At the polite urging of , I can’t tell you much about their new thriller-type-thing, . I can’t tell you what the series is actually about, even though it’s based Robert McCammon’s novel , so that information is easy enough to find if you care. I can’t tell you what happens to most of the main characters, though I’m not sure under what circumstances I would have been tempted to do so anyway.
I can’t tell you about the very cheesy piece of special effects that inspired the show’s rainbow-y title treatment — and, like, fair enough, though nobody will actually be excited by the discovery when it arrives. One thing I feel OK telling you, without revealing what character says it, to whom it’s said or the overall context in which the words are uttered, is that the last line of the season’s eighth and final episode is, “We’re not going anywhere until you tell us what the fuck is going on.” It’s a sentiment that 99 percent of viewers will have already uttered to themselves as both a demand and as a statement of fact, since this is one of those shows that absolutely grinds itself to a halt in order to avoid coming out and directly articulating specific narrative details, so as to withhold them for the majority of the season.
That choice is infuriating but also makes perfect sense, since becomes dumber and dumber the more breadcrumbs it scatters. Most of those are delivered in the 51-minute fifth episode, a flashback-heavy slog that abandons the reasonably .