The Walking Dead Season 7 Finale

The Walking Dead Season 7 Finale

The Walking Dead Season 7 Finale and how Shiva saved Carl

I wrote a pretty harsh post a year ago regarding the Season 6 ending of The Walking Dead. Leaving us with the knowledge that someone just DIED but not knowing who, all summer, for six long terrible excruciating months… Yeah, I was pretty upset.

So, I thought it was only fitting a year later to say thank you to Scott Gimple, Greg Nicotero and the rest of TWD crew for The Walking Dead Season 7 Finale. Instead of Continue reading

Fear The Walking Dead Season 2 Mid-Season Finale

So the mid-season finale of Fear The Walking Dead Season Two was last night.

And I don’t care.

I mean, I watched it. There wasn’t much anticipation on my part, I totally admit. I completely forgot that it was mid-season finale night until about 7:45 so I missed any FTWD  marathon fun that AMC may have run yesterday. Again, I didn’t much care.

But why not? Well, maybe it’s because the Spanish language dialog has continued to increase over the episodes, resulting in more caption text on the television screen for the English speaking crowd. Now, on Sunday nights I get all comfy on the couch, cuddled up with blankies and the cat sometimes, and see, the TV is way over there against the far wall. Normaly I can see everything just fine, but those itsy bitsy teeny weeny captions on the screen are beyond the power of my glasses. If I sit up and shift over to the right side of the couch, I can read them. Laying down in my happy zombie night position, I cannot. And honestly, I have not cared enough to shift my viewing position in order to read the Spanish dialog translated to English in minuscule lettering on my television screen.

I get it. Daniel is from South America, they are now in Mexico, there is a major Latin influence going on in the story arch. But there is atmosphere to flavor a story and then there is overkill. Fear The Walking Dead isn’t a telenovela so in my opinion all this Spanish/English subtitles stuff is overkill. Yes, I knew what a telenovela was ages ago thanks to Jeff Lewis’s housekeeper aka second mom Zoila on Bravo’s Flipping Out. Even Zoila spoke mostly English so I never had to shift my position on the couch to understand the gist of the story. With Fear The Walking Dead, lately I have taken to just laying there, not understanding what the characters are saying for huge chunks of an episode, not really giving a damn.

But I think the real reason why I didn’t care that much about FTWD’s mid-season finale last night is why I haven’t had much enthusiasm for season two as a whole – and I shared this with a friend the other day – I am still just plum pissed off about the Season Six Finale of The Walking Dead. Still haven’t got over the “who did Negan kill” pushing me off the cliff and having to hang there suspended for six months thing. Every Sunday night since then I have cuddled up with the cat to watch Fear The Walking Dead but I have felt cold and dead inside, seething a little in a it’s just a tv show but I’m still angry sort of way.

So between subtitles and lingering TWD fan anger, FTWD has not been enjoyable this time around. And that sucks. Cause normally I love, I treasure, my Sunday night zombies.

 

Who Did Negan Kill? TWD Season 6 Finale

I had a strong reaction to the season six finale of The Walking Dead. I felt the terror, the uncertainty of what was going to happen, then the absolute certainty that someone was going to die. I felt it all day, watching the Walking Dead marathon. Someone was going to die and for the first time since AMC originally aired this zombie apocalypse series in 2010, I felt dread instead of excitement as the hours counted down to the final episode of season 6. Of course people die but this time, I knew it was coming and it was going to be really, really bad. I kinda didn’t want to see it happen. But of course I watched. Duh.

And as I watched Negan smash someone’s brains out, fading into black with only faint, gruesome sounds in the background and then the credits rolled, I shook a little then both middle fingers flew up at the tv screen and I yelled “F you F you F you F you! EFFF YOU. F you F you… oh F you!” until The Talking Dead come on.

There was no one watching with me except the cat so it wasn’t for any audience of my own. It was a gut reaction, raw emotion bubbling up from my core. F YOU. F you for leaving me like that, still not knowing. F you.

I get that the writers and producers of the show wanted to leave us not knowing who Negan beat to a bloody pulp so we would have the same horror in our heads as the characters who had to shut up and watch it. The audience is supposed to be feeling the same terrible emotion knowing that everything we knew just changed. I get it. But I don’t like it one bit. Not one tiny bit.

I woke up Monday morning, kissed the cat and then said out loud “F you” a couple of times then made coffee. I thought back to the previous five seasons and the final scene. Sometimes we’ve had cliff hangers, pretty big ones, but nothing so awful as knowing someone just died a horrific death but nobody knows who it was.

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