John Ferensen
Banshee
The best show you’ve kinda, maybe, sorta heard about that you’re not watching rests in the abyss of deep premium cable. Specifically, Cinemax, the boob-riddled stepchild of parent company HBO. That’s where you’ll find Banshee, the most morally bankrupt small town in America. It also happens to be the name of the show, because the town – including the neighboring Amish enclave and Native American tribe – is as much a character as any of the twisted humans who inhabit the place.
Naturally, you’re probably wondering what Banshee is about, why it’s relegated to Cinemax, and why it receives little to no promotion outside Comic-Con. First off, there aren’t exactly any big names involved. Second, there’s boobs. Lots and lots of gratuitous boobs. And violence. But not just ordinary violence. Ultra-violence! As in, over the two seasons it’s been on the air (it debuted in January 2013), I’ve experienced no less than a dozen “holy shit!” moments just because I can’t believe what I’m seeing on screen. And, while much of the violence turns into a theater of the absurd, it’s not dumbed down (or toned down) at all. Every fight (well, almost every fight) has a purpose, even if you don’t know it at the time.
If I’ve piqued your interest enough that you want to take the plunge, my next piece of advice is this: suspend all disbelief. Like, five minutes ago. Why? Here’s how it starts: a Man With No Name rolls into town (Banshee), walks into a bar run by the guy who played Ervin Burrell (Frankie Faison) in The Wire, and assumes the identity of the recently appointed sheriff (Lucas Hood) through a sequence of events that will leave you either A) laughing and reaching for the remote, or B) settling in for the long haul because yes, that just happened, and there’s no way this will end well.
I’ll admit that Banshee requires a lot of stick-to-it-iveness. It’s an absurd premise, and the first season can be a bit of a slog with the backstory. But it’s all worth it for the heart-pounding second season when characters begin to draw lines in the sand. And word on the street is that the third season (likely premiering in January 2015) dials everything up a notch, which, believe me, doesn’t seem possible.
One other thing worth mentioning: both seasons clock in at a brisk ten episodes, making for a slightly less time consuming binge watch.
