Monthly Archives: August 2013

Analog This: Five Seasons of Friday Night Lights in One Post

This year, I am grateful that Netflix exists. It took me a while (well over a year, to be not-so exact), but I finally finished this show in its entirety. I was hesitant to watch it at first, because sports have never been my biggest interest and also I’ve been putting off watching “The Wire” for way too long. But this was the summer I finally decided to finish “Friday Night Lights.” What a long yet rewarding journey it has been. “Friday Night Lights” is not just a compelling drama. It changed the way I view people who are different than myself. Most importantly, it made me realize that sports are about more than just competition; sports are about stories. A coach can do more than merely teach a sport. A coach can also be your personal hero. Especially if that coach is played by Kyle Chandler.

I thought it would be hard to write a straight-up review of the entire series. Instead, I figured I’d recap each season to the best of my ability. There will be things I forgot (sorry in advance for the lack of Buddy Jr.), but that is because “Friday Night Lights” accomplished more and introduced more characters than the average drama that goes on twice as long as this show did.

To the best of my ability, here is my recap of five seasons, through good times and bad, of “Friday Night Lights”:


Season 1

Here is where it all began, naturally, because shows usually start in the first season. Unlike many of its contemporaries, “Friday Night Lights” never really struggled to find its voice. No matter, how many face lifts it went through, this show always knew what it wanted to be: a way to humanize and find the heart inside the tough world of Texas high school football. You never needed to be a sports fan to get on board with “Friday Night Lights.” And even if you’ve never dealt with poverty or absent parents as so many of the characters do, the struggles faced on this show still feel universal.

I always loved the way that the show, especially in season one, made each issue as important as the last, despite how different they were. In one episode, Smash faces the repercussions of doping. In another episode, Julie mulls having sex for the first time. Few other shows have ever portrayed teen and family life this realistcally and earnestly. Maybe the only other American show to do it this well was also kicked off of NBC too early: “Freaks and Geeks.”

Best Episode: I Think We Should Have Sex

MVPs: Coach & Tami


Season 2

Poor “Friday Night Lights.” This show could barely find an audience to begin with, and then it’s hit by a writer’s strike that cuts its second season nearly in half. Still, the writer’s strike doesn’t explain some of the completely insane plot lines that came out of season two. And by completely insane, I mean Landry Clarke murders a man with a pipe and then he and his father set his car on fire. It was too big of an obstacle in Landry’s relationship with Tyra in a show that usually gives its characters more plausible problems to triumph over. The season also suffered from a separation of the show’s power couple. Also, Julie Taylor became almost impossible to watch, and Matt Saracen was reduced to unlikable status. Yet, despite these issues, the show still came out on top, and left with enough good will that it didn’t manage to jump.

Best Episode: Leave No One Behind

MVP: Tami Taylor


Season 3

It took “Friday Night Lights” some time to climb back to the top but when it came back, it came back strong. Some of the most inspiring, intense, and moving episodes came out of this important transitional season. It contained some characters at their lowest points, including Buddy Garrity, who gets into a brawl at a strip club after a bad business deal that costs his daughter her college tuition. That’s a lot of bad things for one person to do, but as always, “Friday Night Lights” can make you hate somebody one episode, and then love them the next.

However, there was one character introduced this season who is pretty impossible to like, and he became Dillon’s chief villain: Joe McCoy. Now, he’s not a villain simply because he looks like evil Phil Dunphy. In my eyes, he is about as despicable a TV villain as Joffrey Baratheon, despite, you know, never killing anybody. It’s not just the way he abuses his son or pushes Coach Taylor out of his job. It’s his pompous, robotic, unbudging ego that makes me despise him so much. Props to D.W. Moffett on a great performance.

Season three was about a lot of tears and goodbyes. Smash Williams goes off to college and in a “Dazed and Confused” like moment, the boys get drunk on the field, because this is Texas. Tyra works hard and has a whole lot of redemption in her quest to get into a good school. In one of the shows finest hours, Jason Street flies to New York to fight for a dream job as a sports agent as well as a new home for his child. It’s also just flat out funny watching a bunch of guys from rural Texas trying to map out Manhattan.

When season three ended, the show had an uncertain future. It looked like its time at NBC was done. That’s why the finale serves as both a season and a series finale. Eric is forced to become the head coach for the football team of the newly created East Dillon High School. Eric and Tami stand together on the dilapidated field, very cautious and unsure of what the future would hold for them. Luckily, DirecTV, for the first and only time ever, saved the day and let the world watch Dillon for two more seasons.

Best Episode: New York, New York

MVP: Landry Clarke


Season 4

Season four is truly the beginning of a new “Friday Night Lights,” and it takes some time to adjust to. It’s hard to see something you know so well completely change before your eyes. After a few episodes, I felt right at home.

The seasons begins as the unprepared East Dillon Lions are forced to forfeit their first game, a humiliation that doesn’t bode well for Coach Taylor or the rest of the team. It sets up a tumultuous season for the characters, in which much is lost and many mistakes are made. Ultimately, season four is  a true underdog story. The most triumphant victory story of the season is Vince, wonderfully played by Michael B. Jordan, who comes from nothing to become a star quarterback.

Early on, Matt Saracen loses his father. The aftermath of his father’s death is portrayed in what is perhaps the show’s best episode, which is highlighted by an amazing performance by Zach Gilford.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget that “Friday Night Lights” is as much about Tami as it is about Coach, and this season was a crucial one for Dillon’s greatest lady. It was also a sad one for her, when she sees one of her good deeds come back and punish her. By the end, she finds herself going from principal of Dillon High School to a guidance counselor at East Dillon High, a smart move on the show’s creators parts to get both Taylors conveniently in one place.

My favorite part of this season, and the season that followed, was the prominence of the Riggins family, who brought warmth and much needed comic relief to the show. Even at his worst, I always knew that Tim Riggins was a good guy. Then in the season finale, he pulls off the ultimate move of self sacrifice by taking the blame for a crime that his brother committed.  Eric Taylor might be the main character of “Friday Night Lights,” but Tim Riggins is the big, beating heart. “Friday Night Lights” is mainly about what it means to be a man, and that seems to involve stepping up when the time is right and taking responsibility, even when it seems absolutely insane. Tim Riggins exemplifies what it means to be selfless.

Best Episode: The Son

MVP: Tim Riggins


Season 5

The final countdown.

For a brief moment in season five, I feared that it was going to fall into the season two trap of melodrama. What has always elevated “Friday Night Lights” above soap is its great writing that always puts the characters problems into perspective. That was lost in season two with Landry. Then in season five, Julie Taylor goes off to college and has an affair with her married TA. His wife finds out and Julie is crushed. She moves back home and stages a car crash so she won’t have to go back to school. Things get a little insane for a brief second, but I remained on board because for the first time in the show’s history, I felt some real sympathy for Julie. Being called a “slut” in front of your entire dorm certainly could not have soothed the pain of her recent breakup with Matt.

Season five was definitely an uplifting one, as the East Dillon Lions became a force to be reckoned with. However, it was also incredibly heartbreaking to watch Vince’s personal life crumble, as his father comes back into his life and interferes too much with his future. There was always a nice father-son relationship between Coach and Vince and that is almost lost this season.

It took three seasons for “Friday Night Lights” to build a brotherhood between the original Dillon Panthers. In just two very short seasons, the bond between the East Dillon Lions created is even stronger, as best seen in the episode “Kingdom.”

This was yet another important season for Tami, as she is offered the job of a lifetime as Dean of Admissions at a Philadelphia college. Does it make sense that a counselor from a Texas high school could suddenly be asked to run an entire university? Probably not, but Tami Taylor is that awesome that I got right on board. This story also led to the greatest challenge in Coach and Tami’s marriage. In the end, like Tim in the season before him, Coach makes the ultimate act of sacrifice and moves away from Dillon so Tami can take the job.

The Taylors were always two of the most important people in Dillon. Yet, they were also always the outsiders, which helped give us the audience a better understanding of this town. They weren’t born Dillonites, but they define this fictional town that feels all too real. Yet, they were even too big for this town. Dillon will be a very different place without them. But as the ending promises, Coach can bring clear eyes and full hearts to any place he goes to.

Best Episode: Kingdom/Always

MVP: Billy Riggins


Best. Casting. Ever.

Movie Review: Fruitvale Station

“Fruitvale Station” is based on a true story. I didn’t know that before I saw it, given that I am an idiot who sometimes forgets to read the news. It’s not necessary to know the story before you see it, but some knowledge would definitely help. In short, “Fruitvale Station” is about a standoff between some Bay Area cops and a few young black men at a train station in Oakland that ended in a tragic death.

That is just a short answer to what “Fruitvale Station” is about, and an answer that does not really give it justice. It’s about the last day in the life of Oscar Grant (Michael B. Jordan), which also happened to be on the last day of 2008. It is also about humanizing the dead and finding empathy by creating context. Oscar’s final day is filled with little moments that normally wouldn’t mean much in terms of one’s entire life. However, they mean the world in someone’s final hours.


Oscar had been in and out of jail many times. He is constantly marred by financial woes and an inability to stay out of trouble. Despite his criminal nature, Oscar can best be described as a family man. He loves his girlfriend Sophina (Melonie Diaz), even if he drives her crazy. He’ll pay for his mother’s (Octavia Spencer) birthday dinner even when he’s broke. Most importantly, he makes sure to send his young daughter Tatiana (Ariana Neal) to private school.

“Fruitvale Station” moves slowly, but it is full of those small, important defining actions. A scene where he personally helps a customer on his off day at his supermarket job may seem like a detour, but it shows his surprising amount of caring, even for strangers. It is all subtle buildup (saying it is manipulation wouldn’t be fair) for what’s to come.

This is a film that definitely creeps up on you and makes you put your defense down because it is a surprisingly warm film throughout. It celebrates culture and family. First time writer and director Ryan Coogler nails everything from the dialect to the food in such a detailed way that you would have sworn that he had lived in the Grant household and followed Oscar around the streets of Oakland for most of his short life. As Oscar, Michael B. Jordan gives life and love to Coogler’s script. Even when he’s doing something nasty, there is always a compassion in Jordan’s demeanor that makes it so easy to instantly forgive Oscar. No matter where the film took me, I never wanted to turn against him.

Unfortunately, “Fruitvale Station” is painfully short. I say painfully because I know that there was so much more story that could have been filled in before, in between, and after. While the film is just meant as an encapsulation of one day in Oscar Grant’s life, it felt like there was a lot more going on below the surface that it neglected to bring up. Perhaps Coogler felt that bringing too much up would hurt the film, which is meant to simply glance at all of the events as is. Yet, “Fruitvale Station” doesn’t feel completely objective.

There are certain points in the film where it feels like the fly leaves the wall to start picketing. Now, there’s nothing wrong with a film having a strong social message. However, debates that deeply explore the merits of both sides tend to be much more interesting and thought provoking. A scripted film should never be a PSA. Even if you agree with the point a film is making, it is hard to enjoy when it feels like you’re being preached to.

If you want to see a film that expounds these ideas even further, watch “American History X” instead. “Fruitvale Station” would be a little more like a modern “Do the Right Thing” if it asked the right questions. “Fruitvale Station” looks at race relations and misunderstanding during a time when everyone has a cell phone that can record everything and then be sent everywhere. What “Fruitvale Station” neglects to explore is how easy it is to misinterpret something when watching it on such a tiny screen.

“Fruitvale Station” definitely does justice to Oscar Grant. Bringing a tragedy such as this one to light is one of the most important functions that any film can offer. Yet, when a film only asks one-sided questions, it falls into the trap of reenactment.

Top 10: Woody Allen Films

10. Match Point

Sure, this is just the serious half of “Crimes and Misdemeanors” stretched out into an entire film. Yet, “Match Point” was a significant moment in Allen’s career. It served as both a career revival, and a rare chance for him to leave New York and find a new footing in Europe. It turns out that he was actually a good match for adulterous English drama. As long as there are neurotic characters with twisted love lives, Woody Allen will be there to write it.

9. Manhattan

“Manhattan” is one of the most influential films Woody Allen ever put out. Its influence can be seen in everything from “Frances Ha” to “Louie.” It displays his talent for balancing comedy and drama. While most of Allen’s films are known for being shot quickly, you’d never be able to tell by the style of “Manhattan.” The black and white is unforgettable. For once, the 59th Street Bridge actually looked beautiful.

Yes, that’s Meryl Streep.

8. Hannah and Her Sisters

While not Allen’s best comedy, “Hannah and Her Sisters” contains the funniest exchange from any of Allen’s movies (hint: it involves the Holocaust and a can opener). “Hannah and Her Sisters” contains a lot of supposedly good people doing bad things, and then doing whatever they can to prove that they’re not bad people. The ending of “Hannah and Her Sisters” is surprisingly life affirming. Allen said this was not intended, but nonetheless, it works so well.

7. Sleeper

There was a time when Allen was known for straight up slapstick. During that time, Allen was in top form with “Sleeper,” a brilliant futuristic farce. Allen’s impersonation of a robot as well as a sex orb (that’s what I call it) are amongst the funniest moments in the film. Some of the jokes might require a little research (you had to be there, man), so hopefully you’re in the mood to do some research on New York in the 1970s.

6. Midnight in Paris

“Midnight in Paris” is perhaps the greatest achievement of the latter part of Allen’s career. It combines the whimsical fantasy of some of his earlier works with the wisdom of somebody much more experienced. Allen mines some great humor out of a pseudo-intellectual (Michael Sheen) as well as some of the most famous authors of the 20th century. “Midnight in Paris” is one of the best concepts Allen has ever come up with, and it is topped with nearly flawless execution. Not to mention, Owen Wilson does a better impression of Woody Allen than any other actor who has attempted it thus far.*

See the rest of the list after the jump


5. Radio Days

Nearly every film that Allen has made feels like it was ripped right out of a page of his life. Yet, “Radio Days” feels the most personal and autobiographical. “Radio Days” chronicles the rise and fall of radio from the perspectives of its stars and its listeners in a way that is equal parts funny and moving.

4. Mighty Aphrodite

This is one of Woody Allen’s most overlooked films. Containing a literal Greek Chorus, “Might Aphrodite” constantly pokes fun at itself all while moving its story along at a flawless pace. “Mighty Aphrodite” is a comedy of missed connections and miscommunications. What isn’t said is way funnier that what is said. And it all leads up to an ending scene brimming with painful, hilarious irony.

3. The Purple Rose of Cairo

“The Purple Rose of Cairo” does for movies what “Radio Days” does for the radio. This is Allen’s original “Midnight in Paris”; it’s a film that deals with one’s longing to be elsewhere. It is whimsical and tragic all at once but in the end, it is a work of escapism that celebrates escapism itself.

2. Crimes and Misdemeanors 

What a strange yet brilliant idea: tell two different stories with similar themes and events, yet make one a comedy and the other a drama. Along with great writing (no surprise here), “Crimes and Misdemeanors” also displays top notch performances from Martin Landau, Alan Alda (in total Alan Alda-ness), and Allen himself. Even at his worst, a Woody Allen joint is always entertaining and deep on some level. But rarely has he looked at faith and morality in such a complex way.

1. Annie Hall

This seems like an obvious choice. However, there’s a good reason that “Annie Hall” remains one of the few comedies (unless you include “Crash”) to have won Best Picture. Unlike most Best Picture winners in general, “Annie Hall” deserved to win. And what a film this is. 36 years later and it’s still as innovative as ever. “Annie Hall” contains so much that it feels like it’s going to just pop out of the screen at any moment a la “The Purple Rose of Cairo.” Alvy Singer (Allen) talks directly to the camera. Characters turn into cartoons. Marshall McLuhan pops out from behind a poster to school some pretentious dude. “Annie Hall” is a rare film about relationships that holds nothing back. It’s brutally honest while still being hilarious. In the wide spectrum of romantic comedies, there is nothing like “Annie Hall.” And I don’t think there ever will be again.

*Unless Michael Stuhlbarg’s dentist in “Blue Jasmine” was meant to be an Allen surrogate.

Movie Review: Blue Jasmine

“Blue Jasmine” begins as Jasmine (Cate Blanchett) lays out the entire exposition of her life. It’s a little odd because she’s not talking to anyone. She’s not even talking to the camera. She’s just talking to herself, in hopes that some random passerby will accidentally be dragged into her delusional vanity.

Woody Allen has a drawer filled with hundreds of ideas in his room. I wouldn’t be surprised if he just handpicked one at random every year. However, this seemed like a nearly perfect time to release “Blue Jasmine.” It’s context is the Financial Crisis. It came out far enough away to not seem like a cheap, timely story but close enough to it where it is still relevant.


Despite this, “Blue Jasmine” is about people, not politics. After the imprisonment of her investment banker husband Hal (Alec Baldwin), a swindler akin to Bernie Madoff, Jasmine is thrown into the real world for the very first time. She trades a ritzy Manhattan apartment for a significantly smaller one in San Francisco with her sister Ginger (Sally Hawkins). And for the first time in her life, she finds herself looking for a job. While doing this, her anxieties and neuroses slowly begin to take hold of her.

As Jasmine, Cate Blanchett gives a wunderkind performance. It’s the kind of acting that breaks a lot of hearts and wins a lot of awards. Watching her here is like watching an emotionally unstable child: you never know when she’s going to snap. It is this part of her performance that ends up being so heartbreaking, because nobody knows less about what is going to happen to Jasmine than Jasmine herself. At a few points, she even partakes in the Kubrick Stare.

Blanchett is joined by an ensemble as good as any seen in a Woody Allen movie. As usual, Baldwin can be a menacing figure even when he’s being nice. As Ginger’s ex-husband Augie, Andrew Dice Clay provides some of the film’s most surprising moments of comic relief. No surprise, Louis C.K. is a standout here. Surprisingly, it’s for a much more serious role. As Ginger’s romantic fling, C.K. is sweet and vulnerable, displaying a very different persona than the one he presents to the world onstage.

 “Blue Jasmine” is one of the darkest films Woody Allen has ever made, and he’s made ones where people are murdered right in front of our faces. In “Blue Jasmine,” some of the most horrifying things are simply implied. “Blue Jasmine” reminded me of a similarly titled film, “Blue Velvet,” which pulled back the curtains on suburbia and exposed the darkness beneath. Similarly, “Blue Jasmine” pulls back the overly expensive curtains on the upper class and exposes the pain, shallowness, and phoniness. According to “Blue Jasmine,” materialism can actually drive a person insane.

Woody Allen has been well known throughout his career for writing excellent female characters. I believe it is partly because he seems to know women so well. But also, he puts little pieces of himself into all of his characters. Jasmine’s fears might just be a more elevated version of anything Alvy Singer was thinking about in “Annie Hall.”

There is an inherent sadness to many of the female characters in “Blue Jasmine.” While they are strong characters, they are also victims of circumstance and deceitful men. It’s as if they are in a sleepwalking mode of helplessness. And once both Jasmine and Ginger awaken for the first time, they both get sucked back in. Dependence is a deadly trap but for them, dependence equals comfort without question.

Woody Allen likes to make films that tell two stories at once that both reflect on one another. Whether it is “Crimes and Misdemeanors ” which tells two separate stories, one as a comedy and one as a drama, or “Blue Jasmine,” which reflects on two different characters similar mistakes in the past and present. Sometimes, it is hard to tell which story is which, because they blend so well together.

Through this film, Allen beautifully expresses the struggle of comfort versus happiness, and whether or not they can go hand-in-hand, or if they are mortal enemies. As the film moves along, Jasmine’s mental illness overtakes her. But the crazier she becomes, the more she seems to be able to see the truth. It’s like in “Silver Linings Playbook,” that those who best understand the world are those who are maybe a little bit crazy. At one point in the film, Jasmine says she got her name from the eponymous flower, which only comes to life in darkness. Woody Allen would probably make fun of me and call me a “pseudo-intellectual” for looking to far into that statement, but Jasmine definitely becomes enlightened as her life spirals further out of control.

Movie Review: The Way Way Back

Every time I catch myself wishing that I could spend a whole summer at a beach house, I realize I might have to deal with a lot of annoying summer vacation movie cliches. That’s what “The Way Way Back” feels like: a first draft of a decent summer coming of age comedy. This might be acceptable on some occasions, except that this comes from Jim Rash and Nat Faxon, who just won their deserved first Oscars for “The Descendants.”

“The Way Way Back” opens with a promising moment of fine character establishment. Duncan (Liam James) sits slumped in the back seat as his mom’s boyfriend Trent (Steve Carell) asks him to rank himself from 1 to 10. Duncan says he’d be a 6 but Trent calls him a 3. It’s an uncomfortable moment in a film that’s filled with awkwardness. The moment works especially well because Carell, who plays against type, truly sells it by acting like he truly believes he’s helping Duncan out. He’s just one of the many oblivious parents that populate the film.


Along with Trent, Duncan is accompanied by his mother (Toni Collette) and his step sister, who’s essentially a teenage bully. Surprisingly, it is not the family, but their neighbors that make up the most entertaining part of the movie. Both Allison Janney, as walking TMI Betty, and her young son Peter (River Alexander), an overconfident goofball, steal every scene they’re in. Betty’s daughter Susanna (Anna Sophia Robb) is the girl next door to the lonely Duncan. For someone who is supposed to be a love interest, she sure is dull. It’s often hard to tell who’s side she’s on as she weirdly switches between happiness and sulkiness at a moment’s notice.

Duncan doesn’t have any friends. None of the adults can figure out why, even though it seems pretty obviously to have something to do with the absence of his father. Duncan mainly wanders aimlessly and one day decides to get a job at a water park. It never really makes sense as to why Duncan gets the job, but it’s most likely because he meets Owen (Sam Rockwell), who is the coolest person imaginable. He’s like a surrogate older brother and father to Duncan at the same time.

The workplace scenes are the best the film has to offer. Maybe I’m biased, because they reminded me of my days spent lifeguarding in high school. Some of the characters at the waterpark remind me of people I know and worked with. Yet, some of them remain nothing more than caricatures. There’s nothing wrong with goofy characters, but they can never leap off the screen unless they have clearer motives and seem like real people. So for now, Jim Rash is nothing but the lonely old employee and Maya Rudolph is nothing but the boss with a stick up her butt. Even Owen, who is a standout thanks to Rockwell’s performance, seems like a shell of a human, because his man child nature is barely glossed over.

It is also problematic that Liam James can’t make our lead character likable or even relatable. It’s not a problem that Duncan is awkward. The real problem is that it takes so long for him to open up that the moments of silence were just making me cringe. While silence can sometimes be more powerful than words, too much of it can lead to a lot more to be desired. Also, James never fully gets us on Duncan’s side. Duncan’s eventual outburst feels misplaced, as if they were scrambling for a proper moment in the film for it.

This is all a shame, given that “The Way Way Back” is written and directed by the excellent duo of Jim Rash and Nat Faxon. Both of them managed to bring the characters of “The Descendants” to life with such love and detail that they transcended all Hawaiian stereotypes. It is surprising that they couldn’t do the same with all the Cape Cod vacationers.

“The Way Way Back” certainly has its moments. I usually like movies which put great detail into the little things. However, there just isn’t enough to equal a complete whole. Good movies like that will let all the little details come together to complete the picture. “The Way Way Back” focuses too much on moments, and not enough on coherence.