A Love Letter To Bloodline: the End of a Show.

What started as my favorite TV show of 2015 turned quickly into a short and disappointing trip down failed Netflix road. Now, before I dig into the show itself we have to acknowledge a few factors that contributed to the show's demise.

1. Florida's tax incentives. In an interview, the show's creators acknowledged their show was cut short significantly. While they planned out for five or six seasons of television ultimately their budget was too high to continue shooting in Florida. Since the show was married to it's Florida look their was no conceivable way to film it outside of it's locale. Take note Texas: when you get rid of film incentives tv shows stop filming there and people lose precious work. Seems pretty obvious.

2. Netflix's mystery data. Have you ever asked yourself why there's two seasons of The Ranch? Nobody knows exactly which show is the most popular show on Netflix. I mean we can all guess. The actual data that says which show attracts which demographics though remains a mystery. I like to imagine it's in a locked box in Netflix's office where Reed Hastings goes to masturbate from time to time. Unfortunately Netflix has collected enough data they can start cancelling shows. After the glut of television, original movies, and media Netflix let loose they are finally starting to reign it in. Obviously big contracts like the Marvel/Netflix comic book originals are gonna stay, but those shows on the fringes (your Hemlock Grove's or your Bloodlines) are finally getting cut short. 

So Netflix can't afford to finance six seasons of a show that (as far as we know) is failing. Which is too bad. What we have left is three seasons worth of material crammed into one. Boy, what a whirlwind that is.

The end of season two leaves us on a cliffhanger. The question: Are the Rayburns going to get away with this? The answer seems most likely not. Season three kicks into first gear by starting immediately where it left off. The Family's in deep shit again. Between Kevin covering up a murder, John trying to leave his family, and Meg drinking herself into oblivion roughly seven hours (of actual time) occur. Four if we're being honest with ourselves.

The "escaping a murder" bit constitutes one narrative season. You can tell stylistically: operatic music, visual metaphors (the incident with the alligator), breakneck pacing. Season-wise the A plots (of John, Meg, and especially Kevin) fit an odd number of episodes. Three and a half with the end being a title card telling us five months has passed. Meg leaves the family for good. Kevin gets away with murder. John saves his family, yet again. Eric O'Bannon takes the fall. These are the kinds of things we would expect from an entire season of Scandal or How to Get Away With Murder.

We transition into a new 'season' of episodes with a simple title: Five Months Later. It's a bit of a narrative cop out since we jump directly into a brand new circumstances: John and Diana split up, Kevin recovered from his gunshot (and works happily with Roy Gilbert), Meg has vanished. The dramatic time between Eric getting framed and the family falling apart alone could have occupied an entire season. Instead we get 'Five Months Later' which essentially drops us right into a different plot.

Just when I worried the show lost my interest it does something unique. It changes genres. It was simply a family crime drama, but it turns into a court-case crime drama. Bloodline takes a page from The Night Of's book centering it's drama around the court case indicting Eric O'Bannon. Lawyer interrogations, courtroom reveals, and back channel deals create the dramatic tension we're used to. The 'season' (roughly a four episode run) finds Meg written out of the show, John losing his grip, and Kevin celebrating getting off scot free. As if that wasn't enough this new 'season' brings back minor plots like Nolan's regret over his father, Ozzy Delveccio's dogged hatred of the Rayburns, and Chelsea O'Bannon's love for her brother. The switch reinvigorates the show for a bit.

The final 'season' of episodes centers around what I call the Tell Tale Heart (based off the one Edgar Allen Poe story everybody is familiar with.) John lapses in and out of paranoid psychosis with hallucinations, Kevin falls deeper into his life of crime, and Sally Rayburn renounces the family name. Each of these arcs, mildly developed in the first part of the actual season take front and center now that the narrative's actual drama has come to a head. It's kind of the next question we have to ask ourselves: Can these characters live with what they've done? The answer: no.

What I loved about the first season was the tragic conclusion. The ending of season one felt cosmic and inescapable. Season Two's finale carried all the randomness that violence carries with it. Season Three.... pulls a Sopranos on us. I'll get to that.

Where the first two-thirds of the actual season focused and honed in on the narrative drama (Kevin getting away with murder, the trail framing O'Bannon) the last third wanders distinctly. We get one whole episode with all the cognitive coherence of a Luis Buñuel film. Hallucinations become pretty much standard. Meg is completely gone by now. All that's left is Kevin, Sally, and John. Oh! And Ozzy, Chelsea, and Nolan.

An entire story about the DEA's investigation into Roy Gilbert's drug operation becomes a two episode arc (something that took Vincent Gilligan three seasons to develop in BB.) To quote the DEA agents: "Things move fast." Loose ends tie up, Deus Ex Machina style (Roy has a heart attack and Ozzy shoots himself.) Considering there's little-to-no motivation for either event to happen we can tell the showrunners are tying up loose ends as quickly as possible.

The show wraps up thematically with Sally Rayburn reaching her own inevitable conclusion. She is unable to escape her family's curse and leave the property. Instead, in ten years time, the sea will flood the property taking everything. All of her life's actions are rendered obsolete and it is not to be taken lightly when every evil thing you've done in your life was all for naught. She rounds on Kevin and John with a monologue I have to admit chilled me. We last see Sally Rayburn contemplating the complete loss of her morality as the only anchor in her life (the resort) will inevitably erode to nothing. She has nothing left and no one to share it with. Her legacy will literally be washed away by the sea.

Roy Gilbert dies of a heart attack and Kevin is left with his dick in his hands and the police down his back. Kevin.... tries to escape the DEA. Fails on a technicality. Gets arrested. The most drama his story reaches is when he confesses (by silently staring) to Belle all that's happened.  The end.

John, meanwhile, wades through madness to decide whether or not to tell the truth. The answer, ultimately, being a YES. His conscious (the Tell Tale Heart here) won't let him sleep and plagues his waking life. That entire dream sequence episode was something out of Twin Peaks with it's obscurity. I had a hard time understanding exactly what was going on. Even when John tries to confront his actions legally, he's rebuffed. He's lied so much that to tell the truth seems like a lie to his peers. The only person he has left to share the truth with is Nolan; Danny's son.

There are a few themes to this show and the most resounding one is Family. I think it's genuinely the most used word in the entire show. How far will you go to protect your family? John Rayburn confronts his family's legacy and realizes they have left nothing behind but lies, trauma, and lying children. As John comes to understand (through a ghostly visit by Ben Mendelson) all his family does is lie, and it's a cycle. He lied. His parents lied. Their parents lied. He has a choice: break the cycle. That's where we get to the Sopranos mic-drop that is Bloodline's last scene.

Everyone's favorite dramatic closer: a cut to black mid-scene. We're all left wondering. Maybe he will tell Nolan the whole truth of what happened to his father. Maybe he won't tell him. We're left wondering. Which is too bad, because a show about deceit and family trauma should probably offer a little more closure and honesty.


Bloodline. You were a great show to start. Season One convinced me I needed to go to the Keys. I loved the way you teased from day one. I lost my shit when you surprised me with brand new cliffhangers for season two. Then you abused my faith by dragging me around. I didn't realize until it was too late: Ben Mendelson was your anchor. Without his menacing presence we lacked an inspiring plot. Instead we got to watch every character dwindle into self-conceited guilt until the lashing out was inevitable. Season Three you tried to wrap up everything. You didn't do it cleanly. In fact, you left quite a mess. Still, we had good times and I'm going to blatantly ignore all the bad times in favor of your incredibly well paced first season. Sorry, I don't think I'm going to be recommending you much anymore.

P.S. I'm starting House of Cards season five. Please don't be upset. This is what makes me happy now.