OUAT hits 100 episodes, even though most thought it wouldn’t last a season, because it’s crazy enough to work.
Commander in Chief is one of those shows that had a strong representation of a woman in political power that was not made to appear as simply a woman stereotype, but as leader who only happened to be a woman, a representation that was by far a landmark in television history and should be remembered as a series that although had it’s production problems, still stands as a significant step towards a future where equality includes gender, even in the highest office of the United States.
This week commemorates five years since the premiere of My Generation, and although it got poor ratings and was canceled it does not mean it was a bad show. It’s almost always a shame when a network is unable to commit to their programming schedule and it’s only more disappointing when the show is one of quality that was just unable to find its audience in time. There’s no use in trying to elucidate as to why the show was canceled, it’s perhaps more suitable to appraise the show for what was produced, as little as there was. With its very short run and minimal critical recognition, it’s likely this show has been obscured by time, and with every year that goes by it goes unnoticed. This should not be the case as for those who watched it could see that it was a show that had interesting stories to tell, and stimulating ways to tell them using the documentary style device to enhance the myth-making of the characters and the world around them.
How To Get Away With Murder wraps up its season with a two-hour finale that solves the central mystery while leaving some questions unanswered. Some of the episode is a slog, padded out by yet another snoozy case of the week, but the last 10 minutes are as suspenseful as anything on television. If Peter Norwalk and the writers can figure out how to drop the procedural element of the show and more fully explore the actions of the regular characters, some of whom are not much more fleshed out than when the series began, the show will be much improved in season 2.
After the tour de force performance that was the pilot of Twin Peaks, the most important of the many questions raised was how on earth this would be able to sustain a weekly series. Its vision was so unique and its oddness so carefully calibrated that it was easy to understand why so many of the critics who first reviewed it and loved it gave it zero chance of mainstream success, even while you could also understand why ABC would take a chance on its vision.
In the nearly 25 years since Twin Peaks debuted on ABC, the show has achieved an almost mythic status in the canon of television. Not only has it influenced a legion of other shows, but its various elements and images have become indelible parts of pop culture. Appreciation of cherry pie and damn good coffee. A lady with a log that she treats like a beloved pet. A dwarf dancing in a room with red curtains and a zig-zag carpet. When people think of Twin Peaks, they think of its oddities, and with good reason: the surreality is so distinct that it lingers long after the details surrounding it have faded.
Scandal’s very much a show where you love and root for characters based on their charm rather than their morality. No one is wholly good or evil, but that doesn’t really matter at the end of each episode–what matters is how likable each member of the cast is, how intriguing their storyline currently is, and how well they interact with other cast members on screen. This isn’t an insult to the audience, but rather a compliment to Scandal and the show’s creators–it has to be hard to make such morally-reprehensible people so compulsively watchable week after week.