SUSAN ELIA MACNEAL: Remember when all the Jungle Reds were sick and I was the one with pneumonia?
Well, one of the good things to come out of the experience is that I was able to binge-watch TV in a way I never have time to do. And one of the shows I devoured was HBO's True Detective. It premiered last January and you've probably heard of it — an Emmy-winning crime drama starring Woody Harrelson and Matthew McConaughey. It uses multiple timelines and unreliable narrators (one of my favorite plot devices) as two detectives in Louisiana hunt down a serial killer.
It was fantastic.
And it was awful.
I was talking with Hilary about it — and she had the exact same reaction. (So did plenty of television critics as well, including Emily Nussbaum in The New Yorker.)
Online debate proved problematic as women (me, for one) voiced concerns about the misogyny of the series — that all the female characters were there for sex and/or killing. (And that's really it. Few of them even have names.)
Several men took it on themselves to explain to me "how noir works" — basically women are victims. (I called it "mansplaining" — especially because there was a certain patronizing tone involved). None of them seemed to even notice how the female characters were treated — let alone consider it problematic.
But I wasn't convinced. And so I went to Anthony Award-winning novelist Hilary Davidson, who certainly knows her way around noir, to get her take on True Detective.
And here it is.
Well, one of the good things to come out of the experience is that I was able to binge-watch TV in a way I never have time to do. And one of the shows I devoured was HBO's True Detective. It premiered last January and you've probably heard of it — an Emmy-winning crime drama starring Woody Harrelson and Matthew McConaughey. It uses multiple timelines and unreliable narrators (one of my favorite plot devices) as two detectives in Louisiana hunt down a serial killer.It was fantastic.
And it was awful.
I was talking with Hilary about it — and she had the exact same reaction. (So did plenty of television critics as well, including Emily Nussbaum in The New Yorker.)
Online debate proved problematic as women (me, for one) voiced concerns about the misogyny of the series — that all the female characters were there for sex and/or killing. (And that's really it. Few of them even have names.)
Several men took it on themselves to explain to me "how noir works" — basically women are victims. (I called it "mansplaining" — especially because there was a certain patronizing tone involved). None of them seemed to even notice how the female characters were treated — let alone consider it problematic.
But I wasn't convinced. And so I went to Anthony Award-winning novelist Hilary Davidson, who certainly knows her way around noir, to get her take on True Detective.
And here it is.
HILARY DAVIDSON: I’m shameless about my addiction to certain TV shows. I love
The Americans, Sleepy Hollow, Justified,
Orphan Black, Scandal, and Game of
Thrones, and I’ve recommended each one to people in person and online, at
parties and on planes. I’m also quick to make up my mind about shows I don’t
want to watch, jettisoning them after one or two episodes. But HBO’s True Detective, which aired earlier this year, fell somewhere in-between. Watching the first of the series’ eight episodes, I was lured in by the fine performances of the two leads, Woody Harrelson and Matthew McConaughey as police detectives Marty Hart and Rust Cohle. The landscape of backwoods Louisiana was deftly captured in both its lushness and its loneliness. The music that played in the background was a pitch-perfect accompaniment to what was on the screen. I also liked the structure of the show, which cut between a present-day investigation of ritualistic serial murders and a past investigation that estranged the detectives.
Other parts of the episode left me uneasy, starting with the
first murder victim the audience encounters. Her name is Dora Lange, and she’s
notable for the antlers attached to her head and the designs imprinted on her
body. As a crime writer, I’ve got no problem with gory, even graphic,
depictions of violence; what I object to are dehumanized victims whose
suffering is only so much window dressing. Dora Lange’s body was presented as a
fetish object, and what mattered was the ritualistic nature of her death, not
the woman herself.
Still, I kept watching. It was impossible to overlook the
show’s cartoonish, cardboard depictions of women — including Hart’s wife and
mistress — but I had an explanation for that: True Detective was fully aware of how it objectified and exploited
women, and I thought it was offering commentary on how stoic men — like
detectives Hart and Cohle — could grow obsessive in their hunt for a killer so
they could save women, while abusing the women right in front of them.
If you’ve already watched all eight episodes of True Detective’s first season, you know
how stupid I feel about this theory in retrospect. (Spoiler alert: I WAS WRONG.
SO WRONG.) But, just as many viewers went down the rabbit hole with their
Caracosa and Yellow King theories, I clung to mine. Sometimes, I thought the
show was winking at me, such as when Hart gives a teenage prostitute some money
and Cohle accuses him of making a down payment, and Hart has sex with the girl
an episode later. To me, this suggested an arch self-awareness on the part of
the show’s writers, a hint that they had some dark tricks up their sleeves.
(Spoiler alert: They did not.)
There was no incisive commentary. I know you can’t sue a TV show for false advertising, but there should be an exception for True Detective. “Spread the darkness”
urged the show’s clever social-media campaign. “Something deep and dark,”
boasted the show’s Facebook page. Here’s the thing: ultimately, the show had
the depth of a cellophane wrapper, and what darkness it contained was dispersed
in its weirdly feel-good finale. It was, for all intents and purposes, a Hardy
Boys adventure that happened to involve a serial killer and philosophical
ramblings that wouldn’t be out of place in a college dorm between rounds of
beer pong.
What the show did — and did very well — was represent two
men and the demons that drove them. Their relationship was the beating heart of
the show, and it was fun to watch. Hart’s expressions while Cohle spouted
nihilist philosophy were priceless, as were their verbal jousts. I could (and
did) watch Cohle make beer-can dolls for hours. As a buddy show about two misanthropes
who can’t have relationships with other humans, it gets an A+. But it was a letdown on so many other fronts. Strip away the stylish storytelling, and it was hollow at the core. The show hinted at so many intriguing elements (including the possible abuse of one of Hart’s daughters), then pulled away and never mentioned them again. It was frustrating to see so many intriguing layers of the story cast aside without explanation. The truth was that they didn’t matter. It was always about Hart and Cohle. It was only about Hart and Cohle.
That said, I’m curious about Season 2. The show’s creator, Nic
Pizzolatto, has stated that it will have a new cast. There are rumors that one
of the leads will be played by a female actor. If that happens to be true, I’ll
be tuning in again. A female lead won’t erase the missteps of Season 1, but
since the show’s strength was strong writing for its leads, I’d be curious to
see when it’s going.
Otherwise, count me out.
Time may be a “flat circle,” as Cohle claimed while cutting up beer cans, and we may be doomed to do things over and over again, but I reserve the right to make better TV choices in the future.
Hilary Davidson won the 2011 Anthony
Award for Best First Novel for THE DAMAGE DONE. The book also earned a Crimespree Award and was a finalist for the Arthur Ellis and Macavity awards. The sequel, THE NEXT ONE TO FALL, a mystery set in Peru, was published by Forge in February 2012; the third novel in the series, EVIL IN ALL ITS DISGUISES, was published in March 2013. Hilary's first standalone novel, BLOOD ALWAYS TELLS, will be published by Forge in April 2014.Hilary's widely acclaimed short stories have been featured in publications from Ellery Queen to Thuglit, and in many anthologies. She has won a Spinetingler Award for best short story and an Ellery Queen Reader's Choice Award, and she's been a finalist for a Derringer Award. A Toronto-born travel journalist and the author of 18 nonfiction books, she has lived in New York City since October 2001. Visit her online at www.hilarydavidson.com. She also writes the Gluten-Free Guidebook blog: www.glutenfreeguidebook.com.
Otherwise, count me out.
Time may be a “flat circle,” as Cohle claimed while cutting up beer cans, and we may be doomed to do things over and over again, but I reserve the right to make better TV choices in the future.
Hilary Davidson won the 2011 Anthony
Award for Best First Novel for THE DAMAGE DONE. The book also earned a Crimespree Award and was a finalist for the Arthur Ellis and Macavity awards. The sequel, THE NEXT ONE TO FALL, a mystery set in Peru, was published by Forge in February 2012; the third novel in the series, EVIL IN ALL ITS DISGUISES, was published in March 2013. Hilary's first standalone novel, BLOOD ALWAYS TELLS, will be published by Forge in April 2014.Hilary's widely acclaimed short stories have been featured in publications from Ellery Queen to Thuglit, and in many anthologies. She has won a Spinetingler Award for best short story and an Ellery Queen Reader's Choice Award, and she's been a finalist for a Derringer Award. A Toronto-born travel journalist and the author of 18 nonfiction books, she has lived in New York City since October 2001. Visit her online at www.hilarydavidson.com. She also writes the Gluten-Free Guidebook blog: www.glutenfreeguidebook.com.
