SPOILER ALERT FOR THE SPOILINGS AND SPOILS

John from Cincinnati ended much like it began: mesmerizing, compelling, mildly profound, affected, impenetrable, and purposefully obscure. For reasons I find difficult to describe, I have to admit I enjoyed the show. It really got under my skin. And yet, I have a very difficult time defending it against its army of detractors.

Anyway, it is (was?) maybe the strangest TV show ever — yeah, I’d say more than Twin Peaks, anything by the brilliant Dennis Potter, and anything by Sid and Marty Kroft — and I have to respect it for that fact alone. I was even ok with, although not blown away by, the finale, which seemed to be (finally…) putting some pieces in place and nicely pushing everything forward. Towards what, I doubt we’ll ever know. Such is life.

Here’s a negative review of the finale by an understandably frustrated critic:

Maybe David Milch is John. The season finale, and presumably the series finale, of John From Cincinnati was so disappointing that, seeking whatever secret redemption it might contain, I wondered if Milch had rendered his surfing prophet so banal as a warning against trust in prophets, perhaps including in that class himself, a TV writer (Deadwood, NYPD Blue, Hill Street Blues) whose many acolytes scrutinize his texts for shards of meaning and no doubt force themselves to find wisdom in the text that was broadcast last night.

It did not salvage the series, as I had hoped it might.

As for clues to what exactly the deal was with John from Cincinnati, TV Blogger posted some surprisingly revealing quotes from Milch himself about the show from an interview with Tavis Smiley.

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