Fargo Review

As Hannibal and Bates Motel have proven, shows based on classic films can end up with massively different levels of quality. Bluntly put, Bates Motel is utter shit while in its second season, Hannibal has become one of the premiere works of 2014. Now we come to Fargo, an FX production with an impressive cast and a loose relationship to the Coen brothers movie. Martin Freeman, Billy Bob Thornton, Colin Hanks, and Bob Odenkirk headline as the major names, but the big surprise is Allison Tolman who takes up a similar role to the film’s Marge Gunderson, as the only capable cop.

After three homicides set a small Minnesota town ablaze, Deputy Solverson (Tolman) is convinced her fellow officers have the case all wrong. And of course, they do, otherwise there wouldn’t be much of a show. Much like the the big screen edition, Fargo shows the stupidity of crime, as the awkward Lester Nygaard (Freeman) gets caught up in the homicides committed by a drifter named Lorne Malvo (Thornton).

For those more familiar with the works of the Coen Brothers, you’ll likely pick up on the similarities to No Country for Old Men. With some leeway, Brolin= Freeman, Bardem= Thornton, and Tommy Lee Jones = Tolman. Philosophical consistencies, such as how brave does law enforcement have to be in the face of overwhelming danger, can be found throughout.

As much as love the dark tone television has opened up to in recent years, it can be a overbearing. Fargo takes a welcomed approach of infusing what should be gruesome subject matter with just enough dark humor to create levity, but not so much it’s rendered incapable of hitting distressing strides. Malvo is the seemingly unstoppable force with years of experience as a hitman, taking what he wants from life. Watching how a single line of self-motivation from Malvo stirs up the belittled Lester into transforming his salary-man career and failing marriage into a Frankenstein creation is a wonderfully ugly evolution.

If there’s one glaring flaw, it’s the ending. Few things are more difficult in fiction than writing a satisfying conclusion. Predictable and safe are two descriptors you generally want to shy away from. While they won’t destroy all the good will built up, it leaves the audience feeling apathetic. A sterile ending is an unfitting climax to the craftsmanship which worked to build-up the tense atmosphere. The penultimate and much of the finale nail every aspect of anticipation of a big case coming to a close. Yet the payoff is… well, it’s mundanely realistic with a little bit of plot armor and a hole or two mixed in.

Quite possibly the message is real crime is often boring and the media / traditional crime-dramas have too heavy a focus on the action, rather than the people behind it. That’s if you're willing to do a bit of light stretching before a mental workout.

Philosophical quandaries aside, this is telling of some of the other issues as well. In retrospect a few of the plots are tertiary. Malvo's escapades with the grocery-store-millionaire boil down to little more than filler to showcase how creepy he is and tie-in the film. And yes, his humanity borders on animalistic but that's better conveyed through his interactions with those essential to the plot.

What is arguably most impressive is the creative direction. This could have easily been a re-imagining or prequel, but it’s not. Fargo is its own separate tale, and one can have never seen the film and still enjoy the show. The creators knew exactly how much to borrow from the Coen's. The bleak winter wasteland visuals, the amusing accents juxtaposed to the grim content, even the fake opening regarding a basis in reality. They provide for something intrinsically Fargo and Coen brothers but never step on the toes of the new.

Brief, yet poignant for nearly its entirety, Fargo proves the formula of bringing in big names for the short-term can not only work, but excel. Ten episodes exemplify what I wish we'd see more of from American television. Like True Detective earlier in the year, a tight narrative constrained to a season's worth of episodes can be more favorable than dragging one out over eight seasons. It's not impossible to create something with such life over a long period, but it's often best to have your story written from beginning to end before you start telling it.

The few flaws in the way of shaky finishes are heavily outweighed by what precedes them. It’s unlikely you’ll walk away thinking with new, earthshaking insight on the definition and capabilities of shows, but for those looking for a filmic touch to their television, then Fargo is it.

8.5/10

Game of Thrones Season Four Review

(I did my best to dance around spoilers. You've been warned.)

If you had asked me prior to the fourth season of Game of Thrones what my five favorite shows were, it would have been among those listed. With three incredible seasons masterfully crafting a world with depth and brutality most have never associated with television, it has rightfully earned the praise received.

Expectations can be a funny thing though. When you expect little and receive much, applause tends to be all the louder for it. When there’s an expectation for greatness, outcomes falling short are criticized more heavily. In the cultural zeitgeist that has become Game of Thrones, it’s rather taboo to speak any ill words of it within earshot of those caught up in the hype. Criticism of any sort is seen as hate, which I vehemently disagree with. If you love something, you want it to be the best it can be. This is precisely why I see the fourth season as a step down from the lofty heights of its predecessors. It didn’t meet my expectations: plain and simple.

With that said, a season worse than the others still leaves plenty of room for greatness.

While co-creators David Benioff and D.B. Weiss prefer to not sum up each iteration with a running theme, this was undoubtedly the year of the younger faces learning how to deal with the unforgiving nature of their world. Jon, Sansa, Arya, Bran, Danny, all of them evolve in ways showing a pragmatic ruthlessness which we had only seen in drips. The trouble is- outside of Sansa who often plays second fiddle in her scenes- the evolutions are stretched and inconsistent.

Danny in particular is the biggest offender. For three seasons now we’ve seen her building up an army. What came of her latest exploits? Well, she now presides over the cities which she fought to free from slavery rather than crossing the Narrow Sea. The interesting result is she’s now gotten a taste of what it’s like to rule, but that’s only "well" executed across the initial four or five episodes. The remainder of her presence is little more than a reminder. A tacked on romance between Grey Worm and Missandei, repetitious court sessions, a brief finale scene of dragon punishment; none of these compare to her presence in the latter moments of the previous three seasons. Her arc has been all about anticipation and payoff. Seeing her get wronged and then bringing satisfactory justice to those at fault, while continuing to build up her eventual arrival to Westeros.

And that sums up this season’s big issue. Too many characters. While at one point Game of Thrones’ masterful manipulation of more plots than seemingly possible was a strength, the continued addition and fracturing of plots paved the way for hollow presentations. Stannis, Theon, Ygritte, Brienne, Gilly; even bigger names like Bran, Danny, and Arya all beg an important question. Do you miss them when they aren’t on screen? Most of the time my answer is a resounding no. The cast has become so large you can hardly say there was a major focal point. Season one had Ned, two had Tyrion, and three took a collective approach with a handful of those in power vying for control of the Iron Throne. Season four is much more of a conglomerate, where the creators seem to aim for equal importance of all and end up with a less impactful presence across the board.

But what of the second draw? The cruel treatment of all characters by which author George R.R. Martin has become known for. In its unpredictability, Game of Thrones has become somewhat predictable. At least when it comes to death. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, just a new challenge. If the audience knows no one is safe then how do you still make them care when death comes knocking? The solution is admittedly straightforward, but not all that easy to execute. You’ve got to make the characters worth caring about. A prime example would be the closing moments of the episode titled “ The Viper and The Mountain.” I knew a certain someone’s demise was a possibility, but damn if there weren't  Attack on Titan levels of uncomfortability on resonating outward as I viewed. Every act of betrayal or untimely demise feels deeply personal, because of how well done the majority of characters are. Though one can now suspect anytime we starting taking a liking to someone they're most likely next on the chopping block.

While it’s true most shows save these hard hitting moments for last, Game of Thrones has a history of packing penultimates with what many consider to be the high points of each season, while the finales act more as hype machines for what’s to come. Thankfully this wasn’t the case. Not that I dislike the approach, but the aforementioned issues wouldn’t allow for fewer plots being wrapped up. Stannis, Bran, Arya, and Sansa; they’ve always had potential and it’s nice to see it being realized.

What interest me most though is the coming tonal shift. Those wights, Bran’s magic, and of course Danny’s dragons are going to have a major effect on the fantasy versus political machinations balance. Come season six and beyond, I can see this being a welcoming alteration. By no means has the backstabbing and less fantastical elements grown tiresome, but considering the creators were aiming for seven seasons before G.R.R.M. expressed interest in an eighth book, such an evolution would help keep things fresh.

Game of Thrones continues to be one of the best shows currently airing. While I’m disappointed it hasn’t more confidently strode into the throne which was once held by Breaking Bad, I’m unable to say that it’s anything less than holistically great. Season four certainly has balancing issues in regards to its overabundance of characters, and one particular death didn’t hit nearly as hard as I would have liked. Conversely, the crux of what makes the world such a complex and believably morose place still holds true. The cast is a superior one to most on television these days, and the writing and acting remains mostly indomitable. Other than that whole rape scene which the director denies is a rape scene. That's easily the lowest point of the entire series.

Is Game of Thrones the best show of 2014? No, I can confidently put a handful ahead of it. It is however more than worth your time and if you’ve not already jumped on the Game of Thrones wagon, this is nothing to be discouraged by.

8.5/10