Television
“Mad Men” gets all manner of undeserved attention. Yet I attend to it.
In Russia, the defenders of Nadia, Masha, and Katia have compared their plight to the victims of the infamous Stalinist “Show Trials” of the ’30s.
The only way to sort of enjoy “Family Tree” is with modest expectations; and indeed, this is the most modest of series, as Christopher Guest cuts his molars on TV with a program which rarely tries to be more than fairly amusing, mildly ambitious, a kind of bemused apprentice work in a new medium.
Mr. Selfridge drives me nuts because the storyline, the rise of a mercantile empire, calls for edgy Darwinian conflict rather than paternal benevolence sprinkled with layers of powered soap opera.
But there’s something else going on in “Mad Men,” all the more because it’s latent, unannounced, episode by episode. It’s this thing about art and advertising, and the difference, circa that era, if any.
Yesterday the folks behind Rdio.com, the online music subscription service, started unveiling Vdio, an online video rental and sales service.
It was while watching the NCAA Men’s Basketball tournament that I stumbled upon an interesting trend: non-American rock music being used in American advertising campaigns.
American Horror Story: Asylum didn’t skimp on the scary; there’s enough disturbing images per episode to satisfy the most discriminating taste in horror.
Richard Vacca’s The Boston Jazz Chronicles will be a foundational document that other researchers will turn to again and again as they delve into more specific niches of Boston jazz history and unearth as yet unknown artifacts of this era and its neglected body of music.
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