I 

just saw something I never 
thought I’d see on network 
television.

That seems like a ridiculous 

thing to say in 2015 — the notion 
of any storyline 
being 
“ground-

breaking” seems 
especially 
out-

dated. 
Anyone 

could turn on 
“Looking” 
and 

watch a show 
entirely absent of 
the omnipresent 
straight 
white 

male. 
Anyone 

can 
queue 
up 

Netflix and watch Annalise Keat-
ing shatter expectations on “How 
to Get Away With Murder” or 
Aziz Ansari craft jokes from pure 
pathos on “Master of None.” Any-
one could count the hundreds of 
ways these shows and characters 
subvert the typical narrative, and 
I could have enough fodder for 10 
years’ worth of TV columns.

But this is my TV column, so 

I’m going to talk about “Scandal.” 
Again. But this time, it’s different. 
“Scandal” showed me something 
I never thought I’d see on network 
television.

“Scandal” is one of the riskiest, 

most shocking shows on TV. The 
violence and graphic content it 
depicts is unparalleled among its 
broadcast peers. The President 
of the United States murdered a 
woman onscreen. Another woman 
chewed off the skin on her wrist. I 
won’t go into too much detail about 
the dozens of torture scenes that 
“Scandal” has subjected its viewers 
to, but I will say that there is one 
involving tooth-pulling, and you 
are lucky if you don’t know what 
I’m referring to. The crimes are 
difficult to watch, but “Scandal” 
handles violence with a special 
focus on the victims of violence, 
so they never feel gratuitous. In 
season three, “Scandal” explored 
Mellie’s experience as a victim 
of sexual assault, which is to this 
day one of the most devastatingly 
nuanced portrayals of rape I have 
seen on TV.

After four and a half seasons, I 

assumed that “Scandal” had been 
there and done that. There was no 
more ground to break.

However, “Scandal” is nothing 

if not surprising. Its fifth season 
has been fantastic so far, a 
welcome respite from the utter 
garbage of the show’s previous 
season. This year, “Scandal” has 
let its most intolerable characters 
(Papa Pope, Huck, Jake, basically 
everyone involved in the toxic 
B613 plot) take a step back in 
order to spotlight the relationship 
drama between Olivia and Fitz. As 
Olivia wrestles with herself over 
whether she wants to sacrifice 
her career and independence for 
Fitz’s love, Olivia suddenly finds 
her decisions are being made for 
her. News of their years-long affair 
is leaked to the press. She moves 
into the White House for her own 
protection, and there is nothing 
for her to do there except play 
the dutiful First Lady and hunt 
down a snickerdoodle recipe for 
a Congressman’s wife. She hates 
that she is so good at serving her 
man, dressing up in holiday party 
finery and standing by Fitz’s side 
like a sparkly cufflink.

A pregnant sparkly cufflink.
The mid-season finale sneaks 

this bombshell on viewers in the 
last 15 minutes of the episode. 
It truly comes out of nowhere, 
dropped in the middle of a 
narrative lull of a scene featuring 
Olivia’s father and her former 
associate. 
Eli 
Pope 
reminds 

Huck, his former employee and 
metaphorical son, that returning 
home for the holidays may not be 
as idyllic as Huck imagines. Huck 
says that if it weren’t for Olivia, 
Eli would certainly be dead. It’s 
all standard “Scandal,” and the 
details don’t really matter. But 
Eli turns the conversation ever 
so slightly. A happy home is not a 
sanctuary, but a prison: “Olivia is 
also the reason I’m shackled to this 
chair. Family is a burden.”

Cut to a close-up of Olivia’s legs 

and blue medical scrubs moving 
around them. Olivia Pope, the main 
character of a television series that 
airs at 9 p.m. on a weeknight, is 
receiving an abortion on-screen.

I can say with confidence that 

this subject matter has never been 
tackled by network TV. Some 
statistics say that one in three 
women will receive an abortion at 
some point in her life, but television 
danced around this fact. Even 
when it made narrative sense for 

a character to exercise her right to 
choose, the story almost invariably 
shifted to her changing her mind 
(Miranda on “Sex and the City”) or 
having a convenient miscarriage 
(Jessa on “Girls”). When TV 
women did receive abortions, they 
did so off-screen (Claire on “Six 
Feet Under”). One in three women 
will see the inside of that operating 
room, but TV usually shrouded 
these stories in narrative gaps and 
opaque allusions. Abortion was 
one of the few taboos TV had left, 
one of the few stories it was still 
afraid to tell.

But Olivia Pope is a strong 

woman, the kind of character 
who 
will 
smash 
every 

barrier to get the respect and 
opportunities she deserves. She 
chooses, and she is not one to 
hide behind a veneer of fakery. 
She serves no one. Olivia’s non-
stop work ethic and honesty 
inspire me in every episode, 
and I feel lucky that this 
experience that is shared by 
so many women is represented 
by someone as unbreakable 
as Olivia. And if “Scandal” ’s 
treatment of Mellie’s sexual 
assault and loss of a child are 
any indication, “Scandal” will 
not just let the abortion play 
out for shock value. Mellie bled 
and grieved young Jerry’s death 
for the better part of a season, 
and hopefully, when “Scandal” 
returns from its mid-season 
break, the show will explore 
the period of adjustment just as 
fully for Olivia.

In the monologue that scores 

Olivia’s scene on the operating 
room table, Eli says, “Family 
doesn’t complete you. It destroys 
you.” I never thought I would 
hear these kind of words on 
cautious, 
government-regulated 

network TV. I never thought that a 
television woman could be so open 
about her choice and the logical 
steps that led her to it. I thought 
that good characters, strong and 
likeable ones like Miranda Hobbes 
and Mindy Lahiri, only really had 
one option. I’m glad I was wrong.

I hope “Scandal” never stops 

surprising us.

Be like ‘Scandal’ and 

surprise Gilke with an email 

at chloeliz@umich.edu.

TV COLUMN

‘Scandal’ never 

stops surprising us

CHLOE 

GILKE

CONCERT REVIEW

Miley’s ‘Milky’ tour 
is a sensory assault 

By CHRISTIAN KENNEDY

Daily Arts Writer

A little over a year ago Miley 

Cyrus wrapped her 78-show 
Bangerz World Tour. Saturday, 
she played the 2,888-person 
capacity Fillmore in Detroit, 
showcasing her free collabora-
tion album with psychedelic 
rock band The Flaming Lips, 
Miley Cyrus and Her Dead Petz. 
And as Miley explained The 
Milky Milk Milk Tour: “small-
er venue, same amount of bal-
loons.”

After an opening set by 

Dan Deacon worthy of a Van 
Goghian double amputation, it 
wasn’t clear if the show would 
be worth the nine hours in the 
freezing snow. Miley can some-
times be just plain ridiculous. 
Some of the Dead Petz mate-
rial flirts with the line between 
music and noise.

She can be on drugs. She can 

be provocative. She may not 
fully grasp large issues such 
as white privilege. But despite 
all of her shortcomings, from 
the moment she took the small 
stage, “Dooo It!” didn’t sound 
as shitty as it usually does and 
she encapsulated the crowd for 
a two-hour trip into her most 
recent musical facet.

She 
followed 
“Dooo 
It!” 

with 
its 
Bangerz-equivalent 

“Love Money Party” hyping the 
already-spirited crowd. Com-
plete with dozens of three-foot 
balloon spheres, “DO IT” nylon 
blow-ups, champagne bottles 
and a stage packed with Miley, 
her band, Amazon Ashley and a 
crew of random hippie friends/
dancers, Cyrus was the focal 
point of the most stimulating 
show in recent memory.

As queen of excess, Cyrus 

donned a slew of ridiculous 
costumes, including (but in no 
way limited to) a baby, a pair of 
bedazzled milk cartons, a stick 
of butter and a purple-haired 
unicorn with an unreasonably 
large faux penis. The outfits 
topped off the psychedelic stag-

ing consisting of a mirror ball 
the size of a piano, fog machines, 
graphic screens and light up 
cords hanging up from the ceil-
ing. That, combined with the 
bulk of Dead Petz, resulted in 
an aesthetically pleasing, some-
times overwhelming, show that 
allowed Cyrus’s raw vocal tal-
ent and genuine personality to 
shine.

The new sound focuses on 

space, animal or weed-inspired 
tracks. Actually, they’re all 
weed-inspired — some are just 
more upfront about it. The 
songs boast enough catchiness 
to roll with a crowd. Hippy-
dippy “1 Sun,” vagina jam “Bang 
Me Box” and “I Forgive Yiew” 
were among highlights. Even 
the monologue-heavy “BB Talk” 
was an honest, comical lead-in 
to the pre-“Fweaky” strip tease 
which began as Cyrus in BB 
costume, ending with a heart 
bikini top and high-waisted 
bottoms.

Slower moments emphasized 

Cyrus’s talent and tenderness. 
She covered “You Are My Sun-
shine” to mass crowd participa-
tion as well as debuting a new 
track, which seemed to nod to 
her country roots. The climac-

tic screams of “Twinkle Song” 
blur the line between beauti-
ful and egregious, landing near 
cathartic. And toward the end 
of the spectacle, the bass lines 
of “Evil Is But A Shadow” were 
the closest thing to a musical 
orgasm, with beats distinctly 
vibrating through the chests 
and over the skin of attendees.

Cyrus’s new direction aside, 

she knows what her fans want 
when she closes out the show 
with “We Can’t Stop.” The 
banger from two summers ago 
united Miley’s fans as glitter 
cannons exploded and a two-
person rainbow costume waltz 
around the stage.

The Milky Milky Milk tour 

isn’t the little sister to Bangerz 
Tour. It’s the stoner cousin who 
is always down to try some-
thing new and “fweaky.” Show-
casing her new material, Miley 
acknowledges the success of 
what came before her (some-
thing she avoided with Bangerz) 
and gave some of her closest 
fans a peek into what’s next. 
She might not be the artist she 
has the potential to be, but with 
Miley Cyrus and Her Dead Petz 
and the Milky Milky Milk tour, 
she’s closer than ever.

‘More’ needs more

TV REVIEW

By SAM ROSENBERG

Daily Arts Writer

Television dramas about rich 

people and their wealthy lifestyles 
tend to follow a formulaic method. 
The characters 
are depicted as 
superficial, the 
storylines 
are 

usually generic 
and the drama 
is 
exaggerated 

to an excessive 
degree. 
Frequently, 
these 
white-

collar 
shows 

portray the upper class as devious, 
corrupt or greedy, their success 
only making them more obsessed 
with power and money. Though 
some of these shows have proven 
to be successful (CW’s “Gossip 
Girl” and ABC’s “Revenge”), they 
don’t always offer engrossing 
material or delve into thought-
provoking themes. Such is the case 
with Crackle’s new original series 
“The Art of More.”

While a decent attempt at being 

a suspenseful crime thriller, “The 
Art of More” is mediocre and 
somewhat perplexing, focusing 
more on glamour than on content 
and coherence. Set in the seedy 
underbelly of New York auction 
houses, the show centers around 
successful, debonair art executive 
Graham Connor (Christian Cooke, 
“Witches of East End”). Connor 
works at the upscale Parke-
Mason auction house, where he 
encounters rivals, affluent clients 
and a black-market side business. 
Based on the premise alone, “The 
Art of More” seems like it could 
be an appealing exploration into 
the lives of American socialites 

through their ventures in crime 
and debauchery. But alas, it only 
builds on bland clichés. The only 
exception is that these socialites 
bid for fancy cars and famous 
paintings, which is about as 
unexciting as it sounds.

The pilot episode, “Heavy Lies 

the Head,” doesn’t do “The Art 
of More” any storytelling justice, 
with a convoluted plot that’s 
very easy to get lost in. Several 
flashbacks are used to convey 
Graham’s 
backstory, 
but 
the 

organization of the episode sets a 
confusing tone for the show. In the 
opening scene, there is a flashback 
to an Iraqi museum in 2009, 
where Graham is an American 
soldier who becomes engaged in a 
physical struggle with art robbers 
attempting to steal a prized crown. 
Then, the scene shifts to present 
day, where Parke-Mason is selling 
that same crown for a large sum 
of money. Though the first scene 
is referenced later and gives more 
details about Graham’s past, “The 
Art of More” struggles to achieve 
any fluid connection between 
these flashbacks and Graham’s 
character.

While the cast of “The Art of 

More” is attractive and fit for 
their roles, the acting could use 
a great deal of work. Graham’s 
charismatic 
suaveness 
with 

potential 
clients 
helps 
his 

business at Parke-Mason, but 
Cooke’s stilted, robotic delivery 
as Graham makes him sound 
unconvincing. 
Dennis 
Quaid 

(“Vantage Point”) plays Sam 
Brukner, an obnoxious, Donald 
Trump-type 
billionaire 
and 

client of Parke-Mason, whose 
prominent 
drunkenness 
and 

flirtation with young women 
is grossly overused. Perhaps 

Brukner is supposed to be an 
unlikable character, but “The Art 
of More” could make his role more 
three-dimensional if it reduced 
his erratic behavior. Graham’s 
boss Arthur Davenport (Cary 
Elwes, “Saw”) acts like a typical 
slimy villain, with no distinctive 
features other than his blue suits 
and British accent. However, one 
bright spot in the mostly dull 
cast is actress Kate Bosworth 
(“Still Alice”) as the alluring, 
elusive Roxanna Whitman, one 
of Graham’s adversaries. Though 
she is on screen briefly in the 
pilot, Bosworth breathes life into 
Whitman, making her the show’s 
most intriguing and mysterious 
character. 

Unfortunately, 
Bosworth’s 

presence and the show’s stylish 
aesthetics seem to be “The Art 
of More” ’s only redeeming 
qualities. 
There 
aren’t 
any 

compelling 
twists, 
thrilling 

action sequences or exciting plot 
developments. Instead, “The Art 
of More” moves at a plodding 
pace and offers ambiguous clues 
about Graham’s mysterious past 
and ulterior motives. Considering 
“The Art of More” is featured on 
the streaming service Crackle, 
a poor man’s Netflix, it hasn’t 
reached the inventive heights 
of other online original series, 
especially since it shares the same 
platform as a raunchy animated 
series 
(“SuperMansion”) 
and 

a direct-to-video sequel of a 
David Spade movie (“Joe Dirt 2: 
Awesome Loser”). Even though 
it has some potential to break 
creative 
barriers 
for 
crime 

dramas, “The Art of More” needs 
more suspense, more character 
development and a more gripping 
plot in order to do so. 

C

The Art 
of More

Series 
Premiere

Crackle

SMILEY MILEY

“Miley, what’s good?!?”

TV REVIEW

We need more TV 
like ‘Jessica Jones’

By SOPHIA KAUFMAN

Daily Arts Writer

Marvel’s new Netflix series 

“Jessica Jones” isn’t just the best 
female-driven superhero show 
on 
air 
right 

now (not that 
there are many) 
— it’s the best 
superhero show 
to have come 
out within the 
past few years. 
It would have 
been watchable 
even just as a 
private investi-
gator show, but 
the superhero storyline adds an 
element of intrigue that keeps us 
watching even more closely. The 
opening credits sequence feels 
bizarrely reminiscent of “Mad 
Men,” “Doctor Who” and “The 
Pink Panther,” but somehow it 
works perfectly. And the show 
itself — thanks to phenomenal 
acting, intelligently crafted plot-
lines, 
stylish 
cinematography 

and distinct lack of tired female 
superhero tropes — is addicting.

Jessica Jones (Krysten Ritter, 

“Don’t Trust the B---- in Apart-
ment 23”) pays for her rent (and 
her whiskey habit) by working 
as a private investigator in New 
York City. We see immediately 
that she’s not normal — she can 
lift a car with one hand — and we 
learn that she’s “gifted” in other 
ways, as an ex-superhero. Mike 
Colter (“Million Dollar Baby”) is 
introduced in the pilot as Luke 
Cage, a bar owner gifted with a 
nearly unbreakable body. From 
the first few moments, Jones and 
Cage share tantalizing chemis-

try that quickly escalates into 
boundary-pushing sex scenes.

Jones struggles with PTSD 

from an abusive relationship 
with Kilgrave (David Tennant, 
“Doctor Who”), a gifted villain 
who can influence people not 
only to do horrible things but to 
feel like they want to do those 
things — like shooting their own 
parents in an elevator. Kilgrave’s 
abusive behaviors are often sexu-
al in nature, and Jones is not his 
first or last target.

Ritter is captivating as Jones, 

with her nuanced performance 
growing in depth throughout the 
course of the show. Ritter is as 
unaware of the camera as Jones 
is unaware of her own good 
qualities, resulting in an organic 
portrayal. Ritter accesses a wide 
emotional 
spectrum, 
playing 

Jones as brazen yet panicked 
and vulnerable, often at the same 
time. Jones never takes a moment 
to appreciate the good things she 
has done for the city or for other 
people, preferring to ignore feel-
ings of self-blame and drink to 
avoid PTSD flashbacks.

“Jessica Jones” is as strong as 

its protagonist. Ritter, Tennant 
and Colter are compelling leads, 
and the supporting cast holds 
up as well. The directors are lit-
erally shooting for subtle noir 
tones, and despite some overly 
exaggerated mood lighting and a 
couple extra-long shots of seedy 
street corners and Manhattan 
bars, the noir influences glim-
mer through. The show holds 
a surprising number of artistic 
touches, like a light percussive 
drumbeat that accompanies an 
extended bar fight scene. The 
jazz score doesn’t feel out of 

place, but accentuates the over-
all tone of the PI storyline.

While the pilot episode holds 

gems like “You’re one of them,” 
“you’re not normal” and “I’ll tell 
the world!” directed at Jones 
when she’s holding a car in one 
hand, “Jessica Jones” never relies 
too heavily on superhero-hiding-
in-plain-sight mechanisms. The 
show winks to those viewers who 
have read the comics on which 
“Jessica Jones” is based, but it’s 
also completely accessible to 
those who haven’t.

Even though it seems like we 

can never have a female superhero 
on TV who is dangerous without 
also being “damaged,” this show 
doesn’t fall into traps that female-
driven superhero shows often get 
tangled in. Despite Jones’s sultry 
voice-over narration, she isn’t 
over-sexualized and there are 
close and complex relationships 
between Jones and other women. 
There are very, very few hints of 
an “I’m not like other girls” sen-
timent. And sexual violence isn’t 
aesthetized here, but treated 
gravely, as it should be.

Jones is a capable ex-superhero, 

a cynical P.I., a survivor, a com-
plicated friend and a vulnerable 
person trying to stop an abusive 
man from barreling back into her 
life while protecting people she 
cares about. The show captures all 
of these elements equally without 
relying too heavily on any single 
one. “Jessica Jones” does justice to 
its protagonist.

But the best thing about “Jes-

sica Jones” is undoubtedly the fact 
that you can stream the entire first 
season on Netflix, right now, from 
pilot to finale. And then watch it 
again, because yes, it’s that good.

A-

Jessica 
Jones

Series 1 
Available for 
Streaming

Netflix

6A — Monday, November 23, 2015
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

