An author's commentary on the things he likes in life...
They call it a dramedy-- a Hollywood word for a comedy that's a drama and a drama that's a comedy. Isn't that how life is? Isn't it a dramedy, too?
I just finished watching the final episode of Season 5 of the Showtime series Californication. I had it recorded, but in one of those terrifically-timed Direct TV moments, the TIVO decided to record only the first five minutes of that episode, so I was left breathless all this time until I found a free episode on the web.
So it was almost five months later that I saw it.
But before that, let me tell you a little about me and Hank Moody. If you haven't met him, he's an award-winning novelist, living the life in L.A. trying to make it as a writer. He's a broken toy. He's morally bankrupt, except for some surprising sparks that elevate the other 99% of his behavioral. He's an addict-- to alcohol, to drugs and to being miserable. He loves his wife and he loves his daughter, but he loves himself more (or is it that he hates himself more than he loves them).
But behind all the terrible, Hank is Don Quixote tilting at the windmills of life. He's the indestructible hero, forever battling the legions trying to bring him down. He's Sisyphus, pushing his ego up the hill, only to see it roll back down to be pushed up once more, at the beginning and end of every season.
I can relate to Hank Moody in so many ways. I've been him. I've been stupid and I've been great. I've found myself in situations where I've gone one way, usually the moral way, and Hank Moody has gone the other. I've seen what could have been and it's not pretty. Hank is who we all could have been if we lacked moral filters. Still, for as bad as he is, Hank Moody is that terrible man who continually fucks up that you have eternal hope for.
That's why when I saw the final episode of season 5, where he was about to abandon his life and move in with his wife and daughter and live an upstanding life, only to be overdosed by an ex-lover who couldn't let him go... I almost cried. He was so close. He was there. All he had to do was to not have that drink she offered him.
But you know what? In classic Hank Moody style, he couldn't say no. He just had to have one more of something, anything, in this case a dope-laced highball of fuck-it-all-let's-end-it whiskey.
Californication is in my top five favorite shows on television. It always has been.I pay for Showtime so I can get 12 episodes of Californication. All the rest of the time I ignore it. Yes, even the softcore porn. There's also the advent of David Duchovny. When I used to see David Duchovny, I thought of Fox Mulder. That time is long since gone. He's Hank Moody all the way and he's as cool as Steve McQueen.
Yeah. I said it.
And now I discover that in 2013 there's going to be a Season 6.
Which means Hank Moody didn't die.
That's cool, but it's also fucking sad because it also means he didn't get the life (I think and hope) he deserves.
His ego ball has rolled down the hill and for one more season I will happily (morosely) watch him push it back up the hill.
Waiting impatiently for 2013.
We gotta talk.
You need some better advice.