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Heather makes some great points about the lack of realism in the peripheral characters. This ungroundedness makes JFC seem at times like off-off-Broadway experimental theater...which is a deeply weird thing to behold in HD in one's living room.
That said, I find myself thankful for its weirdness. As much as I loved Deadwood, I always sort of suspected that the story, costumes, and historical setting were besides the point -- like that was just the predictable stuff I had to endure to get Milch's deep intuitions about character and spirit.
JFC, on the other hand, feels more personal and immediate, more like a poem than a novel. I drink a beer and just sort of flow with it, always finding plenty of brilliance and humor to sustain me through the chaos, lunacy, uneven acting, and occasional preciousness. I'd love to see more surfing, too, however.
