When TV Becomes Trivial - Analysis of The 100 S5

"I'm going to write because I cannot help it," -Charlotte Bronte

As you all well know, my favorite hobby is analyzing stories. And, of course, I like to analyze the content I'm consuming. 

Is anyone surprised?

Anyway, Season 5 of my third favorite tv show - The 100 - has been airing for the past month, and I've been noticing a trend that's concerning. It has also plagued The CW's Riverdale. It could be that these two shows come from the same network, but alas. It's still a problem. 

Season Five picks back up at the very end where Season Four left off, with Clarke radioing Bellamy, and a mysterious ship appearing in the air. And from there, there's only about a one episode interlude of establishing both where Clarke is on earth and where Bellamy and the others are in space. One other episode is spent on Octavia in the bunker, but otherwise, the episodes plunge right back into the thick of the plot. 

And already, we have a problem. This season's conflict arises when a group of prisoners come down from their mother ship to fight for the last habitable spot on earth - well, North America at least. 

And my question is this: why focus on this when there are six years worth of quality material that is just skipped over? The stories within the six years are far more interesting that just watching our heroes defeat yet another villain. Imagine all of the things that happened to them over six years that changed them and shape them into who they are. Skipping all of this time and just breezing right past all of that good character material is just a disservice. 

This is, unfortunately, a pitfall that many tv shows fall into. Once Upon A Time and The Walking Dead, to name a few. And it all culminates to the fact that the writers start writing for the thrills and stop writing for the characters, which is a one-stop-shop to failure. The characters of The 100 feel disconnected from who they were, which is a tragedy. But it would be less of a tragedy if the writers spent more time developing who they had changed into. 

However, I think this is a systemic problem with television though. The writers can't see a permanent end in sight because they never know if the show is going to be renewed, and if they do, it's probably too little too late to fix all of their problems. When you can't see a permanent end in sight, meaning something that overarcs through the whole series, it all feels . . . trivial. Like nothing matters, and all of the characters seem to reset at the beginning of another season. 

The problem when tv shows drag on and on, like The 100 is gearing towards, is that it starts writing for the thrills and not writing for the characters. The writers think they need to keep the watchers hooked with big reveals and plot twists, but all they really need is solid characters with growing arcs. I'm afraid that this is what The 100 is becoming, because jumping right back into the action without giving these characters time to develop - or even breathe - makes all of the other time we spent with them in past seasons feel wasted. It all loses meaning when the writers forget to focus on the most important part of the story. 

The 100 is a good show. It has strong characters, heartbreaking arcs, and interesting and complex themes and morals. Don't let stats, viewership, or the uncertainty of renewal draw your focus away from what really keeps viewers: the characters. I'm looking at you, Jason Rothenberg. You can do better. You have done better. 

~The WordShaker

Netflix's "Atypical" and The Media's Portrayal of Dads | Olivia J

"All good writing begins with terrible first efforts. You need to start somewhere," -Anne Lamott

In recent Western media, there seems to be two types of Dads - the Bumbling, Comic-Relief Dad, and the Deadbeat, Absent Dad. 

While these two tropes can be respectively entertaining and effective, it paints a clear picture of what our culture believes about fathers in general. 

I recently binge-watched Netflix's Atypical, a family drama about a teenage boy on the autism spectrum, and was pleasantly surprised by the portrayal of the father, Doug. I could talk extensively about how the show succeeds in it's character development and execution of themes and messages, but, as the title suggests, I want to dive into what Atypical does so beautifully in portraying fathers. 

First off, Doug's characterization is refreshing. He's presented to the audience as not just some comic relief, but also as a human being with problems, thoughts, and complexity. This isn't something we see too often in father figures. Often, the father figure is a bumbling background idiot, or he's just an asshole because plot. 

However, Doug is portrayed as a human being, not as comedic relief or to give other characters a damaged background. It feels like he matters to the story as an individual, and not just as a plot convenience or to inspire other characters. We see the reasons and motivation behind his actions - bad and good -  and he truly becomes a heartfelt dad who is trying his hardest to connect with his son. 

Jumping off of Doug and Sam (the protagonist), his relationships with the people in his life are revolutionary. Not only does he have a good relationship with his daughter, he loves his wife (despite her infidelity), and desires desperately to connect with Sam - and does his best to do so. 

This trait is admirable, because all too often we see disconnected dads, out-of-touch dads, and terrible dads, but in actuality, most fathers aren't extreme. What makes this portrayal so revolutionary is that it portrays realistic, average fathers - ones who have the best intentions, but don't always succeed. Ones who care a whole lot, but sometimes make bad decisions. And those kinds of dads are the ones that we need to see more of. 

I probably could keep raving about Atypical and all of the things it does right (I'm looking at you, non-offensive-and-accurate-portrayal-of-autism), and the small, nit-picky things I would have changed. However, I digress. I think I've made my point. 

Here's to writing better dads! 

~The WordShaker

The Devolution of "The End of the F***ing World" | TV Review

"If my doctor told me I had only six minutes to live, I wouldn't brood. I'd type a little faster," -Isaac Asimov

The End of the F***ing World is brilliant. 

It really is. It's dark and subtle and blunt but also deeply heartfelt. I watched this story in one massive, exhilarating breath. 

However - and if you're a regular, then you saw this coming - it has some problems. If you're here looking for all of the things that TEOTFW does right, then you've come to the wrong place. There are hundreds of other reviews that cover the almost insurmountable good aspects of TEOTFW. This blog post is all about the bad.

You've been warned. 

~

The show starts out fantastically. And by fantastic, I mean FAN-F***ING-TASTIC. 

TEOTFW jumps off from the premise that James is a self-diagnosed psychopath and Alyssa is a moody and rebellious teen disillusioned with her family life. Immediately, this intrigued me. It seemed like your typical road trip love story with a dark twist. And to a point, it was. 

James is established as an unfeeling outcast with a dark and ambiguous past. For a while there, there's this strangely wonderful disconnect because you care for him, but you also hate him because he's kind of an awful person. 

Then there's Alyssa. She's tough-as-nails and rude, but also carefree and eccentric. She's the character we identify with the most at the beginning, not just because of characterization or development, but because she shows a full range of emotions, and James is still a bit of a terrible person at this point. 

*Side note: Can we just take a moment and praise the storytelling gods that neither James nor Alyssa were manic pixie dream characters?*

I'd argue that Episodes 1 through 4 are the strongest. They carry a subtle emotional weight, while softening the two hardened characters with an incredible amount of interesting tension. And I think I've narrowed it down as to why the rest of the season falters. 

There's a moment that perfectly verbalizes the problem. James thinks to himself: 

"Having finally murdered a human, I realized something quite important: I was pretty sure I wasn't a psychopath."

After James kills the serial rapist/murderer - and after the aftermath - , the story seems to meander along until they inevitably get caught.  It nearly devolved into a generic teen-love road trip story. 

And it's because that nearly all narrative and character tension disappears. 

The pitch for the story, and what the story hinges on - James being a psychopath and road tripping with this girl to find her father - disappears. Sure, they still try and find her father, but the foundation of the story and what the first four episodes was built upon is torn out from under it. The main concept just falls apart. 

After about Episode 4, James subsequently loses about 75% of his character complexity. Instead of being mostly unfeeling and hell bent on murder, he becomes a shy boy with a tortured past (which everyone has seen before). He loses this complexity because now, James has very little to do other than run from the law. More on that later.

The show also loses its dramatic irony, which is what made the first episodes funny in a skin-crawling kind of way. In turn, it loses it's narrative tension. Back when we believe that James is going to kill - or, at least, attempt to kill - Alyssa, it adds a sense of unease and anxiety to an otherwise strong, heartfelt, and darkly funny teenage 'finding yourself' road trip. And that was extremely engaging, interesting and new in an often contrived but well-meaning genre, and I was disappointed when the whole show unraveled from there. 

Th show's other main problem is it's focus. At the beginning, James is the focus. While Alyssa is his means to an end, she remains a strong and consistent driving force in the story. However, the picture is still painted that James is the protagonist, while Alyssa is one of the two main characters. (Yes, there is a difference. Look it up. Article #1, #2) I digress.

After James' "goal" is reached (killing someone), he ceases being the protagonist, and the mantle moves on to Alyssa, who still needs to find her dad. However, while well executed, her story arc isn't nearly as interesting as James'. 

Ex: "Girl searches out deadbeat dad only to find that he's a deadbeat dad, realizes stuff about life, and falls in love with a boy?" Totally haven't seen that one before. But "teens with emotional baggage embark on a quirky road trip PLUS some psychopathic tendencies and dark humor?" That sounds a hell of a lot more original. 

The story tries to tie it back in, making it James' story with the final moments of the show, but it falls flat since we've spent the last half of the season with Alyssa as the focus. 

TEOTFW seems to be divided into two equal parts. A dark teen comedy-drama with amazing subtlety and a compelling thread of tension to an almost stereotypical teen love story  with the themes of love, deadbeat dads, and quirk. But, like I said, the latter isn't bad, but for a show that starts off so incredibly strong while including the classic elements of the teenage road trip, the last four episodes feel . . . lacking in the dry charm, subtlety, and tension that made the first four episodes so good. 

That all being said, TEOTFW is still fantastic. I still highly recommend it. The characters, direction, dialogue, and emotional and humorous dynamics are all wonderful. I can't stress that enough. Days after finishing this show, the story stuck with me, and I expect it to stick with me for a while. However, it stumbles a bit from dissolving character and narrative tension and focus problems. 

Objective Rating: 8.5/10 would recommend.
Enjoyment Rating: 9/10 would recommend. 

I think I just expected something different. And maybe that's on me, or maybe that's on the show for portraying A, B, and C throughout the first four episodes, but then portraying X, Y, and Z for the rest. 

But I digress. In conclusion: watch The End of the F***ing World so we can fangirl about it but also pick it apart together. Think of it as a bonding experience.  

~The Wordshaker

The ONE Flaw in Stranger Things S1 | Review by Olivia J

"I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and stab us," -Franz Kafka

I love Stranger Things. 

Yes, you read the title correctly. I do love Stranger Things. 

Follow me on Instagram. I post fun stuff.

However, like most things, it's not perfect, despite what everyone and their mother says. 

For this review, I'm not going to go in depth on why Stranger Things is fantastic. There are hundreds of other reviews for that. Mostly, I'm going to discuss the one flaw that holds it back from greatness. 

(Spoilers, duh.)

Everything else (music, cinematography, atmosphere, etc.) was all really good, but I will mention the major thing that resonated with me.

The Characters

The kids, aside from being great actors, are endearing, funny, and realistic. 

Jonathan is one of those phenomenal characters who is a little bit of an awful person - which, in my opinion, are the best characters. 

I didn't much care for Nancy at the beginning of Season 1, but she really grew on me, and now she's one of my favorites. She's strong and sensitive and unbearably human. 

Also, Jancy is endgame. 

The adults in Stranger Things are competent and compelling and PRESENT. For the most part. 

The characters in Stranger Things are what really sold it for me. Pretty much every character was complex, human, and compelling. If a story has great characters, I'm pretty much down for anything. And for that alone, I love Stranger Things. 

~

And, the moment you've all been waiting for . . . .

The BIG flaw of Stranger Things is . . . . . . 

The Pacing

For a show called Stranger Things, it sure does reveal most of its hand pretty early on. 

I hate to compare it to Lost, but . . . . 

I'm going to compare it to Lost.

So, in Lost, we don't even SEE the Smoke Monster until the end of Season 1, and at that point, it's just snippets. However, the monster is always lurking, giving the other plots throughout the 6 seasons a sense of danger and mystery.

And this is where Stranger Things loses it's footing. There's never that sense of mystery of what all this is. The way the characters figure it out and explain it all kind of makes sense and subsequently makes the remainder of the show seem so much less . . . strange. Sure, there is that thriller/suspense, however, it's undercut by the inclusion of the Upside Down and what the monster actually looks like very early on in the season. 

The show doesn't give its audience time to think over and ponder the mystery. What Lost did so well - and what Stranger Things still has to learn - is finding that sweet spot of revealing just enough to keep the audience guessing, but also not too much that they get bored or can predict what's going to happen. 

Stranger Things would have done well to extend the seasons a bit, and keep some key details under wraps for a longer period of time. 

~

(Also, a little nitpicking: Why does no one else care about Barb? Ahem, she's missing, too.)

I've started Season 2, and so far, it's better than Season 1, but S1 is still fabulously iconic. 

Please don't rip me apart because I didn't find Stranger Things perfect. 

I mean, I'm not sure that you all expected any different from this self-proclaimed critic. 

~The WordShaker

Riverdale Is Barely Above Average | The CW's Riverdale Review

"Sometimes we don't choose the ideas. The ideas choose us," -Allison Tait

This week, Lauren and I binge-watched Riverdale. No need to comment on how late we are. 

As usual, we'll start with the bad. And boy, was there a surprising amount of it. 

1. Betty's Character (or lack thereof)

Betty was by far my least favorite character. At times, even Archie was more expertly written. While Betty did do the most to further the murder plot, and her history was interesting, Betty herself was not interesting at all. 

Breaking it down to it's most basic, characters need to have two essential things: an interesting personality, and an internal conflict. 

Betty is ultimately uninteresting. No part of her personality is captivating to the audience, nor makes us want to watch her. What makes Veronica so charismatic is her bold confidence, her commanding presence. What makes Jughead so lovable is his dry humor. What outstanding personality traits does Betty have, to distinguish her from the tired girl-next-door archetype? Any personality trait that makes her charismatic, engaging, or enjoyable? Central characters need to be interesting and charismatic, so they hold our attention until we connect with them emotionally. 

Betty's internal conflict - if you can even call it that - is brushed to the side. All characters need to have an internal conflict. It's like a requirement. Jughead has his low-self esteem, and his messed up family. Veronica has her identity crisis to handle, along with her messed up family as well. Even Archie has an internal conflict, with him balancing his dad's work with music and football. 

Sure, you could argue that it's the 'darkness' inside of Betty is her internal conflict, but is that ever explored? No. Should it have been explored?  Yes. Could it have been explored more? A thousand times yes.

We spend so much time with Betty and her family, but her internal conflict is barely even touched on. Everyone else got moments for their internal conflicts to be discovered and even resolved, sometimes. But Betty didn't get that time of day, and before you try and tell me she deserved more screentime, please refer to the first problem I mentioned with Betty as a character. 

2. Confused Narrative

Riverdale is confused. Confused on what it wants to do. Confused on what it wants to be. Confused on who it's protagonist is. 

This point is a big one, because it covers the many structural and writing errors in this show. 

Before we get into the meat of the show, I'd like to discuss how convenient some plot points are. People hear things because they need to, people overreact to cause drama, etc. It was a cheap way to further the plot, sometimes. 

Onto the big structural failings. 

First, is it's lack of a protagonist. Argue all you want that this is a group narrative, but an integral part of fiction is the protagonist. Not necessarily the main character(s), but the protagonist. 

What I mean by this is that a main character is someone we spend a lot of time with in the narrative. The main characters are Archie, Betty, Veronica, and Jughead. All other characters are secondary or tertiary characters. 

However, the protagonist is the character who the story is about. This is the character who we are supposed to connect with the most, who is the hero, who drives the story. Riverdale, however, is utterly confused about this fact. There can only be one protagonist. That's just how fiction works best. 

Archie, who is painted as the protagonist, does little to further the plot - which is the whodunit of Jason Blossom. Archie, who is painted as the protagonist, is a static character. Archie, who is painted as the protagonist, has a very disconnected story from the main plot, and I think that's his greatest flaw. 

His internal conflict - music vs. football/dad - doesn't relate to Jason's murder at all. Veronica's and Jughead's internal conflict does, and Betty's external conflict are all intertwined with the messy world that is the town of Riverdale, which is why they flow naturally and are interesting to watch. Unfortunately, the public consensus is that Archie's conflict is too polarized from the actual conflict of the show that it detracts from everything else. 

This also has to do with how this show wastes its time. Why were the Pussycats relevant? Why did we spend a whole episode on the talent show, when there were far more important and interesting things that could further character development and the plot? They didn't make us care about Archie, and, in turn, his music, so the episode felt like a waste of time, when it would have been better spent with Betty finding her sister. 

The show tries to put the focus on Archie, when the real meat of the show lies elsewhere.

3. Archie's Mommy issues (or, rather, just Archie himself)

More ranting about Archie, because he, along with Betty, deserved to be ranted about. 

Starting with the Ms. Grundy storyline. Aside from it being downright illegal, Archie is supposed to be 15/16 - a sophomore in high school - and Ms. Grundy is supposed to be in her late 20s, early thirties. Despite what Archie says, this relationship is predatory and toxic. 

While it was beyond cringey while it was happening, when Ms. Grundy was removed from the scene, Archie became much less interesting, if that was even possible. All of the questions that it raised were brushed aside. Is he doing this because he has mommy issues? What has Grundy done to him to make him trapped in this unhealthy relationship? How will this affect him in the future? 

This is much more of an interesting internal conflict than his music vs. everything else. 

Something that distinguishes Jughead's writing passion from Archie's music is that we can understand why Jughead likes writing. It is subtly expressed through his narration, his introversion, and his dedication. Inversely, we never can identify with why Archie loves music so much. We're never given an "it gives me inner peace" or an "I love what music can do to the human soul". We cannot see the logical explanation for Archie the character's love for music. 

Combined with the show's utter confusion on how to portray Archie as the protagonist, Archie comes off as flat and disappointing. 

~ 

Now, onto the good, which is the reason I didn't rate it a 4/10. 

1. Jughead and Veronica 

In case you aren't aware yet, Jughead and Veronica are the saving graces of this show. They are beautifully written characters. 

First, Jughead. Perfectly charismatic and sympathetic, he adds another layer to the angsty bad boy with a big heart. His internal conflict, and how it wraps itself up in the town of Riverdale, is poignant and interesting. The commentary on his social status, his emotional reactions, everything about him makes him seem, truly, like he's a real person.

 We sympathize with him not because he's hot - unlike what everyone else might argue - but because he is flawed, and both the audience and Jughead can see that. We see how his problems affect him and his life, unlike a few other characters.  Then, through Betty, Archie, and the whole murder debacle, he faces his demons, accepts it, and overcomes, little by little. He is by far the best character on this show because everything he does furthers his external and internal conflict.  He undoubtedly has the strongest character arc. 

On to Veronica. 

Veronica, whilst being portrayed as the 'rich bitch', is barely second to Jughead in being the best character.  Again, she is charismatic and interesting. 

Her internal conflict - her identity vs. her father/family - is a perfect layer to this ultimately complex small town, and it was explored tactfully and perfectly. She turns the idea of the 'rich bitch' on its head. We see her post-character shift, and the audience is pleasantly surprised by her genuine goodness, despite her villainous vixen-esque looks and attitude. It makes her all the more interesting and compelling to watch when she's on screen. 

Veronica's compassion and devotion to comfort others are admirable, and her struggle to defy her family is a cornerstone of the teenage existence. However, it's done so well that sometimes the cliche notes that her storyline hits can be overlooked because of her compelling nature as a character and how well it's executed. 

Like Jughead, none of her actions are meaningless. All of them further her external and internal conflict. They blend together almost seamlessly, and her motivation in solving the murder plot makes her a wonderfully active character. 

Jughead and Veronica are faceted and compelling characters who are the protagonists of their own story, and who drive their own external and internal conflicts. They are interesting and well-written, and unfortunately, Betty and Archie just aren't. 

Honorable Mention: Cheryl

Because I just had to give her a shoutout. A new iconic Regina-George archetype has emerged: Cheryl Blossom, who has a surprisingly deeper layer than the infamous Mean Girl. 

At first, I hated Cheryl. Then, I loved to hate her. And then I found myself genuinely liking her. Not because she was a good person, but because she morphed into a real person. 

As more and more of her life is revealed, we begin to see why she is the way she is, and her cruelty has some context, some meaning. Her erratic behavior becomes entertaining and intriguing. Her descent into near madness seems like it was a long time in the making, and it becomes even more satisfying to witness. 

Cheryl grows to be more complex throughout the show, paralleling our knowledge of the murder with our knowledge of Cheryl as a person, and this makes for a pleasantly surprising character arc to add to the mix. 

But her implied incest with Jason. Holy crap, no thanks. 

2. Small Town Dynamic

This is much smaller of an observation, but it really added to the overall watching experience. 

They really nailed the dynamics in a small town, or really, a small setting. I live in a small town, and use to go to a really small school, so the twisty drama that was slowly peeled back like layers was engaging to watch. 

Riverdale does have a very strong concept. The secretive, murder-mystery works well with the modern portrayal of teenage dysfunction. No one in the town is exempt from secrets, and I will commend this show for constructing and weaving it together so nicely. It reflects the culture of middle, small-town America with poignancy. The dynamics between the football players, the good girls, the rich bitches, and the outcasts reflects the culture of an enclosed environment.

 The town lore, although darker than what I'm used to, is realistic in terms of the way that it influences the people and the society. The setting was colorful in the way that a murderous clown is, and the ambiance/aesthetic of the small town is spot on. 

I'll also commend it for not having massive twist endings. Sometimes shows like that can be exhausting, but the show used them wisely to shock the watcher at the appropriate times. 

~

In short, Riverdale isn't as good as everyone said it was. Betty and Archie suck, and it has poor narrative structure because of convenience, protagonist confusion, and time wasting. Despite that, it's clever plotting, overall concept, and two most developed characters are what made me enjoy this tv show regardless.

~

6.5/10 would recommend. 

Now, just because I rated this show a 6.5/10, doesn't mean it's a bad movie. Think of it like a 65% on Rotten Tomatoes. Above average (5/10) but nothing great or special with some glaring pitfalls. Don't get your Middle American scandals in a twist.  

~The WordShaker

Clarke Griffin: The Useless Heroine | Analysis of The 100

"Read obsessively. Write furiously. Edit carefully," -Sissy Gavrilaki

Back in Seasons 1 and 2, I actually really liked Clarke Griffin. She was strong and sensitive and a great leader. However, she has been on a slow de-evolution since Season 3, although it has rapidly gone downhill since Season 4. I wasn't able to quite place why this happened and my subsequent disliking of her as a character. 

But it hit me in 4x11, "The Other Side".

Clarke's cold, stupid, and almost rash decisions are motivated by one thing: nothing. That's it. She's completely lost herself. In this whole battle to save the human race, she's become this archetype trying to save humanity, but also being a total asshole in the process. 

https://fsmedia.imgix.net/db/08/26/30/e42d/4b31/a240/a556ff3daa2f/clarke-griffin-in-a-lie-guarded.png

Clarke has lost her motivation. In Season 1, her motivation was to keep her people safe and to help them survive. In Season 2, it was to get them back home safely. In Season 3, it was pretty much Lexa for a while there, and then it was to save everyone from ALIE. In Season 4, it's become even more generic with 'saving humanity' plotline. But the wider Clarke's motivation gets, the less she feels like a real person, the less we connect with her and root for her. She is lacking a meaningful character arc or motivation, which is necessary for any character. It's like, Step 3 in creating a character.

Another problem is Clarke's lack of relationships. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that Clarke needs a love interest or should just get with Bellamy already. While that would be nice, what I'm really talking about is how Clarke doesn't have any strong relationships we can root for, whether that be friendships, family members, or someone romantically. These relationships make a character more realistic, human, and make the audience want the main character to succeed. With people that the main character cares about, this raises the stakes. However, Clarke's friends or lovers are all dead, and the ones who aren't, their relationships have been severely neglected. 

Why do we love Bellamy, Octavia, Jasper, Monty, Murphy, and Raven so much?  Because they have people they love and who love them, and they fight for what they want and have clear and realistic character traits. They have interesting motivations that compel them to act and drive their storylines in dynamic and emotional ways. 

On the other hand, Clarke has become flat. Almost a Deus Ex Machina of sorts, where she always is the savior and always has to solve the problem. Without an interesting or emotional motivation, her actions seem, well, bitchy. Because Clarke never has emotional depth, change, or true struggle, she has become a gray slate, stagnant and uninteresting. 

And it's a real tragedy.

~

An amazing little post about the missed opportunity of great character conflict in 4x11:

http://wellamyblake.tumblr.com/post/160552229725/purging-2-disappointments-from-411 

~The WordShaker

13 Thoughts about "13 Reasons Why"

"The worst thing you can do is censor yourself as the pencil hits the paper. You must not edit until you get it all on paper," -Stephen Sondheim

Note: These are my opinions, mostly. Feel free to disagree, kindly. I know this is a sensitive topic, but don't discredit me or my thoughts because I didn't find this series flawless. Just because I didn't think this was perfect and I think there are some things wrong with it doesn't mean it's not important or impactful to other people. 

1. Clay Jensen is an angel, and the actor is phenomenal. 

You can't help but fall in love with Clay. Anyone who says they don't love Clay is lying. He's a strong character who surely can carry the weight of the show on his shoulders. Dylan Minette does an unspeakably great job. He captures the mannerisms, the subtle movements, and the emotions of Clay with astounding perfection. But Clay isn't perfect - he's human. And that's even more perfect. 

2. It's definitely not what I expected. 

One of the reasons I hesitated on watching this show is that it was pitched as a mystery. Still, I expected it to be about how the 13 reasons connected, dealt with it, listened, and learned. Or something like that. I guess I assumed that because that's the stories that I like, and I was a little bored and offput by the direction of the show. However, since I haven't read the book, I came to accept it for what it was.  

3. Justin's flawless character development. 

I'll talk more about characters and character development later. But Justin especially. We're led to believe he's this basic, popular hot guy, but then it turns this stereotype on its head. Through all of this awful shit he does, we are still able to see what he goes through and why he's like this. And, truth be told,  I didn't like him much until his backstory is slowly revealed. What sold me is his undying love for Jessica. It was so heartbreaking and admirable of him, and it showed his humanity, which fleshed him out immediately, and then everything else he had done in the show made sense.  

4. I had a hard time connecting to Hannah in the beginning. 

I attribute this to her lack of development as a human being. For about half of the show, I sympathized with Hannah but I didn't empathize with her feelings or see her as this whole person, as we should have from the beginning. If she was developed as a character earlier, the beginning part of the show wouldn't be so mild, and the things people did to Hannah in the beginning would have hit the audience harder. Another complaint is the question of why she didn't tell her parents. Up until we see them fighting a bit at the end, we're never given a reason why she wouldn't tell them about her other problems. This also was a roadblock in me connecting with her because, at times, she seemed to be acting kind of ridiculous. However, as the series progressed, we were shown that she really is a good person, further solidifying her character. 

5. Episode 13 lost its way. 

Throughout the whole series, I found that this was less about Hannah than it was about Clay. And episode 13 should have put more of the focus on Clay, and seeing how he truly learns and moves on. Where it does pick itself back up is when Clay calls after Skye. However, it wasn't as powerful as I had wanted. More on this later. 

6. I've heard a lot of stories about suicide, and this was mostly uninspirational. 

"But Olivia," you say. "It's about a girl who commits suicide. It's not supposed to be inspirational."  And to that I say, the purpose of art is to teach. And while it does do a great job of teaching the watcher about bullying and it's effects, it lacks something. Every good teacher should inspire us to become our best selves, to reach for the stars. And since art teaches, it should also inspire. An exception to this is when Clay reaches out to Skye, because this shows he learned his lesson and changes because of it, which is inspirational. However, nothing else in the story is inspiratioal, and with a story as dark and depressing as this, it needs to have some level of inspirational quality in order to balance out the darkness.  It's important for a story like this to be inspirational so it gives the watchers - who probably relate to this - hope.

8. The cast of complex characters. 

Clay, Sheri, Alex, Zach, Tyler, Ryan, Justin. Some of these characters were slow burns, like Justin and Zach. But all of the characters above are truly complex human beings. And what makes them so is that we're not only shown their personality and who they are, but that they aren't just the demons shown on Hannah's tapes. They're bad and they're good, and this makes them beautifully and enjoyable complex characters. 

9. The all too many one-sided characters. 

Bryce, Courtney, Marcus, Jessica. Now, you may be wondering why I placed Jessica on this list. Throughout the show, I never liked her. I thought she was a resolute bitch, and surely what she went through was tragic and awful, but, like I mentioned earlier, we never see her having a redeeming quality or something else that would humanize her. She needs to be a character first.  I don't think I need to explain why the other three have made this list. However, this isn't a superhero movie. We're not dealing with supervillains, we're dealing with high schoolers. 

10. Lack of attention on mental illness. 

Bullying is rarely the sole reason why someone takes their own life because, in order for someone to commit suicide like that, they can't be in the right headspace. This could have been more complex if layers about Hannah's mental state would have been factored in. If we were shown more about how this not only affected her emotionally, but psychologically, it would make it not only more relatable to people but also more realistic and complex.

11. Episode 11 is a work of pure art. 

Best episode, by far. It was so insightful to both Hannah and Clay, especially Clay's flaws, and why he has them. Every emotional moment hit like a baseball bat. But truly, the reason Episode 11 was so beautiful was because I felt it. My uncle committed suicide about a year and a half ago, and everything Clay was feeling - I had felt. And one of the reasons I thought the show - and some of the characters - were so unrealistic was because someone died and they never felt the feelings I did, thought the things I did. Until Episode 11. I cried during Episode 11 because it was truly what I needed, what I wanted out of that show. I recommend this show just for Episode 11 alone. 

12. Great cinematography. 

Dynamic shots, camera concentrations on a certain character, mood lighting. These all added up to make the cinematography of the show something spectacular. It's like the writing, if the medium was a book. Something I noticed was the flashbacks had a warmer, yellow-toned lighting to them, but the present day had, cooler, duller lighting. This was a great way to distinguish the timing, and even the mood, so much more effectively than just having Clay's cut on his head. The transitions between the tapes and the present day were smooth and dynamic. The storylines were weaved together nicely, and the alternating chunks of the story weren't too long. 

13. Focus confusion on Hannah and Clay. 

Was this Clay's story?  Was this Hannah's story?  Both?  I ask these questions because their answers aren't always so clear. Based on what Clay does at the end, and how he percievably changes, you'd think it's Clay's story. However, by the climax, it's Hannah's story. By splitting the focus on the two characters, we're left feeling like neither story was explored or completed like it should be. When you have a story, there must be one singular character that the story is about, otherwise, the arcs fall flat on their ass. This is what happened here. Clay's mental health, him as a character, the impact he could have had, are all cut short on time exploring Hannah. This could have been balanced out much better by changing the lens in which Clay listened to the tapes, and the way her backstories are portrayed. 

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Now, all of these points contribute to my final, fourteenth thought, like the fourteenth tape.

14. The ending left me frustrated, which is not what it should have done. 

I finished it and screamed. That couldn't be it. Not a drive off into the distance and a fade out. Truly, it felt unfair. Besides a bit of Clay's personal narrative, virtually nothing else was resolved. The court case, the status of most of the characters, what happened when her parents listened to the tapes.

 And you could argue that these things were supposed to be left open-ended because both Hannah's story and Clay's story was done. However, we've come to care about what happens with Hannah's parents, the case, and the other characters. By not giving us feasably conclusive ends to the story, it feels like a steal. It feels unsatisfying. And after a story like that, that's the last thing we want to feel. 

Sure, the author very rarely is required to give the consumer exactly what they want, but at this point, I pose the question: Why build up these storylines, if you're not going to complete them?

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Overall, I really enjoyed - or, as much as I could enjoy a series about a dead girl - this tv show, even if I did have some complaints. I wish there was a fourteenth episode, giving this series the conclusion it really deserves. I do believe it puts forth an important message that words have power, and we can never know what someone else is going through. 

~The WordShaker

It's More Fun If They Die at The End | Analysis of The 100's Season 4

"The worst thing you write is better than the best thing you did not write," -Ellen Jackson

PSA: Sorry there was no blog post last week. Life caught up with me, and I ended up having NO time. Hopefully that won't happen again. On to this week's post!

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It's more fun if they die at the end. 

While this isn't always the case, in many post-apocalyptic or science fiction stories, it should be the case, especially when the situation is hopeless. 

Where shows and books write themselves into a corner, is that they set up this hopeless situation, creating this plotline that drives the story. However, what all too often happens is that the infamous plot device deus ex machina quite literally pops up. 

A deus ex machina is where a seemingly unsolvable problem is suddenly abruptly resolved by the inspired and unexpected intervention of a new event. Thanks, Wikipedia. 

The way that Season 4 of the 100 is progressing is that the radiation is exponentially growing, and will wipe out 99% of life on earth, as claimed by the show. The main plot involves them trying to find ways to either stop the radiation or protect everyone from it as it ravages the earth. Our favorite flawed leaders, Clarke and Bellamy, are trying to save the day, along with a neurotic Raven. 

In this past week's episode, there is almost a hope of having another bunker, built by a religious zealot. My initial thoughts during the episode consisted of "oh no, this place is going to be habitable, and then the rest of the season is just going to be them fixing it up and making it usable."

What the episode beautifully pulls off is convincing the audience that this place would be intact and able to support the earth's populous. When this doesn't end up working out for our fatal heroes, I felt almost a relief. 

Why?  Don't I want everything to work out peachy and for everyone to survive?

No, not in this case. Because if another deus ex machina comes in and saves everyone, then there will be no point, the cycle of surviving and killing that The 100 has found itself in will only perpetuate. 

My projection is that this season will be The 100's last. I almost want it to be it's last season, because it will create a beautiful story arc with my predictions. 

1a. Clarke and Bellamy are unable to find another place except the Ark to hold 100 people, almost poetically. 

1b. 100 people, hopefully not our main characters, hole up in the Ark and survive the nuclear meltdowns. Our main characters die happily, having fulfilled their mission and resolved the conflict, and the human race lives on. 

2a. The Ark is somehow damaged beyond the repair of fixing in time. There is no place to hide. 

2b. 99% of the human population dies. However, our characters accept their death and live their last, sick days to the fullest. Or, they put themselves out of their misery via group suicide. 

I want my beloved characters to die because it will wrap up the story. Truly, I see almost no way out of this situation. The only other avenue I could see is if Season 5 would cover the straggling survivors on the Ark. 

However, the ending of the series would be much more impactful if it ended here, and in the two scenarios I provided above. 

It would be more impactful because if everyone or our beloved characters died, then it would give the message that you can't just live life by surviving, and sometimes dying can be more fulfilling than living. If everyone died, it would be poetic justice. The Arkadians sent down the 100 to die, they didn't die, but later, they ended up dying from radiation fallout, having learned all they could on the ground. It would be a fulfilling and timely death for all of our original 100. 

Compare this to the movie Passengers, starring Christ Pratt and Jennifer Lawrence. They are faced with a spaceship that is breaking down, and they have woken up about eighty years too early to arrive at their destination. After fixing the ship, and, of course, realizing they love each other, they accept their fate, which is that they won't be able to reenter cryogenic sleep. So, Pratt's and Lawrence's characters 'bloom where they're planted' so to speak, and live out the rest of their lives, alone on the ship. This is the impactful, deep, and emotional ending I have envisioned for this series. 

I suppose I wouldn't be mad if Season 5 continued on with some of our main characters inside of the ark riding out the radiation, but then, that would definitely have to be the end, with the remaining survivors barely scraping by to rebuild civilization. However, Jasper, everyone's favorite drug addict alongside Charlie Pace, has been the ringleader of what I want to happen. 

The characters learn to live, not just to survive, accept their inevitable death, and find peace within themselves. 

A hesitant watcher because Jason Rothenberg has hurt me too much already,

~The WordShaker