Doctor Who's season thus far--I am not thrilled

We are four episodes in to the reign of the 13^th Doctor on Doctor Who, which isn’t a large enough sample size for a definitive evaluation, but it is about one-third of the way through the season, so some criticism can be justified.  On the whole . . . I am not sanguine about where new showrunner Chris Chibnall is taking the series.

This is in no way a complaint about the new Doctor, played for the first time by a female actor, Jodie Whittaker.  I have the same complaint I had about the prior Doctor, peter Capaldi, which is that I occasionally find her accent impenetrable, but other than that she has been fun, quirky, smart, and in command of most situations she finds herself in.  Casting a new Doctor is always tricky, and they’ve had an excellent track record (in the 50-plus year history of the show, the only major casting mis-step for a Doctor was Colin Baker as the 6^th Doctor, and that was probably a failure of concept, not acting). 

As for what doesn’t work, let me start with a couple of minor things that really irritate me.  The first is the new opening credit sequence, which looks like someone just started messing around with some computer program that makes psychedelic swirls.  Prior credit sequences referred either to the Doctor’s capacity to travel in space or (for the previous credit sequence) in time, but this looks like a throwback to the 1970’s when they discovered they could do neat psychedelic effects on a computer and just went nuts.

I also hate the design of the interior of the TARDIS, which is dark, confusing, and not at all comfy looking.  I thought prior designs of the control room made it look bigger than necessary (if for no other reason than to get the standard reaction, “It’s bigger on the inside!” when someone enters), but the new set looks positively claustrophobic.  They haven’t spent too much time in the TARDIS in the first four episodes, since the Doctor didn’t reclaim the TARDIS until the end of episode number two, but I hope they make it look more habitable if they do spend more time there.

New showrunner Chris Chibnall has been checking off the episodes types as he begins his stint as the head of the Who-niverse, with an Earth invasion show, a show set on a foreign planet, an historical show, and then another Earth (well, Sheffield) in peril adventure.  Overall, I think Chibnall has picked up former showrunner Peter Moffat’s most annoying habit of creating preposterous premises but without Moffat’s ability to justify them eventually.  The second episode was supposed to be the last leg of a massive marathon race to find something, but the two finalists in no way gave any indication of why they were successful where all their competitors failed.  How either survived without the Doctor’s assistance in prior legs of the rally is a mystery, as is the reason for the elaborate rally in the first place.  The appearance of the TARDIS at the end is a deus ex machina and not an ending earned by the script.

The third episode, Rosa, was a noble effort to humanize an historical feature known almost solely for her name, but I thought it came across as heavy-handed and overly earnest.  The whole idea that the Doctor and her companions were fighting to keep the historical record on track when another time traveler was trying to disrupt history seemed too derivative of other TV shows like DC’s Legends of Tomorrow, or Timeless, or Quantum Leap.  Also, the whole scenario of Rosa Parks being arrested for not giving up her seat on a Montgomery bus was orchestrated, so if she had missed that particular bus it would not have been the end of the Civil Rights movement; someone else would have done it.  So the Doctor’s efforts to restore history weren’t really needed.

I also have major issues with the way the fourth episode, Arachnids in the U.K., was resolved.  So, there are these giant spiders in England, and they are killing people (not because they are evil but because, well, they’re hungry).  The 13^th Doctor has a strict “no killing” policy, but her method of solving the giant spider infestation is to lock them in a room and . . . let them starve to death.  She gets angry with an American businessman (played by Chris Noth, whose face is a little too familiar to be a credible guest actor) who shoots a giant spider near the end, but she had just said the spider was dying from suffocating because it was too large to be supported by the spider’s lungs, so it was sort of a mercy killing.  I appreciate her anti-gun stance, but whether the spider died by bullets or suffocation isn’t really a distinction with a difference and letting them starve to death isn’t a humane alternative.

She also maintained an anti-gun stance in the second episode when one of her companions used a weapon to incapacitate a number of hostile robots, which someone pointed out to her weren’t alive so it’s not killing. I do applaud the anti-gun stance in theory, but let’s be reasonable.

I do like the three companions, and hopefully they will be fleshed out more as the series unwinds.  Having one companion seemed to lead the creators of the shows into making the companion almost as “special” as the Doctor (I’m thinking of Clara, Donna, and Rose).  I can’t believe I am saying this, but Amy Pond became a better companion after she and the Doctor were joined by her husband Rory.  For now, I like the group interactions of a crowded TARDIS.

I was glad that Steven Moffat decided to step down as showrunner, not because he hadn’t done a good job but because he had developed a “swing for the fences” approach that made overall seasons interesting but precluded any single episode being great.  New blood is good, change is good, and the show Doctor Who is still good despite my many reservations based on the first four episodes.

But seriously, lighten up the interior of the TARDIS!

Let's stop with the reboots, okay?

Let me say something that we’ve known for some time: the world is going to hell.  I’m not talking politics, the environment, or the composition of the US Supreme Court (although any of those would provide excellent evidence).  I’m talking about the complete and utter bankruptcy of the creative people we rely on for our entertainment.

I understand the desire to reboot TV shows from the 1960’s, or turn series from the 1980’s into movies.  But this week it was announced that Disney is considering rebooting the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise.  This follows hot on the news last week that NBC is developing a spin-off of that long lost show Grimm.  

The AV Club article linked to above says, with what I can only assume is tongue planted in cheek, that the Grimm spin-off might “satisfy TV viewers’ unquenchable thirst for nostalgia.”  At least I hope this is sarcasm because how can audiences feel nostalgic for a show that ended last year?

Rebooting the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise would be making the same mistake so many reboots make, namely taking a property whose popularity is based primarily on the star power of the actors, and then remaking it with a new actor.  Rebooting Hawaii Five-O is one thing, because the original show wasn’t popular because of the charisma of Jack Lord; but remaking Magnum PI without Tom Selleck is just an exercise in futility.

When I (correctly) predicted that Johnny Depp would get an Oscar nomination for the first Pirates movie, a friend said I was nuts, that films like that didn’t get acting nominations.  I replied that a) Depp was a respected actor among his peers, and b) the film made $300 million domestically, and it wasn’t because of the script, or the direction, or Orlando Bloom or Keira Knightly.  Probably $200 million of that $300 million gross was due to Johnny Depp’s performance, and while Hollywood does not generally reward high grossing films with Oscars, they do acknowledge when a performer brings in the dough.

I’ve written before about Grimm, a show I find fascinating because of its flaws.  It was a clever concept, but the show runners would set up serialized plot lines then go back to a “Monster of the Week” format, leaving plot lines dangling.  The supporting actors were generally great, especially Silas Weir Mitchell, Sasha Roiz, Reggie Lee, and Bree Turner, but the lead actor (David Giuntoli) was fairly wooden.  On top of that, there was NO chemistry between Giuntoli and his on-screen girlfriend (Elizabeth “Bitsie” Tulloch), which is the embodiment of the cliché that off-screen couples usually have no on-screen chemistry since Giuntoli and Tulloch were an item off-screen and eventually married. 

So maybe a rebooted Grimm could work with a slightly more charismatic lead.  Certainly the concept appears flexible enough to be expanded upon. 

But just starting a series over from scratch because the producers want to keep the franchise going with younger actors is creatively hollow.  The only memorable thing about Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (I bet you forgot about the part after the colon) was Depp’s performance, and Disney managed to wring 4 sequels out of it (one of the “blink and you miss it” jokes in the TV Show the Good Place was a poster in Hell that advertised “Pirates of the Caribbean 6, The Haunted Crow's Nest, or Something, Who Gives a Crap, Now Playing Everywhere Forever").

Disney caught lightning in a bottle once with Depp’s performance in the original Pirates movie, but it is unlikely to happen again with a reboot.  Given that Pirates is just about the only Disney movie based on a ride at Disneyland that was successful (personally, I loved Brad Bird’s Tomorrowland, but the box office [$93 million domestic gross on a $190 million budget] shows I am not in the majority), creating a new franchise on that concept seems to me to be a risky proposition.

Reboots occasionally work (the Addams Family movies are a vast improvement over the original).  But I’d be willing to bet that for every successful reboot there are a dozen flops (remember the movie based on Car 54 Where Are You? The Beverly Hillbillies?  Bewitched?  The Flintstones?  McHale’s Navy?  I thought not).  Note: for purposes of this discussion, the Mission Impossible films are NOT in any way, shape or form related to the TV series; they appropriated the name as a brand identifier, but they only use the words “Mission Impossible” because they are easier to market than films called “The Ethan Hunt Adventures.”

Dredging up properties from the 1960s or 1970s is bad enough, but rebooting properties that began in the 21^st century is simply robbing too fresh of a grave. Surely Disney can come up with another ride at Disneyland to base a movie on.  Autopia: The Movie anyone?

Luke Cage est mort

In this era of “Too Much Television” it is hard to make too much out of the cancellation of a TV series.  No matter how good or how unique a series may be (after any TV show gets filtered through network notes, censorship limits, and budgetary limitations), there will always be another show coming along.  Between broadcast networks, basic cable, premium cable, streaming services, and so on, it’s almost impossible for any television show to offer a form of entertainment so individual that its passing makes an impact on the universe.

Still, the news that Luke Cage was cancelled after season 2 makes me a little sad.  It had a perspective unlike pretty much any other show other than Black Lightning, another show that dealt with issues of humanity in general and the African-America experience in America specifically through the prism of the superhero genre.  Here was a superhero as physically imposing as anyone imaginable, but he often agonized over how he used force. Despite all the machinations about control of Harlem and the drug trade therein, the show had an acute sense of humor.  Luke Cage generally avoided slipping into clichés when creating characters, giving the bad guys multiple dimensions and conflicted motivations.

The show was about an ex-cop/ex-con who was subjected to medical experiments in prison that rendered him invulnerable to bullets, explosions, or any other implement, as well as giving him super-strength.  Instead of running around in some lame costume with a mask, he openly performed acts of superhero-dom (sometimes with footage going viral) while trying to be a role model for the African-American community in Harlem.

The series lead, Mike Colter, had the physical heft to make Luke Cage imposing, as well as a genial, “aw shucks” persona that made the character more human than other superhero types.  He had a nice chemistry with Rosario Dawson’s Claire Temple, the character that crossed over between the Netflix Marvel shows and provided some cohesive quality.  In fact, Colter also had chemistry with Jessica Jones (Krysten Ritter) when his character was introduced in that series, as well as Detective Misty Knight (Simone Missick) at the start of the eponymous series.  If Peter Parker knew how much action Luke Cage got, maybe he’d re-think the costume.

The odd thing about Luke Cage was that the show made the same mistake in each of its two seasons.  In season one, Luke’s primary antagonist was Cornell “Cottonmouth” Stokes, the head of the criminal underworld in Harlem.  As played by future Oscar winner Mahershala Ali, Cottonmouth was a smart, calculating, charismatic rival who posed a real threat to Luke’s physical prowess.  But then (spoiler!) half-way through the season he is dispatched and replaced by his sister, Mariah, played by Alfre Woodard.  Woodard is a great actress, but her character was never smart enough to pose a real threat to Luke Cage.

In season two Luke faced another worthy opponent, a Jamaican named “Bushmaster” who used special Jamaican pharmacology to give him enough strength to match Luke Cage in a one-on-one fight, although his main beef was with Woodard’s character.  Luke spent the season alternating between battling Mariah’s efforts at consolidating power in Harlem and protecting her from Bushmaster.  I believe at one point Luke Cage says he should just let Bushmaster kill her just before he saved her life yet again.  As with season one, the worthy rival petered out mid-way through the season and at the end he is battling Mariah.

It’s frustrating when a series creates a number of characters who you like spending time with, then has them do stupid things.  Luke Cage was great at character building, not so great at understanding what characters wanted and what they would do to get it.  The show often got lost in its own convoluted plotting, which is maybe why the character of Luke Cage came across better when he was in the Jessica Jones series, or in the crossover series The Defenders.

Season two of Luke Cage ended on an interesting note, with Mariah willing ownership of her nightclub to Luke Cage (presumably to ensnare him in the underworld activity necessary to keep the place afloat), while Luke rebuffed the attempt of Claire to renew their relationship after being apart for most of the season (I don’t know if this was scripted or due to Dawson’s unavailability, but it definitely hampered the second half of the season).  Given that Claire’s role was often that of an angel perched on Luke’s shoulder urging him to do the right thing, the situation was set up for Luke Cage to go down a dark path.

But there will be no season three of Luke Cage.  I hope the character will appear in more crossover events like The Defenders, which (while somewhat erratic) was greater than the sum of its parts.  With Iron Fist and Luke Cage cancelled, Netflix has only 50% of its Marvel properties on-going.  I haven’t gotten through Daredevil season 3 yet, but early reviews are promising; on the other hand, I felt Jessica Jones season two was a significant let down.  Will Marvel maintain its Master of the Universe status with two of its four Netflix series cancelled and after the resolution of the Infinity Wars motion picture?  Only time will tell.

Mis-managing relief pitchers

I’ve watched a lot of baseball in my life, and I’ve heard a lot of announcers say a lot of stupid things.  But by far the topper was uttered during the 7^th game of the NLCS between the Dodgers and the Brewers, when one f the announcers (I can’t recall which) said, “The Dodgers have only scored four runs off Brewer starters in this series.”

Normally that would not be an insanely stupid concept but given how Brewers manager Craig Counsell was using his pitching staff, it provoked a loud guffaw from me.  Counsell, showing that he had zero faith in his rotation, was pulling his starting pitchers before the Dodgers had any chance to score off them. His game one starter, Gio Gonzales, was pulled after two innings and eight batters.  His game four starter, Gonzales again, was pulled after one inning and seven batters.  He yanked his game five starter, Wade Miley, after he failed to get the first batter out.  The Brewer starters faced, on average, 12.67 batters during the first six NCLS games.  No wonder the Dodgers weren’t scoring on them.

I don’t want to come down too hard on Counsell’s handling of his pitching staff, although I do believe it cost his team a trip to the World Series.  The Brewers were the winningest team in the National League, and part of that was a starting rotation that allowed the 8^th fewest runs per game, 4.04, a figure only slightly behind the Red Sox’s 3.99.  So the Brewers had a quality starting rotation.  But despite this Counsell felt the need to resort to gimmicks like pulling Gonzales after two innings in Game 1 for no reason and pulling Miley after pitching to one batter in Game 5.

The deal with Game 5, trying to get the Dodgers to platoon one way and then flip the pitcher, has been tried before, as mentioned in this article at ESPN on "bullpenning."  It’s not entirely insane, but it does betray a lack of confidence in your pitching corps.  Yes, the playoffs are different than the regular season, but the post-season is hardly the time to start experimenting like you are playing a game of Strat-O-Matic in your parent’s basement.

In seems like in the past few seasons mangers have gone relief happy in the post season.  Dave Roberts, the Dodger manager, was too eager to pull the hook in the 2017 World Series and possibly cost the Dodgers the crown.  Even Joe Maddon, for my money the best manager alive today, nearly cost the Cubs the title in 2016 by over-using Aroldis Chapman against the Cleveland Indians in the World Series.  I get the temptation; you have a lights-out closer who is effective for one inning; it’s the end of the season, so let’s get two innings out of him.  Instead of waiting until the ninth, let’s put him in in the 7^th.   There are three reason why this may not work.

The first is that baseball players are successful if they do what they are accustomed to doing.  If a relief pitcher is used to facing three batters in the ninth and recording a save, then it might upset his equilibrium if he is asked to pitch for two innings.  The Dodgers brought closer Kenley Jansen in for the ninth inning against the Rockies in the 163^rd game for the NL West title with a 5-run lead, and he gave up two home runs; was that because he was unaccustomed to such a large lead and couldn’t focus as well as he usually did?

Secondly, relief pitchers are effective because they are seen so rarely.  If Josh Hader is effective pitching to three batters a night, then no one on the other team gets a good look at his motion.  But if he goes two innings a couple of times during a short series, then the other team can pick up on any vulnerability that might be there.  Familiarity breeds contempt and, in this case, it may breed extra base hits.

Lastly, there is the psychological factor.  If you have Josh Hader in the bullpen, the other team knows it is an 8-inning game.  The prospect of facing a lights-out closer in the ninth adds urgency to a team’s need to score runs, which might make them do foolish things in early innings and take risks that needn’t be taken.

But if you bring Hader in at the third inning, you’ve lost that edge.  Suddenly it is a nine-inning game again, and there is no reason to improvidently try and take an extra base or pull a pitcher for a pinch hitter while the pitcher is on cruise control.  There may be an edge to using your closer earlier in the game than the ninth inning, but you lose something as well.

Post-season managers seem to want to drop the strategies that got them to the playoffs and start relying on their relief pitchers even if their starting pitching is one of the team’s strengths.  I’ve heard several announcers mention that managers pull starters to avoid them being seen a third time through the line-up; while it is true that, on average, pitchers are less effective when the batters are seeing them for a third time, what is true of an “average” pitcher is not necessarily true for Justin Verlander or Clayton Kershaw.  There is an old axiom in statistics: a man with his head in an oven and his feet in a block of ice is, on average, comfortable.  Average doesn’t apply to everyone.

So, will Dave Roberts learn from his foibles last year and manage his bullpen better in the World Series this year?  Frankly, after seeing Red Sox batters destroy the best starting rotation in baseball during the ALCS, I have a feeling Roberts may be going to his bullpen sooner in games rather than later, but out of necessity.  But we shall see; that’s why they play the games.