On Mad Men

NOTE: though the timestamp says July 27, I did not in fact post this until September 1. I meant to put this entry up in, you know, July, but never finished it, so now it's a bit out of date and I have since formed a broader opinion about this season of Mad Men, but here it is, mostly as written the week following the premier, though the last couple paragraphs have just been written today, hastily and without much thought. But, I wanted to get it up since I started it and want to move on to Fall TV now.

Everyone's favorite period drama is back. Or should I say, everyone's favorite drama, period, as I don't see how it won't win this year's Best Drama Emmy.

While last season brought us many unforgettable (the lawnmower), inevitable (Betty's discovery of Don's true identity), and surprising (the formation of the new agency) moments, I thought the content between these redemptive occurrences was mediocre. Grandpa Gene, Henry Francis, and Suzanne Farrell were distracting, and I'm still surprised that Mr. Francis and his relationship with Betty did not make the finals in any of TWoP's "Worst Of" categories in the website's annual Tubey awards. But the season finale more than made up for Matthew Weiner's subplot transgressions, and season four brings us SCDP, only in Arial here thanks to Blogger.*

The premier included entirely too much sex and too many references to Don's balls and Roger's crudeness, but also included some gems from the writers, who rarely need to use more than one sentence to show the characters' many layers and the attitudes of the era, as is evident from these lines (and their delivery by the cast):

-"Do you want women who want bikinis to buy your two piece, or do you just want to make sure women who want a 2-piece don't suddenly buy a bikini?"
- Regarding the lack of a conference table in the new office, a character (Bert?) notes that circle of chairs demands a conversation , to which Don replies, "about why there is no table"

-"I can use my expense account if I say they're whores, " says Pete, while proposing how to fund a rogue publicity stunt.

-"it was going great. Until it wasn't." - Peggy, on the result of the publicity stunt.

Prior to the premier, Matthew Weiner participated in an interview on NPR's Fresh Air, which included some of the following comments of note:

-"The stakes are so human on this show, there's no murders, there's no explosions...you have to have a different kind of stakes..." on moving on to the next stage in the characters' lives, and the trajectory of a show that does not rely on crime and other extraneous events to move its plot forward. This made me realize how many of the shows that I watch do rely on such devices.

-"Don's phantom limb" ...barf. Weiner is either talking about Dick, whom I really couldn't care less about (for the most part. I actually didn't mind the California episode, but those childhood flashbacks and his grating effort to so fully suppress his true identity beyond all recognition I could really do without), or about Don's penis, which we all know is not a phantom at all and would be fine never hearing about it again.

-Don's "almost self-destructive carnal force" ...barf again...Weiner goes on to comment on the reveal of Don's more kinky desires, saying "I don't care what anybody says, that's part of the human proclivity, so I always sort of, um, take that seriously without any judgment or any politics at all and say, this is the place where Don Draper is living right now." This is all well and good, but Weiner preceded this comment by saying "it's not that that's my particular taste, but..." Should we admire him for recognizing a very believable aspect of Don's human condition, or chastise him for feeling the need to include his own supposed aversion to such acts as a qualifier? I think the latter.

A couple other comments before I sign off:
-In the premier, Don offers to walk his date, Bethany, up to her room in the Barbizon. Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't men prohibited from the Barizon? Perhaps they were allowed in the lobby, but I'm almost certain they were not allowed near the ladies' rooms. And Matthew Weiner prides himself on being historically accurate...

-moar Trudy plz

*There was some ridiculous controversy started in the blogosphere about whether the SCDP logo was in Arial, which did not exist in the '60s. I'm not a "font nerd" and I could tell easily that the logo was clearly NOT in Arial. Whoever Evan is, he should be ashamed of himself, as no self-proclaimed "font nerd" blogger should ever have confused the SCDP font with Arial.

Opportunities for Kristin Chenoweth to Sing

...which I didn't expect "Pushing Daisies" to have. But there she was, singing "Hopelessly Devoted to You" from Grease (among other things).

Besides the show being a forum for Kristin Chenoweth's voice (and her boobs), it also looks like one ridiculously large dye destruction print. Along with other quirky aspects, such as the show's use of alliteration, the locationless setting, and the use of pristine old cars in what is seemingly a modern time period, the the show's trademark visual style is one of vivid, supersaturated colors that, while achieved with a blue screen on the show, are reminiscent of the photographic dye destruction (aka Cibachrome, aka Ilfochrome) process for printing color images from slides.

Sandy Skoglund is famous for her dye destruction prints of elaborately produced sets featuring repetitious sculptures arranged in monochromatic spaces. Such images include Revenge of the Goldfish and Radioactive Cats, reproduced below (do click on the images to see them in their entirety):
Which we can compare these to a [most likely computer generated] promotional shot for "Pushing Daisies:"or, to compare a more monochromatic shot, this one of "Pushing Daisies's" Anna Friel:
While that is more than enough photos to make my point, here's one more, from William Eggleston (from Southern Suite, 1981), one my favorite photographers. Though he does not often use the dye destruction process, here we see the dye transfer process he prefers, which, while not achieving the same saturation levels as dye destruction, does offer a wider color gamut than any other color photo process:

I miss the darkroom.

Ross Douthat, Bloggingheads, and Condoms

...because those three things just naturally go together.

I like to indulge in some Bloggingheads on the few days at work at the library when I get to work at the computer that has internet. Robert Wright initially brought me there, but I was thoroughly entertained when I discovered this conversation involving Ross Douthat about "red" and "blue" families. I have a soft spot for conservative New York Times columnists. While the entire diavlog is worth a listen, I laughed in my cubicle when (around 5:15, should you care to hear for yourself), Douthat noted that great "controversy" recently ensued when the Washington, D.C. Department of Health "bowed to pressure in its condom distribution program and it started distributing larger Magnum condoms" because "people said they didn't want to use...Durex, and nobody really wants to use Durex, you know,it's not...Trojan is really the brand name, and people really want the Trojan Magnums."

Indeed, this is true, The Washington Post reports:

"High school students and college-age adults have been complaining to District officials that the free condoms the city has been offering are not of good enough quality and are too small...So D.C. officials have decided to stock up on Trojan condoms, including the company's super-size Magnum variety..."

Of course, as health officials and consumer advocates note,

"...in terms of preventing pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases, there's no difference between Trojans and the less-expensive Durex condoms that the city is offering... But because Trojans are considered the better-known brand, city officials say, they are willing to spend an extra few thousand dollars a year to try to persuade sexually active teenagers to practice safer sex."

Luckily,

"the Durex condoms will still be offered."

In addition, Michael Kharfen, of the city's HIV/AIDS administration, notes:

"The gold package [of the Magnum condom] certainly has a little bit of the bling quality."

::::Warning: the following paragraph contains some personal information and opinions. Mom, I know you're the only one who reads this. Proceed at your own discretion::::

This is all great news (isn't it?), but I can assure you, both from experience as a peer sexual health educator in college, where we did condom demonstrations with baseball bats, and from, um, personal experience, no one really needs a Magnum condom. Besides, I've always found Durex to be far superior to Trojans. However, my friend Ben recently informed me that " the Japanese have it figured out pretty well with the Crown brand," which I was not formerly aware of. Ben says "they get good reviews. clearly an important thing to be to able to read reviews for. yay internet." Indeed, upon further research, they do get consistently favorable reviews on teh interwebs. Personal research to be conducted at a later date.

Gratuitous Bike Post

The Tour de France has started, so it's time for a bike post! ...that has nothing to do with the TdF, because pro cycling is quite possibly the most horribly arrogant, drug-ridden sport in the world.

So, instead of discussing how roadies should probably start wearing full downhill gear due to the unprecedented number of crashes that have already happened during the Tour, I give you what is quite possibly the best Craigslist bike ad I have ever seen, thanks to some guy in Toronto who is currently going through what looks to be a really rough breakup (yes, it really is worth clicking on):

D!

or, The Wire redeems this season of Friday Night Lights.

Even though critics and fans will have you believe that "Friday Night Lights" is the best thing since sliced bread (or the best thing on television since "The Wire"), I feel it leaves much to be desired. It does many things well, but here are just a few of the issues I have taken with it over its 4 seasons (or 3 1/2, since the fourth is only half over on NBC):

• The first season, I was appalled by how much sex everyone had. I guess this was especially apparent with Tyra, and Tim, but it also seemed like everyone treated this as totally normal - that everyone in high school had sex. I guess I dunno what high school is like now, but if everyone was having sex when I was in high school, I certainly didn't know about it. And I really don't think they were...but maybe they are in Texas?
  
• Matt and Julie. I loved how uncomfortably awkward Matt was while pursuing her in the first season, but then they broke up, and then they got back together, and then they had sex, and then they broke up.... I guess I just never found their relationship very convincing. It was a good idea, but the executions seemed off. So, after all of Julie's I-like-him/I-need-to-break-up-with-him crap (seriously, the first time they broke up made no sense at all), the fourth season comes along and she gets so torn up when she leaves cus she thought he was "the one," even though Aimee Teegarden couldn't pull off any sort of soulmate chemistry with Zach Gilford if her life depended on it.
• ohhh, look, Dillon has a 'hood! Three seasons of white, middle class football fun without a care in the world about crime, then suddenly in the fourth season Dillon has a park that is overrun with gangs and drugs and shootings. (Actually, I had assumed that all the East Dillon trouble makers had previously gone to Dillon. But, a commenter on TWOP pointed out that it is likely that many of the poorer East Dillon students came from a third school involved in the redistricting. Very plausible, given that there was no sign of car-stealing, gun-toting gangsters at Dillon High for three seasons, but no explanation was ever given on the show, and I still don't like how Dillon just suddenly has a ghetto).

And now back to our previously scheduled programming: D! I must have yelled "D!" at least five times aloud, alone in my apartment, during Friday's episode. Or at least however many times Larry Gilliard, Jr., aka "D'Angelo Barksdale," came on screen. One of the major things that has kept me interested this season has been the addition of Michael B. Jordan, aka "Wallace," to the cast, and one more "Wire" alum just makes it that much better. And not just any "Wire" alums, but D and Wallace, two of my favorite characters from the first season.

"The way the pool looks at night."

Bret Easton Ellis has a new book out. This is of note because the quote at the top of this blog comes from his last novel, and because I like him a lot. I think he's long past his hey day, though, which peaked with American Psycho and tapered off soon after with the brilliance that is Glamorama. This new book, Imperial Bedrooms, is a sequel of sorts to everyone's favorite debut novel, Less Than Zero. Honestly, I'm not that excited about it, because LTZ wasn't my favorite, and his last work, Lunar Park, left much to be desired in the end*.

I've read few reviews of this new novel, but what Bill Eichenberger says about it at Cleveland.com only makes sense:

At the end of "Less Than Zero," the narrator, Clay, leaves the debauchery of Southern California and all his entanglements with boys and girls for a fresh start on the East Coast. The move may save Clay's life, though it's hard to care one way or the other...

The brilliance of "Less Than Zero" was in Ellis' control and economy as a writer. He never let Clay (or any character) say too much, think too much or feel anything at all. For four weeks, Clay wandered through the desolate, beautiful landscape of Los Angeles in a stupor, his emotions atrophied by drugs, booze and his own sadistic inclinations.

"Less Than Zero" is a mesmerizing novel about repulsive characters, an interesting place to visit. "Imperial Bedrooms," on the other hand, is an ordinary noir tale.

Clay returns to Los Angeles ostensibly to help cast a movie for which he's written the screenplay. But it's difficult to know why he does anything. His is the unexamined life.

Ellis's bent for brutal self-referential fiction was original in the 80s and unique through the 90s, but the more he places himself in his novels, the more he becomes a caricature of himself. I don't want to know what Bret thinks Bret should want out of life, I want to know how Bret can bring his signature social satire to the twenty first century without resorting to the same characters and desolate plot lines that got him noticed in the 80s.

Out of loyalty, I will read this book. Out of skepticism, I will hope that one day Ellis will look in the mirror and see himself, not some contrived personality living in a pseudo-fictional world he created. As Janelle Brown of the San Francisco Chronicle writes, "Ellis should stop worrying and start looking for the exit of his own personal rabbit hole." I agree.

*Apparently Jay McInerny feels differently: "The last few pages of that book are among the most moving passages I know in recent American fiction...And I think that’s something you wouldn’t have predicted you would say about Bret Easton Ellis. There’s no question Bret was coming to terms with his relationship with his father in that book.” Moving passages my ass. Ellis needed not take out his unresolved emotions regarding his father's death on his readers by making them the central, sappy conclusion to a book about his alter-ego's supernatural dissatisfaction with suburban Los Angeles.