You are now departing The Night Country
Feb. 19th, 2024 09:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
finefoxyladiesTrue Detective: Night Country has concluded. And I still haven't seen the 1st, well-known season, nor the 2nd apparently very shitty season. I DID watch the 3rd season with Mahershala Ali and Stephen Dorff and a performance by Scoot McNairy that I still find myself thinking about. Anyway, now I've watched this 4th season too. I have yet to participate in the discourse, but here we are. What is a blog for if not to discourse?
While I appreciate the focus on and intersectionality of women's issues, indigenous issues, and environmental issues, I feel like the goals were more ambitious than the series could ultimately pull off. I also had what I'll definitely label a personal, emotional reaction to the puzzling or cloudy way the series addressed mental illness and suicide. I know--I've read the articles that women are misdiagnosed, and women of color more so, with mental illness and are more likely to have their autonomy taken away when safety nets aren't present or are disrupted by the police state, etc. But also, I find it--yes, I'll say it--problematic to sketch a world where mental illness is either conflated with or presented as a better understanding of generational trauma and/or a connectivity to a spiritual world we cannot see. That seems--yes, I'll say it--dangerous.
And I have some questions about how catharsis or "getting in touch with" your grief or the traumatic events of your life take some kind of near-death experience or spiritual reckoning. I mean, even for a dramatic series about philosophy, that seems... broad? Maybe I'm feeling defensive because I have not had a made-for-tv moment where I Moved Forward and Felt My Trauma Heal. I feel like it's both this high impact shattering and a banal sort of commitment to putting one foot in front of the other that didn't result in me becoming a hard-bitten alcoholic who is having multiple affairs and really aggressive teeth-baring sex with Christopher Eccleston or that super handsome guy playing Qaavik.
Anyway, this show is done, and I'll maybe try the second episode of Sandman? I don't know.
While I appreciate the focus on and intersectionality of women's issues, indigenous issues, and environmental issues, I feel like the goals were more ambitious than the series could ultimately pull off. I also had what I'll definitely label a personal, emotional reaction to the puzzling or cloudy way the series addressed mental illness and suicide. I know--I've read the articles that women are misdiagnosed, and women of color more so, with mental illness and are more likely to have their autonomy taken away when safety nets aren't present or are disrupted by the police state, etc. But also, I find it--yes, I'll say it--problematic to sketch a world where mental illness is either conflated with or presented as a better understanding of generational trauma and/or a connectivity to a spiritual world we cannot see. That seems--yes, I'll say it--dangerous.
And I have some questions about how catharsis or "getting in touch with" your grief or the traumatic events of your life take some kind of near-death experience or spiritual reckoning. I mean, even for a dramatic series about philosophy, that seems... broad? Maybe I'm feeling defensive because I have not had a made-for-tv moment where I Moved Forward and Felt My Trauma Heal. I feel like it's both this high impact shattering and a banal sort of commitment to putting one foot in front of the other that didn't result in me becoming a hard-bitten alcoholic who is having multiple affairs and really aggressive teeth-baring sex with Christopher Eccleston or that super handsome guy playing Qaavik.
Anyway, this show is done, and I'll maybe try the second episode of Sandman? I don't know.