Ciao, 2015 – Blog
No grand proclamations this year.
I just want to get drunk, already.
What I won’t miss about 2015:
The utter implosion of horror television. Save for the increasingly radiant Bates Motel, 2015 was a disastrous year for horror on TV. American Horror Story: Hotel took its level of stupid garbage up to impossibly higher levels than what Freak Show puked out, which we all thought couldn’t get any worse; Hannibal was abandoned by NBC to the whims of its over-ambition, and collapsed in on itself in a sea of slow-mo and goofy character choices (how did Alana have time every morning to dress like a Bond villain?); Scream Queens hit the ground thudding, and never recovered; The Following sputtered out its disappointing last; and MTV’s Scream, while the most watchable of the bunch, was nothing special at all. What a waste.
The Vampire Diaries answered all our prayers and finally put Elena on a bus, but failed to fill her gaping void with anything worthwhile.
There’s still another thirty episodes of Pretty Little Liars to sit through.
Blood & Oil squandered Amber Valletta and a vintage 80s soap premise with a sludge of melodrama. I think I would have preferred to see poor Revenge limp along rather than that.
Hemlock Grove, which I have chosen not to review out of sheer mercy, thankfully tied the noose and jumped. You could have been great, baby.
Oh, and Under the Dome, hilariously and incomprehensibly awful as it was, was still fucking awful. I still believe with all my bitter little heart that it was intentional. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for those table reads. Can you imagine Mike Vogel and Rachelle Lefevre’s faces as they awakened to exactly what they were getting into?
But it wasn’t all bad, so I’ll miss:
The truly, madly, deeply bonkers Under the Dome season 3. What the fuck, CBS? What the fuck, Marg Helgenberger?
Speaking of science fiction, while I don’t cover them here, I’ve happily seen the emergence of some new sci-fi shows to love. Killjoys and Dark Matter were on-the-cheap Canadian trash TV, but they were bloody fun. The Expanse threatens to smother itself with political rubbish (think Caprica), but is so far a high-budget, impressive feat. And The Magicians is shaping up to be Harry Potter with gore. I never read nor watched Harry Potter, but I’d never knock back a bit of casual eye-gouging.
Where The Vampire Diaries fumbled, The Originals stepped up its game. A return to established vampire lore brought back some credibility from the escalatingly arbitrary “magic does this now” plots of yester-season. And Camille got some goddamn screen time. Hooray.
Pretty Little Liars finally confirmed to the world and its fading few True Believers that it is a total procession of shit. A hologram computer screen? Nice one, PLL.
Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is immaculate.
Movies have been looking up this year. Jurassic World gave me nostalgia twangs like crazy; I chose not to review Mad Max: Fury Road because I can’t think of anything bad to say about it; and Star Wars Episode 7: The Force Awakens, while flawed, is the only movie I’ve seen more than once in theatres this year. And I’m planning to go again.
Insurgent slapped Hunger Games’ dourness in the flaps and gave us wacky computer program hallucination treasure box realness. And the trailer for the next one looks even loopier.
It Follows actually scared me.
Oh, and Vera Farmiga in Bates Motel is sexier than any guy currently on the small screen. Even you, Elijah.
So all in all, the highs were wonderfully unexpected, and the lows, while disappointing, were hardly a surprise. 2015 wasn’t so crappy at the end of the day. What’s a hate-monger to do?