SAMCRO are out of control. A criminal biker gang led by a man determined to take his anger out on the world and ride his club through hell’s fiery gates, casually shooting any devils foolish enough to get in the way. So far the seventh (and final) series of the Sons of Anarchy has had more double-crossing and gang violence than the previous one and I am only halfway through. I am surprised they haven’t run out of characters to put a bullet through.
It’s ludicrous. Alliances are made and broken faster than playground friendships and problems are usually solved by shooting someone in the face or a short truce followed by shooting someone in the face. They still have all the gurning angst and leather-clad bromance of previous seasons but it’s been dialled back to accommodate a chaos of shifting allegiances and shootouts where the Sons gun down rivals who ineptly return fire A-Team style into the dust. It’s like the writers have gone mad.
In a good way. Because it’s just a thrill. I am sure if you sat down and started pulling at the plot then the whole thing would unravel faster than a Primark scarf but in the moment of watching you just go with it. The idea of bikers nonchalantly murderising their rivals while the police give a we-got-nothing on-em shrug may not be very realistic but it’s certainly exciting. Like going on a 5-star rampage in GTA only to get dropped outside the court house once the police overwhelm you. Getting off on a technicality probably. Or something.
I am going to enjoy every minute of gleeful violence in the last 8 episodes or so because even though it’s full of unsavoury killers who value Harley Davidsons over human life it’s a wild and crazy ride that I can grin at while my disbelief gets firmly suspended. Then I will go and do the washing up like a normal person.