EPISODE 235: ONLY CONNECT

POP CULTURE SPIRIT WOW

The beginning of the fall TV season is sort of like Christmas meets the first day of school. You’re excited to finally get to open the presents that have been sitting there in shiny wrapping advertising at you for the last three months. “Another show with space ships? Cool!”

And at the same time it’s okay if they’re all video game cartridges you already have, toys that break the first day and underpants (my uncle literally once bought me colored underpants for Christmas; and he was serious; and yes they were briefs; and even now writing this I’m super uncomfortable about it).

Because even if everything new is the worst, you’re still finally going to get to catch up with the cool kids you haven’t seen since May.

I don’t know about you, but for me the last few years it’s been all about those cool kids. Part of that’s because the whole concept of the “start of fall season” has kind of fallen off a cliff. The Good Place started its second season Wednesday. A lot of network shows are beginning next week. American Horror Story: Because You Keep Watching It began in like August, I think (shocker: it’s still not good). CW starts in...October? And cable shows today start pretty much whenever they feel like it. We spit on you and your bourgeoise 80s concepts of “season”, “fall” and “TV”.

So yeah, I’m looking forward to hanging out with Kristin Bell and Ted Danson and their crazy upside down afterlife. Also, I know for some reason everyone is over Modern Family (you’ve won too many awards, we can’t watch you any more), I watched the end of last season just this last weekend and you know what, yes Cam and Mitchell really need to figure things out (brothers, grow, for your daughter and our sanity if not yourselves) but other than that it’s all still pretty wonderful pretty often. #TeamJay

I’m also not at all ashamed to say I’ve missed my friend Meredith Grey. I absolutely quit on her and her doctor friends about three years ago, mostly because Callie and Arizona also would not figure themselves out. (Spinoff pitch: Cam and Mitchell and Callie and Arizona in a duplex; it’s Three’s Company with two couples and Norman Fell.)

But then I checked back a year later and I was shocked at how much I liked it. Newer cast members have really grown into their roles, the storylines are compelling, and while the show will never be hot and heavy early Grey’s, it has found a second life as something else. Sassy ER. Plus it has Bailey. #TeamBailey

(Spinoff pitch: Jay Pritchett and Doctor Bailey in a one hour drama about hospital administration. Think Lou Grant in a poor hospital with a struggling administration and a former business owner brought in to oversee the bottom line.)

++

The other great part about the fall season is weighing up and riffing on the favorites with friends. I mean that seriously – who doesn’t love an article about the fall season? Or spending way too much talking about last season’s cliffhanger three days before we finally find out what the deal with Old Man Rick is? (Spoiler: It’s not anywhere near as big a deal as we’re hearing. And forget the internet, Glen and Maggie’s baby is just fine.)

So my friend Grant and I were texting a couple weeks ago about the finale of Twin Peaks, which exceeded all expectations – imagine a show that instead of giving any sort of satisfying ending spends its last hour building out a whole different universe that it doesn’t explain and cuts to black on a cliffhanger when there’s no next season to come AND YET somehow it seems perfect and satisfying and emotional.

That was the whole season of Twin Peaks, really – a strange impossibility realized.

And Grant is this brilliantly funny, quick, hip to pop culture guy. (In other words, awful. Just awful.) But he had such great things to say about television, I thought it might be fun to get his take on the upcoming TV season.

What I got was a fantastic tirade on the new CBS Star Trek show that was somehow also a love letter to the show; comments about Twin Peaks that even if you haven’t seen the show still have so much to say about this crazy life we’re all trying to live; and an explanation of why pop culture is important better than anything you’ve read here.

Seriously, he is the worst. Enjoy.

1) As we look into the new fall season, what sounds interesting to you? What are you looking forward to and/or already resenting? (Me: No worries, CBS, it's totally fine none of your new shows have female leads. I mean, half the world is men, right?)
Jim, I’m afraid you’re forgetting the centerpiece of CBS’s digital strategy, Star Trek: Discovery. The latest incarnation of Trek, as you may know, has at least one female lead, Sonequa Martin-Green, who we last saw doing the zombie shuffle on AMC’s The Walking Negan, or whatever it’s called. I have been and ever shall be a Trekkie (call me a Trekker and I will cut you), so I am genetically predisposed to do whatever one must do in order to actually watch this show.

Evidently the first one is free, and will air on CBS tee-vee on Sept. 24. The rest, however, must be paid for via CBS All Access. Want to watch some commercials with your Trek? That will run you $5.99 a month. Or can pay more to skip them. You can also pay annually. Oh, and if you have Showtime you might be able to get a discount, or if you have CBS Access and want to add Showtime, than can also be done on the cheap, if you, I don’t know, sign up via Netscape under the blood moon (seriously, check out the FAQ). Expect CBS to pull a Netflix and stay mum about actual streaming viewers, unless they are overwhelmingly high, which they could be, but then again, blood moon discount.

I am both looking forward to this show and resenting it. When it was announced, I could hardly have been more excited for a Trek project. Known Trek fan and gifted writer and show-runner Bryan Fuller originally developed the show for CBS. He had just come off of the Twin Peaks of the current era of TV, Hannibal, a critical favorite that never found an audience large enough for network executives to keep it around for more than three seasons. One of Fuller’s first hires was Nicholas Meyer, who basically saved Trek following the somnambulant Motion Picture by directing (and writing, muchly, sans credit) the best Trek film that will ever be: The Wrath of Kahn.

[Editor’s note: It’s actually The Wrath of Khan, but the idea of the cast of Star Trek having to face off against a furious Madeline Kahn made me so happy I couldn’t correct it.]

Meyer also had a hand in Treks III (Search for Spock) and IV (the one with the whales), and of course the original crew’s swan song, VI (The Undiscovered Country). Pretty much a Trek dream team.

But then Fuller got attached to the Starz adaptation of Neil Gaiman’s American Gods. He was going to try running both shows, but the writing was on the wall, and before long the dreaded “creative differences” press release went out, and now I understand he’s shortlisted for the inevitable breakup between Ron Howard and Lucasfilm, once the latter learns that the Han Solo film is a “spiritual sequel” to Cocoon.

Meyer stayed, which is comforting (and, rumor has it, is working on a limited series about Khan, so know hope), but this production has taken a long time getting off the ground (I believe it was supposed to premiere last fall), and now CBS has barred critics from reviewing the show before it begins airing. It wasn’t a good sign for The Dark Tower, and it certainly isn’t a good sign for a 15-hour TV series.

[Editor’s Note: I just finished reading the Dark Tower series, and let me tell you, if you have any interest in that story at all, you should absolutely ignore everything that has to do with that movie. It is like a sequel to Harry Potter where Snape no longer dies and Hedwig is now without explanation a bear.]

What we do know about Discovery doesn’t make me feel any less worried. Sonequa Martin-Green’s character was apparently raised by Spock’s parents, so set your retcon to stun. As everyone this side of the Neutral Zone has already pointed out: the last time we were faced with a surprise half-sibling of Spock’s was Star Trek V, and that didn’t exactly go swimmingly (What does God need with a starship, indeed).

Others have noted that even though this voyage takes place ten years before Kirk and company set out on the Enterprise, and in the prime, not the J. J. Abrams, timeline (the one with two Spocks, now one, and no Vulcan), the tech looks mighty spiffy. That doesn’t bother me. But do I want to watch a show that attempts to innovate while fitting everything, jigsaw-like, into the Trek canon? Could [it] devolve into fan service of the worst kind (yes, the Tribbles will make an appearance), and why would I want to pay for that?

But I am keeping a candle lit for this production because the cast is superb. Who knows how many of their characters will survive, but just look at this talent: Sonequa Martin-Green, Michelle Yeoh, Jason Isaacs, Anthony Rapp, Rainn Wilson, and many, many more. If they gel as a cast, and if the series leans into the ideas that made Star Trek great (less the “no money in space?!” and more the “how do we negotiate difference in a universe that’s full of it?”), I’ll probably stick around for the duration.

2) What would you say is the state of things pop culture-wise right now? What are the trends that you like, and those you wish we never had to speak of again?
I have a one-word answer: revivals. It was the best of times: Twin Peaks. It was the worst: Heroes Reborn? Fuller House? The X-Files revival’s mythology episodes? Take your pick. (I’m sticking to TV here, but the problem is not confined to the smaller screen; I know a lot of folks who thought The Force Awakens did not add up to more than the sum of its nostalgic parts. But hey, definitely looking forward to Sony’s fourth Spider-Man reboot in 2020.) I understand the allure: pent-up demand, built-in audience. Who can resist nostalgia’s gravity? Actually, I have a two-word answer to that question and it is David Lynch. About which more in a moment.

3) What are some of the pop culture stories or characters that have most spoken to you, and why?
You’re probably wondering how it took me this long to get to Twin Peaks. Denial, brother. Denial. Twin Peaks: The Return—or, as it will be known in its home video release in December, The Third Season—was, for me, the pop culture story of the year, possibly the decade. Or longer. After the 2005 White Sox World Series victory, the return of Twin Peaks is the only other thing I could say I had waited most of my life for.

Lynch and Frost managed to speak directly to my junior-high mind’s growing apprehension that life was not always sensible. I was starting to experience loss in a deep way, which traditionally leads to a series of uncomfortable questions, most of which begin with Why?

Example: A friend of mine complained on Facebook: “If the whole series had been the last two episodes, I would have loved it,” he wrote. “Instead the 16 hours of bad acting, poor editing, and ridiculous—ultimately inconsequential subplots was beyond absurd,” he continued, building to a crescendo: “It felt meaningless.” To which I replied, “Welcome to life, bro.”

Now, do I think that life is ultimately meaningless? No. And I say that as someone who has not seen the White Sox touch playoff success in a serious way for twelve horrible years. But do I believe the third season of Twin Peaks fails creatively because it does not assemble its various parts neatly for the viewer in a way that spells Significant Meaning That Provides the Comfort of Closure? No. No I do not.

When was the last time a TV series left you with no idea what to expect next? Really none. One moment you’re watching Bad Coop get (spoiler alert) shot then resurrected by a gaggle of translucent sooty hobos--

[Ed. note: This is an almost exact description of what happened mid-season of Peaks. And again, amazing.]

-- then next you flash back to the first test of the atomic bomb and the birth of a new form of evil. Has something like that happened outside of Twin Peaks? In that way it too imitates life. Generative of its own absurdity. Stubbornly resisting the principle of completion. Instead, it seems that Lynch wants us to think about how time both creates and stymies nostalgia. This is richer than anything else I have seen on TV in a long time (and I really, really admired the final season of The Leftovers, which deserved Emmy love).

4) If you were going to explain what pop culture is and why it's important to the aliens that are almost certainly coming to destroy us, how would you do it? (Put another way: Why are you so into pop culture? What about it speaks to you?)
My first, and only other, job out of grad school was at Commonweal Magazine, as you know, that brilliantly edited biweekly journal of religion, politics, and culture. [Editor's Note: Never heard of it. Is it still being published?]

Before I found a place to live, I had my mail sent to the offices. This included my subscription to Entertainment Weekly, for which I would lie in wait every week to grab it before my colleagues saw just how shallow I really was. Of course I was 24, and that was dumb. Shakespeare was a pretty big draw in his day. Dickens was popular too. Mozart: huge on the tour circuit.

So what’s differentiates high culture from low culture—the price of admission? Showtime cost me ten bucks a month. Lookingglass Theatre Company’s (wonderful) production of Moby-Dick, much more. [Editor’s Note: Grant receives all the points for that hyphen.] What distinguishes that from pop culture, exactly? The price of admission? I find this distinction decreasingly meaningful.

So, when our alien overlords inevitably come to me for an explanation of pop culture, I would probably lean on a cliché like, “It’s the place where we tell one another stories.” I might go on to say that it’s one way human beings reach for meaning, or, to quote E. M. Forster: “Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its highest. Live in fragments no longer.”

I might lop off the last bit, actually, because fragments are my jam (see Peaks, Twin). Still, only connect. I find myself in awe of some popular culture. I would include the traveling Kerry James Marshall exhibit Mastry in that category. (He might not.) I found it challenging, revealing, and existentially discomfiting (about the nature of the art scene broadly, U.S. culture specifically, and our nation’s original, continuing sin--racism). I would also include Breaking Bad. And Ron Moore’s Battlestar Galactica reboot. I’m no art critic, and I wouldn’t presume to define art, but what do I hope to experience from encountering art? Well, I don’t want answers packaged in smartly wrapped packages. I do want help asking better questions.

5) You've made a career of thinking and writing about and for the Catholic Church. What's up with that? :)

Seriously, what would be a few things you've learned along the way? And do you find pop culture and spirituality or religion are interconnected?
And so, it has come to this. Rather that provide a full, original answer to your question, I have just linked to myself. It’s late in the day, and we have miles to go, before we weep. Is it weep? Anyway, that short piece, the last I wrote as an editor at Commonweal magazine, probably contains most of the answers to your question. At least the what’s-up-with-that part.

Practicing journalism should teach humility. It’s work that constantly reinforces our own limitations as observers and knowers—how can we approach the truth of something or someone? Of course, when you break a big story, land a good get, pride can swell. But you always know you haven’t re-presented reality in its fullness. You always know you’ve missed something. And that ought to make you cautious, not cowardly, and brave, but not foolhardy. We’re just reaching, after all, approaching, we hope, something true. I’m not sure I always conduct myself in a way that evinces my having learned those lessons, but I try, with varying degrees of success.

Pop culture and spirituality—together at last? You don’t need me to tell you that creating and experiencing art is, finally, a spiritual experience. Take it from Susan Sontag: “Art is a form of nourishment (of consciousness, the spirit).” Most of the experiences that I would describe as authentically “spiritual,” or liminal, the unmistakable sensation of touching or at least perceiving something beyond oneself (whether or not one regards that as divine, or even supernatural), have been in the presence of art.

Yes, some of that art has been religious. I mean, you’ve seen a Caravaggio up close. And what are you doing with your life? Good art indicts too. You know the central story of Christianity. That too has interrogated me. Helped me to understand better, or even more minimally to experience the sensation of, the awesome relationships of creation.

This is the point when I say thanks for tolerating my derivative account of Pop Culture in the Age of the Fidgetspinner. And goodnight.

Grant Gallicho currently works as the Director of Publications and Media for the Archdiocese of Chicago. He spent much of the last twenty years writing for Commonweal Magazine about pretty much everything. Start with that piece he linked to, which tells some great stories growing up Catholic and working for the Church; it’s beautiful.

He’s a White Sox fan, a brilliant writer, and I envy him enormously. You can follow him on Twitter at @gallicho.

++ LINKS ++

Harry Dean Stanton died last week. He was in a lot of David Lynch films and a lot of other things. And he was a real philosopher of life, too. In an interview with Esquire in 2009 he said, “Everyone wants an answer. I think it was Gertrude Stein who wrote, "There is no answer, there never was an answer, there'll never be an answer. That's the answer." It's a hard sell, but that's the ultimate truth.”

He also said: “Awareness is its own action.”

“No, I'm not curious about anything. I'm just letting it all happen.”

And finally: “Ten seconds from now you don't know what you're gonna say or think. So who's in charge?”

The whole interview is just sentences like that from Stanton. A great piece.

Warren Ellis has a brilliant idea for a post-death internet; forget Littlefinger, Tyrion Lannister is responsible for pretty much everything that has happened on Game of Thrones (AKA it’s a few weeks since GOT left the air and we’re jonesing hard at Mashable for clicks so someone find something else to say NOW, check Reddit); and before Cassini crashed into Saturn it took this photo that somehow encapsulates all of my sad feelings.

Lastly, if you liked any of the crazy “What if every movie had to insert its title into its dialogue” art I’ve used today, you need to check out the Titular Lines twitter feed. It is amazing.

My personal favorite:

I knew there was something wrong with that movie's ending.

I’m away next week working on a story for America and learning a ton about the real Northern California. But I’ll be back the week after with some cool stuff about Star Trek.

Stay rooted in the ground that’s feeding you. Otherwise let it happen. Ten seconds from now you don't know what you're gonna say or think. So who's in charge?