Breaking Bad: Does anything bad happen after this part?
I'm just not going to make it past episode three of Breaking Bad. You can't talk me into it, because even though it's the most-discussed TV show in America right now, I don't want to watch it. I'm a proud member of the Breaking Bad dropout club and I'm staying that way.
Modern Dads is a new reality television show on A&E that follows the lives of four stay-at-home fathers in Austin, Texas. There have only been three episodes so far, but it probably won't last long because—spoiler alert—it's very boring.
I admit I didn't join the Breaking Bad bandwagon for years. In 2008, a screenwriting professor suggested I watch the show after I wrote a similar screenplay about a woman with breast cancer who decides to take back her life—but I held off. In the flurry of grad school life, I didn't want to get sucked in to what everyone said was a completely addictive show. Until now.
In the last week, I've binge-watched every episode of Breaking Bad. I've been surprised, overwhelmed, humored, angered, saddened, and excited, and that's probably what show creator Vince Gilligan wants.
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.