Season 7, Episode 5: ‘The Runaways,’ part 1

A panel of viewers here at Curiata.com will engage in a roundtable discussion following each episode of Mad Men’s seventh and final season. Check back throughout the week for new entries in the series.

That was a wild episode. Where to begin? The threesome? Ginsberg? Another Draper power play?

Right from the start, “The Runaways” was compelling, with interesting narrative threads, new characterizations, looming threats, and a familiar face from the past. For the first time, Lou Avery (he’s finally remarkable enough to have a memorable last name) is humanized; of course, that puts him on the defensive and he spends the rest of the hour as a bigger prick than usual: embarrassing Stan, toying with Don, and plotting with Jim Cutler.

The Lou/Jim conspiracy was executed flawlessly. As Ginsberg, being driven quite literally crazy by the hum of the new computer, spies the men in cahoots, our minds jump to the same conclusion as Ginsberg’s: Lou is being taken care of by Jim in more than just a professional way. The plotting and direction of this scene brought us on board with Ginsberg’s mania; his interpretation seemed valid, so maybe he wasn’t teetering on the edge.

This mastery held us in suspense both for Ginsberg’s impending breakdown and the true story behind the secret Saturday meeting. And both were revealed magnificently. Ginsberg insisted to Peggy that the computer was turning them all homosexual, a red-handed Harry Crane spilled the beans to Don, and the episode had become a runaway train, hurtling toward an explosive end.

The resurfacing of Anna Draper’s niece, Stephanie, pregnant and penniless, was a nice trip down memory lane. Few things seem to light up Don’s life like the extended Draper family. Don is tripping over himself to get to California to see Stephanie, in stark contrast to the reluctance with which he visits his own wife. That discrepancy is not lost on Megan, who makes a bold, desperate play to make her husband happy.

Megan’s party kicked off a final 15 minutes that unfolded like a delirious dreamscape. Time seemed to dilate, smoke filled the air, and a fantasy unfolded. As Megan’s friend, Amy, stepped into the bedroom to “tuck [Don] into bed,” the pre-show warning about “adult content and sexual situations” began to make sense. When lips met lips and hands were placed where they didn’t belong, I couldn’t help but repeatedly ask myself, “Is this really happening?” I was waiting for the moment when the drugs would wear off or the sleep would end and Don would stare into the distance wondering what his most recent hallucination had meant. Instead, Don woke in the morning to the sober reality of two beautiful women in his bed.

As the show cut to commercial, I sat there wowed by what had just transpired. With only five minutes until 11 p.m., I didn’t imagine the intensity could be ratched up any more. Boy, was I wrong. What followed was some of the most over-the-top and brilliant television I have ever seen.

Peggy started the episode still flexing her muscle over Don, but she was quickly and clearly shaken by Ginsberg’s antics, culminating in his epic, vangoghic gesture. The Peg-berg shippers must have had accelerated heart rates as Ginsberg put his unique set of moves on Peggy midway through the show. Unfortunately, he was just acting out one step on the way to collapse.

Early in the hour, I was reflecting on how Ben Feldman had always played the “neurotic Jew” character to the hilt. Little did I know that he would take Ginsberg to the absurdist peak of that neurosis by the time the credits rolled. The scene where Ginsberg finally dropped off the deep end fueled an adrenaline-filled conclusion not soon to be forgotten. I had complained several weeks ago that Mad Men needed more nipples; I should have been careful what I wished for! I was certainly caught off-guard when the writers decided to go “full crazy,” and Stan’s emotional reaction to his friend being carted away was a highlight for me.

But even a strait-jacketed employee being wheeled out of SC&P wasn’t the climax of this hits-keep-coming edition of the show. Lou’s and Jim’s jaws nearly dropped to the conference table as Don strode into their meeting with Philip Morris. The man who penned the kiss-off to the tobacco industry was sure to be canned if SC&P could land the big cigarette fish. Don did what he does best: he turned his liability into an asset.

After all, working with Lucky Strike gave Don years of tobacco ad-writing experience and an understanding of the competition. Don isn’t dead weight but exactly what Philip Morris needs on their team. Jim and Lou try to tell Don his play won’t save him, but they don’t seem so sure of themselves, and the confident Mr. Draper, whistling for a cab of his own, knows he has won the day.

The reestablishment of Don Draper has begun. He got some wife-sanctioned strange, had a little to drink at her party, and hit the ground running back in Manhattan. It may not be rock-solid footing, but Don seems to be on a gradual journey to stability.

Oh yeah, and something happened with Betty. I guess she thinks she has a mind of her own? Yawn.

This episode was the most brilliant in quite some time. I am eagerly looking forward to reading everyone else’s impressions. Scout’s honor!

Know what you grow: Gardens, source of all life

Nothing like spring sunshine and rains to get those gardens growing. Whether you live and work on a farm or just put a few potted plants up on the window sill, there’s something about tending earth and watching the (sometimes literal) fruits of your labor grow up out of it that stirs the human soul. It’s just more fulfilling to gather raspberries from your own backyard bush than to scoop up a sterile, plastic box full of them at the supermarket for $5.99. It connects you to nature, fills you with the satisfaction of (once again, literally) reaping what you sow. Of course, at the supermarket, you don’t have to worry about critters getting to the goods first. Still, it’s no wonder that gardening is such a popular pastime and that more and more people are choosing to buy farmland and raise crops for a living.

But what kinds of crops might you grow, if you are so inclined? We live in a global economy, which means that virtually any kind of food that has ever been eaten is available at your nearby grocery store, from lychee fruit to bison burgers (though we won’t typically find many insects for sale, despite their nutritional value and long history as part of the human diet). Where to start? As more than 86 percent of our readers are from the Western Hemisphere, you might consider only growing fruits and vegetables originally native to the Americas. So what gets left out of our garden plot?

The Middle East, or the area from Egypt to Mesopotamia (Greek, meso: middle; potamos: rivers; “between two rivers”), as it was called, is known as the “Fertile Crescent,” on account of all the good farmland there. This is, of course, the birthplace of Judaism, Islam, and Christianity, and home to the mythical Garden of Eden (either Hebrew edhen: “pleasure, delight” or Sumerian edin: “place that is well-watered throughout”). In the Hebrew Bible/Old Testament, Eden is the place where the first two humans were created. They lived in want of nothing until they disobeyed God and got kicked out, dooming their species to have to work for their supper (and snakes are bad, for some reason). In Sumerian myth, the place was called Edin, and it was where the Annunaki (“people who came from heaven to earth”), a race of god-lings, lived and eventually learned to do things like bathe and grow food. Oh, and also create mankind.

Middle Eastern vegetables include lettuce, radishes, onions, carrots, and cucumbers. We also get wheat, barley, oats, peas, mustard, almonds, sheep, pigs, cattle, and goats from the area. Quite a prolific region for foodstuffs! From Northern Europe, we get pears, raspberries, radishes, spinach, horses, and rye. From the Mediterranean (“middle earth”) come beets, broccoli, cabbage, kale, olives, and Brussels sprouts (the form we know now probably did originate in Belgium, but an earlier type of the plant came from ancient Rome).

Well, that limits our garden quite a bit. How about Asia? “Asia” comes from Akkadian asu: “to rise,” in reference to the sun coming up from the east. Incidentally, the Chinese call their country Zhongguo, which means “central land.” So, you know, everybody thinks they’re from the epicenter of the planet. “Japan” comes from Marco Polo’s “Chipangu,” which is from a Chinese transliteration of the Japanese Nippon (ni means “sun”; pon means “source”).

As to origin myths, one of the more popular ones in China holds that the land is made up of the dead body of the first man, Pangu (“ancient plate”?). While alive, he separated the Earth and sky (Yin and Yang), and when he died, his body filled the gap with rivers, mountains, and plants. What parts of him made our veggies, you ask? Why, his body hair, of course! Also of note: his sweat and snot made up the rain.

With that appetizing information at hand, let’s see what foods originated in Asia and the remaining continents. We get eggplant, rice (of course), coconut, kiwi, peaches, pretty much all the citrus fruits (Florida oranges and Georgia peaches, you say? Got ’em here first!), rhubarb, as well as chicken, lychee, mangoes, and black pepper. The list of African produce is slimmer, featuring yams and watermelon. From Australia, on the other hand, we get an array of old standbys, like conkerberries, doubah, emu apples or muntries, and the zig zag vine.

So what do we have left from the Americas that we can plant in our garden? Well, there’s corn. Originally called “maize,” the Europeans took to calling it “Indian corn,” the word “corn” deriving from an Old Saxon word for grain, but “Indian” was dropped later on. Maize was so important in the Americas that the Mayans believed they were made from it by the gods.

Well, first, the gods tried to make people out of mud. But those people didn’t do anything! They were just mud! Then, they made people out of trees — or wood, anyway. These people moved around and stuff, but they didn’t worship the gods. They lacked faith, and the gods found it disturbing. So the gods decided to animate all the wood peoples’ household appliances, which turned on them and attacked (just like the second Transformers movie), kicking them out of house and home. The wood people lived up in the trees from then on and became monkeys. Finally, the gods used maize to make people, and everything was great.

Other than corn, which constitutes, like, 90 percent of all processed food in the United States (via corn syrup, corn starch, corn-fed beef, etc.), there are quite a few options for our garden. From the Americas, we get beans, peanuts, potatoes, and sweet potatoes. (Haitian Creole batata is the word for “sweet potato”; originally, white potatoes were called “bastard potatoes” by the Europeans because they were cheap and of minor importance compared to their sweet cousins until Ireland built its economy around them.) More native American foods include tomatoes, chili peppers, avocados, cranberries, blueberries, strawberries, pineapples, and squashes. We also get quinoa, sunflowers, turkey, bison, walnuts, pecans, chocolate, vanilla, and maple syrup.

Well, looking at the origins of all these foods, I can safely say I’m glad all this stuff is available at the grocery store. I suppose I could live with food just from the Americas (chocolate and vanilla? Score!), but goodness knows our garden out back is all the better for having a few raspberries to pick each year.

Wrong-headed criticisms of Abraham Lincoln

Recently on Fox Business Network, former New Jersey Superior Court Judge Andrew Napolitano showcased his historical contrarianism by attacking the most revered presidents in U.S. history, including Abraham Lincoln. The judge declared that the American Civil War was Lincoln’s fault: that slavery had been on its last legs and that Lincoln’s decisions actually set back progress by a century.

Napolitano is a well-educated man and obviously came to this opinion after actually studying the topic, but his assertions were not unlike those made by many students of history — at least the ones who don’t dig too deep. Napolitano’s opinions are not accurate, and more indicative of a personal bias toward skepticism. And while skepticism is healthy and good for debate, Napolitano’s limited and factually erroneous views of our 16th president show how a need to believe the worst in people can easily lead to missing out on the whole story.

Napolitano contended, in part, that “[i]nstead of allowing it to die, or helping it to die, or even purchasing the slaves and then freeing them, which would have cost a lot less money than the Civil War cost, Lincoln set about on the most murderous war in American history in which over 750,000 soldiers and civilians — all Americans — died…”

Napolitano’s comments are part of a troubling trend in interpreting the Civil War. In an attempt to seem open-minded and free-thinking, smart people are arguing against the grain. While these antithetical arguments sometimes bring out valid new perspectives, this view of Lincoln and the Civil War does not. Unfortunately, Napolitano is not alone in his “scholasticism.”

On a recent episode of Real Time with Bill Maher, the brash host showed his skepticism about lionized personalities as well by asserting that Lincoln was a racist. Maher’s guest, basketball great Kareem Abdul-Jabar, stood up for Honest Abe, just as Jon Stewart did against Napolitano. To his credit, Maher didn’t press Abdul-Jabar to reverse his position. However, the opinions expressed by Maher and Napolitano are shared by a lot of educated people who misunderstand Lincoln’s actions and ascribe sinister intentions and dark thoughts to one of America’s greatest heroes.

The problem is one of historical comprehension. Lincoln has been apotheosized in the nearly century and a half since his death. This deification is certainly deserved, but it also causes us to attribute superhuman traits to a real man — a man who faced great odds and triumphed. For those of us who study history, this idolization has caused a backlash.

When we see comments made by Lincoln in his pre-presidential Senate campaign debates with Stephen A. Douglas, we are shocked at their racist nature. When we hear about his desire not to end slavery but only to save the Union, we are hit with a gut punch, left wondering if there have ever been true heroes. Unfortunately, this is where otherwise intelligent men like Maher leave the conversation. The problem with this analysis of history, however, is that it only tells half the story.

Let’s first look at Lincoln’s purported racism. The most frequently cited statement in support of the claim that the Great Emancipator was no better than the people of his time is from Lincoln’s debate with Douglas in Charleston, Illinois, in 1858:

I will say then that I am not, nor ever have been, in favor of bringing about in any way the social and political equality of the white and black races, [applause] — that I am not nor ever have been in favor of making voters or jurors of negroes, nor of qualifying them to hold office, nor to intermarry with white people; and I will say in addition to this that there is a physical difference between the white and black races which I believe will forever forbid the two races living together on terms of social and political equality. And inasmuch as they cannot so live, while they do remain together there must be the position of superior and inferior, and I as much as any other man am in favor of having the superior position assigned to the white race.

Harsh. It’s easy to see why some view these words as evidence against Lincoln. But these must be viewed in context.

Lincoln was, before anything else, a politician and a legal scholar. And despite our current attitudes, being a politician is not inherently bad. Many political operatives have been able to use their manipulative abilities to do great things for people. Lincoln was one such operative, and he was using his skills as an orator and a debater to slowly move the center position of the argument about slavery closer to the position of the abolitionists’.

Lincoln learned in his legal career that, by not objecting to every detail of an argument, he could more easily win that argument by only clinging to the aspect that was most important. If he conceded the alleged inferiority of the African race and offered that intermarriage should not be permitted, his argument that slavery should be abolished would be viewed as the bare minimum argument, and therefore, the moderate stance.

The future president was also debating with the shining star of the Democratic Party. Douglas, known at the time as the advocate for popular sovereignty, was pushing his philosophy as a way to answer the difficult questions about the expansion of slavery. When states like Kansas applied for statehood, the U.S. Congress was left gridlocked in debate, time and time again, about whether or not slavery should be allowed there. Douglas’ answer was that the inhabitants of the state should be allowed to choose whether or not the “peculiar institution” could exist within their boundaries. At the time, that was considered the moderate position.

Lincoln had to run against this supposedly moderate man while wearing the label of “Republican,” a party which, at the time, was considered a radical and “black” party. Lincoln, like good politicians of today, had to play down his more “radical” viewpoints in order to appeal to a broader population. As such, he said things that could be construed today as anti-black and racist.

When answering Douglas’ charge about Lincoln wanting complete equality for “the negro,” Lincoln answered: “I do not understand that because I do not want a negro woman for a slave I must necessarily want her for a wife.” By stating his view this way, Lincoln was not saying that there was anything wrong with mixed race marriage — though it is doubtful he cared either way — but was instead making Douglas’ complaints seem absurd and out of touch. By changing the terms of the debate, Lincoln was making the abolition of slavery appear to be a more palatable proposal. Lincoln was nothing if not a moderate, and his political decisions and speeches reflect that.

At the time of Lincoln’s political career, one solution to the slavery problem that was advocated strongly by abolitionists was the colonization of American blacks in Africa. Lincoln supported this venture even through the beginning of the Civil War. This support has been seen by some as further proof of Lincoln’s racism. However, this is another case of not understanding context.

Lincoln’s statements were colored by what actions were politically and logistically feasible. His ideas were pragmatic, and abolishing slavery in the United States when the South held such disproportionate power would have been impossible. The colonization proposals were often made by men who wanted abolition, but who realized that unchaining thousands of men and women after lifetimes of brutality and oppression would lead to great civil unrest and, possibly, ethnic war. By simply removing the former slaves from the continent, the horrendous institution could be destroyed, and former slaveholders would not have to fear for their lives.

However, slavery was the backbone of the American economy, especially in the South, and not even the $3 billion it would cost to buy the freedom of the slaves would be able to persuade the men who profited from the blood and sweat of their fellow human beings. Again, Napolitano’s claim that Lincoln could have simply bought the freedom of the African race is completely off the mark, as the president would have been more than happy to perform such an action had it been possible.

Lincoln’s election as president in 1860 caused an enormous backlash from Southern reactionaries despite Lincoln consistently stating that he had intended to leave slavery alone. Lincoln, in fact, believed he was constitutionally bound to defend the institution despite his personal hatred of it.

“Honest Abe” was very much a constitutionalist and intended to follow the document according to his interpretation, even when he didn’t support what he believed it said. As a result, he promised to honor his duty — to citizens of both North and South, meaning that he had to follow even the laws he despised, like the Fugitive Slave Act. Since Lincoln did not acknowledge secession as any form of legitimate act, he considered himself to still be the president of even those states in open rebellion. And, as treason is a crime, Lincoln responded in the way his constitutional oath required of him.

The idea that Lincoln started the Civil War is absurd. With seven states already in active rebellion by the time he took office, Lincoln had to respond quickly and in a way that would give him the advantage. The first step was to simply wait for the Confederacy to become the aggressors. By sending federal aid to Fort Sumter, Lincoln was directly challenging the South’s claim to sovereignty. The Confederates fell for the trap, firing on the Fort, giving the Union the moral edge, and helping to rally Northerners who were still indifferent toward the secession.

Does this tactical maneuver mean that Lincoln should be implicated for starting the war? No. He was acting in a constitutional manner, doing the job he had sworn to do. The South was actively breaking the law through secession, and Lincoln, as chief executive, was responding. In fact, by waiting for the South to shoot first, the president was taking a much more lenient position than could have reasonably been expected.

Lincoln continued to move the country forward through his moderation. It’s true that the “Emancipation Proclamation” actually freed no slaves, but it didn’t have to; it is not as though its inability to be enforced makes it a less remarkable document. The proclamation, along with the more romantic “Gettysburg Address,” changed the war. It gave Southern blacks something to fight for by granting them freedom when the war would end. The proclamation may not have directly freed anyone, but it removed any doubt that the Civil War was about ending slavery — ironically causing the South’s fears to be realized. Further, it made abolition into a reasonable solution for more of the American population, which set the stage for the complete emancipation brought on by the 13th Amendment.

Napolitano’s criticisms of Lincoln are nothing new. It’s easy to take the Great Emancipator’s quotes out of context, like Maher did, and call Lincoln a racist. It’s easy to call Lincoln a warmonger when ratings or provocation are more important than the facts. But to do so is wrong.

Lincoln had a goal in mind and worked slowly toward it using the means available to him as president. By moving slowly, asserting the “moderate” view that the African race was inferior, waiting for the South to fire first, refusing to free slaves for the first few years, then technically freeing none, he opened up the possibilities for change that resulted in three powerful amendments to the U.S. Constitution, as well as millions of newly freed Americans. Lincoln’s actions changed the world for the better.

If you want to know more about Lincoln, read Gary Wills’ Lincoln at Gettysburg and Doris Kearns Goodwin’s Team of Rivals, and watch Steven Spielberg’s Lincoln. Pay special attention to the Cabinet meeting scene in which the president explains why a 13th amendment to the Constitution is necessary. That scene, and the movie on the whole, perfectly captures Lincoln’s moderate philosophy of governing.

“I leave you, hoping that the lamp of liberty will burn in your bosoms until there shall no longer be a doubt that all men are created free and equal.”
— Abraham Lincoln, July 10, 1858, Chicago, Illinois.

Game of Thrones: Take plunge into vast Westeros

Game of Thrones (HBO)
Where to binge: All four seasons available on HBO GO

God, this show is exhausting. And I mean that as a compliment.

Watching three seasons of Game of Thrones in less than a month is one of the crowning achievements in my Binge Watch-ing history. It’s not that I haven’t watched more shows in less time (looking at you, all five seasons of Friday Night Lights), it’s just that watching a single episode of Game of Thrones feels akin to reading a 1,000-page novel written in a foreign tongue. This is dense, sweeping material, spread across multiple lands and told in multiple variations of European accents.

And yet, with each passing episode, the viewer gets drawn in by the show — slowly, almost begrudgingly at the start, as you wade through the first several hours of season 1. These are the episodes in which you’re introduced to the various tribes and clans that inhabit Westeros, author George R.R. Martin‘s sprawling country made semi-famous in A Song of Ice and Fire, the on-going book series of which Martin has so far penned five of a planned seven books.

The names, faces, and places come at a relentless pace during the first season: King’s Landing, the House of Lannister, Winterfell, Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen, and many others. These are also the episodes that will make or break your interest in GoT. If you can weather the early storm, you’ll be rewarded.

As the first season moves along, the show slows its pace and allows you to visit each land and learn the backstory of each character. Admittedly, some of these lands and stories are more interesting than others. If you’re a fan of king-and-queen drama, you’ll love the intrigue and deception surrounding King Robert Baratheon and his wife, Cersei Lannister. If you enjoy gladiator-esque sword play, there’s plenty of that from the Starks, the family in charge of Westeros’ northern city, Winterfell.

Stark family patriarch, Lord Eddard “Ned” Stark, serves as a de facto main character in season 1 and, as portrayed by the perfectly-bearded Sean Bean, Ned is about as morally righteous a character as there is on GoT. It’s interesting to see how morally righteous characters get “ahead” on this show. Regardless, the show knows that it’s a marathon, not a race, and head writers David Benioff and D.B. Weiss do a fantastic job of luring the viewer into this expansive world.

To even try to synthesize all of the goings-on in the various plot lines that make up GoT would require another four Binge Watch columns: the show is never devoid of “stuff happening.” After a few episodes, it becomes easier to follow the action, but it is interesting to note how the show chooses to unfold its action. GoT is the most densely-plotted series I can recall, yet its storytelling trajectory is actually quite short. Most of the stories told on GoT are spread across multiple seasons, and when you’re watching them in big chunks, it becomes clear that this show actually moves at a snail’s pace.

I have not read any of the Martin series, but those who have read the books know that, as GoT entered its fourth season, less than three books’ worth of Martin’s material had been used so far. Still, from what has been reported of season 4, the show does seem to be picking up speed. That presents GoT with a difficult — and, I believe, unique — problem: what happens when the show catches up with Martin’s writing? (Please feel free to make your next Internet stop right here.)

Some episodes feel painstakingly slow, there’s no denying that. But this is a minor complaint, and one that might not even register with most viewers. If the worst thing said about a show is that it takes its time to establish strong, yet morally ambiguous, characters and tell vivid, often-jaw-droppingly-surprising stories, then I’d say the show is doing just fine.

After three seasons, I feel confident saying that GoT is certainly one of the more enjoyable shows on television right now. But as hype continues to build — the season 4 premiere was the show’s most watched episode to date — where does the show rank among the greats? It’s still too early to tell.

What I do know is that few shows have ever felt this epic, and I mean that literally and not in the way the word is bandied about in most writings. Over the first several seasons, GoT has been shot in countless locations, across multiple countries: Croatia, Morocco, Ireland, Iceland, Malta, and Scotland. These locations give breadth and substance to almost every scene. The show feels huge, and I think that lends itself toward a feeling of grandeur for the series overall. I will need to see where Martin goes with the story — and how the show runners tell that story — before I try to rank this one with the greats.

Still, if you haven’t taken the plunge into the world of Westeros, Game of Thrones is highly-recommended. For binge-watching purposes, two or three episodes at a clip is the most you’re likely to get in on one night. The material is heavy and often harrowing, and for that reason, I suggest you pace yourself.

Season 4 of Game of Thrones is currently airing Sundays at 9 p.m. EDT on HBO.

Star Wars was robbed by Academy in 1977

Star Wars is a cultural phenomenon. Lightsabers, droids, Wookiees, and the Death Star are part of our everyday conversations. The Washington National Cathedral is adorned with a gargoyle of what Americans voted to be the epitome of evil: Darth Vader. And almost every single piece of media made in the last decade, in my experience, contains at least one reference to a Star Wars movie.

Star Wars is easily one of the most successful franchises in world history, yet it is so much more than that. The Star Wars films have inspired generations of young people to dream and to fight back against injustice. They taught us to realize our places as individuals, while remaining integral parts of a much larger universe. The original, historic chapter of the film series, however, is the ultimate example of Academy Award oversight.

Each year, when the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences awards excellence in film, only one movie can take home the top honor: Best Picture. It’s no secret that the Academy naturally favors a certain type of movie. And that is OK. As much as I love Superbad, it’s certainly not the type of movie that should be named Best Picture.

Often, a tremendous work of art is given the nod, much like this year’s 12 Years a Slave. Sometimes, however, the best film of the year gets overlooked in favor of a Hollywood vanity piece or a good movie that will be forgotten in a few years. But some types of movies — in certain genres or with certain characteristics — seem doomed, however good, right from the start.

Seeing that a few comedies have won Best Picture was actually quite jarring. In my time, every winner has been a period piece or a film that raises awareness to illness. These films are often heart-wrenching masterpieces that did not get the proper box office respect. But the Academy’s love affair with these true, or at least almost true, stories neglects original writing and punishes those who make creative films.

Blockbusters are typically big moneymakers. Recently, Nate Silver’s FiveThirtyEight.com identified 11 features that define a film as a blockbuster. Those 388 films are listed here, beginning with number 62, Jaws; how many Best Picture winners can you pick out? You won’t find many. Only three Best Picture winners have grossed over $200 million domestically (in the United States), and only six winners are in the top 200 domestically grossing films of all-time. Does the Academy have a natural aversion to blockbuster films?

Examine the Best Picture nominee list closely. Star Wars is one of only six science fiction films in eight decades to receive a Best Picture nomination. I understand that science fiction does not typically stand out for nuance or impressively written scripts. In a lot of instances, a science fiction film shouldn’t get the honor of Best Picture. Did The Avengers deserve to win Best Picture? Absolutely not. That doesn’t prevent it from being one of my all-time favorite movies. But I have a special affection for hero stories and movies that stretch my imagination.

Other blockbusters and science fiction films, however, are more than blow-em-up spectacles. Unfortunately, I think the prejudice against genre films has led to some egregious oversights from the Academy. Escapism can create movies just as compelling as reflection can. That brings us back to the original Star Wars film. This masterpiece was a victim of the Academy’s predisposition against films about the extraordinary, and was ultimately passed over for the top award. If Star Wars didn’t win in 1977, I have to ask: can a science fiction movie ever win Best Picture?

Star Wars defied conventional Academy practices by actually receiving a Best Picture nomination in the first place. The film even took home seven trophies, primarily for its innovative approach to filmmaking. But at the end of the night, the statuette for Best Picture was awarded to Woody Allen’s Annie Hall. Don’t get me wrong. Annie Hall is a tremendous film. The movie is hilarious from beginning to end and holds up even after 37 years. It’s a rare older movie that feels like it could have been made today. And it defies awards expectations of its own as a comedy, which is so rare to see honored with an Oscar. It is also not nearly as innovative as Star Wars.

Consider: which movie has made a greater impact on world culture, Annie Hall or Star Wars? I challenge you to name any movie that has made a larger impact than Star Wars. But again, I understand if you disagree about cultural relevance being a factor in naming Best Picture. That is also an impact that cannot be fully measured for many years after a film’s release. So let’s dissect the iconic film for its specific merits.

In my view, a movie should be graded on plot, characters, acting, world building, creativity, innovation, subject matter, and historical relevance. Annie Hall gets high marks for several of these categories, while Star Wars is superior to most films in nearly every one.

Star Wars is, perhaps, the most technically innovative movie of all time. Sure, it doesn’t look like Avatar, but the original movie was made before computers were even a factor in filmmaking. In fact, the production of Star Wars helped to create the computer generated imagery that made movies like Gravity and The Avengers possible.

George Lucas, with very little money available to make his vision come to life, managed to create an entire universe of societies, spacecraft, and sentient beings of peculiar appearance, using only models and costumes. Lucas created the Wookiee, the Jawa, dozens of background alien species, and two legendary droids named C-3PO and R2-D2 without any help from the CGI that would eventually become synonymous with Lucasfilm and its spinoff company, Pixar.

However, these technical leaps don’t necessarily make a film worthy of Best Picture. If they did, Gravity would have been the 2013 winner. Thankfully, it wasn’t, but that’s because the story of Gravity, while interesting, was shallow and lacked any kind of memorable character. That might also be one of the potential weaknesses of Star Wars. Its characters may not be as complex as something from Shakespeare — but they are just as recognizable, if not more so. Are there any movie characters more well known than Luke, Han, Leia, Vader, or the droids?

Again, popularity does not mean a film is necessarily good. I can admit that Obi-Wan never made me cry like Oskar Schindler, and Luke isn’t perhaps as inspiring as Abraham Lincoln. But these characters live in a galaxy different from our own, and yet they still manage to make us feel as though we have joined them on their journey.

Luke Skywalker is offered as a stand-in for the viewer. He is a kid from a simple place looking to leave his world behind him when an unexpected turn of events leads him to the stars. He is motivated by a desire to accomplish something, and he believes the Galactic Empire needs to be brought down. He is a man who longs for his father, aspiring to be like him without even knowing who he was. It is a story familiar to every boy and girl who feels they are destined for greater things.

Luke has to come into his own while learning from his mentor, Ben Kenobi. Ben becomes a surrogate father — not just to Luke, but to those of us who want to believe we can achieve greatness. Ben’s climactic fight with his former protege, Darth Vader, ends with the mentor’s sacrifice before the eyes of his apprentice. Luke then has to rise up and become the new hero the Galaxy needs. It is the advice of his mentor, along with the assistance of his new friend, the roguish Han Solo, plus his newfound faith in his own ability and the world around him that leads Luke to an immeasurable victory as he brings down the planet-destroying Death Star.

Sure, Luke isn’t facing disease or dealing with being a slave, but he’s a young man fighting a literal galaxy of problems, dealing with his inadequacies and yearning to know about his parents and find himself. Perhaps the acting isn’t on par with Daniel Day-Lewis or Gary Oldman (though Oldman had been rumored to be joining the cast of the next Star Wars flick), but there is never a scene in the original movie that takes the audience out of the moment through bad acting or unbelievable sets. What Lucas and the actors did was create an unbelievable world and make it believable. That type of talent should be honored.

The Star Wars films aren’t overtly about the human condition and they don’t raise awareness to some controversial topic, but they do follow a time-honored story structure, one that has been imitated many times since and has been honored in other, non-sci-fi films. Star Wars is about the hero’s journey, a narrative technique that is rooted in ancient mythology.

As explained by mythologist Joseph Campbell, the hero’s journey is the arc that follows a hero from the common to the extraordinary. This hero is often an everyman on an unlikely quest, an epic campaign to overcome the greatest odds. The hero will grow as a person either for surviving the trek or for dying a legend. These stories also often follow the friends of the protagonist as they come into their own and help the hero defeat the great evil. The hero’s journey may not involve human suffering in a way we can always relate to, but that doesn’t make a film any less qualified to be considered the Best Picture of the year.

Perhaps you believe the Best Picture winner should speak to something beyond what appears on the screen. As I said, great movies must have compelling subject matter. A Best Picture winner should teach a lesson and make us think about how we live our lives. Star Wars, with its philosophical underpinnings and questions on war and proper government, accomplishes all of this in spades.

Star Wars is packed with philosophy. Questions of destiny and the great interconnectedness of all life fill the movie from beginning to end. The Force, introduced in the first Star Wars movie, took traits from religions and philosophies across the globe to create a mystical, mythical energy force that binds us and guides us. Fans of Star Wars were inspired by Kenobi to listen to our surroundings and become attuned to the space in which we live. And the Force is just the glue that holds together the enormous world built by Lucas and his crew.

No movie was as thorough as Star Wars in creating an entire universe. Many lines in the 1977 film were carefully crafted to construct a history of this galaxy so different from our own. When speaking to Obi-Wan, Luke casually mentions “The Clone Wars” years before this event would be expounded upon. Obi-Wan’s lines about Luke’s father display an uncertainty that takes on new meaning when the viewer learns the truth in the sequel. What other movie has created lines so rich in content that books could be written for years expanding on just several hours of film?

If a movie is funny, dramatic, original, compelling, and innovative, what else does it take to be given the honor of being called Best Picture? By denying the statue to Star Wars, was the Academy simply making a pretentious statement against a movie that requires such suspension of disbelief? What is the point of movies if not to create new worlds and tell stories that can’t really happen? As much as I am a fan of realism in movies, escapism should not be so marginalized.

Lucas and the folks at Lucasfilm created the world’s most enduring movie, lasting across generations of fans and penetrating our culture in every way. And even if you take away all that has happened since the 1977 release, what you are left with is still a modern myth, a compelling narrative of trial and loss, a rich plethora of characters who take us on a heroic journey to a galaxy far, far away.

Star Wars was the most innovative and influential film of the 20th century. It was unjustly denied its due respect from the Academy by not receiving the award for being the Best Picture of 1977.

Start new movement in WWE: We want Dolph!

Not every professional wrestling fan is the same. Some still watch as if it’s all real. Others insist that while some of it is obviously scripted, there is also plenty that isn’t.

And then there are those fans, like me, who know that the moves hurt, the shows are predetermined, and the performers are incredible athletes and artists. These fans also have a tendency to analyze every single aspect of a professional wrestling show until they no longer enjoy them. I am no different.

Over-analyzing ruins our enjoyment of pro wrestling. We watch every match and get offended when our favorites lose or when we think a bad decision was made. (Though, really, everybody was offended when The Undertaker lost at WrestleMania XXX.) Instead of being impressed by the performance of these amazing athletes, we put too much stock into who gets to win in a fictional fight.

Non-fans look at us and question why we care so much, but the answer isn’t as crazy as it sounds. Despite being predetermined, the amount of money earned by a wrestler is directly connected to his place on the wrestling card and whether or not he wins these fictional matches. So, when Batista returned to WWE to win the Royal Rumble match after being gone for four years, he guaranteed himself hundreds of thousands — perhaps millions — of dollars for working a WrestleMania main event most fans believed belonged to Daniel Bryan or CM Punk.

In response, the fans took over the shows, shouting at WWE for its mistakes and showing that “the WWE Universe” would not accept the injustice. Though Punk left the company, possibly in protest against the Batista decision, Bryan was rightly given the chance to headline WrestleMania and earn the money, and the moment, he deserved.

Bryan appears to be the leader of a new movement in WWE centered on incredibly talented young workers like Cesaro, the Shield, and Bray Wyatt. I want to be happy with what we are being given, especially since the last few big events have been so good. I’ve even come to consider myself a true fan of professional wrestling again.

However, there is still one person WWE is ignoring, one who deserves another chance to be treated as a top star. That is Dolph Ziggler.

Ziggler is arguably the best or second-best wrestler in WWE; only Bryan can be considered better, though there are others who are close. Every match in which Ziggler competes is an absolute show-stealer. He consistently makes bad wrestlers look great, taking his opponents’ big moves and making it look like he was hit by a Mack truck every time. Viewers believe he is about to win matches when he hits moves that have never before given him a victory simply because he is so great at getting fans invested in every hit, toss, and pin. Ziggler does it all while exuding a cockiness and swagger (not Jack) that is hard to miss. In short, Dolph Ziggler is a true star.

If being successful in professional wrestling is completely dependent on having “the look” and being able to speak well, then Ziggler should be esteemed on the same level as The Rock. Ziggler is in spectacular shape and has been for years. He’s incredibly athletic and boasts a six-pack that could make Channing Tatum jealous. He’s no slouch on the microphone either. Every single time Ziggler is given the chance to speak, he hits it out of the park.

Ziggler is technically a two-time world champion in WWE. Neither of his title reigns, however, holds any significant place in history. His first championship lasted about as long as Triple H’s entrance, and his second was spent with a debilitating concussion. Neither reign gave Ziggler an opportunity to show everyone what he was capable of, and “The Show Off” deserves that chance.

To be clear, I’m not asking for Ziggler to have another title reign anytime soon; I’d like Bryan to remain champion for as long as possible. But I do think Ziggler needs to be put back into a stronger position on the card, eventually to be seen as a credible threat to Bryan or anyone else who may be WWE World Heavyweight Champion.

Ziggler is as popular as a guy without the backing of the machine can be. Just watch his Money in the Bank cash-in last year. The crowd absolutely exploded — and Ziggler was the bad guy.

So what happened? Whose Fruity Pebbles did Dolph urinate in to get the Zack Ryder treatment? For months, Ziggler has been put lower and lower on the card, having his stock completely devalued after an overdue build-up. The fans, despite being vocal in their support for him, have become used to seeing Ziggler lose. Still, WWE managed to treat him worse.

This week on Raw, Ziggler was eliminated from a battle royal by Santino Marella. Using his finisher of an eye poke with a sock puppet. And the crowd booed. Violently. At a comedic character who is usually well-loved.

People are sick of seeing Ziggler buried in favor of those without talent or without futures in professional wrestling. The “Yes! Movement” took off because the audience saw in Bryan an incredible wrestler who worked for his entire life to reach the professional peak, despite the long odds. Now it’s time for us to get behind Ziggler in the same way.

The audience in every city needs to let their voices be heard. Let WWE know that we want Dolph. When we’re told to watch an offensive segment with a little person dressed up as a bull, we need to chant for Dolph. When we’re told to accept Randy Orton versus John Cena again, we need to say no. It’s time to tell WWE that we want Dolph.

Ziggler has worked incredibly hard to get where he is. He’s as talented in the ring or on the mic as anyone else, and he obviously trains hard to keep his body in top condition. Vince McMahon has proven he can be persuaded. Cesaro’s and Bad News Barrett’s current pushes show that. Bryan and Punk are proof that being as good as you can be can actually get you somewhere in WWE. It just requires a lot more work from the fans.

We’ve proven that it can be done: Daniel Bryan is WWE World Heavyweight Champion. Now we have to do it again. For our entertainment, and because he deserves it, tell WWE at every event you attend that WE WANT DOLPH.

One final thought: If you need proof that Dolph Ziggler is incredible, check out any of his matches on WWE Network, specifically, his work with Punk and Bryan. Make sure you tell WWE that I referred you; I could use a new t-shirt.

As beer flows, so my mind goes: Sint Amatus 12

Bottled & Corked expands its scope beginning this week to include another of man’s great creations: beer. We hope you enjoy the additional coverage in one of our most popular columns.

The first sip is always the most important. Don’t doubt this. The first sip determines everything.

It’s the temperature shock when your lips first encounter the cold brew. It’s the carbonation dancing on your tongue. It’s the unexpected (or expected) dose of yeast, hops, and malt that washes over your taste buds. It’s the delayed swallow as you contemplate what just hit you. It’s that brief nanosecond when your eyes close and your senses widen. It’s the smile, the ingratiating nod of approval you pass the bartender’s way, or the audible, “Ahhhhh…” that escapes your throat.

Are you thirsty yet?

Whatever the reaction, there is an undeniable moment, however brief, of sincere enlightenment that accompanies the first sip of a truly great beer. After all, you know what they say about first impressions. Tasting a great beer for the first time is like a rite of passage. It means a lot to take that first sip.

Beer and wine lovers all have a “wish list” — a queue that continues to grow along with one’s passion for the beverages. Every time we read a slew of reviews in Wine Enthusiast or skim through user musings on BeerAdvocate.com, our wish list lengthens due to that human instinct to blurt out (either audibly or to ourselves), “I must try that,” or, “I want that.”

With the tantalizing rise in worldwide craft, micro, and home beer brewing, beer tastings have become as commonplace as wine tastings. There’s something out there for everyone. Every taste, every flavor seems to exist, especially in the beer market.

Within the world of craft brewing, there’s an intentional emphasis placed on the importance of not just the initial taste, but the entire beer-drinking experience. Risk-taking brewers have transcended the commonplace pilsners and lagers that make up the mass market of everyday brews in favor of creating niche beers for the most discerning tastes.

Experimental brewers are going to great lengths to make their beer stand out from the crowd. Organic beers (like Bison Brewing’s Organic I.P.A.), chocolate and peanut butter stouts (like Duclaw’s Sweet Baby Jesus!), specialty holiday seasonal beers (like Troegs Mad Elf or Samuel Adams Old Fezziwig Ale), renewed interest in ancient beer brewing techniques (like Dogfish Head’s Midas Touch, supposedly based on beer recipes that date back to 700 B.C.), and beers that actually have animal ingredients (like Ramsgate’s Black Pearl Oyster Stout) have surfaced to delight curious beer drinkers.

Even importers are finally taking risks on bringing in traditional and specialty brews from all corners of the world. For example, it used to be that Hoegaarden’s witbier and Stella Artois’ pale lager were the only Belgian beers found in U.S. bars (maybe you’d find the occasional specialty Trappiste brew, like Chimay Grand Reserve). Now, American drinkers are being treated to previously unavailable international beer gems; many higher-end bars are constantly rotating their stock of “what’s on tap” to keep consumers’ options plentiful.

This is a good thing. Consumers are learning about all that’s available beyond Miller, Coors, and Bud. There’s something special about the direction craft and micro brewers are taking; they’re attempting to create flavors and experiences beer drinkers have been craving, while at the same time continuing to satisfy the expectations relative to what made drinkers fall in love with beer in the first place. I don’t mean to diminish the common, everyday beer. (I mean, as I write this, I have a Yuengling Lager close at hand.) There is a comfort in the “old fall-backs” that keep us returning for more. But the human spirit is, by nature, curious, and we crave what we’ve never had.

Enter the “wish list.” It’s time to make some of those wishes a reality. Recently, I’ve been indulging in some new beers (well, new to me). A beer that I was able to strike off my wish list was De Struise Brouwer’s Sint Amatus Ootsvleteren 12. It’s no secret to those who know me best that I am an avid Belgian beer fanatic, so this brew has been on my radar for awhile.

I was able to order a bottle from a delightful purveyor of all things Belgium, so thanks to Kurt at BelgiumInABox.com, I could finally try this beer. I purchased a single 33-centiliter bottle from the 2010 vintage. (Yes, a bottle-aged beer … sounding a little like a wine? Well, it should).

Before I get to that precious first sip, here are some details about the brewery. De Struise started in 2006 and was turning out fine microbrews in Oostvleteren, Belgium, by 2009. The company brews a whole line of both traditional and experimental brews. (I’ve also tried their 2011 vintage Christmas beer called Struise Tsjeeses … out of this world and unique.)

The Sint Amatus 12 is named after a real Benedictine monk of that name. With elaborate label artwork, the Sint Amatus bottle stands out. What’s really unique and intriguing about this beer is that, while on the surface it seems just like any other traditional Belgian dark, quad ale, this one is aged in used Kentucky bourbon barrels. Most notably, Struise uses barrels from Woodford Reserve, a prominent small-batch bourbon producer in the United States.

Now, for that first sip.

Beer name: Sint Amatus Oostvleteren 12 (2010 vintage), 33-cL bottle

Type of glass: Trappiste beer chalice-style glass; I used a St. Bernardus glass

Other info: 10.5 percent alcohol by volume; misleadingly strong, should be a “sipper;” at around 300 calories, it’s filling, too — not a “lite” beer

Tasting notes: The nose was unassuming and what was expected of a strong, dark Belgian ale, especially a quad ale. The yeast and malt are prominent, even on the nose.

At first sip, the palate is overwhelmed (in a good way!) by the sweetness of candy sugar and malt, but it’s smooth. Judging by the age of the bottle, the bottle conditioning has a lot to do with the smoothness factor. It was so easy to drink.

Now, about those bourbon barrels … the flavor is there, but it is kind of hidden; it’s an afterthought on the back of the tongue. The wood taste and potency of the bourbon mixes well. It is more in the aftertaste, if anything.

After drinking nearly the entire glass, well past that excitement of the first sip and on to the sheer contentment of the whole experience, I wondered if a younger bottle (a 2013, perhaps?) would have the bourbon barrel wood more potent and up-front. Needless to say, while the beer is no longer on my wish list, it has certainly moved to my list of favorites.

Score: 4.75 out of 5

Season 7, Episode 4: ‘The Monolith,’ part 4

A thought struck me about an inevitable plot point we are all overlooking. It was laid out years ago, but we seem to have forgotten about it. Before the end of the series, Roger Sterling will die.

The Russian writer Anton Chekhov famously said, “If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off.” Way back in our first chapter, season 1, Roger suffered two heart attacks. That health scare served a narrative purpose at the time, offering Roger a shot to reform his ways — from which he promptly back-slided. But my sense is that, given the nature of Mad Men storytelling, Roger’s heart disease is not a resolved plot point.

“The Monolith” brought this to mind because of Roger’s struggle, both of will and of force, to remove his daughter from the upstate commune. Yes, giving Roger an overnight stay at the hippie stronghold was a way to take his licentious behavior to its absurdist end and hold a mirror up for him to choose a path. But I think the rift with his daughter is also being played up to add stress to the character.

Combined with his drug use and the ongoing civil war at SC&P, Roger’s heart surely cannot take much more stress. He is also trying to navigate a difficult relationship with a lovechild and the muse he can never have. I have to believe all these factors are conspiring to send Roger to an early grave.

And Roger’s death would serve the greater story as well. Staring at Roger’s ashen face in a casket would certainly shake Don Draper, quite possibly providing the last, great catalyst he needs to get a handle on his own behavior. For a series taking its final bow, a Sterling funeral would be a perfect venue for a showcasing of old faces (where are you, Sal?) and a forcing of reconciliations (Mona and Margaret? Don and Betty? Pete and Trudy? Peggy and Ted?).

With Roger out of the picture, the breakup of SC&P might not come to fruition, but a major restructuring would be in order. Bert Cooper might decide the time has finally come to ride off into the sunset, eliminating both the S and the C, making way for Draper, Olson, and Campbell.

I wouldn’t be surprised for Roger’s third and final heart attack to be the cliffhanger that has us on pins and needles until 2015. And as much as I love the character, it would be a fitting end for the Mad Man most willing to throw caution to the wind.

Finding Jedi path to mindfulness through yoga

Growing up, I wanted to be a Jedi like my favorite characters in Star Wars: training with lightsabers, using the power of my mind to control my environment, and realizing galactic-sized accomplishments. Mostly, I associated being a Jedi with power and running your own life. (Of course, that isn’t entirely accurate, but 9-year-old me liked to pick and choose the information I absorbed.)

A decade and a half later, I decided to revisit my ambitions of becoming a Jedi, but not for the power (which leads to the dark side), but for the mindfulness.

I didn’t realize it when I was younger, but being a Jedi has more to do with your mind than with your body. And on my quest to improve my physical health, I discovered that yoga and Jedi training have a lot of similarities. I found that not only were the physical benefits of yoga amazing (greater flexibility, less muscle soreness after working out, better posture, less pain in old injuries), but the mental and spiritual benefits far surpassed my expectations.

Like a Jedi, who needs a master to train him, throughout my own mindfulness practice, Yoda frequently pops into my head. This funny little green man with his backward phrasing whispers words of encouragement as I try to align myself with the Force.

I had read up on yoga practices before attempting any poses, and my anxiety had already gotten the better of me and psyched me out. I had to win at this. I kept thinking that maybe if I were as prepared as possible, I could be really good at it, blow through the different yoga positions, master each one in turn. But I couldn’t relax and enjoy the moment.

So I began my first day on a yoga mat with the book The Yoga Body Diet in front of me. When I couldn’t balance in several poses in the workout, I immediately became frustrated, angry with myself for not being able to do something I viewed as simple. I couldn’t do it. And just as I was about to scold myself for being incompetent, a voice popped into my head.

Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger; anger leads to hate; hate leads to suffering.

I feared I would fail. I became angry when I didn’t immediately master the yoga practice, and if I continued down this path, not only would I suffer, but those around me would as well. I didn’t want to turn into Darth Vader.

Shannon Paige, writer, sacred activist, and yoga teacher, said during one of her TED talks that yoga doesn’t solve depression or heal broken hearts, but it works as a mindfulness tool in overcoming these parts of life because “yoga works by creating the mind, body, breath connection.”

To connect mind, body, and breath and create self-awareness. To connect with yourself and with what’s around you. To tap into the Force. That’s what I want. But I knew I wasn’t in a good place to start with in that moment.

In a dark place we find ourselves, and a little more knowledge lights our way.

Thank you, Yoda.

And light my way it did. I started with step 1 instead of jumping into the poses. I started with breathing. It was time to “unlearn what you have learned,” as Yoda would say. I learned that the body interacts with the breath at a specific point in the respiratory cycle to give you a place where you learn new information, both mental and muscular.

“At the very emptiest point of every breath that you have, just before the breath becomes an inhale, you have the capacity to learn something new. Just depends on what you’re learning,” Paige said.

And with each breath, I began unlearning and letting go of 25 years of backed-up negativity: my fears of inadequacies, rejections, disappointments, failures, and what-ifs. Because I had held onto everything for so long, I couldn’t even imagine being happy, let alone actually experience it. But with each deep breath — the kind that fills your entire body — I began to look at my accomplishments, relationships, and friendships and restore my belief in myself.

Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.
— Yoda to Anakin Skywalker in Revenge of the Sith

I fear so much, but in letting go of some of those fears, maybe I can find some peace and calm. The fears will always exist, as will the negative things and tragic occurrences in this life, but it’s how we react to them that allows us to experience peace and a connection with the Force.

I had wanted yoga to solve my anxiety and depression problems, but yoga isn’t about solving problems to create peace and calm. It’s about what goes on inside ourselves each and every day.

Most modern yoga actually creates tension in order to teach you how to release it. Breathe in tension and then breathe it out. It’s not about our weight, anxiety, depression, illness, or heartbreak. Yoga is about connection and those links between our mind, body, spirit, and the Force. And now I feel that connection each day.

What you get out of daily mindfulness practice is what you put into it. “You only find what you bring in,” the Jedi master said to Luke Skywalker before he entered the cave in The Empire Strikes Back. Similarly, if you go into yoga with your type-A personality and think it’s going to solve all your problems, you’re sure to be disappointed. But if you start practice with the mindset that you’re going to understand yourself better and that this will help you take control of yourself and your surroundings and your interactions with others — Do or do not, there is no try — if you can do that, then there’s no telling where you may end up and what you may discover about yourself.

And if you start to feel disconnected again, just remember to breathe.

Size matters not. Look at me. Judge me by my size, do you? Hmm? Hmm. And well you should not. For my ally is the Force, and a powerful ally it is. Life creates it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us and binds us. Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter. You must feel the Force around you; here, between you, me, the tree, the rock, everywhere, yes. Even between the land and the ship.
— Yoda to Luke Skywalker on Dagobah in The Empire Strikes Back

Arrow dodged network ax, took time to get good

Spoiler warning: This column discusses recent plot details for Arrow. Proceed with caution.

With so many television shows on the air to choose from, a series has to be conscientious of its audience and draw viewers in quickly or risk cancelation. However, some shows take a little longer than others to prove they’re worth watching. Last week, I talked about how Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t really hit its stride until Captain America: The Winter Soldier completely changed the rules. Another superhero-based show, Arrow, has similarly improved with time.

When Arrow premiered, I never considered not watching it, although I had enjoyed Justin Hartley’s portrayal of Oliver Queen on Smallville and wasn’t looking forward to seeing someone new in the role so soon. When I heard The CW was going with a darker, grittier tone for the series — more like the Christopher Nolan Batman films — I began to get more interested in the show and feel a little more comfortable with a new actor in the role. I was not at all familiar with Stephen Amell when he was cast, so I was curious to see what this version of the Green Arrow story would be like.

Arrow began with Oliver’s rescue from the island where he had been stranded for five years. He was brought home to a mother, sister, and friends who all believed he had died when his father’s yacht sank. After his return to Starling City, Oliver took on the identity of “the Hood,” seeking out corrupted men whom his father had named in a secret journal. The show is also punctuated with flashbacks of Oliver’s time on the island — his transformation into the Oliver Queen of the present day.

While I enjoyed the show from the beginning, I didn’t love it. For one thing, I really hated the use of voiceovers in the early episodes. There’s an art to using a voiceover well, and Arrow just didn’t get that. (See Burn Notice for an example of good voiceover use.) Clearly, Oliver needed someone else on his side to speak to and share his plans with. Thankfully, the powers that be understood this as well, and it wasn’t long before Oliver was forced to take his bodyguard, John Diggle, into his confidence. Almost immediately, the voiceovers ceased, which improved the show greatly.

The flashbacks were another questionable style choice from my perspective. Like voiceovers, there’s an art to properly using flashbacks without making them seem overdone or pointless. While I didn’t love the flashbacks at first, they have grown on me as we’ve seen more of the island where Oliver was marooned. I liked the casting of Manu Bennett as Slade Wilson, one of Oliver’s few allies on the island, and I prefer Sara Lance on the island to her presence in Starling City. The parallels to the present day and the consequences of the choices made on the island are much clearer this season, making the flashbacks themselves much more relevant.

Another improvement came with the addition of Felicity Smoak to Team Arrow. Felicity recurred during the first half of the first season, then discovered Oliver’s true identity around the middle of the year. She quickly became a fan favorite as well as a favored love interest for Oliver. To be honest, there were many times during the first season in which Diggle and Felicity were the main incentive to keep watching the show. I loved those two characters, and while I began to like Oliver more and more, Diggle and Felicity were still my favorites. Even now, I think I like them just a little more than I do Oliver.

The last several episodes of season 1 really began to show how potentially great this series could be, all leading straight from one into the next as a multi-part finale. In the season-ender, the writers raised the stakes even higher by killing Oliver’s best friend, suddenly showing fans that characters on this show aren’t as safe as we think they are.

The momentum from the finale carried over into the second season and set up a complete change in Oliver. In order to honor his friend Tommy’s memory, Oliver changed his methods: he decided he will no longer hunt down the names in his father’s journal and he will not shoot to kill. As much as I hated seeing Colin Donnell leave the series, this was the turning point that pushed the series from, “eh, it’s not bad,” to, “wow, this is really good TV.”

This second season has been a huge improvement over the first. Oliver is now one year removed from the island and has settled into life back home; despite losing his best friend, he has found a renewed purpose in his mission. Ever since the midseason reveal that Slade, the man who taught Oliver to fight and survive on the island, was still alive and plotting against Oliver, the season has improved even more.

The last few episodes have left me on the edge of my seat, and I’m sure many fans are still reeling from Moira Queen’s death two weeks ago in an episode that marked the start of a four-part season finale arc. Honestly, if the writers of Arrow were behind other DC Comics properties, like the new Batman vs. Superman and Justice League films, I’d probably be a lot less worried about how they’re going to turn out.

Arrow still isn’t a perfect show, but it was definitely worth sitting through those voiceovers and other misfires in the stumbling episodes early in season 1. The characters have each evolved over the course of this season, Oliver’s sister Thea in particular. I used to find her merely annoying and spoiled, but she really has really matured a lot from the girl who partied too hard and crashed the brand new car she received for her birthday last year. I only hope this trend continues next season.

My biggest complaint with the show at the moment is that the writers don’t seem to understand that Laurel Lance just doesn’t fit in this show. While the other characters have grown and added depth in season 2, Laurel seems to have remained pretty much static over two seasons — occasionally she takes steps forward only to fall farther back. I’ve tried to like her, and I have nothing against Katie Cassidy, but every scene Laurel is in — except the scenes that feature only Laurel and her sister Sara — just feels awkward and forced. While the show itself continues to raise the stakes and improve on a weekly basis, Laurel is holding it back from becoming really great. I have a feeling Laurel won’t be going away anytime soon, especially if the show wants to follow comic mythology, but I hope writers recognize the failings in her character and start improving the way they write her.

As I mentioned above, the season finale has essentially been a four-part episode, with the third part airing last night. Judging from the suspense of these last three episodes, I can only imagine what the finale has in store. I predict Oliver is going to have to team up with his previous enemy, Malcolm Merlyn (because I won’t believe Thea shot him until I see a body to prove it) in order to get rid of Slade, and I can’t wait to see how that plays out. I’m excited to have John Barrowman back on the show, and I love seeing unlikely allies forced to work together; it always brings out interesting aspects of each character.

I’ve read that the show will shift somewhat in tone again going into season 3, and I can only hope it continues improving as it has this season.

Sure, there are some shows that just aren’t worth your time and you’re better off giving up on them. I probably should have quit on Heroes after season 2, but I just couldn’t let go. (Even worse, I’ll probably check out the new series when it premieres.) And then there are some shows that you will love right from the start, but the network just won’t get behind them. (I’m looking at you Fox: how dare you cancel Almost Human.)

Then there are the shows like Arrow and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. that just need a little extra time to live up to their potential. And once they do, you won’t regret a minute you spend watching them.

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