Miss Hokusai (2015, Hara Keiichi)

Miss Hokusai is the story of real person Katsushika Ōi. Well, stories of real person Katsushika Ōi. The anime is an episodic memoir mostly about Ōi (voiced by Anne Watanabe) and her younger sister, O-Nao (voiced by Shimizu Shion). The film doesn’t specify but they’re half-sisters, daughters to famous Japanese Edo period artist Katsushika Hokusai (Matsushige Yutaka). Ōi is also an artist, working under her father’s tutelage and when the movie’s not about her and her blind, sickly sister, it’s about her and her dad’s other slightly eccentric (and obviously all male) students.

Oh, and her love life. Almost the entire second act is about Ōi not being good at the erotica art because she’s a virgin. Except it’s all done in fades-to-black-in-between episodes (to the point you can tell when one is running too long), which would be more effective if it had a lyrical structure instead of just a herky-jerky epical.

The problem with Hokusai—other than the disaster third act—is the narrative distance. It’s not a character study of Ōi, it’s a mildly cloying look at the world she inhabits. Someone—screenwriter Maruo Miho or original mangaka Sugiura Hinako—utterly punts on the character study approach, which leads to the father ending up the most compelling character (and performance by a voice actor). The most compelling character overall is the sick sister because she’s literally just there for a combination of sympathy and period empathy (the kid’s convinced she’s going to someday end up in Hell because she’s blind). Shimizu’s good as the kid. None of the performances are bad, but Shimizu’s good enough to stand out. Otherwise it’s just about waiting for the father to speak because it’s always words of wisdom; Matsushige does a great job with it.

There are a lot of effective sequences once Ōi starts showing some agency (she’s got to worry about her dad’s professional contracts because he’s an artiste and can’t be bothered with money, wives, or blind daughters—but in a soulful way… they really should’ve gotten Mickey Rourke to do a dub); anyway. The directors do an all right job with a lot of it, leveraging a bunch of CGI backdrops—but not bad until the end when it’s too late anyway—and for a while Hokusai’s somewhat jarring rising action is effective.

Until the third act when the movie gives the best stuff to the father and reduces Ōi to a narrator of his biography, then her own. In that order, obviously. The finish is reductive and truncated in the worst ways. Then there’s some terrible CGI. Plus rock music.

Hokusai’s music is a whole thing. There’s rock to show how Ōi is really a modern girl living in nineteenth century Japan. Except the generic rock music’s for some eighties movie about white kids learning to dance in rural America. The rest of Fuuki Harumi’s music is fine; I wouldn’t be surprised if the rock was added for the American releases (even the Japanese language ones). Though I also wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t.

The animation’s solid. There are some highlights when visualizing the painting of the actual historical artists’ paintings.

After a very slow burn, Miss Hokusai goes into its third act at a reasonable high and then belly flops. It could’ve been a success of cloying melodrama. Instead it’s just respectably unsuccessful.

All Rise (2019) s02e16 – Leap of Faith

Once again, “All Rise” seems prepared for change. It’s not going to get change—CBS cancelled the show in between the previous episode airing and this one—but they’re once again primed for it. Everyone’s got something going on for the future, whether it’s Wilson Bethel once again feeling distressed at the D.A.’s office (at the end of last season, pre-Rona, it seemed like he might leave), Simone Missick’s politicking subplot returning, or Reggie Lee straight up leaving the show this episode. Guess he wasn’t going to be back in prospective season three.

But there’s also a lot of character development for Jessica Camacho and J. Alex Brinson (together and separately), which seems very appropriate given it was really their show for a while. Camacho’s got to decide not just between boys Brinson and Shalim Ortiz, but her future as well. Meanwhile, tying into Lee’s departure, Brinson’s probation period in the D.A.’s office is up and he and fellow newbie Audrey Corsa have to decide their futures. I love how they never made the probation thing a plot point—this episode picks up a few weeks after last, with Bethel and Lindsey Gort still on the outs and Lindsay Mendez working towards a plot line away from the courthouse too—but all of a sudden it’s a great deus ex machina for resolving Brinson’s cop who tells story line.

Brinson’s got a somewhat fun arc with Suzanne Cryer—one of the annoying D.A.s, i.e. everyone but Bethel and Lee—this episode. He and Camacho get an okay seemingly farewell scene together, though the show’s leaning hard on the exaggerated time frame since last episode.

There’s a big court case for Missick, involving “the entire tribe,” meaning best friend Bethel prosecuting (guess the “no Bethel in Missick’s courtroom” thing is out with two episodes to go, other best friend Ryan Michelle Bathe and her law partner, Gort, defending one client (the rich one), while Camacho defends the other client (the poor one). Gort’s mad at Bethel for walking out after she tells him she’s married, she’s mad at Bathe for kissing Bethel before the marriage divulge, and then she’s not happy with Missick really because Missick is the one who tattled about the kissing. Todd Williams—as Missick’s husband—is actually around this episode (making you wonder if they really just didn’t have him on the show because there wasn’t room yet added six new characters in the meantime) and he has some fun joking about Missick’s friends and frenemies predicament. Though he and Missick also have some pre-season three drama to get in.

Throw in Marg Helgenberger worried she’s rushing things with girlfriend Amy Acker and Steven Williams finally getting out of the basement to try a case—not to mention the trial case itself is engaging and takes up most of the characters’ times, as they line up new projects (the characters, not the actors)—and it’s a very full episode.

It’s really unfair “All Rise,” which can obviously flex when it needs to flex—this episode’s directed by Denitria Harris-Lawrence, with Lucy Luna and Harris-Lawrence getting the writing credit—not getting a shot at doing it when there’s not Rona and a pregnant lead.

But then of course CBS would cancel them. CBS sucks.

Fingers crossed the finale closes well, but it all of a sudden seems a safe bet.

The Little Things (2021, John Lee Hancock)

There’s a point where Rami Malek gets exasperated at having to stake out suspected serial killer Jared Leto and it’s the most real moment of The Little Things because it’s been exasperating having to watch Malek stake out suspected serial killer Jared Leto. The scene’s somewhere near the end of the film’s second act but since Things plods along at an almost impossibly bad pace and Leto’s so terrible and so obvious and so godawfully terrible you can’t imagine he’s actually the main suspect in the movie and writer and director Hancock really can’t be so inept….

Anyway. It’s hard to keep track of where one is during the experience of The Little Things. The film’s final surprise—only surprise—comes at the end, when it becomes tragically, comically unaware of itself. But then every subsequent scene is so predictable you can call out the reveals; Hancock even packages them up so you get to unwrap them and feel rather satisfied Hancock really can’t pull one over. No matter what, there’s nothing he can do competently. At least the universe makes sense.

The first act of Things is not terrible. It’s definitely slow and it soon becomes clear Thomas Newman’s score is going to be at best grating, but Denzel Washington’s fine and potentially better and Malek’s impressive in his showy part. Washington’s a disgraced former L.A. sheriff’s homicide detective, Malek’s his replacement. They meet because Washington—now deputy in the sticks—comes to town on a contrivance and his old partner Chris Bauer (who’s great, albeit barely in the movie) is now Malek’s partner and there’s another contrivance or two to get them together at a crime scene, where Malek gets to see Washington’s detecting magic.

So… Little Things is terrible procedural. The movie’s set in 1990 because Hancock can’t figure out how to make it hold water without cell phones and social media so how could he possibly do it with any pertinent technology. Plus he needs a phone booth to make it work. Multiple phone booths. Couldn’t figure it out with out them. Seriously, there have to be murder mystery subplots from 1990 soap operas more engaging than this movie. The first act makes it seem like we’re getting slow burn Washington and Malek performances and a cerebral-ish murder mystery.

Nope.

We get Leto, hair greased up, wearing tummy padding (Washington starts with some but it inexplicably goes away once he changes out of his uniform into his “detective again” outfit), giving a performance so obvious he wouldn’t have gotten cast on “Barney Miller” much less “Night Court” as a scuz bucket.

But given the film’s supporting cast—someone really liked “The Wire,” in addition to Bauer, Michael Hyatt plays Washington’s old coroner pal. Terry Kinney’s in it as the ostensibly churchy captain, who hates Washington for some mysterious reason we’ll find out about in stylized flashbacks right up until the finale for that one surprise; Kinney wasn’t on “The Wire” but “Oz.” So someone liked HBO shows from the aughts. He doesn’t want Washington working with Malek or vice versa because Malek’s his new protege. Malek even goes to his church. Maybe. The movie’s got this whole “Washington’s not the right kind of Christian” thing going on and it seems entirely insincere.

Because you’re giving Things the benefit of the doubt—Newman’s music aside, it’s technically competent plus. Like, John Schwartzman’s photography is technically excellent. It’s excellent photography of boring shots because Hancock’s tediously obvious in his composition but it looks good. And Robert Frazen’s editing is… not incompetent. Frazen cuts for Malek’s performance for much of the film, which is a fine showcase (makes Washington a bit of a bystander but it’s not bad per se). Then Leto shows up and it goes to pot because it’s never clear we’re actually supposed to be taking Leto’s absurd character seriously. The Little Things is supposed to be a serious movie, right? Like… Leto’s not giving a performance for a serious movie.

He’s comically bad. And once it’s clear it’s not a problem for Hancock, well, it’d take a lot for Things to make an actual plop in the toilet.

But it does. Hancock’s got that monster reveal and big plop.

Big plop.

Hyatt’s good, not in it enough; ditto Kinney. Natalie Morales’s in it in the background to be a female character who Malek gets to act out around? It’s a weird thing. It’s a bad part. But it’s still weird why she’s around. Like, Hancock isn’t just bad at writing procedurals or coming up with reveals, he’s also bad at writing the people. Like… if it weren’t for Washington and Malek, Things would be even shorter on personality, which seems impossible but they really do a lot. Even though they’re never more than fine together. Their characters are too thin, the writing’s too bad, Hancock’s direction’s too tepid.

The Little Things is trite tripe but I suppose Leto does succeed in proving he can hit absolute zero in terms of worthless acting.

All Rise (2019) s02e07 – Almost the Meteor

There has to be someone else who notices all the “All Rise” retcons; not just the little ones where it seems like someone’s going to be disgusted with being part of the carceral system but—and here’s a perfect example—the back and forth on whether or not Todd Williams is moving to L.A. to help wife (and ostensible lead) Simone Missick with their new baby.

Last episode she said he was already there and his transfer had come through, two episodes ago he wasn’t there yet, and this episode he’s just there for a bit before he leaves, no talking about the transfer at all. Despite Williams being profoundly useless on the show, this episode is easily his best, even if showcases why the show doesn’t need him. Even with a new baby.

This episode also goes out of its way to close up a bunch of outstanding subplots, like Wilson Bethel vs. lying, shooting civilian cops and Missick trying to find the girl who lost her backpack at the George Floyd protests. At least the Bethel one feels like they decided they couldn’t afford Anne Heche for a guest spot and rushed her out (ditto Williams, who the show seems to be dangling as an almost regular).

The stuff with Bethel and the cops doesn’t really work (mostly because they also drop the main cop villain who’d been around since before Heche) and doesn’t provide Bethel with any actual character development. The show goes out of its way for guest star Gabriel Cordell—the guy shot by the cops—to tell Bethel off about it, which is totally justified but also very strange Bethel thought he’d “done enough.”

The most successful—but no less cloying—story in the episode has J. Alex Brinson trying to get a youthful offender and victim in a healing circle when the victim (Coy Stewart) doesn’t want to testify in court. While it’s way too aspirational and Brinson seems way too naive, Brinson’s really trying with the acting and he’s got excellent support from Jessica Camacho (who’s basically a guest star at this point instead of third lead) and—for maybe the first time—Reggie Lee as his boss. Lee and Brinson click in a way Lee never does with Bethel.

Admittedly, a socially distanced, locked down, lead on maternity leave on the show (Missick), whatever’s going on with guest star budgets… “Rise” is still holding it together but just barely. It’s forgotten how to leverage Missick and Bethel, but has also downgraded Camacho as her acting has improved. For seven episodes into a sophomore season… it’s rough.

Doom Patrol (2019) s01e07 – Therapy Patrol

For “Doom Patrol,” there’s before Therapy Patrol and after Therapy Patrol. It doesn’t just have an exceptional reveal at the end, which informs the entire episode–Therapy is fragmented, following each character as they prepare for a morning’s team briefing—and the reveal doesn’t just explain the whole thing, director Rob Hardy and writer Neil Reynolds manage to package it in just the right way for optimum success.

But the episode’s also got great April Bowlby, who gets this awesome combination of comedic, dramatic, and special effects sequence. And Matt Bomer’s character is finally, finally, finally paying off. It’s episode seven, so it’s a tad delayed, but the show finally addresses all of the awkward flashbacks to Bomer’s past—a closeted Air Force flier trying to prove he’s got the right stuff—and turns out to be an amazing resolution. Or development. Especially once you start realizing what’s going on and the show just keeps at it until it’s the right moment.

The rest of the episode is pretty much the same way. Great Robotman stuff from Brendan Fraser and Riley Shanahan, great Joivan Wade stuff.

Wade’s performance is a little looser than it could be—especially given how great Bowlby and Bomer get—but it’s an exceptionally affecting subplot, which has Wade getting back onto social media for the first time since his accident four years before.

Meanwhile, Robotman is fixating on his former mechanic (I think) who was sleeping with his dead wife (who Robotman killed in a car accident) adopting his daughter. The showdown with the mechanic, played by Alan Heckner, figures into a couple of the other character threads. Including the big finish.

Diane Guerrero has some stuff too, which I’d been dreading, but it’s nowhere near as bad as I feared. It’s quick, in fact. They hurry through Guerrero’s stuff because there still needs to be time for the team to try talk therapy. So after doing all this great character subplots, the episode brings it all together and lets them talk amongst themselves….

Which might not be a great idea given their temperaments.

It’s a fantastic hour of television. Like I said… before Therapy Patrol, after Therapy Patrol. My expectations for the show have gone way up.

Doctor Who (2005) s04e13 – Journey’s End

Journey’s End opens with one of the series’s biggest cliffhanger cop-outs–and “Who” is all about the cliffhanger cop-out, so it’s actually a surprise. If the opening titles hadn’t already given it away, I guess.

This episode reveals the villains’ master plan and features them seemingly defeating Doctor David Tennant at every turn. If writer Russell T. Davies hadn’t introduced the deus ex machina early, there might be some tension about whether or not Tennant and company make it through. It’d just be so sad if he died now he’s reunited with Billie Piper.

Apparently it’s straight up they had a romantic—albeit unrequited—love, which isn’t how any of their episodes played especially not once she recruited ex-boyfriend Noel Clarke (who appears here) for the ride. But whatever. Make it all about giving Piper’s character a better ending.

Of course, Piper’s finale is nothing compared to Catherine Tate, who manages to get a more inglorious sendoff from the show than Christopher Eccleston—who just got forgotten like he’d done something wrong—harsh as his crime was not being David Tennant as Doctor Who, who himself wasn’t even David Tennant as Doctor Who yet.

Anyway.

No spoilers, but if you were intentionally writing “Doctor Who” to be full of layered misogyny, I don’t think it’d turn out any different than this episode turns out for Tate. It’s one hell of a flex from Davies.

The evil plan is kind of silly and better effects would help but not going to happen. What else… Camille Coduri is back too. She and Clarke team up with Elisabeth Sladen, which is closer to fun than you usually get with Coduri and Clarke.

It’s also one of those episodes where Tennant does his super-serious thing when he’s upset and it gets old really fast. And the way they end the season is just… unfortunate. It’s all really unfortunate.

Especially since Davies’s villains are better than they seemed last episode, occasionally even funny. More funny would’ve helped. More funny and a better subplot for Freema Agyeman, who manages to be a featured guest star but still get the shaft.

Because “Doctor Who” is about blowing off everyone but Piper, apparently, in a mad chase to bring her back to the show or something.

Whatever.

A friend of mine’s been worried I’m going to turn into one of those “Doctor Who” evangelizers who tells everyone to watch it.

I told him not to worry.

Doctor Who (2005) s04e12 – The Stolen Earth

I started The Stolen Earth with some reservations thanks to the previous episode—a de facto prologue—which managed to both waste and diss Catherine Tate simultaneously, but the first scene won me over a bit. It’s an exterior street scene with Tate and David Tennant and it’s actually shot well. There’s no telling how much better this show might be with better lighting from Ernest Vincze (in general, though this episode too).

Not to mention the CGI. There’s a lot of grand scale CGI this episode and… it’s not good. It’s not even on par with the non-CGI “Star Trek: The Next Generation,” which is a bummer. If “Who” were ever going to deliver on visuals, Stolen Earth would be the time to do it.

The episode kicks off the two-part (three-part including last episode, which should count but apparently doesn’t) season finale… it’s the end of the world. The end of all worlds.

Though we don’t see the all worlds, because Billie Piper’s already here on Earth and now it’s time for Tennant to find her and why isn’t he more excited (because it’s the end of the world, Donna).

Anyway.

Right after the opening scene—and the last good exterior lighting in the episode—the Earth disappears and the TARDIS stays in place. Cue opening credits, including the full “Doctor Who” revival cast (well, not Christopher Eccleston but whatever)—Freema Agyeman, John Barrowman, Elisabeth Sladen, and Billie Piper! In addition to Tate and Tennant, obviously. Written by revival creator and main writer Russell T. Davies!

The first half or so of the episode—which is really well-paced regardless of the questionable special effects–is the “Who” sidekicks trying to figure out what to do without the Doctor. Finally they all figure something out by working together—well, with the help of a special guest star, whose inclusion is nice but just points out how the show failed them (though failing your actors is the only singular thing about “Doctor Who: Phase II”)—and are able to get Tennant to Earth.

Tennant and Tate have been hanging out at the Shadow Proclamation, which isn’t a document but a (poorly CGI-rendered) place, where there are some aliens in charge and then the Rhino cops from last season. The Rhino cops are just comic relief then gone (they’re probably there for last episode’s teaser).

It’s time-killing with a lot more emphasis on the Earth sidekicks, with Piper sheltering with Tate’s family, Bernard Cribbins and Jacqueline King, and Agyeman reuniting with mum Adjoa Andoh (the other four people in the family are completely forgotten). Piper goes from being a badass interdimensional warrior last episode to mooning over absent Tennant, albeit with a giant gun (she looks like she’s walking around with a guitar).

Once the episode—just about halfway through, not even the cliffhanger—reveals the villains, things pick up a bit. Especially since Piper and Agyeman move on out of their respective shelters and the companion supporting cast energy drain goes away.

There are some predictable moments with the reuniting and the villains, with a bit of a cheap cliffhanger device too, but if you’re going to assemble a bunch of likable actors—almost Piper this time too—and have them dramatically goof off around sci-fi, you could do a whole lot worse than Stolen Earth.

Also, am I the only one who thinks “Torchwood” crossover guest star Gareth David-Lloyd looks like Zach Morris?

Doctor Who (2005) s04e11 – Turn Left

Welp, figured out what Catherine Tate was doing while last episode filmed and David Tennant was on his own… she was filming this episode, with Tennant now the Superman III Margot Kidder.

Tate goes to a fortune teller (Chipo Chung, in a particularly inglorious return to the show after she was a major supporting character last season, albeit in full costume) who tricks her into never meeting the Doctor in the first place—two Christmas specials ago—and thereby changing the fate of the universe itself.

So what we get—in addition to this alternate history to the show’s timeline, where London becomes Nazi Germany before a further dystopian thing and it gets so bad even White British people become refugees—is Tate being really kind of annoying. Not good. Very weak character. Turns out if she didn’t meet Tennant, she would’ve gotten more and more shallow and more and more ignorant of current events—be they aliens or concentration camps—and just miserable to be around.

Though she does eventually patch things up a bit with mum Jacqueline King, who’s not good in a more dramatic role. Makes you wonder what the auditions are like for the companion’s mom part—“we want you to be unlikable no matter what the context.” Bernard Cribbins is fine but he’s no longer cute as Tate’s grandfather. He’s one note. Having your granddaughter go off and save the universe while traveling through space and time didn’t make Cribbins or King any more interesting, apparently.

Or Russell T. Davies just writes thin characters and they cast people who can’t add enough.

I haven’t even gotten to the big deal of the episode: Billie Piper is back. She’s back across dimensions not telling anyone her name so there’s not a dimensional collapse or whatever and she’s trying to convince Tate to help her save the universe.

I mean, I guess the episode’s well-paced? Like, there’s a lot. When Tennant gets back from Bermuda or whatever, he’s got a bit of time so they can set up the next episode. See, Tate’s got a message from Piper and it’s the end of the world and time for a “Doctor Who” crossover event (based on the upcoming episode teaser). Though presumably not across multiple shows.

Also, Tennant also realizes Tate’s subplots are all about alternate universes so he thinks it might be important, which is of course different than a lazy, reliable way to gin up an episode, give your lead an alternate life to play.

Anyway.

Two more episodes to the season, I’ll bet it’s a “two-parter,” as Turn Left doesn’t count enough to be a proper first part apparently.

Piper’s better than I remember her, though she also doesn’t have the entourage. We shall see.

Doctor Who (2005) s04e07 – The Unicorn and the Wasp

Again, not going to look into it, but I’ll bet there’s some kind of story with the Susie Liggat-produced episodes. She does like three a season, then nothing until the next season. And they sometimes more involve women, sometimes not. This one seemingly more involves women because the done-in-one companion is Agatha Christie, played by Fenella Woolgar. In some ways, it reminds of last season’s Shakespeare episode as far as….

Oh.

Writer Gareth Roberts wrote last season’s Shakespeare episode. Not a Liggat.

Anyway. Roberts uses the same joke about David Tennant or his companion (Freema Agyeman then, Catherine Tate now) making references to the guest starring author’s oeuvre before that work had been created.

It works better with Shakespeare than Agatha Christie. Especially since the episode just serves to show how little Christie actually has to do with the genre she helped create. Outside the occasional Poirot or Marple namedrop—wait, are they all BBC, does BBC have corporate synergy—Roberts doesn’t come up with anything particularly Christie-y. It seems like he’s doing a riff on Clue(do), with Christopher Benjamin as Colonel Mustard (Hugh here), Ian Barritt as Professor Plum (Peach here), and so on. It’s not exact, but here’s a Professor Peach in the observatory with a lead pipe line or something. Maybe two of them. If Roberts is trying to do an homage to Christie, it’s a peculiar one; it’s to the more familiar knock-offs.

The beginning of the episode, when it’s doing the mystery genre thing, is a lot better than the end of the episode, which involves intergalactic wasps, bad memory transmissions, and a shockingly bad Felicity Jones. She’s in the episode from relatively early but doesn’t get anything to do until the big detective reveal scene with Tennant as Nick Charles. It’s an “eh” scene overall but Jones sinks it a little more.

Also bad is Tom Goodman-Hill.

Felicity Kendal is great as the Colonel’s wife and lady of the house; she’s the one throwing the party for Woolgar. The episode takes place at the “Silver Spoons” house, just before Christie’s infamous disappearance. The episode does really poorly with that subplot.

The episode goes wrong and never corrects. Roberts’s script has a first act but nothing else… especially not for Woolgar. It seems like Christie should be a choicer part.

Fargo (2014) s04e02 – The Land of Taking and Killing

If last episode was a big Miller’s Crossing homage—though there’s a big Miller’s nod here too—when this episode opens with a prison break, I had to wonder if it was going to be all Raising Arizona nods or if it was a one-off.

Seems to have been a one-off. I wonder if Noah Hawley’s going to pick an obvious homage to a non-Fargo Coen Brothers every episode or if their way of doing prison break establishing shots is now just the norm. The prison breakers are Kelsey Asbille and Karen Alridge. Alridge is narrator/protagonist/“Fargo”’s Scout E'myri Crutchfield’s maternal aunt. I get Hawley probably doesn’t want to go down the road too far but I really want to understand how Crutchfield’s white Christian dad, Andrew Bird, reconciles Asbille and Alridge being a couple. There’s not overt religiosity but it’s implied. There’s also some more weird stuff with Bird “handling” upset wife Anji White, which is either a creative misstep or full bad choice.

It’s hard to say where “Fargo” is going to shake out on those creative missteps versus bad choices. This episode introduces two new, presumably regular cast members—in addition to Alridge and Asbille, who just hang out all episode because they’re on the run—Salvatore Esposito and Jack Huston. Esposito’s great. When he and Chris Rock face off, “Fargo” works in a way the show can’t even hint at when it’s Jason Schwartzman. There’s this scene where you realize Rock is able to do Don Corleone without being hacky about it and Schwartzman seems like he’s in a really bad “Saturday Night Live” sketch butchering an Al Pacino impression.

Esposito’s Schwartzman’s brother. They’re going to be fighting for control of the family while they’ve also got to contend with Rock. There’s a brokered peace—they’ve traded sons, but it’s not really important yet. Also apparently unimportant are the female relations of the gang bosses (seriously, didn’t Hawley have time to think about Irishman before they went into production).

Huston’s a cop with OCD, which the show uses in the place where they’d usually be using it as an ableist joke but instead using that space to show how people in 1950 were even crappier than people today. But it’s, like, the same time and space in the narrative as it’d be for a cheap joke.

Huston’s okay. So far. Maybe he’ll get better. Same goes for Ben Whishaw, an Irish guy the Italian mob basically fostered after they took out the Irish gang. Whishaw’s fine. So far.

Maybe he’ll get better.

Like Jessie Buckley. Buckley gets a little better this episode, nimbly keeping up with the rollercoaster Hawley rushes the character through, presumably to get her in a different spot for what’s next. And there’s a great cliffhanger with it. Though possibly the second cliffhanger makes it moot.

What strikes me most in this season is Hawley’s direction. It’s phenomenal. Outside the miscast actors and whatnot. It’s fantastic. His sense of pacing is breathtaking—there’s a scene with Glynn Turman and Esposito where all the ingredients spark and it’s this perfect scene. So clearly “Fargo”’s still got its greatness… it just might not be consistent or sustained.