Staff Pick: Images of 2020

18 December 2020 ∙ Originally published in Dig Boston

(Presented below is an excerpt written by me from a larger staff piece)

Image from I May Destroy You, courtesy HBO

Image from I May Destroy You, courtesy HBO

I May Destroy You (2020)
12 episodes aired on HBO from June 7th through August 24th.

This is just one more drop in the immense bucket of praise Michaela Coel has received this year, but if it puts even one newcomer onto her considerable talents it’ll be worth it. She wrote, directed, executive produced, and starred in I May Destroy You, a 12-episode miniseries that follows the aftermath of a sexual assault: It is harrowing, candid and, astonishingly, hilarious. The trick to tackling such a sadly familiar situation, it turns out, is to be as truthful as possible—that is, to laugh and laugh until it stops being funny. Until you look around—or look inside—and realize the ways consent is continuously betrayed. Until you realize just how easy it is to be complicit in terrible behaviors, and how tenuous the lines are between right and wrong, true and false. So just as there are moments of incredible wit and humor, there are moments of terrifying insight and catharsis that leave your jaw on the floor until you’re ready to discuss—and discuss you must—with the nearest viewer. Coel does not shy away from truly disturbing explorations… but why would she? And why should she settle for a somber, self-serious tone when there is comedy to be found? I May Destroy You is Coel’s story to tell, and she does so beautifully.

Image from Circle Jerk, courtesy the artists

Image from Circle Jerk, courtesy the artists

Circle Jerk
Livestreamed 
on circlejerk.live from October 18th through November 4th.

Pity the historians or monolith-planting aliens or Illuminati reptilians who come across a copy of Circle Jerk in a thousand years and are tasked with figuring out what it is. Hell, ask most Gen Xers what it means and they’ll probably run away in helpless defeat. The genius—and it is genius—of this live theatre-film-experiment can most likely only be appreciated if you’ve spent the last decade of your life doomscrolling on Twitter (or, God forbid, 4chan), but it stands as a monument to the highs and lows of internet culture. So what is it? An extremely online retelling of the Faust myth, I think. Or maybe Frankenstein. But mostly, it’s a scathing takedown of white gay culture that was performed live nightly for a week in October. Three actors swap roles, sets, and media to bring us the story of how an alt-right troll, his influencer friend, their incel housekeeper, and their Catholic houseguest team up to create the perfect data-driven AI meme machine. Clocking in at roughly 18,000 jokes and pop culture references per minute, it is the perfect encapsulation of 2020: hard to explain, mostly virtual, and fucking unhinged.