Tim responds to the AMA: Ask Me Anything questions that first appeared here:AMA This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timgoodman.substack.com/subscribe

Well, I was definitely wrong thinking one of these was the episode I didn’t like. That’s what happens with a fuzzy brain. Instead, these were another two strong episodes and, I would argue, “Goodbye My Damaged Home” is among the best overall. I detailed most of my thoughts about these episodes, particularly Ep. 7, in the audio segment above, but here are some things I noticed and will touch on quickly.In these episodes we got a lot to mull over with not a lot to scratch our heads over or be disappointed by, and that’s an easy win for an episode (or two). In Ep. 6, matching Young Kirsten and Grown Up Kirsten calling out for young/old Alex was inspired. A little more backstory about Gil (David Cross) and Pingtree and how Kirsten learned to care for Alex the way that Jeevan cared for here was also instructive.Less thrilling was adult Kirsten doing that thing we all hate when TV shows depict it — running off alone, headlong into danger. Simultaneously, Sarah and the rest of the Traveling Symphony stumbling around in the rain (like it was acid rain or something) and then falling into the hands of Brian from the Museum of Civilization — with a gun this time — was also fairly strained. I understand that pieces had to be moved into place, but the show has been more deft about it until this episode. Still, we did get more of The Prophet, and I do think Daniel Zovatto is excellent, a magnetic presence every time he’s on screen. Kirsten’s interpretation of the “spaceman”/spaceperson as being trapped in a time loop adds a little bit of information. There was action, too, though your mileage may vary on the final battle with the four Bandanas (formerly Red Bandanas aka meth heads) and how Kirsten killed them all before getting woozy from the blow darts. Hmmmm. Well, I still think it was a strong episode but that scene wasn’t may favorite (I think, oddly, that I disliked this episode more initially than on a second viewing — and no, it’s not the one coming up which I really don’t like). There was, I think, a subtle distribution of information in this episode that was easy to overlook on a single viewing.B*****d Machine is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.It also set up a truly great episode in Ep. 7, “Goodbye My Damaged Home,” which I talk a lot about in the audio portion, including my lust for Frank’s apartment (which he could never afford on a journalist’s wages, Vanity Fair assignment or not…I mean, if I had to die in an apartment, a concrete and glass modernist gem wouldn’t be so bad, I think). I loved all the creative decisions, from Kirsten walking through the door in the woods to Frank rapping out “Excursions” from A Tribe Called Quest. This was essentially Frank’s backstory episode and it proved even stronger on a second viewing. It’s a small thing, but finding out that Siya had told Jeevan that after 60 days it was time to go — that was a big detail I had missed. The nuance there — that the virus was likely over and the window for escaping before the living start turning on each other — was very smart and telling. And easily missed, apparently.I even noticed the return of the strawberry Yoo-Hoo in this episode. I guess they really were getting down to the dregs of the food.Again, I said enough in the audio portion at the top, but I’ll reiterate this: The emotional impact of doing the play, knowing that Frank had made his decision and that he got to say, “This strange and awful time was the happiest of my life,” and “You’re the only friend I’ve ever had,” made so much come together. Jeevan refusing to say his line because he didn’t want to say goodbye was also lovely, right before the intruder came in .As for the intruder, sure, you could say, in an episode where we find out only 1 in 1000 live, how does this guy come into this exact apartment, but I don’t care. I was all-in on that choice. I think that’s exactly the introduction of evil/the outside world that was needed and I was there for it.OK, I’m guessing this week’s comments will be good. Have at it. A quick reminder: As this week illustrated, with me offering up two new Box Set candidates (or, if you’re not planning on joining us, then just a couple of hopefully useful (Re)View posts), there will be an ongoing set of shows to deconstruct and discuss together. Or just learn about. I’m certainly not convinced that the tent is anywhere near full, so if you have TV loving friends, you can always tell them about this Substack and that plenty of shows will be upcoming, so there’s still time to jump on the bandwagon. That helps keep it going and I’m appreciative of anyone spreading the word. This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timgoodman.substack.com/subscribe

We did it! We got through one! Wooot.Of course, all we did was watch TV and talk about it, but if the pandemic has taught us anything, the little pleasures in life are important. So, we did good.The question is, did “Collateral” do good — that is, did it meet your needs and expectations (which, come to think of it, might be different things).They are certainly different things to different people and I ended up being reminded, as I noted in the podcast preamble above, precisely why I really liked this series when it premiered. I thought, for the most part, that writer Sir David Hare and director SJ Clarkson stuck the landing, which is no easy feat in a jam-packed four episode thriller that bites off a lot of ambition. I’m also willing to say that while I love the mini-miniseries, perhaps four episodes is not ideal. It’s a short story, as most television series are (although they are novels compared to films, so maybe I should adapt that theory), but four is a very short story indeed. It comes with clear drawbacks and for me those were in the forced storytelling, the need for a little too much exposition and, arguably, how a show finds itself as it grows.I noted that the second episode was the weakest, a set-up for things to come and, indeed, the third episode was much better and then, to a lot of people’s great worry here at The Box Set, episode three also got ambitious pushing the story out and folks were left to wonder if one more episode and about an hour was enough time to wrap things up in a satisfactory manner.And, as I suggested in the subhead at the top, that will be determined by your personal preferences. I like things a little messy, like life, and I embrace ambiguity. Not everybody does. And being completely transparent, I find ambiguity extremely annoying in series where we’re looking at multiple crazy mysteries, ala “Lost,” and the answers never come because maybe they didn’t have the answers in the first place, as opposed to the answer is “this life just keeps on living and we don’t know what happens,” or “the window on this world is going to slowly shut and you’ll be left to guess at how it all goes on.” Which I’m fine with. I don’t like “there’s a monster in the woods!” and then 65 episodes later we don’t have an answer to why, much less a glimpse of the monster.B*****d Machine is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.So, for me, characters not being held accountable for their actions — getting away with it, if you will — works just fine here. The closing of a window on Kip’s life — I’m fine with that, too. Finding conclusions and explanations is tricky though. I’m not sure David’s storyline worked at all. His relationship with Karen, etc. — he was mostly there as someone who could critique the actions of the government from within and that’s more convenient than interesting. (That said, I loved that David’s last name is Mars, which just seems too much of a coincidence to not be a reference to “Life On Mars,” the brilliant series that John Simm, the actor who plays David, did previously). David did however, have a hand in the Jane story, where she chooses church over love (probably because she got Laurie’s letter about how important it was to Laurie to talk to a priest; that it meant something, that Jane is needed in the community). Your mileage may vary, as we say, so let’s hear your thoughts below. I did want to mention that I’m glad we did a shorter series and we were able to talk about story and structure in particular, which is tricky in this form (while the greater joy is that you’re in and you’re out, you’re entertained or your interest is piqued, all in four relatively short episodes). So that was good to discuss. Looking forward to future choices for The Box Set. This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timgoodman.substack.com/subscribe

There is no before. We aren’t doing solo episodes anymore on the Box Set. We did, but there is no before. So we’re not. There’s only the now. The first rule of The Box Set TV Club is to not…mention old rules.OK, you get it. I think we switched to the two-episode format at just the right time, yes? As I mentioned in the podcast preamble, we were already coming off a stellar episode three (“Hurricane,”) and now, with “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Aren’t Dead,” and “The Severn City Airport” we get another two strong, story-important episodes where we got a little bit of everything and every one.Key here is probably The Prophet, who is set up with that moniker in Ep. 4, the reveal being “hey, we know what that weird guy’s name is who Kirsten stabbed.” One episode later, we are shown, in dramatic fashion, that The Prophet is the grown up Tyler, son of Arthur and Elizabeth. Tyler also has Uncle Clark in his past, but boy does that go sideways — not altogether convincingly, as I mention in the podcast notes. But we’ll get to that.B*****d Machine is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.To watch Young Kirsten come out of the woods in the snow and morph into Kirsten as we know her now, it’s a nice little effect, and it continues with a few other characters, including a brief appearance by the spaceperson, who this time is seen, in a twist, by Young Kirsten. Jeevan is there (and then, ominously, he’s not). Hell, we even get to meet the Traveling Symphony’s flamboyant and intriguing former director, played wonderfully by David Cross. Watch out for the mines. We moved them. Indeed.The evolution of Tyler to The Prophet will be interesting to witness, and he was quite a different iteration in the novel, I’m told. But since we’re only concerned with what’s happening on the small screen, I would say that my lone real disappointment is the devious rise of Clark — he’s finally got his lead role — to something I’m not entirely sure we saw come to life as Day 100 dawns in the airport. His angry tirade about Arthur, Elizabeth and Tyler seems a little out of place or forced, and saying that Tyler is a destructive force? Well, we haven’t really seen that. He’s an odd kid, sure. But his dad died of a heart attack and the world is ending, so he’s got his reasons to be sullen. And, if anything, it was Tyler’s empathy, saying that the lone survivor on the plane had to be flu resistant, which means more people are likely alive and out there, which appears to be his defining trait. Destroyer? Yeah, I’m not seeing that. Granted, he looks to be pretty devious as a grown up, but Clark’s painting of him (and Elizabeth) seems a bit much. (That said, Clark has always had that put-upon underachiever status about him and we’ve seen that he doesn’t think it’s fair and he won’t let it go. So, sure, there’s a progression to his current status, but it seems like we skipped a few key steps in what we actually saw.But that’s minor. I’ve really loved four of the five episodes so far and that’s a pretty great winning percentage at the halfway point. Can’t wait to hear your thoughts. This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timgoodman.substack.com/subscribe

Quick note to Box Set viewers: While it won’t concern those who are only currently watching (and commenting on) “Collateral,” because there’s only one episode left, I wanted to point out to those who may not be following “Station Eleven” where the longer announcement was made, that in the future for Box Set shows we will primarily be watching in two-episode per week patterns. That allows a deeper dive into character and plotting. Well, that’s better.I pretty clearly wasn’t enthralled with last week’s episode, but I did point out what is more clear now: That episode was just moving the pieces around for this endgame that is developed in Ep. 3. In turn, Ep. 3 was allowed to have less housekeeping duties and to just tell its story.And there was a bit of a surprise here as Berna, an undercover MI5 agent comes out of the shadows as someone who is A) In play thanks to Sam Spence, the other MI5 agent everyone loves to hate and B) She’s close to nailing Westbourne, the Pimlico Travel head who is clearly now at the forefront of this smuggling operation. If you pause to think, of course, you can see some problematic issues ahead in this turn of events (and I don’t mean negative storytelling problems; I mean, can the center hold and what are the motivations, which are good things to consider as a viewer).We also know more now about Sandrine and her issues, which I think are at least partly cleverly presented as mental health issues (she’s seeing the Golfing Shrink, after all), but are probably closer to this: She’s a xenophobe, straight up. And, at this juncture (in fairness I’ll say I can’t recall the finale clearly enough to pretend to be prescient), I would say the motivation for the sexual harassment storyline seems to be…to make viewers think that her issues are elsewhere. Rather than present her as a straight up racist/xenophobe. We also got to see more of Karen Mars, aka Mother of the Year, in a storyline that MUST have something truly dynamic coming because, well, it would just be ponderous without it. I mean, she’s a terrible mom and he’s ALSO a terrible dad and the girl is unloved and it’s a mystery why the French au pair is even still hanging about. At this point, this storyline is only giving me humor. But I think we can all agree that’s a distraction before something bigger.OK, have at it in the comments. I do think the episode was more propulsive and, even then, I thought, “well, there’s quite a LOT to wrap up in the finale.” Right? There’s a number of dangling threads. This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timgoodman.substack.com/subscribe

Important note before we start: After this third episode discussion, we will be doing two episodes at a time to speed things up a bit and I think that also allows us to go a little deeper with our discussion, because more dots are connected with more episodes. So, next week, Ep. 4 and 5, and so on. But this week, Ep. 3 only, so please keep that in mind when commenting.Done right, the out-of-nowhere backstory type dramatic change-up is especially effective. For all its flaws — some of them wonderful flaws — an argument can be made that the best parts of “Lost” where the flashbacks (and flash-forwards!) that gave the audience so much food for thought and bonding time with the characters.In “Station Eleven,” Miranda gets the first big, important backstory and, wow, is it a knockout and a table-setter. She’s central to the series, of course, because she wrote the fictional book at the center. Going back to her past — first in 2005 and then 2020 — plenty is revealed and it immediately rejiggers the narrative in compelling fashion. Last episode, we spent plenty of time in the future, with a little bit of time in the present. Getting an entire episode set in the past, particularly one with this importance, is just solid plotting. There is also something, as many readers have noted, about the power of the in-the-moment realization that the world is ending for all intents and purposes. How characters process that is fantastic fodder. And Miranda, already such a mysterious character and cryptic presence in the story, comes (almost) completely alive to us. If you’re looking for bang for the buck — and whether you know it or not, most viewers are, right around the third or fourth episode, when something in the back of their brain is secretly deciding whether to continue or not — then an episode like this is figurative dynamite. We see glimpses of her writing the book; we potentially see motivation for it, though vague at this point; we see her protecting it at various points (and Arthur not honoring that trust); and we see her, ostensibly, burning it. And, as viewers, we’re left to ask, even after an hour and a superb story, “Who is this person, really?”I’m sure you’ll have a lot to say on that matter, particularly those who are watching it for the first time. If you didn’t listen to the preamble above, there’s a question I raise and really want to know your thoughts on: What do you think of the spaceman (or woman)/astronaut? I’m going to leave it at that, so as not to be leading. Have at it. As usual, I’ll be reading and dropping into the comments to flesh out the thoughts from above.B*****d Machine is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.I’m still in the ramping up stage of this Substack, so bringing it to more potential readers is the goal and that’s where you can be super helpful. Even if you have friends who don’t know what Substack is, maybe they’d like to find out and you can help them. And, if they love television and other creative ideas explored well, you know where to send them. Thanks in advance for any help spreading the word. This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timgoodman.substack.com/subscribe

I will tell you a very short story about rewatching the second episode (of four total) of “Collateral.” First, I caught myself being more critical than maybe I wanted to be while also trying to keep in mind something very important — if you go in for these quick hit series (and four episodes is really nothing), then you have to be ready for some cut corners. That said, the person I watched with has never seen the series and was dying to watch this second episode and came out of it…thrilled. Especially by what is arguably the best feature of “Collateral,” which is the pacing.So, I am very, very curious about what people thought about this episode (and maybe equally curious about whether you will keep the big picture in mind when responding). It is, I suppose, a kind of test. Or, more exactly, an observation. I have guesses about how this might go, but I also have experience teaching a Visual Studies class for 14 years and knowing that surprising reactions always are lurking in the seats.B*****d Machine is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Quick reminder if you went ahead and binged this — please focus on the 2nd episode only. Other than that, I’m going to add the same spread the word phrasing I used with the “Station Eleven” post: I will be checking out the comments and diving in with my own responses and (warmed up) hot takes! So, have at it through next Friday. If you know anyone else who might be interested in The Box Set viewing club — or who might need a prod to come over to Substack, by all means tell them we’ve got room. A big audience is a good audience if everyone loves TV. This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timgoodman.substack.com/subscribe

“To the monsters, we’re the monsters,” says a creepy stranger to Kirsten, adding, “…I guess” in a failed attempt to make himself less creepy. Then again, she knows, and he wanted her to know. Something is not right. Something unknown is known. This intrusion of potential danger is, of course, set up with the first shot — a feral Young Kirsten, holding a knife, looking like she’s survived all kinds of hell but still young and fragile. If you have a few minutes to play the audio you’ll hear some of my thoughts on this episode that, on first viewing I liked quite a lot — more Jeevan and Young Kirsten, the introduction of the Traveling Symphony (although I can’t say that’s my favorite element to the series, though it’s unique), and the realization that, what, roughly 99 percent of people who got the flu died? Yikes. But as Jeevan says, “Not everybody.” And our post-apocalyptic tale moves forward.Loved all the participation in the comments last week. Keep it up and feel free to “like” another person’s comments, which gives some validation to their key points or thoughts that you liked (and it also, in a weird way, helps the newsletter since Substack seems to rank them not just by paid subscribers — it’s way to early on that count for me — but also by popularity, which seems to at least partly be based on user activity, and The B*****d Machine is, for the category of television, No. 1 there, which is nice). B*****d Machine is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.As ever, I’ll continue to swoop into the comments and to add new thoughts. But the audio above is my longer take. So, what did everyone think? And a reminder for those who have already seen “Station Eleven” to confine comments to this particular episode. It can sometimes be tricky, I know. OK, have at it through next Friday. If you know anyone else who might be interested in The Box Set viewing club — or who might need a prod to come over to Substack, by all means tell them we’ve got room. This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timgoodman.substack.com/subscribe

Note: If you read my Welcome post, you know that I was once a music critic and was recently writing a book of essays on music until, you know, life interfered and I focused instead on fiction. As I said in that post, I would be bringing over some of those essays (some of them updated, and newer ones in time) under the banner of “Resounding,” which was the title of the book since it was focusing on songs, singers, bands, and albums that were mostly already released, but also served as a resounding endorsement for all of the music I was writing about. (Yes, always with the clever). Well, here it is, and I’m kicking it off with something a little…odd, but lovely. This is the story of a song. About me. Normally, I would never listen to a song about me because, well, would you? I don’t know. But this is different. I suppose I should start by mentioning that I’m a huge fan of Clem Snide, which is a band not a person and, if we wanted to reroute this toward television, is the band whose “Moment In the Sun” was the theme song to the second season of the the late, lamented, underrated NBC comedy, “Ed.” (You may say, actually, TIM, the theme song was “Next Year” by Foo Fighters — which is correct, but it switched to “Moment In the Sun” for Season 2 and then, I think, back to the Foo Fighters after some money issues were resolved, which is the most Clem Snide turn of events I can imagine. Here’s that song:Clem Snide the band was/is fronted by singer-songwriter Eef Barzelay, which of course means that I also love Barzelay’s solo stuff. They are different sounds, though (update: this was written before Barzelay just went back to using Clem Snide for everything, which makes a lot of sense) — the former done with a truly talented, exceptional band through a number of excellent studio albums. Eef, the dude, is a whole mood though. He’s quirky, shy, thoughtful, funny, passionate and…well, yeah, eccentric. I mean, He just is. I saw him play a house concert in San Francisco right before the pandemic hit. If you don’t know what a house concert is, well, an artist basically shows up in someone’s living room or in their back yard as the venue and plays to a collection of devoted strangers who are also sitting in some stranger’s living room or milling about their back yard. It’s…intimate, personal, real.As I said, Eef’s solo stuff, some of it starkly acoustic, is a different vibe. I like it for different reasons. Years ago, while Eef had put Clem Snide off to the side for a very extended period, I was tracking down more of his solo stuff that, life being life, I’d somehow missed. (There was a lot. I hope you will discover more of his work and in so doing you will realize that, holy hell, among other things that man knows how to cover a song and reinvent it). He did an EP of Journey songs, of all things, and I’ve been known to use it to stun friends by playing those songs without telling them what it is or who is singing and the slow realization that it was a Journey song would just blow their minds. Now, for the sake of this story, I’ve ruined that little party trick for you, but here, check it out:But let’s get back to “Tim,” the song, shall we?So years ago I came across an album of solo acoustic songs from Eef on Bandcamp called Songs We Made Vol. 1, and each one was titled with a woman’s name: Lizzy, Sarah, Misty, Leah, etc. It was quirky and fun and really personal. I bought it. I played it a lot. And my appreciation for it spiked when I found out that these were songs that people had asked him to write. Life as a musician is some hard s**t, you may have figured out. And smart people have been working very creatively to find ways to get artists paid. Spoiler: It’s not going to be Spotify or Apple. Eef found his own way with something simple: He had a thing going where, if you wanted, you could pay him to write a song — I’m assuming this would be about someone you loved, but I didn’t really research that part. I’m also assuming people didn’t pay for songs about themselves, or at least it didn’t sound like that on Vol. 1.) Eef put 10 of those on that first album and nine more on Songs We Made Vol. 2. I told that Eef-is-partially-supporting-himself-writing-songs-for-people story to a lot of friends and loved ones. Unsurprisingly, one of those people was my partner, who filed it away in her busy and thoughtful brain, then remembered it toward the end of 2019. She looked into it and found that it wasn’t really something Eef was advertising, but he was indeed still doing it. How does he do it? Part of the deal is you write details about this person you want a song for and send it to Eef, who reads all your loving blather and takes from it what he will and then writes said song. The story I got after the fact from my partner was that she was kind of embarrassed that she wrote a very, very long missive about me, about us, and in particular about this new opportunity, new career path that had come my way at the end of 2019, when I left being a TV critic and got a development deal to write TV shows. It felt, she said, like a change worth celebrating. So how about celebrating it partly in a song? That summer we had celebrated this life change around a roaring camp fire in Big Sur, with lot of natural wine and the slightest bit of trepidation about me abandoning a successful career for a kind of wild creative swing. We were celebrating a new plan. I woke up on Christmas and got the song, “Tim,” at the top of this post. If you’ve got this far, it’s time to play that song. Let me tell you that it’s sublime to have a song about yourself. It’s also a lovely gesture (and a generous thing to do for someone, obviously). Every time I played it, the strangest sensations came about. And yes, of course I cried. Later I would find out that a few people who knew my partner was doing this said to her, “Holy s**t. Well, you win Christmas.” It’s a pretty great gift. (It keeps on giving!) It’s also super relevant in one way because this new “plan” as Eef references, found me quite luckily being able to do a number of things creatively while getting paid to write a prospective TV series, so something I plotted when not working on the pilot was a long gestating story about someone in the music business weathering the difficulties of a changing marketplace, of age, of love, failure, regret, resilience, of….well, you can read the book (or miniseries!) if it ever gets done. But the important element to this little story is that more than a decade ago I came up with that idea and several musicians and their real-life stories play a central part in the fictional version I want to tell and, yep, one of them was/is Barzelay. Obviously, this was well before I got my own song. It all connects now, though. I don’t know if I’ll ever finish it (update: I started it; haven’t got very far) but at least I have a song whose very creator reminds me in a personal soundtrack why I want to try.Tim Goodman / B*****d Machine is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.P.S. In 2020 Eef Barzelay worked with Scott Avett of the Avett Brothers and turned out the terrific Clem Snide album, “Forever Just Beyond” that got a lot of acclaim and also a lot of attention for this majestic song, “Roger Ebert,” (that Roger Ebert’s widow, Chaz, also thought was wonderful and touching as it celebrated his cosmic dying words). This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timgoodman.substack.com/subscribe

Note: I’m sending out two separate emails (and thus threads) for The Box Set television club today. If you’re seeing this email in the evening, you should have received a previous one, “Station Eleven,” in the morning. Greeting to all The Box Set television club members who already got their feet wet by reading the previous email and learning that, oooooh, hell yeah, we are going to watch “Station Eleven.” Maybe you started already? Maybe you made some comments and got into the discussion vibe? Good! As I said this morning, we are off and watching. And now I’m dipping back into the vast, murky Netflix ether where good shows go to get lost and pulling, out of nowhere, a little four-episode gem called “Collateral.” If you’ve seen this, congratulations, because I’ve never met anyone who has other than myself.The Details:So here’s how it’ll work unless this proves to somehow not work, but I have faith:* Don’t read the comments until AFTER you’ve watched the episode. That’s the most important thing I can tell you, since the whole point of this is to DISCUSS the episode in the comments. (Also, just as a reminder, if you’ve already seen “Collateral” and want to contribute, be cognizant not to make comments about future episodes, just this one). I would have just posted a “thread” that Substack allows but to my knowledge you can’t embed the audio that I have above and, to my additional knowledge, there’s nothing really different from how the comments arrange in a “post” than a “thread,” so I went this route.* Listen to the SPOILER FREE audio from me and then watch Ep. 1 of “Collateral,” on Netflix, or vice-versa — watch first, come back and listen. * Discuss in the comments. All done. See, simple. But I’m going to drop this anvil one more time: For those of you who have already finished “Collateral”, please remember to only leave comments here about Ep. 1. (It’s easy to get confused, as I once spoiled a major plot point for “Mr. Robot” in my Visual Studies class — it was still two episodes away. Oooops!) . I’m a big advocate of rewatching episodes because there’s so much detail you have either forgotten or didn’t see upon your initial viewing, so I encourage a rewatch, which will keep the machinations of each particular episode fresh in your mind.(Yes, I know that if you read this morning’s email, all of this seems….vaguely identical. But we just need to get on the same page for the launch so bear with me.Next steps: The essential, fun, element: Interact with each other’s insight. Someone has a different take on a character’s action in this episode than you? Great, enlighten each other. I’ll come in and out of this thread all week, until I post Ep. 2 next Friday, liking comments and adding my own thoughts. I’m excited to see your reactions. Tim Goodman / B*****d Machine is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Hey, if you know other TV lovers — and my assumption is that you do — I would be grateful if you passed this along to them so that they can subscribe and join us. Maybe they’d love The Box Set feature or maybe they’d just like to read other TV and culture posts. Getting the word out helps me keep doing this, obviously, so I appreciate it. This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit timgoodman.substack.com/subscribe