If clusterf*ck wasn’t already a word, it would have been invented for this show. It was a ridiculously self-indulgent piece of crap, parading as a trying-too-hard-to-be-film-noir-ish piece of crap.
But the best part about this hideous show was reading Josh Dickey’s hilarious recaps on Mashable. They made me feel not-so-stupid, at least.
Like everyone else, I had such high hopes for this show that I even convinced my neighbor and good friend to host True Detective dinner parties. She will never forgive me, or believe me again. But at least we had 8 good dinners. And the shootings, the whispering, the mumbling, the constant re-winding (“What did he say?”)…it’s all over now.
It’s safe to go back to television.