American Vandal

If any of you read my post about The Keepers you will know that I am a fan of the true crime series. I was all in for the podcast Serial (first season only - couldn't get into Season 2) as well as The Jinx and Making of a Murderer. My friend Jen suggested I listen to a podcast called My Favorite Murder, which I'm enjoying (although I have to take breaks or I get too freaked out). So it should come as no surprise that when I heard about American Vandal, I was intrigued. A satirical take on a true crime series? Sign me up. With high school students? Okay...maybe?

I enjoyed my high school years. But don't get me wrong - there is NO WAY I'd want to go back to that time. I'm not waxing nostalgic about my braces, headgear, silver wireframe glasses, down jacket or Birkenstocks. But I had a great group of friends (many of whom I'm lucky enough to still be in contact with) and a generally good experience. There is one thing I have maintained, though, since I left the hallowed halls of Lynbrook High - the social dynamics you encounter in high school don't change a whole lot when you are out in the real world. Sure, the "popular" crowd might look different (not jocks and cheerleaders necessarily) but a form of the social hierarchy remains. Even now, at my current job and at my current age, that dynamic exists with some of the producers.  Sometimes there is so much back slapping and guffawing between a chosen few that I'm worried someone might accidentally pop a rib. 

The thing is, my high school crowd - the drama, band and AV geeks, were and remain fucking awesome! Each and every person I hung out with in high school taught me something cool (from introducing me to "alternative" bands to creating goofy and amazing costumes and so much in between). We were all loyal to each other and we didn't care where we fell in the social rankings; they are the reason I enjoyed my high school years.

We hung out on the corner of a wall (not all of us shown).

But high schoolers in my true crime series? Satire or not, my jury was out.

American Vandal - 8-part series on Netflix, 2017

Well, my jury is in and it's absolutely favorable!

This series is funny, intelligent and far deeper than one would expect.

It's basically the story of a sophomore, Peter, who is a reporter on his school's morning TV show. Another kid, senior Dylan Maxwell, has been accused of spray painting graffiti on all the teacher's cars. Dylan has a history of being a "bad kid" - his YouTube channel proves it. He and his group of friends "the Wayback Boys" (which includes a girl), do ridiculous pranks and film them as running "shows" including "Baby Farting" and "Nuns Humping Trees". The Wayback Boys aren't subtle in their series naming so you can guess what each one is about. Dylan has been expelled from school and is facing a felony hearing.

Peter hears about this and immediately pokes some holes in the case so he decides to investigate. He is that wonderful kid everyone knew in high school. He's not "popular" but everyone seems to know him. He's an excellent student and ridiculously earnest. He knows who his friends are and he feels strongly in justice being served.

The crime in question:  someone drew dicks on all the teacher's cars during an "admin" day. 27 dicks on 27 cars. I can't tell you how much this appeals to my 13-year-old boy aesthetic. The idea that this is what is being investigated, and with such solemnity, is hilarious to me. 

Peter (and let's not think this name is an accident - every episode has a penis joke name ("The Limp Alibi" "Climax" "Clean Up")) and his fellow reporters leave no stone unturned. They dig in and put together a startlingly good case for Dylan's innocence. One of my favorite arguments in Dylan's defense is that, while Dylan is a notorious Dick Drawer (he draws them everywhere and frequently documents them), his are drawn differently than the dicks on the cars. They discuss the fact that he always includes ball hairs (which are absent on the cars) as if he's Picasso and the painting in question is a Monet.

27 dicks on 27 cars (not all shown).

The thing that makes this series stand out is the character development. The filmmakers clearly love these kids. They fit into the cookie cutter stereotypes you expect - jocks, student body president overachiever, AV geek, yet they are all so much more. Both Dylan and Peter have important revelations about their lives. Their friends disappoint, surprise, atone. They grow. Do they come out better on the other side? Do we know who drew the dicks?  You have to watch to find out. 

As an oldster (please read this in a creaky, cranky old lady voice) I realize that everything in this day and age is recorded SOMEwhere. Whether it's official (CCTV) or unofficial (cell phone pictures/footage from a party), it's the perfect way to lend credibility to a bunch of high school students being able to launch a proper investigation. While this is really cool, I'm also incredibly happy I grew up in the stone age where none of my shenanigans are documented.

I give this one an A.

(My drink pairing for this is absolutely, 100%, a beer bong.)

My takeaways:

#1 - I have too much fun in my present to miss my past, but I'm glad to say that at least I have a shit ton of good memories (that aren't documented on cell phone footage).

#2 - My coworker Shannon suggested this show to me. We are just getting to know each other and apparently I'm a bit more of an open book than I think I am.

#3 - Even though I thoroughly enjoyed American Vandal, the best "mockumentary" ever: This Is Spinal Tap.

xoxo...hashtagSueslife

The Sinner

Hi gang! I've missed you!

I've had kind of a hell of a summer. First I was super sick (I spent a month with Umbridge the Cough), then work exploded. I literally wasn't home enough to even watch anything so I had nothing to revue. I'll be honest, my crazy work schedule was exhausting; I started having Dreamworks PTSD. I also questioned if I'm just too old for this shit. But that's a topic for another day.

Now I'm back with a vengeance! After months of barely seeing anyone or leaving my house for the reasons above, I'm trying to be more social and active. In an effort to kill two birds with one stone (what a terrible saying...no birds were harmed!), this weekend Beth and I attended a Fitness Marshall event in Roseville. Yup, Roseville. We drove two hours to dance around for one hour. But it was completely worth it, his classes are so much fun. The gym that was hosting him was really more like a country club. I imagine, probably unfairly, that most members would qualify for a Real Housewives of Roseville reality show. The gym is enormous with two levels of classes and workout equipment. Apparently, they also have a cafe where you can be lounging by one of the 4 pools (2 indoor, 2 outdoor), order what you want from an app on your phone, and have it brought to you. Luxurious.

The event was called Esprit de She. There were a TON of overly excited women in all manner of workout ensembles (plus one dude who was clearly there with his girlfriend) RARING to go. Oddly, I was the only one in the 300-person crowd who had taken a class with Fitness Marshall before. So when he asked the question I did a really loud "Woooooo!" expecting to be part of a group of folks whooping. Imagine how uncomfortable I was when everyone around me turned to look, my lone cry ringing off the walls. Awkward.

It was a "Cardio Concert"!

Despite the beautiful venue, the overall communication for the event was frustrating (Beth called it subpar which, upon reflection, was too kind).  It started with the statement, buried deep in one of the many confusing promotional emails they sent, that they wouldn't allow bags in the gym for security reasons (presumably so your stuff wouldn't get stolen). This flummoxed us. How is a girl supposed to drive two hours to a workout class and not bring a bag? I will admit that I was extremely bitter about leaving my Chapstick and gum at home. I had to MacGyver my keys onto my water bottle so I wouldn't lose them. Let's not even discuss the state of my Proof of Insurance card and car registration after having them shoved in the tiny pocket of my Athleta capris. And most women DID bring bags. Rule breakers.

The most disappointing part of the whole experience was the post-class event. There was an Esprit de She Fair of sorts, with food, "bubbly" and a chance to win a raffle to meet the Fitness Marshall. They corralled all of us to the outside pool area (and by "corralled" I mean a bunch of sweaty people left a darkened-to-look-like-a-dance-club indoor basketball court to wander aimlessly outside, blinking in the sunlight, until someone who knew where the pool was finally led us). Disappointment #1: The "bubbly" was a type of canned carbonated sake. Disappointment #2:  The woman handing them out kept touting the Coconut flavor as her favorite so Beth and I both took one. Everyone we encountered were actively enjoying their Grapefruit flavored one ("this is so tasty!")  while we were decidedly "meh" about ours. Disappointment #3:  The raffle to meet the Fitness Marshall was poorly executed. The announcer didn't know how to hold his mic so everything he said sounded like the teacher from the Peanuts. Plus our numbers never got called.

I'd like to say that Beth and I were gracious about sitting in the hot sun waiting for our number to be called, but that was not the case. We sighed and groaned as each winning number was called. We ended up sharing our table with a woman who won a spot and in a lovely "pay it forward" moment she offered to let one of us come with her as her "friend". I was happy to give this to Beth as I've met them before but Sharika (our benevolent table-mate) said "you should get in too; you are the Mexico woman!" referring to me meeting them in May in Cancun. The event organizers didn't seem too hip about that but I was able to take advantage of a confusing moment and got a wrist band. Beth likens it to a Jedi mind trick (or what she calls "pulling an Erokan") because as we started to move away the harried woman who was giving out the wrist bands looked around and said "Who's the friend?" and I just stuck my arm out and stared at her. 

Voila. Wrist band procured. I'm the friend.

Now for a revue.

The Sinner - 8-part series on USA Network, 2017

I'm always up for a series that is contained. I like going into something knowing my commitment level. So when I saw ads for The Sinner I was all in. I think in my heart of hearts I was hoping for something of a religious mess.

I really wanted this to be good. All the ads gave it a "there is a fucked up backstory to this that you are not going to want to miss" vibe which intrigued me. Essentially, in the first 15 minutes or so, we see a woman apparently randomly going berserk and killing a guy on a perfectly lovely afternoon at a lake. Then the rest of the show was supposed to be devoted to the "why she did it" and the "how it fucked up her family".

Well. Let me tell you. There is a microsecond about how this affected her husband and toddler son. There is also a bit devoted to her weird family life growing up - her sister was born sickly and her mother was a devout Christian or something, positive that if anyone in the family wasn't completely pious it could affect the sick kid spiritually (for instance, don't eat chocolate because it's indulgent and that sin will make your sister sicker. What??). But the long and the short of it is:  the woman randomly gets caught up with some very bad people and they fuck up her life. She gets a bit brainwashed and it manifests itself in an extremely ugly way.

Yes, I found the story that simple. And it wasn't even like I figured out what the deal was early on. It was just crawling along at a snail's pace and I started to not give a shit. But I had invested time within my extremely busy schedule so I was feeling obligated to see it through to the end. And that pissed me off. I HATE feeling obligated to a TV show.

I kept thinking "you guys could have cut out a BUNCH of inconsequential shit and made it 5 episodes."   There were whole subplots that were useless and went nowhere.  By episode 6, I said to my cats "JEEEZ-us this is moving slow".  Cosmo blinked at me and Finn ran off to pounce his rattle mouse. We were in total agreement.

The two stars of this series were Jessica Beil and Bill Pullman. Neither of them, in my opinion, should carry a series.

Jessica Beil is SUPER VANILLA. Justin Timberlake, what the heck? Was Cameron Diaz such a nut job that you had to go the complete opposite? Half the time I actually can't remember which Jessica she is - Alba, Beil, I can barely tell them apart. I mean, she's beautiful and all but she's SO one note it's hard to remember which note she is. In fact, I felt the best part of her acting was that she didn't wear any makeup throughout the whole series. Brava!

And Bill Pullman. His character in this is a troubled police detective who can't hold on to his marriage and vents his frustration by having kinky sex with a dominatrix. While this should be enough to create a nuanced performance, Bill Pullman looks like he does in everything he's in - slightly squinty and pushing back his hair. I imagine he's thinking "Wow, I can't believe these people keep hiring me! This is awesome. Now if I can only wrap my head around what this plot means I'll be golden."  The dude just strikes me as a little dim. He does have really good hair, though.

(My drink pairing with this is a can or two of the Grapefruit flavored carbonated sake. I hear it's really tasty.)

Presenting your lead actors - No Makeup Jessica and Squinty Bill

My takeaways:

#1 - I need to get over feeling obligated to finish a series I don't like. Even if it's short.

#2 - I actually don't object to Bill Pullman...he was great in Spaceballs.

#3 - A year ago I suggested you all watch a new NBC series called The Good Place. Now I'm suggesting you watch Season 2. It's really great!!  (and no, I'm not biased at all :)

xoxo...hashtagSueslife