Not With a Bang, But a Whimper: When Series Finales Don’t Work
It’s been nineteen days since my last post, and looking through all of my past posts, I realize that my focus has drastically shifted in a lot of areas, but I’m not going to talk about that, for the most part, as I’m still not totally sure where I stand now, but I wish to assure anyone who cares that I’m still keeping up my daily writing, though it’s barely staying above my 300 word requirement, which has been unnerving, to say the least. I could blame it on lack of inspiration, but I’m sure it’s more rooted in my current college confusions and theological quandaries bombarding me at the moment. It’ll pass. But onto the more important point on the docket today: the end of a television show.
While this whole post could apply to anything that goes on for a long time (book series, movie trilogies, etc) an subsequently ends, I’d like to touch mostly on televisions series’, as they often span much longer periods of time, allow richer storylines, immense character development, and, of course, a heavy risk of disappointing long time fans much more frequently than other mediums. And why am I bringing this up now, of all times? Because one of my favorite shows is about to lower the curtain for the final time:
House MD.
Now, why I like this show is quite simple, and most who know me don’t bat an eyelash when I divulge this revelation upon them–multi-layered mysteries, brilliant written characters and dialog, and wonderful direction, especially in major episodes (season finales, character deaths, etc.). Over the past months, after finally sitting down and watching the show from the beginning as the eighth season began, I worked my way through the entire series, and fell in love with it. But alas, it ends too soon for me, but at least it is ending on I high note.
Having digested my fair share of television series over the years, I’ve found some correlations between the good ones and the bad ones. There are simple mistakes (I’m talking really simple mistakes, like, ones that the directors should have seen long before storyboarding even began) made in the writings of the bad ones, and that annoys me to no end. When you’ve loved a show like the X-Files for years (yeah, I know was too young to see it fresh, but it still counts) even when it dimmed in quality toward the end seasons, it is beyond disappointing to see all the missed opportunities and overdone “climactic” moments.
What? Of course I made a list of them! Everybody loves lists (see Cracked.com for details). I’ve narrowed it down to three consistent flaws in the bad series finales. These are the three most common reasons series finales fail.
Leaving loose ends dangling:
Alright, I’m not going to take much credit on carefully constructing this one on my own, it’s pretty obvious to anyone with even the most cursory knowledge of story plotting that if you leave something open to the audience, they will clamor for answers, especially if you’ve been avoiding talking about the issue in the plot for a while. If you’re going to be concluding a story that people have fallen in love with and that you want it to continue garnering respect, you have to give the audience some semblance of closure, preferably more than less in this case. Don’t get me wrong, often times in movies I love a good open ending, leaving sweet little morsels of wonder to ponder the rest of the day (or week, in the case of movies like Inception), in television, this seems to rub me the wrong way most of the time. Every so often, someone gets it right, but when I’ve spent dozens of hours with these characters, I don’t want to see light peeking out under the final curtain after it goes down.
All I’m saying, is check your plot threads before closing shop.
Overcompensating/Underwhelming
The series finale has to be big, we all know this–it seems to be ingrained right into the very nature of the final episode. If it all hasn’t built up to some great climax and greater resolution, what was the point of the whole adventure we had undertaken with these characters. Yet, some shows don’t seem to get this. It’s not that they create a bad episode, don’t get me wrong, in fact, almost all series finales manage to at least be decent, even when the later episodes in the series were dropping rapidly in quality, but some of them just end up feeling like regular episodes because they don’t quite turn the conflict dial up high enough. Somehow they don’t get that if there isn’t something appropriately large for the characters to overcome (or fail to overcome), the catharsis for the audience will undoubtedly feel shallow and half-baked. They don’t have to be thrown up against some big bad guy, just let us see our favorite character go through a powerful development, one that will stick with us years later.
However, There is the opposite extreme. I’m talking about the sitcoms that cold open to a crowd of sad faces on all your brightest characters, and over the next hour, you watch all of them die. Now, I assure you, I’ve never actually witnessed one that extreme, but you get my point. When you turn the conflict knob past the comfortable “finale 11″ and up to to 30 or so, you tend to lose the tone of the show everyone’s held so close over the whole series or in some cases inject a sense of disbelief into the whole affair. Nothing kills final catharsis more than letting the audience see your characters as characters, rather than actual people. Tension is a balancing act.
And finally, of course, the big one:
Take us on a wonderfully well done plot wrapping final adventure, only to cut to black right before the last major event/reveal (you’re damn right it’s a mouthful!):
Missing something?
God, people were in an uproar over the Sopranos finale, and I have to say that they had the right to. As I’ve said before, when you’ve spent a considerable amount of time getting invested into these characters, you deserve some sort of compensation for your loyalty. Okay, fair enough if you want to kill our favorite character, go ahead and jump the shark all you want–it’s not our show, we didn’t create it. A director can take I show out of the airwaves any way he feels fit, and despite my annoyances with badly done finales, there is only so far I can complain. But don’t take us through a wonderful show, explode with a fantastic finale, wrapping up everything we could have needed to be wrapped up and leaving that warm bittersweet feeling in the pits of our stomachs, only to throw us for a loop at the end and fade out forever before answering anything. That’s terrible.
This is comparable to the “Leaving loose ends”, but in a much more direct and intentional method. I’ll forgive Spaced if it didn’t quite give me all conclusions I felt would be nice, I can accept Arrested Development setting it’s world up for another adventure that we didn’t need to see (even though they’re coming back to that one, and rightly so), even if a show forgets it was building up some romance halfway through the final season and resolves to pretend like the sexual tension was never there, I’d be okay if the episode was good enough. But to give me greatness, and to dash it at the last second with some sort of bizarre twist you knew you wouldn’t be able to answer (I’m looking at you too, Jekyll–you knew you were done for) is at it’s base painful to watch. It can mar your whole opinion about a show and it’s writing in one fell swoop. When your fans are calling into their provider en masse, saying their episode got cut off at the last minute, and then erupting into rage, you know you screwed up.
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All I can say in the end though is that I trust House MD. I trust it to give me a satisfying, powerful emotional finale, and I’ll be watching, biting my tongue and hoping all goes well. Cross your fingers.
100 Days of Writing – I Did It!
This is it, 100 days of daily writing. It’s been crazy, many nights stretching into the early morning as as I dug into a new piece of a story, and many days stressing over having nothing to write. It’s a little disappointing, but reaching this point, I don’t have much to add to what I’ve already said on here. All I can say that it’s been an experience, and one that I’m excited to continue.
I had a lot more that I wanted to talk about here, but I’m kind of scatterbrained now, so I’m just going to leave you with some stats.
Total Words: 70,160 (~702 words a day)
Best Day: Day 72–3,570
Novels Started: 4 (none completed)
That’s all I got on this, and I’ll have something later this week, but until then, thanks for putting up with me.
Words, Words, And Those Fifty-Cent Words
Today I was planning on putting up another post regarding ebooks, but I still have some finishing touches to do with a picture for it that can’t be done till tomorrow night, so I guess you’ll all see it then (what few of you there are).
However, I’d like to talk about a compulsion that has beset me these past few weeks that I think might prove interesting material up here. From all around me, every day, new words that I couldn’t place would brush past my ears, and like anyone who’s gone through American high school, I too often take the low road, ignoring it or just assuming its meaning based on the sentence or the phrase. However, this leads me to a rather depressing place–being extraordinarily competitive in the areas of writing and literature, I can’t stand having someone have more colors to choose from than me, so to speak, especially when I really want to know what the artist really means in a sentence or song. So, I have concluded that I should proceed to continuously expand my vocabulary with each new word I find every day, looking up and noting the definition in full, storing it in case in case I forget, then proceeding to use it as soon as possible.
“Well, obviously,” you say, “Even primary school children know to do this on a regular basis!” Not so, I argue. All to often, we forget the sheer beauty and conciseness that words some might mark as pretentious or archaic hold. So, in an effort to bring more people into this habit, I’m going to start posting the new words I looked up that day and what they mean (hopefully space permits this on big reading days).
Infinite Jest -- 479,198 words of awesome
My inspiration for this coming practice comes from David Foster Wallace, a man that was fascinated by words and grammar till his death. Having begun to sidle through his magnum opus, Infinite Jest, I’ve found it delightfully rich in language to a degree that often is ignored in the modern novel in service of more attention to the plot. This is not to say that plotting is not viciously important in writing, but rather to enforce that much of the time we often spend explaining and plodding through the plot, we perhaps should be trying to do the same thing through a few beautiful words. Implication of ideas, especially ones out of the main focus, can prove much more engaging and stark than the railings put up by words like “because” and “did”.
I do not wish to place all the importance of literary conveyance on the language itself, or to disparage any other devices of writing, as some of the best novels I have ever read, such as Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut, were built primarily of concept and character, rather than language itself. However, it seems to me that words are becoming a lost art that needs revival. I am probably not the one to do it, but I sure as hell can do my part.
If any of you are looking for a book with a brilliant command of language, check out We Make Mud by Peter Markus. While the author does confine himself to a limited, often grimy and simple spectrum of words, the feel of each one of them plopping and churning together to form rich, deliciously heavy sentences is one of power and definition, something often difficult to find. This is a book worth taking your time with, feeling every word roll around in your mouth as you read it.
Culling Life out of Real Life: Dealing With Stress and Conflict
I’m not one for conflict. In fact, if I were to take a tally of times I actively sought confrontations in the last year, including those regulated toward the righting of injustice toward me or others (more likely others than me), I could probably show that number on one hand. I’d like to say that I avoid the circumstances leading toward such things, but I’d be lying–like everyone else, I’m surrounded by ticking time bombs of fights waiting to go off at any moment, and the only reason I tend to stay out of them is through stepping as lightly as I possibly can around them. I lie an alarming amount, at least double the average, just to avoid conflicts of interest or opinion, let alone fights over my own feelings on matters.
Except I'm not this snappily dressed.
Even now, as my acquaintances (I hesitate to use the word friends lightly anymore) in my dorm on no uncertain terms create infighting and bitter conflict through each of their own individual ignorance and asperity, I sit well away, at least in a figurative sense (I have to be in close proximity sometimes, unfortunately), trying to close myself off to the gunshots and war cries, doing all I can with emotional and physical distancing, but they still manage to drag me into their scuffle with frightening regularity, to the point that it’s wearing me down, again, both emotionally and physically. I’m often tired, annoyed, and left sitting about, trying not to think of my own psychological issues as they hep on theirs. I try not to sound too whiny here, as I know I’ve reached that point, but its essential to understand the nature of my situation in order to appreciate the rest of this blog post.
I have been, of course, trying proactive measures to try and alleviate their issues and mine at the same time. With subtle and slow manipulation that I’m not particularly proud of, I managed for a short while to twice reconcile them all, bringing them together for some healing and apology before lack of effort on both sides lead to the collapse and retreat into conflict once more. I hoped, a couple of weeks ago when I last did this (followers might remember the icky mass of posts I’ve already done about this topic), that it would last long enough on its bridge of rotting wood and yarn for me to be out of the dorms by the time this reared up again, but no, it was not to be.
In that vain of trying to restabilize myself into a healthy individual, I would like to run through the rest of this post talking about not the stupid fights around me and my attempts at avoiding conflict, but the ways I (and anyone reading who cares to try these) might be able to sidestep the fervor of conflict, rather than wading through the mire. I plan to try those I hadn’t already attempted and increase the frequency of the others I have starting today, and I invite anyone who has been struggling with stress from anything, be it conflict, schoolwork, or clotting writing projects, to go ahead with me.
Confront the Problem (Of course!)
While I have discussed how I have tried to solve the problems beset upon me, rarely have I looked up and tried to consider what my actual role in all of it is. So is true with the rest of my life, down to my issues with completion in writing. For instance, in this case, I really have no involvement in the conflict–though I know all the parties and can side with either on different issues, I really have nothing to do with it. In fact, the only result from my intervening has been frustration and waggling fingers in my direction. Sometimes, you aren’t the one who needs to worry about the problems of others if they aren’t willing to try helping themselves. It can feel good when to be The Shoulder, who can brighten even the dimmest of moods, but sometimes, a Shoulder is just an invitation for the claws of involvement. My point is, if it’s not really your conflict, get yourself emotionally away from it, and fast, unless you can do some legitimate help, such as if some having a bad night just wants and needs to talk. And if it is your problem, such as my completion issue, look at what you can do to start untangling the root of the problem. In my case, this means establishing what the cause of it is–disinterest, lack of confidence, no deadlines, and a lack of meaningful rewards and punishments for succeeding or failing respectfully. Adjust this to fit your own personal struggles and conflicts, and remember, if you don’t approach it, you can’t reasonably expect anyone else to.
Find Something Better To Funnel The Energy Into
So, what I'm saying is that I'm pretty much Bob Dylan. But shorter.
I know this seems like another obvious one, but its important, so bear with me. As previously stated, all these conflicts I’ve found myself embroiled between have been draining me of so much energy. I’ve nearly fallen behind on my fan fiction schedule, my blog post have become increasingly sparse and whiny, and I my daily writing has scraped barely by more than once, terrible considering the river flow I had been managing a couple weeks ago. So, what I’ve resolved to do is, after I’ve cut the conflict off my radar, reinvest that energy into more productive things. Writing creatively more every day, reading more, watching all those shows I haven’t gotten to, getting more solid blog posts out more frequently, perhaps start another project in some angled medium for me apart from traditional prose (like another fan fiction storyline, lyrics, or a fun little screenplay), and working on improving my musical skills are all on the docket. For a while now, I’ve been learning piano, and added guitar recently, and after an excursion this past week, harmonica has joined the repertoire, and spending uninterrupted time working with those, and dabbling in lyrics for my brother (a much more accomplished musician, but a crap songwriter) has loosened several twisted evenings already. Of course, there are dozens of other activities that could fill this space, (and many I should be, like finding a job and taking care of scholarships), so set your schedule to what you want to do. Want to learn medicine? Pick up a book, find a corner and start. Need more exercise? Curve your masochistic urge with a good run, or hell, some yoga (something I should probably be thinking about, considering my stress). Quilting catch your eye? Make me one . . . I’m cold. You have more freedom than you think.
Escape!
Get the hell away from all that mess! Seriously, no matter the looming terror that lays before you, or the skein of worries and whispers that keep trying to drag you back in, pack your bags with whatever you need, be it your computer, your book, your harmonica, or just your adventuring legs, and explore around you until you find those little nooks in the world that you can roost and claim independence. I have several means of this, to give you some ideas. At university, I often feel trapped within my room, so when my classes are over, I try to take the first ride out of there (if anyone who’s ever given me a ride there or home, my humblest and most gracious thanks). However, that’s not an option in the middle of the week, and this is the circumstance many might be feeling right now–maybe you’re stuck at home, stuck in the city, stuck on campus, but trust me, there’s always somewhere lingering out in the open you never knew was so peaceful. For me, I sometimes lock myself in the my lonesome in the music practice rooms, free from prying eyes to play and sing and write however I wish. If I feel like being around anonymous others, I take a spot in the the crowded student union, writing, watching an old favorite show, or just people watching–it’s a weight off my heart. If you’re in a major city and can get around, guess what? Explore, find that one little shop that serves that creamy hot chocolate with the fluffy whipped cream an allows you to sit there and suck off their Wifi for six hours, find that corner by the bridge that the funniest of people seem to walk by, find that bookstore run by the lady with better stories in her memory than on the pages she sells. At home? Walk outside, sit on a swing at the park and hum to yourself, lie in the grass in a neighbor’s yard till her yells at you to scram, go into the dark of your basement and see how long you can watch that horror movie until you run back up. Some of my best times on campus have been the little breaks I get away from my normal campus world, around people or not.
Oh screw you! I do what I want, sign!
I feel like I cheat myself of the true experience, even when I’m at home–I enjoy being around people I like (too few, I realize), but I find myself unwilling to call and break their schedules to take them out for dinner, or for a nice walk around the lake. It’s my goal to at least once each week make the rounds of the town with a friend, if opportunity allows. This weekend especially I need to get away from the normal rotations of dorm room-home-room-home and go do something exciting. I feel like feeding the ducks by the lake. I’ll see who’s up for that, amongst other things.
Fall in Love With The Possibilities
Too often, I box myself into this tiny shell of what I can do, or what I’m allowed to do. I forget all the ways I can go about things, all the things I could do and all the delicious consequences, good or bad, that could come from them. I simply just need to sit down and appreciate that I only have so much time, and sitting in the same loop, unhappy, is a sad waste of it. This one I’ve been toying with more recently, doing things like trying out stand up comedy routines for people, striking up conversations with random strangers, learning new, random words, and just letting myself go along for the ride. Just recently, after seeing a video about Exiting the Friendzone by Hank Green of the Vlogbrothers on a friend’s blog (if you haven’t read it, you seriously need to at Alphabetically Inclined). This inspired me to take the shot and ask out a friend I’d been mulling over feelings for for a while. I was turned down, but while it twinged a bit, I felt so much freedom having taken the chance. And that’s what it takes sometimes, putting yourself on the line to lift yourself out of the pit of sameness.
With this all in mind, and my longest blog post to date under my belt, I say adieu and good luck to anyone who’s bothered reading through all this and has decided to do something for themselves. I know I didn’t exactly cover Earth-shattering ideas, but I hope somebody comes out of this bettered through them.
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For my last week of TV suggestions, I put up the shows Parks and Recreation (In brief: think The Office with better characters and more consistent humor) and Campus (In brief: Britain’s answer to Community, only about the teachers), two amazingly funny and well put together character based comedies. New episodes of Parks and all of Campus can be found on Hulu, and Parks’ first three seasons are on Netflix.
It Seems Like Crazy is “In” This Season
I am actually kind of surprised I was able to sit down and write this today. I’ve been sort of slumping around, not able to stay focused on anything. It’s a slump of uninspiration on my part, the formidable writing hangover I was doomed to receive after this weekend’s burst of two 1300 word days and one lovely 3500 word day. Of course, it’s not a wonderful occurrence, but what’s the point of complaining further? Unbeknownst to them, in the wake of my creative slump, a number of people have decided to impart upon my a cavalcade of oddities, for better and for worse, and I think this might just be the perfect time to dispense some of the better ones, and oh how . . . insane . . . they are. First up on the docket–
I'm just waiting for her to come in like this.
The Next New “Personality”: Of all the bizarre quirks my dormitory acquaintances, perhaps the most irritating and hilarious one simultaneously is their decision that two people have suddenly developed multiple personalities over the past few months, joining one of them who actually has been diagnosed. Of course they have not been diagnosed, and usually, despite my own suspicions, I don’t take official sides on the issue–not worth the extra conflict, and it doesn’t bother me most of the time. That is, UNTIL one of them decides to utilize it to live out fantasies and express emotions they can’t get out through normal means for some reason or another. Enter the girl who has been altering the number of “personalities” she thinks she has from day one to fit what seems interesting and relevant from one moment to the next.
From 5 to 8 to 4 to 2 (including her) to 2 to today’s 2! And guess what we’ve got on the table this time–I kid you not, a prim and proper Victorian girl with a terrible English accent. I had to leave the room to keep myself from laughing. Extended periods of time with this though . . . it might drive me further up the wall. Granted, its better than than her “evil twin” personality, which I’m convinced was an excuse to be able to be a dick to people without being called out on it. Moving forth–
Dorm Mates Fighting Again: Yes, again. Lord. Moving on–
Being Accosted By a Crowd of . . . um . . . Energetic Strangers: For this one, I think it would be better if I just relayed this conversation verbatim.
Guy 1: Hey! *pretends to throw basketball at me–phone in hand, I do nothing but flinch. Of course, he laughs.* I wasn’t gonna throw it bro! You play basketball?
Me: Uh . . . no.
Guy 1: No? Soccer, football, Frisbee?
Me: No, I’ve only ever swam, really.
Guy 1: Oh! Like a dolphin?
Me: I suppose?
Guy 2: That it? You shoot cards? Gamble? *mimes shaking dice or masturbating . . . I’m not sure still*
Me: No, I um . . . write. *He doesn’t seem to hear me*
Guy 2: How bout picking up the hoes? *thrusts hips to the approving nods of everyone*
Me: Uh . . no. Just write and read and stuff . . . . .
Guy 3: You watch TV? *I nod, and he names some show I can’t place (sorry, can’t remember the title)*
Me: No, sorry. *He starts pushing me toward the door*
Guy 3: Okay, get out, get out. *Stops* Naw, just kidding, bro.
Guy 2: Hold on–”New Jack City”?
Me: Uh . . . no?
Guy 2: Yeah, get the f*ck out. *He shunts me out the door as they all laugh and make my day in the process*
He's out their somewhere . . .
The “Richard Loves White People” Blog: This was a an accidental find by me by way of a Youtube comment. At first, of course, I thought this was I joke along the lines of something I might have had a go at, but after reading all the posts on the blog (only two months of brief ones) I have to believe there’s something very real, and very strange about it.
The blog, as mentioned, is titled Richard Loves White People, and is primarily not about white people. Nor is it directly about hate, nor anything you’d expect from that title. No, it is about beauty, for the most part. The first few posts are nothing but touched up snapshots from the Lord of the Rings films and almost poetic musings on the meaning of beauty in the world, coupled with pleasant Christian interjections, talking about Eden, and some of the things in this culture, like rampant sexuality, alcoholism, drugs, and masturbation, that Richard feels are hurting people. White people, that is. Yes, peppered into these remarkable calming and well written posts, Richard relates the topics briefly to “White people” (yes, capitalized like that every time). It’s rather disconcerting–as I said before, he says nothing bad about any other race directly, and even praises the goods other religions have brought upon society, as he sees it, like Muslim’s refusal to consume alcohol.
However, it almost feels like it’s written by somebody who’s not exactly mentally sound. Every so often, you catch a glimpse of something unnerving, such as when he mentions the word “multicultural”. It’s an odd site, check it out if you’re up to it.
EDIT: Damn. He seems to have removed all but April’s posts, leaving me the slightest but disappointed. Eh. Still a taster.
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Ah, also, I almost forgot about my weekly recommendation. Um . . . check out Lie to Me*. One of my favorite crime dramas of all time. Of course, all on Netflix and less savory places.
Spaced and Schedule Havoc
This is what you get with this cast when the photographer just says "Look interested".
On the recommendation list this week (I believe I might make that list this month’s theme) this week is a little British comedy show called Spaced, starring Simon Pegg, Jessica Stevenson, and Nick Frost, and directed by Edgar Wright (written primarily by the three aside from Frost) by If these names themselves don’t quite ring the right bells, you might recognize a pair of movies they all collaborated to make: Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz.
Even in their early years, this gang’s comedic prowess was undeniable, combining sharp acting; zany, often surrealist writing; and subtle (and not so subtle sometimes) directorial cues to form a brilliant, memorable cast of characters and their accompanying stories. While it only lasted two seasons of seven episodes, it manages to still feel succinct and full by the end of the experience, coming together with intense emotional conflicts and a breathtaking catharsis.
The show is based in modern London, and centers itself around the exploits of a pair of friends, Tim Bisley (Pegg), an uncompromising nerd who works in a comic shop and hates the Phantom Menace, and Daisy Steiner (Stevenson), a struggling journalist, with amzing ambition and no drive whatsoever, who meet unceremoniously in a crumby diner, each spotting out a new flat. Inevitably, they end up stumbling across one that fits both their needs, but it’s marked ‘Professional Couple Only.” For the two singles, this is a death wish, until they look twice at each other.
What pours forth is a series of life adventures as seen by the pair, who can only hope to maintain their cover as a couple, all the while dealing with each other. Despite the traditional conflicts that seem inevitable in the scenario, we are treated to bizarre and wildly fun adventures that seem to spawn from everyday occurrences–getting into a dog and breaking out said dog from a comically twisted animal testing ring, getting fabulously drunk on the free wine at a pretentious indie “art” performance, hearing the sounds of war in their ears as paintballs whiz by their ears, finger gunfights against hooligans in the backstreets of London, I could go on and on.
Take my word for it, this is a show positively worth checking out, and one that you will come out remembering, for the characters if anything. I know I haven’t really touched on this aspect, because it’s one that I don’t think should be too spoiled, but the shortlist, to name a few others: Brian, the odd, “tortured” artist living in that flat below them, Marsha, the lovable, drunken landlady, Mike, Tim’s friend obsessed with dreams of the military, and Twist O’Lemon, Daisy’s oblivious, eye on the dress sort of friend.
This show is available free in its entirety on Hulu, and also on Netflix, if you want to skip the ads.
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I apologize for the lack in posts this past week, I’ve had a crazy amount of schoolwork to get done with an incompetent group at my back, half of which was working on their own without the rest, and half didn’t know what was going on. As a result I had a couple of sleepless nights, and disrupted my blog schedule (though not my writing schedule! Suck it group!). Anyways, good writing again!
Weekly T.V. Recommendation — Luther
I’ve come to a situation where I have way too much time on my hands for half the week, and haven’t the drive consistently do something productive (other than write and bathe), so I’ve begun watching a lot more television shows on my list that I’ve never gotten to. I know this isn’t exactly the most rigorous of plights, but don’t interrupt me–this is to your benefit. In this light, I’ve decided to once a week share either a fantastic show that I’ve found that week (likely an older show, as I haven’t found a lot of great new shows), or something that I’ve dug up again recently that needs to be rewatched.
This week, I came across a still running show on the BBC called Luther. Essentially, you’ve got a standard detective show on the surface: a gritty, scarred, and damaged lead detective (Luther, played by Idris Elba) with a questionable past gets hooked back into the force by the only superior that sees the good he could do for the department, and is partnered up with the do good newbie. And for the first couple episodes, it plays out also how you would expect. There’s Luther’s marriage issues (that continue to spiral out of control throughout the series), first of all. Soon after, we start meeting a few dangerous and clever killers (homicide in this show seems like a much larger problem than I expected in great Britain–I might have to reconsider my dream of living there of the show’s standard two serial killers a month stays consistent). And yes, the investigations do proceed predictably for the first few episodes. But then, all of this shifts into the next gear.
It takes the show to really get into what makes Luther work, making him feel like a ragtag collage of other, better detective characters 
for a while, like Dr. House from House M.D., Cal Lightman from Lie to Me*, and even Sherlock Holmes. But once it actually gets into how he as a character functions in response to his daily stresses, what the extent of his emotional instability really is, and how all this affects the people around him, it begins to draw you in significantly more. In fact, every character has some kind of depth to them that makes its mark on the show’s world and is expertly projected through the shows actors. Later on in the first season, this show has some of the best acting on a traditional crime show I’ve seen in a while, rising easily to the level of Lie to Me*‘s better episodes. Some of the most interesting moments in this show come from the relationships between the characters, a notable one being between Luther and a narcissistic killer genius who has fallen in love with him, and only wants to help fix his problems in her own deadly ways. What develops is a touching friendship that has to be seen to be fully appreciated.
Aside from the acting and the characters, the plots in this show really ratchet up the tension with twist and high stakes rising up and up and hitting the perfect note before cutting the season. It’s not quite as powerful with it’s tension as Jekyll, a show I’ve touched on earlier, but I’ve seen very few shows that have reached that level of consistently.
You can find the show in its entirety so far on Netflix, and most streaming sites online, if you’re interested.
A Little Update
Just a little update:
I haven’t seen much of anybody in a while, let alone went out and did something exciting to write about. I’ve been writing a new idea (but what’s new there?) and catching up with a couple shows that I haven’t gotten to yet, notably Jekyll and Downton Abbey, as well as working through a stack of comics. Comments on all my writing online has come to a standstill.
The most exciting thing that’s happened in the past week was getting pretty needlessly upset at a friend, which, of course, I feel just wonderful about, even after apologizing. Not worth getting into here.
This means a lot--took me, like, five whole minutes in MS Paint. Forgive me?
I did stop at the campus library though, and after my initial disappointment that they hadn’t a single graphic novel, I picked up two books about debunking popularized legends and phenomena that can be relatively easily disproved. The author is an ex private detective and magician, and writes in a way that is not only interesting, but funny at times, so they’ve kept me going. Already through one, diving into the second.
I’ll try to find something to write about this coming week. Wish me luck.
There’s The Show I’ve Been Looking For!
So, over the course of this past week that I have been away from school (I’m trying hard to avoid the phrase “stuck at home”, as I happen to be enjoying it more here than at school), I’ve been having heaps of media to digest and regurgitate. First on the list: the mound of comics I’ve begun to amass after a good trip to our renown shop and the local library (a great deal of lovely material, I might add). I must say I’m lucky to have a friend who knows where the good stuff is–when the guy cashing your selection complements your (or her, in this case) taste, you know you’ve done well. But that’s a story for another day.
Next: newfound novel idea and other writings. Yes, I’ve finally found myself a new idea and have begun edging my way through bits and pieces of it, primarily early plot ideas and a first, establishing chapter. I’m still trying to get a firm hold on these characters, and the roles they will play, but we’re getting there. The only problem is, though, that while I like writing it, I like it in the same way I like writing fan fiction–it’s fun, but I don’t feeling like I’ve quite found the premise that I’m really going to fall in love with. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever had that. Hm. A problem arises. My other short fan fiction story (that I was enticed into attempting) is going remarkably well. I’m two chapters ahead of schedule as of tonight and I’m enjoying the plot.
But onto the most important item on today’s list, my new favorite show: Sherlock! Browsing the internet, I realize I probably should have gotten to that on my Netflix list months ago, when I first saw it, as I am remarkably late to the party (seems to happen to me a lot). Luckily, I had some further advice to approach it from a reputable source, and so I dove in and well . . . where to start? This show is fantastic, and that’s coming from a jaded snob such as myself. Hour thirty long episodes with the sharpest of writing and acting paired with excellent production values would be lovely to begin with, but it seems to go much farther than that, repeatedly throwing a satisfying and challenging mystery at me to unravel, keeping me on edge with juxtaposing tension and sweet humor, and consistently teasing me with a delightful Sherlock/Watson relationship. In terms of scope and scale, it perfectly reprises the famous stories of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, throwing their own twists on their tellings through the use of a well utilized modern setting and a subtle use of metaphor and implied themes to communicate much of what was blatant plot in the originals.
I’ve just finished the final episode they’ve released thus far, and it’s one that’s managed to bring me both nearly to tears and to rib-bursting laughter all the while flooring me with tension. Simply unbelievable what they did with it. Thank God I caught it before it was over, so we didn’t have another X-Files situation.
Sad to say though, that my sleep cycle hasn’t fared well these past couple days. It started out well–asleep by 12:30 AM, up between 7 and 11 AM, allowing me time to get stuff done at normal human times, but the past few . . ugh. I’ve had good starts, but I end up watching something, or reading something, and next thing I know, it’s four or five in the morning and I know I can either sleep late into the afternoon, or try to stay up as long as I can. Unfortunately, the latter has been the more favorable option due to scheduling, so even now, as the night draws to a close, I feel my body slowly being sapped of life. The cure? I hate coffee, but I might have to go there. *Shudder*.
Well, hopefully you lot are faring well and are enjoying the last bits of your weekends–mine’s probably as sapped as I am as of now. Dear God, my social life has become boring since I became single. Enough about me, though, go enjoy yourselves.
