I've been watching a lot of the BBC series Broadchurch lately. I recently started Season 2. This isn't really a review of that series, just commentary that I find the series that riveting. I'm always looking forward to the next episode as it reveals its plot(s) and characters layer by layer. It also has made me look at things differently. While it is basically a procedural drama, there's more to it than that, and I can't quite put my finger on it. But it helps me to see and realize the secrets people keep, how people can hide who they truly are, both the good and atrocious.
I tend to see people ... maybe how I want to see them. And the truth hurts miserably when the true picture becomes clear, but it has to be faced, eventually. It really makes me question how I get things so wrong sometimes. Why am I so blind to what is truly going on? Why is it that I'm usually the last to know pretty much anything?
In Broadchurch, the characters find themselves facing very ugly truths about their lives, their families, and even themselves. Even more difficult is the journey to a place of some form of normalcy, or at least a way to deal with the horrors and revelations at hand. And sometimes there's the issue of realizing ... there is no going back to what was.
One of the characters is asked, and asks herself, why didn't you know? But again, that's the question, isn't it? How could you know something is wrong when you trust someone? But if you truly loved and trusted someone, how could you not know what they are capable of?
It's hard to talk about the series without giving away much, so my apologies for the vagueness. I think we find a bit of ourselves and/or our lives in our favorite television series and movies, and for me, Broadchurch is no different. We don't want to believe the worst about the people we care about, but sometimes those are simply things we must face. The hurt thereafter can be unbearable, but survivable.
It's just a shame that the truth has to be so blasted ugly.
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