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.
So much has been written, conjectured and analyzed about the Hall of Famer, the new 30 for 30 “Rodman: For Better or Worse,” narrated by Jamie Foxx, provides a valuable and sympathetic look at how he became the man behind the myth.
Ultimately, “Wu-Tang: An American Saga” is less about the music of the Wu-Tang Clan and more of a step back from the legend, letting the world know just how difficult and impressive the group’s meteoric rise was in every aspect, from financial to logistical to personal.