Season Nine of The Walking Dead Is Going to Be a Glorious Catastrophe, Isn’t It?
Photo: AMC
If you happen to be a die-hard fan of AMC’s The Walking Dead—assuming that such a thing still exists after eight full seasons of the show pretty much steadily devolving from its 2010 pilot episode—then the last week has basically amounted to theater of the absurd.
First came the news that the show’s main character, Rick Grimes, as portrayed by Andrew Lincoln, would be leaving the series midway through the upcoming ninth season, after shepherding The Walking Dead through its many highs and lows since the Frank Darabont-directed pilot. It’s a devastating loss for the series’ narrative—Rick’s is the most important perspective through which any dedicated fan of TWD (or the Image comic that inspired it) has viewed 115 episodes of the series so far. I can only assume that when this news broke, the only solace in the minds of a many fans was something along the lines of “Well, at least we still have Maggie.”
… Well, wait just a minute.
As it turns out, Maggie (Lauren Cohan) isn’t long for this world on The Walking Dead, either, after being a main fixture of the narrative ever since Season Two back in 2011. And even more incredibly, she’ll also be leaving the series after only six episodes, in exactly the same manner as Lincoln, except she’ll be doing so in order to pick up a starring role in ABC’s new series Whiskey Cavalier, playing a “feisty” CIA agent. You can enjoy that thoroughly pedantic trailer below.
At least the money is probably good, right?
So where does this leave The Walking Dead? The short answer: “Nowhere good.” The longer answer: “Nowhere good, AND…”
More than anything, it’s incredible to think that AMC not only allowed this to happen with their cash cow, a show that previously achieved the highest TV ratings in cable history, but also allowed the news to become public and widespread so long before the season even begins. Think about it: The first episodes of Season Nine don’t air for roughly five months, and we’ve already been informed not only that the two most important characters are leaving the series, but exactly how many episodes they’ll be in before they do. I can’t think of any similar precedent in primetime TV history—I mean, really, how many times have we found out five months in advance exactly when a character will die on Game of Thrones? Do you think you’ll know about Jon Snow’s last episode, 150 days before it airs? I don’t think so, folks, if only because HBO would never let that happen.
Not only that, but think of how badly this information will hurt any dramatic potential that might be left in the departure of these characters. It’s as if the entire sequence of events was designed in advance in order to scrub any semblance of suspense from Season Nine—they might as well start advertising it as “the season where Rick dies,” just to take advantage of the ubiquity of the information.
Then there’s the odd positioning of those two character departures within the frame of the season itself. Both are reportedly appearing in six episodes, which might initially make you think “so they’ll get killed off in the mid-season finale,” except for the fact that Walking Dead seasons have always been 16 episodes long. So what does this mean? The main character of the series dies six episodes into Season Nine, subverting the TWD trope that important events can only happen in mid-season and season finale episodes? Or does it perhaps mean that two episodes of the first half of the season will take place in an entirely different locale, away from both Rick (in Alexandria) and Maggie (in The Hilltop)?
Regardless, there’s no way that the two of them make it past the mid-season finale, which begs the most obvious question: What the hell do you do for the second half of Season Nine? It’s already been widely reported that AMC is making some kind of huge monetary offer to Norman Reedus in order to make Daryl Dixon the de facto “main character” of future episodes, which would certainly imply additional episodes after the end of the ninth season. But Daryl? Really? If you hadn’t watched any of The Walking Dead since Season Two, that might seem like good news to you. Back then, Daryl Dixon was the show’s most popular breakout character, and for good reason. Intriguingly characterized through his adversarial (but grudgingly familial) relationship with his psychotic, racist brother Merle, he was a figure fans could empathize with and rally around. But whatever interest once existed in Daryl has been slowly ground away over the last six seasons, reducing him to a largely silent, squinting, occasionally grunting soldier who has barely spoken in complete sentences since the end of Season Four. The goodwill that existed for his character is long since gone, and AMC should realize this.