Hutchinson: We just think of people we know or have met before who lead very different lives from us, or very sexually explorative lives, or just have something about them that we think is different and unique and is not something we understand. I texted Corinne recently about Terry Richardson — I was walking down the street and I saw Terry Richardson and I looked at him and was like, “Oh, shit! I should ask him to be on the podcast!” And then I was like, “Wait a second, he’s kind of super-rapey and I don’t think …” I think it would have been a good conversation, but my feminist meter was like, “Warning, warning, he’s horrible!” But we want to speak to the people who are horrible because with social issues like catcalling, for example, if you don’t speak to the shitheads who are doing it you’re never going to get anywhere.
Do you worry about falling into that trap, now that you’ve identified and adopted this feminist stance? Do you worry about being like, “Well, we know you’re a shithead so we don’t want to hear from you”?
Hutchinson: Yeah, I think ultimately it’s always better to talk to the shitheads.
Fisher: We have shitheads on all the time; we know a ton of them.
Hutchinson: We’re all pieces of shit in some form or another, so it’s like, “That’s the area that you’re not really doing well in that I’m really angry about, so let’s talk about it.” We’re never going to bring anyone on the podcast and make them feel like an asshole or talk down to them or be condescending or be nasty to them. That’s not the point of the conversation. The point is to just talk about opinions and experiences and exchange and enlighten each other.
What are you looking forward to, in year two?
Hutchinson: Our careers. They’re getting better because of the podcast, which is really exciting.“Transparent,” “Symbolic Exemplar”
The ostensible theme of “Transparent” is transformation, and all season long, we watched the evolution of genders and individuals within one family. But what “The Symbolic Exemplar” examines with awe-inspiring focus is another of the show’s themes: expectations. Ali’s expectations for her date with a new man are so overwhelming that they affect what she perceives. Maura wants to be truly seen in her big moment in the talent show, but she’s terrified of making a fool of herself. Her children want to not be embarrassed by who Maura is in that moment, and they also want credit for merely showing up. What’s fantastic about the episode — and what’s heartbreaking about Maura’s kids giggling then slinking away during the performance of “Somebody That I Used to Know” — is the rigorous excavation of why every single person let everyone else down. Maura hasn’t been truthful about her identity for so long that deception is a reflexive habit for all the Pfeffermans. Confusion, pain and anger get in the way of each character’s expectations, and creator Jill Soloway depicts all these messy emotions without bitterness or an overdose of melodrama. The episode, which is anchored so beautifully by Jeffery Tambor’s depiction of Maura’s bravery, serves as the emotional heart of a series that brilliantly examines the cost of expectations and the painful necessity of evolution. — Mo Ryan, the Huffington Post
“Review,” “Pancakes; Divorce; Pancakes”
“Best Friend; Space” is probably a funnier episode. “Revenge; Getting Rich; Aching” is probably a darker episode. But “Pancakes; Divorce; Pancakes” is the episode to watch if you want to see how gracefully Andy Daly’s Comedy Central gem is able to spiral from comedy to tragedy to absurdist nihilism. Settled between missions to eat “an upsetting number of pancakes” and a dispiriting amount of pancakes, Forrest MacNeil undertakes a challenge that impacts more than his waistline, that could inflict more than temporary pain. After two episodes of laughing along as Forrest test-drives drug addiction, being a racist, and other paths from which he can always retreat, we witness the pathological danger of his review-every-life-experience mission. It’s here that we realize that what Forrest is doing leaves marks, that it impacts the people around him, that his commitment to this bit may be a symptom of a bigger problem. It’s here that we start to ponder the mechanics of the show-within-the-show, “Review With Forrest MacNeil,” and the complicity of the audience in the whole endeavor. And as the solemnity has fully set in, suddenly it’s even more hilarious when, later in the season, Forrest is trapped in space with an unmoored corpse and descending deeper into sexual depravity. Five stars. — Dan Fienberg, HitFix
Do you feel like the podcast has changed your ideas about your careers and what you want to be doing?
Hutchinson: We just think of people we know or have met before who lead very different lives from us, or very sexually explorative lives, or just have something about them that we think is different and unique and is not something we understand. I texted Corinne recently about Terry Richardson — I was walking down the street and I saw Terry Richardson and I looked at him and was like, “Oh, shit! I should ask him to be on the podcast!” And then I was like, “Wait a second, he’s kind of super-rapey and I don’t think …” I think it would have been a good conversation, but my feminist meter was like, “Warning, warning, he’s horrible!” But we want to speak to the people who are horrible because with social issues like catcalling, for example, if you don’t speak to the shitheads who are doing it you’re never going to get anywhere.
Do you worry about falling into that trap, now that you’ve identified and adopted this feminist stance? Do you worry about being like, “Well, we know you’re a shithead so we don’t want to hear from you”?
Hutchinson: Yeah, I think ultimately it’s always better to talk to the shitheads.
Fisher: We have shitheads on all the time; we know a ton of them.
Hutchinson: We’re all pieces of shit in some form or another, so it’s like, “That’s the area that you’re not really doing well in that I’m really angry about, so let’s talk about it.” We’re never going to bring anyone on the podcast and make them feel like an asshole or talk down to them or be condescending or be nasty to them. That’s not the point of the conversation. The point is to just talk about opinions and experiences and exchange and enlighten each other.
What are you looking forward to, in year two?
Hutchinson: Our careers. They’re getting better because of the podcast, which is really exciting.“Transparent,” “Symbolic Exemplar”
The ostensible theme of “Transparent” is transformation, and all season long, we watched the evolution of genders and individuals within one family. But what “The Symbolic Exemplar” examines with awe-inspiring focus is another of the show’s themes: expectations. Ali’s expectations for her date with a new man are so overwhelming that they affect what she perceives. Maura wants to be truly seen in her big moment in the talent show, but she’s terrified of making a fool of herself. Her children want to not be embarrassed by who Maura is in that moment, and they also want credit for merely showing up. What’s fantastic about the episode — and what’s heartbreaking about Maura’s kids giggling then slinking away during the performance of “Somebody That I Used to Know” — is the rigorous excavation of why every single person let everyone else down. Maura hasn’t been truthful about her identity for so long that deception is a reflexive habit for all the Pfeffermans. Confusion, pain and anger get in the way of each character’s expectations, and creator Jill Soloway depicts all these messy emotions without bitterness or an overdose of melodrama. The episode, which is anchored so beautifully by Jeffery Tambor’s depiction of Maura’s bravery, serves as the emotional heart of a series that brilliantly examines the cost of expectations and the painful necessity of evolution. — Mo Ryan, the Huffington Post
“Review,” “Pancakes; Divorce; Pancakes”
“Best Friend; Space” is probably a funnier episode. “Revenge; Getting Rich; Aching” is probably a darker episode. But “Pancakes; Divorce; Pancakes” is the episode to watch if you want to see how gracefully Andy Daly’s Comedy Central gem is able to spiral from comedy to tragedy to absurdist nihilism. Settled between missions to eat “an upsetting number of pancakes” and a dispiriting amount of pancakes, Forrest MacNeil undertakes a challenge that impacts more than his waistline, that could inflict more than temporary pain. After two episodes of laughing along as Forrest test-drives drug addiction, being a racist, and other paths from which he can always retreat, we witness the pathological danger of his review-every-life-experience mission. It’s here that we realize that what Forrest is doing leaves marks, that it impacts the people around him, that his commitment to this bit may be a symptom of a bigger problem. It’s here that we start to ponder the mechanics of the show-within-the-show, “Review With Forrest MacNeil,” and the complicity of the audience in the whole endeavor. And as the solemnity has fully set in, suddenly it’s even more hilarious when, later in the season, Forrest is trapped in space with an unmoored corpse and descending deeper into sexual depravity. Five stars. — Dan Fienberg, HitFix
Do you feel like the podcast has changed your ideas about your careers and what you want to be doing?
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