Four episodes in and “True Blood” is finally showing a little spark. Thank you, Lilith!
The “True Blood” relationships I am most interested in aren’t the romantic ones. It is the maker/progeny vampire unions that are most fascinating and moving: Eric on his knees, weeping unabashedly at the coming death of Godric; Lorena’s twisted (literally) love-making with Bill; Bill becoming an awkward antebellum dad to modern-day teen Jessica. I’m more concerned about what will become of Pam now that Eric has released her, and how her relationship with her own “child” Tara will develop, than I am in whoever the hell shot Sam’s shifter buddies. (For real, this betta not be yet another plot line.) Eric’s parting with Pam, along with Pam beginning to teach Tara, and gazing at her in her coffin like a new mommy, were among the best scenes of the night.
Of course, Christopher Meloni as Vampire Stabler continues to chew scenery like a rottweiler. Am I the only one who thought his dispatching of that annoying kid Authority member was an homage to O-Ren Ishii’s speech in Kill Bill Vol. 1? He was not fucking around.
On a related now, I think “True Blood” showrunner Alan Ball may be stalking me. Seriously. I can think of no other way he could deliver on my deepest “True Blood” dreams: Folks were telling off Sookie Stackhouse left and right and acknowledging that she has an annoying penchant of convincing other people to sacrifice for her gain. Sookeh was so thunderstruck by all the shade that she retired to her parlor to get drunk and sing “The Pina Colada Song.” I actually kind of love her for that one.
Not so in love with the brujo hoodoo and Lafayette story. I mean, how many times can a brother be possessed? Somebody call an old priest and a young priest before Lala hurts somebody. (But for real, where is Jesus’ body? Is anybody gonna bring that up again?)
As we probably all guessed, Terry and his platoon did some awful stuff in Afghanistan. It seems they laid waste to a whole village. Still couldn’t care less about what that’s got to do with fire and Terry’s creepy captain pal.
I’m as disinterested in fairy wars as I am in Terry’s war. In Charlaine Harris’ books, the fairy club was a male strip joint — kind of like Xquisite in Magic Mike (which I saw today. Don’t judge me! Joe Maganiello (Alcide) was in it. I did it for you, fellow Truebies!) Alan Ball’s version is more like Cirque du Soleil. A little weird. A little tacky. Not at all erotic. At any rate, the spot seems to be ground zero for some sort of fairy refugee camp. Sigh … I really hope the impending fairy fracas doesn’t take too much time away from vampire business and the second coming of Russell Edgington. You know it’s gonna be gooood when he surfaces!