TV Rewind: What The Leftovers‘ Matt Jamison Taught Us About Faith
Photo Courtesy of HBO
Editor’s Note: Welcome to our TV Rewind column! The Paste writers are diving into the streaming catalogue to discuss some of our favorite classic series as well as great shows we’re watching for the first time. Come relive your TV past with us, or discover what should be your next binge watch below:
HBO’s The Leftovers is a hard series to watch and an even more daunting one to explain. A melancholic, darkly humorous, and often difficult drama about the aftermath of a world in which two percent of the human population suddenly vanished, this was never going to be the sort of show that made for easy viewing. A series that constantly wrestles with seemingly impossible questions—Is God real? Is there a purpose to suffering? How can we keep hoping for a better future in the face of so much pain happening right now?—it often dances on the knife’s edge between sorrow and joy.
These are weighty, difficult issues of the sort that most television series never bother to even acknowledge, let alone structure their entire narrative existence around. The Leftovers is not only unafraid to embrace wildly polarizing narrative topics, but it’s also willing to admit upfront that it doesn’t know the answers to the existential questions it raises. And, for the most part, it doesn’t even seem to consider the answers that important in the grand scheme of things.
This isn’t a show that will tell you whether God exists or if humanity is damned or what, precisely, caused the precipitating event of the series. It won’t even bother to explain how of much what we, as viewers, are seeing is real: Whether Kevin Garvey (Justin Theroux) is having visions or a garden variety mental breakdown, if Nora Durst (Carrie Coon) really somehow crossed over to another world to see her Departed children again, or if Holy Wayne (Paterson Joseph) was really hugging the pain out of people back in Season 1.
Nowhere is this grim, frustrating, and strangely beautiful dichotomy more apparent than the show’s treatment of Matt Jamison (Christopher Eccleston), a kind and well-meaning Episcopal priest who struggles to understand how the God he loves could not only allow an event like the Sudden Departure to happen, but would leave his creation to suffer so blindly in its aftermath.
Over the course of the series’ three seasons, Matt’s faith is constantly tested: battered by circumstance, frustrated by the oddity of timing, and besieged by what seems to be little more than terrible luck. Yet, his is a story of a man desperate to forge meaning out of repeated horror, to spread the good news in a world that often seems to value or offer neither.
Whether or not he’s ultimately successful is a question that is left up to viewers to decide. The Leftovers is a show that will land differently depending on what you believe the story you’re seeing to be. For some, that will be wildly freeing, the equivalent of watching a sort of visual Rorschach test from episode to episode where you, as a viewer, take what you need from the story at the moment. For others, The Leftovers’ aggressive lack of specificity and its repeated rejection of the concept of objectifiable truth can prove frustrating and infuriating by turns.
It makes a certain amount of sense that Matt, of all people, would be particularly invested in the truth behind the Sudden Departure. For a man of God whose literal job is to prepare his followers for the End Times, the threat of the Biblical Rapture having happened while he wasn’t paying attention on a random October day is upsetting on multiple levels. That he has subsequently chosen to devote his life to disproving the idea that there was anything particularly holy about the people who disappeared often seems cruel on the surface—and there’s something truly awful about distributing pamphlets to grieving people insisting that they need to admit their loved ones gambled and cheated and stole—but it comes from a place of deep belief.