#Stream Barry on HBO

[chompachompa]

I'm back, and I hate Bill Hader (I do not hate him). I despise him (I love him). He will pay for his crimes (I watch Barry (on HBO) and it has made a great impact on my mental health (made me more depressed) but I refuse to stop watching it).

[beemovieerotica]

I'm begging everyone to watch this beautiful piece of satire in the face of the SAG-AFTRA strike---it is so on the nose, it's so much of what's going wrong with hollywood and streaming services and throwing away creators' blood sweat and tears because of "the algorithms"

[housefreak]

everyone regardless of if theyve seen barry hbo (2018-2023) or not should be streaming the player (1992)

[thelightwillbreakthrough]

no but like. there’s no tv everything they watch is on barry or sally’s laptops so that way they can control everything BUT the irony is that doing everything online only leaves a greater digital trail that makes them easier to find…the obsessive need to frame everything his way is what will bring him down…

[ijustwantaplacetorantinpeace]

Bill Hader took the understood idea of a comedy and buried it in a sand silo.

And I say this as someone who watches predominantly dramedies and dark comedies

[estethuet]

In what world a west media hetero pair i've been shipping for several years got nothing and fucking russian musicians rpf series had it all - love confessions, drag dance, fucking kiss..... I am lost for words

[haute-lifestyle-com]

True Detective: Night Country, from HBO, presents a compelling and unusual crime drama, that begins at a remote research science facility in Alaska's furthest regions, where night lasts three months, and slowly unearths the deep-frozen secrets

[bonobochick]

Reblogging just because and adding a few more ships... 😊 🫶🏼

Some ships to celebrate Valentine’s Day.  🎉 💗

urls:  Post 1 / Post 2 / Post 3

[sopranoentravesti]

Not directly inspired by anything except for *gestures vaguely at the surrounding shitshow* but I do think more people could stand to read this article by Dara Horn about Roald Dahl from 2021.

I’ve included text of the article as well, under the cut. And to head off the whining of those who will perceive this as an attack on their favorite children’s book writer or whatever: read the damn article. This isn’t about “cancelling,” someone for being bigoted (hell, if I boycotted books or plays because the author was virulently antisemitic, there would be precious little to read). It is about understanding a really dark part of human psychology that is at play in conspiratorial thinking— which of course is at the heart of antisemitism— that Roald Dahl capitalized on. Developing a more mature sense of morality, rather than indulging in the bloody politics of blame and vengeance is crucial.

There’s nothing quite like the realization that what you thought was an empowering work of art is actually a 200-page exercise in trolling. It took me more than 30 years to figure out that I’d been trolled by Roald Dahl.

Dahl, who dominated juvenile publishing when I was growing up, revealed himself late in his career to be a vicious antisemite, who thought “powerful American Jewish bankers” ran the US government. He told the New Statesman that “there is a trait in the Jewish character that does provoke animosity, maybe it’s a kind of lack of generosity towards non-Jews. I mean, there is always a reason why anti-anything crops up anywhere; even a stinker like Hitler didn’t just pick on them for no reason.” This was in 1983, the year in which Dahl published The Witches, his 13th novel for children.

Apparently, Dahl had been an antisemite his entire life, but it didn’t prevent him from being essentially canonized after his death in 1990, and it didn’t much affect my thoughts about him either. I had adored his books as a child, and I’ve never taken much interest in the now-obligatory grunt work of connecting artists’ personalities (often horrible) with their works (sometimes great). And although Dahl was not only an antisemite but also (and even more damningly these days) a misogynist and a racist, he hasn’t been canceled yet. Who doesn’t love Roald Dahl, or at least his stories?

Hollywood certainly does. The most recent Dahl adaptation, which began streaming on HBO Max this Halloween season, is called Roald Dahl’s The Witches (note the value of the authorial brand), directed and written by Robert Zemeckis, with the help of two younger Hollywood powerhouses, Kenya Barris and Guillermo del Toro. It stars the high wattage Octavia Spencer, perhaps best known for her Oscar-winning role in The Help, and A-lister Anne Hathaway, not to mention the voice of the comedian Chris Rock. In fact, this is the second big-budget version of The Witches, the first having been a 1990 film starring Anjelica Huston.

But The Witches was on my mind long before I’d heard about the new movie. It was one of my favorite books when I was a child, one I read repeatedly and pressed into the hands of friends. I was eager to share it with my own children and hesitated only because, as a child, I’d also found it somewhat terrifying. But when I read it aloud to my eight-year-old son last month, I discovered that it was far more terrifying than I remembered, and for entirely different reasons.

The key to Dahl’s success as a children’s author lay in how he pitted children against adults, making children into a beloved underdog class whose moral victory lay in vanquishing their powerful exploiters. His heroes are blameless boys and girls tortured by diabolically abusive adults, whom they destroy in outrageous revenge sequences of the sort even the most fortunate child occasionally fantasizes about. In James and the Giant Peach, for instance, the orphaned James, enslaved by his villainous aunts, squashes them to death with the titular fruit. In Matilda, a kindergartener uses magic powers to terrorize a school principal who routinely locks children in a nail-studded closet. In Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, the starving Charlie, living in the sort of poverty that would make Oliver Twist qualify as a one-percenter, inherits a fantastical candy factory—but only after a book-length morality play in which wealthy children and their entitled parents are absurdly tortured and maimed. In George’s Marvelous Medicine, a boy forced to care for his heartless grandmother concocts a potion that makes her shrink and disappear.

In short, Dahl is like a modern Charles Dickens, except instead of social justice and spiritual redemption, Dahl’s books offer only revenge. Kids, like all emotionally and morally stunted people, eat this stuff up. Dahl tapped into something primal and hideous in the human psyche: the desire of disenfranchised people to feel righteous precisely by demonizing others. As a kid, I bought this too. The sheer sadism of it went right over my head until I shared these books with my children and saw how I’d been punked. And The Witches was the worst.

The Witches is about a boy who is orphaned in the opening chapter—pity points are always crucial for Dahl—and then adopted by his loving Grandmamma, a kindly old lady who fills him in on a little-known scourge. Witches, she explains, are real. They are demons disguised as women, and their sole purpose is to entrap and destroy innocent children through their diabolical magic. One unfortunate boy, for example, went off with a witch and returned unharmed—but later hardened into a stone statue. After vanishing with a witch, a girl reappeared only in a landscape painting in her family’s home, changing positions whenever the family wasn’t watching and even aging as years passed. (That one haunted me for decades.) Other children are “disappeared” in ways worthy of an Argentine junta. Kids better watch out.

One summer on a beach vacation with Grandmamma, our hero wanders into a hotel conference room occupied by a group calling itself the “Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children.” In fact, it is a coven of witches discussing their latest plan, a potion designed to turn children into mice. They discover the boy and immediately mouse-ify him, but now that our talking mouse hero knows where they keep their potions, he and Grandmamma hatch a clever plot to administer them to the witches themselves. Hijinks ensue, evil is vanquished, and although the narrator remains a mouse, he doesn’t mind. He and Grandmamma embark on a crusade to take out the witches of the world, and he never has to go to school again.

The book chimed perfectly with the stories of “stranger danger” that other 1980s children and I were constantly fed in state-mandated school curricula, but it made that threat delightfully preposterous—and manageable since all one had to do was believe that certain adults were actually demons with recognizable tells. It was a highly rewarding fantasy. After all, it was clear to me, as it was to every young reader, that even adults who didn’t molest children in shopping malls were nonetheless conspiring against us, making us do dehumanizing tasks like making beds and taking tests. The book was empowering. With its frisson of secret knowledge, it made us feel righteous and invincible. Unfortunately, revisiting it as an adult revealed that the book was cribbed from the Protocols of the Elders of Zion—and helped me understand, for perhaps the first time, antisemitism’s seductive appeal.

“Witches,” Grandmamma explains, “are not actually women at all . . . They are demons in human shape.” How do you spot one? Well, since they’re demons, they have toeless hooves instead of feet and claws instead of fingers, disguised by fashionable shoes and gloves. You can’t spot those, but you can spot their “larger nose-holes than ordinary people” (the better to smell you with, my dear). But the real tell, of course, is that witches are bald—which is why a witch always wears “a first-class wig,” which she puts “straight on her naked scalp.”

As I read this aloud to my enthralled son, it was hard to miss how much these witches resembled women in, say, Stamford Hill (the London version of Borough Park). It was also hard to miss how much they resembled caricatures from Der Stürmer or a medieval blood libel. Was I overinterpreting?

You be the judge: “Wherever you find people, you find witches,” Grandmamma tells her innocent grandchild. “There is a Secret Society of Witches in every country. . . . An English witch, for example, will know all the other witches in England.” If this was too subtle, Grandmamma clarifies: “Once a year, the witches of each separate country hold their own secret meeting. They all get together in one place to receive a lecture from The Grand High Witch of All the World.” The boy’s question about this fun fact is, at this point, predictable: “Is she rich?”

Grandmamma replies, “She’s rolling. Simply rolling in money. Rumour has it that there is a machine in her headquarters which is exactly like the machine the government uses to print the bank-notes you and I use.” The boy then asks, as any normal child would, “What about foreign money?” You already know the answer: “Those machines can make Chinese money if you want them to.” Here, the boy turns skeptical: “If nobody has ever seen the Grand High Witch, how can you be so sure she exists?” Grandmamma counters, “Nobody has seen the Devil, but we know he exists.” All of this isn’t merely true, we are told, but “the gospel truth” (the italics are Dahl’s). After all, Grandmamma “went to church every morning of the week and she said grace before every meal, and somebody who did that would never tell lies.” As Grandmamma warns her dear boy, “All you can do is cross your heart and pray to heaven.”

Alas, crossing his heart and praying to heaven doesn’t protect our hero from his encounter with the Elders of Witchdom, at which point Dahl drops all pretense. The Grand High Witch, we learn, “had a peculiar way of speaking. There was some sort of a foreign accent there, something harsh and guttural, and she seemed to have trouble pronouncing the letter w. As well as that, she did something funny with the letter r. She would roll it round and round her mouth.” The Grand High Witch, in her Yiddish accent, explains to her secret society how they will lure England’s children by buying high-end sweet shops and poisoning the candy, since “Money is not a prrroblem to us vitches as you know very well. I have brrrought with me six trrrunks stuffed full of Inklish bank-notes, all new and crrrisp” (italics mine).

Few children can resist the lure of witches. My son loved the book so much that he wanted to see the movie. Perhaps you are wondering: is the 2020 Hollywood version, whose creators unsurprisingly included plenty of Jews, antisemitic? The short answer is no, or not exactly, but that’s also the wrong question.

Adapting from a source this hideous was never going to be easy or entirely uncontroversial, and the new film has already been slammed for portraying limb differences as evil (instead of the claws mentioned in the book, the film’s witches are depicted with missing fingers). Despite that tone-deaf choice, it’s clear that the filmmakers were aware of the book’s larger problems. To their credit, they knew they had to fix something, and they went big: instead of contemporary England, Roald Dahl’s The Witches takes place in 1968 Alabama, and the protagonist and his grandmother are Black (Octavia Spencer’s Grandmamma is even a voodoo healer). Unlike the 1990 movie, the witches no longer have big noses and are, in fact, racially diverse. At first, this does seem poised to dilute some of the book’s inherent awfulness: when a Black witch attacked the protagonist in an early scene, I had high hopes for a story where “evil” was depicted solely through Marvel Universe methods of pancake makeup and special effects. But that scene proved to be half-hearted tokenism, since the rest of the film focuses almost entirely on, to use the current term, white-presenting witches—and most tellingly, what really distinguishes witches in this film is that they are rich. As we watch a flashback of the lily-white and fabulously dressed Anne Hathaway as the Grand High Witch attacking an impoverished Black child in a 1920s Alabama shantytown, Grandmamma tells us that “witches always prey on the poor.”

This class warfare idea is utterly absent from Dahl’s book, but it perhaps unintentionally provides a trendy update to his rather old-school racial antisemitism: the idea that a secret society of fantastically wealthy “global elites”—often, but not inevitably, Jews—prey on the poor. This means that bigotry against them, rather than being retrograde, is, in fact, a fresh and righteous way of “punching up.” Instead of just protecting innocent children, this new Grandmamma now also shares her truth to defend the downtrodden, like every righteous nutjob tweeting about the Rothschilds or George Soros. In the book, nothing much happens with the Grand High Witch’s counterfeit cash. But here Grandmamma commandeers it at the film’s triumphant end and hands out hundred-dollar bills to the hotel’s exploited Black employees.

If this sounds tedious, it is. Roald Dahl’s The Witches is wretched less because of the book’s wretched premise than because it is a conventionally lousy children’s movie, full of Hollywood pieties (in the climactic scene, Grandmamma actually lectures the Grand High Witch about the Power of Love), canned stereotypes and recycled animation. That doesn’t mean kids won’t love it, of course. As Hollywood knows well, everyone loves a good conspiracy theory—and that’s the problem.

My kids laughed their way through the movie’s animated mice and cookie-cutter triumphs, enjoying everything that conventional children’s stories do best—reinforce their audience’s expectations, vanquish villains, and make powerless people feel superior. Conspiracy theories make for great stories, but in an era when a nontrivial proportion of the American electorate apparently believes in the QAnon conspiracy theory that a secret cabal of satanic pedophiles preys on American children and the country, I couldn’t help feeling that this film was, at the very least, ill-timed.

It is so easy, after all, to believe in a conspiracy, so self-indulgent, so appealing—and, as I now finally understood, so much fun. Watching this mediocre and unremarkable movie left me shockingly ill at ease, precisely because it was so mediocre and unremarkable. My discomfort was compounded by the knowledge that the eight-year-old me would have loved it too, not knowing any better. Few children do. In the elaborate, magical long game of luring innocents into handing over their hearts, it turns out that the Grand High Witch was actually Roald Dahl.

[ericdeggans]

My Best TV of 2022: A (Unexpectedly) Long List

This is not a problem I expected to have, early in 2022.

Back then, the quality of TV shows was so disappointing, I considered writing one of those cranky, old-school critic’s columns complaining about how the glut of shows in our modern, streaming-fueled media environment was ruining everything.

I should have just waited around a bit. Because, even though I was mightily disappointed by some of the biggest TV projects on the docket – everything from CNN+ to Lords of the Rings: Rings of Power (the repetition in the title should have been warning enough) – lots more TV shows surprised and delighted me this year. Too many to fit on a top ten or top 12 list.

In fact, there were too many to fit on this excellent roundup prepared by me and five other critics at NPR.org (we each got about eight choices). And I will fess up now – I didn’t vibe with FX’s Reservations Dogs in its first season, so I didn’t keep up with the second and it’s not on my list. Many apologies to devoted fans of a show I’m very glad exists and so many love. But I’m not among you devotees (at least not yet).

Here's my list of fave shows from 2022, in no particular order. It’s by design very subjective, so I welcome debate, but it’s about what touched ME on TV this year:

Andor (Disney+) – Started slow, but turned into a masterful reinvention of the Star Wars universe, focused on the gritty, merciless beginnings of the Rebel Alliance. Who knew a Star Wars show with no lightsabers, no Jedi Knights and no Force could be just what the franchise needed? REVIEW

Atlanta (FX/Hulu) – The last two seasons, both released this year, weren’t nearly as impactful as its first two. But this show remains an excellent showcase for creativity and ambitious storytelling in portraying the lives of a quartet of Black millennials.

Here’s a Q&A I moderated w/Atlanta cast and producers at SXSW

Better Call Saul (AMC) – This Breaking Bad spinoff stuck the landing in series finale that capped both the origin AND ending stories of criminal lawyer Saul Goodman. REVIEW

Abbott Elementary (ABC) – Sidesplitting mockumentary-style comedy about teaching in a Philadelphia school that is so good, because it’s absurd humor is so close to the actual truth. PROFILE of star Quinta Brunson.

The Patient (Hulu) – Steve Carrell delivers his most impressive dramatic role as a therapist interrogating his own messy personal history while kidnapped and forced to help a serial killer. REVIEW.

The U.S. and the Holocaust (PBS) -- Star documentarian Ken Burns reveals how antisemitism in America busted the myth that the U.S. was always on the side of the angels as Adolf Hitler took power in Germany and began implementing his Final Solution.

Star Trek: Strange New Worlds (Paramount+) – Focused on the Starship Enterprise 10 years before James T. Kirk would take command, it’s a welcome return to a rollicking, adventure-a-week series that recalls the spirit of the original Trek series better than any other modern reboot/revival. REVIEW

Severance (Apple TV+) - for review, click here

Only Murders in the Building (Hulu) - REVIEW

Euphoria (HBO) - for review, click here 

A League of Their Own (Prime Video) -REVIEW

This is Us (NBC) - interview w/creator Dan Fogelman here

Sidney (Apple TV +) - REVIEW here

Under the Banner of Heaven (FX/Hulu) - for review, click here

We Own This City (HBO) - for interview w/EP David Simon, click here

Barry, season three (HBO) - for review, click here

Stranger Things (Netflix) - REVIEW

We Need to Talk About Cosby (Showtime) - PCHH discussion here

Harley Quinn (HBO Max) - 

The Sandman (Netflix)

As We See It (Prime Video) - REVIEW

The Good Fight (Paramount+)

The Dropout (Hulu) - 

The Crown (Netflix) - DISCUSSION here

The Handmaid’s Tale, season 5 (Hulu)

Ozark, season 4 (Netflix) - REVIEW here

Ms. Marvel (Disney+)

[nicastamatis]

@ mouthwashing fans you guys should check out hbo barry starring and co-created by bill hader available to stream on hbo max and now tv and the piracy site of your choice. sound of the summer.

[misterjt]

Did anybody else struggle to decipher what was real and what was Barry's hallucination in the premiere episodes? I need to re-watch it.

Barry (2018-2023) bestest place on the earth (S04E02)

[nezoid]

HCA Nominations for:

• Tatiana Maslany (She-Hulk: Attorney at Law - Disney+) - Best Actress in a Streaming Comedy Series

• Aubrey Plaza (The White Lotus - HBO) - Best Supporting Actress in a Broadcast Network or Cable Drama Series

• Aubrey Plaza (Saturday Night Live - NBC) - Best Guest Actress in a Comedy Series

• Jenna Ortega (Wednesday - Netflix) - Best Actress in a Streaming Comedy Series

• Jenna Ortega (Saturday Night Live - NBC) - Best Guest Actress in a Comedy Series

• D'Arcy Carden (Barry - HBO) - Best Guest Actress in a Comedy Series

• Catherine Zeta-Jones (Wednesday - Netflix) - Best Guest Actress in a Comedy Series

• Christina Ricci (Wednesday - Netflix) - Best Supporting Actress in a Streaming Comedy Series

• Wednesday (Netflix) - Best Streaming Comedy Series

• Wednesday (Alfred Gough & Miles Millar, Wednesday's Child is Full of Woe - Netflix) - Best Writing in a Streaming Comedy Series

• Wednesday (Tim Burton, Wednesday's Child is Full of Woe - Netflix) - Best Directing in a Streaming Comedy Series

• Wednesday (Netflix) - Best Main Title Design

• Wednesday (Netflix) - Best Fantasy or Science Fiction Costumes

• She-Hulk: Attorney at Law (Disney+) - Best Stunts

• A League of Their Own (Prime Video) - Best Period Costumes

• The White Lotus - Mike White, Arrivederci (HBO) - The Best Writing in a Broadcast Network or Cable Drama Series

• The White Lotus (HBO) - Best Casting in a Drama Series

• The White Lotus: Unpacking The Episode (HBO) - Best Short Form Series

• The White Lotus (HBO) - Best Contemporary Costumes

[missanthropicprinciple]

It's time to tank most of my streaming subscriptions because as much as I love the 90s I don't want to pay for what is now basically cable tv. My plan is to go through each site and watch what I've been meaning to and then cancel, and just keep doing that one site at a time until I'm only paying for like 2. Plus I have free stuff like Tubi, Pluto, and PBS (because we donate).

N3tflix I'm gonna keep because that's how one of my oldest friends and I keep in touch on a weekly/bi-weekly basis.

I'll keep Britbox for now too because I like to have some comfort tv at my fingertips.

Dïsn3y+ is going because it's not worth it to me anymore. I have season 1 and 2 of Mandalorian on bluray and season 3 kinda sucked. I still love Moon Knight. They took down the Willow series after six months (still super pissed about that!!!). Other than that I'm going to see what's available on DVD/bluray and see if there's anything I'm into.

Apple TV+ only has Ted Lasso and Severance on there, plus the Tetris movie I might buy anyway. Once I re-watch some stuff I'll tank my subscription.

I just got Amazon prime so I could watch Good Omens and then I'll tank that too.

HBO MAX as Succession (now available on DVD) and Our Flag Means Death, plus I have to catch up on Barry.

Time to get cracking!

[nigesakis]

[bartmobile]

i know people my age obviously have nostalgia goggles on when it comes to disney channel shows from when we were kids but like really actually those shows were making much more of a cultural impact then than the current ones are. there’s an episode of community where they reference hannah montana, mainstream tabloids and stuff would talk about the jonas brothers, john mulaney and nick kroll’s broadway show references that’s so raven. and like i worked with kids for a period of several months last year and i don’t think i could name a single disney channel show on right now. the most recent disney channel show i can think of being even a little in the zeitgeist is when there was a joke on hbo’s barry that involved some kids watching jesse, but even that show premiered in like 2011. i think it’s likely due to the rise in streaming and stuff but yeah i don’t think that this kind of line of thinking is totally unfounded