This fucking show, man. I swear, every time I write a bad review (like last week), it comes back with an episode packed to the gills with reminders as to what it was I loved so much about American Horror Story in the first place.
“Man hands on misery to man/It deepens like a coastal shelf/ Get out as early as you can/And don’t have any kids yourself”. If there’s any quote that sums up the latest season of the inimitable Bojack Horseman, it’s the final lines of Philip Larkin’s This Be The Verse – an indictment of inherited misery and the way pain echoes down generations of a single family. But more than that, season four of everyone’s favourite depressive show about an ex-sitcom star who’s more horse than man (or is he more man than a horse?) is a tirade against historical misogyny – and how it, above all else, has inflicted horrendous physical and emotional pain on three generations of the lead character’s family. Spoilers for season four ahead.
All is not well in American suburbia. But when is it ever?
I was watching the latest episode of American Horror Story, season seven’s premier titled Election Night, taking in the sight of Evan Peters pissing generously into a rapidly-ballooning condom that dominates the entire frame while gruntingly singing a bastardised verison of “La Cucaracha” and let out a sigh. Well, we’re back.
So, it’s been a while since I’ve done a good ol’ show review on this humble blog of mine, and, with The Defenders series (the Netflix Original that brings together Daredevil, Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, and Iron Fist, who starred in their own series in the lead-up to this) finally dropping yesterday, it seems like I’ve got the perfect bit of blog fodder to dissect. Without further ado let’s talk about the sporadic highs and numerous lows Marvel’s latest release has to offer.
You might think I’ve grown weary of hating on The Walking Dead. You’d be wrong. Spoilers ahead for the season seven finale. Without further ado: a list of questions I still have after last night’s episode. The First Day of the Rest of Your Life.
With Iron Fist finally out and the team-up Defenders series due out later this year, it struck me that I haven’t actually written about any of the other Defenders shows. And that’s a shame, because I have some OPINIONS. On with the ranking! From worst to best:
As you’ve probably heard by now, Iron Fist, the latest and final series to debut in the Defenders quartet, was out yesterday. Critical consensus on the show was negative, but that only seemed to stoke more interest around it; it couldn’t be THAT bad, right?
Obviously, inevitably, it is. I’m no fan of superhero shows at the best of times (aside from the still-mindblowing Legion and the obviously excellent Jessica Jones), but Iron Fist usurps Gotham as the laziest, least compelling example of the genre to date.
Yeah, it’s only been a couple of weeks since I wrote about Riverdale, but since I’ve spent most of the intervening time staring into the middle distance, squinting slightly and thinking about this gloriously gothic teen drama. Yeah, it’s not perfect, but it is wildly compelling and by far one of my most-anticipated weekly releases (because hey, I don’t see any other shows having Dark Betty boil men in hot tubs, you know?). Of course, this season revolves around the mystery of Jason Blossom – who killed him, why, and what was he running from when he was fleeing the town of Riverdale? Well, I am a sucker for fan theories, and am not above throwing my hat in the ring, so let’s get down on some of my more poorly thought-out rantings and ravings!
The Cutprice Guignol 