This HBO series was ground-breaking from the start, giving the lie to the old gibe that the US is incapable of producing quality, radical television. Not just the subject matter - death and how we deal with loss - but the family of funeral directors and their relationships, has stretched the boundaries of what is acceptable on the small screen. In 63 episodes, recently watched on videotape and DVD, we are drawn into the lives, loves and sexuality of what becomes less like a dysfunctional family and more like real people, real relationships: the realities of an affluent post-industrial secular society.
I have never seen, and sadly don't think I will again see, such an intimate dissection of family life, explored in such depth and at such length, but always with affection and spade-loads of black humour. It is said that once drama series start to focus more on character than story and situation, they tend to drift towards cosiness. (Remember MASH, which veered from its original hard edge to a sentimental exploration of wartime relationships.) Instead, Six Feet Under's relentless swings and roundabouts, sometimes shocking (David's abduction), often cruel (we just knew, didn't we, that Nate would once more wreck his relationship with Brenda, even with a baby on the way and a child to care for), always believable (Billy & Brenda and their boundary-free mother), often jaw-dropping (Claire and the purloined foot, the stiff with a stiffy, Rico casually replacing the back of a corpse's scull), never let up on the realism.
The performances were almost all excellent, the two main leads (Peter Krause and Michael C. Hall) only relatively poor in such company. I particularly liked Claire (Lauren Ambrose) and Rico (Freddy Rodriguez), but to single them out seems hard on the others, specially Brenda (Rachel Griffiths) and her faultless American accent. But what stands out for me were the characterisations. What a gift to Frances Conroy to have her inhabit a perfectly realised late-middle-aged woman (Ruth) with so much to reveal behind the domesticity. It's a role that most actresses of her age would die for (!), and she gave it everything and then some. And the final series once more allowed the actors full reign to their musical talents (perhaps an original casting requirement), returning to the lip-synch breakout performances which were a feature of the first episodes. Lauren Ambrose, in particular, revels.
And that was while they were still alive; the final act was to allow Nate's brain condition to return, sending the family into a tailspin of tragedy (but final uplift, a magical last five minutes) from which they, just like their professional clients, have to recover. Even without so many hours in the company of these troubled but fully realised characters, the ending would sear its way into memory; but having watched the whole five sets, it is in my view the finest conclusion of a television drama series. It's possible that Alan Ball and his creative team viewed these as a potential, rather than actual, set of future lives; after all, knowing what we do about them, is it likely that these people would still be with the partners we last saw them with, twenty or thirty years hence ? But the last few minutes seems more like an affectionate coda to the present, allowing them finally to find some contentment (but with one exception: SFU could never be *that* optimistic) in the future.
There are some minor quibbles. Sometimes the fantasy-wish-fulfilment-dream sequences were overdone, so that when the characters really did lose temper or break control the impact was lessened because we'd seen that 'not' happen so many times before. Some of the relationship breakups and recoveries seemed overly rapid, so that what looked irrevocable was healed in the next one or two episodes. And given the subject matter, it must have been tempting for the writers to rely on shock and awe yet again (the lift, the cougar, the mixing machine) rather than explore the more mundane realities of death. Middle America, if not Middle England, must have been several times provoked, sometimes deliberately.
So, get the DVDs and allow yourself to be drawn in; forget the contrivances (the opening sequences usually have little to do with the rest of the episodes), and spend 63 or so hours of your life with these annoying, funny, disappointing, sexy, talented, and wonderfully real people. You'll never forget them.
I have never seen, and sadly don't think I will again see, such an intimate dissection of family life, explored in such depth and at such length, but always with affection and spade-loads of black humour. It is said that once drama series start to focus more on character than story and situation, they tend to drift towards cosiness. (Remember MASH, which veered from its original hard edge to a sentimental exploration of wartime relationships.) Instead, Six Feet Under's relentless swings and roundabouts, sometimes shocking (David's abduction), often cruel (we just knew, didn't we, that Nate would once more wreck his relationship with Brenda, even with a baby on the way and a child to care for), always believable (Billy & Brenda and their boundary-free mother), often jaw-dropping (Claire and the purloined foot, the stiff with a stiffy, Rico casually replacing the back of a corpse's scull), never let up on the realism.
The performances were almost all excellent, the two main leads (Peter Krause and Michael C. Hall) only relatively poor in such company. I particularly liked Claire (Lauren Ambrose) and Rico (Freddy Rodriguez), but to single them out seems hard on the others, specially Brenda (Rachel Griffiths) and her faultless American accent. But what stands out for me were the characterisations. What a gift to Frances Conroy to have her inhabit a perfectly realised late-middle-aged woman (Ruth) with so much to reveal behind the domesticity. It's a role that most actresses of her age would die for (!), and she gave it everything and then some. And the final series once more allowed the actors full reign to their musical talents (perhaps an original casting requirement), returning to the lip-synch breakout performances which were a feature of the first episodes. Lauren Ambrose, in particular, revels.
And that was while they were still alive; the final act was to allow Nate's brain condition to return, sending the family into a tailspin of tragedy (but final uplift, a magical last five minutes) from which they, just like their professional clients, have to recover. Even without so many hours in the company of these troubled but fully realised characters, the ending would sear its way into memory; but having watched the whole five sets, it is in my view the finest conclusion of a television drama series. It's possible that Alan Ball and his creative team viewed these as a potential, rather than actual, set of future lives; after all, knowing what we do about them, is it likely that these people would still be with the partners we last saw them with, twenty or thirty years hence ? But the last few minutes seems more like an affectionate coda to the present, allowing them finally to find some contentment (but with one exception: SFU could never be *that* optimistic) in the future.
There are some minor quibbles. Sometimes the fantasy-wish-fulfilment-dream sequences were overdone, so that when the characters really did lose temper or break control the impact was lessened because we'd seen that 'not' happen so many times before. Some of the relationship breakups and recoveries seemed overly rapid, so that what looked irrevocable was healed in the next one or two episodes. And given the subject matter, it must have been tempting for the writers to rely on shock and awe yet again (the lift, the cougar, the mixing machine) rather than explore the more mundane realities of death. Middle America, if not Middle England, must have been several times provoked, sometimes deliberately.
So, get the DVDs and allow yourself to be drawn in; forget the contrivances (the opening sequences usually have little to do with the rest of the episodes), and spend 63 or so hours of your life with these annoying, funny, disappointing, sexy, talented, and wonderfully real people. You'll never forget them.