“What We Do In The Shadows” (Season 1)
Inspired by Taika Waititi and Jemaine Clement’s 2014 film of the same name, FX’s first season of “What We Do In The Shadows” was a perfect introduction to the vampires of Staten Island. Following three dimwitted vampires, Nandor (Kayvan Novak), Laszlo (Matt Berry), and Nadja (Natasia Demetriou), Waititi and Clement hold the reins on this sardonic and wry show that is an absolute bloody good time. Combined with stand out performances from supporting roles including Harvey Guillen, Mark Proksch, and Beanie Feldstein, “What We Do In The Shadows” meshes lore and absurdism with ease. The premise makes for a warped but idiosyncratic mockumentary sprinkled with healthy doses of self-awareness and parody to other blood-sucking vehicles as “Bram Stroker’s Dracula” and the “Twilight” franchise. At the apex of the series, one of the best episodes of the year sees cameos from the likes of Oscar-winning talent, familiar (if pale) vampiric faces, and healthy doses of ridiculous circumstances made even more absurd. With an order made for season two, there’s enough blood left in this series to keep night-time viewers fully satisfied upon the show’s return. For fans of Waititi and Clement’s original film, the series not only met expectations but succeeded them, leaving nothing but hope for what’s to come in the future. — Julia Teti [Our Review.]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VWUiU3t5udM
“PEN15” (Season 1)
As we get older, our lives inevitably become busier. Friendships begin to slowly dissolve and much of the time you do spend with your old friends revolves around talking about the past. Nostalgia is a source of comfort for us all, and it’s also a focal theme for much of the entertainment we consume. With the massive success of Netflix’s “Stranger Things” and Disney dominating the marketplace with reboots, “live-action” remakes, and endless reimaginings of old properties, there’s no shortage of films and television to stimulate the longing most of us feel for our bygone days. What makes “PEN15,” the early 2000s nostalgia trip created by real-life best friends Maya Erskine and Anna Konkle, so special is that the show rises above the easy “Remember this?!” stylizations that similar films and shows often succumb to. Yes, the show’s period detail is impeccable and spot-on, but the show wouldn’t work if its emotional core wasn’t so brutally honest and shockingly relatable. Maybe that’s because the show’s stars have almost two decades of distance from their own respective middle school experiences, but it could also just be an indication of how freakishly talented they are. Borrowing a page from the “Wet Hot American Summer” playbook, Erskine and Konkle (both in their 30’s) play themselves as 13-year-olds, but their performances never feel like a gag. They’re incredibly talented actors, and it shows. Both commit to the physical awkwardness of puberty with such commanding authenticity that the viewer completely forgets they’re watching grown adults interacting with actual teenagers. “PEN15” is also a perfect portrayal of the in-between millennial generation, expertly depicting a time when every house didn’t have a computer in it, and when the sound of a door opening on AIM could make your heart race with excitement. Our stars never wink at the camera or let scenes play out with baggy, Apatovian pop-culture riffing. They’ve crafted characters that are true to themselves, and also to the experiences of so many from their generation. “PEN15” might just be the most consistently laugh-out-loud (sorry, LOL) show of the year – and surprisingly, one of the most heartbreaking. – MR
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RLkEpO3k514
“Ramy” (Season 1)
While it may appear, at first, to be just another funny-sad small-screen comedy about the inner life of a fumbling 20-something, Hulu and A24’s “Ramy” is a more deceptively radical work of television than some critics (even those who gave it glowing reviews) may be willing to admit. Acclaimed stand-up comic Ramy Youssef plays a slightly fictionalized version of himself: a first-generation Muslim-American navigating the complexities of faith, friendship, and sex in a vividly rendered version of modern-day New Jersey. “Ramy” is, among other things, an expert comedy of embarrassment, whether it’s depicting its hapless protagonist dating outside of his faith, buying booze for underage girls, or perpetually disappointing his kind, well-meaning parents. The show’s rich well of inspiration derives primarily from a sense of conflict. The Ramy of “Ramy” is a characteristically jaded millennial who also happens to be devoted to the Muslim faith that his reverent mom and dad raised him in. “Ramy” often takes breathtaking tonal gambles, almost always sticking the landing: one episode shows a prepubescent Ramy engaging in a post-9/11 conversation with an imagined Osama Bin Laden, another observes the protagonist’s day-to-day grind working in New Jersey’s Diamond District alongside his regrettably anti-Semitic uncle. In the back half of its first season, “Ramy” expands its focus to make time for the lead character’s put-upon parents (Amr Wakked and “Succession’s” Hiam Abbass, both exceptional), his sister (May Calamawy), his disabled co-worker Stevie (Stephen Way, infusing a role that might otherwise be cringe-worthy with palpable pathos), and his loyal, shit-talking best pals, Mo and Ahmed (comics Mohammed Amer and Dave Merheje). It’s a hilarious, heartbreaking, pleasurably familiar comic odyssey of millennial malaise and romantic uncertainty, told from a culturally fresh angle that makes it feel genuinely new. – NL
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N4Ek09B9YaY
“Russian Doll” (Season 1)
Few shows surprised us as much as Netflix’s “Russian Doll”: a coarse, heartfelt, endlessly imaginative, and very of-the-moment update on the perennial “Groundhog Day” formula. The show boasts an impressive brain trust – Natasha Lyonne, who also stars and gives one of the funniest and most assured television performances of the year, as well as “Sleeping with Other People” director Leslye Headland (who helmed several episodes) and none other than Amy Poehler – in addition to the kind of high-concept hook that can open network doors even if your show isn’t co-created by one of the stars of “Parks and Rec.” Lyonne embodies protagonist Nadia Vulvokov with her signature alchemy of abrasiveness and wry understatement. Nadia dies early in the first episode (not a spoiler), only to find herself trapped in a kind of cyclical time loop where she finds herself re-living the day of her mortal departure over and over again (always to the ironically chipper sounds of Harry Nilsson’s pop number “Gotta Get Up”). “Russian Doll” ultimately transcends its gimmicky central premise, evolving into a textured and authentic depiction of modern New York City and a witty rumination on the futility of life itself. Nadia believes that “being a person is a fucking nightmare,” and while she’s not entirely incorrect, “Russian Doll” also believes in the lasting power of the connections you make along the way – you know, before it all goes black. This is an invigoratingly surreal, often uproarious look at life, death, and everything in between, bolstered by Lyonne’s unapologetic lead performance, enviably acerbic dialogue, and an unexpectedly humane finale that’s both life-affirming and also true to the show’s wonky, experimental spirit. If you’re looking for a millennial update of Martin Scorsese’s “After Hours” that will make you laugh, think, and get choked up with emotion – this is your ticket. – NL [Our Review]
“Game of Thrones,” (Season 8)
** Spoilers ahead for those that are still crazy about “Game Of Thrones” spoilers** There’s been no shortage of critical ink spilled over the eighth and final season of “Game of Thrones,” inarguably HBO’s biggest and most expansive prestige drama to date. There were those who thought the long-awaited Battle of Winterfell was too dimly-lit, those who felt that the nefarious Night King was dispatched with much too quickly, and those who thought the second episode, “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms,” was an incongruous hangout episode that eschewed plot machinations in favor of beloved characters shooting the shit and trading war stories of yore (there’s also been no shortage of bellyaching over the controversial series finale, not to mention that idiotic petition demanding that showrunners D.B. Weiss and David Benioff, um, remake the entire season). There were also those who simply didn’t buy Daenerys Targaryen’s disturbing transformation into the proverbial Mad Queen, who felt that her torching both the innocent and guilty citizens of King’s Landing was an incongruous bit of character development. The show’s detractors would have you believe that both Daenerys and Cersei Lannister had been reduced to overly hysterical female despots in a fictional landscape overrun by bearded, brooding dudes. For all its flaws (and there are many), it’s hard to dispute that there has been nothing in our current TV landscape that matches “Game of Thrones” for bombast, aplomb, and sheer scope. The staggeringly ambitious adaptation of George R.R. Martin’s series of fantasy novels is a gorgeous, albeit problematic, epic without precedent, populated by an ensemble of some of the most memorable characters to be seen in any HBO drama, ever. While some fans have accused the show’s writers of fast-tracking certain crucial narrative developments, the show’s grand but abbreviated eighth chapter nevertheless offered viewers a breathtaking marriage of violent spectacle and mythological awe – one that no other television drama before it or after it has come close to matching. We’ll doubtlessly be debating the finale of “Game of Thrones” for years to come (aren’t we still talking about that final shot of “The Sopranos” finale?), but one thing is for certain: there’s never been a small-screen saga like this one, and there probably won’t be ever again.– NL [Our Review of that Much-Discussed Finale]
