American Gothic (1995) s01e12 – Ring of Fire

Paige Turco has been one of “American Gothic”’s more unsteady actors to this point. She’s had some good moments, but she’s had more uneven ones, and the show doesn’t seem to know what to do with her in general. She vaguely flirts with Jake Weber, vaguely hate-flirts with Gary Cole, and vaguely hangs out with little cousin Lucas Black. But her whole arc about uncovering the secrets of her parents’ deaths? It’s been stalled for ages.

Until now.

For better but really just worse, “Gothic”’s resolving Turco’s history arc. Left unresolved will be relationships with Cole and Weber—though Turco’s first scene with Weber has her tracing his hands with her fingers, which is shockingly intimate. Especially when Weber later on makes fun of her dead parents.

After discovering she’s got repressed memories—which appear in “Gothic”’s established vision visual motif—caused by tweenage trauma. There’s also the Private Ryan thing where Turco’s recovered memories include events she wasn’t present for. Unless, of course, she’s psychic and could have connections to her family home.

CBS didn’t air Ring of Fire (at all, not even summer burn-off), which means Turco’s history story was left entirely unresolved. But it should’ve come about halfway through the season, which makes sense. They’ve explored some of the other characters; now it’s Turco’s turn.

Only she’s been in the creepy little town for months. This episode, we find out she hasn’t been back to her parents’ house since returning in the pilot. She also didn’t investigate whether or not her family’s summer cottage was still around. She hasn’t even asked the nice old lady at the newspaper any questions about her parents’ death. She just tells everyone she’s investigating Cole for it but hasn’t actually done anything.

Cole’s fed up with the slander and the crimes against property—Turco breaks into his house, marking the first time we’ve seen the police chief’s mansion, and it’s pretty impressive. However, Cole’s been talking about it since the pilot, so it’s also a little late. Turco can’t find any incriminating evidence sitting out in the open so Cole offers to tell her the truth if she asks nicely.

Fast forward through some visions and nightmares—and the episode male gazing at Turco, who’s spending the entire episode traumatized in one way or another. Director Lou Antonio does a terrible job this episode, but he’s also super duper sure to peep a glance at Turco whenever possible. Antonio’s composition is occasionally shudder-worthy and causes plenty of jarring cuts.

Michael R. Perry and Stephen Gaghan get the writing credit. Unfortunately, it’s not a good script. Not just because of the nothing-burger (except maybe some kissing cousins) of a reveal for Turco’s subplot but also how the episode characterizes everyone else on the show. Weber and Black are the worst, but Cole’s a little different too. Brenda Bakke and Nick Searcy show up for the episode’s “subplot,” which has Bakke jealous of Cole and Turco and Cole supposedly unaware of it. It’s two and a half scenes. It’s nothing.

On the one hand, CBS shouldn’t have messed up the air order… on the other, it’s a terrible episode.

American Gothic (1995) s01e10 – The Beast Within

The Beast Within starts with guest star Jeff Perry looking at his watch, and the date is very clearly 9/25, but it’s episode ten (in the ostensibly official—enough—post-cancellation viewing order), and there’s no way episode ten is airing the last week of September. It only matters because last episode ended with at-one-time protagonist Jake Weber seemingly leaving the show. Or not leaving the show. Or leaving the show.

Weber’s here this episode, but it’s a very “Must See TV” type of “American Gothic.” Show creator Shaun Cassidy gets the writing credit, which has AWOL Marine Perry taking Gary Cole hostage along with Weber, Paige Turco, and Lucas Black in the hospital. So, basically, “American Gothic” Die Hard for deputy Nick Searcy (who’s got the added family drama as Perry’s his brother). But for Cole, Weber, Turco, and Black, it’s “American Gothic” Speed because a bomb will go off if Perry loses consciousness.

It’s half a Searcy character development episode and half successful “Sweeps Week” television. Not quite real-time, but there are constant references to the clock because there’s a countdown too. Cassidy’s script has it all done somewhat stagily without ever coming off stagy, just incredibly precise and controlled. It’s the most successful “Gothic” just in terms of execution, especially since Cassidy still manages to frame it as a (slight) mythology episode—Black starts the episode having a dream about Cole and Perry, which later proves relevant. But only for Black’s overall character development, which is an outstanding choice. And it gives Black some great material.

The best performance in the episode’s Searcy, though Perry’s a close second, and it’s also a good episode for Turco. The hostage situation and potentially relying on Cole shakes her up. Cole and Black are great, of course, and Weber’s got a little. Not a lot, certainly not what’d you expect after he just decided to come back to work after not wandering literal purgatory. But a little. Maybe Within is in the right place in viewing order.

Director Michael Lange does better staging the community theater Die Hard (I mean it in a nice way) than with the pseudo-real-time countdowns. He knows how to focus on the actors and their performances, not so much the connective tissue. Like, whoever convinced them to go with booming clock ticks to amp up the tension very obviously should’ve been ignored. Or they should’ve called it For Whom the Bells Toll.

But other than the mid-nineties style choices, it’s a phenomenal episode. Cassidy and company take it as accessible and potent as possible… and the network aired it in the post-cancellation summer burn-off.

Thanks, CBS.

American Gothic (1995) s01e08 – Strong Arm of the Law

It’s all hands on deck for this episode (except for Brenda Bakke), like everyone wanted a chance to work with guest stars Matt Craven and Richard Edson. Craven and Edson are in town to shake down the local business owners. They’ve got a couple more in their gang, doofus Jim Gloster and rapist Joseph Granda. Initially, they give off big ex-con carpetbagger vibes as they’re from Michigan, but once we find out their actual backstory….

Well, “Gothic”’s got its sense of humor, after all.

They don’t show up in the first scene, though. Instead, the cold open is Lucas Black and Christopher Fennell snooping around a house, hoping to see a girl taking a bath. When he goes to peek, however, Black witnesses a murder. By pig men.

Post-credits, the boarding house (now apparently run by a white lady instead of the Black woman from before) has four new guests who take a suspicious interest in Black, which Jake Weber doesn’t seem to notice.

The episode ends up being a Gary Cole one, as he has to deal with the interlopers, but for the first act, it seems like it’ll be more balanced between the cast. Deputy Nick Searcy and reporter Paige Turco, not to mention the townsfolk, think Cole brought in the out-of-town muscle to remind folks they need to be more appreciative of their demonic sheriff. Weber’s got an autopsy of their murder victim, which seems like it ought to tie him in, especially since Black starts snooping on his fellow boarding house guests.

At one point, he’s got to use anti-demonic powers (no Sarah Paulson this episode, either), and it’s a tepid power, even given “Gothic”’s capabilities as a mid-nineties TV show. But Black versus the gang is toothless; even though we’ve established they’re vicious killers, they’re mostly just bullies and within limits.

As Cole starts facing off with them and manipulating them, the rest of the cast and their potential subplots fade away one by one.

There’s some good acting from the regular cast—Cole, Searcy, Black, Weber; Turco gets a really shitty part this episode, and then they whiff on its execution. I’m not sure director Mike Binder is a good fit for network television. And then Craven and Edson are fantastic, though differently. Edson’s just a hoot, but Craven’s phenomenal. The whole episode seems like it’s setting up a showdown for Craven and Cole.

Then it doesn’t, which just makes the ending way too pat.

It’s a good forty-five minutes of television but a middling “Gothic.”

American Gothic (1995) s01e06 – Potato Boy

CBS didn’t air Potato Boy during “American Gothic”’s original run. It started the network shuffling the show order in earnest, presumably to make the show more accessible to new viewers. Since it’s television—network television—they somehow managed to skip a literal onboarding episode. Gary Cole narrates Potato Boy’s first act, clueing the viewers in on the ground situation. The episode deep dives into two and a half characters in addition to the youthful (“Gothic”) adventures of recently orphaned Lucas Black. It’s an awesome done-in-one.

Of course, the network screwed it up.

Michael Nankin gets the writing credit and directs; Nankin’s the best direction on a “Gothic” episode so far. He likes watching the actors, which is essential given the character examination aspect of the episode, but also as a contrast for Cole. Everyone else feels, and we see them feel; Cole’s like a lizard. He’s calm, motionless, then he acts. And he’s trying to pass those lessons on to Black.

Their arc in this episode’s disturbing. Black seems closer to drinking the dark side Kool-Aid than ever; whenever he gets this close to Cole, Sarah Paulson usually shows up, but she’s got an offscreen subplot involving the title character.

The Potato Boy is an urban legend amongst the youth of Trinity proper. Being raised in the country, Black isn’t informed—his pals, Christopher Fennell and Evan Rachel Wood, have to warn him about the mutant child who does nothing but sing hymns from his attic cell. Ghostly sister Paulson visits Black and becomes enchanted with the singing and disappointed in her apathetic brother. Paulson comes back a few times in the episode, but she’s off having the supernatural adventure of the episode, which they haven’t got the budget for.

Black also bonds with reverend John Bennes after legal guardian Tina Lifford takes Black to church for the first time. Bennes figures into Black’s A-plot and Brenda Bakke’s B-plot. Bakke and Searcy alternate the B-plots. The episode does a complex examination of Bakke, subtly and not; it’s a fantastic episode for her, easily her best, but also the best female part on “Gothic” so far. Meanwhile, Searcy’s in therapy, except he can’t talk too much about the details of his working relationship with Cole. Searcy’s phenomenal.

What with covering up Cole murdering Paulson and all.

Then Jake Weber’s got a C-plot, which also ties into Black’s plot and Bennes’s church. Nankin gets some great acting out of Weber too.

Heck of a lot of great performances this episode—Black, Bakke, Searcy, Paulson, Weber, and, of course, Cole (who’s so good narrating even though the narration’s too much and not enough you miss it once it’s gone). “American Gothic”’s a very special show and Potato Boy’s its most successful episode.

Obviously, CBS bumped it.

American Gothic (1995) s01e05 – Dead to the World

This episode’s got five writers credited, apparently two different teams (Robin Green and Mitchell Burgess on one, Shaun Cassidy, Michael R. Perry, and Stephen Gaghan on the other). Guild arbitration or extreme fairness? Regardless, World works better than almost anything else with five credited writers; the episode’s all “Gothic”’s strengths, none of its… well, weaknesses is a little extreme (though not inaccurate given last episode’s teenage girl objectification issues). None of those problems here, though Barnaby Carpenter is back from last episode, now running the town junkyard.

He’s helping Paige Turco investigate the accidental death of her childhood friend, played by Melissa McBride. Now, we, the audience, know McBride’s death wasn’t accidental. The episode opens in flashback; McBride was dating Gary Cole (then still a deputy, which is an interesting timeline), and he had her snooping on just-born Lucas Black. McBride figures out he’s the baby’s daddy and freaks out, so he drives her into the river to drown her quiet.

The opening flashback, with the sped-up video, is the worst-looking sequence in the episode. James. A. Contner is probably the series’s best director so far, definitely for Turco. Turco’s intrepid reporter is still too bold but has a complex layer of compassion beneath it. Once she starts questioning McBride’s mom, played by Linda Pierce (quietly and eventually devastating as a Southern belle caricature), Turco pretty quickly figures out Cole’s involved somehow. Only when she confronts him he’s not too worked up about the implications.

Cole and Black have the B plot. Black’s in an archery competition with his best friend, Christopher Fennell, and Cole tries to teach him winning’s more important than anything else. So it’s a supernatural villain figure trying to instill toxic masculinity in Black, juxtaposed against the C plot, where sheriff’s deputy Nick Searcy tries (and fails) to protect his ex-wife and son from her bastard new husband (a too soap opera-y John Shearin).

Meanwhile, Sarah Paulson can just watch sadly as Black falls into Cole’s clutches. She and Black have an exceptional scene where he asks her about getting smarter after dying—which she’s done from his perspective, but maybe not her own. The show hasn’t gotten into the rules of Paulson’s spirit existence at all, which allows for big swings (and hits).

Then Brenda Bakke and Jake Weber are both around a bit too. Weber is the one telling Searcy about Shearin being abusive, while Bakke’s using her role as school teacher to screw up Fennell’s chances in the contest. We finally get to see her and Cole canoodling, and it’s fantastic. We also finally get to see the new sheriff’s department set, which is solid; it’s nice they’ve got a recurring location.

There are some 1995 TV bumps, mostly the guest star acting or just the general shot composition, but World’s finally got everything clicking, even if the regular cast’s too big for an episode. Cole’s particularly great this episode, Black and Searcy are fantastic, Turco’s coming along, Bakke’s finally to act even if briefly, ditto Weber.

“Gothic”’s great.

American Gothic (1995) s01e02 – A Tree Grows in Trinity

Tree picks up immediately after the pilot, only it’s been however many months since they shot the pilot, and now they’re filming for fall airdates. Lucas Black and Sarah Paulson are both a little visibly older, Jake Weber’s got a completely different haircut, Paige Turco’s costumes are better, and Gary Cole’s even eviler.

With the previous episode, I was worried the lackluster mid-nineties CGI special effects and bewildering “horror” direction would set the tone for the series itself, regardless of the director returning. Unfortunately, the regular series seems to be doing more bad CGI effects and editing transitions with less money for the effects. More bad effects. It looks goofy.

But it also doesn’t matter. The show survives the bad special effects, the unimpressive direction (Michael Katleman), and photography (Stephen McNutt). It excels, in fact. Not despite its technical failings but indifferent to them. Once the actors start talking, nothing else matters.

The show’s split between the good guys—Black, Weber, Turco—and the bad guys—Cole, Brenda Bakke—with Paulson detached because she’s an ethereal being. Everyone else is a pawn in some way or another, most obviously Nick Searcy, who’s got a great, awkward scene with Weber to kick the episode off.

There are a couple guest stars this episode: Arnold Vosloo (still during his “Renaissance Productions-only” phase) and David Lenthall. Vosloo’s an out-of-town reporter who’s got one heck of a story to tell, while Lenthall is the county coroner. He’s got to do autopsies on Paulson and her father, except Cole doesn’t want anyone finding out he snapped Paulson’s neck and whatever happened with the dad. And Lenthall owes Cole.

Paulson doesn’t take kindly to Lenthall screwing up her autopsy and letting her murderer go free, so she causes a supernatural incident in the morgue. It’s so much bad special effects at once—and Lenthall’s bad—it seems like the show’s going to derail. But then the regular cast takes over, and things smooth out again.

While Weber’s not on the level of Black, Cole, or Searcy, he takes it up a notch this episode as he gets to interact with Bakke for the first time. There are some nice muted character reveals and development, and Weber works them in beautifully. And Turco’s better, though she’s still just hanging around. Bakke’s Southern belle femme fatale is captivating, even if the characterization’s not without its issues.

Series creator Shaun Cassidy again gets the script credit, with the episode really finishing up the pilot responsibilities. It might’ve been nice for CBS to let them do a two-hour premiere… or at least give them enough money to keep the effects on the same level. But, no, “American Gothic” appears it will have some lousy mid-1990s TV show CGI.

And I do not care.

Because the rest of it, even when the cast’s interacting with that lousy CGI, more than makes up for it. I’d forgotten TV could look terrible and still be great, thanks to the actors and writers, back when it was more filmed stage productions than segmented movies.

Anyway.

“American Gothic” gets great by the end of this episode. It’s incredible.

American Gothic (1995) s01e01

I was happier than I should be to discover executive producer Sam Raimi didn’t direct this pilot episode of “American Gothic.” Raimi and Rob Tapert’s Renaissance Pictures produced the series (for Universal and CBS), so I just figured Raimi directed the first one. But, no, it’s Peter O’Fallon. Instead of talking about Raimi being unable to direct a TV show, I just get to say O’Fallon’s an exceptionally mediocre TV director. It’s not entirely his fault; it’s the mid-nineties, and it’s TV. There’s hacky CGI to shoot for, there’s some video footage split in, and there’s whatever’s going on with Ernest Holzman’s photography. Hopefully, O’Fallon won’t be the show’s template but given his bare competence doing a genre show with supernatural special effects… it’s kind of amazing when the show gets great.

The show doesn’t get great and stay great; it just has enough great scenes, sometimes cut short by commercial breaks (still the bane of narrative flow), sometimes just gone wrong. The show gets through its rocky but compelling start by the halfway mark. In time for Paige Turco’s graveyard exposition dump to be forgiven, even as O’Fallon misses they’ve dressed Turco in a Southern Gothic hooded cape thing, and he doesn’t know how to shoot for it. “Close-ups O’Fallon” is not an inappropriate nickname.

Thank goodness he’s not back directing.

Shaun Cassidy gets the script and creator credit for “Gothic.” He’s responsible for the episode’s considerable successes, though it’s all about getting it to the right actors. Just one episode in and “Gothic” has four outstanding performances. Top-billed Gary Cole’s murderous Southern sheriff, garbage human being Nick Searcy as his conflicted deputy, Sarah Paulson as the traumatized, non-verbal girl Cole murders in the third scene (which Searcy witnesses), and Lucas Black as Paulson’s little brother. Paulson has the best moment in the episode; now a spirit, she’s called Black back to their house (and her murder scene), so she can show him Cole rape their mother ten years ago, watching his own conception.

The mom’s long dead, their dad (Sonny Shroyer) cracked in the first scene and went after Paulson with a shovel—Cole was being opportunistic in killing her—and Black’s got to know the truth if there’s going to be a show.

The episode also introduces the good guys—Jake Weber as a town doctor, a Yankee moved down South to better the place, and Turco. Turco is Black’s adult cousin (we don’t get the family tree just yet) who left town when her parents mysteriously died in a fire… their bodies discovered by Cole, who must’ve been a teenager or something. Unclear at this point.

Then Brenda Bakke is Cole’s femme fatale accomplice. She’s the good girl school teacher by dawn, Southern vixen by night. Weber and Bakke are both quite good; they’re just quite good for 1995 television. They’re not transcending like the four top-tier performances.

Turco’s just okay. It’s not a great part this episode. She’s literally inserting herself into the plot, and there’s not room. She’s got some good moments, though. Unfortunately not the graveyard monologue… Five Easy Pieces it’s not.

At the start of the episode, I was more than a little concerned with the nineties Renaissance Studios mise-en-scene (i.e., brightly lighted, artless action sequences and lousy CGI), but “Gothic” comes through thanks to writing and casting. I do hope future directors are a little better with composition, establishing shots, and spotlighting performances; the cast shouldn’t have to hoist the whole thing up, regardless of their ability.

The Best of Enemies (2019, Robin Bissell)

Chris Rock has a joke about waiting to see if the evening news—it’s an old joke—report on a crime is going to have a Black perpetrator or a White one, just so he (Rock, a Black man) can figure out if his white coworkers are going to ask him if he knew the perp (if he’s Black).

In other words, I had to check and see if Best of Enemies writer, director, and producer Robin Bissell was a White person. He is. He’s also fifty, which… isn’t a demographic to be making The Best of Enemies in 2019. Or ever, really. There was never a good time for a fifty year-old White guy to make a movie about a North Carolina Klan leader in the early seventies realizing Black people are people because they can be nice to him. Best of Enemies is basically the reverse of those White “liberals” who tell Black people to stop complaining or they’ll have to vote GOP next time when, in reality, you know they all voted for Gary Johnson or Jill Stein anyway. It’s about lead Sam Rockwell—the aforementioned Klan leader—realizing not just Black people are people but also how the system is rigged against poor Whites and Blacks alike and that rigging seems to be the point.

Less on the second part, however, because it might be interesting to see that development in Rockwell’s life and the film avoids any interesting developments.

I’m going at Enemies a little harder than usual for a few reasons. First, Taraji P. Henson is top-billed. She’s the Black woman community organizer who works with Rockwell and contributes to his ability to see the humanity in… you know, humans. Rah for him, sure, but a movie? Not sure it’s worth a movie. Especially since the movie sets itself up to be this great anti-buddy buddy pic between Henson and Rockwell and it’s not. Henson, it’ll turn out somewhere in the very lengthy two hour plus runtime, is red herring. She’s got nothing to do in the movie. Not even supporting player scraps after the movie shoves Rockwell into the lead. So The Best of Enemies, which ostensibly is about two “born enemies”—a Klan leader and, you know, a Black person—becoming something together, is really just a White Savior movie for Rockwell. And he’s not even the most interesting White Savior in the picture.

John Gallagher Jr.’s the most interesting White Savior. He’s just in a bit part, which is too bad because he’s a lot more useful a character than some of the bigger stunt casts in bit parts—fifth-billed Wes Bentley, for example; around to be the creepy, greasy Klan guy who you think is going to crack and kill someone.

And then there’s Nick Searcy, who’s—as usual—quite good. This time he’s quite good as a piece of shit upper class racist who gets Rockwell’s poor White Klan boys to do his dirty work. Is the film aware of… Nick Searcy’s optics? Like. You can leave a lot at the door. You can’t leave Nick Searcy at the door. It’s not a good enough part for it really to be worth it. Though no one’s part is really good enough.

Henson’s great. Even after Bissell’s scared to give her scenes with other Black people. Or maybe he’s not scared. Maybe he just doesn’t have the interest in her story. She and Rockwell are working on a charrette, which doesn’t make the Apple dictionary (says something, I imagine), and is “any collaborative session in which a group of designers drafts a solution to a design problem.” The problem in Enemies is school integration. Rockwell and Henson end up co-chairs, forced into working together by facilitator Babou Ceesay. Cessay’s in town doing the charrette because the judge doesn’t want to have to rule on school integration and wants to pass the buck.

It’s not a metaphor for the film’s proclivity for passing the buck, but only because Bissell wouldn’t know how to do a metaphor.

Technically, the film’s fine. It’s clearly on too low of a budget to do the period well. Almost no extras in the exteriors of strangely empty streets and so on. Bissell’s not bad at composition. He’s perfectly pedestrian, which does the film no help in getting over the budget constraints. Presumably most of the money went to Rockwell and Henson, who both do their best, but… there’s only so far they can go with the script and what the script gives them. Or, in both their cases, what the script doesn’t give them. Henson just doesn’t get material. Rockwell gets material but no character development arc. The whole point of the movie is shitbag racists are people too but Bissell never wants more than a caricature from Rockwell. Maybe a 3D one, but still just a caricature. You can see Rockwell getting bored in Enemies. The part doesn’t give him anything to do. Not really. Not sincerely. Some of his best scenes in the movie ought to be the ones where he’s just hanging out with wife Anne Heche, only there’s so much expository dumping in those scenes—because Heche isn’t a big-time racist, she just loves one. So she makes him different than the Bentleys or the Searcys of the film. Her and Rockwell having a son with Downs in the South in 1971 and still, you know, loving him. Best of Enemies exploits its cast in a lot of ways—after a while, if she’s not just building up Rockwell’s humanity, Henson’s part is reduced to crying helplessly—after a certain point, Bissell can’t even pretend he’s not just objectifying anguish… but no one gets it worse than Kevin Iannucci as the son. Bissell’s a callous filmmaker.

Probably because he can’t figure out how to make the movie work. Possibly because it’s not Rockwell’s movie but Bissell can’t imagine it any other way.

It’s a waste of the cast. Maybe not Bentley but everyone else. Bentley’s fine he’s just not promising. Everyone else is at least promising. Like Bruce McGill. Or Nicholas Logan, who’s creepy as the bland blond Klan redneck (versus Bentley’s greaser one, who needs a Johnny Reb cap to be distinct).

Really good songs on the soundtrack. Seventies stuff. Because they were listening to early Bowie in South Carolina in 1971. It’s Bissell bumbling his way through softening the audience with nostalgia.

Is there a good movie in the true story? Probably. The clips over the end credits of the real people Rockwell and Henson are playing is a better movie than the previous two hours and five minutes and they’re just clips.

There’s some good acting work in the film and Jeannine Oppewall’s production design is good and whoever did the line producing did well, but… The Best of Enemies is way too shallow. Bissell knows there’s a movie in the story, he just can’t find it. Especially not in his script.