#32 Wake Up Call
30/09/20 11:36
There’s so much I want to watch at the moment - I Hate Suzie and The Third Day and Us, and the rest of Harlots, and Schitt’s Creek given it just won everything at the Emmys, but first I have to tell you about how SHAMAZING The Morning Show is. We’d been meaning to watch it for ages and have only just got round to it, but we’ve already slam-dunked the whole series because it’s THAT good. It’s compulsive and nuanced and timely and brilliant and let me tell you why.
First up, it’s got Jennifer Aniston and Reese Witherspoon in it. Kudos to Reese for managing to be in – and responsible for - so many interesting, well-made dramas; she really does know what she’s doing. Jennifer Aniston is my husband’s free pass, which I freely and nobly condone, because the likelihood of her ever meeting him, or being up for it, is as slim as her perfectly-sculpted arms. If I’m honest, she’s not as hot as her Rachel days, because she’s had a leetle too much work done, but on another level she’s way more attractive, because she’s older, wiser, swearier and more complex. Not hotter, but cooler.
Jen plays Alex Levy, host of a popular breakfast show, whose gig goes tits up when her co-host, Mitch Kessler, is fired over allegations of sexual misconduct. The fall-out is immense, and in the subsequent ungainly scrabble for the upper hand, Alex coerces the network into hiring her choice of replacement: an unpredictable and virtually unknown field reporter Bradley Jackson, played by Ms Witherspoon.
Reese is excellent in this role – fiery and unstoppably honest, Bradley shoots her mouth off, incapable of toeing the line, and baffled by her new status. Jennifer is also great – world-weary, exhausted, sick of everyone’s shit, but always camera-ready. The relationship between them is beautifully portrayed – simmering rivalry, of course, sometimes brimming over into hostility, but also an uneasy solidarity there, the #metoo sisterhood sticking together. Both leading ladies have tremendous hair, and Reese just nudges it even though her barnet sometimes looks a bit wiggy.
The rest of the cast is equally strong. Steve Carell nails Mitch, a charming, caught-out man struggling to reconcile his idea of himself with the accusations. He knows he’s a nice guy, not ‘one of them’, so how can this have happened? There’s a fascinating scene between him and a similarly tarnished director, Dick Lundry (a magnificently creepy Martin Short), which exposes the thorniness of the issue. Lundry – is he Polanski? Woody Allen? Some yucky mix of the two? – says there’s nothing sexy about consent, gradually sinking into his mire, trying to drag Mitch with him. Mitch resists, telling Dick there’s a difference between them. But what is the difference? When it comes down to it, they’re both dicks. However, The Morning Show isn’t afraid to explore those differences; the unnerving contradictions and grey areas that mean nothing is straightforward. Many of the crew remember Mitch fondly; Alex continues to rely on him for emotional support, and neither their own brief romantic history nor his misdemeanours can stamp out the embers of their affection.
As someone who worked in TV for twenty years, let me tell you that Chip Black is one of my favourite characters, because he is SUCH a classic exec. A worn-out shell, his life eroded by the stresses of his profession, until he’s just an embittered husk and nothing exists but his job, even though he hates it. A decent man who can look you in the eye and tell you you’re fired, because someone above him told him to say it. A decent man who can look the other way when his talent is misbehaving, because he has 101 other catastrophes to deal with. A decent man who looks like he will one day quietly expire, or explode.
Another highlight is Billy Crudup as Cory Ellison, the new broom hired to shake things up. And, boy, does he love to do that. If Mitch is turned on by subtle sexual manipulation, then Cory has the horn for chaos, rubbing his hands in glee when Bradley confesses to an abortion live on air, eyes twinkling as he locks antlers with Alex. He’s a diverting yet disturbing figure, hard to work out if he’s a benign or malign influence. Both, I hope, because this show thrives on double standards.
The pace of it is frenetic, relentless – never letting up, always seeking out the ratings high, wiping its nose, carrying on and on. It also does what all TV should be doing right now, and works in the climate emergency as part of the narrative – one of the episodes is set in California during the wildfires, providing a livid backdrop to the drama. The Morning Show’s own house is burning down, and the whole world too – yet still they rage, and smoulder, and try to get each other fired. As the episode closes, Aniston gazes at the blazing horizon while the crew frolic in the hotel pool, all of them locked in a Groundhog Day where there will always be a 3.30am alarm, and nothing else matters.
It’s grim and dark and wrong and hilarious and I LOVE IT.
First up, it’s got Jennifer Aniston and Reese Witherspoon in it. Kudos to Reese for managing to be in – and responsible for - so many interesting, well-made dramas; she really does know what she’s doing. Jennifer Aniston is my husband’s free pass, which I freely and nobly condone, because the likelihood of her ever meeting him, or being up for it, is as slim as her perfectly-sculpted arms. If I’m honest, she’s not as hot as her Rachel days, because she’s had a leetle too much work done, but on another level she’s way more attractive, because she’s older, wiser, swearier and more complex. Not hotter, but cooler.
Jen plays Alex Levy, host of a popular breakfast show, whose gig goes tits up when her co-host, Mitch Kessler, is fired over allegations of sexual misconduct. The fall-out is immense, and in the subsequent ungainly scrabble for the upper hand, Alex coerces the network into hiring her choice of replacement: an unpredictable and virtually unknown field reporter Bradley Jackson, played by Ms Witherspoon.
Reese is excellent in this role – fiery and unstoppably honest, Bradley shoots her mouth off, incapable of toeing the line, and baffled by her new status. Jennifer is also great – world-weary, exhausted, sick of everyone’s shit, but always camera-ready. The relationship between them is beautifully portrayed – simmering rivalry, of course, sometimes brimming over into hostility, but also an uneasy solidarity there, the #metoo sisterhood sticking together. Both leading ladies have tremendous hair, and Reese just nudges it even though her barnet sometimes looks a bit wiggy.
The rest of the cast is equally strong. Steve Carell nails Mitch, a charming, caught-out man struggling to reconcile his idea of himself with the accusations. He knows he’s a nice guy, not ‘one of them’, so how can this have happened? There’s a fascinating scene between him and a similarly tarnished director, Dick Lundry (a magnificently creepy Martin Short), which exposes the thorniness of the issue. Lundry – is he Polanski? Woody Allen? Some yucky mix of the two? – says there’s nothing sexy about consent, gradually sinking into his mire, trying to drag Mitch with him. Mitch resists, telling Dick there’s a difference between them. But what is the difference? When it comes down to it, they’re both dicks. However, The Morning Show isn’t afraid to explore those differences; the unnerving contradictions and grey areas that mean nothing is straightforward. Many of the crew remember Mitch fondly; Alex continues to rely on him for emotional support, and neither their own brief romantic history nor his misdemeanours can stamp out the embers of their affection.
As someone who worked in TV for twenty years, let me tell you that Chip Black is one of my favourite characters, because he is SUCH a classic exec. A worn-out shell, his life eroded by the stresses of his profession, until he’s just an embittered husk and nothing exists but his job, even though he hates it. A decent man who can look you in the eye and tell you you’re fired, because someone above him told him to say it. A decent man who can look the other way when his talent is misbehaving, because he has 101 other catastrophes to deal with. A decent man who looks like he will one day quietly expire, or explode.
Another highlight is Billy Crudup as Cory Ellison, the new broom hired to shake things up. And, boy, does he love to do that. If Mitch is turned on by subtle sexual manipulation, then Cory has the horn for chaos, rubbing his hands in glee when Bradley confesses to an abortion live on air, eyes twinkling as he locks antlers with Alex. He’s a diverting yet disturbing figure, hard to work out if he’s a benign or malign influence. Both, I hope, because this show thrives on double standards.
The pace of it is frenetic, relentless – never letting up, always seeking out the ratings high, wiping its nose, carrying on and on. It also does what all TV should be doing right now, and works in the climate emergency as part of the narrative – one of the episodes is set in California during the wildfires, providing a livid backdrop to the drama. The Morning Show’s own house is burning down, and the whole world too – yet still they rage, and smoulder, and try to get each other fired. As the episode closes, Aniston gazes at the blazing horizon while the crew frolic in the hotel pool, all of them locked in a Groundhog Day where there will always be a 3.30am alarm, and nothing else matters.
It’s grim and dark and wrong and hilarious and I LOVE IT.
- The Morning Show, 10 episodes, Apple TV
