I've got a bizarre relationship with this show. On one hand, I can't stop watching it; I don't know why. On the other, I hope that whoever's been writing this is next on Joe's Followers' list. The straw that broke the camel's back had to be in the fourth episode of the second season "Family Affair." It's no secret that the authorities are portrayed with absolute ineptitude on this show, and they have been, for quite some time; YouTube's "Retarded Policeman" probably would've taken down the entire cult by now, but it wasn't until today that the laziness of the writing was so inherently present that it caused me to literally shout at my phone, as I watched the events take place. In the episode, Ryan Hardy has tracked one of Carrol's followers to Grand Central Station, with the help of his niece; in post-9/11 New York, said follower looks about as inconspicuous as Adolf Hitler, in full Nazi regalia, at a Bar Mitzvah. For once, it seems like Hardy's got his guy (or gal, in this case). Then, it happens; after he's finally countered the beating she's been trying to give him, he pulls out his side arm, and...she screams. "Help! He's got a gun!" There's the call to action; suddenly, Kevin Bacon has two businessmen the size of linebackers grabbing his arms, as she makes her way into the train.
Under normal circumstances, I'd say "Hey! That's a pretty neat way to turn a familiar concept upside down!" "The Following" is anything, but normal. This show has a very interesting portrayal of bystanders, in that they are practically cardboard background dressings that breathe. In season 1, a lady gets shot at her table in a diner with a harpoon gun; you heard that right, A ****ING HARPOON GUN!!!! As her assailant marches away, and the lady sits, impaled at her table; her friend screaming for help, everyone looks as though they're still eating their meals. Another season 1 episode: some dude in a creepy-*** Edgar Allan Poe mask sets someone ON FIRE next to a Hot Dog Vendor on the streets. People stand there, watching the guy burn; no one throws a coat over him or tries to help; no one tries to stop the dude who's literally sticking out like a sore thumb (he never took off the Poe mask!); they just stand there.
Yet, somehow, these cardboard standees come alive whenever a plot device is needed to keep their Tom & Jerry routine going on a little while longer. To any aspiring writers out there, I say "go for it." If these people are getting paid to write Network television, so could you. To any apes who are tired of flinging their ***** matter from behind Iron bars and are looking for a more professional venue to do so, I say give The Following writer's room a try. I'm sure your **** hitting the page wouldn't be much different than what's being delivered right now.
