I’m only
now recovering from the television programming that ran from March 16th
to March 23rd and even now I’m not quite sure I can articulate how
much the three episodes of my favorite television programs unnerved me. If you’re not caught up to at least those
dates, do not read on [SPOILERS].
A weekly
dose of death is somewhat expected on The
Walking Dead. And violence is not
exactly uncommon on Scandal. But The
Good Wife is usually pretty tame in that regard. If I had to pick shows off my DVR queue that
I think are pretty safe (and not prone to launch me into a deep depression), Good Wife usually ranks near the top. Not so much last week. At the end of the March 23rd
episode, “Dramatics, Your Honor,” the show killed off one of its main
characters, Will Gardner (Josh Charles).
For those following the behind-the-scenes gossip (and I was not one
those people), this might have been less shocking as Charles was one of the
only actors who had not been secured into a six-year contract – his contract
expired this season. But regardless, the
finality of his exit was unexpected, after all he’s the “Gardner” of
Lockhart/Gardner (the firm that originated as the prime focus of the show) and
he’s a third of the love triangle that drives one of the major subplots of the
show. As someone who studies narrative
arches on television shows, in retrospect, this shocking episode was
deliberately set up for by the episode that preceded it where Alicia Florrick
(Julianna Margulies) reminisced on her re-entry into law and, hence, her relationship
with Will. The scenes leading up to his
shocking death further set up for his departure. Although they had been sworn enemies for most
of the season, Alicia and Will arrived at a sort of truce and she went out of
her way to show professional courtesy to him when the father of his murder
victim (the one who would ultimately kill him) was seeking a second opinion on
the case. In their last exchange, Alicia
called him the better attorney and he agreed with a smile, to which she
retorted that he was the more humble too.
The comic banter and friendly exchange resurrected the old image of the
two of them and gave viewers one last glimpse of the couple’s chemistry – the sexual
tension and friendship that drove the show for so many seasons. And then they killed him. Besides for being sad at the loss of a
character I really enjoyed, I’m sad because I think without the prerequisite “will
they/won’t they” storyline that was Alicia and Will, the show may be off the
air within two seasons… but time will tell.
The
March 20th episode of Scandal wasn’t
as shocking. The “death” had come at the
end of the prior week only we didn’t know which of the relatively important
minor characters was going to be written off the show. (Although since the “shot” took place off
camera I’m sure many viewers were hoping we weren’t actually going to
experience a death but rather the good ole’ televisual fake out). In “Kiss
Kiss Bang Bang,” viewers learn that the character who dies was James Novak (Dan
Bucatinsky), Cyrus’s husband and the President’s Press Secretary. I have so much to say about this episode and the
way in which this show might be a Post-post-9/11
in the ways in which it blatantly critiques the extremes the United States will
go to in the name of homeland security (or in this case, the perseverance of “The
Republic”). So I’m going to save most of
that for another post. But what I will
say was while this episode didn’t shock me, it depressed me. Of the three depressing episodes full of
death and darkness, this was the one that actually brought me to tears. The episode built slowly around the mourning
of Cyrus Beene (Jeff Perry). As the plot
unfolded in its normal fast pace, Cyrus was slowly remembering his relationship
with James and his struggles to come to terms first with his own sexuality and
later with his public acknowledgment of his partnership. Just as viewers get to witness Cyrus’s first
moment of acceptance – in which he finally grants James’s wish to attend a
presidential ball – happily dancing with him despite unaccepting onlookers –
this happy narrative moment is juxtaposed with Cyrus’s emotional
unraveling. Until this point he had
dealt with James’s death as he does almost everything, with business-like precision
and nerves of steel. But on the podium
in front of the media, he crumples and it was his explosion into tears that
sparked my own.
While
these episodes were sad, The Walking Dead
episode, “The Grove,” which preceded them in the week, was downright disturbing. This season has been an anomaly
of sorts. At the heart of each season
has been a temporary moment of utopia featuring a safe haven where the survivors
formed a community of sorts: first on
the outskirts of Atlanta in the camp, then on the farm, and then in the
prison. When the prison was breeched at
the end of season three, the group was fragmented and this season has instead
showed oddly paired survivors each trying to survive in much smaller
groups. Despite being a rather glum
season, the show has still given viewers these brief moments of community
building: Rick, Carl, and Michonne
setting up house together; Beth and Daryl drinking moonshine together on the
porch of a house they would soon torch; etc.
These were always fleeting. The
momentary happiness and safety the characters found was always shattered (by
walkers or scavengers) and soon enough they were all on their pilgrimage again. The episode in question, however, highlighted
this practice of teasing viewers with a safe haven only to destroy it like none
other has to date.
In “The
Grove,” Carol, Tyreese, Lizzie, Mika, and baby Judith eventually find temporary
shelter in a little country house protected by a wire fence. It is almost tranquil. They bake pecans, sit by a fire, and Mika
plays with a toy doll she has found on the property. Tyreese and Carol even contemplate staying
for a while. Of course, like most
viewers, I had no doubt this happy little household was bound to be rocked by a
tragedy. The foreshadowing was thick:
Mika was going to die. This was
first hinted at when Carol was talking about her deceased daughter, Sophia, who
“had not had a mean bone in her body.”
The parallels to Mika were obvious but they would be reinforced when
Carol would say this exact statement again to Tyreese when expressing his worry
about the two girls (that Mika was too weak to survive in such a world and that
Lizzie just didn’t understand it – as seen in many scenes in the episode where
she fed zombies, attempted to play tag with them, and cried at their demise). I was preparing myself for what I thought
would happen: Lizzie’s inability to view
the walkers as not human would lead to a dangerous situation where her sister
would die. And the show did a nice fake
out, giving us just this. She caused a
situation, zombies attacked, but the group prevailed (and Lizzie even picked up
a gun and shot them). This scene was
like the magician’s artistry of misdirection.
Not long
after this Carol and Tyreese return from the woods to find Lizzie holding a
bloody knife over her sister’s dead body.
As they look on at horror, she tells them that it’s all right because
she didn’t damage her head. She has
killed Mika to prove that she can come back to life and still be herself. Lizzie then admits that she was just about to
do the same to Judith. Everything that
happens next is equally disturbing.
Carol is forced to stab Mika in the brain so she will not turn, Tyreese
protectively keeps Judith away from Lizzie, and the two eventually discuss what
to do next. It is Carol who, again,
makes the hard decision for the greater good.
She says that Lizzie cannot be under the same roof as the baby; moreover,
she cannot be around people. Ultimately Carol must lead Lizzie out to the
pasture and ask her to look at the beautiful flowers as she fires a bullet
through her head. Unsurprisingly, the
house then loses its appeal as the horrible deaths of the young girls has
tainted it. The episode closes with
Carol, Tyreese, and Judith again on the road.
After
all of these episodes I had a discussion with a colleague of mine in which we
debated about whether television’s reversal of the “thou shall not kill your
main characters” rule had suddenly become overdone – if TV shows were now just
killing characters for the shock factor and the ability to advertise their next
episode as a “must watch” or “the most shocking episode ever.” While I think this is largely the case, there
might be more to it in the case of The
Walking Dead.
Many
have criticized the dark swing occurring in television programming. However, others have claimed that dark shows
like The Walking Dead and Dexter are new narrative spaces where we
are posing important questions about human nature and ethics. They are our modern day morality plays. Dystopian narratives set in post-apocalyptic
environments usually do just this, so The
Walking Dead is not an exception.
However, the fact that so many of the storylines concerning ethical
choices rests upon a main female character is interesting.
In an
earlier post, I noted that I thought the show might be policing Carol’s gender
performance, punishing her for acting in more “masculine” ways. I think I need to revisit that argument not
long after making it. After all, she
doesn’t get punished at the close of the episode when she admits to Tyreese
that she was the one that killed his love interest, Karen, and David in her
attempt to protect the group at large.
The show may very well be critiquing gender roles or suggesting that in
post-apocalyptic settings they have no place and meaning. In this episode although Carol is again cast
in a motherly role (both in caring for the Samuel sisters and Judith, and in
briefly discussing her daughter), but she is also shown doing what is thought
to be impossible (by any human, let alone a “mother” figure): killing a child.
Some
have asked whether the show has now gone too far and I actually don’t think
so. I don’t think that this was episode
was just meant to have shock value. I
think, as is true of the season at large, it is asking us to think consider the
answer to some pretty dark questions:
what would you do to survive in such grim circumstances; what would you
do to protect those you love in such a world; and is there really any
definitive moral conclusions as to which behaviors and choices are “wrong” and “right”
in such conditions?
I’ve put
off returning to all three of these shows since these dark moments and tonight
I’ll finally pick up my DVR remotes and dive back in, knowing that it can’t get
any darker than it did in mid-March. Or
can it?