SyFy Portal Visits The House Between!

Sy Fy Portal's Marx Pyle just published an in-depth interview with me on the subject of my returning online sci-fi series, The House Between at the popular genre web site. Here's a snippet of a "Conversation in The House Between":

It doesn’t have the budget of some of the more popular Web series, but it does have heart. It also has on board Muir, best known as an award-winning author of more than 20 reference books covering film and television including "An Askew View: The Films of Kevin Smith," "The Encyclopedia of Superhero on Film and Television," "Horror Films of the 1970s," and "Terror Television."

Last year, however, Muir decided to take the plunge and try his own hand at creating a TV series by avoiding the middleman and airing it on the Internet..."

Check out the rest of the article!

Star Trek Blogging: "The Naked Time"

Stardate 1704.2: The U.S.S. Enterprise (NCC-1701) orbits distant Psi 2000, an ancient world on the verge of breaking up. The crew's mission: to recover the planet-bound science team, and monitor the disintegration of the planet.

Unfortunately, the landing party (consisting of half-Vulcan science officer Spock [Leonard Nimoy] and Joe Tormolen) discovers that the entirety of the science team is dead...and dead under very odd conditions indeed. 

One woman has been strangled. An engineer is dead at his post, frozen to death because life support was de-activated, and another man died in the shower fully-clothed. 

Tormolen unwittingly brings this unique form of "space madness" back to the starship after removing a protective glove (to scratch his nose...), and coming into contact with a contaminated console.

This "disease" spreads rapidly aboard the Enterprise as Captain Kirk and the others see "hidden personality traits forced" into the open among their comrades. 

This symptom means that Mr. Sulu (George Takei) becomes a swashbuckler. 

This means that Nurse Christine Chapel (Majel Barrett) confesses her undying love to Mr. Spock. 

Even the logical Mr. Spock is infected too, lamenting the fact that he could never tell his mother that he loved her. Kirk is not immune, either.  He admits the personal cost he's paid to serve as captain of the Enterprise, not the least of which is his isolation from the men and women he leads.

"No beach to walk on," Kirk muses wistfully.

Soon, events spiral out of control. A contaminated Lt. Kevin Riley commandeers Engineering  and shuts down the engines. This means that as the planet breaks up, the Enterprise can't escape orbit. Scotty (James Doohan) proclaims dramatically that he "can't change the laws of Physics" and re-start the engines cold.   

Things look grim until Kirk snaps Spock out of his crying jag.  Once rational again, Spock realizes that there is a formula for cold engine start up, one that has never been tested.  

In the end, Dr. McCoy (DeForest Kelley) finds a cure for the disease, and the Enterprise barely escapes Psi 2000 as it cracks up, utilizing a dangerous new intermix formula which generates a time warp. 


"The Naked Time" (By John D.F. Black and directed by Marc Daniels) is not just an exciting Star Trek story from early in the series' historic first season, but the prototype and creative wellspring for much of episodic science fiction television. 

In essence, "The Naked Time" finds a useful plot device -- here an alien molecule/disease that acts on the human blood stream like alcohol intoxication -- by which the writer can excavate the hidden, buried, or repressed facets of the lead characters. This is important because there are things that characters will never realistically reveal to others, all things being equal. 

All things aren't equal, here, however, and the characters reveal new, deeper shades.

Star Trek went back to this "Naked Time" well at least a few times over is three seasons, with variable results. "This Side of Paradise" employs alien spores to give Spock a love story, to great emotional effect. 

Oppositely, the third season's "And the Children Shall Lead" uses Gorgon-powered evil tykes to reveal that Uhura is afraid of aging, and expose Kirk's fear -- again --  of losing command. That episode is generally considered one of the worst of the seriesStar Trek: The Next Generation went boldly where the original series had gone before in a story called "The Naked Now" in 1987, which revived the threat (alien disease) to vex the crew of the Enterprise-D.  Ironically, the disease there seemed to reveal less diverse behavior among the crew; basically that all the women on the ship (Crusher, Troi and Yar) were sexually-deprived.  The answer to this deprivation, amazingly, was more suppression.  Captain Picard opined in the episode's coda that they would make a fine crew "if" they could "avoid temptation."


Another facet of "The Naked Time" that bears repeating: technically, it's the first time travel episode on the classic series. 

Spock develops a formula that sends the Enterprise back in time three days, or seventy-one hours.. In the final scene, he says to Kirk that time travel is now longer a theory but a reality. Kirk opens up the door to a whole bunch of stories by replying "we may risk it some day." 

Ironically -- despite the overt set-up here -- follow-up Star Trek time travel stories utilized a different method of time travel all together: a slingshot around the sun at high warp velocities. This technique appeared in "Tomorrow is Yesterday," "Assignment: Earth" and Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home.

Focusing on the episode itself, "The Naked Time" expresses something unique and very individual about the series, and this may element prove the dividing line between adherents and detractors. 

Specifically, all the havoc in the episode commences when Tormolen takes off a glove to scratch his nose, and is contaminated by the infection. Some people will complain about this plot point. They'll ask: how did a man ascend to a position of authority on board the U.S.S. Enterprise, after presumably rigorous training in Starfleet, and then turn around and do something so stupid, so thoughtless, so reckless? I sympathize with those literal-thinkers who have a problem with this. 

However (and this is where I fall on the subject), the glory of the original Star Trek (and one largely sacrificed to catsuits and soap opera plotting in later generations), is the continuing recognition of mankind's foibles. 

Humans do make mistakes from time-to-time, and many stories in the original Star Trek canon are possible only because humans do something wrong, or reckless, or silly. I happen to appreciate this facet of "The Naked Time" and Star Trek. I believe that even when we reach the stars, we'll still be the same flawed creatures we are today. That doesn't make us bad. As Kirk would say, it just makes us human.

What else happens in "The Naked Time"?

Well, Nurse Chapel alludes to some kinky rumors about Vulcans. "The men from Vulcan treat their women...strangely," she muses with a look that suggests she wouldn't mind playing the willing victim if Spock were her victimizer. This is another reason I love the original Star Trek series: it can be downright perverse and kinky.

We learn from Kevin Riley that there's a bowling alley on the Enterprise. That's a little strange. So TV doesn't survive past 2020 in Star Trek, according to "The Big Goodbye," but bowling thrives into the 23rd century?Nimoy is terrific in this episode. No surprise there. He has good writing on his side, of course, but he brings a lot to the table. I love how Mr. Spock attempts to hold himself together by quoting multiplication tables. There's something very right about that: the logic of Math/Order trying to hold down the chaos of emotional distress. It doesn't work, but it's a noble attempt.

Finally, "The Naked Time" reveals another element of Star Trek that disappeared after this generation: the captain's undying love for his ship. "Never lose you," Kirk says here, while under the influence. He's referring to the Enterprise, and talking about her like she's his lover.  His passion for the ship borders on obsession.  In the original series, the Enterprise was a main character, and a love for this particular ship by Kirk and others is an element that informed many of the best stories. 

One might contrast this obsession with Captain Picard's blase response at the destruction of the Enterprise D (paraphrased) in Generations: "I'm sure this won't be the last ship to carry the name Enterprise..." 

CULT TV BLOGGING: Star Maidens: "The Proton Storm"

This week on Star Maidens, in a script penned by John Lucarotti (who wrote several fine episodes of the original Doctor Who in the 1960s), Liz (Liza Harrow) and her (male) assistant Rudy are held hostage by Octavia pending the release of Shem and Adam on Earth. Fulvia (Judy Geeson) is unhappy when a deal can't be reached with the fugitives from Medusa and Earth's Dr. Evans, but Octavia terminates the mission and decides it is time to return home. "What can you expect of a planet ruled by men?" She asks rhetorically.

Which means that Liz and Rudy get their first (involuntary) peek at the advanced world of Medusa. Once there, the Earthlings are separated and Liz is treated like royalty while Rudy is relegated to the barracks in the men's quarters. "You mustn't concern yourself over a mere male," Fulvia suggests to Liz. "To love a man is to give him power over you. And he will only abuse that."

Rudy finds that the men's quarters are pretty rudimentary, and that the servants spend most of their time playing an extra-terrestrial variation of Chess. "The rules are simple," explains Octavia without cracking the slightest hint of a smile, "The Queen is never captured." Rudy also learns that men once ruled on Medusa, during an epoch that Fulvia refers to as the planet's Dark Ages. Back then, there was nothing "but wars, violence and greed." Since women took over the planet, Medusa has - by contrast - seen centuries of peace and progress.

While Rudy and Liz learn the ways of Medusa, on Earth Shem and Adam state their conditions for returning home. Shem wants a full pardon from Octavia and his old job back (aim high, brother!), while Adam wants no less than equal rights and equal opportunities, a request which Octavia finds "rebellious."

Hoping to reunite with Adam, her former domestic, on Earth, Fulvia steals the Nemesis and plots a trajectory back to Earth, but a Proton Storm is directly on her course, somewhere between "Jupiter and Uranus" (snicker, snicker...). The storm is raging at "destruction point," but Fulvia decides they'll just have to "ride it" (more snickering...).

From Earth, Shem helps Fulvia safely navigate the deadly proton storm, but when Fulvia lands on Earth, Adam still can't bring himself to forgive his mistress, and runs off into the wood like - in the words of my Kathryn - a "three year old."

As opposed to the last episode of Star Maidens I watched ("Nightmare Cannon"), this one isn't overtly high camp, and is played rather seriously. I've noticed that matters seem to pick up dramatically on Medusa, whereas most of the stuff occurring on Earth just seems ridiculous. For instance, why is Dr. Evans - an egghead - negotiating with alien leaders? Wouldn't the British government like to be in on that action? Kathryn was more concerned with technical aspects of the episode: during a scene involving Evans gazing into a scanner/communication device, he, Shem and Adam all seemed to be looking in different places. Oopsy.

Trailer: The House Between 2.0

The House Between Mark II

The Lulu Show (my production company...) is gearing up at warp speed for the much-anticipated re-launch of The House Between - my low-budget, independently crafted web sci-fi series. The first new episode, "Returned" goes live on Friday January 25, 2008 and in anticipation of that date, there's a whole lot of activity going on.

Foremost among these, our web-page has been re-designed and looks gorgeous. The new site features links to Season One episodes, but also to a new section of highly-detailed cast-and-crew interviews. I've enjoyed reading these, and think you might too. Here are some entertaining snippets.

This is from Rick Coulter's interview. He's my DP and Sociology expert:

RICK: "...THB is about earth and the humans that occupy it, but it's about these things seen through the filters of television and film. Some days the house is a comedy; some days it's a horror show or sci-fi episode, and other moments are straight drama. (Many of the TV and film references are beyond me). Arlo/John who has lived inside this place for a very long time has gradually come to realize that culture, either THB culture, or media culture can be manipulated. (See season 2.)

John has admitted that the five characters are all aspects of his own personality; a personality that is surely the product of media socialization. The characters are never seen entering the house and they never leave the house, they just manifest inside this box and the story begins. The male characters representing Capitalism and Science/Objectivity and the female characters representing Religion and Mysticism/subjectivity do not define John; in fact, none of these things would be associated with any part of his core personality.

These are only subjects that come through the grid and which he dissects, manipulates, critiques, or uses in the analysis of his primary interest- media studies. Arlo, the androgynous character, represents chaos, youthful energy, imagination, and creation. Arlo, who's been in the house the longest, is John. He has positioned himself in the kitchen, the only room with electrical appliances. In fact, one of these appliances actually gives birth to Arlo (the oven). The incubator that nurtured John is obviously the TV..."

Here's my Lighting Co-Director Kevin Flanagan's assessment of the meaning behind the show:

KEVIN: "It is an alternative to a lot of the things that recent sci-fi series and shows have done or still do...which is to say, it feels like a reaction to a lot of what circulates as contemporary sci-fi. It is independent, talky, lo-fi...private, and slightly amorphous. It won't give you any easy moral idioms or fortune-cookie answers. Then again, it has a heart and soul to it, but I think that the heart and soul are identified by the viewer, and not necessarily fixed by the producers."

And here my producer, Joseph Maddrey describes Season Two:

JOE: The more time we spend with these characters, the deeper we see into them. Season two is gut-check time. While the most reprehensible actions of the characters in season one could be attributed to knee-jerk impulsiveness, the violence of season two reveals these characters at their most basic, primal levels... suffice it to say, it's not always pretty. Season two is season one's bigger, badder, older brother who came here to do two things: chew bubblegum and kick ass.

There are funny stories, exciting factoids and other goodies in these interviews, so I hope you'll dig deep into the web site and check everything out in anticipation of Season Two.

The trailer for the The House Between 2.0 will be up shortly...

GameCulture Journal Issue # 4

The fourth issue of the scholarly periodical GameCulture Journal is now available for download here.

This time out, the magazine focuses primarily on genre book reviews. Gamer Theory by McKenzie Wark, Half Real: Video Games Between Real and Fictional Worlds by Jasper Juul and Neo-Baroque Aesthethics and Contemporary Entertainment by Angela Ndalainis are among the works surveyed by staff and guest writers.

I also contributed a book review to this issue, of Brett Weiss's impressive (and very detailed...) Classic Home Video Games, 1972-1984; A Complete Reference Guide.

GameCulture Journal is devoted to a philosophical, aesthetic and historical examination of video games and video game culture, and you'll also find in this issue an intriguing interview with Wallflower Press's Editorial Director, Yoram Allon. Co-editor Bobby Schweizer has penned an impressive and in-depth look at Castlevania II as well.

There's no cost to download GameCulture Journal, and there's oodles of good writing here. Check it out.

Atari 2600 Cartridge Art

CULT MOVIE REVIEW: Carnival of Souls (1962)

Directed by Kansas native and regional filmmaker Harvey Herk on a super-low budget (by some accounts 33,000 dollars; by some accounts 17,000 dollars), the 1962 Carnival of Souls is a fascinating and disturbing horror film that - despite some bumps (including a few bad performances here and there and weak audio) - plays more as creepy art film than graphic horror picture. The black-and-white film remains deeply unnerving (and oddly beautiful) to this day, primarily because of two critical factors: excellent, canny visualizations, and a strong narrative focus on an intriguing central protagonist and her plight.

Carnival of Souls stars lovely Candace Hilligoss as Mary Henry, a talented young organ player. As the film commences, she's involved in a bad accident (following a drag race), and trapped in a car (with two friends...) that goes off a bridge. Mary emerges from the swirling river some time later, apparently the only survivor of the tragedy, and leaves town, headed for a new job (as a church organ player) in a brand new city. But on the way to her new post, Mary begins to experience macabre visions of a strange, smiling, white-faced stranger. And she feels irrevocably drawn to a lonely, deserted dance hall/carnival she passes on the highway by night. There, at Saltair, white-faced souls emerge from a river and dance at a merry go-round. They beckon Mary to join them...

Though this is undeniably a low-budget, slowly-paced film (even at 81 minutes), Carnival of Souls admirably remains focused on its central character, and her "horror" plight reflects her unique and individual characteristics as a human being. Or to put it another way, the film's form reflects its content. What this means is that Mary is a remote, icy woman who - even before her accident - feels separated from the rest of the human race. Some accuse the distant (frigid?) woman of not possessing a soul to begin with. A cold fish (but not a bad person), Mary feels detached from those she works with, and doesn't even evidence sorrow about the accident. Mary just seems...off. She wants to connect with other human beings, but somehow just can't do it. She has never been able to do it.

The screenplay is a good one because Mary's crisis is that, post-accident, she indeed begins to slip away from humanity, into the nether world of death. Her lack of connection becomes a real, tangible thing. Her feeling that she has "no place in the world" and "no part of life" is literalized when she begins to drift slowly into the eerie, dead world of the carnival of souls. At one point in the film, while in a department store dressing room, Mary sees the surrounding world ripple around her (as if underwater...), and when she emerges into the store proper, nobody can see her, and she can't hear anything. She has gone from being a voluntary (but distant) observer of her fellow man, to an involuntary one, and it's frightening to see it happen. Later, the same phenomenon occurs a second time, and Mary flees to a bus station. Here, she is given an opportunity to board a bus, one filled with white-faced ghouls, and the moment is legitimately terrifying. A gaggle of the dead sit in their seats, staring and smiling, waiting to add to their number. The message is clear: there is no escape from death.

Another moment in Carnival of Souls finds Mary slipping into a fugue state while playing the organ, and experiencing visions of the dance pavilion, where the dead whirl in endless circles, waltzing for all eternity. As Mary drifts ever further from the land of the living to the Tartarus of the dead, she desperately tries to hold on to her humanity, to connect with a skanky neighbor in her boarding house. "I don't want to be alone tonight. I want to be near you," she begs, trying desperately to hold onto the existence she knew, but once took for granted. The date goes badly, however, after Mary witnesses a disturbing image in a mirror. Nuzzling on her neck is not the skeevy would-be suitor, but rather the white-faced stranger. It is the emptiness and isolation of death courting Mary now.

Buttressed by unconventional and - in some sense - avant-garde scene transitions (ones that seem to presage David Lynch's brilliant Lost Highways), Carnival of Souls culminates with Mary's final visit (in this life...) to the abandoned pavilion. Herk utilizes a series of high-angle shots to express Mary's doom, and one shot, viewing the protagonist from behind a chain-link fence, dramatizes her ultimate entrapment. What follows a brilliantly-shot chase sequence (which features ghouls in close-up, popping up unexpectedly into the foreground of the frame), is the ending zinger or "twist." By now, this ending probably feels familiar (and you can see it coming). But back in 1962, it probably worked better than it does now. For a generation weaned on multiple incarnations of The Twilight Zone, we've been trained to expect such a reversal.

This film won't prove everybody's cup of tea, no doubt, especially based on its budgetary limitations, but Carnival of Souls is admirably mounted as an exploitation film without any real exploitation. It is ambitious in that it doesn't rely on violence, gore or titillation to achieve chilling effects. Instead, the film is paced lugubriously (but deliberately) as a character piece. The narrative unfurls with the illogic of a dream or a nightmare and consequently the film casts a spell or aura of doom and foreboding. Let's take the make-up on the ghouls. It is fairly obvious that white pancake make-up was applied heavily and rather roughly to the extras, with black make-up around the eyes. At times, you can actually see brush lines where the make-up is applied. Yet this would-be problem is instead part of the film's terrifying mood, a piece of the crude but ambitious artistry. The ghouls remain scary, even if we can see that they are wearing badly-applied make-up. I don't know why, exactly, but here realism isn't necessary in forging the spell, and the shabbiness (at points) of the production values instead serves to enhance the feeling of surrealism.

Herk also does really well with "the creep factor" underlining Carnival of Souls. The first time that a white-faced "soul" appears in the reflection of a car's passenger-side window is a terrifying humdinger (and an inventively staged shot). The moment wherein the ghoul reappears at the bottom of the staircase (and we get opposing zoom shots: of the grinning stranger and of the terrified Mary at the top of the staircase), generates a legitimate sense of suspense and horror, especially as the ghoul ascends the staircase.

Performances in Carnival of Souls are truly variable, from the exquisite and sublime (the entrancing Hilligoss) to the terrible (there's a moment when a stranger by a water fountain addresses the camera directly), but there's an alchemy at work in Carnival of Souls, one impossible to dismiss. The film's production deficits somehow manage to play into the overriding sense of the unreal and dream-like. There are no zombie attacks, no fierce action sequences, no bouts of blood-letting here. Instead, the venture methodically and memorably (and with unforgettable imagery) charts one woman's tragic plight as she slips slowly -piece by piece - from the world of the living to the world of the dead. In that half-detected twilight between life and death, she begins to regret that she never embraced life as meaningfully as she should have. Because now, death's cold embrace - a dance partner in the carnival of souls - is all she has to look forward to.

There are better, more accomplished horror films out there, but few as lyrical and psychically unnerving as Carnival of Souls. It's one of those films you should really watch in total darkness, in the middle of the night. You'll appreciate it best while feeling the tug of sleep, as dreams beckon and nightmares loom. Carnival of Souls artistically navigates the tightrope of the unconscious and perhaps subconscious world, creating a gloomy trance-like state of attention; one occasionally punctuated by moments of sheer, palpable terror.

CULT TV BLOGGING: Star Maidens: "Nightmare Cannon"

Star Maidens' descent into utter, unswerving camp continues unabated with the third episode (by Eric Paice and directed by Wolfgang Starch), called "Nightmare Cannon." Hmmm. A show about dominating women and meek men; their sexual slaves. What might a "nightmare cannon" be? Let's find out.

Watching this installment of the 1970s Brit series, I have to admit, one can detect that the hard right shift towards comedy and shtick may actually be intentional. There's no other explanation for some of the dialogue and situations here.

"Nightmare Cannon" commences as Medusan refugees Shem and Adam - free in England - commandeer medieval Wessex castle and hide there (after freezing a kindly security guard they mistake for a Baron) to escape the clutches of their would-be captors and female overlords, Fulvia and Octavia.

Meanwhile, Earth scientist Liz Becker (Liza Harrow) and her German (and highly-excitable) assistant take advantage of the fact that the Medusans left the door to their advanced spaceship, Nemesis, wide-open. Oopsy. The Earthers sneak aboard, and Liz's assistant is blinded by a high-tech control panel while snapping photos of the advanced technology. His condition requires the help of an absolutely terrifying robot physician. This female doctor boasts needles on the end of her fingers, has dead white eyes, wears horrific blue lipstick and speaks with a grating, metallic voice. Apparently, the Medusans have never heard of a good bedside manner. (Her prototype must have been programmed by Nurse Ratched).

Using her "man finder" device (which - remember - hunts down scent...), Octavia tracks Adam and Shem to the castle and decides to re-capture them by firing a Medusan device called a "nightmare cannon" at them. It is explained that this device "projects" a series of sonic sounds at the target to "disturb the hypothalamus" and cause visual hallucinations and nightmares. In the castle, Shem and Adam go nuts, seeing weird phantasms of Octavia and Fulvia. This sequence includes the worst special effects yet seen on the series, as the faces of the Medusan ladies are superimposed awkwardly over live footage in the castle (and at one point, inside the clanking armor of medieval knights).

While all this is going on, the English government finally sends a representative to the scene (the Minister for Interior Security). About time. You might think that advanced aliens armed with immobilizing stun guns, nightmare-cannons, Nemesis spaceships, and "man finders" might be a matter of interest and some import to the national government. But sure, take your time, Tony Blair. Heckuva job.

Medusan Factoids revealed in "Nightmare Cannon":

*Taking life is against the Medusan religion. (But scaring people with the nightmare cannon is apparently okay).

*According to Octavia, the English language can be learned by an "educated" Medusan in five minutes.

*Medusan proverb/quote: the male's fear of the female on Medusa is "the key to good government." (This is apparently also Hillary Clinton's motto. But I tease Hillary Clinton...)

DVD REVIEW: Extras: The Complete Series

After a triumphant first season, Extras returned to HBO for an even funnier and more self-assured second sortie of six episodes last winter. The entire series (twelve episodes) - as well as a devastating Christmas special - is now available on DVD.

Masterminded by funny men Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant, the creative duo behind The Office, this brilliantly-crafted follow-up series eschews the now overly-familiar mockumentary format as it follows film extra Andy Millman (Gervais) and his thick-headed best friend Maggie (Ashley Jensen) through their day-to-day adventures on the periphery of motion picture production. Merchant portrays Darren Lamb, Millman’s inept agent and Shaun Williamson takes on the regular role of Lamb’s out-of-work, simple-minded client, Barry.

As the second year of Extras commences, Andy Millman’s perpetual bad luck appears to have changed for the better. To wit, he’s starring in a brand new BBC sitcom, “When the Whistle Blows,” that he created. To Andy’s dismay, however, the sitcom has been badly dumbed-down by the network and he is now relegated to playing an obnoxious character with funny glasses and a curly wig; a character whose catchphrase (“Are you having a laugh? Is he having a laugh?”) suddenly becomes a national sensation and a sticking point for Andy.

Pirates of the Caribbean star Orlando Bloom appears in one episode of Extras as himself. The young heartthrob is horrified to learn while on the set of a legal court room drama/romance film that an extra – Maggie - doesn’t find him attractive and actually prefers Johnny Depp! In response, he endlessly attempts to woo her.

Rock star David Bowie appears in another installment, singing a derisive song about Andy in an exclusive restaurant/club. Harry Potter’s Daniel Radcliffe shows up for some fun too, satirizing his wholesome image to portray himself as a horny, self-obsessed louse. Radcliffe spends most of the episode hitting on Maggie and in one incredibly funny moment, flings a condom into the face of Dame Diana Rigg. This is also the notorious episode in which Andy knocks out a dwarf, Willow (1987) star Warwick Davis.

Later in the season, Andy is involved in a celebrity scandal when he inadvertently behaves rudely to a child with Downs Syndrome. Andy also clashes with Coldplay’s Chris Martin, who appears on “When the Whistle Blows” to hawk his newly-released album.

Before the season ends, Andy is publicly humiliated at the BAFTA awards when during an acceptance speech by another performer his When The Whistle Blows action figure won’t stop chattering his popular but inane catchphrase. Andy’s most humiliating moment, however, likely occurs on stage when his rampant homophobia causes him to ruin the play he is appearing in, one directed by Sir Ian McKellen.

Extras proves simultaneously more uncomfortable and more confident here than in its first season, and also offers a number of fun stylistic flourishes. One episode begins with Millman’s disingenuous public service announcement (penance for the Down Syndrome debacle…), and another episode features the opening credits of his dreadful sitcom. The last episode culminates with a guest appearance by Robert De Niro.

The Christmas special is a blistering ninety-minute critique of the entertainment industry and what passes for celebrity culture these days. In the spirit of a Christopher Guest film, this special gazes at a person (Millman) who dreams big and wants to be famous, but doesn’t really understand why it is so important to him. After all, Andy has his own sitcom, and he even appears on the BBC’s Doctor Who as a guest villain (in a ridiculous costume) with David Tennant on hand for a wicked cameo. Yet Andy disdains all of his success because he wants to do “quality work” like an acting competitor who recently finished a bio-pic about Byron and Shelley.

As his new agent tells Andy, some people are never meant for “quality” work. He gives him a choice: be famous for doing something silly or have no fame at all. This is a wake-up call for Andy because he puts down the fans of his sitcom to their faces, proving increasingly ungrateful. The message: be grateful for the fans you have, because you might have none at all. (David Caruso and David Duchovny could have learned this message some years back...).

Andy’s spiral from being a popular TV star to fifth-rung, D-list celebrity on a reality series is contrasted with two additional downward spirals. Stephen Merchant’s character, Darren Lamb loses his agenting business in the Special when Andy fires him and ends up working at a cell-phone retail store.

And poor Maggie – after an on-set altercation with guest star Clive Owen (who wants to throw shit in her face after having on-screen sex with her…) – leaves the “film extras” business. She loses her apartment, finds herself out of work, and slips quietly and without fanfare into genuine poverty.

There’s an uplifting ending (of sorts) to the Extras Christmas special, one that serves as a giant upturned middle-finger to the entertainment industry, but the balance of comedy and pathos so deftly managed by the series is missing here. It’s a depressing (if truthful…) and cynical show that drags the series’ character through desperate, unhappy times, but basically ends their journey in the exact same place that the second season ended (where Andy chose friendship with Maggie over an opportunity to work with Robert De Niro).

Season One and Two of Extras are terrific fun and totally worth your time, but unless you’re in the mood for a massive downer, don’t view the Christmas special around the holidays.

To Boldly Blog...

In honor of the upcoming Star Trek movie, I'll be blogging some episodes of the original series. Only thing is, I don't want to choose which ones. I want you to choose. I'll probably blog a dozen or so over the year (maybe one a month?), including one Star Trek movie. So in the comments below, let me know which episodes/movie you think I should write about.

Is "And the Children Shall Lead" in my future? "The Way to Eden?" Or will it be "The Squire of Gothos?" (And don't ask me to do re-mastered episodes - which I like - I just want this to be Old School).

Seriously, pick a Trek (classic) and let me know...