In the department of “Things No One Else Probably Cares About” I’m still watching Tell Me You Love Me. The initial reaction by most people is, “Uh… why?” To which I typically respond, “Yeah… it’s kind of hard to say.” The thing is, I’m swamped right now with shows that I keep watching despite being less than thrilled with, but week after week I come back to Tell Me You Love Me for reasons that aren’t entirely clear. More after the jump…
I had a feeling it was going to be this type of series. I hadn’t got around to seeing last week’s episode until earlier Sunday afternoon, and thanks to HBO On-Demand posting each new episode a week early was able to hammer through both that and the new one in a single sitting. I expect this pattern to continue throughout the show’s run. It is such a low-key narrative it’s hard to get excited about week in and week out, but if you let a few episodes build up, once you start watching it’s pretty easy to forget about the time and just let the characters wash over you. More after the jump…
Between the VMAs, the new season of Curb, this and James Gandolfini’s documentary on wounded soldiers, last night was one of the oddest nights of television I can remember. When I started up Tell Me You Love Me, HBO’s new Sunday night drama about couples trying to stay together you know you’re in for something special: HBO followed it’s usual GS, N, L, and AC warnings with a full-screen graphic that declared “Viewer discretion is strongly advised.” Hrmm… I clearly wasn’t going to be seeing your average relationship drama. And I didn’t. Sex aside, Tell Me You Love Me is an incredibly honest and sophisticated portraits of communication or the lack thereof. I found it completely engrossing. More after the break…
