But I should tell you, I'm a really private person
Notes from a frustrating day of computer troubles and about three hours of sleep in forty-five-minute increments. It got much better in the evening when
rushthatspeaks and I made dinner, set up cookies, and watched some television, but I still feel like faceplanting in my keyboard and I have an X-ray in the morning. I can't even see, on LJ, the icon I've chosen for this post. Anyway—
I can't remember why I wanted to see Hedda Gabler at the Huntington Theatre in 2000. I have little affinity for Ibsen outside of A Doll's House (and I wouldn't even realize that until 2008), so I think I must have been interested in Kate Burton. The production had some real problems. She was fine in the title role. The performance I walked away remembering, however, was Michael Emerson's Tesman. Instead of a stuffy pedant who couldn't spare the time to notice his wife's identity crisis, he played the character as a boyish geek absolutely bowled over by this force of nature that had for God knew what reasons consented to marry him, only to find by the end of their honeymoon that they had not a single interest in common. The audience can see her reasons: he's dazzled with her, it's flattering and it makes her feel fondly toward him, even if fondness is not love. But the audience can see with equal clarity why the marriage doesn't stand a chance. Brilliant he may not be, but Tesman lives in his head, an imperviously unworldly combination of easily distractable and easily obsessed—the kind of husband who takes his research on honeymoon with his new wife. By the play's end, he's bonding with Thea Elvsted over the notes left by his academic rival, genuinely dedicated to reconstructing a book that will eclipse his own uninspired contributions to the field. They exit talking excitedly about manuscript order. There was never anything in their lives together that Hedda could talk so enthusiastically to him about.
And so, as happens sometimes, the actor went on my radar immediately; I waited to see what he did next and what he did next was Lost (2004–2010). Not even for Michael Emerson could I bring myself to watch that show. I'm glad he was employed and I don't even slightly regret my decision. But then he was cast in Person of Interest (2011–) and I kept hearing mixed but intriguing things about it and tonight Rush-That-Speaks and I watched the first episode. (We chased it with the first episode of Leverage (2008–2012) and plan to continue this double-feature approach so long as the synchronicity of episodes and seasons supports it.)
I understand that one of the engines of this show is going to be the synergy between Reese and Finch. They have great chemistry of trust and withholding already. Jim Caviezel has a really interesting face and I look forward to finding out what he's like beyond his tragic backstory and his ridiculous deadpan competence ("No, Lionel. He's in the trunk"). Finch has wire-rimmed glasses and three-piece suits and the stiffly canted posture of someone who's had their spine fused (including some of their cervical vertebrae) and vertical Oppenheimer hair and odd vocal rhythms and an even more enigmatic backstory that is clearly one of the series mysteries, complete with moral ambiguity and second thoughts about the ethics of the world-changing instrument he invented for the government and this is like Van Heflin levels of stupidly interesting to me, all right? Dude lives in an abandoned branch library. I can't promise I wouldn't if I had the resources of an eccentric billionaire. At a time in my life when I've had the same migraine for about three days, I really appreciate the universe throwing this sort of thing my way. I may have types, but at least I know about them. Every now and then they get to be protagonists.
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I can't remember why I wanted to see Hedda Gabler at the Huntington Theatre in 2000. I have little affinity for Ibsen outside of A Doll's House (and I wouldn't even realize that until 2008), so I think I must have been interested in Kate Burton. The production had some real problems. She was fine in the title role. The performance I walked away remembering, however, was Michael Emerson's Tesman. Instead of a stuffy pedant who couldn't spare the time to notice his wife's identity crisis, he played the character as a boyish geek absolutely bowled over by this force of nature that had for God knew what reasons consented to marry him, only to find by the end of their honeymoon that they had not a single interest in common. The audience can see her reasons: he's dazzled with her, it's flattering and it makes her feel fondly toward him, even if fondness is not love. But the audience can see with equal clarity why the marriage doesn't stand a chance. Brilliant he may not be, but Tesman lives in his head, an imperviously unworldly combination of easily distractable and easily obsessed—the kind of husband who takes his research on honeymoon with his new wife. By the play's end, he's bonding with Thea Elvsted over the notes left by his academic rival, genuinely dedicated to reconstructing a book that will eclipse his own uninspired contributions to the field. They exit talking excitedly about manuscript order. There was never anything in their lives together that Hedda could talk so enthusiastically to him about.
And so, as happens sometimes, the actor went on my radar immediately; I waited to see what he did next and what he did next was Lost (2004–2010). Not even for Michael Emerson could I bring myself to watch that show. I'm glad he was employed and I don't even slightly regret my decision. But then he was cast in Person of Interest (2011–) and I kept hearing mixed but intriguing things about it and tonight Rush-That-Speaks and I watched the first episode. (We chased it with the first episode of Leverage (2008–2012) and plan to continue this double-feature approach so long as the synchronicity of episodes and seasons supports it.)
I understand that one of the engines of this show is going to be the synergy between Reese and Finch. They have great chemistry of trust and withholding already. Jim Caviezel has a really interesting face and I look forward to finding out what he's like beyond his tragic backstory and his ridiculous deadpan competence ("No, Lionel. He's in the trunk"). Finch has wire-rimmed glasses and three-piece suits and the stiffly canted posture of someone who's had their spine fused (including some of their cervical vertebrae) and vertical Oppenheimer hair and odd vocal rhythms and an even more enigmatic backstory that is clearly one of the series mysteries, complete with moral ambiguity and second thoughts about the ethics of the world-changing instrument he invented for the government and this is like Van Heflin levels of stupidly interesting to me, all right? Dude lives in an abandoned branch library. I can't promise I wouldn't if I had the resources of an eccentric billionaire. At a time in my life when I've had the same migraine for about three days, I really appreciate the universe throwing this sort of thing my way. I may have types, but at least I know about them. Every now and then they get to be protagonists.
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Edited: I missed that you're also starting out on Leverage as well, which is another favorite show! They both hit my love of competency porn, with slightly odd characters who are honourable but a bit muddled with their approach to actual legality, and who are dedicated to making things right for people who have been wronged. Leverage is a bit funnier and heartwarming, and Person of Interest has more mythology and worldbuilding going on, but a lot of my love for both shows comes from the same place. Smart, strangely good people fixing stuff is a thing I love to watch.
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So far, so good! We watched the second episode tonight and I still love it.
Leverage is a bit funnier and heartwarming, and Person of Interest has more mythology and worldbuilding going on, but a lot of my love for both shows comes from the same place. Smart, strangely good people fixing stuff is a thing I love to watch.
That's exactly the reason
[edit] Five episodes in, still loving it.
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Both Person of Interest and Leverage are streaming on Netflix right now. It's why we started watching Person of Interest when we did—we'd been talking about the show for some time, but suddenly it was right there.
I would flail about specifics, but you only get to watch it the first time once, so I won't, but hey, if you ever want to flail over any of it, I'm here.
Thank you! Comments below already contain some enthusiasm.
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I am enjoying both of them very much so far.
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I had almost forgotten about the library (still haven't seen S1 and 2; the library does last into S3). S3, at least, plays nicely with directorial/cinematographic framing (not sure what the right term is) re: shots of parts of the library. Not sure about the fusing of cervical vertebrae specifically--C7/L1/L2 vicinity would make one cautious of moving one's head, too--but there is more to his physical damage than the perpetual limp, and I like that it's not specified within what I've seen.
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I am enjoying Reese, I should point out. I really like what I've seen of Carter and I rather enjoy the way Fusco's life was a lot less of a hassle when he was just a dirty cop. Of the two protagonists, I am just much more interested in Finch.
Not sure about the fusing of cervical vertebrae specifically--C7/L1/L2 vicinity would make one cautious of moving one's head, too--but there is more to his physical damage than the perpetual limp, and I like that it's not specified within what I've seen.
That's fair. The fixed angle at which he holds his head read to me like someone who physically can't move it for fusion or pins or what have you, but it's true it's not a kind of pain I have experience of living with. I don't know the extent of his disabilities, either, but I like that they are a real factor in his life, not just a quirky character shorthand. We watched the second episode tonight, which at one point has Finch encouraging a fugitive teenager to climb out a hotel window and down a fire escape before a hitman comes down the hall after her. With the window halfway up, she asks suddenly, "Are you coming?" and Finch responds with immediate, blank honesty, startled even to be asked: "I can't get through there." He absolutely can't. Not for his life, not for hers, his body doesn't do that. Something else has to happen.
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Yes, one thing (I admit) that PoI does well is real factors that gesture at larger issues in multiple directions.
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Returning with new information: according to the fourth episode of the first season ("Te Cura Ipsum"), Finch did have spinal fusion, and retains some screws or rods in his neck which are visible in X-ray. We see them when he visits a doctor who is both a person of interest and someone who can refill his prescription for pain meds, which he probably isn't lying about needing after unusual physical stress in the preceding episode. So that's part of it, if not all. Not surprisingly, he completely ducks the doctor's suggestion that he come back for a full workup and evaluation.
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He gets up from a chair in S5/02 like someone who has some mobility in C1-3, at least (and I do credit Emerson with acting his way through the disability fairly consistently).
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I am afraid that without rewatching the episode and then looking at a chart for a while, I would not be able to tell you from the X-rays which numbered vertebrae the pins were in. The doctor doesn't read the images for the audience's benefit; they're just on the screen behind her as she asks about the spinal fusion ("Judging from your bone grafts . . . about a year or two ago?") and Finch confirms it. It looked like three sets of metal fairly squarely in the middle of the neck to me. This is why I am not a radiologist.
[edit] I can't believe Googling "person of interest" "finch" "x-ray" worked:
So that's C3–C5? Then your interpretation of his mobility is accurate.
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I have recurring issues in C1/2 and C7, but when C5 has slipped, it's a doozy of a headache, akin for me to what some migraineurs describe, and I am otherwise a power-through-the-pain person (ignore rather than medicate because I like my stomach lining and have enough capacity for ignoring, kinda sorta). Now I feel even more sympathetic for Finch the character....
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You're welcome! It occurred to me that other people might have wanted to settle this question.
I am very impressed with Michael Emerson's physical acting.
Now I feel even more sympathetic for Finch the character....
Asked by the person-of-interest doctor to rate his pain on a scale of one to five, his answer is, "On a good day, three. Today is not a good day."
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I love how noir it is without observing almost a single stylistic convention of the genre or its usual successors. As mentioned to
All the characters and character relationships are delightful, honestly. I've found it exciting to watch the way the show has evolved in different ways over the seasons as it has headed in different directions.
I've loved the first four episodes and am doing my best to be patient about getting to the rest of the show. It could go all sorts of directions—I'm fairly sure I know the science fiction angle (if Finch really built a system capable of learning on its own time, then at some point either it's going to wake up or we'll find out it already has), but I can't tell where Carter's plot is heading, or Fusco's for that matter. I'm enjoying the way they seem to exist, at the moment, in slightly different adjacent genres from either Reese or Finch. Carter's in a police procedural with political stakes; Fusco's just stuck in a really scuzzy neo-noir. I mean, he has Sinaloan cartels on his case. Nobody else in this show has Sinaloan cartels. And a kid he plays street hockey with, which doesn't necessarily mean he's redeemable, although I think it would be fun. Already the show is doing some interesting refutations of its intrinsic cynicism: Reese in five-year-old flashback tells Jessica, "In the end, we're all alone. And no one's coming to save you," and not only does she not believe him at the time, Finch proves him wrong in the present day—the last job with Latimer's gang is a trap, so Finch goes out in person and warns him, at the risk of his own life and attracting the attention of the NYPD (not to mention racking up his back). They have now saved each other at least once. Finch did push-ups because Reese told him to get some exercise. They are already changing each other's lives. The emotional hook on this show is great.
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Yeah, I think the most delightful thing is how it captures the paranoia and unease of noir - the feeling of something shadowy and not-quite-right always waiting to be discovered - without the rain puddles and venetian blind shadows and tense train scenes. (Though I do love those things in classic film noir and Lynch-ian neo-noir, too.) There's all the conspiracies and double-crossing that I love, but with a solid grounding in the dystopian sf-nal elements of the present day.
I also found it reminiscent of Batman and The X-Files, but without the garbled nonsense that eventually turned me off those properties.
They are already changing each other's lives. The emotional hook on this show is great.
I love that! Some of my favourite moments in season four, which I recently watched, came about because of how all the characters had changed each other.
Some character storylines I'm ultimately ambivalent about (especially some of the stuff they do with Carter which I enjoyed but also had some implications I didn't like) but it's head and tails above a lot of recent sf/f I've loved, I have to say.
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* Long-running adventure serials often have this issue. The antagonists have to keep upping the stakes. The protagonists are never allowed to permanently defeat all the bad guys. Hence, despite (or possibly because of?) the protagonists' efforts, the world gets more depressing over time.
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Since the world of Person of Interest is the contemporary American surveillance state, I have to say I find it pretty depressing to start with. It premises a dystopia we live in already. The fantasy is the notion of all that government-tracked information going to a machine with a back door that can save people's lives, not just infringing rights of privacy or being filed meaninglessly away.
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I started tracking it sometime in the second season, I think, when the science fiction elements started to become more overt; now that it's cited regularly in discussions of artificial intelligence in fiction, I really had no excuse.
(I'm looking forward to seeing how the two characters from the pilot who look like supporting cast will intersect with the plot, too. Especially since one of them is obviously interesting—Carter—but one of them looked like one-shot local color—Fusco—and I suspect he only wishes that were true.)
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Yeah, I can't wait to see that.
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IT ME.
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Aw.
(I think your emotional intelligence is much better than Tesman's!)
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The Huntington is dpin A Doll's House next January! No idea who they'll cast...
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Oh, man, their Kristine and their Krogstad had better be good!
(I first saw them played by Anna Massey and Denholm Elliott in Patrick Garland's 1973 film, so my standards are very high, but I really care about that plotline.)
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I've never seen any episodes of Lost, but what set you against it?
I don't know the plot of Hedda Gabler, but I'm glad that the performance you saw made the husband, whom I guess is the antagonist(?), a not unsympathetic character. A person can be an antagonist in someone's life without being dislikable.
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I can see that being a turn-off, yes. So far they have mostly been morally ambiguous and altruistic, which is a combination I am quite happy with.
I think I know the character you mean, though, and yes! I can see his appeal.
So far I am especially enjoying how Reese and Finch have different kinds of intricately expressive deadpan—Finch always looks a little startled by everything, which is only occasionally true—and the fact that whenever Finch goes out into the field himself, all of his deceptions are based on appearing mild-mannered to the point of invisibility and then, if you should happen to notice him, as though he could spontaneously generate a stack of forms to be filled out in triplicate just by saying "hello."
I've never seen any episodes of Lost, but what set you against it?
It sounded incredibly stupid! Nothing that anyone ever told me about the show while it was airing made it sound interesting beyond the obvious series mystery of why all the characters were on the same island together, and then about a month ago
A person can be an antagonist in someone's life without being dislikable.
Yes! Tesman is more of an impediment than an antagonist, but the audience is not directed to dislike him or consider him the cause of all of Hedda's problems. He's a bad match for her, but it's an open question what a good one would have looked like—it's not the academically brilliant, romantically unstable Eilert Løvborg, even though he and Hedda have history together. And just as you decide that Tesman is the kind of person who shouldn't marry anyone, being unable to get his head out of his books for long enough to notice the existence of other human beings, he and Thea click such that, if you can't imagine them as a couple, it's a cinch that they'll make great research partners and maybe that's even better. I can still talk about him sixteen years later. I never expected that from reading the play.