Considering the discourse I’d read about True Blood before watching it, which ranged from lukewarm to outraged by the show’s trajectory, I was so pleasantly surprised. And I’m starting to think some people just don’t enjoy stories that unfold over years. I read so many complaints that True Blood “ran out of compelling stories” by the final season and got “too preposterous” because “things just kept happening”.
Folks, things have to keep happening in order for a story to continue. Action is the backbone of narrative. Of course, there are effective and ineffective ways to do this, and many initially strong shows do suffer from repetition or lack of direction after tacking on last-minute plot devices to a completed story in order to milk more seasons out of them. True Blood is not one of those shows. But it seems to be perceived as one for reasons I don’t really understand. In fact, watching it felt like a master class in how not to do that- I’m blown away by the cohesiveness and forethought put into this show from start to finish.
Reflecting on it after watching the series finale, that is what stands out to me more than any one episode, scene, or character- and I consider that a good thing. It’s more than a set of individual moments that all have their own merit; seasons 1-7 are one entity, it stands collectively as a unit. Not only are plot lines thorough and foreshadowed well, but they are informed by and consistent with the rich characters of Bon Temps, Louisiana.
I’ll start from the beginning: the pilot alone sows seeds that aren’t harvested until years later. The circumstances in which Sookie meets Bill in the very first episode are both mysterious and highly specific. She’s drawn to him because of her telepathic abilities that have been a fact of her life from birth- she can’t hear his thoughts and that’s incredibly refreshing. She then rescues Bill from a hate crime attack, hurling a chain around an assailant’s neck with superhuman strength and precision. She herself is clearly surprised by this, but nothing is said about it for a very long time. The episode ends with a target now on Sookie’s back when she is attacked by the same couple seeking retribution. This time she’s rescued by Bill, who nurses her back to health with his blood.
By the time the details of these events become relevant, I had forgotten about them- this is good storytelling. Revelations should be hard-hitting because, as an audience member, you didn’t connect these dots yourself, but you could have. You had all the information and now that it’s out in the open you realize it’s been staring you in the face all this time.
Towards the end of season three, Sookie finally learns that she is part fairy. This is why she is a telepath, why vampires have made it impossible for her to lead a normal life, and why she had surprising success in a life-threatening brawl in the pilot. Sookie embodies many qualities of the damsel in distress trope, but there is a reason for it all, and this allows her to seize control and turn the trope on its head. She doesn’t just happen to be beloved by several suitors for no apparent reason; she isn’t just ‘different’ than everyone else for some quality no one can put into words.
Sookie’s fairy identity is at the very heart of the series in so many layered ways. Revealing this so late in the game in a show that has already broached shapeshifters and werewolves in addition to vampires could have had the disheartening effect of feeling like an afterthought (now there are fairies?! Come on) had it not been clearly intentioned from the start- and had the show itself not quickly acknowledged and dispensed of the potential fantasy fatigue (“I’m a fairy?! Well, isn’t that fucking lame.”). Not only has Sookie’s telepathy been well-established and normalized from the start, but it’s had a well-explored impact on who she is as a person. After a life of fatigue from hearing a bigoted town’s every thought, from running from every potential relationship after hearing men’s frightening intentions, it’s no wonder she’s so compelled by a seemingly open-minded vampire whose thoughts she can’t hear at all.
In addition to all of this, it turns out that Sookie’s fae blood has catalyzed everything we’ve seen so far without her even knowing it. A couple episodes after Sookie learns who she is, Eric drops the bombshell that Bill has known all along; in fact, Sookie drinking his blood after the brawl in the pilot was a pre-meditated move on his part to manipulate her into falling in love with him. This kind of attention to detail isn’t cooked up in retrospect, and the ramifications carry us through the rest of the series.
The way fairies are handled in True Blood is unique, and despite its central importance to Sookie’s journey and the emotional heart of the story, it fits right in among the other happenings of Bon Temps. The revelation of Sookie’s identity struck me as a very delicate thing for the show to navigate- it certainly could have been a low, but I think it’s actually one of the series’ high points.
While there has always been cause to wonder why Sookie is a telepath and why vampires seem particularly interested in her, the fairy community is foreshadowed in earnest several episodes in advance when Sookie meets another telepath. At the time, she is thrilled because she has never met anyone with her ability before and wants to connect with this stranger. As a standalone moment, it serves to make Sookie feel less alone and othered, and the juxtaposition of this new, fearful telepath highlights Sookie’s strength and sense of self. In the bigger picture, it opens up the reality that there are others like Sookie and raises the questions who are they? Where are they? How many are there?
Consistently, happenings that were not out of place at the time- and in fact, had significant implications as a standalone incident- end up having long-lasting ramifications that allow a new chapter of the story to begin seamlessly.
Like Sookie herself, the fae are traditional in a lot of ways. They are deeply desirable woodland beings that lure people in with their irresistible beauty. Sookie even has a fairy godfather. Once again, the ‘classic’-ness of these qualities is exactly what allows them to be played with in a fun and different way. Sookie breaks the ice of the introduction of yet another supernatural being with her underwhelmed reaction upon learning her identity. It’s an endearing self-awareness of both her character and the show that allows us to accept this level of fantasy. The show is very silly; the characters are very down to earth.
In the season three finale, Sookie visits the fairy plane, a very classic fairy tale setting that seems like a wonderland, with the caveat of a mysterious and delicious fruit being forced on her. Sookie, never the fool, doesn’t eat it, and without its magic the beauty of the fae plane quickly falls apart. Within minutes, Sookie sees through the illusions, learns that the fairies are attempting to lure and trap their entire bloodline in their plane, and promptly breaks free of it. She also meets her grandfather, who has been missing all her life. Her grandfather is devastated to learn that he’s been gone for years- he could swear it’s only been a few hours. The absence of any familial figures in Sookie and Jason’s life has informed so much of who they are, and once again, there is a relevant explanation for their circumstances.
Her grandfather dies moments after bringing Sookie back to the human plane- eating the fruit makes it impossible to return. Despite having not eaten any herself, Sookie learns that the 15 minutes we spent with her there has translated to a year in Bon Temps. This time jump is maybe the most masterful piece of storytelling in the whole show.
One of my favorite things about True Blood is the sheer size of its ensemble. There is so much going on in Bon Temps, all of it intertwined. Characters and events weave in and out of each other with precise, seamless timing. While Sookie, Bill, and Eric explored vampire royalty and the existence of fairies throughout season three, the entire Bon Temps clan was being carefully set up to be in incredibly compelling positions after the one-year time jump revealed in the season finale.
Arlene, finally at peace with the loving Terry, discovers she’s pregnant with the late Rene’s baby and is convinced the child will be evil. Sheriff Andy has the first inklings of experimenting with V. Jason’s lustful ways have abruptly left him with the obligation to care for a backwoods, impoverished community of were-panthers. Nice guy Sam has finally snapped and shot his own brother. Tara has reached her limit and left Bon Temps in an attempt to escape her trauma along with it.
As soon as Sookie returns from the fae plane and learns how much time has passed, it struck me how deliberately every one of these plotlines have been threaded- they had all been building organically throughout the season, but they left off in a place where they will be at their most compelling one year later. Time jumps can feel abrupt and disorienting when we’re invested in the current timeline, but this timeline was crafted with the time jump in mind. One meaningful look at an evidence vial of vampire blood, and we’re ready to explore Sherriff Andy’s full-blown addiction. Now that we know Arlene is pregnant with a serial killer’s baby, we can get right to the real plot point- how she and Terry fare once he’s born. It’s all an immense trust in the audience to pay attention to detail and connect the dots on their own- and it pays off.
These long-game moves continue throughout the series: the cowboy boots gifted to Sheriff Bud at his retirement party turn out to be the fateful clue that exposes him as the center of a violent hate group; Sarah Newlin’s frantic downing of some mysterious vial during the prison revolt is only later revealed to be the cure to the fatal hep-V virus; Mrs. Fortenberry’s very in-character death proves to be a vehicle for Hoyt’s return and reunion with Jessica.
All this to say, True Blood is the most intentional show I’ve seen in a very long time. Its eventual conclusion is true to its characters and core message. At no point did I feel it had lost or gotten away from itself, and it’s all due to its foreshadowing of upcoming storylines well, well in advance in ways that are so relevant to the ‘now’ that they are remembered but not questioned.
I’ll close by briefly joining the conversation that piqued my interest in the series in the first place: I don’t at all consider True Blood’s vampires to be a queer allegory. Alan Ball, a gay man himself, has said this view is harmful and (not that it matters what I think in relation to him), I agree. Don’t get me wrong, True Blood has a rich and decisive political message, but it doesn’t hide behind its fantasy elements to express it. The blue collar, rural Louisiana setting is not a superficial choice, and everything the show has to say about race, religion, and sexuality, it says outright. The juxtaposition of high fantasy with hyper-realistic characters, setting, and dialogue is part of the show’s allure, and a big part of that is not shying away from southern culture and the political beliefs that come with it. If you really want to get to the meat of the show, we should talk about Sookie’s relationship with Christianity and pretty much everything about season 7. And I would love to! This show has been such a refreshing watch for me and I’m not ready to put it behind me, so hit me up if you have thoughts and opinions!
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