Jessica and I have been watching the new AMC series, The Walking Dead (Sundays at 10pm PT). Thus far, we’ve thoroughly enjoyed it. Unlike some other zombie, or apocalyptic, or survival stories, The Walking Dead takes its time. And by that I mean Frank Darabont (director of The Green Mile and The Shawshank Redemption) and Robert Kirkman (the writer of the graphic novel series; we’ve met him!) don’t have the need to reveal anything too quickly.
The beauty of this series (and, by proxy, the graphic novels) is for precisely that reason. We, the viewer, are thrown into this world of madness- this world of fantasy- wherein the only respite is found with the characters and their developing relationships.
We see that, despite the frenetic nature of this world, the development of its characters doesn’t need to follow suit. They are surviving, surely, but they are mostly living. Living to keep from going insane, living to survive fruitfully, living to develop relationships.
It is within these relationships we, the viewer, find our respite. The story slows, and we have a our moment of relating just before we take the axe to the zombie’s skull.