Hunt for the Wilderpeople: Kiwi Capers

Do you know what people don't see enough of in the movie theatre? Kiwis. And I don't mean the fruit or the bird - I mean the people of New Zealand. Their country is gorgeous and has been showcased to great effect in the Lord of the Rings movies, but stories about the people who actually live there rarely come to my attention. Thankfully, remedying that gap is Taika Waititi's spectacular Hunt for the Wilderpeople, a movie that is currently available on demand and should be watched by everyone immediately.

The movie starts off simply enough. Ricky Baker (Julian Dennison) is a foster kid who has caused no end of trouble. He has been shuffled around from family to family and is almost on his way to juvenile detention when he arrives at the farm of "Aunt" Bella (Rima Te Wiata). Bella is every foster child's fantasy - a loving, warm, and abundantly forgiving woman who knows exactly how to take care of the wary Ricky and get him to trust in human beings again. Her husband, Hec (Sam Neill), is decidedly not a fantasy foster parent - he is a gruff man of little words, and he mostly keeps out of Ricky's way. However, he loves Bella and if she wants to take in a foster kid, he is not going to object. In fact, she took him into her heart when he was a bit of a lost soul, so he certainly understands what Bella can do for someone in need of some love and attention.

Unfortunately, within the first twenty minutes of the movie, Bella dies. And while that is terrifically sad, what follows is a brilliant buddy comedy of sorts, as Ricky and Hec end up camping and trekking in the wilds of New Zealand while they attempt to evade capture from the local authorities. I won't go into how exactly they find themselves in that situation, but suffice to say, there's nothing more heartwarming and hilarious than watching a young Maori kid and a gruff older white man work together and slowly become friends, and finally, family.

Write-director Taika Waititi is clearly a filmmaker to watch. The entire aesthetic of this movie is reminiscent of a Wes Anderson film; it is beautifully shot (to be fair, any tale set in the wilds of New Zealand is beautiful by default) and divided into discrete chapters that are paced perfectly. The script is brimming with amusing asides and absurd meta jokes that keep the audience entertained for every second. It manages to be sweet without being overly sentimental, and funny without devolving into a farce. As over-the-top as its plot and characters are, it is grounded in the simple premise that everyone is just looking for someone to alleviate their loneliness, and sometimes you must go to extraordinary lengths to find a place where you belong. This movie made me want to seek out more stories by and about New Zealanders (first stop will be the book this movie is based on), but while I do that, I exhort you to watch Hunt for the Wilderpeople and see what you've been missing.

Florence Foster Jenkins: It Ain't Over Till She Sings

Florence Foster Jenkins is a crowd-pleasing biopic that is filled with excellent performances and delivers plenty of laughs. It is also the reason I went to the Met Opera last week to see The Magic Flute - I needed to hear what the Queen of the Night's aria is supposed to sound like when it isn't being butchered by Meryl Streep.

Set in 1944 New York, Streep stars as the eponymous Jenkins, a fabulously wealthy woman who loves to sing but is terrible at doing so. Hugh Grant plays St. Clair Bayfield, her loving husband who indulges her every whim and doesn't have the heart to tell his dear Florence that she can't sing worth a damn. As a result, when she decides to entertain the masses with a musicale, he must spend weeks bribing journalists and organizing a massive parade of toadies who will listen to Florence's warbling with nary a word except to praise her rapturously and demand encores. He hires Cosme McMoon (Simon Helberg), a very serious and ambitious pianist, to be her accompanist, and the first time Cosme hears Florence sing, his consternation is wondrous to behold. However, St. Clair convinces Cosme to stay, and what follows is a hilarious and moving partnership.

I don't think I need to sell anyone on this film. It stars Meryl Streep, which is an automatic guarantee of its quality, and she is unsurprisingly phenomenal in it. We all know she can sing, so what is truly extraordinary is how terribly she sings throughout this film. Yet Florence is such a lovable lady and has such a tragic backstory that you cannot help but treat her like all her closest friends - you want her to succeed and be protected from the truth, because she genuinely seems like she has a heart of gold. Hugh Grant walks quite the tightrope in this film, playing a supportive, besotted husband, who still has a lady on the side; it is credit to his dapper British charm that at no point do you find yourself remotely troubled by his actions. However, the true surprise to me was Simon Helberg, who manages to steal almost every scene he's in and holds his own against Streep and Grant. His character is very quiet, but the expressions on his face scream louder than any dialogue, and he brings the comedy to the forefront.

Florence Foster Jenkins is an amuse-bouche of a film. It is light and airy, and while it isn't frightfully sustaining on its own, it contains enough effervescent charm to make you glad you saw it. The performances are striking, the pace is just right, and the story is refreshingly novel. If you're slogging through drearier awards show fare, take a break with this film and watch how director Stephen Frears has skilfully put together all the right elements to concoct the perfect pick-me-up.

Captain Fantastic: A Fabulous Family

Captain Fantastic is a movie I put off watching for a while because I foolishly expected it to be weird or sad. However, having finally seen it, I discovered a movie that is funny, charming, and moving. Definitely still weird, but thoroughly entertaining.

The film stars Viggo Mortensen as Ben Cash, a man who is raising his six children in the wilderness of the Pacific Northwest. In the opening scenes of the movie, it seems like these people might be living in some sort of Lord of the Flies-esque manner, but you quickly discover that these might be the most erudite bunch of savages you've ever met. Ben homeschools the children and they are well versed in quantum entanglement and Victorian literature, with the youngest child able to converse intelligently on topics that would stump a college student. If you're wondering where their mother is: her fate will drive the rest of this movie. She has been away for three months due to an ongoing battle with mental illness, and when she finally loses that battle, this unconventional family sets off on a journey into the real world to attend her funeral. Yes, it's a sad premise, but believe me, there's plenty to make you smile as they make their way.

Mortensen anchors the film with a powerful performance that captures all the nuances of this character. He has the difficult task of making the audience empathize with a man who could seem almost too cruel in the treatment of his children (in fact he is accused of abusing them with the unconventional lifestyle that he and his wife have adopted toward child-rearing). However, at no point do you falter in your belief that this is a man who loves his children, and while he might be the most liberal hippie you've ever seen on screen, he never teeters into complete caricature. This is most apparent when he has to deal with other adults (the supporting cast includes such stalwarts as Frank Langella, Margo Martindale, and Kathyrn Hahn), who are people he respectfully disagrees with whilst exhibiting no condescension. There are a few moments when he becomes a crazed loon, but those are generally moments when he is broken down by grief  and you cannot fault him for it.

However, the true stars of this movie are the children. Every single child actor in this movie delivers a spectacular performance, charming the audience with their peculiar blend of innocence and intelligence. They make it clear that no matter how bizarre this family is, they feel loved and supported by one another and share a tight bond that will last them through any tragedy. George MacKay, who plays the eldest son, is a particularly fine actor who is certain to go on to many more great projects. He holds his own against Mortensen and delivers a brilliant performance that captures the true dilemma that these children face - they know everything there is to know from books, but absolutely nothing about how to live in the real world.

Written and directed by Matt Scott, Captain Fantastic is a marvelous flight of fancy, an examination of that secret desire we all have to just run away into the woods and live life on our own terms. It's a nice wish, but the movie unveils how the fantasy can't measure up to reality and at the end of the day, we're all just doing our best to get by. It's a funny and moving family drama and while you may not be a part of this family, you'll be grateful you get to at least spend two hours with them. 

Dangal: Bollywood at Its Best

2016 has been a heinous year but at least it is ending with an Aamir Khan movie. And what a movie. Much like Lagaan, Dangal is a sports movie that transcends the genre, making you laugh, cry, and cheer for a blissful two and half hours. This is cinematic entertainment at its finest, conveying humor, warmth, and a message that is hammered home without being too preachy. It's a feat worthy of a gold medal.

The movie tells the true-life story of Mahavir Singh Phogat (played by Aamir Khan) and his two daughters Geeta and Babita (played by Zaira Wasim and Suhani Bhatnagar as children, and Fatima Sana Shaikh and Sanya Malhotra as adults). Mahavir was a wrestler with ambitions of winning a gold in international competition, but given the general lack of infrastructure and support for such ambitions, he was forced to abandon his dreams and get a job instead. He decides he will have a son who will win the gold medal he could not get himself, at which point his wife proceeds to give birth to four daughters in rapid succession. Mahavir puts aside his dreams, but one day, when an irate woman appears on his doorstep to complain that his two eldest daughters, Geeta and Babita, have mercilessly beat her sons to a pulp, it dawns on Mahavir that a gold is a gold regardless of the gender of the child who wins it. And from there we launch into a surprisingly feminist tale that is all the more remarkable for its being a true story.

The soundtrack by Pritam, with gleefully irreverent and funny lyrics by Amitabh Bhattacharya, is the perfect accompaniment to this film. The title track is one of those rousing numbers that make it impossible not to pump your fist and each song is calculated to make you cheer for Geeta and Babita as they go around wrestling men and women to the ground. The moral of the story is pretty typical Indian fare - don't treat your daughters as housewives who are incapable of anything more than getting married and having children. It's sad that this still needs to be said in 2016, but at least it's being said in a more spirited and enthusiastic fashion than any other Bollywood movie I've seen to date. There are also plenty of digs at India's unimpressive Olympic and international sports record, highlighting the corruption and bureaucracy that ensure a country of more than a billion people can still find it so impossible to win a gold medal every four years. Like with every Aamir Khan film, I imagine there will be some kind of public outcry and India will win twenty gold medals at the next international sporting event. But more importantly, I hope there will be many girls who are inspired to cut their hair, slap on some shorts (oh the horror of bared legs!), and go out into the world with the confidence that their purpose is not restricted to household chores.

Dangal is a glorious movie, one that manages to educate and entertain in equal measure without being sanctimonious. Thanks to co-writer and director Nitesh Tiwari, it also moves at a brisk pace and is incredibly funny, full of situations and one-liners that keep the tone light and breezy. Special mention must also be given to Kripa Shankar Bishnoi, the coach who trained the actors for the wrestling sequences that pepper the entire film - I was spellbound for every expertly choreographed match, despite knowing nothing about wrestling when I went into the theatre. If you've never seen a Bollywood movie before, this is probably an excellent way to start. You won't be bored for an instant, and you'll learn a lot about wrestling, traditional Indian culture, and the modern women (and supportive fathers) who are demolishing those traditions in the best possible way. 

La La Land: A Magical Musical

I saw La La Land on Tuesday and four days later, I find that I am still unable to stop singing "City of Stars". Much like that song, this movie will burrow its way into your brain and stay there for a long time. And like many great movies, the reasons to love it are varied, mysterious, and somewhat indescribable. But let's try to describe them anyway.

The movie stars Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling as Mia and Sebastian, two people who have come to Los Angeles to achieve their dreams. Mia is an actress, but since she can't actually land a job, she's a barista in a coffee shop on the Warner Brothers lot. Sebastian is a jazz pianist who desperately wants to open his own club but instead is forced to play tepid "elevator music" in restaurants for tips. The two meet, do not fall in love, then meet again, and the romance blossoms in spectacular Hollywood fashion. While the movie is set in the present day, it is a throwback to 50s musicals from the Golden Age of Hollywood, and is packed with references and musical numbers that bring to mind Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, and more.

Despite the nostalgia it evokes, this is still a 2016 movie, which means that it does not traffic solely in providing light entertainment. It is an aesthetic marvel, from each of Emma Stone's sumptuous outfits, to the twinkly sets, to the fantastical sequences that depict the lovers falling in love; but it is also extremely bittersweet and calculated to elicit a tear as much as a smile. In spite of the singing and dancing, it takes a frank look at the difference between falling in love and then building a life together. We get to see the progression of Mia and Sebastian's relationship and the realization of their ambitions, and the movie's epilogue is a sweeping musical odyssey that showcases everything that is sad and beautiful about their tale.

The music by Justin Hurwitz and lyrics by Pasek and Paul are alternately romantic, fun, haunting, and goosebump-inducing. Gosling and Stone are not the world's greatest singers and dancers, and while they gamely attempt the songs and choreography, they lack the panache and confidence I expect from an Astaire and Rogers musical. But they make up for that with sheer charm and star power. They have the most wonderfully expressive faces, a fact that the director latches on to with multiple close-up shots that allow you to marvel at what these two people are able to do with a single glance. There's a spellbindingly tactile moment when their hands touch that makes your fingers tingle and reminds you of the power of cinema to transport you into another realm. Stone, in particular, has eyes that seem to grab my soul and turn it inside out, while Gosling's smile and saunter are the swoon-worthy stuff dreams are made of.

La La Land is a dreamy blend of fantasy and real life that makes one wish we spent more time randomly breaking into song in our cars than flipping each other off on the freeway (both things that happen at the beginning of the movie, thereby highlighting the cruel intersection of whimsy and reality). Writer-director Damien Chazelle has managed to make yet another wondrous movie, and much like Whiplash, he ties everything together with a resoundingly emphatic ending that will uplift and destroy you all in one go. La La Land is not exactly the movie I was expecting to see when I walked into the theatre, but I haven't managed to forget it since I walked out. 

American Housewife: Hysterical Insights

If you want to end 2016 with a laugh, you must pick up a copy of American Housewife: Stories by Helen Ellis. This bizarre collection of short stories about housewives across the country will make your brain explode with delight. Like a cross between George Saunders and David Sedaris, except if both were bored housewives living out insane fantasies, Helen Ellis unveils the twisted inner workings of the most overlooked branch of the populace and ensures you will never talk to a housewife ever again without experiencing mild terror.

I was hooked after reading the first two pages of this book. Opening with a short essay entitled, "What I Do All Day," Ellis gives us such gems as, "Back home, I get a sickening feeling and find out it's just my husband's coat hung the wrong way in a closet. I break into a sweat when I find a Sharpie cap but not the pen." These mundane observations keep accumulating until every sentence elicits a chuckle and a sense of wonderment at this woman's ability to string words together in effervescent combinations. This is followed by "The Wainscoting War," an epistolary tale narrated via the e-mails exchanged by two feuding neighbors that quickly escalates into an epic battle akin to something out of Game of Thrones. We then get "Dumpster Diving with the Stars," an incisive look at reality television and celebrity culture, followed by "Southern Lady Code," which tells you everything you ever wanted to know about what Southern ladies really mean when they say, "She's the nicest person."

The stories in this book can be divided into two broad categories: short snippets that offer up truly great advice about how to live your life (read "How to Be a Grown-Ass Lady" and learn the following: "If you don't like something someone says, say: 'That's interesting.' If you like something someone says, say: 'That's interesting!'"); and crazy tales that devolve into murder, vengeance, or Shakespearean levels of tragicomedy. Stories like "The Fitter," about a man who has the gift to find any woman the perfect bra, are incredibly funny and then suddenly go dark, whilst other tales, like "Hello! Welcome to Book Club" are seething with a passive-aggressive geniality that you can't quite comprehend until the narrator slowly winds through all the introductions and unveils what this Book Club is all about.

By the time you get to the book's final story, "My Novel Is Brought to You by the Good People at Tampax," you know what to expect in terms of tone, but still have no idea what to expect in terms of story. Ellis does not disappoint, ending her collection with an absolute corker of a tale that manages to touch on the publishing industry, corporate branding, social media, kidnapping, and blackmail. The insanity relentlessly builds on itself until you are completely invested in the narrator and her horrific struggle with her corporate overlords, i.e. "The Good People at Tampax."

I have never been more delighted by a book and more sad to finish it. Each story reminded me of a P.G. Wodehouse novel, with every sentence meticulously crafted and guaranteed to provoke joy. Given that women were accused of being "hysterical" for centuries, Ellis has captured the most incredible sense of hysteria in this collection, taking all the everyday worries and concerns that women face and amplifying them into hyperbolic fantasies that manage to both unsettle and delight the reader in equal measure. American Housewife: Stories should be essential reading for anyone who has ever wondered what women are really thinking; though I must assure you, I am generally worrying more about uncapped Sharpies than murdering my doorman. 

Gilmore Girls: Nourishing Nostalgia

My love for the Gilmore Girls began in January 2015. I had never watched the show when it was on air, but once all seven seasons hit Netflix, people kept recommending it to me. Finally, I decided my New Year's Resolution would be to see what all the hype was about. And then I lost three months of my life.

Here's the basic premise: Lorelai Gilmore (Lauren Graham) was a single teen mom, giving birth to her daughter, Rory, when she was only sixteen. She chose to leave home, get a job, and raise Rory by herself, rather than taking the easy way out and marrying the wealthy boyfriend she didn't love. As a result, Lorelai and Rory share less of a mother-daughter relationship and more of a best-friends-forever dynamic. In the pilot episode, Rory (Alexis Bledel) is sixteen and has gained entrance into the very prestigious and pricey Chilton Preparatory School. Lorelai would do anything for her daughter, so she swallows her pride and goes to her estranged parents (Kelly Bishop and Edward Herrmann) to ask for a loan to help with Rory's tuition. Lorelai's always-scheming mother, Emily, agrees, but only if Lorelai and Rory will have dinner at the Gilmore house every Friday. And thus begin the weekly Friday dinners, a sometimes funny, sometimes dramatic ritual that pits Lorelai against her upper-class parents, while allowing Rory to bond with her grandparents and make them proud.

Setting aside Friday dinner, however, we must discuss Stars Hollow, the Connecticut town where the Gilmore girls live. This town is insane in the best possible way. It is like a Christmas card and Carnival rolled into one, with a long list of bizarre inhabitants who pop in and out of the show with unfailing regularity and give it so much of its charm and warmth. While the various citizens of Stars Hollow may get on each others' nerves (some much more than others), they are a tight-knit community who love and support each other when push comes to shove. They serve as an idyllic and zany supporting cast for the many adventures that Lorelai and Rory experience in the show's seven seasons.

The show passed the Bechdel test from the first minute and was relentless in its quest to develop these two characters into intelligent, quirky, and oddly relatable women. There were multiple successes and failures, romances and heartbreaks, new opportunities and bitter losses. But through it all, mother and daughter always found their way back to each other and a cup of coffee. Which brings me to A Year in the Life, the four-part revival of the show that Netflix dropped on Friday. While I adored Gilmore Girls when I first started watching it, the final season was a bit of a slog. When I spoke to longtime fans, they informed me this was a truth universally acknowledged, stemming from the fact that the show's creator, Amy Sherman-Palladino, had left the show after Season 6. This show owes everything to her distinctive voice and vision, and A Year in the Life is her triumphant return to the helm. Considering I, a fan of one-year's standing, was already thrilled to see this revival, I can't imagine how ecstatic other people must have been who had been waiting for nine years since the show went off the air.

As it's only four episodes, I shan't spoil a word. All I will say is that it is bizarre and wonderful. It isn't perfect but it captures all the whims and vagaries that made the show such a pleasure. Gilmore Girls always managed to strike a chord, delving into deep-seated neuroses I had always imagined were unique to me and reassuring me that these were a universal experience. Watching A Year in the Life is like a distilled dose of that sense of shared belonging. All the familiar characters and settings are back, along with the whiplash-inducing rapid-fire dialogue, pop cultural references, and general jollity laced with family drama. It feels both fantastical and real at the same time, with multiple tangents, dream-like non sequiturs, some moments that are silly and pointless and others that feel heartbreakingly right. Ultimately, it is comfort food of the highest order, nourishing and warm, a perfect serving of post-Thanksgiving nostalgia and pre-Christmas cheer. Women of all ages can find something to relate to in this story of three generations of Gilmore women, and I urge you to binge watch your way through every episode.

Dr. Strange: Dizzyingly Delightful

I've never taken LSD but I imagine parts of Dr. Strange are akin to experiencing a thoroughly spectacular acid trip. The fourteenth installment in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, this movie lends a fresh twist to the superhero genre by introducing magic and sorcery to the proceedings.

Benedict Cumberbatch stars as the eponymous Stephen Strange, a renowned New York neurosurgeon with a perfect surgical record. He takes difficult, interesting cases, but only if he is certain they can be successful, and like many surgeons of my acquaintance, the man is arrogance personified. His ex-girlfriend, Christine (Rachel McAdams), is a trauma surgeon at the same hospital and they have a good working relationship, if not a very fulfilling personal one. However, one day he gets into a terrible car crash, mangles his hands, and is told he will never be able to operate again. He spends all his money pursuing every available treatment until he finally ends up in Nepal, seeking a mysterious guru who allegedly helped a paralyzed man walk again.

At a compound called Kamar-Taj, Strange meets the Ancient One (Tilda Swinton) and her protege, Mordo (Chiwetel Ejiofor). After your standard bout of scientific skepticism, he is convinced that there really is a multiverse brimming with magic and miracles, and he might be able to access them to heal his hands. Therein begins his training and the subsequent battle with the dark sorcerers, led by the Ancient One's former protege, Kaecelius (Mads Mikkelsen), who is, of course, trying to use the ancient magic to gain immortality.

This film features astonishing visuals. As people jump through worlds and alter their surroundings with a wave of their hands, conjuring fiery spells and icy weapons, your eyes will be assaulted with beauty and wonderment. I am reliably informed that parts of the film's jaw-dropping aesthetic are a direct ode to the comic books, so there is plenty to satisfy the Marvel purists as well as the casual enthusiasts like myself. The teachings of the Ancient One are a fascinating mix of classic philosophy, meditation, and Marvel gobbledygook that don't overwhelm the plot but clearly allow Strange's development from a selfish surgeon to a superhero sorcerer. And the acting is top notch, with every actor delivering action, drama, and flashes of humor to keep things moving at a briskly entertaining pace. Cumberbatch's American accent is a tad tortured, but you won't be paying attention to it once you're transported to the Mirror Dimension.

At a brief two hours, this is a fairly short movie for Marvel and a winning addition to their canon. It follows the standard formula but adds so many genuinely breathtaking special effects that I was spellbound. Michael Giacchino's score is also remarkable, featuring jangly synth music that is both unnerving and amusing, reminding you that strange things are afoot but they will all get sorted out in the end. So watch Dr. Strange and don't give in to superhero fatigue. Every year I think I will reach a point when I am over Marvel, and every year they prove me wrong by coming up with something new, silly, and a little bit strange.  

Arrival: Soul-Stirring Sci-Fi

Arrival is an incredible movie. And I'm tempted to end the review right there because it is well-nigh impossible to explain why it is such an incredible movie without giving away all the plot points that make it so. However, let's give it a try.

Amy Adams stars as Louise Banks, a linguistics professor who gets called up by Colonel Weber (Forest Whitaker) to help the US government when aliens land on earth and they need someone to communicate with them. When she arrives at base camp, she is partnered with astrophysicist Ian Donnelly (Jeremy Renner: insert joke here about how Renner playing an astrophysicist is the most unbelievable thing about the movie). The two of them suit up in bulky orange Hazmat suits and head on over to the spaceship to meet the aliens. And the rest of the movie proceeds as a mind-bending philosophical treatise on the nature of language and humanity.

A common gripe scientists have with science fiction movies is their insistence on rendering aliens as humanoid creatures that look a lot like us except for distorted features (think green skin, big head, and skinny limbs for your classic Martian). However, the aliens in Arrival are the weirdest things you've ever seen, a bit like a cross between an elephant and a jellyfish. And their language is impossible to describe. Louise gives up entirely on understanding them via speech as they only seem to make a series of loud booming noises. Instead, she decides to communicate via writing, and the movie painstakingly goes through her attempts to reconcile their writing system with English. If you thought English was a complicated beast of a language to master, wait till you see what these aliens have come up with. Their "writing" consists of black circles that have splotches all around to symbolize different words. They also don't express these words linearly, a fact that becomes mighty significant in the second half of the movie.

Enough about language, on to humanity. One of the odd aspects of this invasion is that there are twelve separate alien ships that have landed in distinct areas across the globe. Louise is working with the aliens who landed in rural Montana, but at the same time, there are scientists in Russia, China, Sudan, etc. who are dealing with their own set of aliens. The governments of all these nations begin by cooperating and the specialists are in constant audiovisual communication to share their findings (to a point). However, once China gets spooked by something the aliens say, they decide they've had enough of this friendly banter and it's time for war. Louise is unconvinced, insisting that the Chinese have misunderstood the creatures' intent because they were using a game of chess to understand their language instead of her more nuanced approach. When you play games, you inevitably set up themes of winners and losers and battles, which limits your vocabulary to war-like concepts. Therefore, she's in a race against time to divine the aliens' true purpose and convince the rest of humankind to choose peace over war.

None of the above hits upon what truly makes this film sad, beautiful, and mesmerizing. That lies in an aspect of Louise's personal life and something she learns from talking to the aliens. The movie's twist is poignant and heartbreaking, and while reminiscent of Interstellar, it manages to cut deep because of the empathy we have come to feel for Louise over the course of the movie. Director Denis Villeneuve is an expert at making movies that are deeply character-driven regardless of genre. All that matters to him are the people at the center of the drama, and Arrival is no exception. Amy Adams' performance is sublime, and the overall message of hope and living for the moment is one that sticks with you for a long time after you leave the theater.

Beautifully adapted by Eric Heisserer from a short story by Ted Chiang, Arrival is a spare, wondrous movie, one that purports to be science fiction about aliens but really is a meditation on human beings. It is imaginative and thought-provoking, an intellectual treat that still manages to sock you in the gut.

We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Programming...

Regular readers of this blog are probably aware of my political beliefs. As an Indian woman who grew up in Bahrain and Canada, has been living in New York for the past fifteen years, and got her Bachelor's degree from Wellesley College, I am an unapologetically liberal feminist who was 100% in the tank for Hillary Clinton.

I only became an American citizen two years ago and yesterday was my first ever chance to vote in a Presidential Election. I went down to my polling station at 7 am, proudly filled in the bubble next to Hillary Clinton's name, scanned my ballot, and smiled when the machine told me my vote had been counted. I was working from home, so I stuck my "I voted" sticker on my bedroom door, and spent the rest of my day working. Then at 7 pm, I turned on the TV and watched the election results come in. I stayed up till 1 am, until I couldn't bear it any longer. I slept fitfully and finally checked Twitter at 5 am to have it confirmed that Hillary had lost. I spent the rest of my morning writing and re-tweeting sad, funny, and angry messages, trying to process my emotions. Part of me felt betrayed - it was a slap in the face that half the country couldn't bring themselves to vote for a woman. Part of me felt horribly defeated - if a woman as accomplished as Hillary was deemed not good enough, what chance did an average woman like me have in the world? Part of me was furious, part of me was desperate, all of me felt unhinged. I went to work in a fog and spent a few hours in meetings, wondering how on earth the world could keep turning when everything felt so broken.

Then at 11:30 am, Hillary Clinton made her concession speech. I watched at my desk and was holding it together. She was gracious and magnanimous in defeat. She said all the right things, was patriotic and professional. And then she said:

"And to the young people in particular, I hope you will hear this. I have, as Tim said, spent my entire adult life fighting for what I believe in. I’ve had successes and I’ve had setbacks. Sometimes, really painful ones. Many of you are at the beginning of your professional public and political careers. You will have successes and setbacks, too.

This loss hurts, but please never stop believing that fighting for what’s right is worth it.

It is — it is worth it.

And so we need — we need you to keep up these fights now and for the rest of your lives.

And to all the women, and especially the young women, who put their faith in this campaign and in me, I want you to know that nothing has made me prouder than to be your champion.

Now, I — I know — I know we have still not shattered that highest and hardest glass ceiling, but some day someone will and hopefully sooner than we might think right now.

And — and to all the little girls who are watching this, never doubt that you are valuable and powerful and deserving of every chance and opportunity in the world to pursue and achieve your own dreams."

That is when I finally cried. That is when I understood what I felt and why I felt it. I was grieving because this great woman, who was my champion, had been unable to shatter that glass ceiling. I was grieving because her dreams had become inextricably entwined with my dreams and this time, we could not make our dreams come true.

In the afternoon, friends started posting stories on Facebook and Twitter of relatives, friends, and strangers who were being harassed, spit on, and told to go back where they came from. It resembled the immediate aftermath of Brexit this summer in the UK, and despite the predictability, I am still disgusted by these human beings who cannot resist the urge to hurt and demean those who are different from themselves.

When I got home, I watched Obama's gracious speech and Stephen Colbert's stirring closing monologue from last night's election special. And I re-read Hillary's speech (I cannot re-watch it because it will make me cry again). And I realized, I should not hurt and demean those who are different from me. I am still grieving and I am still angry. But Hillary has asked me to move on and keep fighting. Obama does not want me to give in to cynicism. Colbert wants me to go hug a Republican. They are wise people who have had their fair share of successes and setbacks, and I cannot complain because my very first vote did not go according to plan. I still got to cast a vote for the first female US Presidential nominee. And I know that eventually I will get to say I voted for the first elected female US President.

I may have only become a citizen two years ago, but the one thing I have learned from this election is that America has become my home. I care deeply about its future and my place in it. So I will move on and fight twice as hard for the ideas and people that made me fall in love with America in the first place. Which brings me to this blog. Many of the things I write about here are the things I love about America. Yes, a lot of it is silly and frivolous, but a lot of it is deep and meaningful too. And when I recommend a movie, for example, I sometimes get a note from someone who watched it because of my review and it made them happy, or it made them think about the world in a different way. That is a small success, and it is one that I cherish. So I will continue to post reviews of the wonderful, strange, and terrible things I watch and read on a weekly basis, and I hope you will continue to read. And four years from now, I will vote for the second time in a Presidential Election, and I will let you know how it goes.

13TH: Stark & Searing

Ava Duvernay's new Netflix documentary, 13TH, is a shattering expose on mass incarceration, slavery, and America's continuing struggle with racial inequality. It is a powerful movie, one that will make you both angry and contemplative, and showcases how insidious and pervasive institutional racism can be.

13TH begins by outlining the language of the 13th Amendment, which emancipated slaves but contained a clause that has led us to where we are today. That clause is "except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted." The result was that while African Americans had been freed, they were now increasingly found guilty of petty, inconsequential crimes, so that they could be re-enslaved under the aegis of the prison system and continue with a life of indentured servitude with their rights stripped away.

It is a simple yet horrifying thesis, and one that Duvernay effectively proves in 100 minutes as we hear from prominent black thinkers and civil rights activists. Each participant is a thoughtful, articulate speaker, laying out some powerful truths and destroying pervasive lies. At times it is heartbreaking to hear how they recognize that their own communities have bought into the prejudices laid out by the white majority, so that black people start thinking of their own as "super predators."

As we progress through history, D. W. Griffith's 1915 film The Birth of a Nation comes under scrutiny for its glorification of the Ku Klux Klan and perpetuation of the criminal Negro who is a threat to the nation's white women. We learn about Nixon's rhetorical war on drugs, made literal by Reagan, and how it was intended as a war on minorities and the disenfranchised. We watch as the number of prisoners skyrocket as the prison system becomes privatized and Bill Clinton imposes mandatory minimums and harsh sentencing laws through his 1994 crime bill. Until we reach our present state, where America houses 25% of the world's prison population despite only housing 5% of the total population.

Duvernay's direction is impeccable, with a perfect blend of inspired imagery, powerful music, intelligent discussion, and healthy debate. She and writer-editor Spencer Averick present their case confidently and clearly, leaving no room for doubt but plenty of room for rage and introspection. 13TH is a masterclass in documentary filmmaking, a reminder that this format can provide a world of education in under two hours. After watching it, you will have a better understanding of what African Americans have endured, from slavery, to Jim Crow, to the Civil Rights movement, to Black Lives Matter. It should be required viewing for all children and adults, to understand where we started, how we got here, and how much further we have to go. 

Nutshell: Murder Most Foul

Need a break from movies and television? Pick up a copy of Ian McEwan's latest novel, Nutshell. In a slim 200 pages, this book tells a Shakespearean tale of murder, vengeance, and cunning that will satisfy your every literary craving and leave you wanting more. 

Given that this is such a short novel, I am loath to discuss much of the plot. In fact, even the description on the book jacket gives away a plot point that the author only reveals till the end of Chapter Three. The main thing to know is that this novel is narrated completely in the first person. And that person is a nine-month-old fetus. Admit it, that is an immediately intriguing concept. 

Our unnamed narrator lives in London, in the womb of a woman named Trudy, who is separated from her husband John, and sleeping with a man named Claude. She is unhappily pregnant with John's baby, and she and Claude have concocted a plan to get rid of John and get on with their lives. The fetus introduces us to all the characters in this tale, laying out the groundwork for how we got to this point. And then we are plunged into a maze of twists and turns, until we hurtle to a conclusion that seems inevitable only when we get to it. 

Ian McEwan is a brilliant writer, and I never cease to be amazed by his prose. Nutshell is a tour de force, drawing inspiration from Hamlet but giving it the most twenty-first century update imaginable. Only McEwan could describe an embryo in such scientific and poetic detail that it made me simultaneously remember my college seminars in Embryology and Victorian Poetry. This is a novel that can appeal to lovers of both science and literature (ergo in me, McEwan has found the ideal reader) and it casually weaves in references to T.S. Eliot and Dante alongside discussions of global warming and sociopolitical inequality. This fetus is the most articulate and erudite narrator you'll have encountered in your literary wanderings, and while you may want to roll your eyes as he offers up a discourse on New Zealand white wines, he also shows flashes of humorous self-awareness regarding his first world privilege. When he is starting to sound pompous and racist, there will be a sudden shift that acknowledges his limited worldview, having been confined to the womb of a wealthy white woman who listens to random podcasts and the BBC all day. 

Beyond the mesmerizing prose, however, lies a truly thrilling tale that will grip you in its talons and won't let go till the final sentence. For all the narrator's brilliance, he is completely helpless, forced to listen to Trudy's devious plans and see if they come to fruition or implode. All the while, he solipsistically ponders his fate when he finally enters the world that he has hitherto only experienced from the comfort of Trudy's wine-laced womb. It's a remarkable perspective from which to behold the world, and you'll luxuriate in it for a long time after you put the book down. Nutshell is an ideal novel: funny, wise, and thrilling, a perfect jigsaw of genres and themes that come together to produce an unforgettable story.

Fleabag: Hilarious, Touching, & True

Amazon Studios

Where would we be without the BBC and Amazon? I just finished watching the six-episode season of Fleabag, and I can't even wait to process all my emotions. I simply had to take to the blog to tell everyone to watch it immediately.

Written by and starring the incomparable Phoebe Waller-Bridge, Fleabag is the story of a single woman in London and her approach to sex, work, and family. It is only now, when I am writing this review, that I have realized we never learn her name (she is simply the eponymous "Fleabag"). Phoebe Waller-Bridge spends a lot of time making direct asides to the camera, offering up the most expressive faces ever and delivering an internal monologue to the audience as her life happens to her, and you feel so in tune with her thoughts and emotions that knowing her name is not remotely important. What is important, however, is meeting the various characters who come in and out of her life, and slowly piecing together the back story of this incredibly hilarious but ultimately sad woman.

Fleabag is a comedy. But like all comedies in the current Golden Age of TV, there is an undercurrent of drama and I would be remiss if I said this show will only make you laugh throughout its six-episode run. While the first three episodes feature spectacularly raunchy R-rated comedy and sarcastic, brilliant jokes, something happens towards the end of the fourth episode that made me realize this show wasn't just interested in making me laugh. It was definitely going to make me cry. Hugh Dennis delivers a warm and heartbreaking monologue set to an incredible piece of music and that's when you discover this show has wormed its way into your heart.

Apart from Waller-Bridge's captivating central performance, Sian Clifford is blisteringly good as her Type A sister, Claire; Bill Paterson is remarkable as their father, who manages to be both hands-off and a bewilderingly awkward worry wart; and Olivia Colman is the most gleefully evil stepmother portrayed on screen since Cinderella. The show is adapted from Waller-Bridge's one-woman play from the Edinburgh Fringe, and she manages to tell this story in six perfect episodes that manage to simultaneously wreck you and build you back up. It has been a mere two hours since I finished the last episode, and I am already keen to go back and re-watch my favorite scenes, both comedic and dramatic. Much like You're the Worst, Fleabag is a miraculous show that understands real life is not easily compartmentalized into comedy or drama; while it packs in humor, it is not afraid to allow grief and sadness to enter the fray. I love, love, love this show, and I'm willing to bet that you will too.

Bridget Jones's Baby: V. V. Good

I was in Boston for a girl's weekend and naturally, I went to see Bridget Jones's Baby. Halfway through the movie, it dawned on me that I had seen the last Bridget Jones movie in Boston as well, 12 years ago as a college firstyear. Like Bridget, I had come full circle.

Let me start off by saying that I unapologetically love Bridget Jones. This is in contrast to the majority of my female friends (the males are stereotypically unwilling to even give her a chance) who think she is a terrible fictional character. Yet, as my friend Alison put it, Bridget Jones gives hope to us all. She is a comforting presence, a foul-mouthed, boozy, inarticulate weirdo, who manages to get through life through sheer force of will. And her perpetual will-they-won't-they relationship with Mark Darcy is founded on the fact that she is genuinely a funny and lovely woman. She may not be an Oxbridge-educated top human rights lawyer, but she has her own personal charm and wit that can bring out the best in the stuffy Darcy.

 The plot of this movie is fairly farcical. Single at 43 after the relationship with Mark didn't work out (for reasons that are explained halfway through the film), Bridget is trying to live it up again. Through a series of events, she ends up sleeping with a stranger named Jack Qwant (played by Patrick Dempsey, a poor substitute for Hugh Grant's Daniel Cleaver, who does not appear in this film for reasons explained at the very beginning), and then sleeping with Mark a few days later at their goddaughter's christening. Twelve weeks later, she discovers she is pregnant and comedy ensues, as she has no idea who the father is. It seems silly but once the premise is set up, we get a truly fun film, with two earnest lovers wooing our heroine. There are loads of laughs but also a great deal of emotion as Mark struggles to convey his feelings and we get indulgent flashbacks from the old movies to remind us of their epic romance. Colin Firth is still as dashing as ever and there is nothing more glorious that watching the stern Mark Darcy unbend and smile. Only Bridget can put that expression on his face and that is why they deserve to be together. 

The movie won't change the mind of anyone who already hates Bridget, but it is a perfect treat for those of us who love her. I found it satisfying and sweet, with some physical comedy that literally made me laugh out loud in the theater and romantic moments that made me tear up. Expertly directed by Sharon Maguire (the original Shazza!) and written by Helen Fielding, Dan Mazer, and Emma Thompson (who also has a hilarious turn as Bridget's bemused OB/GYN), this movie is the perfect swan song for Bridget. It features a much more heartening resolution than the newspaper column or the latest book where--oh the horror!--Darcy was dead. The soundtrack is full of infectious Britpop, there is plenty of sweary dialogue, Shazza, Tom, and Jude put in appearances as Bridget's shockingly grown-up friends who will still enable her ridiculousness, and all in all, the movie doesn't set a foot wrong. Renee Zellweger should triumph in this performance because frankly, until I started watching this movie, I had no idea how much I had been missing Bridget. I love her, and now I have hope that when I turn 43, I can cock up my life and still sort it all out before the next Christmas Turkey Curry Buffet. 

You're the Worst: Comedy That Digs Deep

You're the Worst didn't seem like a show that would be my cup of tea. It's about two horrible people who hate relationships and then decide to give each other a try after a one-night stand. They are mean to everyone they meet, and while the jokes are razor sharp and witty, you wonder how on earth a show can be sustained on such a thin premise. But as with all great comedies, over time the comedy deepens, the characters grow, and the stories become tinged with an unexpected soulfulness that hits you right in the gut.

Aya Cash and Chris Geere play the central couple, Gretchen and Jimmy. They are thirtysomethings living in Los Angeles, where Gretchen is a PR rep for a rap trio (composed of characters that ought to have their own hilarious spin-off) and Jimmy is a writer (of novels, not TV, as he would hasten to add). They meet at a wedding and spend a night having sex and telling each other the most horrible stories they can about things they've done. When they realize they both find these stories amusing rather than heinous, they decide to give this relationship a go. What's the worst that could happen?

In addition, we have Gretchen's best friend, Lindsay (Kether Donahue), who has recently married a man she doesn't like very much. She might be the most weirdly wonderful character you've seen on television, a dumb, selfish, yet bizarrely endearing oddball who is full of brilliant one-liners and terrible advice. On the flip side, we have Edgar (Desmin Borges), an Iraq War veteran who sold pot to Jimmy in college and then became his roommate when he returned from war. Edgar is suffering from PTSD and is struggling to get back on his feet, but he is a sweetheart, the one truly kind and gentle person in the core foursome that make up this show. As the show progresses, he slowly gets his life in order, while Lindsay's crumbles to the ground. The third season of the show premiered a few weeks ago and both characters are in interesting places right now, so I can't wait to see where they are headed.

Back to Jimmy and Gretchen. They are clearly meant for each other, and much of the show feels like a screwball comedy where the main couple trades wicked barbs that halfheartedly disguise their true feelings for each other. What elevates this relationship, however, is its second season. We are slowly presented with an unexpected revelation - Gretchen suffers from clinical depression. Her brand of illness waxes and wanes, so when she is suddenly overwhelmed by her sadness, Jimmy has no idea what to make of it. We get some truly excellent episodes where he tries the usual tactics of a concerned but clueless bystander - coordinating special events to cheer her up, demanding she be happy and snap out of it, and then finally, almost giving up, before he realizes that he is in too deep to quit on her now. Geere does a wonderful job portraying Jimmy as a man who is trying his best and struggling to be empathetic, a skill that does not come easy. But Aya Cash is a revelation, perfectly capturing the complexities of depression in all its stages - the snappiness, the sudden tears, the catatonic inability to do anything or go anywhere, and even the need to pretend to be fine so that other people will stop freaking out about your sadness. It is a powerhouse performance that should be required viewing for the world.

Season 3 is three episodes in, and while the tone is still fun and sarcastic, they are not shying away from exploring Gretchen's depression, Edgar's PTSD, and a host of other topics that one wouldn't normally associate with a sitcom. By packaging these topics into a comedy, You're the Worst is the best kind of show, one that highlights how you can mine the ups and downs of ordinary life for humor, compassion, and goodwill regardless of who you are and how you are feeling. The central characters started out as awful people, but rather than being one-dimensional villains, they have morphed into regular (albeit highly sarcastic and volatile) human beings, capable of moments of great love and warmth when one of their own is in trouble. Every episode of You're the Worst contains a brilliant joke or setup that will make you burst out laughing, but occasionally they feature a heartbreaking moment of truth that will turn your soul inside out. So find FXX on your cable line-up and watch You're the Worst. It is romantic, funny, and true. 

The Night Of: Nothing is Black and White

HBO's The Night Of is based on an acclaimed BBC show called Criminal Justice. However, the show it most reminds me of is The Wire. Which makes sense because it was co-created by former Wire writer, Richard Price. The show's other creator is Steve Zaillian, who won an Oscar for writing Schindler's List. With that kind of pedigree, it's no wonder that this is one of the most compelling and stark shows I've seen about the American criminal justice system.

Set in New York City, the show tells the story of Nasir "Naz" Khan (Riz Ahmed), a Pakistani-American college student who is accused of murdering a young white woman. Naz remembers entering her apartment and sleeping with her, but the next few hours are a complete blank - he woke up alone in her kitchen, and when he went upstairs to say goodbye, he was confronted with her dead body and fled the scene of the crime. The first episode of the show is a masterclass in storytelling, setting out the clues and characters like pieces on a chessboard, and the next seven episodes play out an intricate game that touches on justice, race, class, and morality.

Given that this is a miniseries with only eight episodes, any further plot details would spoil too much. So you'll have to take my word for it when I say The Night Of is well worth your time. It boasts impeccable performances from its cast - Riz Ahmed is sublime as the bewildered Naz, who goes into prison looking like Bambi and turns into something far more heartbreaking as the wheels of justice slowly grind towards his trial. John Turturro plays Naz's lawyer, John Stone, a man who may not have the best legal reputation and only became Naz's attorney by mistake, but who is willing to tap into his inner Atticus Finch and give this kid a chance. Peymaan Moadi and Poorna Jagannathan are incredible as Naz's parents, refusing to believe their son is capable of such a heinous crime and willing to sacrifice everything to get him a proper trial. Bill Camp is tremendous as the solid Detective Box, a man on the verge of retirement who does everything by the book and yet finds himself unsatisfied with this seemingly open-and-shut case. And then we have The Wire's Omar himself, Michael Kenneth Williams, playing Freddy, a prisoner who can offer Naz protection but embodies all the moral ambiguities that are at play in this story.

In addition, each episode is exquisitely shot and edited, offering up rich character studies and suspenseful intrigue. Moments of the show reminded me of Spotlight - just as that movie glorified the often humdrum nature of investigative journalism, The Night Of revels in portraying the plodding nature of police work or setting up a legal defense. A sequence where Box has to re-create Naz's movements on the fateful night is an editor's dream, cutting from police cam footage to cell tower records and E-ZPass receipts, to create a timeline of events that the audience already knew but is still thrilling to see pieced together after the fact.

The Night Of shies away from absolutes. There is no character who is right all the time, and there is no character who is truly evil. Everyone has a story and everyone has their motivations. Some might be worse than others, but in the end, everyone has a chance at redemption and a chance to fall from grace. As the story hurtles to its conclusion, every character undergoes a transformation that highlights the murky depths of human nature. Your favorite character will change from week to week, and your allegiances will keep shifting as you uncover more information about the people you thought you had pegged. The only certainty in The Night Of is that corruption, racism, and classism permeate all levels of society. And while the series offers some hope that well-meaning people can still fight the good fight, it is all too clear that the scars from that fight will last a lifetime. 

Twelfth Night: Unfettered Joy

The first time I saw a production of Twelfth Night was three years ago at the Belasco Theatre. It was an acclaimed production, transferred over to Broadway after a successful run at Shakespeare's own Globe Theatre. It featured an all-male cast and strove for Elizabethan authenticity, showing audiences how this play would have originally been performed. Now, three years later, I witnessed a very different production of Twelfth Night put on by Public Works in the open-air Delacorte Theatre in Central Park. A zippy musical with contemporary songs mixed in with the original Shakespearean dialogue, featuring the most diverse cast of actors I've seen on stage, this production broke my brain. In the best possible way.

Directed by Kwame Kwei-Armah and featuring music and lyrics by Shaina Taub, this play opens with a musical number entitled, "If music be the food of love play on," which is the play's famous opening line. In this context, however, it is not sung by the lovelorn Duke Orsino, but Feste the fool (played with indescribable perfection by Shaina Taub), along with the play's ginormous supporting cast. The whole point of the Public Works initiative by The Public Theater is to partner with people and organizations across New York City and encourage participation from professional actors and non-professionals alike. The result is that the opening number features a bright and colorful stage crammed with a diverse and beautiful sea of humanity, featuring all ages, genders, and races, letting you know that this is going to a spectacle of epic proportions.

The play proceeds with alacrity, economically establishing the cast of characters and tangled plot featuring identical twins, unrequited love, and drunken pranks. Halfway through the play, Feste sings a quick catch-up song to remind the audience that Viola (who is disguised as a man named Cesario) is still not aware that her identical twin brother, Sebastian, is alive. As Viola and Sebastian unhappily wander on opposite sides of the stage, Feste mentions that she could reveal the truth to the two of them right now, but then the play would end prematurely and all the hard work the cast has put in over the summer would be ruined. That breaking of the fourth wall is a sheer delight, occurring throughout the play and keeping the audience engaged as they suspend their disbelief over the decidedly ludicrous plot.

Twelfth Night has always been my favorite comedy. I would giggle and guffaw at the mistaken identities and cross-dressing and random hi-jinx with the yellow-stocking'd Malvolio (played by Andrew Kober in this production with magnificently indignant pomposity - I could watch him declaim about his "greatness" for a solid hour). But until last night, I had not realized what a romantic comedy it was. Taub has penned some thrillingly soulful ballads to capture the unrequited love that Orsino feels for Olivia, Olivia feels for Cesario, and Viola feels for Orsino. Previously, I regarded all this romance as a hilarious plot point, but as the actors passionately sing their hearts out, you realize that while the audience is in on the joke, the characters are not, and their feelings transcend this comic farce. Nikki M. James, who plays Viola, has a particularly stirring voice and for the first time ever, Twelfth Night stirred up emotions in me that had nothing to do with laughter.

This production of Twelfth Night demonstrates how magnificent theatre can be when you employ a diverse cast and go all out on stage. One love song features dancers from the New York Deaf Theatre, who sign the lyrics in ASL as they employ breathtakingly graceful choreography. A fight song suddenly features drummers and martial artists from the Ziranmen Kungfu Wushu Training Center - it is unexpected, but a perfect addition to the already bonkers proceedings of this comedy. Speaking of bonkers, at one point someone in a Pikachu suit races across the stage, chased by some Pokemon Go players. You may ask why on earth that happens, to which I can only reply, Why not? This production is the polar opposite to the one I witnessed at the Belasco three years ago. And yet, despite its unconventional approach, it probably hews closest to what a modern Shakespeare would want people to see in his plays. It entertains, it delights, and most importantly, it reaches deep into your heart and conveys the true magic of a night at the theatre.

My Dad Wrote a Porno: Do Not Listen While Operating Heavy Machinery

Need to improve your Monday morning commute? Listen to a podcast called My Dad Wrote a Porno. You can guess that this is a NSFW (though I think I've recommended it to everyone I work with regardless), very adult podcast that you don't want your kids listening to. But if you're acquainted with the birds and the bees, grab your headphones (and your cervix) and get ready.

The show is hosted by three Brits: Jamie Morton, Alice Levine, and James Cooper. Jamie is the unfortunate soul whose father has written a pornographic e-book entitled, Belinda Blinked. His father writes under the choice pseudonym of Rocky Flintstone and this whole endeavor began as a retirement lark after he tired of writing tamer fare, like travel guides, with his wife. He gave the finished manuscript to his son, and the horror-struck Jamie decided there was only way to get through this piece of erotic fiction - reading it chapter-by-chapter on a podcast with his friends, Alice and James.

I first heard about this podcast on NPR's Pop Culture Happy Hour (the source of all of my favorite recommendations) and I was hooked after the first five minutes. And the people I have recommended it to have been similarly ensnared. I devoured the first season over a weekend, and thankfully, because Rocky Flintstone did not just stop with one book, the gang are now in the midst of reading Belinda Blinked 2, releasing a new chapter every Monday morning to start my week off right. I have frightened my fellow commuters by cackling on the shuttle or giggling on the street. But who cares, because this podcast is so brilliant. In addition, there are little "Footnotes" released on Thursdays that feature Q&As, deep-dives into themes that arose from a particular chapter, like a very informative Dutch lesson that gives you everything you need to know before a trip to Amsterdammmm, and interviews with celebrities who love the podcast (my favorite so far is the one with QI Elf Dan Schreiber from No Such Thing as the News - talk about everything I love mashed up into a glorious half hour).

I realize none of the above adequately explains what is so wonderful about MDWAP. It's an odd combination of bewildering plot (or lack thereof), un-sexy sex scenes (my fellow female listeners will back me up when I say there is nothing more cringe-inducing than the anatomically impossible references to cervixes sprinkled throughout the first book), stilted dialogue, and oddball characters ranging from our heroine, the bizarre Belinda Blumenthal who seems to think nothing of taking her kit off in every conceivable situation, to the Youngish Man, whose name we got as a complete afterthought once he was done shagging Belinda. And of course, this is all delivered in Jamie's fantastically soothing voice. He tries to be as professional as possible but simply can't hold it together when a particularly egregious event unfolds (i.e. every five to ten seconds) and requires as much moral support as Alice and James can muster. Even more hilariously, the trio will occasionally try to highlight moments when Rocky has genuinely written something well or displayed some kind of literary brilliance, only to quickly cast their praise aside as they get to the next horrifying sentence.

My Dad Wrote a Porno is the most gleeful, inane experience you can hope to introduce into your life. It is so funny, so unrelentingly preposterous, and such a product of the modern age where we can take the literary foibles of a retired Irishman and turn him into a worldwide sensation with a global audience of three million people. We can complain all we like about how fractured and chaotic the world is. But as it turns out, all we need to unite the masses is to listen to a hapless man narrate his father's erotic fiction. 

The Great British Bake Off: Sweetly Satisfying

Much has been written about the excellence of The Great British Bake Off (or The Great British Baking Show as it's known in the States). This past week, the seventh season of the show premiered on the BBC with its highest ratings yet. Why do people love this show so much? Let me count the ways.

1. The contestants. Twelve amateur bakers are picked from across the UK. These are thoroughly ordinary citizens from all walks of life. None of them bake for a living but they all bake for enjoyment and this show will put their passion to the test. No matter where they're from or their family background, one thing unites all Bake Off contestants: their Britishness. These are not the showboating reality stars of American TV shows. These are self-deprecating Brits who will bake up a storm and then shrug their shoulders at a compliment, never willing to say they did a good job until someone forces them to acknowledge that they have accomplished a miracle. 

2. The judges. Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood. With names like that, they have to be good. And they are. They are renowned bakers in their own right but also the ideal judges - firm but fair, always willing to find something to praise if your bake went horribly wrong and bound to nitpick if you missed one tiny thing that would have transformed your almost-perfect bake into a masterpiece. They are knowledgeable, kind, and charismatic, the perfect mentors for eager amateurs. 

3. The hosts. The comedy duo of Mel Giedroyc and Sue Perkins are great audience surrogates. Two ladies who don't know anything about baking but are sure as hell going to taste all the delicious treats. As they cheerfully announce each impossible round and then wander around the tent offering humor and support to the harried contestants, they are like a pair of adorable puppies, seeking only to bring a smile to your face or comfort you when your souffle collapses before your eyes. 

4. The format. Every episode has a theme and consists of three rounds: the Signature bake, the Technical challenge, and the Showstopper. Contestants are briefed in advance about the first and third rounds so they can practice during the week in their homes and give their closest friends and families diabetes while coming up with wondrous creations that are destined to wow the judges and audience alike. But the Technical challenge is a devilish thing. Each week, one of the judges picks an obscure recipe for an item that most of the contestants have never heard of or never made. To make matters worse, the recipe doesn't have all the details, forcing the contestants to guess at how long to leave something in the oven or how long to proof the dough. It's always a wonder that anyone makes anything edible at all. 

5. It's simply wonderful. Like a perfect bake, the above four elements of the show combine to make something greater than the sum of its parts. Over the past few weeks, I watched the latest season on PBS. I already knew who had won because it was discussed at length in the British press, but as I watched each episode, I still found myself thoroughly invested in every single baker, cheering for their artistry and commiserating in their disappointments. And when I got to the finale, I teared up, because the winner was so utterly gobsmacked and so genuinely deserving. The show feels comfortable and predictable but over the course of ten weeks, you truly get to know these people and feel like they are your closest friends. Every person who gets eliminated is dearly missed and every person who wins Star Baker is genuinely celebrated. 

The Great British Bake Off is an insidious show, a seemingly simple reality program that nonetheless worms its way into your heart. It has no time for apathy or pessimism; it only wishes to promote warmth and cheer. Be warned, every episode will leave you ravenous. But as empty as your stomach may feel, your heart will be full. 

The Wine Show: Oenological Entertainment

Ever wanted to know more about wine but had no idea where to begin? Or ever thought that wine is a topic far beyond your reach and your wallet? Well ITV presents The Wine Show, a comforting twelve-part series hosted by the charming duo of Matthew Goode and Matthew Rhys. They enjoy a good bottle of wine, but are far from experts, so they serve as the audience surrogates as they talk to experts who present them with reds, whites, and everything in between.

The two Matthews are based in a villa in Tuscany, and every week, they meet up with Joe Fattorini, a British wine expert who introduces them to wines from different parts of the world. Each episode follows a very structured format. First, Joe meets the boys with a couple of bottles of wine, says they came from some exotic locale, and then we watch a 10-minute video about his journey or the journey of fellow wine expert, Amelia Singer. Next up, is the gadget portion, when Joe talks about various gizmos that ordinary people and serious oenophiles can use to enhance their wine experience - this ranges from corkscrews to extravagant machines that pump oxygen into your wine for a hefty price tag. Then we visit a chef who has been tasked with selecting their favorite wine and creating a dish to go with it. This is the part of the show when you tend to stop wishing you had a glass of wine and wish you had eaten something instead. Then, Joe presents the Matthews with a task, and we get a delightful video where the two saunter off to some region of Italy to find a bottle of wine that meets Joe's exacting description. And finally, we wrap up with another video about some other type of wine, featuring either Joe or Amelia, drinking yet more delicious wine and reveling in the non-stop novelty of it all.

The Wine Show is a soothing and predictable program that is guaranteed to teach you something about how to appreciate a good bottle of wine. It offers a perfect balance between the enthusiastic novice Matthews, and the enthusiastic professionals, Joe and Amelia. Both camps are simply bubbling over with anticipatory delight when a bottle is uncorked, and the short videos are quite eye-opening about the global reach of a drink that is often considered to be the province of the stuffy elite. There are some remarkable stories about viniculture in the Middle East, and tales of the booming wine market in Shanghai and the difference between Western and Eastern palates that plays a huge role in wine preferences and descriptions.

You'll also learn that Matthew Rhys cannot stand sweet wine, while Matthew Goode is never more charming than when he is talking about a "glass of giggles." You will fall in love with Italy, wine, and everything else under the Tuscan sun because this is a show about people who are passionate about what they do and eager to showcase the hard work they have put into creating a perfect, delicious drink. Like a glass of champagne, The Wine Show is an effervescent delight that is guaranteed to put a smile on your face.

Stranger Things: A Masterful Feat of Storytelling

The best thing you could do today is sit on the couch and binge watch the eight-episode season of Stranger Things on Netflix. A cross between The Goonies and Super 8, it encapsulates everything that is splendiferous about our current golden age of television. If it doesn't end up winning every award under the sun, who cares, because something like this doesn't need any awards for us to know that it is an instant classic.

Set in 1983 in a small town in Indiana, the show begins with Chapter One: The Vanishing of Will Byers. We meet Will (Noah Schnapp) and his friends, Mike (Finn Wolfhard), Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin), and Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo), four middle school boys who like to play 10-hour campaigns of Dungeons & Dragons in Mike's basement. Will bikes home one night after a long campaign and is all alone as his brother and mom are out (you know it's the 80s since the kids can bike around at night and the parents aren't fussing over their whereabouts 24/7). Unfortunately, there's something in the house, and it takes Will. Figuring out what "it" is and where Will has gone is the point of the next seven episodes. 

When Will doesn't show up to school the next day, his friends team up in classic 80's fashion to find him. These child actors are a brilliant bunch who are destined for greatness. Even more destined for greatness, however, is Millie Bobby Brown, who plays a mysterious girl known as Eleven. She shows up out of nowhere the day after Will's disappearance, seems to have strange powers, and unraveling her backstory proves to be the key to unraveling Will's whereabouts. In addition to the preteens, we have the full-on teenager, Nancy (Natalia Dyer), Mike's beautiful and perfect sister, who is having a classic moment of rebellion as she dates the hot guy (the perfectly named Steve Harrington, played by the perfectly coiffed Joe Keery). For reasons I won't divulge, she gets enmeshed in the spooky drama and teams up with Will's older brother, Jonathan (Charlie Heaton), to figure out what happened. 

As for the adults, we have Winona Ryder playing Will's mother, delivering one of the most pitch-perfect performances I've seen in ages. Everyone thinks she's crazy and you are with her every step of the way as you wait for someone to finally take her seriously. David Harbour plays Chief Jim Hopper, the local police chief who doesn't seem like much but gradually becomes the hero of the piece, untangling the giant conspiracy hanging over his town and vowing to find Will no matter what it takes. There are various other characters but delving into their stories and fates is too spoilery, so I shall leave you to discover them for yourself. However, every performance is a delight and this is certainly one of the best casts I've seen on television. 

It's not just the casting; Stranger Things is impeccable in every regard. The story is doled out in bewitching morsels that make it impossible not to hit play on the next episode. Every episode ends with a doozy of a cliffhanger and there is not a single moment that feels wasted or extraneous to the plot. The show's creators, The Duffer Brothers, have put a great deal of thought into keeping you engaged but never spilling all their secrets at once, ensuring that every episode is a treat that leaves you wanting more. Things unfold so naturally and brilliantly that you must marvel at the expertise that has gone into crafting this tale. It is that rare thing, a TV show that is paced perfectly, not too long but not too short, guaranteed to scare you and satisfy you over the course of the eight best hours of your life.

The show is also shot beautifully, fully capturing the look of the 80s, but invoking an eerie other worldliness that reminds you not to get too comfortable. The music choices and synth background score are a perfect accompaniment and the production design and visual effects are jawdroppingly magnificent. The big reveals are not remotely disappointing, and the show fully delivers on all of its storytelling promises. It's impossible to describe the emotions evoked by this show - it feels familiar, almost predictable, and yet it twists in unexpected, terrifying ways that leave you pining for more. Lately, many of the films and TV shows I've seen have felt like they tried to be grandiose and original but ended up bloated and rote. But Stranger Things is an intoxicating breath of fresh air and I cannot recommend it enough. 

No Such Thing as the News: Current Events with a QI Twist

When I learned that the QI Elves had put together a weekly show where they would discuss interesting facts about current events, I knew I would have to watch. However, after watching one episode of No Such Thing as the News, I knew I could never stop watching.

The show consists of 4 Elves: James Harkin, Andrew Hunter Murray, Anna Ptasynski, and Dan Schrieber. For those not in the know, they are four of the genius researchers who provide all the background material that Stephen Fry and his comedian pals juggle with on QI (a show you should be watching in its entirety, if you haven't already). As a result, they are skilled at delving into unlikely tangents and asking questions that turn the dullest news story into the most interesting thing you've ever heard. In every episode, global headline news and local council matters are given equal weight and what is often astonishing is how Mongolian postcodes can prove to have far more interesting global implications than Euro 2016.

The four panelists are charismatic and intelligent people, who clearly are as comfortable discussing global politics and economic theory as they are with making extremely bad puns and satirizing every single piece of news they lay their hands on. Anna Ptasynski is particularly adept at making her fellow panelists dissolve into tears of laughter, while Dan Schrieber is a deft host, leading them through various news stories and Twitter comments and ensuring they extract enough interesting information from every news item before they move on to more bizarre brilliance.

The most important fact about No Such Thing as the News is that it is freely available on YouTube for your global viewing pleasure. This show has extremely low production values (with one Twitter user declaring that "it looks like a hostage video"), and the only way they can convince the BBC to let them keep making more is to rack up the viewing numbers on those videos. I would watch every Sunday at the gym and nearly fall off my treadmill laughing. So while I exhort you to watch this show immediately and bump up their viewing figures so they can create many more seasons, I am definitely worried that I am going to injure myself when Season 2 is released. Oh well, it'll be worth it. 

Upstart Crow: Shakespearean Sitcom

To celebrate the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death, the BBC produced a slew of programming to honor the Bard. Thankfully, they also allowed Ben Elton to write a sitcom to satirize the Bard. For six episodes, I giggled my way through Upstart Crow, a gloriously irreverent and surprisingly thoughtful homage to the man responsible for some of the most well-known stories in the English language.

Set in 1592, the show follows a bumbling Will Shakespeare (a perfectly cast David Mitchell), who is trying to establish himself as go-to playwright. We see him at his London lodgings, where he is attended by an illiterate manservant, Bottom (Rob Rouse), and the hyper-literate daughter of his landlord, Kate (Gemma Whelan, in a startlingly different role from her usual swashbuckling on Game of Thrones). Kate desperately wants to become an actress, and one of the series' throughlines is the silliness of that ambition in a time when only men can frolic on the stage. We also get to see Will's home life when he travels to his humble abode in Stratford, where his wife, Anne (Liza Tarbuck), lives with his parents and children. No matter his location, everyone thinks Will is far too verbose, says things with twenty words when three would suffice, and are constantly needling him about his unlikely plots and boring verses.

Will's colleagues include the acting troupe tasked with putting on his plays, his fellow playwright, Kit Marlowe (Tim Downie), who keeps stealing Shakespeare's work (a nod to the ever-present argument about Shakespeare authorship), and Robert Greene (Mark Heap), the Master of the Revels who hates Shakespeare's work and calls him an "upstart crow," thereby lending the series its title. The theme of each episode is one of Shakespeare's works, and Ben Elton cleverly crafts some impossible tale of how Will is embroiled in a fiasco that could ultimately serve as the inspiration for one of his plays. While the first episode's Romeo and Juliet theme is not too much of a stretch, the fifth episode's homage to Macbeth is insanely innovative and reveals how much Elton must love the original works to create such a brilliant parody.

Upstart Crow humanizes Shakespeare and gives us more reasons to love his work. It both mocks and celebrates his language, reminding us that Shakespeare could be both flowery and ribald, exalted and earthy. The dialogue in each episode is a fascinating blend of the 16th and 21st centuries, and the references to various plays and television shows are sprinkled in so liberally that it will take repeated viewing to catch them all. This is a series that will appeal to Shakespeare afficionados or create afficionados out of novices. It follows an extremely traditional sitcom format, and yet there is nothing traditional about the wit and verve that has gone into crafting each complicated storyline. It feels like required high school viewing, a reminder to English literature students that underneath the dense vocabulary and blank verse, there are brilliant characters, complex (often silly) plots, and a real man, who was trying to make a life for himself by spinning stories.

The Durrells: Captivating Corfu

I know summer has officially arrived, because my DVR has nothing to record anymore. In these times of televisual scarcity, I naturally turn to the UK to give me comfort, so what follows is a series of blog posts about some rather wonderful British TV shows that debuted this year and will keep you entertained till American TV makes its triumphant return in autumn.

One of my favorite books as a child was Gerald Durrell's My Family and Other Animals. The book tells the semi-autobiographical story of the Durrell family, composed of widowed matriarch, Louisa Durrell, and her four children who are all getting sick of each other in the rainy English climate in 1935. So Mrs. Durrell comes up with the only possible solution: "Let's move to Corfu." And just like that, all the family members pick up their lives, move to a country they've never visited before, and proceed to have a grand series of adventures. This book was followed by two others, collectively known as the Corfu Trilogy, and earlier this year, ITV gave us Season 1 of The Durrells, a sun-drenched series based on those books.

Keeley Hawes stars as the hapless Louisa, a woman who loves her children very much but is also quite sick of them. As we are introduced to each family member and their particular passions, we can see how it might be a trial to deal with them, both individually and collectively. There's Larry (Josh O'Connor), the aspiring novelist who continuously posits his theory that his mother's crankiness is due to her lack of a love life. There's Leslie (Callum Woodhouse), the gun-mad loon who doesn't quite understand why it might be unsettling to shoot large guns when people are trying to sleep. Margo (Daisy Waterstone) is the ditzy sister, who is trying (and failing) to attract a boyfriend and can't find any sympathy from her callous brothers. And finally, there's Gerry (Milo Parker), who will grow up to become a celebrated naturalist and the author of these books about his eccentric family. But for now, he's a quiet young boy who is obsessed with animals, and therefore causes mass hysteria by unexpectedly bringing home creatures that terrify his family.

In addition to the family members, we get to meet Spiro (Alexis Georgoulis), the Greek taxi driver who takes charge of the Durrells from the day they land on Corfu and becomes their fast friend, while dispensing all manner of wanted and unwanted advice. There's also Dr. Theo Stephanides (Yorgos Karamihos), a polymath naturalist who becomes Gerry's mentor and teaches him how to cultivate his love for the animal kingdom. All together, they are an extremely motley crew that somehow manage to make it work. Over six episodes we get treated to their various oddities, and the series builds up to a grand finale that is sure to satisfy.

The Durrells is a fun series, but it certainly feels a bit more realistic than the books. The Corfu Trilogy is only semi-autobiographical; Gerald Durrell firmly focused on silliness and never allowed any hint of the real struggles his family may have faced during that time. The show, however, contains some somber twists and turns that ground the whole premise in a more dramatic sensibility. I didn't enjoy that aspect so much, but when you have a period comedy-drama set in sunny Corfu, you can't be bothered to nitpick such details. Instead, you simply gaze at the ocean and the olive trees, heave a contented sigh, and settle in for a blissful six episodes with this crazy family and their menagerie.