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.