What Has Given Season Two of “The Leftovers” Its Unique Structure and Narrative Approach?
Damon Lindelof found huge success with Lost (2004). Though the show’s ending polarized viewers, it remains one of the higher-regarded television series of recent years. His follow-up, The Leftovers (2014), opened to more of a mixed bag. The show’s first season was extremely heavy and emotional. It was packed full of so much detail and symbolism and metaphor that made it hard to tell what was important, what wasn’t, and where anything was going. It was far from a bad series, but it certainly wasn’t for everyone. It required emotional dedication that wasn’t necessarily rewarded in the end.
Taking a cue from The Wire’s (2002) playbook, The Leftovers turned a new direction for its second season. It didn’t exactly throw out everything from season one, but it pushed it all to the background. The major events and characters of the freshman season were whittled down to serve as a frame bordering the rich and beautiful canvas of Season Two. It even found a less-depressing theme song. And the show’s new approach to storytelling is something unlike anything else currently on television.
The Leftovers made a drastic change in location, uprooting from fictional Mapleton in upstate New York and transplanting to fictional Jarden, aka “Miracle,” Texas. It cut its cast down to the necessities, and took its time before focusing on them as essential to the new plot. Instead, the series introduced new characters right away, and altered the format to one in which every episode as a concise and tightly-controlled perspective.
The first three episodes of The Leftovers’ second season barely span 24 hours of real time. They tell the story of a single day as seen from three different mildly-entwined perspectives, with a little backlog added to explain the seasonal transition. Episode one introduces the season’s new family, The Murphys, with first-season-stars The Garveys not making an appearance until the very end. The second episode then depicts the same day from the viewpoint of the Garveys. Episode three is all Lori (Amy Brenneman) and Tom (Chris Zylka). And so on…
The show is carried by a few minor mysteries: What happened to the Murphys’ daughter, who disappeared (in apparent Sudden Departure fashion) in the first episode? Is Kevin (Justin Theroux) losing his mind, or is he really being haunted by Patty (Ann Dowd), the suicidal cult leader from season one? Did preacher Matt’s (Christopher Eccleston) wife actually wake from her coma for one night? Why does John Murphy (Kevin Carroll) have such contempt for Jarden? These are the questions each episode asks and explores without muddling them all together into some over-complicated philosophical stew. What this season really seems to understand is that the characters are the strength of the show. They are what makes this story work. We’re never going to find out why 2% of the population disappeared. We’re never going to uncover the foundations of all the oddities and mysteries that exist in a post-departure world. What we do get to see is how this vast array of individuals is handling everything—or not handling everything—and what becomes of them.
This focus leads to incredible performances. Joshua Alston of The A.V. Club wrote, “If you’re an actress on a television drama with plans to lobby for one of next year’s Outstanding Actress in a Drama Emmy awards, and the name of your show is not The Leftovers, your target is getting narrower by the week. Maybe don’t even think too hard about the Emmys next year. Maybe submit something, maybe not, whatever, but release the stress of the whole thing, y’know?”
When a show’s appeal is 100% character-based, it calls upon the actors portraying those characters to give them some real life. This season of The Leftovers has remarkable performances from Regina King, Carrie Coon, Christopher Eccleston, Kevin Carroll; the list goes on. The direction and writing are tight and deliberate, expertly crafted to bring out the core of these people.
Each episode features only a small batch of the overall cast, allowing that hour to focus specifically on that group’s perspective and personal journeys. One episode was almost solely Matt and Mary (Janel Moloney)—and the latter is comatose. Particular episodes may cross plots with events we saw in a previous week, but only in ways that truly supplement the material. Nothing seems to be done just for the sake of cleverness or false mystery the way the first season frequently felt. The new point of view makes every scene feel meaningful and gives something to the overall story.
None of this is the way television typically works. It becomes hard to even say there is a “star” of The Leftovers. It becomes hard to say the show is about “this” character, and the rest are supporting cast. It is each person’s story, and each gets their own attention in equal measure.
A show about a sudden departure had the foresight to make a departure of its own, losing the template that drove modest first-season success into a second season for the history books.