John From Cincinnati: The Complete Series

---

Tools:
Send to a friend »

---

It is entirely possible I don´t under "John from Cincinnati" on the level creator David Milch intends. I will fully grant that possibility. After all, if I don´t "get it" after watching all ten episodes of the series and listening to two Milch commentary tracks, maybe the premise is too dense for most audiences. And the one audience which might understand the series isn´t necessarily watching television. On the other hand, I will also happily entertain the notion Milch doesn´t know what the series is about and, thus, can never help us wrap our arms around it. In fact, we´re treated to the writer explaining a pivotal scene to the entire cast and crew on set in the Special Features. The way he deconstructs each sentence of a dream sequence-and the ensuing reactions of the people gathered around him-makes me wonder is anyone fully comprehends it.

The world of Imperial Beach, California, is populated by eccentric people. A former surf god, his volatile wife, druggie son, lecherous corporate-types, porn star mothers…and the mysterious "John." Who is this person who repeats selected lines from everyone around him? Where did he come from? Why does he insist the end is near or that young Shaun (Fletcher Greyson) is going to disappear? What is his purpose with this selected group of people all intent on created the most depressing existence for themselves?

Maybe I should ask one more question in regards to John (Austin Nichols). Who cares? In the commentary track for the series finale, Milch vaguely admits to being pissed off due to opportunities which have been taken away from him. Whether he is referring to his cancelled "Deadwood" or to the (merciful) execution of this series he never says. In some ways, he insists, "John from Cincinnati" is about finding ways to maintain the faith when it looks as though the world is coming to an end. Is this show catharsis for him since his acclaimed "Deadwood´ was yanked out from underneath him? A program completely unconventional, filled with spiritual innuendo and designed to get under people´s skin. It is a departure for HBO, a series they launched after the finale of "The Sopranos." Clearly it was intended to take the mob family´s place. After ten episodes, it was canned.

(I will continue to make references to the commentary tracks, not because of they are the biggest and best ever produced. Rather, it is because these "talks" are the only way for the audience to figure out what happens on screen.)

A series doesn´t need to lay out its plan for an ongoing arc in the first episode, yet it needs to give the audience some sense of direction sometime in the first season, preferably early on so they know what they are getting into. What would the first hour of "The Lord of the Rings" be like without critical backstory and exposition regarding Middle Earth? It might be watchable based on the anticipation of what comes after, but the film would surely loose people. The same goes here. It isn´t until Milch´s commentary do we fully understand the purpose of the series: to show seven people have their lives changed and therefore go forward and change the world in the next seven years (a date of September 11, 2014 is bandied about).

So, in that respect, the disjointed characters we´re given here are sort of a prelude to the series proper. Without this backstory, we don´t know where they get their "marching orders" from. The problem is this long range storyline is never articulated through 90% of the series. It´s not until Linc (Luke Perry) takes a leap of faith in the finale and starts talking to John in "his language" do any answers really start popping up. Again, by that point, it´s entirely too late. We´ve gone through enough angst with Cissy (Rebecca De Mornay), depression with Bill (Ed O´Neill), moments of zen with Mitch (Bruce Greenwood) and all other manner of emotions with the rest of the cast-none of which amount to a hill of beans in the season-to become invested in the conversation. It´s the type of dialogue the first episode needed, instead of the finale.

Ostensibly, "John from Cincinnati" bills itself as a surfing show. And truth be told, if the story focused a little more on the surfing and a little less on the supernatural mumbo-jumbo, more people might have tuned in, thus allowing the story to continue. The series pulls a bait-and-switch with the audience, promoting itself as one thing and ending up being something else entirely. The series excels when any particular episode sticks as close as it can to the surfing. And, honestly, even when the topic revolves around the central mystery and John´s seeming double speak, one thing continues to save it: the cast.

Each person on screen, according to Milch, was brought in based on an identifiable former role. He specifically cites Luke Perry from "Beverly Hills, 90210" and Mark-Paul Gosselaar ("Saved by the Bell"), yet nearly every one of the faces on screen is immediately recognizable from some other program. Bruce Greenwood has a list of film credits a mile long; Luis Guzman was the star of his own ill-fated Fox sitcom; Willie Garson´s signature role was on HBO´s "Sex and the City;" Matt Winston will be known to sci fi fans from his stint on "Star Trek: Enterprise;" Emily Rose has roles on both "Jericho" and "Brothers and Sisters;" O´Neill is Al Bundy; and the list goes on. They are the reason to watch every episode. While is it entirely possible this is O´Neill´s best career work (a mumbling, depressed, lost retired police officer), it is impossible to take your eyes off of De Mornay. The most emotionally unhinged of the characters, Cissy comes close to being a caricature of the person she is supposed to be. Loud, obnoxious, overbearing, full of hate…not to mention a revelation made near the end of the series which undoubtedly impacted her relationship with son Butchie…she rings true despite being nearly cartoonish.

---

---