From Wired Magazine’s June 2007 Playlist feature, because the bathroom at work will not be restocked with reading material until Nicco returns to DC in 2008 or the End of Days:
Deadwood fans in our office are still smarting over last year’s cancellation of their favorite show. But they won’t be able to resist writer David Milch’s follow-up series, John From Cincinnati, which debuts June 10 on HBO. It’s got mystic philosophizing, SoCal surfing, drug addiction, and a mysterious person (or is he an alien?) named John, who is most definitely not from Cincinnati. Plus, Rebecca De Mornay plays a smokin’ grandma! What’s not to like? Whereas Deadwood was lavish and profane (think Cormac McCarthy with Tourette’s Syndrome), JFC is spare and spiritual (think William James with surfboards). But it’s pure Milch, so expect another overnight cult hit with memorable taglines (“Meet the fuckin’ Jetsons!”) and fanboy pilgrimages to Imperial Beach, California, where the series is set.
Scrubbed from the first draft: a bunch of exclamation points and a bit about how our future society will be based upon John From Cincinnati and occasionally have to send George Carlin back through time to help David Milch score heroin/bibles.
Has anybody followed this long enough to kindly spoil the ending for me? I watched a few episodes and decided I wasn’t willing to sit through 59 minutes of boring stuff for the 1 minute of mysterious junk.
I saw the final episode, but I missed a few leading up to it. The final scene was certainly weird and memorable, but not in a good way. I don’t think there are any spoilers to share, really — nothing was concluded in a clear way. I love theorizing about HBO ambiguity as much as the next guy, but in this case the original text was so vague and overwrought I don’t really care to.