It’s summer and that usually means catching up on important things like “dissertation research,” “World Cup,” and, of course, “television.” One of the undeniable pleasures of Beijing is exchanging a few kuai with the local DVD salesman and walking away with two or three complete seasons of trash television.
Of late, I’ve been really into a show called “Sons of Anarchy.” It’s a kind of evolutionary “Sopranos.” Both deal with organized crime (Mafia/outlaw motorcycle gangs) mixed with suburban banality and a fair dose of very dark humor. (The Sons’ ‘Paulie Walnuts’ is an out of control psychopath who waxes lyrical about necrophilia while removing the teeth from a soon to be identified corpse in the local morgue.) As you might imagine, it’s a tough show to watch and while it is a well-written and brilliantly acted series, the violence is enough to make the boys from the Bada Bing seem like Carmelite nuns. (Check out a video clip here.)
For example, in the third episode of season one a former member returns to town and is seen still sporting a tatoo with the club’s emblem. The solution? You guessed it, a ten-minute musical montage showing the club pouring whiskey down the