HBO’s finale to True Detective hasn’t seen this much controversy since the end of The Sopranos, which is fitting, because both ended on anticlimactic notes. Throughout its eight-year run, The Sopranos suggested that death was sudden blackness, an unexpected and unexplained exit from existence. To prove the point, Sopranos capped its own fans, ending the series in such sudden darkness viewers thought their TVs had shorted.
Similarly, the third season of True Detective telegraphed how the whodunnit would end, though that hasn’t stopped Reddit and YouTube pundits from becoming engulfed in anger over the unspectacular conclusion. The real twist to the crime series may be yet to come: whether HBO decides to renew the up-and-down show.
Despite its labyrinthian setup and hint of a vast conspiracy finally explained, Detective ended on the simplest of notes. After two months worth of shows and three and a half decades worth of investigation, Now Am Found revealed that the fates of the Purcell children was barely nefarious: Will died accidentally and Julie ran away and remained alive and happy.
The conclusion sent much of the True Detective fanbase into conniptions; some took to the net minutes after the finale, asking, in essence, WTF? They lamented that the ending didn’t feature a Woody Harrelson or Matthew McConaughey cameo from Season 1. They blasted it for wrapping loose ends too quickly (halfway through the episode), too cheerily for a dark series, and too bizarrely with a final scene of Wayne Hayes back in the jungles of Vietnam.
But that may have been creators Nic Pizzolatto’s point all along, one he hinted at in Episode 2, Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye. In that episode, the show referenced the Franklin child prostitution allegations, a reference that sent conspiracy fans and the character Elisa Montgomery, a documentary true-crime filmmaker, scrambling to solve a vast conspiracy.
The Franklin case was a true incident that began in June 1988 in Omaha, Nebraska, when authorities looked into allegations that prominent citizens of Nebraska, as well as high-level U.S. politicians, were involved in a child prostitution ring. Alleged abuse victims were interviewed, who claimed that children in foster care were flown to the East Coast to be sexually abused at “bad parties.” The case attracted significant public and political interest until late 1990, when separate state and federal grand juries concluded that the allegations were unfounded and the ring was a “carefully crafted hoax.”
Still, the conspiracy remains. And even the book that it inspired, The Franklin Cover-up: Child Abuse, Satanism, and Murder in Nebraska, became reference fodder for fans seeking clues to the show.
Which may explain why the True Detective finale disappointed so many. From the JFK assassination to the 9/11 attacks to fictional crime dramas, it’s tough to accept that profound misfortune can result from commonplace events or simple bad luck. It’s easier (and more cinematic) to discover a massive conspiracy behind massive devastation.
And that was True Detective‘s point in the half-hour wrap up, as characters tried to reconcile the deaths and decimated relationships borne of a simple, tragic, traffic accident. Viewers learned that Isabel Hoyt, the wife of produce magnate Edward Hoyt, lost her daughter in a car crash. Devastated, she grew attached to Julie Purcell, became obsessed, and, after going off her meds, abducted her. With the help of groundskeeper Junius Watts and several nuns, Julie eventually escaped to go on to live a normal life. Not the crescendo viewers expected.
Even the characters admitted disappointment at the anticlimactic ending. As Wayne and wife Amelia meet at a bar to discuss what went wrong in their relationship, Wayne admits, “There’s always been this big secret between us,” he says. “It’s all tied up in a dead boy and a missing girl.” They agree that a date night won’t fix their problems, but Wayne tells her to go write her next book and they will move on together. “Let’s put this thing down,” says Wayne. “It’s not ours.”
Even the final scene was a red herring in a series chock full of them (for what is a conspiracy theory but the pursuit of inconsequential evidence?). Wayne is back in the jungle of Vietnam because he suffers from Alzheimer’s, a common disease that robs its victims of associating place and time.
It’s unclear whether HBO will be more swayed by ratings or reactions in determining the fate of another installment of True Detective, whose second season was lambasted by fans and critics alike. Regardless, Pizzolatto succeeded in making the point he began raising in 2014 when the show premiered: Time, indeed, is a flat circle.
I’ve never been much on attack ads, Political Action Committees or cliches, especially in U.S. politics.
Alas, it may be time to embrace all of them. In fact, it may be the only time.
As demonstrated in the terrific documentary Get Me Roger Stone, the GOP has been masterful at whisper campaigns, PAC money laundering and sloganeering. How else to explain that our last two Republican presidents managed to take office despite not winning the popular vote? (If the Dems do win enough of the two branches of government and do not eliminate the electoral college — an antiquated concession to appease slave states after the Civil War — they will deserve its consequences.)
But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. The Dems’ first goal has to be 2020. And never have they been more poised to claim it.
Consider: The Democrats have never been a more diffused enemy to target, nor the Republicans a more unified one. So why not start the attack ads now?
The reasoning is simple math. The Dems are looking at the most crowded slate of presidential hopefuls in the party’s history. And it’s too early to begin ads from any of them for fear of voter fatigue. But that’s an advantage; it makes a smear against any of them impossible.
Republicans, on the other hand, have become victims of political singularity: The Donald. Challengers have either died, retired, or quietly become supplicants of the inbred tanning bed.
So why not start sowing the seeds of discontent now against Trump, which would be a shotgun blast at the GOP writ large. Liberals have free reign to use PAC money to point out the broken promises of the president, with no singular target vulnerable to a return volley. What would a GOP ad do? Attack Nancy Pelosi or Chuck Schumer? There’s no indication either will even seek the Democratic nomination.
You don’t even need a narrator for the ads.
Picture this: a prime-time, 30-second spot simply replaying a broken promise Trump has made, followed by a headline or news clip showing the reality of truth. There would be so many to choose from you’d run out of PAC money before you could address them all. (Speaking of which, while you’re at it, change the acronym, Dems. Instead of Political Action Committee, already seen as a scourge, why not Public Action Committees?)
Sample ads could include:
Trump’s promise that Mexico would pay for a border wall. Then cut to any number of rebuttals, from Mexico laughing at the proposal of Trump proudly — and publicly — announcing he’d take the mantle of shutting down the U.S. government if Congress won’t force taxpayers to foot the bill.
Trump’s public denial of global warming. Then cut to the 17 TRUMP-run agencies declaring it real. Or footage of a state on fire.
Or underwater.
Or Trump’s promise of a tax cut, along with his oath of a simpler tax form.
Follow that with the new IRS study showing refunds declined 17% in 2018.
Or the promise of bringing jobs back to America. Abutted against, among others, Harley-Davidson’s announcement of moving abroad because of tariffs.
Or his pledge of hiring “only the best” advisers, trailed by mugshots of Trump campaign staff charged, indicted or already in prison.
The options are endless. And the precedent already set: Remember the Brett Kavanaugh support TV commercials? And the guy wasn’t even running for office.
At the end of each ad, end with Trump’s most notorious lie: the promise that voters would win so much they’d get sick of it.
After the clip, simply end with the tagline: SICK OF ‘WINNING’ YET?
Throw a punch back, Dems. You already struggle with a mealy mouth reputation, a stigma that has likely cost you myriad elections. Yes, it would require embracing the demons of American politics: negative ads and PAC money. But you already do, just too late in the game. Sometimes it’s better to own the pit bull than be running from it.
And yes, it’s a tired cliche, to fight fire with fire. But as we learned watching innumerable firefighters struggling just to hold their own last year, controlled burns work.
That’s the ugly reality about cliches. All have a kernel of truth. So speak it.
You can tell Netflix is feeling its big-studio oats by the fights it’s accepting.
First came the clash with major Hollywood studios with Roma, which is vying to become the first streaming service film to win Best Picture when the Oscars are handed out February 24. Then it won the bidding war at Sundance for distribution rights to the Ted Bundy biopic Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil, and Vile. And now it’s prepping for a scrape with Disney’s pending streaming service, Disney +.
Netflix officially called off its relationship with the Marvel TV Universe with the cancellation of The Punisher and Jessica Jones Monday, drawing the ire of some fans and stars alike. Eminem took the service to task for dropping Punisher, one of his favorite shows.
In a tweet Wednesday night, the rapper wrote: ‘DEAR @NETFLIX, REGARDING YOUR CANCELLATION OF THE PUNISHER, YOU ARE BLOWING IT!! SINCERELY, MARSHALL”
The cancellations were’t entirely unexpected. Late last year, the streaming giant dropped Daredevil, Luke Cage and Iron Fist. The moves added to a growing fanbase angry at the streaming service; fans launched an online campaign, #SaveDaredevil, to keep the show afloat, as its prospects on Disney+ are uncertain.
But data suggests that Netflix was warranted to cancel The Punisher. Viewership for the show dropped 40% from 2017’s first season to last month’s second season in their first weekends of release, according to data from analytics company Jumpshot.
Beyond individual shows, however, the fates of the programs underscore a larger strategic battle brewing between Netflix and Disney. Disney CEO Bob Iger has called the Disney+ streaming service the company’s “biggest priority” for 2019, and said the studio has for months planned a divorce from Netflix so it can launch its own service as the exclusive streaming home for Disney movies, TV shows and other original programming.
Marvel TV President Jeph Loeb penned a letter thanking the hundreds of cast and crew who worked on all the shows, from Daredevil onwards, and the fans for watching. Loeb also teased that the characters could return in the distant future, but in what capacity remains to be seen.
“Our Network partner may have decided they no longer want to continue telling the tales of these great characters,” Loeb wrote, “but you know Marvel better than that. As Matthew Murdock’s Dad once said, ‘The measure of a man is not how he gets knocked to the mat, it’s how he gets back up.’”
Netflix’s strategy, meanwhile, seems to have shifted its cross-hairs to another outlet, Dark Horse Comics. Already, it produced a film from one of Dark Horse’s webcomic and graphic novel series, Polar. And this month the service released the first season of The Umbrella Academy, another Dark Horse venture.
Loeb perhaps best summed up the upcoming battle with the final line of his letter to fans, a three-word promise: “To be continued.”
