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My weekend foray into television catch-up ended up being a Band of Brothers marathon.
Oh man, oh man. I've been putting off watching this because a) I'm not generally interested in shows where women aren't central characters and b) I didn't think I could sit through a million hours of war. Anyway, both points proven wrong! It was super engrossing, like, even when I couldn't pick out regularly five faces with any conviction until about episode seven (well, I started off with the knowledge that Damian Lewis and Ron Livingston were Winters and Nixon, respectively -- ahaha, thank you fandom osmosis) I was deeply invested as soon as I could put a name to a face. My thoughts are random, as per usual:
-- Donnie Wahlberg was CERTAINLY GOOD. During, I didn't even think about this guy in any other context, such as his storied history as a boy band acid wash jean wearing hotel room trasher. I've mostly liked younger Wahlberg before, but now it makes me a little sad when seen in contrast to Donnie's career. Donnie can do quiet and sincere very well, is what I'm really sad about.
-- Doc Roe was my out and out favorite, though. Bastogne was hell, but so gorgeously shot, and at that point of watching the series, my favorite as well. So of course I Google stalked the actor as soon as I figured out what his name was. He is British (!), along with a ton of the cast, apparently (my surprise is just a tad delayed seven or so years). I can't vouch for accents since I have a terrible ear for them (are you from... the east coast? the south? the United States? Bueller?), but I loved Doc Roe and Guarnere and Shifty, et al for their voices first. I guess their heroism was good stuff too.
-- I thought David Schwimmer as Sobell was fine -- he's got being an insecure tool down pat. The fact that I haven't watched Friends regularly since 1996 helped too. Jimmy Fallon, however, was surprisingly annoying and completely took me out of the scene. I kept waiting for him to break character and giggle or channel Barry Gibb from the future. Or what have you. (Tina Fey is not here to counter your you-ness, Mr Fallon.)
-- Nixon and his elitist alcoholism! He was comic relief in a rather dark way? Enter scene: someone waking up Nixon from bed/foxhole/pool of his own disdain. Seriously, when he wasn't imbibing/searching for VAT 69 or trying out lines on Winters, he was shown to be asleep. <333
-- Damian Lewis, I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY. He is just a great actor. I will add that I am starting to believe that I enjoy British being Americans more than Americans being themselves. At least, acting-wise. I haven't considered what other areas I'd like them to usurp as of yet.
Since tomorrow is Friday and the weekend is coming up (surprisingly soon -- way to go, March!), it will take a lot of willpower not to re-watch. Thankfully, there are reasons to make myself known with the light of day: my Saturday morning kickboxing class, which is killer in an excellent way once I get past that whole morning wake up tears business; and Kelley Armstrong (author of The Summoning), coming to the public library nearest me that very same day. Exciting! Apart from local authors or academics, writers whose material I actually enjoy reading rarely do book talks here. Which is really too practical of them, or er, their crumbling publishing houses. Hey now authors! please see: Robert Louis Stevenson and Mark Twain for your daily dose of travel eccentricity. It's not 1888 anymore and you don't need to slow boat it.
Oh man, oh man. I've been putting off watching this because a) I'm not generally interested in shows where women aren't central characters and b) I didn't think I could sit through a million hours of war. Anyway, both points proven wrong! It was super engrossing, like, even when I couldn't pick out regularly five faces with any conviction until about episode seven (well, I started off with the knowledge that Damian Lewis and Ron Livingston were Winters and Nixon, respectively -- ahaha, thank you fandom osmosis) I was deeply invested as soon as I could put a name to a face. My thoughts are random, as per usual:
-- Donnie Wahlberg was CERTAINLY GOOD. During, I didn't even think about this guy in any other context, such as his storied history as a boy band acid wash jean wearing hotel room trasher. I've mostly liked younger Wahlberg before, but now it makes me a little sad when seen in contrast to Donnie's career. Donnie can do quiet and sincere very well, is what I'm really sad about.
-- Doc Roe was my out and out favorite, though. Bastogne was hell, but so gorgeously shot, and at that point of watching the series, my favorite as well. So of course I Google stalked the actor as soon as I figured out what his name was. He is British (!), along with a ton of the cast, apparently (my surprise is just a tad delayed seven or so years). I can't vouch for accents since I have a terrible ear for them (are you from... the east coast? the south? the United States? Bueller?), but I loved Doc Roe and Guarnere and Shifty, et al for their voices first. I guess their heroism was good stuff too.
-- I thought David Schwimmer as Sobell was fine -- he's got being an insecure tool down pat. The fact that I haven't watched Friends regularly since 1996 helped too. Jimmy Fallon, however, was surprisingly annoying and completely took me out of the scene. I kept waiting for him to break character and giggle or channel Barry Gibb from the future. Or what have you. (Tina Fey is not here to counter your you-ness, Mr Fallon.)
-- Nixon and his elitist alcoholism! He was comic relief in a rather dark way? Enter scene: someone waking up Nixon from bed/foxhole/pool of his own disdain. Seriously, when he wasn't imbibing/searching for VAT 69 or trying out lines on Winters, he was shown to be asleep. <333
-- Damian Lewis, I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY. He is just a great actor. I will add that I am starting to believe that I enjoy British being Americans more than Americans being themselves. At least, acting-wise. I haven't considered what other areas I'd like them to usurp as of yet.
Since tomorrow is Friday and the weekend is coming up (surprisingly soon -- way to go, March!), it will take a lot of willpower not to re-watch. Thankfully, there are reasons to make myself known with the light of day: my Saturday morning kickboxing class, which is killer in an excellent way once I get past that whole morning wake up tears business; and Kelley Armstrong (author of The Summoning), coming to the public library nearest me that very same day. Exciting! Apart from local authors or academics, writers whose material I actually enjoy reading rarely do book talks here. Which is really too practical of them, or er, their crumbling publishing houses. Hey now authors! please see: Robert Louis Stevenson and Mark Twain for your daily dose of travel eccentricity. It's not 1888 anymore and you don't need to slow boat it.