I Watch Things Too: Horror On the Small Screen

Hannibal- Lately there’s been a pique of interest in shows derived from from the big screen. Two of the most notable ones being The Bates Motel and Hannibal. Now it’s been some years since I’ve seen any of the Lectar related films, but Hannibal has always held a fascination for me. Part of it comes from my younger years of hearing about how horrific Silence of the Lambs is, and as any kid does, I rushed to find a way to watch such a “taboo” movie. The other factor which drew an older Jamison in was the psychology. CBS’ Hannibal plays up both surprisingly well.

While some of the gore exists for shock value, I’m still impressed by CBS for not shying away from the intimate brutality. Gruesome crime scenes don’t get me nearly as squeamish as seeing a human being living their daily life prior to a hard cut to Hannibal doing some cooking. The thought of what his prep work entails is far more unsettling than mutilated corpses constantly being shoved in the viewer’s face. And that’s the biggest issue. Sometimes it tries too hard to appeal to the mainstream with procedural episodes and shock value killings. Fortunately, much of that is absent by episode six and the remainder of the season is spent basking in psychological horror.

Despite what you may think, the centerpoint isn’t Hannibal, it’s FBI Special Agent Will Graham and his mental instability. Graham possesses what is known as pure empathy and because of it he is able to put himself in the mind of a killer, making the already unstable mind lose a grip on reality. His job, mixed with Hannibal’s manipulation under the guise of being Will’s psychologist, forces Will to be conflicted over what is and isn’t reality.

When not struggling to balance on the fence between procedural crime-drama and psychological horror, Hannibal leans towards the latter and is all the better for it.

Log Horizon- It’s no secret video games and anime posses an overlapping fanbase. Log Horizon focuses on a group of MMORPG players caught inside a game for an unknown reason. A similar premise to Sword Art Online, but actually handled with a degree of storytelling prowess.That’s not to say Log Horizon is great, because there are numerous flaws, but it is enjoyable nonetheless. Even as non-fan of the MMORPG genre, the intricate systems and subsequent world-building are thoroughly enjoyable. Watching is like diving into a mechanically deep video game.

Protagonist Shiroe's mastery of his world makes for a compelling near anti-hero. I say “near” because while the introspective into online games is compelling, the tone never becomes appropriately grim, which both hurts and helps. You’d rightfully expect the trapped gamers to be desperately trying to find a way back to reality; this isn’t the case. It’s mentioned, but a fourth of the way through the issue is mostly forgotten and there’s an air of content with making the world of Elder Tale their new home. Possibly, this is an intentional commentary on how easily people get sucked into virtual worlds more distressing than our own, but I suspect the opposite. The handling of game mechanics is smart, but Log Horizon is not giving any sort of social commentary.

The light-hearted happenings of the typical anime variety are entertaining. Akatsuki’s beating of Noatsugu after he makes some lewd remark, or how every bespectacled character manages to sinisterly push-up their glasses every episode provides plenty of comedic relief.

Upon death everyone but the NPCs respawn with zero known ramifications which removes the ever-important tension. Roughly half-way through this is resolved in a creative fashion of introducing conflict without having to rely on the biggest drama of all. I can appreciate a show managing to inject turmoil without having to rely on death or relationships too heavily.

Season one is finished, and season two has already been confirmed for this fall, so now would be the ideal time of getting into the series. It’s a little slow moving but the amount of knowledge about the subject matter and how it’s infused into the form of a anime is impressive.

Nisekoi- You know I’m not opposed to the cliched high school setting, but you’ve got to draw the line somewhere. There’s an interesting premise in the depths of Nisekoi’s school-hood schluck. Two teens who are the offspring of opposing Yakuza families are forced into a fake relationship to keep the peace. It’s essentially Romeo and Juliet, but in reverse. HOWEVER- and that’s a big however, shamelessly bathing in every single trope, cliche, and fanservice nonsense under the sun is unforgivable.

It didn’t start too obnoxiously. Watching the Yakuza's kooky attempts to expose the false love or pamper Raku and Chitoge in uncomfortable ways serve its purpose. Quickly, each ounce of uniqueness evaporates and what remains is bland regurgitation of the worst of what the anime industry has had to offer in recent years.

What does Nisekoi in is episode nine. Hot baths and teenage boys trying to spy on the girls is nothing new. Not terrible on its own but when paired with every other anime stereotype such as tsunderes, crushes falling over each other, and androgynous characters being confused for the opposite sex; it becomes head-bashing tiresome. If there was more to it than being a straightforward harem, then I could forgive Nisekoi.

But there isn’t; so I wont.

Trigun- What’s the best show I discuss this time? Trigun...easily.

A year or so ago I gave it a shot and the first episode, while not terrible, failed to enamour me like I hoped. This was the famed Trigun after all, an anime oft mentioned in top 10 lists all over the interwebs. One distraction led to another and I only just recently jumped back in. Turns out, I was kind of an idiot for not sticking with it.

Through the first eight or so episodes the goofiness greatly outweighs the meaty aspects, which cleverly reflects the character of Vash through meta-narrative. What initially appears to be a bothcer-led romp of episodic space-western goodness, reveals itself to be much more. Death and destruction follow the infamous outlaw, Vash the Stampede, wherever he goes. Curiously enough, he’s never directly responsible, as he prides himself on being able to get out of any situation without taking life. Even so, he’s always bearing the brunt of the blame, which is why two insurance agents have been sent to record his escapades.

Trigun, much like the other revered anime of 1998, enigmatically reveals its complexities the further you dive in. If its characters tell us anything, what you see isn’t always what you get. Milly’s brutish appearance, Meryl’s seemed bossy attitude, Wolfwood’s- my favorite- reflection of Vash in priest form, and of course Vash’s struggle to accept his past and how his power affects those around him, meshes together to create some of the most well written anime. From 13 and on, each subsequent episode ramps up the tension and weight of every fight as the final confrontation draws nearer.

I can comfortably claim the second half is among my favorite arcs on television. If only the conclusion was as satisfying as what led to it. The writers certainly took it in the ideal direction, but a single episode to wrap-up wasn’t enough. It’s a solid ending, but I was expecting Trigun to go out with more of a bang.

Barring some production value issues, and an ending hastily done, I can’t suggest Trigun enough. Much of it’s tones and themes are steeped in spoilers, so how about you go watch it for yourself.

Bates Motel- Yes, like Hannibal this a contemporary prequel to an enormously popular horror film. Unlike Hannibal, Bates Motel meanders with no clear purpose.

The first episode -this is a spoiler and I don’t care- displays a lack of tact. Eschewing any sort of tension, Norman helps his mother cover up the murder of the former motel owner. The idea of a prequel is to see the a transition from what was, to what we already know. What could be an interesting character development of Norman progressing from semi-average teenager to the mother’s-boy-murder he is in Psycho, doesn’t exist. Instead we have an elongated version of the film, but without all the talent of Alfred Hitchcock behind it.

This isn’t the kiss of death though. Hannibal Lecter is- for the most part- already Hannibal as we know him at the start of his show.  Adding piss to the wounds though, Bates Motel takes a Twin Peaks approach. But again, without the talent of someone equivalent to David Lynch, it ends up coming off as a soap-opera. Every single character- and I mean every single character- has some sort of tie to the shady side of Generically Named Oregon Setting. It’s a small town, big secrets sort of thing but fails to be anything more than nonsensical. A hidden pot farm in the mountains, you say? Why wouldn’t there be? And why shouldn’t the cops be trafficking sex slaves? It’s drama for sheer sake of it.

There are fleeting moments where Bates Motel dares to be slightly above average, particularly when Norman is trying to fit in at high school, but for every minute of quality there’s 44 of so-so to utter bullshit.

I Watch Things Too: A Whole Lot of Goodness

I originally had Nosferatu included, but my viewing was nearly three weeks ago. Suffices to say, I wasn't too fond of it outside of the first 20 minutes.

The Sopranos- Many consider the Sopranos to be the best show of all time, but I disagree. Yeah, I know, you’re shocked. It’s not that the life of north Jersey gangsters isn’t intriguing, it’s just they may not be best suited for long-form television.

A cast of varying shades of mobster gray, outside of Tony Soprano, few characters push any sort of boundaries. The majority clings to old tropes, failing to become much more than amusing flat personalities to support the main course. Yet, instead of treating these caricatures for what they are, the creators attempted to make them into full-fledged arches. Trouble is, there are far too many juggling acts and inconsequential side plots. When one of the less meaningful acts starts getting interesting they disappear for several episodes at a time, rarely living up to expectations. Furio’s interest in Carmella, Paulie’s motherly situation, Vito’s out of state escapades, and the prolonged coma are just a few examples.

To some extent, I believe the attempt to step outside the norms of TV writing did more harm than good. Each season lacks a distinct identity as events are interchangeable. Identify problems often walk hand-in-hand with intensity. Tony Soprano is compelling, I won’t argue anyone there, but one man does not make a show. The Miller-character bond was weak throughout because cool isn’t a proper substitute for depth. Most of the cast undergoes very little change.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the Sopranos. Tony is great and elevated by Gandolfini's performance.  There’s something remarkable about seeing the “human” side of such a man. What really makes it is we don’t just see a brutal leader of organized crime. Tony’s struggle with the morality of his work brings weight and complexity where most writers would create something satisfying on a base level. And it’s true, plenty of the cast has its moments. Chris the most notable. But undoubtedly, Tony helped pave the way for the mainstream interest in anti-heroes which allowed shows like Breaking Bad, Dexter, House of Cards, and True Detective to become popular.

I can’t help but have mixed feelings though. Never was I reeling from anticipation of what was to come, or the tragedy of death. But I also never became completely disinterested. The characters, no matter how shallow, still entertained and scratched that mafia itch I’d been missing for some time. The Sopranos is the closest thing we have to the Godfather on T.V., but perhaps there is a better approach to be had in something more short-term.

House of Cards- A product of its time; corrupt political machinations and the search for the truth are not just something you see on Netflix. The U.S. is in a state of being where the current leadership is not looked upon with favor by a good portion of citizens, and activist groups such as Anonymous stage worldwide protests. House of Cards is what the modern audience wants, but it’s not simply pandering.

Much of what fans hold dear about season one is still in place but one issue was how the first several episodes flimsily handled tension. The matter is addressed right out of the gate, with arguably the best episode of the entire series. Frank continues his cunning manipulations, creating an even more ornate, but equally delicate spiderweb.

Where season two falters though is in the characters. Many points are as good, if not better than the previous incarnation, but an equal amount is worse. The cast may not be significantly larger, but Freddy, Lucas, Rachel and others ensure content overlord of a mixed bag quality. Some are better- Claire most of all- while others- Doug Stamper- are worse. More concerning are those who seem to gain relevance only to disappear for an undetermined amount of time. It would be one thing if there were poor additions, but many are rather interesting and amount to little more than a tease.

Barring inconsistencies, and some episodes being more scandalous than political, season two is on par with the first. Kevin Spacey continues to be one of the best leads in a post- Bryan Cranston-landscape and the finale shapes up for a pretty incredible premise for season three.

Kids on the Slope- Stories are predictable, humans are not. Good characters can direct their own narrative and the cast of Kids on the Slope are the embodiment of director Shinichiro Watanabe.  

The use of music is more direct than most of his other works. Jazz doesn’t only play a role in setting the scene, but can be found at the center-point of the intricate relationships. There’s also the matter of this being Watanabe’s only non-original work and usage of the common high school backdrop. Unsurprisingly, such things can’t hold back supremely talented folks.

As a piece of storytelling, Kids on the Slope is what writers need to be inspired by. So often exposition becomes long-winded. Why waste time treating the audience like a child by over explaining? There’s a quote whom I forget it belongs to but it goes like this.

“Give your audience 2+2, not 4.”

Meaning have faith in the intellect of your fans. How do I know Kids on the Slope is set in the mid-to-late sixties? Because of context clues. Uniform styles, architecture, the types of music being discussed: they all play a major role. The same goes for the cast. You learn who they are the same way you would in real life; by getting to know them over time. It's no secret anime has a fixation on the high school, but Kids on the Slope captures the setting best with a mixture of youth over-idolization and a coming-of-age comparable to any other narrative out there.

I got a kick out of having both this and the Sopranos in the same piece. On one hand we have a six season show -which when finished- I wasn’t sad to see it go. Kids on the Slope though, at a mere 12 episodes, grabbed me and never let go. The angst filled high school experiences are something we all can relate to, but for me it resonated especially well in a somber and regretful sort of way. The ending is rushed, but at the same time respectful of the characters. In no way are last minute revelations shoe-horned in and the it's incredible how fleshed out they become in such a short time.

Yeah, it’s an anime and I know many of you that I know personally may have reservations about them, but I’ll let you in on a secret. Watanabe and Kids on the Slope deserve as much, if not more, respect than every other show here.

True Detective- I’ve never made it any secret the skepticism I approach most crime-dramas with. Procedural shows are just that, and art has no award-winning formula. Not everything has to be completely out of the box though, which my list of favorite shows proves. True Detective, quite literally came onto the scene with more than a few tired old strategies, but it wasn’t the crime, killer, or crime-solving which defined the experience. In an abusive atmosphere what shines through are Rust and Marty, and how the case changes them over the course of 17 years and eight episodes.

It’s amusing to see a show which focuses so strongly on two single leads and still manages to have a more intriguing case than those which put the crime before the characters. In fact, it’s because McConaughey and Harrelson are so great. It’s almost as if captivating people make for an equally captivating story. Who knew? And remember how I mentioned earlier that Spacey is one of the best  on T.V. right now? Well, the true king is Matthew McConaughey. A pure nihilist, Rust walks a thin line between genius and insanity, which plays a huge role in the thematic direction.

At the heart of a foreboding air of cynicism and ritualistic murder lies some brilliant craftsmanship. Breaking Bad is praised for excellent cinematography of the gorgeous New Mexico desert. Director Cary Joji Fukunage does an almost equally spectacular job using the drab backwaters of Louisiana. Even when in more urban settings, the cinematography is masterful, as the final 15 minutes of episode four exemplifies.

Spoiler alert for the series finale: I’m not all that fond of how Rust undergoes his transformation from grand nihilist to full-blown optimist. He has a near death experience in which he sees his deceased daughter and comes out of it with a positive outlook on life. The Rust of yore would have written that off as a delusion, especially when stacked against the fact he suffers from random visions. What it comes down to is show versus tell. We were told Rust changed. One scene he’s his cynical self, the next he’s waking up from a coma and coming out of a discussion with Marty as the more positive of the two. End spoiler alert.

I’m sad to see True Detective go, doubly so because of its anthology approach. Rust and Marty are gone and any subsequent seasons will pick up with a new cast and story. At the same time I admire the choice. To often great shows are dragged through the mud by series’ end, but this style ensures each story will only be as sullied as they allow themselves to be.