TV Retrospective: Fargo - Season 1

Left to right: Martin Freeman and Billy Bob Thornton

When Noah Hawley's adaptation of Fargo for TV premiered, there was a lot of hurdles that it immediately faced. There was the obvious parallels between Molly Solverson (Allison Tolman) and the film's Marge Gunderson. There was even a few ties to the bizarre opening involving a man in his underwear. It was an episode that had trouble proving itself as being something unique. But when Lorne Malvo (Billy Bob Thornton) walked into a hospital to meet Lester Nygaard (Martin Freeman) for the first time, the show did a handshake that shifted everything. Maybe the accents were still a little distracting, but from that point on, Fargo became its own beast, choosing to throw religious symbolism and cryptic episode titles into the mix to make for one profoundly weird show with an even more impressive ensemble cast.

One of the most impressive things is that the show managed to capture tone and atmosphere without too much plagiarism. The mixture of dark violence and aloof humor has been a penchant for the Joel and Ethan Coen model and for the most part has remained inimitable. Even if Hawley's invention is a very well constructed vehicle that produced masterful episodes such as "Buridan's Ass," it never quite excelled at making the Fargo brand into a franchise. It just felt like a coincidence that these two stories existed in the same state. Even then, the show wasn't keen on staying local, at points travelling to Las Vegas. 

This isn't to say that the results aren't something far more impressive. Many could debate on which version is better, but Fargo defied odds by taking on its own personality. Halfway through the series, Lester was no longer a nervous caricature and Lorne wasn't just this mysterious hit man. There may have been questions that still needed to be answered, but the show worked because of its ensemble that ranged from painful stereotypes (Bob Odenkirk as Gus Grimly) to well grounded revelations (Keith Carradine as Lou Solverson). It felt like a community and while the evolution at times felt arbitrary (including a flash forward), it was a universe of turmoil where things were uncertain and anything could happen.

If there is one issue, it is that the villains of the piece, Lorne and Lester, were varying degrees of interesting. As compelling and violent as Lorne could be, he began to feel like a stagnant character by simply not evolving past violent. While the ending to "Morton's Fork" was eventually satisfying, the idea of him getting brutally injured yet continuing to function rang as false. While Lester remained a nervous, aggressive jerk that evolved, I have issues with Lorne because it gave the show a stagnant feel in some ways by not allowing him to do more than kill people after a certain point. Yes, he did have a great scene involving Gus Grimly (Colin Hanks) trying to arrest him as a priest, but the keen creativity was disappearing as time went on.

If the show has one attribute that it thankfully borrowed from the film, it is excellent cinematography. Few shows this year have had as many scenic, wonderful shots that reflect the gorgeous terrain of North Dakota. With every episode opening with the iconic "Based on a True Story" riff, it allowed many scenes to open on scenery ranging from snow to corn fields. Even if the shots were momentary, they were gorgeous and when placed alongside the score by Jeff Russo that hearkened back to the film, it had the beautiful, cold atmosphere done perfectly.

By the end, the show's ultimate success was not in being more violent or artistic. It was in the subversion of expectations. At first, it was signifying itself away from the film. Then it came about which characters were the villains. By the end, the revelation that Gus and his reluctant ways saved the day made it into a well written mystery as to how to not have the obvious happen. Yes, there were some strange moments, like fish falling from the sky, but this Fargo defied expectations and became something rather exciting on a week-to-week basis. It wasn't just an adaptation, but an excuse to surprise audiences.

It inevitably lead to comparisons to the much superior True Detective and has caused some debate. It is an apples and oranges kind of kerfuffle. Even then, it also roots into a deeper question: is the series bound to return with a whole new story? One of the benefits of the new crop of the miniseries phenomenon is that it makes the individual series more enthralling knowing that things could be drastic if necessary. It has given life to TV and along with the new series The Leftovers, it is creating an interesting American bastardization of the British TV model. Limited run series allows for narrative to be more concrete. It also raises questions of where the series could go next if they were to shop something else together.

Even if Fargo never returns for a second season (unlikely, but I am fine with it), it has the benefit of making 10 really strong episodes that mixed beautiful cinematography with a strong ensemble cast, solid writing, and some of the best TV scores since David Porter's work on Breaking Bad. It may have had some uneven points and at points felt redundant, but Fargo became something special by the end, choosing to analyze the homespun murder story in a fresh new way. It took its characters and threw them into something mixing supernatural, spiritual, and psychological challenges that few shows are challenging themselves to do. By the end, the show wasn't about who did the crime, but how they were going to catch the culprit. Having achieved that, the journey leading to that moment was a satisfying, memorable journey that while not perfect, challenged TV to do something new and did that. Better yet, you're likely not going to get the two Fargos mixed up anytime soon.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5