THE KILLING: 1.13 “Orpheus Descending”
In the brief moments between the end of Game of Thrones and the start of the finale of The Killing, I had one statement (about The Killing anyway) to say to JC:
I’ll be pissed if they end this episode with a cliffhanger, and we still don’t know who the killer was.
About ten to fifteen moments before the episode ended, I started feeling skeptical. Something wasn’t right. And then JC said something:
Remember in the preview? They said you wouldn’t believe what happened in the final five minutes?
Things really weren’t looking good. And they got uglier as they played out on screen. To be fair, I wasn’t pissed. Instead, I think I rolled my eyes with a “You’ve got to be kidding me.” But it had crossed my mind that dumb writers would make this decision. After all, why would someone come back for season two if they closed up all the story lines?
But what about the main promise? Who killed Rosie Larsen? Are we to expect that we need an entire series to answer that question, not just a season? This just feels ridiculous. We’ve gone from red herring to red herring with bumps along the way. In fact, with a show that had such a strong beginning, man, it went to rock bottom fast.
The Killing, I wasted a Moment of the Week on you. You’ve betrayed me.
The show went from something phenomenal — one that actually made me recommend it to a colleague — to one that I forced myself to watch, to one that I ignored. Finally, I caught back up and got ramped up about the finale. And in the end, I don’t really care. The show had such promise, and it fell into a typical C-plus TV drama trap: Make the procedural have a cliffhanger ending. If only the procedural hadn’t been one case all season long.
I can devote two episodes with a summer in between for a cliffhanger. I can’t devote thirteen episodes, a summer, and a second season. This is ridiculous.
Ultimately, The Killing let us down in the ugliest way possible. It went from the top to the slums of television cliches. And honestly, I don’t think I have an urge now to find out who killed Rosie Larsen. If the show hasn’t turned off every television reviewer, I think I can wait until someone out there on the interwebs recaps it.
That’s better than nothing, right? I’ll let the bloggers satisfy my interest. Since, you know, clearly the show’s writers can’t do it.