I'm Still Watching the Walking Dead: A Cry for Help
Dear readers, I have a confession.
Over the past nine years, I've wasted 130 hours of my life on a task that I thoroughly and wholistically do not enjoy. In the distance, I can still see some of those wasted hours drifting away upstream - they’re shouting at me, but I can’t hear them anymore. They’re too far gone. My ears have shrunken inward, and my brain is too calloused for their message.
If I strain just hard enough, I can catch their lips’ movement. My God. They’re wailing.
“Erik. Stop watching The Walking Dead.”
I haven’t stopped, and I can’t because my broken brain is chasing some distant high, a euphoria I haven’t enjoyed since Shane killed Otis seven years ago. Has it really been that long? Do my pleasure synapses have a spark left, or is it all damp kindling, soaked in the putrid, undead piss of lazy show writers and bored actors?
An exhaustive list of what’s wrong with The Walking Dead:
The acting
The writing
The Walking Dead has been sucking my lifeblood for 8 seasons - 132 episodes - and I can count on one hand the times the show has been good for a consecutive 50 minutes.
There’s the aforementioned “Bloodletting” from Season 2, which climaxes with Shane saving himself by capping Otis in the knee, leaving him as bait. “The Cell” from Season 7 is (surprisingly) an astounding episode, and I was on the edge of my ol’ proverbial seat as 2015’s “Thank You” got down to the wire: a hectic run from Walkers leads Glenn and that-one-guy to the top of a dumpster. Surrounded by the dead, what’s-his-face turns to Glenn, softly speaks the name of the episode, and blows wide open his braincap. Covered in cranial jelly, Glenn and the body of who’s-his-name fall into the crowd of Walkers. Intestines are ripped from corpses, and Glenn is assumed dead.
But let’s rewind to Mr. Who’s-that-again.
The Walking Dead, more than any other long-running show to which I’ve given my time, has an obsession with introducing characters, poorly fleshing them out, then killing them. What the fuck was that guy’s name? He almost killed Glenn! I should remember!
Now, a quick recap of the terrific roles we’ve come to enjoy on the AMC original Walking Dead:
Rick: Whose only note to the writers is “Can you make me lower my voice and swing my head back and forth more when I’m negotiating?”
Daryl: Is still trying to be mysterious after eight seasons. WE GET IT. YOU’RE ALOOF.
Ezekiel: Had a tiger but doesn't now.
Gabriel: Actually has no unique character traits, if you think about it.
Beth: A walking cup of tapioca pudding.
Maggie: “I think I should squint and purse my lips more when I’m angry.”
Eugene: A person who is on screen sometimes.
Anyone who is not a part of the original clique: “Why can’t you trust us despite our past?”
Carl: We’ll get to old Pudding Hat McSheriff-Boy later.
And now, onto the writing.
The actors, even when performing well, appear positively bored with the script. The show writers haven’t crafted an engaging, memorable narrative in the last, I don’t know, seven seasons? (It’s been so long. I can barely remember enjoying even half a season, let alone a full one.)
Remember how they spent the entirety of season 4 traveling to Terminus only to have it all come to a resolution in one fucking episode?
Hey guys, we’re here. Boy, I’m tired. The full length of Season 4 sure was a long walk. Woops, they’re cannibals. OK, bye!
How about the Governor, a villain so astoundingly under-developed that in order to make him move evil, they gave him an eyepatch? (A goddamn eyepatch. You know, like a spooky pirate.) Remember dealing with him for two cumulative days of your only life on this Earth?
Remember the evildoers who stormed Alexandria in season 6? Weren't they the cannibals from Terminus? No, dear reader. You’re understandably confused. These dudes wore bandannas over their faces and had W’s etched into their foreheads. Two different sets of breathlessly unremarkable villains.
(By the way, I had to Google those “W” villains just now. Here’s what I searched for: “Walking Dead bad guys with bandannas.” Apparently they were called the “Wolves.” I didn’t remember, and now I don’t care again.)
How about the God awful “Slabtown” story arc from season 5? A rich tapestry in which Ms. Beth Milquetoast, strolls around a hospital and stares blankly at characters we don’t have to remember but on whom the writers will spend at least four precious hours of my life. There’s the unforgettable role of that one hardass cop, and the truly stellar performance of the doctor who was just trying to do some damn good in this devastated world. Does anyone from that hospital survive and join the crew? No. Not even Beth survives. Fuck that entire season. It didn’t matter.
Now, in the most recent two seasons, The Walking Dead has listlessly stumbled back and forth between Hilltop, Alexandria, and the Kingdom, dealing with the same shit at each location, with the same bad characters, and the same stupid resolution.
[Evil thing] threatens normalcy at [Hilltop/Alexandria/Kingdom]. [Rick/Maggie/Carol] fight to keep their people safe, while also grappling with the realization: Is this how life is now?
The whole show is a carousel where the only thing you can ride is the sleigh that doesn't go up and down, and you have to stay on because your mom paid $5, and also the entire thing is on fire and surrounded by quicksand.
The Walking Dead’s wretched writing has to then be parsed down to some of the worst episode titles in modern television history. (Yes, I’m including that fucking stupid Friends naming convention.) Now, naming episodes poorly does not itself make a show terrible, but the writers for The Walking Dead are so bad at it, I can’t let it go unmentioned.
Let’s take a look at some of the worst titles, and then I’ll write a quick pitch about what the episode could be about.
“What Happened and What’s Going On” (2015) - Rick and the survivors try to discern what events have recently taken place, all the while battling the challenges of today.
“The Day Will Come When You Won’t Be” (2016) - Rick, Glenn, and Daryl, realize the day may come when they won’t be.
“Still Gotta Mean Something” (2018) - Jesus, or maybe Maggie, who cares, have to face their greatest obstacle yet: what does it all really mean? (Something?)
“Here’s Not Here” (2015) - The survivors face their biggest challenge: locating themselves.
“Dead or Alive Or” (2018) - Rick and the survivors attempt to complete a sentence.
“How It’s Gotta Be” (2017) - Every story and battle comes crashing together as everything Rick and his group have done will be put to the test.
One of those recaps is real. I’ll let your mind decide which one.
And then, dear readers, there’s Carl.
Chandler Riggs, can I speak to you over here quickly?
Remember at the climax of season 6, when Negan had you pinned down and ordered Rick, your father, the man who gave you life, to sever your arm from your gaunt torso? Remember Andrew Lincoln pouring his blood, tears, and mucus into that performance? At the height of the scene, when the guillotine is about to drop, you turn to him and say:
“Dad, just do it.”
You deliver the line with less gusto than what I put into my regular order at Cold Stone Fucking Creamery. “Cashier, I just GOTTA have it.”
Now we’ve reached the grand conjunction of what makes The Walking Dead truly fucking awful. Dismal writing performed horribly by bad actors. JUST DO IT, the boy muttered to his father, who brandished a ragged hatchet, ready to lop off his own son’s flesh and bone.
JUST PERFORM FUNCTION, FATHER.
The show finally kills Carl in Season 8, but it wasn’t satisfying nor interesting. In the comics, which I haven’t read, Carl does not die. He survives and eventually takes over leadership as Rick ages. So, the AMC writers decided to kill him, in what I can only imagine was a direct order from the channel's CEO to keep people watching.
Well, congratulations, it worked. I'm still watching. Maybe one day, they’ll kill all the characters I hate, which is to stay, all of them.
Until then, like Rick, I’m bearing this burden so others others don’t have to. I can only hope that, like Rick, AMC recognizes my eight years of dedicated service and puts me out of my misery.
(SPOILER ALERT: THEY NEVER FOUND THE BODY. PART TWO OF SEASON 9 COMING FEBRUARY 10.)
