As I ponder over this tale, it’s not explicitly stated where “Snow White” is set geographically, but she mentions conflicts happening “in the south.” Now, I find myself wondering, “The south of what realm?” Additionally, there’s a place called the “Western Vale,” which interestingly enough, is also a region in the game “Guild Wars 2.” However, I can’t help but think it’s just a coincidence.
In the final episode of Season 2 of “Severance”, there’s a moment that seems both unavoidable and incomprehensible. So far, the show has built an almost impenetrable barrier between Mark Scout, who is grappling with grief following his wife’s death, and his counterpart within Lumon, Innie Mark S. These two characters are intrinsically connected; each Mark’s existence hinges on the other’s ongoing involvement in the process. Despite being essentially the same person, they are distinct entities. Innie Mark is unable to communicate with Outie Mark, and this inability to connect has been the primary source of conflict throughout the series.
In the third installment of “Dope Thief”, the chapter takes on a practical yet engaging role, expanding the setting and elevating the mortal risks for the characters. It subtly infuses an urban-western atmosphere into the narrative, leading up to a classic decapitation scene. The story finds Ray Driscoll trapped in Philadelphia, with danger breathing down his neck, but not just any ordinary danger. An ominous, high-stakes drug-dealing menace has emerged, threatening not only him, but also everyone in his circle.
1999 saw the birth of Providence Place, an architectural behemoth sprawling across a vast, underutilized swath of land bordering one of the city’s working-class communities. As I learned from conversations with locals, this mammoth shopping center, teeming with high-end retailers, wasn’t intended for the residents who lived nearby.
Post its construction, there was a concerted effort by politicians and developers to refine and revitalize the adjacent, economically disadvantaged neighborhood of Olneyville, home to Fort Thunder, an artists’ colony nestled within a forgotten warehouse. For years, this community had provided a sanctuary for Providence’s impoverished artistic class, offering them living and working spaces adorned with art and music amid the remnants of the city’s industrial past, as well as echoes of its post-war decline when businesses departed, leaving Providence fragmented by highways that turned it into a pit stop for travelers bound for bigger cities and more affluent suburbs.
In a new series called “Ludwig,” debuting on BritBox March 20, Mitchell plays John Taylor, a solitary puzzle creator who borrowed his pseudonym from Beethoven’s famous Symphony No. 9 album cover. When John’s identical twin brother, James – a detective with the police force – vanishes, he covertly steps into James’ shoes at the station to uncover the truth behind his disappearance. The six-episode series received rave reviews and impressive ratings during its U.K. premiere last year, earning it a second season renewal and talks about an American adaptation.
In the opening scene of “Yellowjackets,” the new season offers a fresh beginning, depicting a solitary frog hopping about. It eventually settles, inflating its moist sac and emitting an eerie cry that echoes across the landscape. As the camera pulls back, we see numerous similar frogs in a pond, engaged in mating calls, creating a cacophony of noises. This unsettling sound, it’s suggested, is the same one the Yellowjackets have been encountering in the forest. Sometimes, what seems terrifying or ominous is merely wildlife doing their part to survive and reproduce according to their natural instincts.
It’s good news that the interval between seasons will be significantly reduced compared to the three-year gap, as Stiller clarified there are no plans to prolong the wait to reveal what happened to Mark S and the Macrodata Refinement department. In fact, Stiller confirmed to The Hollywood Reporter last month that a writers’ room for season three is already operational.
1983 saw British-born Callender seated among the crowd at the Pasadena Civic Auditorium for the 35th Emmy Awards, hosted by Joan Rivers and Eddie Murphy. The nomination for his adaptation of Nicholas Nickleby, which had aired in syndication across the U.S., was up against two popular ABC series. As the night wore on, every other nomination seemed to be defeated. So when it came to Best Miniseries, Callender had already resigned himself to the idea that either The Winds of War or The Thorn Birds starring Richard Chamberlain would take the prize. But astonishingly, against all expectations, Nickleby emerged victorious. “When they announced the winner, I was frozen in my seat,” Callender recalls. “My companion jabbed me and said, ‘They’ve just mentioned your name.’ I looked up in disbelief, still not fully realizing that we had won.” It was a surprising turn of events.
In the second season of ‘Severance’, Britt Lower tackled an intricate acting puzzle by playing two contrasting characters: Helena Eagan, the rigid heiress of Lumon corporation, and her rebellious counterpart, Helly R. It appears that Helly – a character with her own free will, sharp humor, strong relationships with colleagues in macrodata refinement – could have been the person Helena might have become if she hadn’t been molded by her father to inherit the family business. (Lower jokes about the name’s similarity to ‘hell’). In the climactic finale, directed by Ben Stiller and written by showrunner Dan Erickson, both Mark S. (Adam Scott) and Helly make dramatic decisions that will undoubtedly ignite more conflicts between Innies and Outies: After successfully freeing his wife, Gemma (Dichen Lachman), from captivity, Mark S. stays behind and holds hands with his red-haired lover as they traverse the divided floor. And Helly rallies another department against Lumon’s severed-worker policy, reminding everyone that they are treated like “machines” that can be controlled at the company’s whim. (“They give us half a life,” she snarls, “and think we won’t fight for it.”)
In “Severance,” the exact year it’s set isn’t specified. Instead, the series mixes old and new technology in an unusual way, featuring a high-tech procedure that separates personal and professional lives alongside antiquated devices like televisions, cars, and phones from various eras. However, Ben Stiller, the director and executive producer, occasionally provides hints about the show’s world, using songs as reference points. For example, he chose “Love Spreads” by The Stone Roses, a song from 1994, which might hold personal significance for him and the creators. Nevertheless, this choice doesn’t help pinpoint the show’s time period, just like the rest of the eclectic soundtrack that spans different genres and decades. The music selection, drawn mostly from Stiller’s Spotify playlist filled with songs he believes fit “Severance,” is somewhat random and not as straightforward as viewers might expect.