The summer between sixth and seventh grade was a long one. I was super gawky—already six feet tall, equally passionate about science and musical theater, with pants that never quite reached the ground—and I spent most of my days on the sofa, wolfing down episodes of The X-Files.
Today, the show celebrates the 20th anniversary of the day its first episode hit the air. As a tween, I couldn't have asked for a better role model than Agent Dana Scully.
"Orange is the New Black" (OITNB) premiered on Netflix on July 13 and I, like many others, settled down with a family sized bag of Sun Chips to unapologetically binge-watch the entire season that very same Saturday. It struck me how many people on the show are seen doing something that's unusual for television: reading books.
While watching the first episode the new season of the hit UK television drama Skins last week, I wasn't thinking about which character would have a confrontation with authorities or who was going to cheat on whom. The outspoken show about the notoriously experimental teens got me thinking about women at work.
Netflix's Orange Is The New Black debuted at a perfect time for numerous reasons—we were starving, really, for a racially diverse female-driven show unafraid to tackle queer and transgender narratives.
But the timing is particularly perfect politically, because now more than ever the shameful, counterproductive, racially biased and monumentally expensive criminal justice system deserves national interrogation, and this show could potentially help move that conversation forward.
Although its chiseled, aggressive men undoubtedly give the series a macho bent, this addictive blend of adolsecence and the paranormal is not without a solid cast of women--and after nearly three full seasons of dude-centric story arcs, I think it's time that the women of Teen Wolf got their fair share of the show's plot.
Orange is the New Black—the new Netflix original series premiering July 11—is a prison drama. But that's definitely not all it is. Following naïve yuppie Piper Chapman (Taylor Schilling) as she enters a women's prison for a 15-month stay, this rich, tactile show delves into gender and sexuality in a deeper way than first meets the eye.
With a wallop of a finale in which jobs were lost, marriages new and old were departed, men of God were socked in the nose, and Hershey's execs were befuddled, the penultimate season of Mad Men came to a close. And we hung on every word. Join us for a final trip through the halls of SC&P, won't you?
Welcome back to the second-to-last week of Mad Men Season 6 recaps! We already miss you, and damn if things aren't getting really interesting, too. This week, Annalee and Kelsey are both unable to report from their television sets, so I'm flying solo on a recap of this especially meaty episode. Read on for thoughts on ulterior motives, boarding-school drama, and the question of whether this show needs another Don Draper now that the first one seems to spend a lot of his time in the fetal position, listening to the Monkees.
Guy Hamdon is an average twelve-year-old boy cartoon character with a skateboard, pesky siblings, and a superhero alter ego. That alter ego happens to be a female superhero named SheZow. On the Hub network's new cartoon series of the same name, Guy shouts the magic phrase "You go, girl!" and gleans superhuman strength and speed, plus a skirt, go-go boots, and a hot pink shapeshifting car.
Welcome back to another week of Mad Men, wherein your faithful recappers recount the good, the bad, and the inevitable—speaking of which, it's too bad Kickstarter wasn't around in 1968, because Sally Draper's Therapy Fund would have been a slam-dunk project. Elsewhere, "The Favor" gives us a chance to talk about wounds, crushes, and who's got the better juice.