My Review of True Detective Season 1
Some Deep Thoughts on a Deep Show
Okay, True Detective: you finally got me.
Time, as Matthew McConaughey’s tormented philosopher-dick Rust Cohle (get it? Rust and coal, decay and darkness) reminds us in the show, is a flat circle, which is why I was stunned to realize this show debuted ten years ago. I thought it came out a few years ago! The writer and creator, 48-year old Nic Pizzolatto, is an acquaintance of some friends and is apparently “based,” so I always meant to watch his show but life, uh, finds a way to get in the way.
In my defense, I am not a TV watcher anymore. I used to be a television garbage can, consuming whatever was on, including reality shows. This stopped when I started having babies and I became much more picky with my time investment in stupid series. After The Sopranos ended, I quit watching live TV. The only shows since then I’ve watched in their entirety, and only by binging them after they came out, are: Game of Thrones, Breaking Bad, and The Crown.
