NEWS - A dieta dopo le Feste! Ecco come non ingrassare guardando le serie tv...
Articolo di Mariarosa Mancuso per "Il Foglio"
A furia di vedere serie tv temete di ritrovarvi con "un culo che fa provincia"? (copyright Mario Moniceli in "Parenti serpenti": lo dice Miriam Leone alla figlia adolescente strappandole il gelato di mano). Andrà peggio, molto peggio. Il British Journal of Sports Medicine ha stabilito che ogni ora di televisione guardata dopo i 25 anni toglie venti minuti di vita. Pare di ricordare che neppure le sigarette avessero effetti tanto devastanti. Prima dei 25 anni restiamo con il dubbio: forse i bambini che ne hanno vista fin dall'asilo alla maggiore età neppure arrivano. Oppure sono vaccinati e possono guardarla a oltranza. Servono lumi, da chi sa. L'ha scritto il British Journal of Sports Medicine — dimenticando le statistiche sui malanni da jogging e le soporifere conversazioni di chi non ha la tv e comunque le serie non le guarderebbe. Com'è naturale — in questo mondo votato alla prevenzione (soprattutto di accidenti che mai succederanno) — subito arrivano le contromosse. Per evitare danni bisogna mangiare acini d'uva ghiacciati, suggerisce Jeff Wilser su Vulture. Sono lo spuntino perfetto, ingannano la mente convinta di star mangiando un gelato. Più difficile, ammette l'articolista, farsi venire voglia di carote crude mentre si guarda una puntata sanguinaria di "Game of Thrones". Bisogna fare pause, come al lavoro. Tappa che segue all'ergonomia da scrivania, scavalcata dai contorcimenti per guardare i Black Mirror anche quando sarebbe vietato (alle anteprime importanti il cellulare viene imbustato, per liberarlo dalla morsa servono unghie ad artiglio). Oppure proibitivo, per esempio sotto l'ombrellone. Dove però è più facile seguire la regola del venti-venti-venti. Ogni venti minuti bisognerebbe staccare gli occhi dallo schermo, fissare qualcosa distante venti piedi (diciamo sei metri, non basta la parete di fronte) per almeno venti secondi. Poi si può riprendere con l'episodio della serie messo in pausa. "Binge Better" è il titolo dell'articolo. Come dire "Ingozzati meglio" (di immagini, si intende). Chi lo ha scritto evidentemente non sa, o finge di non sapere, che il Binge Watching incatena un episodio dietro l'altro, saltando per fare prima i titoli di coda. Anche i titoli di testa a volte si possono saltare, quando arrivano dopo la prima scena e sono uno spettacolo a sé come in "The Affair" o in "True Detective": sublimi, ma dopo tre o quattro episodi incatenati non è un delitto andare avanti veloci. L'indigestione programmata — decidi prima quanti episodi vuoi vedere — va molto vicino a una contraddizione in termini. Riduci l'illuminazione dello schermo. Bevi molta acqua (fa bene a tutto, finché qualcuno scoprirà che fa malissimo). Ultimo consiglio: prendi in considerazione l'acquisto di un televisore, come quello che i genitori hanno in salotto. Già, perché i consigli salutistici sono gentilmente forniti a chi le serie le guarda sul computer, sul cellulare, sul tablet. Non vogliamo sapere cosa i medici sportivi britannici pensino di "Binging With Babish", dove "Binging" riconduce al cibo e Babish omaggia Oliver Babish, cicciottello consigliere alla Casa Bianca nella serie "West Wing" di Aaron Sorkin. Il corso di cucina più seriale che c'è: rifa e insegna i piatti delle serie televisive. Il pollo fritto che Louis C. K. — in "Louie" — porta alla festa sbagliata. Il gigantesco sandwich del Giorno del Ringraziamento preparato da Monica in "Friends". La crostata alle ciliegie divorata dall'agente speciale Dale Cooper in "Twin Peaks".
Visualizzazione post con etichetta Louie. Mostra tutti i post
Visualizzazione post con etichetta Louie. Mostra tutti i post
mercoledì 4 gennaio 2017
Etichette:
Aaron Sorkin,
Friends,
Game of Thrones,
L'EDICOLA DI LOU,
Louie,
Louis CK,
Mariarosa Mancuso,
Miriam Leone,
NEWS,
The Affair,
True Detective,
Twin Peaks,
West Wing
giovedì 11 settembre 2014
NEWS - Sky si ripettina (non ditelo a quello in mezzo nella foto sopra)! Dal 1 novembre due nuovi canali Fox (era indispensabile?)
(ANSA) - MILANO, 10 SET - Sono in arrivo due nuovi canali targati Fox International Channels su Sky. Dal primo novembre si accenderanno, infatti, Fox Animation e Fox Comedy, per offrire agli abbonati Sky "il meglio dei due generi". Su Fox Comedy, la 'casa del divertimento', verranno trasmesse serie comedy e sitcom prodotte negli Stati Uniti: da classici, come New Girl e Modern Family, a novita', tra cui Friends with better lives, Welcome to the family e progetti innovativi come Wilfred, Louie, The league o It's always sunny in Philadelphia. Su Fox animation, la 'casa delle serie animate', troveranno spazio classici del genere, come The Simpson, I Griffin e American Dad ed esclusive come Bob's burger, Brickelberry e King of the hill, in attesa del nuovo Bordertown di Seth MacFarlane. "Il lancio di questi due nuovi brand indica l'energia e la creativita' del gruppo, e la voglia di investire in nuovi progetti", ha spiegato l'amministratore delegato di Fox International Channel, Fabrizio Salini, durante la presentazione dei nuovi programmi Sky a Milano. "Abbiamo scelto di lanciare nuovi canali di genere come Comedy e Animation - ha spiegato Alberto Rossini, vicepresidente Entertainment and Factual di Fox Italia -, perche' la semplificazione della proposta e' un magnete attrattivo nei confronti degli spettatori". Approda poi sui canali Fox Italia una delle serie televisive "piu' attese della prossima stagione", Wayward Pines, con la regia di M. Night Shyamalan e un cast composto dagli attori Matt Dillon, Melissa Leo, Terrence Howard, Juliette Lewis e Toby Jones. E' una delle novita' della programmazione di Sky per la stagione 2015, presentata oggi a Milano. Tra gli ospiti anche Matt Dillon che nella nuova serie tv veste i panni di un agente segreto in missione in una cittadina americana, Wayward Pines, in cerca di due agenti federali scomparsi nel nulla. Una volta arrivato, scoprira' di non essere piu' in grado di andarsene e di comunicare con l'esterno, rimanendo intrappolato in uno scenario surreale e inquietante e in situazioni umoristiche. "Il progetto mi e' piaciuto subito - ha spiegato Dillon - ed ero incuriosito dalla possibilita' di recitare in una serie televisiva. La tv e' un mezzo estremamente potente ed efficace -ha proseguito - che rispetto al cinema permette di entrare piu' all'interno di una storia, raccontandola in diverse puntate''. ''Ho lavorato con un cast fantastico - ha proseguito - e il regista ha avuto la capacita' di tirare fuori il meglio dagli attori". Dillon ha pero' rifiutato il paragone tra Wayward Pines e la celebre serie Twin Peaks, perche' Twin Peaks e' "unica e inimitabile". La nuova serie si aggiungera' all'offerta Fox su Sky, con l'obiettivo di proporre ogni sera "una prima visione in prime time".
Tra le fiction, Sky punta su Papa Giovane, la prima serie tv diretta dal regista premio Oscar Paolo Sorrentino, che racconta sogni, paure e desideri di un pontefice, i Delitti del BarLume, tratta dai romanzi di Marco Malvaldi, e Diabolik-La serie, ispirata al popolare fumetto. Andra' in onda nel 2015 la serie in 10 episodi 1992, da un'idea di Stefano Accorsi, che racconta la stagione di Tangentopoli. L'obiettivo e' quello di raggiungere i picchi d'ascolto di Gomorra, venduta in oltre 70 Paesi: le riprese della seconda serie della fiction ispirata al libro di Roberto Saviano inizieranno a marzo. "Gomorra si e' dimostrato uno dei prodotti di maggiore successo della scorsa stagione - ha spiegato l'executive vice president per Cinema, intrattenimento e news di Sky Italia Andrea Scrosati - e probabilmente sara' il primo film italiano che verra' doppiato negli Stati Uniti, allargando ancora di piu' il pubblico. Abbiamo fatto grossi investimenti - ha proseguito - e da 100 ore di trasmissioni autoprodotte quest'anno siamo passati a 300". Spazio anche alle grandi fiction internazionali su Sky Atlantic Hd, con titoli come House of cards 2, True detective, Boardwalk Empire e Fargo.
(ANSA) - MILANO, 10 SET - Sono in arrivo due nuovi canali targati Fox International Channels su Sky. Dal primo novembre si accenderanno, infatti, Fox Animation e Fox Comedy, per offrire agli abbonati Sky "il meglio dei due generi". Su Fox Comedy, la 'casa del divertimento', verranno trasmesse serie comedy e sitcom prodotte negli Stati Uniti: da classici, come New Girl e Modern Family, a novita', tra cui Friends with better lives, Welcome to the family e progetti innovativi come Wilfred, Louie, The league o It's always sunny in Philadelphia. Su Fox animation, la 'casa delle serie animate', troveranno spazio classici del genere, come The Simpson, I Griffin e American Dad ed esclusive come Bob's burger, Brickelberry e King of the hill, in attesa del nuovo Bordertown di Seth MacFarlane. "Il lancio di questi due nuovi brand indica l'energia e la creativita' del gruppo, e la voglia di investire in nuovi progetti", ha spiegato l'amministratore delegato di Fox International Channel, Fabrizio Salini, durante la presentazione dei nuovi programmi Sky a Milano. "Abbiamo scelto di lanciare nuovi canali di genere come Comedy e Animation - ha spiegato Alberto Rossini, vicepresidente Entertainment and Factual di Fox Italia -, perche' la semplificazione della proposta e' un magnete attrattivo nei confronti degli spettatori". Approda poi sui canali Fox Italia una delle serie televisive "piu' attese della prossima stagione", Wayward Pines, con la regia di M. Night Shyamalan e un cast composto dagli attori Matt Dillon, Melissa Leo, Terrence Howard, Juliette Lewis e Toby Jones. E' una delle novita' della programmazione di Sky per la stagione 2015, presentata oggi a Milano. Tra gli ospiti anche Matt Dillon che nella nuova serie tv veste i panni di un agente segreto in missione in una cittadina americana, Wayward Pines, in cerca di due agenti federali scomparsi nel nulla. Una volta arrivato, scoprira' di non essere piu' in grado di andarsene e di comunicare con l'esterno, rimanendo intrappolato in uno scenario surreale e inquietante e in situazioni umoristiche. "Il progetto mi e' piaciuto subito - ha spiegato Dillon - ed ero incuriosito dalla possibilita' di recitare in una serie televisiva. La tv e' un mezzo estremamente potente ed efficace -ha proseguito - che rispetto al cinema permette di entrare piu' all'interno di una storia, raccontandola in diverse puntate''. ''Ho lavorato con un cast fantastico - ha proseguito - e il regista ha avuto la capacita' di tirare fuori il meglio dagli attori". Dillon ha pero' rifiutato il paragone tra Wayward Pines e la celebre serie Twin Peaks, perche' Twin Peaks e' "unica e inimitabile". La nuova serie si aggiungera' all'offerta Fox su Sky, con l'obiettivo di proporre ogni sera "una prima visione in prime time".Tra le fiction, Sky punta su Papa Giovane, la prima serie tv diretta dal regista premio Oscar Paolo Sorrentino, che racconta sogni, paure e desideri di un pontefice, i Delitti del BarLume, tratta dai romanzi di Marco Malvaldi, e Diabolik-La serie, ispirata al popolare fumetto. Andra' in onda nel 2015 la serie in 10 episodi 1992, da un'idea di Stefano Accorsi, che racconta la stagione di Tangentopoli. L'obiettivo e' quello di raggiungere i picchi d'ascolto di Gomorra, venduta in oltre 70 Paesi: le riprese della seconda serie della fiction ispirata al libro di Roberto Saviano inizieranno a marzo. "Gomorra si e' dimostrato uno dei prodotti di maggiore successo della scorsa stagione - ha spiegato l'executive vice president per Cinema, intrattenimento e news di Sky Italia Andrea Scrosati - e probabilmente sara' il primo film italiano che verra' doppiato negli Stati Uniti, allargando ancora di piu' il pubblico. Abbiamo fatto grossi investimenti - ha proseguito - e da 100 ore di trasmissioni autoprodotte quest'anno siamo passati a 300". Spazio anche alle grandi fiction internazionali su Sky Atlantic Hd, con titoli come House of cards 2, True detective, Boardwalk Empire e Fargo.
Etichette:
1992,
Andrea Scrosati,
Diabolik,
Fargo,
Friends with better lives,
It's always sunny in Philadelphia,
Juliette Lewis,
Louie,
Matt Dillon,
Modern Family,
network,
NEWS,
Sky,
The League,
Twin Peaks,
Wayward Pines
mercoledì 28 maggio 2014
NEWS - C'è poco da ridere! La prossima stagione sarà all'insegna del drama (meno sit-com per tutti)
Articolo di Brian Lowry per "Variety"
Desperate times call for desperate scheduling. And in the case of network comedy, that means breaking with longstanding traditions in seeking to invigorate a signature TV genre that is struggling mightily to find its place in the DVR age. The upcoming 2014-15 season was unveiled during last week’s network upfront presentations, coming on the heels of a year where much pre-season buzz surrounded a glut of high-profile comedies and big names — Michael J. Fox! Robin Williams! — gracing TV with their presence. Many critics glommed onto new shows with “Comedy’s back” abandon, enthusing over half-hours like “Enlisted,” “The Crazy Ones,” “Brooklyn Nine-Nine” and “About a Boy.”
While the last two will be back, the pile-up of canceled comedies resembled the carnage in a summer blockbuster. NBC finally got around to pulling the plug on “Community,” and announced a closing run of “Parks and Recreation,” shows whose media footprint always far surpassed their Nielsen resumes.
The real jaw-dropping takeaway from the aggregated lineups, however, is how decades of tradition were discarded, largely because the challenge in launching new comedies has become so formidable.
Toward that end, NBC will shift a drama, “The Blacklist,” to anchor its Thursday lineup at midseason, and kick off the fall with reality competition “The Biggest Loser” in the 8 p.m. hour — the first time the Peacock will be comedy-free to open the night in more than three decades. (NBC did move “The Apprentice” into its 9 p.m. slot during Jeff Zucker’s tenure, generally seen as a Hail Mary pass after years of squandered sitcom development.)
Fox, meanwhile, will break up its longtime Animation Domination block, pairing “The Simpsons” and “Family Guy” on Sunday with two live-action sitcoms, “Brooklyn Nine-Nine” and the new “Mulaney,” respectively.
CBS felt compelled to shrink its comedy footprint by an hour, and thanks to its acquisition of Thursday-night football, will get through a chunk of the fall airing only two sitcoms.
During his network’s upfront, ABC entertainment chief Paul Lee described passion as a must-have ingredient for program survival in the modern age, saying of successful shows, “It’s about what you love — what you seek out.”
Sitcoms have still managed to form love connections. But with a few ostentatious exceptions — CBS’ “The Big Bang Theory” and to a lesser degree ABC’s “Modern Family” — those bonds have been with smaller audiences, to whom such shows can speak in a more particular way. Other than those Emmy-nominated network hits, the roster of cable award contenders, like “Girls,” “Veep” and “Louie,” draw crowds that would get them canceled between the first and second commercial breaks by any broadcaster.
Echoing Lee, Fox counterpart Kevin Reilly discussed the need for new shows to make noise in order to get noticed. But comedies generally struggle to conjure the kind of noise-making concepts that dramas or reality shows can, which is why new sitcoms have traditionally relied on an existing hit to help lead people into the tent. “Strong lead-ins still matter,” CBS entertainment president Nina Tassler says.
In success, of course, there’s still nothing quite so lucrative as a wildly popular comedy — and even in this day and age, “Big Bang” is a supernova of profits for Warner Bros. Television.
Amid the din of channels crying for attention, however, the sound emanating from such hits, along with the experience of widely shared laughter, looks to be slowly but steadily fading. And if that trend can’t be reversed, sitcoms as a genre could really be the biggest loser.
Articolo di Brian Lowry per "Variety"
Desperate times call for desperate scheduling. And in the case of network comedy, that means breaking with longstanding traditions in seeking to invigorate a signature TV genre that is struggling mightily to find its place in the DVR age. The upcoming 2014-15 season was unveiled during last week’s network upfront presentations, coming on the heels of a year where much pre-season buzz surrounded a glut of high-profile comedies and big names — Michael J. Fox! Robin Williams! — gracing TV with their presence. Many critics glommed onto new shows with “Comedy’s back” abandon, enthusing over half-hours like “Enlisted,” “The Crazy Ones,” “Brooklyn Nine-Nine” and “About a Boy.”
While the last two will be back, the pile-up of canceled comedies resembled the carnage in a summer blockbuster. NBC finally got around to pulling the plug on “Community,” and announced a closing run of “Parks and Recreation,” shows whose media footprint always far surpassed their Nielsen resumes.
The real jaw-dropping takeaway from the aggregated lineups, however, is how decades of tradition were discarded, largely because the challenge in launching new comedies has become so formidable.
Toward that end, NBC will shift a drama, “The Blacklist,” to anchor its Thursday lineup at midseason, and kick off the fall with reality competition “The Biggest Loser” in the 8 p.m. hour — the first time the Peacock will be comedy-free to open the night in more than three decades. (NBC did move “The Apprentice” into its 9 p.m. slot during Jeff Zucker’s tenure, generally seen as a Hail Mary pass after years of squandered sitcom development.)
Fox, meanwhile, will break up its longtime Animation Domination block, pairing “The Simpsons” and “Family Guy” on Sunday with two live-action sitcoms, “Brooklyn Nine-Nine” and the new “Mulaney,” respectively.
CBS felt compelled to shrink its comedy footprint by an hour, and thanks to its acquisition of Thursday-night football, will get through a chunk of the fall airing only two sitcoms.
During his network’s upfront, ABC entertainment chief Paul Lee described passion as a must-have ingredient for program survival in the modern age, saying of successful shows, “It’s about what you love — what you seek out.”
Sitcoms have still managed to form love connections. But with a few ostentatious exceptions — CBS’ “The Big Bang Theory” and to a lesser degree ABC’s “Modern Family” — those bonds have been with smaller audiences, to whom such shows can speak in a more particular way. Other than those Emmy-nominated network hits, the roster of cable award contenders, like “Girls,” “Veep” and “Louie,” draw crowds that would get them canceled between the first and second commercial breaks by any broadcaster.
Echoing Lee, Fox counterpart Kevin Reilly discussed the need for new shows to make noise in order to get noticed. But comedies generally struggle to conjure the kind of noise-making concepts that dramas or reality shows can, which is why new sitcoms have traditionally relied on an existing hit to help lead people into the tent. “Strong lead-ins still matter,” CBS entertainment president Nina Tassler says.
In success, of course, there’s still nothing quite so lucrative as a wildly popular comedy — and even in this day and age, “Big Bang” is a supernova of profits for Warner Bros. Television.
Amid the din of channels crying for attention, however, the sound emanating from such hits, along with the experience of widely shared laughter, looks to be slowly but steadily fading. And if that trend can’t be reversed, sitcoms as a genre could really be the biggest loser.
Etichette:
Brian Lowry,
Brooklyn Nine-Nine,
Community,
Enlisted,
Girls,
L'EDICOLA DI LOU,
Louie,
Modern Family,
NEWS,
Parks and Recreation,
The Big Bang Theory,
The Blacklist,
The Crazy Ones,
Veep
giovedì 24 aprile 2014
mercoledì 2 aprile 2014
L'EDICOLA DI LOU - Stralci, cover e commenti sui telefilm dai media italiani e stranieri
THE ATLANTIC
Ecco cosa ci mancherà di più di "HIMYM"
How I Met Your Mother's title sequence starts with a picture of Lily Aldrin (Alyson Hannigan) holding a disposable camera, one of those antiquated device that impoverished college students and struggling yuppies used to record memories during the early 2000s.
It’s a charmingly dated image—what 20-something would bring a disposable camera to a bar in the iPhone era? But that datedness actually fits the show perfectly. HIMYM, which will end on Monday after nine seasons on CBS, has been the old soul of network comedy for the past decade, and that’s why it’s so beloved—even if critics often scoffed at it.
Since 2005, the year HIMYM premiered, sitcoms have gotten pretty innovative. 30 Rock infused the format with unprecedented levels of snarky dialogue and clever satire. Single-camera shows like The Office and Modern Family introduced new stylistic sensibilities and satirized reality TV tropes. Non-network comedies like Louie and Girls used stark realism to achieve biting poignancy.
Viewed alongside these creative breakthroughs, the multi-camera, laugh-tracked comedy of HIMYM often seemed like a throwback to the Cheers era. Or, even more specifically, it often seemed like a faster-paced version of Friends. The premise, after all, is awfully similar: Five young New Yorkers spend an inordinate amount of time in a neighborhood bar (rather than a neighborhood coffeehouse), enjoy sleeping with one another, and engage in various shenanigans as they navigate the space between adolescence and adulthood. The primary difference between the two shows is that while Friends usually attempted to suppress the cheesier aspects of its plot, HIMYM has always been unapologetically sentimental. From its title to its overarching narrative, HIMYM offered a schmaltzy celebration of a hapless romantic and the four friends who endlessly support him in his quest to find Mrs. Right.
This was true from the inception. In the pilot episode, protagonist Ted Mosby (Josh Radnor) comes to the realization that he’s not good at being single. He would rather settle down and become the head of a household, a role that he thinks will suit his dorky-dad-like qualities and his desire for the quiet life. And while ensuing seasons demonstrate that Ted is not quite as father-ready as he assumes himself to be—his character could be described as someone who really wants to be wiser than his years but isn’t quite there yet—this overt yearning to get past singledom forms the show’s thematic base.
At a time when Americans are increasingly getting hitched at later ages or avoiding nuptials altogether, the idea of an attractive 20-something living in one of the world’s most vibrant metropolises and wanting nothing more than to settle down with a wife and kids feels hopelessly old-fashioned. Yet HIMYM found nuance in the way people can still pursue a traditional vision of happiness.
The point of the show never lay in the exact machinations which led Ted to “the mother.” It lay in the events that shaped Ted into husband-worthy material. Before he could truly evolve into the dad who narrates the show, he had to learn from a slew of bad relationships with women he had little in common with, let the devastation of heartbreak mellow his overzealous soul, and stop confusing his close friendship with Robin for something more.
The writers made the sentimentality of that conceit bearable by pairing it with ridiculous, manic, and entertaining side plots: Robin Scherbatsky (Cobie Smulders) spent her youth in Canada as a Tiffanyesque teen pop star; Ted’s middle-school-classmate-turned-porn-star uses the alias Ted Mosby; Barney Stinson does Barney Stinson-esque things.
The cast helped nail that delicate balance between sweetness and silliness. Segel brought real quirk to Marshall, a role that could have devolved into a something more conventional and less enjoyable to watch—something akin to Ross on Friends. And as Barney, whose horniness coexists with a desperate desire for meaningful friendships, Neil Patrick Harris created one of television comedy’s most indelible characters. In a subversive twist, Barney’s predilections (a love of tailored clothes and expensive drinks) and deficiencies (the inability to drive or use simple household tools like a hammer) clashed with the stereotypical masculinity he so desperately strived to project. Josh Radnor, Cobie Smulders, and Alyson Hannigan provided lively presences for Segel and Harris to play off.
Though HIMYM featured smarter writing and better acting than most sitcoms, it never received much critical attention. In nine seasons, the show earned only a single Emmy nomination for Outstanding Comedy Series; for the sake of comparison, Friends received six such nominations and garnered one win in that category. Since 2005, critics and awards voters have been too busy praising shows like 30 Rock and Modern Family to notice the exceptional work of Carter Bays and Craig Thomas, HIMYM’s co-creators, and the actors who have come to embody the five beloved characters. This is unfortunate. While HIMYM has certainly had creative lulls during its nine-season run, the show’s best episodes—“Ten Sessions,” “Hopeless,” “P.S. I Love You”—were as funny and touching as any produced by contemporary sitcoms.
Perhaps HIMYM’s sentimentality is what prevented it from engendering more highbrow cred. Most cutting-edge television comedies today feature characters that the audience is meant to laugh at, rather than with. We chortle at the small-town yokels on Parks and Recreation and look forward to the weekly embarrassment of Phil Dunphy on Modern Family. Those sitcoms, while funny and creative, radiate a sly sense of superiority, since many of the laughs come from the humiliation of sad sacks.
This was never the case on HIMYM, whose unstated but understood mantra was “we’re all in this together.” Because the writers went to great lengths to humanize the principal characters—to imbue them with real ambitions, fears and shortcomings, and to put them in situations where they needed one another to pull through—they presented people with whom the audience was meant to empathize rather than mock. The best seasons revolved around friends helping coming together to resolve personal conflict: Lily and Marshall reconcile after a foolish break-up; Ted and Robin overcome the awkwardness of a past relationship; Barney connects with the father who walked out on him. It was a feel-good story about the importance of friendship and love. The earnestness of that tale can come across as maudlin nowadays, but it’s a characteristic that the current popular television landscape will be left without once HIMYM signs off forever.
(Kevin Craft, 28.03.2014)
THE ATLANTICEcco cosa ci mancherà di più di "HIMYM"
How I Met Your Mother's title sequence starts with a picture of Lily Aldrin (Alyson Hannigan) holding a disposable camera, one of those antiquated device that impoverished college students and struggling yuppies used to record memories during the early 2000s.
It’s a charmingly dated image—what 20-something would bring a disposable camera to a bar in the iPhone era? But that datedness actually fits the show perfectly. HIMYM, which will end on Monday after nine seasons on CBS, has been the old soul of network comedy for the past decade, and that’s why it’s so beloved—even if critics often scoffed at it.
Since 2005, the year HIMYM premiered, sitcoms have gotten pretty innovative. 30 Rock infused the format with unprecedented levels of snarky dialogue and clever satire. Single-camera shows like The Office and Modern Family introduced new stylistic sensibilities and satirized reality TV tropes. Non-network comedies like Louie and Girls used stark realism to achieve biting poignancy.
Viewed alongside these creative breakthroughs, the multi-camera, laugh-tracked comedy of HIMYM often seemed like a throwback to the Cheers era. Or, even more specifically, it often seemed like a faster-paced version of Friends. The premise, after all, is awfully similar: Five young New Yorkers spend an inordinate amount of time in a neighborhood bar (rather than a neighborhood coffeehouse), enjoy sleeping with one another, and engage in various shenanigans as they navigate the space between adolescence and adulthood. The primary difference between the two shows is that while Friends usually attempted to suppress the cheesier aspects of its plot, HIMYM has always been unapologetically sentimental. From its title to its overarching narrative, HIMYM offered a schmaltzy celebration of a hapless romantic and the four friends who endlessly support him in his quest to find Mrs. Right.
This was true from the inception. In the pilot episode, protagonist Ted Mosby (Josh Radnor) comes to the realization that he’s not good at being single. He would rather settle down and become the head of a household, a role that he thinks will suit his dorky-dad-like qualities and his desire for the quiet life. And while ensuing seasons demonstrate that Ted is not quite as father-ready as he assumes himself to be—his character could be described as someone who really wants to be wiser than his years but isn’t quite there yet—this overt yearning to get past singledom forms the show’s thematic base.
At a time when Americans are increasingly getting hitched at later ages or avoiding nuptials altogether, the idea of an attractive 20-something living in one of the world’s most vibrant metropolises and wanting nothing more than to settle down with a wife and kids feels hopelessly old-fashioned. Yet HIMYM found nuance in the way people can still pursue a traditional vision of happiness.
The point of the show never lay in the exact machinations which led Ted to “the mother.” It lay in the events that shaped Ted into husband-worthy material. Before he could truly evolve into the dad who narrates the show, he had to learn from a slew of bad relationships with women he had little in common with, let the devastation of heartbreak mellow his overzealous soul, and stop confusing his close friendship with Robin for something more.
The writers made the sentimentality of that conceit bearable by pairing it with ridiculous, manic, and entertaining side plots: Robin Scherbatsky (Cobie Smulders) spent her youth in Canada as a Tiffanyesque teen pop star; Ted’s middle-school-classmate-turned-porn-star uses the alias Ted Mosby; Barney Stinson does Barney Stinson-esque things.
The cast helped nail that delicate balance between sweetness and silliness. Segel brought real quirk to Marshall, a role that could have devolved into a something more conventional and less enjoyable to watch—something akin to Ross on Friends. And as Barney, whose horniness coexists with a desperate desire for meaningful friendships, Neil Patrick Harris created one of television comedy’s most indelible characters. In a subversive twist, Barney’s predilections (a love of tailored clothes and expensive drinks) and deficiencies (the inability to drive or use simple household tools like a hammer) clashed with the stereotypical masculinity he so desperately strived to project. Josh Radnor, Cobie Smulders, and Alyson Hannigan provided lively presences for Segel and Harris to play off.
Though HIMYM featured smarter writing and better acting than most sitcoms, it never received much critical attention. In nine seasons, the show earned only a single Emmy nomination for Outstanding Comedy Series; for the sake of comparison, Friends received six such nominations and garnered one win in that category. Since 2005, critics and awards voters have been too busy praising shows like 30 Rock and Modern Family to notice the exceptional work of Carter Bays and Craig Thomas, HIMYM’s co-creators, and the actors who have come to embody the five beloved characters. This is unfortunate. While HIMYM has certainly had creative lulls during its nine-season run, the show’s best episodes—“Ten Sessions,” “Hopeless,” “P.S. I Love You”—were as funny and touching as any produced by contemporary sitcoms.
Perhaps HIMYM’s sentimentality is what prevented it from engendering more highbrow cred. Most cutting-edge television comedies today feature characters that the audience is meant to laugh at, rather than with. We chortle at the small-town yokels on Parks and Recreation and look forward to the weekly embarrassment of Phil Dunphy on Modern Family. Those sitcoms, while funny and creative, radiate a sly sense of superiority, since many of the laughs come from the humiliation of sad sacks.
This was never the case on HIMYM, whose unstated but understood mantra was “we’re all in this together.” Because the writers went to great lengths to humanize the principal characters—to imbue them with real ambitions, fears and shortcomings, and to put them in situations where they needed one another to pull through—they presented people with whom the audience was meant to empathize rather than mock. The best seasons revolved around friends helping coming together to resolve personal conflict: Lily and Marshall reconcile after a foolish break-up; Ted and Robin overcome the awkwardness of a past relationship; Barney connects with the father who walked out on him. It was a feel-good story about the importance of friendship and love. The earnestness of that tale can come across as maudlin nowadays, but it’s a characteristic that the current popular television landscape will be left without once HIMYM signs off forever.
(Kevin Craft, 28.03.2014)
Etichette:
30 Rock,
addii,
Allyson Hannigan,
Cobie Smulders,
E alla fine arriva mamma,
Friends,
Girls,
How I Met Your Mother,
L'EDICOLA DI LOU,
Louie,
Modern Family,
Neil Patrick Harris,
The Office
lunedì 4 novembre 2013
NEWS - Guerra totale! Non solo Netflix: FX, TNT e Turner nel ring della tv di domani (anzi, di oggi ormai...), dove gli ascolti non saranno più diktat (eureka!)
Articolo tratto da "Vulture"
Articolo tratto da "Vulture"
Let’s say that your friends have become increasingly obsessed
with a new TV show that’s already on episode eleven of a
thirteen-episode season. You finally realize that you are missing out on
something great and want to quickly catch up in time for the finale …
but you’re out of luck. Most networks only have rights to stream the
last five episodes of their series on their websites and VOD, and
Netflix usually doesn’t post the whole season until a few weeks before
the next season begins. But Vulture has learned that a couple of cable’s
biggest programming powerhouses, FX and Turner, are fighting back on
this industry standard, telling TV studios that they will not buy any
new show unless it comes with the right to keep streaming every episode
in a current season until it ends. Netflix has made its position on the
issue clear: If studios give into these demands, the service could
dramatically cut the price it pays for streaming rights, potentially
denying producers millions of dollars in revenue. A battle of the binge
is brewing.
Before getting into the clash, a quick lesson is in order for how
streaming has changed the traditional economics of TV production. When a
network picks up a show, it doesn’t own it; it essentially leases the
episodes of a season for a pre-determined window (usually one year) from
the studios that make them. Because the networks are renting and not
buying, they usually pay around 60 percent of production costs and make
their money back (and, presumably, a profit) by selling ad time. Studios
try to recoup their 40 percent outlay via international sales or
syndicating reruns. But in recent years, both sides of this financial
equation have come under attack.
At the networks, ad revenue has been squeezed by the rise of
time-shifting and other alternative means of watching shows. While
networks love to tout how many viewers are watching a show a week after
it airs (so-called "L+7" ratings), advertisers only pay for viewers who
watch commercials, and then only if they watch within three days of an
initial telecast (C3 ratings, in industry parlance). According to a
senior cable network executive, it's not unheard of for that C3 number
to be anywhere from 35 to 45 percent below the L+7. "That means we're
losing [35 to 45 percent] of our ad revenue," says the suit.
Meanwhile, studios have been feeling the pain because syndication
deals, while still a big part of their profit formula, are not nearly
as reliable or lucrative as they might have been even five years ago.
Some cable networks, like TNT, that used to rely on reruns of old
network dramas have diverted more resources to creating their own
scripted hours. And with comedy, some networks are finding it more
cost-effective to create 100 episodes of a show on the cheap (like FX's Anger Management) rather than pay big bucks for a modestly rated network sitcom.
This is where Netflix comes in. At about the same time networks
and studios were coming to grips with the respective threats to their
business models, Netflix — facing the end of some of its movie rights
deals — began a major push to add more TV series to its service,
offering to pay top dollar to studios. In 2011, it worked out a deal
with Warner Bros. TV and CBS Studios to funnel an estimated $1 billion
over several years to the studios in exchange for the right to stream
the shows they produced for the CW. The studios behind AMC's Breaking Bad and Mad Men
also struck lucrative agreements with Netflix. Netflix is now paying as
much as $750,000 per episode for top shows, a sum that can make the
difference between profit and loss for a show. "It's put pure heroin
into the veins of studio executives," a veteran industry insider tells
Vulture, adding that Netflix money "has become the de facto domestic
syndication window" for a number of shows.
For studios and Netflix, the benefits are clear: The program
suppliers have found a new, reliable source of income, while the
streaming giant gets premium content that it can use to drive
subscription growth. (It's working: This week Netflix announced it added
another 1.3 million customers over the summer, giving it more
subscribers than HBO.) Many observers argue that the hundreds of
millions Netflix is paying to acquire shows from studios is helping to
fuel a surge in original scripted programming, since the Neflix money
makes taking a chance less risky. Much has also been made about how
Netflix is good for networks, too: Ratings surges for Breaking Bad, Scandal, and other shows have been linked to late adopters getting hooked via Netflix.
But FX and Turner don't believe it's win-win-win, which is why
they want streaming and VOD rights to the entire current seasons of
their series, not just the last five episodes. The main argument: that
the incomplete set hampers a network’s chances of turning latecomers
into regular viewers in a first season. "Unless you have the whole
season up, you're not really letting viewers come into a series," our
veteran industry insider says. What's more, unlike Netflix, networks
sell unskippable advertising for their own streaming and VOD channels;
the more episodes, the more potential ad revenue, and for a longer
period. "They want people to be able to watch full episodes any time
within a season, with commercials," the insider adds. Right now,
industry execs admit the additional ad revenue doesn't amount to much.
"But this is about the future," says the senior cable executive. "It's
about finding a way to make the current system more viable as non-linear
consumption becomes more and more important."
Studios, however, are balking — at least for now — at letting
networks pile up all episodes of a season on streaming and VOD, or
“stacking,” as it's called in the industry. Studio execs say Netflix has
made it clear that it will pay significantly less for streaming rights
to stacked shows. This, even though the networks say they only want to
stack current seasons of a show for a window that wouldn't even overlap
with when Netflix takes it over. (FX, for instance, is looking to run a
season online and on VOD until 30 days after the finale.) These
executives say Netflix brass have said they believe that any expanded
online exposure of a season makes it less special when it finally goes
live with them. Last month, the streaming giant's chief content officer
Ted Sarandos all but confirmed this to The Wall Street Journal,
saying, "The less exploited shows are through on-demand services, the
more valuable they are to us." The amount Netflix penalizes producers
for stacked shows varies widely: In some cases, it might go as high as
only paying half as much as it otherwise would for a show that's been
stacked, but one person familiar with Netflix deals says that the
penalty is frequently about 20 percent per episode. That means if a
thirteen-episode unstacked drama fetches $500,000 per episode from
Netflix, a studio could lose out on $1.3 million for the season in
Netflix revenue if the network is given full-season streaming and VOD
rights. A studio exec who has previously worked on the network side was
incredulous at the FX/TNT demands: "Why would we do a show with them
when we're limiting our upside?" he says.
In conversations with studio execs, Landgraf has been very clear
about why he thinks studios need to be willing to walk away from the
extra Netflix dough: survival. The FX exec is not anti-Netflix: Many of
his shows, like Louie and Sons of Anarchy, thrive
on the service. But multiple industry sources who've heard Landgraf's
take say the FX chief believes that networks and studios need to work
together to preserve as much of the current advertiser-supported
entertainment ecosystem as possible rather than blindly chase a few
extra digital dollars. With neither Amazon nor Hulu yet able to prove an
effective streaming competitor, the fear is that Netflix is becoming
too much of a monopoly, one building its brand on the back of cable and
broadcast network programming it snapped up for a relative pittance
(compared to the millions spent to produce and market the shows). "He's
worried Ted [Sarandos, Netflix's content chief] is going to destroy the
business," a studio executive who's heard Landgraf's pitch says. Some
also suggest the networks' new tough line may be related, at least in
part, to jealousy over Netflix's sudden transformation into an original
programming player with shows such as House of Cards and Orange Is the New Black.
Landgraf and the Turner execs may not only be girding for this
fight for themselves: At least two industry executives Vulture spoke
with for this story suggested that this battle is actually being waged
on behalf of the cable and satellite companies that distribute these
networks. After all, Netflix has been seen as something of an
existential threat to the TimeWarner Cables and DirectTVs of the world
since it offers a ton of content for a fraction of their price. In
response, cable companies have been demanding networks make as much of
their content as possible available for their video on demand platforms
to entice (or hold on to) subscribers. One of the big issues in the
nasty spat between CBS and Time Warner Cable, which kept CBS and
Showtime off Time Warner systems for more than a month, was Time
Warner's desire for more on-demand content from CBS networks, as well as
limits on how the Eye sold its content to platforms like Netflix. And
earlier this year, when Fox and Comcast announced a new deal to keep
Fox's networks on the cable system, Comcast issued a press release
touting how full seasons of Fox and FX shows would now be available via
its Xfinity service. "This is all about cable companies exerting
enormous pressure on the networks … telling them, 'If you want your big
carriage fees and your increased retransmission fees, we need to be able
to offer all of your content everywhere, all the time,'" the veteran
industry insider says.
Whatever the rationale, FX and Turner's push to land stacking
rights for new series has already sunk some projects. Two sources
familiar with the situation say that Turner's TNT and TBS "have walked
away" from pilot deals because of differences over VOD. Likewise, I hear
from two industry sources that FX has lost out on at least one
potential pilot deal because of stacking demands, while another project
is currently in limbo while FX and executives at the studio involved try
to see if a compromise is possible. One studio executive, however,
insisted to Vulture that FX will not be able to get stacking rights
unless it agrees to make up for any lost Netflix revenue: "None of the
big studios is going to go for this … they're going to have to pay for
stacking if they want it," he says.
In the short term, all of the skirmishing among studios,
networks, and Netflix probably won't have a negative impact on viewers,
and might even have an upside. Viewers who don't subscribe to Netflix or
don't want to wait until a series lands on the service may have more,
and cheaper, viewing options to catch up. But it's also easy to see
these battles playing out in a way that harms consumers. If, as Landgraf
argues, Netflix poses a threat to the status quo, we could be headed
toward a world where annoying advertisements are replaced by higher
cable and broadband bills. Or perhaps the anger FX and TNT feel toward
Netflix's strategy leads to networks and studios trying to weaken
Netflix by putting more of their content on Amazon, Hulu Plus, or some
as-yet-developed platform. It's also possible that all parties involved
will come up with a way to make sense of TV's brave new world, and
traditional networks and streaming services such as Netflix will come to
the conclusion they can coexist while still making millions and
millions of dollars every year. "There will be a solution," says the
veteran executive who compared Netflix's money to heroin. "Just not
today."
mercoledì 21 agosto 2013
L'EDICOLA DI LOU - Stralci, cover e commenti sui telefilm dai media italiani e stranieriVULTURE
Gli Emmy Awards hanno già decretato un vincitore: Netflix
"Showbiz bible Variety led its first take on today's Emmy nominations with the fact that Netflix had scored a historic breakthrough, and this is as it should be. This is a milestone, one that will almost certainly be cited by historians when chronicling the collapse of linear television about, oh, seven years from now. By ignoring how House of Cards and Arrested Development and Hemlock Grove got to viewers, and instead focusing on the content of those three sMad Men); the Best Comedy nod for Louie (the first time a basic cable network has squeezed into this category); and the inclusion of Yahoo and Funny or Die in a short-form category, which also includes the Super Bowl halftime show and Adult Swim's Childrens Hospital. "What this shows is that disruption can come from anywhere in our business," Sundance Channel chief Sarah Barnett told Vulture. "It can come from the nature of the platform or from a small network you wouldn't have expected to be a contender. In the end, great content wins out."
hows, Emmy voters demonstrated, and admirably so, that they're platform agnostic. Academy members proved this with other nominations as well: the ten nods dished out to Sundance Channel (a network even more obscure than its sister station AMC, pre–
Barnett is right, of course: Today's nominations are a nice
demonstration of progressiveness from a voting bloc that, just a decade
ago, somehow failed to award a single nomination to The Wire, a
series considered by many to be TV's greatest ever. And yet, look more
closely at most of the "breakthrough" nominations revealed today, and
something else quickly becomes clear: Emmy voters may be okay with
alternative distribution methods, but they're still very much in love
with Big Names. Star power remains Emmy's everything.
It takes nothing away from Netflix or House of Cards to
point out that its biggest nominations were for people who have been
nominated for (or have won) Oscars and Golden Globes: Kevin Spacey,
Robin Wright, and David Fincher. Sure, it's historic that their
nominations were for a show which didn't air on a "network," but it is
otherwise not at all surprising that these very well-known talents woke
up to good news this morning. It is equally not a shock that the
lesser-known actor Corey Stoll, who delivered House of Cards's
most unexpected and searing performance, was overlooked. But Emmy's
obsession with well-known names played out in other arenas as well:
• Sundance's Top of the Lake is certainly deserving of the Emmy love it got, but so was the network's Rectify, which
got almost identical critical acclaim. The difference between the two:
One starred Emmy vet Elisabeth Moss and was co-written by Oscar winner
Jane Campion, and the other hailed from relative unknowns. (The good
news for Barnett: Rectify will make it on many critics' year-end
lists of best shows, and the fact that it's even being discussed as a
"snub" is victory of itself, given how relatively small Sundance is.)
• Tatiana Maslany, star of BBC America's Orphan Black, had
the backing of every single person on Twitter and countless critics.
Anyone who's stunned that the Canadian actress didn't get a nominated
today hasn't been paying attention to Emmys.
• Those nominations for Yahoo and Funny or Die in the short-form
programming category sound less impressive when you see who's attached
to them: Ben Stiller (for Burning Love) and Zach Galifianakis (Behind Two Ferns). The nonfiction counterpart of the same category is equally dominated by stars, including Jerry Seinfeld and Jay Leno.
• Comedy Central has had a great year reinventing sketch comedy with shows such as Key & Peele, Inside Amy Schumer, and Nathan For You. Did any of them displace long-in-the-tooth veterans Stewart, Colbert, Maher, or SNL in the variety categories? Of course not, because none of the people on those shows is currently a star. (Portlandia is nominated, but it co-stars SNL veteran Fred Armisen and is executive produced by Lorne Michaels.)
• Political Animals scored five nominations, and for those
of us who really liked the show's soapy shenanigans, that's nice. But
let's not pretend that the presence of Hollywood icons Sigourney Weaver
and Ellyn Burstyn didn't make all the difference. While it helped that
the miniseries category is less crowded than drama, there are lots of
talented actors on Scandal who didn't get nominated because,
unlike the amazing Kerry Washington (who deservedly did get recognized),
those actors just aren't very well-known.
This year's Emmy star fetish is nothing new, but, to the
Academy's credit, neither is it absolute. Academy members absolutely do
step up to reward performers and writers who are unknown; Mad Men alone is proof of how unknown actors and first-time showrunners can become overnight Emmy sensations. Glee and Modern Family also broke through instantly, and last year, some dude named Max Greenfield was nominated for comedy acting in New Girl
(sadly, he was overlooked today). But here's a troubling thought (and
it's just a thought, not a prediction): With so many more outlets now
doing really good TV, and with Netflix opening the doors to even more
platforms for good content, what if it becomes harder than ever for
amazing TV performances to tally enough votes to get nominated? "It's
such a cluttered marketplace," one Hollywood insider notes. "What really
cuts through in terms of the Academy, what gives you a leg up is if
your talent has some sort of profile or recognition. It's naive to think
otherwise."
There's nothing wrong with big stars or high-profile writers
racking up nominations, of course — particularly when the finished
product is as good as Top of the Lake or House of Cards.
And networks such as FX and Sundance and Comedy Central will continue to
make highly watchable, groundbreaking shows, and those networks will
continue to thrive, whether their wares get Emmy's blessing or not.
What's more, it's important to remember that often it just takes time
for Emmy voters to come around to a show or an actor. Be bummed, as we
are, about the shut-out of The Americans or the criminal neglect
of Tatiana Maslany, but then remember this: While Louis C.K. got
nominated the first year he was eligible, Louie was kept out of
the Best Comedy category for three years. Today, as writer Noah Hawley
tweeted, Louis C.K. snagged seven total Emmy nominations for an
"existential comedic experiment. Moral: You thought there were rules?
There [are] no rules." Well, except maybe one: It's still a whole lot
easier to get an Emmy nomination if everybody already knows your name".
(Josef Adalian)
(Josef Adalian)
Etichette:
Arrested Development,
Glee,
House of Cards,
L'EDICOLA DI LOU,
Louie,
Mad Men,
Modern Family,
New Girl,
Orphan Black,
Portlandia,
The Americans,
The Wire
martedì 29 gennaio 2013
NEWS - Per "Entertainment Weekly" la serie dell'anno è...
Numero annuale da collezione di "Entertainment Weekly" sui Best&Worst 2012. Per il piccolo schermo, la Top20 firmata dal critico Ken Tucker è stata così stilata.
1. Homeland
2. Breaking Bad
3. Louie
4. Girls
5. Mad Men
6. The Colbert Report
7. Parks and Recreation
8. Justified
9. The Good Wife
10. Nashville
11. Parenthood
12. Luck
13. Fringe
14. Sons of Anarchy
15. Archer
16. The Walking Dead
17. Southland
18. Hunted
19. NY Med
20. Bent
Numero annuale da collezione di "Entertainment Weekly" sui Best&Worst 2012. Per il piccolo schermo, la Top20 firmata dal critico Ken Tucker è stata così stilata.
1. Homeland
2. Breaking Bad
3. Louie
4. Girls
5. Mad Men
6. The Colbert Report
7. Parks and Recreation
8. Justified
9. The Good Wife
10. Nashville
11. Parenthood
12. Luck
13. Fringe
14. Sons of Anarchy
15. Archer
16. The Walking Dead
17. Southland
18. Hunted
19. NY Med
20. Bent
Etichette:
Breaking Bad,
Girls,
Homeland,
Hunted,
Justified,
Louie,
Luck,
Mad Men,
Nashville,
NEWS,
Parenthood,
Parks and Recreation,
Southland,
The Good Wife,
The Walking Dead
lunedì 8 ottobre 2012
L'EDICOLA DI LOU - Stralci e commenti sui telefilm dai media italiani e stranieri
RIVISTA STUDIO
Ecco perchè "Louie" cambierà la tv
"Louie è una serie americana che va in onda su FX, scritta, diretta e interpretata da quello che è considerato il miglior stand up comedian vivente, Louis C.K. La scorsa settimana si è conclusa la terza acclamatissima stagione dello show, ed è quindi giunto il momento di fermarsi e parlarne un po’. Partiamo da un argomento – argomento che svelerà tutta la mia bias sulla questione, ma comunque -: Louie è un capolavoro. C’è chi lo ha visto ed è rimastosenza parole se non di stupore ed elogio; c’è chi si è spinto oltre, come Todd VanDerWerff su A.V. Club, che considera la portata della serie paragonabile – in termine di qualità e influenza artistica – a quella che i Sopranos hanno avuto nel nuovo millennio. Un articolo, quest’ultimo, che per quanto sostenga una tesi scottante e blasfema per un pubblico affezionato a Tony & Co., squarcia il velo di Maya su una separazione che sta perdendo sempre più senso, quella tra drama e comedy.
RIVISTA STUDIO
Ecco perchè "Louie" cambierà la tv
"Louie è una serie americana che va in onda su FX, scritta, diretta e interpretata da quello che è considerato il miglior stand up comedian vivente, Louis C.K. La scorsa settimana si è conclusa la terza acclamatissima stagione dello show, ed è quindi giunto il momento di fermarsi e parlarne un po’. Partiamo da un argomento – argomento che svelerà tutta la mia bias sulla questione, ma comunque -: Louie è un capolavoro. C’è chi lo ha visto ed è rimastosenza parole se non di stupore ed elogio; c’è chi si è spinto oltre, come Todd VanDerWerff su A.V. Club, che considera la portata della serie paragonabile – in termine di qualità e influenza artistica – a quella che i Sopranos hanno avuto nel nuovo millennio. Un articolo, quest’ultimo, che per quanto sostenga una tesi scottante e blasfema per un pubblico affezionato a Tony & Co., squarcia il velo di Maya su una separazione che sta perdendo sempre più senso, quella tra drama e comedy.
Drama e comedy sono i due mostruosi buchi neri a cui Hollywood e la televisione girano attorno: sono due macrogeneri complessissimi, zeppi di galassie e ulteriori buchi neri, che hanno la stessa funzione di Mosé sul Mar Rosso: separare acque e mettere ordine. Così, tutti i prodotti vengono sistemati su due grandi scaffali – drama e comedy – in modo che lo spettatore possa scegliere da quale pescare, chiedendosi se abbia voglia di ridere o di “cose serie”. Negli ultimi anni però si è assistito alla sofisticazione del reparto drama: prima la Hbo con show come The Wire, Deadwood e i citati Sopranos; e poi, a cascata, altri network come Amc (Mad Men, Breaking Bad), hanno allestito un separè tra i prodotti complessi, d’enorme qualità, dalla scrittura incredibile e lo storytelling funambolico, e altri show in cui a trionfare è la complessità della trama e la suspense – come le incredibili cose firmate J.J. Abrams (Lost, Fringe) e 24.
Mentre la primavera sbocciava nella drama, il settore comedy viveva ancora la pace dei sensi data dal Grande Muro Dei Due Generi, e al massimo ci si arrovellava con le solite distinzioni tra comicità “alta” e “bassa”. Se da una parte il The Office inglese e successi come Curb Your Enthusiasm hanno alzato l’asticella qualitativa di parecchie tacche, dall’altra è mancato un prodotto shock in grado di far tremare le fondamenta dell’incerto duopolio drama-comedy, rivelandone l’inadeguatezza. Per tutti questi anni non sono mancati spettacoli di qualità: anzi, gioielli come East Bound and Down, Parks and Recreation, Community (specie la terza incredibile stagione) hanno reso gli ultimi anni indimenticabili. È mancato però all’appello il momento-Gesù Cristo, in grado di fissare un prima e un dopo. Forse per la natura insita della comicità – che è fatta di rimandi, modelli, parodie e richiami spesso criptici ad altri autori e opere (per ulteriori informazioni citofonare Luttazzi) – le sit com hanno sempre seguito sentieri preesistenti. L’unica eccezione, Seinfeld, risale a decenni fa ed è a sua volta diventato modello, format.
Ma vediamo alcuni di questi filoni comici: tra i più comuni nella scrittura comica “alta”, c’è quello del mockumentary, in cui i protagonisti sanno di essere ripresi da una troupe e parlano in camera (The Office e praticamente tutto Ricky Gervais,Curb Your Enthusiasm, Parks and Rec); il modello post-Seinfeld in cui la sit com tradizionale è rivista con humour più sofisticato; e un altro filone seinfeldiano: quello che racconta in prima persona la vita di un comico. E qui si parla in realtà di un’intersezione di format, che tocca Seinfeld, per l’appunto, Curb Your Enthusiasme arriva a Louie.
Louie è infatti la storia di un comico, Louis C.K., divorziato con due bambine. Proprio come in Seinfeld, i suoi episodi vengono intervallati da spezzoni di stand up che spesso seguono il tema portante della puntata. (Da notare che la vita da comico di strada e i relativi spezzoni live si sono diradati col procedere della storia, per scomparire nella terza stagione dopo l’episodio “Miami”). Si potrebbe quindi concludere che anche lo show di C.K., per quanto atipico, sia ascrivibile alla tradizione iniziata dal capolavoro di Jerry Seinfeld e Larry David. Però non è così semplice: Louie è un affare dalla forma troppo strana, inedita, per calzare a pennello nello scatolone della comedy e lì riposare per sempre. Per esempio, se mi domandaste (è un’opinione personale ma penso piuttosto diffusa) perché guardo e amo la serie di C.K., non me la sentirei di rispondere: “Perché fa ridere”. Louie non fa ridere. E non è nemmeno una sit com. Della sit com ha solo la durata delle puntata (circa 20 minuti). Nient’altro. E non perché gioca a fare l’anti-sit com: no, sarebbe troppo facile, già fatto (anche dallo stesso Louis C.K., con Lucky Louie). La spiegazione è più profonda e porta il prodotto a galleggiare nel vuoto che dovrebbe esserci al di fuori degli universi drama e comedy (vuoto che ovviamente non è tale e aspetta solo di essere esplorato). Alcuni momenti della serie sono tragici, profondi e in molti casi toccano le corde del drama con una classe che non ha molto da invidiare a un gioiello come Mad Men. E ciò nonostante, riesce a mantenersi irreale: nella finzione, per esempio, il protagonista ha un fratello nella prima stagione che scompare nella seconda per far posto a un paio di sorelle che durano appena una scena per poi sparire per sempre; ha anche una madre, che è stata portata in scena da due attrici diverse (una di queste aveva coperto anche il ruolo di un suo flirtqualche puntata prima, senza per questo costringerci a tirare fuori tutto Freud). Irreale e folle. E, allo stesso tempo, reale (e se a questo punto state dicendo: “D’accordo, però deciditi!”, è proprio questo il punto: non lo si può fare). Reale perché i macrotemi sono quelli dei grandi classici e della vita di tutti i giorni – l’amore, l’amicizia, l’ambizione, il lavoro ecc. E perché a parlare sono sempre esseri umani piuttosto credibili, solo inzuppati in un contesto ironico, tra il nonsense, la risata verde, il grottesco e la pura follia inquietante.
Anche gli strumenti comici sono quelli tradizionali, anche se declinati in modo nuovo. Dal vecchio baule del comico, C.K. tira fuori il sesso, l’ironia della vita di tutti i giorni, il corpo esposto, la merda e la piscia (in una puntata recente si vede un bambino che mangia carne cruda, si fa un bagno e ha un attacco di diarrea nella vasca). E poi c’è la prima persona singolare che riempie ogni fotogramma dello spettacolo: non c’è una scena in cui non compaia l’attore – gira tutto attorno a lui, come se la troupe di The Office si fosse fatta minuscola, invisibile e bastardissima – e non manca un bel po’ d’egocentrismo, specie nelle scene familiari (quando è con le sue bambine, le due molle che tengono in costante movimento quest’omone in sovrappeso) o para-sessuali (momenti, questi, in cui si scivola talvolta nell’autocommiserazione gratuita). Mancano completamente i grandi classici della sit com: il giro d’amici fisso, la casa come scena principale, il vicino di casa un po’ pazzerello che entra ed esce a suo piacimento (Cosmo Cramer di Seinfeld, che tra gli altri aveva già ispirato il personaggio di Uncle Jerry in Lucky Louie). C’è solo lui, Louis C.K – o una sua versione più o meno autobiografica. Il resto del mondo è fatto di satelliti orbitanti, presenze vaghe e lontane, figlie da dividere con un’ex moglie inspiegabilmente afroamericana, vicini di casa che fumano bong meccanici. Il protagonista è un uomo solo e triste, la cui vita privata è a pezzi e quella professionale arranca tra indecisioni, grandi occasioni e David Lynch. Il cui rapporto con le donne e il padre nasconde un pozzo senza fondo di paure, odio e amore. Parliamo di un uomo senza un perché, profondamente triste nonostante il suo lavoro sia far ridere, la cui unica ragione di vita è essere per le sue bambine un padre migliore di quello che ha avuto.
Al di là del grande successo di critica e i buoni risultati di pubblico, la serie di C.K. potrebbe finire per costruire il primo tunnel a collegare i due colossi dell’intrattenimento, drama e comedy, chimere con cui continuiamo e ripeterci che la vita sia amara oppure divertente, e non un miscuglio continuo, frenetico e inquietante delle due cose – e molto altro. Louie è lo show più triste, maturo e serio del mondo. Per questo fa così ridere".
(Pietro Minto, 05.10.2012)
(Pietro Minto, 05.10.2012)
Etichette:
24,
Breaking Bad,
Community,
David Lynch,
Deadwood,
Fringe,
I Soprano,
J.J. Abrams,
L'EDICOLA DI LOU,
Lost,
Louie,
Louis CK,
Mad Men,
Parks and Recreation,
Seinfeld,
The Wire
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