True Detective

Series 2: Below are my observations after watching series 1 a second time, so now I will briefly enter thoughts after rewatching Series 2. I can’t say I enjoyed much of this season. I should point out that it is great drama; it grabs you by the throat and moves you along through the river of violence and betrayal and prolific cursing. (I am known to drop an occasional F-bomb as are my friends and family, but if they all did it this much my Thanksgivings would be quiet ones without company). Plus I was hard-pressed to find people to root for here. The few I liked had little or no power and were, like me, just along for the ride. And I found it ironic that, populated with the modern flawed anti-heroes we get a lot in modern dramatic thrillers or cop shows, there seemed to be an old fashion tendency for arranging fit endings for characters, like a sprawling morality play. But this is typical HBO fare: rather addictive even as I grumbled about my minor complaints above. Series 1: I recently re-watched the first series of True Detective many years after watching the first time. I don’t know if I will watch the subsequent two series again, and they are unrelated to the first series anyway, so each series should be reviewed separately. So taking series one on its own, I found it to be great entertainment, despite the presence of a massive, walking and talking stereotype. I refer to one of the two lead detectives. Woody Harrelson’s detective Marty Hart is sort of a cliche character, straight out of many other police procedural mystery series. He checks off several boxes of that two-dimensional role: cheats on wife yet applies his violent double standard at the thought of her doing it, drinking too much, breaking the law to further his investigation, with his anger always near the surface. But I like Woody Harrelson and he does give a textured and layered performance, his sense of humor and how he cares about the plight of people he encounters (except his family, of course), helped me forget much of the time how thinly drawn his character seemed. Of course, Mather McConaughey’s character is the opposite: he is complex, always philosophizing, capable of violence when needed but always in control. They are the odd couple of detective partnerships and they are conversely always at odds with each other while still having each other’s back professionally. The plot is suitably complex enough to maintain interest over eight episodes, though I found the subplot with the motorcycle gang almost felt like action filler material even though it ultimately advances the investigation. And I was vaguely disappointed in the ensemble cast, particularly the rest of the detective team. We learn nothing about them as they lumber through the scenes. The women in the detectives’ lives are sporadically interesting when they stand up for themselves. I found myself wishing that McConoughey’s doctor girlfriend character would get expanded and filled in, but ultimately this series is about the two main men and how the actions of others affect them. And of course, being an HBO original, you have the prerequisite amount of sex and female nudity. But season one is definitely compelling viewing, in the way The Sopranos was, however much one similarly lamented the excessive violence involved.