It pains me to have to write this. I have staked my reputation on ABC’s Nashville being a good, enjoyable show. In many a gathering of sophisticated, cultured folk I have loudly proclaimed its virtues, defended its honor, called it “great,” called it “smart,” called it “worth watching.” But as season two of Nashville comes out of its midway hiatus I’m no longer so sure it’s worth even that, and I’m so sad, and I’m so sorry.
What’s the highest rated TV show on MetaCritic this season? The answer may surprise you. With an impressive score of 92%, Les Revenants, Canal+ and Music Box Film’s French supernatural drama chronicling the resurrection of the deceased residents of an alpine town, takes the crown. Christened The Returned in its English incarnation, the series completed its first season on the Sundance Channel on December 19. And while it may not be the greatest season of any show I’ve ever seen, The Returned is compelling, fresh, and continues to ask us subtly intriguing questions that make us— well, return.
With unforgettable quotes like: “I love lamp,” “60% of the time, it works every time,” and “I’m in a glass case of emotion,” Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy (2004) set the bar ridiculously high for the recent sequel Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues. When I first saw the teaser trailer last year, I was filled with mixed emotions. I wanted to see Ron Burgundy (Will Ferrell) and the old Channel 4 News Team back together, but I was so certain that they would ruin a classic. The gimmicky early marketing campaigns for Anchorman 2 (Ben & Jerry’s “Scotchy Scotch Scotch” flavor, Ron co-anchoring a local CBS newscast, Ron’s ESPN interview with Peyton Manning) were entertaining but did not alleviate my concerns that Will Ferrell would be saying, “I immediately regret this decision” after opening weekend. How “by the beard of Zeus” could director Adam McKay and Ferrell come up with anything more absurd and hilarious than Anchorman:The Legend of Ron Burgundy?
Spike Jonze is a co-founding member of MTV’s Jackass, a part owner of a skateboarding company, an award-winning director of commercials and music videos, the creative director of an online television channel, the editor of a teen music magazine, a BMX photographer, and who knows how many other things. Yet on top of all these eclectic interests he has managed to become the critical darling (or at least this particular critic’s darling) of the last fifteen years.
Critics of Lone Survivor describe the film as jingoistic, lacking substance, and needlessly heavy handed. They are wrong. It is precisely the extremely visceral depiction of an elite team of Navy SEALS in a firefight, juxtaposed with their playful ribbing only moments before, that ranks the film as the best war movie since The Hurt Locker.
There are many ways I could describe Inside Llewyn Davis: a portrait, a character study, a reimagining of the 1961 Greenwich Village folk music scene. But after watching the film and re-listening to its soundtrack numerous times, and finding much to admire in its craftsmanship and musical talent, I don’t know if all that I heard and saw constitutes a story. At the same time, I don’t really think that’s a problem.
The holidays are a delicate time for interfaith families. There is not a lot to agree upon. The only common ground for my own interfaith family is film. Not the quality of a movie – no no, there is rarely a consensus there – but that we see many movies. That’s something everyone can get behind. Jews and bored Christians alike head to the theater on Christmas Day, and once the lights go down, we’re not even allowed to interact. Everyone is together without even the potential for conflict. It’s a beautiful, unifying thing.
Thursday, January 16, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences announces this year’s Oscar nominations, and Buffer writers Amy Solomon and Zach Saldacher are as excited as can be. They were thrilled to prioritize Oscar betting above homework, so they have spent their valuable time compiling their nominee predictions. See their lists and reactions to each other’s predictions below.
Smug curmudgeonly older men are huddled around the TV set on plaid-upholstered armchairs that you know smell vaguely of musk. Beer is in hand and ranch-dip-and-accoutrements are within reach. The game is on and when they’re not falling asleep, the talk turns around the only thing these men seem to care about: cars. The camera, shooting from the television screen itself, perfectly frames this very American portrait. Nebraska takes the subject of everyday life seriously—you really get the sense they sit there like this every day.
I have mixed feelings about road trips. Who doesn’t love bonding with friends and family with a panorama of beautiful scenery extending as far as you can see? At the same time, road trips are always undercut by cramped space with limited mobility and nothing to do. For me, watching Nebraska, a two-hour film about a father-son trip from Montana to Nebraska, felt a lot like a road trip. I’m torn.
How do you move on after your greatest joy in life is gone? How does a hit show follow up a season that had one of the most devastating finales in television history? This past Sunday, American audiences of the British period drama television series Downton Abbey tuned into the season four premiere with record numbers, in an attempt to find the answers to these very questions. While most of us west of the Atlantic have to conform to PBS’s schedule and learn about the future of the Crawley family piecemeal, I was lucky enough to have a friend studying abroad last semester get me the BBC’s DVD release. I endured a binge-watching session spanning two days, and (after ingesting six months of storyline) a recovery period of a few more days, just to give you, dear Downton fans, a brief glimpse into what the next few months has in store for our beloved characters. Minor spoilers lie ahead, so proceed at your own risk!
While you were probably Dean’s Date cramming this Sunday night, I spent three hours watching rich famous people give other rich famous people golden statues. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t learn anything. So here’s my cheat sheet with the ten biggest things I “learned” from watching the Golden Globes.
