Why “Ozark” Is No Longer Doing it for Me
Like millions of others, I craved the long-awaited return of Ozark, the Netflix crime drama starring Jason Bateman and Laura Linney as parents, Marty and Wendy Byrde, who start a new life of money laundering in the Ozarks of Missouri, getting themselves involved in drug cartels, local crime families, and a casino along the way.
Season 3 (the best so far) brought in a compelling story about Wendy’s brother Ben (Tom Pelphrey) showing up. Ben was one of the few moral voices in the entire series, and he also had a history of bipolar disorder. He fell in love with Ruth (Julia Garner), the foul-mouthed but somewhat likable matriarch-of-sorts of the local Langmore crime family. What ultimately happened to Ben created a huge moral conflict for all involved, and brought out an Emmy-worthy performance from Linney. (But, by the way, why was there not even a nomination for the great Pelphrey, who navigated this complex terrain so well?)
Season 3 also ended with another shocker when the Byrdes flew to Mexico with lawyer Helen Pierce (Janet McTeer) to finally meet the head of the Navarro cartel in person.
It’s been nearly two long years (Season 3 was released in late March of 2020, soon after the pandemic hit us) and fans have been eager to jump back in to see how things have turned out for the Byrdes.
And so here we are, at last.
After streaming four episodes (the final season will consist of two seven-episode parts), my reaction is “Meh.”
Here’s the thing. When Ozark was originally streaming, we lived in a different time. We had a different president, one who flouted all the rules of law without consequence, and it seemed that everyone around him was corrupt in one way or another. Ozark Season 3 came while he was still president, but before the dramatic 2020 election and before the events of January 6, 2021.
We still have great divisions in this country — possibly deeper than the divisions a year ago — but having sat with this real-life drama for four years and then the election and then January 6th, watching wide-scale cruelty and corruption in a television show no longer entertains me.
On Ozark, everyone is corruptible. Not only the folks in business and politics, but FBI agents, charitable organizations, even children. The Byrdes were never likable from the beginning, but good performances and clever writing pulled us through. Like the Trumps, the Byrdes never laughed, never showed any compassion unless it was a ruse to get something for themselves. Bateman’s low-key Marty is reptilian, emotionless; Linney’s Wendy is the Devil incarnate.
There is not one sympathetic character on the show. Ruth’s cousin Wyatt seems a nice enough kid, in way over his head, but having an affair with Darlene (Lisa Emery), a woman who can shoot someone in cold blood without a second thought.
When you find yourself rooting for Ruth and Darlene, you really have to check yourself for a heartbeat.
This is not the case with other shows in this genre that I have loved. The gold standard is Breaking Bad. The genius of that show is that the hero, or anti-hero, is Walter White (Bryan Cranston), who truly starts off as a loving husband and a school teacher before his descent. He is joined by Jesse Pinkman (Aaron Paul) as his partner in crime. But until the end, Jesse is nuanced and conflicted about his involvement. Walter’s wife Skyler (Anna Gunn), compromises herself somewhat when she finds out what’s going on, but she never goes fully to the dark side. And their son and Skyler’s sister are deeply sympathetic characters. Mike Ehrmantraut (Jonathan Banks) is a character you can root for also.
The sequel to Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, is saved by the humor of its main character, Jimmy/Saul, plus Mike is back in a key role. There is also a deeply satisfying relationship that is explored between Jimmy and his brother, and Jimmy’s girlfriend, Kim Wexler (Rhea Seehorn), is also interesting to watch.
Ozark is relentlessly humorless and bleak.
Another one I loved was House of Cards. The show, a relatively early streaming success, about a corrupt President and his wife (Kevin Spacey and Robin Wright) ended just as the Trump presidency was beginning (or, at least the first five seasons with Spacey). Some said it reminded them of the Clintons, but that’s part of what made it fun. To this day, we don’t know what the Clintons did or did not do. But speculation makes for good drama. The duplicity of the Underwoods was so well written and played that you found yourself wanting them to succeed in their evil machinations.
I have never cheered the Byrdes.
Today, corruption is not so shocking anymore. The Trumps put it right out in the open. Now, dealing with the aftermath of that presidency, fiction has become fact; in real life, it’s not so entertaining. And so, there’s not as much fun watching these despicable people on Ozark.
Will I continue to watch Ozark? Probably, knowing that it is only one season and my curiosity might keep me going. But watching Season 4 is kind of like watching Archie’s Place after All in the Family; The Golden Palace after Golden Girls; The Conners after Roseanne. You’ll stick around to see what happens.
But not for long.
