The Tick: The Optimism We All Need

The first six episodes of Amazon’s new version of THE TICK hail from the character’s original creator Ben Edlund, and they are amazing.

Tick and Arthur

Voice of Darth Maul (and essential player on Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg’s SPACED), Peter Serafinowicz plays the titular tick. And the co-host of Blank Check With Griffin And David, one of the greatest podcasts of ALL TIME, Griffin Newman plays Tick’s sidekick, Arthur. In an outstanding, statement-of-intent performance, Newman laces his character with beautiful layers of vulnerability and fragility, as he battles mental illness and grief, and struggles with the notion that he might actually be a superhero. His twitchy sensitivity plays perfectly against Serafinowicz’s boomingly cheerful hilarity and positivity. They’re a double act for our times, representing the strobelike oscillation many of us have suffered throughout this year, bouncing between the emotional likes of Taylor Swift’s “I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time,” and Newman’s tremulous, heartbreaking, not-at-all-convincing, “I’m a really together person.” Let’s face it: We’re all Arthur right now, and we all need a Tick to show us the way.

The show is a goddamn delight, full of hundreds of throwaway zingers, some slicing observations, and some excellently named villains (The Terror, Overkill… Lint…). It’s bright, bold, beautiful, warm, compassionate, heartbreaking and sensitive in its handling of mental illness… and still really funny. It’s a tonal masterpiece, bouncing merrily along its high wire and never missing a step. The show opens with Newman’s Arthur struggling hard to just function at all, and ends (this half of its season) with a jaw-droppingly brilliant joke that leaves you cracking up as the credits roll. In between, The Tick rolls deep through genuine emotions while slinging jokes like ninja stars.

Tick Dot and Arthur

It’s not just Newman and Serafinowicz who excel. Valorie Curry is quite frankly extraordinary as Arthur’s paramedic sister Dot. She combines razor-sharp Friends-era Jennifer Aniston comedic chops with Mulholland Drive-era Naomi Watts emotionality, in a fresh, utterly present performance that’s feisty and magnetic. Jackie Earle Haley is in monstrously villainous form as Arthur’s nemesis The Terror, and Yara Martinez brings an unexpectedly empathetic streak to the super-evil electro-fingered Lint.

For such a quirky show, it’s directed as though it’s the Dark Knight, in full 2.40:1 ultra-widscreen, and with genuinely amazing cinematography. This is not a surprise, since Christopher Nolan’s DARK KNIGHT trilogy DP Wally Pfister directs the opening episodes, and sets the tone: super-sharp visuals that simultaneously elevate and ground the material. Spending time and money on making the show look so good pays off tremendously, and gives the cast a powerful environment to play against. Also, the sentient A.I. Danger Boat (it makes sense when you see it) looks and sounds like something out of a Marvel movie.

Tick skyline

THE TICK is essential viewing. Get yourself some Amazon Prime, and watch these first six episodes. It’s unlike anything else on TV, and Newman is the hero we didn’t know we needed… but who we really f**king needed. As an actor he’s achieving his dream, and in this role he shows us that maybe we can all achieve ours.

The GLOW of ORANGE IS THE NEW BLACK: Why Jenji Kohan just had her best TV month ever


June, 2017.

The month kicked off with the long-awaited, cliffhanger-resolving fifth season of ORANGE IS THE NEW BLACK, and concluded with the debut of the fantastic new show about 80s women’s wrestling in L.A., GLOW. What did two of the greatest seasons of TV this year so far have in common, apart from absolutely kick-ass female ensemble casts? Executive producer/showrunner Jenji Kohan.

Jenji Kohan

Kohan, courtesy of THR

OITNB ended on a mother of a cliffhanger last year, with a frantic, uncertain Daya aiming Humphrey’s gun at his head.


Kohan and her writers made a bold and brilliant choice for this new season: the show picked up at that exact moment, and the entire season took place over three days. This gave the show a freshness and immediacy that kept adrenaline and interest levels skyrocketing as we followed the evolution of the riot. It allowed for some seriously deep dives into all of the characters. We also got whole new levels to relationships, some unlikely bonds, and even a marriage proposal. The danger and threat level remained absolute throughout, although the show still managed to weave in its signature laughs and sadness. Taystee in particular got some insanely powerful moments, proving that Danielle Brooks is the MVP not just of this show, but also TV, acting, and life. No doubt.

OITNB Taystee

The end result was that the writing was tighter, more precise; the characters more nuanced; the actors had more freedom and opportunity to truly go there with their performances. It was a thrilling and emotionally exhausting ride, the best season of the show yet, which closed with the best episode (with the best use of music in the show to date), and, yes, an even bigger cliffhanger than last year.

OITNB S5 ending

What a start to the month for Kohan.

But she wasn’t done. Nope. Not even close, baby! Because one awesome and extraordinary cast of magnificent women per month just isn’t enough. Enter, GLOW.

GLOW cast

Created by Liz Flahive and Carly Mensch (playwrights who between them have worked on Nurse Jackie, Homeland and OITNB), this is a modern take on the 80s cult classic show of the same name (Gorgeous Ladies Of Wrestling), albeit one still beautifully grounded in its gritty 80s setting. It’s still colorful, but it’s the dirty underside of the day-glo. The sets are grimy and unglamorous, the performances are grounded and nuanced, and the song choices for the soundtrack are always a zig where you expect a zag—no one could have foreseen that one of the best moments of the series would be set to a song from the original Transformers cartoon movie, “Dare” by Stan Bush (and Rocky IV training montage composer Vince DiCola for maximum 80s!).

GLOW Ep 7 Transformers

The amazing “Transformers” sequence in the amazing episode 7 of the amazing GLOW

The show foregrounds the desperation, neediness, hurt, and all the other messy emotions of its protagonists. It’s real, in other words. Painfully so, sometimes, and that’s one of the keys to why it works so damn well. The writers on this show—including Rachel Shukart, Nick Jones and Sascha Rothchild—do an expert job of contrasting the moments of emotional sweetness and uplift with the exposed wiring of the human heart (not literally, this isn’t GAME OF THRONES).

One of the main reasons for GLOW’s awesomeness, though, is its glorious cast of incredible actresses. This is a show that is not afraid to foreground its women and take ferocious aim at the gender discrepancy in Hollywood (and, like, the world). The show focuses on struggling actress Ruth, who is played to revelatory perfection by the always great but never better Alison Brie in what is, inexplicably, her first real leading role. Hopefully this pushes her into the acting stratosphere she deserves—incredibly, she had to audition multiple times for what should’ve been the easiest casting decision of all time (yes yes, I know casting is a truly complicated puzzle in many dimensions that needs to be completed *exactly* right or the whole thing falls apart… I absolutely know this… but c’mon… it’s Ali Brie!)…


GLOW opens with Brie’s Ruth giving her all in an audition for a female role that is nothing compared to the male role. This sets the tone perfectly: These women have a struggle on their hands. They have to fight, and fight hard, for something that is only in the vicinity of what they really want. Ruth is a great character to drive a show like this. Her neediness and desperation and unflinching desire to transcend her circumstances are powerful engines that keep the story rolling.

GLOW Ruth car

This is one of Ruth’s more glamorous moments in the show

Brie’s performance is fearless and unflinching. But this isn’t a one-woman show. There are fourteen amazing women on screen, and any one of them could be the lead, because the writers have made each of them so fully grounded and realized, and because the performances are all so vulnerable and magnetic and empathetic and funny and raw. I could write an essay on each of them, but suffice it to say, they all get arcs and standout moments, and every single actress here KILLS IT AT ALL TIMES.

The combination of breathtaking performances and killer writing forms a shield against conventional wisdom and stereotypes. Very early on, we find out that Ruth has slept with her best friend’s husband. Most shows would label her the villain and give her the one dimensionality of a selfish ‘slut’. And she wouldn’t be a leading character in those shows. Instead, GLOW artfully reveals the emotional complexity at play, and keeps Ruth highly relatable. In short, they do what seems to be so hard for many shows (and movies): they make her a complex person. They also give her an equally complex nemesis in the form of her former best friend, Debbie, AKA Liberty Belle. Betty Gilpin gives an affecting and powerhouse performance that provides a searing counterpart to Brie’s drifting Ruth.

GLOW Debbie

Gilpin, owning it as Debbie

There are men of course, most primary of which are WTF podcaster Marc Maron, and former Veronica Mars star (Team Piz!) Chris Lowell. Maron excels as the seedy yet principled, abrasive yet vulnerable director of the show within the show, and Lowell delivers comedy gold as the moneyed producer of the whole thing. Both stand out, which is impressive considering they are surrounded by fourteen of the finest actresses on TV right now.

GLOW robot

Maron, Lowell, and a robot. It’s the 80s.

In short, GLOW is perfect, we need season 2, and we must bow down to Kohan and her writing teams for bringing forth two such complex and mighty female ensemble shows, in the same month, no less.

Let’s be honest: The world needs more powerhouse female ensembles, both in TV shows & movies, and in front of & behind the camera. They’re good for everyone: Great actresses want to work with other great actresses, we all want to watch amazing performances and extraordinary characters and relationships, and TV outlets need the immense ratings that ensue. Everyone wins.

We need more. Let’s make it happen, Hollywood.




5 reasons to watch CLASS, Patrick Ness’s DOCTOR WHO spinoff

In truth, there are so many more than just five reasons to watch CLASS.

Class logo

It’s beyond awesome. It’s extraordinary TV. It’s not just in the highest echelon of DOCTOR WHO storytelling, it’s in the highest echelon of TV storytelling… of ANY storytelling of any kind. The show is thrilling, exhilarating, hilarious, emotional, terrifying and utterly, utterly grounded in the authentic lives of five teenagers at the newly remodeled Coal Hill Academy… which just happens to have a rip in space-time that lets through all kinds of horrors.

Here are the five most pressing reasons for you to watch.


Class - Ep6

The cast of CLASS is a truly bad-ass collection of excellent actors. They all play wounded characters with complex lives and pasts, and they do it brilliantly, with everyone bringing just the right balance of humor and ALL THE EMOTIONS and copious amounts of badassery. That’s a tricky and delicate balance, but they all do it: Sophie Hopkins as April, the nice girl who’s anything but meek, Fady Elsayed as Ram, the tormented, anguished soccer star (football in the UK btw), Greg Austin as the uptight Charlie who’s carrying cosmic levels of baggage, Vivian Oprah as Tanya, grieving for the loss of her father and struggling with being a 14 year-old in a class of 17 year-olds, and Jordan Renzo as Matteusz, Charlie’s Polish boyfriend, and in some ways the moral center of the show. That’s the gang. But we can’t forget the sinister, spiky Miss Quill, played with delicious malevolence by the fantastic Katherine Kelly, who brings rage, nonchalance, and pathos to a powerhouse of a role. Quite possibly the best line-readings you’ll find anywhere on TV in 2017. In fact, without a doubt the best. An iconic performance that rivals any in the DOCTOR WHO universe.

Class Quill


It’s hard to talk about the storytelling on this show without (a) destroying my thesaurus in search of enough superlatives and (b) giving anything away. Suffice it to say, the level of storytelling in this show is amongst the best we’ve ever seen from DOCTOR WHO.

Class Ram

Awesome storytelling very much pictured.

There are individual episodes of CLASS that are top 5 of any in the Whoniverse. The overall arc shifts and evolves powerfully, driving all 8 episodes (each of which works so brilliantly alone but still form part of a stunning whole) to a jaw-dropping, head-spinning, gut-punching finale that BEGS FOR ANOTHER SEASON DO YOU HEAR ME BBC AND BBC AMERICA???? As writer and showrunner Patrick Ness himself put it on Twitter…

Speaking of Mr. Ness…


The rhinoceros-loving, permanently blue polo-beshirted YA megastar author who brought us the stunning CHAOS WALKING trilogy—as well as the frankly traumatic A MONSTER CALLS (novel and screenplay), brilliant sci-fi/contemporary masterpieces MORE THAN THIS and THE REST OF US JUST LIVE HERE, and the forthcoming RELEASE—is the only writer who could have made CLASS what it is.


Not pictured: blue polo. Or rhinos.

His ability to weave thrilling tales about genuinely grounded and authentic teens, stories that are shot through with savagely cutting humor and heart-hurting sadness, is unparalleled (I mean, except maybe by J.K. Rowling and Joss Whedon… they all sit on a single throne of awesomeness. It’s a tight fit). His writing in CLASS is on a whole new level. His characters are compelling, complex, beautifully diverse in a way that just reflects the world, funny, fierce, and brave. As they deal with tests, detentions, and, yes, terrifying monsters from throughout the universe, they keep everything painfully grounded and real. The writing here is just a joy to behold. The jokes hit hard, the emotions even harder, and it’s genuinely horrifying and scary when it needs to be. It brings a thrilling edge to the Whoniverse that we’ve never seen before.


I snuck a few extras in there. Of course, the show couldn’t be great without Ness writing some seriously intense scripts and a series of wonderful performances to really bring them to life, but it could have gone horribly wrong elsewhere. Simple things like putting the camera in the wrong place, lighting shots too brightly, editing too loosely or clumsily, adding music that doesn’t feel quite right… You know when you’re watching a show, and something just feels off? Yeah… you won’t have that feeling here. Because this show never puts a foot wrong. It’s kind of incredible.

Class Quill Charlie

Ed Bazalgette directs 3 of the 8 episodes, while the rest are beautifully shot by Phillipa Langdale, Wayne Yip, and Julian Holmes. They do a phenomenal job. This is fantastic-looking sci-fi that’s slick, has depth, looks gritty and ferocious, and really foregrounds the performances. One episode takes place pretty much entirely in one classroom—and it’s one of the most visually fascinating and kinetic episodes of all of them. The special effects are amazing, easily on a par with the flagship show, and in some cases, far more convincing. Every element of this show comes together to form one hilarious, emotionally devastating joyride through space and time.


At the time of writing, the show hasn’t been picked up for a second season… but it hasn’t been canceled either. It aired in the UK last year on an online-only channel, and reading between the lines, it seems like the powers that be are waiting to see how it performs on BBC America. So, my geeks, my nerds, my Doctor Who fans, my fans of sci-fi, of great TV, of great storytelling: Deploy! PLEASE WATCH THIS SHOW. We need joyously great TV shows like this. It’s genuinely up there with monster hits like STRANGER THINGS and GAME OF THRONES, it hits you in the feels like THIS IS US (OK, maybe it doesn’t reduce you to a quivering pile of sadness every single week, but it’s not far off), it’s at least as witty as BUFFY ever was, and sometimes more so, it introduces some truly scary and iconic new monsters and threats, and it’s got a visceral edge that you won’t be expecting.

So watch this damn thing. You’ll be glad you did.

For more info on the show, head on over to the BBC America CLASS site.

CLASS starts its 8 episode run on BBC America at 10.10pm Saturday April 15, following the premiere episode of Peter Capaldi’s final season as DOCTOR WHO.

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story

Arguably the biggest of Disney’s gambles following their purchase of Lucasfilm, Rogue One is the inaugural standalone film, the first to fall outside of the main saga episodes. Without that built-in Skywalker name recognition, would audiences still show up?


Rogue One is a smart choice of story for a standalone, as it dovetails directly into A New Hope. It’s a tight, simple plot, the inspired brainchild of ILM effects legend John Knoll, who realized that one of the lines from the crawl in the original Star Wars would make an excellent movie: the story of how a daring team of rebels stole the Death Star plans.


With that as the starting point, the story team and filmmakers (including writers Gary Whitta, Chris Weitz of Twilight: New Moon and American Pie fame, and director Gareth Edwards) set about creating that rebel team, and their deadly mission.

The movie underwent significant reshoots, with the Bourne movies’ Tony Gilroy taking on some writing and possibly directing duties too, all in the name of making this the best movie it could possibly be. This generated a lot of noise about whether the movie was “in trouble”… but look, here’s the thing: most movies get reshoots to some degree. The Bourne Identity reshot for almost a year, and that was a nailed-on classic. In Rogue One’s case? Although we’ll never know what the original version was like, you gotta assume the reshoots were a good thing, because the end result is a great movie.

However, the first viewing is slightly disconcerting. The early trailers were made before the reshoots, and as such they contain many lines of dialogue, beats, shots and entire scenes and sequences that are not in the final movie, meaning we can see just how drastic some of those changes were, particularly to the final act.


One of those moments that’s gone. Still love this line.

That first time around is frequently an experience of expecting something that you’re not going to get.

The second viewing does a Death Star test shot on your preconceptions, and shorn of those expectations, is a much purer experience.

Because the final version of this movie is something to behold.


Intense, thrilling, moving, fun when it wants to be, bleak most of the time, but always, always, with those true Star Wars vibes. The team of rebels is compelling and well-drawn. Jyn Erso is a gutsy, bold female lead, brought to emotionally vivid life in Felicity Jones’s brilliant, affecting performance. Diego Luna is perfect as the morally compromised Cassian. Riz Ahmed caps off a stellar year for him (The Night Of, The OA, the Hamilton Mixtape and a Swet Shop Boys album) with a great turn as a defecting Imperial pilot. Donnie Yen and Jiang Wen are fantastic as the blind force-sensitive Chirrut and his laser cannon-wielding protecter Baze. And Alan Tudyk does a fantastic job as the ultra-snarky K2-S0.

The team get pulled together in challenging, thrilling ways as the clock ticks on the Empire starting to unleash the Death Star’s full, planet-killing potential. The core of the story is, smartly, an emotional one: Jyn’s relationship with the father who was taken from her at a very young age. This drives her choices and the arc of the movie, within that tight heist structure. Although the beginning of the movie is a little stuttery, starting with a disconcerting stab of horns on the soundtrack, and jumping around fast between locations and timelines, once it settles in, it MOVES, and that final act, which leads up to just before New Hope starts, is outstanding (SPOILER: seeing Darth Vader going wild in full Terminator mode might just be the greatest scene in the movie), and, in the end, powerfully moving.


Cue the waterworks.

Is it perfect? Not quite. There are some issues. The aforementioned stop-start of the opening, some of the musical cues being jarring (e.g. the super-triumphant scoring of the two star destroyers scene near the end, and the actual theme of the movie over the title card), the need for more humor (the droid is hilarious, but there were still several moments where you long for a some extra biting sarcasm). The skipping between timelines short-changed Jyn’s character somewhat, making her motivations a little scattershot to start with. And Krennic’s character was relegated from the powerful villain promised by the trailers, to a frustrated, powerless bureaucrat who is only the third most important Empire figure in the movie (fourth if you count the not-seen but mentioned Emperor); which is a shame, because Ben Mendelsohn was magnificent in the role, and deserved a more iconic villain to sink his teeth into.

However, those are minor niggles, and overall, Rogue One is a powerful, exciting, hugely enjoyable experience, full of those sweet Star Wars feelings, with a genuinely epic third act that sends you thrillingly headlong back into the original trilogy.

And as far as the future of the Star Wars standalone movies goes?

Rogue One more than gives you hope.

And, unexpectedly, it serves as a beautiful final tribute to Carrie Fisher, whose tragic, devastating passing affected us all in so many ways. RIP to one of our most beloved, iconic, smart, inspiring and humble heroines. She will be missed.



Luke Cage: Long Live the Chief

Back in the day (well, 2011), I wrote about an emerging TV writer called Cheo Hodari Coker, who was working on the greatest cop show of all time (SouthLAnd, fool), in a blog with the title Coker Plays The Blues. Coker went on to write some of SouthLAnd‘s greatest episodes, as well as work on Almost Human, NCIS: LA and Ray Donovan.

But now he’s stepped up to create and run a show that’s been dominating social media for most of the summer, without even being released. So when Netflix dropped the most buzzed about show in its history at the end of September, expectations were sky high.


2016 is an especially charged year for a show about a bulletproof black man, a fact not lost on Coker. So he did the only right thing, the thing he’d been intending to do all along: he leaned into that, hard. Luke Cage dives deep into the African American experience: it’s the show’s beating heart, the blood in its veins, its soul, and its purpose. And in that respect, the show couldn’t be any better.

The show’s foregrounding of what it means to be black in America is so long overdue in TV (or on any size screen) it’s ridiculous: how has it taken this long? (Yes, I know why: institutional bias, AKA, racism). Luke Cage is what TV (and America, and the world) needs now more than ever. Coker cast people of color in every level of role (which, shamefully for society and pop culture, was a revolutionary act in itself) and hit hard with his signature dropping of references in the scripts, which means the show is stacked deep with truly excellent actors and performances, namechecks everything from Chester Hines to A$AP Rocky… and then there’s that soundtrack… damn, that soundtrack is sweet. Adrian Younge and Ali Shaheed Muhammad bring the funk with a gritty, slinky, soulful Wu-Tang meets Shaft vibe that gives the show a whole extra dimension of cool.

It has been called the Wu-Tangification of Marvel (by Coker), but on watching the show, you realize that that’s not strictly true… it’s more classic and less agitated than that. It’s more like the 70s Isaac Hayes-ification of Marvel, which is still intensely, deeply cool, but not quite as savage and frenetic as the Staten Island collective. The reason for that is the pace of the show. When Jessica Jones (which gave us our first look at Cage) dropped, some people complained about its novelistic pacing, and how not every episode stood alone in terms of stuff happening specific to each episode. Personally, I dug the hell out of it, but here’s the thing: Luke Cage is paced much more slowly than JJ.

It’s beautifully made, but it’s also an extremely deliberate, measured, slow burn, which is why it’s more Motown than RZA. It’s personal preference as to what you make of that. For this reviewer, it did feel early on as though all the bandwidth was being taken up with some very long conversations. The conversations were, of course, important texturally, and in themselves, they’re joyously great (that opening scene was beautifully played out); but you can’t help wondering if there could have been a way to combine the texture with the action, instead of separating them out. The show makes texture, subtext, theme and action all one thing later on to brilliant effect (e.g. the dashcam video, Misty explaining why an innocent black man would be on the run from cops who think he’s guilty and are armed with special bullets), which makes you long for some of that at the start.

Those early conversations are about books, meditations on the nature of power and society, and what it means to be a man. Those are all powerful things to fill a show with, but this is a genre show that’s part of the Marvel universe. For the first half of the season, it didn’t necessarily feel that way: it lacked fire and, literally, punch.


OK, there’s some punching…

Luke Cage is, especially early on, a somewhat passive and reactive character. The premise for the show is that he’s hiding out in Harlem, trying to be invisible (I’m not sure we needed the lingering shot of Cage staring at the cover of Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man, but…). That’s a low key place to start, but necessary for Cage’s arc from hideaway to hero. Thirteen hours is a long time for that type of arc to play out, though. That means the show takes some serious time working through those beats. The pattern for the first few episodes is a lot of talking, and maybe a minute or less of action at the end. You need to get on board with the slowed down rhythm. The lack of fire and tension is compounded too by some head-on framing (perfectly composed and very still wide master shots are a trademark of Sherlock director Paul McGuigan, who directed the first two episodes and set the tone), scenes that are very, very cool but run long (e.g. Cottonmouth walking very slowly towards his picture window to get the perfect framing of the Biggie picture’s crown on his head), and editing that lingers slightly too long on some moments, all of which contribute to letting the air out of a lot of scenes.

Don’t get me wrong: there’s a certain glee to moments in the first three eps. Luke beating down Cottonmouth’s thugs at the end of the first, Luke’s iconic attack on the Crispus Attucks building to the sounds of Bring Da Ruckus in three (which, although it lacks some visual clarity, is still damn cool), to the closing seconds of that episode, when Cottonmouth shoots a f**cking rocket at Luke—it’s undeniably a kickass moment—which kicks us into ep 4, which is full of flashbacks. That ep takes its time, but lets us know exactly what happened to Luke to make him bulletproof, which justifies the speed of the revelation.

The transitional episode is probably the fifth, “Just To Get A Rep.” This features some of the most clumsy and purely functional dialogue to date in the show, and it has scenes thrown together that don’t really flow, creating a jarring effect. But it’s the ep’s epic non-dialogue scenes that tilt the show towards its remaining (and generally much more successful) episodes. Firstly, Jidenna singing Long Live The Chief in the club is f**king HUGE. It hits HARD. Goddamn, I loved that. Suddenly, the club and its music IGNITE in terms of storytelling. Chills, baby. Secondly, and, sorry, even more awesomely, is the reappearance of Claire Temple, played by the legendary, extraordinary, miraculous Rosario Dawson. While everyone on the show is phenomenal (more on that later, but gotta shoutout Simone Missick right here), it’s Dawson that brings the fire to Luke Cage. She’s walking through Harlem, some punk steals her bag… so she runs him down and beats the shit out of him. Perfect. Welcome back, Claire.


And just to point out, those two were actually ONE SEQUENCE. Hats off. Jidenna in the club interweaves with Claire beating down her attacker. It’s how the ep starts and it’s JUST. SO. GOOD. You’re on your feet yelling at the TV because this is exactly what TV should be.

From here on, the fire set in episode five begins to burn more steadily. There are some bumps along the way—the pacing is still uneven, the dialogue can be stilted in places, and the reveal of Diamondback lacked clarity, which detracted from the impact of his appearance (the very low-key, very low-impact handling of shooting Luke with the second Judas bullet didn’t help)—and there’s another significant dip in episode 10, “Take It Personal”, which has much less effective dialogue than ep 5, and in terms of outline and execution, is often confusing and bemusing (so much is made earlier of how catastrophic it would be for Luke to get shot with a second Judas bullet, but ep 10 forgets that second bullet is even there — Claire only takes out one set of fragments. That’s severely jarring, and takes you out of the story.).

But, on the heels of that, we get “Now You’re Mine,” the eleventh and absolutely the best episode by far. Shout out to the writer, Christian Taylor, and the director, George Tillman Jr. It’s amazing. It’s like the show needed to follow Diamondback’s advice in the early moments of the ep: “Later for that pre-written shit… sometimes you gotta freestyle.” Hell to the yes. The dialogue sings sweetly, characters spit wisdom and fire, the storytelling is tense, fraught, suspenseful, the directing is ferocious, and the whole thing is just fantastically and gleefully dark and intense. It also features one of Claire and Misty’s finest moments as they beat down Shades and help each other try to escape the club. Magnificent, towering performances from Dawson and Missick make this some of the best TV of 2016. This is what the show needed to be. Not in the sense that it had to come out of the gate at an 11, but there needed to be signs that this was coming; that this could happen in this world.


Episode 12, “Soliloquy Of Chaos” (we have to give Coker kudos for naming every episode after a Gang Starr track, because it works perfectly), continues to bring the fire. Which EXPLODES in the finest final moments of any ep in the show: the always brilliant Ron Cephas Jones finally—FINALLY—gets a bunch of lines worth a damn and absolutely kills with them (“What the hell what type of Jean-Paul Gaultier shit is this? What are you, a pimp stormtrooper?” GREATEST LINES ON TV IN 2016), and the show plunges head-on into full genre insanity, when Misty speaks for all of us and says, “kick his ass, Luke.” Diamondback, tricked out in his pimp stormtrooper high-tech-as-shit outfit, and Luke finally rush each other… and we cut to black. Genius. Everything about this episode works so perfectly it hurts.


The final episode drops us right into the fight we’ve been waiting for, and it’s refreshing, and appropriate, that it’s more of a drag-out, knock-down Rocky style brawl in the street. It does kind of just, end, though — and the hints of sci-fi that have been given during it (lingering shots of the power unit on Diamondback’s… back… powering up and down) are not really capitalized upon. And, the fight is at the opening of the episode, which doesn’t leave the rest of the hour with too many places to go. The sudden end to the fight, and the story’s subsequent adrenaline crash, take us back to a slower pace, which foregrounds the key concern of the show: Luke’s lack of agency. Although there are a few key moments when he takes control, for the majority of the thirteen episodes, things happen to him, and he reacts. Which could have worked, except the finale to the show is Luke, in one sense, giving up, reacting one last time and allowing circumstances to dictate his path in life. You can, clearly, read his final decision as noble, and can see some justification for it in his general world-weariness. But it’s an oddly low-key, anticlimactic end. That said, the very final shot, applause over the New York skyline, is pretty goddamned amazing and thrilling.

But Luke isn’t in that shot, and that reminds us that in this show, some of the things that are the most awesome don’t involve Luke at all.


Including, and especially, the other characters. Theo Rossi threatens to steal the show as Shades. Simone Missick gives Misty such a wonderful, wounded intensity. Erik LaRay Harvey tears up Diamondback’s dialogue and spits it in finely deranged fashion. Alfre Woodard truly delivers Mariah’s tipping between powerful and powerless. Mahershala Ali is positively and ferociously Shakespearean as Cottonmouth. Ron Cephas Jones needed more lines because he could say anything and make it sound kick-ass. Rosario Dawson… shit, why doesn’t she have her own Netflix Marvel show at this point? Expose Claire to some experimental rays or serums or some shit and give her powers and let her tear it up! (One of the show’s coolest moments is Claire’s final shot, where she tears off the number for the self defense classes… she’s so gonna own Iron Fist).

But we can’t forget the main man, the power man. Mike Colter. He really brings the brooding, haunted, conflicted Cage to vivid life. Despite the fact the Luke has a habit of being pushed to the back of the action, Colter mesmerizes in every shot, and makes it his own. One of the best cast Marvel heroes of all, no doubt.

So this is where we end up: there is so much to love with Luke Cage. It’s an important show, an essential show, frequently beautiful to look at and experience, and it does many, many things really f**king well. But in the interest of brutal truth: it is uneven (you can clearly feel the different writers on the show), there are pacing and dialogue issues, and its hero often seems detached from the action (in some cases literally off-screen for major stretches of time). Coker is absolutely one of the finest TV writers we have, and has curated a supremely bad-ass and massively, poignantly relevant piece of iconic pop culture with Luke Cage. For what it’s worth, I hope he uses those final few episodes as the template for season 2. This show is too good, and too important, for anything less.