[7.6/10] Time to let any kind soul who actually reads these things in on a little bit of how the sausage gets made. I tend to write any show up within about 24 hours of watching it. For shows that my family and I are semi-binging, it may be as little as ten minutes between finishing the episode and writing it up.
That means it becomes harder to process things, to connect the dots between different parts of a show as rich and dense as The Americans. But if I had to say what I thought “Divestment” was about, it would be second chances. The young man who might have done some false flag terrorism to discredit the anti-apartheid movement is set free over the South African freedom fighter’s objections. Nina is granted the opportunity to wipe away her sentence if she “gets in the head” of the reluctant scientist we met previously, and is put face-to-face with the last man whose head she got into. And most importantly, Martha figures out that “Clark” isn’t who he said he was, but seems to stand by him anyway.
It’s the latter storyline that’s the most interesting. I’ll admit, I didn’t put it together in the last episode that Martha’s doubts aren’t just because Clark’s stunt put her in harm’s way; it’s because Walter Taffet’s mere presence as an investigating agent from OPR monitoring the bureau indicates that Clark isn’t that guy. Martha’s “he’s you” response and confrontation to her husband is one of the most loaded moments in the episode, and it’s one that shows the threat of everything falling apart before there’s hope of any other option.
There’s a lot in this episode to suggest how bad things might get, and that as a motivator for people to do their best work, or their most desperate work, to avoid it. The most striking image in an episode with good and careful cinematography is Ventnor (I think?) being burned alive by the man whose movement he threatens. It is a moment of harsh brutality, treated with some delicateness, but which ultimately forces the audience to watch and contend with a human being who is disposed of in one of the most painful ways imaginable.
And yet, the silver lining to such harshness is that it’s an argument for Philip, and eventually Elizabeth, that the kid they kidnapped deserves a second chance. Having witnessed his confederate’s fate, the kid tells Elizabeth where the bomb he was going to use for the false flag terrorism is. He’s clearly shaken, disturbed, willing to give up anything or do anything to avoid that fate. It’s enough for the two of them to decide that he’s been scared straight, to gain the acquiescence of the South African freedom fighter that they should let him go.
NIna’s struggling to prove that she’s worthy of her freedom as well. The betrayal of her roommate, the thing that was supposed to spare her from a lifetime of solitude and imprisonment, only reduces her sentence to ten years. She’s always hard to read as a character, but you definitely get the sense of “is that all there is?” So much sacrificed, another piece of her soul blackened, and it didn’t even get her out of this hell hole.
But it does get her in another hell hole, where she’s implicitly tasked with sleeping with the kidnapped scientist and to earn his trust, so as to discern whether he’s merely faltering in a difficult task or intentionally sabotaging the Russians’ efforts. We mostly get teases of the begginings of this, where the scientist is resistant, and her old boss says he will be professional but will never forgive her. Still, it is the start of something, however tenuous the promised reward feels to the viewer -- the start of a chance for Nina to pull herself out of the whole that’s been dug for her.
Apart from those chances, there’s some dribs and drabs of developments that loosely tie into that theme, but which feel more separate and apart from the bigger storylines. For one, Oleg’s father calls his boss and insists that he be transferred to Moscow. There’s the sense that Oleg’s had many chances, but that he wants to make the most of this one, convincing his superior that whatever influence Oleg’s dad wields, there’s something they can accomplish here that’s worth more than what it costs to stall.
At the same time, Paige is researching Gregory, trying to understand her parents better by understanding their compatriot better. It’s an interesting subplot, if only because it leads to questions and conversations about how life is complicated. People can make mistakes, or do things that don’t fit neatly on a good/bad scale, and still be worthy of understanding and appreciation. That’s a dangerous concept in a world that feels increasingly binary, but a worthy one, especially from a parent to a child.
That just leaves the second half of Philip’s conversation with Martha. When confronted with her epiphany that she knows he’s lying to her, and her demand that he not lie to her anymore, “Clark” doesn't reveal his real name, or his real job, or his real life. Instead, he resorts to the basics: that he loves Martha, that their life and love are real, that he would do anything to protect her.
The scene is honestly a little frightening, if only because Matthew Rhys is such a good actor, and by extension so is Philip Jennings, that you almost want to believe him, even though we know that he’s lying. He is doing everything he can to hold this together, to earn a second chance in his fake marriage, and it’s all founded on lie after lie after lie. He is, like the kid witnessing his ally being burned alive, willing to do anything it takes to hold what he has together, knowing the fate that lies in the alternative.
But sometimes you have to think on your feet, whether you’re trying to preserve a sham marriage that’s a vital part of your espionage operation, or just trying to write up a complex show and display some mark of understanding about what it’s trying to do. In both instances, it’s easy to fall back on the basics, elemental things that are compelling at an almost instinctual level. Still, it remains to be seen whether that’s enough to make those chances real, or just something we reach and hope for.
Poor Martha, I feel so bad for her.
Somehow I always feel sorry for Martha.
TIL "kafir" is the N-word of South Africa.
Shout by GabrielleBlockedParent2016-04-21T04:10:18Z
Oh Martha, Martha, Martha Martha. I feel so sorry for her. Her life is a mess right now.