‘Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeit.’ You could imagine hearing The Wire’s crooked politician Clay Davis uttering his famous catchphrase after watching the fourth season of one of American TV’s most persistent underdogs, Friday Night Lights. Not, I should stress, as a shorthand critique for the quality of the show – it feels fresh and invigorated in a way not seen since the show started out – but as a reflection on the downbeat and often depressing subject matter being tackled. Yes, this was the year that Dillon channeled the spirit of Baltimore as the show explored the seedy and heretofore unspoken of deprived neighbourhood of the Texas town’s East side. (Comparisons with The Wire’s first season don’t end there as it was also reflected in the casting of lil’ Wallace, now all grown up and intense, as the show’s intriguing new character Vince, and even a guest spot by d’Angelo Barksdale as, wait for it, a reformed gangster!)
Making any more similarities between the two shows would not be recommended though. Although Friday Night Lights couldn’t hope to achieve the (yes, I’m sorry to use this phrase again) gritty realism of The Wire’s reflections on a modern American society, the show again excelled in showing the earnestness and delicacy of everyday people facing ‘everyday’ problems, be it drug addiction, abortion or gang crime – there may be cause for concern that the writers were repeating the mistakes made in Season 2 by tackling overly-sensationalist storylines, but the difference here is that the introduction of poverty-stricken East Dillon provided a convincing backdrop for these stories, rather than the out-of-place shocks that Landry and Tyra went through back in the day.
Last time we left Dillon, not only had many old favourites finally graduated from high school, but said school was all set to be redistricted, with many students facing the prospect of moving over to the rundown East Dillon High, as well as a previously-adored Coach Taylor who had gotten on the wrong side of the Panthers’ most influential booster Joe McCoy. Eric has to start from scratch in recruiting a new football team in a place that doesn’t care so much about football. The show seemed mostly genuine in its portrayal of the East Dillon Lions’ poor fortunes in the football season – unlike every previous season, it was clear from the outset that Coach Taylor would certainly not be going all the way to State this year. As a result even the smallest successes, such as scoring a single touchdown, became huge triumphs. If I have one complaint about this season however, it’s of the strangeness of our previously favourite football team the (West) Dillon Panthers being suddenly transformed into smug faceless villains, particularly in the case of star quarterback JD McCoy who, after such an involving exploration of his unfortunate daddy issues last season, is completely squandered here. I was hoping to get an episode later in the season to give his character some resolution, but it never came. Maybe next year.
As viewers of this show know however, it’s not all about football – in many episodes, it feels like an afterthought, thankfully. The show also had to deal with the loss of three more of the original cast – Lyla and Tyra had little and no screentime respectively this year, whilst Matt Saracen was given a six-episode sendoff similar to Smash and Jason’s farewells last year, although not quite as satisfactorily done. His storyline was a bit too meandering and pointless to start with, but then a personal tragedy in the fifth episode led to one of the most tear-inducing single episodes of drama since Buffy’s seminal episode ‘The Body’, which dealt with a similar theme of loss but under completely different circumstances – here, poorly-concealed anger and resentment in Matt, the boy who had always strived above everything else to be a ‘good person’, were companions to the conventional notions of grief, and actor Zach Gilford should be given extreme praise (and thus will certainly NOT be given Emmy attention this year) for the absolutely stunning performance here. However, the following episode gave Matt a rather ambiguous departure from Dillon – emotionally satisfying at the time perhaps, but on reflection rather out-of-character and leaving a bad taste in my mouth.
In my opinion, Dillon’s resident heartbreaker Tim Riggins, a character I must admit had never been one of my favourites, was much better treated than Matt by the writers this year. No longer the football star of old, and deciding that college wasn’t for him, Tim’s struggle to find maturity and a direction in life was done very well – you feel that in any previous season, he wouldn’t have hesitated to have his way with Becky, the younger schoolgirl with a serious crush on him, but his responsible and almost-parental relationship with her was a delight to see. The conclusion to the season and behind-the-scenes news suggests he won’t be seen very much next year. I can genuinely say he’ll be missed.
And as for the Taylors? Well, let me be a broken record in saying again that Kyle Chandler and Connie Britton continue to give television’s most authentic portrayal of a long-term married couple I’ve ever seen – this year was a particularly difficult one for them, as their often severe professional problems bled into tension and sheer exasperation inside their own home. But if they can stay standing together after such ordeals, it gives hopes for us regular schmucks, for sure.
Finally, the show’s reboot this year led to the mostly fantastic introduction of four compelling new characters. Vince’s struggles with a drug-addled mother and criminal peer pressure gave the audience huge sympathy for the character – Michael B Jordan’s often quiet and brooding performance gave us a refreshing new character not really seen before. His love triangle with Landry and new character Jess (Jurnee Smollet) was rather well done in the end, although I wish overall that Jess had been given more to do this year, as she was a pleasing presence on the show. Luke was given a strong introduction as the West Dillon football player with a promising future shattered by a forced move to the East side, but I felt his presence was also a bit wasted towards the end (and a bit too similar to a first-season storyline involving Smash). Surprisingly, my favourite new character wasn’t even given star billing this year, despite having as much screentime as the others. Perhaps not everyone would be that fond of Becky’s constant pining for Tim, but it must be agreed that her heartfelt moral deliberation with Tami towards the end of the season was one of the highlights.
It’s been announced that next year will be Friday Night Lights’ last, and I’m quite glad about it – even though it’s still firing on all cylinders, that’s exactly how I want it to go out and there’s already been a bit of a danger that the writers are retreading old ground. Having said that, if they can pull out all the stops for one last season, this will have been one of the greatest TV shows of recent years, and worthy of anyone’s DVD collection. Clear eyes, full hearts…
