When The Walking Dead Shows Promise

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD.

The problem with The Walking Dead has always been one of expectations. The show as a whole was probably never going to live up to that amazing pilot that set the bar so high, but neither was it totally unfair of us to expect that it would. The conceit of the show promises one of two things, either of which could make for great television:

1. A sustained psycho-drama focusing on the slow deterioration--and possible resuscitation--of the human spirit in the face of crushing apocalypse.
2. Straight-up zombie-killin'.

Sadly, TWD never really succeeds at either of these. Not consistently, anyway. The show occasionally finds time for really creative zombie kills (such as last season's "Triggerfinger," when the walker came for Lori, while she was trapped in an upside-down car). However, those comprise about ninety seconds out of fifty-two minutes. The rest of the run-time is often devoted to Rick's vacillations about what the group should do next. That in itself could be worthwhile if it didn't stretch for ten episodes. And if the creators had better staged the Rick vs. Shane, good vs. evil struggle for the group's soul. But they never could and the group went nowhere. And then Shane was dead.

Meanwhile, characters bicker back and forth and engage in aimless relationship squabbles--yes, relationship squabbles, because no one on this show has a sense of perspective. And that's how, like any other soap opera, all the characters become unlikable no matter how much you really want to like them. Well, not "all the characters;" the show could improve immeasurably if they kill off every character whose name doesn't rhyme with "barrel." 

And this disappointment is made worse because it's borne out of frustration. Because every so often, TWD demonstrates what it's capable of.

The first season--limping some after the pilot--ended with the destruction of the CDC and a group of survivors on the road, with no safe haven. That could make for some great drama in the second season, with these people moving into new, hostile territory every week and learning about the post-zombie apocalypse world. Then the whole group is consigned to The Farm. Promising new arcs were teased there, only for most of them to fizzle out, if they got that far. Lori is pregnant and Shane is dead. You're caught up.

Then, the climax of "Pretty Much Dead Already" capped off a half-season-long arc about Sophia's whereabouts in an earth-shattering way. It was stunning. And heartbreaking. Yeah, the slow-burn reveal came about two episodes later than would've been ideal, but we could let that slide. After all, this meant they finally got to leave The Farm. It meant several characters confronting new realities and new roles within the group. It meant that the writers were finally done biding their time. And then... they stayed on The Farm. And nothing changed except that instead of talking about "finding Sophia," they were talking about "remember how Sophia used to be alive?" It was remarkable how fast the show fell back into a rut.

Then there was that season's finale, which opened with a literal barnstorming: a big, lengthy group kill-in of invading walkers. It was exciting and satisfying in every way that this series had missed out on being since the pilot. Now they had to leave The Farm. And now the group was split up, promising new drama. But, just moments after Rick is breaking down over the fact that his wife is missing and his group has splintered, most of the group rolls into view, hugs are exchanged, and nothing more is said. Andrea is missing, I guess, but she runs into Michonne, who--even for those (like myself) who haven't read the comics--already looks crazy badass. Meanwhile, back at the group, people are getting hyper-pissy about Rick keeping secret the thing about everyone being infected. Which, yeah, dick move. But, really, what were you going to do with that information except moan? You know, like you're doing right now. Just twenty minutes previously, we were wallowing in zombie-rific action and now we're mired in the same old go-nowhere muck, with a slight hint at an exciting new direction. Like the direction we've been promised before and have yet to see the fruits of.

And yet we tune in. Because we know the tools are there. We know the material exists in abundance because we've seen them tease some truly great stories and we can't help but think about the possibilities. As Cracked's Dan O'Brien has written:

The Walking Dead is successful because people are tuning in but watching a different, better show in their imaginations, every single week.

Which leads us to last night's season three premiere. The Farm is a (bad) memory. The group is on the move and Rick is finally looking assertive and decisive; nothing like killing your former best friend/cuckold/would-be murderer to get the blood flowing. The introduction to the prison has pitfalls of its own, but it might be worthwhile for the introduction of a new crew of survivors, assuming they don't squander that opportunity, as they did in "Nebraska" last season. The Governor may force some interesting character choices.  And T-Dog got more than half a line. There are a lot of places to go from here, most of them good. Things might finally be looking up for The Walking Dead.

But I think I've said that before.