Many thanks to the Internet, the television world and the desire for more cutting-edge content, binge-watching has become America’s pastime. For many, there is nothing more satisfying (yet also daunting) than spending hours on end watching a series, and then finally completing it. In the days before readily accessible media, it would take (literally) years to start and finish a television show. You also had to start it as soon as it was on air in order to ensure you didn’t miss a beat. Fans had to make sure their DVR was set (if they even had it) in the event they couldn’t work with a network’s agenda to get a show out.
Call me a romantic, but I like my comedies funny and feel-good. Love fits the bill of funny (well, sometimes), but overall leaves you feeling pretty bad about people and love in general. Love tells the story of a man and a woman falling in love and the rough start of their relationship. “Rough start,” though, might be one of the biggest understatements I’ve ever written. We are introduced to Mickey (Gillian Jacobs) and Gus (Paul Rust), our protagonists (but also antagonists, because they are their own worst enemies) as their lives fall into more of an abyss than usual.
Full House is back! Kind of. Fuller House, the modern day spin-off of the sitcom Full House, was released in full on Feb. 26 as a Netflix original series. The original cast members, with the exception of the Olsen twins, returned to reprise their roles.
After World War II, many things changed in American culture. There was a chain reaction, from soldiers returning home to their families, to the baby boomer generation being born. Thanks to the highway systems built in the 1950s under the Eisenhower administration, families were able to move to the suburbs in order to live more comfortably. This suburbanization became the hallmark of the post-World War II period. On weekends and workweek evenings, families with smaller children would stay home and gather around their television as the primary source of entertainment.
It’s official: Gilmore Girls is coming back for the final season that creator Amy Sherman-Palladino never got to make, Netflix confirmed Friday. Inspired by all the recent revival-induced buzz around the series, I took to nostalgically rewatching every single season during the past few months. Unsurprisingly, the series drew me in just as much as it had the first times I saw it but, also unsurprisingly, I had some different perspectives than my late middle school/early high school self did. As an English major from Connecticut at an Ivy League university who writes for the school paper and wants to be a journalist, it is hard not to identify with Rory. As a ninth grader, I pretty much wanted to be her when I grew up, without even realizing how cool it was that Rory goes on to be a reporter for Barack Obama’s campaign for an online magazine described as “a mix between Slate and the lifestyle section of The New York Times.”
Yet this time around, I was actually much more invested in Lorelai as a character.
Jessica Jones treats its viewers to an engaging, suspenseful, neo-noir-inspired crime drama. The title character just happens to be able to lift cars and punch through walls. The emphasis Jessica Jones places on its plot and character development over its characters’ “gifts” makes the show widely accessible to even traditionally non-superhero fans and refreshing among the seemingly endless stream of superheroes. Throughout the 13 episodes released on Netflix, we are introduced to Jessica Jones, a smart, sarcastic private investigator. When a mother and father arrive at Jessica’s door in search of their missing daughter, Jessica discovers that the man who once held her in captivity, Kilgrave, is still alive and luring her back to him through the kidnapping of the current couple’s daughter, Hope.
Mike Birbiglia is known for mixing up the standup formula. Instead of doing multiple bits, he often prefers to tell a few long stories intermingled with jokes in order to get the emotional point of the story across. He is quite good at it: His last special, “My Girlfriend’s Boyfriend” delivered personal stories of Birbiglia’s with raw emotion and humor, without being excessively self-deprecating. His autobiographical film Sleepwalk With Me (currently on Netflix) poignantly captures the isolation and sadness of being a traveling comedian. So, I was disappointed this past Wednesday at Statler Auditorium when Birbiglia performed his new show, “Thank God for Jokes,” ditching his winning formula.
You know I’m not horsing around when I say that Cornell alums go on to do big things. But did you know that Noel Bright ’94, the executive producer of BoJack Horseman, and Keith Olbermann ’79, voice of Tom Jumbo-Grumbo on BoJack and renowned broadcaster, once walked on the very same slush-covered steps and studied in the exact dungeon-like stacks as you? For those of you who don’t know, BoJack Horseman is arguably the best show in the world right now. A Netflix original, BoJack Horseman has been critically acclaimed for its hilarious and tragic depiction of life through the lens of its main character, a talking horse (voiced by Will Arnett). BoJack is a washed-up television star who got his start on the fictitious ’90s sitcom Horsin’ Around.
Sometimes, in an art museum, you’ll come to a beautiful but conventional painting, perhaps a portrait or a still life. You’ll stand in front of it for a minute, marveling at the brushstrokes that bring it to life, but by the time you leave the museum, you won’t remember much about the piece. A work like Pablo Picasso’s Guernica, for example, which depicts the destruction caused by war in a unique and thought-provoking way, will stick with you much more than paintings that simply portray their subjects accurately. Netflix original, Beasts of No Nation, based on a novel of the same name, is a devastating portrayal of child warfare. The film follows a young boy, Agu (Abraham Attah), who escapes into the jungle when a violent civil war reaches his home village in an unnamed African country.