https://img.particlenews.com/image.php?url=1saEuC_0wPtkbNy00

Why should more students watch the 1982 sci-fi classic Blade Runner, according to philosophy professor Lionel McPherson—and why is the movie not actually about what it means to be human?

How does this year’s comedy sleeper hit Thelma reflect a guiding principle of Tufts University School of Dentistry’s geriatric program, according to its director, Karin Arsenault?

And why does associate chemistry professor Charlie Mace listen to heavy metal band Mastodon as he grades?

This fall, faculty and staff from across the university bring you 30 recommendations for movies, music, podcasts, and TV shows, from old screwball comedies (I Love You Again) to French travel documentaries (Sans Soleil) to postapocalyptic survival stories (Station Eleven).

Halloween picks feature prominently, from Darren Aronofsky’s horror film Mother, according to sociology lecturer Bret Nava-Coulter a retelling of the Bible and commentary on the history of misogyny, to Chilean black comedy El Conde, centering on a vampiric version of dictator Augusto Pinochet, to the offbeat series Resident Alien, in which a bug-eyed green extraterrestrial dons the skinsuit of a small-town doctor.

Picking a podcast? Frolic with river otters via the Smithsonian’s Side Door, play Dungeons and Dragons with three childhood friends (Worlds Beyond Number), or get your next great local restaurant recommendation (Medford Bytes—with a side of support for local news, according to political science professor Deborah Schildkraut).

And don’t forget to chime in with your must-watches, recent listens, and old favorites, by emailing tuftsnowrecommendations@tufts.edu.

MOVIES

Blade Runner (R). Many students, I was dismayed to learn, have not seen Blade Runner. Within ten years of its release to mixed reviews in 1982, the film had garnered a sizable cult following. Its critical stature now hovers between science fiction classic and outright masterpiece. (I suggest comparing the original U.S. theatrical release and director Ridley Scott’s “final cut.”) Blade Runner’s set design—of a near-ish futuristic, grimy, and drearily fluorescent urbanscape—is stunning. That world has wrought some remarkable technology, including advanced humanoid “machines” (androids), though the technology appears to be good overall for neither the natural environment nor human flourishing. The film’s overarching theme is not, as often reported, what it means to be human. Androids are not of the human species. The real question is what it means to be a person—a being that has a rational nature and an animal nature or, more concretely, a capacity for self-reflective experience of things like love, fear, grief, and drive for freedom and survival. Blade Runner challenges viewers to resist brute speciesism. Still, we find ourselves rooting for Harrison Ford’s weary police detective assigned to “retire” Rutger Hauer’s Nietzschean blond beast. We are invited to wonder how an android, if that is indeed what the woman played by Sean Young is, could be achingly beautiful and maybe a reciprocating object of (non-pathological) human desire. Blade Runner is a moody, noirish meditation on technological progress in a decaying, consumerist, inegalitarian society. Its future world is sadly familiar at its core, yet still holds out the prospect of empathy, mercy, and respect for persons, whatever their physical composition might be. –Lionel McPherson, associate professor, Department of Philosophy

El Conde (R) is a 2023 Chilean black comedy about the real-life dictator Augusto Pinochet who, in the movie, is 250 years old and not dead. He is a vampire who over a long existence has gradually lost his will to live. This worries his wife Lucia, and his longtime butler, Fyodor, whom Pinochet bit and turned into a vampire some time ago. Pinochet resides in a countryside estate and drinks blender-made heart smoothies—until certain events develop. The film is hilarious and gruesome, but in my opinion infinitely more hilarious. It’s also very well done and will be well appreciated by those who love satire. The film takes its title from Pinochet’s preferred nickname, “The Count,” El Conde in Spanish. –Zoya Davis-Hamilton, associate vice provost for research administration, Office of the Vice Provost for Research

I Know Where I’m Going! (not rated), blares the title of this charming 1945 gem—deceptively, as it turns out, since the film’s characters find themselves stuck in a place they don’t intend to go or understand. An opening sequence shows Joan Webster (Wendy Hiller) jolting through childhood with precocious ambition, a middle-class girl already in pursuit of fortune. She emerges a confident young adult, now on her way north to marry a wealthy industrialist on the fictional island of Kiloran in Scotland’s Western Isles, which the film places at a mystical distance from the world war burning on the continent. But a gale grounds her instead on the Isle of Mull, with Kiloran sometimes visible on the horizon across treacherous seas. On Mull, she meets naval officer Torquil MacNeil, played by the great Roger Livesey, who inhabits the role with authority and gentle affability. MacNeil is on n a week’s shore leave and also trying to reach Kiloran, his home. Though Joan believes her fiancé owns Kiloran, it turns out he's only leased it from the island’s laird: MacNeil. Unlike the characters stranded on Mull, you might guess where this is going. It’s a seismic mid-century moment, breaking apart every assumption tearing apart and blowing every plan off course. A laird forced to lease out his island? Marriage reimagined as something other than mere career? A curse meaning something less cruel than its origins suggest? While the delightful cast navigates these perplexities to get where they (think) they are going, cinematographer Erwin Hiller remains transfixed by where he is. His camera immerses us in the surreal lightscape of the Hebrides; catches the arc of a rainbow vanished these eighty years; and haunts us with the sound of Atlantic seals singing in the mist: a beauty so otherworldly that you might forget for a moment where you’re going, transported by where you are. –Laura Lucas, director of knowledge strategy & operations, Office of the Provost

I Love You Again (not rated). Back in the 1930s, a dark decade that reminds some people of our own times, Hollywood started cranking out screwball comedies like this movie, funny and hugely entertaining fluff that took people’s minds off their troubles. I’ve always enjoyed these movies, but only recently realized how many there were, and have been happily binging ones I hadn’t seen before. One was this 1940 vehicle for the screwball power couple William Powell and Myrna Loy. Unlike their wonderful Thin Man series of films about uber-wealthy Nick and Nora Charles solving crimes and drinking their way through Prohibition-era Manhattan, I Love You Again features Powell as upright and uptight Larry Wilson, a pottery factory businessman in Habersville, Penn.—until he gets a conk on the head, and realizes he’s been suffering from amnesia for years. He’s really a conman named George Carey, and delighted to find he’s married to the dishy Loy—but dismayed to find she’s decided to divorce him, because he’s too dull. Complications ensure, of course, and the dialogue is quick and witty and has enough double entendres to make us laugh out loud almost nine decades later. If you are new to the genre, also check out screwball classics like The Awful Truth, Bringing Up Baby, His Girl Friday, and The Philadelphia Story. —Taylor McNeil, senior news and audience engagement editor, University Communications and Marketing

Mother! (R). This Halloween season I would recommend the 2017 psychological horror film Mother! by Darren Aronofsky (Black Swan, The Whale) because it flew under most people’s radars. It has an all-star cast with Jennifer Lawrence, Javier Bardem, Ed Harris and Michelle Pfeiffer. The story focuses on a woman who is in the process of renovating her house that she shares with her husband. A series of strange events leads to the two hosting an ever-growing number of guests as the film builds its momentum to an explosive, chaotic, and poignant conclusion. In fact, the film is an allegory of the Bible, but told from the perspective of Mother Earth. This plot point may be missed in the first viewing because the narrative structure is so subtle. However, the film is as enthralling and beautiful as it is disturbing and claustrophobic. Aronofsky brilliantly navigates through the ultimate challenge for any horror film: “why don’t you just leave the house!?” Through Lawrence’s incredibly fragile performance, you come to feel as trapped within the film as she is. I find the film so captivating for two reasons—one, as a sociologist, I am intrigued by the idea of looking at humanity from the perspective of the Earth; and two, there is a very small moment toward the end of the film meant to represent the historical and widespread presence of violence toward women. If you blink. you might miss it; yet for me it is a horrifying yet poignant comment on misogyny, and one that has stuck with me. –Brett Nava Coulter, lecturer, Department of Sociology, School of Arts and Sciences

National Anthem (R). In Luke Gilford's beautifully crafted debut feature film from 2023, a young day-jobber who takes gigs as a ranch hand and construction worker discovers the world of queer and trans rodeo. While he parents his younger sibling and deals with his mother's drinking, his horizons expand thanks to exposure to a chosen family of people whose lives and loves are nothing like his own. Fluidity of sexuality and gender expression offer him both risk and reward. With gorgeous Southwest cinematography, complemented by the evocative music of Perfume Genius and Nick Urata, the movie emphasizes the emotional journey of its protagonist more than a neat plot. It's a truly fresh take on a coming-of-age story. –David Valdes, lecturer, Department of English, School of Arts and Sciences

Thelma (PG-13) took me by surprise—I had so much fun watching it! This charming 2024 comedy stars June Squibb in her first leading role at 94, playing a spunky grandma who loses $10,000 to a phone scammer. When the police can't help, Thelma takes on Los Angeles to get her money back, with a little help from a friend and his motorized scooter. What I loved most was the film's refreshing portrayal of older adults. Sure, Thelma deals with hearing loss and tech struggles, but that's not what defines her. She's resourceful and determined, refusing to be sidelined by society's expectations. Her heartwarming relationship with her grandson reminds us how important those connections are as we age. I laughed at how the film pokes fun at Thelma's overprotective family. It's a gentle reminder not to underestimate our elders—they have a lifetime of wisdom up their sleeves! As someone in geriatric dentistry, I appreciated how Thelma treats older adults as individuals with unique abilities. The movie's message that one is never too old for new challenges is truly inspiring. Ultimately, Thelma is more than just fun—it's a powerful reminder that age is just a number when it comes to living life to the fullest. –Karin Arsenault, director, Geriatric Program, School of Dental Medicine

Thelma (PG-13). It’s not often a 94-year-old gets a first-time lead in a film, but that’s what actress Jane Squib did, starring as Thelma in this amusing and heartfelt takeoff of an action/buddy movie. She’s a recent widow, living at home alone and at loose ends. Her grandson, Danny, at loose ends himself, hangs out with her and tries to help her deal with computers and phones, but Thelma is put off by his patronizing attitude. Then she gets a call from what sounds like Danny, saying he’s been in a traffic accident and arrested, and needs $10,000 cash to get out. Panicked, Thelma mails the money off, but then quickly realizes she’s been scammed. She’s mad as hell and isn’t going to take it, and since the cops can’t help, she decides to take on the scammer herself. That means enlisting former friend Ben (Shaft’s Richard Roundtree in his final role) and taking his high-end scooter first to old friend Mona (played by 96-year-old Bunny Levine)—to steal Mona’s gun. Thelma and Ben take off, now on the lam from Ben and his parents, who are worried Thelma has lost her mind. I won’t spoil it, but Thelma does what every action hero does, and we all cheer in the end. The movie is a wonderful celebration of friendship and a reminder that age is just a construct—at least for folks like Thelma. –Taylor McNeil, senior news and audience engagement editor, University Communications and Marketing

Sans Soleil (Sunless) (not rated). This mesmerizing travel documentary from 1983 by French filmmaker Chris Marker is perhaps better described as an “essay-film” that meditates on the entanglement of global history, personal memory, and human survival. Shuttling among locales as diverse as urban Japan and rural Iceland, with stops in Guinea-Bissau, Cape Verde, Paris, and San Francisco, Sans Soleil is a film about how visual technology mediates our relationship to the world and each other. As we watch a hypnotic stream of images from these various locales, we hear a female voice reading from letters sent to her by the (fictitious) cameraman Sandor Krasna. Panoramas of the modern Tokyo skyline mingle with shots of markets in Africa; experimentation with early digital image manipulation tussles with traditional street festivals and mourning rites; a visual discussion of Hitchcock’s Vertigo is juxtaposed with a montage of late-night television viewing. In an explanatory appeal to a text by the 11th-century Japanese courtier Sei Shonagon, Krasna comments, “Shonagon had a passion for lists: the list of ‘elegant things,’ ‘distressing things,’ or even of ‘things not worth doing.’ One day she got the idea of drawing up a list of ‘things that quicken the heart.’ Not a bad criterion I realize when I'm filming.” Though it lacks traditional narrative sequencing and character development, the lyrical interplay among the images and the meandering voiceover examines the potential for aesthetics—and cinematic art in particular—to respond to and refigure the violence of both history and nature. –John Lurz, associate professor, Department of English, School of Arts and Sciences

Where is the Friend’s House? (not rated). I watched the 1987 Iranian film Where is the Friend’s House? by Abbas Kiarostami for the first time recently. The synopsis is simple—a young boy takes his friend’s notebook home from school by mistake and sets out to return it to him, hoping to save him from getting into big trouble at school. Like any Kiarostami film, it’s beautifully shot and consists largely of different people having lots of conversations with each other, lending it a distinctly philosophical undertone. This was, genuinely, one of the most stressful films I’ve ever watched, despite it having no violence or dramatic action. In almost every scene, the young boy repeats himself over and over again to adults who ignore or willfully misunderstand him, sometimes assuming that he is only trying to get out of doing his homework or disobey his family. It feels like a fitting film to revisit at a time when there is so much national conversation about people’s ability to listen to each other. Almost every adult in Where is the Friend’s House? is caught up in their own narrative and unwilling to consider someone else’s, particularly a young child’s. However, there is a pureness at the heart of the film that feels very hopeful in the face of that, and it is most visible in the unrelenting kindness of this young child who navigates countless obstacles simply because he wants to help his friend. –Indigo Naar, A21, assistant director, Office of Admissions

MUSIC

Leviathan. I listen to music whether I’m writing, grading, reading, or thinking. To the ire of my office-neighbors, I need something loud to focus on my work. In addition to loud, I also value progressive metal where the artists demonstrate their dedication to their craft and write songs that are both melodic and tight. Mastodon’s Leviathan checks these boxes and also tells a story. Bonus! It’s a concept album that loosely follows the story of Moby Dick and Captain Ahab’s obsession with revenge. I usually identify with Ahab—he has a goal, unbridled passion, and has assembled a collaborative team to carry out the mission. Just like me! But I can also see the whale’s perspective—it’s just a whale doing whale things and wants to be left alone to do those things. Also just like me! I don’t usually look for deep meaning or allegories in music and I haven’t read the book in 30 years, so I am probably missing a few thematic elements. But I do listen to this album a few times each week. The lead track, Blood and Thunder, impels you to chase your dreams (so to speak). The album then guides you through Ahab and the whale’s journey, with songs integrating the experiences and perspectives of different characters (such as Queequeg in Seabeast), while never losing sight of the mission (Iron Tusk). The album ends with a sprawling and operatic song (Hearts Alive) before transitioning into an emotional instrumental (Joseph Merrick). A fitting end to a tragic story and one of progressive metal’s finest albums. –Charlie Mace, associate professor, Department of Chemistry, School of Arts and Sciences

PODCASTS

EconoFact Chats. This podcast, which began in 2020, does something that is not easy: explaining economic topics in an accessible way. The podcast episodes—hosted by Michael Klein, William L. Clayton Professor of International Economic Affairs at The Fletcher School—are the perfect length, about 20 minutes. In the past they’ve covered topics ranging from the persistence and consequences of racial disparities to immigration and the future of work. The guests are top notch, and have included Nobel laureates like Paul Krugman and Claudia Goldin, as well as a lineup of economic journalists including Catherine Rampell (Washington Post) and Roger Lowenstein. The podcast also has a quarterly series of discussions with a panel that includes Binyamin Appelbaum (New York Times), Scott Horsley (NPR), Greg Ip (Wall Street Journal), and Heather Long (Washington Post). (All platforms) –Taylor McNeil, senior news and audience engagement editor, University Communications and Marketing

Medford Bytes. With the decline of local media, including the loss of the weekly Medford Transcript a few years ago, it can be hard to learn about local issues facing our community. One outlet that has helped fill the void for me as a Medford resident is the Medford Bytes podcast, where two hosts interview local politicians, activists, and other community leaders. I found the podcast to be particularly helpful during last year’s city council elections, because they had long interviews with most city council candidates. The discussions were thoughtful, wide-ranging, and entertaining. This coming election, Medford has rare property tax overrides on the ballot, and recent episodes include discussions about these measures. They start every interview by asking their guests their favorite place to eat in Medford and what they like to eat there, so it’s also great for learning about restaurants that might not be on my radar! –Deborah J. Schildkraut, professor, Department of Political Science, School of Arts and Sciences

No Write Way with V.E. Schwab. As an incredibly voracious reader and wannabe writer, I've listened to my fair share of literary podcasts, but V.E. Schwab's No Write Way stands out as a gem in the crowded audiosphere. This interview-style show offers a refreshing peek behind the curtain of the writing world, with Schwab as our gracious and insightful host. Each episode features Schwab in conversation with fellow successful authors, exploring their journeys and creative processes, and the delicate balance between writing and life. What sets No Write Way apart is its emphasis on the diversity of approaches to the craft. The title isn't just clever wordplay; it's a mission statement. Listening to No Write Way feels like eavesdropping on an intimate chat between literary luminaries. Schwab's genuine curiosity and rapport with her guests elicit candid discussions that go beyond the typical "where do you get your ideas?" fare. Instead, we're treated to nuanced conversations about the highs and lows of the writing life, the struggles with imposter syndrome, and the joy of creating worlds from nothing but imagination and determination. For aspiring writers, this podcast is a goldmine of inspiration and practical advice. For avid readers, it's a chance to understand the people behind their favorite stories. And for everyone in between, it's a testament to the power of perseverance and creativity. No Write Way reminds us that there's no single path to success in writing - whether our pen is on paper for an academic journal or the next great novel. It's a celebration of individuality in craft and a rallying cry for writers everywhere to find their own unique voice. In a world often focused on "how-to" guides, this podcast refreshingly asserts that when it comes to writing, there's no wrong way to do it right. –Krys Ziska Strange, associate director, faculty development & instructional design, Tufts Technology Services

One Million Experiments. Produced by Project Nia and Interrupting Criminalization, this podcast documents what people are doing to create safe and healthy communities without police and prisons. The podcast builds on the abolitionist insight that today we use the carceral system to address a wide array of social harms, so prisons won’t be replaced by one thing. Instead, we need to envision a “constellation” (in Angela Davis’s words) of experiments to reconceive safety, community and well-being. The podcast provides examples of movement leaders across the U.S. who are doing just that. Warm, funny, serious and profound, the podcast is buoyed by joy and tempered by challenging realities. –Bridget Conley, associate research professor, The Fletcher School.

Sidedoor. Maybe you took a summer vacation to Washington, D.C. and had an opportunity to visit one of the Smithsonian’s museums or their National Zoo. Perhaps there was an exhibit you saw or an animal you encountered that made you pause to think more about its backstory. Host Lizzie Peabody of the Smithsonian’s Sidedoor podcast takes the listener behind the scenes of the museum from the perspective of the employees’ side door entrance, diving into stories of items which may be found in The Smithsonian. The guests include employees and Smithsonian experts working in different departments—archaeologists, biologists, artists, historians, zookeepers, and astrophysicists. There are dozens of interesting episodes to pick from, but I recently listened to one about North American river otters, which unbeknownst to me, are ferocious hunters—despite their seemingly cute faces and playful personalities. The host and the episode’s guests cleverly take the listener through a day in the life of Emmett and Potomac, two of the five otters that live at The Smithsonian’s National Zoo. Did you know that studying river otters’ diets (and feces) can inform researchers on the health of a river in a particular area? I do, thanks to Sidedoor. The episodes are about 30 minutes long and keep you thoroughly engaged in the topic—take it from someone whose Google search history now includes river otters. –Jennifer Rosenberg, media relations, University Communications & Marketing

Worlds Beyond Number. This is an actual-play Dungeons and Dragons podcast that explores the story of three childhood friends who are drawn back together for reasons they can't even begin to comprehend. Imagine a podcast where the multiverse isn't just a sci-fi concept, but a playground for some of the most entertaining minds in tabletop gaming. That's Worlds Beyond Number for you–a delightful romp through realms of pure imagination, courtesy of Brennan Lee Mulligan, Erika Ishii, Aabria Iyengar, and Lou Wilson. Now, you might be thinking, "Great, another actual-play D&D podcast." But hold onto your d20s, folks! This isn't your average roll-for-initiative show. It's a masterclass in "yes, and" improv, with Brennan Lee Mulligan as the ringmaster of this narrative circus. He doesn't just bring players to the table; he practically lays out a welcome mat for their wildest ideas. From genre-bending adventures to characters you'll wish you could invite over for game night, Worlds Beyond Number is a reminder that the best stories are the ones we create together. It's the audio equivalent of that one D&D session where everything went hilariously off the rails, then punched you straight in the feels, but somehow ended up being the best night ever. So, if you've ever wanted to eavesdrop on the most entertaining game night in the multiverse, well... let's just say the possibilities are, to quote the creators, "a lot." –Krys Ziska Strange, associate director, faculty development & instructional design, Tufts Technology Services

TELEVISION

Deadloch. An addictively quirky feminist crime series, the Australian Deadloch takes the usual tropes of police procedurals and has a blast twisting them around. Set in an idyllic, mostly lesbian small town in Tasmania during a foodie festival, Deadloch mashes up the buddy cop genre with feminist noir, Australian absurdism, and the mistily ominous aesthetics of European crime drama. The main character (Kate Box) is a study in patient exasperation, and her sidekick (Madeleine Sami), a can't-take-your-eyes-off-her mess, are both weirdly inspiring in their own ways. (Amazon Prime Video) –Sarah Pinto, professor and chair, Department of Anthropology, School of Arts and Sciences

Hard Knocks. Defending ourselves against cybersecurity threats and online adversaries can sometimes feel like a losing battle, so I always like television shows that offer a model for how to prepare people to go up against daunting upcoming challenges with guts and determination. No one does that better than the football coaches featured in HBO’s “Hard Knocks,” a reality documentary series that chronicles one NFL team’s preparations for the upcoming season during each summer’s training camp. It’s hard not to be inspired by, say, Dan Campbell, head coach of the Detroit Lions, explaining to his team that no matter what opponent they’re facing, they just need to grab the other guy by the hair and drag him out into the ocean until the water is deep enough to drown him (metaphorically, I think). (HBO Max) –Josephine Wolff, associate professor of cybersecurity policy at The Fletcher School, associate professor of computer science at the School of Engineering

House of Flowers (La Casa de las Flores) is a nice blend of dark humor with complex family dynamics. The show is about a wealthy family (De la Mora) who has to save face in the middle of scandals and secrets, doing whatever it takes to maintain their high social status. The show is filled with witty dialogue and crazy twists, exploring serious themes like infidelity, mental health, and identity. The quirky characters, particularly the matriarch Virginia, bring both humor and emotional depth. It's a great watch! It captures you through all of the interesting characters and makes you like them in spite of all their clear character flaws. You may cry and laugh with this show. (Netflix) –Juan M. Escalona Torres, Spanish language program coordinator, Department of Romance Studies, School of Arts & Sciences

Mr. & Mrs. Smith. A (so-far) one-season thriller series based (only loosely) on the 2005 movie, Mr. & Mrs. Smith stars Atlanta’s Donald Glover and Pen15’s Maya Erskine as strangers hired to pose as a married couple and execute all manner of spycraft in the employ of a nameless “company” (all we know is that it is NOT the CIA). The show dispenses very quickly with any pretense of platonic professionalism among the newly “marrieds”—and that’s when the chaos begins. Glover and Erskine spark off of one another as two people trying very hard (and inevitably messing up) to know themselves and each other amidst assassins gunning for them and the unpredictability in assignments on Lake Como, in the Dolomites, and deep in South American jungles. Imagine Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn from Adam’s Rib—but instead, they’re jet-setting secret agents with the pulse-pounding action of a Bourne or a Bond movie. The cameos will also delight you throughout—and the episode with the marriage counselor has to be seen to be believed. This is a most unexpected, deeply clever love story for our age. (Amazon Prime Video) –Dave Nuscher, executive director of content, University Communications and Marketing

Parenthood. I play many roles in my life, but perhaps the most important one is “mom.” Parenting often involves the highest highs and lowest lows, and I don’t think a show has done as heartfelt and beautiful a job of exemplifying this multifaceted and unpredictable rollercoaster as Parenthood. What I find so impressive is this show’s ability to speak to not only the sundry experiences of raising kids, but the complexities of families and relationships as a whole, through the eyes of generations of the Berkeley, Cal.-based Braverman clan. Weighty topics from marriage, divorce, pregnancy, adoption, infertility, and infidelity to substance abuse, sexuality, race, careers, neurodivergence, illness, and personal growth are all handled with a rawness and realness that brings the characters to life and makes you relate in some small (or big) way—while still providing escapism. You’ll find familiar names in the cast, including Monica Potter, Dax Shepard, Peter Krause, Lauren Graham, Ray Romano, Craig T. Nelson, and Erika Christensen. The performances are all fantastic, but Max Burkholder is truly stellar as young Max Braverman. The show ended in 2015, but is currently available to stream on Hulu and other platforms. Get to know the Bravermans—and get your tissues ready! (Hulu) –Lindsey Collins marketing strategist, University Communications & Marketing

The Perfect Couple. If you loved Ellen Hildebrand’s best-selling novel and you are a Nicole Kidman fan, you’ll want to catch this captivating new addition to Netflix’s lineup. The story unfolds during a lavish wedding weekend on Nantucket, where secrets, lies, and a mysterious death unravel on the night of the rehearsal dinner. The series stays true to the book’s essence, masterfully weaving in family drama, romance, and suspense, all against the picturesque backdrop of the island. Having read and loved the book, I found the show’s adaptation to be a thrilling experience. The characters are brought to life with depth and nuance, closely matching the personalities Hilderbrand so vividly portrayed in her novel—but now you can see them on the big screen. From the tension-filled wedding planning to the twists in relationships, which leave any one of them as a possible murder suspect, the show captures the novel’s emotional intricacies while adding its own visual flair. Fans of the book will appreciate how the series stays loyal to the core story, while newcomers will find themselves hooked on the unfolding drama. (Netflix) –Christine Fitzgerald, manager, service marketing & communications, Tufts Technology Services

Resident Alien. Tired of sitting on the couch binge-watching TV shows about human drama? Set aside the cop shows, family comedies, and relationship intrigues for a while and check out Resident Alien on Netflix. Not only is it funny, but it will also make you realize the irony of the term “human intelligence” and make you laugh at the way emotion underpins every decision we make. The show starts when life in the small town of Patience, Col., is upended by an alien who crash-lands on earth and takes over the body of the local physician. He tries to integrate into society just long enough to locate the wreckage of this spaceship and rebuild the craft so that he can continue with his mission to destroy humanity. In his guise as Dr. Harry Vanderspeigle, the alien studies human behavior and learns English by watching Law and Order reruns. Though he is befuddled when he finds that real people don’t always act the way they do on TV, he gains just enough knowledge to be able to manage the town health clinic and avoid the authorities. Since “Harry’s” native species lacks emotion, he finds humans to be annoying and irrational distractions who are impeding progress on his mission. And lacking an understanding of common social cues, his awkward interaction with the local townspeople, especially the mayor’s son, Max—the only character who sees Harry as an alien—is brutally, refreshingly, and hilariously… honest. The human characters are very relatable, and it’s hard not to see oneself in people who are struggling with the day-to-day drama and imperfection of their lives. Seeing these moments play out through the eyes of the stoic Harry gives the viewer the ability to stand back and laugh out loud at humanity. (Netflix) –Laura McDonald, art collections manager and registrar, Tufts Art Gallery

Slow Horses. Second chances and survival against the odds are my catnip! And then, if you add suspense, mystery, and danger—I am in thrall. Lucky for me, I discovered Slow Horses, a soon-to-be five season series (streaming on Apple+) based on the Slough House series of novels by Mick Herron. I came upon the show when there were already two seasons in existence. I quickly gobbled them up just before season three came along—keeping me sated for quite some time. Season four was doled out week by week this fall, bringing me back to the kind of rigorous fasting I associate with the old days of network TV. But despite this (forced) intermittent fasting, I still recommend the show for its salty characters, plot twists, and odd tilt. The series is set in London and features a very motley crew led by Jackson Lamb (played exquisitely by Gary Oldman), a crusty, misanthropic, seemingly washed-up spy who has more tricks up his sleeves than empty whiskey bottles rattling around under his desk. And as with many of the very best reprobates, Jackson Lamb’s awful habits are a cover for a deeply ethical and loyal leader whose distaste for corruption and the hypercritical exercise of power fuel some of his most noble efforts. But it sure gets messy! And I’m not just talking about strewing potato chips on the floor as an early warning system—a strategy Lamb deployed to great success in one episode last season. Other characters in his not-so merry-band include an agent with a significant drug problem, another who can’t seem to quench his gambling habit, a former hacktivist with extremely limited emotional intelligence, and Louisa Guy, whose beauty and intelligence seem well-matched with the “boy wonder” River Cartwright. So definitely tune in for the characters, and you won’t be able to tune out because of the fast-paced plot that provides opportunities for each of these distinct players to apply their own unique blend of spycraft and blunder. (Apple+) –Augusta Rohrbach, associate provost, Office of the Vice Provost for Faculty

Station Eleven. Based on the 2014 book by Emily St. John Mandel, the Station Eleven miniseries on HBO Max is a gripping story of the aftermath of a deadly pandemic that resulted in the collapse of civilization. It was perhaps an odd choice to watch while in the middle of our most recent global pandemic, but surprisingly comforting in that the show’s circumstances were far worse, and the strength of the human spirit endured despite all that was lost. The storyline of the series does not entirely mirror the book, which may be frustrating to some viewers, but I felt like the changes made the plotline even more compelling. The relationship between the main characters, Jeevan and Kirsten, is moving and unexpected, reinforcing the theme that in the darkest of times, hope and love can survive. It’s not just the story itself that’s captivating, but also the visuals—depicting a peaceful apocalyptical world, which is a hard feat in and of itself. (HBO Max) –Leila Bhatti Migliorelli, senior director of donor relations, University Advancement.