Netflix in the United Kingdom.

The Santa Clarita Diet.

An American horror drama series.




Harsh. Biting comedy. if you’ll pardon the pun..And yet not really funny. Not very funny at all.. I stuck it for two episodes. Then, unexpectedly, I started to feel a little queasy..

Now this is not like me but may well be that my fake meat pie was disagreeing with me. Again.

Yet this feeling could have been an intellectually as in metaphorical queasiness instead. Including plenty visual input too. As I considered the scene before me..

On one level this drama could be said to work as a bitingly dark, there I go again, horror comedy. I think that is the term. And I can see how it could appeal to some: as this kind of comedy.

However for me, the comedy didn’t really work. This had to be truly anarchic, free, if you like, comedy for it to be successful. In my opinion.

Unfortunately instead of being anarchic enough to make it: the comedy was generic instead.

Maybe I’m just tired of he whole zombie as empowering thing: especially as in this case, for a woman. Yawn.

As soon as you see the overly meek and mild and overly fussy (as in his her husband) housewife/ heroine in the beginning: you just know that she will shortly kick ass. It writes itself.
This tiresome empowerment theme is taken to the extreme later, inexplicably, by the heroine’s daughter. When she decides, rather unfairly I felt in both cases. to officially kick ass. Too. Just like Mom. Double yawn.

The men, as is so often the case now in dramas, are depicted as the usual wimp and or high functioning nerd (this is the epitome of man now apparently) who is not even allowed to be a cool nerd. Oh no, no, no. Although as time and tribulations go on: he may well relax a bit and become officially cool. such is the dramatic rule. But I digress.

Shocking, indeed really shocking visuals aside: my feelings of impending agenda (right-on-ness as in teachy-preachy themes) did not subside .

Since Lo and behold the “H” word is soon invoked. As the giggling co-conspirators discuss how people would love them for theoretically killing the moustachioed one.

Because now the talk has moved to murder. Since you see it’s all relative, man. Everything is absolute and there is no absolutes.

Of course I will tolerate you, the loving husband croons, in spite of your rather unfortunate tendencies…

It’s all wonderful. I embrace it. As they (now) say. I’m inclusive.

Thing is, maybe the shocking visuals did do for me. As I found myself thinking: this may be the first time that has been shown on Television. Well in full, blaring daylight and realistic close -up.

From start to finish. So to speak..

Live action.

And I have seen some mad things on TV. For me this drama, well two episodes anyway, did not work as slapstick comedy.

Nor did it really work as surrealistic comedy. Nor as a biting, oops there I go again, satirical comedy.

Because due to the generically predictable elements or themes therein: I ponder that this was not satire at all. Just another, wee, extension of the norm.






The Santa Clarita diet reminded me of the film: The Star Chamber.


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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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