6x16 Last Day on Earth

6.5/10. One of the interesting things about The Walking Dead under showrunner Scott Gimple's influence is that it has, more or less, eschewed the traditional narrative structure for a season of television. The prison/Governor storyline seemed to be building to a climax at the end of Season 3, but then didn't really end until several episodes into Season 4. Then, the show embarked on a wandering in the wilderness/Terminus storyline that stretched from roughly the midpoint of Season 4 until the beginning of the Alexandria storyline in Season 5. That storyline, about our heroes discovering an integrating into Alexandria, reached its natural conclusion with this year's mid-season premiere where the town came together to defeat the zombies at the gates.

Which is to say that we're not at the end or the beginning of the Negan storyline; we're in the middle. That's admittedly a little strange. It's different from the annual Big Bad structure that Buffy the Vampire Slayer established, or even the trend toward the real fireworks happening in the penultimate episode with the season finale reserved for aftermath or reflection employed by The Wire and The Sopranos.

It means that season finales have to feature big moments, but cannot be the climax of the story. It means that season premieres have to be remind the audience where the story left off rather than starting at the beginning. But truth be told, I kind of like it, or at least admire it. It's unorthodox and just a hint avant garde, and in a show that can struggle to distinguish itself despite its big ratings, that structure gives it unique storytelling rhythms that help the show to stand out.

Which is why, perhaps, I'm not particularly bothered by the "Who Shot J.R.?" (or, for my generation, "Who Shot Mr. Burns?") quality of the cliffhanger. Sure, it's a cheap way to add intrigue to a season premiere that won't happen until six or seven months from now, but it is, narratively speaking--just a bump in the road. I won't deny that there's something kind of silly about it, especially the POV-shot that makes me feel like I just lost a multiplayer game of Goldeneye, but it's just another death on a show that's rife with them. Maybe it'll be a major character. Maybe it'll be equivalent of the random racist lady in "S.O.B.s" from Arrested Development. Either way, I can stand to wait.

I understand the frustration though. From the fakeout with Glenn earlier in the season to last week's awkwardly pasted-in non-fakeout with Daryl, this show hasn't been very good about teasing the audience with this kind of stuff. You can only place your significant characters in peril and show them escaping largely unscathed before each new danger starts to lack any real stakes. But to that end, the success of the cliffhanger hinges much more on whether the show kills off a major character or whether we lose someone like Aaron instead, than on the somewhat corny mechanism The Walking Dead uses to get there.

I've said before that I often like what TWD is trying to do more than what it actually does, and "The Last Day on Earth" is no exception. It is, in some ways, intended as an antidote to the complaints that our heroes are bulletproof. Rick seems to vocalize this perspective when tells Maggie that they've all made it this far, and that they can find their way out of any bad situation. There's a quiet arrogance to the idea, present in the group's negotiations with the Hilltop, that there's nothing they can't handle. There's a sense that Rick feels as though they've tamed this wild land, that however hairy things may get, and however rocky the road to get there was, his people know what they're doing and can handle it. They've won. All there is to do now is protect what they have and plan for the future.

And then they hit roadblock after roadblock. Each time the roadblock has more soldiers, more guns, more horrors waiting for them. And each time, Rick has a plan, and surely his scrappy band of survivors can find a way out outwit or outmuscle or outmaneuver these ruffians! After all, they always find a way out. It's just what they do. Those Saviors don't know who they're screwing with, right Rick?

Slowly but surely, the episode reveals that they do, in fact, know exactly who they're screwing with it. And they're better prepared, and better organized, and better armed. For once, Rick's band of merry men, the same ones who sold the Hilltop on their combat abilities, who decimated the Savior compound by superior planning and skill, have run into some folks who do exactly what they do, and do it better. I like the hopelessness, the sense of being overmatched, that the narrative imparts on that front. It creates a sense that we may actually lose someone important in that final destination, that there may be a real cost to whatever the next step is. There's a "can't go over it; can't go under it; gotta go through it" atmosphere in place for our heroes for what feels like the first time, and that's interesting and different.

The episode even doubles down on this idea with the tearful farewell for Eugene. It has all the trademarks of a classic Walking Dead plot, where one character makes the sacrifice so that the others can go on unscathed and live to fight another day. "The Last Day on Earth" sells the hell out of it, with everyone saying their goodbyes, the bullet recipe, and Eugene's smile as drives alone up the road signifying the end point of his character's arc toward competence and redemption. It's an easy way to suggest Rick and The Alexandrians outsmarting their pursuers, and it would fit as the culmination of Eugene's journey.

Instead, that little narrative trick, employed in one form for another many many times on the show, fails miserably. Eugene is captured; the rest of the group is captured afterward; and it turns out they already had Daryl, Rosita, Michonne, and Glenn locked up in a van the whole time. The Saviors were always two steps ahead, and for once, with all of heroes assembled, they're at a clear and distinct disadvantage with an enemy who's demonstrated they're capable rather than just crazy.

That's a great idea. It just doesn't work very well in practice. Much of the traps set for Rick & Co. are fairly implausible, even if they make for cool visuals, a recurring theme for the show. Rick's attempt to trade threats with Negan's Lieutenant at the first "checkpoint" had an awkward quality to it that made it feel reminiscent of Homer Simpson's argument with George Bush Sr. about who wanted "trouble." The episode didn't quite impart that sense of foreboding it was clearly shooting for, with the awkward pacing and lack of real attention permeating the episode right up until the Eugene feint. And, as is very frequently the case on The Walking Dead, especially in a season finale, several characters offer action movie one-liners, or grand on-the-nose statements that loudly call out themes the series has been playing around with this season.

That extends to the Carol/Morgan storyline, the part of the episode that features the only two major characters not caught in Negan's whistle-worthy trap. The slow burn of Carol struggling with the weight of her killing has been one of my favorite parts of Season 6, even if there have been several hiccups along the way. But we didn't need to have her repeat that you don't get to choose, the world gets to choose. We didn't need her begging for death to understand that she was hurting and wanted a way out. We didn't need any number of other bluntly-employed scenes or devices to shake the audience and yell at them "Carol is not okay right now and here's why!" As always, Melissa McBride puts in a good performance, but the material doesn't live up to it.

And despite that, I have hope for the story going forward. Morgan shooting someone to prove that even he will take a life if it's the only way to save another one is more than a bit contrived as a turning point for Carol's road to recovery. But I appreciate the way the show put the two of them together here. Morgan's sequestering himself with a recalcitrant Carol who thinks the world has nothing for her was a nice parallel to his own circumstances with Eastman in the episode that introduced Morgan's new circumstances and philosophy. That philosophy has filtered through to Carol and led her to a state of misery. But Morgan is here to get to the other half of it, a half that The Walking Dead is all too miserly with -- healing.

Morgan's episode was one of the few times the show has depicted someone healing from the pain and misery of this new world. It wasn't just death as redemption; it wasn't just a miraculous realization leading to someone becoming a better person; it was the story of how one man found his way back from the edge of despair, little by little. It's one of the reasons I've never had a problem with Morgan's pacifism on the show, despite the obvious problems with that philosophy in the state of nature he lives in. It was never meant to be a practical philosophy here; it was meant to be a way for Morgan to cope with the loss of his wife and son. In that, it succeeds, and with any luck, he can continue Eastman's work and help Carol find some peace as well.

But peace doesn't seem to be on deck for the rest of the group. If there's one thing to say in favor of "Last Day on Earth", it's that Jeffrey Dean Morgan lives up to the big introduction Negan has received over the course of the season. He chews the scenery, and adds a malevolent charm that makes him feel like everything The Governor was intended to be but never quite achieved. His monologue devolved into a few cliches--this is still The Walking Dead after all--but he was an absolutely commanding and mesmerizing presence in the scene, and lived up to his billing, which is no small feat given how much this character has been built up to over the course of the season.

And yet his presence crescendos in an act meant to exemplify the very obvious theme of the episode -- that in this world, your life can end in a second, and just when you think you have it figured out, when you think you're safe and can start planning and building, death can still strike, random chance can still deal you a losing hand, and your entire world can be turned upside down. It's an idea that The Sopranos played around with in a much more subtle, artful fashion. But that's The Walking Dead in a nutshell -- taking its cues from the best of prestige television, trying to infuse the show with big themes and mediations on serious issues, and losing the plot in cornball dialogue, puzzling story directions, and the occasional stunt that leaves the fanbase gnashing its teeth.

So we enter another interregnum between seasons, wondering who lives and who dies, who rises to the occasion and who falters, and how our heroes will save the day this time. Because, once again, we're in the middle of the story. It's a story about Rick & Co. kicking the hornet's nest that is The Saviors, but also of the show itself. The Walking Dead is a series where we're perpetually in the middle, always wondering when it will trust its audience to understand the points it's trying to make without having its characters scream them at us, when it will string together a nice streak of quality episodes rather than a persistent sense of "two steps forward and one step back," when it will be more than just impressive production and zombie kills with a patina of profundity behind them, and when it will stop being a pretty good show and start becoming a great one. As the show concludes its sixth season, a point where some of the best series in television ended their runs, it becomes apparent that we'll be waiting forever, that this is simply what the show is, and all it is -- an endless parade of middles.

I suppose I'll be back in the fall then, complaining about such small portions.

Most of the episode was pointlessly dragging. There was no need to make the finale longer. The ending was good for the most part, tense as fuck. But all that build up amounted to nothing. They actually didn't show us who Negan chose (the actor did a decent job with the character I thought) and now we'll have to wait a year. By the lack of recognisable screams and interference I bet it's someone not from the main crew. Also because they made it into a mystery. They expect people to freak about their beloved characters being dead and to keep up a long guessing game till we all fucking forget about this shit and won't even care when they pick this up and kill someone irrelevant and insignificant in the season 7 opening. Mark my words. But if they won't pussy out and it's a main character, it's probably Daryl. He won't scream and won't beg, and the closest person to him there is probably Rick and he looks completely numb and out of it, hence no active protesting. You'd think Daryl would avert the bat and at least try to fight, but he's injured and the writing on Walking dead is often irrational, so. It works. Didn't really care about the Carol/Morgan shit. Carol needs to get her shit together. And I've predicted Morgan killing again as soon as Rick gave him a gun. I'm not into this swap of the characters roles they have going on.