Why I rejected the show that I used to love and be obsessed with for years - a creator's perspective
I used to be in love with The Walking Dead. Deep, deep love that quickly evolved into a borderline obsession. Don't worry, it was healthy - I didn't lose contact with reality, didn't become delusional, didn't contact creators demanding they should do this or that, because I am a fan. No. I just really loved this series. I invested my whole heart, time and energy into watching it over and over and over, analyzing the characters and their arcs, the plot, the storytelling, making moodboards, listening to the soundtrack. Quietly, for myself. This series gave me life. It meant the world to me.
Until it betrayed me in the cruelest, worst way possible.
I'm sure everybody who ever watched it knows exactly what moment it was. Yes, it was THAT moment. THAT character. THAT episode. It traumatized me so much that it took me years to get over it, and sometimes it still feels like the wound that will never really close.
Everyone who knows me either personally or from my posts and writings here, knows also that while I usually put a lot of emotional engagement into everything that I watch, I have also a deeply analytical mind and I love to dissect different ways creators of the show decide to build a story and show it to the world. What kind of choices they make, what message they are trying to convey, how their choices influence the real world. Because it's never "just entertainment", even in its most shallow form. Every movie, every book, every TV show tells us something about us, their creators and the world. It starts with deciding what kind of audience they want to appeal to and ends with how what they created influenced that audience in very real and very plausible ways.
First two seasons were created by Frank Darabont, one of the most consistent and talented writers and directors in Hollywood. His adaptations of The Shawshank Redemption and The Green Mile are enough proof of his values, ethics and the quality of his work. So when he decided to do a zombie story, it was a clear signal to the audience - this is going to be serious. It won't be just about zombies eating people. The core of the story will be people - their moral dilemmas, their choices made under extreme conditions, the cost of survival in the world that brutal and dark. And I was delighted. This was exactly the kind of story that I loved. And it was entertaining as well. It brought amazing, well-developed characters, great worldbuilding, great plot. So I fell in love with it instantly.
With the departure of Frank Darabont, after two seasons the quality of the series started declining. First slowly, then more and more visibly. I still watched. Still loved. It was with introducing of Negan and what came with it when I said enough. The cold-blooded murdering two characters that were the quiet heart of the show, and doing it in the worst possible way.
I want to say it very clearly - it was not about the level of violence and brutality. Come on. I watched six seasons of blood and gore without flinching. I am a fan of splatter and horror movies. One of my favorite series is Saw. One of my favorite characters of all time is Hannibal Lecter. I can handle violence just fine. What I can't handle is the glamorization of moral emptiness, especially when it follows the destruction of characters who embodied hard-earned dignity.
Abraham and Glenn's deaths were not just brutal and violent. They were meaning-annihilating. The story didn't say "it's tragic". It said, implicitly, that nothing you build inside yourself actually protects you. When a story kills characters like Abraham and Glenn in that way, it doesn’t just remove them. It invalidates the internal labor they represent.
Negan as a character is truly intolerable to me, not because of taste, prudishness, or inability to handle the violence. It's moral recoil. He is not terrifying because he is complex (he is not; he is one of the worst-written and most cartoonish villains I have ever seen onscreen). He is insufferable because he is performative. He is someone who externalizes cruelty, aestheticizes dominance, and turns violence into spectacle. And the story rewards him for it. And this is the real betrayal.
The series demands from me as and audience to lean in, to contextualize him, to forgive. This is the where I draw the line. Not because of the violence.
Any feeble attempts from the creators to "humanize" him later are fake and dishonest to me. Not because I'm allergic to nuance. There is no nuance with this particular character. The story demands empathy without accountability from me. Understanding non-existent complexity without any real cost. Redemption when there was a vast disproportion.
The real wound was not their deaths. The real wound was that the show violated its own moral contract with me as an audience. The creators implicitly said: "These men's quiet integrity is expendable. But this man's theatrical cruelty deserves endless attention."
For someone wired like me, this is not only unacceptable, but truly unbearable. My whole body of work as a writer is build around opposite beliefs: that restrain matters, that pain deserves care, that dignity is not boring. So yes, it was torture, and yes, it took years to recover. Because I wasn't just hurt as a viewer. It hurt me as an author watching the line being crossed.
Anyone who says things like "It's a zombie apocalypse story, what did you expect?" or "It's a dark world, deal with it" is missing the point entirely. The world of the story being dark is not an argument. It's an abdication of authorial responsibility. There is a vast difference between depicting a dark world and endorsing a worldview about humanity.
I am not obligated to accept Robert Kirkman’s view of humanity any more than I am obligated to accept Hobbes, Nietzsche, or any other bleak metaphysics just because they’re confidently asserted. A worldview being loud does not make it true. What I'm objecting to is not darkness—it’s contempt for the audience’s moral intelligence. When a story rewards theatrical cruelty, domination and spectacle while punishing restraint, dignity and moral steadiness, it's not just "a dark world". it's a belief system being rehearsed.
I’m not obligated to accept a story’s worldview just because it’s set in a dark genre. Darkness doesn’t cancel authorial responsibility. And I choose stories that don’t confuse cruelty with depth.