In a breathtaking attempt to express herself openly and tell others exactly what she wants and doesn't want, Claire is experimenting with her assertiveness. While her cocky flirtations and insensitivity can be tough to take, it's clear she's trying to find a style that feels right to her. Could she end up like Margaret, Brenda's self-indulgent, borderline sociopathic mother? Or will she find some middle ground as an emotional, assertive artist? For all of her mistakes, Claire might be the most grounded of the Fishers, and she's certainly the most dedicated to pursuing her own path. While she started out with such blandly boy-crazy story lines, these days it's both inspiring and fun to see Claire sort through art-school pretensions, hipster afflictions and empty intellectualism, casting each aside in her relentless pursuit of something pure and worthwhile.
Like Claire, "Six Feet Under" has evolved far beyond its beginnings, and only concerns death in as much as death brings our focus back to the problem of living. While zany undertaker stories are nice as an occasional diversion, the meat here is in the finely drawn characters trying desperately to sally forth in the face of such a rich awareness of how little time they're given.
Not surprisingly, imitations of "Six Feet Under" abound: "Dead Like Me," "Tru Calling," "Out of Order" and the now-canceled "Wonderfalls," all trying to mimic the show's strange mix of cynicism, earnestness, magic and melancholy. No other show comes close to packing even its smallest stories with such a dramatic punch, though. Part of the credit for this should go to Alan Caso, the show's director of photography, who makes sure every single shot is as clean and beautiful and dramatically lit as a photograph hanging in a gallery. Much of the credit should also go to the talented actors that make up the cast.
Mostly, though, the show's imitators make the mistake of trumping up the importance of each plot twist instead of lingering as close to reality as possible. Oddly, realism is what gives "Six Feet Under" its high stakes. By depicting life's experiences the way they feel to real people, the show's writers bring a tangible sense of elation or regret or confusion to the smallest scenes. When Claire sees classmate and performance artist Edie (Mena Suvari) onstage for the first time, and her eyes get wide and glow, even as Russell panders for her attention, you remember that feeling of awe you got when you were young and you met someone who was everything you wanted to become. When David and Keith glance at each other and laugh after a moment of pointless bickering, you can feel that sense of familiarity and deep love and regret that comes from being with the same frustrating but lovable person for years. When Nate seeks out affection in the wake of Lisa's (Lili Taylor) death, you get a taste of how it feels to endure the death of someone close, the intense desire, in the face of despair, to feel and celebrate the fact that you're still alive. No matter how weighty and dramatic the story lines might be, no matter how beautifully the scenes are shot or how salient and rich the dialogue is, the whole always feel organic and familiar.
By this point, most viewers are inured to courtrooms and hospitals and police headquarters. We've occupied these spaces for far too long. Thanks to this familiarity, their dramas have to be amped up beyond realistic proportions just to get our attention. Look at shows like "The Practice" and "CSI: Miami" and "ER" for a slice of the current cartoonish, absurd streak that runs through most dramas. Disasters must be bigger and more horrifying than ever, crimes must be more complicated and absurd and difficult to predict, and the stakes are pushed so high we can't buy one bit of it, let alone relate to it.
Meanwhile, the stuff of everyday life holds all of the tragedy and elation and melancholy that it ever has. On "Six Feet Under," we encounter characters who are just normal people, trying to find happiness the way normal people do. They talk around the truth, they cringe, they smirk, they lie to themselves, they show up late, they make mistakes, they try again. It's all so fucking impossible, and that's what makes it all so extraordinary.