An Appreciation of “Six Feet Under”

Note: I’ve made many specific examples a bit vague–I’ve tried to keep this article spoiler-free so that if you haven’t seen it yet, I won’t ruin anything for you with this article. You can read it to see what I think is great about it without knowing all the things that will happen as the show progresses. If you have seen the show, I think you’ll know which incidents I’m referring to whenever you come across their reference here.

At it’s heart, “Six Feet Under is about asking yourself the “big questions.” It’s about the different paths people take attempting to make the most out of their lives and how to recover from tragedy. It’s about life and death, grief and hope, faith and the lack thereof. It does what very few shows or films are able to do–it shows genuine emotion that seems to be very real. It deals with spirituality in ways that pop culture rarely does–most of the characters on the show desperately want to believe and they strive to believe in themselves and in more than themselves, sometimes in bits of success and other times they come up short. For a lot of people faith often feels like this, something you have to work at and hope for, something that doesn’t come easy. Watching “Six Feet Under” we see characters float in and out of Episcopal churches, Universalist churches, even a Quaker church. Most shows, short of “The Simpsons,” never show their characters in church even though a large percentage of Americans attend some sort of church on some type of basis. Not only does this show occasionally show that, it also shows the good and the bad in those churches and in the characters, and these people truly grapple with their own spirituality.

“Six Feet Under” is about the Fischer family: Ruth, the mother; Nate, the eldest sibling; David the middle sibling; and Claire the youngest. David works in the family business–Fischer and Sons, their family owned and operated Funeral Home which is connected to their house in Los Angeles. Claire is still in high school as the show begins, and Nate has been running a food co-op and living in Seattle. He meets Brenda at the LA airport as the show begins and they begin a “relationship” quite quickly (she will be a major focus of the show as well). Nate is coming home for Christmas with the family, and the family father, Nathaniel (owner/operator of Fischer and Sons) dies within the first few moments of the show in a car wreck. That’s as much of a spoiler as I’ll give, in that it only reveals what you will learn within minutes during the first episode. The father, Nathaniel, will still remain a character throughout the show, because the characters see and have mental conversations with their dead father throughout the series (also, the characters will “converse” with many other dead characters throughout the series, both of the bodies they are working on in the funeral home and of loved ones that have passed on). Fisher and Sons also employs a non-family member, Rico. He works as an undertaker alongside David and for professional work Rico is the reconstruction expert. The show will also focus on him and his relationship with the Fischers, as well as his relationship with his wife and family.

The show deals meticulously with a specific occupation. Amidst a sea of TV shows that focus on police officers, lawyers and doctor’s, “Six Feet Under” goes in a completely different direction and deals with a totally different type of profession, one that even today remains somewhat of a mystery for many people, and it does it perfectly. It’s evident that the research has been done, and the audience gets to see accurate portrayals of what goes on in a funeral home both in the front parlor and in the back where the reconstruction and embalming occurs. Although the characters’ personal lives may be “amped up” for dramatic appeal, their professional work remains true-to-life.

Every actor on the show does an incredible job. It’s a writer’s show in that it digs deep into its subject matter and expresses themes perfectly, but it’s just as much an actor’s show in the way everyone plays their part with drive, craftsmanship and fearless abandon. It’s because of the actors that we as the audience grow such an attachment to the characters. When a major character dies, you really miss them on this show, more than you would think possible for a fictional character. The actors powerfully portray grief, joy, humor and anger extraordinarily. Peter Krause plays Nate with such conviction that you sometimes feel he’s your own brother.  Although Frances Conroy’s Ruth may be unlike your mother in many ways, her manner of grief and action echo what many of our mothers have been like in their times of grief. Lauren Ambrose’s Claire is the perfect younger sibling–rebellious, artistic, yearning to be something different. For sheer acting chops there are numerous examples in which to study these actors skill–be it Michael C. Hall and Matthew St. Patrick  as David Fischer and Keith Charles, perhaps the strongest and most honest gay couple to ever be depicted on television, or Peter Krause as Nate, in one particular scene in which he is burying a loved one alone in the desert,  completely overcome with grief and guilt screaming in anger and sadness at the sky. Or Michael C. Hall again as David trying to recover from a terrifying personal tragedy, simply struggling to get through the day. Of course there are scenes of great humor, sometimes dark but sometimes not, in which each and every actor on the show displays a wide range of ability, able to fluctuate all across the emotional spectrum, often within the same episode.

The show deals with a wide variety of topics and issues in a realistic and fair manner. Drugs are given a balanced, normal turn; sure, it may be a bit “liberal” in that practically every character smokes marijuana at some point, but the show is fairly honest in it’s handling of it. Nate uses it casually, sometimes going for a run afterwards; Ruth, the mother, tries it experimentally, lightly and occasionally with no real ill effects. Claire uses it quite a lot more often and eventually in combination with other drugs but for the most part stays safe. Brenda uses it compulsively in conjunction with a dangerous sexual compulsive behavior and it affects her very badly. Other drugs are explored, Claire uses cocaine  and crystal meth on both seem to affect her quite adversely; David is forced to smoke crack at gunpoint and we see a truly dangerous and scary drug’s effects.

Family roles and responsibilities are a heavy topic; Nate pretty much assumes the role of patriarch, sometimes begrudgingly; Ruth struggles to find a place for herself after her traditional role changes and she feels out of touch with her children. Family roles fluctuate as the characters try to deal with the absence of their father, the return of their eldest sibling and how these changes affect the business. Relationships and trust are heavily explored. Brenda and Nate seem to be one of those couples that probably just shouldn’t be together but keep coming back to each other no matter what kind of damage they’ve done to each other; David and Keith on the other hand seem to be one of those couples that need to be together but keep making mistakes and it takes them awhile to get themselves completely adjusted–out of everyone’s tangled relationships and even though they also do each other wrong on several occasions, David and Keith seem to have the strongest relationship on the show. Series writer Alan Ball made a comment in an interview that he didn’t believe it was a “great act of bravery” any longer for straight men to strongly and convincingly play gay characters as is done by Michael C. Hall and Mathew St. Patrick as David and Keith, but he did feel like it was an act of cowardice for actors to be afraid to do so. These two actors play their characters all-out, strongly and convincingly and most people will care about their relationship on the show like any other great fictional relationship, instead of writing it off as an “obligatory gay storyline,” and that’s a great success.

Just to cover as much of the great details present in the show, I will comment briefly on the music. The score is terrific, as well as the soundtrack–songs remain in the background when necessary and swell to a main focus when appropriate. The use of Death Cab for Cutie’s “Transatlanticism” is just one of many well chosen and well placed songs present in the series.

“Six Feet Under” runs for 5 seasons, with about 13 episodes per season, and ends at just the right time. Many shows continue long after their story has been told, but not this one. The final episode, “Everyone’s Waiting,” ends the series perfectly. What’s great is that we all get to see what happens to each remaining character, as the series zips through to each characters death as Claire is driving away from town. We see how old they will be, what they will be doing with their lives and how they will die, which is very fitting for this show. We’re not left hanging, forever wondering what became of the characters nor are we left to find out with a belated “reunion special.”

It’s clear that a lot of factors set “Six Feet Under” above other shows. By simply comparing it with another suitable show is a good way at determining what some of these factors are. I think a good show to contrast with it is “Nip/Tuck.” Both shows are strong “writer driven” shows that deal with people who work in very specific professions–”Six Feet Under” deals with funeral home directors and their families, “Nip/Tuck” deals with plastic surgeons and their families. Both shows detail their characters going through a wide variety of topical issues, personal tragedies and complicated relationships. Both shows have clearly done their research in regards to their respective vocational focus areas; the plastic surgeries on “Nip/Tuck” and the embalming and reconstruction on “Six Feet Under” are meticulously accurate and detailed and neither are for the faint of heart in their graphic intensity. Troubled teens? “Six Feet” has Claire, “Nip/Tuck” has Matt. Compulsive behavior? “Six Feet” has Brenda, “Nip/Tuck” has Dr. Christian Troy.  Both shows begin each episode in a similar fashion–someone dies at the beginning of “Six Feet” and that becomes the body that arrives at Fischer and Sons during that episode; on “Nip/Tuck” each show begins with the partners at McNamara/Troy saying to their potential patient, “Tell me what you don’t like about yourself.” In both shows the body or the patient and the work done on them may be a primary focus and an integral part of the episode, or they may be a background focus that more subtly influence the episode. So, as you can see, both shows have quite a bit in common. Now I’m about to explain how “Six Feet Under” is a superior show and how it succeeds and becomes classic when ultimately “Nip/Tuck” does not.

During its first season, “Nip/Tuck” showed a huge amount of promise. It got you to care about the characters quickly, gave you enough vocational realism to pique your intellectual curiosity, and gave plenty of plot twists and cliffhanger endings. As a viewer you kept coming back to find out what would happen. If you watch the first season for the first time on DVD it will work like any other great TV on DVD experience– “Just one more,” you’ll be likely to say. As for acting skill, each actor pretty much nails their character, at least as much as the writer’s allow the characters to be fleshed out. For dramatic range, anger, lust and sorrow tend to be on full display. Then “Nip/Tuck” reached its second season. In many ways season two is almost as good as season one, but with the introduction of a new plot thread about a serial rapist, “The Carver,” the show seems to lose a great deal of focus. Audiences do get glued to the show to find out who the Carver might be, but by giving so much time and focus to this thread the show ceases to adequately explore what drives the main characters and the dynamics of their families and those they have personal relationships. After the second season, the show seems to completely unravel; an extremely weak and unfocused third season was largely scripted by fill-in writers while the series creator and principal writer was busy working on his screenplay, “Running With Scissors.” The 4th season and beyond brought the show “back to its roots” in some ways and added new plot threads to further the concept, but the show began to seem like it was just running in place. When you examine it to see why this is the case and what the show was lacking it seems a major reason is the huge level of superficiality. Outrageous shock and awe moments happen on “Nip/Tuck” for what seems like no other reason than to attract attention– “Look at me!” The characters never seem to actually develop. As for subtext and depth of concept, the show never really seems to be thematically addressing anything much more than the presence of and problems with superficiality in modern society and the fact that money can’t always buy happiness.

“Six Feet Under” just covers so much more ground emotionally and intellectually. Late in the series when Brenda comments on how “as you get older your circle starts to tighten…fewer and fewer people seem to actually ‘get’ you anymore,” or when David is conversing with his late father in his head and his dad tells him, “It’s easy for you, you’re still alive.” David replies, “It can’t be that simple,” and his dad says, “But what if it is?,” these type of moments echo and reflect what many of us have often felt in our lives.
The show almost begins to hit you over the head with the stressing of one clear idea–that life is short and that we are blessed to have the time we do have so we better make the most of it. That’s a timeless thought, but one we seem to always forget.