The Walking Dead

This is one of those shows with a massive audience of mostly casual watchers. I don't imagine a ton of critics swooning over it, or passionate filmmakers deciphering it in lectures at universities, unless it's a class related to makeup. A ton of people have dropped it, and people have varying opinions on the story. I binge-watched all 11 seasons of it in a matter of a few weeks, and I have to say, it was an excellent experience.

Each episode has about 45 minutes to an hour in it, the first season had 6 episodes, the second one had thirteen (unlucky eh?), S03-S09 had 16 eps each, and finally, while S010 had 23, S011 had a whopping 26 episodes. Safe to say, it's a hefty show. I will also admit that the binging experience is reportedly far better than week to week, due to a variety of reasons. A little context: The Walking Dead was originally an American comic book by one Robert Kirkman. It then spawned a series of successful story-focused video games by Tell Tale studios, among other things. The show in question was produced by AMC, the same studio behind legendary IPs like Breaking Bad and Mad Men.

While those two shows won a variety of accolades, I don't see a lot of them coming this way. Personally, I adore this show. It was an intense ride from beginning to end, with tons of memorable scenes and a massive scale of production. There are a number of lovable characters powered by superb performances and half-decent writing. At the end of the day, most of the show's criticisms can be attributed to the writing itself. Although Kirkman's comicbook seems great enough (I have not read it), the show suffered from a number of problematic troupes that undermined its own narrative and themes. The unnecessary and brutal killing of characters for pure shock value being the most problematic of all.

I can see from the perspective of new writers who would come to the show, that it's the survival horror genre and that anyone can die at any time. Nothing signified that mindset better than a certain beloved character's demise in S09. While they justifiably felt the need to showcase this idea, they couldn't kill of main characters without losing the entire story, although they certainly tested those limits to the furthest extent, far more than I have seen elsewhere. What's interesting is a certain behind-the-scenes context from the beginnings of the show that sheds a lot of light on the origin of this disastrous troupe. The first season of the show, which only had six episodes, was both written and directed by showrunner Frank Darabont. The man had also written and directed a couple of throwaway films called The Shawshank Redemption and The Mist, perhaps you've heard of them.

Well, Frank apparently wrote the script and handed it to the actors six months before shooting began. Judging by the final episode of the season, it's clear that the man had some big plans for the overall story, since he was foreshadowing something horribly traumatic. Safe to say he knew what he was doing. The series was quite successful and things were looking up for survival horror. Then came time for season two. I would imagine Frank put a certain level of thought and effort into his creative process, the results speak for themselves through his body of work. Apparently, he had some big ideas for the story and the scale of the whole thing. Unfortunately, during the production of season 2, Frank left due to unknown reasons. The typical story would be creative differences, but I think AMC might've had their hands full and were looking for something that could actually make them money. 

Say what you want about their other shows, but Breaking Bad was dark and Mad Men was different. Both were character-driven stories for mature audiences, whereas the zombie genre had a much larger appeal. I can imagine some executives at AMC making a perfectly valid commercial decision to stretch out this franchise, and juice the IP for all it was worth. Speaking of IP, while their other shows were actually original, this one was based on a comic book, so I'm sure there were also some licensing expenses to consider. Long story short, from what I can tell, while Mr. Frank wanted to make a piece of art, AMC probably wanted to make some money. For a studio that's done so much, I don't really blame them, I mean last time I checked, they don't give massive cash prizes to award winners, or any cash prizes for that matter. Ultimately, an artist is motivated to create the best story possible, but their success hinges on their track record and reputation.

For a director the most important thing is their image and the feeling people have when they hear their names. From the outside it might seem vain to go after awards and accolades, but if an artist wants to keep practicing their craft indefinitely, it's one of the few external things that can truly help them do so. So it's a worthy goal for the artist, but for the studio that manages the production, the situation is far more bleak. They are tasked with an almost impossible mission to turn art into profit. A vast majority of people don't want to think or take stress about their recreation. They just want to switch off their brain and escape into a different world for a while, until they recharge their batteries, so to speak. Meanwhile, money is their means of survival. The two just don't mix very well. It's so easy to villanize studios as heartless business folk, but you can't have high production, without god damned production. Say what you want, but James Cameron's Avatar wouldn't exist if it wasn't for this big money, and if TWD was fan-made, you would certainly be able to tell just by looking at it. 

That's how I feel about the situation, but the bond between a team of storytellers runs deep. Which is why the atmosphere on set was quite different. A few of the actors pretty much waged a war against the studio for running the project without Frank. Famously, Jeffery Demunn, the actor who played Dale, essentially said that if Frank's going, then he's going with him, and that's exactly what ended up happening. That's right, Dale's death, one of the first and most devastating deaths on the show, was actually haphazardly written in because of these behind-the-scenes conflicts. Jon Bernthal (Shane) was the next casualty, and Sarah Wayne Callies (Lori Grimes) presumably became the next sacrifice by next season. From what I understand, Lori, Shane, and Dale also died in the comic books, so there's that. But then again, Darryl didn't exist in the book and Carol also died early on. It's easy to imagine how the backlash from these actors could've compromised their position with the studio. 

Ultimately, Frank wrote about half of the second season and someone else picked up the reins from then on. In my experience of the show, the first season only laid the foundation, the second season slowed things down in terms of scale, and the third season onwards had a pretty consistent experience along with those telltale issues alluded to earlier. Now these things are quite complex and ultimately only the ones in the writer's room knew the actual story, but I can imagine how future showrunners might have been influenced by these earlier debacles. Compare it to Breaking Bad and Mad Men, those shows had Vince Gilligan and Matt Weiner from beginning to end. You do need a certain direction for a story of this kind of scale to remain consistent, but judging from AMCs execution of TWD IP, it's clear that they were more interested in scaling it far beyond that. Consider the fact that TWD has over six different spin offs as proof.

Something had to give, and quality was put aside in favor of quantity. A bulk of the show had many highs and lows, but a lot of it kind of canceled out to an above-average level, in my opinion. So not good, not great, and definitely far off from excellent, but definitely worth my while. The most frustrating thing for me as a big fan was what could have been. I watched the entire thing on Netflix, but I don't want to get anywhere near the spin-offs, especially after my experience with Darryl Dixon. Plus, the story has passed certain points of no returns. It's still exceptionally well made in so many ways, I feel like they nailed the editing and greatly improved the overall visuals, but the writing issues have poisoned the well for me, as for many others. Ultimately, I had a great time with the show, and more than anything else, I'm interested in why that is. Beyond the cautionary tale for other creators, the whole franchise and its massive appeal have something far more pertinent to say.

It's not just the survival horror genre, but zombie apocalypses in general that inspires something primal and palpable in people. Modern life feels so far away from its origins that we all feel disconnected from our instincts. I think that's why Zom 100: Bucket List of The Dead and Zombieland are so appealing. There's a very real feeling that life would be better if the world as we know it came to an end. If that's not something worth getting into, I don't know what is. Now I want to take some time to explore this issue, and reflect upon some serious ways to practically address it in real life. To some extent, the appeal of a post-apocalyptic world might have something to do with the urge for the good old days. The grass is always greener, and anything tastes better than the present. So I wouldn't be surprised if most of it was pure delusion. But let's humor it and go beyond that. A few possibilities immediately come to mind. For one, we live in an increasingly uncertain world where threats are becoming harder and harder to manage.

Most of the problems we have to deal with nowadays have to do with systematic issues, behaviors of other people, corruption, and so on. You can't really do anything about them by yourself. They aren't things you can simply tackle, deal with, or run away from. Plus the future is also completely unknown. We might get hit by an asteroid, or we might evolve into a utopian society. We might get cyborgs and extended lives through technology, or we might all become sterile and unable to breathe. With an increasing awareness of so many things, you can't help but feel all over the place. If it all comes crashing down, at least we will have simpler times once again. No need to worry about tomorrow when you have to make it through to a safe place right now. You have to always be on the lookout, ready for anything, because tension is always high and very real tangible threats are all around you. You either make it to a safe place, make a stand and fight for your life, run away, or die. 

As extreme as that is, it's just more suited to our constitution/temperament as animals. It's so much easier to fight real threats for survival and put your life on the line than it is to grapple with ghosts in luxurious castles. We're drowning in this fucking gross excess and we don't know what to do with ourselves. I myself have tried so much to artificially impose difficulties on my head, but god damn it's nothing like a hoard chasing behind you. Then there's another thing, zombies are slow enough to outrun, but unstoppable in huge numbers. So there are many possibilities in terms of dealing with them. They are just threatening enough to be taken seriously, but not enough to prove truly terrifying or bone-chillingly paralysing. In simpler terms, there is worthwhile challenge and difficulty, but there is also plenty of hope just around the corner. The bigger problems are people and resources. Now this is tricky because it brings us back to present-day problems in some ways, but not exactly.

I think the upside of this part is that in times of crisis, we are forced to rely on each other. On one hand, the worst in people comes out on full display as the rule of the law disappears. Scavengers, rapists, cannibals, and all kinds of brutes galore. People do whatever they want, the weak are now at the mercy of the strong. Gangs organized around cut throat ideals easily overpower the few who remain. Everyone is forced to harden their hearts and prepare for the worst of all possibilities, if they want to live. On the other hand, anyone half decent who you could trust to not cut your throat in your sleep now becomes much more than a reliable stranger or companion. Anyone who is incapable of such betrayal becomes more than family, they become a part of your tribe. In many ways it's also a liberation from the constant facades, politics, and appearences of modern life. It's also a simplification of social dynamics.

While things are more blunt and brutal, and there is a severe lack of security, at least what you see is what you get and most situations become clear-cut rather than complicated. Of course, there's also the idea that some people believe they would actually excel at the game of survival, where they are unable to excel at the complexities of modern day society. More than practical prowess, today's world seems to reward smoke and mirrors, indirect games of power, and conniving strategem. The one with a thousand faces and ruthless cunning can survive, if they are able to painstakingly gather the right skills and resources in the right order. And that's barely scratching the surface. I suppose those last points are same for both, but at least in the apocolaypse there is way less competition. We all can really feel this sense fo suffocation as well, scrambling to gain the advantage in a sea of random people, and everything in general feels so discouragingly random too. 

To sum things up, we all long for some simplicity, clarity, and connection, and the destruction of the current world seems to be a good step to gaining a chance at those values. The show itself seemed to make frequent attempts at much more pertainent themes, but unfortunately I feel like it truly failed at saying anything coherent. A mid-story point about the fact that we were all zombies before the apocalypse migth've proved more meaningful than the vague as hell, "We're the walking dead...." "We ain't them. wE AiN't ThEm!" "No we ain't, no we ain't them...." Um what the fuck? And by the end it became we're the ones who live. Kind of boring to make the whole thing about what it takes to survive in the wild, which is essentially what that meant. It's the glorification of the frontier and the ones who conquered it first. The whisperers become like Indians in that context, which is problematic in its own right.

I reckon there was a great opportunity about the power of relationships, knowledge, combined human resource, and technology, but the show barely alluded to those things, and totally shat on doctors as a whole. Medical science was simply taken for granted, even though there was an outbreak in season 3. All in all, this was an extremely ambitious story of a scale too massive for it's own good. In terms of quality, it could've benefited from being cut down to 8 seasons and having some coherent subtext. Yet all things considered, it was still a commendable effort in terms of writing. As for the profitability of the series, only the folks at AMC can say whether or not they made the correct decisions. Personally, I lost all faith in the IP's ability to deliver and I have no plans to watch any of the spin offs through official means. 

I can also honestly say that the entire story left me feeling somewhat satisfied when the show ended, but immensely dissappointed as time went on and as I imagined what could've been. I'm quite certain that Mr. Frank Daramont would've absolutely killed it and the zombie genre as a whole would've been so much better for it. Instead, the public has become totally jaded from the idea of a zombie apocalaypse and it's lending itself far better to comdey and parody than it is to survival horror. 

Writing: 2.5/10 (reduced due to the availability of existing material)

Direction: 6/10 (effective and consistent with tone but incoherent in terms of storytelling)

Acting: 7.5/10 (exceptional performances by Danny McBride, Andrew Lincon, Jon Bernthal, & Norman Reedus)

Sound Design: 6/10 (forgettable but very effective)

Visuals: 7.5/10 (awesome special effects and mind-blowing make up, costume design, and props. Effective cinematography, but nothing special) 

Overall: 6.5/10 (Worth a one-time watch) 

Rewatchability: 5/10 (the palpable lack of subtext despite the potential leaves little need for revisiting the show)

Memorable: 7/10 (the high stakes paired with the progressive momentum of the story yeilds a significantly memorable experience.)