I hate to say it, but at this point, there’s basically nothing Ringer can do to get me excited about watching again. I just don't see it happening. Don’t get me wrong—I’ll still try to find things to enjoy in each episode, because I feel obligated to watch through the finale, at least. But overall, I’d say we can safely call the show a failure: a neo-noir that never committed to the genre, a nighttime soap that took itself too seriously.
There is no longer anything I look forward to about the show, and there aren’t any twists that catch me off-guard. As I said last week, the characters are so wildly inconsistent, it doesn’t really matter that they swing back and forth between good and evil. I’ll accept whatever nonsense the writers throws at me, because I know this show isn’t grounded in logic, but I’ve been given little reason to root for anyone, and I’m not suddenly going to join Team Bridget.
This week’s episode was especially frustrating, offering both fake-outs and a lot of unbelievable timing. Andrew was in danger, then he wasn’t. Olivia kidnapped Juliet, then she didn’t. Malcolm was dead, then he wasn’t. Basically any time I began to think, “Hey, this could be interesting,” Ringer pulled back and said, “Never mind.” The show wastes so much on false leads, which may be designed to build suspense but to me feels more like dragging a flimsy story out over the course of a TV season.
The all-too-convenient near-misses are also irritating. You know, Henry arriving in the hospital room just as Siobhan is going to tell Andrew the truth—such moments are reasonable on television every once in a while, but don’t work when they pepper every episode. It’s not challenging to watch Ringer, because more often than not, the big reveals just keep getting postponed. And when they do happen, it’s too late in the game for me to care much about the fallout.
While I’m ranting, let’s talk a little bit about suspension of disbelief. Machado finds a tarot card and immediately knows that it must be from this one laundromat and not any of the dozen magic shops that sell them? Or how about Andrew listening to Bridget talk about shooting her would-be assassin, and not telling the police? If you’ve just been shot while saving your wife, and she reveals this was the second attempt on her life, would you not immediately share that information with the proper authorities? Maybe they could actually do their jobs and find the hitman.
Of course, all of this pales in comparison to the biggest plothole of all—the fact that Machado still hasn’t called Bridget out on her real identity. Okay, you could say he knows and he’s waiting for her to come forward, but that’s just silly. If he had any inkling that “Siobhan” was really her twin sister, he would have a ton of questions. But no, everyone assumes that “Siobhan” is just Siobhan, even though Bridget’s whereabouts are unknown and she was on the run from the law when she disappeared. Don’t ask too many questions, agent!
I don’t know where this is all going to end up, but like I said, I’m past the point of caring. I do wonder how Ringer was planning on sustaining itself over the course of several seasons. The story and the characters haven’t been strong enough to last for even one: If there was a plan for an epic thriller, it was botched from the get-go.
– Is Malcolm still alive, or is he also in a shallow grave somewhere?
– How long until Bridget tells Andrew about Catherine’s extortion plot?
– Is Machado the worst detective ever, or what?