Byte Size: Idiot Box – Part V

A scattershot selection of newish TV programming.

Dec 28, 2023

Okay, look. I know it’s been a while (read: ten months) since I added to this “ongoing” series. But you try making two episodes of a new music podcast each week and see how you go with “bonus content”…. To whit, here I am, with scant single-digit days left in the calendar year delivering you all said bonuses.

Readers can expect the Part VI edition to follow promptly after this one, along with some additional In Review lists to round out the New Year transitional season. And of course: Happy Holidays; I hope you’re all well rested and relaxed; Please, for the love of God, make it stop, let me get off this ride already, etc., etc. Now, on with the show(s)!

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The Ark (Syfy)

Synopsis: “Follows the remaining crew of a spacecraft known as Ark One, who must become the best versions of themselves to stay on course and survive after experiencing a catastrophic event that caused massive destruction and loss of life.”

Anyone who knows me will be familiar with just how much I love trashy media. And let me tell you, folks, nothing hits quite like a painfully stupid sci-fi drama. The Ark—from the creative minds of the geniuses responsible for such resounding blockbuster successes as Independence Day: Resurgence (2016) and Geostorm (2017)—is quite possibly one of the most bone-headed attempts to add to the grand canon of science fiction in recent memory.

The show’s core premise of passengers fleeing a dying Earth who are stuck on a generation ship as it makes its way to Alpha Centauri is abandoned almost immediately for lazy episodic attempts at “adventure,” “narrative stakes” and “heightened drama,” many of which border on soap opera-levels of cheesiness and only serve to contort an already convoluted back story into unnecessary knots. Cliche writing and corny performances are one thing, but when you can’t even get the mechanics of space travel or basic physics right, the suspension of disbelief required for even mediocre fiction is a bar too high.

This one, sadly, does not come recommended, except for the one episode where (warning: spoilers ahead) another Ark for evil rich people shows up in space, and the show communicates this knowledge visually to the audience by adding what appears to be second-hand lamps and picture frames to the ship corridors. Incredible. No notes.

Beef (Netflix)

Synopsis: “Two people let a road rage incident burrow into their minds and slowly consume their every thought and action.”

I knew very little about Netflix’s Beef before diving into the miniseries earlier this year, and thankfully, that ignorance worked in my favour. It’s hard to describe the show in any detail without giving away certain plot elements, but suffice it to say Beef is about putting shitty people who make questionable decisions in an emotional pressure cooker and seeing who pops first.

Steven Yeun and Ali Wong give exceptional performances as Danny and Amy respectively, grounding their characters through moments of white-knuckle tension and gentle pathos. I also wasn’t prepared for just how dark this comedy was willing to go, but trust me: when it goes there, you’ll know, and it rules.

Daisy Jones & The Six (Amazon)

Synopsis: “Following the rise of rock band Daisy Jones and The Six through the 1970s Los Angeles music scene on their quest for worldwide icon status.”

Now, this is an interesting one. The show is based on a 2019 historical fiction novel of the same name by author Taylor Jenkins Reid, and while not quite a Twilight/Fifty Shades of Grey situation in terms of “inspired by” and filed-off serial numbers (IYKYK), there’s some influence and creative license taken here with the real-world story of Fleetwood Mac and the recording of their multi-platinum smash hit album, Rumours (1977).

For the most part, the series adaptation works. Strong leads, decent songs, and a great use of period setting details for immersion in that 1970s L.A. vibe. My only real issue with the show is how woefully it misunderstands the music business (even antiquated and/or romanticised notions of it), and how hard it leans into both the Tortured Artist and Manic Pixie Dream Girl archetypes. I just think there’s plenty of room in modern storytelling for emotional complexity without resorting to well-worn cliches, especially when it comes to good ol’ rock’n’roll.

Copenhagen Cowboy (Netflix)

Synopsis: “A young heroine, Miu, travels through Copenhagen's criminal netherworld.”

If you’ve experienced the vicarious mix of awe and confusion that typically follows any viewing of a Nicolas Winding Refn picture (Valhalla Rising, Drive, Only God Forgives, The Neon Demon), then you’ll know what to expect here with Copenhagen Cowboy.

It’s a patient, aesthetically minimal, hyperviolent neon noir but also a rural Danish character study and maybe even some kind of supernatural allegory for childhood abandonment and generational trauma? Beats me. It was completely batshit on first viewing and remains utterly baffling to me on reflection. I can’t even begin to approach a close reading of the show, and I’m not going to try.

The Diplomat (Netflix)

Synopsis: “In the midst of an international crisis, Kate Wyler, a career diplomat, lands in a high-profile job for which she is not suited, with tectonic implications for her marriage and her political future.”

Remember The West Wing? And it’s rose-coloured vision of how politics and democracy and human nature could all get along if the Right People™ just put their differences aside, thought about the Big Picture™ for a second, and got the Damn Job™ done? Well, The Diplomat isn’t that. At least, not quite.

What I enjoy about the show is how nakedly honest it is with the reality of political appointments, the difficulties of day-to-day career politicking, and the largely venal nature of your average politician. That’s not to say The Diplomat is as deeply cynical of political office as something like Iannucci’s Veep, but it is wary of how the business of statecraft and foreign policy is often conducted and isn’t afraid to show some of that mess. One for the hallway ‘walk-and-talk’ heads.

Yellowjackets (Paramount+)

Synopsis: “A wildly talented high school girls' soccer team become the unlucky survivors of a plane crash deep in the Canadian wilderness.”

Before I got perma-banned from Twitter (I’m not saying X; suck me, Elon) for posting (admittedly hilarious) guillotine memes (long story; don’t ask), I saw a lot of talk about Yellowjackets from media types “in the know”. Thankfully, the show’s first season managed to deliver on said hype with a wild cold open and engrossing time-jumping drama that lands somewhere between Lord of the Flies and Jawbreaker, all bolstered by standout performances from a few old favourites (Melanie Lynskey! Christina Ricci!).

Sadly, however, the show’s second season didn’t quite stick the landing for me. It seemed to forget where the show’s real narrative stakes are (the crash timeline, duh) and instead spends way too much time with B-plot shenanigans in the current-day adult timeline. There’s also the question of the supernatural looming over the entire series, and I felt myself starting to get this annoyed Lost tick again and nobody wants that. Mystery Boxes be damned.

Jury Duty (Amazon)

Synopsis: “Warning: spoilers herein.”

The less you know about this one, the better. Go in blind and have fun. Trust me.

Barry (Max)

Synopsis: “A hitman from the Midwest moves to Los Angeles and gets caught up in the city's theatre arts scene.”

I’m not sure why exactly, but I almost missed out on Barry entirely. I normally keep up to date with HBO’s prestige output, and I’m very much partial to Bill Hader in comic and/or dramatic roles. On paper then, a dark comedy that’s largely written and directed by Hader with him as both the lead actor and driving creative force seems like a total no-brainer. And yet, it took seven years and the imminent final season premiere for me to even entertain watching it.

But man, this fucking show. What a ride. You think you know where it’s going, and even when it feels like it finally got there, an ever-more precarious series of emotional highs and lows are waiting in store. Hader pushes himself in almost every respect and the results are downright terrifying. Barry is one of the boldest, weirdest, and resolutely pitch-black shows in recent memory. It’s the kind of thing HBO used to make and revel in critical adoration for daring to do so.