A Post In the Machine.
"Shōgun," books that make us happy, a need to plan for diversions. It's the Notes Column.
Talking about television when you should be writing a television show; writing about television when you should be watching television.
I am on ships that pass each/crash into each other at sea.
Which is weird, because I’m mostly in a cargo van these days. On land. Moving. As you might have guessed.
I’ll have future thoughts about “Shōgun” and probably would have had a Two Episode Test in place of this….this…thing here (“That’s…that’s not The Goose”1), but there has been so little time to do anything in February and even less ability to stay awake and write. Or just stay awake.
So, more thoroughness later. Now, just this Goose.
The first episode of “Shōgun” was fine enough; it set the scene and kept me interested in getting to the second episode, which was bypassed by opening moving boxes and, a day later, speaking to film students at UC Berkeley. (The latter was a lot more fun than the former).
But first, a quick side-story about “Shōgun.”
A while back, someone in the TV business asked me if I was excited for what could be, in this person’s opinion, the next great miniseries. I answered truthfully, as no episodes had dropped: “It’s 2024, so I’m not sure we really need a white guy going into Japan to save the country.”
And you thought I had lost my snark.
I have not. I can still speak snark to power when needed.
Yet as most everyone knows by now, this remake of of the 1980 NBC and Richard Chamberlain- led miniseries based on James Clavell’s best-selling book has been, expectedly, freshened up to be less, uh, colonial and white-zeitgeist-y in its views and execution.
One would hope so.
And hey, I wasn’t even born when the first one came out. (Narrator: “Actually, he was.”)
At the time of this conversation I’m speaking of, with no episodes available, and my interest in being as up on things as I was when criticism was my main job suddenly being much lower, I didn’t really care much about anything “Shōgun” related, except for my deep-sigh disappointment in all remakes.
I guess I disappointed this person? In my defense, that’s kind of on brand.
So while I have high hopes for a better version 44 years later, I’m always going to want something original first and foremost. Especially, post-writer’s strike, when less will be getting made.
Let’s hold space for fresh things, shall we?
I was opening some boxes on Wednesday and it’s really something to see a collection of books you love but perhaps take for granted all lined up neatly, removed from their past places of honor and looking fresh in a new home. I have a lot of books on design and architecture and, as I’ve mentioned before, they not only bring me great joy to read (and thumb through, repeatedly, year after year) but a wonderful sense of calm as well.
If I wasn’t already taking Xanax, I would eat these design books. They help THAT well.
While I promised myself a digital detox in 2024, it’s also true that I have shifted much of my design and architecture reading/perusing to online sites. And with a splashy new monitor — not broken in the move because I drove the damned thing over myself in the Fiat — everything looks large and gorgeous on the screen.
But nothing can replace the books. They even smell good. And I still have great tactile pleasure turning each page, many with thick paper stock and drool-worthy photography, and falling out of this world and into that one.
Sometimes all it takes is a slow unboxing, like a remix of Christmases and birthday presents past (see what I did there?), to remember why we box up these heavy ass archaic things and lug them up and down horrible, no-good stairs in the first place.
A book is a lovely thing. A coffee-table sized book on Bauhaus is even lovelier. (“Discover a lovelier you”2)
I am embracing physical media more and more, so even a short time spent loving and appreciating all the books I’m still carting around, is a memorable experience. I will, of course, continue to absorb all kinds of shelter-porn through pixels, but holding a really heavy book about Charles and Ray Eames is still a thrill.
And though I didn’t plan it quite this thematically, pulling each of those (mostly) heavy coffee-table worthy books out of the packing boxes gave me something to look forward to — and ooof, wow, are we going to need to look forward to escapism this coming year.
An election year. And an election year rerun at that.
I would love my digital detox ambitions to mean a total cessation of my New York Times app reading, but I feel like if I don’t delete the app, I’ll open it. And we’re only two months into 2024 and I’m fairly certain things are going to get exponentially more anxiety-producing and portent-filled as we go along.
So, a distraction. What’s yours? Mine is going to be those books, undoubtedly. We’re either going to elect an anti-democracy, insurrectionist oligarch authoritarian, or re-elect someone likely to die in office or forget they are the president.
I’m going to need a diversion. A long one.
I’ll take “books, music, movies and television for a thousand, please.”
On Wednesday I spoke to a group of UC Berkeley film students on a number of things, like criticism, film vs. television, how not to take the lazy way out and write in first person (oops), salary expectations, what I’m working on (or not) now, happiness, influences and general advice (like, don’t go into journalism, etc.).
It was lovely.
The students are working on reviews of HBO’s “Watchmen” right now — I forgot to tell them how difficult that one is to review, so godspeed to them — and previously their wonderful professor had them read my review of “Legion” as, it turns out, a fine example of criticism. Really?, I asked her. I then had to look up that Hollywood Reporter review because I couldn’t remember it and 1) it was actually good — could have easily been bad; plenty of those reviews of mine around and 2) I was shocked to see that was seven years ago as of last month.
Damn, yo. January 2017. Wow.
Anyway, it was good to reminisce. And if they want to get into writing for television or films, I wholeheartedly endorse that. They have — in Morrissey’s words; “and you with youth on your side” — plenty of time to make a go of it.
Me, maybe not so much. But hell, I first need to get out of February, aka Moving Month, and then get back at the fiction.
Less talking about the writing. More of the writing.
Despite my negativity about remakes, I do like entertaining the possibility of some well-curated ones to get the go-ahead. Periodically I bring this up. Now seems fitting.
So, so in the shadow of “Shōgun” being remade, what other series would you like to see revived? I’ll start:
“Northern Exposure.”
Have at it in the comments.
In the meantime, I’ll be emptying boxes and eating Advil.
Name the movie.
Name the record. Or look it up and buy it.
A few thoughts on my mind: I don't know if you have mentioned it but the reboot of Battlestar Galactica was one of the best sci-fi, and best, tv series ever. On the two episode test: I watched The Regime last night on HBO. I had high hopes as it had people behind it who were behind Succession and Veep. It failed the one episode test! Excruciatingly bad, annoying, not to mention it made fun of people sensitive to, victims of, mold toxicity. But even besides that it was literally painful to watch. I felt bad for Kate Winslet and the cast, albeit she chose to star in it so . . .
Speaking of remakes, etc. looks like the Ripley trailer is up: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ri2biYLeaI