Entertainment

HBO’s ‘Ren Faire’ Is a Wild, Must-See Documentary Series

Share on facebook
Share on twitter
Share on linkedin
Share on pinterest
Share on telegram
Share on email
Share on reddit
Share on whatsapp
Share on telegram


syou might think you know what to expect from a documentary series called Ren Faire, but you are almost certainly wrong. In Fascinated and the crossword chronicle Wordplay for Trekkies and the live action RPG document Darkonthe Y2K era set the template for campy, warm-hearted nonfiction films about nerd subcultures. Ren Faire, the insightful and surprisingly moving three-part portrait of the Texas Renaissance Festival as it approaches its 50th anniversary, is not that kind of story. That’s it Successionbut with corsets and chainmail.

The series, which aired its first episode on Sunday and will air the remaining two back-to-back on June 9, finds its eccentric Logan Roy in TRF founder George Coulam. Known to his army of employees as King George, this frustrated artist idealizes Renaissance society for the way it venerated creative genius. (Not that the TRF accurately portrays the era. An American fair par excellence, it exuberantly mixes medieval Europe, Victorian England, the Scottish Highlands, the Wild West and several other times and places, with anachronisms like steampunk as well -coming.) He also couldn’t bear to feel indebted to anyone, so he incorporated his own city, guaranteeing freedom from what he calls the “dictatorship of counties and states.” For decades, George has been the sovereign of everything he oversees. But now he wants to pass on the crown; At age 86, he plans to “make art and chase women” for the nine more years of life he is manifesting for himself.

Jeff Baldwin in Ren FaireHBO

His heir apparent is Jeff Baldwin, a 43-year TRF veteran who rose to the stressful role of general manager. While George parades around in a horse-drawn carriage, soaking up the adulation of subordinates, it’s Jeff who has to deal with everything from whining employees to a local news report alleging unsafe drinking water at the festival. Calling herself Cordelia in King Lear and the Charlie to George’s Willy Wonka — but looking like a more sympathetic Kendall Roy, a little thirsty for Daddy’s love — he assures wife and co-worker Brandi, “You serve the king… and he will be benevolent.” A dramatic actor who was previously head of entertainment, Jeff is clearly happiest working with the hundreds of actors TRF employs to define its renaissance scene. His theatrical and reflective behavior makes him an ideal protagonist. But is he assertive or dynamic enough, as a manager, to trust with the future of the business?

Louie Migliaccio doesn’t think so. Nicknamed the Corn Lord because he owns the lucrative TRF popcorn empire, Jeff’s rival has only been involved with the festival for a decade or so, but he comes from a family of investors who can be persuaded to buy out George. . Louie envisions a state-of-the-art operation involving “EDM festivals, a Renaissance University, new and immersive technology – things that will elevate our game.” Only in Ren Faire Could a long-haired, leather-clad energy drink addict who likes to make up popcorn-themed parodies of pop songs play the role of corporate interloper? A more traditional leader is Louie’s hypercompetent ally, Darla Smith, who has had great success as TRF’s vendor coordinator.

Louie Migliaccio in Ren FaireHBO

Best known for his special document Some kind of heaven, which profiled the residents of the pseudo-utopian Florida retirement community The Villages, director Lance Oppenheim brings the same slightly surreal aesthetic to this project. (In between Ren FaireThe executive producers are Rough gems duo Benny and Josh Safdie, who backed last year’s notable HBO docuseries Telemarketers.) TRF may be George’s idiosyncratic take on the American dream, but for those who have attributed his aspirations to his whims, it is always threatening to turn into a nightmare. Like Logan—and like the preeminent petty, deluded, and self-centered patriarchal figure of the last decade, Donald Trump—George thrives on forcing his employees to compete for the approval he seems incredibly unlikely to grant.

Behind the colorful quirks of a man who is, for part of the series, obsessed with building “the world’s first American rococo art bathroom” is an octogenarian babe who seems incapable of trust, love, or happiness. The extent of George’s alienation, rooted in his childhood and confirmed by the ex-wife and former friends Oppenheim tracks down in interviews, is most palpable in two painfully cold first encounters that the series documents. At an Olive Garden, he meets one and then another beautiful 20-something from a sugar daddy website; the first is rejected because she doesn’t read enough, the second because she has a breast implant. He might find a more sympathetic companion if he expanded his search to older women with less transactional goals, but that’s not a compromise he’s willing to make. And so his inarticulate loneliness becomes the problem of everyone around him: the loyal Jeff, the capable Darla, the ambitious Louie. For someone like George, whose personality type is frighteningly common among today’s leaders, it’s not necessarily good to be king. But it’s even worse to be one of his subjects.



This story originally appeared on Time.com read the full story

Support fearless, independent journalism

We are not owned by a billionaire or shareholders – our readers support us. Donate any amount over $2. BNC Global Media Group is a global news organization that delivers fearless investigative journalism to discerning readers like you! Help us to continue publishing daily.

Support us just once

We accept support of any size, at any time – you name it for $2 or more.

Related

More

1 2 3 6,014

Don't Miss

“Climate change right now is a path to death”

Pope Francis says the climate crisis “has reached the point

Grand Canyon Basketball rounds out the lineup with Top 100 prospect Sammie Yeanay

Grand Canyon men’s basketball completed next season’s roster Thursday with