I broke down when his dad finally hugged him, shedding his own shame from the abuse in his past.
Don't agree with the comments here. This is how effed up you get after a rape. Deny, deflect, lie, confusion, hypersexuality, asexuality, shame, lies because of the shame... This is hitting everything and it's so true. I just want to say, please don't judge before you go through the same thing.
sobbing HE CANT KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH IT!!
(by "he" I mean Vince Gilligan and the rest of the cast and crew and by "it" I mean making this show so consistently high quality)
I love how they got the actual sons of the actors to play the young versions of the characters.
Is just me or Che is a manipulative, selfish awful person?
As I said the first couple episodes of this season...Shayne is very toxic. I get wanting to be acknowledged but having to constantly be told you're amazing...that's a little too much. Natalie dodged a bullet there. Natalie, Deepti, and Kyle all dodged bullets. The only couple I was kinda sad about was Sal and Mal, I thought they were kinda cute together. I'm also very surprised none of the guys turned around and punched Shake, what an idiot. Last, I read rumors that Deepti and Kyle actually are dating!! Hmm...
[9.0/10[ An incredibly tense hour of television. What's so impressive is that Better Call Saul accomplished this despite us knowing that, of course, Jimmy and Gus both survive. It comes down to such fantastic performances from everyone involved. You immediately buy how shaken and terrified Jimmy and Kim are, and how frightened even the normally steady Gus is at the point of Lalo's gun. Vince Gilligan's direction is outstanding, with a Hitchcockian flair for light and shadow that sets the foreboding mood of all these set pieces. And the score does the rest, helping the audience to feel the emotion of these scenes even if we rationally know the fates of several of those at the most risk.
My only mild beef is that Gus' survival feels like a bit of a cheat. It's still not clear to me why he did the gun in the superlab, and the dialogue kind of shrugs at the idea. Even in the dark, it seems like Lalo would have done better against Fring than he did. But details like Fring seeming to make one last desperate ploy to survive, still suffering wounds despite his body armor, and admitting he was over his skiis with this whole thing in the end helps make it passable. On a moment-to-moment basis, the scenes absolutely work, which covers for a lot.
What struck me the most is that closing image -- Howard and Lalo, two very different men, sharing the same fate and the same grave. It's a sign that the barrier between Jimmy's legal life and Saul's criminal life has been firmly shattered. Both lives, both worlds, are bound up in these deaths now, with the psychic weight hanging over Jimmy and Kim for the last five episodes. This never happened, but they, and Mike, will all still have to live with it. I can't wait to see how.
EDIT: If you'd like to read my usual, longer review of the episode, you can find it here -- https://thespool.net/reviews/tv-recap-better-call-saul-season-6-episode-8/
This was truly heartbreaking…Worlds collide as Jimmy’s life morphs into Saul’s longterm burden. Seeing Howard be killed so swiftly was gut-wrenching. I particularly love the juxtaposition between Nacho’s heroic/final victory death and Howard’s tragic demise - Jimmy and Kim tarnished his reputation and his death will now cement his defamed legacy and undercut all the success his life and career had seen. Love how both death scenes feel very inevitable and using that fact to heighten the tension and bask in the moment of the scene. I can’t praise the BB/BCS team enough. Emphasized bravo to Patrick Fabian, putting on an award worthy performance all season long.
[7.4/10] Watchmen is not a carbon copy, rehash, or recapitulation of, well, Watchmen, which is to say that the most admirable thing about this introduction to the television series is that it is clearly of the world and characters brought to life on the comic book page by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons, clearly indebted to their approach and their style, but is also clearly its own thing. In an age where franchise extensions are ubiquitous and even nominally original films and T.V. shows offer reheated versions of familiar tropes, that in and of itself is refreshing.
That’s not to say that “It’s Summer and We’re Running Out of Ice”, that mouthful of a title for an opening episode, doesn't take pains to remind you what its inspiration and source material is. The catch, and the thing that makes the premiere a little more admirable than other late sequels, is that those references and remembrances have a twist that reminds you of what came before while channeling it into what’s happening now.
So you have the chance to see the iconography of smiley face through a classroom baking demonstration. You have the same circular visual motifs in aerial shots that create the tableau of a clock face. With that, you have an ambient sound track of ticks to make the audience nervous, for clocks and bombs and more, at the same time some characters literally verbalize the onomatopoeia. You have police cruising around in something akin to Nite Owl’s ship. You have a crowd of Rorschach worshippers quoting his most famous speech from the comic. You have, as promised in the final pages of the original graphic novel, the legacy of a Robert Redford presidency. You have little baby squid falling from the sky and concerns that batteries from old Dr. Manhattan-technology cause cancer. If you’re a fan of the original Watchmen, there’s plenty to latch onto here.
But the trick is how those homages are used -- as a bridge to the current setting and the exploration of topics that were, at best, tangential to what the original Moore/Gibbons comic were exploring. “It’s Summer” ends in the same way as the first issue of Watchmen started, with a murder mystery over the untimely death of a member of the old guard, and his blood dripping down on his pin of choice, only now, the victim is a police sergeant, not a masked vigilante, and the blood is dripping down onto his police badge, not the iconic yellow expression that’s come to represent so much.
And therein lies the difference, and what makes Lindelof’s Watchmen admirable. It’s using the same iconography and approach to get at something different, something timely about the tenuous connection between law enforcement and race and justice in the same way that nuclear annihilation was timely in the 1980s. It represents a transformation of Moore and Gibbons approach, something that channels their spirit, without just following a cookie cutter roadmap or reconjuring the same conflict and themes in a shiny new box.
I like that approach. I like the themes that Lindelof and company are chewing on in this opening stanza. I like the character at the center of the narrative. I like the concept of police identities being hidden and every interaction rigorously authorized and recorded as something to wrestle with. I like the notion of the post-squid attack United States having to deal with Rorschach-worshipping, hard right, conspiracy theorizing domestic terrorists as the legacy of *Watchmen*s most famous character.
I am intrigued (if a bit apprehensive) about how the typical dynamics are mixed and inverted, with the conservative white vigilantes going after a police force that, in this opening episode at least, prominently features African Americans. I like the bizarre dichotomy between Nixon and Redford as opposing symbols on that axis. I like an aged, secluded Ozymandias clearly still haunted by the memory of Dr. Manhattan.
I just don’t love the execution of all of that just yet. This is HBO, so everything looks pretty damn good. There’s a slickness to the production, a fluidity to the action scenes, and an attention to detail in the cinematography and production design that let you know this is a high class production. There is style here and competence here, reflected in the quality of the shots, the construction of the world, and the performers enlisted to bring it all to life.
And yet there’s something oddly soulless about it all. For touching on such hot topics, and channeling such a well-felt story, “It’s Summer” struggles to feel like a real human story, rather than one of metaphors and abstractions finding convenient purchase in various characters. Pilots are tough, needing to introduce the major personalities, places, and conflicts of the story, and this one does it all ably, on top of drawing noticeable but not over the top connections to its inspiration. But there’s little here that grabs you with its realness instead of tapping you on the shoulder with its intriguing but strangely detached vibe.
Still, there’s enough here to chew on, and enough promise to keep coming back.# Watchmen the T.V. series gives away the game a bit in its 1921 silent film opening, giving us a cinematic throwback to match “Tales of the Black Freighter” from the comic. It’s a story about who can lay claim to being the arbiter of justice, who can rightfully wear a mask, and who can be treated and as worthy of enforcing the law in a time and place where racial tensions and disparities make that suspect. That’s what Lindelof and company want to get at in this, and their focus on the 1921 Tulsa ravaging of the black community that gets the son of one of the perpetrators hanged almost a century later, one who seems to have far more but overcome his father’s prejudices, it sets a tone for a show ready to touch a nerve, to challenge its audience, to get at the heart of current cultural divisions in this country.
It remains to be seen whether addressing those issues is enough to make up a compelling story, let alone one that carries the mantle of one of the definitive literary works of the twentieth century. Still, “It’s Summer” promises a series that takes its cues from the original Watchmen, but aims to emulate its spirit, not just its beats, which makes it worth seeing through beyond this first, solid but unspectacular outing.
Interesting is Verna often gives her victims a last chance out. Here she repeatedly tells Camille not to go in there.
So, I’m thinking at this point the seven deadly sins are a thing. Lust being Perry, envy being Camille.
"Fuck it, I got mine" was a great last line.
I'm going to miss this show when it's gone. It's been far from flawless, but what it has been, every single episode, is an obvious work of art. This entire series has been created in the service of such a unique artistic vision and has been given more license to hew close to its dictates than really any show that I can call to mind. It's eccentric, sometimes uncomfortably so, and yet for just once in my life that pattern of behavior hasn't been a form of pandering or an appeal to some "lowest common denominator" either. Hats off to the Kings for having the guts to make The Good Fight and the street cred to get CBS to pay for it; hats off to the cast and crew who saw something in it that was worth their time (especially Baranski, McDonald and Lindo, heavyweights all); and hats off to you, my fellow viewers, for congregating in sufficient numbers to let this little experiment persist for six wild and wacky seasons, pandemic notwithstanding—let's hope this final season ends up being the curtain call that we all deserve.
this is the gayest show I've ever seen and ITS AMAZING
kirk and the girl was kinda creepy
I love the concept. Natasha Lyonne is my hero.
Coming to this show very late in the game and not knowing what to expect. Definitely didn't call crying 4 eps in! Very well executed
how the hell are we hearing AI's thought process? :D so producers are only picking the answer and typing that to chat? yeah im not buying this. cheapest twist.
Oh wow that immediate regret on Anne's face when she slept with Mariana.
I do love seeing Anne empowered in a business setting. She's been such an inspiration for me while progressing my career in a male dominated industry.
[8.4/10] I'd speculated about how Kim would depart Jimmy's world. I feared she might be killed. I thought she'd get fed up with his misdeeds and leave him over that. What I didn't expect was that it would be spurred by a moment of self-recognition born of a terrible tragedy. Kim still loves Jimmy, but she recognizes that they're "poison" together, that they get off on the joint cons, and that when they do, people get hurt. She is one of the vanishingly small number of people in this franchise to recognize that she's on a destructive path and take drastic action to stop it. It's one of the most unexpected, but ultimately satisfying ways to have her exit I can imagine.
And it puts her in good company. Jimmy is as horrified by what happened as Kim is, but he can envision moving on, he can picture maintaining this life despite where it led them, he can see forgetting this some day. Kim can't. It's the same way Gus cannot forget his former partner Max, someone he loves, whose memory lingers with him when he gazes into Don Eladio's pool and holds him back from continuing to flirt with the handsome waiter who chats him up over a glass of a wine. It's the same way Mike cannot forget his son, which leads him to tell Nacho's father the truth about what happened to his child.
Mr. Varga shrugs off Mike's promise that justice will be done, recognizing that what he's talking about is vengeance. He declares that vengeance is a cycle that doesn't stop, and we know from Breaking Bad that he's right. Gus hasn't beaten the Salamancas or Don Eladio. Mike hasn't completed his tour of duty so that he can retire and spend time with his granddaughter. Jimmy can't avoid crossing paths with the cartel again. They're all in this now, and their victories bring them no peace, only pull them deeper into the muck of this, and closer to their ignoble ends.
But Kim breaks away. She cannot forget, but she can act to stop this from happening again. Her final scene with Jimmy (for now at least) is more quietly heartbreaking than explosive and dramatic, but that suits the gravity of this. And in her absence, Jimmy is free to become Saul, as an indeterminate time jump to the man in his huckster faux-finery confirms. The last thing holding Jimmy back is gone. Saul Goodman is here. He can't stop. And despite the woman in his bed, the bedraggled secretary on his phone, and the crowd of people in his waiting room, he is alone.
EDIT: If you'd like to read my usual, longer review, you can find it here -- https://thespool.net/reviews/tv-recap-better-call-saul-season-6-episode-9/
[9.8/10] What an episode! It's hard to imagine an hour of television that could draw out the differences between Jimmy and Kim better than this one.
In the wake of Howard's death and all the sins she committed and enabled, Kim numbs herself in a colorless world of banal conversations and empty experiences. Everything about her day-to-date life is colorless and dull, resigning herself to a sort of limbo as both penance and protection from inflicting anymore wrongs on the world. And even there, she won't make any decisions, offer any opinions, as though she's afraid that making any choice will lead her down another bad road.
Until Gene intervenes, balks at her command to turn himself in, and tells her to do that if she's so affronted by what they did. And holy hell, she does! If there was ever an indicator of moral fortitude in the Gilliverse, it's that. The courage of your convictions it takes to have gotten away with it, lived years away from the worst things you've ever done, and still choose to return to the place where it happened and accept your punishment, legal, moral, or otherwise, is absolutely incredible. Rhea Seehorn kills it, especially as Kim comes crumbling apart on an airport shuttle, amid all the hard truths she set aside for so long coming back in one painful rush. It's a tribute to Seehorn, and to Kim, how pained and righteous Kim seems in willfully choosing to confess and suffer whatever fate comes down, unlike anyone else in Better Call Saul or Breaking Bad.
It makes her the polar opposite of Gene, who finds new depths of terribleness as the noose tightens around him. As he continues the robbery of the cancer-stricken man whose house he broke into in the last episode, he finds new lows. Even when this risky excess has worked out for him, he pushes things even further by stealing more luxury goods as time runs out. He nearly smashes in the guy's skull with an urn for his own dead pet. He bails on Jeff. And when Marion finds him out, he advances on her with such a physical threat, a dark echo of the kindness to senior citizens that once defined his legal career.
The contrast is clear. Kim will turn herself in even when she doesn't have to and has excuses and justifications she could offer. Gene resorts to ever more cruelty, fraud, and craven self-interest to save himself from facing any of the consequences he so richly deserves. Kim is right to tell Jesse Pinkman that Saul used to be good, when she knew him. The two of them will understand better than anyone else in this universe what it's like to attach yourself to someone who sheds everything that made them a decent human being. Jimmy lost the part of himself that was good, or kind, or noble, even amid his cons. But Kim held onto her moral convictions, and it's what makes her not just Jimmy's foil, but the honorable counterpoint to the awful person he became.
EDIT: Here's a link to my usual more in-depth review of the episode if anyone's interested -- https://thespool.net/reviews/better-call-saul-season-6-episode-12-recap/
[8.2/10] What a blast this is. I’m impressed both at how well WandaVision is able to replicate the 1950s sitcom vibe, especially for supernatural-themed comedies like Bewitched mixed with The Dick van Dyke show, while also including a subtle but palpable sense of existential terror beneath the three camera confines of the show.
I really enjoy how this first episode plays on the classic sitcom tropes: a couple not remembering an important date on the calendar, a wacky neighbor, a boss coming over for dinner who needs to be impressed. The show does a nice spin on them, while also feeling true to the sitcoms it’s paying homage to. I’m particularly stunned by the cast, who are able to replicate that acting style, and the editors and other behind the scenes craftsmen, who are able to replicate the rhythm, to such perfection.
What’s neat is that the episode works pretty perfectly separate and apart from its larger MCU connections as a solid old school sitcom pastiche. There’s a lot of nice setup and payoffs of gags, like Wanda repurposing a magazine's “Ways to please your man” article to distract her husband’s boss and his wife, or Vision singing “Yakety Yak” after decrying it earlier. Even the lobster door knocker routine was a fun and comical grace note to an earlier bit. As cornball as it is, there’s something charming about this sort of thing, right down to the “What do we actually do here?” gag about the computer company. And despite the light spoofing at play, this works as a solid meat and potatoes sitcom episode.
But the show goes a step further and has real fun with the fact that its leads are a self-described witch and a magical mechanical man respectively. There’s tons of amusing gags, starting with the intro, about the pair using their powers in trifling 1950s household sorts of ways. At the same time, it does well with the jokes about hiding their true identities. Vision writing off Wanda’s behavior as “European”, Wanda reassuring her neighbor that her husband is human, and Vision taking offense when a coworker tells him he’s a “walking computer” are all entertaining bits that make the most of the weird premise.
And yet, what really elevates this episode is the unnerving hints that there’s something terribly wrong going on here. It’s not hard to guess that after the events of Endgame, there’s still concerns about what happened to vision. The show plays with the melodic rhythms of the sitcom form to suggest something off at the edges here, in a really sharp way.
For instance, there’s an interstitial commercial featuring a Stark toaster, and not only does it feature the only bit of color in the black and white presentation with the beeping light, but the toasting takes just a beat too long for comfort. Likewise, the fact that Wanda and Vision can’t remember their story or how they got married is initially played for laughs, but then it becomes creepy when Mrs. Hart demands answers.
The peak of this comes when Mr. Hart chokes on his broccoli and the artifice freezes for a moment, leaving everyone paralyzed by the departure from how things work in this sort of situation. It’s a great piece of work, of a piece with the likes of Twin Peaks and Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared in its quiet horror.
I’ll refrain from speculating about who’s watching the broadcast we see or who’s in the monitoring room we seem to have an eye on, but the hints at what's really going on, and how that influences the images the audience witnesses, creates a great organic mystery and another layer to the proceedings.
Overall, this is a boffo debut for the series, and I’m excited to watch more!
[7.5/10] I wondered to myself, what was the point of those Breaking Bad flashbacks. Sure, it's cool to see Walt and Jesse and the RV and even the flat bottom flask again. But I was ready to write off the trip back to Saul's first meeting with the meth-dealers in season 2 of Breaking Bad as simple fan service.
It took the scene with Mike for me to get it. The point, at least on my read, is a theme that Better Call Saul has hit time and again -- Saul can't leave well enough alone. He won't listen to Mike that this chemistry teacher is a rank amateur who's going to end up with a dark result. And Gene won't listen to Jeff or his friend who warn that it's a bad idea to darken the doorstep of another poor man stricken with cancer.
We know how things end for Saul in Breaking Bad. The choice to throw in with Walter White rather than be satisfied with his rewarding, if not exactly classy law practice ultimately ruins him, and takes away everything he'd achieved in the years before and after the events of this series. The choice to cast aside any moral hesitation and callously rob a dying man of his finances, to push the bounds of the pragmatic given how long it takes between when they dosed the guy and when Gene tries to complete the deed, will almost certainly lead to a similarly bad end.
Yes, it's neat to flashback and see some of the old faces from Breaking Bad again. It's cool to learn that Huell made it out and see Francesca get one last payday. But the takeaway is simple. Saul lost everything. He has no more fortune or empire. The cops are still after him. His former allies are either dead or have moved on. And even Kim, who asked about him, seems to want nothing to do with him anymore, via a tantalizingly opaque phone call between her and Gene.
So left with no other options, Gene makes the same choice that Slippin' Jimmy did over and over again. He goes back to running scams. He can't leave well enough alone. He does it without any joy, because he's not doing this out of pleasure. He's doing it out of desperation, addition, sadness, and loneliness. He is scraping the last bit of thrill from the bottom of the jar, and if his star-crossed visit to Walter White is any indication, it's likely to be the last step in his sad, pitiable, but always avoidable fall from grace.
EDIT: Here's my usual, more fulsome review for anyone who's interested -- https://thespool.net/reviews/tv/tv-recap-better-call-saul-season-6-episode-11/
[8.0/10] I am amazed that Better Call Saul can still be this tense, and this much fun, when there's nothing that big at stake. Yes, Cinnabon Gene still needs to protect his identity, and things could go terribly wrong if Frank the security guard found out about his involvement in this crime. But by god, at heart, this is just about stealing a minor pile of fancy-ish clothes from a Nebraska department store, and somehow it's still a total thrillride.
I think it speaks to how perfectly the show's creative team knows what they're doing at this late hour. They could make pretty much anything simultaneously exciting and meaningful. There is some inherent juice to the fact that this is the first time we've gotten a full-blown Gene Takovic episode. And it does tie off a few loose ends from the show like the cab driver who identified him as Saul or the security guard whose shoplifting bust he disrupted. But for the most part, this is just a heist for the sake of heist, to show that even so far removed when when we left him in the past and even in Breaking Bad, Jimmy's still got it.
There's a few points of real meaning and resonance though. For one, I believe Jimmy when he talks to Frank (Jerry from Parks and Rec!) about how alone he is. He's using that sad truth to manipulate someone, but I think it's genuinely how he feels, and Jimmy has a history of using real feelings for false purposes. It's underscored by the fact that the title of the episode is just one word, not "____ and ____" like every other title this season. It's a formal way to show that after so long having Kim as a partner, Jimmy is alone.
I'm also struck by the fact that he basically dresses down Jeff and his other accomplice much the same way Mike did to him in "Point and Shoot", right down to him having the other schmucks repeat his line to make sure they understand. Jimmy is still a pro, even if he's been out of the game this long. And despite the fact that he seems to take such joy in the action, he's able to put the loud shirt and louder tie back on the rack at the end of the episode. Jimmy's never been able to stop himself, but after all of this, maybe he's finally got a hold of himself.
There's still three episodes to go, and almost limitless possibilities for where the series could go from here. But it seems like Jimmy has found a tiny bit of peace and security after one last heist, at least for the time being. It's amazing that after all this drama and all this death, something so comparatively low stakes can still be such a thrill.
EDIT: Here's a link to my usual, longer review in case anyone's interested -- https://thespool.net/reviews/tv-recap-better-call-saul-season-6-episode-10/
Can't believe this episode ended with them hugging and absolutely nothing else happened after that.
In all seriousness, I thought we as a society were over killing sapphic characters for shock value, but I guess not. What a disappointing conclusion to a horrible season. Phoebe Waller-Bridge created such a fantastic show and Sandra Oh and Jodie Comer consistently knocked their performances out of the park, and for what? Season 2 was already a letdown, but after that the show just became a parody of itself and it was clear the new showrunners had no idea what to do with these characters. The last 3 minutes of this ep were pure clownery. How groundbreaking to kill off one of the leads and leave the other in anguish. I hope Laura Neal doesn't cut herself on all that edge.
I guess at least Sandra got a Golden Globe, Jodie got an Emmy, and they got to dive tongue first into each other's mouths. Good for them. I hope their next projects treat them better.
Ralphie is dead. Can't say I saw that one coming. I also can't say that I saw how he would be humanized. Few characters on The Sopranos are one-dimensional, but few seem as straightforward as Ralphie. He's a shit. That's kind of his character. He's a guy who gets away with all his bad behavior because he's good at his job. We all know the type. But little-by-little, the show peeled layers away from him that made him more vulnerable, less of a monster, and it culminated here right before he dies.
He has quirks in the bedroom. Like so many others on this show, he has mommy issues. He has a son whom he loves enough to be clearly devastated after an accident leaves the son severely injured on Ralphie's watch. He apologizes to Rosalee for how he acted now that he knows what it's like to have something terrible happen to a child. He donates money in Jackie Jr.'s honor. He proposes. He breaks down in tears. Maybe this isn't the monster we thought.
Or maybe it is. Paulie is clearly jealous of the place Ralphie holds in Tony's inner circle as an earner, even if Tony himself isn't terribly fond of the guy. Ralphie is the man who sends Paulie's mom into hysterics when trying to take out his revenge on Paulie himself. He's a man who beats a young stripper to death. He's a man who, maybe, kills any number of innocent, majestic creatures because it makes financial sense.
I don't know if Ralphie or one of his soldiers set the fire that killed Pie-Oh-My. The scene gives hints that point in either direction. Ralphie denies it, convincingly, but we've seen him lie straightfaced before. He has the motive to do it though, and his comments to Tony could confirm that he did the deed. But in the end, it doesn't really matter. What matters is that Tony believes Ralphie did it. Tony felt a connection to a simple, beautiful animal in a way he struggles to do with his fellow man. He's seen Ralphie murder innocent creatures before, and this time, his anger boils over in private, without his colleagues to calm him down or hold him back.
It's one of the most breathtaking, nervewracking sequences of the show. The way these two oxes struggle with one another, the way two seasons' worth of frustrations and tension finally come to a head. And then, just as quickly, it's all over.
Nearly any other show would have ended the episode there. Instead, the second half of the episode is quiet, meditative, almost boring, but in a good way. When Tony calls Chris to come help him get rid of the body, it's not shocking, or dramatic, it's mundane. It's almost as though the "regularness of life" that Chris once spoke of extends even to the covering up of a brutal murder. Tony and Christopher prepare the body, they watch T.V., they obliquely talk about what happened and what it means. They bond, slowly and without fireworks.
This is an episode where the question of "whoever did this" matters less than the fact that it was done. There's undercurrents of blame when Ralphie's son Justin is injured, from Ralphie to the friend who shot the bow and arrow, from Ralphie's ex-wife who blames Ralphie for the lack of supervision, from Ralphie to the ex-wife for buying Justin the bow and arrow. But at the end of the day, Justin's injured and who did it doesn't really matter. When Junior is hit on the head by a boom mic, it has little to do with the Justice Department (negligence, maybe?) but Tony declares he'll sue them and they use it to get Junior's charges dropped or at least his trial postponed. Ralphie may have had his horse killed, or it may have been an accident, but the possibility is enough for him to take out his anger on Ralphie. And as far as the rest of the mobsters know, Tony may have taken out Ralphie (which, as Chris suggests, could send the wrong message) or it could have been any number of other people who Ralphie has pissed off over the years. (Again as Chris notes, Paulie is a likely suspect.)
"Whoever did this" is ambiguous. It prevents you from laying blame. It's a vague sense of a wrong being committed, and a futile pointing of fingers, when real justice, or real comeuppance, is hard to come by, or at least to understand, in the world of The Sopranos. But one thing is true, at the end of all of this, Tony is alone, in the dark, before he steps into a blinding light and the whole thing ends. Who knows what else is in store for him. Tony is complicated, angry, damaged, and often lonely individual, whoever did that to him.
Wasn't expecting this show to pull off a satisfying ending in the space of an episode but it did it.
Loved the reveal of that final loop and how they both realised what they needed to do. Also glad that they didn't take this in a romantic direction/conclusion. Yes the slept together once but it was just sex.
The latter section of the episode, with Alan and Nadia both resisting the help of the other. It reminds me of those intense friendships where there might be times when one pushes the other away. But they persist coz even though there is a bump now, you both know you're better with the other person in your life. If anything that's the message we should take away from this. If someone truly gives a shit, let them in. Coz it's rarer than you think...
The events in this episode made me angry for so many reasons. It illustrates perfectly why so many victims of sexual assault remain silent. There is no 'right' or 'common' way to react to this level of trauma...
One of the more simultaneously heartbreaking and hilarious episodes of the show. Everything involving Adrianna is horrible, and I felt so awful for the character, from the death of her dog, to Chris hitting her, to her telling Tony "please don't hurt him", to her speech at the intervention, to even her goodbye to him at the rehab center. Even Chris, who acted like a complete shitbag for most of the episode, especially to Adrianna, was pitiful in the hospital when he apologized to Tony and wondered how it came to this.
On the other hand, this collection of non-touchy/feely people coming together to try to do an intervention was expectedly hilarious. Of course all Silvio can say is that it was disgusting when Chris was throwing up. Of course Paulie can't understand the non-judgmental principle of the idea. Of course Chris starts shitting on everyone in the room including his mother. Of course it ends with people kicking the crap out of each other. It's sad in its own way as well, but it's also just ridiculous enough to be funny. The same goes for Paulie turning Tony into Napoleon (or, sorry -- not Napolean, like Napolean) in his painting.
But there's a real sense of realization of how bad things have gotten in this episode. "What kind of god would let this happen?" asks a tearful Tony Soprano. Contrast it with Svetlana, who's turned into one of the show's more indellible characters with few appearances. She tells Tony that Americans expect everything to be good and complain when things aren't perfect, whereas the rest of the world expects things to be bad and aren't disappointed. It's an interesting juxtaposition, but there's a clear atmosphere of the good times Tony and his crew and family have enjoyed starting to go down the tubes.
The same is true of his marriage, where Carmella and Furio are coming closer and closer to acting on their feelings for each other. It's an interesting juxtaposition of the two of them eating alone at the end of the episode. I'm not sure what to make of it exactly, but there's a sense that when Furio is making his own pasta, pouring his own wine, living with a little class whereas Tony's content to heat up cold rigatoni and drink milk, that Furio is what Tony used to be, that there's a vitality to him that may have been what attracted Carmella to Tony in the first place. But that sooner or later, that turns into this.
[7.5/10] You’d like to think that Kim knows right from wrong. She tries, or at least tried, to hold Jimmy back from his worst impulses. She has regrets over the lengths he goes to on her behalf and the people he hurts in the process. She genuinely fights for the little guy, giving up a lucrative practice to provide top notch legal services to those who can’t typically afford it. She turns over unhelpful evidence to prosecutors because it’s the right thing to do. She is, in a world of hucksters and crime lords, a good person.
But she didn’t have the best role model growing up. In some ways she’s the opposite of Saul. The young Jimmy McGill watched his scrupulous-to-a-fault father and saw the sucker he never wanted to become. The young Kim Wexler watched her unreliable screw-up of a mother and saw a cautionary tale that set her on the straight and narrow. And yet, whether we want it or not, whether we rebel or not, parts of the people who raise us seep into our future selves and can’t help but influence who we become.
So when “Axe and Grind” opens with a flashback, we see a miniature ruse pulled off by Kim’s mom. Beth Hoyt cuts an incredible vocal and physical likeness of Rhea Seehorn, which adds force to the way the elder Ms. Wexler’s false protestations to get her daughter off the hook pave the way for Kim’s later skullduggery. The chance to instill some morals is lost, the dressing down a facade. It ends with a mother who seems proud of her daughter’s coloring outside of the line, who shoplifts the earrings Kim was caught for swiping as a reward, and who tells her only child that it’s all okay, so long as she gets away with it.
There’s not much in the way of a grand unifying theme to “Axe and Grind.” As a prelude to the mid-season finale, it is more of a tapestry, a chance to check-in with all the major players and move the pieces into place for next week’s “D-Day.” But it represents one more choice for Kim, one opportunity to vindicate the moral best that she’s capable of, or to decide that vengeance masquerading as justice is more important. Given the tragic nature of the show, it’s hard to guess which one she’ll pick.
But along the way, we get a chance to see glimpses of other major characters and storylines moving apace. My favorite is Mike watching his granddaughter and daughter-in-law from afar, refusing Tyus’ insinuation that he should remove the hired protection he has watching their house. It’s a reminder of what Mike is doing this for, the reason he got into business with someone as cold-hearted as Gus Fring, and what he’s unwilling to sacrifice in the name of getting the job done.
There’s a grim efficiency to Mike, a cool competency in scenarios that would rattle the best of us. But it’s counterbalanced by the heart of the man, his connection to his loved ones and loved ones past who were hurt by their association with him, the type of loss he never wants to see happen again.
Speaking of Gus, the head of the Fring organization doesn’t appear in this episode, but Giancarlo Esposito is in the directing chair. It’s a great outing for him and the team, with sharply-composed shots that are not showy, but come with a visual panache that makes less-than-explosive scenes still hold the viewer’s focus. The performers all do strong work, and it speaks to how naturally the show’s castmembers have shifted into directing when the opportunity arises.
Of course, none can top Saul Goodman when it comes to directing, and in this final season, we get one more return for his makeshift film crew! It’s nice to see the trio in action as part of Kim and Jimmy’s scheme with the mediator, and it’s nearly as nice to see another Mr. Show alum, John Ennis, make a cameo. For all the grand moral questions and lethal encounters among drug runners features in Better Call Saul, there’s a supreme joy and comedy to seeing Saul orchestrating his audio-visual masterpieces. There’s an alternate universe where he’s an under-the-radar but industry-lauded force behind the camera, and not the conman-turned-jurist-turned conman we know and love.
But if that were the case, who knows what would become of Francesca, Saul’s assistant, interior decorator, and reluctant accomplice. It’s nice to see her get a little bit of shading, showing genuine excitement to see Kim again and genuine enthusiasm for her chance to redecorate Saul’s office. Only the depths of what she’s committed to soon become apparent, as the her boss’s clientele wreaks havoc on her upholstery and “water features”, while the man himself makes her complicit in his dirty deeds re Sandpiper. We know from Breaking Bad that she continues to hitch her wagon to Saul’s train, but it’s easy to see how her enthusiasm wanes amid such...difficult circumstances.
Still, her unfortunate circumstances are nothing compared to the ones now facing one of Werner Ziegler’s “boys.” Lalo uses the gift from last week to track him down in the middle of the German wilderness, and seems poised to interrogate him in a half-Audition, half-Misery situation.
I’ll confess, the Lalo sections of Better Call Saul often feel like they come from another show. I really enjoy Tony Dalton’s performance, and there’s a shark-like menace to Lalo that makes him a formidable opponent for sharp players like Gus, Mike, and Nacho. But sometimes he seems larger-than-life in a way that's out of step with the show: Spider-Manning his way through a ceiling, sneaking out a suburban window without detection, and besting a hired good holding an ax with little more than a hidden razor blade. I prefer seeing characters in this universe succeed thanks to their wits or their determination, not via incredible physical feats, and Lalo’s had more of the latter of late.
Still, there is some down to earth trouble to deal with in “Axe and Grind”. The episode goes out of its way to make Howard seem sympathetic before Kim and Jimmy unleash their plan to ruin him. We watch the lengths he goes to in order to prepare the perfect, nigh-literal peace offering of a cappuccino for his wife, who callously dumps his artistic coffee creation into a travel mug. Her casual aloofness for how much Howard is trying to accommodate her, to have her care about him, to see that he’s trying, only to be politely but coldly rebuffed at every turn is quietly heartbreaking. It is a reminder that there are layers to each of these characters, struggles each is going through beyond what Saul and Kim are privy to, that make us wonder if Hamlin deserves the full-fledged ruination that waits for him, no matter what mistakes he may have made in the past.
Kim is the author of that ruination (with Jimmy’s buy-in and assistance of course), but she may not be there to see it happen. Clifford Main shows up to watch her argument and offers her possible entry into a significant equal access to justice program that only sterling “up-and-comers” gain admission to. He probes whether she might have something to do with Howard’s protestations of interference from Jimmy and his allies, but she says the right things, speaking highly of Howard and HHM in a way that reassures Clifford nothing’s afoot.
The most wholesome moment in a less-than-wholesome episode comes with Jimmy’s genuine excitement for his wife at hearing the news, and encouragement that Kim be excited to. They kiss. They celebrate. They tell one another that Kim need not be there for the events that will destroy Howard Hamlin. She can have both. Kim can be the crusader for justice who travels to Santa Fe to rub elbows with the biggest names in legal aid, and she can mastermind a scheme to take down a professional rival and white shoe jerk in Albuquerque.
Except she can’t. In one of those coincidences that shouldn’t work, but clicks because it works against our heroes rather than for them, Jimmy goes to buy a celebratory bottle of tequila, the same kind he and Kim scammed Ken Wins out of in season 2. Only he spots the actual mediator for Sandpiper, who’s sporting a full cast, an unforeseen wrinkle that will destroy the plausibility of the staged photos necessary for their plan.
Saul winces in defeat. He calls Kim en route to her big pro bono meeting and tells her it’s time to pull the plug and live to fight another day. Kim has a choice. She can keep driving and decide that this opportunity to do right by the underserved who’d be helped by the resources she could marshal in Cliff’s organization, or she can turn around and try to put out this fire. She can take extreme measures to bring down one man or do some professional pitching to help countless.
In an earlier scene, Kim and Jimmy run into the veterinarian who’s helped Jimmy and Mike find jobs in the past. They need to secure some chemical assistance to help pull off their latest ploy. But in the process, they find out that he’s giving up his life as a black market gatekeeper, devoting himself to his real work full time. Jimmy’s aghast that he would sell his “little black book” (which features a business card for a certain vacuum company), a source of low-risk, high-yield passive income. Kim retorts that it doesn’t matter when you know what you want.
Kim’s given up quite a bit to choose the life that she has. She gave up the associate grind at HHM to find some place she could fly higher. She gave up great progress and recognition at Schweikart & Cokely to pursue her pro bono work full time. She has repeatedly given up the life of traditional traditional success in order to pursue a higher calling, a greater type of justice, than she could achieve greasing the wheels for Mesa Verde or climbing the corporate ladder. She wanted those things, and she sacrificed quite a bit in service of that calling.
But she also knows the kind of skills she can deploy elsewhere when she needs or want to. She saw in her mother how to sell moral indignation as a cover for getting what you desired in the first place scot free. She saw how to break the rules and earn a measure of approbation for not getting caught.
Kim Wexler knows right from wrong. She genuinely wants justice and equity for the people she represents and thousands more who deserve a fighting chance. But at the end of the day, she knows what she wants, and she wants Howard Hamlin’s head more.
I really enjoyed the contrasts in this episode in comparison to the first. Imagine the results of the first case if just one of them understood victimology a bit more...
