Book Review: I Like to Watch: Arguing My Way Through the TV Revolution

(Bought at the Strand Book Store for $10): Pulitzer Prize winning critic Emily Nussbaum's collection of reviews and profiles from the New Yorker forms a fascinating history of the evolution of TV in the early 21st century. From the rise of cable to the current state of streaming, Nussbaum digs deep into the meaning of such cult and pop hits as Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The Americans, Law and Order: SVU, Jane the Virgin, and many others. Her take on David Chase's love-hate relationship with his audience in The Sopranos brings up several interesting points like the moral ambiguity of Dr. Melfi helping Tony not to be a better man but a more efficient gangster. She says Chase makes us love Tony but then makes us hate ourselves for loving him and watching him every week.  I haven't watched ALL of these shows, but Nussbaum makes me want to. 

Her extended profiles of prolific show-runners Kenya Barris (black-ish), Jenji Kohan (Weeds, Orange Is the New Black) and Ryan Murphy (Glee, Pose, Feud, etc.) offer a glimpse into the shifting power struggle in entertainment as these black, female and gay voices become more powerful. There are also views of the past with ruminations on Norman Lear, Joan Rivers, and Sex and the City.

Nussbaum recently was reassigned to cover theater for the New Yorker and I'm looking forward to her perspectives.

James Gandolfini: An Actor Who Challenged Himself

Like most of you, I became aware of the late James Gandolfini through The Sopranos. But the moment when he most impressed me was in a crappy movie called Terminal Velocity. I can't even remember the plot, but I saw it on a bus. That's right, not even on an airplane, a bus. Charlie Sheen was the star which shows you how long ago this thing was made. Sheen plays some kind of daredevil and Gandolfini was a lawyer or agent or some kind of desk jockey who is supposed to seem bland and ordinary next to the dashing Sheen. The only thing I remember about the movie was one moment when Gandolfini says to Sheen, "Flashy guys like you don't think very much of regular guys like me and that's okay." He was so honest, simple, and direct that he totally stole that scene and the movie from the handsome, but shallow Sheen who has since descended into a sitcom version of himself. (Winning!)

Gandolfini's tragic early death robs us of more detailed, truthful performances. On The Sopranos he created a complex man who was a sensitive seeker after his inner self as well as a brutal killer. I'll never forget the episode where he says to his Uncle Junior, "Don't you love me?" and Dominic Chianese just looks at him. Every hurt and slight in the twisted Soprano family history is written on both their silent faces.