When I was a teenager, I discovered Georges Simenon’s delightful Maigret book series. Maigret was an ordinary man, refreshingly devoid of the quirks, tortured backstory, and “chosen one” vibe that many fictional detectives have. I honestly don’t remember which Maigret stories I read–I just remember enjoying them, so much so that I still cite them as favorites. They remind me a bit of Nordic Noir but with a decidedly less dour tone.
I’m usually behind on the most current television. Because I don’t have cable, I have to wait for the DVDs or until something hits a streaming service, and that’s not something that ordinarily troubles me. But every now and then, a show premieres, and I am bitterly disappointed that I am behind everyone else. That was definitely the case with AMC’s recent miniseries The Terror. I’ve been so excited for this show ever since casting was first announced a couple of years ago. Just ask Julie. I’ve been preemptively pestering her about buying it ever since. 🙂
And now it’s here! And it’s just as excellent as I had hoped it would be! (Thank you, Julie, for not only buying it but also good-naturedly humoring my repeated purchase requests.)
Agatha Christie’s best-known novel And Then There Was None is one of the 100 books that made the Great American Read list. And that seems like the perfect excuse to review the most recent adaptation of the book, this one an all-star production made for British television a couple of years ago.
Continue reading “TV Review: And Then There Were None (2016)”
If you have a Netflix account, it is probably old news that the streaming service’s original series The Crown, about the early reign of the United Kingdom’s Elizabeth II, is superb. But if you don’t have a Netflix account, you had no way to watch it until quite recently, when it was released on DVD.
English royalty has always been a popular subject for entertainment and has been the focus of several recently acclaimed shows, including Wolf Hall and Victoria. Though I have enjoyed the other shows mentioned, I’m not sure any other television show I have watched has delved into the complexities of imperial protocol and how one’s royal persona must overshadow any personal one quite like The Crown does.
Did you know that when you’re in the mood for a good view, your library also has you covered! And if you need help finding something new and interesting to watch, I am here to help . . . at least once a month when I review a TV show or movie on this blog.
One of the great joys in watching television shows about dysfunctional families is enjoying their antics without personally having to deal with the repercussions. They’re fun to hang out with for a few hours at a time, but there is also something immensely reassuring in knowing that you don’t have to deal with these characters in real life.
And that is exactly the appeal of two British imports I recently watched and enjoyed–The Durrells in Corfu and Blandings. Both are about zany British families in 1920s/1930s, and both are delightfully charming and hilarious. Thanks so much to Julie for adding them both to the library collection!
When it comes to being a world builder, it doesn’t get much bigger than having an entire historical period named after you.
But when eighteen year old Alexandrina Victoria ascended to the British throne following her uncle’s death, nobody was really thinking of her future reign in such grand terms. For the most part, they were just hoping she didn’t do anything too obviously embarrassing.
Victoria’s growing pains as a young monarch in the tumultuous first couple of years of her reign is explored in a recent novel and TV series from Daisy Goodwin.
My love for Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood (which some ungenerous souls might call an obsession) has been well documented on this blog.
But my interest in the story transcends the book. The 1967 film adaptation is one of my favorite movies and is one of the examples I always point to when people claim that a movie can never be as good as the book.
A few months ago, I watched the 1996 miniseries adaptation of the story with my coworker Jen. If the 1967 version is one of the best adaptations I’ve ever seen, the 1996 version is easily one of the absolute worst.
Usually the “From Page to Screen” series is a venue for me to compare and contrast books with their adaptations. But this is my series and my rules, and I’ve decided to bend the rules for this one. So, this month we’re comparing and contrasting two adaptations and exploring why one is considered a masterpiece and the other, well, isn’t. Let’s just call it Screen vs. Screen for this month.
Continue reading “From Page to Screen: In Cold Blood (1967) and In Cold Blood (1996)”
The fight is real . . . at least for Walt Longmire. As sheriff of Absaroka County, Wyoming, Walt never has a dull day as he works to solve crimes, contend with family, friends, coworkers, and confront the personal demons that have haunted him since the death of his wife.
Craig Johnson’s sheriff is the focus of a series of a books, as well as a popular television series. I have had numerous people recommend the books and the TV show to me, so comparing the first entries in both seemed perfect for our next “From Page to Screen” feature.
This is what happens when a review is 13 years in the making. You’ll understand when you’ve read to the end!
Those of you who have been reading this blog for some time–or, for that matter, those of you who know me in person–probably realized pretty quickly that I have some odd hang-ups when it comes to pop culture. I prefer to think of them as eccentric, but really, that’s just to make me feel better about myself.
One I don’t think I have chatted about on here is my tendency to delay reading or watching something that I suspect I will like simply because I fear being disappointed by it.
So, instead of eagerly trying something that I am excited about like, I don’t know, a normal human being, I will procrastinate about it. And I’m not talking about a matter of days or weeks or months. I mean putting it off for years.
Such was my experiences with Deadwood, the 2004-2006 HBO show about the rough mining camp of Deadwood, South Dakota during its heyday in the 1870s. I first read about the show when it was airing. I was a teenager without access to HBO, but my curiosity was piqued. I love history, and as we established a couple of weeks ago, I also really like Westerns.
I’m also a big fan of several of the character actors in the cast, so knowing that there was a show that brought together the likes of Powers Boothe, Keith Carradine, Garret Dillahunt, Ray McKinnon, William Sanderson, Brian Cox, Zach Grenier, and Leon Rippy just made me ridiculously happy.
After I started working at the library, every time someone would check it out or return it, I’d think, “Oh yeah! I’ve wanted to watch that since I was a teenager. I should put that on hold.”
I also would stumble across discussions about it on pop culture websites, and I was always intrigued by the nostalgic tone its fans adopted when talking about. After reading any article and comment section devoted to Deadwood, I’d think to myself, “I really need to watch that show.”
But I kept putting it off and delaying because I also read about how the show was cancelled suddenly and doesn’t have a proper ending. I didn’t want to devote hours to something that would disappoint me.
I also secretly feared that I wouldn’t even like the earlier seasons before the cancellation was an issue, and for something that I had built up so much in my head, that was just something I couldn’t quite bear. So, I spent nearly 13 years not watching Deadwood but frequently thinking about watching it before late last year, when I finally decided that I was being ridiculous.
1783 was not a good year for Captain Ross Poldark. A British army officer, he has just returned from their defeat in the American Revolutionary War. He comes home to find that his inheritance is in shambles, that his family thought he was dead, and that his beloved Elizabeth has married another. Well, specifically, she married his cousin Francis. As you can imagine, complications ensue. . . .
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