Inès Melab and an excellent cast in The Romanoff’s first episode, The Violet Hour. With Marthe Keller and Aaron Eckhart an unexpectedly sweet fairy tale. From Mad Men’s Matt Weiner.
Showtime. Patrick Mahomes. Baby-faced phenom Kansas City Chiefs Quarterback. Almost pulled off a win against the Patriots in Foxboro. Brady, Gronk, Hightower all gave respect.
Meghan & Harry expecting in the Spring.
Here’s to all the UWS sufferers who lose parking spaces for the sake of TV shows. Amy Sherman Palladino gave you your due (Dr. Husband).
She acknowledged those who make the frequent sacrifice on tonight’s Emmy’s. Her brilliant Amazon Marvelous Mrs. Maisel was the street sweeper. A blinking light in an otherwise dismally dim show.
Killing Eve robbed. SNL loser. But. Yay. Henry Winkler. Peter Dinklage. Claire Foy. Bill Hader. Game of Thrones.
– Photo: Rachel Brosnahan voting in character on West 84th. September 13. West Side Rag.
Looking forward to a refreshing Fall. In the meantime, two excellent series had their finales.
The Affair tied up all its loose ends in perfect knots. The best season since the first. Noah & Cole’s excellent adventure with Anton was hilarious. Until it wasn’t. Everyone’s character honestly portrayed to the climax. A parting shot of Lobster Roll on the Montauk Highway. Empty without Alison. Cannot imagine why a Season 5. What will they do?
Sharp Objects. More a mood piece than story. Twin Peaks-y when it was good. Music brilliant. Ensemble cast stellar. Patricia Clarkson the perfect quiet witch of a mother. Watched it twice. So rich in detail. A fun if unsavory summer side dish. Parlante!
Every day the media starts a story, “Trump sparks outrage by … fill in the blank.” Tweeting insults. Inciting hostilities at campaign rallies. Everything cannot rise to the level of shock and awe. It equivocates confabulations by everyone. Which takes us to Omarosa. The ultimate villain on The Apprentice. A constant and consummate prevaricator. Bringing her into the White House was a joke and a super bad idea. It would never end well. She seeks revenge on everyone. Friend or foe. The only character who could out-con the Orange Man. Though. What’s even more outrageous in this new reality show is the New York Times et al placing Omarosa stories above the fold. That’s the most destructive societal blow.
August in the City. Supposed to be steamy and empty. The former too true. The latter not. Besides the throngs of flip-flopping tourists along Central Park West and up to Le Pain Quotidien, it’s been a stream of visiting family and friends. That’s good.
Still time to catch Sunday tv faves. Succession finale. Too soon. Want more! Campy soap with great cast. Brian Cox as media mogul Logan Roy. Jeremy Strong as snivelling Don Jr.-esque son and Kieran Culkin as the rollicking runt. Sarah Snook the only miss. Looking forward to next year. Sharp Objects remains a riveting dark mother-daughter dynamic. The Affair best-written since the first. And snuck in Cristina Alger’s inane beach book, The Banker’s Wife.
So bereft that Melania has been spotted honoring Gold Star Families at the White House tonight. Dispelled our favorite fantasy conspiracy theory that she went the way of Scientology David Miscavige’s wife Shelly. Ruined the whole night’s cable coverage of the missing Stepford. Back to Don Jr. and Kimberly Guilfoyle.
On to good television choices. Four episodes of Collateral on Netflix shines a light on immigration in England. And it’s an intriguing murder story as well. Succession on HBO has promise. First episode of ten was fun. The Murdoch’s? Dynasty starring Jerry Hall.
Sports are becoming less and less watchable for spectators. Especially on TV. Baseball’s pitching switches and glitches make for hours of dead airtime. NBA is okay in the last 2 minutes. Shoot. Shoot. No plays. Tennis in the era of grunting is only endurable on mute.
Then there’s golf. The so-called Golf Channel barely covers parts of major events including The Majors. Silly wasted delays to wait for network coverage. If you can actually see it live, more and more young golfers tap dance, check their stats, yip around up and down for so long that Nick Faldo can read an entire Shakespeare drama between shots. Why aren’t they on the clock. Ruining the sport.
So. Yeah. At least it’s too nice a day to stay inside anyway.