I think the entire cast of this episode deserves the highest accolades for turning in such beautifully measured performances, and of course none more so than our hero, Josh Thomas. This not-quite-half-hour was gripping in a way that kept the Earth from spinning while you watched it, and it's hard to imagine a more perfect portrayal of the shock of an unforeseen loss of this magnitude. That initial phone call to Tom was so authentic on both ends…it broke me wide open and I stayed that way clear through to the closing credits. Director Matthew Saville has been with us the whole way on this journey and we've had glimpses before that he could really draw the magic out of this cast when given the right material (Arnold singing Chandelier in the kitchen to Alan, with stage direction from Josh and accompaniment from Tom comes quickly to mind, for one), but I was properly taken aback by him here.
The most natural and common sin with a story like this is too end up leaning into the material too hard, trying to give grief the face it deserves, as it were. But in fact, this is what grief looks like when it's fresh, at least the sudden kind. Your chest moves up and down so you look like you're breathing and you keep moving about, but really you're frozen in place and drowning almost the entire time, only coming up for air a moment at a time, and spending the rest just wishing you could spare enough air to be able to scream. Even those close to Josh felt like the perfect archetypes of those who love you enough to travel that road with you: 1. The one whose heart breaks along with yours, willing to do anything you ask and a few of the things you could never bring yourself too, but whose sympathy compels them to comfort you in ways that you can't bear. (Tom) 2. The one who desperately fights to stay grounded lest they fracture into a billion tiny pieces and float away in the wind, turning them into a veteran Red Cross medic of a thousand engagements, wading waist-deep into the horror and trying to triage everything they encounter. (Alan) 3. The other one whose heart breaks along with yours, but their self-involvement or sense of guilt makes them act like the horror was meant just for them in the most insufferable ways. God bless them, though, because really soon you're going to need someone to hate on at a distance, with a fierceness no one could ever deserve and they generally fit the bill oh-so-nicely by then. (Hannah) 4. The wise one, the one with the presence of mind to know that no matter how gutted they are, you're living inside a massacre several orders of magnitude larger in scope, and they tell you precisely that before you're able to find the words yourself. By its nature their part in the world's shittiest pageant is often the smallest and yet still the most vital and precious; I think maybe the best writing choice of all was how true they stuck to this here. (Claire)
Despite the real tears and vicarious heartbreak that was visited on me by this episode, I will always be grateful for how tight the focus it offered was into this dynamic. If we ever get the wild notion to launch another artifact out into space like the golden phonograph record that was placed inside Voyager 2, I think I'd nominate a copy of this episode instead. If some other species is to get its first glimpse into the existence of humanity, I'd rather they see us for who we really are, and baby…it don't get anymore real than this.
Review by Peter J. MelloVIP 8BlockedParent2023-09-22T04:01:44Z
I think the entire cast of this episode deserves the highest accolades for turning in such beautifully measured performances, and of course none more so than our hero, Josh Thomas. This not-quite-half-hour was gripping in a way that kept the Earth from spinning while you watched it, and it's hard to imagine a more perfect portrayal of the shock of an unforeseen loss of this magnitude. That initial phone call to Tom was so authentic on both ends…it broke me wide open and I stayed that way clear through to the closing credits. Director Matthew Saville has been with us the whole way on this journey and we've had glimpses before that he could really draw the magic out of this cast when given the right material (Arnold singing Chandelier in the kitchen to Alan, with stage direction from Josh and accompaniment from Tom comes quickly to mind, for one), but I was properly taken aback by him here.
The most natural and common sin with a story like this is too end up leaning into the material too hard, trying to give grief the face it deserves, as it were. But in fact, this is what grief looks like when it's fresh, at least the sudden kind. Your chest moves up and down so you look like you're breathing and you keep moving about, but really you're frozen in place and drowning almost the entire time, only coming up for air a moment at a time, and spending the rest just wishing you could spare enough air to be able to scream. Even those close to Josh felt like the perfect archetypes of those who love you enough to travel that road with you:
1. The one whose heart breaks along with yours, willing to do anything you ask and a few of the things you could never bring yourself too, but whose sympathy compels them to comfort you in ways that you can't bear. (Tom)
2. The one who desperately fights to stay grounded lest they fracture into a billion tiny pieces and float away in the wind, turning them into a veteran Red Cross medic of a thousand engagements, wading waist-deep into the horror and trying to triage everything they encounter. (Alan)
3. The other one whose heart breaks along with yours, but their self-involvement or sense of guilt makes them act like the horror was meant just for them in the most insufferable ways. God bless them, though, because really soon you're going to need someone to hate on at a distance, with a fierceness no one could ever deserve and they generally fit the bill oh-so-nicely by then. (Hannah)
4. The wise one, the one with the presence of mind to know that no matter how gutted they are, you're living inside a massacre several orders of magnitude larger in scope, and they tell you precisely that before you're able to find the words yourself. By its nature their part in the world's shittiest pageant is often the smallest and yet still the most vital and precious; I think maybe the best writing choice of all was how true they stuck to this here. (Claire)
Despite the real tears and vicarious heartbreak that was visited on me by this episode, I will always be grateful for how tight the focus it offered was into this dynamic. If we ever get the wild notion to launch another artifact out into space like the golden phonograph record that was placed inside Voyager 2, I think I'd nominate a copy of this episode instead. If some other species is to get its first glimpse into the existence of humanity, I'd rather they see us for who we really are, and baby…it don't get anymore real than this.