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Power Trip Episode 4 “Play with Me”
Even in comedy, Tatiana Maslany has never given less than 110 percent. It’s one of her strongest assets as a performer; even in audio, you never get the sense that she is not living as the character — that the character is never less than emotionally real, even if Maslany herself may not have had those exact experiences — and Jane as played by Maslany feels real, especially to someone like myself who has been in those situations, as a disabled person, without the magical powers Jane has. But Maslany also has a true artist’s eye to go for the strongest, and the truest, stories she can — yes, even in comedy. But to say this is merely comedy is to do a disservice to Power Trip‘s writing, and to Maslany’s sense of the story, because so far it ranks with her strongest work these past few years — not only plotwise, and emotionally, but also thematically.
Each episode having a command as a title, Power Trip‘s fourth, “Play with Me”, manages to thematically cover a number of its episode’s events — there’s the sense of play at the start, in interaction between Jane and the boy she’s nannying, Reau; there’s Jane’s need at the tail end of the episode for a more adult form of play when she drunkenly shows up at Bruce’s doorstep; and, for most of this episode, there’s the enjoyment of play in a warm fairground atmosphere — in this instance, Coney Island.
Mary Hamilton and Cara Horner’s writing continue to deliver a canvas strong enough for display Maslany’s (and the whole cast’s) talent for comedy, drama, and the interplay of small human moments between characters — as an artist, I know Maslany really treasures that in her work, and her executive-producing on this has probably only helped in making these moments in Power Trip truly shine. Jane deciding which of her manuscripts to send her employer Sloane (“to consider for publication”, as she commanded, in that voice with the wonderful reverse-echo SFX) by asking Sloane’s own kid which one he might prefer is really clever, and precise, writing; it shows, without needing to tell, just how long Jane’s been with this family that she knows how the mother’s tastes run from what her kids might be partial to, and Jane’s easy rapport with Reau shows that, even as she needs the job and needs the money that comes with it, it’s more than just a job, for her — this feels “lived-in” in the best way, without needing to go into detailed exposition about it. With just a few warmly delivered lines of dialogue, an entire backstory is fully and clearly conveyed.
Realm‘s Power Trip is must-listen streaming.
But that opening is merely the afternoon, and when we get to night at Coney Island, where Jane has decided to finally meet up again with the “Power Hour” group, the plot turns, after an interval, on three distinct scenes: Jane and Leah’s private conversation on the beach, Jane listening in to Deirdre and Leah’s conversation about her, and Jane’s drunken commanding of a couple to spill their guts to each other in front of everyone. The first scene has an incredible tenderness; Jane seems to be opening up to somebody else, in her own slightly awkward way, and there are clearly some difficult feelings between Jane and Leah. The deadwood Leah makes sprout (in a really lovely audio effect) into life is more than just that; it’s a representation of what might be between Leah and Jane. Sure, Jane still has difficulty trying to find the right subjects to talk about with people, wedging in her unfamiliarity with non-buttless dresses into a conversation (she’s referring to Velma Kelly and Roxie Hart from Chicago, specifically), but if you’d lived in a hospital almost constantly and loved musicals, like she had, why wouldn’t you try to fit that in? I remember my own childhood hospital stays being accompanied by VHS tapes of Space Jam, Grease, and The Mask — I’ve been in that boat, and would probably feel at about the same level of awkwardness. Jane is trying very hard, even as an outsider within this group of outsiders, to open to to these people — she’s still unsure about them, but she wants to be more sure, in a more positive way.
But the next scene involving Leah immediately makes Jane pull back from whatever opening-up she might have been doing. when she hears Erica discussing her with Leah near the ladies’ room; Erica is trying to convince Leah, having seen the two of them looking happy down at the beach, to give a potential relationship with Jane a chance, but Leah, whom you can clearly tell from her tone has been forced into this corner, admits she thinks Jane is “clearly a mess”, “too much”, and does not “want to be involved in whatever drama she manufactures next”. A massive pre-made judgment call, and for somebody already slightly tipsy and who’s just opened themselves up like Jane, the worst possible thing to overhear someone she just opened up to say. Jane’s not perfect — who is? — and she reacts like any human being would when hurt.
But, then, not any human being has magical powers. Which brings up to the third scene on which the night turns, where Jane, having commanded several people to give her their beers, and between scenes has probably commanded several more to give several more, returns to the group and drunkenly displays her powers in front of the group — seemingly to hurt Leah for having said what she said when she thought Jane wasn’t around — to cause a couple strolling by to tell each other how they really feel about each other, thus making them break up. Jane’s drunken misery dearly wants company, and her command gets her what she wants — that control, causing someone else to feel something of the pain she has, because that is all she really wants in that moment.
Now, there are some very human motivations going on, here — I would not be surprised if Leah felt pressured into making that judgment about Jane, and that she really does feel more warmly towards her than Jane supposes. But if Leah feels she can’t say that, and doesn’t, and felt she had to declaim about Jane in front of Erica, and Jane doesn’t realize that, having been hurt… well, you don’t really need magical powers to know just how true to people all those hidden and up-front emotions are. Just because a series contains magic doesn’t mean it doesn’t also contain truth. Strong writing like this shows how strong is really is when it still makes sense as people being people when you put aside the magical component.
Kailynn West’s direction gives, along with the actors’ performances, such distinctness to each member of the “Power Hour” group that not only are you never unsure of which character is speaking, you’re also able to exactly follow their motivations and emotions — something I’m sure some actors might struggle with trying to depict in an audio-only format, but not this cast. When Christian, after prompting from Jane, finally realizes his feelings for Mateo offscreen, we can hear the difference in his voice between his appearances — he sounds happier, more fulfilled. In a similar way, the sudden realization that Jane’s paramour Bruce has been dulled by Jane’s most recent command — a realization set up in previous episodes entirely through Brendan Hines’s performance, evident to the listener but seemingly unnoticed by Jane — hits Jane, along with us, with a crash despite not, on the face of it, seeming dramatic because we have heard a difference in his voice, and his manner, and Jane realizing something might be wrong coinciding with her reflecting on the “mess” diagnosis feels like a turning-point for the series precisely because it is played so well by Hines, Maslany, and the rest of the cast. It’s a tough balance not to have the comedy tonally conflict with the drama, and vice versa, but Power Trip has not played wrongly on that yet, and it’s a sign of a strong series.
Once again, the sound design by Tom Maggs and Rory O’Shea, sound mix by Rory O’Shea, and additional sound editing by Corey Barton, continue to bowl me over — it’s some of the most convincingly immersive I think I’ve ever heard in an audio show. As I’ve never had the opportunity to visit the actual Coney Island myself, I can only imagine how it must compare to the sonic representation of it here — but if it’s anything close, it must be magical. The soundscape immerses one into the location; you can picture in your mind the rides clattering and Jane’s cane tapping along the boardwalk as you hear it, and every sound and line of dialogue is clear enough (even for someone like myself with hearing difficulties) that, even when a character is far in the distance from another one, you’re able to follow along with absolutely no difficulty. Certain sonic effects, as well, really help to make the big moments register without needing to be overbearing — the Coney Island soundscape suddenly drops out while Jane is overhearing Leah and Erica, and so the dialogue between them is, just by being abruptly apart from the previously ever-present fairground noise, able to impact us just as hard as it does Jane. The audio work and the writing, working in tandem, deliver the goods as I don’t think many others can.
And, once again, I really do have to thank Realm for going the extra mile by providing the scripts for each episode — not only does it provide a way for people to be able to more easily follow along, if they need to, but it’s also a way to get extra nuggets of fun out of the story, such as the reveal that Sloane’s son is “Thoreau”, being “Reau” for short; a publisher naming her kid after the author of Walden Pond is too good a bit to be missed out on by skipping the script. It’s not something you need to know to be able to follow the story, but it just adds enjoyment — and there’s even more stuff like that in the scripts if you give them a read, too.
If you’ve been listening along with me, I hope you’re getting as much out of this series as I have. If you haven’t managed to start Power Trip yet, I strongly urge you to do so — the entire series is now currently available to stream now with a Realm Unlimited subscription, but the next two episodes will also be made free to non-subscribers next week and the week after. (I’d recommend the subscription, if you’d prefer to binge.) Either way, I feel this show is really too good for any of my review readers to be missing out on.
Power Trip is available on Realm.fm, or wherever you listen to podcasts.
I’ll be back next week for Episode 5, “Don’t Blame Me”.
This has been the review for Power Trip Episode 4.
Power Trip Episode 3 “Buy Me A Drink”
Control: It’s something you very rarely have when you’re disabled. Whether it’s control over your own body, control over your own finances, or control over the exact trajectory of your life — there are a lot of things you just can’t help but not control. Autonomy is not easily granted, or given, and when people make assumptions about you based on that disability, or something else beyond your own control, even if they get to know you, it becomes very hard to live those assumptions down. There are times you think you might need a rewind button just to patch things up to where you want them.
Fortunately for Jane in “Buy Me A Drink”, her power to command becomes exactly that.
Realm‘s Power Trip is must-listen streaming!
The title of Power Trip‘s third episode links three of its vignettes dramatically; the first being Jane’s first official date with Bruce, the second being a narrowly-averted disaster at a coffee shop, and the third being a too-late remembrance of a tipsy online espresso machine purchase. But the third technically is covered by what comes next: An awkward encounter with Jane’s current employer — whom Jane soon finds out has decided to become, without telling her, her ex-employer.
In all these situations, Jane would normally be at a disadvantage; her awkward humor doesn’t gel well with Bruce, the shop’s cash register is being tended to by a trainee employee who won’t let her take an already-made latte without proper payment, and her longtime employer, having basically overlooked her and taken her for granted her entire period of employment, would rather cut her lose than deal with her disability honestly.
So, what’s a body to do? Well, Jane being Jane, she rewinds the conversation she’d been having with Bruce and plays to his deep, deep sincerity. Brendan Hines brings a really sweet, well-meaning sensitive fellow to life, to the point where you feel a bit bad that Jane is trying to keep him via her power. Bruce understands something of her predicament, having had a cousin who needed a kidney transplant, but his gentleness only goes so far when up against Jane’s cynicism; she’s never had this opportunity before, and is desperately trying not to lose such an obvious catch. A shared appreciation of The Sound of Music doesn’t necessarily translate to a connection across all things, but Jane rewinds the conversation again and again, matches Bruce’s sincerity, and finds a better ending to her night than she might’ve without her powers.
The second vignette requires a little more boldness, with Jane making the trainee give her a latte on the house and the trainee’s strident supervisor treat the trainee a little more nicely, in the middle of a busy coffee shop, and the third is an unintentional moment of necessity: Jane needs the money her employer, Sloane, would give her to continue being the nanny for her children after having depleted her savings on that espresso machine. She feels burned because of having been ghosted out of the job, but the money (and commanding Sloane, a publisher, to finally read one of her stories for publication) makes using her power too strong an incentive to pass up.
What continues to impress me about this show is that it feels lived-in; it feels authentic; it feels like actual life. Even though the plot hinges on the magical power bestowed by a kidney transplant, as somebody who’s disabled, as somebody who’s been in and out of hospitals since I was born, as somebody who’s had to struggle with to be acknowledged, to be valued in life, the things Jane goes through I can relate to practically on the molecular level; not just the specific situations, but the feelings, the frustrations, and the (if you don’t have a social group, as Jane has not had up until this point, to reach out to) the isolation and the other-ing that having a disability brings. People make assumptions; people read you wrongly, or make decisions for what they think is your own benefit without even consulting you. that people think they can impose themselves, their own readings of you, on you and on your personhood.
But the thing that most impresses me is that Jane isn’t herself the “model” type of person with a disability. That’s important. She isn’t a plaster saint; she’s imperfect, she makes mistakes, she’s human. She can misread a social situation like anyone else, and then desperately have to backpedal on what she’s said; she’s wary around others, naturally an outsider, and when she feels she wants something, she goes for that thing, whether it’s love, a latte, or an espresso machine. A person being represented doesn’t have to necessarily be the best, the most perfect person in order to be good representation. They just have to be human, and Jane is exactly that. Maslany as Jane doesn’t feel like acting; she feels lived-in, as though this is who she’s been her whole life. So much of her awkward humor and desire to just have some semblance of autonomy in her life resonates with me; I’ve been there. Sometimes you just want to open up a screaming goat video on the middle of a date and hope the other person appreciates it.
I really have to commend Mary Hamilton and Cara Horner, the writers of this show; they nail the tone, they nail the details, and Jane’s never not relatable even when she may be doing something ethically dubious. So much rings true to me that I know they’ve put the research in before writing this, and the grounding only enhances the realism of the comedy in this podcast, even as the plot is being driven by magical powers; there’s nothing implausible about people’s actions in this. The script (which Realm has made available to be read on their website along with the podcast audio itself) provides a wealth of further description and detail that, if you’re like me and are a bit harder of hearing, you can’t really do without (and, again, Realm providing their scripts for free to read is so rarely done with podcasts that I salute them for doing this, here). The sound design — by Tom Maggs and Rory O’Shea, mixed by Rory O’Shea, and with additional sound editing by Corey Barton — is immersive, but with every necessary sound and word of dialogue clear to understand. The internal voiceover and external dialogue never have to fight to be heard over each other; each can be distinctly heard, even if you’re harder of hearing like myself — and I can’t not keep giving props to that reverse echo effect on the “command” powers; I really love that. Kailynn West’s direction of the cast is superb, and the main players for this week — Maslany, Hines, and Lisa Loeb among them — don’t miss a beat; Hines, in particular, shines here in the date scene.
I have a feeling this show will continue going from strength to strength from episode to episode — but it’s also so much fun that I really hope people listen to it week to week (or, if you’d prefer to binge it all at once, get a Realm Unlimited subscription, as I did). I appreciate the representation, I appreciate the obvious love and craft put into this show, but most of all, I’m really looking forward to what comes next — a trip to Coney Island? Count me in.
Power Trip is available on Realm.fm, or wherever you listen to podcasts.
I’ll see you next week for Episode 4, “Play with Me”.
This has been the review for Power Trip Episode 3.
Power Trip Episode 1 “Love Me”/Episode 2 “Listen to Me”
Life with a disability is tough. There is no getting around that. Whether it’s physical or mental; whether you need a cane to get around or a wheelchair, whether you’re in constant pain or merely intermittent that comes up at the worst possible times, society is not built to accommodate people with disabilities. People don’t listen to you when you try to tell them your concerns; people maybe glance over you, or take pains to be courteous but don’t actually engage with you as a person. I’m disabled myself — cerebral palsy since birth — so this is life, every day, for me.
Realm‘s Power Trip is must-listen streaming!
But what if you could get them to do that? What if people couldn’t not listen to you when you told them to listen to you when you tell them you know the way to your own apartment, or stop a train you’re desperately trying to catch because everybody able-bodied has been able to get on it quickly and you haven’t? What if you finally had some measure of control — of self-autonomy — over your life and body? Being disabled, what then, finally given a boost up to be able to deal on a more-equal footing with the non-disabled, would you be able to do?
Power Trip, a new podcast from Realm, takes you into the mind — quite literally, in fact — of a young woman who’s now able to do just that. Jane has had end-stage kidney disease from childhood, and is so used to having to navigate the world with the disadvantages of being a disabled person that suddenly receiving a metaphorical leg-up comes almost as a shock to her whole identity.
She has just received a new kidney on the black market — the dark web, to be precise — and with that kidney comes the magical power to command — to command people to do what she asks them to do, when she asks them.
In real life, obviously, there is no such magic inherent within a kidney, but this show’s introduction of the use of powers (and not just Jane’s) allows a heightened depiction of a reality that’s all too common to people with disabilities — and the possibilities that come to a disabled person when you give them just a sprig of magic.
Jane is played by Tatiana Maslany, the Emmy-winning star of Orphan Black (which, if you haven’t seen, see it now); Maslany also executive-produces the show, and so a lot of her own creative talent (and improv background) registers strongly in Jane’s POV and the fleshing-out of characters around Jane, from the depiction of a date night going sideways to unforeseen circumstances and a hedge-fund bro at a bar, to a familiar feeling of kinship with outsiders (reminiscent of Orphan Black) as Jane joins a group of fellow black-market organ receivers who now also have powers — and Jane is still wary of the group, at first, being someone who naturally keeps to herself.
The only person she reliably spills to is us, the audience, as we hear her stream of consciousness tell how she’s actually feeling about the situations and people she bumps into. It’s an interesting twist on the audiobook format that Realm is known for — particularly since the text of this series is formatted in script-form rather than prose form; no “he said”, “she said”, and other descriptions of action, allowing the dialogue and situations to flow naturally in between Jane’s mental parenthetical comments.
Maslany’s Jane is such a strong personality that she takes you right along with her without you even thinking twice about prose descriptions — seemingly let loose from the life she’s led beforehand, she’s become a force of nature; her cynicism and low expectations of where she’s going in life broaden into a confidence in her abilities and a desire to see that she gets what she wants out of life.
Power Trip Episode 1: “Love Me”, introduces us to Jane’s situation an to her love life, particularly the beginning of her relationship (slightly encouraged by her power) with a man named Bruce, voiced by Maslany’s real-life partner Brendan Hines. Bruce is a blind date of Jane’s who doesn’t show for the date despite living four floors up (and Jane subsequently has to trudge up all four floors, with a cane, in order to reach his apartment), leading to an awkward assignation that Jane resolves (for the moment, to her favor) with magic.
Following Power Trip Episode 1 is the second episode, “Listen to Me”. This one introduces Jane (via a chatbot DM) to the “Power Hour” support group for people in the same magical situation she’s in; these include Christian, who has the power to become almost invisible when he’s uncomfortable, Mateo, who has the ability to (almost accurately) predict the future, and Leah, who has the power to make plants thrive with her magic.
Everyone except Jane, however, is able-bodied, and so Jane already feels at something of a distance from this new group; even if they all have something in common, Jane’s own life experience makes her uneasy going in, much less trying to open up to them. Further episodes introduce Jane’s mother, played by Grammy-winner Lisa Loeb, who has worked as Jane’s carer practically Jane’s whole life — but from whom Jane desperately wants independence and autonomy, as so many real people with disabilities do — I know that feeling (and situation) all too well.
The depiction of a disability rings nothing less than true to me; I’ve lived so much of what’s depicted in the show, even if I don’t have a magic kidney — people ignoring what you need, trains and buses not stopping or being unable to accommodate to you, locations being incredibly difficult to access due to being designed entirely for the non-disabled.
All of it is exactly as I’ve experienced, right down to Jane’s cane, customized to be bedazzled like a disco ball — I don’t own a bedazzled cane myself (nor even a bedazzled wheelchair), but I do know someone who does. Representation is particularly important for marginalized folks, whether they be LBTQ+, Black, Asian, First Nations, or the disabled — and as a disabled person, I really appreciate this depiction.
I know Maslany cares deeply about using her platform to lift up voices who might not have that opportunity, or ability, to be heard for themselves, and she does that again here, admirably.
What I appreciate most is that, above all else, Maslany’s Jane is human — not flawless, not a marble statue representation of a person with a disability; she’s a real person, magic kidney or no magic kidney, who has bad nights, awkward dates, and tough, hungover mornings just like everybody else — and, despite her foibles, and despite all the guff she has to put up with in her life, she knows exactly what she wants to do with it and how she wants to achieve it.
That’s the life of any disabled person (barring, of course, magic powers) — and I’d say it’s high time it got properly depicted.
This is the second podcast that Tatiana Maslany has been involved with for Realm, the first being the audiobook continuation of Orphan Black in Orphan Black: The Next Chapter, two seasons of which have been produced; the first featured Maslany portraying every character, the second brought back much of the original cast of Orphan Black to reprise their roles.
Similarly to Next Chapter‘s second season, Power Trip also features a full cast portraying its characters, with Maslany, Hines, and Loeb being just its first three-billed members, and the whole cast absolutely shines on audio. Power Trip‘s writing, by Mary Hamilton with additional writing by Cara Horner, is just as strong as Orphan Black‘s, with a slightly-less-dramatic, more comedic edge, but with no-less compelling and fully-realized characters, and the direction, by Kailynn West, makes the most of the audio format for its actors; there’s never moment that flags for a listener.
The sound design, in particular, is remarkable — there’s a very clever use of reverse-echo to depict Jane’s power to command, and it’s never unclear whether Jane is thinking something to herself or speaking it out loud. I am hard of hearing, myself, and need hearing aids, so clarity and differentiation between voices is essential for someone like me to be able to follow, but I had absolutely no difficulty — and, what’s more, for those unable to listen to the audio, full scripts are provided to be able to read, featuring stage direction and character description.
Not every audio company provides the scripts of their work to read, much less for free with each episode, so I really appreciate Realm taking the time and effort of doing it.
This is the first podcast we’ll be reviewing at AndersonVision; we’ll be posting weekly reviews of this series until the end of the season, as episodes release for free to the public every Thursday, but subscribers to Realm Unlimited get access to the whole series all at once, so if you’d prefer to binge, rather than wait weekly, I suggest you subscribe.
Each episode runs to between 20 and 30 minutes, so binging the first two (if you want to get the whole effect of my review here) produces nearly an hour of top-notch content.
Power Trip is available on Realm.fm, or wherever you listen to podcasts.
I’ll be back early next week with Episode 3 of Power Trip: “Buy Me A Drink”.
This has been the reviews for Power Trip Episodes 1 and 2.
The Anderson Tapes: Chapter 7 – Oscarbaiting
CLICK HERE TO LISTEN TO THE PODCAST OVER AT BRAIN DEAD RADIO!
Troy and Rob discuss how to gamble with the Oscars and win.
Rob doesn’t understand how the Oscars work so Troy tries to explain it as best as he can. Upsets, action stars, and racism are all a part of this magical night.
Make sure to check out AndersonVision for all of your Anderson needs!
The Anderson Tapes Chapter 5: The Human Ashtray
CLICK HERE TO LISTEN TO IT AT BRAIN DEAD RADIO
Anderson and Rob are back to continue the ridiculousness with another hour of “entertainment”. The duo discuss the legacy of Chris Farley, Kevin Smith’s shtick, where the hate for Brett Ratner comes from, and Rob is somehow able to bring up dwarf sex in the middle of all of this. Cinematic pricks, the grandpa from Angus, and an alternate Alien 3 movie spurs on even more conversation.
Rob can’t hate on Wil Wheaton, they both hate on Chris Hardwick, and Anderson and Rob both love Michael Keaton. A young Anderson has an interesting encounter with Chris Claremont, Rob’s Cenobite form would be terrifying, and Anderson discusses “The Human Ashtray” while Rob brings up iCarly.