Monday, August 18, 2014

Life After 30Rock

I didn't join the fever originally, but I have been on quite the Lost kick recently. Mystery? Sure, I'm down. Sexual tension x infinity? Errkay. Hurley the gentlest giant in ze land? Yass Yass.

Now, I would be fine with just these elements. There are complex layers and the plot is woven in a way that makes you wanna play work hooky for hours and hours so you can find Claire and see the crazy French bitch electrocute some more islanders. It's good, really good. But that's not why I love it.

I love it because every episode is chock full of genuine, raw human interaction and/or experience: the way Charile offers Claire an empty jar, pretending that it's peanut butter for her pregnant cravings ("Dip your fingers in, it's crunchy"), or the way that loner black lady holds onto her grief sitting way up high on the dunes. There's something brilliant about a story that throws a bunch of strangers together by chance, making them join together out of necessity or pushing them to the brink of solitary madness. Moreover, there's something romantic about watching moments that everyday ole us remember, dream of, and cringe at.

Praiiiise the Netflix gods. There is life after 30Rock.

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