The Crown Season 1: A Masterpiece, quite simply

I belatedly watched Netflix's newest show, The Crown. Each time I sat down the show excited me with just how amazing its execution is. Each shot as it lingered, each framing of the scene, the way it zooms in and out. The show made it very clear that it was a portrait of a country at a time of significant change, and at the center a mindful and passionate - if a bit hapless - young woman suddenly thrust into the most looked upon in her country.

But the show does more than that. Much more.

More #1: The Show is not just about England

I'm American. For that reason, the British Royal Family and its place in the political spectrum of modern day England does not concern me. My biggest concern when I began to watch the Crown was that I would not be intelligent enough about the history of England to recognize the stories taking place in the show.

And I was thoroughly wrong.

The Crown concerns itself with characters, first and foremost, and their relationships to each other. England, the Monarchy, and the Politics that run the nation are treated very realistically as the very things they are: monolithic ideas that are more brushed and understood as abstract philosophy than boiled down to easy choices or motivations.

Elizabeth is not simply the Queen, she is a young woman out of her depth in a world of politics and ruling that she never got the proper time to understand. She just very recently was married and then her Father has died out from under her. Her introduction to the role is as much her storyline as everyone else's. If the characters ask Elizabeth, "What will you do?" her very frequent response is, "I don't know, what do you think I should do?"

*ahem* I'm waiting...

This brings us to our second point,

More #2: Characters

If the Crown merely concerned itself with Elizabeth, it would lose its tracking. Instead, we also have her Uncle, Edward VIII who abdicated the throne so he could marry the love of his life. Princess Margaret is the impish sister who captures the nation's heart with a relationship scandal echoing her Uncle's. Elizabeth's Father plays a very important role in defining his children and their relationship with each other and their respective roles. Winston Churchill (played excellently by Jon Lithgow in a "best of his entire career" type of performance) plays advisor and introducer to Elizabeth in the show, making him the most respectable and most ugly of the characters. Churchill is a figure who stands in Elizabeth's way and shows her the ropes. By far these two are the central focus of season 1 and its overall theme of transition. We also have the Duke of Edinburgh, Elizabeth's husband, played almost archvillanously by Matt Smith. The Duke is a man who wishes to be recognized and powerful like his wife, but who has very clear problems submitting to a female authority. If everyone else is testy, the Duke is outright vicious about it. It's almost inhumane or far too caricaturish to buy into and believe, but even by the end of the show, I felt he had somehow grown into his role and emerged a human character.

This picture well represents the societal pressures young women must go through.

To be clear, nearly every episode represents a type of loss. Typically this is the loss of the old and the established to the young and the new. Not every episode, however, and it is in this sense that the show crafts itself. Each character represents nuanced bits of humanity, the lovers who just want to marry, the old abdicator who just wants to be part of the family, the father who just wants to see his daughters a little older before they take power or the mother who finds her place rapidly disappearing as her friends and allies die. It's by backing away from historical fact and significance that the magic of the Crown works, and why I think this first season will stand as a testament.

More #3: Cinematography

Film is an art dedicated to change over time. It shares this in common with music and is that which Literature is entirely out of touch with. Nothing changes a book. If you could read it in a single second it would not count or rely on the transition of said second very much. But Film is about being in a fixed place, a moment.

So when I say the cinematography of The Crown is hands down some of the best work I've ever seen, understand I am talking about the way it focuses on just the right aspects at just the right time. There are moments where the camera holds still while an actor on an elaborately designed set takes their time processing and thinking, about what? Sometimes we know sometimes we don't.

Longer shots are the lifeblood of characteristic, tone driven cinema, and The Crown god damn knows it. The Crown is about contemplation. It is about time. It is about change. And it accomplishes those things in nearly every shot. If nothing else, this element will allow the shows "planned" six season run to be executed with an artistic perfection.

What you don't know is that they've been shaking hands for five minutes.

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The Crown is beautiful. It is hands down the most beautiful tv show I've ever seen. Its stories are far more humanistic than the Queen of England has any right to be. It's characters so fully flesh out the world we live in, full of people who want and take and suffer and it paints so much life and blood into these things that I just want to throw it into a time capsule already. This show features so much of the life people suffer through on a day to day basis. If this is truly what the Queen represents to the people of England, then I fully understand. Even if it isn't, this is what everything in life represents to everyone.

To put it short, if you cannot relate to this show you cannot relate to humanity. If you think that's a tall order, then I urge you, watch this show. It is a modern masterpiece.

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In the next few days, I will write on my indifference towards mass surveillance, but also the differing art forms of Games and Film on the topic of such. I'll be discussing Orwell, a recently released game, and how its small focus perhaps sells the horror more than Snowden, the most recent Oliver Stone film, on why surveillance should be scary.

Did you like this post? If so, consider signing up for the e-mail list so you never miss out on the latest film, tv, music, or video game post from Expository Conundrum! (Hint: It's in the upper right-hand corner of the page!!)

Also, consider donating to the blog! Your eyes are enough, but generosity and support can go a long way to making us both feel a lot better. Support your local artist (by local I mean Internet local.)

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If you enjoyed the modern day struggles of Elizabeth becoming Queen, you may be interested in a more historical period piece as well. Queen Victoria was one of the youngest monarchs at the time, and did not see herself as a placeholder for more experienced men. Follow her journey, by purchasing the first season by clicking on the image below.

Rogue One: A few misgivings about a galaxy far, far away...

*MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR ROGUE ONE*





Misgiving 1: Characters

There’s a scene in Rogue One where Jyn Erso, our protagonist, cries while her dad gives her a message regarding the Death Star. The message was not sent to Erso, but most of it is addressed to her. He goes into extensive detail about the Death Star, its capabilities, and the weakness that he put there. Jyn is crying emotionally, the first time she’s seen or heard from her father in years, but his message is ultimately exposition. It’s telling us the set-up for the rest of the film.

This happens nearly an hour into the film. This is also the moment where Jyn finally receives motivation to assist the Rebel Alliance, which she’s been testy with so far.

If you can’t quite see the narrative issue on display, let me explain. This is the first time we ever understand how Jyn feels about her father since we’ve seen her as a grown up. It’s also the only moment that really justifies her being our protagonist being the protagonist.

I wish this was the only example of a character being rather empty in the film but it isn’t. The entire Rogue’s (one) gallery is introduced by means of a punctuated action sequence. Typically, you would expect them to be introduced with witty battle wrought dialogue, but instead, they’re usually introduced without even a lick of dialogue. Or what little dialogue they have is like Jyn’s dad droning away about the Death Star without betraying the idea of a personality.

The film recovers from this, but it's this first hour that set off my alarm bells. And I do believe it’s the root cause of a lot of other problems.

Misgiving 2: War Sucks (in a galaxy far, far away)

Much of Rogue One’s cinematography and scenes are obsessed with one image: people dying. Stormtroopers, extremist insurgents, the Rebels. War in the Star Wars universe is shown to be what it’s never been: dirty, bloody, violent, ridden with meaningless and meaningful sacrifices. The ending shot of the film is composed on this idea, with the action and drama continuing even once our heroes have taken their hands off the main element of the plot.

There’s something transcendental about this focus, and something about it that pays homage to what I once believed fantasy was best at; delivering realism by means of escapism. When you are confronted with the ills of racism in a fantasy novel, you can learn about real world racism without having to—for lack of a better word—“deal” with real world racism.

They start them young nowadays.

Rogue One deals with the little heroes. Jyn Erso, her father, and other players who are small in the world of Star Wars, but big in the possibilities it gives to the heroes.

However, I’m not entirely sure what this “does” for Star Wars.

In the original trilogy, I don’t remember the warfare ever being super privileged. Sure, the Jedi can’t get hit by blaster bolts, but just about everyone else could. Obi-Wan was the first sacrificial mentor I can remember seeing in a story. Dack in Empire Strikes Back was brutally killed in the Battle of Hoth in a way that I still remember being deeply surprised by as a kid. Star Wars has never featured overwhelmingly clean warfare.

Pictured: Not traumatizing

Furthermore, I really feel like the message they ultimately deliver at the end is very nearly lost as they scramble to make the characters work. Jyn Erso ultimately becomes what the film wants her to be, a tragic casualty, another number in the big picture of the Star Wars plot, and yeah, that feeling really works by the end, but it was not working for the first half. That’s an entire hour of character—potentially thematic character—that is missing from the film.

If you think I’m sitting pretty, and ignoring what works for what doesn’t, then I suggest you look back at the first films.

Imagine for a second if the first hour of New Hope was C3PO and R2D2 walking around Tatooine. Not saying anything to each other. Just walking. Along the way they sort of run into a few of the character’s we’ll see later, Obi-wan, Han, just background for now. Then imagine they get captured, we get one shot of them being decommissioned, and then they’re at Luke’s farm. They are quickly bought by Uncle Owen and sent to the garage for cleaning where we meet Luke, who doesn’t say anything and just starts cleaning them, then they find the message and the rest of the film continues but condensed into the remaining hour of run time.

That’s what Rogue One feels like, a film where the characters spend a very long time not talking to each other.

Misgiving 3: Maybe I’m being unfair...

Last year we got The Force Awakens and despite the complaints about that, it lived up to the original trilogy. It was a tightly plotted celebration of its primary influences and offered character driven and characteristic dialogue and plot. Okay, sure, they just HAPPEN to end up in the same bit of space where Han Solo’s ship is, but didn’t they just HAPPEN to wind up in the same bit of space that the Death Star was in the original film?

My point is that we just came off of what ended up being my favorite Star Wars film to date, so was I ready to sit down and see a less than stellar film on the big screen. Absolutely not.

But I do feel the concerns I have addressed are worth noting. Rogue One is not a perfect film, and its setting the stage for future flicks. I just can’t imagine Young Han Solo being anything other than a typical fun Star Wars flick, however, and it makes the choice of this dark and dour flick beforehand a very strange shade.

Still, go see it and see what you think. It’s looking to be a divisive flick.

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Did you like this post? If so, consider signing up for the e-mail list so you never miss out on the latest film, tv, music, or video game post from Expository Conundrum! (Hint: It's in the upper right-hand corner of the page!!)

Also, consider donating to the blog! Your eyes are enough, but generosity and support can go a long way to making us both feel a lot better. Support your local artist (by local I mean Internet local.)

And finally, you can hang around the Facebook page or Twitter to keep up on Social Media. This doubles as the easiest way to harass me, but you wouldn’t do that would you?

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Click the image below to buy the product reviewed in this post (it kicks a couple of bucks back to me if you do!)

David Bowie - The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust (1972)

Hunky Dory was a great continuation and realization of what David Bowie had created up to that point. However, for as many times as we've said that Bowie's career takes off, I do honestly see what they mean with Ziggy Stardust.

Bowie was always able to capture the strangeness of others, of people, and particularly of rock stars. He lived as an artist, a musician, and Ziggy Stardust is no less the capturing of that persona. The ideas presented here are what we feel echoed in other masterpiece albums, such as Pink Floyd's The Wall.

I want to make clear, I have enjoyed David Bowie up to this point. However, Ziggy Stardust is the first album in this discography in which every song feels like it captures the tone correctly for the whole album. It has few outliers, it has a direction and composition that is nearly perfect, and I have not felt the same level of struggle and appreciation in the lyrics, the guitar, the piano, the band as I have from this album. This is a landmark, this is a canonized album, and this is deserving of the title of Masterpiece.

Film Review: The Lobster (2016)

Review for The Lobster (2016)
Directed by: Yorgos Lanthimos
Written by: Yorgos Lanthimos, Efthymis Filippou
Produced by: Film4, Irish Film Board, Eurimages
Distributed by: A24

Pre-Review

I'm going to do something I don't normally do and say, don't read my review of The Lobster, before seeing The Lobster. The reason I say that is because The Lobster does something truly special as a film. It's one of the purest moviegoing experiences and it is going to be one of the best films of the entire year, and the more you know about it, how far it goes with its world and plot and story, the less enjoyable the first-time experience will be. Absolutely go see this film.

Now, if you're still curious or needing a reason to go see it, let me convince you.

Death Note Episode 2: Confrontation

Welcome back to my episode-by-episode analysis of Death Note. Today I’ll be going through the most important moments of the second episode “Confrontation.” In it, we’ll meet Light’s antagonist, L, and decide whether or not he truly has what it takes to challenge one of the brightest students in Japan.

David Bowie: Hunky Dory (1971)

David Bowie's next album was considered by some critics to be the time when the "real" Bowie had finally arrived. Stop me if you've heard that before. In this type of retrospective, while the compositions of Bowie's songs become clearly more masterful as time goes on, I think we've seen that Bowie's heart has been there since his first album. Hunky Dory, however, cannot go without being underlined as one of Bowie's finest pieces so far.

Part of the benefit of a mostly blind study like this is that we run into certain songs that resonate through the eras, that you've heard as pop culture, and you don't get to learn what its really like to experience those things for a first time. For instance, it was one thing to hear, on the last album, the riff for "The Man Who Sold The World" but I cannot imagine what it must've been like listening to the Grunge Overlords themselves break it out on MTV for a crowd of people who were probably too young to appreciate or recognize the original composition.

That is to say that appreciation is everything. And Hunky Dory is worth appreciating.

So let's look at each song, one by one, as we do.

Netflix Wednesdays: Timer (2009)

Review for Timer (2009)
Written and Directed by: Jac Schaeffer
Starring: Emma Caulfield, Michelle Borth, John Patrick Amedori
Available on Netflix as of 3/30/2016

Review
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Timer is an indie rom-com that takes place in a world where people are swept up in the latest dating craze. It's called the Timer, and it counts down, assuming your partner also has a Timer, to the day when you two will first meet, and the moment that you lay eyes on each other. Our main character, Oona ("as in Uma Thurman?") has a Timer, but her partner does not and therefore, it isn't counting down yet. This is a cause of distress, because like lots of young adults, Oona is concerned that she's never going to meet that special someone.

David Bowie: The Man Who Sold The World (1970)

Continuing our examination of Bowie, The Man Who Sold the World (1970) represents what some critics call the first true Bowie. While to me this reads as pure showmanship, I think perhaps it's important to recognize the musical significance of a new guitarist, but to say that out loud is to admit that I had to look to a Rolling Stone article to even notice.

The Man Who Sold the World is definitely a continued change, experimentation, and evolution of Bowie, but I believe, as we go through his and other band's discographies, that whether we like it or not from a critical perspective, every artist is always evolving. Perhaps that's unfair considering I haven't hit the backend of Weezer's discography yet, but we'll start with evolution as the primary thesis of these analyses.

Let's go, track by track, through Bowie's third strike, and in many ways, the one that would define his public persona more.

Opinion Sunday: Beyonce's Formation

Am I late to the party?  I suppose so, but that's okay. Beyonce doesn't need my opinion anyway. She's kicking it. She's slaying it.

Retrospective for 3/26/2016

This week on Expository Conundrum we talked about,

Space Oddity by David Bowie
Stardew Valley by ConcernedApe
All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy

As usual we have Bowie sitting outside of the loop a little bit. That guy did always like to be unique. But if you want to start with the title track being about life and death, or perhaps just a dissociative state of mind between yourself and your world in general (I mean we could take that all the way to gender dysphoria if we really wanted too), then we might begin to see where he and Cormac McCarthy begin to line up.

But life and death is kind of an easy line to draw.