Dueling divas! Political intrigue! Young folks looking to Make! It! Big! That was the promise of Nashville, ABC's now-canceled prime-time drama about our city and its most attractive citizens, but that wasn't quite what we got. Rayna Jaymes (Connie Britton), a superstar singer with relationship woes, evolved into Saint Rayna, the woman who could do no wrong. Slogging storylines about government grift ended with those players either dead or in prison. And the less said about the East Nashville love triangles, the better.
But it was never a bad show! It was a middling show, an arguably worse designation in our hate-watching world. There was a throw-everything-to-the-wall approach to subplots, and it turns out none of them stuck. Why bother learning the names of Deacon's (Chip Esten) assorted girlfriends when we know he's going to end up with Rayna? Why pay attention to a character played by Christina Aguilera, who will never be a regular cast member? Guys, two words: sober companion. And I'll double-check IMDb, but I'm pretty sure it's the only show that's featured Michelle Obama, Zac Brown and Wyclef Jean as guest stars.
But there were good parts, too — sometimes great. Hayden Panettiere as Juliette Barnes was consistently delightful. Some of it was writing — Juliette's sarcasm and brattiness made her the only character ever allowed to make a joke — and some of it acting. Panettiere was happy to chew a little scenery now and then. The addition of Will Lexington (Chris Carmack) as a gay country singer on the brink of stardom gave viewers someone to root for, even though he never seemed to be allowed to win, thanks to his pesky self-loathing as well as industry-wide bigotry.
And the villains! Oh, I loved the villains. Powers Boothe as Lamar Wyatt, Rayna's father, would show up in the early seasons to glower and threaten. There was Kimberly Williams-Paisley as nutbag Peggy Kenter, the would-be political wife who ended up dumping a tub of pork blood in the toilet to fake a miscarriage. And Oliver Hudson as handsome dickhead Jeff Fordham was the sociopathic antagonist of my dreams, fucking shit up for no other reason than it was his job to be the bad guy.
They all died horrible, horrible deaths.
The "hipster" contingent of the show — young-adjacent people who lived in 2,500-square-foot East Nashville bungalows in spite of waiting tables every other episode — seemed like they were written in a way to deliberately provoke me, personally. They are all very talented, and they all work very hard, so if their first shot at success is a misfire, well, it only makes sense they'd get another chance, and then another! They always did very normal, relatable stuff, like move to a new city and almost instantly become friends and colleagues with a Faith Hill-level figure. I think we've all been there.
Scarlett (Clare Bowen), bless her heart, was a dollar-store gel-pen set. A rug shaped like a cat's head used for story time in a second-grade classroom. Someone who found the Microsoft Word paperclip very, very helpful. Too beautiful and too delicate for this world, she suffered from debilitating stage fright, except when she didn't. She had a pill problem that was resolved in a handful of episodes. She was institutionalized, and then we never spoke of it again. She was a poet and a songwriter. A simple country girl who would have been more at home dying elegantly of tuberculosis in the 19th century than performing in arenas. All the boys, of course, fell in love with her.
The boys were Gunnar (Sam Palladio) and Avery (Jonathan Jackson), and I swear they flat-out switched personalities during the run of the show. Avery, the stereotypically entitled turd-bro in love with his ~*art*~ turned into a sympathetic single father so gradually I could have sworn I was watching a Lifetime movie. Gunnar ... did stuff, and then he dated Scarlett's best friend for a while, and then he ... got a haircut? Also, his brother got murdered, but he only seemed to bring it up right after doing something boneheaded. He is also, apparently, Nashville's most in-demand songwriter.
But Nashville was never about them. It was about Rayna, the Strong Female Character whose only flaw was being in love with a middle-aged crybaby alcoholic. Rayna, a well-respected singer, producer, businesswoman, wife, mother, sister, friend and mentor who constantly got all the hot men (not to get all safe-space on you), was pretty blind to her own privilege. "Fame is bad!" she'd say in her mansion, paid for by fans. "Riches are trappings!" she'd say in her private jet. Rayna: Come on.
Love-of-her-life Deacon Claybourne plateaued in maturity somewhere around 22 years old, then coasted by on his talent (sure, whatever) and good looks (more believable) for the next quarter-century. Rayna married Teddy Conrad (Eric Close), a man so inept at political strategy he makes Cersei Lannister look like Frank Underwood. She also had a romantic interlude with Luke Wheeler (Will Chase), a country superstar who had the profound moral failing of actually enjoying being a country superstar. But Rayna and Deacon are together now. Or they're not. Whatever.
There is one thing the show did very well, and that was treat the real city of Nashville with respect. They filmed here, hired local actors and crew, and made a show that presented Tennesseans as non-hicks, which is something that didn't happen in pop culture for, oh, the entire 20th century. The show actually cared about the music, too, and the songs were the best part of every episode. They were a breather from the fast-paced editing, and gave the cast a chance to show that they were hired for reasons other than their hair.
Of course, it may not be over yet. Like Scarlett's fifth big break or Deacon's umpteenth attempt at sobriety, will Nashville get another chance? Show co-producer Lionsgate has opened the door to the series potentially finding a new home at another network or online. If not, there's always fan fiction. Tune in to your imaginations for Season 5 of Nashville, wherein Maddie and Daphne (Lennon and Maisy Stella) headline at Coachella against Rayna's wishes, and Layla (Aubrey Peebles) straight-up murders someone.
