This Week in Apocalypse Video--Gomorrah

You have to credit the chutzpah of guys who run around killing everybody and then cross themselves, hoping that no one returns the favor. Of course, kiss your crucifix before you murder a little girl. That's the only way, of course.

You don't expect these things. That doesn't necessarily mean you'll be entirely on board for Gomorrah, streaming on HBO Max in either Italian or English--your choice. Highly sensitive types need not apply.

A friend of mine from Italy tells me he's never seen this show, but that it's the offspring of a film of a book describing the crime scene in Naples. Evidently the book was so offensive to some that the author is now living under protection somewhere. I haven't seen the film yet, so this is about the show.  I've watched the first season.

Imagine The Sopranos, but largely devoid of humor. Imagine a boss who has none of Tony's endearing idiosyncrasies.  Imagine his cruelty as a constant, rather than something that pops out when he loses his composure, or when he's stricken by an inexplicable whim. Imagine the corners in The Wire, set in Naples, rather than Baltimore. There you've got a snapshot of Gomorrah.

This show revels in violence. Someone I'd anticipated as a key character was dead by episode 2. And death is just an everyday occurence. There are no apologies, no Godfather-style rationalizations of only business, not personal. There's little romanticism or noble gestures. In fact, there is no particular wisdom attached to Don Pietro, or any of the crime bosses. For them, it's just hang tough, be tougher than the next guy, and their word of honor is no more reliable than the support NYC teachers get from Richard Carranza's DOE.

I'd originally compared his son Gennaro to AJ, Tony Soprano's son, but older, and in a position to take over. Of course, Gennaro, like AJ, has led a privileged life, and starts out in no way prepared to handle Don Pietro's brutal business. Unlike Tony Soprano, Don Pietro couldn't care less how unqualified his son is, and sees him as eventual boss no matter what. Don Pietro is king, his offspring will rule, and that's it thank you very much. Gennaro's character develops, but I don't find myself liking him very much.

Gennaro's character lacks charm. He has little capacity for introspection beyond reptilian desire.  In these respects, he's a lot more like Donald Trump than AJ. Who cares what my advancement costs, or who I step over to get there? Who cares how many hundreds of thousands drop dead from a pandemic? I'm okay, that should be good enough for anyone, and let's keep working on Making My Crime Syndicate Great Again. 

For part of the series, Don Pietro is out of commission, and Ciro, "The Immortal," is actually running the day to day affairs of the gang. T.  I'm not clear where he originally got the name, but he survives various improbable situations, and earns the title. He's not quite Omar in The Wire, but close to it. For reasons that elude me, he's fond of Genaro. He props him up in the eyes of his father, and pays for it in one of the most stomach-turning scenes of the series, and the competition for that title is pretty stiff. 

Ciro is ambitious, but faces  competition everywhere he turns. Lady Imma, Gennaro's mom, appears to be a doting housewife at first. But in the absence of husband Don Pietro, she looks at everything and makes her own decisions. It's a man's world in Gomorrah, and it's not easy for a woman to take charge. But as usual, brain triumphs over brawn, and Ciro's path is not clear at all. Lady Imma manages to look evil while walking with a priest to introduce a statue of the Madonna.

Much of Gomorrah seems to take place in the darkness. If Ciro's out during daylight, he's wearing sunglasses, and if it isn't night yet, most scenes seem to be indoors. Daylight is for riding around on motorbikes and murdering your enemies with machine guns. It's easier to pick them out that way. Darkness is almost a character here. You feel it in every scene and situation. No one seems to have any fun except for Gennaro's idiot friends when they him how wonderful they think he is. 

This show isn't for everyone. You won't find yourself identifying with these characters, and you won't find any lovable villains. I'm hooked on it nonetheless. European video doesn't seem to have the need to be as optimistic as what we see in the USA. Maybe they weren't raised on Disney, and maybe that's ultimately for the better. There are two more seasons available in Europe, and I understand they're coming to HBO Max sooner or later.

This Week in Apocalypse Video--Queen's Gambit

Perhaps you, like me, don't jump up and down or get unduly excited over chess. So you might not expect a miniseries with chess at its center is something you want to get involved with. But Queen's Gambit is something more than that, and you won't be able to take your eyes off actress Anya Taylor-Joy. She's mostly absent from the first episode, but the brief glimpse of her in the first scene gives a good clue to the series' eventual focus.

Fortunately, the younger version of her, actress Isla Johnston, somehow manages to be just as compelling as her adult counterpart. Orphaned at a young age, Beth Harmon is brought to an orphanage with some curious practices, the oddest of which is the jelly bean jar full of tranquilizers with which they daily sedate the girls. (Would that make teaching easier too?) Young Beth learns to love Librium, and what could be better for a kid than setting up lifelong addictions at a young age? Thank goodness for the charitable institutions that make America what it is.

The teachers at this orphanage are barely relevant. As important as we fancy ourselves, we're not always the instruments of change we want to be. In this case, it's the custodian who turns out to inspire and challenge young Beth. She stumbles upon him practicing chess in the basement and is instantly fixated on the board. At first he wants nothing to do with her but she prevails upon him. Actor Bill Camp, with few scenes and  fewer words, establishes himself as the most pivotal and influential character in Beth's young life.

Beth is adopted by a couple that reflects some of her own qualities both good and bad--a taciturn dad who likes to read the paper and neglect those around him, and a talented mom who adores alcohol in all its shapes and forms. We learn along with Beth that a martini with an onion instead of an olive is a Gibson, and hey, what's better than compounding your tranquilizer addiction with alcohol? I still can't fathom how Beth manages to play chess better with the help of Librium. (A doctor once prescribed me Valium, and the only thing I did well under its influence was sleep.)

We see politics creep into the chess world at odd moments. It's not cheap traveling around the world to go to chess tournaments. When Beth is trying to figure out how to pay for a Russian trip, a Christian group that had been supporting her offers to help. They ask her to condemn Russia as an atheist state. Beth turns them down and gives all their money back. When she calls the State Department, they decline to help her financially but send some guy to Russia with her. He also asks her to condemn the Soviets.

The importance of family is explored throughout. Who is your family? Is it the people who share your blood, the people with whom you share your time, or the people on whom you can depend? Beth's adoptive mother is supportive of her, to an extent, but at the same time a beneficiary of Beth's spectacular talent. Her adoptive father is pretty creepy, almost a caricature of an indifferent male. Her friends, though, show great loyalty and support, helping her at key moments. This, evidently, is the kind of support the Soviets lent to chess players, and that's a quality Beth learns to respect and appreciate.

There are, of course, weak moments. Beth is roused from a particularly intense bender to find she has an upcoming competition. She walks into the building looking like Svengoolie. There's no explanation why the generally fashion-conscious Beth decides to paint herself as though she's just been subject to an autopsy. Without giving anything away, the conclusion was a little pat and predictable for such a complex tale.

A good feature of Queen's Gambit is that it's listed as a limited series. I'm hopeful that means there is no Son of Queen's Gambit in the works. The fact that this has a beginning and an end makes it all the better. Streaming on Netflix, don't miss this.

This Week in Apocalypse Video--David Byrne's American Utopia

I don't know about you, but I really miss Broadway. I know I won't be seeing it until at least sometime next summer. If you miss theater, this is the closest you'll get for quite some time If you love music, you will love this. If you love people, you will love this. It's filmed by Spike Lee, and he does a remarkable job of catching things you'd miss even from a front row orchestra seat.

Byrne starts out simply. He intersperses the songs with bits of dialogue. He tells us the things that most attracts our eyes are other people. We certainly see people on the largely bare stage. He's got a hugely talented band, collected from all over America, North and South. Byrne's interest in Latin American music is longstanding, and the half-dozen percussionists he's gathered on the stage reflect it.

You'll be drawn to this band, obviously enjoying every moment on this stage. You won't be able to take your eyes off of the joyous female backup singer, and director Spike Lee turns to her repeatedly just in case. In fact, you see a whole lot more here than you'd see if you were in the theater. (The keyboard player looks suspiciously like Mike Mulgrew, but I doubt he's moonlighting as a musician these days.)

You see the play from multiple angles, and quote often you're shown the performers' perspective of the audience. It's remarkable to see all three levels of the theater from the stage, and it's even more remarkable to see a Broadway audience so obviously involved with the show. One advantage that audience might have on home viewers is they're constantly on their feet. Aside from when I've been to performances almost entirely populated by NYC students, I've not seen audiences so physically enthralled by a performance. 

While I wasn't a follower of Talking Heads, I'm familiar with their big hits. They alternate with newer and different songs, but there's palpable excitement when Byrne plays hits. This band does everything well, including a nonsense lyric from Dada. The choreography is really impressive. At 68, Byrne has more energy than most people half his age.

Here's a memorable lyric:

Every day is a miracle. Every day is an unpaid bill.

You owe it to yourself to be happy. Byrne's Utopia is all about showing you how to do that. But Byrne's Utopia is in his mind and on his stage. He knows how far we are from it. He takes a moment to tell of how he was out trying to get people to pledge to vote. He has some organization in the theater ready to register audience members to vote, no matter which state they're from.

And when Byrne decides to give a direct message about BLM, he does it in a way that's unforgettable aurally and visually. Byrne heard Janelle Monae sing a song at the Women's March in 2017, and asked for her permission to perform it. How would she feel about a white man singing this song? She was thrilled and you will be too when you see it. Why are people of color being murdered on American streets? If you still aren't sure what Black Lives Matter is about, Byrne and have not only chapter and verse, but also photos. In stark contrast with the nominal leader of our country, Byrne says he himself can get better.

He follows that with a song of hope, calling America a work in progress. We won't know much about American progress until at least November 4th. But if you need something hopeful to hang your hat on for a little while, this is it. You'll be right there as Byrne marches the band out into the audience, and out into the New York streets on bicycles. 

You deserve a diversion. If you haven't got HBO, Try a free trial.  If you don't like it, I'll refund your money.