Death Becomes Them
By Ben Taylor
As the television season sputtered to a finish two weeks ago, most network shows displayed the usual signs of writing and acting staffs stretched to their limits. Cranking out 22 episodes over eight months can leave even the best shows running low on creative energy. Meanwhile, on HBO, The Sopranos concluded another 13-episode season without the slightest sign of exhaustion. Some griped about the finale because it left too many plot lines unresolved and didn’t end in a flourish of melodrama. But that’s exactly what has made The Sopranos stand out from typical network television shows: It actually explores its characters in depth and refuses to resolve its conflicts neatly.
With 9.5 million viewers tuning in to The Sopranos each week, HBO beat out every other major network except for FOX in the ratings for the 8 p.m. Central/9 p.m. Eastern time slot on Sunday night. This may not seem like a big deal, but the major networks reach most every home in America, while HBO reaches only one-third that number. Which means that the network is now acutely aware of the attention being paid its original programming. As a result, Six Feet Under, the cable network’s first new original drama since The Sopranos started, is in a rather precarious place. The show has to prove that HBO’s strong programming isn’t just a fluke and that it merits the rather audacious tag, “It’s not TV. It’s HBO.”
Having seen the first three episodes of Six Feet Under, I can say that the show will probably get lots of comparisons with The Sopranos. If ABC once labeled its family-friendly Friday-night lineup “TGIF,” then HBO may soon be able to label Sunday nights “Black Sunday.” A strained family who own and run a funeral home in Los Angeles, Six Feet Under’s Fishers share much in common with Tony and company; death is a central factor in both families’ lives. Beyond that, both shows are awash in dark humor, and both use a little magical realism to express characters’ interior dramas. Ultimately, though, Six Feet Under deserves its own due as an extremely well-written and challenging show.
The impressive but difficult pilot debuts June 3. Written and directed by creator Alan Ball, who won the Best Screenplay Oscar for American Beauty last year, the episode is an open mocking of network television. As with most of Six Feet’s writing staff, Ball is an ex-network television scribe and delights in playing with TV conventions. The show begins with a parody commercial for a new, top-of-the-line hearse in which a beautiful woman runs her hand along the vehicle as if it were the newest-model Porsche. Right from the start, Ball lets you know that this will not be predictable advertising-driven programming—a creative freedom HBO can afford. Three more commercials—for an embalming fluid, a wound-filler cream, and, my favorite, an earth shaker—pop up later in the episode. Ball obviously wants to establish the difference between his show and regular TV, and one shrewd way he’s done this is by skewering advertising’s cold, cynical capitalism.
After the opening commercial, we meet family patriarch Nathaniel Fisher (Richard Jenkins), who’s driving his new hearse, which his wife Ruth (Frances Conroy) claims is a midlife-crisis luxury item. Within a matter of seconds, though, Nathaniel’s car is struck by a bus, killing him instantly. It’s Christmas Eve, and we’re introduced to the rest of the characters as they get the news: the middle child, David (Michael C. Hall), a closeted homosexual who has reluctantly but dutifully followed in his father’s vocational footsteps; the youngest child, daughter Claire (Lauren Ambrose), who’s smart but wallowing in teen angst and self-absorption; and the eldest child, the aimless, impetuous Nate (Peter Krause).
One thing missing from each child’s reaction is tears or genuine mourning—which isn’t to say that emotions aren’t running high. This family expresses mixed feelings about its patriarch, which is perhaps why he doesn’t really leave the show: Nathaniel continues to appear to the children in the following episodes. In some ways he’s like a ghost, a mystery they could never figure out, but in other ways, he’s more like an integral part of their consciousness, embodied here in spectral form.
This pilot episode is Alan Ball’s first time out as a director. While he handles the basics well, he seems to have taken too much inspiration from Annette Bening’s performance in American Beauty. The emotional tension is ratcheted up by the death in the family, and several scenes of shrill screaming had me ready to bolt from the room for relief. But at the same time, Ball has established a distinct mood for the show. Given the business they’re in, the Fishers are constantly reminded of life’s consequences, and that leaves them feeling a little high-strung. We too are reminded that life is indeed short, as each episode begins with the demise of Fisher & Sons’ newest corpse.
Once the show settles into its groove, it’s just as rewarding as The Sopranos—especially as the members of this fractured family attempt to live with each other. Nate and David are forced to redefine their relationship, while Claire and her mother try to find something resembling a mother/daughter dynamic. Added to the mix are the enjoyable supporting characters, such as Ruth’s irritatingly empathetic best friend and the mortuary’s restorative artist, who treats his work as though it were an art form.
Six Feet Under probably won’t achieve the mass popularity of The Sopranos, which offers the irresistible excitement of the gangster myth and its attractively dangerous personalities. Six Feet Under, meanwhile, is a little blacker in humor and closer to a normal drama. All the same, HBO has succeeded in living up to its promise with this show: smart, uncompromising television that wouldn’t stand a chance on the broadcast networks.
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