More
Shows I Couldn't Finish, Again.
by
Kristin Battestella
Once more I've found myself in a rut trying to find new and recent genre shows to watch – resulting in my being terribly disappointed at the tune out worthy trio here.
The Last Ship – Producer Michael Bay (The Rock or go home) wastes no time with snowmobile action and helicopter shootouts to open this 2014 TNT debut. Point of view missile fire and snow splashing the camera ramp up the pace, and it already seems like the first episode goes through an entire season's worth of possibilities thanks to ship introductions, scientists versus soldiers, arctic mysteries, pandemic discoveries, and Russian enemies. Couples hook up, governments collapse, secrets are revealed, and nuclear consequences all happen at lightning speed as our eponymous ship loses communications than receives late orders to refuel in France, port in North Carolina, redirect to Florida, and travel to Guantanamo Bay. They raid an Italian cruise ship for supplies, too, and a black guy we just met gets exposed and dies while doctors work on a vaccine – and yes, all of this is in the first forty-three minute episode! Despite sad pre-recorded messages from home and crew arguments about staying onboard or taking chances on land, there's no drama because everything must hurry, hurry, hurry. It's too ironic when the saboteur tells the sleepless doctor this is a marathon not a sprint as the burials at sea, prayer vigils, mutated strains, and whispers of artificial engineering are steamrolled through in favor of painfully slow, procedural, and generic supply stops. However, I almost don't mind the detailed canvasing when the chance to have conversations provides better disagreements, tension, and situations. The series may have been better off starting in media res if the initial disaster, bitter blood, and isolated ship survival was going to be dismissed so quickly – then going back to the crisis would have had more weight. Unfortunately, the editing remains abrupt with disjointed fade ins and explosions. Maybe the hectic is meant to mirror the action intensity, but together it's dizzying. Viewers aren't there in the action because we can't see anything so it's just overwhelming and numbing when the camera never stays still. Random action zooms and shaky cam in crowded quarters don't define characters. Series leads Eric Dane (Grey's Anatomy) and Adam Baldwin (Oh my gosh does anybody else remember The Cape? I loved that show!) are too much alike to endear the audience in rooting for their back and forth, and the antagonism towards scientist Rhona Mitra (Underworld: Rise of the Lycans) gets old fast before the medical aspect is dropped anyway. It is also tough to know who the doctors, white couple, Asian engineer, lesbian officer, chaplain, and the black guy who I think is the chief petty officer are beyond their stereotype, rank, or position because they aren't named amid the shouting communications and military slang – which will be confusing enough for audiences unfamiliar with naval terms. Half the story is blown by the second episode as more people come aboard, scientists depart, and naval officers end up promoted to land based duties glossing over the original catastrophic action for coastal power struggles. Fine emotional moments and bonding scenes are too few and far between rushed missions, pit stop shoot outs, and drug lords in the jungle like it's a reverse Gilligan's Island with all the off the ship guests of the week. Easily ready vaccines are apparently not as important as hostages, moles revealed, enemy face offs, captures, and land lubber action as the exceptional premise burns out so gosh darn fast with no time to breath amid the weekly network typical. We only stay on the ship for a little while rather than all the time? Well that just seems...misleading.
Salem
– 1685 stocks, brandings, church bells, and cries for mercy open
this 2014 thirteen episode debut before pregnancies, torches, forest
rituals, hooting owls, and promises of power. By 1692 Salem is swept
with witch fever as bodies hang and rhetoric warns the devil is in
town. Screaming girls are tied down over claims that a hag is
terrorizing them – and there is indeed an unseen succubus leaping
upon the helpless. Preachers insist they must save their promised
land from this insidious invisible hell as sermons and town hall
meetings become one and the same. Suspect midwives, old witnesses,
and secrets intensify the witch hunt debates as families recall the
original English hysteria and proud witchfinder ancestry. Although
arguments about a girl not being possessed just touched in the head
and in need of a doctor seem recent, it's nice to see the reverse of
typical exorcism stories where confounded doctors come before prayer
interventions. Chants, contortions, and taxidermy lead to full moon
dancing rituals, animal head masks, fiery circles, baby skull
offerings, sacrifices, effigies, and entrails. Unfortunately, nobody
notices witches talking openly in the town square nor minds a woman
taking charge when she has no rights but through her husband. Ladies
speaking out over their exploitation is far too contemporary –
along with out of place comeback quips and jarring modern sarcasm.
Instead of real tribe names, talk of savages and conflated French and
Indian War references pepper speeches about saving the country when
we weren't even one yet. Killing innocents goals and grand rites
achievements are reduced to the coven wanting to get rid of the
Puritans so Salem can be theirs even though they are already in power
behind the scenes and getting on their forest sabbaths. The witches
versus ministry conflict with some pretending to be the other is
drama enough without Shane West's (Dracula 2000) millennial
grandstanding compromising Janet Montgomery's (Merlin) Mary
Sibley. Is this about the falsely accused, misunderstood, and
lovelorn or the naked, ethereal witches taking the devil's power for
their spellbound husbands and familiar frogs? Revealing the
supernatural at work creates an uneven back and forth that goes
directly against the witches' motivations. Stay in their point of
view or play it straight on the devil or innocent and let the
audience decide which side we're on – attempting both evil and
romance is far too busy and binds in name only historical figures and
potentially juicy characters with weak, pedestrian male trappings.
Hypocrite ministers terrorize the congregation when not cowering at
torturing witches or having sex at the Puritan brothel like this is
Game of Thrones. After
bamboozling Enterprise, I
was already leery of creator Brannon Braga, and an old hat,
run of the mill tone hampers the writing team. In addition to
rotating directors, there are only a few women behind the scenes, and
weird Marilyn Manson music provides a trying to be hip that's more CW
than BBC. Wealthy lace and tavern drab visually divide our neighbors
amid period woodwork, forges, and rustic chimneys while gothic arches
and heavy beams add colonial mood. Churches and cemeteries contrast
dark woods, glimpses of horned and hoofed figures, skeleton keys, and
spooky lanterns however the blue gradient is too obviously modern.
Pretty windows and lattice work are too polished, and clean streets
give away the Louisiana set town rather than on location imbued.
Superficial costuming is noticeably inaccurate, and once I saw a
Victorian filigree necklace I got at Hot Topic, well, that was pretty
much it for this show.
The Shannara Chronicles – Granted, it's been decades since I
attempted the admittedly Lord of the Rings inspired
but post-apocalyptic Terry Brooks books upon which this 2016 ten
episode season is based. However, I don't remember them being so
modern and kind of, well, stupid. Sweeping pans, poor CGI, and weird
lighting set the pointy ears and dangerous gauntlets seeking the
chosen one off on the wrong foot alongside firm abs and Hunger
Games mood. Let's
blindfold people running through the woods and be surprised when they
slam into the trees! The ancient tale of demons versus elves
seemingly gets the John Rhys-Davies exposition stamp of approval, but
our elf princess dresses so skimpy compared to others fully clothed
and at times everyone's just wearing jeans or crop tops and hanging
around leftover machines as if these things would still survive
thousands of years into the future. Mystical speak, phantom voice
help, and subtitled gibberish languages become convenient any time
something magic needs to happen as too many separate stories meander
thanks to weak performances, bad death scenes, pretty teens, man
pain, and confusing flash forwards. A fantasy in itself is enough
without all the cynical distractions, sardonic frat boys, or hot
heads trying to prove something, so the try hard hip for the MTV
generation that no longer watches MTV is laughably ironic. The best
scenes are adults discussing earlier wars and magical consequences,
but those are interrupted for rock music, bathtub saucy, and naked
waterfall spying like it's Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. Visions
of wraiths, frozen dudes brought back to life, swords reforged,
disbelief in evil returning – it looks like DeviantArt and feels
like a derivative Skyrim video
game with half elves leaving the shire to collect stones, avoid
trolls, and train in magic arts. This is a distorted fax of a
fax rifting on Thor: The Dark World's Lord of the Rings prologue
via some watered down Game of Thrones glory
and the seemingly awe inspiring panoramas are been there, done that.
For that I can just watch Lord of the Rings or
Life After People. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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