This blog is sporadically maintained by freelance journalist Orrin Konheim (he regularly writes at http://www.patreon.com/okjournalist) who has been professionally published in over three dozen publications. Orrin was a kid who watched too much TV growing up but didn't discover the joy of film writing until 2003 when he posted his first IMDB user review and got hooked. Orrin runs adult education zoom courses on how to be published, as well as a film of the month club
Rather than target a general audience, this next review is going to target a specific new Patreon who asked me to review a Christian film: “The Girl Next Door” (2022).
This friend is a devout Christian and often quotes scripture (though, thankfully, not in an offensive or threatening way to me as a non-Christian) so I can understand the appeal of being involved in a Christian film industry. At the same time, I’m stricken with curiosity as to why such a film industry needs to exist.
When I was young, my father (whose media-consuming habits I’m often critical of) felt I watched too much TV. He said I could watch educational things like PBS or news instead. I argued then that there’s pedagogical value in all kinds of TV programs. The Good Place turned me onto ethics; Rough Diamonds educated me about European Judaism and the diamond industry that my Jewish relatives in New York are involved in; Lessons in Chemistry educated me about food science. More than that, however, most TV series show you windows into different cultures like inner-city schools (Abbott Elementary), certain corners of Europe (White Nights, Lilliehammer, Servant of the People); how Black life might have been viewed in the 1990s through a White lens, or how domesticity might have been viewed in the 1950s.
Perhaps, my friend is watching Faith-based films because he feels under some proverbial authority figure who has instructed him that this was the best use for his spiritual side? I also wonder if my friend is participating in a media culture that isn’t so much trying to be additive in his consumption; but rather, subtractive. Is it simply a matter of consuming films that avoid certain bad messaging. Though I believe that Christianity (as well as my own Jewish religion) crosses lines of decency when they push for censorship outside of personal choice, I don’t begrudge my friend for that.
I hate to quote Wikipedia (to get into why, would be tangential), but the site’s entry on Christian films suggests that while many films are pro-Christian — examples include Hacksaw Ridge, Silence, Chariots of Fire, Ben-Hur, and The Bible — these aren’t necessarily Christian films because they target a larger audience.
Here’s Wikipedia’s entry.
“These films generally also have a much higher budget, production values and better known film stars, and are received more favourably with film critics.
Many films from the Christian film industry are produced by openly confessing Christians in independent companies mainly targeting a Christian audience.”
Honestly, that’s bizarre! Think about it: None of the things that are identified as a “Christian film” are good things. Though Wikipedia is my only source, I know that having a smaller audience and smaller budget is not something a film maker would want.
The film that I saw was greatly hampered by its lack of budget. The score was either public domain music or what I’m guessing was an amateur musician winging it on his keyboard. Although their earnest showed through, the actors were melodramatic to the point of distraction.
And it’s too bad, because from a story standpoint, this had the potential to be good on paper. The story had some Innovative elements. In particular, the story centers around an agoraphobe who never her little shed in the woods (the location scouting also seems like it’s from a low-budget film). If you’re taking this into the secular world, this might latent trauma and a good film maker like a David Fincher, Lynn Shelton, Lenny Abrahamson, or Darren Aronofsky could probably do a lot with this. Without being extremely familiar with Christian theology, I surmise this would be some biblical allegory. It could also be Plato in the cave, for all I know. She speaks of not just leaving the house, but her dialogue focuses on the door. It’s admirably rich with symbolism.
There are also characters like “Joy” and “Curiosity” who visit her. It would actually be a solid premise for a children’s show. Ironically, what keeps these bits from working fully for an adult audience is how much I feel like I’m transported into a children’s show that’s a chore for adults to watch. That’s more of a tonal issue, than a good plot point.
But then she has one visitor that the other one’s lead up to: Jesus, himself! Although this is a Christian story, it’s admirable that it doesn’t start that way. The girl is just a troubled person and she doesn’t know Jesus at the start. If you’re going to subtly sell Jesus through a movie, I can’t say I’m sold, but this is a good way to do it.
But at the end of the day, there are plenty of film makers who are religious people. They could have had the clout to hire better actors and better technical artists to make a better film.
At the end of the day, I’m left to believe that there is something about a “Christian film” that’s marketing. I have a feeling that these Christian films are simply excuses to package low-grade film making into a product that’s worth watching so they can save themselves money. That’s my crazy theory.
As for whether my audience of one, Daniel, should watch it or more Christian films that are specifically labelled Christian films, I simply encourage him to critically ask himself what he’s looking for in his media consumption and if there might be richer experiences (even richer Christian experiences) if he sheds the label.
When it debuted in 2009, Party Down was one of the early runners of TV’s Golden Age with its strong ensemble, dripping ennui, and envelope-pushing humor. The show centers around six creative has-beens and not-quite-there-yet characters in Hollywood during their downtime at various catering gigs. In the original run, a status-quo-favoring Murphy’s Law kept the characters from getting too successful. To counter this depressing set-up, the characters fully embrace their purgatory with a sense of hedonism that rubs against the subculture of the week in hilarious ways.
To see Party Down return without a single change is worth celebrating, but the show opted for the more challenging route and allowed them to exit and find success. Or at least the possibility of it, however fleeting. The show’s hiatus lasted 14 years and a decade has passed in-universe. To keep the truth and fun in these characters amid such changing conditions is no easy accomplishment.
Stories are made and broken based on how they resolve. At the end of the day, Party Down resolved on the most pitch-perfect note for me.
Good news, everyone! Like Party Down, Futurama came back from the dead. For the third time, no less! The show continued to provide sharp evergreen humor balanced with seasonings of topicality: The show approached anti-vaxers, Amazon warehouse conditions, cancel culture, binge-watching, and a particularly clever cross-genre episode set in the old West amidst a Bitcoin mining rush. The show also continued to navigate the aftermath of the Leela-Fry relationship while keeping things fresh.
3. Killing It (Peacock)
Peacock’s ode to the bizarre scheme, Floridians is so popular that it grows in its sophomore season to cover more challenging moral implications while maintaining the sense of free-for-all fun. As the second season opens, the two protagonists (Claudia O’Doherty and Craig Robinson) are enjoying a brief respite of success as proprietors of a palmetto berry farm before getting entangled with a truant inspector (Beck Bennett); a white trash family (led by Dot Marie Jones) who are not above coercing our heroes for free health care); a mob boss (Tim Heidecker) and his adorably vicious daughter (Anna Mae Quinn); and the FBI because that’s where all these stories tend to end. The now well-established chemistry between Robinson and O’Doherty grows into the rare opposite-sex platonic relationship on TV that grounds the show with warmth. This is a season that establishes itself as next-level TV, however, by adding another layer to show their subtle moral differences and how unadulterated kindness can only take you so far in the business world.
4. Pain Killer (Netflix)
Limited series docudramas have made quite the dent in the TV landscape as of late with Inventing Anna, Drop Out, and the like. None have had the bite and emotional truth of Pain Killer. The show presents a tapestry of people involved in the opioid crisis. Matthew Broderick epitomizes the modern-day corporate oligarch who’s completely detached from the deathly consequences of his profit motive. He’s so slimy and aloof in this role, that he washes away any goodwill that used to come with his boyish features since the days of Ferris Bueller. Facing off against him and his corporation is a federal prosecutor in rural Virginia on the side of the righteous (Uzo Adoba). While the series is set with the proper gravity of the opioid crisis (AKA it can be a downer), there are glimmers of hope and pathos. It’s a thoughtful series, but also a kinetic one like a police procedural.
Justin Spitzer’s follow-up to NBC hit Superstore aims for a target in the upper-income bracket. Starring SNL alum Ana Gasteyer, the show takes place in the executive suites of a Detroit motor corporation. Our audience surrogates are put-upon communications officer Sadie (Harriet Dyer) and the blue-collar worker Jack (Tye White), who got promoted upwards through sheer dumb luck. As the series progresses, however, Jack and Sadie show signs of being more comfortable in their first-class digs than they do being among the common people. Rather than poke fun at rich and powerful people for simply being rich and powerful (the method of present-day satire like The Menu or Glass Onion), American Auto presents rich people as both being victims of their detachment but also a product of an ecosystem of enhanced scrutiny and increasing demands on the shareholders. Most of the time, however, it’s just a damn funny workplace sitcom.
6. Rough Diamonds (Netflix)
Rough Diamonds on Netflix.com
The issues of insularity, abuse, and lack of free will in ultra-Orthodox Jewish communities, have made a rife breeding ground for great drama in film and television. Rough Diamonds adds a European flavor to the mix as it is set in the shady world of the diamond trade in Antwerp, Belgium. The story centers around family pariah Noah who went straight from an insular, religious life into the criminal underworld of London. A dozen years later, he returns when one of his three siblings commits suicide. He soon learns that despite their holier-than-thou attitude (quite literally), his family isn’t much better at keeping their professional aims above criminal activity. The parallel compromises in morality that Noah and his brother must make, are a theme here. It is a tense pressure cooker of the show that provides a relatively even-keeled look at the issues surrounding the community.
The 10-year reunion at an all-girls Australian school turns into a semi-apocalypse whereby all the participants’ old grudges resurface. If Crayola’s top engineers ever arrived at a color blacker than black, that would be the best description for this show’s brand of comedy. Few shows so tonally bleak have ever been played out for comedy like this — at various points, the characters resort to eating shoes, hold a town hall over which survivor they’ll be eating, and make their peace with intended murder. Yet, it’s all juxtaposed against the kinds of delights of long-lost friends reconnecting and working out their struggles. To the degree that the Bechdel Test still is a thing, this show deserves credit for adding so much weight to each of its female friendships and treating them as a means to their end.
In its fifth and final season, the show boldly incorporates several time jumps to show that there’s light at the end of the tunnel for our struggling Borscht Belt comedian and her cantankerous agent. Managing parental expectations, commercial success and lasting love will never be easy for someone who ventures so far outside of the bounds of her era’s norms, but that’s what makes Midge a character to root for. That, and she can work a room with such charm. In its final season, Marvelous Mrs. Maisel was as sharp, funny, and warm as ever. In other words, it left us wanting more and that’s what any good performer would hope for.
Check out my interview with Caroline Aaron ahead of the final season
What do Sweeney Todd, Hair, Pippen, Annie, Godspell, Chicago,and Cabaret have in common? If you’re thinking “Virtually nothing”, you’re not wrong. This is why Schmicago (AKA Schmigadoon) deserves much credit for integrating such a tonally wide range of musicals and weaving them into a coherent story in just episodes. As with the best parodies, the production values and quality of the songs veer razor-thin to the source material while making notable departures when there’s an opportunity for a good joke. Cecily Strong and Keegan Michael Key play the audience surrogate and Strong in particular has to be given credit for her deadpan reactions. Several heavy hitters on Broadway (Aaron Tevit, Dove Cameron, Kristin Chenoweth, Jane Krakowski, etc.) set the bar even higher, and now how to add a winking dose of humor to an authentic show-stopping number.
Another reboot that hit some chords with me. The show re-imagines some of the beloved figures of our childhood (I’m assuming that everyone is a child of the 90s. If not, I apologize for your imperfections) as existing within a more coherent universe. In contrast to the original which struggled to maintain any geographical continuity in sketches that took place outside of the shared high school that the characters shared, this show takes place entirely within the confines of a university for toons, allowing for a lot more world-building. The five main characters (Babs, Buster, Daffy, Hampton, and an ascended extra in Sweetie Bird) all are dorm mates coping with the rigors of college. The strength of the show is how well they tweak the characters where needed: Characters like Bugs and Babs are the same, but Sweetie (who was only featured in one episode in the original) is maniacally bipolar; Shirley the Loon is more modern-day hipster than a clairvoyant Shirley MacLaine expy; and Dizzy Devil is a needy manchild with a kind heart.
Eight ghosts from different eras (the 60s hippie movement, the Guided Age, Wall Street excess, the Revolutionary War, etc) inhabit an upstate New York mansion with the ability to talk to just one of the home’s two owners. But as anyone can tell you, it’s the delivery that makes the difference. The eight actors (largely unknowns outside of Rebecca Wiscocky) create comically rich characters with rife potential for great comic dynamics (imagine a Victorian-Age snoot interacting with a free-wheeling Prohibition-Era jazz singer: You get the idea), and the dialogue never fails to exploit these possibilities. The eight ghosts provide the laughs while the couple at the center (Rose McIver and Utkarsh Ambudkar) provide the TGIF-ish heart.
This one’s gonna take some explanation, so bear with me. This show is a reality/comedy hybrid in which everyone in a Los Angeles court trial is an actor except one unsuspecting sweetheart named Ron. The goal of the actors is to A) Convince Ron that they are real at whatever they’re supposed to be (judges, lawyers, fellow jury members, etc.), B) Create comedy by adding bizarreness through the proceedings, and C) Give opportunities to show Ron as a good guy. Also, mid-level actor James Marsden is here and he plays himself. Only a little more conceited. Again, it’s one of those things It’s nowhere near the first reality show in the medium’s history to give its contestants or contestants a skewed version of the truth, but few have engineered the story arc in such a heart-warming, funny, and clever way. Credit where credit is due: Showrunners Gene Stupinsky and Lee Eisenberg were big forces behind The Office, and their next project looks to be equally promising.
The Afterparty (Apple), Captain Fall (Netflix), Florida Man (Netflix), Hello Tomorrow (Apple), History of the World Part II (Hulu), Krapopolis (Fox), Mulligan (Netflix), Night Watchman (Netflix), Poker Face (Netflix)
Everything I watched:
After Party (Apple), Agent Elvis(Netflix), Alaska Daily (ABC), Alex Borstein: Corsets and Clown Suits (Amazon), American Auto (NBC), Animal Control (Fox), Animaniacs (Hulu), Based on a True Story (Peacock), Big Door Prize (Apple Plus), Black Mirror (Netflix), Captain Fall (Netflix), Carol at the End of the World (Netflix), Class of 07 (Amazon), Cleopatra (Netflix), Cunk on Earth (Netflix), Cruel Summer (Freeform), Disenchantment (Netflix), Diplomat (Netflix), Florida Man (Netflix), Futurama (Hulu), Ghosts (CBS), Good Omens (Amazon), The Great (Hulu), Hello Tomorrow (Apple), History of the World Part I (Hulu), House Broken (Fox), It’s Always Sunny (FX), Jury Duty (Amazon), Killing It (Peacock), Krapopolis (Fox), Mrs Davis (Peacock), Mayfair Witches (AMC), Miracle Workers (HBO), Mubar (Netflix), Mulligan (Netflix), Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (Amazon),Not Dead Yet (ABC), Night Watchman (Netflix), Night Court (NBC), One Piece (Netflix), Pain Killer (Netflix), Party Down (Starz), Praise Petey (Freeform), Righteous Gemstones (HBO), Rough Diamonds (Netflix), Poker Face (Peacock), Saturday Night Live (NBC), Scott Pilgrim vs the World (Netflix) (very little), Schmigadoon (Apple Plus), Shrinking (Apple), Studio C (BYU TV), That’s My Jam (NBC), Tiny Toons Looniversity (Toon Network/HBO Now), Transatlantic (Netflix), Unstable (Netflix), Welcome to Flatch (Fox), Working Moms (Netflix), What We Do in the Shadows (FX),Yellowjackets (Showtime)
Next Goal Wins tells the true story of the American Samoan soccer team in a unique type of sports film. It’s not about a team that wants to win a big game or tournament. Instead, they have the more modest goal of not being the worst team in the entire world. In 2001, the team gave up 31 goals to Australia marking the most lopsided victory in the history of World Cup qualifying.
Michael Fassbender plays Dutch-American coach Thomas Rongen who (in one of many instances of dramatic embellishment) has been fired from three previous jobs meaning that this is the end of the line for him. His life is in turmoil. He lost a daughter in a crash, and his wife (Elizabeth Moss) separated from him. When he wants to return to the States, she levels with him there really isn’t anywhere for him to go. Ouch!
Next Goal Wins follows the beats of a typical sports movie, but only to a certain extent. It’s a travelogue that has pedagogical appeal in teaching us about the blip in the middle of the Pacific Ocean that flies an American flag but feels like a world all its own. More importantly, it portrays the culture with an overwhelming sense of joy. In fact, American Samoans’ priority for fun in sports is a refreshing contradiction to our cultural drive for victory (past Little League, at least).
The film is marked by three central relationships. Despite the fact that Rongen was happily married through it all, Waititi felt it gave him more of an arc to be separated or divorced but aiming to find amiability with his ex; The Soloist, Moneyball, and Begin Again are other films that have gone down this road. Secondly, Oscar Knightley plays the federation chief of Samoan soccer who serves as a foil (of the “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” variety) and comic relief. Lastly, there’s a transgender player named Jaiyah who is currently within the legal bounds of eligibility for a man’s team but will soon transition to a woman.
With increased sensitivity to portrayals of identity, filmmakers risk coming under fire today for putting together a White character and a marginalized person if they lean more on one or the other, whether it’s the White Savior trope or the equivalent of a Magical Negro character.
This film has faced a small amount of backlash (here and here) over the fumbling of its trans character. It’s certainly something that needs to be examined: In the case of Polygon’s criticism, they claim Rongen doesn’t apologize to Jaiyah for dead naming her. The article also faults the film for having a homophobic character in the first place, without accounting for the context that most people in 2011 would be far more uneducated on transgenderism than the present day.
Esther Zuckerman at Indiewire writes that the film “highlights (and tries to get some laughs out of) her otherness and seems unequipped to handle discussions of hormones and other facets of transness.” I’d challenge Zuckerman to find an instance where any jokes are in the script about her otherness. There are jokes about culture clash, but nearly everything in the script from the musical tone to the gravity of Jaiyah being misgendered is treated with solemnity.
We can quibble about these vague definitions, but the larger point might be that Taiki Waititi has a long history of highlighting LGBTQ visibility in his work. In an interview with Out Magazine:
Why does he love getting to tell these kinds of stories? Because he says he can relate to them on a personal level.
“We’re all queer,” Waititi tells Out when asked why he likes telling LGBTQ+ love stories so much. “Just to varying degrees of where we are on the [sexuality] spectrum, I think. I think, innately, humans have all got some degree of queerness in them.”
Because of that, he was excited to bring that queerness to his new movie. “With Thor, it’s great to be able to finally get Tessa’s character, and my character as well, where we’re both queer,” he says.
While Valkyrie getting her love interest was the dream that didn’t happen in Love and Thunder, we should remember that this movie is a Disney movie, and Disney is exceedingly slow when it comes to queer representation.
In much of his work. He mentioned that for a GLAD survey, that all of his characters in What We Do in the Shadows are queer in some ways. He added a queer element to the story Our Flag Means Death midway through and confirmed in an interview that Jojo Rabbit has a queer storyline. Some might consider each of these moves unnecessary. In the case of the former, the nature of the vampires on WWDITS is pretty clearly depraved and ravenous and might better be viewed without traditional sexual boundaries rather than as political talking points.
Perhaps, the recent WWDITS fifth season episode “Pride Parade” highlights the absurdity of the box that Waititi’s work is put in by others. In the episode in question, neighbor Sean is running for city comptroller and decides to put on a pride parade featuring his vampire neighbors, because they’re all gay. Despite the fact that Nandoor and Lazslo’s relationship has included casual hand jobs and Lazlo has a crush on Sean himself, being labeled as “gay” comes off as odd to the vampires.
This might be seen as very similar to Waititi himself, who publicly came out in 2022.
In his press statement, he said, “I’ve never really put a label on myself. I’ve never really felt the need to. I think if you’re attracted to someone, it doesn’t matter what gender they are.”
It’s fitting that in the episode, Nandor and Lazslo are not particularly cognizant of Sean’s definition of queer, but agree to it anyway.
In Next Goal Wins, Taiki Waititi made a conscious choice to elevate the character. The real-life Jaiyah was a high schooler who rode the bench and got 10 minutes of playing time in the entire tournament. Her on-screen counterpart was the team captain, Rongen’s best friend, and made two of the key plays to secure a win.
Furthermore, the film has a clear thesis. The legitimacy of the two-spirit principle — the idea that transgenderism has a Native American historical basis and is not a recent invention — has become a contested theory even among Native Americans. Waititi takes careful care to explain that gender fluidity is part of Samoan culture and even has a name (“fa’afafine”).
Next Goal Winsis an inherently political film. Many might call the embellishments of the historical record within the bounds of typical dramatic license for this film. What should be acknowledged is that Waititi chose this culture because he wanted to tackle the two-spirit theory and that the media praised and elevated this movie because of a transgender character.
Acknowledging this bias certainly doesn’t mean that there’s anything wrong or right about the two-spirit movement, transgenderism, or the fa’afafine.
In fact, I found it to be narratively effective and a beautiful story. Since forever, sports films like Bad News Bears, Mighty Ducks, A League of Their Own, and Hoosiers have relied on cranky coaches who’d rather be anywhere else learning to meet their teams halfway and accept a different team culture. In a narrative sense, Jaiya is as far away from Rongen’s experience so it’s an ideal relationship that thematically ties in deeper to the traditional coach’s journey.
Critics on the right would do well to acknowledge the bias behind the film’s purpose and enjoy it. Critics on the left who use their platforms as gatekeepers of cinema to enforce standards of marginalized representation (often, by their narrow definitions) would do well to not put someone who aligns with their goals, like Waititi, into an increasingly conscripted tight-wire act with so few options as to what a positive LGBT film can be.
