Tuesday, February 11, 2014

It's Easy to Eat Up Downton Abbey

Early last year, I began seeing a lot of references the Masterpiece Theatre program Downton Abbey on Facebook. I’d heard of it from watching award shows and had even caught bits of an episode that my brother was watching, but I knew it was a show I’d have to watch from the beginning, and despite my love of Maggie Smith, I wasn’t sure it was my cup of tea. Still, all the passionate posts intrigued me, as did a charming Sesame Street parody, so when I received the first season as an early birthday gift, it didn’t take long for this surprise hit to become a viewing priority. While it took me a few episodes to become fully enthralled with this tale of an aristocratic family in early 20th-century England and the many servants who attend to them, by the end of the first season I was thoroughly hooked.

The series follows the old-fashioned Robert (Hugh Bonneville), his more forward-thinking American wife Cora (Elizabeth McGovern) and their three daughters: aloof Mary (Michelle Dockery), awkward Edith (Laura Carmichael) and idealistic Sybil (Jessica Brown Findlay). In the first episode, the household is thrown into a tizzy by the death of the heir to Robert’s title, who is also Mary’s intended. They are forced to find a new heir, as Robert’s daughters are not allowed to inherit, and that leads to the arrival of distant cousin Matthew Crawley (Dan Stevens) and his widowed mother Isobel (Penelope Wilton). Also part of the family is Robert’s tart-tongued mother Violet (Smith), who gets most of the best one-liners in the show, and meddlesome sister Rosamund (Samantha Bond), who is seen only occasionally.

This family is part of a dying tradition of expansive estates that function as self-sustaining communities, employing numerous people to work in various types of service throughout the household. At the top of the pecking order at Downton is the dignified Mr. Carson (Jim Carter), who is stern and demanding but fundamentally decent, and maternal Mrs. Hughes (Phyllis Logan), who brings a soft touch and a wry sense of humor to balance out Carson’s stiff demeanor.

The warmth and respect, as well as occasional teasing, between the two makes them an enjoyable foundation for the “downstairs” portion of the group, which also includes the frequently frazzled cook Mrs. Patmore (Lesley Nicol) and her sweetly blundering apprentice Daisy (Sophie McShera), as well as schemers Thomas Barrow (Rob James-Collier) and Miss O’Brien (Siobhan Finneran) and passionate Irish chauffeur Tom Branson (Allen Leech). There’s also the efficient and stout-hearted Anna (Joanne Froggatt), who is unfailingly kind and courageous, and Robert’s old war chum John Bates (Brendan Coyle), an honorable man with a limp and a shrouded past.

Each of these characters, as well as several others who come into the picture, is richly drawn, becoming more complex by the episode. Adding to the appeal of the show is creator and writer Julian Fellowes’ tendency toward incredibly twisty plots, as well as the general fascination with the era and this particular way of living. Historical events have significant impacts on what happens to these characters; this first season begins with the sinking of the Titanic and ends with the start of World War I, both of which throw the house into turmoil. Long arcs involving family scandal, potential romances and the continued economic viability of the abbey emerge, continuing on into later seasons.

Since our first time through the series a year ago, my fiancé Will and I have re-watched many of the episodes multiple times with my mom, our friend Crissy and most recently my dad, who finally got lured into the series once we started watching season four along with the rest of America. There’s a high rewatchability factor, and going back to catch clues foreshadowing later developments is a lot of fun. It’s also a kick to scour each episode for lines that make good stand-alone quotes, with the understanding that nearly every word out of snarky Violet’s mouth is pure gold. It took us a little while to catch onto this craze, but once we checked in, we knew Downton Abbey was a destination we would want to visit many more times.

Friday, January 10, 2014

Freshman Felicity Porter Navigates the Complexities of College

Watching television series together has been a staple of my relationship with my fiancé Will. The first we tackled was The Wonder Years, mostly long-distance. It was about a year later that we began diving into Felicity, another series about young people finding their way in the world. My only prior familiarity with the show was as a result of Art Garfunkel, who debuted two of his songs from the album Everything Waits to be Noticed on the series. I remember making a point to watch those episodes, but I don’t remember anything about them except for the songs. Still, between that and the fact that it was created by J. J. Abrams, the prolific producer who got the ball rolling on LOST, I was game when Will suggested we watch that next. Nonetheless, I was surprised at how quickly and fully I was drawn into the drama of this sheltered, intelligent young woman navigating life away from her parents for the first time.

Keri Russell stars as Felicity Porter, who makes a life-changing decision on the day that she graduates from high school. When Ben Covington (Scott Speedman), the long-time crush she has never spoken to, leaves an affirming note in her yearbook, she ditches her plans to attend college close to home and instead moves across the country to follow him to the University of New York. Her parents are displeased with her decision, but they come to accept it, and Felicity begins to carve out a very different life for herself in the Big Apple. Her indecisive nature haunts her as she struggles to forge a genuine bond with Ben and finds herself constantly confiding in the sensitive Noel Crane (Scott Foley), her RA. A lifelong loner, she also makes her first real friends, quiet aspiring musician Julie Emrick (Amy Jo Johnson) and sassy, studious pre-med student Elena Tyler (Tangi Miller).

I commuted to college, and I never had much desire to soak up dorm life, but watching this, I can certainly see that it might have had its benefits as well. There’s a definite sense of community among the students who live on campus. Ben is a bit of an oddball in that way because he does not live on campus, but he still is very much a part of the activities of the others. His roommate, Sean Blumberg, is one of the most enjoyable side characters, and he becomes more prominent as the season wears on. Played by Greg Grunberg, who has appeared in most of Abrams’ projects over the years, he is an eccentric in his late 20s who is constantly coming up with bizarre inventions. Initially a source of comic relief, he eventually becomes more heavily involved in the main storylines.

One enjoyable aspect of the series is the artful narration that arises from the correspondence Felicity enjoys with her former French teacher. They send each other tapes, and while we occasionally hear her friend’s responses, it’s mostly Felicity that we hear. These tapes give her the opportunity to reflect on the confusing events that are swirling around her. One of the definitions for “felicity” is “the ability to find appropriate expression for one’s thoughts,” and while Felicity often fails to express herself well in the moment, she never fails to have an eloquent way of describing her experiences and their significance on these tapes. The other definition of “felicity,” “intense happiness,” is what Felicity seeks so earnestly and finds so elusive. She latches onto perfect moments of happiness, but then she destroys them by over-thinking the situation. As someone whose own contentment has often been damaged by dwelling too much on troubling possibilities, I find myself both sympathetic toward and frustrated by this tendency.

College is a great time of self-discovery for Felicity, and she begins to question all of the plans that she made for her life, particularly her father’s expectation that she would become a doctor. While she applies herself very well to her studies, she comes to realize that her true passion is for art, a pursuit she had all but abandoned in recent years. The pressures of trying to decide on a major that may well set the course of one’s life are often front and center, particularly the tug of war between the expectations of others and one’s own deepest desires.

Few specific professors are highlighted on the show; while Felicity and her friends are often seen studying – to hilarious effect in one episode depicting the frenzy of pre-finals panic – little time is generally spent in the classroom. The show does tackle the issue of academic integrity as Felicity’s attempt to help Ben with a paper leads them both into hot water, and roommate dynamics are always a concern, as Felicity shares her room with an aggressively snarky goth girl named Meghan Rotundi (Amanda Foreman) who strives to make her life difficult as often as possible. Even she is endearing in her own way, though, as is Richard Coad (Rob Benedict), Noel’s most irksome advisee. More attention is given to Felicity’s job; she works at a coffee shop under the supervision of the flamboyant Javier (Ian Gomez), a very sweet and funny character.

Felicity tackles a lot of tough subjects, particularly dealing with the complexities of relationships. The ever-more-complicated love triangle with Felicity, Noel and Ben gets wearying, but aside from a few slightly contrived situations surrounding their relationships, the struggles and frustrations feel very authentic. We’re on the second season now, and I have no doubt that I will continue to enjoy Felicity’s adventures through the end of her college years.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Woody Allen Is Likable But Exhausting in Play It Again, Sam


Thanks to the wonders of Netflix and Amazon Prime, watching streaming movies is a regular pastime for my fiancé and me. Our first of the year was Woody Allen’s Play It Again, Sam. Aside from clips of other movies, my experience of Woody Allen has been mostly limited to Annie Hall, which I didn’t much like. While some of the same elements are present in this film, I generally found it to be fairly enjoyable.

Allen stars as Allan in this Herbert Ross-directed movie based on a play, both of which Allen wrote. Allan is a film critic whose world falls apart in the beginning of the movie after his wife ditches him. They’ve only been married a couple years, and she’s been miserable most of that time. At this point, I wanted to feel sorry for Allan, but it wasn’t hard to see why Nancy left him. He’s a total drip who neurotic rambling throughout the movie is absolutely exhausting.

Still, he’s managed to retain two very devoted friends, the married couple Linda (Diane Keaton) and Dick (Tony Roberts). As soon as they hear of his troubles, they are at his side, and they remain that way for much of the movie. However, Dick is preoccupied with work, and toward the end of the movie, he goes on a business trip, leaving Allan and Linda alone together. While Allan attempts a couple of disastrous dates with women his friends select for him as possibilities, the only woman he has any real rapport with is Linda herself.

Their relationship is interesting to watch here. As stressful and complicated as the relationship between the central characters in Annie Hall is, this one is warm and friendly throughout, and Allan even manages to relax a bit while he’s around Linda. It turns out that when he is not so busy trying to win someone over, he’s actually rather charming in his own eccentric way, though the mental traps that cause him such trouble in his dating life rear their ugly heads when he begins to consider the prospect of an affair with Linda.

The most distinctive feature of this movie is the way it uses Humphrey Bogart as a foil and sort of coach for Allan. As he is a big Bogart fan with a particular fondness for Casablanca, Allan manufactures his own personal Bogey (Jerry Lacy), who advises him to follow in his own acerbic footsteps. Occasionally, an imaginary version of Nancy pops up as well to advise Allan in a softer direction. The movie abounds with quotes and references to Bogart movies, making it particularly fun for film buffs.

Play It Again, Sam has a bittersweet quality to it, and while some of Allan’s conversations with Bogey and Walter Mitty-esque daydreams are entertaining, his endless self-questioning prattle left me quite worn out. As I am prone to anxiety myself, watching him served as a reminder for me to rein myself in lest I drive others batty. Dick and Linda are affable and loyal, and the dynamics of their relationship add complexity to Allan’s struggle to figure himself out. He may make the journey more difficult than it needs to be, but it’s easy to hope that he will find his way eventually.