"You pay or she pays..."
Al Swearengen is truly the puppetmaster in this penultimate episodes, pulling all sorts of strings. We begin with him bribing Silas Adams to make his judge go away, and it is he who ultimately decides on a dodgy new sheriff- although he later seems to warm to the idea of Seth. He has worrying designs on the increasingly unwell Reverend. His jealousy at Sol when he finds he's been sleeping with Trixie on a non-commercial basis is solved by his asserting his "rights" as pimp.And yet this, along with the judge's warrant over his head, could be the harbinger of the potential threat to his position of the coming of civilisation and annexation. In controlling the process, can he control the threat?
Less clever is Alma's dodgy father, who is after her claim but is seen through by all, although he explicitly gives his blessing to her and Seth, of whom he approves, in full knowledge that Seth's wife and ward are coming. Ominously, too, Tolliver gets the surviving junkie to spread racist rumours about the Chinese, rumours that reflect badly on Swearengen, our antihero.
Yet it's not all theme and simmering plot threads: poor Jewel and the Doc get a lovely scene. As we approach the end it becomes clearer and clearer just how finely crafted this first season has been. This is first class television.
Showing posts with label Paula Malcomson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paula Malcomson. Show all posts
Tuesday, 11 August 2020
Monday, 3 August 2020
Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 9- No Other Sons or Daughters
"Taking people’s money is what makes organizations real, be they formal, informal or temporary."
So annexation is coming- and it terrifies Al, much as he simultaneously longs for it. Like all the other businessmen, he craves respectability but, unlike some, is less keen on the responsibilities that flow from that. He dominates this episode, at once insecure and firmly in charge, with most of the best lines, but it's about so much more than him.
The episode centres around the meeting, on Al's territory, in which they all try to form a kind of proto-government. It may be laughable that E.B. is appointed mayor, but ths is ultimately how such thngs happen, in microcosm. Farnum may be the face of government, but Al is the unseen power behind the throne. And it is the public, of course, the little people, who are to be manipulated into paying the necessary bribes. This is extremely clever telly.
Other things happen, of course- the Reverend is clearly unwell, and it will be interesting to see where this is going. Poor, likeable Jane is drunk again and, for now, leaving town, full of thinly disguised self-loathing. Meanwhile, her friend Charlie is setting up as a postmaster- and has an interesting meeting with Joanie. Cy, meanwhile, is somewhat sensitive to having overstepped the mark last episode. And his henchman, Eddie, seems to be revealed as our first overtly gay character. Then there's the ever-present dance between Bullock and Alma.
This feels like a real community, and is offcially about to become one. This continues to be extraordinary relly.
So annexation is coming- and it terrifies Al, much as he simultaneously longs for it. Like all the other businessmen, he craves respectability but, unlike some, is less keen on the responsibilities that flow from that. He dominates this episode, at once insecure and firmly in charge, with most of the best lines, but it's about so much more than him.
The episode centres around the meeting, on Al's territory, in which they all try to form a kind of proto-government. It may be laughable that E.B. is appointed mayor, but ths is ultimately how such thngs happen, in microcosm. Farnum may be the face of government, but Al is the unseen power behind the throne. And it is the public, of course, the little people, who are to be manipulated into paying the necessary bribes. This is extremely clever telly.
Other things happen, of course- the Reverend is clearly unwell, and it will be interesting to see where this is going. Poor, likeable Jane is drunk again and, for now, leaving town, full of thinly disguised self-loathing. Meanwhile, her friend Charlie is setting up as a postmaster- and has an interesting meeting with Joanie. Cy, meanwhile, is somewhat sensitive to having overstepped the mark last episode. And his henchman, Eddie, seems to be revealed as our first overtly gay character. Then there's the ever-present dance between Bullock and Alma.
This feels like a real community, and is offcially about to become one. This continues to be extraordinary relly.
Monday, 20 July 2020
Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 8- Suffer the Little Children
"You might, Dan, want to learn how to indicate interest in a girl other than murdering another person."
Another dense, complex yet warchable, well-shot and well-acted episode doesn't surprise me at this point. It's 200's HBO, its a literary novel in the medium of television, it's bloody good. You're expecting me to say this.
Even so, I can't help but admire the structuring of the storyteling here. The main plotline here is probably young sublings Flora and Miles, who turn out to be cleverly manipulative thieves, and are both caught and killed, after much roughing up, by Cy. It's a hard word. And that Anna from Frozen has quite the potty mouth.
And yet there's so much more. Al's relationship with Trixie (attempting suicide, much to the gult of Alma after last episode) is shown at full force complexity here, very much mirrored by Joanie and Cy, whose own relationship clearly has many layers. More generally, the smallpox vaccine finally reaches camp, as well as rumours of a possible treaty with the Sioux. Could law and civilisation be coming?
Yet the mot fascnating thread is that of Alma, persuaded by Bullock to stay after he discovers her claim has promise. And above it all is the fascinating Al Swearengen, forever playing a prticularly potty-mouthed type of three dimensional chess, leaving E.B. struggling to keep up. He's an utterly fascinating character.
Another dense, complex yet warchable, well-shot and well-acted episode doesn't surprise me at this point. It's 200's HBO, its a literary novel in the medium of television, it's bloody good. You're expecting me to say this.
Even so, I can't help but admire the structuring of the storyteling here. The main plotline here is probably young sublings Flora and Miles, who turn out to be cleverly manipulative thieves, and are both caught and killed, after much roughing up, by Cy. It's a hard word. And that Anna from Frozen has quite the potty mouth.
And yet there's so much more. Al's relationship with Trixie (attempting suicide, much to the gult of Alma after last episode) is shown at full force complexity here, very much mirrored by Joanie and Cy, whose own relationship clearly has many layers. More generally, the smallpox vaccine finally reaches camp, as well as rumours of a possible treaty with the Sioux. Could law and civilisation be coming?
Yet the mot fascnating thread is that of Alma, persuaded by Bullock to stay after he discovers her claim has promise. And above it all is the fascinating Al Swearengen, forever playing a prticularly potty-mouthed type of three dimensional chess, leaving E.B. struggling to keep up. He's an utterly fascinating character.
Thursday, 2 July 2020
Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 7- Bullock Returns to the Camp
"We understand each other..."
This episode introduces a teenage brother and sister arriving in camp (interesting that word is used instead of "town", given the settlement's ambiguous and provisional status), both forlornly looking for a missing father and, of course, for work. The girl, courtesy of Cy and under Joanie's tutelage, is starting out as a prostitute. And she's played by the actress who would later go on to voice Anna in Frozen, Little Miss Llamastrangler's favourite Disney film...
Anyway, more splendid character and world building is in evidence here. Bullock and Utter have bonded, and together they take a drunken Jack McCall- to face justice, interestingly, and not revenge. Deadwood may be lawless, but I think this is a harbinger of the inevitable; law and order is coming. Revenge must be tempered by justice, a viewpoint as old as Aeschylus.
There is much drama surrounding Alma's claim- E.B., brave enough to confront Al Swearengen here, is still working for him, and pressing Alma hard. But the honourable Bullock has her interests at heart, and clashes with Al- the struggle between these two will, I expect, form the spine of the series.
Just as interesting is Al's complex relationship with Trixie, veering between mistrust and a curious trust born of a long hstory. Alma suddenly offends Trixie enormously when she clumsily asserts her class background. And the Reverend's seizures continue.Could his religious visions have a medical cause? Jane, too, continues to be compelling.
All this is masterfully woven, with such subtlety of character, such clear themes and with a real historical sense. I can't believe the season is more than halfway through. This is top telly.
This episode introduces a teenage brother and sister arriving in camp (interesting that word is used instead of "town", given the settlement's ambiguous and provisional status), both forlornly looking for a missing father and, of course, for work. The girl, courtesy of Cy and under Joanie's tutelage, is starting out as a prostitute. And she's played by the actress who would later go on to voice Anna in Frozen, Little Miss Llamastrangler's favourite Disney film...
Anyway, more splendid character and world building is in evidence here. Bullock and Utter have bonded, and together they take a drunken Jack McCall- to face justice, interestingly, and not revenge. Deadwood may be lawless, but I think this is a harbinger of the inevitable; law and order is coming. Revenge must be tempered by justice, a viewpoint as old as Aeschylus.
There is much drama surrounding Alma's claim- E.B., brave enough to confront Al Swearengen here, is still working for him, and pressing Alma hard. But the honourable Bullock has her interests at heart, and clashes with Al- the struggle between these two will, I expect, form the spine of the series.
Just as interesting is Al's complex relationship with Trixie, veering between mistrust and a curious trust born of a long hstory. Alma suddenly offends Trixie enormously when she clumsily asserts her class background. And the Reverend's seizures continue.Could his religious visions have a medical cause? Jane, too, continues to be compelling.
All this is masterfully woven, with such subtlety of character, such clear themes and with a real historical sense. I can't believe the season is more than halfway through. This is top telly.
Tuesday, 23 June 2020
Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 6- Plague
"Swearingen's a cue and Farnum merely is a billiard ball."
There's a lot happening in this episode besides the title. Alma continues to pretend to be a junkie still while undergoing cold turkey, fooling E.B., playing for time until seth returns. Seth, meanwhile, is attacked by an opportunistic Sioux, succeeds in killing him with a rock, and is ultimately rescued by Charlie Utter, who now learns of Bill's death. It now seems they are after Bill's killer, but it looks as though this plot thread is to simmer for a bit. Good strategic writing.
Jane is a fascinating character- very much not conforming to the archetype of a lady, acting in many ways like a man, portrayed here (and potentially in reality) as of possible LGBT nature, to use an anachronism; her sexuality and, indeed gender identity, is as ambiguous as one might expect in 1876.
But she is a fully rounded person- drunk to blot out the memory of her best friend's death, but having cared for what she knows full well was a amallpox sufferer at the end of last episode. She's uneducated, uncouth, unladylike, deeply racist as per her upbringing, but not unkind beneath it all.
Then there's Joanie, who seems a bit down- but could the harsh, cynical Cy Tolliver have a thing for her? This promises to be a subtle little character thread that could run and run. Again, good writing. And the Doc, a decent man, taking centre stage while Merrick, a stereotypical newspaperman, is upstaged by Al in reporting the arrival of smallpox.
The arrival of this pestilence in the settlement dominates the episode, which makes it resonate somewhat now in June of 2020. It leads to stage managed fear and, fascinatingly, a meeting of the great and the good in which both Al and Cy relish the role of community leader and both reconcile somewhat. And we see the Reverend Smith collapse- very publicly- with his second fit. This is superbly written drama. I'm loving Deadwood, and we are nearly halfway through this first season.
There's a lot happening in this episode besides the title. Alma continues to pretend to be a junkie still while undergoing cold turkey, fooling E.B., playing for time until seth returns. Seth, meanwhile, is attacked by an opportunistic Sioux, succeeds in killing him with a rock, and is ultimately rescued by Charlie Utter, who now learns of Bill's death. It now seems they are after Bill's killer, but it looks as though this plot thread is to simmer for a bit. Good strategic writing.
Jane is a fascinating character- very much not conforming to the archetype of a lady, acting in many ways like a man, portrayed here (and potentially in reality) as of possible LGBT nature, to use an anachronism; her sexuality and, indeed gender identity, is as ambiguous as one might expect in 1876.
But she is a fully rounded person- drunk to blot out the memory of her best friend's death, but having cared for what she knows full well was a amallpox sufferer at the end of last episode. She's uneducated, uncouth, unladylike, deeply racist as per her upbringing, but not unkind beneath it all.
Then there's Joanie, who seems a bit down- but could the harsh, cynical Cy Tolliver have a thing for her? This promises to be a subtle little character thread that could run and run. Again, good writing. And the Doc, a decent man, taking centre stage while Merrick, a stereotypical newspaperman, is upstaged by Al in reporting the arrival of smallpox.
The arrival of this pestilence in the settlement dominates the episode, which makes it resonate somewhat now in June of 2020. It leads to stage managed fear and, fascinatingly, a meeting of the great and the good in which both Al and Cy relish the role of community leader and both reconcile somewhat. And we see the Reverend Smith collapse- very publicly- with his second fit. This is superbly written drama. I'm loving Deadwood, and we are nearly halfway through this first season.
Tuesday, 9 June 2020
Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 5- The Trial of Jack McCall
"Hickock breaks my balls from the afterlife..."
This is another multifaceted, complex gem of an episode as the people of the town walk past Wild Bill's body to pay their respects while a man stands around loudly trying to sell the severed head of a "heathen" Inevitably, this lawless community moves to try the killer, but the issues surrounding this are fascinating and fundamental. Meanwhile, so many characters get meaningful development.
Bullock is grumpy all episode, particularly with the ingratiating evangelism of the Reverend Smith- it seems that, like many quietly irreligious people in societes where outright atheism is frowned upon, this makes him very uncomfortable. Yet Smith himself is behaving strangely, and ends the episode with some kind of seizure. This is a man we know to have been traumatised by war- there are clearly depths to him.
E.B. shows signs of deep resentment towards Swearengen, and signs of an independent agenda. He's a man needing security for his declining years. Meanwhile Al is getting Trixie to manipulate the newly widowed Alma by replacing her addiction to laudanum with another substance as part of Al's getting her caim back. But she's leaving her agency in the literal hands of a man (not much feminism in 1876)- and, if the first meeting between her and Seth is anything to go by, a man she rather likes the look of. Future lovers, I wonder?
Meanwhile the relationship between Tolliver and mistress Joanie is shown to be complex- how loose is her leash? And she clearly has desires of a Sapphic nature. Tolliver, callously, has his sick old friend Andy dumped in the wilderness where he finds himself looked after by a drunk but nevertheless crudely kindly Calamity Jane, upset at the loss of her "best friend" who never judged her. This is all masterful character development.
But the trial is fascinating- and so is Al's word with the judge. Does this lawless community, wishing for eventual annexation by the United States, really want to look like a society with pretensions of its own legal system, a part of the infrastructure of a functioning state? Would this not be a provocation? And yet, what else can they do?
The killer is ultimately acquitted, and genly reminded to leave town pretty sharpish. But it seems, from coughng at Bill's funeral, that getting rid of Andy (not quite dead) may have brought a plague. How very topical.
This is superlative television.
This is another multifaceted, complex gem of an episode as the people of the town walk past Wild Bill's body to pay their respects while a man stands around loudly trying to sell the severed head of a "heathen" Inevitably, this lawless community moves to try the killer, but the issues surrounding this are fascinating and fundamental. Meanwhile, so many characters get meaningful development.
Bullock is grumpy all episode, particularly with the ingratiating evangelism of the Reverend Smith- it seems that, like many quietly irreligious people in societes where outright atheism is frowned upon, this makes him very uncomfortable. Yet Smith himself is behaving strangely, and ends the episode with some kind of seizure. This is a man we know to have been traumatised by war- there are clearly depths to him.
E.B. shows signs of deep resentment towards Swearengen, and signs of an independent agenda. He's a man needing security for his declining years. Meanwhile Al is getting Trixie to manipulate the newly widowed Alma by replacing her addiction to laudanum with another substance as part of Al's getting her caim back. But she's leaving her agency in the literal hands of a man (not much feminism in 1876)- and, if the first meeting between her and Seth is anything to go by, a man she rather likes the look of. Future lovers, I wonder?
Meanwhile the relationship between Tolliver and mistress Joanie is shown to be complex- how loose is her leash? And she clearly has desires of a Sapphic nature. Tolliver, callously, has his sick old friend Andy dumped in the wilderness where he finds himself looked after by a drunk but nevertheless crudely kindly Calamity Jane, upset at the loss of her "best friend" who never judged her. This is all masterful character development.
But the trial is fascinating- and so is Al's word with the judge. Does this lawless community, wishing for eventual annexation by the United States, really want to look like a society with pretensions of its own legal system, a part of the infrastructure of a functioning state? Would this not be a provocation? And yet, what else can they do?
The killer is ultimately acquitted, and genly reminded to leave town pretty sharpish. But it seems, from coughng at Bill's funeral, that getting rid of Andy (not quite dead) may have brought a plague. How very topical.
This is superlative television.
Tuesday, 2 June 2020
Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 4- Here Was a Man
“Can you let me go to Hell the way I want to?"
Wow. That was sudden, shocking and out of nowhere- but then so are most shots in the back. I know the real life Wild Bill Hickock was shot in this way soon after moving to Deadwood, but the season has consistently kept up the anticipation- wringing lots of pathos from Bill knowing this would happen but passively awiting his fate- while keeping us guessing as to when exactly the moment would arrive. Death, as ever, is unprdedictable. None of us know when our time will come, which are resonant words to be writing in the midst of a plague.
Obviously, Keith Carradine really shines here, but there's so much pathos in how sympathetic Bill is. He's kind to the (thankfully recovered) little girl, who clearly feels comfortable in his presence, always a sign of a nice character. He continues to develop a human connection with Seth, and behaves with integrity (I think) when Alma asks him to help, yet to almost everyone he's a gunslinging celebrity, not a human being- and his death has parallels to that of John Lennon. Most poignantly, as the whole town rounds on the killer, only Jane and Seth run to the body, genuinely sorrowful.
Other plot threads develop, too, as Al continues to show us what a superbly menacing yet nuanced character he is, a villain but a three dimensional one. There's a newcomer, an old friend of Cy Torrance, who is not at all well. Alma confesses to Jane that her marriage to Brom was an ordeal, with hints of aristocratic arranged marriages. Things continue to unfold. But the episode is about Wild Bill, and the fatalistic end to the melancholic life of a seemingly decent man. Superb telly.
Wow. That was sudden, shocking and out of nowhere- but then so are most shots in the back. I know the real life Wild Bill Hickock was shot in this way soon after moving to Deadwood, but the season has consistently kept up the anticipation- wringing lots of pathos from Bill knowing this would happen but passively awiting his fate- while keeping us guessing as to when exactly the moment would arrive. Death, as ever, is unprdedictable. None of us know when our time will come, which are resonant words to be writing in the midst of a plague.
Obviously, Keith Carradine really shines here, but there's so much pathos in how sympathetic Bill is. He's kind to the (thankfully recovered) little girl, who clearly feels comfortable in his presence, always a sign of a nice character. He continues to develop a human connection with Seth, and behaves with integrity (I think) when Alma asks him to help, yet to almost everyone he's a gunslinging celebrity, not a human being- and his death has parallels to that of John Lennon. Most poignantly, as the whole town rounds on the killer, only Jane and Seth run to the body, genuinely sorrowful.
Other plot threads develop, too, as Al continues to show us what a superbly menacing yet nuanced character he is, a villain but a three dimensional one. There's a newcomer, an old friend of Cy Torrance, who is not at all well. Alma confesses to Jane that her marriage to Brom was an ordeal, with hints of aristocratic arranged marriages. Things continue to unfold. But the episode is about Wild Bill, and the fatalistic end to the melancholic life of a seemingly decent man. Superb telly.
Sunday, 31 May 2020
Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 3- Reconnoitering the Rims
"I don't think he took your point, quite."
"I think he quite missed it."
Only the third episode, and it's already very clear indeed that a single viewing is hardly adequate to do justice the density of the script, visuals and performances. I shall plead that there's some value in a first impression, and do my best.
On the surface this episode is about a few prominent plotlines- the opening of the rival saloon over the road and Al's preparation for war; the sort-of agreement between Swearengen and the Seth and Sol duo; and of course the tragic end of swanky New York dude Brom.who seeks "satisfaction" for being swindled by Al and ends up lured to his death in spite of many, many warnings, not only from Charlie but his junkie wife Alma. This is nicely paralleled with Al's decision to spare the slightly treasonous E.B.- after all, he has the poor hotel owner by the balls.
Elsewhere there's casual racism directed towards the "heathens", and equally casual bile (sexism and possible homophobia?) directed at Jane, whose disinclination to perform the rituals of femininity do not go unnoticed. But the most tragic character is the tactiurn Bill, whose reputation precedes him so that he's constantly being abused and challenged by wankers. No one ever treats him as a person, just as the legendary gunslinger he has become, and his life is shorn of any human interaction- no wonder he's drawn to the decent Seth, and that he spends his days drinking and gambling until the day he is inevitably shot by some twat. And yet beneath the gunslinger is a gentleman who will sleep in a corridor so a traumatised little girl can remain undisturbed.
At the core of this is a superb cast of actors- Ian McShane is a revelation; Lovejoy this ain't- but also, again, a peerless script. I'm loving this.
"I think he quite missed it."
Only the third episode, and it's already very clear indeed that a single viewing is hardly adequate to do justice the density of the script, visuals and performances. I shall plead that there's some value in a first impression, and do my best.
On the surface this episode is about a few prominent plotlines- the opening of the rival saloon over the road and Al's preparation for war; the sort-of agreement between Swearengen and the Seth and Sol duo; and of course the tragic end of swanky New York dude Brom.who seeks "satisfaction" for being swindled by Al and ends up lured to his death in spite of many, many warnings, not only from Charlie but his junkie wife Alma. This is nicely paralleled with Al's decision to spare the slightly treasonous E.B.- after all, he has the poor hotel owner by the balls.
Elsewhere there's casual racism directed towards the "heathens", and equally casual bile (sexism and possible homophobia?) directed at Jane, whose disinclination to perform the rituals of femininity do not go unnoticed. But the most tragic character is the tactiurn Bill, whose reputation precedes him so that he's constantly being abused and challenged by wankers. No one ever treats him as a person, just as the legendary gunslinger he has become, and his life is shorn of any human interaction- no wonder he's drawn to the decent Seth, and that he spends his days drinking and gambling until the day he is inevitably shot by some twat. And yet beneath the gunslinger is a gentleman who will sleep in a corridor so a traumatised little girl can remain undisturbed.
At the core of this is a superb cast of actors- Ian McShane is a revelation; Lovejoy this ain't- but also, again, a peerless script. I'm loving this.
Monday, 18 May 2020
Deadwood: Season 1, Episode 1- Deadwood
"Goddammit, Swearengen. I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. But I enjoy the way you lie."
A very impressive start to Deadwood with this hour of telly, with the premise and the characters introduced with good storytelling beats and the "show, don't tell" type of exposition- no bad feat with this showing early signs of having the complexity of a fat novel.
It all fees very much like an HBO of the '00's both structurally and visually- It reminds me very much of True Blood in spite of the differences in genre.
Our first scene nicely establishes things as kindly sheriff Seth, somewhere in Montana Territory, mentions to a prisoner that he's off to Deadwood shortly. It's 1876 and, we learn, following Custer's recent last stand, the Black Hills in Dakota Territory are the focus of a gold rush.The only thing is that, legally, it's Sioux land, and the town has no legal basis and therefore is quite literally lawless. But this is nicely followed by an example of "law" in the "civilised" west- Seth is faced by a posse looking for blood, and is forced to hang the prisoner himself in a vague gesture towards "law".
No wonder he's planning to open a shop and give up the law business. But we're also introduced to the likes of a very menacing (and famous) Wild Bill Hickock, and the sweary gun girl with a heart, Calamity Jane- one of the few speaking women not pimped out and beaten up; no wonder the dresses and acts like a man. And we also meet the dangerous publican-cum-crimelord Al Swearengen, whose oddly mid-Atlantic accent is apparently deliberate. Intelligent and ruthless, he seems interesting.
Three characters are seen being shot dead in the course of the episode- it's a dangerous existence. And a family of Germans (?) trying to go home to Minnesota are massacred. It's a violent, harsh world but one redolent with what feels like realism. I much enjoyed this meaty and fascinating episode. Hopes are high for the next thirty-five.
A very impressive start to Deadwood with this hour of telly, with the premise and the characters introduced with good storytelling beats and the "show, don't tell" type of exposition- no bad feat with this showing early signs of having the complexity of a fat novel.
It all fees very much like an HBO of the '00's both structurally and visually- It reminds me very much of True Blood in spite of the differences in genre.
Our first scene nicely establishes things as kindly sheriff Seth, somewhere in Montana Territory, mentions to a prisoner that he's off to Deadwood shortly. It's 1876 and, we learn, following Custer's recent last stand, the Black Hills in Dakota Territory are the focus of a gold rush.The only thing is that, legally, it's Sioux land, and the town has no legal basis and therefore is quite literally lawless. But this is nicely followed by an example of "law" in the "civilised" west- Seth is faced by a posse looking for blood, and is forced to hang the prisoner himself in a vague gesture towards "law".
No wonder he's planning to open a shop and give up the law business. But we're also introduced to the likes of a very menacing (and famous) Wild Bill Hickock, and the sweary gun girl with a heart, Calamity Jane- one of the few speaking women not pimped out and beaten up; no wonder the dresses and acts like a man. And we also meet the dangerous publican-cum-crimelord Al Swearengen, whose oddly mid-Atlantic accent is apparently deliberate. Intelligent and ruthless, he seems interesting.
Three characters are seen being shot dead in the course of the episode- it's a dangerous existence. And a family of Germans (?) trying to go home to Minnesota are massacred. It's a violent, harsh world but one redolent with what feels like realism. I much enjoyed this meaty and fascinating episode. Hopes are high for the next thirty-five.
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