The saga of Wisteria Lane comes to a conclusion with the DVD release of the eighth and final season of Desperate Housewives. An unabashedly tawdry domestic drama that breathed new life into the nighttime soap genre, creator Marc Cherry’s series used its central murder-mystery conceit as a pivot-point to explore all sorts of other suburban shenanigans over the years.
For friends Susan (Teri Hatcher), Lynette (Felicity Huffman), Bree (Marcia Cross) and Gaby (Eva Longoria), in the fictional town of Fairview, life is… well, complicated. United by their involvement in the death of Gaby’s loathsome stepfather (Alejandro Perez) from the previous season’s finale, the women find the airtight nature of their secret questionable and under siege when Bree receives an anonymous message intoning, “I know what you did.” Recriminations, panic and confessions ensue, naturally. As Renee (Vanessa Williams) tries to spark up some romance with hot new Aussie neighbor Ben (Charles Mesure) and Lynette and husband Tom (Doug Savant) try to navigate the rough waters of their separation, meanwhile, Susan jumps headfirst into a “relationship” with a volatile art professor (Miguel Ferrer) determined to coax out her wild side.
The show’s eighth season frequently reveals its age, honestly. The introduction of and focus on supporting characters other the main remaining quartet of friends often feels more geared toward guest star ratings-goosing than smoothly integrated storylines. The pair of episodes that brought the series to a close, “Give Me the Blame” and “Finishing the Hat,” wrap things up in a decent enough manner (there’s a nice wink to secrecy‘s pervasiveness in the last scene) considering some of the more far-flung and problematic plot arcs of the season. Sure, it leans on stereotypical dramatic devices (a birth! a wedding!), but the show has always at its core been a subversion of domestic expectation, and a peek over picket fences. Perhaps most unsatisfyingly, though, the episodes undercut the audience’s collective imagination by sketching out the futures of its characters a bit too specifically.
Spread out over five digitally mastered discs, and housed in a case with snap-in trays, Desperate Housewives: The Complete Eighth and Final Season comes to DVD in a nice set in turn stored in a complementary cardboard slipcover. The series’ trademark investment in primary colors — sometimes subliminal, sometimes not — comes through clear in a solid transfer, and the Dolby digital audio track is straightforward and robust, for a series that doesn’t have a lot of complicated aural design.
In terms of bonus features, the big inclusion here is a hearty behind-the-scenes featurette that casts a look back at series. Buoyed by sit-down chats with all the principals, this is a solid and well-produced piece of nostalgic reminiscence for fans. Aforementioned creator Cherry sits for an audio commentary track on the series’ finale, and talks about juggling disparate impulses in bringing his baby into the harbor. Along with a collection of previews, there is also a collection of deleted scenes and bloopers — the latter of which serves to remind viewers that the polished, finger-snapping tone of the show and some of its dialogue does not always come easy, or on first takes. Only demerits? What could have been, in the form of more audio commentaries or a look at fan goodbye parties and the like. To purchase the set via Amazon, click here. And if brick-and-mortar stores are still your thing, then by all means rock on with your bad self. C+ (Show) B (Disc)
Daily Archives: October 26, 2012
Yogawoman
Narrated by Annette Bening, Yogawoman is a rangy but lethargically paced documentary about the gender-specific practice of yoga, and a serviceable and well-meaning project that could have benefited from a stronger editorial vision.
Yoga is presently practiced by an estimated 20 million people in the United States, 85 percent of whom are women. But the ancient practice, born in India thousands of years ago, was actually designed specifically for men, and initially brought west by a lineage of male teachers. Directors Kate McIntyre Clere and Saraswati Clere shine a light on some of the world’s leading experts and teachers who have helped blaze a dynamic new trail for women, replacing yoga’s more rigid style with a more distinctly feminine practice that honors flow, strength, community, and even activism and the cyclical nature of women’s lives.
This is clearly a sermon to the choir — there’s little effort or care paid to an in-point for general audiences, even though Indra Devi, doyenne of yoga from the 1930s, is nominally touched upon. Yogawoman clearly has a lot to say, but it lacks the ability to cogently group and order its thoughts. Borderline inane narration (“Desperate to keep up with increasing pressures of the modern world, women are looking to find peace and balance in their lives”) does the material no particular good, undercutting the naturally sympathetic and erudite cadence of Bening, an avowed yoga practitioner.
Some of Yogawoman is quite interesting (in particular a seemingly successful “Art of Yoga” rehabilitative program for prisoners in a juvenile women’s system in San Mateo, California), and it makes a strong and easy connection between yoga and a more settled mind. The numerous physical health benefits of yoga are also addressed, though in ping-pong fashion. With a stronger narrative spine and a little more sense of gender-gap curiosity — about how and why this supposed “men’s practice” made the leap that it did — Yogawoman could itself bridge the gap between faithful yoga adherents and a general audience. As is, it does not achieve that. For the full, original review, from ShockYa, click here. Yogawoman opens this week in Los Angeles at the Laemmle Monica 4-Plex, NoHo 7 and Playhouse 7. For additional information on other theatrical engagements and the movie in general, click here to visit its website. (Shadow Distribution, unrated, 83 minutes)
Lunch
Lunch, from director Donna Kanter, is a documentary whose simple logline pretty much serves as an accurate barometer of one’s potential enjoyment. Over almost 40 years, a group of comedy writers and directors — including Sid Caesar, Carl Reiner, Arthur Hiller and many more — have gathered every other Wednesday for food and fraternal fellowship. The membership roster and the meeting places have occasionally changed, but the friendships forged and senses of humor indulged and displayed have remained steady. This nonfiction snapshot gives an overview of their time together, and in the process illuminates Hollywood spanning several eras. For the viewer for whom that sounds even remotely interesting, this is up your alley; others might want to skip it. For the full, original review, from ShockYa, click here. Lunch opens in Los Angeles this week at the Laemmle NoHo 7. For more information on the film, click here to visit its website. (Kanter Company, unrated, 78 minutes)
Citadel
Winner of the Midnighter Audience Award at this year’s SXSW Film Festival, Irish writer-director Ciarán Foy’s psychological horror movie Citadel centers on a stricken agoraphobe who’s struggling to raise his newborn daughter alone and protect her from a roving band of vicious thugs who look like Jawas and seem to be stalking them. Occasional bursts of effective atmospheric dread punctuate what is otherwise a thinly imagined genre exercise that would work far better as a short film. Aneurin Barnard’s lead performance is one of full investment, and a certain feverish intensity. But he’s too frequently grasping at straws, because Foy’s script for Citadel gives him nothing of convincing substance to hold onto. In stronger hands it could be read as a class parable; as is, it’s a muddled, pointless mess. For the full, original review, from ShockYa, click here. (Gravitas Ventures/Cinedigm/Flatiron Film Company, R, 84 minutes)