Volume I of Stranger Things 4 is easily better than 80% of the endless options available on streaming but fails to deliver the can’t-look-away panache or zeitgeist-shifting extreme confidence of the nigh-perfect debut season. Stranger Things (ST) has a fairly obvious success problem. The first season was a simple yet intoxicatingly enthralling mix of mystery, nostalgia and pitch-perfect character that rightly became a phenomenon. The gloriously effortless story of plucky, unafraid kids (one of them with powers!) triumphing over an unknown evil with the help of a hard-drinking, downtrodden sheriff captured the hearts of viewers in a manner that felt and hit different. Still does. Subsequent seasons, for no fault of their own, suffer from increasingly diminished returns. Volume I of ST4 is just the latest case. ST2 was tantalizingly close to matching the debut season while ST3 was an exceedingly gratifying watch that expanded the show to include far more characters and glimpses into greater Hawkins. Volume I of ST4 expands too far for its own good. It’s the fandom-dividing episode 7 of ST2 on steroids (QC Note: I loved EP7 of season 2). The Duffer Brothers wrote themselves into a tough spot in moving several key players out of Hawkins. The entire Russian sub-plot which takes up a good chunk of ST4 Volume I is a chore to watch and completely throwaway. The ultimate reveal of the Demogorgon therein is quite literally superfluous to the greater story. So far, at least. The show drives home at its tail end that fan-favorite Dustin has so much experience with the upside down that he finally “gets” the rules of the shadowy dimension. It comes too late and feels surprisingly flat. While the sequence does set up nicely how the Hawkins crew can now enter and exit The Upside Down at will, it should’ve felt like an exciting capstone to Volume I but instead comes across as a bit sleepy and been-there-done-that. Perhaps if I could watch ST4 Volume I with no memory of the dizzying visual and story heights of the perfectly balanced first season I would have only good things to say. But alas I cannot and thusly must recommend ST4 with the aforementioned caveats. It’s still as good or better than damn near everything else on Netflix within the fantasy/horror/thriller genre..
In a world not long for good news, it’s nice to stumble upon something that feels decidedly hopeful and well, sweet. Netflix Original Sweet Tooth, executive produced by Iron Man himself Robert Downey, Jr., doesn’t set out to be like any other show and that is its greatest strength. At its core a fairy tale, Sweet Tooth paradoxically feels grounded in reality due to an omnipresent, globally life altering virus and the search for a cure (even if the Jeff Lemire written comic the show is based on pre-dates covid by several years). Sweet Tooth incorporates several interesting themes including the lies adults tell children to keep them safe, the fear of the outsider/unknown, the naivete associated with innocence and the desire most of us have to fully understand where we come from. We are given just enough back story to create curiosity while maintaining mystery. All performances are excellent from Will Forte as the wearily grizzled father figure, Nonso Anozie as the soft spoken and golem-like guardian, and newcomer Christian Convery as the titular sweet tooth, otherwise known as Gus. The proceedings occur almost entirely in one beautifully shot open wilderness location that clearly establishes the show’s adventurous tone and sense of wonder. The first episode is a winner. I can’t wait to experience the remainder of the series.
At this point in history the superhero show is so ubiquitous that it’s fair and reasonable for rational entertainment consumers to expect new entrants to offer something different. It can’t be just me thinking this way. Jupiter’s Legacy, based on a Mark Millar-written comic I’ve heard of but never read, doesn’t do anything at its outset to distinguish itself. I hung in there waiting for the “a ha” moment to come and it never did. Is it a “some people have powers and it’s a normal part of life” show or a hyper-realistic take on super-heroics and villainy a la Heroes? Not that I can tell. Is it fun, wacky and ultra-violent like The Boys? Not at all. It’s also not subversive in any way I’d describe as specifically interesting. It’s Watchmen minus the commentary. And it doesn’t matter what you think Watchmen is or isn’t commentary on, it isn’t present here. The only similarity with Watchmen is in costume design and that itself is only notable because the costumes are so similar that you can’t watch Jupiter’s Landing without thinking of Watchmen. Who is this show for? I watched the premiere and can’t tell you the hook. Perhaps it doesn’t have one. That doesn’t necessarily make the show bad, it just translates to something that doesn’t stand out within a genre landscape where standing out becomes more and more important with each superhero-themed release (the old man makeup is also decidedly Prometheus-y). The action set pieces at the beginning and tail end of the premiere are both suitably thrilling considering the show’s budget and subject matter but we should collectively hold our superhero content to a higher standard. The sizzle reel included with my early review screener would indicate very interesting things to come as well as more high-quality action and VFX. I’m actually excited to see what comes next despite the muted praise within this review. But I must also be honest in sharing that I went in expecting and waiting for something about the show to grab me and justify its existence within the crowded superhero genre. Here’s hoping this moment occurs in episode two.
The bloodless and largely consequence-free fights and fight choreography in seasons one and two of Cobra Kai were competent enough to not be distracting. The show smartly leaned into its primary strength, nostalgia, and peppered in just enough of the classic Karate Kid hand-to-hand stuff to keep those seeking action engaged. It’s a delicate balance and the first seasons had it mostly figured out. That is, until that extended final battle of season 2. The overly long school-yard dust-up was critical narratively as it set up Miguel’s injury, Sam’s PTSD, and the “karate is doing more damage than good” through line of season 3. It also shone light on the primary weakness of the otherwise outstanding show: the fights. The fight choreography isn’t just toothless and poorly conceived, it’s laughable. The producers chose to (mostly) hire actors who are actors first and not martial artists or stunt-people. I understand this decision as the hook of Cobra Kai is more nostalgia than martial arts but the frequent student-on-student clashes of season 3 which (mild spoiler) occur entirely outside of the structured environment of a karate tournament look and feel like actors flailing about and falling down awkwardly. I suppose a case can be made that this is the charm of Karate Kid. I found it distracting. Why do the blows have consequences only when the plot requires it? They couldn’t do a better job of hiding the painfully obvious stunt doubles for Kreese and Daniel LaRusso? Overall, season 3 is the campiest yet with certain lines and their delivery feeling cartoonish, stilted and too on the nose. Cobra Kai generally wants to be taken seriously but then gives us dialogue that feels ripped from the worst of Saved by the Bell (the one from the nineties). At other times the writing is excellent with William Zabka benefitting from the most logically satisfying arc. If you liked season 1 and 2 of Cobra Kai, you’ll like season 3. It’s a bit unfocused compared to the first two but ends perfectly to set up the already announced season 4.
Whoa. The last episode of Warrior Nun is nutso in the best way. The show pays off plot threads spectacularly – you want to immediately go back and watch from the beginning with newfound perspective. That, my friends, is essentially what all shows are trying to do. Warrior Nun feels a lot like Buffy the Vampire Slayer but with significantly superior fight choreography, bigger budget sets and more sumptuous cinematography. The frequent utilization of on-location filming gives the show a bit of a Game of Thrones vibe (high praise). Alba Baptista, our titular Warrior Nun, is impossibly beautiful and larger than life but also relatable, just like Buffy. Both Nun and Buffy succeed in striking a satisfying balance between believable conflicts, ass-kicking, quipping, and creating a mythology as interesting, complex and compelling as the characters within. As someone who is rarely surprised, I must credit the show for going in a direction I didn’t see coming. The already announced season 2 is shaping up to be something special.
Master of None, if nothing else, is unique in its unflinchingly honest portrayal of the intricacies of dating, friendships and just trying to exist and "get by" in New York City. Aziz's Dev is a short Indian with an uncommonly tall Caucasian best friend - the show frequently acknowledges their size difference to great comedic effect. His other best friends include a well-meaning but clueless Indian, LGBTQ+ black woman, and an Asian man portrayed as existing in the sweet spot between sweetheart and womanizer. I highlight the diversity of race in order to appreciate how the show allows the cast to be diverse just because they happen to be so. They aren't caricatures of their communities or defined by their race. This review is truncated and broad because that's what we do here - the characters on the show are quite the opposite. They are fully realized and consistently hilarious. The writing is top-notch. Real Quick: The arc between Dev and Rachel is beautiful in its sincerely unbiased and un-saccharine portrayal of the trappings of well-intentioned romantic cohabitation.
Season one entertainingly laid bare the pratfalls of cohabitation as well as romantic ambivalency and the seeming inevitability that feelings fade. Season two walks us step-by-step through the ever-present notion associated with modern romance that something better exists a swipe away, falling hard for someone you shouldn’t, infatuation, love unrequited, love forbidden, silkily sweet intimacy, crushing heartbreak, and finally, love consummated. Maybe. I walked away from the last shot of the final episode (spoiler alert) thinking Dev had only imagined he was with Francesca and that she was long gone back to Italy. Others I’ve spoke to saw it differently. Assuming Francesca did return to Dev, what of Pino? All is fair in love and war. Real Quick: In addition to the gut-punch that is Dev and Francesca’s season long will-they-or-won’t-they, season 2 admirably addresses dating/sex in the deaf community, religion, and the challenges of growing up as an LGBTQ+ person of color.
We live in a golden age of entertainment, spoiled rotten by a dizzying array of content always a click away. Whatever you’re into, there is show or movie about it. It’s just a matter of finding it. In recent memory there is one standout show that speaks to me so strongly I will recommend it to anyone without reservation or additional qualification. That show of course is Seinfeld. Stranger Things is a close second. We’re currently at the tail-end of the pandemic, a time of relatively few AAA new releases. Nostalgia runs deep at The QC both out of necessity and because we simply love nostalgic things. Stranger Things represents perhaps the finest modern example of nostalgia as an effective device for storytelling deployed without winking at us and distracting from the story. The show is utterly magical and dream-like in its ability to transport the viewer back to the simpler time of walkie-talkies and record-players. Imagine The Goonies, E.T., Stand By Me and all the 80’s and 90’s Spielbergian tropes we’ve come to know and love mixed together in a blender. That is Stranger Things. The show is suspenseful, supernatural, sweet, legitimately scary at times and the mystery at the center of the first season is wonderfully written and acted. All it takes is a quick peek at Wikipedia to know that more than a dozen cable networks turned down show creators/writers the Duffer Brothers initial pitch, demanding the show not feature child actors as the main protagonists. Thankfully for us, the Duffers stuck to their guns and vision. Stranger Things is a phenomenon and rightfully so. Later seasons suffered from ever so slightly diminishing returns as the curtain of supernatural mystery was pulled back. It's hard to capture lightning in a bottle twice and the intoxicating sense of eerie place and feelings of agitation from season one have yet to be replicated. I’d go as far as to say that season one is the best thing going on all of Netflix. Bring on season four.