Welcome to BANSHEE, the most tasteless place on television.

There’s never been much buzz about Banshee, Cinemax’s action crime thriller that plays like a scuzzy B-movie version of Justified.

Banshee’s flown under the radar since its premiered in 2013, and there are very few weekly reviews and think-pieces being written about the series. It’s understandable why. I myself stopped watching Banshee after three episodes back when it began, and only returned because I chanced upon an extremely positive review of the third season. I gave it another shot, gritted my teeth through some of the earlier instalments, and was compelled enough to binge 30 episodes, just so I could watch the fourth and final season with everyone else.

Banshee is a difficult show to wholeheartedly champion, because it’s often very troubling and inappropriate. I always feel like it’s a fundamentally bad show, but one so committed to its tastelessness and gleeful in its depravities that the caveman part of my brain can’t get enough.

It also has a juicy hook that feels lifted from a 1970s grindhouse movie. A jewel thief (Antony Starr) is released from prison having served 15-years for a mobster known as ‘Rabbit’, and circumstances lead him to assume the identity of Lucas Hood — the new Sheriff of the titular Philadelphia town. Suddenly elevated to a position of trust and authority, the felonious ‘Hood’ brings his unique set of skills to this surprisingly anarchic community — all whilst trying to rekindle a relationship with fellow thief-in-hiding Anastasia (Ivana Miličević).

Since the pilot’s setup, a lot has happened, and the currently-airing fourth season has introduced significant changes. We’ve jumped forward in time by two years, so Hood’s now retired from law enforcement and retreated into the woods after his best-friend Jobe (Hoon Lee) was kidnapped during season 3’s finale. Brock (Matt Servitto) has been promoted to Sheriff, but is under the thumb of crime lord Proctor (Ulrich Thomsen), who’s since won an election to become Banshee’s mayor. I know, it’s silly.

Those are huge changes that have been forced upon fans, as previous seasons merrily picked up the baton and ran with it. And it’s a shame Banshee has dropped the integral idea of a criminal impersonating a lawman, because Hood is now just one of many shady characters. But perhaps the biggest difference between season 4 and what came before is how the storyline concerns the hunt for a nasty serial killer (who likes to remove young women’s hearts while they’re alive but paralysed with drugs), which puts it into Dexter territory in some respects.

There are also lots of flashbacks to events from the years we’ve skipped, which are helping us piece together related mysteries — mainly concerning Proctor’s sexy niece Rebecca (Lili Simmons), who’s become the town’s ‘Laura Palmer’, drawing attention to the presence of a ritualistic psychopath. As the premiere opens with Rebecca pushing up daisies, I assumed Simmons wanted out of her contract a year early, but because of the aforementioned flashbacks the actress has had more to do this than ever before!

Is adding a Satanic serial killer to the rogue’s gallery of Banshee a step too far? I don’t really think so, because this show has always been a vicious and ridiculous carnival of human monsters — from gangsters and assassins, to neo-Nazi skinheads and murderous Native Americans.

Whenever you stop to apply any kind of real world logic to things, the entire show crumbles to dust. It’s a dark and twisted fantasy aimed at a young male audience, who prefer each episode contains at least three moments of raw ultra-violence— and this season’s been particularly strong in that respect.

You almost get the feeling episodes are built around a sadistic desire to show physical pain. If you’ve been appalled by some of the grossness in Dexter or Game of Thrones in the past, Banshee’s on a whole other level — but, crucially, it’s full of characters you care much less about.

The key players have only a saucer of depth, but even that’s informed by how much pain and suffering they’ve gone through. For instance, super hacker Jobe is eventually freed from captivity after suffering months of physical and psychological torture, and Hoon Lee’s done commendable work portraying PTSD. It works in particular because Jobe’s usually such a flamboyant motormouth, but suddenly he’s a nervous wreck.

We’re five episodes deep into Banshee’s final run, with three left in the barrel. I’m enjoying this crazier season, despite having to swallow a few changes that have overturned the concept… but I’m also glad it’s the last run. Banshee doesn’t have the narrative complexities or fleshed-out characters to keep going, so it’s wise to end things earlier than perhaps originally planned.

Certainly the fact Banshee hasn’t connected with big audiences is a sign the producers weighted things too heavily towards chasing bloodthirsty thrills and shocks. Although one has to concede Banshee contains some of the most impressive fight scenes on television, often putting more expensive shows to shame. It does what it does, for a niche audience that demands little more, and it’s hard to knock Banshee for that. It’s been a success on its own terms.

I just hope the last batch of episodes are good, and we’ll get some closure to Hood’s storyline — as his real backstory has only slipped a few times, to characters who are now dead.

At the very least I want to know what Lucas Hood’s real name is, please…

Banshee — 10pm Fridays, Cinemax.