“Do you believe the past can return?”
I’m not sure, Ms. Ives. I’m just not sure.
I know I’m not alone thinking I spend more time waiting around for television shows than I do watching.
I’m also willing to concede that quality can’t be rushed.
The problem for me is that I will just move on.
The emotional entanglement created by a good bit of televised drama is not a permanent spell. It dissipates.
And so I stumble upon a first look at Penny Dreadful Season 2.
Season 1 ended in June of last year. Season 2 is slated for late April.
I’m not sure how to feel. I recall getting into that show. The memory of those long ago nights is fuzzy.
Our heroine had come to grips with herself. Sort of. The tall, hairy American hadn’t. Not really. Though we no longer had to wait for his less obvious fangs to come out. The esteemed gentlemen revealed his weaknesses, but hardened himself and did what must be done. The vampire satan thing ran away into the night without a bride. The doctor was fretting over a bride of his own creation. The creepy painting remained creepy. The whore with consumption was finally consumed.
A lot of stuff happened, but it felt comfortable. Even the uncomfortable bits.
Now, I liked the gritty atmosphere of the show’s London. Eva Green is fun to watch. Timothy Dalton is smooth to listen to. Josh Hartnett is the squinting, confused drunk hiding his dark secrets that I am early Saturday morning waiting for a cab home. We both have the same sketchy looking facial hair and a tendency to growl when irritated.
However, I fear one of two things in April.
The first being that the show will recognize that we forgot about it and shacked up with another while it was doing a year abroad. To this end, the season will start slowly. Trying to draw us back in. Enticing us with sweets, but refusing to deliver. Wearing on our patience.
The second is a cannonball into the frozen pond. An attempt to shock our love back into being.
I’m not sure which is worse. I could rewatch the first season to get in the swing of things. I won’t. Probably. The marathon showings that precede a new season are like quicksand. Beware, lest you lose an entire day to the infinite void. I’ve heard that some people never find the way back.
Maybe it will just be fun and I’ll fall back into the show like I never left. I doubt it. I’m not that person.
But the call is strong. After all, nothing is on. Nothing is ever on. The Netflix menu is the best thing on lately.
Any port in a storm.
Hell, I’ll likely forget about all of this wordsmithing by April 2nd and be pleasantly surprised to find Penny Dreadful is about to start a new season. Surely I can find something else to rant about between now and then.
The trailer certainly tried to pull me into its embrace. I should go take a warm Bathory.