Pose

It’s hard to hold a preference for heartwarming moments over heartbreaking ones against the show, especially when its creators are motivated by a reality that’s frequently the opposite. Pose has many excesses, and that level of consideration is just among the more positive ones.

For all of its ballroom flash and diva fierceness, Pose is a sweet, touching drama about finding your family, your purpose, yourself. The number of transgender actors in the cast may have made history, but it’s the humanity of the stories they tell that is truly revolutionary.

Pose is way too entertaining to be considered an example of TV offering a diversity lesson.

Though the FX series sometimes has trouble balancing earnest kitchen-sink drama with the otherworldly flamboyance of its ’80s New York ballroom scenes and the innately didactic quality of some of its main characters’ arguments and moments of crisis, the totality hangs together quite well.

Throughout, the series runs on a kind of self-supporting enthusiasm, and is borne aloft by some extraordinary performances. ... Their [Mj Rodriguez and Indya Moore's] work here is natural and moving; they ground what's melodramatic in the writing and keep the fantastic elements in the production from swamping what's human in the story.

Through [Angel's] story and others, Pose illuminates the difference between between the genuine and illusory, outshining any imperfections that may slow down its initial episodes. Those are less noticeable than the bright dominating palette of attitude and affection propelling the drama.

Its tenderness makes up for any flaws, to the degree that I know I should tell you about the flaws, but I almost want to lie and say they aren’t there, because it carries itself with the confidence of a show that knows it’s good, and if you can’t recognize that, well, that’s your problem.

Pose struts so confidently and quickly down its narrative catwalk that you'll barely feel the time go by as characters strive to constantly reinvent themselves in a world that seems to have little use or compassion for them.

The series is not afraid of melodrama, the first four episodes suffer peak-TV bloat (at a full hour and up) and the scripts veer into the kind of speechy dialogue that comes across as read more than spoken. But the rough patches are lofted by its vitality and refusal to draw its characters in terms of tragedy.

When it soars--and it often soars--it’s the result of authenticity. It’s there in the performances of a historic cast, in the writing, in direction that feels alternately simple and intimate, then glamorous and reverent. ... If it sometimes tries just a little too hard, then those missteps are both understandable and forgivable--and maybe even a little endearing.

Since the formulaic stories emerge in a world that is so unusual and unfamiliar to most viewers, they nonetheless seem fresh. Plus, they are compensated by some strikingly original plots involving trans life.

The character-based stories grow more effective over time as viewers come to care about the characters’ love lives and hardships.

Beneath that smooth style is a gushy, sincere heart, one I’m happy to see beating at the center of a Ryan Murphy creation.

In true House of Murphy tradition, Pose is blunt and opulent, confident in its individuality and palpably eager to please. Even when it stumbles, it’s hard not to admire its electric spirit.

There's an introductory quality to the opening episodes of Pose. Murphy and his fellow creators want viewers to be immersed, but they're also mindful of those unfamiliar with the rites and rules of the ball circuit; the show anticipates many of the questions certain viewers might have. Opinions on that approach may vary, but for now it looks like a winning strategy: Pose is poignant, funny and completely accessible, whether you've been part of this community or your only point of reference is Madonna's "Vogue" video.

Pose is praiseworthy in terms of its unique diversity and overall style. The ball competitions, which are frequent, could well be a show in themselves. ... But man, Pose also can be cloying at times while also being as broad as, well, Dynasty with both its story telling and some of the acting.

Pose is less an experiment than an exuberant coming-out party for LGBT actors, one that quickly locates the heart, humanity and longing in these characters. In doing so, Murphy and company have turned material that easily could have been clichéd into a drama that proudly stands tall.

It's big, it's loud, it's unapologetic and it has an ample sense of fun. Just like the balls.

Bristle at Pose's dissonant style all you want, like the judges might during the too-few ball sequences, but recognize that Murphy's empathy is neither cheap nor self-flattering, and that it gives the series its unmistakable life.

Smart, acidly funny with a wounded glamour that belies a genuine sorrow.

Pose makes no bones about its intent to school us on a litany of issues. A few of these lectures are memorably and even poignantly written and performed (I could listen to Jackson’s Elektra tell people what’s what all the way to 1989, at least), but most of them strain with effort. It’s always been hard to convince Murphy that a little goes a long way, and viewers will have to admit that most of Pose’s weaknesses tend to vanish during the fantasitcally entertaining ballroom scenes.

The show is at its most fun when she is on the ballroom floor. I would gladly watch a whole episode devoted to her preparations for walking in a Dynasty-themed category. Pose will not deign to accommodate such frivolity, but its earnestness has its rewards.

This certainly isn't bad TV--Murphy isn't about to leave his longtime home with a turkey--but it's often bland TV, and oddly enough, stock TV.

Pose owns its shamelessness in earnest, artless yet enjoyable melodramatic stories about these societal rejects. [11 - 24 Jun 2018, p.12]

It’s a TV show from one of the most canny creators working today, yet as a viewing experience it can feel like an object lesson. ... So many of the people on Pose are strong women, trans paragons, and this comes at the expense of them being recognizably flawed human beings.