First, I waited for the deceased to cool down. There, stretched out on the options menu, between “Amor e Morte” and “Six Feet Under”. Patiently, I waited for the procession of whimpers to pass through friends’ Instagram and tearful Facebook posts.
Afterwards, I resigned myself to the face-to-face litanies of streaming mourners, inconsolable at bar and coffee tables.
When all the seventh-day masses were duly celebrated in the specialized temples —Variety, Collider, The Hollywood Reporter and the Choquei page—, behold, I finally felt ready. Now that it’s over, I can start watching the “Succession” series.
“Oh, so you don’t know the…” Shhhh, no spoilers. I’ve been running away from them for four seasons like someone dodging balls at dodgeball. I, who tried my best to finish “White Lotus” late. “Guys, what’s your problem?” In a single word? “Lost”.
Following a series is already something that requires not only interest, but above all “couch” —that mobile state of mind with idleness, popcorn, cell phone on silent and Shonda Rhimes. When there are two or more to see, it becomes unpaid work, full of obligations and overtime with Pedro Pascal.
(I don’t even complain about that part. It was really unacceptable for “The Crown” to cast a handsome Charles like a James Bond.)
“Lost” killed the naive viewer in me who was born watching “Armação Ilimitada” and “A Gata e o Rato”. Six years of anguish with hatches, smoke and monsters, but without the “Fantasy Island” Tattoo excitedly ringing the bell. One hundred and twenty-one episodes to discover, in the end, that the showrunners weren’t worth following—they got lost, too.
Bitter and exhausted, I found an antidote to the anxiety of “hyping” news delayed by at least four decades: I marathoned “The Mary Tyler Moore Show”, from 1970.
This true retroactive epiphany, which remains modern, feminist, funny. And with perfect outfits for themed parties, inspired by the hat she throws in the air in the credits and still doesn’t drop.
Here’s the tip: relax. Save series like ant stockpiling episodes of “Green Hornet” for the winter. Go from “Super Vicki”, “Dawson’s Creek” and “The Love Boat”. Put your headphones on the debates, emit flighty “hums” and let the hit of the moment die, knowing that before “Succession” there was “Dallas”, after Fantástico.
Chilling opening song and all.
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