A Farewell to Armless Stick Figures: JFC Ep. 10

Every life lesson I’ve ever learned about loss and disappointment has come at the hands of TV Executives. Yes, every TV show I love turns to ashes in my hands – if the fickle network gods can strike down Arrested Development, Deadwood, Rome, Futurama, and Arrested Goddamned Development, how can I let myself get attached to a new show? And what chance does our beloved John From Cincinnati stand? Hell, they cancelled Firefly before I even found out about it – it’s as if they knew I was coming.

I’ve been following TelevisionWithoutPity’s JFC topic with some interest, since this is the kind of show that draws divergent opinions. There’s pretty much two camps. The first of which is the embittered Deadwood fans, who wish desperately for Swearengen to show up and slice some cocksucker’s throat for spouting gibberish. They’re disappointed with the “lack of answers”, and observe that Milch has been jerking off and we’ve been watching it for ten episodes.

The second camp says things like, “I loved it. I don’t know why, but I loved it.”

Think about someone you love. Now think about how you’d explain why you love this person to a third party. It’d be pretty hard – sure, you can list all the little things and the cute idiosyncracies and the great virtues and everything in between, but in the end, you can only shrug and say, “I dunno why, but I do.” And if we can’t understand that, we can at least recognize it. Love’s just complex like that. It works on us in ways and levels past even language’s capabilities to express.

So it is with John From Cincinnati. The show is resistant to interpretation, impervious to synopsis; in the end, all that matters is: did you get that tingle in your palms, that goofy grin on your face? What did you feel? Don’t worry about whether or not you comprehend it, just enjoy the emotion.

Really, that’s why JFC was doomed from the start. To make a show that eschews most of the medium’s conventions, and instead relies on engendering an irrational yet powerful emotional response … well, that’s a tough row to hoe. I respect Milch (and the boulders in his pants) for running this out there.

So let’s talk about the season (series?) finale.

There were all kinds of easter eggs:

Two more Deadwood vets appeared – Conn Stapleton, sans moustache, and Mr. Wu, with a vocabulary larger than “Swidgin” and “cocksucka”.

The shuffleboard has 9, 11, and 14 on it – see John on the Mount for that reference.

Kem Nun, series co-creator, was the guy who came in asking for smoothies and got venom spit in his face by Trixie.

I wikipedia’d ‘stinkweed’ (Linc’s surf company), and it’s a tree. This tree goes by another name: Tree of Heaven. A quote from the article

“There’s a tree that grows in Brooklyn. Some people call it the Tree of Heaven. No matter where its seed falls, it makes a tree which struggles to reach the sky. It grows in boarded up lots and out of neglected rubbish heaps. It grows up out of cellar gratings. It is the only tree that grows out of cement. It grows lushly…survives without sun, water, and seemingly earth. It would be considered beautiful except that there are too many of it.”

Did you know Stinkweed has a website? Take a look here – some references to Linc and Shaun in there.

The episode opens again with the characters waking, just like in Episode 5. Let’s see if there’s any parallels between the season’s halfway point and its finale. I was awed by those first few minutes, soaring through the clouds with Dylan on the soundtrack. It was like a flying dream, and the sensation of speed as Shaunie and John soared back from Cincinnati was exhilarating, purely electrifying. When they come over those waves, the show may have found its perfect moment, the kind that will stick with you.

Speaking of perfect moments, Butchie patting the back of Shaun’s head was a nice callback to when their roles were reversed and it was Shaun doing the comforting.

In interviews, Milch has talked about how JFC is an examination of the genesis of faith. Linc confronts this when he says to John, struggling to understand him: “You use my words, and when you speak them, if I listen right, I can hear your father.” This suggests that the seed of faith is already within us. John brings no sermons with him – what scripture and prophecy he has are cobbled together from others’ words. So God is in all of us, and all John is doing is bringing attention to it.

Linc calls John “the end.” And John tells him that if the word doesn’t get out, “you’re all going to be toast. We’re coming 9/11/14.” Seems that 9/11/14 is the doomsday, but that’s a ways off. 7 years till apocalypse? That’s not exactly imminent.

The line about, “What’s your father’s father’s name?” “Father,” wasn’t just funny, it was a confirmation of John’s father’s identity. If grandfather and father are both “Father”, then who is the only being who is created and creator?

Now, as for John’s father. We finally met him. I think. A lot of on point stuff in that dealership scene, especially the stuff about having to know what it means before you have a feeling, or the listener knowing what the speaker means before he listens. John’s attitude during the scene is sheepish, moreso than usual, and look at how he turns his gaze down when Father says, “I took you offline.” Is John a rogue angel?

There’s been a lot of talk about how El Camino translates to ‘road’, or ‘path’, or ‘way’. Note that Father says he feels the Stinkweed boys are ready for this way. He also says they should divert their gifts to the 0′s and 1′s – that is to say, become the disciples in John’s movement. And really what are disciples but salesmen and pitchers?

Interesting parade scene, I liked how Cissy and Butchie had to anchor Mitch so he wouldn’t go floating off. The bit about Doc Smith returning 20 years younger seemed out of left field. You can see the lady in scrubs looking at him askance, like maybe she recognizes him. And I’m all for somebody else who’s been to Cincinnati… but does this mean no more Dillahunt? If so, that sucks.

Bill’s last scene was amazing; it’s hard to imagine that the guy who spent most of his television career with his hand down his pants has those kind of chops. Thank the lord Zippy is back. I wonder if he’ll convey to Bill that he was in Cincinnati.

The last shot of the episode was a hell of a way to close it. Kai, emerging from the waves, John’s voice: “Mother of God Cass-Kai.” Look at Kai’s expression as she glances at the camera, how totally at ease she is. Keala Kennedy was born to ride waves, it looked like.

Well, that’s it and that’s all. Hopefully there’ll be more abstruseness to pick at in a year’s time. If not… work here.

P.S. Somebody ought to make Monad T-Shirts.

John on the Mount

So far, John from Cincinnati has thrown a lot of psychedelic moments at us, none more so than John’s sublime monologue in the parking lot of Snug Harbor. I didn’t have the energy to examine it at the time, but I’ve got the urge to transcribe it and see if any sense can be made of it. Here goes, with a line and my interpretation following.

“If my words are yours, can you hear my father?”
John speaks of his mimicry. If he hears his father when he speaks there words, can they not also hear him when they speak? I’m assuming his father is God (forgive me if I’m blatantly obvious at times – I’m approaching this like a crossword; fill in the really easy ones to help with the hardest ones.)

“Can Bill know my father, keeping his eye on me? Can I bone Kai, and Butchie know my father instead?”
John’s a distraction – with his eye on John, Bill can’t see the big picture. Butchie’s similarly distracted with Kai; of course, Butchie more than anybody believes in John.

John walks into the haunted room and drags out the ghost/zombie of Mr. Rollins (who molested Barry).

“My father’s shy doing his business. Kai helps my father dump out. Bill takes a shot. Shaunie is much improved. Joe is a Doubting Thomas. Joe will save Not-Aleman. Joe will bring his buddies home.”
Recap. It’s interesting to note that the parallels between Vietnam Joe and Doubting Thomas are absolute. From wikipedia: “who doubted the resurrection of Jesus and demanded to feel Jesus’ wounds before being convinced.” Exactly like John’s stabbing at the hands of (apparently) Not-Aleman. As for Joe saving this Not-Aleman, I assume that’ll be resolved in the final episode. The teaser showed Not-Aleman and his crew. Now what is it Joe will save them from? John?

“This is how Freddie relaxes. Cup of joe and Winchell’s variety dozen. Mitch catches a good wave. Mitch wipes out. Mitch wipes out Cissy. Cissy shows Butchie how to do that. Cissy wipes Butchie out. Butchie hurts Barry’s head. Mr. Rollins cums in Barry’s face. My father runs the mega millions.”
The damage incidents that warped the Yosts. Note the construction of each sentence. Person + the shit they did + the victim. The interpersonal wounds are what lead them here. But watch the end – Barry’s been molested and taken a broom handle to the head. But “my father runs the mega millions.” Perhaps God looking to make it up to poor Barry?

The sun is setting, and John is sleeping in the passenger’s seat. Visits Cass. “I need your camera, Cass.” “Safe in the trunk of my car, John.” Linc stands before a window, a decal reading “…Lost” beside his head. John tells him to get back in the game. John or John’s apparition drives away.

“Fur is big. Mud is big. The stick is big. The word is big. Fire is huge. The wheel is huge. The line and circle are big. On the wall, the line and circle are huge. On the wall, the man at the wall makes a man from the circle and line. The man on at the wall makes a word on the wall from the circle and line. The word on the wall hears my father.”
Now we’re at the dawn of man – more specifically, language’s emergence. That, to me, is the turning point, that liminal gap between an animal and something more. Now if we take John’s surname of Monad as an obvious hint that this show espouses Monism (the belief that all things are of one substance), perhaps this line: “The word on the wall hears my father,” can be taken to mean that with language, we gain ingress into this universal substance. Language is famous for unifying those who use it and those who hear it by opening a door to common experience.

“The zeroes and ones make the word in Cass’s camera. In the word on the wall that hears my father in Cass’s camera, the good one Mitch catches doesn’t wipe Cissy out. In the word that hears my father, Cissy shows Butchie something else. In my father’s word, Cissy shows Butchie and Shaun. In my father’s word, Tina raises Shaun at lunch. In Cass’s camera, Butchie lays the cord out for Barry, and Mr. Rollins watches, and he doesn’t cum on Barry’s face. In Cass’s camera, Butchie knows Kai has kept the faith. In my father’s word, the wave lifts them up.”
The world of John’s father – perfect, wholesome… and non-existent.

John makes the symbol of the stick figure with no arms. Bill steps from his car. Palaka pulls out Freddie’s sax.

“In Cass’s camera, Bill doesn’t bump his head on the stairs.”

Bill climbs the staircase, saying he can’t do this and that he’s skating on thin ice.

“In Cass’s camera, as long as he’s being stupid, Bill gives Lois a kiss.” Freddie plays and Bill accompanies on his harmonica. “In his word in Cass’s camera, the internet is big. 9/11 is big, but not every towelhead is eradicated. In his word, we are coming, 9/11/14.”
Now I plugged in 9/11/14 into google. Here’s what I found. So. I was going to offer some kind of interpretation, but I’m no bible scholar and everything I came up with smelled strongly of bullshit. I’ll leave you to puzzle at that one (assuming it’s even relevant to the current fucking discussion).

“In my father’s word, Bill sees how Freddie relaxes. In Cass’s camera, Ramon wants to know who’s hungry, in the courtyard and room 45. In my father’s word to come in Cass’s camera, Dr. Smith calls Ocean Properties.”
This refers to Doc buying that room across from Snug Harbor in order to open a clinic.

“In Cass’s camera to come, my father stares Not-Aleman down, and Freddy sees Bill much improved.”
Now this is interesting. Like I said, the finale is going to feature the dude who stabbed John. Watch to see if anybody stares him down. The last person who tried that was John, and he got a gut wound for his trouble. Could John be his father as well as himself? Nobody else in the rest of the cast makes sense as John’s father. They’re all well-established fuck-ups and waywards. Now the only character who is a little more inscrutable would be… Shaunie. I dunno, it’s a stretch, but something to keep in mind.

“You will not note my father’s word, nor remember Cass’s camera, but you will not forget what we did here.” The assembled characters shake their heads, and wake from the vision. Barry says they should make these cookouts a fixture. Butchie offers Kai to go look for the space commander. Doc rides off, and Cass drives off. John wakes up in Vietnam Joe’s car.

John from Cincinnati, Episode 9

Penultimate episode this week, and with John’s absence, it seemed almost coherent. The characters were asking a lot of the same questions we were, and Butchie seemed as fed up with Cass as the rest of us (“Did I hurt your tit?” was a highlight).

I dug the episode, probably because it was a familiar one. If you recall the ep of Deadwood where Bullock’s kid was trampled, very similar themes are at work here. A community banding together, concerned vigils, and the impotence of a child’s guardians in the face of chance (that rampaging horse) or fate (John Monad).

This communal concern draws characters together, and demolishes some of the disdain that might keep them at arm’s length. I guess what I’m trying to say is this – thank god somebody was nice to Barry this week. Dude’s been taking enough abuse, so when Teddy got a friend (courtesy of Freddy), and Doc Smith helped him out (bonus gay marriage joke), you had to think Barry finally got what he deserved. Matt Winston did a great job this week, and he’s got the tremulous smile down pat.

Barry wasn’t the only recipient of a little kindness. Cissy’s been ratcheted back a few levels, and with the rage toned down, the grief shows all the more clearly. Cissy staggered through the episode devastated, almost as if she knows Shaun is dead (not that I’m advocated that theory, it’s just how her performance read to me) and is simply going through the motions because caring for that kid is all she’s good at.

Cissy seems so intent on Shaun that she can’t even summon up her usual venom for Butchie and Mitch. David Milch has said more than a few times that you’re supposed to watch what the characters do – don’t listen to what they say. Cissy telling the newly-responsible Butchie to go fuck himself was a beautiful example – she says it just cause that’s what she always says, but you can tell her heart isn’t in it.

Same with Mitch’s return. She throws a haymaker at his face, but even that’s kind of an underreaction from what we’ve seen of Cissy – Ep1 and 2 Cissy would have clawed his fuckin’ eyes out. Greenwood’s return to the show reminds me how much I’ve missed the character; his willingness to believe is shared by the audience, so while the rest of the characters might ignore or deny John’s powers, Mitch wants to get to the bottom of them, just like us. So the more the Enlightened One is on the screen, the more answers we’ll get. If you’re into that kind of thing. And if you’re still watching with us up till this point, you probably aren’t dying to have your answers.

Enough heartwarming character stuff. Let’s talk about the armless stick figures. The episode was packed to the gills with these cryptic little fuckers. Where’d the stick figures over the bar come from? Barry says: “I didn’t know I placed an order.” Come again? John’s second message shows two stick figures. The larger of the two has a little semi-circle on line representing the torso. Might be significant. The third message shows a clusterfuck of stick figures, and that could mean anything. My take is that these stick figures represent the community of IB, and all the people who are concerned about Shaunie. Milch is interested in bricolage communities (me too, now that I think about it), so the fact that we spent an entire episode focused on the repercussions of Shaunie’s disappearance and not the resolution of it tells me that John knows the importance of community.

That’s all I’ve got for this week’s show.

The teaser looked mighty fine. John is returned from “Cincinnati”, Mitch gets his float on, and the dudes who knifed John are back. Oh yeah, and Bill gets put in bracelets.

Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ.

John from Cincinnati, Episode 8

This week I’ll be taking a look at symbolism. Right now what we’re concerned with are these:

Butchie’s nautical star

Tiki

And the armless stick figure (No image)

We’ll start with Butchie, cause that’s just easiest. From ezinearticles:

“Over time the North Star became a symbol for finding your way home safely and symbolically finding your way in life. But beyond that, as many sailors were deeply superstitious with a rich history of lore about life and death at sea, they were always looking for lucky charms. So many sailors began to place nautical star tattoos on their forearms or hands as a symbol of good luck and a desire to get home safely.”

Check. Just wanted to look that up because it’s so prominent there on Butchie’s throat.

Tiki statues show up twice: in the scene with Cass and John at the borderlands and in Mitch’s little treehouse. When John sees it, he actually shit talks it – the obvious motivation being John’s a mimic, and he sees the scowling face of the tiki and responds in kind. The slightly less obvious is the tiki is a false idol, and if John = JC, he might not take kindly to such things. And of course Mitch would have one, being a frequenter of alternative apothecary and doing some light reading with “Levitation for the Illuminated”. By the way, is anyone else curious about Greenwood’s little hiatus from the show?

Now this stick figure I can’t say for sure. Right now all I know is John has been sketching it in the ground with his foot since episode one. It could represent nearly anything – man, god, whatever. It’s got no arms, which seems significant, and now that it’s over John’s right shoulder as he makes his Bin Laden tapes, it grows even more important. From the teaser next week (SPOILERS), after Shaunie disappears there are two of those stick figures in John’s next video message, one big and one little. This makes me wonder if perhaps John, John’s father, and Shaun might be some sort of Holy Trinity. Of course, if God’s the Father, John’s the Son, that’d make Shaun the Holy Spirit. Let’s see how well this fits Shaun, with trusty Wikipedia as a guide:

“Christians believe that the Holy Spirit leads people to faith in Jesus and gives them the ability to lead a Christian life.”

Shaun’s miraculous recovery has certainly made characters accept the supernatural, and by now people accept John’s powers without skepticism.

“The Spirit who ‘has spoken through the prophets’ makes us hear the Father’s Word, but we do not hear the Spirit himself. We know him only in the movement by which he reveals the Word to us and disposes us to welcome him in faith. The Spirit of truth who ‘unveils’ Christ to us ‘will not speak on his own.’ Such properly divine self-effacement explains why ‘the world cannot receive [him], because it neither sees him nor knows him,’ while those who believe in Christ know the Spirit because he dwells with them.”

This bit (especially the bolded part) seems like it’s straight from the script. Most of that passage better describes John, however – especially not speaking on his own. Shaun however is a quiet cat, and he does appear to both Barry and Freddy in visions.

“The Catechism also lists the various symbols of the Holy Spirit in the Bible:

Water – signifies the Holy Spirit’s action in Baptism. As ‘by one Spirit we were all baptized,’ so we are also ‘made to drink of one Spirit.’”

Shaun certainly has strong ties to the water, and like Linc says, when Shaun surfs, people can tap into something bigger, make them feel electric and alive – baptized and purified by the boy’s prodigious talents.

“Much of Pentecostalism holds that the ‘Baptism with the Holy Spirit‘ is distinct from the salvific born again experience, as a usually distinct experience in which the Spirit’s power is received by the Christian in a new way, with the result that the Christian can now be more readily used to do signs, miracles, and wonders for the sake of evangelism or for ministry within the church.”

Beautiful example: Bill and Zippy resurrecting Shaun.

The Spirit is also a noted comforter, and Shaun has certainly been that for Cissy.

Anyways, on through the rest of the episode.

John tells Cass that he “will be murdered twice.” Now he was already murdered by the thug in the van – who’s going to be number two? Bill’s out of the running because he’s realized he’s out of his depth with John. Freddy came awful close if it wasn’t for Palaka (Palaka and Freddy remind me of the comedic subplots in some Shakespeare stuff, though Palaka can be surprisingly competent at times), so he’s got a strong bid. Maybe Cissy, once she realizes Shaunie’s gone.

Barry using more of his winnings to buy the condemned bar was my favorite scene of the episode. And his plan of converting it into a theater should be familiar to any Deadwood fan – it seems like Milch had something to say about the power of theater that he never got the chance to with Langrishe’s playhouse; it’ll be interesting to see just what that is. By the way, Milch had something to say in this episode: I’m 99% sure that was Mr. Milch himself berating Barry from the jukebox.

Like always, the episode had a few moments that made me scratch my head. First, you’ve got Shaun’s message not sticking on the machine. Is that John intervening to sow panic? Or is Butchie’s more prosaic explanation the correct one?

Why is it that after John stabs himself, Bill cleans off the blade first? He only checks on John’s wounds afterwards.

Did John exercise some mind control on Cass? While Cass freaks out about John’s cryptic ways, John closes his eyes and folds his hand. Suddenly Cass is much calmer, and starts folding up the stick figure drop cloth. The look in Cass’s eyes was very similar to the look in Shaun’s as he juggled at the end of the ep… perhaps the young man is possessed?

Best line of the episode goes again to Linc:

“Me first?”
“That’s the usual order”

Irony of the episode goes to Bill, who slaps John for parrot talk – here’s a guy who slavishly obeys his parakeet.

That’s all for now – I’m working on a post examining John on the Mount (his epic monologue from a previous episode), so keep an eye out for it.

John From Cincinnati, Episode 7

Episode 7 spoilers to follow (sorry I’m late to the party).

Pretty decent episode this week. Much of the episode was actually treading water (if you’re treading water you’re just getting ready to drown – seriously, Linc’s like a fuckin’ fortune cookie), but those last few minutes were really tight. The driving bongos had me riled up like it was some kind of call to war, and then they hit us with the credits and that tantalizing preview. Ah well, only two more days. I’m always impressed with the music selections on Milch shows; that crew realizes the importance of carefully choosing your songs and instrumentals.

Cass has seen something on that tape, and there’s going to be something else big/huge coming up that John is gonna need taped (as he said sitting on her bed, “it won’t mean dick without the 1s and 0s”). Perhaps Shaun’s imminent disappearance? Greyson Fletcher and his stiff performances make more sense if he was only contracted for 8 episodes – then his absence can take on its own importance in the plot.

And now, desultory thoughts on the remainder (sorry this isn’t more cogent, haven’t had time to watch it twice):

How loaded with import is each glance between Butchie and Cissy, now that we know the enormity of her sin?

Butchie’s rededication to his craft is as compelling as that action always is. One wonders at his motivation. Like in the ill-fated S60, Matt’s always writing to impress Harriet. Every performer has their muse, and is Kai Butchie’s?

Shaun patting his father on the head was almost too sweet.

What the fuck is up with Stinkweed? Are they aware they’re exclusively employing washed up actors from teen shows? First Luke Perry, now Zach from Saved by the Bell… (interesting confluence: saw a bit of an E! show talking about how child stars try to legitimize themselves, and this Mark-Paul Gosselaar was shown answering various questions about Saved by the Bell. He was so afraid of reinforcing people’s association of him and that show that he wouldn’t even say the show’s name. It’s like people saying You-Know-Who in Harry Potter [sorry, 250 pages in], and that brings me to David Mamet’s amazing essay found here . Alright, end parenthetical) I think next episode somebody from the OC is gonna show up.

Linc’s a serious wildcard now that he’s agreed to be bought out. He can’t sign Shaun, doesn’t need to sign Shaun, and he’s got 65 mil. in his pocket – what is a single fucking reason for him to stay in IB? Perhaps to press his suit with Tina? That “million dollars to hold your hand” was gold, by the way; why am I not surprised the skeeve and the whore have the sweetest relationship?

John From Cincinnati, Episode 6

A drastically truncated post tonight, compared to last week’s epic.

In a lot of ways this was JfC’s nod to our need to know what the hell’s going on – we got a ton of exposition and character motivation/background (good to know why Cissy’s so fucked up). Yet, Milch being Milch, he gives us our exposition in the most chaotic and experimental fashion possible. That scene at the motel was like some avant garde stage production, with Bill climbing the stairway and Freddie playing the sax, all overlaid with John’s madman monologue. Loved it anyway – the more JFC veers from the standard narrative format, the more I’m intrigued.

Good performances tonight, and Butchie junkied it up like hasn’t since episode one. Vietnam Joe was awesome – he gets John.

And now we can bury any more discussion about John’s provenance. He’s an angel, if not Jesus himself. Austin Nichols is performing beautifully.

No thoughts for two more weeks – vacation time for me.

John From Cincinnati, Episode 5

Some thoughts on the opening credits:
With the excellent “Johnny Appleseed” in the background, the credits roll through a series of vintage clips, most of them grainy home-movie type footage with that super 8 vibe. Black flecks and noise dance over scenes of upright boarders in tight 50′s swimsuits riding waves. But once the surf footage you’d expect is up, there’s a snap-second shot of two lovers embracing on the beach, then a flash of light. This signals a transition into the setting itself, Imperial Beach. Most interesting in this portion is the shots of illegals scurrying across the border, clambering over fences and pouring through turnstiles. A few more juxtapositions flash on the screen – surfers, urban sprawl, more surfers, then the title.

This is a pretty masterful opening credit, so far as they go. Deadwood’s opening sequence featured a horse galloping through the camp, cut through with shots of the accoutrements of the gold rush and the old west: dirty women, gold dust, filthy booze, fire and blood. Of course, that horse was a mystery even to Milch, who said as much on a commentary track. John’s vintage feel establishes setting just as well as Deadwood – the question now is “what setting is this?”

A borderland. The most interesting spot between any two entities – be they countries or people – is the place where they abut. We’re trained to spot these border zones, where two things collide, struggle, and eventually compromise. In JFC terms, the pairing seems to be the status quo for the Yosts (read: total dysfunction) and the promise of hope that is John Monad. Note that when Vietnam Joe first stumbles across John, he assumes he’s some fratboy reentering the country from Tijuana. John comes from a blank spot on the map. His unknown origins, aside from lending him an air of the exotic (John seems to come from a different time altogether, appearing much more similar to the surfers of the opening credits than the scruffy Yosts), mean he isn’t mired in the same shit the Yosts are, and he’s free to lend them a hand out of the muck.

Anyway, let’s get on to the show proper.  Spoilers for Episode 5 after the jump.

John from Cincinnati, Episode 4

Spoilers to follow.

I can finally breathe a sigh of relief – Doc Smith (Garrett Dillahunt) looks to have a full-time role, as evidenced by Ramon’s “We have room for a house physician?” I love how the motel is serving as Deadwood’s thoroughfare in this series. I’m very pleased about the doctor’s part, as he’s already exhibited excellent chemistry with both Cissy and John. I will say that his morning palaver with Stephen Tobolowsky (AKA Commissioner Jarry AKA Ned? Ned Ryerson?) was the first time I saw him in casual clothes. Though he didn’t actually do anything plot-wise until he showed up at the Motel mid-circus, I enjoyed his wanderings.

The run in with the rose lady was particularly intriguing. She doesn’t invite his attentions, but he seems eager to justify himself to her. It’s clear that Shaun’s recovery has put him – and his belief system – on unsteady ground. He certainly seems ready to embrace the miraculous however, perhaps even too quick to embrace. One wonders what mystifying events in his past leads him to finally confront the inexplicable head-on? When he was speaking to Cissy in E3, he said something about explanations best only addressed by a pat on the head. Most doctor’s wouldn’t even waste the time to dismiss the miraculous, but not only is Doc Smith thinking about it, it’s as if he was struggling to keep it at bay. His resignation from the hospital signals a willingness to wade in headlong, it appears. I’m loving where this character is going so far, and Dillahunt’s delivery and wry humor mark him as a very likeable, “normal” character in a cast of misfits. Perhaps he can give some of the show’s skeptics access to the remainder of the cast, unlikeable as they sometimes are?

Elsewhere in the cast, Mitch’s character has taken a turn. In the early episodes I thought Mitch would be the Swearengen to this cast, the gruff, constantly irritated patriarch with some fatherly instincts just below the surface. But Mitch and his alternative apothecary + E3 confrontation with Cissy mark his wife as the pragmatist and Mitch as the dreamer, afraid to engage reality without thick layers of interpretation as a shield. Mitch falls into an affair with Cass easily and without compunction, but even his free love tendencies can’t stop him from coming back to Cissy. The Cissy/Mitch relationship is an uneasy one, and it’ll be interesting to see how it develops.

As for other relationships, Kai/Butchie’s fling and Bill/Freddie’s friendship are two more that have sprung up in e4.

It has been widely remarked that Keala Kennelly and Greyson Fletcher (who play Kai and Shaun, respectively) aren’t great actors. I don’t think anyone would contest that. Though Keala has shown some flashes, Fletcher’s “stupid fuckers” in e4 was more wooden than anything Keanu Reeves has ever said. I didn’t think this would be much of a problem, but Kai/Butchie is putting some dramatic weight on Kennelly’s shoulders, and right now she can’t handle it. It doesn’t detract terribly from the show right now, but watching Brian Van Holt and Kennelly act in the same scene isn’t fair to either of them (and I suppose saying that isn’t fair to Ms. Kennelly – like I said, she does show some flashes of a very Trixie-like charm, and I’m glad she’s on the show). Aside from the technical aspects of their scenes together, I very much like how Butch and Kai seduce each other – obviously they’ve both had their fair share of experiences, so they approach it like a negotation. It’s oddly sweet, and I loved Kai’s “don’t laugh at the music”.

“Bill isn’t Freddie’s first Bill,” John says. The aforementioned Bill and Freddie shit talk some more. “And Freddie isn’t Bill’s first Freddie.” I am delighted with this Bill/Freddie connection – this is one of the most contrived relationships in the show. It’s as if Milch said, “You know who it’d be really interesting to pair up? Bill and Freddie. Let’s have Zip tell him to get on that.” I’m glad they did, because Dayton Callie and Ed O’Neill abuse each other with aplomb. Bill and his soliloquys have been some of the most interesting bits of this show. One wonders now just who he’s been addressing all this time – the birds or his dead Lois, who apparently fell down the stairs? Bill is the most unabashedly Milchian character on the show, given to these heinously long lines with baroque construction and a lecturing delivery, and I am eating it all up. So when Bill drags up a seat with Freddie, to balance out the drug dealer’s malign influence, you have to wonder where this is going. Are these two supposed to function as the chorus?

A few quick notes about Freddie before moving on to the question of John’s provenance: what is Freddie’s fixation with shapeshifting? During episode 2 (3?) when he is driving Butchie and John to the hospital, he says he doesn’t like the “shapeshifter” in his backseat (referring to John). While John might be a shapeshifter when it comes to his personality, the James Dean wannabe facade never changes. So what the hell did Freddie mean? No answers were forthcoming, and here in e4 we have Freddie talking about his shapeshifting lizard back home. Bill points out that they call those chameleons. But that doesn’t explain it – Freddie did not just misspeak, or forget the word for a chameleon. He has some kind of fixation on shapeshifting or metamorphosis. We’ll see what this is all about in future episodes, I hope.

Anyway! +5 points for the “John = Angel” theory. After getting stabbed (great scene, by the way), John is discovered by Vietnam Joe. As they drive to the hospital, Joe apologizes for not being able to help. “You can help, Joe,” John says. Then John has Joe do a laying on of the hands, et voila – he is healed. John has given Joe redemption for an obliquely referenced past sin of the veteran’s; perhaps Joe had to leave a comrade in the field?

A few more scattered thoughts:

Cass is a serious question mark right now. What’s her occupation, how was she contracted by Linc, why was she so torn up about using Mitch, and was that vision she had some kind of prescience? Is her name meant to be an allusion to Cassandra?

John’s slogan for e4: Tomorrow is a new day. For who? Doc Smith and his seed catalog, obviously, but who else? Shaun’s mother returning late at night signals action on the morrow, I suppose.

Alright, that’s a long and meandering post. Anybody else have some answers to these questions?

Solving John

Episode 3 spoilers to follow.

Where is Cincinnati? I know this doesn’t have any real narrative import (I doubt we’ll ever discover John’s origin), but I think it’s an intriguing question nonetheless.

Way I see it, you’ve got two options: John is an angel or he’s an alien. I’d say there is support for both camps, which look like this:

Angel: Doomsaying and prophecy. John frequently warns Linc that “The End is Near.” Combine that with the “See God, Kai,” and you’ve got a case. By the way, when John made Kai see God, Butchie’s implants flared up as well, and when your implants are a set of steel devil horns (I believe that’s what he said), maybe you just got touched by an angel.

Alien: Mannerisms.  John’s a blank slate, and his sometimes garbled mimicking smacks of an otherworldliness that I wouldn’t credit to one of the Heavenly Host. John seems to be telepathic – in the hospital directly after Shaun’s recovery, he puts together a string of sentences he could not have heard. “Shaun is well and recovered, shit in my pocket, etc.” And then he says, “I’d like to bone you, Kai” – this last one after Linc sends a lingering look towards Kai. I’m thinking John picked up on it.

Right now I’m giving the edge to alien, and we’ll see what happens tonight in Episode 4.

John From Cincy, Ep. 2

*Spoilers for episode 2 to follow. You can catch it on OnDemand if you’re looking for it.*

John from Cincinnati is for fucking real. I can see how the premiere might have seemed a little off-kilter to some, but if episode two doesn’t have you locked in, check your pulse.

At first glance, e2 is an episode about portent, and dark omens on the horizon. The motel owner speaks of a vision, and a temblor rattles Imperial Beach. But this temblor doesn’t bode distant tragedy, because the adrogynous Shaun (he might be Legolas’s younger brother) suffers a crash mid-competition.

The vertebrae at the base of his skull have been shattered. There’s no brain activity. Shaun is brain dead, which is as good as dead in Mitch’s eyes.

So while the stakes get into some Armageddon type proportions, Bruce Greenwood is tearing it up as Mitch Yost. Watching the behind the scenes shows, you can tell he’s kind of a fey guy, but the dude must look in a mirror and gruff up for 20 minutes before they film, because that fucker has got presence. P.S. His first episode “You should mind your own business” was an Anchorman impersonation. I shit you not.

For those who don’t get it: you could use a little ambiguity in your lives. Embrace the fucking mystery and get on board – once this show gets axed because confusing people ain’t profitable, it helps to have plenty of mourners. Hope springs eternal, though, cause this show might have legs. Deadwood needed an 1870s settlement, hundreds of extras, and ten kis of yayo in Brad Dourif’s trailer (why did you think Doc Cochrane SHOUTED suddenly and WITHOUT APPARENT PATTERN?!?). JfC is a smaller show, and if it can keep light and fast, it can keep ahead of the axe. Or maybe HBOs new head dude might love it, in which case he can do a David Chase and say, “Fuck you people, I’m doing what I want to.”

Bonus points for Callie Day and Garret Dillahunt’s return. Day’s scarred face makes him into a sort of gringo Jet Li (did these guys have some Poppovich acne, or did they lose a fight with some sulphuric acid?) Either way, I love what Charlie Utter brings to a show, and his scene with Butchie was genius. Dillahunt is phenomenal – he turned in a drunken master (Jackie Chan and Jet Li in one paragraph. Yes.) performance as Sloe Eyed Jack McCall… he was so good, Milch said, “get your bowler.” So he came back as the beautifully insane Francis Wollcott, and rocked that performance as well. Watch the two in action. All I ask is Dillahunt gets more burn in JfC – dude is too talented to be relegated to the sidelines. Unfortunately, I can’t see this doctor character getting a whole lot of lines, what with Shaun’s recovery impending. Here’s hoping.

I am astonished that within 2 episodes, I was caring that much about the doings of these characters. I needed Monad in that hospital room, needed it worse than I needed Brom Garret to take a fall from a great height.
Black sheep of the angels riding, riding down the line
We think there is a soul, we don’t know
That soul is hard to find