When Alan Ball announced the new series in 2008, Anne Rice fans around the world collectively groaned, "Oh brother, sexy vampires again?"
Interview With The Vampire was so last century, and the skeptics had every right to be skeptical of "True Blood," because vampires had been done to death.
The Twilight series already reintroduced the tried and true format after being thoroughly explored by Rice. But then in all fairness, one could argue that the sexual vampiric undertones of Bela Lugosi's Count Dracula predated Rice by many decades.
What goes around goes around again.
It seems that vampires are a generational thing, like the best new way to wear a baseball cap or the latest cocktail. So at the time it just seemed like Ball was jumping on the fanging bandwagon.
But sometimes, old is new again, and well into Season 4, Ball continues to prove that you can put new stripes on an old vampire.
True Blood is great, true to the erotic, exotic messaging of its predecessors and yet it still manages to feel fresh, and even original. Like those forbearers, True Blood is another flavor of subculture fable, particularly gay subculture. There's wonderful subtext and gay metaphors. And in the best of gay genre, True Blood does the job without preachiness, superiority or heterophobia. The gay messaging is simply part of a bigger picture and sometimes, hilarious.
How can you not love scenes that depict the great, unwashed Billy Joe Ray Bob's of the South sporting picket signs that say things like, "God Hates Fangs!"
"True Blood," like just about everything Ball touches, is a class act. It's subtle. It gets the message across without having to club the viewer with a crucifix. The writing, the acting and the directing are wonderful, and it doesn't take long for even the most vampire-weary to get drawn in.
There's a tasty sip for everyone: straight, gay, lesbian or indeterminate. Almost every citizen of Bon Temps, La., is good-looking or at the very least, intriguing.
Rutina Wesley plays Tara Thornton, and how can you not love that? A beautiful woman of color sports the same name as the iconic, Southern white man's mansion.
Tara made the switch not too long ago. She dumped the hunky boyfriend for a hunky girlfriend, and the transition was refreshingly normal, a real non-issue. Of course, the girls get dirty looks when they hold hands. The Billy Joe Ray Bobs of Bon Temps can't help it, but it's not a big deal for most of the townsfolk. Perhaps its because Tara's oh-so-gay cousin, Lafayette, paved the way.
Lafayette is colorful on the least of his flamboyant days. He can do things with a scarf and eyeliner that would make a drag queen drop dead with envy. Lafayette's a true gender bender in every sense. He's sensitive and enchanted and looks like a pro wrestler. He's the epitome of in-your-face contradiction to stereotype.
The list of engaging characters is as long as the list of cast members. Everyone in Bon Temps has a story to tell, but the real story of True Blood is the story itself, and for the LGBT community, it's a story of inclusion.
It's a story about struggle for equal rights.
True Blood is an allegory, a show where vampires struggle to "come out of the coffin" and be accepted by mainstream society. It's about "vampire rights." It's about the ignorance of the Billy Rae Joe Bobs and the struggles of those who hope to educate those who won't tolerate difference. And finally, it's a story about blood.
It's hard not to consider the implications of tainted blood, for the comparisons with HIV are sometimes less than subtle. Humans fear the blood of a vampire. They fear contamination, and rightly so. The bite of a vampire will forever change one's life.
Yet if it happens, only the ignorant perceive a monster, a threat to society. The newly claimed vampire is often a victim of circumstance and a being who deserves the compassion and the love of society. Mercy is a trait well-earned in Bon Temps.
Unfortunately, True Blood may be running its course. The end may be near as shape-shifters and witches and werewolves clutter the plot. Vampires alone just aren't enough anymore. But, if the final episode is anything like Alan Ball's last episode of Six Feet Under, it will be a memorable and bittersweet finale.
Kurt Niece is a freelance journalist from Tuscon, Ariz., and author of "The Breath of Rapture." He writes about television for Echo Magazine in Phoenix and SDGLN. He is also an artist who sells his work on his website.
The article originally ran on SDGLN.com, and is reprinted with Niece's permission.
