Trigger Warning for discussion of anorexia, bulimia, and general eating disorder behaviour.
“Don’t watch “Conversations with a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes” alone. Trust me on this one,” Netflix US tweeted out at the start of the weekend, when their latest true crime documentary hit screens. Directed by Joe Berlinger, and based around the interviews conducted by Stephen G. Michaud and Hugh Aynesworth with Bundy before his execution in 1989. Promoted like a lurid horror film and breathlessly trailed as a fascinating look into the mind of a brilliant, sadistic murderer, I already had my doubts about it before I so much as sat down in front of the first episode.
So, I’ve been sober for a year.
Just over a year, actually – at about ten to eleven the New Year’s Eve before last, I drank half a glass of really bad red wine that stained the inside of my lips and gave me a headache. And that was the last time I drank alcohol.
Okay, let me set the scene. It’s the middle of the day, busy street, bright sunshine, cold air. There’s me: I’m in ripped jeans and a green shirt. I’m gripping hold of the railing surrounding a communal public garden and I am crying so hard I can’t see. Fifteen minutes ago, I got my first smear test, the nurse putting a thin swab inside my vagina to check on my pelvic health, and it hurt so much she had to put her elbows on my knees to keep my legs from snapping together on instinct. I wish this is the first time that something like this has happened, but it isn’t. And that’s why I’m crying.
So, I’ve just recovered from watching The Haunting of Hill House a few weeks ago and boy, do I have some shit to say. From sensational performances, amazing cinematography, fabulous direction, and the only jumpscare that actually got my bowels to twitch in terror, this is quite simply one of the best horror shows I’ve ever seen in my life. No, scratch that – one of the best pieces of horror media I’ve ever come across. Following the interlocking stories of the Crane family, the show investigates both the past of the Cranes, living in the haunted Hill House as children and parents, and their lives after the haunting at the hands of the Hill House ghosts as adults. If you haven’t seen it, off you go and watch it now – spoilers ahead, and I don’t want to ruin anything for you.
So, in case you missed it, let me catch you up on the current drama consuming Youtube and the surrounding social media platforms right now: Shane Dawson, a thirty-year-old Youtube monarch with eighteen million followers, has recently turned his hand to making series surrounding controversial Youtubers (including Jefferee Starr and Tara Mongeau). These videos, investigating the motivations, histories, and businesses of these creators, have proved incredibly popular and often offer redemption for creators consumed by the controversy surrounding them, put forth as documentaries (even though they lack any real journalistic bite).
So, the next season of Bojack Horseman is right around the corner, and, this being one of my all-time favourite shows ever in the history of television, I’m pretty fuckin’ excited! I wrote about last season’s dealings with perfect bottle episodes here, and the history of misogyny here, but this time I’m going for something a little lighter – well, as light as I can get while talking about this show, at least. With the new trailer (below) freshly released, let’s shoot some guesses for what the newest season of Bojack Horseman might hold!
So, as you may have heard by now, a Frasier reboot/sequel appears to be in the work; the show’s one-time star, Kelsey Grammer, is apparently shopping it around several studios in the hopes of getting it picked up, and I have some…thoughts on this matter.
We’ve all been there. You’re a TV writer/director and you need to turn in a script, but there’s a little something missing. Action? No, you’ve got that. Drama? That’s ticked off too. Dragons? I mean, yeah, probably that as well. Aha! You’ve got it. This is a TV show with women in it, and that means you need to cram in some topless scenes and jiggle some titties in the face of your audience.