Why couldn't it have been Father Gabriel?
Wow. So the creators of 'The Walking Dead' really know how to break our hearts. Regular viewers of the never-ending zombie series will be used to grieving by now, but the latest death has proved to be way too much for some fans.
Rick faces ever more difficult hurdles in this season's 'The Walking Dead'
We're only three episodes into 'The Walking Dead' season six, and already one of the best characters has seemingly been killed off. While everyone was hoping that the reckless and seriously dodgy Father Gabriel (Seth Gilliam) would be the next to bite the dust, producers have taken the story completely the other way and wiped off one of the only remaining members of the original cast. We can only hope that we haven't seen the last of him.
Seth Gilliam - 'The Walking Dead' Season Six Premiere and Ultimate Fan Event at Madison Square Garden - Arrivals at Madison Square Garden, The Walking Dead - New York City, New York, United States - Friday 9th October 2015
On the outside, Alice Howland appears to have an idyllic life. A beautiful family life with a husband and three older children, and a job that has provided her with such joy over the years. She's a linguistics professor, well respected for her knowledge of the world of language. However, soon she finds herself forgetting even the simplest of words and decides to get checked out by a doctor to see what might be wrong with her. On discovering that she has been diagnosed with Early-Onset Alzheimer's Disease, she finds herself struggling to deal with the idea of losing out on the rest of her career, being so highly respected in her field. She starts to drift further and further from her own identity, forgetting who she has become with the knowledge that it's only going to get worse.
Continue: Still Alice - Clip
If you thought 'The Walking Dead' couldn't get any more shocking, you thought wrong.
It's been a gruelling season for Rick Grimes and friends so far in 'The Walking Dead', as they are forced to escape yet another so-called safe haven and finally discover where Beth has been held captive - but it seems there's yet more tragedy for this doomed group.
'Coda' saw a tragic end for Beth
Characters are disappearing faster than they are arriving in 'The Walking Dead' nowadays, with season 5 proving to be a particularly bloody affair. The midseason finale 'Coda' finally arrived yesterday (November 30th 2014), but once again left viewers with a lot more questions than answers.
Fifteen months later, The Wire returned for its brilliant swan song. David Simon, Ed Burns, and crew famously dedicated each season of The Wire to an institutional failure (the drug war, the middle class, political reform, the schools) that has contributed to the extended death of Baltimore, and by extension all of America's inner cities. For the show's final go-round, the show takes on the decline of local media. Simon spent years -- several of them tumultuous -- at the Baltimore Sun before he started creating amazing TV shows. Naturally, Simon brings much of his personal disaffection and melancholy to his portrayal of that disintegrating daily.
Continue reading: The Wire: Season Five Review
More than enough, it turns out.
Continue reading: The Wire: Season Four Review
Sadly, the most passionate and persuasive argument in recent years against the current disposition of the government's stance in the so-called "War on Drugs" came not from a think tank armed with stats and big ideas or a celebrity eager for a cause, but from a TV show. The third season of The Wire, which aired on HBO in late 2004, continued its sprawling and justifiably lauded Dickensian crawl through its web of stories centering on the inner Baltimore drug trade -- following, with an unusual focus to detail and character, both the gangs fighting for territory and the cops of a major case unit assigned to busting up their organizations. But where the show became more than just an abnormally well-made, balanced, and realistic law and order drama (and there's no need here to heap more praise on the show than already has been done), and became something entirely different, was in the fourth episode, "Amsterdam."
Police major "Bunny" Colvin (previously a supporting player on the show), desperate to see some improvement in his crime-ridden West Baltimore district and tired of watching his cops waste all their time busting street corner dealers to no larger effect, institutes a new policy: If all drug dealers move to three designated zones in the district and sell there, they will not be arrested. In effect, he legalizes the drug trade in a large part of an American city. The cops don't get it, the drug-dealing kids don't either, as it throws into question the entire reality of their limited universe where the kids sell drugs, occasionally they get hassled or arrested, but everything goes on without change; as one of the dealers says, "Why you got to go and fuck with the program?"
The point being made here by the two creative forces behind The Wire -- investigative reporter David Simon and veteran detective Ed Burns, both of whom know this territory better than almost anyone -- is quite simple: the drug trade has atomized vast and forgotten swaths of American cities, like West Baltimore, and decades of simplistic, head-knocking, "tough on crime" enforcement has made zero difference. So, take a page out of Amsterdam's book, where a blind eye is turned to the drug traffic in certain designated areas, and see if you can at least make some poor neighborhoods normal again by ridding them of turf-battling drug gangs.
Colvin -- a strange kind of revolutionary -- gives a speech using the "brown paper bag" analogy Simon introduced in his book The Corner: Men drinking on the street will carry their liquor in a brown paper bag -- the cops know it's liquor but don't arrest them for public drinking because the men are at least making an attempt at hiding the bottle. It's the same with pushing drug dealing to what Colvin calls the "free zones"; it's a civil truce. Call it legalization, call it a truce, call it dealing with reality, Simon's point is that drugs will be dealt, and the more you can keep the trade itself from ruining the social fabric of already distressed neighborhoods, the better. And if you can weave this message into a thrilling hour-long crime drama, all the better.
As for what the remainder of this season dealt with, it would be futile to go into much discussion of that, since The Wire's storylines rival Tolstoy's in their complexity. Suffice it to say that one must watch the show as one reads a book, starting at the beginning of season three -- even with that "previously, on The Wire" intro which HBO prefaces its shows with -- is next to useless. For those who have already been watching, of primary importance is that the show's quality remains undimmed. Simon's writing staff has been beefed up by the addition of top-shelf novelists like Richard Price (Clockers) and George Pelecanos (The Night Gardener), who bring some welcome flourishes of both character-driven realism and pulp crime drama to the proceedings. A few of the show's more central characters get their arcs reversed, with the classically rogueish cop McNulty (a wonderfully snarky Dominic West) coming to a crisis of self-destruction, and striving criminal mastermind Stringer Bell (the iconic and contemplative Idris Elba) finding himself stuck between worlds, too street for the business world and too thoughtful for the street. And although several long-running characters continue to pop up -- like free-range gunslingers Omar (Michael K. Williams) and Brother Mouzone (Michael Potts), and Bubbles (Andre Royo), the junkie who serves as the closest thing The Wire has to a chorus -- story is always sublimated to the overarching themes, with the focus never straying far from Simon's central conceit of the American city in crisis, and what to do about it.
The Wire has cast a sardonic eye on the efficacy of current drug law enforcement since the beginning. In the very first episode, a detective who just used the term "War on Drugs" gets a quick schooling from another detective on why the term just doesn't apply, with the world-wearied quip, "Wars end." By presenting an idea for how one might, if not win a war that has done so much damage to American cities and the economically disadvantaged, then at least call an honorable truce, the show became not just the best show currently on television, but also possibly the most important.
Anyone else see Charlie Brown's shirt?
I'm not saying the Gulf War was a bad, or unjust, operation. It's more of a joke than anything else, and that's why when a film comes out attempting to glamorize the war and make heroes out of fictional soldiers and fictional events, I greet it with a bit of skepticism. Courage Under Fire (just out on DVD) is the first real Gulf War movie. It probably won't be the last.
Continue reading: Courage Under Fire Review
The recent video release of last year's Starship Troopers reveals a master at work, comfortably at home in his truest of elements: cheesy action films. Paul Verhoeven is the master in question, the director of such fare as RoboCop and Basic Instinct--his last really successful film, in 1992. With a $95 million budget, Troopers eventually grossed a little over half that domestically, but it has done well enough overseas to ensure that, like Schwarzenegger in Verhoeven's Total Recall, he'll be back.
Continue reading: Starship Troopers Review