Television

In a recent Instagram story, the dancer and model Alexandra Waterbury posted that she had just seen the preview for the latest “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit” on television. She wrote, “I’ll be watching the ‘Kardashians’ instead.”The “SVU” episode, “Dance, Lies and Videotape,” shown Thursday night, seemed to be loosely modeled on an incident at New York City Ballet. In 2018, two principal male dancers were fired after they were accused of sharing texts of sexually explicit photos of women, including of Ms. Waterbury. (An arbitrator ordered the company to reinstate them.) A third, Chase Finlay, resigned before he could be fired. Ms. Waterbury filed a lawsuit against the company, the affiliated School of American Ballet and Mr. Finlay, her ex-boyfriend.In the end, Ms. Waterbury watched “SVU” and wrote a response in her Instagram stories. The episode, which takes her story to a darker place, is unflagging in its attempt to include every ballet stereotype, most predominantly, that all the women in ballet are victims. One character, naturally the gay male friend, sums up their world: “Straight male can’t fail. Gay men, it depends. But girls in ballet? Do what we say.”It’s telling that the word is girls, not women. Infantilizing ballet dancers is a real thing. In bringing it out into the open, both on television and in life, progress is being made to give women more empowerment.As for the way the scandal was portrayed? This was very much a TV version, typical in depicting the dance world in impossibly broad strokes. There were so many sordid twists that it was more farcical than shocking, making it seem that the original incident needed to be pumped up in order to be truly horrifying.The plot went something like this: Male dancers make secret videos of their sexual conquests; a male choreographer says he can keep the videos offline as long as the women have sex with him (which sounds more like rape); and, finally, an artistic director promises to make that nightmare go away as long as the dancer in question — elevated to the rank “prima ballerina” somewhere along the way — agrees to be auctioned off to the highest-paying bidder, I mean donor, expecting more than just dinner on a big gala night.A dancer, in other words, has never been more of an object.The blandly emotive choreography, seen in brief flashes is not worthy of a prima ballerina, much less an apprentice. (The dancers don’t even wear point shoes.) It’s all very B-movie: The sex scenes take place in Studio X — so nicknamed by the dancers — where a barre replaces a bed, as if it were a thing for a ballet dancer to want to have sex and stretch her hamstring at the same time.Delia, the young dancer whose video has gone viral — she’s the one who brings in the police — ultimately quits the profession. She can’t imagine being onstage with “everyone in the audience leering at me on the internet.”I understand Ms. Waterbury’s reticence to watch the episode. On TV, the story is somewhat resolved; the bad guys here — the choreographer and the artistic director — are arrested, even if the male dancers go largely unpunished. “I think it’s weird to think that they took my story and then changed the ending even though my story hasn’t ended yet,” Ms. Waterbury said in her video. (Her lawsuit is still being contested.)The episode does have one shining moment: the appearance of the filmmaker John Waters, who plays the mastermind behind a website called Pornmonger, which hosts Delia’s viral video. As his character puts it: “Ballerina getting nailed in a tutu? That’s a whole genre, but what isn’t?”Mr. Waters nails it, too — he’s perfectly sleazy — but sadly he appears in one all-too-brief scene. He tells the detectives: “I can scrub this from our site, but it’s not going to mean anything. Nothing disappears from the internet.” This episode, in the bigger dance picture, doesn’t mean much of anything, either: It takes a serious issue and turns it into something silly. More

After Governor Tom Wolf ordered all “non-life-sustaining” businesses in several counties in Pennsylvania to shutter last week — as one of more than a dozen governors to issue “stay at home” or “shelter in place” orders to prevent the spread of the new coronavirus — only the most Dickensian remained in operation.It was not possible, on Monday, to send a child to school in Pennsylvania or for the Department of Transportation to perform any but the most urgent bridge repairs. But bookkeepers, slaughterhouses, steel mills and QVC stayed open.Indeed, by grace of the commonwealth’s declaration that “electronic shopping and mail-order houses” should be permitted to continue physical operations, viewers in every state and territory of the American republic retained the right to purchase, say, a reversible sequin shamrock T-shirt in six installments of $6.41, as advertised by a QVC host broadcasting live from the home shopping company’s TV studio in West Chester, a suburb of Philadelphia.In some respects, no network is better suited to see viewers through the unraveling global catastrophe. Even under normal conditions, the shopping channel’s hypnotic, sales pitch-style programming soothes like a balm.In the mouths of its vivacious hosts, continuously babbling like brooks of clear, cool water, every detail is delightful (ruched jacket sleeves) or, at worst, astonishing (the amount of filling stuffed into savory frozen ravioli). The company’s founder Joseph Segel, once summarized its appeal with the observation, “There’s no bad news on QVC.”This week, bad news was periodically acknowledged to exist.Some QVC viewers, perhaps, took comfort in the fact that Quacker Factory, the purveyor of shamrock shirts, had not been requisitioned to manufacture the N95 masks and ventilator machines in critically short supply at American hospitals. But they could not ignore the fact that all the guests dialed in remotely, via phone call or Skype — a circumstance that meant the on-screen hosts, in addition to temporarily styling their own hair and makeup to reduce the number of staff present, needed to perform herculean feats to fill the airtime.Parents wishing to sharpen children’s extemporaneous speaking skills during their prolonged absence from class would do well to present them with the challenge faced by host Kerstin Lindquist at the one o’clock hour on Monday: endeavoring, for sixty minutes, to sell sunglasses to a population heavily discouraged — in some localities, legally prohibited — from amusing itself outdoors.“You need them for skiing,” Ms. Lindquist said of the sunglasses. “For being at the beach. For looking at the pool. For driving.”Although QVC hosts excel at presenting the aspirational as inevitable, in the context of a global pandemic, the list of reasons one might need stylish shades designed by the actor Jamie Foxx veered into the preposterous. So Ms. Lindquist recalibrated. “Despite the fact that a lot of us are at home right now, you can still walk outside,” she offered.“There’s still going to be a lot more sunshine to come,” she said, expressing, too, her hope that viewers are “getting that vitamin D when you can.”“Your backyard, your front yard, next to a really, really nice window — whatever works, because we need that vitamin D,” she added.This was the unnerving forecast of our immediate future: Sitting indoors in a pair of brand-new sunglasses in the hopes of synthesizing vitamin D (a process, sadly, impeded by the glass of most windows.) And yet, through the sheer force of Ms. Lindquist’s enthusiasm, multiple styles of frames sold out.As stores across America have shut down amid a global economic crisis caused by the new coronavirus, the retail industry is predicting millions of job losses. It is also seeking guidelines on what retailers can be deemed “essential” and allowed to stay open. For now, the rules vary by locality, and there are plenty of gray areas, including pet stores, auto repair shops and “electronic” stores that offer zero physical contact with customers.QVC does not run traditional commercials. Since last Friday, however, public service announcements about the coronavirus aired during some segment breaks. Between PSAs, customers’ increasing hermetism can help or hinder a pitch.“If you’re watching ‘Invisible Man’ on your couch wearing the jumpsuit, you’ll still look cute,” said one host about a jumpsuit she was modeling. She had just given a glowing review to the new horror film, released by Universal several months early on streaming platforms because of the pandemic, in which a woman is physically and psychologically abused by an invisible man.A robotic vacuum, marketed to people who have no time to clean, was a tougher sell to an audience banned from engaging in most social activities. “When we get back to normal life,” said the disembodied voice of a vendor calling in by phone, “we’re busy. We don’t spend our time vacuuming.”A two-hour presentation of gourmet food items stood out in that two hosts were on the set simultaneously to sell them. At times, Mary Beth Roe and Stacey Stauffer appeared on opposite sides of a kitchen island laden with holiday food, apparently in accordance with the six feet of personal distance recommended by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. In other moments, they tested even the bounds of the laxer one-meter advisory issued by the World Health Organization.“I know a lot of you have emailed and such and said, ‘Are you guys doing this and that?’” Ms. Roe said early in the segment, referring to viewers’ questions about whether QVC is operating in accordance with health advisories. “We absolutely are, which is why we are not eating any of this food.” Both women, she explained, had sampled the items they were pitching “months and weeks ago.”Besides negotiating the inherent stop-and-start awkwardness of conference calls with unseen guests, the hosts of clothing segments visibly battled their urges to casually re-drape and arrange items worn by a reduced number of models on set.The sets themselves, each designed to look like a brightly lit version of a neutral upscale kitchen, or sitting alcove, or living room with two other living rooms inside it, felt unusually cavernous. A representative for QVC declined to say how many employees were present. Hosts spoke of keeping as many people out of the studio “as possible.”But they also emphasized that QVC’s service would continue unimpeded. As ever, items would arrive “directly to your doorstep — no interaction with a human being,” said Kerstin Lindquist. While the majority of employees at the corporate office in West Chester have shifted to remote work, QVC fulfillment centers in Pennsylvania, Virginia, California, and North and South Carolina have not reduced staffing. (The company said it has made health and safety modifications at all sites to support social distancing and enhanced sanitation practices, and those whose jobs are conducive to working remotely are doing so.)“We’re one of the only things that is still live, other than news,” said Ms. Lindquist while demonstrating application of an anti-aging product. “And we’re going to try and stay live as long as we possibly can with the appropriate precautions always being taken. As you can see, I’m alone here, which is great.” More

What’s StreamingMAKING THE CUT Stream on Amazon. “It’s an ambush!” Is that quote from the new James Bond movie? No? How about “1917”? Wrong again. It’s Tim Gunn speaking in the first episode of this new Amazon fashion-design reality series. When he says it, Gunn and Heidi Klum, his co-host, have just arrived at a fancy Manhattan hotel, where the show’s international group of contestants have gathered — each apparently unaware that Gunn and Klum are about to walk in, surprise them and kick off the competition. The group’s first challenge? Designing for a fashion show near the Eiffel Tower. Rewards for the season’s winner include mentorship and $1 million. Also, this: “The winner will get to create a collection that will be sold on Amazon,” Klum says.UNCORKED (2020) Stream on Netflix. Elijah (Mamoudou Athie) is a young man with a problem: He dreams of becoming an elite sommelier, but his father, Louis (Courtney B. Vance), wants him to take over the family’s Memphis barbecue restaurant. That friction is at the heart of this drama, the feature directorial debut of the “Insecure” showrunner Prentice Penny. The plot sees Elijah preparing for the Master Sommelier Exam while trying to keep his family life intact (Niecy Nash plays his mother) and balancing a romantic relationship. The movie “succeeds when it focuses on Elijah’s relationship with his family,” Lovia Gyarkye wrote in her review for The New York Times. “In moments where they gather, the writing and cast shine in equal measure,” Gyarkye added. She called it a “refreshing upgrade” to the father-son drama genre.What’s on TVONCE UPON A TIME … IN HOLLYWOOD (2019) 8 p.m. on Starz. “Leo, I’ll ride on your coattails any day, man,” Brad Pitt said when accepting the Oscar for best supporting actor for his performance in this most recent feature from Quentin Tarantino. The ride here is a wild one: Set in 1969, “Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood” casts Leonardo DiCaprio and Pitt as an over-the-hill Hollywood actor and his stunt double, with a plot that involves career problems, L.S.D. and Charles Manson. It’s a passionate look back at a particular time in Hollywood. It’s also a story of friendship between the two men — a relationship that, A.O. Scott wrote in his review for The Times, serves as “an organizing principle and a source of meaning, and a major reason that ‘Once Upon a Time’ is more than a baby-boomer edition of Trivial Pursuit brought to life.”STEVEN UNIVERSE FUTURE 7 p.m. on Cartoon Network. Rebecca Sugar’s hit animated show “Steven Universe” ended last year, but it has already had a pair of postscripts: “Steven Universe: The Movie” and “Steven Universe Future,” an epilogue show that has explored Steven’s life after the end of the human-alien conflict covered by the original series. “Future” ends Friday night with a set of four short episodes. More