The Macabre of it all

It is not lost on me that that the only two TV series I’m watching at the moment are Wednesday and Dexter. 

Though why wouldn’t you want to keep up with a snide, too-smart-for-the-room malcontent who can’t completely bend the world to her will despite her vast intellectual powers, or the dark passenger of good guy serial killers who only kills the bad guys?

Though I do miss the “kill shirt”

So many of us are frustrated that well-reasoned, fact-based logic no longer works. And I’ll bet even more fantasize about the countless ways we could do away with the truly evil bad guys who are wreaking havoc on our streets, or from inside buildings of rarefied power.

Though, well, perhaps it’s just me.

It’s not just you, Chairy.

Let’s face it, these are macabre times.

If you are of the baby boomer (1946-1964) or Gen X (1965-1980) generations it’s particularly strange to see U.S. soldiers in an airfield on their knees rolling out a literal red carpet to the president of Russia and all that implies.

Is this like rooting for Ivan Drago??

From an ongoing nuclear arms race to a free democracy vs. autocratic dictatorship stance, the dangerous differences between us allowed polite constructive conversation for the good of the planet but never a glad-handing, subservient welcome wagon.

It’d be like Dexter greeting David Berkowitz, the Notorious “Son of Sam” killer in NYC in the 1970s, at a dinner party with a bear hug and a back slap.

Well when you put it that way

At best, Dex would politely nod at him in order to keep the peace, and then spend most of the rest of the evening listening to suss out the danger and to quell any potential violence on the immediate horizon.

And if that analogy sounds like a reach, it should be known this season’s Dexter: Resurrection actually has our amiable anti-hero at a serial killer dinner party, assembled by a fictional tech billionaire played by Peter Dinklage, for his own amusement, with help from his icy assassin assistant in the form of Uma Thurman.

And yes, Dinklage wears a Doctor Evil suit

It seemed like a bit of a stretch at first, but as world and domestic events unfold in 2025 one can’t help but wonder how many secret confabs of real world baddies go unnoticed right under all of our collective noses.

Of course, it depends on what your definitions of bad and good; heroes and villains are.  And for that definition I couldn’t venture a guess on anything timely enough to satisfy a majority of Americans, never mind the world’s population.

This is what happen when there is no longer an accepted baseline of what is acceptable in a country that is often touted as the actual leader of democracy in the free world.

We’re all tap dancin’ with Sutton because Anything Goes #hyuckhyuck

As for Wednesday, she lives merely on television, in a community of people who are “different” from the norm (Note: In her case, a school for gifted teenagers with supernatural power, aka Outcasts), located in a town of so-called “normies.”  It’s a place her parents bring her to so she can be educated and thrive in a free environment and thus ultimately have a better life.

Sure, it sounds good on paper, but in practice…. well, let’s just say the school and the town is loaded with barriers of pre-judgement and predators, often coming from the upper echelons of power at the school itself.

Though not entirely.

And how can we be mad when the outfits are Bewitched levels of amazing?

Wednesday may be tough, smart and possess unique powers that could benefit those around her, but her difference proves too great.  Her elders see her as a threat to the current social order and their futures.  Too many in her community find her confidence and looks off-putting.  And she does herself no favors in how little tolerance she has for any of it – or anything else.

At another time and in another place, she might even be referred to as “uppity.”

Rude

No one believes Wednesday Addams will always do the right thing or turn out to be one of the “good” ones once she is an adult.  But a principle premise of the series is that she, and the rest of those society snap judges to be “outcasts” without any proof their differences equal danger and justify contempt, should be given a chance in a world that purports to run on freedom.

It’s the argument for democracy.

It’s the argument for immigrants.

Indeed

It’s the argument for free and fair elections on an even playing field in a country that professes to be emancipated.

Just as no one believes Dexter Morgan, a guy whose skill at slicing up the human bodies of his victims into a dozen neatly wrapped freezer bags and then thrown into the nearest ocean or trash compactor, is the best role model we have for moral virtue and decision-making.

What’s scary is that these days, at the end of one of our maddeningly endless “news” days, their choices are beginning to look not half bad.

“Bloody Mary” – Lady Gaga (sped up via Wednesday)

Adieu ’22

I avoid ever saying this is the worst about anything because to me that is tempting fate.  

Invariably life will answer you back with, really, then try this, and you will find yourself wishing and dreaming and hoping of what you once thought was the worst because in retrospect you had no idea how truly “worst” things could get.

Somehow it can still get worse

All that being said, 2022 was by no means a STELLAR year.

If it wasn’t the WORST, and clearly it wasn’t in case life is listening, it was by no means the BEST.

I will cop to the fact that it was better than sitting quarantined at home in an infinity number of Zoom chats, as we were in 2020 and large swaths of 2021.  It was also preferable to the morning after Election Day 2016 or that time in 2006 when Crash won the Oscar for best picture over Brokeback Mountain (Note:  March 5th, somewhere between 8 and 9pm PST, to be exact.  Not that I hold grudges.  Much). 

Promise.

I watched Black Panther: Wakanda Forever the other night and I quite enjoyed it.  Or let’s say, it hit home with me and I wasn’t bored, which is more than I can say for the majority of critic’s darlings this year (Note:  I still want my 12 hours back for Tar and the other 18 that I devoted to _____fill in the blank___).

Side Note:  What is it with the length of movies this year, anyway?  Why has more become more, and even more be determined to be even better??

Me, after I finish Babylon

Nevertheless Wakanda.  At two hours and 41 minutes it is actually four minutes longer than Tar but to me plays like a short film by comparison.

And I guess that is the real point.

Taste, like life, or even year-end recaps and annual 10 best lists, is really all about point of view and perspective. 

For me, Wakanda summed up a several year period of loss and gave us a comic book blueprint about moving on.  If it wasn’t the best film of the year, and certainly it wasn’t even though that’s a pretty low bar, it certainly was one of the most relevant.

More Angela in 2023, please

What do you do when the world, as you understood it, disappears?  How do you survive when one of the people closest to you dies?  How do you move on when your hero (or heroes) disappears and your moral compass is gone? 

And what actions can you take when there is no one left to lead you but yourself and deep down you know you are nowhere near up to that task?

Wakanda answers that question in a reassuring, old-fashioned way.  That, of course, none of us are by ourselves if we’ve ever loved and lost because the memory of that person, or the good that once was, is always inside of us.  We merely need to go deep down and feel the joy, through the pain of what once was, and use it and all we experienced as the basis for a new path that we create for ourselves to move forward. 

A kind of moral, even informational, blue print, if you will.

Whoa, Chairy. That’s deep!

I heard some politician or theologian this year talk about the history of social movements as a relay race that one runs in during their time.  You advance the cause as far as you can and then pass the torch on to the next generation, in hopes that they can go even further   

The race never ends but neither does the spirit of anyone that has come before you, despite the inevitable losses.

That’s the way we move on and carry on and certainly it’s all far above the pay grade of anyone trying to summarize 2022. 

Except, clearly, some people.

Vibes.

The horrific invasion of the Ukraine by Russia began in Feb. 2022 and continues through this very moment and beyond. Yet Volodymyr Zelensky, a former actor with little political experience, unlikely leads a shockingly strong and still standing Ukraine, and was just voted Time Magazine’s Man of the Year. 

Dressed in fatigue colors and armed with the ability to stay charismatically on message as bombs drop all around him, Zelensky has somehow risen to fill a leadership gap in the world by merely stepping up in a moment.  No more so then when he addressed the U.S. Congress a few weeks ago and proclaimed that the billions in military aid we are giving to Ukraine should not be seen as “charity” but an “investment” for freedom and all of our futures.

True courage

What could read like political tripe played as exactly the opposite merely because it was the truth and was said with conviction and a little bit of humor.  And it got him a standing ovation from the vast majority of blue AND red politicians in the chamber.  Not to mention the world.

To make a cheap comparison to movies – which is cheap because they are NOT real life despite what we think – it’s what happens when an actor so totally inhabits a role that the effect is undeniable.  Austin Butler in Elvis and Brendan Fraser in The Whale.  Michelle Williams in The Fabelmans and Michelle Yeoh in Everything Everywhere All At Once.  Four high points of many low points overall in 2022 cinema.

… and the rocks. Of course, the rocks.

Actors, in particular, often get their moments in the unlikeliest of roles and/or in the strangest of times.  And many of them, like many of us, never hit that jackpot in quite the way they or we imagine they would.

Nevertheless, we all continue running the race, as the mere fact of you reading this proves.  And that is at least one other great thing about 2022.  We are all still running.

I could tell you The Bear and Wednesday and Smiley brought me the most fun on streaming platforms in the past 12 months, and that the Jan. 6th hearings were clearly the smartest and most interesting thing on network television but what would that prove?

… that you’ve been thinking about this dance for a month?

I can confess that re-watching select films on Turner Classic Movies this year probably gave me more pleasure than any other 2022 release (Note:  I marveled at Paris Blues (1961), a perfectly imperfect movie, and cried once again at Jacques Demy’s classic Umbrellas of Cherbourg) but who really cares.

It’s even less important than admitting that I loved Mary Rodgers’ autobiography Shy a lot more than the 2014 Pulitzer Prize winning novel All The Light We Cannot See, which I tried reading over the summer but never finished because there is only so much description of items in a room (Note: Meaning, not much) that I can bear. 

This feels right

That fact is even less surprising than publicly stating I listen to almost none of the new songs and albums that made it onto music critics’ 2022 top ten lists (Note: I can’t anymore with Taylor Swift, and Beyoncé, though they and their admittedly oversize talents, should live and be well). 

Oh get over it!

Still, in fairness I must state that I do love me some Brandi Carlisle and was really, really, really disappointed that the forever young and forever cool indie rock group, Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs, had to bow out of the season finale musical guest spot on Saturday Night Live because one of them was ill.

They should live and be well (Note: When did I turn into my great-grandmother?) through 2022 and beyond, too. 

As should we all and then some for what a new, potentially fabulous year could have on the horizon.  Or not.

No pressure, 2023.   At All.

Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs – “Spitting Off the Edge of the World”