TV review: Blunt Talk

I got this advice from one of my professors in film school: Good comedy comes in two forms: either the crazy guy in a sane world that tries to make sense of him, or a sane guy trying to make sense of the crazy world around him. If you make both the protagonist and the supporting characters crazy . . . well, that's just too much craziness. Without a framework of sanity to provide some sort of structure, not to mention a point of reference for the audience to relate to, all that lunacy sort of cancels itself out, and the result is often more wearying than funny.

Now, I don't know if that professor was quoting some  comedy guru somewhere, and I'm not sure if he was oversimplying or not, but I'll tell you one thing: Blunt Talk, the new (well . . . not brand new. Sorry for the delay in getting this review out!) comedy from actor Patrick Stewart and writer Jonathan Ames, could have benefited from that professor's advice. The prof's words of wisdom might not solve all of the show's problems, but they sure would have helped.

Stewart (best known to some for his Shakespearean work, but best known to most as Captain Jean-Luc Picard in Star Trek) stars as Walter Blunt (or "the Major," as he is often called). Blunt is the host of the type of hard-hitting TV news shows that CNN and Fox News like so much these days. The show doesn't really deal with Blunt's politics, so much as the wacky adventures he gets into in his personal and professional life.

Blunt is the type of man who always means well but has so many vices that he's constantly getting into trouble. He's a borderline alcoholic, a casual drug user, a would-be womanizer, an absentee father, and more or less a consistent bungler whenever he tries to come up with his own ideas for his TV show's news stories.

The supporting cast mostly consists of Blunt's TV crew, entirely made up of eccentrics, as well as Blunt's best friend/ butler/ chauffeur, arguably the most eccentric character of all.

Getting back to where I started with this review, I think this show could work better if it was either a) about Blunt being an unpredictable loose cannon, and his hapless staff constantly trying to reign him in, or b) about the eccentric butler, producers, and writers surrounding the exasperated Blunt as Stewart plays straight man. But Blunt Talk tries to have it both ways, and the resulting wackiness often comes across as forced, as if the show is practically screaming at the viewer, "look at how outrageous we're being, now laugh, dammit!!"

The show is at its best during the rare moments when it bases its comedic scenes on more believable, more honest slice-of-life absurdity. In one scene, for example, Blunt visits a public restroom where everything -- the flush toilets, the sinks, the soap dispensers -- is automated, and Blunt's difficulties and gradually increasing frustration . . . well, the scene is directed, performed, and written astoundingly well. This scene, and a couple of others like it, had me laughing hysterically. For the most part, though, the show just tries too hard to be super-wacky, and I just stare at the screen. I don't quite dislike it, but I don't quite like it either.

Patrick Stewart is, of course, a superb actor, and his charisma carries the show a long way. The character of Walter Blunt is, I suppose, the inevitable culmination of a persona Stewart has been carefully constructing for a while now. Between his hilarious cameo in Ricky Gervais's Extras, and his multiple collaborations with Seth MacFarlane (who, incidentally, serves as a producer, but  not a writer, for Blunt Talk) Stewart has cultivated an image of himself as a bawdy, fun-loving man, a deliberate contrast with his oh-so-serious performances in works by Roddenberry and Shakespeare.

Look, I certainly don't mean to imply that this is a terrible show. The show is not without its charms. I can easily see some people getting a big kick out of Stewart's antics in Blunt Talk, and I wouldn't fault them for it. But I have to be honest: I am not one of those people.

We Get the Politics We've Earned

Let me ask you something, and I ask this with all sincerity: Why are we all still asking each other and ourselves, “how can Donald Trump’s crazy campaign be so successful?”

All of the objections, naively phrased as questions in our national discourse, are equally ridiculous:

“But he’s so belligerent! How can he keep getting away with that?”

“But he’s so politically incorrect! How can people keep tolerating that?”

“But he’s so vague every time anybody tries to get his stance on so many vital issues! How come more people aren’t calling him on that?”

To the many people on both sides of the political spectrum who keep asking these questions, I have to ask one of my own: Why in the world does any of this surprise you?

We live in a nation that increasingly tolerates and sometimes even admires belligerence – as long as that belligerence isn’t directed at us, of course. Oh, you disagree? When was the last time you took a drive on the highway or through the city and didn’t see someone honk at or give the finger to someone over some traffic infraction, real or imagined? More to the point, when was the last time you participated in or even just read a disagreement online that didn’t rapidly devolve into insults and name-calling? Heck, people can’t even get on the IMDb and disagree about a movie’s cinematic value without calling each other an idiot. The issue is compounded ten-fold every time an online discussion deals with politics. Is it any wonder that a political campaign that finally represents this disgusting aspect of American culture is doing so well? Every time Trump decides to deflect a question on the issues by insulting his opponents and calling them names, he’s not in any way being a singularly infantile individual – he’s representing how millions of Americans routinely view as acceptable political debate.

Let’s be honest, when Trump thwarts sincere attempts to discuss the details of a legitimate issue, or the pros and cons of a certain viewpoint, he’s just doing what countless other Americans do. Ever try to engage in intellectual discourse with someone with an opposing viewpoint? How long does it take before you hear some variation of the phrase “just like a damn liberal!” (or the opposite equivalent)? If it’s longer than five minutes, I’m impressed, if it’s longer than ten, I’m shocked.

And speaking of things that can be shocking, the amount of pure, undisguised, unapologetic hypocrisy in today’s national politics is staggeringly astounding. The number of instances of such political hypocrisy daily making headlines is far too high to enumerate, but let me provide one example: the current dilemma of replacing Justice Scalia. Look at how many prominent Republicans are ignoring congressional responsibility, constitutional law, and historical precedent all in the name of declaring that the current U.S. President shouldn’t be allowed to replace Scalia. No, for some reason no one has yet been able or willing to explain, this president should be forced to forfeit his clearly defined role in replacing a Supreme Court justice. That privilege should go to the next guy. You know, to make sure the procedure reflects the will of the American people.

Let’s be clear and honest about this issue: Not a single argument has ever been presented to demonstrate exactly why President Obama, now twice-elected, somehow represents the will of the people less than whoever the next president may be. The very Republicans who claim to cherish both the American Constitution and the American people gleefully and unapologetically defy both of the above, for one clear reason, and one reason only: The current President is a Democrat, and will thus most likely appoint a liberal to the position. The next President – well, he just might be a Republican, and wouldn’t that be just fine and dandy! Everybody knows that this, and not any sort of respect for the rule of law or the will of the people, is the one and only reason for the GOP’s stance on Scalia’s replacement. And here’s where the hypocrisy comes in: Can you imagine the reactions of these very same Republicans if the left tried to pull this stunt with a Republican president? Do we honestly think that if the situation was reversed, these congressmen would say, “wait until the next guy, makes sense to me!”

We all know better.

And lest you think I’ve strayed from my point, I haven’t. Yes, we were talking about Donald Trump. Trump flip-flops on an issue, and people squeal and shriek, and point fingers, and say, “look what he’s doing, he’s just saying whatever he thinks is politically convenient, without an ounce of consistency or sincerity!”

Well, duh. That’s what modern-day American politics is, my friend. Donald Trump is in no way unique in any of these seeming idiosyncrasies. He’s just the most blatant example.

God help us all.

new to DVD: Extraordinary Tales

Let's be honest, animation isn't really respected as a cinematic art form. Oh, sure, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences hands out Oscars for animated short films every year, but who watches those? (Well, I sometimes do, but the point is that most mainstream moviegoers don't). Maybe you're a fan of Disney or Bugs Bunny or Pixar or the DC/ Warner Brothers animated series, but most of us fall into one of two categories, either outright dismissing animation as juvenile entertainment, or semi-secretly liking it, yet all too ready to go on the defensive if somebody raises an eyebrow as if to say, "oh, you watch that?"

^{Raul Garcia is here to defy those expectations. With Extraordinary Tales, his animated adaptation of several short stories by Edgar Allan Poe, Garcia presents a flawed but admirable and enjoyable reminder that an animated film doesn't have to have cutesy songs and a Disney formula plot.}

^{I think this is a very good movie, but yes, I said that there are flaws, and I meant that. Those flaws, in this case, prevent the very good from becoming Great, but at the risk of being accused as a nit-picker, I think those flaws should be addressed.}

^{The movie presents five Poe stories, each one with a different visual style. But first, we are treated with an original story as a framing device -- an extended dialogue between Death and Poe himself. Death, for the most part, does not appear on screen, and is instead visually represented by a group of statues of women, located in a graveyard. I know that sounds extremely odd, but with the voice provided by the soothing, almost seductive, tones of Cornelia Funke, it sort of works.}

  

^{Less satisfying is the visual representation of Poe as a raven. Yes, it's an inside joke, but not a particularly funny or insightful one. In these framing sequences, Death tries to convince Poe that he is obsessed with the topic of death, and Poe adamantly denies it. The dialogue becomes a bit redundant -- actually not much more sophisticated than "yes you are," "no I'm not," in the actual meaning behind the characters' words -- but it still somehow comes across as an earnest discussion of Poe's psyche.}

^{In each case, the Poe adaptations that follow these scenes (invariably introduced with admittedly clumsy segues in the dialogue) are presented as individual works of art in their own right; each segment even comes with its own set of opening credits.}

<sup>First up is the best of the lot, "The Fall of the House of Usher." You know those claymation/ stop-motion 3-D cartoons Tim Burton makes? Well, those seem to be the visual inspiration behind this first segment, which is indeed quite Burtonesque. I loved this sequence, which gets nearly every element perfectly right. Christopher Lee gives one of his best performances as the narrator of this tale of madness, and we start to realize that Sergio de la Puente (whose score runs throughout all of the segments) just may have been born specifically to score Poe stories.

Unfortunately -- and this does make me wonder just how Garcia decided to order the segments -- the best segment is followed by the worst. Bela Lugosi is usually an under-rated actor (even his work for the notorious schlockmeister Ed Wood was better than the material he was saddled with), but here he really does give his worst performance, as narrator of "The Tell-Tale Heart." This is a shame, since the story is one of the best, and paired here with mostly very good visuals, mostly in stark black & white (not even any greys). But Lugosi really struggles here, his accent thicker than usual, and his performance stressing all the wrong words, as if he doesn't understand the meaning of what he's reading. What's worse, his narration is taken from an old radio recording, and the audio quality is horrible. I assume that the technology necessary to clean up the old recording and make it sound really good exists, and that Garcia instead chose not to clean it up, for the sake of atmosphere, or authenticity, or whatever, but the result is difficult to listen to. Also, just to nitpick, but why do the characters' expressions almost never change? It seems like lazy animation unworthy of the rest of the film.

Things start to get back on track again with the next segment, "The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar," in which every frame looks exactly like a Classics Illustrated comic book. This is no small feat -- many filmmakers, even including Frank Miller, who is himself a comic book artist, have tried and failed to duplicate the look of a comic book, and Garcia nails it perfectly. Narrator Julian Sands isn't as good as Christopher Lee, but he's a vast improvement over Lugosi's narration.

"The Pit and the Pendulum" seems inspired by those ultra-realistic video games they have these days, where the animated characters and backgrounds look almost more like real people and objects, rather than animated figures. It's a bit frustrating that the visual adventures of the main character don't quite mesh with what the narrator is telling us is supposed to be happening on the screen. I'm not a stickler for adaptations being close to the original material, but when you've got a narrator straight out reading the original material, yes, the visuals should match. Still, this is a highly entertaining segment, with a creepy atmosphere worthy of Poe.</sup>

The next and final segment is one of the best, with two different inspirations behind the style: The people seem out of a Ralph Bakshi feature film, all gangly limbs, and slightly grotesque yet realistic body language. The backgrounds, meanwhile, are all water-color paintings. This is a truly excellent segment, the best at nailing the precise macabre of Edgar Allan Poe. My only problem with this segment is that it eschews narration altogether, which may be a mistake, if any of the viewers are unfamiliar with the source material. I was never lost, but I couldn't help but wonder about potential viewers who'd never read, or who didn't quite remember the details of, the original story. Would they understand the true significance of the ghostly figure? Would they be able to comprehend that Prince Prospero and his friends are supposed to be almost as much villains as they are victims? I honestly don't know.

Still, one final word of clarification: I know I spend a lot of time talking about this movie's weaknesses, but I want to emphasize that I consider them all minor. Raul Garcia has done something extraordinary here. Extraordinary Tales is one of the best animated movies -- and also one of the best Poe adaptations -- I have ever seen. Watch this movie.