Don’t Hate the Player, Hate the Brain: Review for iZombie 407


Don’t Hate the Player, Hate the Brain:
Review for iZombie 407
by A. Zombie

Oh! Watch out, there. This review has episode spoilers.

It’s no secret I detest scripts where Liv delves into the puddle-depth minds of A-class jerks. This episode is no exception, what with the constantly toying with the rape culture theme like it’s a new Axe body spray samples in a frat house. The plot is, as usual, heavy-handed with some of the messaging, on top of the PUA propaganda dropping straight from the lead actress’ mouth. Yes, it’s propaganda. Written by men who see women as things to possess or use, and then they have the gall to call themselves Pick Up Artists instead of what they are, pure trash. Seattle is a large city. It’s diverse. How on earth are we to believe there’s an epidemic of nothing but dumb white men dying in this place over the course of four years? Television gods, please save our hero from a life steeped in mediocrity.

Despite my dislike, it happens, so let’s see how Liv manages to further screw up her life by again living like a clueless white dude.

Said dude is named Max. Max is a PUA for hire, selling his services to dateless men hoping he will act as the ultimate wingman. Folks, he sucks at it, quite frankly. But, even though he’s boorish, insulting, and disregards his client in front of her, Max still finds a woman to take home for a good time. God grant me the success rate of awful men like this. Max kicks the bucket right after finishing his after-work activity. How on earth does a healthy man die without warning? Someone poisons—somewhat miraculously—only the inside of his condom. The suspect list is long, full of women used by Max in his great scheme to make himself look important. There’s no re

 

al suspects in the group, though one or two provide essential clues which prompt a vision for Liv—Max facing down a scared Fillmore-Graves agent named G. Marsh.

Chatting with the autocrat in charge won’t be comfortable, for anyone. Just about the entirety of Team Zombie has various rough encounters with Chase Graves this episode. Only one person will make it through this takeover with any actual power left, and that’s Graves’ new right-hand man, Major. Stationed above the other FG officers, Major gets handed delightful tasks like ending the brain tube smuggling ring via friendly infiltration and terrorizing a small-press newspaper. Even Peyton gets a metaphorical slap on the cheek from Chase when she and the mayor confront him about the armed men who shot up the newspaper office. Graves is so set in his plan, he’s going full T***p, claiming any reports of Fillmore-Graves misdeeds are “fake news.” Chase does manage to help Clive and Liv with their investigation, but relishes making them wait to talk to the recently-frozen Marsh.

New kinds of people in the world means new ways for men to abuse women, and of course this show points the spotlight right at it while forcing Liv to perpetuate the poor behavior. Before the deep freeze, Marsh hired Max and his technique worked. Marsh, being a piece of walking dog poo, didn’t tell the woman he hooked up with that night about being a zombie, then later asked Max to get on the stand during a Fillmore-Graves trial to claim the victim begged to be turned. You know, rhetoric straight from the rape culture handbook, and handled with the sensitivity of a bull in a china shop. Some detective work leads Clive and Liv to find the woman’s ID. Turns out she is in their group of disgruntled women in Max’s wake and cooked up a story to distance herself from her trauma, along with her new name. New things don’t change how much these men violated he

 

r. With Marsh frozen, she unleashed her anger on Max, using her job to create the perfect murder weapon for a womanizer. None of us are sorry she killed the guy, so this is just another chance for the writers to force awful ideas into Liv’s head.

Liv spends the episode simultaneously hitting on Levon and helping him plan for the next batch of newcomers over the New Seattle wall. They desperately need to secure ID cards for the incoming zombies, or a way to feed them, whichever is easier. They start at Brother Love’s church, where he miraculously provides for his flock. The meeting is a mess from the get-go, what with Angus’ new bigot pal oh, so ready to assume everyone’s a threat. Then there’s the whole whacky Ten Commandments for the undead, which somehow doesn’t convince them to run the second they read it. Angus’ reticence to disclose his brain source is alarm number three Levon and Liv overlook in the name of the greater good. It’s capped off by Angus uncomfortably flirting with Liv by praising her as a pure zombie specimen, like any good white supremacist would when trying to bring young women into the club as bait for others. The deal breaker is, oddly, Angus’ relationship with Blaine, and not the unwelcomed flirtation. Liv gladly finds a new way to proceed when Max’s murder case takes her and Clive to the office where all zombie paperwork is processed and held. The end of this scene is great. Clive knows something’s sketchy on Liv’s end, because he’s a good cop and friend. He just about tackles that security guard to help Liv steal the card-maker he doesn’t even know she took, he’s just following his gut, and his guy says his partner needs assistance.

If only Clive had as much insight into his relationship. Instead of talking to Dale, as he should have the second his jealously rose to cause a fit, he goes off of Liv’s word about what she saw and proceeds to go out on the town several times looking for a quick hook-up. Well, he finally just ends up contacting a professional to take care of his needs. Which flings all sorts of red flags in the air for Dale, since she hasn’t done more than make out with a few men after declaring their relationship open. Men, just talk to your ladies. Seriously. Eighty percent of romcom scenarios would never happen with open, honest communication.

Liv’s new criminal enterprise is at risk . . . thanks to a pair of headphones. Guess we’ll find out next time what Peyton thinks of her roommate, the human smuggler.