ansari’s calmly critical comedy. He finds wit and truth in observing the oddities of life, as many a great comedian does, and presents them casually, as if at a thoughtful but light dinner party, in ways that are eminently relatable to contemporary audiences. Moreover, he generally advocates for sensitive intelligence and empathy in interpersonal and intrapersonal relationships. His Netflix series Master of None (2019-2021) was by and large a brilliant example of this perspective, and his stand-up specials (unlike many others’) have actually made me laugh aloud, even when I’m watching at home alone.
So, when I saw that he had snuck back onto Netflix this past week with a new shorter-than-usual special, filmed last month during an equally ‘impromptu’ appearance at the Comedy Cellar in Manhattan, I was seriously intrigued. It had been a while. What had he been up to? What new observations did he have to share?
Not only did it turn out that the actor-comedian had been living in London recently, but also did it turn out that his time away had been fairly well spent on considering new oddities of our present times; and I laughed — aloud at the gym, while watching and listening during single-leg split squats, and had to put down the bar for safety once or twice. I won’t spoil the humor for you, readers; the bounty of comedy is definitely in its spontaneity. Suffice it for me to say to you instead, that this one is worth hearing.
Temperature check
Hot
Nightmare Alley
HBOMax - Drama - Undoing Illusions
Synopsis
A man on the run from his past stows away in a carnival, where his ambition takes him on a journey he did not expect.
My take
I actually went to a theater to see this one, readers, about two weeks ago, when news of its release on a streaming platform wasn’t even a flicker on my radar. I definitely had thoughts as I walked myself home from the theater and, while I could have written a one-time review for this Substack, I’m actually really glad that the film’s new release on HBOMax has given me the opportunity to share them with you now as part of this latest serving of Hot Tea.
My biggest thought upon emerging from the credit roll was that director and writer Guillermo del Toro, a 2006 ‘Rich Pick’ for his Spanish-language film El Laberinto del Fauno (Pan’s Labyrinth) and 2017 nominee and Oscar winner for his English-language The Shape of Water, loves mythical world building — really loves it. The strongest parts of his newest film, the English-language noir Nightmare Alley, are the world-building parts: the quiet subtle dressings of the world the characters inhabit, the sleek or spectacular clothes they wear, and the period stylings they present in hair and make-up. All these pieces work together marvelously, to deliver the rough but scrappy circus, the polished and chill psychiatrist’s office, and the expansive millionaire’s domain (among other locations) defining the major plot points in the narrative, and do so implicitly, informing the viewer of the mood, strength, and even socioëconomic context of the action and the people on screen wordlessly and immediately, so that the action and the dialogue can carry forward the actual storyline without being bogged down by needless contextual expositions.
What I’m describing of course, readers, is actually just Production Design, Costume Design, and Hair & Make-up Design all doing their jobs properly for a film; but it’s actually surprising to me how infrequently those jobs seem to be done so seamlessly. Perhaps it’s Mr. del Toro’s affection for world-building, or so I conjectured to myself, that helped this film hit those notes so clearly.
Following that mention, I think the greatest accolade I can give to the film is for Cate’s supporting performance as Dr. Lilith Ritter, psychiatrist and affectionate foil for Bradley Cooper and Rooney Mara’s characters and love story. As far as Cate’s performances go, it’s not one of the best; but then it’s Cate we’re talking about, so it still ranks quite high among this year’s eligible Supporting Actress entries. Cooper and Mara, on the other hand, blandly suffice in their leading roles.
Final hat tips go to Toni Collette and composer Nathan Johnson for also turning in good work along the previous lines.
Unfortunately, despite all these high points, the film ultimately shudders to a halt with a “surprise” ending that at least I could see coming 10,000 yards away. The screenplay, an adaptation of Gresham’s 1946 novel of the same title, just doesn’t really work. It’s bloated upfront and far too lean toward the ending, and both the writers (including del Toro himself) and the editor are to account for this imbalance. I’m not quite sure how this happened; I’m familiar with much of del Toro’s past work, and it usually strikes a fair balance, whatever its structure. Pan’s Labyrinth, for example, hit a beautiful 0.5-1-1-0.5-1-1 cadence. Nightmare Alley, by contrast, is more like 1-2-3-2-0.5-0.01, which is awkward to even type out. Not knowing the original material, I can only surmise, perhaps del Toro’s affection for world building was a double-edged sword here, at first inspiring him to expand the plot with details but then ultimately crippling his ability to conclude it with any commensurate dedication (lest he release a four-or-more-hour film). Whatever the explanation, the outcome remains the same.
Temperature check
Tepid (with a bracing breeze)
The Woman in the House across the Street from the Girl in the Window
Netflix - Parody - Psychological Thriller
Synopsis
A depressed artist makes it her personal mission to solve a murder she believes she witnessed in the house across the street.
My take
Props to Kristen Bell for thinking that she could carry an entire season of television in parody of a single ~100-minute Netflix film from last year. The result of her endeavor is not awful, but leaves a lot to be desired — mostly because, in order to try to expand the runtime to a full season’s length, the screenplay takes itself not just as a simple parody but moreover as an actual self-deluded drama. We in the audience are not just supposed to laugh at the clear coincidences between this new material and its often referenced source, but actually then somehow track and follow the drama born only in service of those increasingly scant laughs? No, no, no, readers; I protest.
Actually, let’s spend no more words here than to say, if you’ve read the title above and seen the original film, you’ve gotten the joke and that is all you need to know.
Temperature check
Cold
And Just like That… The Documentary
HBOMax - Documentary - Behind the Scenes
Synopsis
The creators and technicians behind the HBOMax original series And Just Like That… discuss the production of the show’s recent first season, with an emphasis on the look and feel of the show and its connection with its predecessor, Sex and the City (Star [creator], 1998-2004).
My take
Readers, I’m openly admitting, I’m going to use this space, designated for the new And Just Like That… documentary on HBOMax, as an excuse to dip into a bookend mention of the new series itself, which has just concluded its first season with its tenth episode this past Thursday. However, for the record: The documentary, a behind-the-scenes look at the production of And Just Like That…, opened that door for me; I’m just walking through it.
The documentary (perhaps unavoidably) constantly makes references to the original Sex and the City through the work it features on the parts of the cinematographer, the actors, the writers, the script supervisor, and especially the costume designer. Picking up the legacy of Sex and the City requires picking up the legacy of all those pieces, and in a way it’s comforting to know that the current show runners knew at least that much when they were considering what to put on our screens after the central characters’ substantial hiätus.
Reflecting on the work those people then manifested throughout this new season, I have to say, with the exception of the writers’, their choices were mostly fair; the look and feel of the show did only seldom stray from feeling like a mature, current version of Sex and the City, one stemming directly from where we left off at the end of its sixth and final television season (however much its legacy may have been transmogrified into an Atlantic City showpiece in its two movies).
The point, however, remains that, despite this continuity in look and feel, the discontinuity in tone and subject at the fault of the writers, frankly, mangled the spirit of many an individual character and of certainly the overall show — repeatedly. There were only two episodes this entire season that for the most part felt like true episodes of a Sex and the City franchise.2 Otherwise, the story was a parade of out-of-touch maladies and off-key melodies; no longer the single’s quest for love, no, the aged generation’s trudge through “a brave new world” cleaves toward its history of relevance for continued popularity after finding little of its own originality to show.
So, it’s still a pass for me, readers, and so is the documentary, a piece that gets by like its subject on the merits of its wispy reminisces, not its own substantial focus. It’s as if both perceive their value to the world as rooted in the past and so attempt to live there without realizing that of course they can’t. It’s a sad reality that no one printing the storylines seems actually brave enough to face. Perhaps it’s what the showrunners and documentarians feel they owe us in their audience: an active portal to a time when they had real things to say and craved our ear for them. Now, at a moment when we crave those real things again, they’re voiceless.
I’m reminded of dialogue from one of my all-time favorite films, Andrew Haigh’s (2011) Weekend:
“I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here, to be honest.”
“No, you don’t mean that.”
“I do — mmh, maybe I don’t. Just my friends! Sometimes they’re like a noose around my neck. Do you know what I mean?”
“No, I gotta be honest with you, I don’t really know what you mean.”
“It’s like, when you’ve had the same friends for too long, they become like — everything becomes cemented…”
“What? And that’s a bad thing, is it?”
“Of course it’s a bad thing! I don’t want to be in fucking concrete, thank you very much. It’s like they won’t let you — they won’t let you be any version of yourself except an old version or the version that they want you to be.”
“I hope that’s not true.”
“You know it’s true! And who wants to know they’re in the shit? If they see you trying to crawl out, they’re very happy to drag you back in.”
“Oh, and that’s what you’re trying to do, is it?! You’re trying to drag yourself ‘out of the shit.’”
“I’m trying to…redraw myself.”
“Of course, you being the artist that you are.”
“Exactly, exactly. But everyone keeps fucking hiding my pencils.”
It’s a shame that it never really came together, this hodgepodge of a wish for more from everyone, myself included; but And Just Like That… you missed the mark.
Temperature check
Cold
The Legend of Vox Machina
Amazon Prime - Comedy / Drama – Underdogs Rejoin
Synopsis
A ragtag group of mercenaries seeks recognition and reward for their efforts despite their unorthodox appearance.
My take
The Legend of Vox Machina has an identity problem: How can a premise about a misfit troupe of underdogs live as a series about a group of heroes?
The solution the series appears to be going with is to define the majority — or, at least, the aspirational identity — of the in-show world as an ostentation of brutish power, from which line in the sand the show can then clearly demarcate a negative difference to travel toward a feathering of “off-stage” abilities — which still remain plausibly effective at thwarting evil whenever the need arises. Never mind how revealing that plausibility may still impress at-home audiences….
It’s a tension that requires a leap of faith to enjoy, but whoever wants to leap may find the ride thereafter mostly pleasant. The animation style and hijinks are entertaining and sufficiently engaging, especially to a palate friendly to animated storytelling. The voice acting is fun and lends the actors latitude to personalize their characters. Above all, the grounding of the material in Dungeons & Dragons lore helps this new series pull out a bit ahead of many of its cultural siblings — though not quite as memorably as its nearest relative, Harmonquest (Harmon & Crittenden [creators], 2016-2019), a comedy that certainly knew what it both was and was not doing. So, even though there’s little we haven’t seen before in this new series, there’s nothing necessarily wrong with a fairly made common product.
Lipton, anyone?
Temperature check
Tepid
Pam & Tommy (Series Premiere)
Hulu - Drama - Historical Fiction
Synopsis
A sex symbol and a rock star suffer the scrutiny of the public eye when a disgruntled carpenter publicizes their honeymoon sex tape.
My take
Sebastian Stan is the tentpole attraction of this 1990s circus of lust and envy, centered around the creation and subsequent publication of the infamous sex tape of soap star Pamela Anderson and heavy metal drummer Tommy Lee. Portraying Tommy, Stan excels at creating the chaotic energy necessary to fuel the engine of the piece; he can’t be present on screen without demanding the attention of the viewer and makes the most of it whenever given. Sadly, however, he is the only one. Lily James may look like Pamela Anderson, but offers little beyond superficial depth for her character, while Seth Rogen is exasperating as the exasperated carpenter turned VHS opportunist.
I’d say, readers, come to this rejected American Crime Story (Alexander & Karaszewski [developers], 2016-Present) series, if you want frivolity drummed out of the tried and true trifecta of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Otherwise, steer clear. As Bigmouth (Goldberg, Kroll, Levin, & Flackett [creators], 2018-Present) has certainly shown us, a protracted conversation with an animated penis is not sufficiently entertaining to save any attempt at a series, not even one about a thrilling piece of pop history, as anything more than ‘fast TV.’
Temperature check
Cold
Project Runway (Season 19 Finale)
Bravo - Reality / Competition - Fashion
Synopsis
For the nineteenth time, sixteen hopeful fashion designers compete in a series of challenges to win a $250,000 prize, meant to help the winner start his or her own line.
My take
It’s been quite a while — nearly fourteen years, in fact — since I’ve tuned into an entire season of Bravo’s once centerpiece reality competition show Project Runway — and, to be honest, I almost dropped this latest season quite early on, because of an unexpected and fortunately temporary emphasis on an interpersonal squabble seemingly upholding the mob’s sense of justice — but, now that it’s concluded, I’m glad that I stuck with this 19th season. Though the core cast (i.e., the judges’ panel and the workroom advisor) have changed since my last full viewing — Heidi Klum, Michael Kors, and Tim Gunn like old fashions are now things of the past — the show retains the sense of invention and artistry amidst challenges that had once made it — to borrow a phrase from the show’s parent network — “must see TV.”
The reward and true test of the show, of course, are its final runways; and this season the collections presented by the finalists reminded me what a joy it can be to watch creative ideas become manifest as wearable sculptures. The specific ideas of each artist shone through and made the final decision of who would be the singular winner of the season (and its coveted $250,000 prize) an unenviably tough one for the new judging panel of fashion editor Nina Garcia, designer Brandon Maxwell, and one-time guest judge Tommy Hilfiger (a personal blast from the past). While certainly I won’t spoil the winner for you, readers, I will say that the work and personal investment brought to the winning collection — and shepherded with intention by the sharp advice of the new workroom advisor, former Project Runway winner (and perhaps its biggest success story) Cristian Siriano — was a cutting-edge achievement.
But then, readers, I could go for a reality competition series with (he)art all day long, so I’ll leave here a bit of discretion about how much milk and sugar you might take with this cup yourself.
Temperature check
Tepid (unless you love fashion)
Raised by Wolves (Season 2 Premiere)
HBOMax - Sci-Fi - Science vs. Faith
Synopsis
Following the disastrous crash that ended the first season, a once death-giving android and her partner struggle to reünite their family amidst a new world order.
My take
If my memory serve, this series, when it debuted, was not a hit for American audiences. Despite critical applause and respected producers (like Ridley Scott), Raised by Wolves was the sci-fi drama that tried but failed to hold most people’s attention.
Not mine, of course. No, as I do for most things that I start, I finished that first season — and did so with growing interest. The spare, slow pace of the first episodes was the place setting for what turned out to be a fine — not amazing, not mind-blowing, but fine — meal; and I genuinely wanted to know more, taste more as the episodes went on. The structure of the society and the competing motives of the characters, like a futuristic Game of Thrones (Benioff & Weiss [creators], 2011-2019), had intrigue and I was there for it.
The opening of this second season, which I was pleased the show got, is little different. The chessboard has been reärranged but the players and the stakes are largely the same, continuations from the first season’s dialectic between science and faith as the primary means for confronting the unknown (or, at least, the unfamiliar).
Was I riveted to my seat? No, but that’s not a relevant bar here — at least, not for me. I come to this series as I would to a neighborhood tea house: knowing that I’m unlikely to be served anything exceptional, in good or bad ways, but comforted by the consistent warmth and aroma of the cup in my hand and the chatter around me. It’s a nice spot, especially if you’re into sci-fi. Meet you on the corner, readers?
Temperature check
Tepid
Retrospective
In lieu of a retrospective this time, because we are again surfeit with entries above, I’ll take up this final spot to do an official plug of my companion site, Rich Picks, a dressed-up and interactive version of my database of film takes and related awards, which recently published (as a counterpoint to this morning’s Oscar nominations) my own set of nominations, a passion project I’ve been keeping up now for the past 16 years. Though I’d hesitate to say that at this moment my set of nominations is 100% official (because there remain a handful of “in the conversation” films released this past year I’ve not yet been able to see but still mean to), they’re as final as they can be except those remainders. So, if you enjoy this reviewer and/or love data tables, check them out!
I am aware, readers, of Fellowes’ work on less-than-mainstream projects like The English Game (2020) and Belgravia (2020).
If you must know, they were episodes six and ten.