Reel Rambles

A Column by Yael Turitz

About The Column


A bi-weekly entertainment column, where I review TV shows and movies as well as give run downs and personal opinions on the current happenings in the pop culture world.

About The Author


Yael Turitz

Columnist

Yael Turitz (BC ’19) hails from Silver Spring, Maryland, but has always considered herself a citizen of the magical world of Hollywood. She is studying Religion and Education, and dreams of simultaneously inspiring young Jewish minds and winning an Oscar for the next greatest screenplay. She’s not technically qualified to critique entertainment, but she’ll offer her opinion to you anyway because she’s just that kind of gal. Take it or leave it, but this column will provide you with the most deep, thoughtful, and hilarious entertainment commentary you’ve ever experienced.

Yael’s Posts


Well, friends, it’s been a hell of a week. Last Thursday, I accidentally scheduled two super important meetings for the same time and had to reschedule. On Friday, I lost my wallet and found myself stranded at a downtown grocery store with bags of chicken I could no longer pay for. Add all that to the typical CU/BC student stress-level and I’m sure you can imagine how I was feeling on Sunday, when I finally sat down to watch my beloved Jane the Virgin.

[If you’re a fan of Jane’s (as well you should be) and have not yet watched the past two episodes, stop reading now. I repeat: MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD.]

For those of you who did watch, though, you’ll know that last week, the evil writers of television’s smartest comedy killed off Michael, Jane’s beloved, wonderful, sweet, cute, all-around-amazing husband. They were married for all of a few months, after they finally got back together at the end of last season and he survived a gunshot to the chest. And then, this happened.

I waited for the next week’s episode to cast judgement. Despite my heartbreak (and I’m talking literal crying on the subway), I still had hope that Jane the Virgin’s smart, funny writers wouldn’t let me down. The show had always been a satire of a telenovela, so I figured they might use this plot twist in a satirical, funny way to revamp the show’s lighthearted nature. (Of course, this was after I read countless interviews with the producer which assured me Michael was actually dead, because for a long time I was really hoping this was all just some kind of sick joke).

So, last Sunday, I turned on my computer, hoping desperately for another lighthearted episode to put me in a better mood. But I was disappointed. Instead, it was three years later, and Jane suddenly had a new life with her son Mateo and her baby daddy Rafael. Michael was gone, Jane was fine, Mateo was fine, Rafael was fine– everyone was FREAKIN’ FINE. And here I was, staring at the screen helplessly, desperately crying for Michael to come on screen and remind everyone that it was NOT FINE. The show had lost its sweetest, most genuine character, and they thought they could just move on? Skip ahead three years as if their fans weren’t still reeling from the loss of their number one guy?

Now, maybe I’m a little bit more invested than your average TV watcher. From day one, I’d always been Team Michael (Rafael is hot and all, but he was no match for Michael’s love for Jane). He made me cry, he made me laugh, and he felt so genuine that I found myself falling in love with him too. I saw traits in him I see in the people I love in real life, and in the hilarious but non-believable satire that was Jane the Virgin, he often felt like the only real person on the show. He had faults, but they weren’t overly dramatic, like the embezzlement cases Rafael was swept up in, or the premise that Jane was accidentally artificially inseminated. Michael was a normal guy, desperately in love with a woman, living a normal life.

As I watched this week’s episode, my heart ached for the one vein of normalcy I had experienced in this show. I cried for Jane’s sorrow, but I also cried because I felt the show had lost something– and I fear it’s something they can never get back.

The Must-Binge List: This week, I encourage you to watch Amazon’s new original series, Z: The Beginning of Everything. It’s a show about F.Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald and their epic and completely insane love story. Christina Ricci is fantastic as Zelda– she’ll catch your ear with her electrifying Southern accent and hold your attention with her dazzling performance of the emotionally torn and conflicted woman who tried desperately to hold the attention of one of the greatest writers in our time. David Hoflin’s F. Scott has some trouble holding his own against Ricci, but when she’s on screen, who needs him anyway? Booze, dancing, and sexual exploits galore, this show is definitely worth your time. My grade: A-

 

Photo Courtesy of CNN Money

I was born to love film.

I was raised by a family who lived and breathed entertainment. My uncle is a movie producer, my cousin a stage manager on Broadway. My grandfather, a seventy-five year old man, has overflowing DVD piles of every Disney film, Oscar-winning movie, musical, and Olympic-record-setting video that ever aired on TV. My mother stays up until 2am every night watching her TV shows (she can compete with any binge-driven college student). The entertainment industry is an unspoken staple of my family.

So, naturally, television has always been a huge part of my life. As much as my father tried to enforce TV limits, I knew from a young age that “one hour of teletubbies” meant at least two when Mom was home. Some people blast me for watching so much television, but I know I always have my family on my side, and nothing is as stimulating nor as intellectually thrilling to me.

As I grew up, I slowly became the Roger Ebert of my friend group. I (whether asked or not) would tell my friends which movies to see, which actors deserved the Oscar, which television show was an overly dramatic waste of time. My past and current boyfriends have all gone through a “movie-education,” and I have never missed an awards ceremony (even when I was on the other side of the world and had to wake up at 2am and surf the web for hours before I found a live stream). I’m pretty darn serious about this stuff.

But enough about me. All of this was an introduction of sorts, a drawn out way for me to prove to you that I am indeed qualified to write this column. Sure, I’m a religion major who has yet to write that breakthrough screenplay that earns me a seat at the Golden Globes, but I’m opinionated, nonetheless, and born to movie-educate the masses. So, on that note, let’s dive right in.

It would be amiss not to begin this bi-weekly column with a post that addresses the insanity currently sweeping over Hollywood. This week’s SAG awards were filled with emotions– from numerous actors speaking out against President Trump’s executive order on immigration to Denzel Washington upsetting Casey Affleck and Ryan Gosling for best actor. (Who saw THAT one coming??) The Oscar nominees have been announced, snubbing Taraji P. Henson for her role in Hidden Figures and controversially allowing disgraced anti-semite Mel Gibson in the running. Questions surround the fate of Asghar Farhadi, the Iranian nominated director who may not be able to attend the February 26th ceremony due to Trump’s ban, and NBC’s Dick Wolf is trying to squeeze out more money by making yet another Chicago show.

You’ll notice that most of these have to do with politics. 2016 (and so far 2017) has been a banner year for the Hollywood-Washington crossover, with celebrities becoming more involved in a presidential election than perhaps ever before. Aside from the usual backing of presidential nominees, Hollywood stars have not missed an opportunity to share their feelings about the new president. John Oliver made it his life’s mission this season to convince viewers to vote for Clinton. Meryl Streep (who’s NOT overrated, Mr. President) called Trump out during her acceptance speech at the Golden Globes. Lin-Manuel Miranda (creator of perhaps the most overtly political show on Broadway– though also the most amazing) has been incredibly vocal about his hatred for the new president, and Lorne Michaels was awarded one of President Obama’s medals of freedom, arguably because of the recent politically-driven season of Saturday Night Live. On the flip side, celebrities like Kanye West and John Voight have come out in support of President Trump, though they are in the minority of Hollywood stars. In fact, political opinion in Hollywood has become such an expectancy this past year that celebrities who didn’t pipe in about the election (like my main gal, TSwift) have been getting a lot of flack.

Now, this column isn’t about politics. This column isn’t about the 2016 election, the current president or his policies, and this column definitely isn’t about my own political views. This is a column about Hollywood and the entertainment industry, but the two have become so mixed recently that I find myself wondering– is there a separation?

I truly believe that artists have a valuable and irreplaceable role in society. At times, I’ve found answers in film and television to questions so deep and personal that I didn’t even know I struggled with them until an actor or a writer put them in front of me– and the film industry could not do this without delving into the thick of things, attacking the personal and the relevant when no one else dares to. But, as I watched the nastiness of this past year’s election grow, I wondered if recognizing limitations was something Hollywood has yet to learn.

As much as intellectuals might deny it, celebrities have an enormous amount of influence in modern society. We may not realize it, but we look toward Hollywood as an escape. We see celebrities through our rose-colored glasses; when we hear about their lives and opinions, we hear them the way we hear lines on a screen or words on a page. We don’t know it, but we instinctively give them a reverence we don’t give the guy who lives next door, or even the news anchor who brings in an expert we’ve don’t recognize to talk about the election. And when we give them this level of reverence, we give them power. So much power that, when they tell us their opinions, we cloak them in veils of absolute truth. And, so, the question is: Is Hollywood sticking its nose into the political arena making the political climate better or worse? When do they step up and use their public platform for good, and when is it just a bully pulpit? Are actors’ opinions something we need to hear just because they have a mike and a camera beaming out to millions of people?

It doesn’t matter whether I (or anyone else) agree with the stand certain celebrities took and continue to take about the current President and his policies. The point is this: there are people who voted a certain way because John Oliver or Kanye West told them to, and that is freakin’ terrifying.

And so, Hollywood, as one of your most devoted fans, I make a plea: I ask that you recognize your influence, but also acknowledge your limitations. See where you can inspire, but also understand where you can hurt. Trust your audience to engage, but also trust them to be individuals. Remind us of the magic of the movies, but never try to rob us of our own thoughts. I think it’s time Hollywood began anew, forgot about politics for a little bit and focused on creating art on a more personal and nuanced level. And maybe then, the political climate (and also the comedy late shows) will begin to improve.

Keep on watching,

Yael
P.S. Stay tuned for my first pick on your Must See Binge list!