True Blood
Look at any magazine rack, TV listing, book shelf or movie marquee nowadays and you'll find evidence of the world's ongoing fascination with vampires. But not all neck-biters are created equal. In fact, vampires come in as many flavors nowadays as can be found at a Baskin-Robbins ice cream shop—from the sparkling teen heartthrob to the old-school ("I'm going to drink your blood") tuxedo-wearer.
Laying claim to the over-spiced Cajun slot on the undead menu is HBO's True Blood. And you don't have to watch much to feel its burn. Even the opening title sequence—with its quick intermingled images of nude sexuality, blood-dripping violence and backwater religious fervor—makes it clear where the show intends to sink its dramatic teeth.
The action swoops in on the Louisiana town of Bon Temps, a small community filled with the uncanny, the unbathed and the inbred. And at the heart of it all is one Sookie Stackhouse, a drawling, telepathic waitress who reads her customers' minds as she serves their glasses of wine.
Fleshing out her world (on the human side) is her bartending best friend, Tara, whose cynical worldview is driving her ever closer to suicide; her dumb-but-attractive brother, Jason, who's progressively bedding every female in town; the gay short-order cook, Lafayette, who actually takes orders from nobody; and Sookie's shape-shifting boss, Sam, who has a desperate crush on his mind-reading waitress.
Then there's the vampire community.
Ever since a new synthetic blood concoction called Tru Blood hit the market, vampire residents of the bayou have stepped out of their coffins and into the mainstream of society. But they're not always met with a friendly smile. (Allegorical parallels to the gay-rights movement—such as an anti-vampire church sign that reads "God Hates Fangs"—are easy to spot.) Then again, not many of the vamp camp's blood-sipping actions are very smile worthy.
True Blood presents its dark vision of vampirism as a threatening and sexually aggressive underworld that draws humans like overexcited flies to an open pool of blood. And that's, very often, exactly where they end up—face down in their own gore.
Sookie is sucked into that deadly universe after meeting and somehow falling in love with a handsome Civil War veteran vampire named Bill. And in the face of growls from both humans and vampires, the two strive to maintain their relationship.
If this is starting to sound like Twilight pumped up on a mixture of steroids and Viagra, that's pretty close. The series promises supernatural adventure and romance, but ends up being a soulless blend of grisly violence and raw sexuality that is bleeding viewers dry.
Episode Reviews
"It Hurts Me Too"
Bill is kidnapped by a gang of werewolves and brought before the vampire king of Mississippi who offers him a deal: If Bill will serve the king, then riches and authority will be his. Also, Sookie won't become vampire chow.
Meanwhile, Sookie is trying to find her mysteriously vanished dead lover and goes to a werewolf bar to mind-read for clues.
Meanwhile, Tara is off having torrid sex with a vampire named Franklin who is slowly manipulating control over her life.
Meanwhile, shape-shifter Sam has tracked down his real family—his brother and mom being shape-shifters, too—to find out why they abandoned him as an infant.
Meanwhile, Bill is sharing angry moments with Lorena, the vampire who originally turned him and drove him away from his wife. Lorena wants to sink her claws back into Bill. But she pushes too hard and Bill pushes back in an episode-collapsing rape scene. It ends with him twisting Lorena's head 180 degrees, leaving her spitting blood as she smiles through it all.
Other foul moments include a gory ripped-out throat, a headless corpse, dead pox-ridden children, graphic lesbian oral sex and rampant profanity as a torrent of f- and s-words fall headlong into the abyss.