TV Review--The Defenders

TV Review—The Defenders

Marvel’s had a good run lately, churning out one successful super-hero property after another.  Their one mis-step was Iron Fist, which got such poor reviews I took a pass on it even though it was technically free for streaming on Netflix.  It may be free, but as the saying goes, time is money.

So I wasn’t very enthusiastic to tackle the Marvel mash-up of The Defenders, which combines crusading blind lawyer Matt Murdock aka Daredevil (Charlie Cox), super-strong PI Jessica Jones (Krysten Ritter) and Luke Cage (Mike Colter) with the protagonist of Iron Fist, Danny Rand (Finn Jones).  I had also skipped Daredevil season 2, because as much as I admired the first season of Daredevil, a lot of that was due to the contribution of Vincent D’Onofrio as Kingpin, and without him in season 2 I thought it would be disappointing.

Of the Marvel/Netflix properties I thought Jessica Jones was the best, with a damaged hero, an intriguing villain who couldn’t be beaten by simply pummeling him and whose threat to the protagonist was more psychological than physical. Luke Cage started out promising, but then killed its antagonist off mid-way through the series and replaced him with a much less interesting villain (the first villain was played by subsequent Oscar winner Mahershala Ali, who was more captivating playing evil slightly understated than the second villain who chewed the scenery; sometimes less IS more).

So, I had not watched two of the five series that were prequels to The Defenders, but I decided to give it a try anyway.  At a trim eight episodes, the series accomplishes what it needs to and then does not overstay its welcome.  The same genius alchemy Joss Whedon used to create the super-team The Avengers is on display here, as a highly disparate group of heroes finds enough common ground to work together.

The most interesting aspect to me was the technique employed when the four of them fought together.  There are two distinct fighting styles at play; Daredevil and Iron Fist are straight out of every chop-socky film ever made, with lots of kicks, flips, leaps, and leg sweeps.  On the other hand, Luke Cage and Jessica Jones just stand around and wait for the opportunity to punch someone really hard.  The combination is effective, mostly because the evil ninjas don’t realize that Luke Cage’s skin is impervious to blades, or that Jessica Jones can hit a lot harder than the typical 115-pound woman.

A second dynamic that the show didn’t seem interested in pursuing was the fact that Luke Cage had slept with three of the woman in the series, namely Jessica Jones, police detective Misty Knight (Simone Missick), and nurse Claire Temple (Rosario Dawson), who presence in each series knitted the various series together before the protagonists met.  His affairs with Jessica and Misty were sincere but casual, but supposedly Claire is something more special (it is clear when he gets out of prison at the start of The Defenders that Luke is REALLY happy to see Claire again).  Luke and Jessica have some casual flirtation towards the end, but by and large they act like they’ve barely met before, and romantic overtones are fairly muted in order to focus on the real threat.

That threat is The Hand, an evil organization that dates back centuries that is really, really evil and led by a woman named Alexandra (Sigourney Weaver).  They live forever thanks to some substance, but they used up that substance to resurrect Daredevil’s deceased girlfriend from season 2, Electra Natchios (Elodie Yung, mostly driving away all memories of Jennifer Gardner from the movie).  They plan to get more of the substance, but their plan to do so would result in untold destruction in New York City.

The Defenders does a good job of setting the pieces in place at the beginning, giving each of the four heroes (one can almost hear Jessica Jones’ eyes rolling at the word) a different path to get to the bad guys.  The four protagonists share one trait—they are all relentless when working on a problem, and this drives them to overcome major obstacles to arrive, almost together, at an executive board meeting of The Hand in episode three.

From then they form an uneasy alliance.  The show’s timeline is compressed; only a couple of days transpire over the eight episodes (or was it only one?).  Even though there are times for conversations and one Chinese dinner, most of the time the pressure on them from The Hand is relentless and the plot moves at a pace that seldom flags.  They get along despite their differences; ex-con and ex-cop Luke Cage finds he likes billionaire Danny Rand, while Daredevil, mostly operating as lawyer Matt Murdock, wears his heart on his sleeve while Jessica Jones sets a record for eye-rolling.

The acting is mostly first rate.  You expect that from pros like Weaver, but Charlie Cox struck me as much more affecting as Daredevil than I recall from season one, and Krysten Ritter inhabits Jessica Jones like a glove.  Mike Colter is not a great actor but projects a needed sincerity, and has the physical presence required to play Luke Cage.  Finn Jones does a nice job of portraying Danny Rand and basically a well-meaning dodo.  The one performance I thought was wasted was Scott Glenn as Daredevil’s blind sensei known as Stick; he seemed to sleepwalk through his line readings, although he might have been trying to show resignation or nonchalance. 

My biggest criticism of the entire project is their choice of the final shot of the series, which undercut a great deal of the drama that transpired at the end. But to say any more would be a spoiler. 

The Defenders not only lives up to expectations, but deserves a place alongside The Avengers in the pantheon of Marvel properties.  The melding of four Marvel heroes into one story could have been awkward or forced, but it was done with intelligence by creators Douglas Petrie and Marcos Ramirez.  I guess before we get a Defenders 2 we’ll have to wait until Jessica Jones 2 and Luke Cage 2; for some reason, I haven’t heard a clamor for Iron Fist 2.

The X-files: Savior or Curse?

“I got a hundred stories, and tabloid lies

I got witnesses to what the government denies

So I headed down to Roswell to wait and see…”

            Sheryl Crow, Maybe Angels

One of the more depressing bits of news about the upcoming television season was the announcement by FOX that, based on the success of the 6-episode mini-series last season, they would be bringing back The X-Files.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved The X-Files during its original run, although I did give up on it sometime before the final episode.  It is easily the single greatest science-fiction TV show ever, running longer than any other show (well, Stargate outlived it by one episode, but who cares?) and winning more prominent Emmys than any other ten science fiction TV series combined. Unlike every other science fiction show, including the Star Trek franchise and even the Doctor Who series, The X-Files was taken seriously, winning Emmys in prestigious categories like Best Actress, Best Writing for a Drama, and Best Guest Actor and being nominated annually in the directing and writing categories along with Best Drama.

So why do I find this news of The X-files’ resurrection sad?  Because it is based on last year’s six episode run, which consisted of 3 bad episodes, 2 mediocre episodes, and one that was . . . sort of good.  The brilliant thing about the early seasons of The X-files was a sense of urgency, a demand that a show about alien abductions, secret government projects, prognostication, fat-eating mutants, and killer cockroaches be taken very, very seriously.  The six episodes from last year missed this mark entirely.

I have been reconsidering The X-files since reading an article in a recent Atlantic magazine cover story examining the explosion in people believing strange things, impossible things.  I don’t mean alien abductions; I mean claims that President Obama caused the Great Recession (which started several months before his election) or that he played golf during Hurricane Katrina (which also happened on George W. Bush’s watch). 

The basic thesis of the article was that starting around the 1960’s, we, as a society, started empowering people who believed in UFOs, or Bigfoot, or whatever you call what hippies believed in.  We sort of used to insist that young people believe in things that made sense, like US Steel, fighting Nazis, and baseball.  But then we started letting people believe that UFOs were alien visitors, or that angels watched over people (one can only assume if this is true that they are really crappy at their job, given all the bad things that happen).  We allowed people to embrace their irrational beliefs, and now several decades later people are demanding that not only must they be allowed to believe, but everyone else must believe too.

Did The X-files contribute to this?  The show threw out all these weird theories about the government conspiring with aliens to create alien/human hybrids to facilitate the colonization of Earth (note—even showrunner Chris Carter admits the show’s mythology got away from him after season 5 or 6).  While the show’s denouements were notoriously open-ended, the general message was that you are insane if you didn’t believe in every headline run by the National Enquirer or Breitbart “News.”

On the other hand, there was something refreshing in the relationship between skeptical FBI Agent Dana Scully and believer FBI Agent Fox Mulder, mainly how they actually respected the other person’s beliefs and tried to win the other over through reason and evidence instead of decibels. Okay, I’d love to re-watch the entire series and keep a running total of every time Scully said the equivalent of, “Mulder, that’s nuts!” but overall they respected each other’s beliefs and tried to engage rationally.  People who think Obama was President when Katrina hit cannot be engaged rationally.

Yes, The X-files perpetuated the belief in strange things, but that’s because in the universe of The X-files, strange things occurred.  How could Scully maintain her skepticism after seeing all the bizarre stuff she witnessed as Mulder’s partner?  Frankly, half way through season 2 she should have joined Hare Krishna or the Moonies.

One of the brilliant things Chris Carter did with The X-files was to build in conflict by establishing the skeptic/believer dichotomy at the outset.  One of the problems with the first two seasons of Star Trek: The Next Generation was that creator Gene Roddenberry insisted that in the future humans will have eliminated all conflict, and the writers tried in vain to create interesting plots featuring characters who all agreed with each other.  It wasn’t until Roddenberry left as the hands-on producer that the show dropped the idea that there was no conflict among the crew and the show improved in quality immensely.

Was The X-files a harbinger of the fake-news-believing America we live in today, or is it a model of rationality and civility?  I lean towards the latter.  People who believe in conspiracy theories don’t need a TV show to feed their paranoia, but a program with rational people talking rationally can only help make the conversation about climate change more civil.

Unless of course one side embraces irrationality, in which case all bets are off.  I believe The X-files had a positive message of rationality; but then, I’m rational.

The 2017 Fall TV Season!

Okay, boys and girls, it is September and that can mean only one thing to anyone over 35—it’s almost time for the new TV season!  Of course, millennials will have no idea what I am talking about, as they only know a universe where TV shows come out on Netflix whenever the hell they get released.  But there used to be a glorious tradition of new shows starting in September, right after summer vacation, and then running straight through to the following May, without hardly any interruptions!  That’s right, they used to produce almost 40 episodes per season, then take 12 weeks off while people spent the summers outside, playing and having barbeques. 

Kids had summers off because schools let them out to work on their parent’s farms, so the whole idea of summer vacation is a tad anachronistic (unless you live in a Jeffersonian reality where the majority of America’s population works on a family farm).

Over time the networks went down to producing 28 episodes a season, then 22, until now when 8 episodes is considered a year’s work for some shows.  Slackers.

So what is out there worth watching?  I’m not as tapped in as I was when I would get the TV Guide edition with the FALL TV SEASON PREVIEW, but I’ve heard some things.  Of course, some of the new shows I’ve heard about are on the Audience Channel, and what the heck is that?

Probably the most prestigious new show is the re-launch of the Star Trek Franchise with Discovery.  Early trailers seem to indicate the show has a decent budget, and I am a huge fan of star Michelle Yeoh.  The problem?  CBS doesn’t want to clutter its dominant schedule with this science fiction stuff, so in order to watch Discovery you will have to subscribe to a streaming platform for $9.99 a month.  Memo to CBS: I am Star Trek fan going back to my first convention in 1975, but if you want me to watch a TV show either broadcast it on your network or sell it to Netflix or Hulu.  I am not going to subscribe to a brand-new platform that has nothing to recommend it other than the first Star Trek TV series in 12 years.  Oh yeah, the last two series (Voyager and Enterprise) weren’t that good, and neither was the last movie, Beyond.  Given this track record, I’d be leery about watching a new Star Trek series if it was on free TV.

Incredibly, the new show I am the most optimistic about is a Star Trek parody called The Orville, starring Family Guy creator Seth McFarland in a live-action role.  McFarland’s non-animated track record is spotty (A Million Ways to Die in the West, anyone?), but he is a talented performer (okay, I’m talking about his vocal work; as a voice actor, he really is astonishingly good) and heaven knows the Star Trek franchise is ripe for satire.  This was attempted before with a short-lived sitcom called Quark (not to be confused with the Ferrengi on Deep Space Nine), but that was before special effects became cheap enough for a sitcom to use.  The show co-stars Adrienne Palicki as McFarland’s second in command and ex-wife; her departure from Agents of Shield was one reason for my dropping that show, so I am happy to see her again.

A lot of what is coming can euphemistically be called “recycled.”  CBS is trotting out Young Sheldon, because the character of Sheldon Cooper on The Big Bang Theory would be MUCH funnier as a ten-year-old (note—that was sarcasm).  The Good Doctor features a brilliant doctor who is autistic, meaning he’s basically House with even bigger socialization problems (lest you think I am being unfair, this show is created by the creator of House).  There are a bevy of series vying to pick up the mantle of most patriotic supporter of our men and women in uniform (The Brave, Seal Team, Valor).  And, duplicating the success of last year’s APB (more sarcasm) there is Wisdom of the Crowd, where yet another white billionaire uses technology to fight crime.

Speaking of recycled, there are also a bunch of fantasy series vying to cash in on the strength of the Marvel franchise, but none look that compelling (possibly because I am not as versed in the graphic novel genre as the target audience for these shows).  Inhuman is taking the unusual strategy of being released to IMAX theaters before going to the small screen, which I can’t help but think will make the small screen seem even smaller.  The Gifted boasts Bryan Singer as a producer so it should be true to its origins; it also features Amy Acker, late of Angel, Alias, and Person of Interest, so I’ll tune in.  There is another show called Marvel’s Runaways, but since it is on Hulu and I don’t subscribe, I’m not going to get invested.

My nominee for new show with the most interesting premise that can’t possibly last more than a season is Me, Myself, & I, a show about a central character at three points in his life—early teens, mid-life, and senior years.  The fact that the elder version is played by John Larroquette provides at least the promise of inspired acting for one of the segments.  High concept shows like this really have a difficult time surviving once the novelty wears off, but I’ll check it out just in case.

This is not an exhaustive rundown of new shows—given the fluid nature of TV that is almost impossible (does Stranger Things 2 count as a new series, or an old one?).  I’m ignoring shows on platforms I can’t access like HBO or Hulu, I’m ignoring things that just sound too dull to describe, and as I said there are channels I don’t even know about out there. 

I’ll end on a final note—CBS’ Seal Team stars David Boreanaz, coming off of 12 years on Bones, five years on Angel, and three seasons on Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  So this makes his 21^st year in a row starring in a network TV series.  Not bad for a guy who was a professional dog walker when he got his big break (and someone whose career I said would be over 5 minutes after Angel was cancelled).

Reprise the Baseball Hall of Fame debate

One of the most fascinating things to debate is who deserves admission to a Hall of Fame, particularly the Baseball HoF in Cooperstown.  You don’t hear many debates over the football Hall in Canton, other than they elect too many quarterbacks and how long will they keep Terrell Owens out?  The Basketball Hal in Springfield, Massachusetts also doesn’t seem to generate the debates that arise every January when the Baseball Writers do their annual vote for Cooperstown.

The reason why entry to the Baseball Hall of Fame creates great discussions is that THERE ARE NO STANDARDS.  It’s like debating which film deserves the Best Picture Oscar, or who was hotter, Mary Ann or Ginger (Okay, that last one is clearly Mary Ann, but as the kids say, YMMV)?  It’s not like the system in place for the LPGA, where you get into their Hall of Fame based on reaching certain numerical career milestones.  Derek Jeter will be a slam dunk, but for anyone else it is debatable.

With the rise of Sabermetrics there has been more emphasis on quantitative evaluations of player careers, and while I do appreciate this I worry when it becomes close to the LPGA model where anyone with, say, a lifetime WAR of 60 gets in.  I’ve written elsewhere about my dismissal of Raphael Palmiero’s HoF resume, even before he failed a drug test after wagging his finger at Congress.  Yeah, he has 3,000 hits and 500 home runs, but what did he ever DO?  He made the post season three times and lost in the first round each time (and was never instrumental in his team getting there); he only led the league in a significant offensive category twice, and that was most hits in 1990 and most doubles in 1991; he never came close to winning an MVP award, and he only made 6 all-star teams in a 19 year career, and only started one. 

To me that is not a Hall of Famer, it is a guy who had a long, injury-free career during a high-offense era, playing in hitter’s parks, who was never thought of as one of the 3 or 4 best players at his position while he was active.  But, had he not failed that drug test, 3,000 hits and 500 home runs would have gotten him in to Cooperstown, probably on the first ballot (I suspect in several years the Veteran’s Committee will start fixing some of the steroid era omission “mistakes” like Palmiero and Mark McGwire).

I like to stress that the institution is called the Hall of FAME, not the Hall of good players who put up good numbers for several years.  In addition to outstanding offensive (or defensive) numbers, I want to know that the player made a contribution other than just showing up to play every day.  The rules for induction (what rules there are) say that entry should be based on a player’s whole career and not on individual season achievements, but those achievements do bolster a player’s Hall cred.

One criterion posited by Bill James in his book Whatever Happened to the Hall of Fame was, could you write the history of baseball during the player’s career and NOT mention him?  Some people have criticized the induction of Reggie Jackson, given his low batting average and high strikeout rate; fair enough, but could you talk about baseball in the 1970’s and not mention “the straw that stirs the drink” with the New York Yankees? 

Bill Mazerowski was a controversial inclusion in the Hall, given his frankly anemic batting statistics.  But he is considered the best defensive second baseman, a key defensive position, of all time.  But it helps that he hit one of the most famous home runs in baseball history, a walk-off shot to win Game 7 of the 1960 World Series.  An exceptional career absent post-season heroics may make a player a marginal candidate, but memorable post-season theatrics lowers the bar on how exceptional a player’s career stats have to be.

On the flip side, Jack Morris got a lot of support for induction into Cooperstown (67.7% of ballots on his last year of eligibility, just short of the 75% needed) despite posting fairly mediocre numbers over his career.  But he had two factoids helping him; his 10-inning shutout in Game 7 to help the Twins win a World Series in 1991, and the fact that “he won more games than any other pitcher in the 1980’s.”  But pitcher wins are an overrated stat, the coincidence of the prime of his career coinciding with a decade is just that, a coincidence, and his World Series performance in one game should not be a ticket to Cooperstown absent exceptional performance elsewhere.

It matters a lot to me how players were thought of while they were playing.  How many All-Star games did they go to?  How often were they in the MVP, or Cy Young Award, top 5 or 10, or won a Silver Slugger?  While these things shouldn’t be over-valued (Roger Maris and Dale Murphy both have two MVP awards and deservedly are not in the HoF; Mike Piazza doesn’t have any MVP awards but should have been a first round inductee), but they give a better idea of who was FAMOUS while they were playing than looking over a player’s stats five years after retirement and saying, “Gee, I never realized he was that good.”

ESPN analyst Keith Law, in his book Smart Baseball, makes the point that, while he was playing, Detroit Tigers’ second baseman Lou Whittaker was frequently spoken of as a lock for the Hall of Fame, along with his double play partner Alan Trammel.  Law notes that his lifetime WAR of 74.9 is the highest of any player not in the Hall, and if that new-fangled stat is too new-fangled for you, Whitaker would be in the top 8 among Hall of Fame second basemen in virtually every important old-school offensive category.  Yet, in his one appearance on the Hall of Fame ballot he got only 15 votes, a figure so low it disqualified him from future consideration.

Law speculates on why Whitaker received such scant support, citing a crowded ballot (for many years there has been a backlog of qualified Hall candidates, and since voters are limited on how many votes that can give some players get lost in the crowd), the fact that Whitaker’s skills were atypical for second basemen, and the possibility that there was a hint of racism concerning his attitude toward the mostly white baseball writers.  Here is a case where I would value contemporaneous judgment about Whitaker over the retroactive evaluation after his career had ended and vote him in.

Two pitchers with marginal Hall credentials are Jim Kaat and Tommy John.  I think both should be in for contributions other than their pitching stats; Kaat won 14 consecutive Gold Gloves at pitcher and is considered one of the best fielding pitchers ever (Greg Maddux eventually won more Gold Gloves, but his pitching stats are impeccable), and Tommy John had a surgical procedure named after him that is nearly ubiquitous.  To me these elevate Kaat and John for enshrinement even if their career win totals are slightly less than 300.

I hope there will never be universal agreement on who deserves to get into the Hall of Fame.  Except, of course, when it comes to players like Willie Mays; whoever voted against admitting him should have had his voting privileges taken away.

Buffy vs. Angel

As an analytical sort of person, I sometimes pose questions to myself that other, less analytical people, wouldn’t waste a second considering. Would it save driving time if I only chose routes that did not require making a left turn?  Could a baseball team win using essentially only relievers and no starters, that is putting a three inning cap on how long any pitcher would be left in the game?  There are no answers, although I suspect the most likely answers are a) not significantly and b) no, but wait a few years.

One debate I’ve had with myself for several years now is the question: which TV show is better, the first 5 seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or the entire 5 season run of its spin-off, Angel?  The general rule of thumb is that spin-offs and sequels rarely surpass their origins, but there are exceptions.  The Empire Strikes Back is generally considered to be better than Star Wars (Okay, A New Hope); Aliens is considered better than Alien.  Um, can I say Good Times was better than Maude?

I am limiting the comparison to the first 5 seasons of Buffy and not the show’s entire run for two reasons.  First, comparing the same number of seasons seems fairer than letting Buffy have the benefit of an additional two seasons of product (although the comparison isn’t exact as Buffy’s first season was truncated, so we’re comparing 110 episodes of Angel to 101 episodes of season 1-5 Buffy).  The more important reason is that seasons 6 and 7 of Buffy seriously sucked, so if I were taking an average episode rating those seasons would pull the Buffy average WAY down.

Obviously, given the entwined nature of the two shows, with shared writers, actors, and producers, they have a lot in common.  Both had relatively weak first seasons, although this is easier to forgive for Buffy as it was starting de novo, while Angel should have hit the ground running but took a while to find its footing.  Both employed an episodic format but had seasonal arcs.  Both tended to push the envelope of TV standards and practices in terms of subject matter and violence, although in retrospect these incidents seem trite compared to what’s allowed on network TV today.

During some down time I went back and re-read a couple of episode guides I had for both series, and decided to revisit the question of which show was better.  I COULD re-watch every episode of both series (I own them on DVD), but I have a life.  I did selectively go through my Angel DVDs, viewing a little more than half of the episodes in all 5 seasons (more in season 4, which was highly serialized).  My conclusion is that Angel was the superior show by a nose. 

I will concede that Buffy hit higher highs than Angel.  Buffy had a number of classic episodes, including the Emmy nominated Hush, the controversial Earshot (delayed for broadcast for several months after the Columbine shooting), and the spectacular end to season 3, Graduation Day.  Angel never quite reached those heights, although Are You Now Or Have You Ever Been and Smile Time do rate as classics.

Of course if you have higher highs, you also tend to have lower lows.  Buffy had a small number of klunkers, but they are there.  Angel had bad episodes too, but they can be somewhat forgiven because a) they usually fit into a seasonal arc whose overall quality made you accept some less-than-great story telling in service of the greater arc; and b) the episode that failed were usually trying to be a little more ambitious than the format or budget was capable of.  Angel produced a few cringe-inducing episodes during the season 4 arc, but given that they were dealing with an honest-to-goodness apocalypse you can get through them for the greater good.  As for Buffy, there is no excuse for the episodes Inca Mummy Girl or Dead Man’s Party.

While the characters on Buffy did grow incrementally as the series progressed, the characters on Angel evolved to the point where it was a tribute to the actors that they could change along with them.  Cordelia (Charisma Carpenter) went from spoiled rich girl to heroine, and Wesley Wyndom-Price (Alexis Denisof) went from comic relief to badass to tragic hero.  And Fred (Amy Acker) went from mild-mannered cave-dwelling physicist to Illyria, Bitch Goddess of the universe (which is quite a range).  The fact that the show could produce consistently good writing, straddling the line between drama and comedy, while swinging for the fences is an impressive feat.

Angel was, after season one, very consistent yet at the same time very ambitious.  When I say that I think Angel was a tad better than Buffy seasons 1-5, I mean no disrespect to Buffy.  Both shows should be firmly placed in the pantheon of great horror TV series (alongside The X-Files and Kolchak: The Night Stalker).  It’s like saying Willie Mays was a better outfielder than Mickey Mantle, a silly comparison that should only be made by someone with way too much free time.

Angel had a head start as it could build off of Buffy’s solid infrastructure, but the bottom line is I have to acknowledge the show’s consistency and ambition while also acknowledging that Buffy had a few imperfections in seasons 4 and 5.  Buffy had season-long arcs, but nothing like the hubris of Season 4 of Angel, which involved an evil goddess from another dimension giving birth to itself and enslaving the entire world.  The goddess Glory on Buffy Season 5 was nothing but Cordelia with some super powers; Jasmine in season 4 of Angel was a terrifying threat to humanity.

So, there is one less question to keep you awake before going off to dreamland—Angel seasons 1-5 is a slightly better show than Buffy seasons 1-5. 

Joss Whedon, we really hardly knew ye

There is something about celebrity break-ups that makes people choose up sides, despite the fact that virtually everything we know about the dirt is being spoon fed by press agents.  I don’t know who is right in the Woody Allen/Mia Farrow brouhaha; all I know is he used to make great movies and she wanted to adopt about 150 kids, so which was more emotionally stable?  People say Allen seduced his step daughter, but he and Farrow were never married, and in fact didn’t even live together, so there was no taboo relationship between him and Soon-yi Previn.  I’ll grant the ick factor, but that’s about it.

The past two days have been filled with the revelation that sometimes-genius writer and well-known feminist Joss Whedon has been accused of serial infidelity by his ex-wife, Kai Cole.  They were divorced in 2012 but this week Cole posted a blog addressing Whedon's infidelities.  This led one commentator to declare that given his actions, Whedon should forfeit his title as "feminist."

I noticed something after the huge success of The Avengers, a stupendous triumph for Whedon after helming a low rated TV series (Buffy), a short-lived series (Firefly), and a low-budget internet sensation (Dr. Horrible’s Sing a Long Blog); fans of Whedon took his accomplishment personally.  Whedon has a unique relationship with his (dare I call us) followers, one that makes us think of him maybe not as a friend, but someone who knows us and writes material directed to us personally.  That makes these revelations difficult to hear, but truth will out.

As disappointed as I am to hear of Whedon’s alleged philandering, even taking it at face value I don’t think that it makes Whedon a hypocrite for claiming to be a feminist.  The commentary by Laura Browning at AV Club, linked to above, mocks Whedon’s claim that he was surrounded by “beautiful, needy, aggressive young women” by saying those are the words of a predator.  But is it “feminist” to apply the term “victim” to the women Whedon strayed with, if any?  Were these women not adults, capable of making their own choices?  Isn’t claiming they were powerless against Whedon taking away their, um power?  We’re not talking about what Whedon is, we’re talking about who these women were, and calling them victims just because they are female seems demeaning.

Once again, we don’t know any specifics.  There was another well-known TV science fiction producer who had a well-documented libido, Gene Roddenberry of Star Trek.  For years he accused NBC of demanding that Majel Barret’s character be eliminated after the pilot episode because of their sexism; I’ve read that the real reason was that NBC executives knew that Roddenberry was cheating on his wife with Barret and they didn’t want him putting his mistress on the NBC payroll.  I’ve also read he had a casting couch and that virtually all of the actresses on the show were on it (I’ve always assumed this referred to the extras and not guest stars like Joan Collins and Diana Muldaur). 

If Whedon had a similar casting couch, that’s an indefensible abuse of his power.  If, as Whedon seems to be saying, young women threw themselves at him and he failed to get out of the way, that’s another matter.  Roddenberry often linked his views on male-female equality with a rather carefree approach to sexual activity; he once said he wanted the crew of the Enterprise to be 50-50 male female but NBC balked as it would look like something was going on, and they compromised on a 2/3 male, 1/3 female combination.  Roddenberry said he assumed that if the 1/3 of crew were relative healthy young women, they could handle the 2/3 who were men.

Or maybe Whedon is claiming the Krusty the Clown defense; when Bart Simpson asked Krusty why he endorsed inferior products, Krusty sobbed and said, “They drove a dump truck of money up to my house; I’m not made of stone!”  Again, not great, but not necessarily anti-feminist as it goes to Whedon’s weaknesses, not the strength of the fairer sex (kidding).

I can’t even start to comment on Browning’s claim that women of color object to his portrayal of the First Slayer as a Black woman whose status as a vampire-slayer was forced upon her by white men.  In the context of the show, the portrayal was seen as akin to rape and evidence of the weakness of men who can’t fight evil themselves but have to conscript a young woman to do their dirty work.  I’m not a big fan of season 7 of Buffy, but even I got how that plotline reinforced the concept of The Slayer was one of female empowerment.

Whedon famously said that with Buffy he intended to create an icon.  That’s amazing.  Most people in the entertainment industry just want to make a paycheck, not create an enduring symbol.  Maybe the split with Cole explains his drop in production; since The Age of Ultron (in my opinion easily the worst thing he’s ever written/directed) two years ago he’s hasn’t had anything in the pipeline.  At the risk of sounding selfish, I hope he gets back to work soon and comes out with that Dr. Horrible sequel he’s been promising for years.  There are lots of artists whose personal life I may disapprove of, but I still admire their art.

Whither the baseball trade deadline

Whither the trade deadline

In case you missed it, the baseball trade deadline just passed. You couldn’t have missed it if you paid any attention to the sports pages, as the number of transactions dizzied the mind.  If nothing else, the trade deadline always reminds me of the folly of betting on a World Series winner in April; even if you pick the team with the best pre-August record, trades made at the end of July can fundamentally revamp the power distribution in baseball.

The biggest transaction was all-star pitcher Yu Darvish going from the Rangers to the Dodgers, who had the best record in baseball before they acquired to best pitcher on the trading block.  The move represents so wisdom on behalf of the Rangers, who despite having a record below .500 are not that far out of the second wild card spot.  That second wild card spot tempts a lot of teams with poor records into think that if they can just put together a good month, they can make the post-season and then it is anybody’s ball game.  But the fact is that if you have a losing record on August 1^st, your team just isn’t that good.  

The trade signals that the Dodgers are in win-now mode.  The Dodgers haven’t been to a World Series since 1988, which isn’t exactly Cub-like in its futility but it is getting there.  Great starting pitching is essential for post-season success, and in prior years the Dodger formula was Clayton Kershaw and pray for three days of rain.  Picking up another ace, especially with Kershaw’s back issues, means the Dodgers mean business.

A team that doesn’t mean business is the Oakland A’s, who traded ace Sonny Gray to a little team I like to call the Yankees.  A few years ago, the A’s traded Josh Donaldson to the Blue Jays and the next season he won the MVP award and led the Jays to the post-season.  Let’s face it, with the A’s 23 games out of first place and having one of the worst records in MLB, the only way an A’s player will reach the post-season is through a trade to a contender.  They traded Grey for prospects, and once those prospects show any signs of talent they’ll be traded off for more prospects, and so on and so on ad infinitem.

The trade deadline is like the inverse of the draft, where the rich get richer and the poor get prospects.  I don’t know the history, but I would guess that it was never intended to be such a big deal.  It was probably decided that it would be really unfair for a team headed for the World Series (before all these layers of playoffs) to pick up a bunch of superstars the week before the series started, like Mr. Burns hiring nine ringers for his softball team in the classic Simpsons episode Homer at the Bat.  But you couldn’t ban making trades, so any late season trades just wouldn’t be able to play in the post season, and the line was drawn at about the 2/3 point in the season.

This wasn’t a big deal before free agency, because you didn’t just acquire a player for the season but forever.  But once the players achieved free agency, the trade deadline became a key date when teams with aspirations could load up on stars with expiring contracts peddled by non-contenders who didn’t want to “lose the player and get nothing in return.”  I’ve said before, I despise that phrase because it presumes that teams are entitled to own players forever, and they aren’t.  You get the star for as long as you have him signed for, no more.  If the player plays out his contract then goes, you didn’t “get nothing in return” as you got his services until the end of the contract.

And besides, you never get equal value.  If Yu Darvish’s contract expires in two months and you trade him, you don’t get Yu Darvish in return but a couple of guys who may be close to as good in a few years, maybe.  Which would get your fans to come to the ballpark, watching Yu Darvish in his last five starts before he leaves or calling up some guy from AAA take a shot against major league hitters?  Of course, if the team is too anxious to make the deal, maybe you can get more value than you should.

The bottom line is, no team ever won the World Series in April.  Or on July 31^st.