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The 2000s

If you're looking for something mindless and factual, it's worth considering "The 2000s" on Netflix. This is a "documentary" about pop-culture shifts that happened between 2000 and 2010. That's where my tired brain is at--at present. Here is some ground covered, for the ten-ish minutes I watched as I listlessly stirred sausage and peppers, in a skillet, last night:

-"The Sopranos" was a major change for everyone, blah blah. The show's thesis is that, after "The Sopranos," TV and movies switched places. Movies became more invested in one-size-fits-all tent-pole productions. (Witness "The Avengers.") By contrast, prestige TV became more and more about niche markets. Catering to smaller audiences--but rabid audiences. (One breathless observer points out that people were paying for HBO strictly to watch one drama. One show about a mobster in therapy. Which is impressive.)

-Richard, on "Survivor," was a major find. He was a delightful villain because he thought "outside the box." In other words, he applied strategy and cold reptilian planning to an odd scenario. The other stooges on camera were merely reactive. You need only one good idea to stand out--and Richard said...I know what I'll do! I'll THINK! And America paid attention.

-The same applies to Simon Cowell. He became big simply because he was refreshing. If you're offering a critique of someone's work, then brutal honesty can be a gift. It actually can be *more* generous than something breathless and kind and false. That's what Simon Cowell observed, for the world.

-The documentary puts Tony Soprano in the tradition of Archie Bunker and Bill Huxtable. Someone who seemed surprising and inevitable. Someone who seemed destined to rule TV Land for many years. (The documentary also pays tribute to Edie Falco, and to the uncomfortable nature of complicity, a theme Falco explored for years and years, as Carmela. And it shows us Donald Trump, honing his own shtick, as a brand-new character, "Donald Trump," on "The Apprentice.")

-Why should a pleasure be guilty? Why can't a pleasure be simply a pleasure? The documentary makes this argument about various bits of reality TV--and I think there's likely something to be mined here. I think Lorrie Moore--for example--would agree with this part of the documentary.

That's what I learned. Then I returned to my kitchen work. I'm off for two weeks now: Happy Spring Break!

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