Spoiler warning: Contains season five spoilers
The return of AMC’s undead megahit is further proof that The Walking Dead is one of the best things on telly. It’s exciting, superbly acted, well written, and it’s as good as it’s ever been, if not better. But watching has started to feel like a peculiarly predictable form of masochism, like plunging your face into a thicket of nettles once a week because occasionally you like the smell. The Walking Dead has been back for one episode – and I’m already completely depressed.
Back in October I watched the opening episode of series five with my mouth agape in awe, half-chewed popcorn disgustingly presented to the world, and thinking: “This is one of the best episodes I’ve ever seen. Ever.” Rick and the survivors languished in the long pig gulag of Terminus, furiously gearing themselves up for what promised to be the almighty dust-up of almighty dust-ups. Their fellow detainees were slaughtered in front of them, their killer slitting their throats over a trough, working his way down the line of kneeling prisoners. It was terrifying.
Then came Carol, storming in like a mighty Terminator with a feathered pixie hairdo. Fights. Loud bangs. Standoffs. Innumerable zombie deaths. Triumph. When the episode finished, I had to go for a walk to wrap my head around the brilliance of what I’d just seen.
After this, the series inevitably simmered down. The show hardly relaxed into jam sandwiches, knock-knock jokes and daisy chains, but episodes came and went, and they were fine. There was some walking and talking in the woods, some time in a church with a priest who’d done a bad thing, and some people in a hospital who turned out to be unpleasant. A couple of members of the group died. And then, by the end of the first half of the series, The Walking Dead – the show that only a few episodes ago had been the greatest thing since the invention of the flushing latrine – felt a bit boring.
It seemed tired and predictable: of course the priest had done a bad thing, because this is The Walking Dead. Of course some members of the group died, because ditto. And of course the people in the hospital were deplorable, because, in the world of The Walking Dead, anyone who isn’t under the stewardship of Rick Grimes is 110% likely to be an evil, sadistic bastard. They never meet anyone nice. It’s exhausting. The Walking Dead doesn’t surprise you. It just continues.
And so it was last night, with a predictable 45-minute ordeal: an entire, exhausting episode devoted to Tyreese’s hallucinatory kicking of the metaphorical bucket. Why are we doing this to ourselves?
The graphic novels on which the show is based are still being written, and I wonder if this is The Walking Dead’s problem – the interminability of it. The reveal that Eugene didn’t hold a panacea in his mulleted little head robbed the show of a narrative urgency. It was good to think there might be an endgame. Instead, Eugene admitted that any light at the end of the tunnel was caused by his pants being on fire, and that humanity was utterly doomed.
So, the show just keeps going. Our miserable group of people will continue to wander around. They’ll meet new people, who’ll turn out to be evil. A skirmish will ensue. Someone will die. The show will rumble on with its “people, not zombies, are the real evil” message until the world actually ends. And I’m not sure I can keep putting myself through its emotional wringer.
Basing a big-budget show around complex characters rather than its situation is what set The Walking Dead apart, lending the show the sort of dramatic heft often not seen in high-concept fare. But it might also be the show’s undoing. It’s great seeing Daryl and Rick’s bromance blossom, or Glenn and Maggie snatch the odd fleeting moment of happiness as the world turns to necrotic mush around them, but they’re all probably going to die soon anyway, so what’s the point? Without hope for humanity’s reprieve, the only narrative aces the show has up its sleeve are the characters. Killing them is all it can do. They’re going to murder Daryl because they can – and I don’t think I can handle that. Not after Tyreese. Not after Beth. I’m still mourning Herschel.
Of course, I’m going to keep watching the new season, and of course I’m going to be sucked right back in. But investing in the show again is like joining a gym – I’ll be knowingly committing to a harrowing relationship of perennial grimness.
This article was corrected on 10 Feb to state The Walking Dead is produced by AMC, not ABC
