When I watched Riverdale Season 1, I loved it. This sizzling and sinister town of Riverdale was full of shocks and surprises. Ms. Grundy is a seductive music teacher. Mr. Lodge is a mobster. Jughead and Betty become a couple. The parents, specially, the senior Mr. Jones, are exceptionally good looking. To top it all FP Jones is a South Side Serpent. Haven’t heard of them before, even though you are a die-hard Archie comic fan? Read this to find out more – https://screenrant.com/riverdale-south-side-serpents-comics-differences/

Then there is Archie Andrews. The klutz. A lanky, freckled, red-haired teenager from the comic book universe. Here, when he opened his t-shirt and revealed those sweat-drenched muscles, I was hooked. Don’t get me wrong, am still a bigger fan of the smouldering Joneses, son and father, both. But the physique twist in the familiar Archie Andrews was jaw-dropping.

Plus, who had imagined a reimagining of Riverdale where Archie Andrews wrote soulful poetry? Archie is a lead singer in a band, in the comics, so he must be writing the songs, but growing up, I never thought of him as a sensitive Archie sprouting ballads. That’s creative!

Season 1 murdered off Jason Blossom ( was there really a twin brother for Cheryl in the comics? ). The entire town was under suspicion. Writer, loner, beanie-wearing smouldering Jughead Jones was sleuthing with a darker Betty Cooper. Entertaining.

Serial killer in Season 2. Not as much fun, partly due to vengeance-seeking hyper Archie, but not bad as a whole. Svenson was not just a filler character but had a backstory of his own. And the girl next door was not all sunshine and smiles. Just like none of us, next door folks, truly ever are. Of course, we don’t end up living in a house with a serial killer. Well, thank god for small mercies. For such extraordinary things only happen in CW’s Riverdale.

Let’s get to Season 3. Disappointing. Meandering. Too many storylines and when they converge there is no cohesion.

First mess and the biggest – Archie Andrews.

Take the klutz and increase stupidity tenfold. You get Archie who first tried to lead a gang of boys, gets caught up in the glitz and glamour of his rich girlfriend’s dad and surrenders himself on a charge of murder. Then ends up escaping juvenile prison.

We know (and have sufficiently drooled) over the actor’s gorgeously carved muscle, do we need to have Archie turn boxer and ditch that t-shirt every scene?

Boxer. Unplausible. And just as bad is Veronica’s constant grudge with daddy dearest. For god’s sake, how old are these people? Can a girl, even if she is Veronica Lodge, own and run a gambling joint cum night club under Pops?

The Farm storyline starts off with promise in which Betty gets caught up. Griffin and Gargoyle role-playing game is spooky as well, where dearest Jughead gets caught up, who tries hard to remain sane through an insane season, and not a good one at that. Veronica with her one-track mind running a nightclub. And Archie caught up in stuff that in no way contributes to the storyline.

Mr. Jones disappeared for episodes. So did Mr. Andrews. The Farm for some crazy reason was actually a fraud. Big surprise there. And the villains were folks we knew of. Even bigger surprise there. Minimal romance and even less twists.

Long story short, the only reason to watch Season 4 is if they promise to bring in FP Jones in every episode along with his writer foodie son. In addition, if Archie swears to hold on to his t-shirt for more than a couple of scenes in a row.