fireworks by mitski // the book of hours: love poems to god by rainer maria rilke // garden song by phoebe bridgers // the tree of life (2011, terrence malick) // “today means amen” by sierra demulder // various storms and saints by florence + the machine // amy & roger’s epic detour by morgan matson // the perks of being a wallflower (2012, stephen chbosky) // the hours by michael cunningham // the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde // the iliad by homer // letters to felice by franz kafka // chungking express (1994, wong kar-wai) // unknown // the get down (2016-2017, bar luhrmann & stephen adly guirgis) // letters to a young poet by rainer maria rilke // a burning hill by mitski // her (2013, spike jonze) // a little larger than the entire universe by fernando pessoa // the undressing by li-young lee // the brothers karamazov by fyodor dostoyevsky // night sky with exit wounds by ocean vuong // triple dog dare by lucy dacus // twin peaks: the return (2017, david lynch & mark frost)
midsommar (2019, ari aster) // taxi driver (1976, martin scorsese) // charles bukowski, source unknown // donnie darko (2001, richard kelly) // “litany in which certain things are crossed out” from crush by richard siken // little women (2019, greta gerwig) // alameda by elliott smith // book of hours: love poems to god, written by rainer maria rilke // mr robot (2015-2019, sam esmail) // “come to me, i am beautiful” by ioanna tsatsou // last night i dreamt that somebody loved me by the smiths // “visitor” by bryan washington // twin peaks: fire walk with me (1992, david lynch) // no choir by florence + the machine // hotel room (1931) & looking out (1950) & automat (1927) & morning sun (1952), painted by edward hopper // nobody by mitski // “god is burning”, from the undressing by li-young lee // in the shadow of the american dream, written by david wojnarowicz // two days, one night (2014, luc & jean-pierre dardenne) // a little life, written by hanya yanagihara // 500 days of summer (2009, mark webb) // wrong train by the psychedelic furs // the haunting of hill house (2018, mike flanagan) // demi moore by phoebe bridgers // september 24 (2010) + witch trials (2018) + every door (2018) + percy (2018), painted by philip geiger // the notebooks of malte laurids brigge, written by rainer maria rilke // the diaries of franz kafka, written by franz kafka // a little larger than the entire universe, written by fernando pessoa // one reflection (1998) + comfort mound (1999) + slide (2000) + double single (1998), painted by clive smith
You should probably watch Riverdale. If you like small town murder, retro aesthetic and trashy teen drama, you should absolutely watch Riverdale. If you don’t have the same appreciation for that combination as I do though, you should still probably watch it. Soon, if you can. Not because it’s flawless (oh, it’s flawed) or because all the characters are complex and nuanced (oh boy are they not) or because the writing is always smart and deft (oh dear me), but because Riverdale has something television could use a lot more of. Style.
I’m not talking about the pseudo-lynchian vibe or the way the town itself feels stuck decades in the past despite a modern setting, though those are both part of it. I’ve heard the show described as both a Twin Peaks-like and a poor man’s Stranger Things, and while neither of those classifications are entirely wrong, I think they do Riverdale’s unique contributions to the medium a disservice. Where these other shows cemented themselves in sci-fi and cosmic horror, Riverdalefeels almost gothic. It never touches the level of John Carpenter nostalgia of the latter, nor the shiver-inducing surreal quality of the former. What it does do is look very, very pretty.
Riverdale’s spectacular use of color shows from frame one, when two red-headed teens in snow-white garb appear on screen and walk slowly towards a shimmering waterline. The whole scene jumps. Pulses. Vibrates. And it only gets better from there. From the neon-lit booths of Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe to the snowy maple woods of the Blossom family syrup empire, the entire show oozes style like sap from a vein. Even simple shots – a house, a car, a bedroom – blast out brilliantly, whites on reds on greens, subtle sepia tints, perfect architectural symmetry. It’s gorgeous.
And the style doesn’t stop at the colors. It reaches from the 80s synth underscoring and the dreamlike flashbacks to Cole Sprouse’s gloomy teenage narration. Riverdale could not have a more appropriate name, as the town itself quickly becomes the show’s most intriguing and dynamic character.
Now it doesn’t all work all the time. The slow motion football plays and cheer squad numbers feel like they fell out of alternate universe where Zach Snyder directs teenage romcoms, much of the dialogue falls painfully short of that beautiful, so-scripted-it’s-perfect high school zen that Buffy the Vampire Slayer played off so deftly, and it can be hard to distinguish when the drama is parody from when it’s just bad writing. Make no mistake, Riverdale does not succeed in all its ambitions. But damn if it ain’t something to look at.
Of course there are other shows that gain major props on behalf of their style, but they don’t quite hit the same marks. For all they’re comic book inspiration, Arrow, Supergirl andThe Flash just don’t leap and dance the way Riverdaledoes.Game of Thrones has incredible production values and a gloriously realized world. No one would argue that. But the goal of that world and that production is to make a fantastical place feel grounded. The same can be said of HBO’s Westworld. This is not a knock against them. I have a strong love for Westworld,and of course these shows have moments of incredible grandeur. But their main objective, at which they succeed, is realism in the midst of total unreality.
Riverdale’sgoal is the opposite. It takes the Archie Comics universe of girl-next-door Americana and makes it feel like some beautiful, wild fantasy world of biker gangs and shady businessmen. It’s ridiculous. Sometimes so much that you’ll laugh. But ultimately, the vision of the storytelling and the talent of the cast make it feel fresh and exciting. So please watch Riverdale. TV’s never looked this good.
An Atreides Space Transporter. Space Transporters connect with the spacefaring Heighliners controlled by the Spacing Guild. Heighliners, controlled by mutated Guild Navigators, use the Holtzman effect to fold space and travel between planets. There’s also something to do with spice in there. And Padishah? And something with giant worms? I dunno. Dune is really confusing.
“Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me” (David Lynch, Michael J. Anderson, and Angelo Badalamenti) on May 16, 1992, at the 45th International Film Festival in Cannes, France.
(AP Photo/Gilbert Tourte)
Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me premiered at Cannes 30 years ago today.
