Easter can only delay the inevitable so long. This is Our Design, Sound On Sight’s Hannibal podcast, makes its return just in time. In time for what? We don’t really know. But since su-zakana is a palate cleanser dish, we’re just going to invoke its powers to restart this entire introduction, and you can’t say anything about it!
Co-hosts Sean Colletti and Kate Kulzick return to talk some “Su-zakana” with Libby Hill, co-host of TV on the Internet. For anyone who was worried about the return of the thousand airplanes that fly over Sean’s house, rest easy. For the rest of you (we’ll call you the sane ones), tune in to hear the gang talk about some legitimate gender-based character issues that Hannibal may or may not being having. Also up for discussion: when TV becomes too heavy-handed, ambiguity surrounding Jack Crawford, who the heck is Margot and where are we at with the Hannibal-Will relationship? But don’t worry. That’s not all. Call within the next twenty minutes and receive a free segment of “Kate’s Classical Corner,” with one amazing insight from Sean this time around (really amazing; we’re not kidding). And if you pay with traveler’s checks and/or two-dollar bills, you’ll also get to experience another round of “The Devil in the Details.” Have a listen and feel free to join the discussion by leaving some comments.
In a recent podcast, the TV editor here at Sound On Sight, Kate Kulzick, made a great point about how many people are prone to having limited conceptions of what love is. It’s a big topic to begin with–one that could certainly warrant an entire season’s worth of podcasts to discuss–but it’s important to think about when taking in and considering works of fiction and how they address love. Love, after all, does not have to refer only to the romantic kind that most people would associate it with at first. “A Day’s Work,” a Valentine’s Day episode of Mad Men, shows several of the different kinds of love that can be shared between people. Most notable in this case, though, is the love Sally Draper has for her father, Don. And it’s no wonder that Don is taken aback with surprise when he hears Sally utter that word at the episode’s end. Even if Don weren’t stuck in a rut, waiting for SC&P to call him back, the minor shock of love here comes from how easily we can take it for granted. Don can play the role of father, and he does. He asks Sally if she wants to “go” before they “go,” still thinking of her as a little girl. He wants to protect her from the realities of mortality, wishing that she didn’t have to see her friend’s mother’s corpse at a funeral. But these are almost involuntary reactions. They don’t show the love of the father operating on the conscious level; or if they do, then they do nothing to suggest that Don is saying and doing these things out of anything other than what he perceives as necessity. Don wanting to spend time with Sally is absolutely another instance of Don being bored and wanting to connect with someone, even though I would cede to the fact that that want comes from a better place than wanting to meet up with other ad men for drinks. This is not to say that Don doesn’t love Sally or that he is, in fact, a bad father. It’s merely meant to reiterate that certain loving relationships have a way of feeling so familiar that they can sometimes become difficult to distinguish as the important connections they are. That they can, again, be taken for granted more often than they can be appreciated, which seems like it should be contradictory.
Entering into season five, the writers on The Good Wife had a plan. This has likely always been true on the show but especially going into this year, when it was clear they were going to lose Josh Charles and need to fundamentally transform the show in some ways, it seems likely that more than a few discussions were had about how to make all of this fit together. Which is why an episode like “All Tapped Out,” which wraps up the NSA subplot in a way that makes it an open question whether there was ever a point to the arc at all, can be a bit frustrating.
Hannibal’s “Su-zakana” is pretty much a palate cleanser; an episode representing a new start in the relationship between Dr. Lecter and Will Graham. Now halfway through season two, the series seems to be entering a new phase in which Will slowly lures Hannibal by using himself as live bait. Hannibal has never been subtle, and if you didn’t already guess based on the episode’s title alone (which refers to a palate-cleansing-Japanese-dish), this week is all about the concept of rebirth.
Orphan Black is back, and before diving into an analysis of the season premiere, it feels right to take a moment to enjoy that statement. This series exploded onto genre fans’ radar last year, putting together a fantastic first seasonthat embraced its heightened world while grounding itself with relatable, recognizable characters and one hell of a central performance from Tatiana Maslany. It was one of this reviewer’s picks for the best TV shows of the first half of 2013, it stood out as having one of the best episodes of all of 2013, and at the end of the year, the SoS writers collectively voted it the #15 TV series of 2013, among incredibly heavy competition. Orphan Black season one was fresh, exciting, and perhaps most importantly, it was fun. Thankfully, if this premiere is any indication, we’re in for more of the same in season two.
Boneless, titled for Ragnar’s latest son, is a stand-out offering from a largely sure-footed series; crammed with glorious portent of battle (and battle scene alike), and flinty farewells backed up against luxuriously shot love scenes. Moreover, all the loose plot-threads are carefully spliced into one another; without any loss of gravitas or mood, too. Is some of this hyperbole?
It’s death, death, and more death on the schedule for the Jennings as the second season of The Americans continues: “New Car” doesn’t just force Elizabeth to face (literally) the death of her protege Lucia, but makes all of the KGB face an ideological truth when information the Jennings stole turned out to be fake, leading to the death of 160 young sailors of the coast of the motherland. And as the bodies continue to pile up, Elizabeth and Philip are growing more and more on edge, an anxious fragility that’s underlined every scene this season with a new sense of urgency – and more importantly, ambiguity, as the spy world becomes as confusing and nonsensical as the many lives they’re both trying to maintain.