This is the start of a new monthly series, where I review new shows labeled the good, the too bad, and the ugly. Actually, last month’s column, when I reviewed the three latest Marvel series, Loki season two (good), Secret Invasion (too bad), and Echo (ugly), can be considered the first one – I just hadn’t thought of this title yet.
By way of definition, Good is a show that if you like this particular genre, you should enjoy, Too Bad is a show that could have (or should have) been good but somehow misses the mark, and Ugly is a show that is either an ill-conceived mess or has something about it that makes it unappealing. Some of the shows I call “ugly” could also be placed in the “too bad” category, but then I wouldn’t have such a nifty title. I think as these reviews take shape, you’ll start to see the distinction between “too bad” and “ugly.”
There are some spoilers ahead…
The Good |
Griselda (Netflix)
Sofia Vergara gives a bravura performance in this heavily fictionalized miniseries about real-life drug lord, Griselda Blanco, referred to as “Godmother,” during what was known as the “cocaine cowboys” era of the late 1970s and ‘80s. This quote appears on the screen leading into the first episode and sets the stage for what is to come – “The only man I was ever afraid of was a woman, Griselda Blanco.” – Pablo Escobar (drug kingpin).
The series (in Spanish with subtitles or dubbed in English) chronicles Griselda’s stunning and violent rise from an abused former brothel worker married to a drug trafficker in Medellin Columbia, to one of the most feared members of the drug underworld, controlling the Miami cocaine trade.
As the drama gets underway, Griselda, having just killed her abusive husband, escapes to Miami with her three sons. She’s taken in by her friend Carmen (Paulina Davila) who also fled a husband in the drug trade, and now has a legitimate business as a travel agent. Carmen tries to get Griselda to leave the past behind and start a new life, but Griselda wants to start her own business selling cocaine in the U.S., and gain enough wealth and power so her family is never in danger again. She had stolen a kilo of cocaine from her husband, which she brought to Miami in one of her son’s suitcases, and hopes to sell for enough money to get started.
She is assisted by a bevy of friends, all former sex workers from Columbia, who come to Miami by the planeload (tickets supplied by her travel agent friend Carmen), their bras stuffed with cocaine.
But Griselda is initially unable to sell her product because neither the Columbian cartels nor the Miami drug dealers want to do business with a woman, much less let her control any territory.
But Griselda persists. She identifies a previously untapped market – wealthy white suburbanites, and tries to persuade the Medellin cartel to supply her, and Miami drug traffickers to help distribute her product. She manages to get one prominent drug dealer to partner with her, giving her the initial clout she needs to get started. But while she is determined to succeed, the most powerful Miami dealers are equally determined to stop her.
From there, it’s a tumultuous decade, as she has to bargain with less competent men who don’t take her seriously, drug dealers who try to rip her off, and a powerful Columbia drug cartel that poses a threat not only to her business, but to her and her family’s lives. By sheer will and overpowering personality, Griselda knocks down every obstacle thrown her way, often with extreme violence.
Griselda recruits an army of "Marielitos” (refugees who fled communist Cuba during the Mariel Boatlift crisis) – she promises them a better life and respect, coming across more as a crusading politician than a ruthless gangster. As she grows her own drug empire, and builds a reputation as a cunning and terrifying drug Queenpin, these Marielitos become her soldiers, guardians, and hitmen, helping her eliminate many of the drug lords who stand in her way (this period of the 1980s was known as the “Miami drug war”).
Griselda’s transformation from an apparent anti-hero single mom, rescuing other women from life in a brothel, and overcoming the testosterone-filled drug dealer world that sees her as little more than a nuisance, to becoming a murderous, power-hungry monster, is startling, and a testament Sofia Vergara’s acting chops – she’s unrecognizable from her role in the comedy Modern Family.
At the same time, a parallel storyline is unfolding, where another woman, June Hawkins (Juliana Aiden Martinzez), a Latina police officer, is investigating the murder of several top drug dealers. She the first to figure out that there is a new player in town, a woman who might be more than just a “girlfriend.” A female witness tells her, “she doesn’t walk like a girlfriend…she walks like a boss.”
Like Griselda, June has to put up with the misogyny and sexism of her colleagues, who don’t take her seriously – expecting her to write analysis memos and make sure the coffee is hot, but leave the real investigating to men. She gets involved in Griselda’s case basically because she’s the only one in the police station who speaks Spanish. She soon becomes obsessed with bringing Griselda and her criminal empire to justice. June becomes part of the newly formed CENTAC (Central Tactical Unit), a joint operation between the Miami police department and the DEA, which eventually compiles enough evidence to arrest Griselda.
At only six episodes, Griselda does not have the same logical narrative of USA Network’s superior female drug-lord crime drama, Queen of the South (also available on Netflix). The downside of so few episodes is that time jumps are necessary to effectively tell a story that spans decades. This makes Griselda’s transition from a largely sympathetic character into a vicious, paranoid, crack-addicted murderer, too sudden and jarring. It could have benefited from a few additional episodes to better flesh out this transformation and show more of the dichotomy between Griselda and June (on a broadcast TV procedural, this might have been June’s story).
While the last couple of episodes don’t live up to the promise of the first four that this would be something substantially different from the typical rise-and-fall crime dramas we’ve seen in the past, it is still enjoyable, fast-paced, gorgeously filmed, well-acted, and binge-worthy.
The Too Bad |
Mr. and Mrs. Smith (Prime Video)
Sometimes a series isn’t objectively bad in a vacuum, but simply falls short of expectations. This is most common with reboots and TV shows based on popular movies. You seldom have the original stars or movie-type budgets. And while feature films are designed as one-shots, a series has to tell an ongoing story, usually with multiple plotlines. Most TV series based on theatrical films can’t live up to the hype. Such is the case with this spy comedy-drama inspired by the 2005 theatrical hit movie of the same name (with Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt).
For those who do not recall (or haven’t seen) the feature film, Brad Pitt and Angelina Joile portray married couple John and Jane Smith, highly trained operatives working for rival agencies. Each believes the other to be an ordinary (and boring) citizen, until they are assigned to the same case and discover one another’s involvement. Once their companies realize what’s going on, each is assigned to kill the other – until they discover the real plan is to kill them both. Then they team up. A battle royale ensues, action-packed from start to finish. Unfortunately, this Mr. and Mrs. Smith has little in common with that one.
As the TV series opens, a married couple (Eiza Gonzalez and Alexander Skarsgard) seem to be vacationing in an idyllic setting. They are clearly meant to resemble Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, so anyone who has seen the movie is expecting a straightforward continuation of the original. It appears they are in hiding from the agencies who were trying to kill them, but when they sense armed intruders approaching, they decide to stay and fight (as they did in the movie). Here, however, they are quickly (and way too easily) killed. There is no explanation of who they are or who attacked them.
Then we switch to the real stars (Donald Glover and Maya Erskine), who are strangers, being interviewed separately online by some mysterious company – no person is seen, only questions popping up on the computer screen. They get the job (after we discover other organizations, such as the CIA, won’t hire them). They seem to have problems dealing with authority or working as part of a team, and she is determined to have sociopathic tendencies. They are assigned to act as husband and wife, and are given various missions by their new employer.
They received their invitations to be interviewed by email, get all their mission instructions by text, and initially have no idea who they are working for. This stretches credulity to its limit, as do several other aspects of the show. In the first episode Jane tells John she has no interest in any romance. By the second episode they’re sleeping together.
One of the things that made the movie so riveting, was not just the sizzling chemistry of its two stars (who fell in love while filming), but their characters’ unwavering confidence in their own abilities and that they can overcome any obstacle, no matter the odds, even as their competing agencies assign them to kill one another (and eventually try to eliminate them both).
Part of the problem with the TV version is that if you are expecting the star swagger, non-stop action, and sexual tension of the original, none of that is present here. The first few episodes have little action, and it never really ramps up. None of their missions are very exciting (or even interesting).
Making it more frustrating is that because Donald Glover and Maya Erskine are so appealing, there’s some witty dialogue, the soundtrack is good, and it has a string of strong guest stars (Ron Perlman, John Turturro, Sarah Paulsen, Billy Campbell, Parker Posey) – you keep expecting something to happen, so you keep watching. But nothing happens (until the final episode) and it doesn’t get any better. They also try to include scenes that replicate specific situations from the movie, but they seem haphazardly thrown in to little effect. It’s almost as if they couldn’t decide whether to make an action thriller or a rom-com, so it wound up being neither.
There’s a twist you’ll see coming from a mile away, and the season ends with a cliffhanger that doesn’t have much suspense. After the season finale, my wife turned to me and said, “I’m glad that’s over.”
If you are familiar with (and liked) the movie, you’ll probably be thinking it’s too bad, because with this cast it could have been a really good show. If you haven’t seen the movie, you might think this is a decent distraction. Check it out for yourself.
The Ugly |
Feud: Capote Vs. The Swans (FX, Hulu)
The first season of Ryan Murphy’s Feud: Bette and Joan in 2017 focused on the rivalry between the great Hollywood actresses Bette Davis (Susan Sarandon) and Joan Crawford (Jessica Lange) during and after the production of their 1962 horror thriller, Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? It’s well acted, and well written fun – high camp about high camp. Unfortunately, this isn’t that. The second installment of Feud, subtitled Capote Vs. The Swans, is neither well-written nor fun – and a mystery why anyone thought it would interest a large number of people.
For those unfamiliar with Truman Capote (most people under 60?), he was an American novelist, screenwriter, playwright, and actor. He wrote the novella Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1958), which was adapted into a major motion picture, and is most famous for his true crime novel, In Cold Blood (1966), also adapted into a feature film. He was a darling of New York high society in the 1950s and ‘60s, and was a regular on the TV talk show circuit during the 1970s.
The flamboyant, openly gay, often witty (and just as often, downright mean) Capote, became friends and confidantes to many wealthy socialites of the time – until he committed social suicide by betraying them in a 1975 Esquire article titled, La Cote Basque 1965 (named after the restaurant they all frequented), in which he exposed many of their secrets in a thinly fictionalized version of their lives. It was a chapter in his never-finished novel, Answered Prayers.
For those unfamiliar with “the Swans” (probably most people), it was the nickname Truman Capote gave to the his circle of female socialite friends – high-society members of the international set who often graced the covers of fashion magazines, the original influencers, many of whom vowed to ruin him as revenge for his article airing their dirty laundry.
Being ostracized from New York society and abandoned by many of his former friends was the beginning of Capote’s downfall, as he spiraled further into alcoholism and self-destruction, which ultimately led to his death from liver failure in 1984 at the age of 59.
Even this fantastic ensemble cast can’t rise above the material – which alternates between boring and confusing (as it jumps back and forth in time), and lacks any dramatic or emotional depth. None of the characters as portrayed here are even remotely likable, there’s no one to root for, and you’re left thinking what could have been a fun ride is just a jumbled mess.
The main cast includes, Tom Hollander as Truman Capote, Naomi Watts as Babe Paley, Diane Lane as Slim Keith, Chloe Sevigny as C.Z. Guest, Demi Moore as Ann Woodward, Calista Flockhart as Lee Radziwill (Jackie Kennedy’s sister), Molly Ringwald as Joanne Carson (Johnny Carson’s second wife), Jessica Lange Capote’s mother, and the late Treat Williams (in his last performance) as CBS honcho Bill Paley,
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