David Duchovny Takes on Charles Manson in NBC’s Aquarius

The truth is still out there. Far out there, ya dig?

It’s a late-November afternoon on Paramount Pictures’ lot in Los Angeles, and everyone is feeling groovy during the final days of production on NBC’s new period procedural Aquarius. Dozens of extras cloaked in layers of hippie rags float wistfully around Stage 5 awaiting their turns on camera, while stars David Duchovny and Grey Damon wrap an intense interrogation scene in the adjoining studio, which has been outfitted to represent the LAPD’s Hollywood precinct circa 1967. As the crew preps for the next take, the actors make their way over to a couch adjacent to a car collector’s dream lineup of antique police cruisers, vintage Cadillacs, and a mammoth Plymouth.

“We are not happy driving in it,” Duchovny says of the cream-colored Plymouth. “The turning ra-dius is three blocks, and there’s no air-conditioning, so it’s a sweatbox. But we just kept telling each other it’s realistic—and that sweat is fine.”

“We are immense sweaters!” adds a smiling Damon, who plays rule-breaking undercover cop Brian Shafe. “It’s kind of a pain in the ass, but this guy [pointing to Duchovny] is a real stud.”

Indeed, this is the dawning of a new age for Duchovny, who spent nine seasons investigating paranormal activities as FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder on the sci-fi phenom The X-Files. The 54-year-old actor is making his return to the force—and network television—in Aquarius as homicide detective Sam Hodiak, a Los Angeles lawman whose search for a missing teenage girl (Emma Dumont) leads him to discover an underground movement of free-loving youths led by an aspiring musician named Charles Manson (Gethin Anthony). “Hodiak is more proactive and less investigative than Mulder,” Duchovny says. “The X-Files is a show where you’re chasing big mysteries, but Hodiak is chasing killers. So the mystery is a whodunit and not a what-the-hell-did-it.”

At the center of it is Manson, one of the world’s most notorious criminals. He was sentenced to life in prison after leading his followers on a killing spree in 1969 that took seven lives, including that of actress Sharon Tate. But Aquarius—which creator John McNamara (NBC’s Prime Suspect) classifies as “historical fiction”—is set two years before those events, and Manson is still just a struggling songwriter surrounding himself with a bevy of beautiful women. “Manson is posing as a peace-and-love dude and ends up being our first famous mass murderer, so he’s more of a symbol of when the ’60s died,” Duchovny says. “We don’t want you to sympathize with the guy, but we do want you to empathize with him.”

In finding the right actor to portray this dark American figure, producers took their search across the pond and tapped Oxford University grad Anthony, who most recently played the late Renly Baratheon on HBO’s Game of Thrones. “I started trying to sound like him and really understand his cadences,” Anthony says, citing Nuel Emmons’s book Manson in His Own Words as a vital tool to getting into Manson’s mind. “I tried to erase the monster that permeates our ideas of him. I read about where he grew up and what experiences he had in order to humanize his actions.”

Other cast members also delved into research for their roles. Friday Night Lights alum Damon spent three weeks before production immersing himself in books and documentaries about the Vietnam War to channel his character’s difficult return home from the front lines. “But I had to tone down [my research] a bit after I started having nightmares about Vietnam and comrades blowing up right next to me,” Damon reveals. “I had one dream where I walked into this dark room and Manson was standing there with a switchblade in the garb that he was arrested in…that lambskin.”

Vietnam is one of the many real-life social issues Aquarius will tackle during the course of its 13 episodes. Look for Hodiak and Shafe to enlist the help of a Black Panther named Bunchy Carter (played by fellow Friday Night Lights vet Gaius Charles) for a handful of cases involving race relations. There is also a multiepisode arc involving a shocking murder, which results in Hodiak having to go undercover at a gay nightclub. And the rise of feminism is addressed through the eyes of young female police officer Charmain Tully (The Originals’ Claire Holt), who struggles to earn respect in the cutthroat boys’ club of the precinct. “It’s such a fertile area for stories, because our characters are standing right on the point of history where things are going to go to utopia—where the hippies want to go—or things are going to turn dark, as it does for Manson,” Duchovny says. “Hodiak either has to come along or get left behind.”

In addition to addressing social change, Aquarius has plenty of patented ’60s sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll. The soundtrack in particular plays a vital role in setting Aquarius’s tone. Producers handpicked a variety of rock classics for each episode, with the first hour alone featuring popular tracks from Jefferson Airplane, the Who, and the Rolling Stones. “It was not cheap,” says executive producer Marty Adelstein. In order to avoid those hefty price tags going forward, producers scoured archives for lesser-known songs to showcase alongside the era’s greatest hits. “Frank Sinatra is a huge part of Episode 6, but that motherf—er is so expensive,” McNamara says. “So in that episode, it’s Sinatra and five songs you’ve never heard of. We became connoisseurs of garage bands, one-hit wonders, and B sides.”

The producers are also channeling their inner radicals by testing the limits of traditional network-television standards in the show’s depiction of drug use and sex. Originally conceived by McNamara as an envelope–pushing cable drama, the series was championed by NBC Entertainment Chairman Robert Greenblatt, who previously cast Duchovny in The X-Files and as sex addict Hank Moody on the Showtime comedy Californication. “Under normal circumstances now, talent like David chooses to go to cable or a digital platform first because there are so many restrictions on network television,” Greenblatt says. “But the lines are blurring more, and this has more darker edges and themes than the average broadcast show.”

To that end, NBC made it overtly clear to the show’s creative team that the integrity of the series would remain intact, including the explicit orgies and underage drug use that were staples at the Manson camp. This meant filming—and editing—two different versions of every episode: an hour approved by the network to air in primetime and a racier version that will be released later on Amazon and international platforms. “We would do the digital version, send it to NBC, and their heads would explode,” McNamara says. “Obviously nudity is a huge part of the era, and that is fully [on display] in the digital cuts.”

NBC is going one step further in bucking the traditional broadcast norms of series distribution by making all 13 episodes available for bingeing on nbc.com following the May 28 season premiere. “I believe viewers think more highly of a show that they can watch at their own discretion rather than waiting for every episode to come out,” Greenblatt says. “We’ll just give the viewer more of a chance to get sucked into it faster.”

For Duchovny, the broadcast rules for salty language were the most difficult to overcome, especially while having to play a tough-talking L.A. cop. “I feel like networks allow a lot more violence than they do language, and to me, that’s backward,” Duchovny says. “It’s a part of life. My kids know the words, so I don’t know who we’re protecting.”

Although Manson’s murderous rampage came to an end in 1971, McNamara insists that’s not where Aquarius’s story stops. The producers have six seasons plotted out, with a bulk of the action spanning into the late 1970s before time-jumping to 1984 for its ultimate conclusion. “The show really is about how people deal with failure, tragedy, and changes,” McNamara says. “How do you face the aftermath of things you couldn’t stop or fix?”

A potential six-season commitment might sound daunting to some actors, but Duchovny embraces the challenge as he adds this series to his expanding résumé. Earlier this year, he released his first novel, Holy Cow, about a cow that travels to India to avoid being eaten. And on May 12, he released his first album, a collection of folk-rock tunes, called Hell or High-water. “It’s exciting to be able to do such different things,” Duchovny says. But it is the upcoming reboot of The X-Files that has his fans in a frenzy. Earlier this year, Fox announced that Duchovny and costar Gillian Anderson—who played Mulder’s partner in crime (and later love interest), Dana Scully—would reprise their roles for a six-episode event series written by creator Chris Carter and set to air later in 2015.

“It just happened. We were all able to come together at this moment,” Duchovny says of the timing. “Also, who can’t do six episodes? My mom can do Mulder for six episodes.”

Production is set to begin in Vancouver in mid-June, and Duchovny has been dropping hints about familiar faces that will reappear, telling David Letterman that Mitch Pileggi (Assistant Director Walter Skinner) and William B. Davis (Cigarette-Smoking Man) will be back. Even though Duchovny has yet to see a script, he admits he is most looking forward to reuniting with Anderson to further explore the Mulder-Scully relationship. “I’m just thankful that Gillian will be there to check in with and go, ‘F–k, this is strange!’” he says with a laugh. “We started this show 23 years ago, and here we are still doing it. In some way, it’s a show that never ended.”

Back on the set of Aquarius, it’s apparent that Duchovny has already discovered a fresh new chemistry with his latest on-screen partner, Damon. “I look at the relationship like Jesse Pinkman and Walter White,” Damon says, referring to Breaking Bad’s meth-cooking duo. “They complement each other, both negatively and positively.”

“I’ll say your hair looks great,” Duchovny replies. “That’s a compliment!”

“And I’ll say your hair looks stupid,” Damon says with a laugh as he runs his hands through Duchovny’s crew cut. “This is going to be a wild, interesting, and very groovy ride.”

Crime is Paying Off for NCIS: New Orleans

At a cover shoot for TV Guide Magazine, the five principal cast members of NCIS: New Orleans have just come in from filming a scene at the soundstage next door, but you might think they’d dropped by after a night at Tipitina’s, the Spotted Cat, d.b.a, or one of Orleans Parish’s other celebrated nightspots. Things are getting loosey-goosey—emphasis on the goosing—as the quintet squeezes in tight. Lucas Black is tickling Zoe McLellan. McLellan is borrowing Rob Kerkovich’s glasses for that sexy librarian look. It’s up to Scott Bakula to provide the voice of reason. “We’ll hate these shots, I guarantee you,” he says, right after having his manly bosom groped from behind by CCH Pounder.

“Are we confused as to the nature of this procedural?” asks Pounder, suddenly sounding a sober note as she takes her mitts off the series’ star.

“This is full-on thank God it’s Friday,” says Kerkovich, usually the show’s comic foil, adding his own note of mock solemnity to this touchy-feely free-for-all: “So many people have died so far.”

Well, yes, they have, rather reliably, at the predictable rate of one corpse per week, with occasional bonus deaths in instances involving a mad bomber or some such. CBS’s NCIS: New Orleans didn’t get to be the season’s top freshman show by not playing by the procedural rules. What sailor would want to be stationed here after watching a series, which, if taken literally, suggests that Louisiana has an exponentially higher mortality rate among active and former servicemen and servicewomen than any other seaport state?

Probably a lot of impressionable petty officers are champing at that bit, actually, since the series also suggests that it’s worth the risk of being infected with bubonic plague, murdered vampire-style in a cemetery, poisoned with radiation, or shot during Mardi Gras just to live and thrive amid the city’s infectiously celebratory spirit. And although all the principals have been given—in typical NCIS-franchise fashion—slightly angsty backstories, a typical episode is less likely to end on a brooding close-up than with the characters cooking gumbo for one another in the squad room’s kitchen. And can it even be called a squad room, when the cozily funky office set looks like the House of Blues blew up, albeit with most-wanted lineups on the overhead monitors instead of drink specials?

If procedurals are a kind of comfort food, the good-times-and-autopsies mélange of NCIS: New Orleans managed to attract a whopping 18 million viewers (including DVR), on average, in Season 1 by being primetime’s oysters on the shell or its sugary beignet or nightcapping Sazerac.

“Part of what drew me to setting a show down there,” says creator and executive producer Gary Glasberg, “is the contrast of people who work hard and have faced all kinds of adversity—whether it’s Katrina or socio-economic problems—but hold on to each other and rise up and celebrate regardless. And the beauty of New Orleans is that there’s literally a parade or festival for everything. So you’re constantly working around that.” Sometimes they’re also working around that festiveness psychologically, as the city’s eternally high-spirited side can carry over into a kind of light-headedness at the workplace.

“But,” says McLellan (Agent Meredith Brody), “then we have to be reminded, ‘OK, someone’s dead,’ and remember the urgency of the story we’re telling. Especially when the baby was missing [in the April episode “Rock-a-Bye-Baby”]. It’s like, ‘You care about this baby!’ Got to find the baby! Find the Navy baby!” That last singsongy catchphrase has become a running joke between Black and McLellan—with apologies to missing naval infants everywhere, we’re sure.

Maybe they’ve earned this levity, given the pressure everyone faced at the start of the season just to produce a coherent show, with very little time for conceptual lollygagging. “There was a lot of tension at the beginning,” Black says, “but after we got on air, people at the network began to trust us more, and it felt a little more relaxed on set.” A little? “There was a point during this season where we felt comfortable to do our own thing a bit more, because it was like, ‘Huh! People like us!’” And those people have made this the most successful first-year drama since Desperate Housewives exactly a decade earlier.

But in the first year of any show, says Bakula (a veteran of Quantum Leap, Star Trek: Enterprise, and Men of a Certain Age, among many others), “you just never feel like you have your legs underneath you.” He recounts the series’ hurried history, which began with an embedded pilot that took the form of a two-parter on NCIS in spring 2014: “When we actually got the formal invitation that we were being picked up, it was the beginning of May, and then the scramble began to start shooting July 21. This place [in a New Orleans suburb] went from an empty soundstage to something we were shooting on in five weeks. The first day of shooting, they’d barely sealed the paint on the walls and hadn’t hung any lights.

“We’re not all in the same place, either,” he continues, “so there are so many reasons why it should have been a disaster.” He’s talking about how Glasberg and the writing staff stayed in Los Angeles—and so, in a way, did Bakula, who flew home every weekend, not wanting to uproot his family just as his son was entering high school. Somehow, Bakula also flew to San Francisco a few times to shoot three episodes of HBO’s Looking, fulfilling his promise to wrap up a supporting role on that niche drama’s second season even as he was anchoring TV’s hottest new mainstream show. But that shoulda-been disastrousness “hasn’t been,” he says. “And because they picked us up so early, all our directors are lined up for next year, so invariably it’s going to be an easier process.” Not the big easy, mind you—since, Bakula says, “they keep making the episodes bigger and harder to do”—but easier.

First, there’s a freshman season to wrap. Back on the soundstage, Bakula is shooting a scene for the penultimate episode with Steven Weber (Wings), who has a recurring role as a presumably corrupt city councilman whose unctuousness can be measured by his insistence on wearing sharp suits even in the harshest humidity. You can see the familiarity between these TV pros when they both flub their lines and Bakula quips, “Together, we almost add up to one actor.”

Their characters are discussing the city-rattling repercussions of violence perpetrated by Baitfish, a villain who’s been Special Agent Dwayne Pride’s bête noire throughout the season. No spoilers here, but suffice it to say that Baitfish’s mayhem is the focus of the May 5 episode, which opens the door to an even wider world of crime involving the New Orleans seaport in the May 12 finale. Weber’s politician and Bakula’s determined Pride are going at it over who’s to blame for some very public casualties, before Weber finally lowers his voice and says, “No matter what you think of me, I love this city too.” Which may be setting Weber up to be more sympathetic in Season 2, because, really, how can anyone crush so hard on NOLA and be all creep?

Just as the medical profession’s primary dictum is “First, do no harm,” this show’s initial mission was: Don’t tick off the host city. By that measure, too, the series has been a smashing success—even if everyone you run into in New Orleans will eagerly tell you, unprompted, which actors get the accents right.

“Everybody thinks I’m faking it,” says Black (Special Agent Christopher LaSalle), the lone primary cast member with a real-life Southern twang, thanks to his upbringing in nearby Alabama. “I’ve worked on this accent for 32 years. I feel like I’ve finally got it down pat. It’s a struggle, what we go through as actors.” Another thing he doesn’t actually struggle with: “I love the steaming heat, and I get to laugh at everybody who doesn’t.”

Pounder, who plays coroner Loretta Wade, had a tougher time adjusting, even though she’s gradually shifting her home base from L.A. to New Orleans. “I have to have faith that if the first [NCIS] show has been running for 12 years, maybe the second show [NCIS: Los Angeles] will run for eight years, and maybe this show will run for six or seven.” But, she adds, “I’m a Caribbean person, and this is a Caribbean country, stuck in America. Well, not stuck—happily hanging out in America—and therefore it has all the problems that that has: The heat come summertime is hellish, and that’s when we start our [production] season. I’m hoping to drop enough weight so that the water’s not just pouring out of me like it did last year, when I thought, ‘I’m going to die.’”

Northeast native Kerkovich arrived at an analogy for the city after first visiting (and feeling out of place on) legendarily rowdy Bourbon Street: “A local reporter asked me, ‘What do you think about New Orleans?’ I said. ‘It’s like Bartertown,’ from Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome, which couldn’t be more obscure, because Bartertown isn’t even in the title of the movie. I thought, ‘This interview has tanked.’ I referenced the third Mad Max movie?’” (Yes, the resident forensic scientist is at least as ready with the pop cultural references off screen as on.) “But it’s cool to not be in the L.A./Hollywood world. Here you can go into a coffee shop and not every single person is working on a screenplay. They’re all on their laptops writing jazz.”

Bakula, who’s developed a list of favorite local nightspots despite spending his weekends in L.A., laughs when he’s reminded how he initially hoped the series could be filmed in Hollywood. “There’s a huge commitment to trying to do it correctly here,” he says. “I’ve lived in a lot of great cities in the United States, but this one’s unique in that people are always saying to me, ‘We love what you’re doing here. How are you liking my city?’ There’s this possessiveness about it. You don’t usually hear people say, ‘How are you loving my Santa Monica?’ I love how the people do things outside their homes here, which is kind of counter to the world that’s becoming more like, ‘How can I watch a movie in my house?’”

Not that anyone at this photo shoot wants to discourage NCIS: NOLA binge-watching, although it can lead viewers to mistake the actors for their characters, which they still find amusing. McLellan recalls an exchange she had with a local on Frenchmen Street. “My sister and I went out to hear music,” she says, “and as I go up to the bar to get a drink, this college girl is standing there and is like [affects thick Louisiana accent], ‘Brody, oh my God, hi! Is Pride with you?’ I said no. She said, ‘Good, because I’d do him right here.’”

Perhaps they need to throw in even more morgue scenes, then? Because while this show may be big, it probably shouldn’t feel that easy.

NCIS: New Orleans airs Tuesdays, 9/8c, CBS

Stations of the Cross: How Jesus is Saving Primetime

It’s the greatest story ever told…and told…and told again. “Hollywood,” says Craig Detweiler, a professor of communication at Pepperdine University, “is constantly forgetting and then remembering this character who is revered and studied by hundreds of millions of people on a weekly basis.” Leave it to Jesus, who went momentarily unrecognized by Mary Magdalene after the Resurrection, to be hiding in plain sight—at least as far as the entertainment industry’s attentions are concerned.

But executives don’t have ADD about the Bible anymore—they’ve got A.D. The Bible Continues, plus a batch of others besides. Even veteran viewers of Good Book–to–boob tube adaptations have never witnessed a wave of biblically based television and movies quite like the tsunami of Scripture TV descending on screens like so much white foam over an Egyptian army. You could see it as an ongoing response to the record-breaking box office of Mel Gibson’s 2004 The Passion of the Christ ($612 million worldwide) or just a cyclical reiteration of how every third generation needs its own King of Kings or Ben-Hur. Maybe it’s even a sign that spirituality is blossoming in Hollywood’s executive boardrooms. (Insert holy laughter here.) But heathens and believers suddenly have more 2,000-year-old entertainment choices than you can shake a study Bible at.

Most have been one-offs, but NBC’s A.D. has the legs and plotlines to last well past Ascension Day. Attracting 9.5 million viewers in its Easter debut and handily winning the night, the series is scheduled for a 12-week run (airing Sundays at 9/8c)—and producers Mark Burnett and Roma Downey hope it will score a second season. (If you saw the first-episode spoiler that had Jesus telling Peter, “One day you will die for me,” rest assured the show’s creators will be putting off the fulfillment of that Easter egg for as long as possible.) Religio-historical dramas aren’t just for basic cable anymore, not after Burnett and Downey’s The Bible premiered to 13.1 million viewers on the History channel in 2013.

For evangelicals, A.D. is the draw of the season, although other religious constituencies have also been addressed. The slightly skeptical had the National Geographic Channel’s Killing Jesus. For the somewhat more skeptical: CNN’s alliterative documentary Finding Jesus: Faith, Fact, Forgery. Then there was CBS’s The Dovekeepers, Downey and Burnett’s fictionalized drama set at the first-century fortress of Masada, in which its comely leads got to know one another in the biblical sense.

A similar boom is evident in cinemas, with Burnett and Downey having successfully re-edited The Bible into the 138-minute 2014 feature Son of God. “The fact that Christians went to theaters and watched a repackaged version just because they wanted to make a statement is a sign of how desperate they are to see their values affirmed,” says Mark Joseph, a Christian producer and marketing consultant, about Son of God’s $68 million worldwide gross. Last year also saw a pair of fanciful Old Testament movies in Noah and Exodus: Gods and Kings, although their disappointing returns may be indicative of what happens when auteurs tick off the faithful. It remains to be seen whether churchgoers will feel wooed or shooed by an adaptation of Anne Rice’s controversial Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt that’s in postproduction or by the movie about the New Testament’s most celebrated convert, Paul, that’s just been announced with Hugh Jackman, Ben Affleck, and Matt Damon producing. Meanwhile, the redoubtable Burnett and Downey are behind a big-screen Ben-Hur remake that’s currently in production. Looking for a smart investment in 2015? You might want to consider the toga and tunic industries.

A.D. focuses on the apostles’ ministries after Christ’s resurrection and ascension—although you may notice a lot more foot chases, villainy, and bloodletting than the author of the Book of Acts ever transcribed. If the series does get extra-biblical, however, conservative Christians trust Burnett and Downey as two of their own. Last year, in promoting Exodus: Gods and Kings, star Christian Bale described his Moses as “likely schizophrenic.” No worries about any such heresy with this duo at the helm.

Phil Cooke, an evangelical writer and producer of the upcoming Christian-music movie Hillsong: Let Hope Rise, defends the traditionalist approach. “There’s no question that Hollywood is getting the message that the more biblically accurate the movie or TV series, the greater the audience,” he says. “Mark and Roma are proving that. The great challenge is that movie studios and TV networks aren’t Christian organizations. They’re driven by creative people who want to put their own spin on stories.” As a creative professional himself, Cooke understands that impulse, adding, “If I were shooting a classic fairy tale, I would want to bring something new to telling that story. And since many of these filmmakers aren’t believers, they look at these Bible stories the same way I’d look at a fairy tale.”

Author and radio host Eric Metaxas, a celebrated figure in evangelicalism since writing a best-selling biography of German Christian hero Dietrich Bonhoeffer, concurs. “Mark and Roma bring a much-longed-for respect to biblical narratives, one that’s been sorely lacking in recent decades,” he says, adding that exhibiting perceived contempt for your core audience will never fly. “[Martin] Scorsese’s unintentionally hilarious The Last Temptation of Christ, with Willem Dafoe as a mealy-mouthed pseudo-savior, was the first of these fiascoes. A.D. is proving the magnitude of the audience interested in a serious treatment of biblical subjects.” His enthusiasm has been echoed in positive notices from the presidents of the National Religious Broadcasters, Focus on the Family, and the Southern Baptist Convention, among others.

Although Killing Jesus didn’t get nearly the same endorsements, the three-hour drama made a killing (sorry) for National Geographic; with 3.7 million viewers, the premiere boasted the network’s largest audience to date. The big bow came in spite of brickbats from such conservative Christian outlets as Movieguide.com, which warned that the TV movie offered “a Jesus who’s not divine, who performs no miracles, and who’s full of doubt,” before concluding, “We suggest viewers skip watching Killing Jesus and watch A.D. instead.” One person who’s been involved in marketing religious projects to Christians (and prefers not to be identified because nearly everyone in evangelical media circles ends up working together at some point) posits that Bill O’Reilly, an executive producer and coauthor of the source book, “essentially did a secular version of Jesus’s story, and the only reason it didn’t get organized protests is because he’s on Fox News. A lot of Christian viewers like his political views but can’t figure out his faith.”

Getting pegged as the open-minded person’s guide to Christ was fine by Nat Geo, which wanted to play Killing Jesus as religiously nonpartisan. “This is a story that has been told trillions of times,” says Heather Moran, the network’s executive vice president of programming and strategy. “By stripping away what was most familiar to so many, it [became] such a powerful story. That was a very conscious choice of ours, to keep those details open to interpretation so different viewers with different perspectives could come to this historical spine of a story and use it as a jumping-off point for what they personally might bring to the table.” In the end, Killing Jesus split the difference between faith-based and secular audiences—leaving any resurrection off screen but still showing an empty tomb—and for all the publicized emphasis on outside history and scholarship, it took many of its events and dialogue straight from the gospels.

A.D. gave us a majestically backlit warrior-angel rolling away the stone, while the dustier Killing Jesus preferred to let the mystery be. What the two have in common is how they essentially play out as political thrillers, not spiritual reveries. In the days of such Cecil B. DeMille biblical epics as 1949’s Samson and Delilah, the joke (and maybe reality) was that churchgoers ostensibly came for the piety but stuck around for the chance to see sinful temptresses in skimpy outfits. The modern analogy is in how much these new projects make the religious aspects somewhat secondary to the machinations of the bad guys. None has gone quite as far as the musical Jesus Christ Superstar, which had the temerity to bump Judas up to colead. But Pontius Pilate is almost always going to wind up being a more fun character to depict than a Messiah whose most famous cryptic aphorisms aren’t about to get a dialogue polish.

If you’re a Christian tired of seeing the Messiah alternately portrayed as a stiff, saintly victim or (occasionally) tortured neurotic, you might consider the historical taboo on filmic portrayals of Muhammad and develop a slight case of Muslim envy. Back in the CinemaScope era, Christ arguably made a greater impression as a cameo player in Ben-Hur, showing up just long enough to have the hem of his garment touched, than he did in the whole of The Greatest Story Ever Told. So part of the canniness of A.D.—not to get too irreverent about it—is that the series kills off this dramatically risky and unwieldy character before the first commercial break and doesn’t even let Jesus stick around past the second hour, so as not to get in the way of all the bloodshed, Lady Macbeth–style conniving, and disciples-on-the-run
action that make it more of a diverting potboiler than a Sunday-school lesson.

The Old Testament doesn’t present as great a risk in adaptation as do Jesus’s red-letter words. But filmmakers can still run into danger—as demonstrated by Exodus: Gods and Kings director (and Killing Jesus executive producer) Ridley Scott’s divisive decision to portray God as a petulant boy and Darren Aronofsky’s infamous rock monsters in Noah. “In order for a biblical epic to be financially successful, you need the evangelical audience to become engaged,” says Matthew Paul Turner, author of Our Great Big American God and a leading figure in the progressive Christian movement. “But evangelicals are nitpicky about the details of their Bible stories, often carrying the persona of ‘protectors’ of God’s stories. That’s why Noah infuriated many of them, because rather than being able to sit back and enjoy a creative expression loosely based on Genesis, they squirmed at every turn away from how the Bible portrays the Great Flood.” There is a mainline church audience that isn’t hung up on absolute biblical literalism, says Turner, who believes “progressive Christians mostly just want to see a well-told story, one that doesn’t overplay the torture of Jesus for dramatic effect and one in which Jesus isn’t a hot white guy.”

The emphasis on bloodshed in most of these adaptations doesn’t sit well with some mainline Christians—not even when it’s Jesus’s blood. “In journalism, the standard is ‘If it bleeds, it leads,’ and I think it’s the same in these sensationalist film depictions of Christ,” says Rev. Kathy Cooper-Ledesma, pastor of Hollywood United Methodist Church, which has many constituents from the entertainment industry. “They’re all about the substitutionary-atonement theory, focusing on violence and guilt and the belief that God required a blood sacrifice. That’s not the God I believe in at all. The greater story we celebrate is the love of God, but these TV shows don’t consider that dramatic enough.”

And then there are believers who just think other TV shows are better at illustrating the Bible than, say, The Bible. “I’m far more intrigued by the spiritual, ethical, and moral questions raised by Orphan Black or Sons of Anarchy,” says Cathleen Falsani, author of The Dude Abides: The Gospel According to the Coen Brothers, “than I am interested in another film interpretation of a biblical story that may or may not have a hidden religious or political agenda.”

A.D., as it goes along, will inevitably delve more into the realm of pure speculation, as accounts of the disciples’ post-Pentecost lives get harder to divine from the sketchy scriptural narratives. And based on the good will that Burnett and Downey have already built up in conservative Christian circles, they’ll probably get away with making up more of the details. But in one early scene in A.D., before Jesus leaves the building, you get a glimpse of what could have been in a straightforward Christ-tale telling. Jesus, popping up at his followers’ hideout, at first spooks them with his ability to forgo niceties such as entering through doors. And then, with a big grin, he asks, “Is there any food?” That’s a Jesus we could still stand to see more of on screen, even after all these tellings: one who is as in touch with his human side—and not even in a tortured way—as his followers are hungry for divine revelations.

Game of Thrones Returns With Family Feuds, Surprising Alliances, And Dragons!

The death of powerful patriarch Tywin Lannister (Charles Dance) is no laughing matter. But on the Belfast set of Game of Thrones, while shooting a scene in which the ruthless former Hand of the King lies in state, actors Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and Lena Headey—who play his incestuous twin offspring, Jaime and Cersei—are having trouble suppressing giggles.

“They thought it would be really funny to make him laugh, but he’s a fully committed corpse,” says executive producer David Benioff. Kidding around on set is therapeutic: It keeps the cast from getting weighed down by the show’s unrelenting bleakness. But it’s this can’t-look-away mix of heartbreak, family drama, and, of course, gruesome deaths that has earned the fantasy series, based on George R.R. Martin’s bestselling novels, millions of fans worldwide. One of them: the queen of England, who toured the Belfast set last year. “I told her the iron throne was uncomfortable!” Headey says. “It’s slightly terrifying and intimidating to be in the presence of the queen. Then you realize she’s very cool.”

The struggle for that seat of power gets even nastier in Season 5, with more action and elaborate special effects that go well beyond what the show has ever attempted (one sequence alone took 17 days to shoot). And guess what, fans of the novels? Even you won’t know what’s coming next. “We’re not working off the books anymore,” Benioff says, “but off of conversations with George. We’re now adapting the overarching story.”

No matter what direction the drama takes, one thing is for sure: There will be a helluva body count. At the end of Season 4, Tywin sentenced his son Tyrion (Peter Dinklage, who won an Emmy in 2011 for the role) to death for poisoning sadistic teen king Joffrey (Jack Gleeson)—one of Cersei and Jaime’s three illegitimate children, whom they’ve passed off as heirs to her dead husband, King Robert Baratheon (Mark Addy). The innocent Tyrion escaped, thanks to Jaime, and headed directly to Tywin’s chamber, where he promptly slew dear old dad—who was on the loo at the time—then bolted, leaving Cersei screaming for Tyrion’s head.

“Had Jaime known his brother was going to kill Tywin, he wouldn’t have let him go,” Coster-Waldau says. “Apart from the fact that he was their father, Tywin kept enemies from getting any funny ideas. Now it’s dangerous, and Cersei’s not happy with Jaime. They could use some couples therapy.”

Even daily sessions with Dr. Phil couldn’t help this twisted pair, whose twincest set off a chain reaction in Season 1 when young Bran Stark (Isaac Hempstead-Wright), the son of the noble family that the Lannisters have all but destroyed, accidentally stumbled onto the couple having sex. Jaime pushed the child out a window to keep him quiet, paralyzing him. And it’s been war, literally, ever since.

The endless conflict has toughened Cersei and battered Jaime. Once the kingdom’s greatest knight, fiercest fighter, and biggest egomaniac, he’s grown more reflective after being taken prisoner and having his sword hand cruelly chopped off. Worse, Cersei hasn’t been faithful. “Cersei’s always steering. Jaime’s purer in his love,” Headey says. “Last season, they slowly regained their passion. But now they’re in the worst place they’ve been in their relationship in terms of trust.”

“Jaime’s responsible for Tywin’s death, so [in his eyes] he’s also responsible for Cersei’s pain,” Coster-Waldau says. “He feels he has to prove something to Cersei—as well as to himself. He wants to do the right thing.” For that to happen, he must embark on a risky secret mission to retrieve their teenage daughter, Myrcella (Nell Tiger Free).

Dorne: A New Land and New Dangers for Jaime Lannister
Soon after Season 5 begins, Jaime is en route to the region of Dorne accompanied by mercenary-turned-knight Bronn (Jerome Flynn), who calls their destination a place people visit only for sex and sword fighting.

To capture this sunny land of anything goes, producers headed to Spain for the first time. (They also shot in Ireland and Croatia.) Standing in for Dorne’s castle and water gardens was Seville’s royal palace of Alcázar, where the show was given access to areas previously off limits. (The series is so popular in Spain that producers received 86,000 applications for 600 jobs as extras.)

Filming in the elaborate Moorish-style palace helped Coster-Waldau fully immerse himself in his character’s journey. “There’s a richness to being in a place instead of using CGI,” he says. “You feel the history.” Jaime will also feel the wrath of Ellaria Sand (Indira Varma). She blames the Lannisters for the murder of her lover, Oberyn Martell (Pedro Pascal), who was killed during an eye-popping duel in King’s Landing last season. Hell-bent on vengeance, she is willing to fight to the death with help from Oberyn’s warrior daughters, the Sand Snakes: Obara (Keisha Castle-Hughes), Nymeria (Jessica Henwick), and Tyene (Rosabell Laurenti Sellers). But Jaime has a new trick up his sleeve. “Instead of looking at his golden hand as a hindrance, he starts to see it as a weapon,” Coster-Waldau says.

King’s Landing: Cersei Struggles
With Jaime away, the always-conniving Cersei maneuvers to stay in power in King’s Landing after her young son Tommen (Dean-Charles Chapman) is crowned and promised to Joffrey’s ex Margaery Tyrell (Natalie Dormer). “This season has been the most exciting for me in terms of acting,” Headey says. “It’s the start of everything falling away from Cersei. Her belief in her own competence, strength, and ability to fool everybody and play the game bites her in the ass. She makes questionable choices, believing it will add to her status and control.”

One choice is to ally with a new character, the High Sparrow (Jonathan Pryce), a man of faith. “Their relationship is important,” Benioff says, “because Cersei realizes she can use him and religion for her own purposes.”

As the season progresses, Cersei takes on a shocking new appearance. “It was a great change from looking polished,” Headey says. “The latter half of the season is tough. Cersei’s broken down by the end.”

The Wall: Can Jon Snow Protect the Kingdom and Himself?
Jon Snow (Kit Harington), Ned Stark’s noble bastard son—who led the meager Night’s Watch forces to defend the Wall from hordes of Wildlings in a spectacular Season 4 battle that killed the love of his life, Ygritte (Rose Leslie)—must delve into politics, which can prove deadlier than fighting axe-wielding giants. “Ned disliked politics but was drawn into it,” Benioff says. “That’s what happens to Jon this season.”

His biggest political move: deciding whether he will side with Wildling King Beyond the Wall Mance Rayder (Ciarán Hinds) or Stannis Baratheon (Stephen Dillane), who considers himself the true king of Westeros. Stannis arrived at the Wall with his massive army last season and took Mance prisoner. “Jon’s come to respect the Wildlings and likes Mance,” Benioff says. “That complicates things.”

So it’s a good thing Jon is finally taking charge. “He doesn’t want to be ordered around,” Harington says. “He starts making decisions and doing things his way.” Adds executive producer D.B. Weiss, “Question of the day: How do you do all this without getting your head chopped off?”

Jon will have to remain extra sharp as he marches into battle again at a village called Hardhome. The skirmish was the season’s most grueling shoot for Harington, with 13-hour workdays and tricky fight choreography. “The stunt work this year was quite daunting and intricate,” Harington says. “I had to step aside a few more times [than usual] for stunt doubles. It was dangerous.”

The sequence’s special effects didn’t come cheap. Game of Thrones reportedly cost at least $8 million per episode this season—money well spent, according to Michael Lombardo, HBO’s president of programming. “The needs of the storytelling drive the budget,” he says. “This show opened my eyes to what quality TV needs to look like. I’m not a genre or sci-fi geek, but I’m a geek for great writing.”

The Vale: Sansa Goes to the Dark Side
The writing takes a daring turn this year when the tale of Jon’s half sister, Sansa Stark (Sophie Turner), goes beyond what happens in Martin’s books. Last season, the once-timid girl, who had been married off to Tyrion, escaped King’s Landing with the help of Westeros’s own Frank Underwood, political operator Petyr Baelish, aka Littlefinger (Aidan Gillen). The unlikely duo took refuge in her Aunt Lysa’s (Kate Dickie) home in the Vale of Arryn. Along the way, Sansa learned Littlefinger had helped orchestrate Joffrey’s death. Her middle-aged guardian planted a creepy kiss on her and later killed Lysa to save Sansa’s life. By the season finale, Sansa had transformed into a raven-haired, black-clad strategist prepared to play the game and help Littlefinger in his master plan to control the kingdom.

“She’s been an observer of tragedy her whole life,” Weiss says. “Everything she’s seen has been a horrible, teachable moment. And now she’s ready to unleash what she’s learned.”

Essos: Across the Sea, Strangers Meet
At the end of Season 4, both Sansa’s sister Arya (Maisie Williams) and Tyrion were sailing east across the sea. “They are on separate journeys,” Benioff says. “But these storylines start to converge.”

They are traveling to Essos, a sprawling continent that includes the Free Cities and Slaver’s Bay, where mother of dragons Daenerys Targaryen (Emilia Clarke) has recently abolished slavery and struggles to control the city of Meereen.

Arya, still determined to avenge the Stark family, arrives in the free city of Braavos. There, the tough teen gets a new look and begins a fresh phase of her education. “The people there are very mysterious and philosophical,” Benioff says. “She learns there are different skills to develop beyond sword fighting,” Weiss adds.

Tyrion arrives in port far less hopeful. Spymaster Varys (Conleth Hill) has smuggled him over the sea in a crate. When Tyrion emerges, “He’s not the wise-cracking, ironically distant cynic he’s been,” Weiss says. “He’s a broken human being.”

That’s understandable, considering he’s murdered not only his father but also his former lover Shae (Sibel Kekilli). “He’s never really going to recover,” Benioff says. “He’s just trying to find something to keep him putting one foot in front of the other.”

Varys attempts to motivate Tyrion by asking him to help in his mission to put a new ruler on the iron throne, someone who will finally bring peace and stability to the kingdom. Varys won’t say exactly who he has in mind, but he makes it clear it’s not a man.

Daenerys may be that woman—but if so, is she ready to rule? “She’s learning,” Clarke says. “She realizes she was naive to think that freeing the slaves would bring happiness all around.”

She’s a fair, revolutionary ruler, and still some of her subjects want her dead, so she must make savvy decisions to stay alive. With her adviser, Ser Jorah (Iain Glen), exiled for spying, “She listens to her own advice—and makes mistakes,” Clarke says. Luckily, she has a supportive, if scaly, family. “The dragons are testing her parenting skills to their limits. But she realizes she can harness their power for the greater good. It may not be good in the moment, but it will be good afterward,” Clarke hints.

Good? On Game of Thrones? Before you get too excited, heed these words from Benioff: “In Season 5, you should be worried about everybody.”

Game of Thrones returns Sunday, April 12, 9/8c, HBO.