Daniel Bigler

[7.8/10] Another winner. Death seems to be a fact of life where the Rez Dogs come from. Elora lost her friend and probable crush Daniel. Coach Bobson seems to be on the path of losing his daughter. Both of them lost Elora’s mom, as a friend or as a parent. It’s a consequence of living in a place where prospects dwindle quickly, hope trickles slowly, and escapes are both plentiful and dangerous. That doesn’t make it easier.

The friendship that emerges between Elora and her old basketball coach is all kinds of endearing. The ridiculousness of an ill-fated driving test that turns into a shoot-out at a seedy motel that turns into yet another visit to the meth heads’ salvage (nee scrap) yard is amusing in that wry way Reservation Dogs pulls off so well.

But the main event here is recollections of loss. We get more of the story on Daniel, and holy hell, is Elora stumbling on his suicide in their hangout a jolt of cold water to the heart. We get glimpses at Daniel’s problems, from a difficult homelife that makes it so he “can’t go home,” to behavioral issues that leave him easily fixated on things like opening cars or fast dancing to slow music. We see more closely just how attached Elora was to him, and more of why our heroes internalized his dream of going to California.

It’s sad stuff. Being a teenager is already so hard. Being a teenager with no home life to fall back on, with apparent mental health issues makes it even harder. Your heart goes out to Daniel, not just because we get a picture of him through brief glimpses and his friends’ remembrances, but because he stands in for so many real young men and women, struggling with the hardships of life at a time where it’s so easy to be overwhelmed.

Despite that, there’s a real undercurrent of sweetness to this one, of Elora finding solace in an unlikely place, of she and Coach Bobson bonding over fond recollections of Elora’s mom, of him giving her a passing grade on her driving test despite (or because of) their questionable escapades, of finding out that the indigenous word he thought meant “white warrior” actually meant “toilet” in a reveal that’s both amusing and a sign of trust. There are silver linings to the bad things in life, people we can bond with or show compassion to. This episode is a lovely tribute to that idea, even as it delivers one of the series’ most heartbreaking scenes yet.

[8.3/10] This is my favorite episode of the season so far. What the show lacks in conspicuous artistry, it makes up for in realism. While I haven't been in the specific scenario of a Bay Area duo preaching “declonaivization” to a group of teens, I have been in any number of mandatory seminars where pie-in-the-sky facilitators cheerily force bored teens through various bonding/learning exercises. This episode gets the reaction of both the instructors and the teens just right.

It’s also a good episode for the various character relationships. I like the continued hints that, despite existing in opposition to each other for most of the series, there’s a strange concordance between Bear and Jackie. The fact that they win the potato dance contest (a strange sentence to write) despite grousing at one another the whole time is a sign that they’re more in sync, more aligned, than either of them realizes. We’ve had hints of that throughout the season, and I’m intrigued where it’s headed.

Likewise, I appreciate the way that Bear and Alora seem to work out their lingering issues from Alora bailing through a “guide your blindfolded friend through an obstacle course” exercise. (And Willie Jack using the exercise to have Cheese get her a soda is a big laugh.) The sense of learning to trust one another through the process seems to help them push past their beef. And yet, the theme of the episode seems to be that some issues are too deep to be resolved through hippie dippie, baseless shtick to keep teens occupied for an afternoon.

The scene at the end of the episode between Bear and Alora Jack is powerful. Bear’s hurt is real, but his attitude is childish, and his attempt to try to hurt Alora in turn by saying she’ll die alone like her grandmother is a verbal knife in the back. He’s right that Alora never apologized, but she’s also right to point out his hypocrisy in claiming to be the bigger person when spewing that kind of B.S., and that she’s not sorry for leaving that sort of childishness behind, even if she didn’t go about it the right way. The acting is a little stiff, but the emotions feel real, which gives the scene life.

In the same vein, I appreciate Willie Jack’s scenario with Jackie. She, more than anyone, has been the most resistant to Jackie’s presence in their orbit, even as she worked to remove the curse on her. The fact that she intentionally bungles a trust fall to get back at Jackie for jumping her friend seems almost cruel in the moment. But I like what follows a lot, where Willie Jack trashes Jackie’s brother, without realizing that the brother is dead, “like Daniel.” There’s a parallel between her and Bear, in trying to get back at someone and realizing you’ve gone too far when you see the humanity in your enemy. Willie Jack’s remorse, Jackie’s hurt and threat, and the way the enmity between them remains is another sign that this session didn’t fix anything.

Despite my backhanded compliment above, there’s a lot of artistry in this episode. The simple composition of Willie Jack approaching Jackie at the clinic is very well framed. The sequences where the kids recall a happy moment from their pasts, realized in black and white with one splash of color is eye-grabbing. And the flowing camera work when Alora is home alone, helps convey the eeriness of that scenario, where she feels the presence of her dead grandmother, or at least sees her sanctuary seem more unnerving in its solitude, conveyed with the cinematography and the acting.

Overall, this is a high water mark for season 2, which has its laughs and its neat directorial choices, but also some well-observed moments among the show’s main characters.

[8.0/10] This is one of those episodes where Reservation Dogs’ slice of life approach works really well. There isn’t much that’s flashy in this episode, despite the impressionistic visits of not one but two spirits in the episode. But it so perfectly captures the awkward yet communal energy of people joining together in the face of losing a loved one. This isn't a grand, dramatic, heroic death like you might find in a superhero show, or even the sort of senseless, random death you might find in a prestige drama. It’s a normal death, and everyday death, with all that comes with it, and somehow that gives it that much more power.

I also appreciated the homecoming of Alora’s Aunt Teenie. For one thing, she’s a means of expanding Alora’s perspective, and those of all the kids. She comes back with stories, of how their crew acted when they were the kids age, of how Alora’s grandmother used to be before alora’s mom, Cookie, died, and of how the mistakes and monkeyshines that the current generation are dealing with are not that different from those that the last generation did, even as the aunts and uncles and other elders are regularly trying to steer the youngins in the right direction.

But Teenie’s also a cautionary tale about leaving this place for Alora. Jackie ingratiates herself to the group by showing up to support Alora in her hour of need. Yet, she also reiterates the plan to go to California and leave all this behind. At the same time, though, Alora sees her Aunt Teenie, who accomplished what she’d hoped for in some way, but also hurt Alora by not being there for her when her mom couldn't be. The aunt’s return, and their painful but wholesome reunion, gives Alora more new perspective, both understanding why someone would want to leave and have trouble going back, but also understanding on a deeper level why leaving would hurt the people who stayed behind.

Despite all that bigger thematic material, what I appreciate most about “Mabel” is that it’s a well-observed series of vignettes about what these events are like, with commonalities that stretch across the cultures. The strange mix of joy at communities together with the sadness of the reason for it abides. The awkward small talk and strange conversations as people try to be supportive while also keeping busy through what can be a long waiting process rings true. And the combination of waiting, helping, supporting, not really knowing what to do, and ultimately grieving feels right.

It’s particularly true for Alora and Teenie. Teenie loses her mother, telling her that her other daughter will be waiting for her, and ultimately breaking down. And Alora needs some air, needs to grieve privately with her only guardian slipping away. The vision of her grandmother as a spirit is another dose of magical realism, but one that works with the show’s rye sense of humor and earnest spirituality, with Mabel telling her granddaughter that she did good through all this and also...not to sell her dishware.

On the whole, it’s a well done, poignant episode of the show that captures the way these moments feel and unfold as well as any show on television, while also making it unique and individual for Alora and her specific baggage and challenges.