Posts Tagged ‘The Sopranos

27
Apr
11

Katey Sagal’s authorial voice

Gemma Teller Morrow, baddest bitch; image courtesy of latimes.com

I recently blew through the first two seasons of Sons of Anarchy, the FX series about SAMCRO, an outlaw biker gang based in the fictional Northern California town of Charming. I didn’t care if it was a retelling of Macbeth. But other things did pique my interest.

For one, between Wendy O’Brien casting Sons and Camille H. Patton and Christal Karge’s work on Justified, dammit if FX doesn’t want to make a home for former Deadwood players. Two actors from Deadwood factor prominently in Sons‘ first two seasons. Paula Malcolmson, who I love as Trixie, shows up in the third season (no spoilsies). If Robin Weigert and Kim Dickens show up in season four as the president and old lady of a rival gang, I will fall apart. Dykes on Bikes! Make that show happen!  

Following how casting directors continue to be haunted by the specter of HBO original programming’s peak years, I was pleasantly surprised to see Drea de Matteo in Sons‘ first season as Wendy, the reformed heroin addict/baby mama to SAMCRO prince Jax Teller. She was the heart of The Sopranos and it’s nice to see her in something good instead of Prey for Rock & Roll and Dueces Wild.

To dovetail casting issues into masculine camp, was Henry Rollins ever well-suited to play the brainless muscle for a white supremacist business owner looking to put the stranglehold on Charming? When I watch Sons, I tend to feel like Britta in that Community episode where she watches Winger fight a mustachioed Anthony Michael Hall: every time a biker hugs a brother, I’m just waiting for them to make out. Obviously Rollins is no stranger to queer ‘shipping.

Young Hank Garfield, using his bicep as a billboard; image courtesy of sfweekly.com

As someone who eats queer machismo (is there any other kind?) like so much candy, I love the theme song, ”This Life,” by Curtis Stiger and the Forest Rangers. Only in the context of the opening credits, of course. For one, it was written for the show. For another, I have little use for the song’s wangdangdoodlery on its own. But I’d imagine that the Sons would listen to this while fixing up bikes in their garage and pump their fists to the lyrical propaganda. Of course the ‘CRO doesn’t fly in a perfect line, but the Sons have to believe it does.

The musical selections on the show is pretty interesting. Music supervisors Bob Thiele, Jr. and Michelle Kuznetsky sneak in a considerable amount of indie-friendly rawk. A lot of Black Keys in the first season. A Devendra Banhart cut in the second season. Some Don Cab. And of course Black Flag’s former front man gets to follow RZA’s example and show off the band’s logo from time to time. 

Two pop classics are prominently featured in Sons. Dusty Springfield’s “Son of a Preacher Man” ties up a scene in season one. The Rolling Stones’ “Ruby Tuesday” underscores an especially harrowing scene involving Katey Sagal’s character that sets up the climax for season two. They are sung by the actress. As Sons uses pop music as a narrative device–following The Sopranos‘ sterling example–this puts Sagal in something of a unique position. She gets to create one of the defining female characters in recent American television and comment on what’s happening to her.

This gets to the real reason I watched Sons: Katey Sagal is Lady Macbeth. I’ve been a casual fan for years. I liked her voice work as Leela on Futurama. Plus, like my dad, I could never understand why Peg Bundy is deemed unattractive by her husband when it’s obvious that Sagal is a stone fox.

Sagal is pretty incredible as Gemma Teller Morrow on Sons–by turns conniving, haunted, loyal, sexy, vulnerable to aging, resilient, and hard. SAMCRO dictates that her station is as old lady to biker king Clay Morrow and queen to biker prince Jax, but she’s more Tony Soprano than Carmela.

Gemma’s relationships with some female characters are starting to develop in compelling ways. I’m hoping Cherry reappears in season three. Gemma begrudgingly respects Tara Knowles (Maggie Siff, Fashion Club President Rachel Menken to Mad Men viewers), a doctor who rekindles an old romance with Jax following her return to Charming. Knowles’ past delinquencies also suggest that she may have quite a bit in common with Gemma.

The writing improved considerably after the first season as well, so I didn’t have to suffer through Gemma admonishing Tara that a handgun isn’t something you just throw in your purse and forget about like a used tampon. Um, writing staff: I don’t know a woman who’d absent-mindedly throw a bloody tampon back in her bag. Just sayin’. Maybe they’ll intervene with Gemma’s relationship with ballbusting ATF agent June Stahl (Ally Walker), as they seem to move toward at the end of the second season. In season one, they have an antagonistic exchange that’s a few undone buttons away from a softcore scene. Also, if wardrobe could find a pair of pants that do Walker justice, that’d be cool.

While I don’t assume Sons creator Kurt Sutter is an ardent feminist, I think it’s cool that he created such a complex role for his wife to play. Depending on how you read the series, you could argue that Gemma is the show’s protagonist. As Sagal notes in an AV Club interview, she primarily worked in comedy prior to taking on this role. Also, given the dearth of well-drawn female characters, especially for women over 25, Sagal’s performance is pretty exceptional. It’s also why I hope actresses like Connie Britton, Khandi Alexander, Edie Falco, and Jennifer Beals–maturing foxiness aside–keep booking acting jobs.

That Sagal’s experience as a backup singer and solo artist are put to use alongside her acting skills in Sons suggest that her contributions are not only vital, but central. Here’s hoping Sagal’s character picks up a mic (draped with scarves) at some point in the fourth season. Biker skirmishes are essentially musical interludes anyway, so why not have actual rock chicks singing? I bet Tara can accompany Gemma on guitar. This blogger requests a cover of “Night Train.”

01
Oct
10

Why I wanted to see Sally Draper go to Shea Stadium

Sally and Don Draper; image courtesy of lippsisters.com

For those who saw Mad Men‘s “Hands and Knees” earlier this week, you know a lot of plot was rolled out. For those who follow Mad Men (and its forbearer, The Sopranos), with three episodes remaining in the current season it’s around the time the show moves from glacially paced meditations on characters and their stations in life to seismic shifts in culture and the characters’ twining personal and professional lives, which usually get met with little reaction at all. I concur with Slate‘s Michael Agger on the clumsy way in which plot moved forward in “Hands and Knees,” which he thought was best illustrated by the not-too-subtle crack on the head a character received from his father’s cane, leaving him in a state the episode title refers to.

But if the show is also about characters evading difficult decisions by refusing to act, which Salon‘s Heather Havrilesky observed in her episode recap and is a central theme the show shares with The Sopranos, it is also about shifting viewers’ expectations by deliberately occluding them from witnessing events that other shows would foreground. We don’t see Joan, Roger, or Betty’s weddings. We don’t see Paul register Southern black voters. We get the most limited interactions with the people of color who exist, if at all, on the borders of the main characters purview, most of whom could probably tell us a great deal about the people who ignore them. We may never see Sal again, even if the termination of a major account at SCDP may allow for his return. The most we tend to get is the aftermath, with the characters either denying the heft of their realities or not noticing them at all. To take it back to Havrilesky’s point, if very little actually happens on Mad Men, it is because the characters refuse to let it. Thus the events that would traditionally be of interest to viewers get sidelined, slipping away from the characters’ minds.

This can be a really frustrating way to assemble a televisual narrative, and I certainly understand if it’s off-putting to some. Kristen at Dear Black Woman, wrote a provocative essay for Antenna about the show’s strategic marginalization of black people wherein much of her pleasure in reception seems to derive from an as-yet-unfulfilled hope that people of color will gradually ingratiate. Speaking for myself, the limits of withholding people, information, and events from viewers took a toll on me as a fan this season. This is primarily because the central narrative arc is about Don Draper floundering as an ad man, divorcé, friend, and father, illustrated by self-destructive actions that I think will curry sympathy and ultimately favor, which I don’t think he deserves.

Draper’s attempt to get back in daughter Sally’s good graces with tickets to the Beatles’ historical Shea Stadium concert following a harrowing unplanned take your daughter to work day in “The Beautiful Girls” is another case in point. Though the threat that Draper won’t score the tickets after promising Sally looms over much of the episode, it’s peripheral to concerns that the Defense Department might cotton to Draper stealing the life of a commanding officer during his service in Korea to hoist himself out of his bleak personal and professional prospects. Of course, Draper does follow through and maintain his reputation as a fun weekend dad. He’s also aligned with the Beatles at the end of the episode by staring at his comely secretary to the strains of an instrumental version of “Do You Want to Know a Secret,” somewhat stealing his daughter’s emotional thunder. 

What Sally took part in on August 15, 1965 at Shea Stadium; image courtesy of nydailynews.com

The subplot is worth it alone to see Sally’s unbridaled excitement over the news, but I would’ve liked to see her at the concert. As yet, I only have actress Kiernan Shipka’s thoughts on the Beatles. Naturally, as it’s a big cultural event that could reveal much about the impacted character, it’s obscured. But thinking about Sally’s excitement alongside the peer female Beatles fans Barbara Ehrenreich identifies with in Re-Making Love: The Feminization of Sex or even Robert Zemeckis’ terrible I Wanna Hold Your Hand, I’m curious how the Beatles and the nascent significance of Boomer youth culture and shifting gender, sexual, and race politics will serve as a catalyst for Sally. This is also why, in addition to getting a guitar for her birthday, I’m still waiting for a meaningful exchange between Sally and Peggy Olson, who is working through similar negotiations–sometimes misguided–of the restrictions placed on her gender and age. I hope I get it, and I hope I see the aftereffects of the show on Sally that are more psychically resonant than a case of laryngitis.

02
Feb
10

Please pray for rock n’ roll

Clamdandy, played by Lori Petty, Shelly Cole, Gina Gershon, and Drea De Matteo; image courtesy of filmlinc.com

The general consensus is that Prey for Rock & Roll is terrible. In fact, the trailer looked terrible.

But it’s about a LA-based band named Clamdandy (shudder) comprised of queer women supposedly past their prime. One of my favorite scenes in Whip It! is when Juliette Lewis’s character Iron Maven admits to Ellen Page’s Babe Ruthless that she didn’t find something she was really good at until after turning 30. I root for the underdog. You know this. Bonus points for a movie that features Lori Petty and Drea De Matteo, the latter of whom broke my heart as Adriana La Cerva on The Sopranos and looks like she was born to play in a rock band.

That said, wow what a pile of garbage Alex Steyermark’s directorial debut is. He’s since retreated back to his roots as a music supervisor and I think that’s for the best. I had no idea that a movie which opens on close-up fragments of Gina Gershon’s bare midriff, leather adorned chest, and open pout had nowhere to go but down.

But the movie has bigger obstacles than poor technical execution. It’s hard to overcome a script as hackneyed as the one first-time screenwriters Cheri Lovedog and Robin Whitehouse penned. Let’s count the regressions and clichés. If you haven’t seen the movie yet, don’t worry about the spoilers. You’ll see them coming.

1. Gershon’s Jacki is a bisexual tattoo artist who discovered the power of rock through Tina Turner and Exene Cervenka. She starts the movie with Jessica (played by Shakara Ledard), an African American woman who she casts aside in the name of rock. By the end of the movie, she’s with a white bruiser convict with a neck tattoo who goes by the name of Animal (played by Marc Blucas, who most Buffy fans will remember as Riley Finn). But don’t worry. He murdered his pedophile stepfather to save his sister, Sally.

2. Drummer Sally (played by Shelly Cole, who I’m currently watching play Madeline on another WB/CW teen soap called Gilmore Girls) is not only a survivor of sexual abuse. She also gets raped by Nick (played by Ivan Martin), a junkie with a sick rape fetish who dates bassist Tracy (De Matteo).

3. Tracy’s a junkie too. That damn trust fund is an albatross. But don’t worry — she gets clean after Jacki reveals to Sally that she has a similar family history and the band write a song called “Every Six Minutes” about sexual assault. I should be more excited about a song that confronts and indicts rape, but Lovedog isn’t a good songwriter either. For a good example of an anti-rape song, might I point you toward X’s “Johnny Hit and Run Paulene”?

Or, since punk boys often misunderstood its message, let’s listen to The Raveonettes’ “Boys Who Rape (Should All Be Destroyed).”

4. Sally is a lesbian and is dating guitarist Tracy (Petty). In addition to being punished by having to listen to the half-hearted efforts of lazy guitar students as an instructor, Tracy gets killed by an oncoming car when some no-goodniks of color steal her guitar.

But fear not. The band soldiers on. And yet, I have no real reason to care.

12
Dec
09

Lindsay Weir, Deadhead

Lindsay Weir boards a bus to hide from her parents that she's really goin' truckin'; image courtesy of jeffzittrain.com

I was talking with my friend and neighbor Rosa-María during Glee‘s fall finale about Freaks and Geeks. We were specifically talking about the final episode, “Discos and Dragons,” which she just rewatched. In it, Michiganian teen protagonist Lindsay Weir is loaned a copy of The Grateful Dead’s American Beauty by her hippie high school guidance counselor Jeff Rosso and steps into a larger world.

An album that blew Lindsay's mind; image courtesy of esquire.com

I’m not a Deadhead. For those of you watching Community, main character Jeff Winger’s religion/Paul Rudd analogy in this week’s episode is pretty much exactly how I feel about the band (i.e., we understand the appeal and don’t begrudge it, but also don’t share it). To me, I’ve long wondered why anyone would listen to the Dead when there’s Santana, a peer jam band that was more rhythmically intesting with a better lead guitarist. And before anyone starts mailing me bootlegs, I have also heard American Beauty. My first listen even took place around some pretty optimal conditions. It didn’t take.

That isn’t to say that I’m not fanatical about other things. For one, I’m a huge Animal Collective fan, who are themselves a bunch of hippies with a rabid fan base. And while I don’t think the two bands sound that much alike, both espouse feel-good truisms like “What do you want me to do, to do for you to see you through?” and “You have your fits I have my fits, but feeling’s good.” And of course, Animal Collective’s “What Would I Want? Sky” samples the Dead.

I’m fanatical about this show too. It’s one of my favorite television programs, perhaps of all time, and unlike some of the critically-acclaimed fare of the decade (ex: The Wire, The Sopranos, Mad Men30 Rock, The Office, season two of Friday Night Lights, season three of Arrested Development), I don’t think I know anyone who has seen Freaks and Geeks and doesn’t like it. I’m especially fanatical about how much music factors into both the characters’ lives and the tone of the show. For a show set in pre-MTV suburban Michigan, it nails the radio domination of classic rock, the percolation of punk and post-punk, and the general antipathy toward disco. Thus, it makes sense that Lindsay and many of her peers would be into the Dead, as they’re also into The Who, Led Zeppelin, and Rush.

Though a lover of Neil Peart and a skilled disco dancer, Nick Andopolis never got over the death of John Bonham; image courtesy of 2112.net

As an aside, one of Lindsay Weir’s clearest televisual counterparts is not a Deadhead, even though the band was fashionable at the time of her show’s season-long run. Angela Chase, the angsty protagonist of ABC’s ultra-90s’ drama My So-Called Life was given her father’s tickets to a Dead concert in “Father Figures” because he couldn’t make the show. She scalped them out of anger toward her father, who she caught talking to an attractive woman who was not her mother outside their house. She also did it for the chance to talk to her crush Jordan Catalano, who was willing to buy the tickets from her. But it’s also clear that Angela doesn’t get what all the fuss over the band is about, much to the ire and bewilderment of her Deadhead friend Rayanne Graff.

Guess which one of these girls listens to the Dead; image courtesy of galateageorge.com

I think Lindsay becoming a Deadhead is really interesting. Throughout Freaks and Geeks‘ 18-episode run on NBC and the Fox Family Channel, Lindsay worked toward defying expectations. Sometimes, these expectations were put upon her by her peers, whether they be her kid brother Sam and his nerdy friends, the Mathletes she used to be close with as a geeky good girl, or the burnouts she hangs out with throughout the series’ run. Other times, they were put upon her by authority figures, whether they be the concerned faculty at William McKinley High School or her parents, who feared this bright girl was throwing her life away by running with a bad crowd.

But the best moments for me of this show were when she defied her own expectations, which were already considerable. She does it when dumping freak Nick Andopolis, an otherwise nice boy who was completely wrong for her, and later when she tries to be his friend. She does it when she rejoins the Mathletes only to quit again after realizing that she doesn’t get any joy out of it. She does it when she tries pot for the first time, only to discover that she really doesn’t like it. She does it when she sticks up for her friend Kim Kelly in English class when they both dismiss Jack Keroauc’s On the Road, to the disdain of their pretentious teacher. She does it to dazzling effect when promoting her family’s sporting goods shop while sticking it to Vice President George H.W. Bush and his lackeys for throwing out the original question she was going to ask him in assembly during his visit to her school.

She does it here too. Originally skeptical of the Dead’s profundity, she gets a gentle nudge from a stoner couple at her school (one of whom is played by Samaire Armstrong, who I enjoyed on The O.C. as Seth Cohen’s music geek girlfriend Anna and who had an enviable platinum blonde pixie cut with hot pink roots in the Lindsay Lohan vehicle Just My Luck). When Lindsay gets the record home, she slowly absorbs the music and ends up “getting it,” whirling around exuberantly in her room.

The guides on Lindsay's quest; image courtesy of sepinwall.blogspot.com (if interested in Alan Sepinwall's appraisal of the finale, click on the image)

As an aside, kudos to actress Linda Cardellini for being able to make what could be an otherwise cheesy scene believable.

Discovering the Dead couldn’t come at a better time for Lindsay. As her junior year winds to a close, she finds out that she’s been selected to participate at a state-wide academic summit at the University of Michigan. The idea of spending two weeks of summer vacation participating in competitive seminars and hobnobbing with her supposed intellectual peers sounds like a flattering offer but a pointless exercise to her. It sounds like little more than résumé padding to me, though I probably would’ve gone if offered it at that age).

However, the idea of following the Dead from Texas to Colorado with her Deadhead friends and Kim sounds like an ideal way to spend part of her summer vacation. So she decides to skip out on the symposium to go truckin’.

These girls have other summer plans; image courtesy of thelipster.com

And while I have no doubt that Lindsay ends up going to a good college anyway, I’d imagine that those two weeks did more to shape her as a young woman than battling wits with a bunch of eggheads about great literary and philosophic work ever could. She’s probably the kind of person UC-Santa Cruz are looking for to manage their Grateful Dead collection. At the very least, I’m sure she’s got some items to donate.





 

February 2012
S M T W T F S
« Jan    
 1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
26272829  

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 65 other followers