If you never watched the entire series of Lost or were not a fan of the Alien franchise then watched Prometheus with seething rage, then my review of The Leftovers is not going to make any sense to you. It is as if I’m your parent warning you about something that you are about to do, and you think, “She doesn’t get it. She knows nothing.” You’re going to go forward full of vim and vigor confident that your devotion and awe to all the mysteries alluded to in The Leftovers will be satisfyingly paid off at the end, but one day, eventually, you will realize that it won’t. You will come back to me tearfully and angry at the wasted time, “You were right.” And I’ll say, “It is OK. It is OK. Two words: Damon Lindelhof.” And you’ll learn that if Damon Lindelhof is associated with any production, you’ll get a really cool story initially, but there will be no answers, and he will jerk you around for years. Objectively I’m really happy for him because he is like us-one of the viewers/fans who now gets to do what he loves. Unfortunately he gets to make it into the very thing that we hate–Star Trek: Into The Darkness. So why am I watching The Leftovers if I hate him so much? I want to see what it is like to watch a show with a really cool concept, the Rapture (of course, it isn’t the Rapture, but lets call it the Rapture anyway because if they can be a troll, so can I), knowing that there will be no answers and deconstruct the ways that Lindehof manages to string us along. By episode 3, I predicted literally every twist and turn of that episode! I finally figured out that Lindelhof is a lot like that last episode of Lost: “Unitarian Jihad” [Thanks to Jon Carroll for coining the term]. Give enough of the supernatural to make the audience feel good as if they got some answers and that there was something bigger at work, but just as they are comforted by that thought, pull the rug out from under them with another big counteraction. Lindelhof believes that the supernatural is all one big “got your nose.” He sees the Gift of the Magi-the short story, not the Bible-as a practical joke–that humans are never going to get it together, not a story about self-sacrificial love. At that point, I decided to read the book, The Leftovers, which I heartily recommend. I won’t read the book before the visual adaptation is complete because I generally prefer the written word, but there was no danger in this case. I accept that the tv show, The Leftovers, has a great cast and amazing production values, but is generally an overwrought show hitting the same note hard almost to the point of parody. The beautiful score could be played over a unicorn skipping over rainbows making out with a pegasus, and it would become tragic. While the book slowly strips away the supernatural and sensational for an ultimately optimistic and humanistic ending, the show, The Leftovers, cynically gives us guns, violence, sex, riots and a supernatural dance off of contradictory visions, prophets, miracle workers, inspirational quotes, spirit animals, etc. until it reaches a frenzy of bacchanal proportions with none of the fun.  I like the supernatural and violence to be present in visual media, but I also like meaning and artistic productions to be spiritually faithful to the originating work. I understand why Lindelhof is doing it–he is a cynical troll, but I’m not sure why Tom Perrotta is letting Lindelhof turn his beautiful humanistic masterpiece into a mildly dystopian, highly sensationalistic detour to get to the same ending as the book, but with another season looming over us with further promise to produce sensational artisanal pain for your viewing pleasure, The Leftovers will distance itself further from the beauty and grace of the original. Every work confesses to its viewers what it is about. Listen to Patty in Episode 8, “it doesn’t matter what happened.” If it matters to you, don’t watch this show. If it doesn’t and you like seeing human anguish played to the exquisite depressing hilt week after week, come on board. I’m going to keep watching because I’ve got Lindelhof’s number, but the joke is on all of us as he laughs all the way to the bank.