I Watched That Thing

The truth about this season of True Detective has been right before our eyes, in plain sight, all season long.

Leonard Cohen even sings as much leading into each and every episode:

The war was lost

The treaty signed

I was not caught

I crossed the line

I was not caught

Though many tried

I live among you

Well disguised

I had to leave

My life behind

I dug some graves

You’ll never find

The story’s told

With facts and lies

I have a name

But nevermind

Nevermind all the facts and lies and stories told. The man who orchestrated all this evil lives among you, well disguised. He has a name, but nevermind.

Well, I think this name we’re not supposed to care about is “Frank Semyon.” Why? Let’s begin with this really, really long list of the facts, lies, and stories told that we’ve seen so far.

What We’ve Learned

Frank wants to go legit.

Frank had a deal with Ben Caspere to buy cheap land in to the Corridor Valley.

He’s liquidated all his money and pulled out of criminal enterprises he owned and ran. On paper, he’s clean. And he’s making it clear in a very public way.

Caspere was killed with $5 million of Frank’s money—not yet invested, no records, nothing tying Frank to any deal except Frank’s own saying so.

Caspere’s disappearance comes at a very inconvenient time for Frank…but also at a time where no one else but Frank could put all the necessary parties together—at least that’s how it appears.

Frank doesn’t like Chessani as he’s an obstacle to where Frank wants to go, but needs to deal with him.

Frank has a little bit of leverage on Chessani in that he helped clean up a drug-related matter involving his son, Tony, a few years before.

It’s obvious that Chessani and his son aren’t exactly concealing what they’re doing. They believe they are beyond the law, through their connections and their grip on Vinci.

Catalyst and Frank never had any direct dealings until after Caspere was killed.

Frank was surprised to learn that Caspere took more of his money than was necessary for the land deal, and used some of it to feed his personal habits.

Frank’s a little paranoid, never too comfortable and always suspicious of every move, look, or touch that happens in and around his world.

Frank uses big words and has been made to look silly so often. And it’s by his own design.

Frank is too smart and too careful to not know all of this was happening.

Do we really believe that Frank, a career criminal and cynic, would make liquid everything he has and put all those millions of eggs in one basket?

Caspere was tortured, systematically and in brutal fashion, for something he did to someone he crossed.

Caspere was taking compromising videos of subjects to use as leverage in his dealings with the California elite.

Caspere’s mutilated body was dumped at the Point Mugu overlook, a place that was conveniently sponsored by Catalyst.

These powerbrokers that Caspere was involved with—and probably ready to blackmail with explicit videos of odd sexual behaviors—don’t have the time or would want to assume the risk of leaving such a statement or signature on a body. Only someone that tortures enemies and has that kind of history would make a statement and do something like that.

Or possibly someone who wants to implicate another party in a strange and bizarrely specific crime scene that blazes a direct trail to one place.

We know the Raven masked killer murdered Caspere in that Hollywood sound proofed sex pad.

Frank sent Ray to that address. Why would he know that address?

Ray was subsequently shotgunned with police-issued riot dispersal ammo so he would live. So he would tell the tale of the now missing video camera and hard drive with the compromising footage that’s out there in the world. So everyone knows it’s out there and everyone’s nervous about what’s on it.

Blake has been mysteriously absent during the crucial major events that have happened. Blake is also Frank’s right hand man, and definitely doesn’t have a soul.

Frank conspicuously calls out Blake among all his crew, so now people think there is bad blood between them. Now, everyone is suspicious of Blake and his activities and beyond where his true loyalty lies.

If Blake isn’t in lockstep with Frank and his wishes, he’d be replaced. We’ve seen what happens to people that don’t play nice and toe the line, right Danny Santos?

Caspere knew about and had the diamonds that have roughly the same value as the money that Frank is missing.

We know Teague Dixon was probably dealing with the pawnshops and looking for the blue diamonds, the diamonds we know were connected to a robbery by masked robbers during the LA Riots.

Ani, Ray and Paul all have skeletons in their closets. They’re all not very good cops for various reasons. But we’re supposed to think that they randomly ended up on this high level, high priority task force.

Frank supposedly owned the building that housed both Ledo Amarilla and the meth lab where the shootout took place.

Frank didn’t look all that worried that a building he owned exploded, yet did look invested in what was happening.

The shootout was obviously rigged to get rid of all the players on the board, and pin the Caspere murder on Ledo Amarilla.

Frank’s rivals and former business partners are all turning up dead. But he, the leader and facilitator, is still alive.

Frank was in league with Osip, but probably never truly trusted him.

Frank also knew that Osip would predictably be tempted by and trade up to be in league with those deeper pockets, like McCandless and the folks at Catalyst.

We also know that there was a tall white “cop” who paid Irena Rulfo to pawn Caspere’s belongings.

Know who is tall, really white, has money to pay her off, and he has a mouth that he can use tell Rulfo that he’s a “cop”? Blake.

Irena conveniently turned up dead so that she couldn’t finger anyone, maybe Blake as the “cop” who paid her to pawn Caspere’s belongings.

Frank may have had a good idea that the cartel guy and the Cisco Kid would kill Irena for “working with cops.”

And isn’t it quite a coincidence that right about now, we’re seeing that Frank is a relatable guy that cares for his people, especially the recently departed Stan and the wife and son that have been left behind?

Frank has been working and manipulating both sides for as long as he’s been in California.

Frank also believes that, “Sometimes your worst self is your best self.”

Frank has been a horrible gangster. Which might actually mean he’s the best gangster.

Now It All Makes Sense

Whomever killed Caspere has Frank’s millions, right?

So what if Frank killed Caspere? Then he has his own millions.

What if Frank has been playing the long game all the while?

What if he’s gone above and beyond to make it look like this Bohemian Club-like power sex cult is responsible for all of these goings on?

Frank is haunted by the water spots on his ceiling that look identical to Caspere’s acid washed eyes. How would he know anything about the way his body looked if he didn’t see it or have first hand knowledge of what happened to Caspere?

Frank sent Blake to have Caspere tortured. And later sent him to kill Stan, a relatively insignificant member of Frank’s crew to make it look like someone is gunning for Frank. Frank then goes back—months later—to make a show of how much he cared for his beloved Stan.

Frank most likely sent Lt. Burris to shotgun Ray at the address he provided and to retrieve the camera and hard drive. Then also to arrive at his own crime scene to ensure that any forensic evidence will be ruled out.

For his part in undermining Chessani and his crew, Lt. Burris has probably been promised that he’ll come out clean and take up a leadership position in Vinci.

Frank authorized Blake to use the poker room to run hookers.

Frank hired and used Ray to then track Blake back to Tony Chessani and the stable of “top gear” Eastern European girls.

Frank fabricated this entire thing, put it all in motion.

He wants to make it appear as though Blake is rising up and working against him.

But Frank is pulling all the strings on both sides.

Frank got rid of his criminal assets and enterprises then leveraged his influence to maintain a presence there, hence all those meetings and shitty negotiations.

He’s making it all look good so he’s beyond suspicion.

He’s the one that’s done all this “harm” to himself.

No one would ever suspect a guy who lost everything he had, his house and his life’s work and sabotage his own future. He’s the victim here.

Now, having killed Caspere, Frank has his “clean” millions back.

Plus, when Frank turns up in possession of the hard drive with compromising footage of all those VIPs, he’ll be gifted those parcels of land from McCandless, which now will hold even more value than his originally proposed deal.

Everything—the masked killers, the blue diamonds, very publicly putting Catalyst and Osip and Mayor Chessani all in the same place talking about the land deal, Caspere and Tony’s high end, high-powered sex parties, the death of the much beloved Stan—has been manufactured or leveraged to link everything to California’s elite power structure.

Surely, the crazy power sex cult existed before Frank, but he found a way to leverage them and pin his crimes on this old guard, insane occult conspiracy.

In the end, Frank will have all the money, the blue diamonds, all the land for his legitimate legacy, and none of the opposition…and he’ll have all of it for free. Other than the moral cost of killing Caspere, Stan, and orchestrating the demise of a few cops, innocent citizens, and a couple of Santa Muerte drug dealers.

And after episode 6’s Mission Impossible: Power Sex Party and the escapades of our intrepid-yet-flawed detective task force, Frank’s success is all but sealed, right?

Frank’s worst self is this laughable gangster act he’s been performing all over Los Angeles. And it’s also his best self because he’s the guy no one believes is a gangster anymore—the gangster that gets away with it.

After six episodes and terabytes of material written about the show, people have problems with Season 2 of HBO’s True Detective. And I’ve got two major problems with them having problems.

Problem 1: They Don’t Want to “Get It”

They just don’t get what Nic Pizzolatto is doing. And they never really wanted to. The criticism is fevered, filled with doubt, hate and vitriol. This is most likely fueled by their affinity and emotional connection to Season 1.  

Maybe it’s because it’s not the same as everything else people are used to watching and criticizing (more on that later). This series is not made in easily digestible 52-minute cubes. Maybe it’s because they all want something that they just won’t be given.

Because True Detective isn’t a cop show.

Pizzolatto is doing same thing he did to great critical success last time around. The tropes and the trappings of the noir detective show are just a mood and a backdrop for a larger story, which is the same as the journey we traveled with Rust and Marty.

Sure, this is a story about people who happen to be cops opposed by people who happen to be criminals. But what this series really is a celebration of the randomness that occurs and makes up the pattern of real life and the greater universe. Yes, the characters might be different, come from different locales, motivated by different things, end up in totally different places. And they might not end up anywhere, which might actually be the point.

People really want to compare this season to last. It was going to happen, and there’s always backlash because liking everything doesn’t get people reading blogs and column inches or downloading podcasts. I do think there is value in looking at both seasons and comparing, not the minutiae, but from 30,000 feet high above what’s going on in the bayous and backwaters and the freeways and yoga retreats. From there you see there are many thematic threads that run through both seasons, but above all, there’s one idea that persists throughout: Bad is out there. But so is good.

There is futility and there is hope. There is all of it and it’s careening around smashing into each other at speed all over the place every day.

Another way to think of this show, and maybe life, is as a fractal. So intricately designed, repeating and folding in on itself forever. All of it intertwined. Built of the same stuff. Spinning itself out in different ways, yet replicating the same pattern over and over, manifesting itself again and again. Remember all that “flat circle” business? Yeah, that’s what this show is all about.

Problem 2: The Hate

This time around, it seems that hating on True Detective is the en vogue thing to do. People complain about the structure being exactly the same. Why aren’t these characters worthy of our emotional investment? What’s the point of the first four episodes if it all wipes the slate clean after the hollow, random event that was the Vinci shootout? Why aren’t the detectives doing any detecting? The list goes on.

Other criticisms of this season range from dialogue that borders on silly to the endless sprawl of character and setting to the aerial shots of endless ribbons of freeways that beg the question, “Where exactly are we going?” The answer could very well be “nowhere.” And it’s entirely possible that not everything has a point. So just ride along.

Do we care if these characters get what they want? Should we? Do we know what they want? Do they even want anything? And why do we have to relate to them? Can’t we just watch and speculate what might happen and guess and be wrong and enjoy the ride we’re on?

I’m not going to get into the specifics here of what Ani says to Paul, of Velcoro’s many contorted faces, or how Frank’s heart has blue balls. Why should any of this be held to the standard of “believable”? It’s fiction. No one has a problem with the way anyone speaks in Coen Brothers films. Is what spews forth in an exchange between Tyrion Lannister and Varys each week on Game of Thrones under the same spotlight? No. So why should Pizzolatto and his characters be beholden to the “real talk” police? Guess what—the stuff that Rust and Marty spouted last year wasn’t realistic either.

Can it also be that Pizzolatto is calling everyone out for being too deep and so into the minutiae, looking at this show so seriously that it’s far more ridiculous than the show itself?

Again, this is not a good TV show, precisely because it doesn’t aspire to be a show. This isn’t even an 8-hour film. It’s actually a literary exercise captured on film with talented actors dealing with the random insanity on a page. It’s supposed to confound and get you thinking. Maybe the central conflict is with the viewer and the material and that’s completely intentional. Whatever it is, it’s getting people talking about the form, what we expect, how we live, what we think about, are we the shells rambling around colliding into cultural material we ingest.

For example, the shootout of Episode 4. People have been critical of the episode calling it senseless violence for violence sake. Yes, it was senseless. Yes, it was a bloodbath. But this wasn’t just a senseless bloodbath. It wasn’t just a reset button for the series either. These characters didn’t die, but a part of them did. Their selfishness; their careless walkabout through their depressing, cynical lives that needed to die were killed off on the mean streets of Vinci. These folks weren’t killed, they were awakened. Shaken from their cynical stupor. Faced with death, coming out the other side, they were never more alive. Sixty-six days later, they are moving forward, trying to outpace their old ways. They’re not the same, they don’t have the same jobs, but they do now have a unifying and shared experience that will create a through-line for them as a team and for the story as a whole to carry them through the season and keep them moving forward or else.

Plot-wise, it was supposed to be the way our “Big Bad” planned to dispose of our “heroes”, but it completely backfired.

This is supposed to be bleak. It’s not always going to make sense because life doesn’t always get tied up into a bow.

I want to see where they’re all going and how this season wraps up. I am totally into the sprawling network of roads that connect this soulless LA and its equally nefarious and mysterious northern counterpart. After all, you don’t need to be invested in a rollercoaster to enjoy it, right? Get on, look around, add to it what you will, or just be a passenger. But let’s give HBO, Pizzolatto and the talented folks doing great work in front of the camera, however odd it may be, some massive credit.