I start my weekend with a garden party then nothing; I let my days go upside down binge watching a show I enjoy but do not like.
The show is too melodramatic, has too many scenes of badly played sincerity. The “Trust me …”; “Believe me …”; “I promise …”; followed by a river of emotional babel.
The deaths have to be in the hundreds per season and I celebrate when there is an episode without a shooting. 90 episodes and I have celebrated less than a handful of times.
The plots are borderline comical, lacking the Fleming touch for making larger than life characters believable, characters that you can see as part of your fantasy life.
It’s the main character that makes it interesting. He’s a good bad guy. Not a Robin Hood but an amoral utilitarian (technically an oxymoron — why am I equating unsentimental with amoral?) with an overweighted family bias. I do not know how much credit to give to the acting; The actor’s ticks make the character; Or maybe it is the role makes them a fit. Regardless, if the role was played any other way, I would have given up on the show after one, maybe two episodes.
The binge started a few weeks ago. I feel sure that I had a valid reason for the cheap escapism. Burnt out after high stress week? I don’t remember. I do remember it was deliberate, or at least the start of the session was deliberate.
I start all my binges mindfully, however, the validity of the reasons for deserving an escape from reality is variable. Double speak for I’m probably lying to myself. I have said it before, my ease with using double speak scares me because I do not like people who are at ease with double speak — fakes. It makes this a lie to myself about lying to myself, it reminds me of the opening to the remake of Alfie “I find that, lately, even lying to myself comes easily.”
It is the frequency of cringe-worthy episodes that make it hard for me to accept my enjoying the show, to call it a guilty pleasure, and to name it. Is start criticizing the script, the actors. I start wondering why I am spending so much time watching the episodes, which makes me look at the time, which is usually later than I thought, which has me trudging off to bed, reminding myself why I like the show because I cannot allow myself to go to sleep while calling myself an idiot for wasting time on stupid show and stating up too late.
And staying up too late is what I did this weekend. There were fewer than average cringe-worthy episodes; it took me a few extra hours to get to the moment where I look at the time. My days started shifting. By the time Monday morning arrived, it was too close to Sunday evening for comfort.