A week after a solidly average season premiere, Peter Capaldi and Doctor Who return to kick off Series 8 proper. And what better way to make a new Doctor feel welcome, than with the return of some of his most vile villains – the Daleks.
No, this is not a review of the turn-of-the-new-century sitcom (but if I were to write a review of Friends, it would be a pretty positive one) – this is the ominous review that I’ve been parenthetically alluding to over the last few days. Long story short – two of my best friends, Chelsea and Ryan Foy, had unprotected sex and are now packing up their baby and moving to Modesto, where Uncles Drew and Steve can’t corrupt the young man too much. It’s the right decision for many reasons, but it does decrease the number of locals that I feel comfortable around by a significant percentage. But maybe – just maybe – that is a good thing.
“We’ll be friends forever.” While that may not be a sentiment anyone have ever actually said outside of a movie, it is certainly the way that many young people approach their relationships as elements such as college and work begin to put wedges between them. As you get older you realize what a silly notion it was in the first place; people grow apart, and you have to accept it as part of your personal maturation. But that doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t go back again.
So you successfully formed an improv team? That’s great. You’ve started performing together as a group? Excellent. The next step for any aspiring presence in the comedy community is, of course, to start a podcast. Everybody has one. From Jimmy Pardo to Joe Rogan to most of the people you meet in a UCB class. It’s just one of the many ways to forward your brand. So get on it everyone. I am.
Let’s get one piece of information out early: I’m not a dessert guy. I’ll eat ice cream like it’s going out of style, but for the most part I would rather fill up on real food than sugary sweets. If I’m choosing between more chicken or cake, I’m gonna choose chicken every time. I’m a man, and man love food. But the point of 365 Days of Reviews is to expand my horizons. So I now present – for your reading pleasure – churros.
I can’t tell if Cinemax is staffed by idiots or geniuses. Their new prestige series, The Knick, is airing on Fridays. Fridays! The widely accepted graveyard for broadcast television. The only thing worse is (shudder) Saturday. Ever since the days of The Sopranos, Sunday has been the day for high concept cable drama. Perhaps HBO, the more popular parent company to Cinemax, doesn’t want to canibalize it’s own end-of-weekend cash cow. It does however leave one wondering if anyone is watching The Knick. Certainly not on Friday.
Like any good 21st century nerd, I have an affinity for the long-running British science fiction series Doctor Who. The 50+ year old television program has been shipped to our American shores since the days of Tom Baker on PBS, but when Russell T. Davies rebooted the series in 2005, that’s when it really took off in the US. We’ve gone through three Doctors since then, and now we stand at the dawn of a new era, as Peter Capaldi (The Thick of It, In the Loop) steps into the TARDIS for the first time. We got our first look at the Twelfth Doctor in the eighth series (they call them “series” instead of seasons across the pond) premiere, “Deep Breath.”
There’s always so much to do during the week. Between work and chores and just generally trying to create a career for oneself, there’s not often a lot of time to relax. So every once a while you have to set aside a day and just dedicate it to doing a whole lot of nothing. Today was one of those days.
When Sin City was released in 2005 it was widely praised for its innovative visual style and exaggerated neo-noir tone. I was there at the beginning, a 15-year-old watching with a group of friends as part of a birthday celebration. My sister was there too. She didn’t care much for the film, but it worked for me. Sin City was a touchstone for me at the time. It was the first R-rated movie I snuck into. It was a comic series I would leaf through in Borders (RIP), hoping to be titillated. It was everything a teenager could want. But I’m not a teenager anymore, and Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller made the mistake of waiting 9 years to put out a sequel. So if I’m not watching Sin City: A Dame to Kill For for titillation – why am I doing it?