Like The Wire, I’d argue that Enlightened becomes better as a whole the more episodes you watch. The character work, especially in its second season, is phenomenal. In this new age of television, it is impossible to categorize it as a comedy or drama, or even dramedy. Putting it in these categories does it a disservice. Like Girls, it transcends television to display very real human emotions and interactions, capturing recognizable experiences the audience can easily relate to in their own lives. I cry, I laugh, I cringe. I want more. I hope all the urging for renewal is noticed by HBO, a network that should be championed for airing the show, and also has the luxury of supporting shows it believes in and allowing time for the audience to grow. Excerpts from “The Ghost Is Seen,” serve as a perfect example of the poetry Enlightened is serving up on a weekly basis:
It’s okay to be a ghost. It has its pleasures. You’re light. You float. You slip in and out unseen. There’s no love to lose. Or burden to be. You have so little to hold you down. You are free. Some pearls are never found. They hide under the sand of the ocean floor. No one knows they’re there. But the pearl knows. Maybe there was a time he wanted to be found. To be seen. And to be held. But now only hope hurts. I am my own secret. A secret kept by me.
Something has changed. Now the ghost is scared. He cannot float. He’s heavy. He’s flesh and blood. He must open doors, he can’t slip away unseen. The ghost is sad. All those years invisible haunt him now. Why didn’t he try? Or care? Or be? The ghost is happy. He is found. He is held. And he is seen. The ghost is seen.