On paper, “Bluff City Law” has all the components of a good courtroom drama. It’s got snappy dialogue, a fresh case every week, some moral introspection about good and evil in the American justice system. But in practice, the show falls flat.
What begins as an almost-threesome ends quickly in a cabin full of dead children, each missing an ear. This is the gory commencement of “American Horror Story: 1984,” the ninth installment in the long-running horror anthology series. True to its name, this season pays homage to the genre’s roots by harkening back to ’80s camp slashers like “Friday the 13th.” While it does borrow heavily from the Jason movies, that doesn’t make the show any less enjoyable.
Although the entire viewing audience deserves an apology (and maybe compensation) for bearing witness to the ungodly pressure of Spicer’s slacks on his crotch, who truly deserves an apology is the Latinx population of America who had to watch a man partially responsible for their ongoing disenfranchisement essentially take a steaming dump on their culture.
As a summer birthday baby, I’ve always felt spiritually connected to the Emmys — the forgotten birthday, if you will, of awards season. Sure, your friends tell you they’ll remember it when everyone is back at school, but you know the truth. In the same vein, everyone pretends that they’ll continue to respect the Emmys, but by the time the “golden girl” (the Academy Awards) rolls around the following spring, the Emmy Awards is expected to retreat back into obscurity.