I'm pretty sure that Bates Motel isn't a very good
show (it's trashy like American Horror Story, but less entertaining) even though I've made it to episode three. In fact, it's pretty horrible.
Vera Farmiga, Norman's mother, gets raped within days of buying a nice motel in
coastal Oregon and kills her attacker, a disgruntled townie, and teen Norman helps deal with the body.
The next day at school he notices a drop of blood on his sneaker–and barf in
the trash can, as boys do.
Of course my interest in the show initially stemmed from Henry Thomas once playing a teenage Norman Bates. A commercial glimpe also made me think that the kid in this rendition was kind of cute (he was Charlie in the Johnny Depp version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory) but it turns out that he does nothing for me. And I really hate that he's supposed to be troubled and awkward, yet the popular girls at school pay attention to him. Please.
On the other hand, maybe I shouldn't judge a show by
its reliance on vomit as an emotional indicator because even Enlightened, whose
demise I'm still mourning, used the visual. I love Mike White, like most fellow
INFJs, and therefore, trust his writing ability. I'm too distraught (and lazy)
to dig up the Amy Jellicoe vomit scene.