I’m going to try to catch Think Like a Man this week, so I’ll be able to report back on whether this romantic comedy, which boasts a mostly-African American cast, is actually any good. But I am very, very curious to see how the coverage of it plays out over the next several weeks, and whether any projects get greenlit as a result. Think Like a Man was on track to make $33 million this weekend even though it only opened in 2,017 theaters, or $15,369 per theater. By contrast, uber-white The Vow, which starred Channing Tatum and Rachel McAdams, substantially bigger stars, opened with $41 million in 2,958 theaters, or $13,860 per theater.

So what’s the lesson going to be? Will it be that if you do the marketing right—a lot of the trailers were from the perspectives of the male characters rather than the women—men will turn out for romantic comedies? Apparently, audiences for Think Like a Man were 37 percent male. Will it be that romantic comedies with black stars can cross over? I haven’t found breakout data on the racial makeup of audiences, though the studio appears to be claiming that racial crossover is part of the movie’s success. Will it be that there’s pent-up desire for romantic comedies, or movies period, with black casts? That if you court black journalists, students at historically black colleges and universities, and similar outlets and constituencies, you’ll get exceedingly strong turnout for a movie that actually engages with the target audience rather than tokenizing it? Will it be that maybe it’s time to see if Michael Ealy and Romany Malco are viable romantic comedy stars? Hollywood was willing to do a fair amount of work with Tatum before he became both a box-office monster and started getting nice reviews from people who aren’t observant ladies like me. Maybe Ealy, Malco, and the other men in this movie have proved they’ve earned the same amount of patience?

I would be shocked if this was the movie that made the difference and made Hollywood wake up. But I’d like it to be really clear the lessons that they should take. No one should get to claim a passing grade because they burned all the copies of the test papers.

I will absolutely go see Moonrise Kingdom, Wes Anderson’s new movie about a New England summer camp set in 1965, both because the goodwill that Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums garnered have yet to die, and because the movie reminds me of novels like Edward Eager’s stories of magic or Elizabeth Enright’s books about precocious young children creating their own worlds:

Anderson’s movies, for me, have always been about the gap between the worlds that privileged people want to build for themselves to live in and their ability, whether psychologically or materially, to maintain those worlds. The gap between Max Fischer’s attempts to build a paradise for himself at his private school in Rushmore and the reality of his grades and his status at the school, especially given his lies about his sexual success and the fact that his father is a barber, was evident almost from the beginning of the film. The Royal Tenenbaums is about the compromises made by ever single member of a privileged New York family over a short period that forces their reconciliations and reckonings. They’re both movies in relatively realistic broad settings that are made surreal by the way their main characters approach them.

The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, about an arrogant oceanographic explorer, follows the same themes, but less successfully. Whereas in previous movies, Anderson’s heroes like Fischer or Royal Tenenbaum are forced to let go of the women they’ve become fixated on, and become better men for the adjustment of their self-images to more realistic proportions, Steve Zissou sacrifices the son he abandoned and then treated callously and gets his wife back anyway. Fantastic Mr. Fox is a fundamentally different kind of movie, an adaptation of a children’s book, the kind of literature that encourages children to dream beyond their capacities so they’ll grow, and that gets followed by the kind of literature that involves reconciliation to reality and limitation.

Moonrise Kingdom looks like The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou and Fantastic Mr. Fox in that it involves an inherently precious setting, rather than a relatively mundane one that privileged people are trying to elevate because it doesn’t feel special enough to them. And it’s definitely a story about children as much as it is about adults. Beyond that, I’ll be curious to see how it turns out. Anderson can be alternately tough and soft on spoiled people (sometimes he’s able to be hard on even his flakiest characters because he has so much affection for his them). I think one of the reasons I’m still so interested in his career is because it’s still not clear where he stands on his selfish, self-made creations.

In December, Lego expanded its MinFigs line — its slightly more realistic line of toys — to include a range of female characters. The company made a real effort to make the toys, dubbed Lego Friends, multi-cultural (they brought in a range of consultants from different countries). But two aspects of the new toys made waves. First, the Lego Friends have the curvy bodies of women who have been through puberty, rather than the undifferentiated bodies of young girls or the blocky, sexless bodies of traditional Lego figurines. And second, the world the Lego Friends live in has a slight bias towards traditionally girly occupations and activities—the beauticians and bakers outnumber the inventor.

Those two factors have produced enough of a backlash that Lego has agreed to meet with a group of petitioners troubled by the figures. And that, unsurprisingly, is setting off conservatives who see those petitioners as in willful denial about differences between the sexes. Via Fox News:

Dr. Leonard Sax, author of “Why Gender Matters: What Parents and Teachers Need to Know About the Emerging Science of Sex Differences,” said gender differences are natural, and that while some girls may prefer traditional LEGOs, there is nothing wrong with the company offering what it sees as a girl-friendly version. According to Sax, even animals in the wild show differences along gender lines from the earliest ages.

“These particular women’s groups are disconnected from reality in their desire to promote the idea that these gender differences are taught by the patriarchy or through socialization,” Sax, who also authored “Boys Adrift” and “Girls on the Edge,” told FoxNews.com. “The sexualization of children is indeed an important issue, but this is not a part of that.”

I’m of two minds about this. I see precisely nothing wrong with toy lines for girls that include figures performing traditionally female occupations or activities, as well as options that show them performing more gender-specific roles. There’s nothing wrong with being pretty, or spending time on your hair or clothes, or baking. The problem is the idea that those kinds of activities and preferences are mandatory, or the only option for girls. I’d never want to teach my theoretical daughter that being pretty is the only way to be strong, nor, if she turned out to lean girly, that such interests were in some way incompatible with being a scientist or an elected official.

I’m more sympathetic to the complaint about the fact that the figures are shown as curvy rather than pre-pubescent or simply in the standard Lego body. The Minifigure line preserves the toys bodies in the original Lego mold, rather than giving male figures broader shoulders or any other sign of sexual maturity. You don’t actually need those signs of manhood in order to represent a Star Wars Storm Trooper any more than you need breasts to bake a cake. But giving the Lego Friends breasts and adult bodies is following the trend of toys for girls, whether it’s Barbie, who has always been a teenager or orlder, or the Bratz dolls, who make up what they lack in noses in womanly curves. I agree with conservatives that parents should have choices about what kind of depictions of womanhood they want their children to get from their toys, and at what stages. I agree with liberals, though, that Lego could have sailed against the prevailing trend in girls’ toys and offered parents a choice of toys aimed at girls that are less expensive than the American Girl dolls, and that don’t look like they’ve gone through puberty.

This post contains spoilers for the April 15 and 22 episodes of Girls and the April 22 episode of Veep.

On a superficial level, Selina Meyer and Hannah Hovarth, the main characters of HBO’s new Sunday-night half-hour comedies, have nothing in common. The former is the Vice President of the United States. The latter just lost her internship at New York’s Smarmiest Publishing House because her boss wouldn’t hire her without photoshop skills. Selina has a great wardrobe and a body man named Gary to attend to her needs as they arise. Hannah’s clothes don’t fit—”I’m a growing girl,” she tells her mother who’s complaining about her wolfing down spaghetti in a nice restaurant. And while Hannah’s mistakes mostly result in her own humiliation and impoverishment, Selina’s run the risk of upsetting the political balance, or, as her chief of staff Amy puts it when the wrong name gets signed to a condolence card for a Senator’s widow, “It’s going to look like the veep couldn’t be bothered to sign a condolence card for one of the most celebrated perverts on the Senate.”

But the reason the shows act as a wallop taking together, and what makes them such an unexpectedly perfect follow-up to Game of Thrones, is that Girls and Veep actually explore some of the same issues as that swords-and-savagery epic: how choices expand and contract in unexpected ways as you move from the constrained people in society to the most powerful.

Selina’s Washington and Hannah’s New York are rife with obvious hypocrisies that the characters (and the shows that contain them) see clearly but have no choice to work with rather than to confront. “I wouldn’t take shit from my parents,” Adam, the guy Hannah is sleeping with but not quite dating—he won’t return her texts—tells her. “They’re buffoons. But my grandma gives me $800 a month.” And as the Veep navigates the protocol surrounding the Senator’s death, Jonah, the gawky, obnoxious liaison from the White House who has a thing for Amy tells the younger woman “When a sexual harasser dies, we sign his wife’s card. That’s how Washington works.” You can speak the truth or recognize it, but that doesn’t mean that you have the option to behave differently in the face of it.

That may also be a function of the character’s capacities. Selina may have a layer of outer polish that Hannah lacks, but they’re both fundamentally awkward people. When Selina’s searching for an opening line at an event she has to attend, she settles on “I have stepped into the president’s shoes this evening and who knew he wore kitten heels. Just kidding. He’s more of a stilettos guy.” Her joke lands with an enormous thud, though at least it’s not as mortifying as the direction in which Hannah takes job-interview banter. When she comes out with that hideous date-rape thing that’s meant to be a joke, I was as angry at her as her interviewer was. Maybe angrier, because unlike him, I know that Hannah can be wonderfully perceptive, and I hate watching her sink her own battleship.

And while power may be an aphrodisiac, having it doesn’t appear to have made Selina’s sex life much better than Hannah’s. “He was full of bourbon, and he grabbed my left tit,” she notes of the dead Senator. And later, she explains, “It’s a date and no sex. For me that was 12 years of marriage.” Hannah may be getting laid, but it’s with a guy who tells her “let’s play the quiet game” while they’re having sex, spins out ludicrous fantasies, and doesn’t pay much attention to her needs. That was so good,” she tells him. “I almost came.”

The main difference between them, though? Hannah is terrified of responsibility, telling the gynecologist doing her exam that “If you get AIDS, no one’s going to call you on the phone and say, did you get a job?” But Selina would love some, asking Sue mournfully if the President’s called. Whether Hannah will face up to the fact that her rent is due or POTUS will call the Veep first remains an open question.

The bridge is yours.

-The end of the Red Sox decade.

-Joss Whedon on The Avengers and creative frustration.

-More details on SyFy’s new series Defiance.

-Morgan Spurlock, having written a shallow love letter to Comic-Con, is moving on to male grooming.

-Great: more ammunition for the men and women can’t be friends lobby:

On Friday, I laid out in detail the data on how women of color are underrepresented—and underpaid—in every aspect of the television industry. Today, I want to do something a little different. We all know about Shonda Rhimes, the single most powerful woman of color in the television business. And in the post-Girls conversation about the women of color who should be given the kind of creative control and financial backing that creators like Lena Dunham and Louis C.K. have received from HBO and FX, respectively, Issa Rae, the creator and star of the marvelous web series The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl, has come up repeatedly as a suggestion. Rae’s work is tremendous, and unfortunately, it seems like her conversations with television networks lead her to conclude it was better to retain creative control and stay on the web rather than surrender her vision in exchange for a budget and amplification, and that rigidity on the networks’ part is a loss for them, and her, and us.

But it’s also worth remembering the women of color writing for network television who are less immediately visible because they don’t also appear in front of the camera. I called up a couple of television writers whose work I enjoy and asked them to recommend their colleagues, and added a few of my own. These are just a few of the women of color whose work is worth watching, and supporting. Some of them have already run their own shows. And I’d love to see more of them get a chance to do so in the future. In no particular order:

1) Nahnatchka Khan: Khan came up as a writer and producer on comedies like Malcolm in the Middle and American Dad*. She created Don’t Trust the B—- in Apt. 23, starring Dreama Walker, Krysten Ritter, and James Van Der Beek, which premiered on ABC earlier this month.

2) Denise Thé: Thé got her staff writing start on Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, and has since gone on to serve as the story editor on Medium and to write for Cold Case and Person of Interest.

3) Mara Brock Akil: She created Girlfriends and that show’s spinoff The Game. She’s a consulting producer on Cougar Town. And she wrote Sparkle, the Motown period piece that will be Whitney Houston’s last movie, and Gabrielle Union star vehicle Being Mary Jane, both of which are due out this year.

4) Silvia Olivas: Olivas co-produced Moesha and The Brothers Garcia, part of an initiative to make shows with Latino characters that would appeal to diverse audiences (these days, we just get Rob!). Recently, she’s been writing for children’s shows like Martha Speaks and Special Agent Oso.

5) Maurissa Tancharoen: Part of the Whedonverse by marriage (Tancharoen is married to Jed Whedon), Tancharoen wrote for Dollhouse, and currently is writing and producing in the Spartacus franchise for Starz.

6) Aisha Muharrar: Muharrar writes what I think are consistently some of the warmest episodes on Parks and Recreation, including “Kaboom,” involving prank volunteerism, and this season’s “Born and Raised,” the show’s rebuke to birtherism.

7) Stacy Littlejohn: She created MTV’s Single Ladies, wrote for both Wanda Sykes and Cedric the Entertainer, and has produced Life With Bonnie and All of Us.

8) Cherry Chevapravatdumrong: Another veteran of Seth MacFarlane shows, Chevapravatdumrong is a long time Family Guy writer and story editor, including credits on the series’ movies.

9) Natalie Chaidez : She’s produced In Plain Sight, V, Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, Heroes, Judging Amy, Cracker: Mind Over Murder, and New York Undercover and written for all those shows as well as Kojak, Skin, and Past Life. Need I say more?

10) Elaine Ko: Another veteran of the Family Guy writers’ room, Ko is presently a writer and executive story editor on Modern Family, one of the most successful comedies on television.

*I was totally surprised by this, but it’s notable how many women on this list are veterans of Seth MacFarlane shows.

Last summer, Bradlee Dean, the drummer for rapcore band Junkyard Prophet and a virulently anti-gay advocate whose ministry is based in Rep. Michelle Bachmann district, sued MSNBC host Rachel Maddow for defaming him. Maddow and her lawyers contend that the charges constitute a strategic lawsuit against public participation, an attempt to quash her free speech rights, and filed a motion to have them dismissed. The lawsuit has been roundly and hilariously dismantled. But it’s worth taking a look at Maddow’s petition to dismiss the suit and revisiting Dean’s initial complaint for what it reveals about the conservative sense of entitlement in the public square.

When he initially filed the suit, Dean claimed that one of Maddow’s broadcasts had unfairly misconstrued his words, because “I once made reference to how even Muslims oppose homosexuality under Shariah law. I did not suggest that I condoned the methods that radical Muslims use to enforce Shariah law, but made this analogy to prod Christians to become more concerned about what was going on in our schools with the nation’s youth.” Maddow was commenting on a broadcast in which Dean said:

Muslims are calling for the execution for homosexuals in America, this was just released yesterday and it shows you that they themselves are upholding the laws that are even in the Bible, the Judeo Christian God. They seem to be more moral than even the American Christians do. Because these people are livid about enforcing their laws, they know homosexuality is an abomination.

Maddow’s contention is that it’s reasonable to read that his statement as expressing at least some approval of the murder of homosexuals. “The broadcast truthfully reported on Dean’s May 15 statements. Those broadcasts re-played original audio of Dean speaking on the May 15 radio show. Dean does not—and cannot—allege that he did not make those controversial statements,” her petition to dismiss the case argues. “The fact that NBCUniversal broadcast the essence but not the entirety of what Dean said during that radio show, as he now protests, does not change this analysis. Dean bears sole responsibility for the consequences of his words, however much he may try to distance himself from the backlash…As Dean is entitled to his opinions, however objectionable, so too is Maddow entitled to hers.”

That last sentence, in particular, highlights the difference between Dean’s worldview and the one I assume most of us share with Maddow. Dean thinks that he’s entitled to the most generous reading of his words, one that leaches the malice out of his language even when the collected weight of his statements would mitigate against such gentling. (Maddow, as she makes clear in the motion, made clear that Dean wasn’t advocating the actual murder of homosexuals.) And he thinks, because he believes he’s right, that Maddow isn’t entitled to her own opinions of him, much less a generous interpretation of her broadcasts. Dean said in his announcement of the lawsuit that, as he’d started his ministry, “In the course of doing high school assemblies, I was shocked to learn that there were those that were offended at my message to teach our nation’s youth that homosexuality is not a preferred lifestyle.”

There’s something totalitarian—and privileged—about that kind of thinking. Gay people like Rachel Maddow don’t particularly have the luxury of being unaware that there are people who think they’re unnatural and their lives are abominable and ought to be outlawed. And despite the rise of GLAAD, which uses societal pressure to try to marginalize anti-gay speech, there’s a difference between that kind of positioning and Dean’s attempts to “stop ‘the radical gay agenda,’…to use the judicial process in this fashion.” Dean and his fellow travelers want a legal regime that will protect them against the fact that their argument is doomed to failure. They’re not likely to get it.

This post contains spoilers through the April 22 episode of Game of Thrones.

It was probably inevitable that whatever followed “What Is Dead May Never Die,” my favorite episode of Game of Thrones thus far, would be a bit of an emotional comedown. There’s a lot that’s interesting about “Garden of Bones,” a dark, violent episode of television that, I think it’s worth noting, is the first one this season written by a woman. But what struck me most were two sometimes-intertwined themes: the way information travels (and doesn’t) in Westeros, and the role of torture in the escalating war between the five kings.

In its adaptation, Game of Thrones has generally dropped the scenes at the beginnings and the ends of the novel when we see events briefly through the eyes of non-point of view characters. But this episode begins with one, a chatty conversation between two guardsmen about who’s the best warrior in Westeros that gradually turns into a gossipy session about one of the biggest acknowledged secrets in the realm: the affair between Loras Tyrell and Renly Baratheon. “How good can he be?” one of them jokes of Loras’s swordsmanship. “He been stabbing Renly Baratheon for years and he’s not dead.” Margaery Tyrell warned her husband last week to “save your lies for court. You’ll need a lot of them.” But apparently, word’s already out. After that guard meets an unfortunate fate at Grey Wind’s jaws, the young queen gets an interrogation at a higher level from Petyr Bealish, an envoy to Renly’s court who’s also performing the more personal errand of delivering Ned Stark’s bones to his old love, Catelyn Tully. “The marriage of a wealthy girl always breeds interest, if nothing else,” Littlefinger tells her. He may not have all the information he wants, but he can keep Margaery off-kilter by refusing to let her know precisely how much he’s aware of.

Other people are less subtle about getting information. Roose Bolton, one of Robb Stark’s bannerman, is ready to start a systematic campaign of torture in the aftermath of the battle to get as much information out of the captives as he can. “The officers will be uesful. Some of them may be privy to Tywin Lannister’s plans,” he explains to Robb. “In my family we say a naked man has few secrets. A flayed man none.” When Robb objects that “My father outlawed flaying in the north,” Roose tells him, with what we’ll come to see as characteristic coldness, “We’re not in the north…the high road’s very pretty, but you’ll have a hard time marching your armies down it.”
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