Someone asked me the other day why I started this site, what I hoped to do with it. It’s a fair question, given that the world really doesn’t need another blog, my first post notwithstanding.
It’s simple. I like stories, in any format: book, TV, films…if someone sits down across from me and says, ‘the best thing happened the other day…’ I’m there. I want to hear what happened.
And I like to talk about those stories. (This will come as no shock to my close friends or to those who hang out at Bonesology, our Bones forum.) And while the forum meets my needs to
discuss obsess over Bones, I don’t have a good place to discuss Criminal Minds, or NCIS, or Newsroom, or the In Death novels, or Fringe.
For me, a good story has three requirements: it has to be about sympathetic, likable characters, it has to have interesting relationships, and it has to be going somewhere. Things have to progress. People have to change, the story has to be heading toward some resolution. Oh, and while I appreciate sacrifice and loss, I unapologetically prefer hopeful endings over bitter ones.
Fringe ended its five season run tonight, and I can honestly say it didn’t miss a note. I like these people. I admire them. They’re not perfect (they wouldn’t be as interesting if they were), but they keep trying.
To say that their lives and relationships are complicated is an enormous understatement, but however bizarre the story became (‘what timeline? which universe?’), the emotion stayed true. And while I love all the relationships, the show remained about Peter and Walter for me. Peter and Olivia’s friendship-into-romance was wonderful to watch (another show unafraid of the Moonlighting Curse!)…but my tears were almost always reserved for scenes between father and son. Maybe that’s because my relationship with my own father was extremely complicated, maybe it’s that John Noble is one of the most underrated actors on the planet, but…yeah. I love Olivia to pieces, but at the end of the day, I’m TeamBishop. (Fortunately, I don’t have to choose.)
What was beautiful to me about the finale was how well-balanced it was. There was action, yes, and complicated plot points…and there were tender, emotional moments as well. There was sacrifice, but there was also joy, as we watched an innocent Peter spinning Etta around in the park in the last scene.
I have an urgent desire now that I’ve seen the end to go back to the beginning and watch how things evolve, see how the pieces fit together. I don’t know how often I’ll blog about it, but I’m looking forward to that process, to immersing myself in the story again.
“You are my favorite thing, Peter…my very favorite thing.”
Yes, Walter, I know. And I love you for it.