The Knick

The Knick certainly isn't the TV series revolution that many critics and viewers proclaim, but it's certainly a testament to the superiority of the auteur series, especially because of how formally unsettling and insular it is in its unkind world. Soderbergh does an excellent job of masking the scant locations (one street and about 15-20 rooms) by constantly changing the camera angles, often using low depth of field to lock the suffering characters away from the outside world, from which each is hiding something, and swooping through rooms and hallways in long unbroken takes, which explains the overall darkness since it's almost impossible to artificially light a scene under such circumstances. And the likes of Clive Owen pretty much makes any episode just by being in it. If he weren't an actor with such unrelenting qualities anywhere he appears, one could certainly talk about this as the role of a lifetime. The Knick, however, suffers from that somewhat tired "no one is what they seem and everyone is kind of the antithesis of what they appear to be" concept. Combined with its repeated (over and over and over) traipsing into contemporary social issues, it kind of forgets that the joke is on them, because then how am I supposed to explain that the film wants me to be shocked that a nun can also be a midwife, a renowned doctor a first-class junkie, or a black man a good doctor? Besides, The Knick has no purpose, it's just a series of relationship episodes and personal dilemmas set against the backdrop of a troubled time where a mask of gentlemanliness, elegant fashions clothes, and ornate house gables belie the abortion clinics, illegal operating rooms, opium dens, and the offices of loan sharks. As one user here wittily remarked, "The Rose Garden Clinic for better folk". Still, I'm happy to delve into that dark, murky world of torment and misery in the second season. (07/29/2018)

The fantastic cinematography and the incredible Clive Owen still couldn’t sustain nine and a half hours of episodes without a coherent plot. Especially if the previous driver of the stalwart Dr. Thackery and clears the stage for the other one-dimensional to cartoonish characters with their unchanging motivations, played by amateur actors (Jeremy Bobb, Juliet Rylance, Eric Johnson). The unflinching finale does, ultimately, really get you out of the blue, but otherwise this whole overlong adventure can be summed up in lessons like don't be a racist, use a rubber, don't do drugs, and don't trust charlatans. (12/08/2018)