Season 1 left the idealistic Ambassador to the Court of St. James’s Kate Wyler (Keri Russell) hanging by a thread or, actually, a lit fuse. Her rickety marriage to master gamesman and former Ambassador Hal Wyler (Rufus Sewell) was unraveling. Then, a London car bomb sent Hal to hospital in critical condition in a stunning series cliffhanger. Does her husband survive?

That final shocker raised the interpersonal stakes and exploded diplomatic relations between the US, Britain and Russia, the alleged dark force believed to be responsible for the explosion on land, while compounding the deadly torpedoing of a British warship.

Hal’s near-death experience (no spoiler here as Netflix has already blabbed) ratchets up the dynamics of the Wylers’ power couple marriage. There has always been an “A Star is Born” dynamic to the pair. He’s older, wiser and wilier. And out of power, which suits him not at all. She’s a rising diplomat driven to practice her skills on war-torn soil, not the posh wool carpeting cushioning the British government. In her mind, she’s a war photographer suddenly snapping celebrity covers.

One of the show’s strengths is the dissection of power dynamics in a modern marriage. The Wylers’ partnership functions very well on some levels, disastrously on others. Trust is a big issue both for the pair and the diplomatic circles in which they run. Their needs and wants from each other – whether emotional, sexual or strategic – are in constant flux. It’s fascinating to watch and game out, particularly because Russell and Sewell have such profound chemistry and connection.

Since it’s her story, the less-experienced Ambassador Wyler must learn to navigate behind bedroom doors and in the corridors of power. How does she exploit her individual strengths (charm, intelligence, directness), and how do expectations differ for a woman in the vortex of power? In short, what can she get away with both personally and professionally? And, if her husband truly has her back, does she need him to protect her in the international snake pit? Or is he expendable — especially once her relationship with British Foreign Secretary Austin Dennison (David Gyasi) starts to sizzle.

An element introduced from the beginning is that a vacuum exists back in the White House. President William Rayburn (Michael McKean) seeks to oust Vice President Grace Penn (Allison Janney), apparently for the sins of her husband. And part of this bigger game is testing Kate out in England to see if she’s VP material, and if she’s open to a vice-presidential makeover. Her husband is all for it, which makes her even more suspicious of the opportunity.

The second season gets a big jolt when the Vice President’s chopper arrives at an English country manor amidst an international crisis implicating impulsive Prime Minister Nicol Trowbridge (Rory Kinnear). It’s immediately clear that Penn is a self-possessed political animal. Hal takes one look at her and, to paraphrase, tells Kate: ‘She knows.’ His intuition, if he can be trusted, is an asset. But, again, can he be trusted? What are his ulterior motives?

With a big personality and a presidential polish, Penn arrives to bigfoot the diplomatic crisis while checking out her competition. In a notable private exchange, the VP calls out Kate on her ambitions and literally dresses her down. She schools Kate that if she wants to ascend to the White House, she has to dress the part. Wear unsensible shoes, she advises, ditch the dreary no-name black suits, and jettison the “bedhead” that is the younger woman’s signature don’t-give-a-fuck, take-me-seriously-for-who-I-am-not-my-hair look.

In its second season, “The Diplomat” weaves workplace drama with international thriller relying on complex characters dynamically portrayed by a terrific ensemble. Ultimately, the series upholds Sir Winston Churchill’s maxim: “Diplomacy is the ability to tell someone to go to hell in such a way that they look forward to the trip,” which is also a wonderful formula for a divinely bingeable show.

“The Diplomat” Season 2 premieres Thursday, Oct. 31, on Netflix.

The post ‘The Diplomat’ Season 2 Review: Keri Russell Battles Shifting Power Dynamics in Netflix Drama’s Excellent Return appeared first on TheWrap.

A decade later, though, we’re at the sixth and final season of FX’s series adaptation. If the five previous runs are any indication, this kind of comedy can never die.

Things may be getting a bit anemic, though. The network only provided critics with the first three of Season 6’s 10 episodes, and while they scare up gasps and absurdity with rewarding regularity, nothing yet reaches the brilliant heights of Season 4’s meta reality TV satire “Go Flip Yourself” or the horny hilarity of the “Pride Parade” episode from last year.

But the centuries-old vampires have earned our patience, and these last outings require some time for resetting and (hopefully) thematic scene-setting. With luck, that’s what the early chapters are prioritizing as they build to a climactic comic bloodbath.

As has so often been the case, Harvey Guillén’s Guillermo becomes a main focus of concern. Not only has this mortal been the primary audience identification figure in the Staten Island nest of ancient undeads; Guillermo has also gone through the most interesting — and sometimes harrowing –— transitions of any of the show’s core characters. From submissive familiar to congenital vampire slayer to, finally, the bloodsucker he’s always aspired to be, Guillermo has been the beating heart of “Shadows,” and Guillén has made him its wryest commentator along the way.

But after discovering he just wasn’t cut out for his neck-biting dream job, Guillermo returned to human form at the end of last season and is absent for most of S6’s opening episode. It turns out he hasn’t gone very far away, but his self-absorbed bosses — Vlad the Impaler-inspired Nandor (Kayvan Novak), sybaritic pseudo-scientist Laszlo (Matt Berry, who this year became the cast’s sole Emmy nominee), Laszlo’s loud and sometimes equally libidinous lady wife Nadja (Natasia Demetriou) and boredom-emitting energy vampire Colin Robinson (Mark Proksch) — couldn’t check at his day job. Or be bothered to, if you want the truth.

Once circumstances force the vampires to seek Guillermo, however, his career prospects become of major interest. He’s made a lateral move from Panera Bread to a menial position at a financial firm, where the vampires believe his contentment is crucial to their safety. So Nandor and Nadja get jobs there too, and take steps to eliminate anyone who could stand in the way of Guillermo’s rapid rise up the corporate ladder.

Characterizing Wall Street types as both monsters and deserving victims thereof is not a new black comedy gambit — key portions of Christian Bale, Nicolas Cage and others’ careers were built on it — but the “Shadows” writers still manage to squeeze the cliches for grue and giggles.

Back at the haunted house, Laszlo’s fascination with reviving dead things has gone full Dr. Frank-N-Furter. Corpses and bags of body parts strewn everywhere show how much the daysleepers needed a Guillermo to clean up their messes. But Colin Robinson, more acutely aware of his friendless state than ever, feels his best strategy is to play Igor in Laszlo’s lab; hunting for unsuspecting organ donors beats trying to find a new place in overpriced New York.

Most of this season’s atypically unselfish behavior is triggered by the return of a former roommate, Jerry (“SNL’s” Mike O’Brien). He’s been in a “super slumber” in a basement coffin since 1976. The housemates forgot, until just now, that they were supposed to awaken him within 20 years.

A real go-getter, revived Jerry wants to know if their plan for conquering the Western Hemisphere is completed. Having done little more than hypnotize some neighbors, Nandor and company re-evaluate the purpose of their afterlives. Like every viewer of the past five years, Jerry also questions the constant presence of the human documentary crew. This gets at least Nadja thinking about it too, so can we pray to all that’s unholy that the intrusive filmmakers’ fates will be integral to a Jerry-led vampire apocalypse?

Any of that depends on how satisfyingly the writers’ plan to end the series. In the meantime, the ensemble works their schticks with the smooth confidence of steampunk Dean Martins. The vamps’ dismissive yet archaic attitudes are so sharply honed, every biting comment comes off with the deftness of a well-stolen kiss.

Laszlo doesn’t care how many humans die for his experiment to succeed, while denying any knowledge of a certain Mary Shelley literary creation. The Guide (Kristen Schaal), who’s proven more needy than Guillermo or Colin at their most vulnerable moments, instantly crushes on Type-A Jerry like a trailer-dwelling Trump groupie. Nandor, aka The Relentless when he was a living warlord, digs the new office janitor job, continuing his series-long journey toward a more humble headspace.

Much of this does seem like low-hanging comic fruit. Whether that means the “Shadows” producers are pulling the plug because they’re running out of ideas or that, more to form, they’re laying carefully designed plot steps toward a spectacular finale is, at this point, a mystery akin to what happens after we die. All we can confirm is that it still manages to be quite funny, and light on the horrors usually associated with creative exhaustion.

That we can’t really guess how it’s going to end looks like a good omen.

“What We Do in the Shadows” Season 6 premieres Monday, Oct. 21, and streams the next day on Hulu.

The post ‘What We Do in the Shadows’ Season 6 Review: FX’s Hilarious Vampire Saga Sets the Stage for Monster Finale appeared first on TheWrap.

They were also once the victims of a catfishing scandal that posed harm to some of their fans and to Tegan and Sara’s privacy.

“Fanatical: The Catfishing of Tegan and Sara” is a fascinating documentary that made its world premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival. Premiering Friday on Hulu, the film provides extensive background about the duo’s rise to fame and details the story of a hacker who catfished some of their fans and tried to take the singer-songwriters’ careers down. The movie is an investigative study into the fanaticism Tegan and Sara have experienced throughout the years while attempting to uncover the hacker’s true identity.

Much of this story first occurred in 2010, when the band’s music was in its heyday. But the victims of the scam are still plagued to this day by what was done to them. The sisters have often been the face of queer music, and many of their fans identify as LGBTQ+ women who see themselves in Tegan and Sara’s musical talents and lyrics. An unidentified person posed on early social media sites like LiveJournal as Tegan, hoping to dupe fans into believing that Tegan was reaching out to them on a romantic level.

A series of online romances, many sexual in nature, took place between fans and a fake Tegan (or “Fegan” as the film dictates), who used the information they received from fans and the real-life singer to create an alter ego that wasn’t seemingly connected to the pop duo in the slightest. Some close friends of Tegan’s were targeted in the process, which ultimately affected their relationship with the “Closer” singer and her famous sister. This catfishing became a form of harassment that, in many cases, permanently scarred those who were involved, including the musicians whose personal information, like copies of their passports, was exposed.

Aside from what might have initially begun as a way for this mysterious person to connect with Tegan and Sara’s fan community, the catfishing trend took a turn when the fake account started fabricating rumors about Tegan, which took on its own fame on social media. Tegan’s reputation was at stake, and the sisters knew they had to do something to prevent further damage to their careers and their fans’ lives.

Directed by Erin Lee Carr (“Stormy”), “Fanatical: The Catfishing of Tegan and Sara” seeks to discover who was at the center of the controversy that threatened Tegan and Sara Quin’s livelihoods and the fans who felt embarrassed to tell their stories. The identity of the unknown catfisher is the key to solving this mystery ten years in the making, though (spoiler alert!) the filmmakers and Tegan are not successful in uncovering the truth. What they do find is a bond amongst many of their fans who couldn’t bring themselves to listen to Tegan and Sara’s music, as it’s taken years for them to cope with balancing reality and online personas.

Ultimately, this documentary serves as a warning to those who believe the internet doesn’t hold darkness in its ever-expanding corners. Tegan and Sara, much like college football star Manti Te’o, are just the latest celebrities to pull down the curtain and admit that they have been the victim of catfishing in the social media age. But unlike Te’o, whose story was previously detailed in the Netflix documentary “Untold: The Girlfriend Who Didn’t Exist,” Tegan and Sara’s tale doesn’t have an ending wrapped in a bow outlining the catfisher’s true identity and motives.

“Fanatical: The Catfishing of Tegan and Sara” is an invasive and stark peek into the private lives of celebrities viewed through the lens of a creepy online quasi-stalker. The duo’s large LGBTQ+ following is always top of mind in a documentary that exposes truths and leaves Tegan, in particular, vulnerable to criticism. Secrets buried for over a decade are revealed to the public for the first time, taking the catfisher’s power away from them years after their scams started.

Tegan believes that Fegan is still out there perpetuating lies as an imposter on social media, harassing their fanbase. Though no one has physically been harmed through this ordeal, it’s important to note that the emotional toll on both the pop duo and their involved fans is immense.

“Fanatical: The Catfishing of Tegan and Sara” is a worthwhile watch for those interested in avoiding such drama as it takes a deep dive into the troubles that tortured the famous twins for years.

“Fanatical: The Catfishing of Tegan and Sara” premieres Friday, Oct. 18, on Hulu.

The post ‘Fanatical: The Catfishing of Tegan and Sara’ Review: Fascinating Doc Unpacks the Dangers of Internet Fandom appeared first on TheWrap.

Therapist and walking, talking HIPAA violation Jimmy (Jason Segel) mostly avoided confronting his trauma after his wife Tia (Lilan Bowden, shown in flashback) was killed by a drunken driver by finding unorthodox, often unethical new ways for his patients to confront their own. Deft writing allowed grief, PTSD and antisocial and compulsive behaviors to be handled comedically without the people involved being butts of jokes.

Moreover, Jimmy was essentially an antihero buffered by our residual affection for Segel from his more vulnerable performances on “How I Met Your Mother” and in film roles. In addition to audience goodwill, Jimmy was ensconced in the friendship, community and wisecracks of his fellow characters. But the sometimes pointed nature of those wisecracks, by the friends and neighbors who cared for Jimmy’s teenage daughter, Alice (Lukita Maxwell), when Jimmy could not cope, reminded us that darkness always lurked nearby, and that Jimmy’s treatment of his daughter was a dereliction of duty.

A true comedy-drama created by Segel and “Ted Lasso” veterans Brett Goldstein and Bill Lawrence, “Shrinking” Season 1 contained enough edge to make it distinctive. Season 2 sands away that edge with a higher quips-per-scene ratio, more emphasis on supporting characters, an intrusive alt-rock soundtrack and other sitcom trappings.

The characters are still lovable, the performances mostly spot-on and the show, much like “Lasso,” always feels like a warm embrace. But the world of “Shrinking” has contracted instead of expanded in its sophomore season, diving deeper into the lives of characters in Jimmy’s orbit who formed a friend group in Season 1. They include the surly but wise Paul (Harrison Ford) and delightful Gaby (Jessica Williams), Jimmy’s partners in a therapy practice, and nosy neighbor Liz (a prickly yet endearing Christa Miller) and her mellow husband, Derek (the ageless Ted McGinley, who was on “Happy Days,” for goodness sake).

The most intriguing threads from last season, including Jimmy’s casual but impassioned sexual affair with Gaby, are tied up too easily, as is a storyline involving a character (played by Goldstein – Roy Kent in “Lasso”) from Jimmy’s past. Goldstein’s appearance starts off promisingly when Jimmy explodes at seeing the guy again, but seems to wrap up in the same squishy, overly optimistic manner so many conflicts in “Lasso” did — at least based on the 11 episodes (of a total 12) Apple TV+ made available to critics.

Jimmy’s tortured relationship with Alice, whom the talented Maxwell plays as poised yet still believably kidlike, seems mostly patched up. But Alice’s free therapy sessions with Paul cannot last forever — Jimmy ought to be saving up for his daughter’s future therapy.

Season 2 also might be hampered by the series’ big event — Tia’s death — having occurred even before Season 1 began. There are only so many places the show can go from there. Unlike “Lasso,” “Shrinking” lacks the built-in arc of sports storylines. An attempt to turn Jimmy’s and Paul’s attempts to counsel Sean (Luke Tennie) — a former soldier with anger issues who is living in Jimmy’s pool house — into a fierce competition plays as contrived, if not a little bit weird.

With Jimmy also having forsworn off-campus therapy sessions, fleshing out supporting characters is one of the few remaining storytelling options. This is great news for fans of the comically gifted, immensely appealing Williams, who is more of a third lead after Segel and Ford, but whose character’s storylines have been too Jimmy-centric. This season, she gets a new love interest, although the show, having perhaps struck too early, might just be biding time until revisiting a romance in later seasons.

Paul, who decided to one-up Jimmy’s inappropriate doctor-patient relationships by dating the neurologist (the always wonderful Wendie Malick) treating him for Parkinson’s disease, explores his own commitment issues while Brian, Jimmy’s self-absorbed yet loyal best friend (Michael Urie), and his more down-to-Earth husband (Devin Kawaoka), move forward in their recent marriage.

The “Modern Family” vibes are inescapable, down to expensive to really expensive L.A. homes in which the characters live and how nobody can have a gathering or even a moment of quiet without several other characters involved.

The jokes not only seem more frequent but less considered, their hit and miss quality more noticeable than in Season 1. For example, using “lazy river” as a punchline twice in a single series … the critique writes itself.

The characters are so self-actualized and self-aware that they in many ways preempt a critic’s — or any viewer’s — ability to make observations. Characters comment about how they are committing to a bit, and roast Jimmy for his hangdog expressions and Paul for his Batman-esque gutteral way of speaking. They’re really commenting on Ford and Segel, of course.

The refreshing frankness with which Gaby and Liz discussed their — and other women’s — sexuality in Season 1 also has gone missing, apart from the odd crass comment or running joke about sex toys. But the enduring comic chemistry between Williams and Miller suggests these talks could make a comeback in subsequent seasons.

With so much comic talent, including so many actors who long ago perfected the sitcom form — Segel, McGinley, Miller (“The Drew Carey Show,” “Scrubs”), Urie (“Ugly Betty”), and Malick (“Just Shoot Me”) — perhaps becoming more sitcom-esque was not a choice but a natural outgrowth of casting. Or of pacing, Season 2’s episodes tend to last 32-plus minutes sans commercials, creating a total run time in the wheelhouse of a 22-episode network sitcom’s.

Either way, those trusty iPhone alerts from Apple TV+ that let you know new episodes of “Shrinking” have dropped seem unlikely to cause a rush to watch a la “Lasso,” “The Morning Show” or even less-heralded shows like “Physical” or “Palm Royale.” Because even though the concept does not literally apply, “Shrinking” Season 2 gives the sense that you can easily catch it later, in syndication.

“Shrinking” Season 2 premieres with two episodes Wednesday, Oct. 16, on Apple TV+.

The post ‘Shrinking’ Season 2 Review: Apple’s Therapy Comedy Loses Its Edge appeared first on TheWrap.

“NCIS” is one of the jewels in the crown of the CBS network. It’s a well-oiled machine of naval-related crime-solving that has remained one of the most-viewed shows on television for over two decades. The series that started it all way back in 2002 is 22 seasons in and has outlasted three of its four spin-offs. It only makes sense for the network to keep that good ship moving forward, even though surely they’ve run out of navy-specific murders to solve at this point. Maybe that’s why this new series is a prequel, focusing on the franchise’s original hero, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

“NCIS: Origins” opens on a two-parter (now tradition for this franchise) that reintroduces audiences to Gibbs. Mark Harmon, who played the role for 20 years, is on-board as executive producer and narrator, but the role is played by franchise newcomer Austin Stowell. He’s young, handsome and tortured by the vicious murders of his wife and child (as any seasoned “NCIS” fan can already tell you.) Ready to start his career as a newly minted special agent, he joins the ranks of the Naval Investigative Service and Camp Pendleton, where he was recruited by Mike Franks (Kyle Schmid), a mustachioed agent who’s introduced like an ’80s action hero. His first-ever case is a doozy: a fire, a dead woman in the ashes and some spooky bones hanging from the ceilings. Is it satanic? Or is it all a red herring to distract from the real danger?

There are some 1980s period gags here and there, mostly references for the audience to get a quick giggle at (ooh, IBM computers and Jane Fonda workout tapes!). Largely, however, it doesn’t look all that retro. The series mercifully avoids shoulder pads and mullets and sticks to what it knows.

Don’t come to “NCIS: Origins” expecting a radical deviation from the franchise aesthetic. It’s still all glossy cinematography, endless music cues to loudly signal how everyone is feeling, and gooey corpses you’re still stunned to have pride of place on a major network during primetime.

Procedurals live and die by their formula: There’s a crime; the good guys solve it, albeit with a few forks in the road; the bad guy gets caught; life moves on, but the pain remains. Audiences enjoy the predictability as well as the minor quirks to the setup that each series provides. It’s why they’re such reliable ratings hits, even in the age of Too Much TV and streaming competition.

“NCIS” has so thoroughly perfected its formula that “Origins” dares not move even a step off the well-trodden path. The mothership show always has a cavalcade of fun and broadly defined characters and so does the prequel. Gibbs is stoic and plays by the rules, but is weighed down by the trauma of his past. Franks is a quip-spouting renegade who doesn’t play by the rules but has a heart of gold; Lala Dominguez (Mariel Molino) is the lone woman of the team, a tough-as-nails agent forced to stand out in a male-dominated workplace through good work and snark (she calls all the men “boys” a lot, just to drive this home.) Benjamin “Randy” Randolf (Caleb Martin Foote) is the golden boy who’s good with exposition dumps. These characters are all instantly recognizable within ten seconds of the audience meeting them, such is the commitment to efficiency in this series. They’ll tell you how they feel (and how to feel about them) just as quickly.

Reviewing a show like “NCIS: Origins” is tough because it’s a proudly predictable show that is nonetheless ruthlessly committed in its execution. The tropes are well-worn to the point of parody, but why wouldn’t they keep using them when they’ve proven to be so reliable? We’ve had versions of this exact set-up every season for decades: “NCIS,” “CSI,” “Law & Order,” “Bones,” “FBI,” “Criminal Minds” and so on. Critics grow bored of them but audiences don’t, and they’ll always be way more consistently viewed than the Emmy winners of any given year. The “NCIS” franchise is almost brutal in how straightforward it is and it’s the most beloved of them all. Why rock the boat when the fans want a steady ride?

Does “NCIS: Origins” succeed within the rigid boundaries it set for itself? Sure. It’s extremely watchable in the two episodes available for review. It looks good, is easily consumed, has solid acting, and a central mystery that is diverting without being labyrinthine or dumbed down. The quirk this time is both the chance to see a young Gibbs in action before he became the reliable dad of the original series, and to check out how the agents solved crimes without the often ludicrous and near-fantastical tech of modern-day TV labs. And there is something appealingly low key about a show where cops have to use payphones, and where computers are too rudimentary for anything more detailed than a spreadsheet.

In short, it’s an “NCIS” show. The success of “NCIS: Origins” will live and die on whether it can get audiences to care about these other characters while keeping its specific formula comforting in its familiarity. There’s no reason to assume they won’t pull it off. They’ve got over 1,000 episodes of TV across 46 seasons to prove it.

“NCIS: Origins” premieres Monday, Oct. 14, on CBS and streams the next day on Paramount+.

The post ‘NCIS: Origins’ Review: Young Gibbs Prequel Series Doesn’t Stray From the Franchise Mold appeared first on TheWrap.

“La Máquina,” a limited-series about an aging boxer’s comeback with a criminal underworld twist, starts out delivering on that premise. But what you get extends far beyond that.

The show opens in flashy, fast-paced Vegas, minutes before fight night. Saúl (Andrés Delgado) rushes from casino to casino in a frantic search for a bottle of Fresquita-brand tamarind juice — Esteban “La Maquina” Osuna’s (Bernal) lucky pre-match beverage. After striking out three times, Saúl settles for a different brand, which simply won’t do.

“You don’t respect the sanctity of boxing,” Andy (Luna), La Máquina’s manager, says to Saúl as they rush to remove the label off the bottle. It’s a statement tinged with irony coming from Andy, whose own corruption is later revealed to be about as extreme as his addiction to Botox. Kudos to the makeup department for transforming the typically handsome Diego Luna so much that one character later compares his plasticized face to a condom.

When they reach Esteban, he’s visibly anxious about his impending match against a much-younger competitor, and more so once he’s given the wrong drink. But it’s not long before his ex, Irasema (Eiza González), saves the day with a tamarind Fresquita in hand. Despite their divorce, audiences can sense there’s still love between the two.

After a quick pep talk from Andy, a now-smiling Esteban heads into the flashing lights of the arena. The music gets louder, the crowd roars and just as we’re hoping to see what La Máquina (which translates to “The Machine”) can do in the ring, the camera cuts to Esteban inside an ambulance, being rushed to the hospital.

“Did we win?” he asks Andy, who quickly replies, “What do you think, a-hole?”

With this most recent loss, it’s obvious the former champ is headed toward his final days in the ring. As Andy struggles to convince brands not to drop his boxer, we begin to witness Esteban’s own personal demons coming for him. It’s uncertain whether he’s having flashbacks or hearing voices, but the effect is just the same. After a visit to his doctor, we learn that Esteban is not only dealing with anxiety, he’s also struggling to stay sober. Esteban’s addictions, we later find, were the catalyst for his divorce, and his lack of custody of his two sons.

The first episode of “La Máquina” is busy planting seeds for the rest of the series, which is equal parts enjoyable and overwhelming. We find out that Andy and his wife Carlota (Karina Gidi) are trying to get pregnant. We meet Andy’s overbearing and wildly inappropriate mother, Josefina (Lucía Méndez), whose own face is as plastic as Ida Lowry’s in “Brazil.” We also begin to see glimmers of corruption: Andy blackmails João, Protasio’s manager, into setting up another fight with Esteban. He also attempts to pay off the boxing commission to ensure Esteban makes his weight. And all of this is before the 30 minute mark.

By the second half, we finally get to see Esteban in the ring, up against Protasio. After dealing a winning knockout, the crew go out to celebrate La Máquina’s comeback. But it’s in the final minutes that we find out it’s all been a smoke show: not only did Esteban not win fairly, the game’s fixers (referred to as Otras Personas throughout) are now demanding he lose his next match or die. While it seems a bit comical in a way (the threat is projected onto a karaoke screen), by now audiences will be invested enough to want to see where this is all headed.

Episode 2 continues at a rapid pace, following Andy’s attempts to bargain with Otras Personas as well as introducing Irasema’s decision to begin investigating corruption in boxing. It’s an important storyline given how few protections journalists have in Mexico, particularly when reporting on various forms of organized crime. While we see her do some investigating in Episode 2, by Episode 5 (critics were provided five of six episodes), it’s the one storyline that sadly doesn’t get fleshed out enough. In fact, we see more about Andy’s outlandish relationship with his mother, which rivals that of Lysa and Robin Arryn in “Game of Thrones” in terms of improper behavior. In one scene, for example, she exits a tanning bed fully naked in front of him, to which Andy exclaims that she promised to at least wear a thong.

By the third episode, “La Máquina” really hooks you in, though there are a few rough spots. At times, audiences aren’t sure what’s real and what’s a figment of Esteban’s imagination — a sensation that follows audiences throughout the rest of the show. It can be a tad difficult to follow at times, admittedly. There are also a few other threads that simply drop off, like Esteban’s budding connection with a young dancer he meets in the first episode. It can feel like the show would’ve been better off sticking to fewer plot lines.

The last two episodes available for review, however, are where it all really pays off. There are some truly captivating scenes, including one where Esteban’s trainer, Sixto (Jorge Perugorría), makes an attempt to help “fix” Esteban’s trauma and/or hallucinations through the use of interrogation techniques he learned during his time in the Cuban special forces (truth be told, Perugorría steals every scene he’s in). In another, Esteban ends up with his boys in the same worn-down carnival where he first took up boxing with his father. But it’s Esteban’s and Andy’s chaotic bond (and Bernal’s and Luna’s acting chops displayed brilliantly in the final minutes of episode five) that really bring this show home.

While some of the banter may get lost in translation (especially in terms of colorful slang and curse words), the show should be just as enjoyable for non-Spanish speaking audiences. Directed by Gabriel Ripstein (“600 Miles”) and written by Marco Ramirez (“Sons of Anarchy,” “Orange is the New Black”), both of whom also served as executive producers, “La Máquina” proves that Bernal and Luna’s talent transfers seamlessly from big screen to streaming.

“La Máquina” premieres Wednesday, Oct. 9, on Hulu.

The post ‘La Máquina’ Review: Diego Luna and Gael García Bernal Thrive in Hulu’s First Spanish-Language Original Series appeared first on TheWrap.

When last we saw our fateful teenage lovers Nick (Kit Connor) and Charlie (Joe Locke), the “Heartstopper” couple of the moment felt the warm embrace of support. Charlie admitted to his boyfriend that he’s experienced some semblance of self-harm throughout his time at school, a revelation that hurts Nick to his core. Charlie has been bullied for being gay, and Nick finds it difficult to understand why anyone would bully such a sweet, innocent young man like Charlie.

“Heartstopper” is full of moments like these, where Nick and Charlie explore their newfound relationship over the course of several seasons that correspond with their growth as teenage boys. Nick has had to confront the demons of his own life at home, coming out to his mother (Olivia Colman) while tending to the athletics that have made him a popular, confident person. But there’s a lot of complexity for these two lovebirds heading into the third season of the Netflix coming-of-age drama series.

Season 3 begins like many other high school-set television series before it: Summer vacation coming to a close while the core group of friends we’ve followed for several seasons start grappling with the impending idea that university isn’t so far away. Several couples are still going strong, including Tao (William Gao) and Elle (Yasmin Finney), whose trajectory has so far highlighted the trans experience in great detail. Isaac (Tobie Donovan) is contending with the idea that he might be aromantic, a result of feeling for some time as though he has zero interest in romance with another living soul.

But the reason we tune into “Heartstopper” is for Charlie and Nick’s fluorescent relationship, one founded on trust and, this season especially, love. Yes, Charlie and Nick exchange their 143s to one another, catapulting their romance to uncharted territory. But what goes up must eventually come down, and the problems of the past are thrust into their present in ways that even the two heroes don’t quite understand.

Charlie deals with his mental health in elevated ways this season, as his struggles with an eating disorder and OCD come further into focus. Nick first recognizes the signs, while Charlie’s sister Tori (Jenny Walser) does her best to handle it on the family front. But Charlie must admit it to himself first, and once that hurdle is overcome, the real healing and progress can begin.

“Heartstopper” season 3 dives into Charlie’s mental health issues from the perspective of distance, separating Charlie and Nick for much of the season as Charlie gets a handle on his eating disorder. They are always a simple phone call or text away, but physically, not being in the same room makes the heart grow fonder. When Charlie accepts his fate and begins to control his body and mind rather than the other way around, he targets the ever-present idea of having sex with Nick for the first time and crossing the bridge into a new phase of their relationship.

This season does well when confronting the reality of teenage angst in grounded ways. However, the focus steers too much into the friendship circle’s far too many couples, while Nick and Charlie’s relationship is pushed into the background. The series has always enjoyed checking off the list of LGBTQIA experiences, but without the two main characters’ storylines front and center, it’s hard to keep track of who is who and why we are meant to care about their specific coupling.

Charlie and Nick’s relationship is far more interesting to root for, though the darkness Charlie experiences might be too much for their bond to handle at times. Nick is incredibly patient as he witnesses the love of his life spiral into a sordid abyss while also making the decision of where to go to university in the near future. Charlie wants to propel their intimacy forward even if he’s uncomfortable with how his body looks, an all too familiar theme of many high school love affairs.

Teenage love is a complicated and beautifully chaotic mess that is often clouded in cliches when depicted on television. However, “Heartstopper” graphic novelist, series creator and showrunner Alice Oseman understands that it’s within this chaos that love can truly bloom for these treasured characters.

Season 3 veers off in various directions, blurred mainly by high-profile cameos and the unending support of extraneous characters. When it comes back to Nick and Charlie, though, there seems to be a balance at play, and everything appears right in the world as we witness their warm embrace on repeat.

Charlie may have found his voice in Season 2 as he stood up to the bullies in his life. In Season 3, he uses that voice to better his mind, body and spirit to ward off the bully that’s been there all along: himself.

“Heartstopper” Season 3 premieres Thursday, Oct. 3, on Netflix.

The post ‘Heartstopper’ Season 3 Review: Love and Mental Health Crowd Netflix’s Lovely British Teen Drama appeared first on TheWrap.

Also similar to “Veep” is the new show’s mix of schadenfreude for a cursed system and reluctant sympathy for its various cogs (at least the less openly venal ones). It becomes clear early on that it would probably be better for the artistic health of the film industry if a movie like “Tecto,” a seemingly “Aquaman”-like installment of a very Marvel-style cinematic universe from, ah, Maximum Studios, simply crashed and burned. Yet Daniel (Himesh Patel), the film’s beleaguered first assistant director, is a reasonable guy just trying to do his job well and help the easily flustered and sometimes indecisive actual director Eric (Daniel Brühl) realize his vision within the ever-shifting parameters set by crass executive idiot Pat (Darren Goldstein), depicted as kind of a second-in-command to a Kevin Feige type. Pat delegates some of this enforcement to producer Anita (Aya Cash), who also, in a development that never feels fully convincing or productive, happens to be Daniel’s ex.

It takes a while for Anita to actually show up in the story, which allows “The Franchise” to get a little muddled in its own POV early on. Daniel is likable but not all that funny, and at first, it seems like the audience’s entry point will be Dag (Lolly Adefope), a third AD who is learning the ropes from Daniel as the show opens, allowing viewers to be briefed alongside her. But throughout the season, Dag’s character remains baffling. Sometimes she issues dry commentary on the absurdities that surround her. Sometimes she comes across as a cringe-comedy striver, making repeated and awkward attempts to leapfrog out of the job she seems to barely know how to do. In some scenes she despairs for the state of the film industry; in others she seems utterly uninterested in it, and her personal ambitions (leave the set early for a party or become a high-powered producer?) seem to change from episode to episode. Put together, the character seems off in two or three different orbits at once, and Adefope spends a lot of time standing around with her hands in her pockets, wearing a drolly insinuating expression, as if waiting for her “Fleabag” moment to turn to the camera.

It’s probably not Adefope’s fault; though “The Franchise” can be quite cutting, it skews a bit more stereotypically workplace-sitcom than “Veep,” meaning it sometimes errs on the side of quirky rather than nasty. “Franchise” also shares with Iannucci’s work a tendency to become exhausting through sheer running-in-circles repetition, something that probably reflects the experience of making a superhero movie almost too accurately. Either way, Eric acquiring a nervous case of hiccups during times of stress does not get funnier with its third or fourth appearance.

Ironically, one of the best bits of “The Franchise” is its own approximation of big-budget slickness. Executive producer Sam Mendes also directed the first episode, and contributes an elaborate state-of-the-set tracking shot that ably sets up the show’s environment and stakes. The whole season feels saturated with behind-the-scenes details and a panicked yet cynical atmosphere; even if they’re fake (and the producers claimed to have done their research), they’re faked quite cleverly. The show has particular fun mining the insecurities of second-tier leading actor Adam (Billy Magnussen) and the vexing lack of insecurities present in his veteran co-star Peter (Richard E. Grant).

To be clear, “The Franchise” often is quite funny, in its satirical skewering of big-studio angling (there’s a hilariously superficial attempt to quickly solve the studio’s “woman problem,” which naturally then incurs the wrath of internet fanboys despite being utterly ineffectual), observations of superhero (and therefore cultural) decline, and depiction of the enormous resources and effort poured into a movie that will nonetheless wind up looking and sounding OK at best. But the machinery that threatens to comically overwhelm the characters also threatens to overwhelm the show itself. Despite Brown’s abiding appreciation for the below-the-line crew who make these movies happen, it’s hard not to wonder if a more focused show would center on Cash’s Anita, who more clearly embodies the industry at large in both her ruthlessness and her self-loathing.

Broadened into an ensemble, “The Franchise,” like “Tecto” itself, sometimes seems too big to either fail or fully succeed, stuck in perpetual-motion hell.

“The Franchise” premieres Sunday, Oct. 6, on HBO.

The post ‘The Franchise’ Review: HBO’s Superhero Movie Comedy Falls Flat appeared first on TheWrap.

This was the rallying cry from fans during the early days of “The Walking Dead” on the way to an 11-season run, as Norman Reedus’ character, Daryl Dixon, quickly rose to the forefront of the expansive ensemble and became a favorite.

And it’s not hard to see why.

Dixon was a wholly original creation absent from Robert Kirkman’s comic book source material. Thanks to his characterization as a taciturn badass with a slowly-revealed heart of gold (a sturdy archetype in pop culture if ever there was one) coupled with Reedus’ multi-layered portrayal, fans proclaimed loudly and passionately that, while the “Walking Dead” cast was famously expendable from the start, Daryl was not.

As such, the franchise shifting to smaller, character-centric spinoffs in the aftermath of the flagship’s conclusion in 2022 has been particularly suited to Daryl, allowing his progress to continue while rewarding the rabid devotion he continues to command.

More so than even the Maggie-and-Negan series “Dead City” (which has a second season dropping next year), this show is letting you know its focus right upfront: Daryl Dixon. His name is in the title. He’ll probably make it to the end. As such, without audiences having to carry anticipatory trauma at all times, there can be more of a focus on worldbuilding and plot mechanics. Overarching plotlines intertwine with little vignettes of day-to-day life, all lending added complexity to this new European wing of “The Walking Dead.”

With the Season 1 finale having answered the mystery of how precisely Daryl washed up on the shores of France at the start of the show, the second season, subtitled “The Book of Carol,” picks up with our titular hero (still minus his trusty trademark crossbow!) settling into life with a conclave of survivors in the outskirts of post-apocalyptic Paris, staying a few steps ahead of the paramilitary Pouvoir Du Vivant organization that has taken over much of the city. As usually tends to be the case with heroes of his ilk, he keeps trying to get home but something keeps getting in the way to prevent it.

In this case that “something” is the bond Daryl has formed with ex-nun Isabelle (Clémence Poésy) and pre-teen Laurent (Louis Puech Scigliuzz), the miraculous child born from a zombified mother. Over the course of the franchise, Daryl has gone from a lone survivor to a caring figure in a post-apocalyptic family, and Reedus embodies this evolution with practiced ease, having played the role for so long even the tiny subtleties of his expressions carry the weight of a decade-and-a-half of growth.

Of course, this being “The Walking Dead,” there are plenty of complications to contend with in the interim. While much is different on the other side of the pond, one thing that hasn’t changed is the human capacity to inflict violence on other humans, zombies or no. Thus, Daryl finds himself in the midst of warring religious and authoritarian factions vying to possess Laurent, putting to use all the skills he gained as a leader in the main series while having to learn some new tricks in an entirely new environment. It also helps to have a hiss-worthy baddie in the form of Pouvoir leader Marion Genet (Anne Charrier) for Daryl to square off against in a battle of wits.

Oh, and then there’s Carol. As the subtitle suggests, her journey is crucial to this season. The fan-favorite played by Melissa McBride — initially intended as a co-lead with Reedus during the first year before logistical issues forced the actress to back out — made a welcome return during the closing moments of the previous season, scouring the badlands and searching for her missing bestie.

Carol’s quest to track down Dixon and join him in Europe showcases McBride’s command of the character’s many complexities. The eventual reconnection of Daryl and Carol, whose friendship is one of the franchise’s most cherished aspects among the fandom, is an emotional highlight. Any chance to see Reedus and McBride, both “Walking Dead” royalty at this point, bring their characters to life again alongside each other feels like a gift for the audience.

The early Season 3 renewal for this spinoff serves as a welcome reassurance for the fans. Unlike “The Walking Dead: The Ones Who Live” from earlier this year — which felt like a coda for Andrew Lincoln’s iconic Rick Grimes (while still leaving the door open just a crack for potential further visits) — we know there’s still more to come in Daryl and Carol’s story. And as “The Book of Carol” makes clear, there’s plenty of life left in “Daryl Dixon” — no need to riot.

“The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon – The Book of Carol” premieres Sunday, Sept. 29, on AMC and AMC+.

The post ‘The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon – The Book of Carol’ Review: Norman Reedus and Melissa McBride’s Reunion Delights appeared first on TheWrap.

As summer comes to a close and autumn gets into full swing, it’s typically the time of year when Spooky Season materializes. This year, however, television is bringing audiences a Murphy Fall as megaproducer and showrunner Ryan Murphy appears to be pumping out new shows every week this month. In addition to “American Sports Story: Aaron Hernandez” currently airing on FX, there’s a bloodbath taking place on Netflix with “Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story” and a new medical drama starring Joshua Jackson called “Doctor Odyssey” getting ready to set sail on ABC.

But first, Murphy is welcomed back to the horror genre by unveiling the limited series “Grotesquerie,” which debuted on FX Wednesday with a two-episode premiere event.

“Grotesquerie” stars Murphy-favorite Niecy Nash-Betts (who also wears an executive producer hat on the series) as Detective Lois Tryon. Detective Tryon is a no-nonsense, cigarette-smoking, flask-drinking alcoholic detective whose life has clearly gone in a direction she wasn’t anticipating. Her world-renowned Philosophy professor husband (Courtney B. Vance) is fighting for his life in a coma while her adult daughter still lives at home and fights weight issues.

Detective Tryon is a curious woman by nature. She faces the wrath of her husband’s nurse (Lesley Manville) while contending with a series of gory murder cases increasing in severity and religious undertones. She’s approached by an even more curious character, Sister Megan (Micaela Diamond), a nun by day and reporter by night who offers insight into the possible serial killer plaguing Tryon’s jurisdiction.

What a jurisdiction it is, as the town could rival Gotham City in high levels of eccentric criminals running the streets. As the bodies pile up and the murders become more grotesque (at one point, they insinuate the killer boiled a baby in a pot while listening to Mozart and served a father’s cheek to his family like carpaccio), the more paranoid Tryon becomes. Leaning on Sister Megan for support while continuously drinking vodka gives Tryon the clarity she needs to figure out what’s going on.

“Grotesquerie” is filled to the brim with peculiar characters and a paranoia that consumes Detective Tryon from the jump. Initially presented as a typical police drama, the series progresses into a sociopathic study of the macabre. Tryon believes someone is following her, and by the second episode, flashbacks provide context as to where some of her own psychosis began.

Sister Megan’s unorthodox obsession with true crime and satanic cults makes her relationship with the youthful Father Charlie (“Monsters” star Nicholas Chavez) even more strange as the two are seen in the second episode gabbing at a diner about their shared morbid fascination with serial killers. He’s a sin-filled priest who flogs himself after masturbating, so it’s clear that we are dealing with an array of strange individuals in every scene.

But Manville’s Nurse Redd is the strangest by far in the first two episodes. Wearing high-heels and sporting a retro hairdo, Nurse Redd might be taking on the mantle of Louise Fletcher’s Nurse Ratched from “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” but without the subtlety and grace the latter gave to her patients. Hers is a character that feels out of place in a modern-era hospital, confusing both the audience and Detective Tryon.

Having a stereotypical police officer role imbibing on liquor in order to get through the harshness of reality isn’t groundbreaking, but Niecy Nash-Betts is more than qualified to take on the cliche. A gifted actor whose promotion to leading lady in this series is much deserved, given the wealth of talent she brings to such an unseemly character.

There’s definitely more than meets the eye in the first two episodes of “Grotesquerie” as series creators Ryan Murphy, Jon Robin Baitz (“Feud”) and Joe Baken (“American Horror Stories”) build a world full of odd creatures and even more odd theological motives. Though Kansas City Chiefs tight end Travis Kelce’s role is yet to be clarified, the show moves along like an investigation into the mind of Detective Tryon and the serial killer she pursues to no end.

“Grotesquerie” airs Wednesdays at 10 p.m. ET/PT on FX and streams the next day on Hulu.

The post ‘Grotesquerie’ Review: Niecy Nash-Betts Investigates Satanic Crimes in Ryan Murphy’s Gory Horror Story appeared first on TheWrap.