It’s almost impossible to find realistic depictions of life in Miami. Movies like Miami Vice (the remake of the 80s show), Bad Boys, and Pain & Gain tend to show the glamour and grit of South Beach–often in a fairly exaggerative manner. But what about the rest of the city? What about everyone who lives on the main land; who grew up eating abuela’s arroz y frijoles, who frequented the local Navarro and the little bodegitas, bought their Halloween costume at La Casa de Los Trucos, or drank beers in the double-decker bus in front of Churchill’s (before the city removed it)? Or more succinctly, what about everyone who made the Wynwood their regular hangout, who had crazy birthday parties complete with every fulanito de tal jumping into the bounce house, who hit the bonfires out in the Everglades or got laid at the Executive Airport Hotel?
Cue No Seasons, a show about a local screw-up and his adventures in the Magic City. Or at least, his supposed adventures. In true Miami fashion, Julian (the star and narrator) is a pretty shady character, and as the episodes progress, you realize he may not be telling the whole truth about his rather tall tales.
Still, his stories more closely resemble those of my own life as an early twenty-something nobody bent on self destruction, and they do paint a more accurate picture of the bizarre things that happen in the 305. And while Julian is undoubtedly an anti-hero in every sense of the word (the character is an entitled high school drop-out who can’t maintain a relationship, doesn’t appear to have a job, has sketchy friends, and still lives with his mother), I can’t help but enjoy the absurdity of the show.
If you’re from Miami, you might feel the same way. And if you’re not, enjoy the train wreck…but don’t judge us too harshly. We’re just an odd bunch, a conglomeration of people fueled by Cuban coffee, never-ending traffic, and way too much sun.