Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Raise Your Hand If You've Ever Been Personally Victimized by the 'Person of Interest' Series Finale


To paraphrase a line from the movie Mean Girls, I have been personally victimized by the month of June 2016. Thus far:

- My cousin Joe died of pancreatic cancer on June 8th. He was 26 years old.

- On Sunday, June 12, the day of his funeral, I woke up to the horrible news of the Pulse night club shooting in Orlando, Florida.

- That same day, I heard a 17-year-old boy from the Michigan town where I work jumped off a pier and accidentally drowned. He was the second boy from his high school to die this year. The other boy had been murdered.

- Then Anton Yelchin, the Jewish Russian-American actor from the new Star Trek franchise, lost his life in a freak accident, pinned against a brick wall by his own car. He was 27.

To quote Winona Ryder’s character in Bram Stoker’s Dracula, “Take me away from all this death.” I am so sick and tired of young people in their teens and 20s losing their lives. It’s all too raw with me.

 I probably shouldn’t have watched Season 4 of Orange Is the New Black, then.


I didn’t know going in that the show was going to kill off one of its major characters. One of its major, beloved characters. She was a lesbian character played by a lesbian actress, adding an extra layer of poignancy to a terribly sad dramatic development. It’s hard enough to get good LGBTQ+ representation on TV, much less representation portrayed by actually LGBTQ+ actors. I don’t want to overemphasize the point, but it’s an ongoing problem.

Silly me, I finished the season on Tuesday the 21st. I was already in tears when I approached the series finale of Person of Interest. But I had to know how it would all end, who would live and who would die.

My hopes for a happy ending for Sameen Shaw and Samantha Groves a.k.a. Root had already been crushed into the dust with Root’s death, in the episode that aired June 7th. At the time, I shoved that information into a corner of my mind and walled it off, unable to deal with the pain caused by Amy Acker’s character when my real-life family member was literally on his death bed in the hospice house.

At the risk of repeating myself, I find it stressful and depressing that television and books have dealt us so many awful endings for same-gender relationships when, to me, it seems important that young LGBTQ+ people see representations of life getting better after the hell of high school. I desperately want that for them. As the body count of fictional LGBTQ+ characters rises, my nerves increasingly feel raw and frayed.

The Positive: Sameen Shaw lives.
The Negative: She lives without the one single person she ever cared about in her life, and The Machine’s goodbye to Shaw (in Root’s voice) was heart-wrenching.

More Positive: Lionel Fusco lives. I honestly would have been crushed by the thought of Fusco’s son being fatherless. As the only living character on the show to have a child, I was really rooting for him. I’m glad he made it.

Unexpectedly Positive: Finch lives.
But not just lives!
But also…goes back to Grace Hendricks!
She thought he was dead!
I cried like a baby when Grace looked up from her painting and saw Harold’s face.

Expected, But Still Not Good: Reese didn’t make it. He sacrificed himself to upload the code that would shut down Samaritan, the bad machine. Like a certain other character portrayed by Jim Caviezel, John Reese voluntarily died so the world could go on.

I figured Finch, Reese, or both would die in the series finale. Anticipation doesn’t make it feel any better. John Reese and Joss Carter were my ultimate OTP of OTPs, and now they are both in their (separate) graves. I’m sad.

But happy for Grace and Harold.

But still accepting donations of hugs and warm beverages.

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Sense and Sensibility and Shoot - A Jane Austen/'Person of Interest' Mashup
Sameen now found the difference between the expectation of an unpleasant event, however certain the mind may be told to consider it, and certainty itself. She now found, that in spite of herself, she had always admitted a hope, while Root remained single, that something would occur to prevent her marrying Leon; that some resolution of her own, some mediation of friends, or some more eligible opportunity of establishment for the gentleman, would arise to assist the happiness of all. But Root was now married; and Sameen condemned her heart for the lurking flattery, which so much heightened the pain of the intelligence.

That Root should be married soon, before (as Sameen imagined) she could be in orders, and consequently before she could be in possession of the living, surprised her a little at first. But she soon saw how likely it was that Leon, in his self-provident care, in his haste to secure Root, should overlook everything but the risk of delay. They were married, married in town, and now hastening down to her uncle's. What had Root felt on being within four miles from the subway station, on seeing Mr. Finch’s servant, on hearing Leon's message!

They would soon, she supposed, be settled at Long Island.—Long Island,—that place in which so much conspired to give her an interest; which she wished to be acquainted with, and yet desired to avoid. She saw them in an instant in their parsonage-house; saw in Leon, the active, contriving manager, uniting at once a desire of smart appearance with the utmost frugality, and ashamed to be suspected of half his economical practices;—pursuing his own interest in every thought, courting the favour of Colonel Reese, of The Machine, and of every wealthy friend. In Root—Sameen knew not what she saw, nor what she wished to see;—happy or unhappy,—nothing pleased her; she turned away her head from every sketch of her.

Sameen flattered herself that some one of their connections in Brooklyn would write to them to announce the event, and give farther particulars,—but day after day passed off, and brought no text, no e-mail. Though uncertain that any one were to blame, she found fault with every absent friend. They were all thoughtless or indolent.

"When do you write to Colonel Reese, Mr. Finch?" was an inquiry which sprung from the impatience of her mind to have something going on.

"I wrote to him, Miss Shaw, last week, and rather expect to see, than to hear from him again. I earnestly pressed his coming to us, and should not be surprised to see him walk in today or tomorrow, or any day."

This was gaining something, something to look forward to. Colonel Reese must have some information to give.

Scarcely had she so determined it, when the figure of a person on horseback drew her eyes to the window. He or she stopt at their gate. It was a gentleman, it was Colonel Reese himself. Now she could hear more; and she trembled in expectation of it. But—it was NOT Colonel Reese—neither his air—nor his height. Were it possible, she must say it must be Root. She looked again. She had just dismounted;—Sameen could not be mistaken,—it WAS Root. Sameen moved away and sat down. "She comes from Mr. Elias's purposely to see us. I WILL be calm; I WILL be mistress of myself."
In a moment she perceived that the others were likewise aware of the mistake. She saw Mr. Finch and Fusco change colour; saw them look at herself, and whisper a few sentences to each other. She would have given the world to be able to speak—and to make them understand that she hoped no coolness, no slight, would appear in their behaviour to Root;—but she had no utterance, and was obliged to leave all to their own discretion.

Not a syllable passed aloud. They all waited in silence for the appearance of their visitor. Her footsteps were heard along the gravel path; in a moment she was in the passage, and in another she was before them.

Her countenance, as she entered the room, was not too happy, even for Sameen. Her complexion was white with agitation, and she looked as if fearful of her reception, and conscious that she merited no kind one. Mr. Finch, however, conforming, as he trusted, to the wishes of that asset, by whom he then meant in the warmth of his heart to be guided in everything, met with a look of forced complacency, gave Root his hand, and wished her joy.

Root coloured, and stammered out an unintelligible reply. Sameen's lips had moved with Mr. Finch's, and, when the moment of action was over, she wished that she had shaken hands with Root too. But it was then too late, and with a countenance meaning to be open, she sat down again and talked of the weather.

Fusco had retreated as much as possible out of sight, to conceal his distress; and Bear, understanding some part, but not the whole of the case, thought it incumbent on him to be dignified, and therefore took a seat as far from Root as he could, and maintained a strict silence.
When Sameen had ceased to rejoice in the dryness of the season, a very awful pause took place. It was put an end to by Mr. Finch, who felt obliged to hope that Root had left Mr. Groves very well. In a hurried manner, Root replied in the affirmative.

Another pause.

Sameen resolving to exert herself, though fearing the sound of her own voice, now said,

"Is Mr. Groves at the safe house?"

"At the safe house!" Root replied, with an air of surprise.— "No, my father is in Texas."

"I meant," said Sameen, taking up some work from the table, "to inquire for Mr. SAMANTHA Groves."

She dared not look up;—but Finch and Fusco both turned their eyes on Root. Root coloured, seemed perplexed, looked doubtingly, and, after some hesitation, said,—

"Perhaps you mean—my brother—you mean Mr.—Mr. Samuel Groves."

"Mr. Samuel Groves!"—was repeated by Fusco and Mr. Finch in an accent of the utmost amazement;—and though Sameen could not speak, even HER eyes were fixed on Root with the same impatient wonder. Root rose from her seat, and walked to the window, apparently from not knowing what to do; took up a pair of scissors that lay there, and while spoiling both them and their sheath by cutting the latter to pieces as she spoke, said, in a hurried voice,

"Perhaps you do not know—you may not have heard that my brother is lately married to—to the youngest—to Mr. Leon Tao."

Her words were echoed with unspeakable astonishment by all but Sameen, who sat with her head leaning over her work, in a state of such agitation as made her hardly know where she was.

"Yes," said Root, "they were married last week, and are now at Dallas."

Sameen could sit it no longer. She almost ran out of the room, and as soon as the door was closed, burst into tears of joy, which at first she thought would never cease. Root, who had till then looked anywhere, rather than at her, saw her hurry away, and perhaps saw—or even heard, her emotion; for immediately afterwards she fell into a reverie, which no remarks, no inquiries, no affectionate address of Mr. Finch could penetrate, and at last, without saying a word, quitted the room, and walked out towards the village—leaving the others in the greatest astonishment and perplexity on a change in Root’s situation, so wonderful and so sudden;—a perplexity which they had no means of lessening but by their own conjectures.


Inspired by this post

I just needed some fluffy "Shoot" fan fiction because...well, you know.

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

August: Osage County (Not Spoiler-Free)

Remember “Hardcover Bound 2,” the clever literary parody of a Kanye West song with a memorable music video? It contains the lines:

“They ask me what’s next on my reading list-
Ever start a book that you can’t finish?!
Caryl Churchill and Tracy Letts, I
Think I’ll make time for Samuel Beckett
Books can help you overcome lotsa things
You know, I know,
Why the Caged Bird Sings.”

I was vaguely aware of Samuel Beckett as the author of Waiting for Godot, some kind of experimental play in which the two on-stage characters are waiting for an off-stage character who never shows up. As far as I could remember, I hadn’t heard of Caryl Churchill or Tracy Letts. To me, that sounded like the names of two lady playwrights.

It turned out I had actually heard of Tracy Letts, though. (And that he is a boy.) Several years ago, my dad told me and my husband we should watch a movie called Bug, which he said was one of the weirdest things he’d ever seen. So we watched the film, in which Ashley Judd played the main character.

The movie was made in 2006. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was based on a Tracy Letts play. Letts had another play made into a movie in 2014, and Meryl Streep won an Oscar for playing Letts’ main character Violet Weston in August: Osage County. I watched the film version on Saturday, June 11, on Netflix.

August: Osage County is set on Kansas. I’ve never been to Osage County, but it’s the county directly south of the one in which the city of Lawrence sits. I passed through Lawrence on my way to Manhattan for my nephew’s 2012 wedding.

The rural county is the home of poet and playwright Beverly Weston and his wife, Violet, who are both white. Violet has mouth cancer and a strong dependency on pain pills. The pills amplify her tendency to say whatever’s on her mind, no matter how blunt, thoughtless, rude, or obscene it happens to be. Bev hires a Native American woman named Johnna to help him take care of Violet, since Violet’s care is seriously cutting into Bev’s drinking time.

When Bev disappears, Violet’s family converges on the house: daughters Barbara, Ivy, and Karen (only middle daughter Ivy still lives in Kansas), sister Mattie Fay, brother-in-law Charles (played by Chris Cooper, who previously played a Kansan in Capote), nephew Little Charles, granddaughter Jean, Barbara’s estranged husband Bill, and Karen’s fiancĂ© Steve.

Mattie Fay is very harsh and mean to her son, Little Charles, played in the film by Benedict Cumberbatch. I have only recently warmed to his charms. At first I was like, “Ha ha – Benadryl Cookingpot.” That he played the creep in Atonement did not help his case. (Atonement makes a good case for falling in love with James McAvoy or Keira Knightley.) Tumblr wore me down until one day I said, “BBC Sherlock Holmes – actually kind of good-looking. And he does do that sexy impression of Alan Rickman…” (See The Simpsons.)

Let that be a lesson to ya, kids – stay away from Tumblr and British television. They’ll rot your brain.

Little Charles is the family disappointment, and the one thing that makes him happy is his cousin Ivy. They are having an affair that the rest of the family doesn’t know about. In one scene, Ivy goes to kiss Charles but he stops her, reminding her they have a deal not to be affectionate around the family. Then he stares at her in a very dreamy and romantic way, finally saying, “I adore you.” In another scene, they sit at the piano and he sings her a song he’s written for her.

It soon comes out, though, that Bev and Mattie Fay had an affair years ago. Ivy and Little Charles are possibly – probably – half-siblings. Little Charles doesn’t find out, but Ivy does. This does not change Ivy’s plans to run away with him to New York. She reasons that since she’s had a hysterectomy and can’t have any biological children, they aren’t hurting anyone. And it’s hard to argue with her logic. I mean, they were both fine with the fact that their mothers are sisters. They know they’re at least first cousins. It’s not too big a leap.

It’s a pretty grim, gloomy movie overall. If I were a theater major in college, I would compare and contrast Tracy Letts’ bitter matriarch Violet Weston with Tennessee Williams’ overly entangled, bitter matriarch Violet Venable in Suddenly Last Summer.

I don't know if I liked August: Osage County, but it was certainly interesting.