TV Review: The Leftovers

The perfect show to watch in 2020: ‘The Leftovers’ on HBO

As the world collectively shut down shop and retreated to the seclusion of their homes in 2020, one of the few sources of respite from the horror show taking place just outside our doors has been TV. Thanks to the seemingly endless supply of streaming services over the past few years, we’ve got no shortage of shows right at our fingertips, spanning all kinds of genres and all kinds of audiences. Ideally, the “perfect show” to dive into in this downer of a year would be a light, escapist comedy, and I totally understand that line of thinking. Shows like ‘The Office’ and ‘Parks and Recreation’ offer the kind of comforting hilarity necessary to distract from the (temporary) apocalypse just outside, to get wrapped up in like a warm blanket. (I’ll also take this opportunity to shout out ‘Ted Lasso’ on Apple TV+, the best new comedy of the year). But there’s another road you could take, and that’s to directly stare down the pain and confront it head-on. ‘The Leftovers’, streaming in its entirety on HBO Max, has three seasons of just this waiting right at your disposal, and I can’t recommend it enough.

The gist of the show goes like this: on October 14th, 2011, two percent of the world’s population (so about 150 million people at that time) suddenly vanished into thin air, with no explanation as to why. The very first scene of the series gives us a glimpse into this day, a grim opening that sets the tone for what lies ahead. Three years later, suburban town Mapleton, just on the outskirts of New York City, is gearing up for the anniversary of what’s referred to in the show as the Departure, a gathering that brings together our main characters. There’s the chief of police Kevin Garvey (Justin Theroux), who didn’t lose any family in the Departure, but it might as well be so; his wife, Laurie (Amy Brenneman), has abandoned him; his son, Tom (Chris Zylka), is traversing across the country; and his daughter Jill (Margaret Qualley) still lives with him, but is in a practically different world otherwise. There’s Nora Durst (Carrie Coon, in one of TV’s all-time great performances), who lost her entire family in the Departure, and has become somewhat locally famous as a result. There’s Episcopal preacher Matt Jamison (Christopher Eccleston), who spends his time trying to convince the townspeople that not everyone who departed was necessarily a hero, and not to much avail. There’s more, too, but I don’t feel a need to go into everyone. And lurking in the background is a cult called the Guilty Remnant, who dress in all white, don’t speak at all (they write on notepads instead), stand silently outside random homes, and chain-smoke so profusely it’s a wonder no one comes down with lung cancer. There’s an explanation to the Remnant’s strangeness, but I won’t give it away here.

Like a lot of great shows, ‘The Leftovers’ has some false starts. The first two episodes are pretty dull, to be frank, and don’t even begin to hint at the heights the show goes on to reach. Adapting from Tom Perotta’s novel of the same name, creator Damon Lindelof is tasked with doing the heavy lifting of introducing these characters, and, in these initial episodes, doesn’t present us with much of a reason to actually care about these people as they wallow in their melancholy (I’m pretty sure the first time a character smiles comes over halfway into the first season). However, the third episode changes this, a largely self-contained episode told from a single character’s POV (a format the show goes on to utilize many more times, always to great success), and also the first sign that ‘The Leftovers’ is capable of more than what it initially suggests. From that point on, the show is mostly off and running, save for a couple more minor rough patches in the first season.

But it’s not until the second season that ‘The Leftovers’ really becomes something special. In an interview​ on ‘The Watch’ podcast, Lindelof explains that from his experience at funerals, in addition to the mourning, people also laugh; they celebrate that person’s life as much as they grieve the loss. As such, in its sophomore year, ‘The Leftovers’ loosens up a bit on the first season’s bleak tone and begins to let in the light; it becomes weirder, funnier, and much more sure of itself. The first season covered all the ground of Perrotta’s novel, and so Lindelof and company were tasked with creating entirely new material. As it turned out, this was the best thing that could have happened to the show. Much of the story moves to a small town in Texas called Jarden, the only place in the world where not a single person departed on October 14th. In addition to the first season’s core characters, there’s a couple new additions to the cast, including a powerhouse performance from Oscar winner Regina King (who would later go on to work with Lindelof again in HBO’s ‘Watchmen’, one of the best shows of the last 5 years). This transition from a good show to an all-timer continues into the third and final season, where, by this point, the writers are just throwing everything at the wall—and miraculously, it all sticks. Each turn of events comes completely out of nowhere; wherever you think the show will zig, it zags. There are moments so daring, so bizarre, and so brilliant that it’s completely unlike any TV show I’ve watched. Like our current reality, it’s impossible to predict what’ll happen next. And the ending is the most perfect conclusion this story could possibly have. It’s great.

Now, ‘The Leftovers’ would be a phenomenal show no matter what situation we’re living in. Its initial run from 2014 to 2017 gained heaps of critical acclaim, and routinely showed up near the top of best-of-the-decade lists (although somehow, it only got one Emmy nomination, and for a guest actress nonetheless; between this and ‘The Wire’ getting snubbed, award shows should be taken with a grain of salt). But the show takes on another layer of depth watched through the lens of 2020, as there are a number of surprising parallels to our current situation. Tons of people have disappeared from our lives this year, although unlike the people in ‘The Leftovers’, we know the reason why. But ‘The Leftovers’ is never concerned with answering ​why so many people vanished. Rather, it’s about how we cope with grief and loss, and how we try to return to something resembling normalcy, something we can latch onto to feel satisfied, even if we know it’s not true. Everyone deals with tragedy differently, and this show conveys that better than any other I’ve seen. It’s impossible to rationalize the irrational, but why not try anyway? (There’s also a lot of erratic people spreading conspiracy theories throughout the run, another real-life parallel). The 2020 pandemic has shaken up our lives like very few events in our lifetime have, and it’s brought immense damage and fracture to our world. But eventually, we’re gonna have to move on and return to normal the best way we see fit, even if things aren’t quite the same. ‘The Leftovers’ is about exactly that. Maybe I’m wrong, but I think that’s as good a message as any to take away this year.