I’ve never jumped on the computer to write anything on this blog, but I had to come here to praise and put down my thoughts about the recent HBO show, Olive Kittredge.

I watched the Emmy Awards last week, and when “Olive” started receiving every single award, I was upset and, yes, angry.  None of my favorite shows seemed to be winning.  Every time a new category was announced, I said “I know…Olive Kittredge has this one, too.”  What was going on?  I hadn’t heard much about the show at all.  The subject sounded boring.

The following week I downloaded it from On Demand and proceeded to become fascinated, mesmerized, and finally, so wrapped up in this story about a crotchety, honest-to-a-fault, mean-to-her husband-and-son, woman that I could not stop.  I usually watch recorded news early in the morning, but this morning, I watched the 4th and final episode starting at 7:30 a.m.

I was so moved that the fact is, I cannot find the words to describe this multifaceted title character and this show.  And I don’t want to add too many words.  Sometimes we can talk about a thing so much that we diminish it.  Olive would approve.

Frances McDormand, as Olive, leads the perfect cast.  No one falls short in the acting department — from her husband to her dog — including the lovely but too brief appearance of Bill Murray in the 3rd and 4th segments.

Richard Jenkins is wonderful as her desperately-seeking-love-or-companionship husband.  I saw some actors’  faces that were familiar and some that were not, but I’m here to tell you everyone was perfection.

But back to Frances McDormand.  I’ve always admired  her work, but this was a performance inspired by the God within her.

I still have tears in my eyes.

If you can’t take reality, don’t watch it.

 

The End

p.s.  I saw a bit of myself in Olive.  A little scary for me.