She has seen the worst of human nature. She has survived heartache, chronic abuse and the spiritual cost of living a life dominated by fear—and that was before the zombipocalypse hit. After all the horror Carol Peletier remains capable not only of love, but of taking emotional risks to express that affection. Carol is a survivor in so many ways that have nothing to do with putting a dent into a zombie’s skull.
Who is Carol Peletier? She is a character from The Walking Dead—a series of graphic novels by Robert Kirkman turned into one of the world’s hottest cable television shows by AMC and an insanely talented production crew. They have created cast of characters I have expressed a great deal of love for:
If you aren’t watching the show you should be. From the moment the show begins viewers are taken on the undead ride of a lifetime, watching a cast of beleaguered humans fight not only to survive, but to retain that which makes us most human.
Carol—played with stunningly intricate nuances by Melissa McBride—is the main survivor group’s mother figure. She, more than any of the other females, is able to consistently put aside her own hurts and doubts, to reach out and nurture those around her. In this regard Carol represents the best in human nature, a truly pure spirit we should all be so lucky to have in our lives.
[***WARNING: Spoilers ahead***]
From the get-go viewers could look at Carol and say, “This is a woman who has seen hell.” The way that Melissa McBride handles such a delicate character is brilliant—the little subtleties during her interactions around any man that told more about the extent of the abuse the character suffered than the one instance of on-screen abuse at the hands of her husband Ed in season one were chilling.
But it was also apparent right away she was a survivor. Whether for herself or the child she loves, Carol would find a way to persevere. And Carol’s true beauty was that her strength of spirit was there all along. We just couldn’t quite see it clearly behind the thick veil of abuse.
Carol is the epitome if motherhood on the show. She’s always there for the children. Teaches them in makeshift class rooms. Heck, she’ll even do a stranger’s laundry. She shows appreciation by taking care of others. No one forces Carol to do laundry. Unlike Andrea, who very much wants to throw off the restrictions she feels her gender ties her down with.
Carol sees suffering and reaches out, even at the risk of getting slapped for it. No other character on the show could have told Daryl what he so desperately needed to hear out loud—that while he may not have the education, experience or training of men like Rick and Shane, he is every bit as good as they are. While others like Dale may have seen or felt instinctually that Daryl needed this to help further the evolution he is experiencing, it was Carol that had the right combination of courage and empathy to deliver.
And then…there was Sophia.
Sophia was the light in Carol’s darkness. A child that, no matter what, brought joy and love into her life when an abusive husband sought to rob her of her dignity. In the aftermath of Sophia’s disappearance we saw both Carol’s finest and weakest moments.
Anyone who knows the pain of losing a child was physically shaking during Carol’s interaction with Daryl in the horse stable. What kind of strength does it take to tell someone that the search is over? To admit that you have to let go of your only child? Good grief, just writing that gives me goosebumps. Nothing, absolutely nothing, in this world compares to losing a child…the pain is physical, a paralyzing terror. And yet, somehow Carol has the strength of spirit to embrace a mother’s worst nightmare in an attempt to save the life of another.
My one big issue with the Sophia situation was that Carol took a back seat in the search for her child. Intellectually I understand this might have been the result of years of abuse and being pushed to the background until you yourself believe you have no contribution to make, and again McBride’s portrayal was brilliant. But everything in my core bucked against it, and I found myself itching to drive down to Georgia and start searching for a fictional character myself. That could have been difficult to explain later on….
But the real question now is—can Carol continue to survive?
We saw the battle Andrea fought after losing her sister Amy. Andrea and Carol have different kinds of strength, and Andrea appears to have found a way to pull through. Carol has now lost her source of joy, her anchor. Will that be it….the event that finally breaks her beautiful spirit?
He sure has balls for a Chinaman. Oh wait…he’s Korean. Whatever. What he is, is the kind of person I’d like to have at my side when the worst happens. When the horde is gathering and the body parts are flying—no matter what emotions may be racing through his adrenaline-hyped body—he remains practical, strategic, capable…and caring.
Even though Glenn isn’t really real, his innate ability to simultaneously make me smile and feel completely safe makes this young man a keeper on my post-apocalyptic wish list of companions.
If you aren’t watching the show you should be. From the moment the show begins viewers are taken on the undead ride of a lifetime, watching a cast of beleaguered humans fight not only to survive, but to retain that which makes us most human.
Glenn’s honesty and bravery are consistently challenged in this world gone mad…and every.single.time he rises to the challenge. He remains loving and very humane in the way he interacts. The world has changed, but for Glenn—played by Steven Yeun—this bloody new reality doesn’t change the compassion he has for his fellow man. Dale may be the sage within the main survivor group, but Glenn is the group’s hope personified.
[***WARNING: Spoilers ahead***]
I’d like to say it’s his youth more than anything else that causes the disparaging remarks Glenn faced early on. Daryl Dixon’s banter around Glenn’s nationality, calling him ‘short round’ and wanting to see how red Glenn’s face would get when he drank alcohol were all pretty non-PC digs that speak to how Caucasians see stereotypes about Asians. But if we’re going to go there, …and the show certainly did, Glenn does have some “common” Asian traits. He’s generally quiet and observant, the kind of guy who assesses a situation before acting. Glenn is practical and good at devising thoughtful strategies to deal with a difficult situation. Yes, he can be a little dorky, a comic geek. But as we’ve moved into the halfway point of season two even Daryl has had to admit—if just by easing up– that Glenn’s Asianness (is that a word?) helps enhance his ability to make vital contributions to the group.
Maggie said that Glenn is a leader but the group doesn’t respect him. I think she’s right, and wrong, on both counts. Whether you ascribe to the Rick or Shane school of leadership, both understand the importance of information and how it can affect group dynamics. Glenn is discreet…and apparently very eager to learn about spark plugs. But he is unable to make a judgment call on information without seeking advice. Glenn’s bravery is unrivalled within the group. Some may ask him to do questionable things that take advantage of his bravery, …but that is not necessarily a sign of disrespect or lack of value. It is a sign of need. Glenn can do these things and remain…Glenn. The longer he survives, the older he gets, the more Glenn will come to be what Maggie already sees in him.
Glenn is the best kind of team player. He’s a caretaker. Glenn values every individual in the group and is willing to use his abilities to help protect not only their physical wellbeing, but also their emotional welfare, without any real thought about what it might cost him. Some might call it naïve—and Glenn himself admitted to falling into the trap of not seeing the zombies for the threat they present—but in a very real way this makes Glenn the heart and soul of the group. Their best hope at staying human.
Glenn sees in Maggie the opportunity to really feel alive again. Later, he admits to Dale exactly that, that he wants to be with her to feel something other than the terror of living day to day in the world of the walkers…when he might be dead tomorrow. But this poses a huge dilemma for Glenn. He makes promises to Maggie that could potentially spell trouble for the people with whom he has been through so much. Glenn is incapable of putting Rick and the others in danger, even at the cost of his personal life. Balancing his wants and needs with that of the group, and what he views as right, is no easy feat. Yet somehow Glenn handles the situation with poise and honor.
When we first met Glenn he was doing what—if we’re all being really honest with ourselves—many would not. His willingness to risk his own life to help a stranger, a dumbass stuck in a tank surrounded by walkers, was a reflection of both youthful bravado and the principles to which Glenn holds dear. Rick asks Glenn why he has taken such a major risk. His response? “Call it foolish, naïve, hope. That if I’m ever that far up shit creek, somebody might do the same for me. Guess I’m an even bigger dumbass than you.”
Hope is the operative word in that exchange…it is Glenn.
He can toss, shoot and gut pretty much any animal with the flick of a knife. He can even turn squirrel sushi into a finger-lickin’ meal. Like the animals this survivor is known to hunt, he is natural, untamed and fierce. But unlike his prey—which instinctively know their place in the food chain, and the world—he is searching, taking emotional bumps and bruises in the quest to become the person he is meant to be.
That this struggle takes place against the backdrop of a make believe zombiepocalypse doesn’t make Daryl Dixon’s journey any less enthralling to watch.
Who is Daryl Dixon? He is a character from The Walking Dead—a series of graphic novels by Robert Kirkman turned into one of the world’s hottest cable television shows by AMC and an insanely talented production crew. And like the tormented character of Shane Walsh for whom I’ve already expressed great affection, Daryl Dixon has an uncanny ability to pull at my heartstrings.
If you aren’t watching the show you should be. From the moment the show begins viewers are taken on the undead ride of a lifetime, watching a cast of beleaguered humans fight not only to survive, but to retain that which makes us most human.
Like many of the characters within the main survivor group Daryl—played by Norman Reedus—is changing as a result of circumstances surrounding the arrival of the age of zombie. He may not be the most educated or well-spoken survivor left on the planet, but the zombiepocalypse has afforded Daryl the opportunity to demonstrate his worth—to others, but also…to himself—while swinging his crossbow in intoxicating style.
Daryl is the everyman. The character almost every viewer can identify with.
He is battling the “nuture” he has experienced in his life to honor the “nature” that is within. The age of zombie has given Daryl what so many of us would like (though, obviously, without the zombie part)—a chance to emerge from the hurt, disappointment and mistakes of the past to become the man he never really dared hope was within.
He trips. He falls…spectacularly. And yet, every time he does, Daryl picks himself up and finds a way to battle on. Some of the stumbles are more painful than others, some may not actually be hurts Daryl can overcome.
(***Warning: Spoilers ahead***)
Defining his self-worth in his own eyes and the eyes of others matters…a lot (even if Daryl himself would probably throw something at me for saying it). I believe Carol had it right when she said Daryl is every bit as good as Rick and Shane. He is…but he just can’t quite believe it yet. There is darkness in Daryl’s past—we’ve all seen the sledgehammer hints of the kind of childhood Daryl survived. Bigotry. Distrust. Criminal activity. Emotionally abusive family members. All have left their scars. Left him unable to truly trust himself or others, even though it’s obvious he wants to.
Daryl is brave, thoughtful and capable. Three characteristics his despicable older brother Merle overshadowed, and would probably disagree with, especially when used to help defend pansies, ni**ers and democrats. With Merle out of the picture Daryl is able to use his innate personality traits and survival skills the way he wants to—as a force for good.
Daryl put his soul into the search for Sophia. In a very real way, the opportunity to find and save Sophia became a vehicle through which Daryl could do for another what no one did for him; a way to take a profound hurt that had followed him into adulthood and turn it into a powerful positive. He did everything anyone could have possibly asked of him, …and more. The search nearly cost him his life, and he would have kept at it no matter the cost. That he neither found, nor saved her—and that she came to such a gruesome end—is like a blow from Thor’s hammer.
Daryl needs Carol. She is damaged but a survivor…and one who is able to love and demonstrate affection without true fear despite what experience has taught her of love. She is the polar opposite of Merle, the nurturing force Daryl has been missing in his life. In this regard she is what Daryl could be if he continues down the path he has chosen.
Daryl suffers for his brother’s love. Daryl both loves and loathes Merle. Merle’s brand of love is harsh, demanding…abusive. But when the chips are down and there’s almost nothing left to cling to it is to Merle that Daryl’s subconscious turns to help him survive. Merle may very well be the only love Daryl has ever really known—he helped mold Daryl into the survivor that he is, but he also stunted his baby brother’s development. Somewhere deep inside Daryl knows Merle kept him from being the man he could be…a truth he’d take a swing at you for voicing, but a reality he is working very hard to change.
Every time I see him I am reminded of why opening up your heart to anyone is at best a calculated risk, and at worst a fool’s errand. He is strong and capable, but simultaneously tormented and weak. He is—despite his claims to the contrary—too human for his own good.
The fact that he is not really real should keep me from feeling too sad, but it doesn’t…because I am in love with Shane Walsh.
Who is Shane Walsh? He is a character from The Walking Dead—a series of graphic novels by Robert Kirkman turned into one of the world’s hottest cable television shows by AMC and an insanely talented production crew.
If you aren’t watching the show you should be. From the moment the show begins viewers are taken on the undead ride of a lifetime, watching a cast of beleaguered humans fight not only to survive, but to retain that which makes us most human.
In that regard Shane is both succeeding and failing spectacularly.
And every time he makes the wrong decision for the right, or wrong, reason it both breaks my heart and makes me love the character even more.
Now I could probably write 50,000 words on this based on events in seasons one and two, thus far, in the show—but in the interest of finishing this before the end of the year I’m going to attempt to keep this brief.
When the zombieapocalypse began to unfold it presented an opportunity for an average guy like Shane to reach into his core and become something different, better…greater, than he had been previously. He could emerge from the shadow of a mediocre life to become a leader…to prove his worth to those he cares about, to what is left of the world.
Shane is capable of the more practical aspects of survival—handling firearms, securing a water supply or repairing a broken down car. He is able to pull the trigger when necessary (and, on occasion, when it might not be). He sees The Walking Dead’s zombie-infested world for what it really is and doesn’t shy away from the difficult decisions.
But his downfall is that he has convinced himself he can see survival in a zombified world in physical terms—claiming he can ‘flip an emotional switch’ and do what needs to be done no matter how horrific to survive. The truth is that he cannot.
He has hog-tied his emotional wellbeing to a relationship with a woman and child that cannot be, and does not have the emotional fortitude or maturity to find anything else good in this make-believe world worth holding on to. It colors his every decision, and eats away at him like an internal zombie virus—incurable, unstoppable. All around him the broader tragedies continue to unfold, and every.single.one leaves him less able than the one before to honestly cope with this terrifying new world.
Every time he stumbles Shane is propelled down a darker path, taken away from that which is good in himself—that to which he once aspired and what remains in his stress-twisted mind what he has become.
Yet at the same time…Shane is often right, even when his tactics make my stomach churn.
(**WARNING: Spoilers ahead**)
He was right to tell Lori Rick was dead. Shane did the best Shane could do in a life threatening situation and knew Lori would never leave if there was a chance Rick remained alive. That he did it, at least in part, motivated by selfish reasons makes me ill, …but he was right.
He was right about the mission to find Merle that split the group and left the camp less-defended. Was the search necessary? To maintain some semblance of humanity—yes, it was necessary. In terms of survival? Questionable at best. Over the long-term winning the loyalty of Daryl Dixon gives the group a powerful, very capable ally. But it also left the group smaller, with less people to defend the humanity they’re all clinging to.
He was right about Sophia. Standard operating procedure. After 72 hours, you’re looking for a body folks. He delivered the message like a bludgeon. It won him few friends, but he was right. And it was only when faced with the decision to destroy something so pure as the innocence of a child’s hope did he relent and be the man he could be in a different world.
He was right about the barn. Leave or clear out the walkers. Faced with the sight of Rick following the lead of a man completely deluding himself about the state of the word, Shane leapt into action. Survive or die. Make your choice. That Shane had to rip at the human fabric of every other survivor on the farm to drive home this point is despicable. It was a massacre—plain and simple. And none of them will ever be the same.
And then….there’s Otis. It was Shane’s defining moment. A decision made for a multitude of right and wrong reasons, mashed together in a stew of human suffering that left no doubt…Shane can never be the man he would like to think he has become. I would like nothing better than to condemn this moment with every derogatory word in the English language. Dale said in the mid-season finale that Shane belongs in this world. I believe it is destroying him and Otis’ death was his primal roar to the universe—an act of supreme suffering and animal rage to take the life of another to save his own…knowing, somewhere deep inside, that by doing so he was committing emotional suicide.
********************
Wanted to add this in as the discussion on FB was quite lively. Seems I am not the only one rooting for Shane.
The mid-season finale for season 2 of The Walking Dead had a lot riding on it. I’m not talking about character drama, either. This first half of the season needed to live up to audience’s expectations. We were given a grab-you-by-the-throat first season of TWD. With only six episodes to make an impact, the creators and writers drove the plot and us hard, fast, and dirty. The pacing became a huge part of the appeal. With more episodes to play with, the pacing has suffered greatly. And unfortunately, it is turning people away. Episode 7 had to snag viewers attention again before the break. Did it succeed?
They wasted no time jumping into the major issue at hand: the barn. Glenn’s loyalty is seriously tested in his budding relationship with Maggie. He is torn between keeping secrets he’s sworn to by someone he just met, but feels a deep connection with, or manning up and telling the group of people that have helped him survive this long. In the end, I think he chose correctly and I think Maggie understands he did what he had to. She’s beginning to realize Hershel’s way of coping with the changes in the world aren’t the only way to do things. It only took her nearly being turned into a walker at the pharmacy to figure it out, though. Sometimes it takes a close call that rattles your world to see clearly.
The debate between Rick and Hershel about the occupants of the barn brought up a very good question: In a situation like the zombie apocalypse, is it naive to assume that all humans should band together to protect each other? Rick clings on to the hope that despite their differences in opinion, his crew and Hershel’s family can still coexist, all in the name of being safe. But from what we’ve seen, Rick forcing the issue of banding together has caused more issues. Hershel pulls his family and supplies in closer to his chest. He flat-out refuses any help from the other survivors. There’s a line in the sand, or rather a trench that’s filled with the fires of hell. Hershel cannot bring himself to even approach the line and consider the two factions becoming one group. They question his faith, the way he’s done things since even before the walkers came into existence. For someone living on the edge, that is as dangerous as approaching a zombie unarmed. In Hershel’s world it is his way or go away. No one is allowed to question him.
In the face-off between Dale and Shane we see glimpses of the same ruthless attempt to cling to control from both of the men. Unfortunately Dale isn’t a fighter. He will protect. He will give sage advice and be there if you need someone to unload all of your issues on, but he isn’t a trigger man. He tries to stand up for what he believes is the right thing and is cowed by Shane’s overwhelming presence. Does he see logic in the way Shane is handling things? Probably not. Dale isn’t a fool, though. He knows the kind of man Shane is. He also knows he can rely on that cold inner core Shane possesses to get things done, even if it scares the heck out of him.
Someone I thought would always keep that cold core is Daryl. This season has turned my perception of the mighty squirrel hunter on ear. He’s deep. Emotional. Caring. And completely clueless on how to make any sort of relationship with others work. Each time he opens up, he instantly shuts down and reverts to the “old” Daryl. Carol is the only person to consistently see into his heart, but not even she is safe from the out lash of self-loathing Daryl dives in to. He constantly slips back into the mindset likely formed by his lack of a real family unit. Why love yourself when no one else seems to give a damn? Carol cares and makes it very clear he can’t push her away. Will this tentative step towards an actual connection with another person (one not a figment of his imagination) lead to something more?
[Caution: spoilers below. If you have not watched the episode yet, walk away.]
I’d be remiss if I didn’t talk about the final scene of the episode. Everything in the last six episodes came to a boiling point. Shane gave all of that anger, frustration, and lack of forward movement a voice. A very loud voice. I may not be on Team Shane, but he did what he thought he had to do to keep the family he wishes were his safe. Could he have gone about it better? Totally. It still had to be taken care of. How many more walkers would the barn have held? Did Hershel honestly think he could keep going for god knows how long simply shoving the undead away under a metaphorical rug? Eventually the rug gets so lumpy you trip and crack your head open. I think Hershel would have gone on until he himself became infected. He was so set in his idea that the zombies are still living that he couldn’t see the danger staring at him.
Even with Shane being the voice of the turmoil on the farm, it ended up being Rick who took care of the most difficult part of the entire season thus far. My own frustration came to a head when Sophia emerged from the barn. They’ve been searching so hard for so long and she’d been maybe a hundred yards away the whole time. When I sat to think about the episode, I had to wonder if Hershel realized that one of the walkers he’d captured was the little girl they were all looking for. Were his protests to leave the barn alone multifaceted? We know he thought he was keeping his “sick” family safe, but had he been hiding the truth of Sophia’s condition as well?
For as many questions as the mid-season finale (finally) answered, it posed a ton of others. Will Rick move his crew off the farm? Can Hershel look past his faith to see the world for how it really is? What will Maggie and Glenn do? I could go on and on with the questions rattling around my head. Which I probably will considering it is a very long wait until February when the second half of The Walking Dead season 2 kicks off.
This week The Walking Dead seemed to be missing something. They covered a lot of ground as far as addressing each characters plot arc but there was a key something missing. Oh, I know. Action.
Don’t mistake, I do enjoy watching our survivors grow and evolve to adjust to the harsh reality of the zombie apocalypse. That being said, it is a zombie apocalypse. They are fighting every day to survive. We were spoiled by the fast pace of the first season. The writers couldn’t take an entire episode to tie up all of their loose plot strings before the mid-season finale. That’s what they did here, gave us what I refer to as a “catch up” episode to put the ducks in a row in prep for next week, which from the previews promises the action we missed this week and then some. I hope.
We finally get to see Carl back on his feet this week. Right away it is painfully obvious that being shot has affected how he views the world. Carl is beginning to mature faster than we, with our modern sensibilities, think he should. But there is nothing Lori and Rick can do to stop this natural progression. He is old enough to realize their dire situation and wants to help protect the people he loves. Carl probably sees the world with truer eyes than anyone else when he tells his mother about the missing chicken, “Maybe she got eaten. Everything’s food for something else.” That’s the reality they live in. Some of the survivors simply refuse to see it.
That friggen barn is going to give me fits. Hershel’s ideals surrounding the occupants of the barn seem utterly ridiculous when put in contrast to what we’ve seen our band of nomads go through in and around Atlanta. We know these creatures are dead. We know that the synapses, those electric keys to what makes a human a human, aren’t working. All of this was covered for Rick’s crew at the CDC. There is no cure. These people aren’t sick. They are dead. Again, you can see Hershel’s faith coming in to play. He can’t kill the people he knows and loves. The guilt of putting them down would shatter the last marble he’s got rattling around in his stubborn brain. So instead of doing what we deem humane, he keeps zombie pets. To him it is the right thing because the Bible tells him not to kill. But what does the Good Book teach us about survival? Self defense? Turn the other cheek with a zombie and you’ll get a hole in your face.
Turning a blind eye to other situations can land you in the same sort of hot water, only this time the scars are emotional. Lori tries everything she can to avoid telling Rick about her pregnancy. She talks herself in endless circles about the future and what it could hold for her family. Admittedly, what set her off was the near-death of her son, Carl. As a mother I hope to never, ever be in a similar situation. Watching Lori go through it was bad enough. But… are her fears grounded? She says, “Memories are what keep me going”, then goes on to predict her unborn child’s future of nothing but pain and an early death. Life is what you make of it. If they leave the farm, they have months to find a new home base and settle in before the baby comes. There are plenty of areas similar to Hershel’s farm, in close proximity to cities with supplies, which they could move into. One has to wonder if she is worrying about her baby or what will happen if Rick entertains the idea that the baby isn’t his. She’d lose her hero, her husband, and the only one she can actually trust to keep her and Carl safe.
Dragged into the middle of Lori’s crisis is poor Glenn. He is trying, he really is, but still has a long way to go to be the hero he wants to become. The first step? Learn how to lie better. I’d play poker against Glenn any day. That lack of being able to hide the ugly truth is, unfortunately, a key tool of a leader. Sometimes you need to keep things from others to keep them calm and manageable. Rick does this often to give his crew the sense of stability they need while recovering from injuries. What Glenn isn’t lacking, though, is nerve. When the one person he really sees as his to protect is in danger, he went all Rambo. I would like to remind everyone that severing the spine does not kill a walker. Headshots, guys. Glenn nearly forgot, but it did make for an interesting zombie effect. After his hero moment, Maggie finally acknowledges what is inside his heart. She also sees how, in his effort to become more, to rise in the pack structure, Glenn could get himself good and dead.
If you paid attention to this episode, you will notice that there is one character with his nose in everything. The writers have taken Dale’s position as the “wise old man” a tad too far. We already knew that not much escapes his attention. Dale isn’t out in the woods, cut off from the core of the action. No, he stays perched on top on the RV simply watching. But it really bugs me that they felt in order to tie up all of these story lines they needed to use Dale so blatantly. He’s there when Carl expresses his desire to grow up more. Dale is the one to confront Hershel about the barn’s occupants. Heck, he even tries to help Lori about her baby issues. And the topper, Dale goes nose to nose with Shane about his erratic behavior after Otis’s death. There are other, less obvious ways to wrap things up for the mid-season finale. We didn’t need Dale to narrate it for us. He’s far too good a character to use like that.
Next week is the last episode we’ll get in 2011. There are still a lot of questions to be answered. Is Sophia still alive? Will Lori abort the pregnancy after all? Is Shane finally at the end of his rope? Guess we’ll have to wait and see.
The Walking Dead: Chupacabra (205) Reviewer: RC Murphy
This episode had a lot going for it. A. Lot. So much so that I had to sleep on an idea on how to tackle this review. Which, by the way, didn’t help one dang bit. My head is still spinning. The writers for TWD are mean, mean people. I’m just going to jump right in and hope this makes sense.
Carol broached the subject of an internal power ranking system for the original group of survivors. For Hershel’s family, it is obvious who is in charge. With the other group it gets fuzzy because there are so many males vying for that top spot. You have to look at them like a pack of wolves. As Carol sees it, and others as well, Rick and Lori are the Alpha mating pair. Where it gets murky is trying to rank the rest of the group. Who is the Omega member? That one person left to fend for them self until they prove their worth, takes the brunt of everyone’s aggression, but also is there to ease tension in their own way. Can you guys figure it out?
Glenn and Maggie get a lot of grief this episode as people begin to connect the dots and see something brewing between the two. Maggie is treated like a child, scolded for making the decision to get close to someone not approved by Hershel. He has such a tight grip on everyone who lives on that farm that the idea of one of his slipping free to interact with the newcomers tweaks his nose big time. She’s lonely and wants to reach out to feel alive again after god knows how long of simply existing. Glenn flat out admits to Dale his reason behind wanting Maggie. Any day could be his last. In a world where the dead don’t stay dead nothing is certain, least of all tomorrow. That being said, poor Glenn needs lessons in wooing a lady. Maybe Shane, the ladies man that he is, can teach him a few things. Or not. Shane can gather notches on his headboard, but none of them are meaningful relationships. I don’t think he’s capable of that.
Speaking of, Shane makes a very telling statement about the passage of time after the zombie outbreak:
“It’s like we’re old folks, the people in our story are all dead.”
They’ve been living on the run for less than a year, from what I can tell. In that time everyone they knew, except for the family and friends traveling with them, have probably been eaten, turned to walkers, or just died. A year for your life to flip completely upside down and turn “I know her” to “I knew her”. It’s really a hard concept to grasp. This also means that time is not measured in days, but resources. Rick’s guilt over leaving Sophia doesn’t cause Shane to lash out about time wasted, but people injured or killed during the hunt. Yes, people are resources, especially after you’ve established a camp and everyone has their separate duties to uphold.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t address the Dixon brothers. Honestly, when I heard Merle would be back I could not figure out how the heck the writers were going to make that one work. A lot of far-fetched things happen on the show, but the long-lost brother walking out of the shrubbery? Impossible.
* * * * *
[Slight spoiler below. If you haven’t watched, turn away now.]
* * * * *
That being said, how messed up does your family have to make you in order for your subconscious to kick up the image of your abusive, druggie brother to play cheerleader? I mean, it is very obvious that Merle never did anything to help Daryl, even when he was a child. Daryl has been left to fend for himself over and over again by his brother. So what the heck? Leaning on personal experience, I know how far one will go to prove to their sibling that they aren’t needed any more. Everything is moving on just fine without them there to muck up the gears. Even in the end of that scene, Daryl did not reach for Merle. He got himself out of the bad situation. Only to walk into another one that he has no control over. No Merle cheerleader to provoke him into action that time.
Normally I’m all about women fighting against gender roles and branching out to do “manly things”. Unfortunately, Andrea goes about it all wrong. She is very fragile emotionally, I get that. The last few weeks of her life have been spent planning how to opt out of existence so she can join her dead. Then Daryl pops some sense into her head, but she is still torn. If she can’t leave then she wants a bigger role; she wants to move up within the “pack”, so-to-speak. Her drive to be more nearly costs someone their life. Where is that line between challenging the “norm” and knowing when to fall back and follow orders? Andrea crossed it, no doubt about that. Will this incident throw her back into where she was or can she press on with her reforming backbone?
One last note… Who the heck is in the barn?! I want to hear your theories about the barn’s occupants. Next week we’ll see if any of us were correct.
It has to be said, Greg Nicotero and his crew really, really, really outdid themselves for this episode. If you haven’t watched yet, just be prepared for a scene worse than Rick taking an ax to a decomposing walker in season one’s “Guts” episode. Oh, and don’t even think about eating. I had to leave a bowl of ice cream to melt on my side table.
With the nod to outstanding and epic grossness out of the way, lets dig into the meat of the episode. (Did you just gag a little? So did I. Promise that’s the last intestinal pun in this review.)
Can we address the Shane problem? Last week’s review lit off a small debate in the ZSC command center about whether or not Shane acted within reason given the circumstances he was in. I was hoping this week he’d give us a clear direction his head is going, but it became impossible to tell if the guilt eating him alive stems from using a good man as zombie bait or because he feels that he failed Otis in some way by leaving him behind. Later in the episode he tells Andrea that in order to kill you basically have to turn off everything that makes you human and act on instinct. The need to survive is a strong instinct, I’ll give him that. But… wasn’t there another way? A humane way at least?
This episode brought our core group of survivors back together. Once they were all gathered two people stood out, T-Dog and Daryl. T-Dog had a bad patch in the last episode, meaning he lost his ever-loving mind while burning up with a fever. Some of what he told Dale made sense in a way and that is what haunts him. The idea that because the group may see him as weak, it could cost him his spot with them. How rough would things have to get for any of them to look at T-Dog and, essentially, vote him off the “island”? He could simply be paranoid with a bit of brain fry from the infection… or maybe he’s got every right to fear being left behind.
Then you’ve got Daryl who seems from the get-go to want nothing to do with anyone on the farm, whether they are original survivors or part of the new group living there. As soon as they parked he was off into the woods alone. All of that progress he made being a decent man around Andrea vanished. Only thing I can think of is he fears opening up, at least until the Cherokee Rose. Daryl gave Carol a deeper look into himself than he has with anyone. Again he knew exactly what she needed to hear and gave it to her in this wonderfully sad story about the flower. He knows that crying won’t bring him Merle back, but also understands that Carol needs the tears to voice her grief, worry, and the sliver of hope that Sophia will come back.
Seeing where everyone ended up this episode has me rethinking what I said about Glenn last week. I assumed that he would likely jump at the chance to ride at Rick’s side again when he resumes the hero role. Only… Glenn became his own hero this week. Sure there was a lot of awkward moments where he became really goofy and cute, however you’ve got to give the man a hand at lassoing a bloated zombie like that. We know he’s not exactly a smooth talker with the ladies, but Glenn is growing out of the sidekick role if he keeps this up. Go, Glenn, go!
I’ll wrap this up with a quick thought on something Hershel said to Rick. Faith seems to play a huge part in how Hershel approaches life. He sees God’s hand in everything around him. If a rainbow forms after a storm, God sent it. A car hits a man on his way to dinner with his wife; God decided it was his time to go “home”. But, you see, I cannot fathom how his faith holds up when faced with the animated corpse of someone he knew. Is Jesus cleverly disguised in the blood splatter and we just can’t see it because the need to survive has blinded us to faith? Or is Hershel clinging to the one thing he has left to give him hope for his family? That’s got to be it. Mankind will tell themselves anything to maintain hope, even if it means believing in a miracle cure that’ll never come, from God or mankind.
The only warning I got before tuning into a replay of this week’s “The Walking Dead” came from my mother, of all people. I told her I needed to catch up, she replied, “All I’ll say is, when Daryl is the sane one, you know things got bad.” With that statement in mind I tuned in… and quickly realized how right she’d been.
I’ll get back to Daryl in a moment, but we’ve gotta talk about Shane. This man strives to be the hero that Rick is, and fails miserably. He tries too hard. Doesn’t plan his strategy. Shane barges in headfirst and damn anything or anyone that gets in his way. That would be a good trait except for the fact that Shane’s motives are purely selfish. He didn’t go off to fetch supplies for Carl. He rode into the sunset, hoping that the display he made would get him back in Laurie’s good graces. I spent a good chunk of the hour grinding my teeth at Shane.
And because Shane has his head wedged, Glen is beginning to have an identity crisis. His main purpose in the first season was to be the sidekick to the hero. Well, our actual hero isn’t in the game. He’s sidelined with his family, holding their breath to see what the future holds for Carl. Glen can’t help there and he realizes it. The guy trying to be the hero isn’t, leaving Glen to flounder around searching for someone to connect to that he can help. It seems he’s found that in Maggie, but what will happen when Rick is ready to don the white hat again? Will his Tonto abandon the potential Maggie presents to be just a sidekick again? Only time will tell there. I don’t even try to predict what TWD’s writers will do. They’re kinda crazy.
Speaking of crazy… I can’t believe my mother was right about Daryl. It is a trip to watch this character slowly open up to the other survivors. From the get-go we were supposed to think he’s like his brother, but this episode shot that to hell. We actually see Daryl for the first time. It isn’t the hardass squirrel killer in those woods with Andrea, but an intelligent man who was given the short stick in life and still managed to make the best of it. The way he dealt with Andrea and her determination to opt out of life was brilliant. This is a character to watch, not that you guys weren’t already.
The overall tone of this episode was hopelessness. Each character had a moment when they looked at the world around them and the pressure became too much to handle. Our survivors are beginning to buckle. They are getting desperate and we all know that desperate people do stupid things. The next couple of episodes are going to be interesting, to say the least.
