But For All Mankind is a different and much better beast. For All MankindĪfter the comparative failures of First Man and The First, hopes weren’t high for yet another story about an astronaut in the 1960s. The dramatic highlight of episode one – and I’m not kidding here – is some people walking gingerly over a bridge. Every idiot animal horn they are made to honk into. Every stupid incantation they are made to chant. It’s so bad that you can physically see the cast squirming at all the dumb stuff they have been asked to do. But it isn’t the show for you, because it is bad. If you’ve ever wanted to see Jason Momoa play a version of himself where he has to feel everything with his hands before he can tell what it is, this is the show for you. Steven Knight’s infinite Rolodex of batshit (most recently: Serenity, in which Anne Hathaway and Matthew McConaughey play characters in a videogame designed by their own abused son) stops at See a sci-fi series about an alternative future where everyone is blind, including a privileged aristocracy that lives in an abandoned factory, listens to old Lou Reed albums and prays via the medium of cunnilingus. Steinfeld is reliably brilliant in the lead, as is Jane Krakowski, who brings the entire spectrum of Fey/Carlock cadences to her role as Dickinson’s mother. True, the script shies away a little from the manic depression and agoraphobia that plagued the poet’s later life in favour of painting her as a spunky teen, but it’s hard to think of a vehicle better suited to deliver her poetry to a new generation. This – not to mention the ballroom dancing sequences soundtracked by I Like Tuh by Carnage – may be enough to horrify many conservative historical scholars, were it not for the fact that Dickinson is actually really good. Total rebel.” Such is the premise of this period drama, in which one of America’s greatest writers rolls her eyes and mutters “this is such bullshit” before it cuts to an opening sequence with a dubstep-a-like soundtrack. Hailee Steinfeld stars as Emily Dickinson, “Poet. In episodes two and three, the show starts to relax, and becomes quite enjoyable. But it guns for this status a little too aggressively in the pilot, opting to focus on themes over character. Everything about The Morning Show – the themes, the set design, the minor key acoustic cover songs – screams of Sorkinesque prestige. Intentionally or otherwise, The Morning Show is basically The Matt Lauer Story, telling the story of an ostensibly lightweight breakfast TV show derailed by accusations of sexual impropriety. First is its powerhouse trio of leads, in the form of Jennifer Aniston, Reese Witherspoon and Steve Carell. The buzziest Apple original so far, The Morning Show benefits from two things.
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