I don’t watch a lot of television. Having said that, I will admit I have had a run lately on good quality shows – Poldark, When Calls the Heart, Victoria, and Mercy Street. These are all, of course, on PBS with the exception of When Calls the Heart which is a Hallmark show.
So yea – you see the sort of stuff I watch. Not much different than the kind of stuff I read.
So it was a little odd when a friend hooked me on This Is Us. Me watching a major network show is like seeing a blizzard in June in southeast Texas. That I became a fan of said show is even odder. Honestly, I kept trying to find reasons NOT to watch it, but I kept coming back week after week.
I love the inter-generational approach. I love the writing. I LOVE the characters, who are flawed – flawed – flawed – and yet still quite likable. I love the character growth I have witnessed – especially in Kevin.
And I love the raw realness of it. I would cry and sniff – and then think – this is so true. This is how life happens.
I can SO relate!
The season finale was . . . unfair.
There. I said it.
To anyone who cares – THE SEASON FINALE WAS UNFAIR!
I said it.
To set us up all season with small clues as to what happened to Jack is one thing. But the two episodes before the last we were given major clues as to what we thought happened – from Kate saying his death was her fault, to the empty beer bottles in the car, to the fight he and Rebecca had.
And then, they never told us how he died.
Had they gone on with their little, drippy clues up to the last show I would not have cared. I would have thought – “oh well, they will let us know next season.”
But to set us up the two shows before the last, and then to NOT do as they sort of promised.
Authors make unwritten contracts with readers. Provide an entertaining story. Or a dramatic story. Or whatever the author’s “brand” entails. It matters not the genre.
The one part of the contract, however,