Sunday, December 13, 2015

Review of the film Tangerine


“Merry Christmas Eve, bitch.”*

     Shot entirely with an iPhone, Tangerine weaves and threads through the streets of West Hollywood following transgender prostitutes Sin-dee Rella (Kitana Kiki Rodriguez) and Alexandra (Mya Taylor). It’s Christmas Eve, and Sin-dee has just been released from a 21-day jail stint. And she’s fuming because rumor has it her boyfriend/pimp Chester has been cheating on her with a fish — or cisgender woman to those who aren’t in the know. So while her best friend Alexandra keeps pleading for “no drama,” Sin-dee stomps around the neighborhood looking for Chester and Diane, Denise, or Deena — whatever the bitch’s name is — to extract some answers and maybe some vengeance. Their paths continuously intersect with other pimps, prostitutes, police officers, johns, and a myriad of West Hollywood locals. The camera also follows an Armenian cab driver named Razmik (Karren Karagulian) who appears to have a thing for Sin-dee and not much love for his wife, mother-in-law, and baby at home attempting to celebrate the holiday. 
    This all might seem a touch frenetic, which it surely is. But this engaging drama and its subsequent hilarity sometimes pause and allow for quieter, more tender — and equally captivating — moments between characters, ones in which we glimpse the depth of who these individuals are as human beings. Beneath the fevered bravado and tough performance, Sin-dee and Alexandra are characters with desires and hopes for themselves and one another. It’s something to see a film in which these women — characters that are normally marginalized and mocked in most popular media — are shown, simply and powerfully, with their humanity on full, technicolored display. 


*dialogue from the film

Sunday, December 6, 2015

Review of the television series Jessica Jones: Season 1

"Would you put day drinking under experience or special abilities?"*


     Jessica Jones is a bitch. And I mean that as a true compliment. Another superhero show but one in which the hero would really rather not, this series allows its female lead to be complex — messy in all senses of the word. Jessica is crass and rude, a bit of a slob and alcoholic, emotionally distant, moody, impulsive, and rash. In other moments, she's brave and honest, vulnerable yet strong, and good. She's a hero whether she wants to be or not, and she's also a complicated human being.
     Operating within the same New York City as that which was leveled by Marvel’s Avengers in their epic battle against Ultron, Jessica Jones works as a lowly private investigator — creeping in the shadows taking photographs of cheating spouses and hitting the bottle pretty hard in between jobs. She has powers, or special abilities, that she would rather keep concealed, as well as a nasty case of PTSD inherited from a past trauma involving the erroneous use of those abilities.
     The clearly evident feminism running through the show is just as complex as its hero. And it isn't perfect either. For every instance in which the episode plot easily passes the Bechdel test — possessing more than one female character and having them talk to one another about something other than the men in their lives — one can’t help but notice the nearly complete lack of women of color among these characters. But while there are bones to pick aplenty, there is real, sincere effort within to tell feminist-inspired stories — show women who, despite monstrous challenges, have true agency in creating their own narratives.
     One of the most salient themes throughout this first season is that of domestic violence. And Jessica, even with her superhuman powers, is not above her own traumatic story with partner abuse. The villain of the season is not armed with heavy-hitting super-strength or the ability to move large objects with his mind. Rather, he uses his mind to control other people and make them do whatever he wishes. And his wishes are quite malevolent in nature. This white man with the super-brain, Kilgrave as he is known, is a force of pure white male privileged id gone bonkers. He moves through the world leaving a wake of mind-violated victims behind — men and women both. But he is really gunning for Jessica Jones, because she is the only one who, for just one second, had the ability to say no to him. But not before he had contaminated everything she was — most importantly, her belief in her own agency. 
     It’s from this source that Jessica’s PTSD stems. It’s because of this horrible man that she had hidden herself and her abilities away and sulked in the shadows. But as the season swiftly moves along, we get to see Jessica change dramatically — finding a strong footing in her relationships with friends and fellow victims. And we see her desire to not only cease Kilgrave’s maniacal path through a vulnerable and unwitting population but also her wish to reclaim ownership over her traumatized psyche and life. It sure is something to watch. And sincerely smile about. 




*dialogue from the show


Saturday, December 5, 2015

Review of the television series Master of None: Season 1


     The television series Master of None, created by Aziz Ansari and Adam Ylang, debuted on Netflix a little over three weeks ago. It stars Ansari as Dev, a 30-something millennial living in New York City whose acting career is middling at best and whose progress into successful adulthood comes with an overload of growing pains. The show instigates thought and reflection along with plenty of laughter as Dev explores provocative cultural issues in each episode. The plots often include stories that remain unseen or strictly marginalized to the edges of the majority of our entertainment media - which makes the show something of a revelation in terms of comedy series. Master of None touches on race and racism, immigration and acculturation, dating travails, the questions surrounding having kids, employment woes, covert vs. overt sexism, and diverse friendships. And though Ansari and Ylang certainly do not handle each of these topics with seamless precision — sometimes it feels a little preachy or too on the nose — it’s something to praise that they’ve attempted to tell these stories at all. What really strikes the right notes is the artistic voice and vision of the show; its hits the ground running with a strong, funny, and smart viewpoint. I can’t wait until the second season to see what other questions Dev posts to the world. Get on this train.