Orange Is The New Black Season 2

It’s nearly time to lock it down for season 2 of Orange Is The New Black. This award winning original series from Netflix, will be paroled on June 6, and the wait has felt like a jail sentence for fans. The new season trailer was released back in April but in case you missed it, we’ve posted it here, and it looks like s**t’s gonna get real!


If you’re all caught up with season 1 you’ll know it ended in brutal fashion with Piper Chapman going all American History X on Pennsatucky. Between that and the new trailer we think it’s safe to assume she’s turned over a new leaf, but it’s looking decidedly rotten on the other side “I’m a lone wolf and a vicious one, don’t make me rip your throat out.” Has Piper, ahem, turned? I guess we’re going to find out if prison has changed her.


Piper Chapman (Taylor Schilling)

It appears most of our favourite inmates are still with us, although the fate of Pennsatucky is unknown. There’s a bit of fresh meat too, someone from Red’s past will challenge her on the inside, while Crazy Eyes has moved on from her Piper obsession and fixated on a new play thing. That should free up stalking space for Alex to win back the love of her life and one-time mule. Officer Bennett is back, but there’s no sign of his sensitive side as he starts rockin’ the asshole guard act. He could be taking up where ‘Pornstache’ left off. Poor Pornstache, we do hope he returns, he just brings so much gutter to the canteen.

The new season is looking mean, but with these nefarious yet charismatic characters, we just know there’s going to be plenty of hilarity too. At least we hope so. The show was placed in the TV comedy category last year where it must now remain. It will have the likes of Veep and Brooklyn Nine-Nine to contend with in the upcoming awards season but we’re confident that with good behaviour, or in this case bad, it will win its appeal.

The count-down is on, we’re ‘short’ now.


Iconaissance: a sweeping saga…

Forget McConaissance, it’s bigger than one man. Think Iconaissance. A growing movement of big screen performing arts master craftsman, sweeping across our small screens, recruiting new generations of fans and breathing life back into fans of performances past. The list of silver screen lions switching to a more domesticated environment is impressive, growing, and making us purr with contentment. Here’s an example of those you’ve probably already had in your lounge room or soon will:

1. Kevin Spacey (House of Cards)

2. Matthew McConaughey/Woody Harrelson (True Detective)

3. Kevin Costner (Hatfields & McCoys)

4. Jeff Daniels (The Newsroom)


The Newsroom

5. Kevin Bacon (The Following)

6. James Spader (Blacklist)



7. Martin Freeman/Billy Bob Thornton (Fargo)

8. John Malcovich (Crossbones)

9. Paul Giamatti (Downtown Abbey)

10. Claire Danes (Homeland)

11. Kiefer Sutherland (24)

But what’s behind the recent resurgence of some of our acting greats? Is it the ravenous viewer appetite for quality content and the emergence of new platforms? Maybe these ageing greats just need cash injections to supplement their retirement? Have these old dogs learned new tricks by embracing social media for self-promotion? The only thing I haven’t seen Kevin Spacey on is America’s Most Wanted. Spacey’s Oscar selfie alone won him marketing immortality and Matthew McConaughey is out-Starbucking Starbucks! Or could it be they have simply sat dormant in the cool shadows maturing like fine red wine waiting for a connoisseur like HBO or Netflix to throw an original content party and pop their cork? It might be a combination of some or all of the above. Perhaps we need to look to the past to find the answer.

The most prominent examples of this Iconaissance, Spacey and McConaughey, both flourished and thrived in the period known as the decade of drama: the nineties. Along with other seemingly lost stars, or those whose pace seemed to slow to a meander such as Edward Norton or Sean Penn, these gifted actors were all part of another movement; that of the American Indie Film. They rode the wave of the New World Order created by the likes of Soderbergh and Linklater, the Coen Brothers and Tarantino. The reinvigorated Sundance Film Festival provided the spotlight that brought the Indie out of the shadows. Check any “Top Ten”, or twenty five or one hundred film list and you’ll find most of the names I’ve mentioned so far, some are recurring favourites. In fact Spacey features most prominently and was voted actor of the decade by Empire. “And like that, poof. He’s gone.”

With the new millennium these icons of the industry disappeared from our theatres and subsequent collective conscious. The usual reasons for their Casper the Ghost impersonations spring to mind: Oscar curse, burn-out, tall poppy syndrome, fickle fans distracted by something shinier; the old “I             needed to find myself” routine, catastrophic extinction event…

My opinion: technological advances enabling the blockbuster epidemic, pushed drama to the brink of extinction. Big budget movies laden with special effects and lacking in meaningful dialogue flooded the market. In 1993 Jurassic Park pioneered the use of Computer Generated Images (CGI) in film which would lead to the Pixar phenomenon that started in 1995 with Toy Story. In 1998 Saving Private Ryan made all kinds of headlines for its 27 minute, $12 million opening sequence. But these movies still had soul, the audience was invited to have an intensely personal relationship with their characters, there was depth in their narrative.

What was the price of this technological filmmaking revolution? Storytelling in cinema has become the exclusive domain of the indie film maker with the major studios channelling greenbacks into aesthetics. Classically trained actors, artists, writers, professionals and master craftsman met a metaphorical end at the hands of a creativity sapping, cerebral cortex crushing, pulse film apocalypse. Movies are about muscles not monologues, sequels, not substance. The advent of digital imagery, novelty of 3D and the attempt by comic book nerds to take over the world; mean aesthetically appealing “bling” flicks attract the inbetweener demographic. This is the group that’s too old for Disney but too young to understand the nuances of a Quentin Tarantino masterpiece.  Buy-in from the inbetweeners and tapping into the inner Peter Pan of older demographics translated to Box Office (BO) cash and return sales on future instalments, enter the franchise. The addition of the lucrative merchandising revenue stream alone keeps the Benjamins trickling in long after the DVD is released. Hollywood has become a production line, critical acclaim and storytelling mean less to a major studio than its opening weekend projections. Yes franchises have always been around, and yes they have their place in the market, but we’ve reached saturation levels that only an aquatic animal can survive.

Network Television wasn’t fairing much better, chasing the advertising dollar like a tipped-off paparazzi, bombarding primetime with suburban garbage I could get Gladys Kravitz style in my own street. Whilst I can’t prove it I’m convinced reality TV, as it was coined, was responsible for Benjamin Buttoning the IQ of most of the First World Nations populous. The only small screen shining lights for drama of the noughties were the hard hitting The Sopranos and The Wire. The latter setting a Metacritic record in its fourth season with a 98% rating that would not be broken until seven years later by the fifth season of Breaking Bad with a 99% Metacritic rating. It should be noted both hailed from the HBO Original Programming lineup.


The Sopranos

A seed was sewn, and while we didn’t know it then, the Golden Age of Television was dawning. Many of the current crop of original programming hits claim to have looked to these noughties juggernauts as the Godfathers of episodic drama. When The Sopranos and The Wire finished in 2007 and 2008 respectively we were just getting our first taste of Breaking Bad. NCIS was starting to hits its stride and would become the number one scripted drama in America, a title it continues to hold despite being a Dramedy and not a traditional Drama. The downside being it has never really received any critical acclaim much to the chargrin of its regular 15 million plus viewership . DVD Box sets were also now starting to show up on household Christmas wish lists, another sign of things to come.

There are some from the era however who persevered. Tom Hanks is probably the standout, George Clooney and Matt Damon, Clint Eastwood and Morgan Freeman are perennials; many of these though choosing to take up behind-the-camera roles. Others who seemed to simply vanish include Tim Robbins, Kevin Kline, Edward Norton and Ralph Fiennes. Even Anthony Hopkins went dark. De Niro went from terrifying character to terrifying character to playing side-kick to up-start comedians. So, like any animal facing the destruction of their natural habitat, they evolve, move on; or die.

Now it appears they have followed the writing and the storytelling. Those who survived the destruction of their habitat are now gorging themselves on the rich, fertile plains, of television. It’s a landscape that has also undergone reformation due to tectonic plate shifting, the birth of the digital distribution, and the decay of appointment viewing. We’re in an era which has spawned a whole new generation of hungry content consumers, and a habit known as binging, taking content consumption and instant gratification to new levels. Spacey had this to say about the attraction of the small screen:  “The people who want to make character-driven dramas are all working in television now.” And there is plenty of great television right now, with and without A-list stars, Mad Men, Game Of Thrones, Dexter; Orange Is The New Black, House of Cards, True Detective; you could go on for hours. The mobility of storytelling on multiple devices, cheaper access (Netflix subscription per month is cheaper than the cinema admission price), the complexity of the arcs and character development that true creatives crave and thirst for, the removal of the pilot model and appointment viewing by digital distributors; has all combined and conspired to lure in our most talented dramatic actors.

Once known as the “Idiot Box” the TV, and every other device that can access data, is now a playground for the industry’s creatives; and a feast for the viewer who has little interest in what a Kardashian is doing at any given moment. Just like in Jurassic Park, “Life found a way. Our greats survived, they evolved, they found a way.

Welcome back everyone, we’ve missed you.

House Of Cards: Season 2 + Chapter 14 spoilers!


Leader of the free world issues Executive Order: “No spoilers, please.”  

That’s no token endorsement and one that Netflix can leverage off for seasons to come. Praise from the lips of the President of the United States of America to the ears of the global executive level and then some.

Now, since I don’t serve at the pleasure of the President, I feel zero compunction to comply with the directive. Sorry about that Chief. I have however inserted a chapter 14 spoiler alert further into the piece, for anyone reading who doesn’t want their viewing pleasure diluted. You’re reasonably sheltered first up though so HERE.WE.GO!

It’s Valentines Day and I’ve battened down the hatches, double checked the contents of my ration pack and notified my next of kin that I’ll be off-line for the next 13 hours. I wait for Netflix to hit the enter key. As I do, I find myself salivating, and I hadn’t even clumsily removed the lid off my first refreshing cider. There’s a nervous excitement as I wait for an old friend I haven’t seen in a while. At 6pm Australian Eastern Standard Time (AEST), I join millions of fans the world over to watch the juggernaut that is House of Cards, plough its way down the data cable and into my living room with such force; I could swear I felt the rush of air pass over my face and turn otherwise calm athena vertical blinds into a fury of fabric. It’s good to see you again Congressman Underwood…

The sophomore instalment follows the chapter sequencing of the previous season, with the opener being number 14, and every chapter has something to offer. Something that causes you to have a moment of rapid air intake (I had several imagined heart attacks attacks), or sit there slack-jawed, ignorant to the chilled alcoholic beverage you’re holding that soon goes warm from inattention. Something that makes you jump from the edge of the couch where you were precariously perched waiting for the next manoeuvre, fist pumping the air, hurling slanderous abuse at the victim; and exulting praise for the victor. Only to shamefully berate yourself as you’re reminded of the murderous histrionics of your champion. That’s right, I was rooting for Francis. Full credit to the creators, particularly showrunner Beau Willimon, for providing us with this story, these characters; whose apparent lack of morals have you constantly questioning your own. I was persistently seeking out, even willing redeeming qualities into the characters, in a bid to prevent my own unconscionable corruption. What’s more disturbing is that I did it out loud, alone, on Valentines Day. I was talking to a fictional character. But wasn’t that the point? To participate, bear witness, play accomplice…? I did it all, and I loved every moment, no longer the bystander content to rubber-neck at the scene of a crime.  You’re on the other side of the police tape now, moving amongst the carnage, immersed (I suddenly look at my fingernails for epithelial evidence). The fascination, the devastation, the triumph. Frank’s battle became my cause, his victory my elation, his crime my guilt.

At its core ‘Cards’ is about power and relationships. The rotunda halls simply serve as the funnel to ensure every tear shed, every bead of sweat exuded, and every last drop of blood rung out from its characters made its way to me; pooling around my feet. Season 2 delves deeper into the dark recesses of the Underwood’s, as individuals, and as an empire. An empire built on top of the carcasses of friend and foe alike, although I imagine their Facebook friends list would be a short read. The push to the top of the food chain even has its own hashtag #OneNationUnderwood, which would make a great slogan for a campaign, or even the Underwood pairing itself. In fact, the depths we descended to this season were almost terrifying and I feared I would never see daylight again. With so much more still to explore, and explain, between these two characters; I’m considering leaving bread crumbs and a Dolphin torch out for myself in season 3.

Frank and Tusk continue face off in a government versus private sector battle for supremecy. I could have been forgiven for thinking I was watching Nadal v Federer all over again as they traded aces, backhands, and blistering forehands at about the same rate. The loser of this Grand Slam however doesn’t get to take home a polished piece of consolation silverware, and the court is strewn with the broken bodies of ball boys. Pawns. Casualties of war. There’s no such thing as “trickle-down diplomacy” this season, only the remnants of a scorched earth policy.

“There is no sacred ground for the conquered.”

In the true sense of one-upmanship the writers have raised the bar with their character additions (and assassinations), brutality towards animals, and sexual exploration worthy of film noir categorisation. Among those reprising their roles from season 1 are Frank’s rubber band and the rowing machine. Both get more screen time than Zoe Barnes (Kate Mara) and warrant listing in the credits. The rubber band is a clever manifestation of Frank’s stretching and bending the rules, and people, to their breaking point; sometimes beyond. Whilst the archaic exercise machine in the Underwood’s dungeon, I mean basement, looks more like a medieval instrument of torture and doesn’t look out of place at all. I can see it getting top-billing in season 3 and I pity the prisoner. One of the more curious new additions looks like a rat on steroids wearing an oversized Cruella De Vil-esque fur coat. After some quick googling I discovered it was a Guinea Pig a.k.a Cashew. Turns out Cashew is a thief and steals the scene from her human co stars, in one of several powerful moments where those considered lower on the food chain, fall prey to the biped predators. I know what you’re thinking, powerful and Guinea Pig in the same discussion, must be Binge Fatigue. But it’s not possible with the pace of the narrative which moves along at an increased tempo from last season, if not at times frenetic, punctuated by moments that take you a full chapter to recover from.

Chapter 14 establishes the tone early. The musical score has has had a little tweaking, I meant tweaking, which compliments the heavier and more static atmosphere this time around. Even the new lighting reflected the moodiness and almost otherworldly air around the characters. Darkness has enveloped Washington, with the main protagonists using it to veil their nefarious deeds.

The performances have gone up a notch too. I’m tipping Robin Wright (Claire Underwood) to go back to back Golden Globes and round out the quinella with the Emmy, she really flips the switch in season 2! I thought Kevin Spacey (Frank Underwood) was unlucky in the 2013 awards season, but I’m hoping his luck changes in 2014 now that Bryan Cranston’s meth lab is closed for business. Part of Spacey’s longevity in the industry is his drive to be a dynamic actor, create multidimensional characters, grow; and walk where others fear to tread. He’s not as risk averse as many actors who might deliberately err on the side of sentimentality for the sake of self preservation. He doesn’t judge a character, he presents you with one, and forces you to make the call yourself. Anyone who has already viewed the whole season, or any of his other work, will recognise this to be true and know exactly what I’m referring to. But the best part? Spacey and Wright are electric together! Their off-screen friendship, which is obvious in joint interviews, translates to the camera. They go together like guns and bullets, one doesn’t work without the other, and the result of that fully functioning firearm? Well, it’s a weapon of mass consumption. There was one particular chapter I had to re-watch the following day (my addictive personality didn’t stop at one though) just to make sure I hadn’t fallen asleep mid-binge. I wasn’t dreaming! [insert slack-jaw look here. Again] “Holy Frank Underwood!!” Their relationship really is an empire to rival the Romans, in ALL aspects.

So who else chose to spend Valentines with the diabolic but effective #OneNationUnderwood, shooshing their other half instead of fawning over them? Whilst digital distributor Netflix is cagey about viewership stats, and isn’t subject to the Nielsen ratings system, external sources have estimated over 13 million subscribers watched Chapter 14 within the first eight hours of its release. Add to that the cable network and DVR numbers and it’s likely to be an impressive theoretical tally. To put that into some perspective, the AMC series Breaking Bad had an average of 1.2 million viewers in its debut season. By the second last episode of season 5 they had 6.6 and the finale drew 10.3. CBS Network’s flagship series NCIS, now in its 11th season, is still the most consistently popular of the scripted dramas averaging over 19 million viewers per episode since season 7. At one point spiking with 24 million. Its debut season pulled in just over 12 million. If 13 million is even close to the mark for HoC, and having already seen the entire second season, then I think Netflix decision to commission a third just made sense; and a growing fan base very happy.

The other thing Netflix is conscious of is spoilers. The team created a #spolierfoiler for Twitter fans which removed HoC hashtags from their feeds until they were ready to gather around the Twitterverse water cooler (Netflix has your back Mr President). The only problem of course with binging and a social media black-out? You miss the collective “WTF?”, real-time commentary. With a few scenes where you could have deposited a basket of cobras in my living room and I wouldn’t have flinched, not being able to engage my fellow constituents has been excruciating, hence my #CanTheBan Twitter campaign. It didn’t trend, go figure…

“I hate being kept in the dark. Waiting. Speculating. Useless.”


In chapter 14 we pick up right were we left off with the Underwood’s still on their masochistic celebratory jog. Frank is still on the cusp of confirmation as Vice President. The journalistic trio of Zoe, Lucas (Sebastian Arcelus) and Janine (Constance Zimmer) are still on the trail, connecting dots as they go. Dots that Frank proports not to exist. As we know, Rachel is the piece of the puzzle they desperately need to find. Enter Stamper (Michael Kelly). He manhandles a very resistant, very large knife wielding Rachel into moving from one miserable existence to another; just out of reach of the reporting crusaders. The previous season intimated that Stamper had an interest in Rachel which extended beyond the need to simply to protect himself, and the soon to be Vice President, from implication in Russo’s death. This is explored further this season with dramatic results. In a role I liken to Richard III’s Duke of Buckingham, Stamper has his demons to wrestle, loyalty to uphold; and lines in the sand. All threaten to consume him. The first of the new characters, Jackie Sharp (Molly Parker) is introduced as Frank’s, well thought out (surprise surprise) replacement.

All the while Tusk is there nipping at Frank’s heals trying to cash in his Vice Presidency support chip. An economic issue with china, masked by a cyber-espionage sub plot, becomes the treacherous terrain Frank and Tusk (Gerald McRaney) will do battle on. Frank’s hunger for Freddy’s ribs has increased this season and it’s while devouring his unusual breakfast fare that Freddy (Reg E. Cathey) regales Frank with a story about how his delicious new recipe’s main ingredient is prepared. Frank is engrossed, morbidly fascinated even, “Bam! Shovel to the base of the head. No screaming.” Frank startles like a frightened child hearing thunder for the first time. But there’s a strange recognition in his eyes, like he’s just stumbled across the nuclear launch codes, and is already planning how to put this newly acquired information to good use. Claire confronts Gillian Cole with the charm of a rattlesnake, “I’m willing to let your child wither and die inside you if that’s what’s required”; said dripping with venom. With that, the law suit, and curiously her perceived interest in becoming pregnant herself; are promptly removed from the equation and she prepares to follow Frank to Pennsylvania Avenue. It seems Claire not only has the killer instinct of a cold blooded fish but the the maternal one as well. It’s easy to see why Frank loves her more than sharks love blood.

“Am I really the sort of enemy you want to make?”

In the first season, watching Frank catch & kill was like watching an adolescent killer whale play with a baby seal, before finally exerting enough pressure with its jaws to end the game when it tired of it; or was genuinely hungry. It’s rude to play with your food Frank… But he’s honed his skills and graduated since then. In a far more shocking opener than the now infamous ‘dog strangling’ chapter, and perhaps inspired by Freddy’s meal time story, Frank lures Zoe out. It’s time to put his baby seal out of its misery. #GoZoe indeed, right under a D.C. train! Bam!! [Insert a rapid intake of air I was talking about here]. You know when you can see the end coming from a mile away but it still manages to reach you with sound barrier breaking speed and take you by merciless surprise… With my heart still palpitating, I was fully expecting Frank to say her hashtag “Go Zoe” as he skulked away from the scene, just to reinforce his scorn for useless things. What struck me though was the violence and urgency of it. Was it just an impulse reaction to how much she knew? For me there was still a feel of premeditation, hedging his bets dependant upon how much she revealed knew, I suspect her show of contrition over Russo didn’t help her cause either. Whatever Frank’s intentions, her expeditious demise was in stark contrast to the sad, painless; but obviously opportunistic manner with which Frank dispatched Congressman Russo last season. Evidence of his indifference, if not contempt, toward Zoe is confirmed for us in his post-mortem address later in the chapter.

“Those were my choices and I can live with them.”

Frank (looking more like a super sleuth than someone with two counts of felony murder under his belt) returns home to Claire, who has arranged a small cake with a single candle on it, much to Frank’s obvious chagrin; but he resigns himself to obliging her. We now take another step down into the profundity of their union. It’s the silence that threatens to burst my ear drums. Another element the writers have mastered this season with some of the most affecting scenes void of any dialogue. The tacit exchanges between these two are potent. Frank unceremoniously extinguishes the single candle, a metaphor for the snuffed out life of Zoe perhaps. The muteness continues, their eyes re-engage, wraithlike they melt into black. The whole scene makes me feel like I’ve stumbled into the inner sanctum of a cult that has just sacrificed a virgin. A chill runs down my spine. The temperature drops further when Claire is only briefly distracted by the morning news headlining Zoe’s death. She pays it almost no attention and, looking more like she’s making a mental shopping list, she casually saunters away to apply blush. At this point I’m considering rummaging through my wardrobe for my favourite New York Giants sweater, to insulate me from the frost creeping out of the 52” screen, that’s only 5 feet away (excessive? Meh). The camera work further into this scene was masterful. As Claire finishes applying makeup we get an over-the-shoulder shot that stalks in on Claire. From this vantage point we see only Claire’s reflection framed by the edges of the mirror which has a slight upward angle. It’s positively regal, statuesque, impenetrable; and the camera is there to pledge fealty. When Frank declares to his new Secret Service Detail that they will be remaining in their townhouse after the confirmation, instead of taking up occupancy of the Vice Presidential residence, I was not at all surprised. The townhouse is familiar, their castle, a fortress and the centre of their kingdom.

“He’s got power, he’s got influence, and he’s got a lot to lose.”

Also of note in chapter 14 is Frank’s softening towards his newly promoted Secret Service Agent, Edward Meechum. It is evident that Frank’s tolerance for Meechum has increased when he accepts a birthday gift from his younger guardian. What’s so odd about that you ask? Frank despises celebrating his birthday and has Nancy distribute all cards and gifts accordingly: anything valuable goes to the conference room, anything cheap goes to the interns and all cards out with the trash. Even Stamper’s birthday jest is met with a threatened cuff around the ear. With Frank another year older, and soon-to-be Vice President, Claire decides to abolish the ritualistic lung torpedo by the window. Frank is deflated and I’m forlorn over the loss of this shared guilty pleasure (like they didn’t have enough), with the slender porthole having served as facilitator, therapist, and military advisor since Frank was duped out the Secretary of State position. Back to Meechum, who despite a warning from Stamper, bestows a set of cuff links on his boss which Frank promptly and proudly parades for Claire at home; although the audience does not get to see this prized gift up close. As I watched what I assumed was nothing more than Francis connecting with his inner child, a strange thought crossed my mind and I drifted back momentarily to the chapter 8 scenes played out in the old library of Frank’s military college, the Sentinel. Then there was something Zoe said to Frank last season as well, “What do you think about when I’m up against then wall?. We know of course that Frank had a relationship with one of The Rifleman but was it just one of those ‘experimental’ phases we hear about? I mean, he’s married Claire since then and bedded Zoe, who appeared to have a particularly satisfying Fathers Day with Frank. But what of his tolerance of Claire’s side dish Adam? Could we be looking at a royal hybrid of Alexander the Great and Richard III? Vision: Meechum with a studded collar sitting obediently beside Frank being petted [insert second rapid intake of air]. Could I begrudge him though? Meechum’s a good looking rooster, patriotic and loyal; he packs heat for a living, and he’s prepared to use it. I’m giving this way too much thought! snap back to present. The chapter is drawing to a close and Frank, still standing in front of the powder room mirror, delivers his first address of the season. “Did you think I’d forgotten you?” I was beginning to wonder… In fine sanctimonious form he proceeds to tell me not to mourn Zoe Barnes, “All kittens grow up to be cats.” Once again, the end has justified the means. There’s a less humorous tone to this soliliquoy than usual though and Spacey’s steely eyed delivery is utterly mesmerising. After his positively barbarous welcoming message, Frank exits the powder room, the camera pans down to the cufflinks on the bench top and the design is now revealed. A single letter adorns each; F and U. The impact is immediate. I burst into uncontrollable laughter laced with pride at the inference. Just like that the hunt is on and I’m sweating chapter 15.

“There is but one rule. Hunt, or be hunted.”

For my fellow Aussie fans who don’t have Netflix firstly, my condolences. Secondly, get it! It’s quick, easy, dirt cheap; and you’re not breaking any Laws according to our own Attorney General. Netflix also has the exclusive Directors Audio Commentary for season 1 that, for whatever reason, didn’t make the Blu-ray release as was originally expected. It’s one of the most informative commentaries I’ve heard, and I’ve heard a few. If you have Foxtel you can catch HoC on the Showcase Channel Saturdays at 7.30pm (AEST). I’m from Brizzy so it’s 8.30pm for the Daylight savings states, which is most of you. Be sure to check your guides and set the IQ to series link so you don’t have to worry about missing it. If you don’t have Foxtel, it sucks to be you. I’ll be posting chapter reviews and of course you can wait for the DVD release, although it will be an agonising wait.

Season 1 is available on Blu-ray and DVD at most retail outlets including Sanity and JB HI-FI, even Woolworths has it! For the online shoppers try EZYDVD or Fishpond. I note EZYDVD has a ‘notify me’ function for the yet to be released season 2 AND 3!! Respect. Before I forget, you can also get the original BBC series on which the U.S version is based. It’s a great show in its own right but don’t look for hard and fast alignment between the two. Director/Producer David Fincher (Fight Club, Seven and The Social Network) and writer Beau Willimon, have fully optioned this model into a quarter mile crusher. Everything else is pedestrian by comparison.

Happy hunting!

“This is the part where you leave.”