He's back ! Vader enters the picture and immediately the heat is literally turned up. One shot, one breath of him has more weight as ten minutes from the Third Sister.
I had not imagined that him and Obi-Wan would meet that early. And now we have the question of continuity. There has to be another meeting because that one could not have been what Vader was describing in Ep IV (with Obi-Wan being the Master and he the apprentice). Yes, those things matter to me. But as one-sided as the duel here was it had me on the edge of my seat. The lightsabers in the dark, the musical score, Vaders voice - that was an amazing sequence.
How on earth did Reva get past Leia ? There is one tunnel leading to where the pilot was waiting and she had to pass Leia to get there first. Yet she was there waiting, the pilot already dead.
All in all by far the best episode. Obi-Wan talking about Padme and his memories of his own family was another great scene.
Now I'm hyped.
As Cosmonaut Marcus writes, "It was whatever."
There are some important messages but no revelations, lessons or challenges. Falcon just hears Bradley say, "don't do it", and does it and does fine, because...? So he had self-doubt, hears more doubt from someone else, but does it anyway?
SCORE 5/10
I enjoyed this episode but I learnt something about TV shows these days.
It's ok to mess with a guy, tell him he's a bad dad for not being around and making him love a kid thinking it's his... Then tell him it's not his and it's all ok.
It's ok to force a guy to unwillingly have sex with you so he cheats on his girl.
All these things happened and it's ok because it was women who did it.
But, dare to misgender someone and you're evil
Yes, Elliot Page transitioned, but after his coming out he said he'll continue to play Vanya.
Don't understand the need to have Vanya transition too. It does nothing for the story and it was completely half-assed. Short hair and a new name. That's it? Come on.
This was basically a sequence of illogicality in terms of character placement.
How is the Third Sister faster than Leia who was on her way much longer. Even if she took the faster route: Why would Leia not have been taken the fastest one??
How doest the sleeper agent know where Obi-Wan is, but none of the inquisitors does? How does she get there so fast? And why the fuck did she not cross path with the Third Sister??
Not to speak of how incredibly unfounded and unrealistic it was for the Third Sister to immediately find the entry in the beginning...
Sorry, but as much as I want to like it. The later half did not suspend my disbelief in the least.
As my wife aptly said after the conclusion of the episode, "there's plenty of action but not a lot of story here." There are certainly a lot of great moments and a good bit of mystery, but it feels more like a trailer for whats coming then a its own story.
Gosh, I hate plot armor. It's a motherf*** pyroclastic flow! Yet, all main protagonists escape (more or less) unharmed. Fantasy world or not - I don't feel treated in a serious way. They added the eruption only because it looks good and it was a great cliffhanger last episode. It looks awesome indeed, but it's all show and no substance. They refuse to go through with the inevitable consequences. Cowards! Who says that everyone needs to live? (Bronwyn even saved her infamous Met Gala dress - no blood stains, no burns).
Likewise, I don't like the scene between Elrond and Prince Durin. They try to negotiate an alliance. They talk and talk and talk. But nothing results from all the dialogue and multiple episodes. Instead, another miracle/vision saves the story: leaf and metal tell you what to do. Why should I pay attention to all the dialogue, the characters, the father/son conflict, the character's needs, hopes and attitudes? In the end this part of the story is (pre-) determined by a miracle/vision. The Prince does what the leaf tells him. [They did something very similar back at the islands with Galadrial. All her behavior (and bossy misbehaviour) had no consequences whatsoever. In the end it was a vision (and again leaves) that suddenly forged an alliance between Numinor and Galadriel.] That's not good story telling.
The score is again back to mediocre. It was suitable for last episode. But it's annoying in this episode. Music just won't stop. It doesn't help that this is a boring orchestral score - couldn't they come up with something more unique? The music often subdues everything else. And when they chose to focus on actual noises it's totally over-dramatic (like when the boy draws his sword when the Orcs approach. That's not how a sword sounds like when you draw it out the scabbard). I'm not even sure whether the dialogues between the Prince and King or between Galadriel and the boy are actually any good - I'm just annoyed by the melodramatic music during these scenes.
I still don't understand the whole Halbrand story. How did he end up as Lord/King? He used to be a random guy on a raft, a drunk prisoner, a thief and showed interest in becoming a blacksmith. Galadriel noticed that he can pick up a sword elegantly. That's all? That told her that he's a capable soldier? And now it feels like he's somehow (almost) the most capable soldier in the ranks of a FOREIGN army? [Strange enough that Galadriel - previously hated by almost everyone in Numinor - is suddenly accepted as a peer in battle.] In a very expensive armor tailor-made for him? Even a Lord? A King? And nobody questions this? People asked King Charles III. after his proclamation "who voted for you?", and I ask: what's Halbrand's merit or legitimacy? Is that something we have to accept because it was predicted in yet another vision (I somehow missed this part if there was such an omen)? His legitimacy surely can't be based on the coat of arms he carries around, can it? Anyone could have picked this up.
And I still don't know why nobody is alerting the elves. They deal with the drwarves. They deal with the bad omens they observe (like the dying tree). They send Elrond on away missions. I understand this. But all of this is not yet closely connected to the main story. Why does nobody send a messenger to report that Galadriel is back and she and Arondir fight Orcs and witnessed the "birth of Mordor"? Wouldn't that represent the more pressing issues for the elves? Remember: Arondir wanted to alert the other elves when he was caught in that trench. Has he forgotten what his plan was? Not saying that the metal/forge story might not eventually become handy in a war with Sauron and his Orcs - but shouldn't this story connected with the events in the Southlands aka Mordor? And wouldn't that help to convince the dwarf King to help them? It feels like no message is relayed simply because the writers wanted another episode to tell the father/son conflict. Why all that conflict between the King and his son when we already know that the common external threat represented by Sauron will eventually unite elves and dwarfs? It's all so predictable and artificially dragged out by not sending a messenger.
All what I said before sounds very negative. I still enjoy this episode. It's certainly not spectacular and lacks (like the whole show) complexity, but it's still nice to look at.
[7.9/10] I don’t know how Stranger Things wants me to feel about Papa. From my vantage point, he is, as Eleven calls him, a monster. In both flashbacks and present day scenes, we’ve seen him abuse the children in his care. So much of the first two seasons in particular was centered on Eleven moving past that. She embraces this new, wholesome, loving family, and discards her old, pernicious one. She finds a real dad, one who loves her and cares for her, rather than to have to swallow the harm presented as love she’d endured for so much of her life.
But then this season presented him as a force for good, at least to a degree. He helps Eleven regain her powers, as the ability to lift the giant metal drum indicates. He thinks she’s the only thing that can stop Henry/One/Vecna. He’s trying to make her better, make her well.
At the same time, though, Papa doesn’t care about what Eleven wants. He doesn’t care about her psychological well-being. Owens calls him out for it. He reminds Brenner that this bunker was never meant to be a prison and upbraids him for freaking out Eleven with the threat of Henry breaking the boundary between worlds, rather than easing her into it. Papa thinks he knows what’s best for his “daughter”. He holds her against her will, declaring that it’s for her own good, trapping her in the same shock collars he once held all of his other “children” in.
I was, frankly, glad to see that. It played like a reminder that Brenner is not a good man. After a season in which the show seemed to be trying to rehabilitate him, it finally had his worse, controlling, abusive nature rear its ugly head. Confining Eleven, ignoring her wishes, drugging her and putting her under your control, is legitimately monstrous.
And yet, when the military baddies show up, he tries to save her. More to the point, he wants her to believe that he always meant well, that he wanted what was best for her. God help me, maybe he did, at least in his own mind. I want to give Stranger Things credit. I want to believe it understands the nuance of abuse, where abusers do not necessarily see themselves as monsters, but think they’re doing the right thing for their victims. I want to buy that it sees the shades of gray in Brenner, someone who does unspeakable, repugnant things to innocent kids, but in his own twisted way, thinks he’s helping them. There is truth in that, and a complicated villain is a better villain.
The fact that Eleven grants him no absolution, but simply bids “Papa” goodbye, suggests the series understands. The feelings of the abused toward their parents is complicated. Love, attachment, care remains, even if it becomes hard to reconcile with the horrors inflicted. In a show that’s not afraid to spell things out, it leaves all this to subtext, a bold, subtle move that leads to humble, foolhardy viewers potentially overreading the situation.
Speaking of subtext, I don’t know if we’re going to get a scene with Will and Mike more emotionally explicit than the one we got here. The Pizza Van crew finally matters to the story, showing up to rescue Eleven from the Bunker and take her where she needs to go. But the most important thing they do isn’t plot-relevant.
It comes when Will reassures a worried Mike. Mike fears that Eleven doesn’t need him anymore, that he was a dumb schmuck who happened to find her, but that it’s not fated they be together. Will offers an emotional reassurance, about -- how it’s Mike’s heart that holds him together, how much he still means to her, how much he’ll always mean to her -- when it’s clear (to the audience at least) that he’s really talking about himself rather than Eleven.
It’s a great performance from Noah Schnapp, who absolutely kills it with the projected emotions he feels when speaking about someone else’s relationship. The reveal with his vaunted painting works and weaves together the complicated feelings of all three members of this unorthodox love triangle. The catch is, I don’t know if I want the show to go further than this. Will professing his true feelings in plain terms seems like a bill that’s due for the show at this point. And yet, there’s something poignant about Will having these feelings but, due to societal prejudices and recognizing where his friend’s heart lies, not being able to express them. There’s something true to life, even artful about that, and I wonder where Stranger Things will leave it.
I wonder far less what’s going to happen with Joyce, Hopper, Murray, and their pair of reluctant Russian allies. The most important thing in that corner of the show right now is the reveal that the Soviets are experimenting on creatures from the Upside Down. The scientists at this facility are vivisecting demogorgons, seemingly cloning or growing their own army of this sort of fauna, and even appear to have a mind flayer contained within their walls. Who knows what it means exactly, beyond the obvious -- the Ruskies are prepping for a war with extraordinary, albeit uncontrollable, weapons at their disposal -- but it’s an intriguing reveal.
What’s less intriguing is the Joyce/Hopper crew trying to find their way back to the United States. Escaping from the Russian prison is surprisingly easy. (Apparently Yuri’s van is bulletproof, which, fair I guess?) Their mission to use some combo of Yuri’s helicopter and a coded message to allies in the USA to get back is fine. But even this penultimate episode can’t escape the sense that this is a sideshow to keep the adults away from the major events happening in Hawkins and the the desert, rather than a meaningful part of the story in and of itself. Even Hopper and Joyce’s mutual “I thought you were dead” conversation doesn’t have much juice to it.
We get more character moments among the now united Hawkins faithful though. There’s still some excitement here. Nancy witnesses the horrors Henry experienced and then, in a big surprise, he lets her go as a messenger for Eleven. The crew steals a winnebago and collects weapons to fight Vecna’s demons. And they sit in fear with the knowledge that he means to use “four gates” to shatter the bounds between his world and ours, putting everyone our heroes know and love at risk in the process.
Still, this is mostly a “calm before the storm” part of the story for the Hawkins kids, which tend to be some of my favorite parts of genre movies and shows. It’s a chance to have those important character moments before the last act fireworks take the stage. We get to see the players bouncing off one another, expressing what they mean to each other, rather than just hacking and slashing at the dramatic CGI beastie du jour.
Some of these moments are small. Erica telling Lucas that even if they bicker, he’s still her brother, is quite sweet. Eddie roughhousing with Dustin over his puns and telling him to never change is weirdly flirtatious, but also very rousing in how he sees the kid’s greatness. And as much as I’m down on all the teases of Steve and Nancy getting back together, Steve waxing rhapsodic about his dream to have a whole “brood of Harringtons” roaming the countryside in a car like this, while Nancy looks on admiringly, is a really warm moment.
But there’s bigger moments too. Robyn seeing her crush with a boy and it hitting her like lightning is sad and sympathetic. But the same goes for her and Steve aiming to reassure her about it, while she insists there’s bigger fish to fry right now, but he still shows care for his best friend. Likewise, Max and Lucas’ heart-to-heart -- about Max’s willingness to be the bait for Vecna because she doesn’t want to be in harm’s way, about her confidence that she can best him by finding her happiest moment that just so happens to involve Lucas, and Lucas’ insistence that if things go wrong he’s going to deploy Kate Bush in a heartbeat -- affirms one of the sweetest and most earnest little romances on the show before the going gets tough.
Let’s be real, it’s stupid as hell for the kids to strap up and head into the breach to fight a psychic, telekinetic demon dude. Sure, there’s the patina of plausibility to the plan, with the notion that they can get him in his trance while he’s going after Max, something he needs in order to reach this world. But Eleven’s right to fear for them after she uses her mental wandering powers to learn what they’re up to. The blaring sounds of a Journey ballad undercuts the gravity of the situation (and weakens the vibe) more than a little as the episode comes to a close, but it’s a still an ominous thing our heroes are walking into.
There’s grace notes for other villains here. The jerk jock whose name I’ve forgotten in the month or so between episodes menaces Nancy at the gun shop, but never feels like more than a tertiary villain from another show. The big bad military dude shows he’s truly evil (if the torture didn’t do it) when Ownes gives him a safe way to test his theory that Eleven’s behind all the killings, and the guy decides to just kill her anyway. And Henry gets a few more chances to show his victims what waits in store for them if they continue down this path.
The heart of this one, though, comes with Eleven’s confrontation of her would-be father. She takes out those military goons with comparative ease, under the circumstances. SOme of the show’s best imagery comes with her and her pals amid the desert blaze. Eleven even enacts violence against Papa when he threatens to cage her again, force his will upon her “for her own good.”
In the end, though, forces beyond his control prevent him from enacting his plan. To his dying breath, he wants his “daughter” to believe that he meant well. Eleven won’t grant him the forgiveness and understanding he seeks, because whatever lingering attachment she has to the man who raised her, he doesn’t deserve it. But now, whatever his wishes, she is untethered, recharged, and ready to save the people who do deserve her care, and her love.
Oh God no, not Wade! Not the character we don't even know, and couldn't give less of a care about. Why did you have to take such a nobody from us!?
Yawn, this show is just plain boring.
[7.5/10] This show has earned a lot of trust. Sure, if you parse through Walter White’s plans or Jimmy McGill’s schemes, some of them rely on happy accidents or have pieces that don’t fully add up. But for the most part, the Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul-verse plays fair. If something is unclear, or scans as peculiar, or even just seems confusing, you can normally rest assured that if you wait long enough, a satisfying explanation or payoff is on the way.
Which is all to say that I think I understand Lalo’s ultimate goal. He doesn’t just want to kill the chicken man; he wants to discredit him with the cartel so that the murder will be justified in the eyes of their fellow “businessmen”. The Salamanca leader wants proof that Gus Fring was preparing to build his own lab, to be able to do business independently of the cartel, something the audience knows as well as Lalo wouldn’t fly with Don Eladio or his associates. It’s a clever plan, one with an elegance and consideration that makes it worthy of threatening Gus and making Lalo a formidable opponent.
But I have no idea how Lalo arrived at it. How much valuable info did he really get from his brief conversation with Werner back in “Winner”, the season 4 finale? How did he track down Werner’s wife, Margarethe? How does a slide ruler encased in lucite, engraved with “With Love, from Your Boys” bring him closer to finding them?
You can imagine answers to these questions. Maybe the details he heard from Werner were enough for a smart guy like Lalo to piece together what Gus was up to, or at least realize Fring was doing something shady. (Or shady by drug runner standards.) Maybe the info Lalo got from the guy at the TravelWire was enough for him to pinpoint a woman named Margarethe in the general area. Maybe the tag at the bottom of the lucite memento will be enough to get him to the facility that made it and track down their client and get one of Werner’s boys to spill out of a loyalty to their leader and a desire for Lalo to get revenge on the men who ordered and carried out his death. But it all requires a few more logical leaps than you normally get from a tightly-orchestrated show like Better Call Saul.
The same goes for Gus’ actions in “Black and Blue.” I love ninety percent of what we see of him here. This normally unflappable man is utterly paranoid. Actually, paranoid’s the wrong word, since he’s justified in his fears about a shark like Lalo. Nevertheless, it’s unusual, to say the least, to see Gus rattled. He can’t do his work at Pollos Hermanos. He can’t work the cash register without zoning out in a state of low-grade terror. He can’t sleep and finds himself scrubbing bathtubs with a toothbrush as part of his fear-exacerbated OCD.
The episode nicely lays out why. Mike says it -- this is a waiting game. Gus isn’t used to waiting. He likes to take action. He plans everything out to the finest detail. He prepares for the future and executes his plan. But now, somebody else is in charge of the when and why and how, and all he can do is react. That's an unfamiliar position for Gus, and one that unsettles him even in his own home and place of business.
But I don’t know why he descends into the bowels of his superlab and tucks a gun into the tire tread of an excavation vehicle. Once again, you can read between the lines a bit. Presumably he’s onto Lalo’s game. He worries that someone, whether Lalo or a representative of the cartel, will force him into his off-the-books cooking site, and he’ll be forced to defend himself. So he’s providing his future self a Chekov’s gun to be able to use if he’s cornered.
That requires a lot of forethought from Gus though. It requires him to predict exactly how this might go down and have exactly the right remedy for it. Maybe the plan will blow up in his face in it’ll take some crazy intervention from Mike or others to save him, not the gun. Maybe he had the flash of recollection of Lalo learning the info from Werner and just wanted to cover his bases. Maybe he’s in full paranoid mode and is just trying to provide for every conceivable contingency, no matter how unlikely, because he has to do something other than sit around and wait for the attempt on his life to happen. You can justify most of this stuff in some terms, but it doesn’t play as natural, and requires near-clairvoyance from Gus.
The contrivance in all of this doesn’t make everything bad, though. Seeing Fring squirm is a remarkable thing, and it’s a positive that the show takes its time to depict the typically steady boss freaking out a little bit in his own understated way. Lalo’s plan requires filling in a few gaps, but his flirtatious scene with Margarethe plays his debonair manipulation to the hilt. His snooping and willingness to kill another civilian makes his scenes in her house terrifying. (Plus, for a guy who bears a resemblance to Timothy Dalton -- no relation -- his scenes feel appropriately Bond-esque.) And guest actress Andrea Sooch does a tremendous job as Margarethe, evincing the love she had for her husband and the pain she still feels over her loss.
Seeing Werner’s wife recollect and grieve, Lalo fish for information however he can get it, and Gus panic in an uncharacteristic way are all worthwhile, even if the paths to get there require some narrative contortions.
Gus isn’t the only one, panicking though. Kim is likewise afraid of Lalo, unable to sleep at three in the morning, barricading doors, and having a smoke to try to calm down. Seeing the way this weighs on her, while she feels as though she can’t tell Jimmy the truth lest it trigger an even worse response from him, is a compelling note for Rhea Seehorn to play. It could mess him up mentally at a time when he’s doing well, happy with his new success and able to hire back Francesca to manage his big influx of clients. Kim understandably doesn’t want to disrupt that. And we also see the intimacy between she and Jimmy in their home life, the casual chumminess they have apart from their plotting and scheming.
Howard’s onto that scheming, though. For once, we see why Howard is successful at what he does, calming a room full of elderly class members and convincing them that their lawyers aren’t just fighting to get them more money, hence the delays, but fighting for a broader principal about not letting big companies take advantage of people. Who knows if Howard believes it himself, but he sells it better than poor overwhelmed Erin can, and it shows the audience that he may be a prick, but he’s not a schmuck. There’s a reason he’s risen to where he is, even if it’s just packaging pablum with the perfection of a politician.
Clifford confronts him about the suspicious goings on of late, not out of a sense of accusation, but as an offer of help. He really is the most decent man in this entire show. But his offer of assistance only tips Howard off that, once again, Jimmy McGill is out to get him.
That’s where it gets bizarre though. Hamlin, under the cheeky pseudonym “Mr. H.O. Ward,” lures Jimmy into an impromptu boxing match. It feels silly, even by Better Call Saul’s occasionally outsized standards. The show doesn’t dress up two middle-aged guys throwing body shots at one another. It’s awkward and ugly the way it ought to be. But it seems unbelievable that either one of them would go through with a stunt like this.
Only here, “Black and Blue” provides answers. For Howard, it’s an opportunity not just to maybe, just maybe, work out some of the pair’s psychological issues through physical activity, but a chance to sic a private eye on Jimmy. Howard’s no rube, after what he’s been through. He’s fighting fire with fire, hoping to catch his antagonizer in the act and clearing his name with his co-counsel. The fact that his tail might run into Gus’ tail on Jimmy and Kim only leads to even more tantalizing possibilities.
More to the point, we learn why Saul would do it, when he has every reason to just walk away from Howard. Kim explains it -- because Jimmy knows what happens next. He knows that they’re going to ruin Hamlin’s life. And just like Kim starts to feel a twinge of guilt when her former colleague talks about how much she admires Kim, Jimmy feels the same. He wants to let Howard have his jollies while he can, because he knows the hammer will fall soon.
It’s a satisfying answer for an absurd thing. That's the trust I have in Better Call Saul writ large, to be able to cover for contrivances like Lalo’s detective work and Fring’s premonitions in a way that's emotionally and narratively satisfying. This show, and its predecessor, aren’t perfect in every detail, but they’re strong when it counts. More to the point, they’re strong enough at delivering that punch, that turn, that unexpected but cathartic jolt in the story, that makes you trust wherever they’d like to take you, and however they’d like to get there.
[8.6/10] It’s a fool’s errand to wish for happy endings in the world of Better Call Saul. But I had a faint hope for Nacho. I pictured him getting out somehow. I envisioned him finally escaping from the life that he fell too deeply into and starting again. I imagined Jesse Pinkman arriving in Alaska and making a connection with Ignacio Varga under an assumed name, Mike’s two surrogate sons coming together and looking after one another the way he might have done himself. It’s a nice thought, one too nice for the consequences this universe tends to have in store for its major players.
Instead, Nacho is dead. And we are left to take comfort in the few saving graces of his unfortunate demise. He went out his way, choosing his own “good death” rather than being the plaything of other people’s wills like he’s been for so much of the series. He did so to guarantee the safety of his father, with whom he shared a pained final phone call, freighted with meaning. He claimed one final measure of control, of destiny, to make his death worth something, to him and the people he cared about.
These are small blessings and small comforts. I teared up at the fateful moment when Nacho takes his own life rather than subject himself to the plans of the drug lords around him. Because this is a tragedy. Because this went south just as Nacho’s father said it would. Because Nacho thought he could beat it, avoid the pitfalls, and instead was sucked down by the inevitable gravity of this life. Because despite his best efforts, Mike Ehrmantraut lost another son.
These are not showy, emotional men. So their tiniest expressions speak volumes. The scrunch of Mike’s mouth when he knows Nacho’s gone that reveals his pain and disgust with this whole thing. The slightly raised eyebrows of Gus Fring that show his quiet terror that, with one word, Nacho could blow this whole thing up. And the almost imperceptible nod shared by Nacho and Mike, an acknowledgment of deeds that say more than any words either man has. This is a grim, even sentimental experience for all, made that much more forceful by how Better Call Saul underplays it.
God help me, Michael Mando deserves an Emmy for this episode alone. He, like so much of this incredibly talented cast, has deserved recognition for a long time now. But this is a masterclass. The sheer physicality he puts on display when Nacho buries himself in the sludge of an old tanker truck, the unspoken well of pain and regret pouring out of him when he hears his father’s voice one last time, the sheer vitriol on display when he curses the Salamancas and declares himself the author of all their pain. The shades of desperation, resignation, and self-immolation Mando communicates are virtuosic to the last. If this is truly his final performance on the show, he goes out with his masterpiece.
But it’s not all Nacho in this episode. We get more advancement in Kim and Jimmy’s plan to undermine Howard. This is one of their smaller efforts, but there’s a sufficient amount of tension in Huell(!) and a keymaker using their combined skills to duplicate Howard’s car keys before his valet can catch wise. One of this show’s great skills is taking fairly mundane parts of these scams and ratcheting up the tension. The interplay between a teenage valet rushing back to a parking garage, cut with the grooves of the key and the stairwells of the building, set to a classical soundtrack, makes a comparatively straightforward part of this plan seem like a big deal.
But after such chicanery, Huell asks Saul a simple but telling question -- why do you do this? The dialogue implies that Huell needs the funds, that this is one of few options for him. Jimmy, on the other hand, is a lawyer. His wife is a lawyer. They could get by without this. Jimmy claims that Huell doesn’t understand, that this is for the greater good, that even if the tactics are underhanded, the desired result is good, which makes taking these risks worthwhile.
And yet, Kim and Jimmy seem to revel in the chase. There’s something personal in this for both of them. The thrill of it seems to light both of their fires. All of it suggests their motives for continuing with something that, to Huell’s implicit point, they don’t have to pursue, may not be as altruistic as Saul pretends. More to the point, they have more to lose in all this than either one of them seems ready to acknowledge.
There’s a lifeline though. One of the prosecutors, Suzanne Ericsen, who once called Jimmy a scumbag, offers to let him turn state’s evidence. She pieces together not only the real deal with Lalo, but how Jimmy didn’t want to be the cartel’s lawyer. After Kim turns over some incriminating evidence she’d be better off suppressing in the name of fairness, Suzanne shares this offer with her, with the idea that he might listen to her in a way he wouldn’t listen to Suzanne.
Suzanne frames it as an opportunity to do what’s right after being steeped in something dirty. Kim frames it as a choice between being a “friend of the cartel” or a rat. But neither of them seems to fully countenance it in the way the viewers, who can process it in the context of the show as a whole, can. It’s a chance for Jimmy to do what Nacho didn’t -- to get out of this, to step away before it’s too late.
It’s too late for Nacho. He tries valiantly to avoid the worst of the blowback. His descent into the muck to avoid his killers is as symbolic as it is terrifying. His kindness (and cash) for a friendly mechanic who offers him help when he needs it and asks for nothing in return shows the decency within a troubled and ultimately doomed young man. His grief, not just at never being able to see his father again, but at confirming Manuel Varga’s worst fears and predictions about his son, is palpable.
There is something admirable in Nacho in his final days, when he accepts the inevitability of his end. He cannot change that. He’s made too many bad choices to reach this point. But he can use his life, the value it still has, to protect the person he cares about most.
The sharpest thing Nacho does is leverage the value of whether he’ll tell the Salamancas the truth, or whether he’ll play along. He realizes the rare power he holds over Gus, rather than the other way around. He doesn’t use it for comfort or to try to buy his own way out. He just wants to protect his dad and uses the last thing he has of value to do it.
It wouldn’t work, though, without his similarly paternal bond with Mike. For all his “Not my call” talk with Nacho, Mike is a man of honor. The only way a promise from a snake like Gus means anything to Ignacio is that it comes backed by Mike.
There’s a rapport between the two of them, an understanding, a familial intimacy that adds the wholesomeness and tragedy of it all. Mike insists on being the one to rough Nacho up to look the part of someone working against Gus’ operation rather than for it. Beforehand, they share that drink together, an acknowledgment or respect and care. And Mike puts himself out there to be an “insurance policy” for the plan, there to ensure, in his heart of hearts, that it goes down the way they planned it, that Nacho doesn’t have to suffer. He looks through the scope in the way he did back in season 2’s “Klick”, and sees someone who understands the lengths a father and son will go to in order to protect one another as well as he does.
Except, when the time comes, Nacho goes off script. He palmed a piece of glass, presumably from the cup Gus broke an episode ago, and uses it when the time’s right. Rather than simply announcing, as Fring insisted, that he was in league with Alvarez and paid off by rivals in Peru to sabotage the Salamancas, he goes a step further.
He laughs at the prospect of “the chicken man” being involved as a joke. He swears his hatred of the whole Salamanca family, offering up the motive for him to do this without any need for being aligned with Gus. He takes credit for Hector’s sugar pills, pointing to Gus’ intervention as the only reason Hector is still alive. In brief, he makes the story better and more plausible than even Gus had in mind. It’s clever, proving his worth even in his final moments, giving Fring everything he could possibly want to throw the heat off of him, in the hopes that it will convince the crime lord to keep his word and spare his father. After so long, so many missteps, Nacho seized control and went out on his own terms, if only a little.
The palmed glass becomes vital to slipping through the zip ties that bind him. He seizes Don Bolsa’s gun and holds it to the man’s head, so everyone can point their guns at him. And then, with the weapon in hand, he can kill himself, rather than subject him to the Salamancas’ torture or other humiliating or excrutiating ways to leave his world. His death is still a sad, terrible, regrettable thing, but it comes with a moment of self-actualization, where for a moment at least, Nacho is not the pawn of these men. He is their equal. And then he is gone.
Another life wasted. Another existence snuffed out in the middle of the desert. Another son lost amid the plata y plomo. In a beautiful opening sequence, we see the flora growing over the spot where Nacho died, growth perhaps fueled by his remains. Amid such desolation grows a beautiful azure flower, the rain come to wash it all away. There, catching its droplets, is that same shard of glass, the one that gave Nacho his last bit of freedom, before the collective weight of these larger forces could firmly and finally take it away.
It would be too much to call Nacho a good person. At his best, he was still a drug dealer thriving on others’ addiction and misery. He may have been a touch nobler, a touch younger and thus more excusable, than the psychos he worked for. But he was still a bad guy doing bad things.
And yet, there was something recognizable in his fall and folly. Too many of us see shorter, yet more dangerous paths to the things we want, and believe we can avoid their greatest perils along the way to our hope for spoils. We see Nacho’s regret, his emptiness, his sense of being trapped in this before he realized how deeply he had fallen. We see how his desire to protect his dad -- from Hector, from Gus, from his own mistakes -- led him to this point, where he was in too deep with no good options.
Nacho may not have been perfect, but he was pitiable; he was recognizable; he was loved. There is always tragedy in the death of someone loved. Jimmy is also loved. He has his chance to get out, to turn to the police like Nacho’s father instructed his son.
But Ignacio didn’t listen. He’ll never have a chance to escape. He won’t ever meet Jesse in Alaska. Exit ramps are rare. Happy endings are in short supply in this world. And in the end, there weren’t enough of either left for Manuel Varga’s little boy.
Looks like I'm in the minority here, but as someone who has been disappointed with this series (due to a combination of writing and superhero fatigue - it's real dammit), this was one of the best Marvel Disney+ episodes so far.
The visuals and aesthetics were great in this as well as the kinetic animation style but the story massively leaves you hanging the twist is already hinted at from the get go anyways.
This was really endearing, lots of cute moments.
In most other shows I'd find it ridiculous to have characters get married after knowing each other for only three days but everyone in TUA is just unhinged enough for something like this to work. And I'm always here for the "let's have a party before the world ends" trope.
I like that they finally gave new Ben some depth, took them long enough!
Reginald being nice (or at least pretending to) is totally weirding me out and I'm loving it.
Klaus is definetely carrying this season so far.
Everytime Allison spoke I could not help but roll my eyes. The adaucity to not even accept Viktor's apology which in no way she even deserved... ugh. Her emotions are very much justified, I don't blame her at all for grieving and being angry but after forcing herself on Luther and not even apologizing for it and then going on to murder Harlan in cold blood, I just cannot stand looking at her anymore. She's irredeemable.
What is the point in these ships even having weapons systems? The star destroyer couldn't even shoot a super basic defenceless ship out of the sky! It has been utterly infuriating watching the action sequences in this show.
"I will do what I must" made me cringe. It was like bad fan fiction. The fight wasn't great, though it was definitely better than the fight back in episode 3 of the show.
Reva might just be the most pathetic force user of all time. How the hell did a couple of random farmers hold their own against her? Again, the action in this show has been consistently dreadful - just straight-up bad decisions by the writing team, and laughably poor choreography. Also, she literally just took a lightsaber to the gut hours ago and was left for dead, yet now she suddenly appears absolutely fine walking around on Tattoine? WHAT IS THIS SHOW?
Glad we got the Qui-Gon cameo at the end though.
"Spectacular" "Amazing" Really? It was alright. It felt like a webisode (remember those?) than a pilot.
I don't like that they are turning a mercenary villain into a good guy just to make the series more digestible.
I also don't see it as a positive when a series is like another series. Take Better Call Saul, for example. It's very much its own thing.
I'm exhausted. This tension, the politics, the intrigue, even to the last second. So much is happening in this episode. So much concealed under such elegant garments.
In one way I look forward to the finale next week, however I'm not sure how they are going to fit what I was anticipating to be in this episode into the last, unless it is a 3hr episode, but I think it won't be such.
The other way I'm looking forward to the finale, is I no longer will need to invest all my emotion and attention in this concentration of spectacle and the craft of each Actor performing to perfection their role, and appreciating each word, glance, and interaction with their counterparts in such a magnificent, stunning location.
I'll be ready for this finale but until then I'll be soaking in what I've watched today. What a pleasure it is to witness what the Arts can deliver if given a proper opportunity.
Thank you to the Creators, Actors, Crew, and Those That have painstakingly brought this masterpiece to us.
The conundrum has set in... I desperately want to see the last episode now, but I don't want it to be the last show. 10/10
The first 3/4s of this episode are so generic and full of plot holes that I felt compelled to write a review. Every time Galadriel appears I feel I'm watching Mulan... The music can be so generic and underwhelming sometimes... Random 12-hour charge from the ships to save a village they had no idea it existed and was attacked in the first place. Randomly the queen knows Isildur very well and somehow, she decides: "oh yeah kid, go and fight because you're itching for battle with 0 experience", and oooh so it happens he rushes and his dad is in peril!... wtf???!!! are you for real? Same bullshit fight with the elf and the huge orc while Bronwyn coming to save him was so predictable... This is the worst episode of all so far. I'm sure Disney would've done a better job. The good like always are the costumes and the makeup, great looking orcs. last part of the episode is good, and leaves us with a cliffhanger. I wonder if they'll finally deliver next week
I'm enjoying the season (mostly) but it's definitely the worst season of the show so far. We need less Viktor, less Allison, less Sloane, and more Reginald!
Still mad they killed off the two most interesting Sparrow's first.
Oh damn that scene with Vanya and #1. Lay it out plain - don't fuck with her!
Will be interesting to see how she becomes Viktor but damn they could have given Elliot a better wig for the start of this. It's really good he was comfortable enough to play out the Vanya parts of the season though.
Wrapping it up with the title "Captain America and the Winter Soldier" was a nice touch :)
Incredibly hard to watch but equally as SUPERB of an episode of television. Jamie Lee Curtis gonna win an Emmy for this.
I think watching this episode is going to be a new holiday tradition. Better than most Christmas movies.
One of the most captivating shows of the decade ended with this episode. I can’t sing Shogun enough praise. What an absolute masterpiece.
Maybe they’ll continue it, maybe they won’t. I know I’ll be following the crew to see what they do next.
I won't lie, I actually liked the previous episode more. It was a good ending, but it could have ended a bit further into the future, leaving the rest to our imagination isn't too much of a problem. I could listen to Lady Ochiba's speech for hours, she is magnificent. The conversation between Toranaga and Yabushige was really good too. Thank you for one of the best series of recent times. Here's hoping to see more productions that portray Japanese culture and history in such a high-quality manner...
I secretly wanted Fuji and Anjin to be together, I'm sorry Mariko-sama. (˘･_･˘)
"Why tell a deadman the future?"
I couldn't have asked for a more fitting finale for this "piece of an art" mini-series. The bar was set high. It could've been either like the GoT finale or Breaking Bad finale. So glad they stayed consistent from start to finish. Undoubtedly, this ranks among the greatest miniseries ever produced.
Many people may be dissatisfied with the finale if they expected to watch an all-out war, which contradicts the entire idea of the show.
This new school looks like my own personal hell. Those kids are so peppy and aggressively woke that it’s legit creeping me out
Worst episode ever. So boring.
