Monday, September 14, 2009

True Blood, Season Two


Following the finale of season 2, I realized that, despite it's shortcomings (and Oh, there are many,) True Blood hasn't quite reached Heroes caliber Shark Jumping territory yet. However, for a show with a premise as compelling as this, I've found myself only compelled to change the channel due to the overwhelming sense of boredom I feel during at least 50% of each episode. If it weren't followed by a better show (Hung,) I may not have tuned in at all after the first 3 or 4 episodes of its sophomore season.

The plot lines are consistent, if not begrudgingly slow. This is an hour long show that would benefit greatly from a run-time reduction to a 30 minute drama. All that would be lost is extended scenes of Sookie and Bill cooing at each other. Though these doldrums are thankfully offset by the meat and potatoes of the second season arcs involving the Fellowship of the Sun (sadly concluding at the halfway point,) and the gradual moral degradation of the citizens of Bon Temps by the Maenad, Maryann.

Alan Ball knocked it out of the park with Six Feet Under, though I feel that he's either only partially invested in True Blood or is terribly misinterpreting the material. The real world gravity that gave SFU poignancy and grace comes across clumsily and silly in the supernatural realm of Bon Temps. The romance is utterly tepid, stagnant and uninteresting. You'd think that an oiled up Fabio graced the paperback covers of the source material. To its credit there are a fair amount of truly frightening scenes, mostly brought about by Maryann's brainwashed orgy-victims toward the latter half of the season.

The over-romanticizing of the Vampire seems to be the point in which the fan-base has flourished. Whatever happened to the ruthless, bloodthirsty, carnivorous and ultimately EVIL vampires of last century like Nosferatu, Chris Sarandon from Fright Night and the gangs from both Near Dark and The Lost Boys? We could trace this trend all the way back to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, introducing the concept of tamable bloodsuckers, but even Angel/Angelus and Spike maintained a certain amount of viscera amid their broody heroism, or were at least several steps beyond one-dimensional. Bill Compton remains the chivilrous goody-goody (a hornier version of the despicable Twilight character, Edward Cullen *gag*) while Sookie Stackhouse reacts to him about as realistically as an oversexed teenager. Their relationship has no real weight, I don't believe for a second that either of them is actually in love with the other. Bill's affections for Sookie seem little more than an overly manipulative several-night-stand and Sookie buys completely into his act based solely on hormones and little else. Also, Anna Paquin's underwhelming performance creates an all around unlikable heroine (and all-around world's worst psychic) and if it weren't for supporting cast members (the likes of Eric Northman, Sam Merlotte and Lafayette Reynolds) the show would likely be a wash.

The world in itself is interesting enough without having to resort to trashy romance novel camp, hopefully the writing staff will realize this come season 3 next year. Needless to say, if there's nothing better on, I'll keep watching.



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