As awards show season begins its March to the Sea and we in the entertainment press community hoist our picks and axes and start shoveling hot takes into the furnace of the Internet for the hungry masses, there is but one thing I’m sure of:
Lera Lynn is being robbed.
Now, some of you are probably saying, “Alex, who’s this Lera Lynn? Surely some fresh-faced ingénue who anchored some little-appreciated character drama on a far-flung network?”
False. Lera Lynn is the wonderfully dead-eyed singer-songwriter who apparently had a residency at the bar (the Black Rose) frequented by Colin Farrell and Vince Vaughn’s characters in the underwhelming second season of True Detective. She should win all the acting awards. All of them. Maybe invent a few. The Silver Raven Acting Award for Actors and Actresses. Sure. Let’s go with that.
There were so many things that were not so great about True Detective season 2, but Lynn was not one of them. Sure, her presence was somewhat ludicrous: Why does this bar – situated in a dead-end industrial town and apparently unable to even pay its light bill, despite stocking an endless supply of Johnny Walker Blue specifically for Vaughn’s character’s visits – choose to employ, for what is apparently a nightly residency, the most depressing, morose singer-songwriter in the world?
Do the residents of Vinci, after a hard day’s work in the chemical mines or whatever else was actually supposed to be that town’s industry, really just want to relax with a cold beer and listen to a song called “My Least Favorite Life?” (In case you were wondering, Lynn’s least favorite life is “this one.”)
Do Lynn’s character’s messed-up teeth and track marks make her an appealing prospect for employment in other bars in Vinci? Upon showing up with her electric guitar and amplifier and lebensmüde, do bartenders and talent bookers all up and down the West Coast say, “You’re hired!”
Probably not. But however the music industry works in True Detective‘s warped world, Lynn sold us on her character’s vision: Soft electric guitar and melancholy are the most attractive sounds for hard-drinking bad men and hard women and whatever other nonsense Nic Pizzolatto wanted to shoehorn into this season. And let’s face it, those songs – written with T Bone Burnett – are pretty good. (Lynn has several real-life albums out as well, and has a tour coming up.)
For all this and more, Lynn deserves an award. Or several. Or at least a residency at a place that looks a little less skeevy.