Remember when everybody was complaining about how every other show on TV was a western? Probably not -- I'm talking forty plus years ago. I keep forgetting the world grows younger while I grow snarkier. Anywho, today it seems that every other streaming venue is a black magic/zombie show. Americans used to dote on shotting indians and rustling cattle; nowadays we pine for love philters and H.P. Lovecraft bugaboos. O tempora or mores.
Since beginning my career as a savvy reviewer of Netflix drek, I have formulated several rules in order to safeguard my sanity. One of them is that if a Netflix Original has more than one F-bomb in the first five minutes, I move along to bigger and better things.
I counted six F-bombs in the first five minutes of The Order.
So, I have no idea if this series about magic and werewolves and talking magpies (or is that Heckle & Jeckle I'm thinking of?) is any good. I am too old and set in my ways to start listening to F-bombs while I sip my Metamucil.
A TALE OF TWO KITCHENS
This foodie show ends with the stark announcement: "Dedicated to the Latino men & women who grow and cook the food that feeds America."
I watched all of it, licking my chops at several of the dishes that were briefly displayed. But this is really not a cooking show. It's some kind of feel-good about diversity thingy that just happens to take place in two restaurants -- one in Mexico City and the other in San Francisco. There's a lot of good vibes going on in Mexico City, I remember from my several visits there over the years. And San Francisco -- well, that place seceded from the Union a long time ago. You can't get a straight answer from anybody who lives there too long. But the seafood is good. Especially the red snapper.
So if you have a half hour to kill, go ahead and watch this. You won't feel guilty afterwards.
REVISIONS
Anime. Japanese High School kids. They wear uniforms. Those big Margaret Keane eyes. Japanese artists sure are good at backgrounds.
"What exactly is happening?" says one of the characters halfway through the first episode. My question exactly.
But I didn't fall asleep in my recliner during the first episode, so for the sake of untold numbers of Netflix customers everywhere I am steeling myself to watch the second episode.
I just need someone to tell me who the heck "The Oral Cigarettes" are during the credits.
After watching the second episode I've come to the conclusion that I need a bowl of ramen noodles with a wiener sliced up in it and a bit of sauerkraut.
As for Revisions, you could do worse.
THE SOCIETY
Whoever does the programming at Netflix (and I am imagining a cabal of pinheads, with a sprinkling of those nebulous people who are described as 'coming out of the woodwork' during fateful moments) seems bound and determined to make everyone a teenager, or to make them act like a teenager. This is pure Ageism, with a capital A which rhymes with Pay -- and why should I pay 12 bucks a month for this youth-obsessed tripe? Luckily, my daughter lets me use her account for free.
This specimen panders to us with a sex scene during the first five minutes, so I say "Adios muchachos" and ride my prudish steed into the sunset to find something a little less lubricious.
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