Fresh off the Boat by Eddie Huang

ABC's Fresh off the Boat is the first show about an Asian American family since Margaret Cho's All-American Girl from the mid-90s. The earlier show gets a nod when the Huang family is watching it in their season finale. Overall, Fresh is a cleverly funny show that deals with the struggles of the Huang family to fit in with American culture. However, being on a broadcast network like ABC prevents it from being as direct and biting as Eddie Huang's memoir of the same name.

Huang himself narrates each episode, a tactic comparable to The Wonder Years but maybe closer in tone to Everybody Hates Chris, for which Chris Rock narrated stories based on his own childhood. Eddie Huang is a unique personality, proclaiming himself a "rotten banana" because of the way he relates to hip-hop music and black culture. He always felt ostracized in school for being Asian and for eating "stinky" Chinese food for lunch, and ever since hearing Dr. Dre's album The Chronic, he has felt affinity for the struggles expressed in rap. Huang never shies from discussing racism and stereotypes; after all, his title is a phrase commonly used derogatorily toward immigrants.

The TV series focuses on Eddie at the age of 12, when he and his family have just moved from DC's Chinatown to Orlando, Florida, when his father Louis wanted to open a restaurant. Of course the book has a much longer view of his life, reaching to the present day when Eddie opened his own eatery. What the show captures well from the book is Eddie's preoccupation with being cool, from getting the latest music and shoes (Jordans) to wanting his mother to pack more American food for his lunches. But of course the series, being an ongoing sitcom, has to flesh out the rest of the family and include more humor, which is where it strays from Eddie's real life/memoir.

In Fresh off the Boat the book, there are details like the physical abuse Eddie sustained from his father, which will certainly never be depicted on ABC. I cannot see the network allowing a "very special episode" involving Randall Park's Louis beating his son, on a show that is mainly focused on comedy, as much as Eddie Huang may want to see that topic addressed.* It is readily apparent that the show was created by the same woman who helmed the off-the-wall Don't Trust the B---- in Apartment 23.

This is another book that I feel benefits from hearing the audiobook, read by the author, if you can get your hands on it. Since the slang-and-metaphor-heavy prose is very much written in Eddie's "voice", hearing his actual voice helps to understand his intended meaning, as well as getting the proper pronunciations for the sprinklings of Chinese. Although he dabbled in standup comedy, it's clear that he was always meant to become a chef, since his strongest memories are tied to food, and his descriptions of meals are as evocative as any Michael Pollan book. His is a unique and compelling point of view, and even if the show waters down the events of his life, it's worth watching for a perspective that is underrepresented by the media as a whole.

To buy the book, related merchandise, or to learn more about Eddie Huang himself, check out the website for his Manhattan restaurant BaoHaus.

*Eddie Huang Gives 'Fresh Off the Boat' a "B"; Pushes for Domestic Violence Arc

House of Cards

How seriously is one supposed to take House of Cards? It has the look and prestige of esteemed dramas like Mad Men, but often goes into wild flights of melodrama and plot twists more akin to Scandal. If you stop to examine the intricate plans that Frank Underwood puts in to motion, you'll see the seams of implausibility. I have decided the first two seasons have been available long enough to consider spoilers fair game, but I will tread lightly when it comes to the newest batch.

When it premiered on Netflix a couple years ago, it was notable for being the first runaway success of the burgeoning business of content that was exclusive to streaming service. It seemed like a revolution in obligatory binge-watching, as if the best way to consume 13 hours of new content was all in one weekend so you wouldn't be the only one not talking about it on Monday. When I started the first season of House of Cards, it kind of felt like homework viewing, compelling in a way but still like the vegetable of TV shows. I didn't watch past the first 5 episodes at first. Then Liz became interested in watching all of it, so we started together where I had left off, in anticipation of last year's premiere of the second season. Which we also watched in only a few, glazed-eyed sittings. We were intrigued by the devious plotting by Frank Underwood, and by the showrunners in the larger worldbuilding sense.

When Frank builds up Peter Russo as a viable candidate in the first season, only to kill him off in the season finale, it was deliciously shocking. Then when the second season starts off with the equally shocking pushing of Zoe Barnes onto the tracks (in a blatantly fictitious Metro station), I had assumed that the rest of that season would deal with Frank having to dodge the investigations into those bodies. But soon there was nobody left who knew anything who would be disloyal, so Frank simply got away with both murders. The only loose thread was Rachel the former whore, and Doug Stamper being assigned to keep her quiet led to a pointless C-plot that got way too much focus. The saga of Doug and Rachel was so tangentially related to the Underwoods that it might as well have been a spinoff, but nobody would have cared enough to watch that show.

So this brings us to the third season, which doubles down on the interpersonal relationships, leaving the political manipulation (that had seemed like the main point of the show) as a secondary focus. It also brings back a relationship that most viewers thought was over with. This seems to have been done only because the writers knew it would defy expectations, not because they thought of anything interesting to do with that plot. And another beloved side character shows up for barely a cameo, so that seems unbalanced.

Frank and Claire have everything they ever worked for now, as President and First Lady, and with nowhere to go but down, it's just not as fun to watch Frank move people around like chess pieces. With the new job plan he wants to enact, it seems like he actually wants to do something good for the country, and though it's self-serving to do so for his legacy, he is no longer the power-hungry bastard that we have gotten to love to hate. There is a thinly veiled analog for Vladimir Putin who seems to present a viable opponent for Frank, but even he becomes declawed a bit halfway through. And don't get me started on the author who Frank hires to write a book about the America Works project, because nothing about that plotline makes any sense.

Occasionally the third season has its share of worthwhile moments, but overall, we were not left with any positive anticipation for whatever comes in the following season. There is a lot of buildup toward the coming primaries and the rest of the election cycle, but it all ends in a whimper. Although I have to admit, the fact that Liz and I were still discussing the weakest aspects of the season a few weeks later shows that Beau Willimon and company at least kept things memorable, if not compelling.

House of Cards is of course always streaming on Netflix, and the first two seasons are available on DVD.