Orange Is The New Black: Season 6

Day 11. 112 pages, 50,767 words.

This is apparently a fairly regular thing now, when Mrs. Hatboy and the kids go away for their traditional wool-dyeing weekend. A new season of Orange Is The New Black hits Netflix and I watch it in a couple of marathon sittings.

Hey, at least this time I chowed down on sushi one night, and Nepalese curry the next. Bachelor life after 40 is classy.

Anyhoo, this year was no exception and I sat down to watch the sixth season. I came out of it wondering if it will be the last – as always with these shows, you always end up thinking they can’t possibly come out with another season after the finale – but apparently there will at least be a seventh season. So, Daughters of Handicrafts Dyeing Weekender 2019, bring it on!

This was a hard season to watch. Way less comedic than the early seasons – the action is taking place in maximum security now, not minimum – but still funny, in a really dark way. And man, that finale. Gut-wrenching. Utterly gut-wrenching.

Red, played by Kate Mulgrew, remains a highlight, as does Luschek, played by Matt “discount Chris Pratt” Peters. But every character is really well-settled and realised now, and the new maximum security characters, both inmates and staff, are just glorious. And the back-stories, told in flashback showing how each of the new characters would up where they are … absolutely fucking chilling.

The show taps beautifully into the current social and political climate in the US, and is amazingly written and superbly acted. I last talked about this back around season 3, but this show hasn’t lost its edge – if anything, it’s [insert cool shiv metaphor here]. It’s moved on from being a black comedy about the ludicrous inhumanity of the penal system, and become a simple question:

What is the difference between the animals in there, and the animals out here?

Do yourself a favour. Check this show out.

About Hatboy

I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends. Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages? I am Hatboy.
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