I awoke this morning in a fetal position clutching a stuffed, plush bald eagle. I am not sure how it made it’s way into my bed, (no, don’t get excited, no one has stuffed animal fetishes around here) but I am glad I had it considering the nightmares brought on by the season finale of True Detective (HBO) last evening. Yep, I skipped the Walking Dead for this one…but for good reason.
If you haven’t tuned in, let me take a minute to try to convince you. Although, please note this is EXACTLY the type of show that my friend’s therapist told her to tell me to stop watching during one of her “pass through therapy” sessions. The underlying crime of The Spaghetti Monster are disgustingly horrific, but there are so many more intertwining story lines. Scandal and cover up, torrid affairs, dancers, crystal meth, any type of deviancy you want to name, faulty and haunted characters. Be prepared to cower under the decorative blanket that matches your drapery during the last breathtaking scenes of the series.
I would tell you that this is the first time that I would consider actual acting out of Matthew McConaughy (simmer down, I haven’t seen Dallas Buyers Club yet)- he is usually just eye candy with the same accent in some rom-com. As always, Woody Harrelson makes you just want to adopt him, though his character is far more complex and broken than you envision after the first few shows.
For your next binge watch, try to contract the flu, make a nest in your bed and consider True Detective. It goes on the Mt. Rushmore of Cable TV shows, along with The Wire (debatable, but The Husband insists) The Sopranos, and Breaking Bad…..did you watch it?