Tag Archives: Ronald Reagan

“Duty and Honor” and infidelity: Sam Lim and I discuss Episode 7 of The Americans

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Courtesy of TV.com.
Courtesy of TV.com.

Jay: About halfway through this one, I really thought The Americans might have turned a corner. And in a way, I still think it might’ve. A lot took place in this episode, and part of me thinks my slightly more positive reaction stems mostly from the manipulative use of sad music during important scenes, instead of being a consequence of masterful storytelling.

Nevertheless, a few more things went well in this episode than I’m used to. It was also the rare TV episode in which relationships were the defining centerpiece and I wasn’t even bored. It helped that they added some mild twists, such as Stan being left at the bar and then, instead of hitting on the girl at the other end, meeting up with Nina. (By the way, that relationship is increasingly looking like it’s going in the direction I’d guessed earlier: he’s worried about her, and the FBI doesn’t give a damn.)

Phil’s backstory just got a hell of a lot more interesting as well, although I really wasn’t a fan of the actress who played his former love interest. First of all, why does she still look like she’s 16, even though she has a son that’s older than that? Secondly, I just didn’t find her a very convincing actress. Nevertheless, the execution of that part of the story was decent. It didn’t occur to me now — and here comes the obligatory Homeland reference — that Phil’s lie to Elizabeth at the very end (that nothing happened between him and Irina) is very reminiscent of Brody’s lies to Jess about Carrie. Anyway…

Once again, the events feel as if they’re taking place in a vacuum, though. Political events come into focus at the beginning of an episode, intensify during the middle, and are resolved by the end. It’s like Family Guy, only less funny. (That’s a bit harsh.) But I am trying to remain hopeful that the show can continue to nicely balance the relationship and career aspects of the show. Speaking of which, Elizabeth and Granny’s conversation on the park bench looked pretty ominous. If this were a higher-quality show, I’d venture to guess that it will have ripple effects in later episodes. On The Americans, I have no idea.

What’d you think? Continue reading “Duty and Honor” and infidelity: Sam Lim and I discuss Episode 7 of The Americans →

Are the writers still “In Control?” Sam Lim and I tackle Episode 4 of The Americans

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Jay: After last week, this episode felt a bit like a letdown. The action was good, the tension was decent, but the dialogue basically muddled through and the plot was weaker than it was in “Gregory.”

First, though, I have to get a pet peeve off my chest. Stan’s boss says of the attempted assassin, “[If] this guy’s said ‘Nyet’ once in the past ten years, we’re gonna find out when and where.” Why do so many TV shows and movies have lines like that? No one talks in such melodramatic phrases.

But even aside from a few campy moments — another one is when Elizabeth is arguing with Phil about staying committed to the Soviet Union: that debate is already getting old for me, and Elizabeth still hasn’t looked convincing while doing it yet — the plot got into weird territory at times.

claudia

First, why are Phil, Elizabeth, and “Claudia” all so willing to talk in their car openly (and even somewhat loudly)? They drop bugs all over the place — I’m guessing one was in the pin Phil gave to that nurse, most recently — but they’re not even remotely nervous that they’re being watched? Even after Phil knows for certain Stan was suspicious enough to snoop around their garage and check out their car?

Speaking of cars, it was never explained how they got rid of the security guard’s car. Dumping a body is one thing, but making a car disappear is another matter entirely. Maybe that’ll get brought up in a later episode.

Another thing: why would Nina’s boss tell her colleague to follow her? Once again, there’s really no explanation given for why all the right people are wary of all the other right people. It’s too uncanny, and too much like network TV.

Which brings me to my next complaint: remember how Nina was recruited in the first place? Because she got caught stealing caviar from the embassy. If you were her, wouldn’t you rather just confess the theft and try to find a new job, instead of risking your life running around every time the FBI calls? In defense of the show, I suppose it’s feasible that she feels it’s now too late, that even if she stopped working for the FBI they’d ruin her life (or end it) anyway. But her risk/reward calculations don’t seem that smart right now.

Side note: I don’t get what took place when Phil called that guy with a bunch of phones and asked to get to the vice president’s office. Was he figuring out who the nurse was? And who was that dude with all the phones?

One last thing: I couldn’t help but notice that when Paige went over her friend’s house to apologize, she was playing with her hands in the exact same way Dana does all the time on Homeland. Is that the universal TV representation of “awkward teenager?”

Sam: I couldn’t agree more with everything you pointed out! My biggest mistake this week: raising my expectations. Before I watched the episode, I read that this week’s episode would cover the assassination attempt on President Reagan, and for some reason, I thought it would make for an interesting episode, to say the least. I was wrong. Continue reading Are the writers still “In Control?” Sam Lim and I tackle Episode 4 of The Americans →

“The Clock” is ticking for The Americans: Sam Lim and I discuss Episode 2

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americansSam and I are back — a little late this time — to talk about Episode 2 of The Americans, titled “The Clock.” The consensus? Lower expectations make for a more enjoyable viewing experience. (I guess we should all know that by now given the inexplicable long-term popularity of Two and a Half Men.)

Sam: At first glance, this week’s episode wasn’t that bad. I wasn’t impressed, but I wasn’t supremely disappointed either. I must be managing my expectations well.

Stan Beeman, though. I just find him annoying. First of all, they found caviar at some stereo store. Is it just me or does that just seem too convenient a storyline? And after pocketing that caviar, why does Stan feel the need to take it to Philip’s house that night? Is his gut telling him that caviar will make Philip admit he’s a KGB officer?

Interesting development at the FBI office though. Beeman takes a congratulatory phone call, and I noticed Amador’s face contort all of a sudden. Might this have been The Americans‘ subtle attempt to hint at race-relations in the workplace in the early 80s? Or this might’ve just been another tangential sequence with no direction (like the child predator from the first episode).

Also, in this episode, Elizabeth just seemed like a totally different character to me. Gone was the steely, nationalistic resolve from last week. Instead, perhaps fueled by her conversations with Philip (which still would be strange, given what we’d seen of their seemingly complicated relationship from last week), she wants to spend more time as a mother. I don’t know. I said it last week, and I’ll say it again. I find her character development sporadic and weak at best. Who randomly wakes up their daughter in the middle of the night to pierce their ears? Bizarre.

Your take?

Jay: Your last point cracked me up: there really is very little explanation for Elizabeth barging in on her sleeping daughter to pierce her ears. And on a similar note, I really don’t know why they insert gratuitous scenes like Phil watching over his sleeping son with hands folded. What is that scene supposed to accomplish? Let us know that, despite nearly suffocating an innocent guy earlier, he’s still a loving dad? I mean, great?!

The funny thing is, I know exactly what you mean about managing expectations: a big part of the reason I didn’t see this episode until today is because I was really busy, but the other part is that I just wasn’t that excited about it. So when I finally did watch it, my expectations were low enough that it allowed me to actually enjoy the episode much, much more than I did the pilot.

And I have to say, things were better this time around. Elizabeth, like you said, was much less dogmatic and more of a real person. Stan’s workplace dynamics are starting to shape up — although, again, we don’t know exactly what that look on Amador’s face meant yet, other than what seemed to be office politics (Stan taking the credit for other people’s hard work). Even the scene with Stan in Phil’s kitchen wasn’t as awful as it could have been. Granted, the whole caviar side-plot is a bit strange, but it seemed conceivable that Stan came over just to be friendly. He seems to be a bit of a loner, even with a family.

I’m also curious to see how the story with the newly recruited Russian caviar thief works out. I have to admit, I didn’t really pay close attention during Stan’s scene with her, so I’m not entirely sure what the racket was that she had gotten herself involved in — stealing caviar from an embassy and buying stereos with it? did I hear that right? — but I’m looking forward to seeing what she ends up doing.

My biggest complaint, weirdly enough, is about the girl Phil’s stringing along in his roleplaying as a Swedish intelligence officer: why are her lines so cheesy? No one talks like that, not even back in the 1980s. At least I certainly hope not.

Do you see any themes shaping up? Anything to get you more engaged? I have to admit that I’m somewhat less down on the show now, even if I remain wary.

americans2Sam: I had forgotten about Philip and the whole Swedish intelligence officer thing! You know, as part of my lowered expectations mantra, I think I just kind of approached that one with an “eh” reaction.

I do think you’re right, though, that such an approach allows the episode to do better this time around. You might be right about Stan just being friendly or not having much of a family life. Or perhaps he just felt bad for breaking into the Jennings’ garage.

Theme-wise, so far, I feel like we’re going to see a lot of family influence on the main characters’ actions and inactions. That seems to be a major theme of the series — that you have these covert spies who are supposed to blend in by having a normal family, etc. but have to balance a dangerous hidden life.

As for anything to get me more engaged, I’m honestly not sure. I can’t help wondering if some sort of Homeland-like twist where one of the main characters becomes a double agent might not make me more interested. But then it’d just become an even more second-rate Homeland ripoff. So I’ll just continue managing my expectations and enjoying more scenes of confiscated caviar being consumed. That’s it. I enjoy food, so perhaps introducing more good food would be a nice development (I’m only being somewhat facetious on this point).

What about you? What would you do to make this better?

Jay: I’m with you on the family aspect: I think this will continue to play a large role on the show. In fact, I think I read an interview with the creator, who said that the show was really about marriage and family, and that the spying was almost secondary (paraphrasing hugely here).

The Americans is in a somewhat strange position: it’s arriving on the heels of another very popular spy show, and yet there may actually be an opening for this one too just by virtue of the fact that Homeland went almost completely off the rails at various times during Season 2. And yet anything The Americans does will — at least in our minds, quite obviously — be compared against Homeland.

I think they need to make sure they take The Americans in a different direction. Obviously, they can’t avoid certain similarities: double agents, covert operations, and so on are all necessary staples of the spy genre, but one advantage The Americans has is its historical setting: the 1980s and the beginning of Ronald Reagan’s administration. It seems to me that they’re a bit more willing to “get political” (given the multiple references to Reagan being crazy and whatnot) than Homeland was, possibly simply due to the benefit of hindsight (people don’t always get as angry discussing the politics of thirty years ago than they would about contemporary issues like terrorism). That, and the look exchanged between Stan and his Number 2 make me think the show could edge in a direction that establishes itself as social commentary. I say “could” because, so far, these seem like mostly irrelevant blips that don’t connect to any broader themes, but that may be just because we’ve seen only two episodes. I guess we’ll find out.

A comedian’s take on Hurricane Sandy

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Nato Green gives it a shot for The Rumpus:

Disasters are live-action infomercials for big government. A crisis will flex and strain the muscles and tendons of big government until government’s nipples bleed under their racing tank-top: the taut glutes of regulation, the shredded abs of infrastructure investment, the rippling quads of highly-trained and well-paid unionized workers with real safety standards.

At one extreme you have the ripped, disciplined, and prepared Michael Phelps of government springing into action. At the other extreme you have the malnourished, drug-addled, and skittish government wholly unable to prepare or respond to a disaster. Think Haiti after the earthquake.

There are plutocrats who in their pillow talk believe that if you are poor enough to be hurt by a storm, then that is the natural consequence of your foolish choice to be poor. If natural disasters create the occasional Malthusian spike in immiseration and death, then it will be good for dividends. At best, human suffering that doesn’t affect me is not my problem. The stalwarts of the 1% would gladly replace FEMA with the Federal Country Club Maintenance Administration.

Right now the merit of big, burly, over-reaching, centralized, government contrasts sharply with the exuberant villainization of all things public by both parties. Both parties love austerity while loathing debt, spending, regulation, public workers, and taxes. Both candidates wring their hands about the debt and compete over who is most on the free enterprise system’s nuts. The difference between Obama and Romney is in degree.

Meanwhile, Paul Krugman urges us to consider the case of FEMA:

Like Mr. Clinton, President Obama restored FEMA’s professionalism, effectiveness, and reputation. But would Mitt Romney destroy the agency again? Yes, he would. As everyone now knows — despite the Romney campaign’s efforts to Etch A Sketch the issue away — during the primary Mr. Romney used language almost identical to Mr. Allbaugh’s, declaring that disaster relief should be turned back to the states and to the private sector.

The best line on this, I have to admit, comes from Stephen Colbert: “Who better to respond to what’s going on inside its own borders than the state whose infrastructure has just been swept out to sea?”

Look, Republicans love to quote Ronald Reagan’s old joke that the most dangerous words you can hear are “I’m from the government and I’m here to help.” Of course they’ll do their best, whenever they’re in power, to destroy an agency whose job is to say exactly that. And yes, it’s hypocritical that the right-wing news media are now attacking Mr. Obama for, they say, not helping enough people.

Back to the politics. Some Republicans have already started using Sandy as an excuse for a possible Romney defeat. It’s a weak argument: state-level polls have been signaling a clear and perhaps widening Obama advantage for weeks. But as I said, to the extent that the storm helps Mr. Obama, it’s well deserved.

The fact is that if Mr. Romney had been president these past four years the federal response to disasters of all kinds would have been far weaker than it was. There would have been no auto bailout, because Mr. Romney opposed the federal financing that was crucial to the rescue. And FEMA would have remained mired in Bush-era incompetence.

So this storm probably won’t swing the election — but if it does, it will do so for very good reasons.

Simon says….Ronald Reagan!

Politics,

Is it just me, or has there been an abnormally large contingent of Ronald Reagan-related quotes on the GOP’s campaign trail this cycle? Here’s the latest, from Sarah Palin’s PAC web site:

President Reagan once noted that our national anthem is the only one in the world that ends with a question: “O, say does that Star-Spangled Banner yet wave, o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?” It’s up to each generation of Americans to answer that question. I hope we all make it our duty and responsibility to make sure that, YES, our banner still waves over a free and brave nation!

This leads me to wonder to what other ends Palin could trot out the ol’ Gipper. A few ideas:

1. President Reagan once noted that ice cream cones taste better with pickles. I tried it. He was very wrong.

2. President Reagan once noted that the Berlin Wall must be torn down. But the Separation Wall in the West Bank suits me just fine.

3. President Reagan once noted that we have excess prison capacity and a conveniently large number of black and Latino citizens he’d like to lock up, far from voting booths. That’s worked out pretty well for everyone, right?

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#20: Rise to Globalism

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Last month, The New Yorker ran a full-page piece on Stephen E. Ambrose, American historian extraordinaire and author, most famously, of Band of Brothers. (Yes, that one.) Ambrose, whom the reporter describes (not inaccurately) as “America’s most famous and popular historian,” appears to have joined the long list of respected writers and academics whose zeal for sculpting a superior narrative was undermined by the dubious methods they used along the way. As Dwight D. Eisenhower’s biographer, Ambrose, who died in 2002, took pride in the “hundreds and hundreds of hours” he spent with the president over the course of five years.

As it turns out, these hours turned out to be just as phantasmal as, say, weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, or an honest politician. According to The New Yorker article, the deputy director of Eisenhower’s presidential library and museum recently discovered the president’s schedule, which revealed that “Eisenhower saw Ambrose only three times, for a total of less than five hours. The two men were never alone together.” In an understatement, the deputy secretary mused, “[Eisenhower] simply didn’t see that much of Stephen Ambrose.”

Notwithstanding the historian’s posthumous humiliation, it is quite clear just how he ascended to the zenith of American history-telling. In the 1997 eighth revised edition of Rise to Globalism: American Foreign Policy Since 1938, Ambrose joined with Douglas G. Brinkley (ironically, the Stephen E. Ambrose Professor of History at the University of New Orleans at the time) in recounting the events, decisions, and people that shaped the course of the twentieth century and set the standard for the one following.

Reading a pre-9/11 history book feels a bit fantastical at times, as when the introduction to the book presciently concludes, “America in the 1990s was richer and more powerful — and more vulnerable — than at any other time in her history.” In general, however, Rise to Globalism is every bit the thorough (although not detached) retrospective one would expect from a titan in the field such as Stephen Ambrose. Somewhat surprisingly, the most interesting nuggets are not the minutiae of political decision-making or military strategies but Brinkley and Ambrose’s perspectives on them.

As one clear example, it is quite obvious from the outset of chapter fifteen, Reagan and the Evil Empire, that the authors are not particularly fond of President #40. This is made abundantly clear in recounting the American involvement in the Israeli-Lebanese war in the early 1980s. Whether describing Reagan as “[blundering] in Lebanon as badly as Carter had blundered in Iran” or claiming that “no one, most of all Reagan himself, ever seemed to be clear on the purpose of that involvement,” Rise to Globalism is unapologetically ambivalent at best about the Reagan administration.

Of course, this is a perfectly valid evaluation, and one that helpfully reminds the reader that a history textbook this is not. (Of course, recent developments in the Texas public school curriculum raise doubts as to whether some history textbooks are even history textbooks. But I digress.) The authors’ perspectives are not partisan, it should be noted; of President Jimmy Carter, they praise his emphasis on human rights, which “struck a responsive chord among the oppressed everywhere,” but ultimately concede that “all the goals were wildly impractical and none were achieved.”

Especially fascinating is the nuanced tale of the Vietnam War, in which the reader is taken beyond soldiers, fighting, politicians, and election campaigns and into a deeper look at the underlying shifts in national societies themselves. Of course, these changes cannot be understood in isolation, and Ambrose and Brinkley deftly portray the interacting elements of politics and public sentiment. (The American fascination with the atomic bomb’s potential to establish permanent world hegemony is but one of several intriguing developments explored within this context.)

At times, Rise to Globalism is unforgiving in its assessments of American arrogance and impulsiveness, a tendency that lends credibility to their praise at other moments. (Commenting on the American commitment to Vietnam, despite elected officials’ many reassurances that the United States was not “fighting a white man’s war against Asians,” the authors ponder, “Why had the Americans not heeded their own warnings? Because they were cocky, overconfident, sure of themselves, certain that they could win at a bearable cost, and that in the process they would turn back the Communist tide in Asia.”) A similar attention to detail is displayed in coverage of the Cold War; perhaps most remarkable is the illuminating fact that, strenuous attempts at differentiation notwithstanding, most American presidents of the era closely mimicked their immediate predecessors’ foreign policies.

Despite having been written in the late 1990s, at a time when American influence could hardly have been more pervasive, Rise to Globalism is remarkably circumspect in its prognostications for the future. The book ends as President Bill Clinton’s second term begins, a period of unprecedented peace and prosperity for the West; and yet, in the last sentence, the authors caution that “no one would claim that he had wrought a global utopia of free-market democracies.” If Stephen Ambrose were alive today, a sequel, or at least an updated edition, would be in order. The times, they are a-changin’, but Rise to Globalism‘s relative old age has yet to relegate it to the dusty side of the bookshelf.