Entertainment Geekly is a weekly column that examines pop culture through a geek lens and simultaneously examines contemporary geek culture through a pop lens. So many lenses! This week there are two columns inspired by True Detective, partially because True Detective was a thought-provoking TV show which deserves a significant amount of thoughtful analysis, but mainly because I missed a column last week. Today: A consideration of where the show’s ending fits into the pantheon. Tomorrow: A meditation on the show’s meaning, or lack thereof. Spoilers follow.
True Detective only ran for eight episodes, but the final episode carried series-finale weight and expectation. Maybe it’s because the show dominated the Sunday-drama chatter during a cold hibernating winter. History will record that True Detective filled the dead air between Breaking Bad and Game of Thrones. (History will also record that House of Cards filled the dead air between True Detective episode 4 and True Detective episode 5.) Maybe it’s because the show always carried itself like an eight-season serial crammed into a miniseries: The characters aged across the decades, and they had the kind of deep-dive psychological conversations that give so many foreign action movies a bigger-on-the-inside body mass.
I’m not sure there’s really a consensus on the True Detective finale. Our TV critic Jeff Jensen liked it; I was underwhelmed; your opinions may vary. Although it only ran for a couple of months, the final hour of the show was a prime example of a very specific kind of ending: The closing act of a massive years-long epic-sized symbol-laden that had to answer a whole host of lingering questions, some of which were left unanswered, possibly because the creators didn’t have an answer or didn’t even know there was a question. (Martin’s daughter was such a Cindy.) READ FULL STORY