Remote Destination Tell Me You Love Me

I’m a sucker for HBO programming. I love The Wire and I still mourn Rome, Deadwood and John from Cincinnati. Basically, if it’s an hour-long program from HBO, I’ll give it a shot.

So, Tell Me You Love Me. Um, yeah.

I’ve got a friend who’s two kids and lives with his girlfriend. In my eyes, he’s trapped. Well, Tell Me You Love Me is more soul crushing than a phone call from him.

To put it another way, it’s such a harrowing portrait of relationship strife that I’ve been celibate for nearly four years, and after every episode I feel fortunate.

Don’t get me wrong; the show has its pluses and minuses.

On the plus side it’s got fully realized characters in realistic settings. And it’s pretty revolutionary in it’s use of un-erotic sex. It’s clearly the most mature handling of sexuality that I’ve seen portrayed on television. Never has nudity been less titillating.

On the minus side there’s nothing to really sink your teeth into story-wise. Things unfold slowly. It makes the aforementioned The Wire feel like a frenetically paced show. Oh and did I mention how un-erotic it is? Seriously, nearly every sex scene flows as smoothly as when I lost my virginity. And the less said about the sexagenarian sex scenes the better (though I will say it’s impossible to turn away from).

I watch the show, but I can’t say it’s really entertaining. It’s more of a “where are they going” than “I can’t wait for the next episode” type of vibe. Tell Me You Love Me is revolution of such a mundane nature that it’s like mircowaveable oatmeal; it’s groundbreaking but the end result is hardly exciting.