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.
Killing Eve. BBC America’s mesmerizingly unique love story. Assassin pursued by a British agent. Vice-versa. To dub this a feminist trope would be soul-less and silly at best. It’s an intimate sensuous cold look at raw characters. Sandra Oh. Jodie Comer. Acting, writing uncannily different. It has the spirit and wit of HBO’s Barry. Edgy ensemble, especially laugh-out-loud Russian trend-talky caricatures. Violent. Ironic. Startling. Jaundiced. Captivating. Must see.
Warlight. A new novel by the brilliant author Michael Ondaatdje. Not as good as one of my all-time favorites The Cat’s Table, 2011. His table metaphors continue, nonetheless. It is a melodic poetic post-WWII tale of a boy abandoned by his parents and left to the care of loving Dickensian rascals. His mother, Rose, worked with one of them on the roof of the Grosvenor House Hotel in London during the war, intercepting enemy communications.
Mansour Ghalibaf of the Hotel Northampton in Table’s Edge, happened to be partner with owners of the Grosvenor House consortium, descendants from those days. As an aside.
Bachelorette Meghan got the rose. An American actress divorcée (not that there’s anything wrong with that) finds love again with Harry. The exceedingly eligible cute redheaded Bachelor. An English guy. They survive the destination date to Africa. Hot tubs may have been involved. Yet. He is a prince and a Prince.
They eschew the hometown parents visit. Her family may be a little too colorful for the BBC and his dysfunctionally royal clan. But. In the finale he does present her with a ring. She says yes. The engagement is of course a very public affair with lots of rules. And photo shoots.
The wedding production is certainly worthy of weeks-long wall-to-wall media coverage on every outlet. Gaggles of anchors crossing the pond to narrate the anointed nuptials. It’ll be a ratings extravaganza! Life has become a never-ending reality show. This more than fits the bill.
This week in NYC the up-fronts come to town. Traditional old television networks present advertisers with their lineup for the new season. Tough times with all of the alternatives for watching shows now. Can hardly name more than a handful that are worth tuning in to NBC, ABC, CBS. Or Fox. Maybe the competition will make them better. So far not so much.
However, there does seem to be a tide turning. ABC’s Jimmy Kimmel and NBC’s SNL are starting to admit that Trump-bashing comedy, low-hanging jokes are falling flat with general audiences. Hope Democrats will take the hint and realize that a positive message and charismatic candidate will gain more voters than a constant TTSD rant.