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I don’t read a lot of fan fiction anymore. That sounds funny, since I still do write a fair bit, at least when I can find the time. But while I enjoy reading fic in theory, in practice it’s pretty tough to find the sort of thing that suits my taste. I have a fairly low tolerance for work I don’t consider to have good writing, and a strong if not overwhelming taste for things that fit into or continue on with established canon. What draws me to fan fiction has always been a desire for more of the story and characters I have come to love, so I’m not super interested in stuff that doesn’t build off of that. I think most fic writers prefer to play with and change things, at least based on what I’ve observed, so while there definitely is some of my preferred style out there, it’s often really difficult to sift out of the vast sea of alternate universes, what if scenarios, and outright garbage. I’m really just too busy these days to spend a lot of time digging, so the result is I just don’t read much fic anymore.

But every now and then, I get lucky, and come across something that ticks all the boxes. And it really is a special experience. For me this recently happened with a Fleabag story called “Parables of Peace” by a writer called Pennyante on AO3. I wasn’t particularly looking for Fleabag fic, but this came from a random recommendation I saw online that used the magic words— “like a third season of the show.” And to my delight, it actually was.

It really does capture the voice of the show, and meaningfully iterates on a characters in a way that feels true to them. It may be a bit less focused on the comedy/satire elements of the original, but that’s really the only thing. They way the central figures and relationship are explored and evolved is beautifully, authentically done. It was such an unexpected pleasure to find something like this, since it doesn’t happen very often. Definitely recommend it if you liked the Fleabag show.
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Apparently I’m fleshing out this idea.

I mentioned that I thought it could make a cool timeskipped King of the Hill story to include the common fan interpretation that Hank is on the autism spectrum. I liked the idea that the now-grown Bobby is a social worker, and when Hank’s much younger half-brother G.H. gets diagnosed, it causes Bobby to notice it fits with Hank and broach the possibility with him.

The substance of this scene is lacking. I read it through and it feels clumsy and imprecise. Not to mention not all that funny, in that particular dry, lowkey way. But I think the structure is here.


Bobby when G.H. was born


Day #13 - Diagnosis )
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Apparently I’m not only writing fan fiction for this, I’m writing King of the Hill fan fiction for it. Which is, honestly, not the first time I’ve done that.

I’ve heard they’re doing a reboot of the series in the new future, like with everything else these days. I found myself wondering how I would do it, which would probably involve a time skip to where the kid characters had grown up. I always pictured Bobby becoming a social worker who did stand up comedy at night, living a life that made the most of both his sensitivity and his creative talents. I’d also heard that a popular reading of Hank Hill is that he might be on the autism spectrum, which I think makes a lot of sense— his tendency toward extreme focus, his occasional struggle to read and understand the behavior of the people around him, his propensity for literalism. I think that could be a cool thing to incorporate into a modern take on the character. So I found myself imagining a scenario where Hank’s much-younger half-brother G.H. is getting a diagnosis, and Bobby, who shows up to help G.H. get hooked up with support and resources, suggests to Hank he might be dealing with something similar.

But Hank being Hank, he has trouble coming to grips with anything that messes with his self-image. I thought a good person to slap Hank out of his narrow minded perspective might be Kahn, his neighbor, occasional rival, and eventual antagonistic friend. I always really liked the character of Kahn. I thought he was interesting because in an era where there were so few human depictions of Asian people on TV, he was not only clever, successful, sexual, and meaningfully influenced by the racism he’d experienced, he was also allowed to be genuinely, interestingly flawed. Neither an idealized nor pernicious, he was arrogant, a little shallow, and jealous, and a lot of it came from the understandable circumstances of his life. He knew he’d worked twice as hard to get half as far as the white people he was surrounded by in his American life, and he resented those who had it easier and were more naturally likable than he was, which made him behave in a manner that was even less likable. He certainly isn’t a perfect portrayal— you could argue his pushing his kid Connie to success is a stereotype, and he was voiced by a white actor doing a Southeast Asian accent —but I thought there was a real and interesting character at the heart of him. So I made him the guy Hank would talk to about something so far outside his wheelhouse.

I struggled with how to depict Kahn’s voice. On the one hand, I actually think it’s really important to show characters who are intelligent and successful with strong ESL accents. I’ve had way too many students who were ashamed of theirs, and having someone who clearly had to learn English later in life who also achieved a high level of success is important representation. But on the other hand, as I mentioned Kahn was played by a white actor putting on a voice, which is kinda problematic. If I were to do the reboot, I’d recast Kahn, but still maintain the accent. It’s meaningful to his history— in exemplifies how hard he had to work to get where he is, and how much racism does affect him in everyday ways —but I think that would make it a little more honest.

Their names are anagrams of each other


Day #4 - Everybody’s Got Something )
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Watched Candy, a true crime inspired drama miniseries on Hulu. Every time I get interested in a true crime story, I always get a bit disappointed. Because, whether fictionalized version or non-fiction reporting, they always seem to err on the side of just kind of depicting or stating the facts absent of making any larger commentary. I remember listening to the Dirty John podcast, and there could have been SO MUCH in there said about how the affected family had a streak of not permitting women to really value themselves. Or The Shrink Next Door, which did so little to really analyze what could lead a person to turn over complete control of their life. Similarly, even though this miniseries was a dramatization, it just didn’t attempt to make much analysis or commentary of the events.

Candy takes place in the late seventies-early eighties in conservative Texas, and there are a lot of the expected tropes about suburban motherhood being stultifying and the press of traditional gender roles. But they don’t seem to say anything LARGER about them. I don’t even think they do enough to really establish who the characters WERE, and what the things they did MEANT.

I know Candy is a real person, and I can imagine a fear of assigning motives and judgment on the complexities of real humans— no individual exists just as an indicator of our context. But this is a narrative, and leaving it so ambiguous made it kind of bereft of meaning. It suggests she was just kind of doing the stuff she wanted to do, or that all her reactions were intensely personal, but they didn’t give us enough of a full character there for that to tell us anything interesting on that level. Mostly she’s depicted as a bored housewife who wanted excitement, and when she was called to bear on it in some way, she lashed out. Or else, if you believe she’s innocent, she made some bad personal choices and then had to scramble to save herself when the consequences escalated to a disproportionate level. They try to personalize the woman she murdered, Betty Gore, but she is just kind of every Sad Neglected Housewife cliche in the book.

If it had been me, I would have tried demonstrate more of the press of Candy’s situation in a larger sense on how she behaved. Used the culture she was in as part of her motivation. Make it clear, with her desire for more excitement and romance, she was finding the social expectations of her life suffocating. But also make her unwilling to give up the social benefits of conforming to the dominant paradigm— that she got to be the queen bee of the community, that everybody saw her as the perfect wife and mother, the financial and material comforts of her marriage, maybe even that it gave her power over others in her world —so she’s desperately motivated to hide the ways she’s violating expectations. Even if it means lying, manipulating, and even murdering. As for Betty, I’d make her the opposite— dying to have what Candy seems to have, like social acceptance, no money worries, a close relationship with her kids, a boring dependable husband who adores her —but stuck on the outside of this community looking in. And so when Candy takes her husband’s attention away from her and then kills her when she threatens to expose things, it’s even crueler.

Maybe that’s what they were trying to do, but I don’t feel like it came through that specifically. The actors were generally very good, but there wasn’t a ton for them to work with. I don’t know, did anybody else watch it? Marybeth, maybe? What do you think?

Also, the seventies were so goddamn ugly.
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I recently— well, a few months back —completed a rewatch of King of the Hill, as soon low-intensity background TV. I actually enjoyed it quite a bit; it aged better than I would have expected, and it's interesting from the standpoint of it being a show about conservative people that doesn't itself necessarily have a conservative viewpoint. It’s basically about how they’re being confronted by a changing world and how they are forced to adapt and grow because of it, which is a timeless premise that I think they did a lot with.



It can be too "centrist" for my taste, occasionally depicting manipulative or overzealous upsetters of the status quo as villain-of-the-week. Sometimes those “go too far” antagonists are gun nuts or religious zealots or society mavens, but sometimes they’re social workers or hippies or an anti-racism educator. Overall, though, I’d say it's actually quite critical of the narrow-mindedness, ignorance, and bigotry that shows up in that kind of culture, even as it has clear affection for other parts of living in a small, mostly working class town in Texas. One of the greatest strengths in the writing is how they depict the kid characters. Bobby, Connie, and Joseph all feel very believably like real children, with that very real mix of being ignorant of the ways of the world and yet much more aware and with it than you’d necessarily expect. And I think their conception of Kahn, though not without flaws, was a pretty complex and human depiction of an Asian man for a late 90’s-early 2000’s era show. He’s one of my favorite characters, and I might write more about him sometime later.

But the piece that's most interesting to me looking back on it with 2021 eyes is Dale Gribble-- the basement-dwelling gun nut who's obsessed with anti-government conspiracy theories. If he were a little bit wealthier, you can imagine him being one of those yahoos who stormed the capitol. It’s kind of shocking at how differently we have been forced to see people like that. The show definitely portrays him in an unflattering light-- dumb, helpless, cowardly, financially supported by a wife who cheated on him with a hot neighbor for years, unwittingly raising the son of that other man. QUITE LITERALLY, as people like him would say, a beta cuck. Still, he is largely presented as harmless, and actually an extremely loving and supportive husband and father. I guess they’ve let him be a more well-rounded character, and they certainly make it clear he sucks, but I’m not sure how I feel about how ultimately they act like’s nothing really dangerous about him.
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October Review Challenge, #3 - "What artistic influence has the strongest influence on your work?"

All of us as artists are a product of our influences. Certain stories or pieces of art speak to us deeply enough that we carry them along with us, and often shape our aesthetics going forward. So naturally they’re going to shape what we produce in our own work.

I’m sure sharp-eyed audience members can spot the major pieces that influenced me. There would be no Mrs. Hawking without Batman: The Animated Series. I clearly read a TON of classic British literature early on, particular in the adventure and mystery genres, that shaped my tastes to this day— Doyle, Christie, Stephenson, Dickens, Green, Lewis, Tolkien, Coward, Shakespeare, Sayers, Austen, Bronte, Kipling. The sound of my prose has a lot to do with C.S. Lewis particularly, though that’s a bit subtler. But I think the one that has been the most pervasive throughout all my work, to the point where it shows up in basically every single thing I’ve ever written, might be a little surprising. It’s the TV show Frasier.

Frasier and Niles


To this day, it’s one of my all-time favorite shows. I came to it in an odd way. When I was twelve or thirteen, I was a big fan of The Simpsons, and I watched it frequently in reruns on Fox. But at that time, Fox also broadcast Frasier in close proximity, and I end up seeing quite a bit of it as it followed. I absolutely fell in love, even though it was hardly targeted to a tween-aged audience. I loved how witty it was, how it trusted the audience to understand its big vocabulary and intellectual references, how it blended humor with humanity. I was immediately drawn to Kelsey Grammer’s voice, since that’s a thing with me, and his and David Hyde Pierce’s performances in particular. To this day, they’re some of my favorite actors of all time for how they managed to be so funny, so ridiculous, and so sympathetic all at once.

It’s shown up in my writing in a hundred tiny ways. My very first real play, To Think of Nothing, was inspired by an episode of Frasier where he talks to figments of people he knows in his imagination to figure out a problem. That style of dialogue, where people with big vocabularies and deep reference pools snap back and forth with a crackling, lightning-fast wit, is the style of comedy I most excel at. The particular way they interwove humor with pathos is something I look for in any comedy piece, and something I try to instill in any of my own. I just love and sympathize with the kind of guys Frasier and Niles are, brilliantly intelligent, of excellent taste, and with a ton to offer, if they can only just get the fuck over themselves and their insecurities in relating to people. Niles in particular is on the spectrum of refined, sensitive gentleman-types that is one of my all-time favorite character types— without him, there would definitely be no Nathaniel Hawking, who shares many qualities with him at different degrees. And the relationship between the brothers Nathaniel and Justin is SO Frasier and Niles, that constant alternating between teasing and rivalry versus loving concern and support. I've ever written an entire pilot for a spinoff of Frasier, The Cousins Crane, where the challenge was to capture the style of it as closely as I possibly could.

But honestly? I’ve stolen so many goddamn jokes from Frasier. SO MANY. I would be very surprised if I have a single piece of any kind that has NO joke or line from Frasier, because I do it all the time. The fact that I’m doing a comedy show right now, Dream Machine, means basically resisting the temptation to always recreate it. But because that kind of witty, verbal, dry sort of humor is so often a good choice to leaven my projects, it turns up in my work pretty much all the time.
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A thing that I think really good ensemble shows do is mix up the interactions. I really don’t like when all the cast members are basically just satellites of the technical lead. The show I think that did the best job of this was Parks and Recreation, which always made a serious effort to have storylines with many different combinations of characters, and each had meaningful and specific relations with the others. Mike Schur shows in general are good at this— Brooklyn 99, The Good Place —but Parks and Rec is my specific model for how to do it well.

In Dream Machine I’ve got five leads— Leah, Ryan, Meredith, Josie, and Derek—with a handful of secondaries like Jeremy and Devon with intentions to expand. I want them all to have unique reasons to deal with each other. Here’s some building for Meredith and Ryan.

They are meant to be a clashing of opposite ends of the spectrum— she comes from a straight-laced, academic, nerdy place while he is a slick bad boy power player type. But I’m also trying to build to a place where Ryan sees Meredith’s potential as a producer. Right now she’s a writer’s assistant— which as a position is somewhere between assistant writer and assistant TO the writer —but he’s going to come to recognize how good she is at organization, planning, and reading the room. It’s taking inspiration from how on 30 Rock Jack decided to be Liz’s mentor, but instead of directing it at Leah, he’ll connect with Meredith on this level and help her move forward in her career.

But first he’ll have to get past how… uncool he finds her. Right now he’s too distracted by that. Here’s a scene depicting that, from the idea for when shooting delays prevent anybody from traveling for Thanksgiving and Meredith tries to get everybody to come to her celebration instead. So here’s a scene of that journey beginning.

I did another scene for this episode earlier this month, Day #9 - “Friendsgiving”.

Bad boy and nerdy girl


If you'd like to check out the episodes of Dream Machine so far, you can find them as follows:
1.01 - "The Show Must Go Off"
1.02 - "Requiem For a Dreamer"
1.03 - "Change or Die"

Day #28 - Extreme Rendition )
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I should be asleep. But instead all I can think about is how, in the most 70’s interior design feature of all time, there was a closet labeled “closet” in the negative space of an earth tone racing stripe painted across the apartment in Welcome Back, Kotter.

Why can I not find a clearer picture of this, the most deeply iconic of bad taste in 1970s aesthetics? Why are there not more images of the closet labeled “closet”?



When I was a kid, I would sneak out of bed at night sometimes to watch Nick at Nite, which exposed me to Welcome Back, Kotter. The existence of the “closet” closet has obsessed me ever since.

Ah, here we go. The CLOSET:



What's funny is in my child's memory it was EVEN BIGGER and WEIRDER LOOKING. I recalled it as being burnt orange, and climbing up the whole wall in groovy 70s font. Compared to that, the reality is almost subtle and tasteful. Oh, the whimsy of childhood.

Clearly this is a home decor project I must pursue. ONLY MINE SHALL MATCH MY BLUE AND WHITE OLD LADY COLOR SCHEME. Can't you just see it here?



When I have a real person house, I will label EVERY door with CLOSET.
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Coming this fall to NBC! A reboot of 30 Rock starring writer-director Phoebe Roberts, because she’d be fucking perfect. CHECK THIS PITCH:



Roberts plays Leah Citron (because her middle name is Leone, Tina Fey’s first name is Elizabeth, you get the idea) She’s head writer of a hit steampunk TV series who’s got to wrangle both her creative team at work and her personal life at home!

She’s a perfect fit for a new Liz Lemon, updated for this day and age! She too is a stone-cold size zero fox that is just one unflattering haircut from being relatable! She too still has a closet full of bootcut jeans! She too would just hermit away from society if she didn’t need the validation for her art! She too has few interests outside of writing and eating!

Watch Leah’s zany adventures as she:

- wrangles her demanding diva lead actress... Shari Seesaw... with her over-the-top dramatics on and off camera, like not being the first person off-book waaaaaaaay ahead of schedule, or literally making audition processes pointless because if she’s there, why would you cast anyone else!?

- fights with her unruly staff by being terrified to delegate anything because then she’d have to share the credit!

- uses the creative process to tackle her feelings about becoming an old woman, being constantly pissed off, and wanting to be left alone but still have people talk about her all the time!

- Bonds with her older but still strikingly attractive mentor (Robert Downey, Jr), with whom she has remarkable chemistry and whom a good chunk of the audience ships her with!

- Hangs out with stars of previous NBC shows she actually liked! Nobody from Friends, but The Good Place and Parks and Receation is definitely welcome, and pleeeeeeeeeeease let her hang out with David Hyde Pierce

- Looks for love with a passel of stunt-casted hotties! She’ll break up with a seemingly perfect Australian model (guest star Chris Hemsworth) because she can’t commit to his bug-faced porcelain doll collection! She’ll try to make it work with a globe-trotting epidemiologist (guest star Chadwick Boseman) despite the time difference and reaaaaaaaallly not being a night person! She’ll harbor a secret crush on a dashing director on her show (guest star Henry Golding) until he breaks her heart by running away with an extroverted full-figured mathematician! Until at last she settles down with a sweet boy next door type (guest star Chris Evans) who finds her going through his trash endearing!

- Is at least actively trying to be less racist than the original, and will not get all bitter and defensive when you call her out on it by writing ridiculous strawmen of her critics!

MAKE THIS COME TO NBC THIS FALL!
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All writers have their little favorite moments that illustrate what writing is like in their perspective. To me, the most representative moment I've ever seen comes from the brilliant BoJack Horseman, one of my favorite shows of all time, in the episode "INT. SUB."

Showrunner Flip McVicker huddles in his darkened office, having a meltdown. He has produced a script that reads nothing but the eponymous "INT. SUB", because he has writer's block and it was supposed to read "subway". Diane asks him why he didn't just finish writing "-way."

His response does more to capture what writing is like to me than anything else I've ever seen.



It really just encapsulates everything about it for me. All the weird shit you think and do when trying to pull a piece together, exquisitely satirized.

Like, why, Phoebe, did the last scene remaining to draft for Mrs. Frost get completed crying to yourself under a table in a classroom at Lesley? Because "writing is a process!"

Why does it say "blah blah blah he says something to reach out obliquely without reaching out here blah blah blah" where the character's dialogue should be? Because "writing is a process!"

And why do you need to look at lots of pictures of Chris Evans in order to edit your Adonis novel? Because fuck off, "Writing is a process!"

No matter the question, the answer is always the same, in an increasingly frantic tone. "WRITING IS A PROCESS!"
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Bernie wants me to watch The Mandalorian so he can discuss it with me. I will probably try for his sake, but I’m honestly not really interested. I’ve never been a Star Wars fan— I find it kind of cheesy and none of the characters have ever really grabbed me —and I’m often at a loss to see what inspires so much devotion beyond nostalgia. And one thing in particular is the enthusiasm people have for Boba Fett. While the Mandalorian bounty hunter of the show is not him, it’s clear the whole premise is trading off of the affection people have for the original character.

I’ve always been vaguely put off by how much people seem to like a character that has... nothing to him. In his original trilogy appearances, he has no personality. He accomplishes basically nothing, so it’s not like he’s a badass, or even an effective threat. He misses every shot he takes and dies like an absolute bitch, in a moment that feels like the narrative is trying to get rid of him as quickly as possible because it doesn’t want to deal with him anymore.

I’ve always found him ridiculous because of this. However, I really OUGHT to like him— because, in his popularity, he proves a point that’s really important to me. WHY do people like Boba Fett? Because his costume is so cool.



That’s basically all there is too him, in the absence of a personality or meaningful action. He doesn’t even have hair or a face or even much of a voice; the costume is literally all that’s there. And its design is sufficiently evocative and imagination-capturing to enable so many people to latch onto him and do their own filling in of a personality behind the armor.

He’s the literal perfect example of how much a costume can create a character. The idea that costumes are NARRATIVE, that they can be packed with INFORMATION, is something I believe really strongly. People read them and receive messages from them whether they realize it or not.

And this look is unique and evocative. It looks worn and lived-in, giving him the sense of experience and having survived rough conditions, while also keeping with the very everything-is-junk look of most non-Imperial tech. He is scrappy, practical, weathered. He still looks at home on dull sand planets but also introduces an unusual his color scheme for the otherwise very chiaroscuro films, with its red-yellow-green combination. It feels like a real, lived-in commando look, while still capturing the spaceman aesthetic. It’s aged really well, too, despite having been designed in a decade where a LOT of the aesthetic has not. And his lack of distinguishing features make it easy to imagine who he might be— specifically, whoever you want him to be.

If anybody ever doubts the power of costume design, he’s the perfect example to point to. A multi-decade long fan obsession, spawned by literally nothing but an evocative suit.
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I've been watching the new episodes of Good Eats that Alton Brown has been putting out lately. I'm enjoying them, as I've always enjoyed the show. They're definitely as high quality and embody the same approach as the original. But I am struck by how different Alton himself seems.

Geeky Alton


His old persona basically screamed GEEK. He wore bowling shirts and had mad scientist hair, he embraced his corny sense of humor, and he did lots of cutesy bits, like involving a fictionalized version of his family and broad silly caricatures. I think it was likely part persona— at the time, geekery wasn't as mainstream and he may have felt like that level of self-effacing awareness about it may have been necessary to make people interested in food from a scientific perspective. But clearly he thought this was the right way to present himself for his work.

Geeky Alton


Now... he's much more conventionally "cool." He dresses better. His jokes are a lot less cheesy. There a lot fewer "bits," and even the few he has tend to be lower-key. His whole bearing is a lot more serious and less silly, more conventionally masculine in persona. I know he always was into things like knives and motorcycles, but now it's a little more pushed to the forefront. It's not exactly like night and day, but he's clearly become a different person, or at least settled on a different persona, by this point.

It's been many years, and of course people grow and change over that time. It sounds like he went through some challenging life stuff, including a divorce and a crisis of faith, in the intervening time. Of course that would leave you different. But it makes me a little sorry. I always like his unself-conscious nerdery, that he was not embarrassed to like silliness and geeky science and dumb jokes. Now he's just a little more like everybody else.

I mean, whatever. If he prefers people to see him now as Low-Key Daddy Dom (heh) rather than Food Geek, there's nothing wrong with that. But I miss the slightly sillier and more unique persona.
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It's that time of year again! The next season trailer for my favorite show has been released, and I have to obsessively pick it apart just before I watch it! Spoilers for things that occurred earlier in the series abound.



The end of the fourth series saw Bojack in one of the most unequivocally positive places that we’ve ever seen him in. He’s assured that he’s a positive presence in Hollyhock’s life and he’s delighted at the idea that she’s happy to have him as her brother. He’s also helping out Princess Carolyn for taking on the lead in the new series she’s producing, which has, if not repaired their relationship, at least improved it. Things are less clearly awesome for the other leads, though, as Princess Carolyn’s channeling her sorrow over her lost pregnancy and lost relationship into making this TV series, and Diane has expressed exhaustion at attempting to make her marriage to Mr. Peanutbutter work. Todd, on the other hands, seems okay, as he’s come to own his asexuality and embarking on something with fellow asexual Yolanda the axolotl.

Now, on to the trailer! Bojack wakes up in bed in the middle of the night, claps a hand to his forehead, and groans. A clear setting of tone, in that Bojack still doesn’t feel great, and in fact finds it all pretty overwhelming.

Bojack narrates that he’s the star of a new show, a detective series where he plays the title character Philbert. He drives in a car— a red car, not the yellow Tesla —past a tryptich of show posters, featuring him and a dark-complexioned brunette costar. He walks onto set, seemingly already dressed in his costume of gray slacks, gray shirt, dark tie, tan trench pat, and aviator sunglasses. The Rami Malek-voiced writer, Flip McVickers, is waiting on the soundstage with his characteristic crossed arms and hunched posture. Our horse puts on his old front of tryhard bravado— “Hey, everyone, Bojack’s here, ready to shoot!” There is a shot of the opposite side of the set, where Diane and Princess Carolyn are standing with Flip. A girl holds a cue card that amusingly reads “We were doing a routine submarine sting operation.”

A very uncomfortable looking Diane approaches Bojack, sitting on his bed fully dressed in his Philbert costume, holding his phone. She has her hands awkwardly over her belt buckle, she looks like she’s chopped her hair short, and she appears to be biting her lip. She places her hands over her heart and says her first reading of the line that underscores the whole trailer: “You say you want to get better, but you don’t know how.”

Bojack in his robe pulls a bottle from the fridge that is marked with lines and the days of the week— an alcoholic’s desperate tactic to monitor his drinking. He watches the oven clock click over to midnight, allowing him to knock back the next day’s ration. He is next seen draped over his coffee table in his Philbert costume, the living room trashed around him and a different bottle clutched in his hand.

Bojack’s relationship with alcohol has never been healthy, but they’ve kept it pretty much in the “drinks too much” realm and not depicted him with more decisively “alcoholic” behaviors, like hiding booze, or attempting control measures to break his habit. Are they going to start making it clear that he’s definitely over the line?

We go back to the moment with Diane in his bedroom. He’s standing now and says “I’m not someone therapy works on!” he insists, almost bragging. He grins and flips back his forelock, adding, “I might be too smart.” This seems to imply that Diane suggested therapy in response to his being at loss at how to improve. I personally would LOVE to see Bojack get therapy, as I think it would be an interesting way to challenge him given the way he’s been two steps forward, one-to-one-and-three-quarter steps back for four years now.

The closer shot of Diane gives a clearer look at her haircut. I may be reaching, but TV loves to use haircuts to indicate people embarking on new chapters of their lives or identities. I wonder if, given the note she and Mr. Peanutbutter ended on, this is from the two of them taking some time apart— maybe even beginning the process of splitting up. I’d be disappointed to see that, as I liked how unique their relationship was, but I do understand it. There was always some undertones that a lot of her reliance on him was to provide her with a safety net more than any true deep compatibility, but I still kind of hope they work it out somehow.

Cut back to what appears to be the Philbert set again, with Bojack in costume, his costar, and Flip holding a script. He and the costar have frozen yogurt cups in their hands. Bojack attempts to spit off the “balcony,” but it hits the fake balcony view backdrop instead. The city in the backdrop looks ruined, as if the setting is post-apocalyptic. His spitting leaves a pink mark, which evokes the cotton candy he puked off his own balcony in the pilot episode. It makes him look gross and prima donnaish, unable to react appropriately to discomfort.

He and Princess Carolyn walk toward the camera from what appears to be a filming set up in a recreation of Bojack’s own house— the living area is cleared out, but you can see his kitchen off to the side. Flip is there again and Bojack is again in costume, so it’s definitely for Philbert. “Would it kill you to smile?” Princess Carolyn asks him, which amuses me because that’s something usually tossed at women who won’t make the people around them comfortable. At the end of her line, there’s a brief closeup of Bojack reclining on his couch with his arms behind his head, looking distressed by something, followed immediately by the same shot from the very opening, of him facepalming while sitting up in bed.

Bojack and Diane’s hands clink wine glasses together. Wine in glasses tends to read as sophisticated or celebratory, but the two of them drinking together has a history of indicating them enabling each other’s worst qualities. As the line “You say you want to get better, but you don’t know how,” repeats, the next shot is of Diane, with her previous long hair style, tiptoeing out of the living room with what I think is her laptop clutched to her chest. Bojack is passed out sprawled over his armchair, bare-chested with his sweater tied around his neck like a cape, crushed beer cans in his wake. Diane looks sheepish and sad. I notice there is a full glass of wine on the table, like the two of them didn’t finish drinking together. It’s pretty out there, but given that and Diane’s bearing as she creeps out, I almost wonder if she drugged him.

Cut to Bojack in costume again, staring out over his balcony with an intense, almost suspicious look. There are dead palm trees behind him against a gray sky, like it’s winter. Or maybe it's the post-apocalyptic setting in which the Philbert show takes place, using the recreation of his house.

Bojack, still in costume, is in his kitchen with Hollyhock. Yay, Hollyhock is back! She holds two bottles of vodka, and you can see his red rationing marks on the side of them. She looks at them in concern. “Is this like an AA thing?” she asks. “No!” he insists. “I don’t need AA!” The fact that treatment and control is coming up so explicitly suggests to me that Bojack’s habits are escalating to the point of dangerousness, rather than his typical acting out bullshit.

To underscore the idea that alcohol’s presence is going to be pointed, Diane and Bojack’s hands clink what looks like scotch on the rocks together. Cut to Bojack, with a thousand-yard stare, holding that same glass and standing beside a smiling Flip with a party behind them. “This is going to be a sensational season of television,” Flip drawls, in that slow cadence Malek has chosen for him. I wonder if Bojack has just discovered something about his commitment to the new show that has horrified him, and he’s got no way out of it now.

Three women in red synchronized swimmers’ costumes— one human, two goldfish —dive into Bojack’s swimming pool with the Hollywoo sign in the background. An overhead shot shows them pop out of the water and begin a routine.

Cut to Princess Carolyn on the Philbert set with Flip, who stares intensely at a script. “It’s confusing, which means the show is daring and smart,” she says, hands in the air, which makes me think she’s justifying some terrible creative choice. But given that Flip’s the writer, I’m not sure why she’d have to justify it to him. Was creative control taken away from him? Is he agonizing over his own work and she’s trying to get him to relax about it? I’m amused, because I think that’s a pretty spot on satire of how pseudo-prestige TV is often received.

A balloon shaped like Bojack is his Philbert character flies over a red carpet event for the show. Bojack and his costar are photographed. She wears a white gown and he’s in a weird tuxedo that has blue pants for some reason— there’s no stripe, so maybe they’re supposed to be jeans? —and his arm is in a sling. No indication yet of how he injured it. His smile looks pasted on, like he’s stressed out and faking it. The robin and blue jay paps who tried to abortively frame him in the first season are among the photographers, as is a possum hanging upside down from a tree. The “animal visual puns” are some of my favorite parts of the show, so I laughed.

Todd and Yolanda are in a brightly colored, neatly organized bedroom. The decor complements Yolanda’s color scheme, so I wonder if it’s hers. The walls have a framed test with an A+ on it, a seven-day wall calendar covered with writing, and a poster that reads “DARE to FAIL at inadequacy.” Peering at the tiny pictures on the bookshelf, I can see Yolanda in one with a beefeater, a turquoise teddy, and a doll that reminds me of Cynthia from Rugrats. She’s wearing her normal work clothes, he’s in a blue suit with his yellow beanie. She looks pleased with him as he says “I think I can handle this amount of complication—as long as things don’t become one bit more complicated.” Todd is often used to satirize narrative conventions by way of commenting on them verbally.

Mr. Peanutbutter’s first appearance in this trailer is striking— he’s approaching someone with a rifle, even though he’s made a big deal in the past that he doesn’t like guns. Looking closer, however, he’s wearing a black suit with a badge on his belt, so it’s probably for a role. The other person is a seated blond human man with a beard and a furious expression, as light streams in the through the window of the warehouse they’re in. Maybe Mr. Peanutbutter gets a role on Bojack’s show? The dog’s expression is stern until just before it cuts away, and he smiles. I can’t tell if he’s breaking character, or if his character’s demeanor switches.

Princess Carolyn sits on the lap of a fox dressed in a football jersey holding a football. She is dressed very differently, in jeans, a cropped pink sweater with two buttons undone, and slicked-down hair. He’s got his arm around her, she’s giggling and has her hand on his chest, but he looks a little distressed. In the background is a family portrait of foxes, with the suggestion that the young one in the center is the one we’re seeing in person now. They all have weird flat expressionless faces, staring at the camera. I don’t know if this is a flashback to her younger days, or if this is her remaking herself in the present in reaction to everything she’s been through. There is the definite implication that this guy is young though, maybe inappropriately so if this is happening in the present day. Acting out with a young boyfriend maybe?

Shot of Todd sitting at a desk in his blue suit, blowing smoke rings from a pipe. There are double-decker grandfather clocks— as in, with two faces each —flanking him on either side. My guess would be he gets a gig at WhatTimeIsItNow.com, the corporate entity that is producing Bojack’s show.

Diane looks at herself in an ornate mirror wearing what appears to be a traditional Vietnamese outfit, a red floral gown with a conical non la hat. Her body language is closed off, her expression uncomfortable. She is doing something that doesn’t feel right, though I can’t tell what. I wonder is she is actually in Viet Nam, given the décor of her surroundings.

A weird random shot of Bojack looking and acting like a stereotypical Halloween mummy, wrapped in toilet paper bandages— on some of you can see the perforations between the squares —with his arms extended and making groaning sounds. Toilet paper also hangs from the ceiling, and he is backlit by a weird green glow. No idea what that could mean, except it’s probably a subjective shot of somebody misperceiving something that Bojack is doing.

Todd and Emily— Emily’s back? —are in Princess Carolyn’s apartment with what looks to be a homemade robot, cobbled together from household objects. It’s base is a shop vac, it’s got a plunger sticking out like a Dalek, and it holds a whip and a feather. It knocks over a candle onto a pile of something and lights the carpet on fire. Everybody freaks out. Probably some Todd B-plot antics. Upon closer inspection, I note that it has two dildos and a butt plug also attached. So now I’m wondering if it was built to compensate for Todd’s asexuality in some way. Maybe that’s why Emily looks so uncomfortable. Eee.

Bojack and Diane are in a cruddy apartment full of boxes like somebody’s just moved in. There’s a Monet print on the wall and a cooler open on the floor. There are splotches and scratches on the front door. Bojack has a soft drink in his hand. I’d bet any money that Diane and Mr. Peanutbutter have separated, and this is the place that Diane has moved out to. They startle as lights flicker and the Monet tumbles down off the wall.

Bojack and Mr. Peanutbutter are in their cop costumes outside a door marked “Flip.” Writer’s office, probably. Bojack looks tortured to be in the conversation, but Mr. PB is characteristically upbeat. Notable, given that I’m getting the impression his marriage is crumbling. “Look at you, skulking behind doors with a malevolent aura!” Bojack’s probably been caught doing something bad.

Close on costumed Bojack, looking shifty-eyed while squinting, with the apocalyptic soundstage skyline behind him.

Bojack dashes through a metal room with ankle-deep flooding and red lighting; probably THE SUBMARINE STAKEOUT scene being filmed for his show. Turning a corner, the red lighting disappears and he’s in costume with a gun in his hand. He shoots the lock off of an air locked door with a chain on it.

Out on a darkened street, costumed Bojack and Hollyhock watch officer Meow Meow Fuzzyface— with a white T-shirt over his uniform, a giant lollipop, and a hat that reads TEEN —tackle a crayfish-looking dude in front of a red van with bullet holes in it. Is… that in the show? Did Fuzzyface wangle himself a role, and then catch an actual perp while doing it? Or was he an undercover cop pretending to be a teen IN THE PHILERT SHOW? Sometimes Bojack makes deliberately obviously terrible in-universe media for the purposes of satire, but this is hard to parse from this little context. Why is Hollyhock there, in that case? It appears to be real, because it appears a bunch of real cops in cop cars pull up to the scene.

A helicopter floodlamp spotlights Bojack and Hollyhock. We see them take off running, and get trapped by turning down an alley blocked by a chain link fence. What happened? Bojack’s still in costume, but if this is part of the show, while is Hollyhock there in her street clothes? If it’s really happening, what did they do to get chased?

Bojack drives the same red car from earlier down the street. But then, with a camera flash, he’s driving the car on a soundstage with a rolling backdrop. Is this a demonstration of movie magic being contrasted with the behind the scenes process? Or is Bojack having hallucinations, difficulty separating fantasy from reality? Is that why it appeared that he and Hollyhock were pursued by the cops? If so, is that related to his alcohol issues, and why measures to quit drinking so much have become necessary?

Close on Bojack in Diane’s shitty new apartment. “I’m a bad guy.” Flash to head on of Bojack in costume, gasping over a letter with its message in magazine cutouts like a ransom note. YOU DID A BAD THING AND I’M GOING TO TELL. “And the world needs to know,” he finishes in voice over. This is remarkable because I feel like the world kind of already does know? So what is causing this reaction of his badness needing to be public so urgently? Does he do something else bad, something new? Or is it because one of his old sins we the audience knows about is not sufficiently public in-universe— like how he behaved with Penny, for example.

Still in costume, we see him laying on what I think is the floor of his apartment in stark partial lighting. A lizard in a 40’s-style dress walks in and looms over him, leveling a gun, so I think it’s part of whatever they were filming in his house. Again we see that shot from the very beginning, of him sighing and facepalming in bed. He bursts into the soundstage set up in his living room, crashing through the lighting equipment and freaking out the gaffer.

That ottoman that Sarah Lynn burned in the first season is in the background— does he even still have that? Or is that another possible hallucinatory element? The way his real life is blending with the world of the TV show?

In his bathrobe, he gets into a physical altercation with Flip in a dimly lit office that clearly belongs to a writer, with note cards pinned to the walls. Flip seems to be the aggressor. Given Mr. Peanutbutter called him on skulking outside of Flip’s office, Bojack probably broke in. Why? And what would cause Flip to react to that so violently? Is he hiding something? Does he have something Bojack wants? Could he expose whatever bad thing Bojack is doing?

Princess Carolyn asks Bojack in his trailer if he’s holding it together. His costar asks him on set, both of them in their robes, “What’s going on with you?”

In Princess Carolyn’s apartment, she appears as a person made of yarn balls and knitting supplies, while Todd’s head has become a giant hand and he wears a king’s ermine robe over his suit. Even the characters on her move posters are altered, into Yarn on a Hot Tin Roof and When Foggy Met Misty. Definitely a hallucination, but whose? My current money is on Bojack, seeing as I think he’s starting to have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality this season.

Bojack sits in the yellow Tesla with Hollyhock. She asks “Are you going to be okay?” He looks distressed. Cut to him (still in costume) in his home office, staring at his phone, the threatening note taped up on the wall. The Philbert balloon floats outside the window. It seems a really odd thing to advertise a hard-bitten detective series with.

Cut to Mr. Peanutbutter (also I think still in costume) leaping out through the glass of what I believe is Bojack’s bedroom window. Someone is in pursuit, who I think is Bojack, but all you get is a glimpse of his hand and nose. This is again probably part of the show, with PB playing Philbert’s villain or something. But I am starting to wonder if, given that at least in the trailer Bojack never seems to be out of costume, and the recreation of his house as the set, if he’s starting to mentally blend the events of the show with his real life. Maybe Peanutbutter’s not even in the show, and Bojack’s brain has cast him as part of the paranoid fantasy it’s constructed.

That’s kind of out in the weeds, but there’s a lot of subtle offness, even surreality suggested by this trailer. Even the next shot, which seems to be Todd and Bojack in the WhatTimeIsItRightNow.com offices, except they’re turning into a funhouse mirror version of themselves. There are dozens of clocks around, and a standee of Bojack saying “Oopsie!” Then the walls fall away, revealing rows of orange and green popsicles dancing the cancan. Finally he drives his red car down a pink dreamworld street lined with billboards, all containing distorted version of Philbert advertising things. The word “Oopsie!” repeats.

They have frequently done standalone episodes where Bojack’s perceptions are altered, and I guess they could be doing that again, but I’m starting to suspect they’re making it a more pervasive problem for him this time around. Also, the last time I recall Bojack using the word “Oopsie!” was when he described when Charlotte discovered him with Penny in the most disgusting terms possible for Sarah Lynn’s AA group. He made his reaction seem as flippant as possible by describing him as having been like, “Oopsie!” before he took off. Does that mean the “bad thing” he did is indeed referring to the Penny incident? If so, who has found out about it and is reacting with threatening notes?

Again, the clip of him in bed, sighing and facepalming. “You say you want to get better, and you don’t know how,” Diane voices over for the third time on a close of Bojack in his pajamas.

Then the title card—“BOJACK HORSEMAN,” and “SEASON 5 SEPTEMBER 14TH.” The cards are surrounded by what look like pins and red string— used to indicate someone trying to solve a mystery, or that someone has built a Wall of Crazy and is losing it. I think in this case, it’s referring to his acting in a detective show, trying to figure out who has discovered the bad thing he did, and the degradation of his perceptions I believe he’s undergoing, through paranoia, issues with alcohol, or otherwise.

And that’s the trailer! I’m NEVER right about these things, so take all this with a grain of salt. But just for fun, I’m going to put it out here. I think this season is going to see Bojack seriously starting to lose his grip on reality. Probably due to finally slipping into serious alcoholism, but maybe even from the strain of guilt and pursuit by an unknown person. Only a few days until we see how wrong I am!
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I started watching the TNT miniseries The Alienist, a psychological crime drama set just before the turn of the 20th Century. I am enjoying it; it seems to be well written— the dialogue actually manages to capture the diction of that period! —and the production values are beautiful. Though so far I'm thinking it's pretty good, I would say it doesn't exactly feel fresh in the particular lurid sort of focus it has. I am familiar with a LOT of Victorian literature, both that which was written in the time and only set in the time, and it is VERY common, particularly for the modern rearward-looking stuff, to be about the same concepts— sexual hypocracy, the implication that societal repression leads to deviant behavior. I confess it's not my very favorite perspective to take; you'll notice my own Victorian story is about prudes, goody-goodies, and asexuals. But you can't really like this sort of literature without having a tolerance, so I don't really mind.

It's a murder mystery, involving a serial killer, which is definitely up my alley. I like Daniel Bruhl as the lead, the alienist Dr. Kreizler, who has an interesting psychology, though perhaps a slightly too modern level of compassion towards people of alternative lifestyles. I find Luke Evans to be very charismatic in the role— the Victorian bearing and attire suits him —but I don't really understand what's going on with his character. He seems put off by the dark depths of human nature that Kreizler's work makes him stare into, and yet he also pursues investigation of the murders with a zeal that seems at odds with that, so he doesn't totally make sense to me. Dakota Fanning's acting has not particularly impressed me, and her character seems to be a fairly standard forward-thinking girl who is driven by a desire for agency in the world. If I have a real critique, it's that I don't know what they're trying to say with it, unless it's the same thing every other "Victorian underbelly" story has to say.

Generally I subscribe to the belief that ideas are cheap— execution is what really matters. I don't think originality is an inherent virtue, just something that can create interest and innovation to prevent staleness; an old idea, well done, can still be powerful even if it's a different version of something else. However, the key to that is it has to be done right— something interesting, fresh, meaningful, and relevant has to said with it. I'm not sure this has achieved it yet, but I'm only partway through. And frankly I'm enjoying it watching it anyway, so perhaps there's an argument for it right there.
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(That title is very funny if you watch the show. 😁)

…is that THE HORSE HIMSELF IS BASICALLY NOT IN IT. That blows my mind a little. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a central character entirely missing from a season trailer for his own show before.

Herein I am obsessively analyze everything I see in the trailer for the next season of Bojack Horseman (debuting THIS COMING FRIDAY WOOOOOOOOOOO!) I did this with last year’s too and got pretty much everything wrong. Whatever, I enjoy it. But be careful if you’re not caught up, as spoilers be ahead. You can watch the trailer here.

The structure of the trailer is provided by Diane leaving Bojack a voicemail. Apparently she hasn’t heard from him in three months. That the last image we saw of him in season 3 was him driving out into the desert and experiencing strong emotion in response to seeing a herd of “wild” horses— not sure what “wild” means in the context of this anthropomorphic universe, but that was clearly the concept being drawn upon. Bojack has a history of running away and blowing off his life when things get challenging, so there’s a strong chance he’s been doing that for the time he’s been incommunicado. Did he join with that herd he saw? He doesn’t seem the type to want to live a simpler life, given his addiction to the various excesses of his celebrity, but we know from season 2 how living as just a normal person that was part of a nice family made him the happiest he’s been in years. So maybe that was able to be an escape from him.

But, because we see him in basically none of the trailer, we don’t know much of what he’s up to or what he’s doing. In fact, in sharp contrast to the season 3 trailer, we focus entirely on the doings of the important supporting cast.

Diane has a new job at the blog run by Ralph Stilton’s rich little sister, voiced by Kimiko Glen, or Brooke Soso on Orange is the New Black. She compliments Diane on not caring if anyone reads her work, to Diane’s disappointment, which suggests that the blog job is not working out as well as she might have hoped. The offices of the company seem hyper modern and full of “fun” accoutrements, which are visual shorthand for “cool startup.” Diane works at a giant screen in a nonstandard chair that looks too low, which make her seem weirdly helpless.

Mr. Peanutbutter is running for governor of California, and their house is bedecked with campaign things, like a bus with his picture on it and a parody of the Obama HOPE poster. He has an image of a nasty-old-man-looking woodchuck on the wall in a red no symbol reading “Chuck Woodchuck,” so I guess that’s his gubernatorial opponent. Diane kisses him and seems supportive of his ambitions, but I could guess that she’s going to find the demands of campaigning and accompaniments like invasion of privacy very stressful.

Mr. Peanutbutter campaigns on being “specifically on the side of the fact and… also feelings,” which makes a reporter comically throw up his hands and declare himself satisfied with no questions. I can’t imagine that they won’t use this storyline to comment on the horror that was this most recent presidential election, especially since as Mr. Peanutbutter is basically a know-nothing celebrity who lacks governmental experience, he opens some interesting avenues for parallels and critique. I wonder what angle they’ll take, since he’s basically a decent guy even if he doesn’t seem remotely qualified. That’s a heavy, sad topic, but this show is never afraid to go dark. At a rally where everyone cheers for him, Diane looks down in distress at her phone. Is she reacting to something on the phone, or to the crowd’s reaction to her husband?

Princess Carolyn muses about how she’s always wanted a family, which we knew all the way from the first season when she complained that Bojack didn’t respect her enough to have a baby with her. Then it cuts to her lovely boyfriend Ralph Stilton asking, “Would you, could you, with a mouse?” as he takes her hand in a fancy restaurant. It’s suggesting a proposal, but we don’t actually hear the question get popped. Her reaction of “Wow,” is a slightly odd response if it was a proposal of marriage. I like Ralph though, so I’m kind of hoping they tie the knot. I note with that “Green Eggs and Ham” cadence that they like to do references to children’s literature with mice in it in Ralph’s dialogue, such as “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” last season.

Todd is still crashing on Bojack’s couch, at least at one point, because Diane commends that she hasn’t seen him in a while. The next shot is, hilariously, of him walking on a runway at a fashion show for “Sharc Jacobs” (this is the first point the trailer made me laugh out loud.) As we later see some chick in a hip bar basically wearing his outfit, I bet you a thousand bucks he wandered unwittingly onto that runway in the middle of the show, and then the world thinks what he was wearing was part of the new collection, so everybody immediately starts copying it.

He also seems to be hovering by a Rube Goldberg machine with a pink lizard looking person. No idea there. He skis down a hill and steals a giant bag of popcorn while hanging off a drone. No idea there either. He’s Todd. He’ll have a bunch of weird adventures that will end with a gut twist by the end of the season, because that’s what he always does.

In Diane’s message she echoes Bojack, with “This is Diane Nguyen, by the way. Obviously.” This strikes me because it’s the same way he ended his voicemail to her when he confessed he was in love with her. They do on occasion draw parallels between the two of them to explain their bond, but that one gives me pause, as I really hope they’re not going to have her develop romantic feelings for him. That would not make me happy. I could, however, see the show have her turn to him for validation in a low moment, which he would be too weak not to take advantage of, and have it fuck things up. The show goes to places like that, and while I’d buy it, I care about the characters too much for that to happen to them. I want better than them for that, and again, they’ve never been afraid to blow relationships up and let them stay that way.

Diane narrates further. “It’s funny. Last time I saw you, you told me you needed me in your life. And then you just disappeared. Anyway, things are even crazier around here lately.”

We see a yellow convertible driving along the desert, which is presumably where Bojack is, given where we last saw him. We don’t see the car’s driver, but it’s definitely implied that it’s Bojack.

Diane wakes up in bed alone, with only Mr. Peanutbutter’s sunglasses in his place. Mr. Peanutbutter appears to be somewhere snowy, wearing a ski suit I think. So he’s traveling and far away from her, a reversal of when she went to Cordovia.

A shadowy figure in a Vincent Adultman-style fedora and trench coat appears, and it turns out to be that horse girl we saw trying to get in touch with Bojack through his agency at the end of last season. Todd initially freaks out when she approaches him, and she says, “Ever since I was a baby, people said I looked like Bojack Horseman.” She even points to a picture of baby Bojack in his signature sailor suit. To which Todd replies with the line that caused my second big laugh of the trailer, “That’s a terrible thing to say to a baby!”

It was pretty heavily foreshadowed last season that Bojack might have a child he never knew about. The most obvious was the fact that this horse girl was trying to get in touch with him, and she was described by Judah as “sounding like a teenaged girl.” The other suggestions that this might happen were more oblique. Thematically, one might say his taking responsibility for the seahorse baby last season was sort of an indicator that he might have it in him to be somebody’s parent. More literally and less literarily, when he hears Diane is planning on having an abortion he comments on how many abortions he paid for in his time, ending with, “Gee, I hope those women didn’t lie and actually just kept— my money.”

The joke at the end is a distraction for the possibility that what they actually kept is the baby. The timeline I suppose makes sense, as this likely would have happened during his stardom in the 90’s, and a child born at some point in there could conceivably still be a teenager. She has an odd voice, one I don’t recognize, honestly that doesn’t sound particularly teenaged to me. I’ll have to look the actress up, but I held off for fear of spoiling myself.

As a side note, in the alums beside baby Bojack is a very handsome vintage-y looking picture of two horses in sepia tone and fancy old-timey outfits. I like the picture very much.

Princess Carolyn tells Todd, “The world is dark and scary and full of creepy clown dentists.” We see the two of them surrounded by what appear to be wasps, him in a towel and her in an evening dress, and there’s even a shot of a boy being worked on by the aforementioned creepy clown dentists. For what purpose, I know not, but one of the clowns is a platypus in clown makeup wearing a pretty dress carrying a hockey stick. So that’s fun. She continues, “But you gotta push through and hope there’s better stuff ahead.” We see her walk out of an elevator with Judah, which implies they’re working together again, and Ralph come up and kiss her as they’re both wearing bathrobes.

We get a bunch of shots in quick succession as Diane intones, “I’m sure you’d say, “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”” Diane stands between a blonde lady and the badger upon whom she pulls a gun from her purse. Mr. Peanutbutter has meets with his woodchuck rival, who bangs furiously on his desk. Diane furiously hurls her giant computer screen to the ground. And then, one of the most shocking shots in the whole trailer— a growling Mr. Peanutbutter holds an angry Diane by her wrists and shoves her against a wall.

Now what is THAT supposed to be? I know trailers can’t always be taken at face value every moment because they pull moments out of context to create interest. But it looks like an act of aggression, which given that they’re married has some rather horrifying implications. Are they going down an actual spousal violence route here? That’s heavy, and rather shocking for these two characters whose relationship has been presented as occasionally troubled but overall mostly loving and supportive. For the record, Diane does not look scared, she looks like she’s fighting back, so it may not be totally straightforward.

But Bojack does NOT do the “haha, isn’t it funny how terrible these people are” thing and leave it with no consequences. Maybe with a peripheral character, but never the leads. They would not show an incident of spousal violence without it having IMPACT. Like, it would be a storyline and they would deal with it. Again, I would find that a shocking direction for these two characters. And again, context may matter and give it a different vibe. For all I know, it’s bait for the BDSM furries in the audience— of which I am sorry to report I know the show has a fan base.

Princess Carolyn and the horse girl both say, “Where have you been?” to an unseen person, who I’m betting on is Bojack. That’s a pretty basic guess, but they went out of their way to keep him out of the trailer, so it may not be intended to be misleading.

Lenny Turtletaub asks if the world’s gone mad in his office. He has great film posters— “Glockerspaniel,” “Americanine Shooter,” and “Bulletproof Principal.” I confess I don’t get the joke of the last one, but it’s of a Great Dane with a gun in a bulletproof vest.

Mr. Peanutbutter and Pinky Penguin are at a black-tie party where a guy in a tuxedo is on fire, which is the mark of a good one.

Todd plays the triangle with an orchestra. We get a quick shot of Rutabega Rabbitowitz, to which I cheered because I love that smart Jean-Ralphio, amid a bunch of white roses with red edges. Makes me wonder if it’s an Alice in Wonderland reference, though he’s a black and white rabbit with red eyes like Bunnicula.

A mouse boy dances on a table in a grand house surrounded by other mice, so I guess we’re going to get to meet the Stilton family. They’re all wearing what look like cat ears and carrying torches, to which Princess Carolyn looks on angrily, so I think we’re going to get a clash of ethnicity or religion storyline as they contemplate getting married. Given how often cats have been used to represent Nazis and mice their Jewish victims, that’s an interesting possible reversal. OH, or maybe she’s like the white person who doesn’t understand racial minorities distrust of white people? Hm, but I doubt a show like this would involve torches in that case and make it look unreasonable. They’re usually pretty good about that sort of thing.

Princess Carolyn gets smashed at a party where one of the clown dentists hovers over a passed-out boy with a handsaw. Todd carries in jugs of mouthwash, which suggests this is not an upscale party. Actually I think it’s supposed to be at Princess Carolyn’s apartment. She may be dealing with the revelation that her boyfriend is prejudiced in some way. That would make me sad, as I like the character of Ralph.

A row of beetles dressed like Ancient Egyptians twerk. That’s… cool.

Brief flashback to what appears to be a scene from Mr. Peanutbutter’s old show, “Mr. Peanutbutter’s House,” with what I guess is a celebrity guest star.

Office Meow Meow Fuzzyface, another character I love, stops Carolyn and Ralph in traffic but appears to startle at the sight of them, then pulls a gun. Again, racial issues to be explored?

A child’s foot in pink slippers reaches down toward a gas pedal in a car, only for an adult foot in a green wedge sandal press down on the pedal alongside it. It is juxtaposed with a shot of Mr. Peanutbutter backing a tiny child’s toy-looking car through the wall of a hospital room. Shockingly, the patient appears to be his woodchuck rival, who has bandages on his wrists and what appear to be lobster claws where his hands should be— and a balloon that reads “Get Hands Soon.” I guess… that’s a thing? I cannot wait to see what happens there, as this show's trademark is to juxtapose the truly absurd with the deeply emotional.

Beatrice Horseman, Bojack’s mother, in her present aged state (as in, it’s not a flashback like when she usually appears) stares out a window, hands pressed to the glass and eyes wide in horror. There are many photographs taped to the window from the inside and we only see a faint outline of them through the back. In my headcanon his dad Butterscotch is already dead, but I wonder if this will resolve it one way or the other.

Diane narrates over all this. “THEN you would be so overwhelmed by the sheer ludicrousness of the situation that you would get in your car and drive to Hawaii!”

Finally, we see our only glimpse of Bojack— from behind, in the driver’s seat of the yellow convertible we saw driving through the desert. He pulls up to a little cabin which may be the same one in the picture Charlotte sent him from the brief period she lived in main thirty years ago. The one where he once fantasized about having a whole normal life, married to Charlotte, raising a little girl named Harper.

“Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy,” Diane finishes over this. “I really do, Bojack.” But once she’s done, a digitized version of Amy Sedaris’s voice says, “The mailbox is full. Goodbye.” So Bojack doesn’t even get the message.

Wow. I am excited. I miss the dulcet gravel tones of Will Arnet, but I am quite intrigued that they didn’t even show the series lead. Makes me think that there’s a TON of plot packed into this, as we have no idea what the main character is doing on top of all the rest they’ve teased.

ONLY SIX MORE DAYS.
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I watched the new Ryan Murphy series, Feud: Bette and Joan, even though I have extremely mixed feelings about his work. I think he's often a capable writer and certainly very creative, but I tend to think he sets things up well and lacks follow-through on the good idea. Also I occasionally find him not to write female characters so much as drag performances, caricatures of women rather than human beings. But Tom and Lorenzo recommended it and they have excellent taste, so I wanted to give it a try.

It's well-made production, focusing on the late-life rivalry between actresses Joan Crawford and Bette Davis, with mostly a solid script and excellent acting performances all around. It's still an odd blend, at TLo pointed out, of camp and pop feminism, as well as kind of padded and stylized to shape the relationship between Bette and Joan in such a way to serve the story. But what I found most fascinating were the ideas behind it. The most interesting foundational notions are two-fold. The first is that it's about the struggles of female aging, how even successful women are in danger of being cast aside when they start to get old. And the second is the framing of the rivalry between the women: that they aggravated each other's insecurities because Joan was cast as a beautiful woman who was never talented enough, and Bette was a talented woman who was never beautiful enough.

If you know even a little bit about me, you can guess that I find that fascinating. Firstly aging is probably my greatest fear for specifically that reason, that the world no longer takes an older woman seriously and views them with varying levels of pity, horror, and contempt. And I also love the examination of the dichotomy of pretty versus talented, particularly how they are constantly pitted against each other for the thing that they each have that the other one lacks. Bette can be the best artist at her craft in the world, but she still has a big gaping lack in the fact that she's not pretty and never has been. And Joan is automatically run down by the stigma that she only got by on her looks, and now that they've faded, she's got nothing. And I really loved the scene where they asked each other what it was like, to be "the [prettiest]/[most talented] girl in the world" and they each said it was the best thing ever, and it was never enough.

That I personally have felt the tension between the two very keenly, that I have to do everything I can to demonstrate the most of both. I often feel plagued that by the notion that even if I do a great job of one, it will get discounted because I haven't done enough to show the other. And then when I split my focus too much, I worry I'm coming off as mediocre in both respects. I know that to a large extent it's just a sick perception, and a target too utterly unrealistic to hit-- I want to be the PRETTIEST, MOST TALENTED GIRL IN THE WORLD apparently! --but that moment where they expressed it was the best thing ever AND STILL you never feel like it's enough was very resonant for me. I don't know if it's a truly accurate representation of Crawford and Davis, but as a conceit for drama, it really impacted me.
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On a recent rewatch of Bojack Horseman season 3-- I taught Bojack in my class recently, which always inspires a rewatch --it jumped out at me how much they emphasize how influenced Bojack is by the opinions of others. Basically, any time somebody tells him what they think about something he's doing, he immediately changes course in deference to that opinion. It was an immediate, obvious response, and it happened again and again across the season.

At first I thought that might be something they were presenting a recent development for Bojack as a character, but they made a point of including it even in the flashbacks to 2007. So that made me want to go back and look at earlier episodes to see if this was something as present before season 3. After looking, the answer I'd give is it's definitely always been a minor part of the character, but not nearly as strong, obvious a trait that it becomes in season 3.

It's something that makes sense for somebody as depressed and self-hating as Bojack, that he's dependent on what other people think of him and his actions for any sort of direction or confidence. But I do wonder what they were trying to suggest by giving it so much emphasis this season. I'd guess that they were suggesting a deterioration of ego, that he was growing less secure, but as I mentioned, they included it in the 2007 flashbacks too. My best supposition then is that they were not saying this is a NEW thing for Bojack, but that they were trying to DRAW MORE ATTENTION to this facet of him.

So then what does that say? That in his desperation for connection, another thing made much of in season three, makes him especially malleable to win the approval of others? I kind of like that. Or is it literally an ego deterioration-- that something about his sense of self, or at least faith in his own judgment or perceptions, has degraded? That's actually a scary proposition, that could have some pretty dire implications. I wonder if more of it will be made in season 4, as it was never really dealt with-- in fact, the season closed out with Bojack having a freakout due to sudden outside input on something he was doing.
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I found out yesterday that one of my favorite contestants on RuPaul's Drag Race, Katya Zamolodchikova, is going to be in town as part of Miss Fame's, another RPDR queen, Painted by Fame tour, where she gives makeup technique demonstrations in a seminar setting. I really like Miss Fame's work, which I actually discovered on Youtube before I ever started watching the show. Miss Fame alone probably wouldn't have won me over, but the chance to learn from her skills and meet Katya was enough to get me to spend the money.

I think it will be interesting and fun. I've been trying to develop my ability with makeup, so I could learn a lot of what I'm trying for. Plus I'd love to meet Katya, who is such a creative, talented, interesting person! But the ticket was very expensive for me, much, much more than I've paid to attend anything in many years, and I'm starting to feel guilty about it. I bought it basically on impulse, and I do really want to attend it, but I'm afraid it wasn't a great idea.

Financially I'm doing better these days, thanks to getting more classes at a higher step rate due to my experience. But I worry it's allowed my usual careful budgeting to slip too much. I should be saving for the Mrs. Hawking plays, which will require some new properties due to putting on part three for the first time. If nothing else, saving money is a good idea for me always, because though I'm making more, I'm still not making much.

But I also have been thinking more about how I need to be doing things that I enjoy, if nothing else than to get myself in a less depression-inclined frame of mind. They say spending on experiences is way more satisfying in the long run than just buying stuff, even though stuff superficially "lasts" longer. I mean, the money is spent, the deed is done, I have to get over it one way or another. Maybe I shouldn't do it again in the future, but I should at this point just be thinking of it as an investment in feeling good.
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I've been watching Westworld on HBO, and I intend to watch it through to the end, but I'm not very satisfied with it. I mean, besides the fact that I've always had a huge mental block against sympathizing with robots as characters, as I still basically think they're always going to just be things, it's not that fresh a robots-as-people narrative. Basically, they're gaining sentience as their programming advances, and they're probably going to make humans pay for the horrific treatment they've undergone when utilized as things. I am absolutely sure that will happen if AI ever gets advanced enough in the real world, and we've seen it in stories a million times before.

But the thing that gets at me the most is the logic behind the Westworld park itself. It's appeal is basically presented as a place to indulge your darkest urges free of consequences-- specifically, they assume, things that take the form of hurting others. The park is full of robots, not people, so you can hurt or use them in any way you want and it doesn't matter. And that's basically the reason why people like to come.

Well. Even leaving aside what a morbidly cynical view of humanity is-- I don't even think that's all that representative of the way people's badness manifests. Personal I'd say most of the worst of us manifests not as sadism-- the desire to cause or the enjoyment of suffering in others --but rather as selfishness. It's not so much that you WANT other people to hurt, it's that you care so much about yourself and your own gratification that the harm you do to others doesn't matter to you. Sure, causing pain often gives us power over others, which is another thing we're all susceptible to, but again, I'd argue that you want the feeling of being powerful so much that you don't worry about causing pain. True psychopaths, who LIKE causing pain in and of itself, exist, but they're much rarer. Faced with no consequences for our actions, that morbid indifference to the feelings of others in favor of indulging the self is the true danger that is likely to come out of us.

I mean, I can imagine if I were in a scenario like this-- leaving aside the other problems with the workings of Westworld, which are beside my point here --I might have fun being the best shot in the West and beating a horde of rampaging gunslingers by being the fastest draw. That appeals to my sense of adventure and excitement, plus the thrill of being the best. I could see conceivably being so selfish that I care so about my enjoyment in that way I don't care that I subjected a bunch of people to painful death. But it adds nothing to that appeal to see the men I beat twitching and gasping in pain as they die from the bullets I put in them. I could see prioritizing my sense of fun such that I didn't care that I killed them. But having to witness their suffering is distasteful, such that the imposition of their pain is a consequence that would make my victory less fun. I think it would be to most people.

But even beyond that-- the version of the "dark urges" the park is designed to caters to? Is this totally one-note, stereotypically masculine conception. Basically, the form of indulgences it expects its guests to want are all extremely retrograde masculine fantasies, mostly sexual, violent, or a combination of the two. Sure, given how toxic they expect people to want to behave, you'd expect them to appeal to people's toxic masculinity, but there's no appeals to any impulse that are not coded masculine. It's all just about the chances for brutal violence or increasingly outre sexuality.

I can't figure out if it's intentional or not. Is it as a statement of how prevalent such fantasies are in people, or even how hypermasculinity encourages it? Or is it because the SHOW can't imagine dark impulses under any other encoding?

If it's intentional, there has yet to be any explicit acknowledgment that Westworld is designed under that assumption. I've seen no commentary on the problem of that conception. There's been no connection of the horrors being committed to the idea that they rise from hypermasculinty-- in fact, the only suggestion the show gives is that it comes from HUMANITY in general, rather than specifically from males. And I don't think depicting an idea without any form of critique, in so many words or otherwise, counts as commentary.

On top of that, most of the women characters in the show have been portrayed in really limited ways. The only female guests tend to be either wives supporting the adventures of their husbands, or else having identical dark urges to straight men. (There's been some portrayal of lesbianism, but it all smacks of "chicks that act like straight guys" rather than women attracted to other women. By contrast, the one bisexual dude's orgy? A woman riding his dick, another woman making out with him, while the one other guy... rubs his belly. Cowards.) The women host robots fall into a pretty stark virgin-whore dichotomy. Again, if there was some suggestion of critique of this, that women suffer even more when people act like objectification is just okay, then I might see it as a meaningful choice. But again, I've seen no sign of this.

So it's increasingly striking me as unintentional, which is both a staggeringly limited view of humanity-- even humanity's darkness --and also misogynist. I mean, why do women come to Westworld in this universe? Just to support their husbands' hero hypermasculine-coded hero fantasies, or if they want to indulge in THOSE EXACT SAME HYPERMASCULINE FANTASIES themselves? Is there nothing here to enjoy that's actually geared toward the interests of women-- or even the ways women specifically tend to break down? If nothing else, where are the hot male whores throwing themselves at female guests?

I'm only three episodes in. Maybe they'll deal with it. But I don't think it's been handled well so far.
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I really enjoyed Luke Cage and thought it was awesome. I have a handful of criticisms, nothing major— except one thing was pretty glaring to me.

In episode 10 “Take it Personal,” I did not like how they made Mariah’s crusade against Luke Cage look like a successful attempt to co-opt a movement like Black Lives Matter. Her bending people’s real lives and feelings to her own ends is appropriate for her character arc, but I don’t think the way she did it scans. They showed Mariah appealing to people who were sympathetic to a pro-black safety movement, thereby invoking the suggestion of BLM. But BLM is a movement to demilitarize the police, while Mariah was calling to arm them with experimental weaponry. And instead of facing down the social structures that systematically devalue and destroy black lives, she was attempting to take down one man, and a black man at that, who had been shown to stand up for average people and was mostly cast as a threat by an attack on cops. There is no equivalence there, so to show her efforts taking in those people suggests that the people in pro-black safety movements are easily swayed by incorrect rhetoric and corrupt leaders. I don’t think they intended that, but I find it an offensive implication.

What I would have done was had Mariah increasingly side with the system to take him down, even at the expense of the people of Harlem she used to champion. Have her use the rhetoric of “law and order” and respectability politics, saying how a dangerous person like Luke Cage damages the reputation of the black community, appealing to the fear of white people of scary powerful black men to get institutions on her side to take him down. She’s on a path to darkness anyway, so to have her go from a champion of black culture to joining with the corrupt system that harms black people in order to serve her own heads would show a nice thematic following. I think that would have been a way more effective way to show her growing corruption than to draw any kind of equivalence between the rhetoric she uses to persecute Luke and the efforts of Black Lives Matter.

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