It's a really, really, really fucked up show, and not being a fan of surfing the way I'm a fan of westerns and cop shows, it's not as immediately accessible as Deadwood or NYPD Blue. But I'm enjoying it. Knowing as much as I do about David Milch, it's neat seeing aspects of his life brought out in the characters--he was a doper and con artist, and the main character's son is a doper and con artist. Both Milch's father and brother were doctors, and the doctor on the show, played by Garret Dillahunt, is perhaps a tribute to his brother. But Ed O'Neill's retired policeman, Bill, is the weirdest.
I'm only two episodes in so far, but the weirdest thing I've seen so far--weirder than the levitating surfer and the bird that makes braindead children come back to life--is that Bill looks, talks, and dresses EXACTLY like David Milch, the show's creator. What up with that? Who given their druthers would hire Al Bundy to play themselves?
To be fair, Ed O'Neill is a much better actor than I gave him credit for. So is Rebecca DeMornay as the mom, Cissy. And seeing all the regulars from Deadwood is a treat--Charlie Utter, Ellsworth, Trixie, Wolcott. And Bruce Greenwood is great, hitting the same note of tiredness that Keith Carradine hit as Wild Bill. Luke Perry is still a turd, though.
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I loved this series--in some ways moreso than Deadwood because it didn't just redefine a genre as much as it created its own. The whole surfer motif seems nothing more than an arbitrary setting, a likely vessel to hold the strange metaphysics Milch wrestles with in this show.
The show had me hooked immediately, as soon as the almost Biblical (and possibly Shakespearean--though you would know better than I would) archetypes begin to establish themselves.
And as always, Milch doesn't mess with pointless conjecture. Each scene is intrinsic to the story, layered to the point where "multiple interpretations" seems a cop-out descriptor.
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