Monday, October 27, 2008

And Also, Killer Theme Tune. Double Bass: Approved!

Finally, I am one-fifth caught up with the respectable human race. I have completed watching season one of the The Wire. I will now add my tiny, insignificant voice to the countless millions of others on this here internet to tell you thisly: Oh, goodness me and saints alive, it's good. It's really, really good. It's complicated, it's multi-layered, the characters are complex, there are no black and white areas, it's all shades of grey. And it treats the viewer like adults, for the love of money. No "previously on...", no "next time...", no horrendously clunky "you're my sister/brother/mistress and I love you, but..." expositional dialogue - you have to concentrate, and keep track of the intricate, weaving-y lines of plot, and remember all these hundreds of faces fading in and out of the story, but it's so totally worth it. In summary, it's taut, tight television, trimmed of all extraneous flab and feculence. I'm dreading going back to 24 after this. It's gonna seem like hallucinatory cartoon full of big, violent, idiotic bears.

Anyway, that's all that, and now I have the next four series to look forward to, once they eventually filter through the thousands of other deserving Lovefilm bastards who got there before me. Buying the DVD boxsets is entirely not an option, for I am nothing if not a complete drama glutton, and I would hoover through the whole lot in a weekend. But this way the pleasure can be eked out over months and months, slowly building to a shuddering climax and immediate sticky emptiness and depression that it's all over. Oh, ew. Sorry about that. See, now I'm convincing myself that I shouldn't watch the rest of it to protect myself from the horror of the aftermath. Also, I think I may have put myself off participating in any kind of sexy shenanigan for life. Nevertheless! Here's the dangerfield with The Wire: spoilers. It's a peculiar feeling, as generally, I'm so used to knowing almost exactly what's going to happen in TV before it happens, I'd almost forgotten how to process new audio-visual information streaming into my bonce so it doesn't shatter my brain, but I wanted to come at this spoiler-free. Alas, I was warned by wise old owls who've seen them all. "Don't look anything up," they cooed from afar. "Don't google it, don't look the actors up on imdb, don't read anything, cos it'll spoil it for you." And I've been trying so hard! I really have! But it's too hard! This blaaady show appears to be everywhere! One bit was my fault, I'd admit. I foolishly thought that, as I'd seen it before, I could look up Charlie Brooker's Screenwipe review on YouTube, but within ten seconds of the clip starting, I'd seen footage of a photo of a dead body of someone who was very much alive and vibrant where I'd got up to. Hooray for spending the next five episodes just waiting for him to get shot! But others...I mean, I opened a magazine, saw it had a relevant article, immediately snapped it shut with the lightning reflexes of a ninja. But not before I'd got a glance at the accompanying picture, wherein McNulty was rocking some kind of low-level policing uniform, instead of his usual detective-schmo suit. Bam! Now I know he's demoted. Fuck fuck fuck! WILL THESE TORTURES NEVER END?!

Oh, lord in all the heavens, it's good that it's turned into autumn suddenly. Now I have a legitimate reason to stay indoors and obsess about these tiny specks of gravel on the great boulevard of life. Lo, are they the headlights of the wasted life lorry looming towards me...?

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