Finales are a tricky thing. How to strike the balance between "artistic integrity" and "audience satisfaction" is a fine line that I'm sure is difficult to tread. There have been shows I've loved that had lackluster endings, and there have been shows I've tolerated that managed to end on a high note.

The Good Place - if you're buying what they're putting down - had a pitch-perfect ending.



I feel like The Good Place is best experienced the way I encountered it: knowing vaguely that it was about a specific version of "Heaven" and wandering into it with blind faith that Kristen Bell, Ted Danson, and - most importantly - Michael Schur would not steer me wrong.

Honestly, I feel I was well-rewarded for that faith. Even if I haven't followed Mike Schur's most recent endeavours (sorry!)

I was so charmed by this utterly delightful, colourful, quirky world that scratched the itch that Pushing Daisies had first sparked in me that I tried (unsuccessfully) to get others to watch it. It so confidently cast its lot with selfish, self-described "dirtbag" Eleanor Shellstrop and her journey and I was enamoured with each new chapter, even as I sadly had NO ONE to talk to this show about. I was on the edge of my seat for months, waiting for the announcement of a renewal after the first season had quietly come and gone. Was I one of those people who smugly noted that I'd been there since the beginning once people jumped on the bandwagon when Netflix rolled around to save the day? You bet I was!

Even though I am under no pretenses that anyone is reading this journal, I feel like any attempt at summarizing this show would do it a disservice. It needs to be experienced firsthand. It may not have my heart the same way that Parks and Recreation does, or the familiar affection that Brooklyn Nine-Nine inspires in me, but it shares the optimism at the core of both those shows and achieves a level of impeccable execution I can only admire.

In the end, I feel lucky to have been along for the ride.