By Matt Zoller Seitz
In celebration of the third and regrettably final season of David Milch's HBO series "Deadwood," The House Next Door will spend this entire week, June 4-11, publishing essays on various aspects of the series. Every day will bring one or more pieces -- a mix of reprints of old Star-Ledger stuff, links to new Star-Ledger material and original "Deadwood" columns by House contributors.
It pretty much goes without saying that if you're a newcomer to "Deadwood," every article appearing during Deadweek will contain spoilers galore.
Offerings include a portrait of the character of Ellsworth, by Barry Maupin; my preview of Season 3, originally published in The Star-Ledger on June 4, 2006, and reprints of my Star-Ledger columns on the Season Two finale and Season Two preview.
As the week plays out and new pieces appear, I'll compile permanent URL's of each post in the sidebar at right under the heading, "The Deadwood Columns." Due to the volume of material that will appear over the next week, I'd suggest that if you're a Deadhead who is linking to this site, you should link to the main address (www.mattzollerseitz.blogspot.com) and then direct people to the sidebar, where they can peruse all the offerings at once.
Please remember that the comments threads are not just a forum to discuss the series, but also a clearinghouse for all things "Deadwood." Feel free to post URL's directing readers to any "Deadwood" fan sites or articles on the web that you think might be of interest. And if you get a free moment, email the same link to reeling@aol.com, and I'll add it to a comprehensive list of "Deadwood" links to be published on Sunday, June 11.
"Sopranos Monday" will continue as always on Monday, June 5, with Sean Burns' column on the season finale (or is that midseason finale?). "Deadwood" fans are encouraged to revisit the House on June 12, when "Sopranos Monday" will be replaced by a new regular feature, "Deadwood Monday."
Finally, a personal note: This project has been in the works for six months with the encouragement and support of my wife, Jennifer Dawson, a student of "Deadwood" who considered it the greatest drama in the history of American television -- an assessment I not only agreed with, but repeated in my Star-Ledger preview of Season Two, reprinted below. This week is dedicated to her.
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UPDATE: Variety reports that "Deadwood" won't be back as a regular series, but Milch has accepted an offer to do two freestanding two-hour movies wrapping up the narrative. For more information, click here. Also, San Francisco Chronicle TV critic Tim Goodman, one of the sharpest analysts around, writes a provocative piece excoriating both HBO and Milch for getting themselves into this situation, and advising fans, "Too bad about 'Deadwood,' but you'll live."
Deadweek: June 4-11, 2006
Monday, June 05, 2006
Deadweek: June 4-11, 2006
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14 comments:
Hey all -
Three links here, shamelessly grabbed from my own blog:
first
(link to mp3 of milch's talk at MIT, brief digression about brad dourif - i'll update the link and put up a local copy if Calamity Dan
takes the huge mp3 offline)
next: a discussion of milch's MIT talk on 4/20 - which BTW was a *brilliant* two hours
lastly: a 'sopranos' post that has 'deadwood' as its at-first-latent and then more conscious subject)
Carry on then!
One of Milch's reported rationales for turning down the six-episode fourth season (assuming that offer was real and not just weird spin control) but agreeing to do two two-hour movies is that each "Deadwood" episode takes place over a single day, and usually over consecutive days. (There's one spot in the middle of season one, around the time Bullock goes to find McCall, where the writers are fuzzy about how much time has elapsed, but other than that, the 12 episodes=12 straight days format has held.)
Anyway, Milch reportedly didn't feel he could resolve the fate of the camp over a six-day period, but with the movies he won't feel the same chronological restrictions.
Whatever the reason, I'm just glad we'll get some closure.
I am not a Deadwood regular. In fact, I'm not even a Deadwood irregular since I had to give up the show after failing to live peacefully with the chilling image of the pigs feeding on the killed prostitutes some time back.
That said, I have been reading some of these posts and have been convinced by many of you (and the blog’s convincing originator) that this show is way, way too incredible to ignore. So, I am back and will watch Deadwood with new found bravery. Maybe David Milch will build a group home for those of us who don't survive the extreme mental distress that could result from habitual viewing. Not all of us will be cured or exorcised by the catharsis of writing on these pages. Some of us could end up seriously unhinged. So, wish me luck. Deadwood, here I come.
I'm surprised by the level of venom directed toward Milch and HBO in the last few days. Well, toward Milch anyhow. From his book, True Blue, and of course from his writing for the screen, it's easy to tell that he's a man of integrity and moral seriousness, and of course possessed of a painfully blunt introspectiveness. He points out in True Blue (an account of the making of the first three seasons of NYPD Blue) that his 'lack of impulse control' makes him a liability in network negotiations - the big reason NYPD Blue was able to push so many envelopes was Steven Bochco, who's quite experienced at such tussles - and Milch is too wealthy and too respected to have to make creative decisions for purely financial reasons.
(Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if this whole 'surf noir' thing turned out to be a spoof by Milch.)
Remember (in keeping with Goodman's excellent column), HBO has pulled the plug on an expensive but critically-applauded period drama before - Carnivale, which was nowhere near the show Deadwood is but which couldn't have existed on any other network. While it's disappointing that seeming creative boldness and financial ruthlessness can coexist in that network, it shouldn't be surprising. (Look at the fanbase for The Sopranos: the appeal of a tits-and-bullets show, even one of that one's astonishing seriousness and complexity, is more base than critic-types might like to admit. Look at the fan message boards for countless examples.)
I'm definitely willing to take Milch at face value here (and not just because I'm, um, a drooling fan of his). If he says there are creative reasons not to continue the show, then that's almost certainly that; he doesn't strike me as the sort to carry water for the network.
Though I must say: he said at the MIT talk (or maybe the reception afterward?) that he had no interest in doing contemporary pieces, preferring the moral/eventual amplification afforded by a historical setting. 'Surf noir' seems almost unbecoming, for that and other reasons, and 'Deadwood' was obviously both very personal and a close fit for his sometimes left-field theories about community and the individual. The two-hour pieces should be fascinating.
Tim Goodman's post is interesting, but I think he's missing the point. He says:
But just because HBO acted like, well, Fox, doesn't mean it should suffer the whiny backlash of outraged fans. And yet, that's what's happening now, with Internet campaigns hell-bent on saving "Deadwood" and at the same time organizing the National Cancel HBO Day. The first is understandable, the second is asinine.
Uhm, why is that asinine? Lets see, you're paying a premium (something in the range of $10-$20 a month) for artistically daring series that you know won't be cut off in the middle and left in the black lodge, so to speak.
One series, artisitically daring, but perhaps unfulfilling for a general audience is simply too ambitious and expensive, and gets cut off. I refer to "Carnivale," of course, which I adored. But frankly, that show's creator's "it's going to be three seasons" to "it's three 'books', each comprising of two seasons. so, six seasons!" coupled with a story that requires essentially a new period town be built each week, at tremendous cost and small audience was really hard to maintain. it gets axed after "book 1." Fair enough. I hated you for it, but fair enough.
Second series starts with huge hype, but is slow going in the begining. But, it eventually picks up and becomes really fulfilling, artistic, in short a complete series. "Rome." It would be cut and bye-bye, except its co-financed. Gets second season by the skin of its teeth.
The series at hand. Second most popular show on the network. Critical darling. Three seasons in, told fourth season would close it out. And... we're gonna cut it, because we kind of mismanaged things.
Now, saying to HBO and your cable provider: "I subscribe to HBO because there is essentially a promise in place. If you break that promise, I will no longer subscribe." This is asinine?
Whiny backlash? Maybe I'm being whiny now, but how is refusing to continue pay for something your not happy with a whiny backlash? Just seems sensible to me.
Curb Your Enthusiasm is great for laughs. Big Love is a pretty entertaining melodrama. All well and good. But I pay for the heavy hitters, and if you cut off all the heavy hitters at the knees, UNLESS they happen to become a cultural milestone, I ain't paying any more. Doesn't seem juvenile to me, seems like a consumer reasonable stating their expectations.
Cheers, and sorry, back to "Deadwood."
I wonder if the fact that Milch just *happened* to let slip the fact that he was "getting off the train" after season 4 wasn't a way of sending a backchannel message to HBO, to the effect that they wouldn't have to put up with the overlapping series for long. My guess would be that HBO decided that they really wanted Milch, not DEADWOOD, and once they had him inked for another series, Al and co. seemed disposable. I did wonder if letting the cast's contracts lapse without officially cancelling the show wasn't HBO's not-too-subtle way of renegotiating their contracts (or at least letting them know no one was due for a raise), but that doesn't seem to have been the case. At least it looks like we'll get some kind of closing chapter rather than an unfinished novel.
Apologies for the off-topic post here, but my lame attempt at justification for the following is that I first discovered this blog through the brilliant post comparing Deadwood with McCabe & Mrs. Miller.
We are requesting pitches for articles to appear in The High Hat #7. We hope to have articles on all the usual subjects (music, comix, literature, politics...) but this issue will feature a special section celebrating the career of director Robert Altman. We welcome pitches on all aspects of his career, from individual movies to career retrospectives. Pieces questioning his reputation as one of the great American filmmakers are also very much welcome.
Please send pitches to highhatsubmissions at gmail dot com by June 14.
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Anyway, I'm very much looking forward to reading the Deadwood articles here this week. As MZS claimed in one of the posted articles, it is deserving of the adjective "Shakespearean," although I also use that phrase for The Wire, which has a similar focus on how institutions and egotism are the framework of the American Experience.
Hayden: I might take you up on that request for submission. I have a lot of Altmany ideas kicking around in my head.
Also, I'm on the same page with you re: THE WIRE. A couple of years ago, when Season One of DEADWOOD and Season Three of THE WIRE ran together, I had trouble filling out the top 2 slots of my Top 10 list because I couldn't decide which of the two to put as Number 1. I ultimately put THE WIRE as Number 1 and DEADWOOD as 2, and my reasoning came down to this: DEADWOOD was more ambitious, more multilayered and week-to-week, just weightier; and there were times in Season 3 where THE WIRE seemed to have grown dissatisfied being terse and terrific and was trying to spread its wings and be "literary," not always successfully. (Richard Price's presence on the writing staff sometimes announced itself a bit too strongly, it seemed to me; I like Price's novels, but his screenwriting often feels like a novel, too.) But THE WIRE had been around longer and was teetering on the brink, so I thought giving it the top slot would send the proper statement, for whatever some ink-stained wretch's opnion is worth.
They're quite different, of course, and these things are so subjective. But you better believe that the Monday slot at the House is going to THE WIRE next.
I might take you up on that request for submission. I have a lot of Altmany ideas kicking around in my head.
That would be fantastic! We've just received one submission that started life as a Altman blog-a-thon post, so your influence is already seeping into our little 'zine.
there were times in Season 3 where THE WIRE seemed to have grown dissatisfied being terse and terrific and was trying to spread its wings and be "literary," not always successfully. (Richard Price's presence on the writing staff sometimes announced itself a bit too strongly, it seemed to me; I like Price's novels, but his screenwriting often feels like a novel, too.)
Yeah, I agree with this, although it only rarely pulled me out of the narrative. Pelecanos was more noticeable to me than Price, even though I've only read one of the former's books and most of the latter's. Pelecanos's pop culture references seemed utterly wrong in the mouths of the characters, although they seem ok in his books. I'm glad both are involved, though, because their relatively high profiles must have provided a little cushion to help ensure the 4th season.
Anyway, I'm glad to read that The Wire is going to take over the Monday slot when it comes back, but should stop gushing about one of my two favorite shows in comments ostensibly about the other.
Alan, if I'm not mistaken, a week elapses between the penultimate episode of season two ("The Whores Can Come") and the finale ("Boy-the-Earth-Talks-to"). However, given the two 2-part episodes in season two, the whole twelve episodes still comprises about 16 days.
I think the first season takes place over the course of at least a month, as some weeks pass while the plague infests the camp and Bullock is off chasing McCall. The timeline in the middle of the season is definitely not 1 day per episode (also, the first scene of the pilot takes place about 2 months before the rest of the pilot).
I think the difference, from Milch's perspective, between features and episodes is not just chronological, but that each hour-long episode must have its own internal rhythm and pacing, and come to a conclusion, and thus Milch and company can actually paint on a broader canvas with a 2-hour feature than, say, three hours' worth of episodes.
Not that my opinion matters (and I don't claim to have any idea what really happened), but for what it's worth, based on everything I've read (particularly the comments of the show's actors and producers who have been candidly posting to HBO's discussion boards) I tend to find HBO predominantly culpable for the fact that DEADWOOD is getting a 4 hour wrap-up instead of a full season four, and I don't see much blame that can be laid at the feet of David Milch. Nothing I've read has contradicted the basic fact that this all happened because HBO, after strongly suggesting to the public and cast/crew that it would do otherwise, suddenly decided it was unwilling or unable to spend the money necessary to allow a fourth season to proceed. I've also heard nothing so far (despite what Tim Goodman says) that contradicts the notion that Milch was led to believe by HBO that his new series would not affect their commitment to DEADWOOD until it was too late and he was signed. From what I can tell, Milch has worked his ass off to make sure there was some conclusion rather than simply a mid-stream ending, and HBO should be credited (despite my anger at them) for ultimately agreeing to (or perhaps even proposing) a compromise that Milch felt he could live with. If Milch thinks he can do the series justice with 2 feature-length films, I trust him until it's proven otherwise.
Regarding Tim Goodman, his underlying points are well-taken, but it seems extremely churlish to me to call the a segment of the show's devoted fans (and his readers) names, and to suggest that we owe HBO our subscription money after they've broken their promises to us, just because they're still better than other networks. Also, his suggestion that disgruntled DEADWOOD fans ought to cancel HBO before DEADWOOD's third season makes absolutely no sense. And I simply disagree with him about whether EXTRAS, ROME, ENTOURAGE, and BIG LOVE (all of which I've watched and enjoyed) are worth subscription fees.
Per Sam Adams: "I wonder if the fact that Milch just *happened* to let slip the fact that he was "getting off the train" after season 4 wasn't a way of sending a backchannel message to HBO, to the effect that they wouldn't have to put up with the overlapping series for long. My guess would be that HBO decided that they really wanted Milch, not DEADWOOD, and once they had him inked for another series, Al and co. seemed disposable."
I'm willing to take Milch at face value vis-a-vis the four-year story arc statement, since the series' one-year-per-season chronology leads syncs up with the historical record to provide a natural stopping point: Season one was 1876, S2 was 1877, S3 is 1878, and all of Deadwood essentially burned to the ground on September 26, 1879. Bullock, Swearengen and Star all stuck around to rebuild the camp, but most of the historical figures on whom the characters are based packed up and moved away. I couldn't imagine a more natural termination point for the story.
(My apologies if the above seems like a heinous spoiler-I'm assuming that anyone who's halfway serious about the show will have been motivated to do some reading up on the history).
As to the "surf noir", what if it too is a period piece? I dare say the general concept would work a lot better in the early '60s than it would in the here and now.
Greg, there's been occasional fudging on the consecutive days thing. To quote something one of the "Deadwood" writers once wrote me during season one:
"As you've noted some of the episodes begin directly after the last one finished, and with some time has elapsed. When Swearengten berates Farnum that the Widow isn't high for her husband's funeral, it's either stated or implied that some time has gone by. We have made an effort to keep track of how much time, but I'd think that it isn't necessarily literal. In Episode Seven, Bullock and Utter bring Jack McCall to Yankton and return to Deadwood. In real time, that would have taken a minimum of three weeks, but we play an interderminate time elapse. Then, of course, Episode Eight takes place directly after Episode Seven.
"What that all adds up to is that the first five episodes take place in five days, then there is some time elapsed between Five and Six and Six and Seven (and also within Episode Seven), while Eight follows Seven directly. Now my brain hurts. ;)"
Andrew:
Damn you for spoiling the story with history!
Butseriouslyfolks: Much as the image of Bullock and Swearengen literally rising from the ashes would seem to fit Milch's pet theme, I don't think the series is following the one-year-per-season rule. Based on the deadline for elections at the end of season 2, season 3 can start no more than six weeks later, and presumably at least a bit earlier since we need some buildup to the election. That's not to say Milch won't break his own rule and leap forward mid-season, or that the gap between the two "movies" might not be more than those between seasons. I daresay that putting money on what Milch will or won't do next is not a wise thing to do.
It served as a convenient excuse but really the show's never been that rigid about maintaining its format (as pointed out in the preceding posts). Even the idea of having each season represent events in consecutive calendar years (S1: 1876, S2: 1877) has been busted apart since season 3 begins about 6 weeks after the events "Boy the Earth Talks To" still in 1877.
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