A review of “The Purge” Season 1 (2018)

“The Purge” franchise continues to defy expectations after its move to television.  It still isn’t high art, and it probably can never fully transcend the high-camp trappings of its premise.  (I suppose it’s hard to script a truly grounded horror property about people in Halloween costumes murdering one another with impunity on a designated “holiday.”)  But, like the movies preceding it, the USA Network’s new dystopian horror show is still a bit smarter and more interesting you’d expect from its bizarre central plot conceit.

The 10-episode first season, which aired with seemingly little fanfare last fall, generally succeeds — I’d rate it an 8 out of 10, and I’ve spoken with a couple of other horror fan who were as happy with it as I was.  The people who recommended it to me are also big fans of AMC’s “The Walking Dead” (which has radically improved this season), and that makes sense.  Although “The Purge” has an entirely different feel than “The Walking Dead,” it also has a lot of common elements — both shows are milieu-type horror stories with a large, diverse group of characters negotiating a sprawling setting with innumerable deadly antagonists.

A surprising amount of thought went into this show.  There’s a nice degree of world-building and detail, with various characters embracing, rejecting or remaining ambivalent about the titular “Purge.”  The screenwriter here tries hard to round out the twisted America in which The Purge annually takes place, with a lot of creative and blackly cynical story elements.  (I’m not clear if the writer here is James DeMonaco, who wrote and directed the first three of the four “Purge” movies.)  We see, for example, a cult whose brainwashed members offer themselves up as willing murder victims, as well as anti-Purge revolutionaries who exploit the night to target the fascist oligarchical government which created the brutal holiday.  There are a lot of surprises in terms of plot, character and setting that I will not spoil here.

The gore and violence were surprisingly high for network television.  (Again, this show may be taking its cues from “The Walking Dead,” which always pushes the boundaries.)

Some of the acting is quite good — William Baldwin is absolutely superb, Lee Tergesen is always fun to watch, and the beautiful Hannah Emily Anderson is another talented standout.  I swore I recognized Fiona Dourif’s distinctive looks and mannerisms.  (She portrays the cunning cult leader who entices young people to sacrifice themselves, and I’ll be damned if she doesn’t totally look and sound the part.)  But, upon Googling her, I realized I’d never seen her before — she just reminds me of her father, who also plays a lot of bad guys — the amazing Brad Dourif.

Some of my enthusiasm for “The Purge” waned just a little as the season wound down toward its conclusion.  After Season 1’s unsettling ideas were left fully explored, the show did start to feel more like conventional television — right down to a standard good-guys-vs.-bad-guys shoot-em-up at its climax.  (If the show had fully sustained its tension until the end, I would have rated it a 9 out of 10.)  And the final minutes of Season 1 consist of a coda among three characters that is forced and preposterous … I’m surprised it made it past the editing stage.  But this still wasn’t enough to spoil the fun.

I should also note here that not everyone enjoyed “The Purge” as I and my friends did.  Critical and popular reaction to it is definitely mixed.  (As of this writing, the show has only a 42% rating from critics on Rotten Tomatoes, with just 63% of audiences liking it.)

Postscript — I could almost swear that the auditorium we see towards the end is the very same shooting location used for Thomas Smith’s school in “The Man in the High Castle.”  You can tell by the establishing shots.  It’s even lit the same way.

 

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The good news is — my 23andMe test results came back.

The bad news is — I’m one of those goddam heads from Easter Island.

#@%$.

This would at least explain my math skills.

 

 

“Windy Day,” Alexei and Sergei Tkachev, 1957

Alexei and Sergei Tkachev - Windy Day

“Starless are the nights of travel,/ Bleak the winter wind …”

“Lady, Weeping at the Crossroads,” by W H. Auden

Lady, weeping at the crossroads,
Would you meet your love
In the twilight with his greyhounds,
And the hawk on his glove?

Bribe the birds then on the branches,
Bribe them to be dumb,
Stare the hot sun out of heaven
That the night may come.

Starless are the nights of travel,
Bleak the winter wind;
Run with terror all before you
And regret behind.

Run until you hear the ocean’s
Everlasting cry;
Deep though it may be and bitter
You must drink it dry,

Wear out patience in the lowest
Dungeons of the sea,
Searching through the stranded shipwrecks
For the golden key,

Push on to the world’s end, pay the
Dread guard with a kiss,
Cross the rotten bridge that totters
Over the abyss.

There stands the deserted castle
Ready to explore;
Enter, climb the marble staircase,
Open the locked door.

Cross the silent ballroom,
Doubt and danger past;
Blow the cobwebs from the mirror
See yourself at last.

Put your hand behind the wainscot,
You have done your part;
Find the penknife there and plunge it
Into your false heart.

 

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4,445 Falsehoods.

That has a nice alliterative ring to it, doesn’t it?  It’s the count at which the Toronto Star has currently arrived  in its tally of Donald Trump’s false claims as president.

Why does it sound poetic?  Does it just remind me somehow of Martin Luther’s 95 Theses?

 

 

Subtracting Google+

Quick site update — if you happen to enjoy this here bloggity-type thing, and you’re following me on Google+, then please be aware that Google is shutting down that platform on April 2.  If you’re not a WordPress subscriber (and therefore can’t follow me in its newsfeed), then you can always just bookmark my site.  Or you can sign up for e-mail notifications with the button bottom left under the menu bar at this site.

Or, if it’s easier to follow me on social media, then you can find me on FacebookTwitter, Pinterest and LinkedIn.

Finally, my author’s page at Amazon.com is right here, and I also participate in the Goodreads Authors Program here.

I’m not really clear about why Google selected April 2 as a termination date for its social media platform.  (The 1st falls on a Monday.)  It occurs to me now that if they’d chosen April 1, then at least some people would think it was an April Fool’s Day joke.  (People see hoaxes and conspiraciese everywhere these days.)  I myself am looking forward to Jordan Peele’s reboot of “The Twilight Zone,” and that’s scheduled to debut on April 1.  But that show sounds too good to be true, and  at least part of me is suspicious that it’s all an elaborate April fool’s joke.

 

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Today’s agenda — pet-sitting.

Today’s agenda — pet-sitting for my buddy Schrodinger while he’s out of town:

1) Let the dogs out;
2) Ascertain why the caged bird sings; and
3) Take special care of the little cat, but also kill it.

 

 

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Photo credit: Meathead Movers [CC BY-SA 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)%5D

 

Cover to “Grendel Tales: The Devil in Our Midst” #5, Matt Wagner, 1994

Dark Horse Comics.

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“At Last The Secret Is Out,” by W. H. Auden

At last the secret is out,
as it always must come in the end,
the delicius story is ripe to tell
to tell to the intimate friend;
over the tea-cups and into the square
the tongues has its desire;
still waters run deep, my dear,
there’s never smoke without fire.

Behind the corpse in the reservoir,
behind the ghost on the links,
behind the lady who dances
and the man who madly drinks,
under the look of fatigue
the attack of migraine and the sigh
there is always another story,
there is more than meets the eye.

For the clear voice suddently singing,
high up in the convent wall,
the scent of the elder bushes,
the sporting prints in the hall,
the croquet matches in summer,
the handshake, the cough, the kiss,
there is always a wicked secret,
a private reason for this.

 

AudenVanVechten1939

“Dreams … light up dark rooms, or darken light ones …”

“Thus fortified I might take my rest in peace. But dreams come through stone walls, light up dark rooms, or darken light ones, and their persons make their exits and their entrances as they please, and laugh at locksmiths.”

― Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, “Carmilla,” 1872

 

The_Evil_Mothers_by_Giovanni_Segantini

“The Evil Mothers,” by Giovanni Segantini, 1894

Nurse Your Favorite Heresies in Whispers