Swear: Review for The Walking Dead 706
Swear:
Review for The Walking Dead 706
by R.C. Murphy
Episode spoilers below! You’ve been warned.
There’s so much foretelling in this episode, it’s pretty much an outline of how far down the humanity rabbit hole Alexandria will go in the coming episodes to appease the Saviors. The temptation to make Rick and company Those Guys, the ones who’d rob a woman-only group in order to save their own hides, is irresistible. Oh, it may not seem in the cards by episode’s end, but the idea is planted.
How do we meet this new Ocean Side community? By Tara washing up on the beach like a piece of debris blown off a yacht. But that’s not even what happens first. This episode suffers from an acute case of flashbackitis. So we open with soggy Tara nearly being stabbed by the world’s most aggressive tween, then jump back to her and Heath arguing about not finding anything during their two-week outing. It does this constantly, without real rhyme or reason, throughout the episode. Like teasing Heath’s welfare will finally make him a part of the TWD universe instead of using a rising actor’s name to leave on the credits for attention. Why bother bringing in hard-hitters if they get two powerhouse minutes in as many seasons? AMC likes to collect actors in their stable, then never unleash their potential. And for this reason, they jacked up continuity to force tension over the welfare of a character fans don’t know well enough to mourn. A shame, really. Heath’s passionate speech in the RV is some of the best emotional reaction work on the show. They made him virtually forgettable, but made it clear he’ll never forget what they did at that Savior outpost.
Okay, but seriously, what about the new community? After Tara wakes, she stalks her savior, Cyndie, through dense forest until she finds dilapidated cabins, but thriving people. Some seriously jumpy people, at that. As more of Ocean Side comes into view, one thing is evident: There’s only women, girls, and boys under a certain age. Anyone with a twisted mind took a whopping two seconds to figure out why this particular group came along at this point in the story—they’re the example of why not to fight the Saviors. An ill-advised war cost them every single man, plus any boy over ten, as well as their trust in humanity. Thanks to the Saviors, Tara’s greeted with gunfire and not a hot meal. It takes some talking, and Tara’s awful lies, to garner her freedom. Even that’s fleeting once Natania, Beatrice, and Kathy—presumably the women in charge—realize the grand story Tara tells of killing people at the satellite facility is confession that she attacked the Saviors. The latter two ladies take Tara out of the community, promising to help her find Heath, who ran off after she was swarmed by walkers. In reality, it’s an execution. Tara holds her own for a little in the fight, but Cyndie saves her bacon again, defying her groups’ kill-strangers-on-the-spot mandate in order to actually help Tara. There’s no Heath to be found, of course. He’s long gone, having driven off when Tara went into the river. The writers do take the time to stage a false alarm. It’s almost as if they actually care about Heath.
I’m not buying it.
Even the walkers in this episode are pretty disappointing. The gimmick? A group buried walkers under fine sand and left them that way even after the living abandoned camp. Tara dislodges the sandcastle from hell by tugging on a duffle bag and out crawl a couple dozen walkers. For the most part, the makeup is done with heavy, dirty prosthetics or masks. Both leave the supposedly shriveled walkers with floating head syndrome—where it’s obvious the creature’s face is over a human one because the head is two inches too wide—instead of it reading as an actual monster. Rubber masks are for background actors, not foreground close-ups. What on earth were they thinking with this one? As far as walker gags go, the sand gimmick doesn’t sell as a threat, seems impossible it’d still be intact after all this time, and the sand-encrusted walkers look like rejects from the Universal Studios maze, not the show’s typical carefully-crafted feature creatures for the week.
Yet again, we’re distracted with a lot of nothing instead of getting what we want—Negan from Negan’s point-of-view. The Ocean Side community coming in now does about as much good as tits on a male dog story line wise. Not with the way it’s written. Not coming so long after Glenn and Abraham’s death, and spending a day inside Negan’s home-sweet-home. Sure. Okay. Negan had a bunch of men and boys killed. This is fully within the realm of believability from what we’ve seen. Shock us with his actions at last or get to the war already. This pointless floundering between does nothing but give airtime to advertisers. The episode’s only upside is Tara getting some solid laugh lines. Not worth an hour of my day.
The bad-news pair catch up with Doc and Addy near Wall Drug Store—which is apparently a battleground territory for the budding post-z political system. As expected, they’re riding in style, complete with an armed and gorgeous escort. President Sketchy—yes, you read that right—liberated the limousine from the President Bill Clinton collection at a museum in Little Rock, Arkansas. Sketchy proves he’s a people’s president, giving Addy and Doc a ride after their likewise-liberated Murphymobile overheats and keels over on the roadside. Must mean they’re really good friends. Doc and Addy might feel differently, but they’re stuck now as the presidential motorcade rolls into Wall Drug Store for the next stop on the campaign trail.
Before Doc and Addy force Sketchy to do anything about the more immediate problem, another claimant to the deserted USA throne waltzes into Wall Drug Store. John L. Lannister and Sketchy are probably the worse candidates for the job. They’re full of hot air, empty promises, and so much ego it’s a wonder they fit it inside a limo. This is the moment in the show where they really unleash the full potential of the political-frustration-turned-humor brewing in the writer’s room. Hell, there’s even a jab at TWD when Sketchy and Skeezy argue about the newcomer, revealing they thought Lannister died— no one could’ve survived being surrounded by zombies near a dumpster! Yeah, but it only got that TWD character a little further down the road before he became a splat on the dirt. Lannister’s odds aren’t in his favor.
In Rosebud, it’s bad. The entire population is undead, or committed suicide. Here’s a handy lesson for survivalists: Filters do no good if a zombie head is crammed in the system. Not only is Rosebud a ghost town, but the tainted water is what’s killing the WDS citizens, as well. Good thing they have a doctor on-hand. Kinda. What Doc lacks in in-depth medical knowledge, he makes up with the sheer ability to pay attention. Doc is a sponge, absorbing helpful tidbits here and there. Sure, those helpful tips get lost in the z-weed haze occasionally, but Doc’s always able to make things happen for the better. In this case, he realizes the simplest path is the best and treats the zombie remnants in the water like poison. All it takes is some activated charcoal down the hatch to counteract the urge to chomp on someone.
Just so happens, for now at least, we get to hold onto the knowledge that Glenn’s child lives and is actually perfectly healthy, despite the scare during the season six finale. I spent the first seven minutes clutching a tissue because they kept hitting the Blubbering Idiot button. When Sasha hands over Hershel/Glenn’s watch at the graves, the anguish from both deaths kick the audience in the chest. I wasn’t ready for that callback.
Then Gregory walks over and I want nothing more than to strangle a fictional character. This little slug needs to be salted and left on hot cement already. Everything from his mouth is disgusting and sexist. He’s so self-centered, he can’t remember his own people’s names. And the icing on the cake? Gregory is such a coward, last week’s Rick looked like William Wallace. Gregory damn near licks Simon’s boots when the Saviors arrive to establish a new outpost—by taking half of Hilltop’s stuff. Astoundingly, it only took Gregory five minutes to roll over and attempt to betray Sasha and Maggie. Jesus and the ladies are always five steps ahead of the cretin. Probably because Jesus has lead Hilltop from the backseat while basking in the freedom to roam. Unfortunately, his game made Gregory believe he was the one calling all the right shots. Accordingly, his ego grew. Now that ego threatens to ruin them all. The false bravado of an egomaniac is cheesecloth. One good twist and secrets pour like whey. Only instead of spilling about the ladies hiding in the settlement, he accidentally hands over his scotch supply. Serves him right. By the time all’s said and done, Gregory will have as much power as a thirty year old AAA battery. But I kinda want Maggie to run him over with the tractor, too.
Kids these days. Roller-skating, holding hands, kissing, and plotting to assassinate vicious overlords. Tsk, tsk. Enid can’t wait for news to travel down the grapevine, so she’s going to the source—Maggie. At first, Carl plays cool. He’s not saving her anymore. Yada, yada, yada. She’s peddled maybe two miles down the road by the time he steals a car and tries to impress her by crashing it—twice—while killing walkers. They have a blast on their trip, eventually wheeling to a stop outside Hilltop as Saviors load their loot. That’s when Carl lays out his plan. He’s going on. It’s time to find Negan’s hideout and get revenge. Carl’s plan is daft. One teenager. All alone. No depth perception. Open wound in his face. Enid does what she can to convince him to stay with her. Like that’s going to work. Have you met his father? She goes inside to say her goodbye to Glenn—although she left the balloons on the wrong grave, I still cried. Carl climbs into a truck bound for Saviorland.
To give the old ways a push out the door before we settle into the Alexandria monotony again—though they did take the time to show Rick and Michonne in bed together, first—Negan makes a house call to collect his half of their stuff. The episode is a “90-minute shopping trip,” as several fans put it, with some threats tossed in to make it somewhat bearable. Negan is the snake in Alexandria’s Eden. With Rick by his side, he slithers through taking a mental and physical inventory of his newest acquisition. Interaction with the big man and the many is sparse, Negan preferring to use Rick as his mouthpiece to address the town. Negan gets face time with plot-pushing characters—Carl, Spencer, Rosita—plus there’s a few interactions I can’t help but think means the character will die sooner rather than later in the inevitable war with the Saviors. His mere presence sends everyone into a tizzy, and he laps up the chaos like an attention-starved tween girl. Mad props to Gabriel for being one of few to think clearly and quickly after the Saviors arrive, making it appear as though Maggie didn’t survive the miscarriage after all. Though his actions and his uncanny ability to startle their new overlord puts him firmly in the top five on my dead pool. That’s not a comfortable prospect for any character, just ask Olivia how gut-knotting a position that can be.
That bit of tension with the guns is so drawn out, it’s a non-issue by the time Spencer returns from his side trip with Rosita—fetching Daryl’s bike and having a long talk about accepting the new world order or bucking against the system. The time it takes to resolve any problem is the glaring issue in these 90-minute episodes. Audiences don’t have the attention span to properly appreciate Negan and Dwight’s mind games. They’re playing the long game in an instant gratification world. Fans want flashy conflict with well-defined reasons and minimal subtlety. Leave just enough plot motivation below the surface to make attentive fans feel clever, but everyone else wants a short-form action flick every week. They’re not going to get it. I know this. You may even know this, but one look at the fandom in general and they’re woefully unprepared to think through the Negan era. Character motivation has always been spoon-fed to them. All the little puzzles and plot twists have fallen away—remember how mad we were when TERMINUS was a cannibal’s wet dream and the CDC’s only solution to the apocalypse was to blow itself up—replaced by Richonne concerns and some serious story telegraphing whenever characters speak out against their leader. Spoilers: They always die when they question Rick for more than a moment.
Looking to the future is difficult when the characters are settling in for a long winter under a crazed dictator. It could become seriously monotonous, with constant failed attempts to undermine Negan without full-frontal conflict. There could be a few solid hits from Alexandria which loosen his grip. They could all die in a firefight at three in the morning because Negan decided he wasn’t getting enough from them and wants the city. Whatever happens, it’s likely the blooming resistance force will be led by three people: Michonne, Carl, and Maggie. Michonne missed the shopping trip, but saw the town’s discarded/burned mattresses not long after promising Rick she’d try to work with the new rules. Settling for anything has never been Carl’s M.O., evident way back in season two when he wouldn’t, couldn’t stay put despite having been shot. There’s no need to say why Maggie will lead this rebellion until the day they win or she dies. Why them and not Rick? His speech to Michonne before taking her rifle. He’s got so much at stake, he’ll literally eat Negan’s feces to stay alive long enough to give Judith a Sweet 16 present. It’s no longer good enough to know any people survive in the world, Rick has to know his blood lives on after he’s gone. Obsession over one’s lineage is what doomed Henry VIII—he lost Rome’s backing, married like he changed his poofy pants, and in the end produced one legitimate male heir too fragile to remain on the throne, throwing his kingdom into turmoil years after his death. The lesson? Focusing fifteen-plus years down the road means you’re blind to the monster sneaking up behind you. Rick’s monster just happens to think he’s more useful alive. For now.
It doesn’t take a genius to see that Baal’s best ally in the war on Ash is Sheriff Emery. The guy’s had it out for Ash for decades, even went so far as to marry the woman Ash had a relationship with before the first encounter with the Necronomicon. Old blood feuds have deep roots, something Baal banks on when he starts his mental manipulation. It takes about two minutes to convince the sheriff to gather a mob to recapture Ash. The demon hops into a new skin-suit for the occasion, a loud-mouthed woman who I think is the mother of one of the Classic’s victims. Could be wrong. The dialog for the mob is often jumbled together and muted as Baal works his mojo on Emery. Elk Grove hasn’t faced anything like Baal before, but they’ve also never come up against Kelly and her pure crazy. She and Linda hold the line, firing warning shots at the mob to buy Ruby time for the spell.
There’s a side-effect of invoking the book of the dead, deadites. Well, in this case, just one in particular. Talk about a shout-out to the source material, Ash’s sister Cheryl comes back to extend the family reunion theme for this season. Ellen Sandweiss returns to the franchise, playing Cheryl as she’d look if she survived the trip to the cabin. The makeup for Cheryl’s deadite look has been morphed to fit the style set for the show, but remains faithful to the original film. Her scenes are amusing, full of atrocious puns referring to her demise by tree. The interaction between the siblings is reminiscent of how the early deadites preferred to play more than just kill.
Unfortunately for Chet, he chose an awful day to break into Ash’s house and, uh, fantasize about Cheryl while alone in her room. Things go from fun and games to bloody mess pretty fast once Cheryl has an innocent bystander to use against her brother. The outcome is heartbreaking. While I’d hoped Chet would stick around to play bigger buffoon to Ash’s moron, he’s no match for the evil in his buddy’s life.
There’s a wolf hidden amongst Murphy’s flock. The Man makes his grand comeback, posing as a newcomer to town. That game lasts a heartbeat until Murphy spots the big, bald guy and has him brought in for a private audience. Things don’t progress as predicted, seeing as Murphy is distracted by his stomach. What I thought for sure would be a boot to the backside, turned into a trust exercise, capped off with a grey matter snack for the men. Funny, and disgusting. The chunks TM blows after the scene are, well, chunky. What a waste of a good meal. But he’s passed the test. The Man found his footing in Murphy’s organization less than an hour after entering the gate. Impressive. Also shows a huge, gaping hole in Murphy’s world domination scheme—his ego doesn’t account for his failing grip on humanity and reality. Instead of bringing in a known, trusted team member, he snags the new guy—who helped mow down an entire settlement of peaceful people—and gives him an easy way to manipulate Murphy to his will. After all, the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.
10k and Doc are picked up on the roadside like stray pups left in an abandoned shopping cart. Roberta’s team is whole once again, this time with an ace up their sleeve. If 10k can get over the nightmares and constant urges to express loyalty to Murphy, he should lead them to Spokane in no time. They’re not even that far away. There’s a problem in the plan. Lucy. She also has the potential in her blood to create a cure. Dr. Sun would have an easier time handling a child, as well. But they really do need to stop Murphy from amassing a larger army. Time to divide and conquer. Addy and Doc will get Lucy. Everyone else trudges on to Spokane.
It’d be easier to get everyone back together if the NSA compound were fully functional once more. Citizen Z, Kaya, and her family work to restore power in the facility. The radio even broadcasts a signal strong enough to reach out and touch someone—too bad Addy can’t respond. My problem with dragging the Citizen Z story line along is mostly because Kaya’s jealousy over Addy is seriously off-putting. Can’t they just leave Kaya to be a person and not a stereotypical fanatical female fan?
To balance out the awkwardness of cramming Daryl into the Sanctuary lifestyle, they give him a woman to talk to—a misnomer, she talks, he bobs his head or gives soulful eyes. Sherry originally came onto the show with her sister and Dwight after they stole insulin for the sister. Now she’s back to make sure the show doesn’t devolve into a sausage fest during Sanctuary scenes, and to give fans a woman to ‘ship Daryl with, because that’s so necessary. It’s obvious no matter what comes out of her mouth, she has no agency to actually make it happen. Daryl doesn’t listen to her. Dwight and Negan treat her like a commodity, though the former at least has the decency to blush as his boss lays out the full transaction for their new guest. She skulks around the compound like a frightened cat, and is always hidden the minute the big guy is nearby.
The inevitable showdown between Daryl and Negan only ever had one outcome. He effed up and got Glenn killed, that guilt will keep Daryl on the side of the angels for as long as possible. And now that he has a woman to fight for, or help Dwight fight for, he’ll stubbornly remain Rick’s attack dog. Until they beat it out of him, that is. Negan’s not going to keep giving him free Alpo sandwiches, clothes, and shelter for long. Just like in The Kingdom, you reap what you sew in the Sanctuary. But you better be sewing a lot more than what the boss lets you reap. No one upstages that man except Lucille.
We meet more Saviors, some who’ll probably be go-to men throughout the season. Only one of the goons got a name outside the official “I am Negan” moniker—Fat Joey. Dr. Carson seems reasonable, but is completely in Negan’s sway. If the big guy crapped a rainbow, the doctor would say, “I told you so.” On the flipside of the coin, Dwight chases a doomed character, Gordon, down the road a ways. This guy is done living in Negan’s wet dream for the apocalypse. He just wants an out, any out. He’d rather take a bullet than serve Negan again. Instead of complying, Dwight’s insecurity about his place in Sanctuary push him to permanently enslave Gordon as a walker on their fence line.
Does his apple taste as sweet as promised? Man, there’s so many innuendos at the episode’s end, my head spun. And I loved it. We needed new characters to come in and remind us, not to mention our favorite survivors, that laughter is a thing. A joke won’t bash in your head. Giggling won’t cost an arm or a leg. No one will bite your face off if you smile at the stupid pun dancing through your head. Society for us, and on the show, is a nightmare. Finding the people who’ve still got the ability to look at the bright side of life is vital to balancing the mental trauma from the apocalypse—and this year’s election. That being said, Jerry is totally my favorite thing since sliced cheese. His zany antics balance Ezekiel’s carefully calculated demeanor. We need, nay we deserve a Jerry-centric episode. Someone make this happen, please.
Do I need to mention the tiger? Shiva is a wonderful addition. Her animation isn’t clunky and she’s “grounded” in the room, but I feel they did too much by adding a couple unnecessary shots during Carol’s initial introduction to King Ezekiel. Save your budget. Gonna need it for fake blood during Negan’s episodes.
This week, horror fans got their fill of character’s brains on the ground. While the other show took every opportunity to draw out the drama from the character’s deaths, AvED went full splatstick, showing close-ups while Ash attempts to piece his father together again after the Classic mowed him down. It’s no use. There’s not enough skull intact to hold it all in place, plus Brock’s missing an eye—which is neatly embedded in the Delta’s grille. It stares down Pablo and Ash while they discuss a plan of action over Brock’s corpse. The plan, apparently, is for Pablo to charge the possessed car by himself and become its captive alongside the sheriff’s daughter. Pretty sure that’s not how one wins the war against evil.
Pablo’s newfound bravery is a farce. He’s reacting purely from fear and Evil knows it, manipulating Pablo to do what it wants through his bizarre connection to the Necronomicon. Matter of fact, the fallout from one conversation with the book changes everything for Ash and his team. We’ve waited so long for Pablo to finally step up and be the hero, but he’s going about it the wrong way. So now we get to sit and watch him set the world ablaze. Neat. Maybe we’ll get more super-intense visions, like the car crash, along the way. I loved the mild shock from watching Pablo stagger around with a steel bar longer than he is tall through his chest.
The possessed Delta isn’t their only problem. In true men-sense, the guys completely overlook the demonspawn still camped in the crematorium in favor of chasing the Classic to the local demolition derby stadium. Ash even takes a highly intoxicated Chet along for the pursuit. That leaves the ladies on the team to take care of Ruby’s ill-behaved children. What Ruby didn’t take into account is that they’ve spent their time gaining strength in order to fulfill their father’s wishes. The spawn are way stronger than their mother now. Kelly saves Ruby’s bacon a couple times—gratitude is a sensation I’m sure is completely foreign to Ruby. This is the first solid moment the ladies have had where they were just as hardcore as the men without eventually falling back on Ash’s uncanny competence at killing in order to win the day’s battle. They mow through the demonspawn with a couple close-calls on the getting maimed front.
While the Serenity Falls gang misjudged Doc, they totally got it right when they trussed up their newest patient and locked him in a padded room. 10k may not see Red and 5k anymore, but he’s madder than the Hatter without a clean cup. Coherency is a lost art once 10k opens his mouth. Doc is quick to cover for him, claiming the kid has Ten-Kay Fever and disavowing any knowledge of his new patient. At least one of them is in a position to help. For the most part, 10k is a barely animated potato sack. The vaccine in his system is wearing off. He struggles constantly with thoughts of Murphy loyalty and his need to free himself from control before warning Roberta.
Like, oh, Ratched actually handing out medication instead of snacks during med time. Every single bottle of pills and vial of whatever is blocked by a hallway teeming with zombies. Never fear, Doc and Elvis are ready to take on the Shocker Zombies in Ward Z. Are they quick enough? 10k takes a turn for the worst while they’re grabbing the meds. Liddy, the paranoid patient, and Ratched wheel 10k into the surgical suite.
The remaining action in the episode is basically Doc wrangling cats. He wants desperately to save everyone from the zombies slowly ripping through the hasty barricades over the hospital’s exits. They all make it outside in one piece to find the sole vehicle left on the ground, a small bus. Winona wastes no time hot-wiring it after Doc finally turns everyone in the right direction.