So Never Mind

Brutally succinct and relentlessly bleak, episode seven of True Detective season two ‘Black Maps and Motel Rooms’ will leave you with a lump in your throat and tell you to fucking suck it up.

Here we have it: the beginning of the end, the dark before the dawn, the nadir in the journey of the heroes we follow. This episode practically bombards viewers with revelations and consequences in equal measure. In this blog I’ll consider three moments which stood out to me, Frank ripping up the poker table, Vera and Bezzerides’ conversation, and the final scene.

• Frank destroys stuff and looks cool doing it

The load of story development this week hung heavy on Frank Semyon; as a result, I was particularly impressed with how Vaughn executed several moments which could easily have fallen flat. His portrayal has steadily grown on me as the season has gone on (starting with that excellent scene where he pulled out the gold teeth) and I feel that this episode capitalises on that carefully laid groundwork. This is exemplified in the scene when Frank rips up the table after speaking with Velcoro. This fleeting moment really captures and amplifies Frank’s arc; he finally understands the machinations which have been working against him for no small amount of time and, in a moment of pure rage, allows himself to let loose before once more becoming the composed man capable of reaching out and attempting to control his own fate. Blake’s death, the destruction of the clubs, and the cool discussion with Osip are all framed by this moment.

• Vera says she wants to be a hooker

Vera’s statement that she was never missing and that she didn’t need or want to be saved clouds the audience’s perception of Bezzerides’ motives. This, combined with the threat at the end, indicates Bezzerides’ priorities really lie with solving the case rather than helping the needy.  Questioning the judgement of the heretofore unshakeable female detective prompts us to consider the motivations and judgements which we make on a daily basis. What is abhorrent for one might be common for another; that’s not to say either perspective is right or wrong, merely that it might sometimes be necessary to consider viewpoints different from your own.

• Woodrugh gets what he did and didn’t deserve

At the end of the episode, we witnessed the tragic death of Paul Woodrugh at the hands of Lieutenant Burris; after last week many had Burris as their chief suspect for the murder of Paul Caspere. Turns out they were dead right. Burris is the man who killed Caspere, the man who we’ve been looking for, and the man on the exit. It was clear from the beginning of the season that Woodrugh had mixed feelings about being alive; while riding his motorbike in the dark without the lights on didn’t tip the scale, walking into an ambush concocted by successful rogue-cops and mercenaries sure did. There was really only one conclusion to the story of a character as conflicted as Woodrugh; True Detective just brought us that conclusion in acutely ruthless fashion. The shot of his face as he crawls away, cursing and trying to live as Burris approaches from behind and shoots him once more, is a stark indicator that like all tragic characters he has inevitably died too soon. Nobody doubts Woodrugh really was trying to be a ‘good man.’ He just couldn’t fit into anyone’s narrow definition of that, including his own.

Personally, I can’t wait to see how True Detective wraps up the plotlines of the remaining characters next week.

Swarm of Flies

Perverted old men, paedophiles, and rapists; episode six ‘Church in Ruins’ throws punches until you can barely stand to look in the mirror. This episode continues to ramp up the action and pull various plotlines together; we finally find out where the missing girl Vera is, some of the background to Frank’s betrayal is revealed, and our understanding of Bezzerides’ character goes through a diametric shift.

There have been several moments in this season which have really stuck with me; the opening scene of this episode is one of them. The conversation between Velcoro and Semyon succinctly frames a lot of the themes which the season has been exploring. Farrell and Vaughn do a great job of reiterating them here through both their faces and their dialogue delivery. The conversation itself allows each character to articulate some of their points of view and to once again bring these ideas before the audience. For example, Frank talks of his sense of justice; so far there have been several moments where Frank’s personal code has been challenged or not upheld by other characters. Velcoro also seems to hold a series of unshakeable values which perhaps is a reason why the men get on so well. However, the problem with systems like these is that they don’t function when other people don’t follow your rules of engagement e.g. you get stiffed on custody or you get ripped off.

This season asks questions of the place of honour in our society; are these two character working under outmoded principles? People like to think we live in exceptional times (consider Eliot Bezzerides’ pseudo-wise remarks in the first episode about ‘the final age of man’) but I’m not altogether convinced. War and inequality have always existed along with the people who make opportunities from them; these issues merely seem more pronounced in our time because we have direct experience of them. But, that’s not to say they should be ignored, I only want to articulate that the endeavours of those with ‘honour’ have been successful until now in maintaining our hint of civilisation and likely will continue to be if they remain true to their core values. Semyon and Velcoro might seem like odd exemplars of this conundrum; however I feel that to be one of this season’s masterstrokes. Questions of civilisation are markedly more focused when viewed through the lens of a coked-out cop and a mob boss instead of a caped crusader. Nothing is black and white; neither the answer to this question nor the character of these men.

Further into the conversation, Semyon tells Velcoro that he was always waiting to become who he is now and that his crimes only brought him to his true self. This line brings into focus the extent to which each character has been wrestling with their conceptions of identity: Woodrugh cannot align his homosexuality with his Clint Eastwood-esque personality and formidable martial skill; Bezzerides is barely beginning to admit to herself where her trust issues might arise from; Semyon is so keen on maintaining his wealth he can barely stop to think about why he even needs it; and Velcoro is so wrapped up in his paternal fantasy that he’ll give up his right to see his son in order to avoid testing it.  But maybe the point is that the identities of all these characters are subject to change and various; presented in this way, the show points to the source of their problems not being who they are, but their lack of acceptance.

Speaking of identity, ‘Church in Ruins’ massively shifts the audience’s perception of Bezzerides. This begins halfway through the episode with McAdams showing off her skill with a knife. Yet again, Bezzerides is presented as maniacal and driven; sweating as she practises a killing move over and over again and barely talking with her sister. But this time the scepticism this engenders in the audience is brought full circle. The answer to why Bezzerides hates Panticapaem so much is truly shocking; the abuse she suffered is slowly elucidated in parallel with the voraciously efficient tone of Blake and Toni Chessani’s high end orgy. The brief shots of the past, punctuated by the final one of the chillingly young arm, serve to realign the audience’s perception of McAdams’ character. Now her endless training and acute understanding of physical power differentials doesn’t seem remotely irrational. I really appreciated the way that McAdams didn’t overdo the acting during part of the episode; her portrayal of the drug induced memories was powerful in its restraint.

On a lighter note, I hope everyone saw the Vinci Police Chief talking to Osip in the background of one of the shots of Tony Chessani; this lends particular credence for me to the theory many share that Lieutenant Burris could be our mystery birdman murderer. The description of the dead girl Irina certainly matches his profile: she calls him big (read tall for someone who doesn’t speak English as a first language), and comments on the fact that he was some sort of Heffe (boss). Perhaps Blake and Tony used the connections they made at their parties to Vinci PD and Osip in order to rip off Frank and double their investment in the rail line? Regardless, I’m keen to see how the next episode continues to pull the threads of season two’s story together.