September TV shows

There are a few days left of the month, but I don't think it's likely that I will finish any other TV shows in that time, so writing my monthly round-up now makes sense. This month, I watched four(ish) TV shows, two that I really loved, and two that I felt were a bit self-indulgent. Those shows were:

Good Omens, or rather the second season of it. The first season of the show covered the events of the book in their entirety, so anything following was going to be new material, and to be honest, I'm not sure it was a great decision to make it. The showrunners took the thing that was most popular in both the book and the previous season — the bickering, not-very-ideologically-convinced spies/will-they-won't-they couple Crowley and Aziraphale — and built an entire season of TV around them, with a handwavy bit of plot as scaffolding. There were some fun (and funny) individual moments, the chemistry between David Tennant and Michael Sheen in the lead roles was as good as ever (and did most of the work carrying the show), but I was left feeling that the second season was unnecessary and cynical, and wishing that things could have been left complete after one very good individual season.

Deadloch, an Australian mystery that hovers on the line between drama and black comedy. The tone is similar to shows involving Taika Waititi, but with much darker moments, being at once an unsubtle parody of atmospheric Scandi noir crime shows (and their antipodean immitators, of which there have been several) and a show trying to make some serious points about misogyny. The titular Tasmanian town is a very deliberate parody of the sorts of picturesque struggling regional towns in Australia that undergo very specific gentrification when a large community of lesbians moves there (yes, this is a genuine cultural phenonemon in Australia; one of my (lesbian) great aunts and her partner, and my mother's (lesbian) colleague and her partner all ended up living in just such a place), as well as being the stereotypical crime drama small town in which everyone knows everyone's secrets, and a murder sparks a series of revelations rendering every resident somewhat culpable. The twist here (in addition to the comedic elements) is that unlike most grim crime series, the murder victims are all men, and the mismatched pair of detectives trying to solve the mystery are both women — with a lot of the stereotypical baggage that you'd normally expect to see in fictional male police officers. I really, really loved this, and particularly enjoyed its extremely Australian sensibility, cultural references, and overall vibe. It's perfect with just one season, and I hope they showrunners leave it at that!

Warrior, one of my favourite shows, which — after network cancellation and an extremely fierce social media campaign to get it picked up again — returned for a fantastic third season. This is a martial arts drama set in 19th-century San Fransisco Chinatown, and it has always reminded me a lot of Peaky Blinders — similar social commentary, similar types of characters, similar slow-motion stylised violence. It's a story about 19th-century American politics, immigration (and the racist anti-immigration backlash), industrial capitalism and labour rights, as well as a family saga about a community of Chinese migrants who find a kind of home and safety within rival underworld gangs — and every so often, this drama gives way for an exquisitely choreographed martial arts sequence. As in Peaky Blinders, it's also the story of people who were made to feel vulnerable and frightened once, and who respond to this by singlemindedly creating a situation in which they will never feel fear or vulnerability again, even if they have to burn down the world and destroy all their relationships to do it. Unlike the other shows I'm criticising for going beyond one season (or hoping they won't make more than one season), Warrior is still going strong after three seasons, and the showrunners have said they have at least two seasons' more stories to tell. I'm happy to carry on the journey with them.

Only Murders in the Building has also reached its third season, although here I feel it's gone on for too long. The first season — a motley trio of true crime podcast-loving New Yorkers find themselves solving a bizarre murder mystery that took place in their apartment building — was delightful, sparkling with clever writing that brilliantly parodied both true crime podcast conventions and New Yorkers both fictional and real, and carried along by a great cast. Its success meant that the show inevitably returned to solve two more murders, and while the elements of the winning formula remain (great cast of both core and secondary characters, quippy one liners, and an expansion of the targets of its parody to encompass the world of Broadway and musical theatre), I can't help but feel that the show has outstayed its welcome.