juushika

Because 2018 was a real bad year, and because I'm lazy, I didn't keep any log of what I watched; but as consider writing my best of 2018 list, it occurs to me that it would be useful to know what I watched. This is recreated from my Tumblr and Netflix logs and (ahaha) ""memory.""" It's in only the barest chronological order and doesn't particularly resemble the capsule reviews I usually write for my watch logs, but it's better than nothing.

Star Trek: Deep Space 9, television, 1993-1999
A rewatch, and technically started last year, but this was a huge chunk of my watching and inarguably the most important thing I watched this year. It holds up phenomenally well. I did some liveblogging of this which I'll crosspost later, but: the best if a good franchise, easily; very important to me; difficult and healing to watch while coping with my dad's illness.

Coco, film, 2017
This is vibrant and diverse; and I hate the romanticization of street dogs and the "unconditionally forgive your abuse family members & then they'll reveal they've changed their ways" message. Does one outweigh another? I'm not sure.

Altered Carbon s1, television, 2018
100% there for the aesthetic alone. Unconvinced that the rest, the writing, the representation, is good. But it's indulgent AF cyberpunk.

The Good Place s1-2, television, 2016-2018
This is consistently superb: the pacing, the writing, the casting, the humor (and I hate humor!). It sincerely surprised me, in productive ways. It's one of those rare shows that gives me nothing to criticize. The only reason we haven't watched any of s3 is because I never watch things while they're airing.

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherood up to about episode 30?, anime, 2009
Perhaps I'm insufficiently versed, but this doesn't feel distinctly, obviously better than the old FMA anime; still enjoying it, and appreciate the whiplashy balance of humor to sudden grimness. Only paused this because it's hard for me to watch a lot of subs.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2., film, 2017
Those playing along at home may remember that I've largely given up on Marvel universe on account of "not my thing." By all rights, this should be likewise. But Lindsay Ellis spoke on it convincingly enough that I made an exception, and I don't regret it. The throughline here of abuse and found families is sincerely well rendered—who knew! Hasn't really changed my mind re: Marvel, tho.

Some of Lost in Space, television, 2018
Enough to realize it was boring, and then an unfortunate little bit more.

Beauty and The Beast, film, 2017
Boring, bad CG, added nothing of value; but watchable I guess.

Dark s1, television, 2018
This has a phenomenal aesthetic and sense of place and set of images; the plot is profoundly tedious and I take issue with false rape accusation as narrative device. I was unsure after finishing if I'd watch s2, but with a few months of distance I am even less tempted.

Voltron: Legendary Defender s5-7, television, 2018
(We will probably have watched s8 by the end of the year.) I consistently enjoy this for its vivid science fantasy world and engaging character dynamics. It has too much filler, but the overall balance of humor to grim character growth is successful. Bury your gays was an obvious misstep which goes against everything this series has been aiming for in its casting; again, how does it balance? I'm not sure. But this remains popcorn watching & the only for-kids thing I've enjoyed lately.

Wynonna Earp s1-2, television, 2016-2017
A welcome mirror-twin to Supernatural; better representation, great camp, pretty, oh so pretty, pretty, and only as witty as a show of its type, but absolutely gay. Tumblr tags: #it's trash but no moreso than other shows of its kind; the special effects are ridiculous b/c SyFy #but it's the purest example of that 'indeterminate midwestern metrosexual redneck' aesthetic that I've found #everything is so overdesigned but in a grungy way! Bobo Del Ray's character design is a gift! the landscape is golden and long #and there's an abandoned homestead & dead trees in the background & and when in doubt: decorate with skulls #like a southern gothic playlist with those same 15 (beloved) songs come to life & coincidentally that's also the soundtrack #I want to LIVE THERE

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, television, 2018
I love how this is filmed, how stupidly excessive is its aesthetic. The writing is pretty trash, and these made-for-Netflix shows have got to figure out that the chance to make actually-hour-long episodes means that each episode should be more beefy. Shrug. Will continue to watch in the attempt to project myself into the sets.

Black Mirror s4, television, 2017
Never again will we have the San Junipero time. This season was trash, most seasons are trash for the same reason—obvious and/or reactive social commentary couched in slick but inconsistent styling. It did however prompt:

( Some thoughts on intrusive thoughts in speculative and dystopic settings. )

The Ritual, film, 2017
Good setting, good monster design, meh narrative, and the last outweighs. ( Longer thoughts via tumblr. )

The Witch, film, 2015
The longer this sat with me, the more I liked it. The gritty tedium of the setting makes for a slow pace, but it's one of those films where the ending creeps up, builds up, and then revitalizes all the came before. Beautiful, too; well cast.

ETA: Over the Garden Wall, television, 2014
I don't think I loved this as much as most people do—it was still a little too slight, too funny for me—but what a phenomenal aesthetic and atmosphere; what a great thing to finally watch at exactly the Halloween times.

Killing Eve s1, television, 2018
I enjoyed the hell out of this. It doesn't have the same angle of indulgence as Hannibal, but 1) ladies and 2) the beats of humor/violence (as opposed to aesthetic/violence) add to the conversation, bring new things. Sandra Oh is phenomenal. A good show, will continue watching.

Some of Supernatural s13, television, 2017-2018
"Some of" being a sign that this season hasn't especially captured me, moreso even than the usual baseline of trash TV. I will finish it/the entire show eventually, now that we know it's ending.

Great British Bake Off, television
We watched & (for me) rewatched everything they have on Netflix. The Channel 4 switch suffers hugely, but the bad version of the best and perhaps only good reality show is still strong, and nothing equals this, nothing else is as perfectly soothing. I had a really shitty year and this helped me escape some of that, for which I'm grateful.

Skins Wars s1-3, television, 2014-2016
We watched this to try to fill a GBBO-shaped void, with minimal success. People making things good; American/reality TV bad. The competitive angle steals too much screentime from watching art being made. What really gets me is the financial angle, the "watching people be desperate for money as a form of entertainment" aspect; it's gross and disheartening and, after GBBO? gross and disheartening is the opposite of what I want.

Star Trek: Discovery, television, 2017-2018
I've been trying to fight the knee-jerk reaction of "change is bad" and "old things are better" (although Trek for me isn't just nostalgia—I rewatched them all [except Enterprise] within the last 5 years), and this certainly is watchable, but I'm unconvinced that it's good. Really strong cast; middling writing; weak aesthetic (so blue! the camera doesn't like it, my eyes don't like, it makes the universe so samey). & I feel like the desire to create a stronger, darker overarching story is not new to the Trek universe—is in fact DS9, and they should take pointers from it re: how to pace episodic and overarching. Also the Klingons are very bad. I dig that they speak in Klingon, but it's so slow & phonetic as to be glaring, and, again: work to bring depth to this race has been done! they should build on it, not undermine it! Discovery is fine and I don't regret that it exists, but it's not good, and I want good.

Please help me, I am forever so behind on these, & what I do not record I will forget forever.


Time of Eve, anime, 2010
This has an ideal runtime and microformat. The individual vignettes aren't particularly in-depth exploration of speculative concepts/worldbuilding/the laws of robotics; they're equally fueled by pathos and the human condition, so the short episode length gives room to develop those things without allowing them to grow maudlin—a good emotional balance. The effect is cumulative—not especially cleverly so, it's pretty straightforward "interwoven ensemble with overarching character growth," but it's satisfying. I wish this pushed its speculative/robotics elements further, but, frankly, I'm satisfied with the whole thing, it's engaging and evocative and sweet and I sure do like androids.

( Some long Time of Eve thoughts, crossposted from Tumblr. )

A Series of Unfortunate Events, season 1, 2017
I'm surprised to find I enjoyed this more than the book series—and I didn't love the books, but didn't expect them to improve upon adaptation. The weakness of the books is how much depends on the meta-narrative and how little of that there actually is; rewriting it with a better idea of what that narrative will be, and with more outside PoVs, makes it more substantial and creates a better overarching flow. The humor is great, the set design is great, it feels faithful without merely reiterating, a condensed "best of" the atmosphere and themes; a sincere and pleasant surprise. I'm only sad that the second season isn't out yet, because the Quagmire Triplets were always my favorites.

The Great British Bake Off, series 6, 2015
They finally got rid of the awful, belabored pause before weekly reveals! That was the only thing I ever hated about this series, and I'm glad to see it go. This is a weird season: weekly performances are irregular and inconsistent and vaguely underwhelming; the finale is superb. It makes me feel validated in my doubts re: whether the challenges and judging metrics actually reflect the contestants's skills, but whatever: it has solid payoff and this is as charming and pure as ever. What a delightful show.

Arrival, film, 2016, dir. Denis Villeneuve
50% "gosh, the alien/language concept design is good"; 50% "I really just want to read the short story" (so I immediately put the collection on hold). Short fiction adapts so well to film length that it makes me wonder why we insist on adapting novels: the pacing is just right, the speculative and plot elements are just deep enough to thoroughly explore, there's no feeling of being rushed or abridged or shallow. What makes this worthwhile as a film is some of the imagery, alien design (the language really is fantastic), and viewer preconceptions re: flashbacks as narrative device; it's awfully white and straight and boring as a romance, though—underwhelming characters with no particular chemistry, although I like Amy Adams's pale restraint. If I sound critical, I'm not; I thought this was a satisfying as a 2-hour experience.

Interstellar, film, 2014, dir. Christopher Nolan
I have a lot of feelings, and most of them are terror: wormholes! black holes! water planet! time as a dimension! space, just as a thing in general!—I find all this terrifying, in a fascinated by authentically panicky way. The imagery and plot does a solid job of making these concepts comprehensible and still vast (save perhaps for the fourth+ dimension—the imagery there almost works, but it's so emotionally-laden and interpersonal as to, ironically, make it feel localized, small). But Blight-as-worldbuilding is shallow, and a lot of the human element is oppressive and obvious, which deadens things; I wish more of it were on the scale of Dr. Brand's love or the effects of relativity: private motivations for the characters, sincere and intense but with limited effect on the setting or plot. But as a speculative narrative, one within the realm of the plausible but intentionally alien, distant, and awe-inspiring, this is effectively the space version of the disaster porn in a disaster flick—space porn, is that a thing? It's captivating in a nightmareish way, which, I suppose, is exactly what I wanted.

Legend, complete series, 1995
One of Devon's childhood shows, which he got as a birthday present, so we watched it together. It's honestly not as awful as I expected. The frontier setting is less idealized or racist than it could be, but still has a great atmosphere; the character dynamics are hammy but sincerely endearing; the mystery plots are episodic but decently written. Not a new favorite, shows its age, and the mix of tone and science fantasy Western makes it understandably niche, but it exceeded expectations.

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir, season 1 and Christmas Special, 2015-2016
This has a strict episodic framework—repeated sequences, reiterated structure, etc. But it also begins with all aspects established, from supporting cast to superpowers—a mild in medias res. Subplots, small details, and the natural evolution of relationships explore those background aspects and add narrative depth, and the occasional deviation from the repetitive format has nice narrative flair. I'm normally ambivalent about the format of kid's cartoons, so I'm surprise by how well this worked for me on a structural level. And the protagonists's relationship! it's a star-crossed miscommunication-driven will they/won't they/of course they will hetero romance, but I love it anyway, thanks in large part of the way that Ladybug controls their dynamic both in and out of combat. There should be nothing for me to love here, but I found myself taken with it anyway; it's charming and unexpectedly compelling. I look forward to the next season. (I did find the webisodes frivolous, and skipped them. I prefer the French dub immensely, and wish Netflix weren't missing some of the audio tracks.)

Re:Zero — Starting Life in Another World, anime, 2016, White Fox
I came to this explicitly because a friend spoiled the protagonist's character growth (or, more specifically, the reveal that Subaru is a "nice guy" and that the narrative calls him out on it). I'm glad I went in knowing that, both because it's interesting to track the foreshadowing and because it helps justify such an awful protagonist. His later character growth is artlessly exaggerated, but it's still rewarding to see his behavior condemned and corrected. The plot, meanwhile, has an iterated/Groundhog Day-style structure (one of my favorite tropes) which is just clever enough to work and which sells the danger and violence—and that's a good thing, because something needs to counteract the anime styling at play. I would have liked this better had it shed its anime clichés—but I still found it incredibly engaging, cathartic, and satisfying. (I'm not sold on the ending, but my impression is that it works better in context of the light novel, as a yet another bait-and-switch happy resolution.)

The Great British Bake-Off, series 4, 2013
As calming and as sweet-hearted as ever, but I found myself more critical of the judging structure this time (I don't think judging week-to-week without taking into account cumulative performance is representative of real quality; I'm troubled by the cultural/educational bias implicit in the technical challenges), and of significantly less patience with the pacing of the reveals (so corny; just skip them). But even if my initial wonderment has passed, this remains such an endearing show, pure and lovely, engaging food porn and light reality TV, but without the pettiness that fuels so much of the genre.

Kaiji: Ultimate Survivor, anime, 2007-2008, Madhouse
The pacing here isn't as successful in Akagi—it's more strung out, teetering towards the repetitive and stretching the tension and metaphors too far. But! it's still so good! (Within FKMT caveats: no female characters; funny noses.) Such a fantastic foil to Akagi: this protagonist who doesn't want to risk, who isn't looking for the experience; who keeps landing himself in trouble and manages to scrape through almost despite himself. Like any good predicament porn, it's equal parts indulgent and discomforting, the perfect balance that pushes "dim ratbag victim of masochists" past the point of humor and enjoyable tension and into the realm of sincere, albeit frustrating, sympathy. I look forward to continuing with the next series.

Erased (Boku dake ga Inai Machi), anime, 2016, A-1 Pictures
Time-traveler solves the disappearance of a fellow student from his childhood is a deceptively big concept with a deceptively small, interpersonal execution, and the truth is somewhere in between: the speculative elements are scaled down, secondary to the relationships that fuel the plot, but that plot grows increasingly convoluted and suspenseful. It's an ambitious effort, and successful in large part because of the way the many elements balance once another. (And I will never be over that fantastic gimmick with the opening credits.)

Voltron: Legendary Defender, season 1, 2016
I'm surprised by how much I enjoyed this, but it's not perfect. The animation is fantastic, which gives the action and characters so much life; I genuinely love everyone except Lance (I wish the default protagonist weren't the male-gaze asshole) and every inter-character dynamic (even those with Lance). But after the overlong establishing sequences, the plot grows episodic and goes nowhere—it feels like watching any other serial SF show, with predictable premises and storylines. Against that stagnation, the sudden uptick in plot and the ridiculous cliffhanger at the end of the season feel like an insult. But while I normally have a hard time with "made for kids, accessible to all audiences" because I can't switch off my criticism (and can never tolerate comic relief), Voltron engaged me. I'll absolutely watch season 2. (That all said, I could never not laugh at Voltron's cat fists and fuzzy cat slippers and cat hat, I know this is the design Voltron has had forever and that they are being faithful to the source material, it still looks ridiculous, I'm sorry.)

Zootopia, film, 2016, Disney
Charming animation and worldbuilding, great dialog, and I'm a sucker both for mystery plots and cop buddy dynamics. But I'm not sure I loved the themes—"the disenfranchised also foster social unrest/aim to benefit from inequality" is a common trope that creates a false equivalency between the targeted hatred of oppressors and the justified anger of the oppressed, and while I think it's the exact opposite of the film's intended message, it's present and it's gross. This was a fun watching experience, but invites critical viewing it can't stand up to, and left me uneasy.

3%, season 1, 2016
I love survival games and in a similar way understand the appeal of dystopian meritocracies—but I hate the YA tropes/poor writing/unbelievable worldbuilding they tend to come packed in. 3% has pieces of all of that, and yet I sincerely enjoyed it. Television is a better format for this series than a book or film series because there's more room to flesh out the characters without constantly trying to reinvent the plot. That the competitors are 20 years old also helps—it's an appropriate age for the personal growth tropes and some of the interpersonal dramas of the genre, but sheds the adolescent-love-triangle tone. But maybe the best divergence is that there are so many people of color. This is less glamorized than most examples of the genre it hails from, despite maintaining a lot of genre concepts and tropes; I don't think it's necessarily revolutionary, but it's absolutely more successful. I'm glad to see Netflix diversifying the work they produce, and will watch season 2.

Yuri!!! on Ice, anime, 2016, MAPPA
As a sports anime, this isn't groundbreaking; as queer sports anime, it's not ideal representation—but I understand the source of its limitations and I think it navigates genre conventions and "appears subtextual, is actually textual" better than not. It does a lot in little space, with surprisingly clever plotting and details, but what really sold me is the sincerity of the character development and the romance. Yuuri's anxiety and its effects on his performance and interpersonal relationships mimic the emotional dramas of other sports anime, but have a more sincere, sympathetic arc; the central romance engages a number of queerbaiting tropes and then sidesteps them to explore sincere passion and how people build relationships and romantic intimacy. It's really just ... heartening to watch, not super angsty but emotionally accessible. I sincerely enjoyed it.

Red vs. Blue, seasons 1-13, 2003-2015
I came to this just to understand Devon's references, because he quotes the first few seasons a lot; and then it ate me alive. I have a narrow sense of humor, and the jokes here can absolutely be problematic, but it's frequently hilarious, with fantastic delivery and surprisingly effective simple staging. And as the show matures, it snowballs: always harebrained, but increasingly complex and character-driven; the CGI is breathtaking, the pacing superb; and I love the characters, I love so many of them so passionately, and I would never have predicted that. That something this inane and weirdly constructed can be so successful still surprises me, but, man, what an experience.

Black Mirror, season 3, 2016
All of these episodes are on some level mediocre—except "San Junipero" [imagine here a 20min pause, weeks after watching this episode, that I spent looking at fanart and gifs of this episode because I will never be over it], which is phenomenal. It's also the biggest departure from Black Mirror's tone, so perhaps my ongoing issue is just with Black Mirror itself, and with its smartphone dystopias and one-note worldbuilding, its speculative-in-the-mainstream shoddy work; none of this season manages to be harrowing and have an intriguing premise, expect perhaps "Playtest" (deadened by predictable tropes) and "Hated in the Nation" (deadened by runtime). But "San Junipero" is tightly written, with economic plot delivery and a stubborn, sensitive interpersonal focus; the acting is fantastic, the tone equally indulgent/nostalgic and emotional; the love story convincing and validating. I have rarely been so impressed with any single episode of anything, and it can easily stand alone. It made the season worth it for me, and I'd recommend it even if you've never watched Black Mirror.

Sphere, film, 1998, dir. Barry Levinson
What an intriguing premise, what predictable execution. I think "in a confined environment, everyone doubts and turns against one another" is a pretty tired narrative, but I was ready to be sold on the psychological stress of a first encounter and the social fallout among the human crew—it could be a refreshing twist on the premise. But the alien aspect goes almost entirely unexplored; even the concept of the unknown, of the what and why inside the sphere, is barely touched. There's some good monologues and character acting, but this is otherwise dull, doing a disservice to its setup and first third, with a particularly weak ending.

III: The Ritual, film, 2015, dir. Pavel Khvaleev
The framing narrative is incoherent, but the central story is about a young woman journeying into her sister's dreamscape in order to cure her of disease—also incoherent, but to good effect; a lot of the markers it hits are predictable, and some imagery is ungrounded, but I love dreamscapes and this one is evocative. I love the focus on bodies (but wish it interrogated the link it makes between illness/bodies/gendered experience/mental state), the liminal spaces and use of transitions, and the way that arbitrary personal symbols exist alongside overtly literal imagery. This reminds me of Silent Hill, if less successful: confront the monsters that represent your inner demons while some inexplicable cult plot occurs around you.

On Tumblr: screencaps.

Hellboy, film, 2004, dir. Guillermo del Toro
I had vague impressions of remarkable, intricate imagery, but it looks like most of that is in the second film. This one's special effects have aged well, and the special effects makeup is fantastic; it uses that to do interesting things with bodies, and those details—Abe's hands and gills, Kroenen's monster design—are so satisfying. But the set designs aren't particularly memorable, and everything is so predictable: the pacing, the plot structure, the comedic timing; Perlman (whom I love) delivers a distinct but hammy performance. I did love Liz (less so her place in the plotline); that couldn't outweigh how tired I am of speculative sexy Nazis, a trope that I think is harmful and objectively unforgivable. I wish I could watch the second film! (It's not on Netflix.) I think I'd like it better, if only for the visuals. This first one is hit and miss.

Once Upon a Time, season 5, 2015-2016
The Dark Swan arc exceeded my expectations—it has a constrained focus and the plot twists are vaguely convincing (a OUaT rarity!); the interpersonal and character arcs sold me, especially those between Emma and Regina. The resolution is weaker—as the focus shifts off Emma, it flounders. The Underworld arc, by contrast, is a mess entire: boring imagery, and the Greek myths are out of place (although I love Greg Germann and enjoy the Hades/Zelena relationship). As always, the problem with OUaT is its insincerity: there are so any plot twists that they lose their effect; it's hard to get invested in expectation of a twist, so the rare sincere moment lacks impact. Anyway: The land of untold stories stretches the show's premise but revives its creativity and makes it less Strictly Disney; I wonder what season 6 will be like.

Stranger Things, season 1, 2016
Frequently incredible: the atmospheric genre mishmash, the aesthetic as thick as pea soup, the tight writing, the great acting—especially from the children, about which no one as surprised as me. The triple plotline and the genre-awareness means that the plotting has to be strong, and it is—until the last episode, where it's so strong, so neat and obvious with obligatory sequel bait, as to strangle out the mystery and depth. I wanted something braver in scale and less obvious in resolution. Finale complaints aside, I truly adored this. It's a bit like The X-Files (without the monsters of the week), a bit like Twin Peaks (but faster paced), so 80s gothic; genre-aware and engaged in discussion about genre; the aesthetic is captivating—I've rarely been so lost in a show: at the end of each episode, the real world felt uncanny. I can't wait for season 2.

Splice, film, 2009, dir. Vincenzo Natali
I love this as a strange incestuous family drama with weird imagery and sexy body horror, which is the first three quarters; I like it less as an obligatory action sequence stripped of complex characterization and replaced with trite gender commentary, which is how it ends. The special effects are necessarily strong, and the visuals engaging; the acting is good. I was pleasantly surprised, but the ending remains a let-down.

Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey, television, 2014, Neil deGrasse Tyson presenting
My complaints first, because they matter: the human element threatens to overshadow the science, the pacing slows in the middle third and wants structure, and the overlong section on global warming is preaching to a choir & puts the onus on individuals while failing to address the political/industrial solutions which will affect necessary change. That aside, this is fantastic. It's accessible without feeling simplistic, Tyson is engaged and engaging, and above all it conveys a profound awe, scale, scope. The CGI helps. It needs better structure, and some topics were belabored while others went unexplored, but honestly I was captivated.

Deep Impact, film, 1998, dir. Mimi Leder
I appreciate the somber tone, the on-screen named character depths, the interplay of national politics and personal narratives (although the kids are tiresome); the pacing is more predictable and less successful, transparent drama-fuel, and the actual disaster is too localized and back-loaded—some post-disaster survivalism would benefit the tone. On the whole, more effective than good: it's a welcome somber deviation from the disaster movie genre while still fulfilling genre tropes, but isn't particularly memorable.

The House at the End of Time (La casa del fin de los tiempos), film, 2013, dir. Alejandro Hidalgo
Expect spoilers, because it turns out this is less horror than it is time travel. The setting and tone are fantastic (what a great house); in theory, the time travel is a clever twist on the haunted house premise, but it's too neat—which makes for literal repetition (as it revisits previous scenes with new information) and predictability, especially throughout the second half. The emotional elements rely on child actors and aging make-up, neither of which are convincing. I wanted to like this, but it's too simple and hollow to be effective.

I recently completed The Great Star Trek: TOS first viewing; I grew up on TNG and Voyager and DS9, but had never watched TOS until just now. As I watched, I read along with Eugene Myers and Torie Atkinson's re-watch, here on Tor.com, with the third season on The Viewscreen. Torie's analyses I found particularly relevant, both because she came it from the same position as me (familiar with most of Star Trek, but not with TOS), but particularly because of how she examines and confronts Roddenberry's attempts, successes, and failures in exploring and representing equality.

Star Trek: The Original Series, complete series, 1966-69
This exceeded my expectations. It's not as forward-thinking as Roddenberry's vision demanded, which I don't think the time period excuses, given Roddenberry's intent. But the intent is so good, and more than occasionally effective; the underlying sense of wonder is inspiring, the cast and the inter-character dynamics are phenomenal, and Spock—Spock I adore, and I now understand how much Nimoy brought to the show and character. The number of authentically enjoyable episodes balances the amount of formulaic or ridiculous drivel, and while the third season lags it only feels like a preponderance of the bad elements that were there throughout—although most of the series clichés, especially Kirk's womanizing and the lady of the week, seem to come from this season rather than the show entire. I regret that the show prioritizes the return to status quo, but it was inevitable consequence of the genre's development. In sum: not near corny as I expected it to be; dated, flawed, certainly, but authentically enjoyable. I agree with Torie Atkinson's thoughts in the Star Trek Re-watch: Season 1 Wrap-Up: the sincerity and unidealized optimism is surprisingly effective.

Star Trek: The Motion Picture, film, 1979, dir. Robert Wise
I can appreciate this for what it is: an homage, love letter, and the celebration of an effects budget. The same things which are wearisome—namely, the long, slow shots of the ship and other special effects—are in some ways the most endearing: it's almost fanservice, the frank admiration of some of the most beloved bits of TOS. Pity about the recycled plot, and putting the band back together stymies character progression (although Spock, as always, is strong). TMP isn't great as a movie, but I appreciate it as a revival.

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, film, 1982, dir. Nicholas Meyer
Not much I can say that hasn't been said. Khan's characterization feels flat—I wanted something more than the definitive obsession with Kirk. The rest of the cast fairs far better, with solid characterization and character progression; I adore Spock in the captain's seat, and the intercast dynamics are fantastic. This successfully translates the feel of the show into movie format: similar ethos, movie-appropriate pacing, and a satisfying number of subplots; the end is strong. But I fail to find it as memorable as TMP—perhaps because it's simply more traditional and successful a film.

Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, film, 1984, dir. Leonard Nimoy
Another one that I enjoyed, despite general consensus. I love successful narratives-in-absentia, and so respond well to a story that orbits an absent character. And how lovely, to see McCoy given more complexity. This is a smaller, more private story; melancholy, personal, heartsick; the destruction of the Enterprise contributes significantly to this tone. I hate back from the dead plotlines in principle, and I didn't care one whit about the B-plot or the villain; the film certainly has flaws. But the small parts of it which work well I treasure.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, film, 1986, dir. Leonard Nimoy
A humorous installment is well-timed and surprisingly effective, and—other than the ridiculous premise—this has great pacing and strong character moments. TVH absolutely tips towards embarrassment squick, but it never oversteps, thank goodness. It's charming and silly, the cast has just enough substance, and it's utterly engaging to watch—but not, ultimately, particularly memorable or complex.

Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, film, 1989, dir. William Shatner
I could have done without. There's some well-intended elements—namely, to give glimpses into the backstory and private lives of the crew—but they're ineffective; meanwhile, the humor is cringe-inducing and while the plot echoes some reoccurring series themes, it does a poor job of it and the fake god is particularly clumsy. I wish it had gone in a different direction—I would have loved to better explore the experience of a Vulcan with emotions.

Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country, film, 1991, dir. Nicholas Meyer
This is such a rewarding endnote. The murder-mystery plot isn't flawless (the courtroom scene is frustrating, despite the appearance of Michael Dorn; the clue-search aboard the ship tends toward silly), but the balance of the plot's momentum and the depth of the metaphor is almost flawless. I love to see Kirk confronted, to see him proven wrong and forced to change; I love a bit less Spock's flaws, but the Kirk/Spock/McCoy dynamic in this film is some of my favorite in the series entire. This may be the most enjoyable and watchable of the films—and final voice-over and the signatures on the stars was the most perfect of all possible conclusions. (Reader, I cried.)

This is the final cruise of the Starship Enterprise under my command. This ship and her history will shortly become the care of another crew. To them and their posterity will we commit our future. They will continue the voyages we have begun, and journey to all the undiscovered countries, boldly going where no man ... where no one has gone before.

Bonus, crossposted from Tumblr: ( In defense of 3.20 The Way to Eden )

Supernatural, season 9, 2014-15
Rowena is a delight, and I enjoy Crowley's progression—bravo to the show for exploring how soft he's gone. Otherwise: a disappointment. The Mark is too reminescent of S8's post-Purgatory effects, but significantly less compelling. The big bad is a mess—is it Styne? Rowena? the Mark has no face and so makes for an indistinct and unsatisfying enemy, and the show fails to capitalize on the quandary of how to win a fight when the only face of the enemy is yourself. Charlie's death is as predictably problematic as this show can conceivably be; the sudden twist ending is transparent sequel bait, and the entire last episode has predictable pacing. This is midgrade, messy, unremarkable Supernatural.

Circle, film, 2015, dir. Aaron Hann & Mario Miscione
I'm a sucker for this sort of survival setup, yet this did little for me. What makes survival games work is the way that individuals react to life and death competition, but there's no room for characters here. Instead, Circle has soundbite distillations of "American values," cursory and unproductive caricatures of sexism/racism/homophobia. Tension sustains the film, but the staccato pacing doesn't allow for tension to build or the narrative to flow. It's constrained and frantic and small, distinctly not awful; the end is strong. But I'm unimpressed.

The Duke of Burgundy, film, 2014, dir. Peter Strickland
Beautiful, rich, but too self-aware. This is a gorgeous dreamworld of texture and sound and scripted erotic play, balanced by heavy emotional emphasis which is at times almost unpleasant to watch because the character's needs are so transparent. But it can get lost under artsy montage, the worst of which is a dream-sequence entered via a crotch close-up (I mean, really); it's too smug and too arty. I think of this better in retrospect than I enjoyed it at the time—great potential, a bit too much beauty, and it doesn't work with my sense of humor.

Cloverfield, film, 2008, dir. Mat Reeves
I went into this thinking it was a monster delay film—I suppose I was mistaken, because the monster is all over the place, and inconsistent, and too convenient—most especially the presence of the smaller parasites. As a found footage film, this is decent, although I never grew invested in the interpersonal elements which are necessary to ground the apocalypse. The scale of the disaster is nice, although the monster itself is bland. In sum: merely competent.

Broadchurch, series 2, 2015
The writing here is better than the first series: less episodic, more cohesive as a whole. The casting and character arcs remain strong, especially Ellie, both in her family life and in her interactions with Hardy. But the emotional register and atmosphere are banal. It's uncreative: compare to Tana French's In the Woods: similar dual cases, small towns, PoV even, but the atmosphere is much more intense and the emotional focus has more intent, simply has more to say. The circumstances here are strange, even contrived, but most of the dynamics are disappointing in their normalcy.

Black Mirror, series 1-2 & Christmas Special, 2011-14
The natural result of mainstream media picking up spec-fic with the self-satisfied smugness of one who thinks they've come up with something new while failing to realize they have no genre experience to support them. Slick, well-acted, and pointedly cruel—but riddled with plotholes and unable to do anything with the potentially interesting near-future scenarios other than to see their effects on the entirely uninteresting lives of mostly-white straight people. It's watchable but the satire grows tiresome, obsessed with the petty evils of social media, and it buries its potential in over-trod emotional ground. Everywhere, every day, I can see upper-middle class white marriages fall apart due to possessive husband and frigid wives; there's better vehicles to explore "everyone records every moment of their lives" and "I spoke with the avatar of my dead partner."

Following, film, 1999, dir. Christopher Nolan
I love the initial setup, the dehumanization/violation that comes from an desire to be intimate with strangers; likewise, the character growth that follows the path of this obsession. But as a thriller, the twists are too neat—it's competent, with engaging non-linearity and good pacing (although the final twist is predictable), but it's too traditional and the thriller aspects overshadow the far more interesting relationships that fill early parts of the film. In short, exactly what I'd expect of Nolan's first effort.

WataMote (Watashi ga Motenai no wa Dō Kangaetemo Omaera ga Warui!/No Matter How I Look at It, It’s You Guys' Fault I’m Not Popular!), anime, 2013, Silver Link
This is one of the better depictions of social anxiety that I've seen. It also has some circumspect trappings, but—to give the show the benefit of the doubt—that may be because Tomoko lacks awareness, failing to question her own internalized misogyny in particular: unfortunate without narrative context, but realistic. WataMote frequently feels like it's on the edge of failure: too painful, too exaggerated, too crass, at moments even too optimistic. But the humor serves both to lighten the mood and to explore the pessimism that piggybacks onto anxiety, and when the show looks towards a hopeful ending it does it without dismissing the Tomoko's ongoing problems. I'm frankly thankful that this imperfect little story exists.

K, anime, 2012, GoHands
The larger than life ensemble cast color-coded for your convenience reminds me strongly of Durarara!!, but K's not as half clever. Still, I enjoyed it. I have a few quibbles: the fanservice is real and it's miserable; the first few episodes are funnier than they need to be and slow the plot. But the large cast creates a number of fantastic characters and compelling dynamics, and even the aspects that aren't particularly complex have satisfying emotional appeal. This is more engaging than it is intelligent, but there's nothing wrong with that.

Wakfu, animated, season 2, Ankama Animation
The only real downfall of Wakfu's fantastic first season was that it took too long to develop momentum. I'm disappointed that the second season has the same flaw: there's too many episodic episodes—with (heavy-handed) foreshadowing, to be sure, and each is fun individually, but they slow the pacing. Otherwise: amazing. This has one of my favorite ensemble casts, and I remain in awe of the strong characters and their dynamic, meaningful interactions. And when it gets going, the plot is great—the last ~4 episodes are worth the wait. There's some disappointing off-color humor in this season, but despite that and other quibbles I honestly cannot recommend Wakfu too highly. Give it a try, it may surprise you.

The House of the Devil, film, 2009, dir. Ti West
Insufficient. The slow-burn suspense almost works, but the end doesn't pay off—the frantic pacing of the climax should be effective, but there's no substance: little cultural or personal framing for the evil, no relationship between villain and victim, it just doesn't say much. I suppose narrative purpose isn't essential to horror, but I prefer it—especially in something that requires investment rather than simple entertainment, as Ti West's films usually do. At least I liked this more than The Innkeepers!

Once Upon a Time, season 4, 2014-2015
The messiest season by far, this one just rolled off of me. There's good bits in the Elsa storyline—although the Frozen girls feel particularly out of place even in this hodgepodge (although not as much as Cruella!)—it's sensitive and surprisingly good-willed, a nice change from OUaT's "dark" retellings. The Heroes and Villains arc is less successful: Belle's moment of definitive bravery is fantastic, but it's undercut by the plot that follows; inverting heroes and villains makes for messy storytelling rather than anything meaningfully subtle. At its heart, this is just more OUaT, with all witless storytelling and bad makeup and interesting character dynamics you'd expect—but this is my least favorite season so far.

Went to write notes for something I just watched, discovered I'd never edited the last batch of notes. Oops.

Blue Car, film, 2003, dir. Karen Moncrieff
Agnes Bruckner is so good in the lead role, and her emotions so accessible as a result, that I can forgive the lack of a meaningful story, the banal and unconvincing predictability of her brother and father figures. Blue Car isn't awfully dramatic, despite its lean towards melodrama; it's quiet, sad, and gray—but in a way I appreciated, that had a sort of grim but not hopeless authenticity. It left me with mixed feelings, but more good than bad; it just manages to pull off its bittersweet coming of age.

Cirque du Soleil: Worlds Away, film, 2012, dir. Andrew Adamson
I wanted this to have more narrative, less humor, more internal logic, more profundity—because "straight people fall in love" fails to (ever) feel profound. What it has in droves is creativity, delightful and beautiful creativity. That isn't always effective, but it's distinctly compelling. What this could have been, if it were less piecemeal and more cogent, haunts me. But as it is? it's Cirque: of course it's breathtaking.

Broadchurch, series 1, 2013
Well cast, phenomenally acted; as a character study of grief, this is superb—but as a murder mystery, it's underwhelming. Top of the Lake was better, for all its melodrama: it had a more united story and better sense of progression. Broadchurch is too episodic, putting each red herring and the whodunit in separate episodes—and the fact that all the white people in this small working- and middle-class English town have secrets fails to make for compelling storytelling. Still watchable, for the aforementioned cast and emotional register, but not recommended.

Horns, film, 2013 dir. Alexandre Aja
I wanted to like this—who doesn't love the casting, the stylish character design—but it was miserable: hamfisted rather than incisive, without the benefit of humor; predictable, sexist, its mythos ill-defined, with disappointing characterization. Avoid this steaming hot mess of a film.

The Descent, film, 2005, dir. Neil Marshall
A rewatch—I saw this in theatres on release. I liked it better then. What's good about this is great: the all-female cast, the literally claustrophobic premise, the setpieces (especially the blood pool). But its pacing is reliant on genre standards, a heavy soundtrack, cat scares, fake-outs, all of which taint the film. Perhaps worse, as a "descent" into madness I find that this fails: the protagonist only grows stronger and more competent until her sudden break with reality, which seems out of place. Still worth watching, but I regret that this film isn't as good as it could be.

The Fall, season 1-2, 2013-2014
This was everything that Broadchurch failed to be. The writing can be shaky, even reactionary, dumping its plotlines at will; it's thematically heavy-handed, prone to Hannibal-esque psychoanalytic soliloquies. But it's so intentionally discomforting, seductive in tone but confrontational in content, never allowing the viewer to idealize its tantalizing evil while at the same time lingering, longingly, in its depictions of violence. The cast is great, and Gillian Anderson is peerless; I loved this hugely.