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One of my all–time favorite children’s books when growing up was The Lorax. I loved the smooth and satisfying rhythm of its rhyming scheme and the detailed and colorful illustrations. I would turn each page slowly as to drink everything in—and I was fascinated by the story.
When my mom and sister first started binge watching Queer Eye two years ago, I cordially rejected their invitation to join. I found makeover shows to be overrated, and always preferred a fast–paced investigative drama or an Arrested Development–esque comedy sitcom to pass the time. Nonetheless, when I eventually joined them on the couch to tune into a QE episode, I was hooked.
365 Days is one of Netflix’s June releases that has become a big hit these past few weeks, being consistently listed under Netflix’s category “Top 10 in the US Today.” At surface level, 365 Days can be described as an erotic foreign film—its characters are Polish and Italian, though dialogue is mostly in English—that has a large amount of nudity and essentially no character development. But the movie is not simply a harmless raunchy sexual fantasy, it is a perpetuator of unrealistic and, frankly, dangerous societal ideals about women and romantic relationships.
Since I was forcibly evacuated from London due to the coronavirus pandemic, I’ve used a VPN to keep my IP address firmly within the southern borough of Bermondsey, 4,854 miles from my current place of residence in Texas. Following Mubi United Kingdom’s ‘Focus On’ Retrospective in early May, I became fascinated with the streaming service’s spotlighted filmmaker Celine Sciamma, whose style—like that of many of her queer and feminist contemporaries—feels both palpably rebellious and earnest in its exploration of adolescent sexuality.
The month of June usually feels like a time for celebration: the weather is beautiful, the flowers are in full bloom, it’s finally summer vacation. But there is also an official reason to celebrate the month of June— it’s Pride Month, a month dedicated to celebrating the LGBTQIA+ members of the world.
“Law and Order: Special Victims Unit” has long been my favorite TV series. Back at Penn, I’d watch SVU curled up in bed on Friday afternoons, on the treadmill most mornings, and while I did my makeup before a night out. Last fall, I even gave in and purchased a Hulu subscription just so I could have access to all 21 seasons. That's 478 episodes, approximately 320 hours of the police procedural, for those of you keeping score at home. The show follows a cast of NYC detectives charged with handling the city’s most sensitive crimes, such as sexual assault, kidnapping, human trafficking, and domestic abuse.
“The book is good enough on its own,” is a phrase often expressed by frustrated readers when they learn their favorite story is being adapted for film. This was certainly my reaction when I learned Sally Rooney’s 2018 best-selling novel Normal People—beloved for its depth and realism—was released this past April as a short television series for the BBC and Hulu.
Nostalgia is a fickle sentiment to come to terms with. As a nineteen–year–old girl, I am constantly grappling with the dichotomy of wanting to grow out of my teenagerish tendencies, yet still retain any remnants of my childhood. And, the truth is, I barely remember much of this childhood at all. Perhaps this is a side effect of aging in the face of social media— many of my fondest memories are not colored by reading Harry Potter under my comforter, but by watching countless YouTube skits past my bedtime. The constant consumption of content from an early age has prevented much of this content from taking up substantial space in my past.
Chasing a friend throughout the Quad as he attempts to throw himself out the window in the midst of a bad acid trip is never fun. But Gaspar Noé‘s Enter the Void puts any bad trips my friends had at Penn to deep, deep shame. The movie opens up with the death of its main character while he’s high on DMT. As he’s bleeding out, thinking that he’s merely hallucinating, one cannot help but cringe at how utterly awful it must be to get shot while you’re high out of your mind, unable to protect yourself in any meaningful way.
Ever since I started as a student at Penn, I’ve survived finals by watching the British panel show, Would I Lie to You? In the show, two teams of contestants, led by iconic British comedians David Mitchell and Lee Mack, try to catch each other in a lie and win points. It’s game show television at its finest, emphasizing humor and wit over competition. WILTY has always helped distract me during finals season, and watching old clips of it now has me laughing even during the uncertainty of quarantine.
One of my all–time favorite guilty pleasures are what I call “case shows,” television series where every episode deals with a different case—think of police procedurals, the classic The X-Files, where there was a different monster every week, or House M.D., where the titular doctor diagnoses a different patient every episode. I grew up with these shows when they were at their prime, and they were the hallmark of entertainment during my preteen years. Now, since I’ve been at home for weeks, unable to go out or see anyone, these shows have been one of the comforts I’ve come back to.
Everyone knows Penn has noteworthy alumni everywhere from finance and the White House to show business, but less mentioned are its fictional alumni. This includes any fictional character who has mentioned a degree from the University of Pennsylvania as part of their biography. Although slipping in a reference to Penn as a bit of casual world–building is far easier than to actually attend the school in real life, when and how writers choose to do so shows how Hollywood perceives the Red and Blue. And though there are certainly many more existing in television and film, this list boils down the top five, all dominating the small screen, though you'd be hard–pressed to find any of them in an admissions brochure.
As far as motivational mottos go, “We need TV now more than ever” is pretty bleak. But it’s true. We’re social distancing, we’re self–isolating, and we’re working from home. That leaves us with a lot of free time to do whatever, as casual as that sounds. Sure, you can read, or pick up a new hobby, or try to exercise, but we all know what you really want to do is watch Netflix. So, if self–improvement isn’t your thing, here are some ways you can kill time while locked inside. Just don’t watch Contagion.
Gavin O'Connor, C'86, has a thing for sports. Not only was he on Penn's football team back in his salad days, but he's since gone on to direct films like Miracle, about the US hockey team's eponymous "Miracle on Ice" in the 1980 Winter Olympics, and Warrior, in which Tom Hardy and Joel Edgerton portray brother MMA fighters. The greatest departure from O'Connor's groove may be The Accountant, in which he directs Ben Affleck playing an autistic hitman who spends his days as a CPA.
H.G. Wells’ novel The Invisible Man, one of the pillars of science fiction, depicts the world through the eyes of Griffin, a mad scientist who learned how to make himself invisible. He terrorizes a local town with his newfound ability, leading to the destruction of his own sanity and that of those around him.
Disney has claimed to have their first gay characters numerous times, each to varying levels of outwardness, representation, and validity. First, it was LeFou in the live adaptation of Beauty and the Beast who did little more than dance with a man in an ensemble scene at the film’s close. Next, it was through Cyrus Goodman on Andi Mack, who was the first of Disney’s characters to say “I’m gay” on–screen. Now, Disney has garnered headlines again with a character in the upcoming film Onward, voiced by Lena Waithe, who, apparently, is the first out gay character in a Pixar film.
There is no question Portrait of a Lady on Fire is a story for women. Although oppressed by their circumstances, there's joy and courage in the daily lives of our two main characters, Marianne (Noémie Merlant), a French painter, and Héloïse (Adèle Haenel), a bride–to–be who is her subject.
It’s no secret Chilling Adventures of Sabrina is not the Sabrina the Teenage Witch you grew up watching. Sure, she might still be blonde, but Salem can no longer talk and the magic is more demonic than mystical.
Why can’t we stop talking about Sonic the Hedgehog? Almost a year ago, in April of 2019, the movie made headlines after its first trailer. The reason? Its absolutely horrific design for Sonic. His eyes were small and beady, his teeth were shockingly human, and his overall look was so photorealistic that he scarcely resembled the fuzzy, blue hedgehog we have come to love from the original Sega games. Apparently, the dozens of articles on the subject and the public outcry were heard by the producers—just a few days later, they announced that Sonic’s design was to be changed and the movie’s release date postponed.
Star Trek: Picard is an addictive show that stands on its own, despite having roots in previous Star Trek media. It may be less emotional or nostalgic for viewers who are unfamiliar with the other installments of the franchise, but it’s still an independently interesting science fiction mystery. The show clarifies itself as it goes along, setting up the stakes for those with no background in the greater Star Trek universe.
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