Archer: Vice may be the weirdest creation since the aardvark. Season five of Adam Reed’s farcical spy series starts off with the bombing of ISIS headquarters and immediately jumps into the business of international cocaine dealing. Addiction, mysterious pregnancy, and country music collide in a truly horrifying way as the gang faces a brand new set of challenges.

Archer constantly tackles multiple plot lines in one season, a tactic that keeps the viewer engaged and entertained. The fifth season takes the idea of multiple plot lines to steroidal levels. Throughout the season the gang must focus on selling all of their cocaine, staying out of the eye of the FBI, furthering Carol/Cheryl/Cherlene’s country music career, managing Pam’s cocaine addiction, and wondering about Lana’s mysterious pregnancy. While it’s definitely a ballsy move to maintain so many plots at once, it creates a very busy season that isn’t always enjoyable.

The two plots I did enjoy were Pam’s cocaine addiction and Lana’s pregnancy. In reality, it highlights the importance of going to a drug detox and getting their help to get rid of addiction.

Let’s talk about Pam. For four seasons, Pam has been the show’s Ugly Betty. She’s constantly put down by her peers because of her weight and less-than-gorgeous appearance, as well as some personal flaws. No matter what, Pam had always found a way to muscle through the hate and prove herself to be a strong character. In season five Pam does a complete 180, becoming bodacious and dangerous because of cocaine. Instead of comical, her faults have become problematic for the group. A good chunk of the season is dedicated to putting a stop to Pam’s addiction, an interesting goal in a show rank with high-functioning alcoholism and sex addiction.

While Pam’s plot line is pretty unique in terms of season-arcs, it doesn’t hold a candle to Lana’s. In the fourth season finale, Lana revealed to the gang that she was pregnant and that the baby wasn’t Cyril’s, despite the fact the two were dating. She’s pregnant throughout the entire fifth season, and it provides many interesting moments of introspection for the kick-ass spy. While it hardly slows her down, the pregnancy causes Lana to confront and explore the dangers of her job, both immediate and potential. Her entire sense of identity has come into question, as she is no longer a spy, but an expecting mother. Even though the pregnancy was completely her choice, it has unforeseen consequences for Lana.

I really don’t like season five (lookin’ at you, Cherlene), so I won’t waste more words than needed on the subject. Archer is available on Netflix and DVD.

The post Between the Lines: Archer, Season 5: Cocaine and Kids appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Trigger Warning: Article discusses abuse and sexual assault.

As evidenced in seasons past, Adam Reed has no qualms about tackling tough social issues and inserting his opinions into his creative work. Archer‘s fourth season, however, goes above and beyond in the social issues department. In every episode, some social or political undertone (if not full-on focal tone) can be isolated and identified. There were a couple epsidoes that stood out to me for their controversial material and sheer ballsiness.

Episode 2, “The Wind Cries Mary”

So, Archer has a complicated relationship with sexual assault. On one hand, Adam Reed puts forth a conscious effort to make sure Archer’s sexual conquests are include (his idea of) consent. On the other, almost every other character has committed some form of sexual assault without experiencing much – if any – comeupance. On the third, biomechanic hand, the characters aren’t exactly lauded for their actions. One could even argue Reed is simply observing the casual way in which sexual assault — especially in the workplace and among friends/acquaintances — is treated.

I bring up the show’s history with sexual assault because in just the second episode, Reed drops a shitbomb on both the viewer and Archer. The episode begins with Archer finding out his long-time, no-see best friend Lucas Troy (Timothy Olyphant) has been killed, then immediately discovering the opposite. Archer wastes no time responding to Luke’s summons, which leads him to a decrepit B&B in Vermont. There, Archer learns that Luke 1) betrayed his fellow agents, 2) stole a shit ton of money, and 3) is in love with him.

Of course, the episode features countless moments of humorous tomfoolery to distract from the seriousness of Archer’s situation. The hilarious subplot of annual peer reviews almost makes you forget how terrifying it would be to be drugged and held against your will in snowy Vermont. Almost.

The weirdest, most cringe-worthy moment comes when Lana – who, accompanied by Cyril, was sent out to rescue Archer – finally bests Luke, via death by giant tree. Bleeding to death in the snow, Luke makes a final confession to Archer. When the two were in training for ISIS, they happened to get absolutely shitfaced. While Archer was passed out, love-struck Luke snuck into the room, suntan oil in hand with one thing in mind: rape.

The episode ends with Lana driving Cyril and Archer back to ISIS headquarters, Lana and Cyril clearly disturbed and concerned and Archer clutching a bottle of alcohol, unsure of how to deal with the recent turn of events. Of course, the situation isn’t later addressed beyond half-second references, so I would hardly call it an after-school special on sexual assault. Once again looking to the other hand, it could also be Reed once again making light of an observance: the silence and ignorance that male rape victims often face. However, that could always be a coincidence.

Episode 8, “Coyote Ugly”

Next up on the social issues checklist: immigration. In this episode, Archer, Lana, and Cyril are charged with stopping a Mexican immigration ring from crossing the border into Texas. Unsurprisingly, conflicting views on immigration come to light, with Lana, Malory, and Cheryl leaning right and Pam, Cyril and Archer leaning left. In the end, Archer aids the group in making their way safely into the States.

The episode is a great example of Reed’s ability to address a controversial, relevant topic without smacking the viewer upside the head with it. The mission fits in well with what ISIS typically gets assigned to do, and the conversation around it comes off as naturally as it would in a real-life discussion.

I love that Reed took the time to address such a relevant topic, and seems to be on the liberal side of the debate. At its roots, Archer is meant to persuade you to root for a character you normally wouldn’t – its titular antagonistic protagonist. Accomplishing this goal first requires Archer to be crass, insensitive, and an undeniable asshole. However, Archer must have redeeming qualities, which include – but are not limited to – an awareness of social issues, a keen sense of justice, and a belief that people should treated a certain way because of who they are, not what they are.

Archer is available on Netflix and Amazon Prime.

The post Archer, Season 4 – Social Issues appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Season 2 of Adam Reed’s spy-comedy Archer ended with the horrific death of Archer’s Russian almost-wife, Katya (Ona Grauer). Not only was this a catalyst for the Archer-Cyborg Barry conflict that would continue for five seasons, but it served as driving force for much of Season 3’s action.

Not unlike the previous seasons, Season 3 spends a considerable amount of time on Archer’s sexual prowess. His first appearance of the season finds him in bed with a newly-wed woman on a small, French-Polynesian island. From there, he sleeps with a number of other women throughout the season, including his coworker, Pam. Unlike previous seasons, Archer has a shadow hanging over him during every hookup: his dead fiance. While this is mostly addressed at the beginning and end of the season, it plays an important part in Archer’s character development.

The effects of Katya’s death are most evident in the first three episodes of the season – Heart of Archness 1, 2, and 3. Following his bloody wedding, Archer runs away to a French-Polynesian island to grieve. There, he discovers his grieving process – bar-tending and banging newlyweds. He’s interrupted mid-process by man-hunter Rip Riley (Patrick Warburton), who’s been sent by Malory to retrieve Archer. Unwillingly, Rip takes Archer onto his sea plane, which ultimately crashes. Soon after, Rip and Archer are picked up by pirates. Long story short, Archer goes from grieving-lover to middle-aged-runaway to sexually-vivacious-bartender to pirate-king to hostage back to ISIS-agent in a matter of days.

These antics may seem nothing-out-of-the-ordinary for Sterling Archer, but they point to a complete loss of identity. For most of his adult life, Archer has defined himself by his field of work. He’s a badass spy, unafraid of illness or injury, taker of lives and maker of widows, bachelor extraordinaire, etc. Katya’s presence in the first place had a marked effect on Archer as she was the first woman he was willing to commit to since Lana. He was moments away from marrying her when Katya’s life was cut tragically short. It’s unsurprising that her death – and the trauma it caused – drove him to abandon his identity. The only way for him to cope with such a huge loss was erase his entire life and start fresh.

Despite the trauma and loss, Archer does manage to move forward with his life, until – in the eleventh episode – Katya is reintroduced as a cyborg created by Krieger in the ISIS lab. This causes intense conflict for Archer, whose love for Katya has now been pitted against his hatred for cyborgs. In the end, his hatred wins out and he must let her go.

Aside from Archer’s character developments, the season contains noteworthy moments for its other characters. Pam becomes Archer’s sexual partner, which further solidifies their relationship while providing even more conflict for Archer as the generally unappealing Pam becomes the “best sex he’s ever had.” Pam is also given a moment to shine in the seventh episode. Here, Pam’s skills as a drifter come to light as the gang tries to recover Archer’s “stolen” car. By the end of the third season, Pam has become a bit more than a punchline, and even attempts to become a field agent after passing the admittance tests with flying colors.

Another punchline character gets his moment in the spotlight in the third season: Ray Gillette. Ray started out as a temporary character, meant to last only one episode. The character got such a strong response, however, that Reed decided to keep him in the mix. The problem that arises from this is that Ray was a “novelty character,” specifically the “sassy gay friend.” There is often a tendency with gay characters to rely on stereotypes and comic relief. Reed did a decent job addressing this challenge, immediately taking Ray’s “flamboyance” down a few levels and humanizing him in several different ways. By the end of the third season, Ray has been established as a badass in his own right. He’s a kickass field agent, grew up familiar with manual labor, and is extremely intelligent.

Unfortunately for Ray, Reed still needed to kick the character in the crotch a bit to make him more “human” and less “novelty,” so Ray got blinded in one eye and paralyzed. Ray’s handicapped status actually acts as a “bit” in the show, and he frequently alternates between “abled” and “disabled.” Ray’s other kick-in-the-crotch comes in the form of his brother, Randy. Ray’s trip to his hometown of Ferlin, West Virginia gives the viewer a peek into what Ray’s childhood consisted of: intolerance, toxic masculinity, and filth. It also allows us to see Ray interact with a loved one. In one episode, we gain sympathy for Ray as well as a reason to rally behind him. He’s sweet and loyal, but strong and fearless as well.

All in all, the third season of Archer may be my favorite. The level of character development almost outweighs the questionable humor. The third season of Archer is available on Netflix, as well as on DVD on Amazon.

The post Between the Lines: Archer, Season 3: Grief and Sexuality appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Content Warning: Article contains strong language and drug/alcohol references.

Trigger Warning: Article discusses rape and sexual assault.

So, I’ve done a lot of talking about Adam Reed’s attempts make his audience root for Archer. He is established as a complete asshole in almost every way possible. However, once season two rolls around, Reed changes gears and makes every effort to victimize Archer. After all, how else do you manufacture sympathy?

Reed goes right for the jugular and kicks off the second season with Archer having to fend off the advances of 16-year-old Anke, who he’s been charged to protect. No one believes him when he cries “attempted rape,” and he spends the entire episode being berated by his coworkers. The episode not only serves as a way to get us on Archer’s side (as he is very clearly being sexually harassed by his charge), but as a way for Reed to further an agenda. He attacks the issue of society’s view of male rape victims. Not only does no one believe him because of his sexual promiscuity, but also because he’s an adult man and she’s a young woman. There’s no possible way a young woman could be pressuring an adult man into sex, right? Right?

Wrong. Unfortunately, rape happens, in spite of either party’s sex, gender, age, or promiscuity.

Moving forward from my PSA, Reed starts off season two by making Archer a sexual assault victim. Soon after, he hits us with another doozy: Archer being framed in a paternity test. Long story short, Archer’s favorite hooker Trinette skews the blood test to get him back for being a shithead. Once again, no one believes Archer when he says the baby can’t possibly be his solely because of his promiscuity. Archer’s a liar and an asshole – even though he tampered with the blood test and replaced his blood with Cyril’s, the baby has to be his. Once again, Reed uses humor to a) address societal double standards and b) humanize Archer.

A few episodes later, Reed goes straight for the heart strings and tackles one more double standard that puts men in an unfortunate situation – breast cancer. Episode eight starts with the group thinking Malory is at risk of breast cancer. Already, we feel bad for Archer because his mother may have cancer. The tables are turned by the end of the episode, and after about twenty emotional, alcohol-soaked minutes, Archer not only has cancer, but it spreads after his initial surgery. The following episode, Placebo Effect, – one of my favorites – follows Archer on a weed-and-chemo-fueled rampage as he tries to find the man selling fake cancer drugs. By the end of this episode, Archer is a cancer survivor who saves countless lives (including his own) by stopping the sale of fake cancer treatment drugs. However, there was one life he couldn’t save – his elderly, cancer-ridden friend Ruth. If you don’t have sympathy for Archer at this point, I don’t what will convince you. A dead fiance, perhaps?

That’s right. Adam Reed ends the second season of Archer with Archer’s fiance getting killed right as they’re about to get married. While Katya returns in later seasons (in some form), her death is a major blow to Archer, and he spends the first three episodes of season three on the run in Polynesia, trying to cope with Katya’s abrupt end. Archer gets shit on in almost every way possible throughout the second season, and I have to admit that by the end, I developed a soft spot for the bastard.

Archer is a problematic show for many reasons, one of them being the fact that Adam Reed considers sex with your unconscious friend humorous, not rape (“Blood Test”). Reed does a 180 with a this view in a later season, but that doesn’t excuse the events of the previous episode.

I will commend Reed’s ability to use humor as a way to address the double standards he observes in society. While it’s clear that Reed has an alternative agenda, none of the episodes feel like PSA’s. Even blunt statements about men needing to be checked for breast cancer or Archer’s promiscuity and age make him ineligible as a rape victim come off as satirical rather than heavy-handed. Reed is a very talented writer, but he still has a ways to go as far as awareness of social issues.

Season two of Archer is available on FX’s website and Netflix.

The post Between the Lines: Archer, Season 2: Archer the Victim appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Content Warning: Article discusses sex and drug/alcohol use and contains strong language.

As I mention in my last article, the character of Archer was meant to be a comedic, modern-day James Bond, with a few more moral scruples. Basically, Archer is supposed to be the jerk we can root for. He’s a badass spy, smooth with the ladies, and reeks of self-confidence. At the end of the day, though, he is nothing more than a grown-up schoolyard bully with a maturity level to match.

To be fair, Archer isn’t the only character at fault. While Archer does act as a foil for the other employees at the ISIS Spy Agency, every character has their problematic moments.

The first season’s humor is mainly offensive, which easily establishes Archer and his colleagues as douchebags. Racist jokes, queerphobic jokes, fetish jokes, addiction jokes, sexist jokes, and – Adam Reed’s favorite – fat jokes. Now, most of these are made purely for the shock factor. As the audience, we’re supposed to be smart enough to understand that these jokes do not ring true and are meant to appreciate them as laughably awful remarks for anyone to make. One way Reed tries to achieve this effect is by having the show acknowledge – and therefore, apologize for – its humor.

When watching season one, it’s a challenge to go two minutes without hearing someone quip about Pam’s weight. Even characters like Lana and Cyril – whom we’re supposed to regard as morally above Malory and Sterling – can’t help but take cracks at Pam’s obesity. While it’s true that Pam almost always calls attention to or defends herself against their comments, this isn’t enough to excuse the fact that Reed uses fat-shaming as a humor-crutch.

A similar situation arises once Ray Gillette is introduced. Ray starts out as the token gay character, thrown in for one episode to provide comic relief during a life-and-death situation. Because he was not intended to stay in the show, Adam Reed chose to voice him – and also chose to give him a “gay” voice (high-pitched, feminine, and with a bit of a lilt at the end of each sentence). Ray got a positive enough response that Reed decided to keep him around. The situation doesn’t call for complaint on Adam Reed – a straight man – voicing a gay character. It does, however, call for some critical analysis on the way Ray is presented and treated in the show. Like Pam, he’s given development and actual characteristics that make him more than his label. And just like Pam, he is treated as an “other.” Every gay joke possible is made at his expense, even in the face of danger. Ray tries to defend himself, but that isn’t enough to excuse the show, once again, falling back on lazy humor trends.

Like any show, the first season of Archer is pretty rough. It’s not supposed to be an example of the show at its zenith, and I can appreciate it as both a rough draft and the required exposition for further story/character development. What I have a difficult time appreciating is the blatant use of offensive humor. Even with an understanding that the characters are not on any moral pedestals, it’s disturbing to see what is considered humorous. By continuing the trend of treating peoples’ bodies and sexualities as nothing more than punchlines, we continue the idea that there is a “normal” and an “other.” Though Archer tries to be a somewhat forward-thinking show, it’s clear that “normal” – and therefore, acceptable – is still straight, white, and (toxically) masculine.

The first season of Archer is available on DVD, Amazon Prime, and Netflix.

The post Between the Lines: Archer, Season 1: Humor appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Content Warning: Article contains strong language and drug and alcohol references.

Trigger Warning: Article discusses rape.

We all have that one friend who’s constantly trying to get you to join in on their obsessions – this steamy kale cookbook, those panic-curing ‘shrooms – you know who they are. As an open-minded, laid-back person, I’m the perfect prey for my Obsession Friend – we’ll call him Randy. He finds something cool/hilarious/intriguing/orgasmic, I have to know about it. About 83% of the time the obsession takes, and I find myself ovaries-deep in shows and music I normally wouldn’t have bothered with.

So far, I’ve decided to count this more as a blessing than as a curse. I’ve come to genuinely enjoy music like that of Tom Waits and Lin-Manuel Miranda and shows like Jessica Jones and The Twilight Zone. As much as I hate to admit it, the bastard has decent taste.

As with everything, there is a grey area. While Randy has introduced me to some wonderful media, he’s not always on point. Example: Archer. The plot of the show is innocent enough – a devil-may-care, alcoholic secret agent with mommy issues incites outrage with everyone around him. Hilarity ensues. All right, I’ll bite.

And bite I did, right into a racist/sexist/homophobic/body-shaming sandwich. Imagine the look of shock on my face when I realize my dear, intelligent, socially-aware friend Randy enjoys adult animation based on insulting every group possible in the name of humor.

“It gets better,” he assures me, “the first season is pretty rough. The humor gets better as the show goes on, and besides they’re all horrible people. They’re not good people, this isn’t how good people are supposed to act. They’re messed up people just being…horrible.”

I couldn’t agree more, Randy. That’s exactly what the show is – horrible people doing horrible things who are, somehow, getting you to root for them.

And that’s where I start to side-eye.

This show was made with good intentions, it really was. Adam Reed didn’t go into it thinking, “How many people can I piss off whilst hiding behind humor?” In an interview with AdWeek, Reed reveals that,

“…Somebody had given me…a matched set of the James Bond novels—paperbacks from the ’60s…James Bond, in the books, is just a bad person. Obviously he drinks too much. He’s sort of a cold-blooded assassin and there’s plenty of racism. But there’s more than one occasion where Bond just rapes these women but in a ‘romantic’ way where you can practically hear the violins swell. I mean, Fleming writes stuff like, “Bond twisted her arm behind her back and took his reward.” And I’m like, ‘Holy shit. James Bond?’

That sort of got the wheels spinning. Like OK, what if this guy was just the biggest dick ever? How could you do that and still root for him? I guess the genesis really came out of the James Bond novels. We’ve never had Archer rape anybody, though.”

— Adam Reed, AdWeek, January 6, 2015

Sterling Archer is nowhere near as bad as the literary James Bond. Hell, I’d root for him over the cinematic James Bond any day, who still has a lot to learn about the rules of consent. But Archer has a long way to go before it’s characters can be completely root-able (not a word, bear with me). The show is a great example of how to highlight social issues in light, comical way. It’s also a great example of how far we have to go in understanding how deeply those issues run.

Let’s start with that last line, shall we? “We’ve never had Archer rape anybody though.” Sterling Archer has never forced a woman to have sex with him. Ever. It’s never mentioned nor shone, so I accept it as canon that Archer has never done this. However, there are plenty of instances where Archer’s sexual partners (and, sometimes, Archer) wake up after being extremely intoxicated. Actually, that’s true for the entire show. About 83% of the sexual encounters in the show happen with the assistance of copious amounts of alcohol. That’s a huge grey area that’s really coming under fire right now, especially on college campuses where alcohol and sex easily become mutually exclusive. With consent being such a hot topic, it’s interesting to take a step back from the experiences and look at where those experiences begin: the media.

A lot of what Adam Reed does with Archer is done in an attempt to shed light on sensitive situations. As good as Reed’s intentions are, I have to fault him for continuing the idea that trashed hookups are “normal” and not problematic situations, among other things. The fact that he believes his show promotes consensual sex is a great example of how much catching-up our media has to do. “Rape” is still mainly synonymous with sexual violence and “no means no.” We can publish article after article on consent, but until our televisions stop promoting alcohol as the ultimate wing-man, we will struggle to make headway.

Stay tuned for the next article where I begin to take a look at Archer season by season.

Seasons 1-6 of Archer are available on Netflix. Season 7 is currently airing on FX and episodes are available on the website.

The post Between the Lines: Archer appeared first on KRUI Radio.