Glenn lives! No, I couldn’t wait to say it. Plus, it’s how the episode opens. Yet again, we backtrack in time to follow what happens after Nicholas’ body dragged Glenn off the dumpster. As I thought, the walkers tear into the warm corpse, leaving Glenn untouched, but traumatized. While they’re distracted, he shimmies under the dumpster. Several walkers give chase. This feels a lot like Glenn’s introduction on the show. You know, when he saved Rick — a mistake, if you ask me — after the former sheriff’s deputy crawled under a tank. Only there’s no one to bail Glenn out of this situation. He’s on his lonesome. Killing the walkers posing the most threat creates a rather effective barrier to seal off his cubbyhole. Now all he has to do is wait for the walkers to lose interest . . . before his water supply runs out. The coast clears after what probably feels like an eternity when crammed under a reeking dumpster. Glenn slithers through the dead walkers. His first concern—water. Nicholas had a bottle on him, but it’s empty.
That’s okay, Enid just happens to be in a nearby building. Her first attempt to give him water results in a puddle. Glenn breaks into the antique store, following his only hope to find water in a timely manner. Desperate for news about Maggie and Alexandria, he attempts a civil conversation. Enid, written to be one of the most incoherent characters to date, bolts for no reason. There’s a lot of back and forth. At one point Glenn nearly leaves the girl, but Maggie wouldn’t like it so he goes back to drag the girl to Alexandria. Along the way, they grab some balloons—possibly useful against walkers, mostly to fill a plot hole explaining how Glenn will signal the crew at the episode’s end. This would be far more entertaining if Enid weren’t Carl with breasts. She has no personality beyond sullen teenager who’d seen too much. Which is literally everyone on this show, no matter their actual age.
Back in Alexandria, it’s more of the same ol’ same ol’. Maggie is ever-vigilant for Glenn’s signal. Rick, insensitive to the core, dismisses concern for her husband and redirects the conversation to how to move retrieve the cars from the quarry and move the walkers. Father Gabriel sets up a prayer circle, like that’s going to make a difference when the morale inside the walls is already shot to crap. Speaking of shooting, there’s more sullen teen angst action between Carl and Ron when Rick takes Ron out for his first official gun lesson. Like a d-bag, Carl interjects some smart comment every time Rick shuts his mouth. Even I want Ron to at least wing him with a shot by the time the real feces hits the fan later on.
Can Morgan live with Rick if he won’t kill? It’s not even a matter of staying in Alexandria at this point. Deanna would have no problem keeping the pacifist around. Morgan pulls his weight and has deep insight to what would motivate future human attackers. He’s an asset. Rick sees only a threat looking at the man who is the only reason he even made it to Atlanta for Glenn to save, thus introducing him to the people forming his little kingdom—and by some ridiculous default Carol is in agreement, simply to keep her relevant in the episode. There’s no logical reason for Carol to be this distrusting. She’s written so oddly this season. The writers backtracked hardcore on where her trajectory lead—sociopath land. Sociopaths don’t care what happens in a society, even one this small, unless it impacts the way they live. Morgan isn’t a threat to Carol; she shouldn’t be so invested in undermining his position in their community. This whole witch-hunt is added to drum tension in an otherwise lackluster episode. The only important bits happen in the first and final two minutes. I just saved you forty minutes of your life. Use it wisely.
Carol winds up stalking Morgan. Because, how else will they make something epically stupid happen with the prisoner no one else knows about unless poorly-written and paranoid Carol acts as catalyst? First, she has to ditch Judith. Here comes Jessie, a walking womb they dump the kids on without much concern for her as a person. While Carol waits for Jessie to put something away; which takes five minutes too long just so the following conversation can happen between Sam—still upstairs—and Carol.
Sam, “If you kill people, do you turn into one of the monsters?” Carol doesn’t even think about her response. “The only thing that prevents you from becoming a monster is killing.”
Spencer may be the densest character on television. He is nearly eaten playing Batman by crawling across a rope tethered between the wall and the slowly-crumbling church. The grappling hook fails, dumping Spencer amongst the walkers. Rick and others haul him up. Tara risks her life to provide cover fire. In a stunningly stupid move, Rick yells, “Tara! You almost died once for these people. What the hell are you doing?” Facepalm. Headdesk. They can hear you, Rick. Tara’s eloquent response speaks for all.
But why would Spencer play piñata in the first place? To go get a car, of course. The same plan Rick hatched, more or less, only executed with the grace of a newborn foal. And why didn’t Spencer tell Rick his plan? Rick listens to himself, no one else. Which is why Rick is literally the last person I would want leading my survival group. His selfishness knows no bounds. Deanna isn’t ignorant to this problem. When she comes to thank Rick and his people for saving her son, she asks Rick why he saved Spencer. “…he’s your son,” Rick responds automatically, then waits for a Scooby Snack. “Wrong answer.” Deanna isn’t impressed. She expected Rick to finally grow to see her people as his after passing the torch.
There’s no time to fix Spencer’s boneheaded mistake. Shortly after Glenn’s balloon signal is spotted, the church belfry topples. The wall is breached. The midseason finale will be a mad dash to either outrun the walkers or stand their ground against, oh, at least five-hundred sets of snapping jaws.
The episode’s opener is downright beautiful, some of the best cinematography on TV this fall. But once the episode’s plot rolls on, it’s pretty clear there’s nothing grounding the action in the overall story line for the season. Forty minutes for what’s essentially a pit stop to grab supplies.
The gang is caught in a forest fire, along with enough zombies to make traveling by foot dangerous. They fight their way through the smoke to a seemingly abandoned hotel. Knowing the show’s history, it’s seriously unlikely the place is empty, but any port in a firestorm. Inside, a group of frightened business people bicker over whether or not to let the strangers inside. One man, Iggy, takes initiative to be a decent human being and unlocks the door.
That’s about the time I realized one of the businessmen is none other than Anthony Michael Hall. A shame they couldn’t do more within the episode while working with such a strong actor as guest star. Hall plays Gideon Gould, a professional hot air blower. Not really, but that may as well be his job. Instead the guy tells business people how to best B.S. each other by talking in circles. He carries a “talking stick” and an ego almost as big as Murphy’s.
Gideon and his gal pal Dana somewhat take over, forcing Roberta and her group to participate in ridiculous trust-building exercises. He goes through the group giving his first impressions. Yes, they’re on the nose, but he ends up planting the seeds for everyone to distrust 10k later in the episode. Dana, Gideon, Addy, and Roberta sit to talk terms to sharing resources. A couple of the guys go with Iggy to check out the kitchen. Vasquez mother hens Murphy while he attempts to nap. Using his psychic zombie weirdness, Murphy distracts Vasquez to wander around the hotel. Addy leaves the meeting with Dana to salvage parts from the satellites on the roof and flirt. A gunshot brings everyone together again.
Murphy has a hole in his chest. Did he have that before? Didn’t think so. Another unlucky sap, Greg, is likewise leaking blood. Vasquez, using his Sherlock-worthy skills determines they were injured by the same bullet. It passed through Murphy and into Greg’s heart. Murphy’s blood is the only reason the guy isn’t a zombie yet. Working on that theory, Doc doses Greg with a hearty helping of Murphy’s blood. Waste not, want not. Murphy won’t miss what’s already outside of his body, right?
Gideon calls yet another group meeting to determine who shot the men. Automatically, they blame 10k. Addy steps up to defend him, but she’s nowhere near as convincing as the man himself. Vasquez, so not on board with Gideon’s methods, returns to the party with a duffle bag overflowing with food which the hotel survivors thought long gone, not squirreled away in a personal stash. Murphy and Greg were nearly killed for candy bars. The hotel survivors turn on Iggy, who by far the sanest, kindest person in residence. They’d assumed he took the food since he has one of two keys and Gideon is beyond reproach. Iggy is unceremoniously flung out into the smoke and encroaching zombies with only a small sledgehammer. Washington is given the pantry key and ordered to lock it down. Shortly after, Gideon finally gets around to offering Roberta food for her people. They hit the kitchen. Zombie Washington hits them. He also kills Sheila before they’re both given Mercy. The remaining food is gone.
Someone shoots at Doc. Everyone arms up and gives chase. Dana gives the shooter a free pass while Addy isn’t looking. The women wind up trapped in a closet—quit snickering—where Dana begs Addy to take her with them when they leave. Nearby zombies hear them. Roberta and Vasquez save their bacon before resuming the search for the shooter. The follow them, but come up empty-handed. While everyone scurries around for mysterious shooters and missing food, Murphy dreams about the zombies outside, subconsciously calling them to the hotel. They break out of the quarantined sections in the hotel. The fire zombies the gang fought through join the fray, eventually breaking the glass on the hotel doors. Everyone holes up in the makeshift sickbay.
Right on time, half-zombie Greg wakes. Doc asks him to identify the shooter. He points to . . . no, not Gideon, as much as we want him to suffer for being obnoxious. Travis is the shooter; Dana his lover. All they want is to get out of the hotel and away from Gideon. There’s a shootout. Greg dies again. So does Travis.
Victorious against the zombies outside, Iggy returns to the hotel. Truly apologetic, Gideon welcomes him back to the fold and offers the sacred talking stick. As thanks, Iggy whacks Gideon with the dang stick. Murphy wakes, confused and suffering the mother of all headaches.
The hotel group thanks Roberta’s crew for their part in overthrowing Gideon’s ridiculous stranglehold on their future by giving them a van and supplies. Will it be sufficient to see them through to the California lab? Do I need to ask? Of course it won’t. Murphy’s Law rules everything which happens to the crew—if it can go wrong, it will. My bet is the van will spontaneously combust when they all go on a pee break or something equally ridiculous.
Addy finally manages to build a functional radio and makes contact with Citizen Z. CZ has been trapped in the base with zombies this entire time, yet didn’t manage to kill them all. Someone is slacking. He warns the group about the mega-zunami heading their way and advises they divert south through Mexico to avoid it. Roberta isn’t onboard with that plan. Not when they’re so close to finally hitting the California border. That’s okay. The RV they’re in makes the decision for everyone, breaking down near the Grand Canyon. Roberta, Addy, Vasquez, and Murphy hop on the ATVs hauled behind the RV to find another vehicle or a place to hole up for the zombie storm. 10k and Doc head toward the cliffs, hoping higher ground will keep the worst of the attack at bay.
Up the road, Roberta’s group finds a casino, complete with distrusting occupants who tell them to get off tribal land. That is until she shows them the zunami heading their way. The gang is taken inside and introduced to Chief, Danny. Danny is convinced his casino defenses will hold. Nothing they say can change his mind.
Up on the cliffs, 10k and Doc run into Danny’s son, Red Hawk. If you thought Danny and his crew at the casino had trust issues, Red Hawk makes them look like Boy Scouts. He’s violently opposed to white men being on the tribe’s sacred cliffs, blaming their poisonous souls for the apocalypse. Red Hawk’s sister, Ayalla, and another woman, Kuruk, roll their eyes at the he-man chest banging, grab 10k and Doc, and treat their wounds. As a bonus prize, Doc gets to go on a nice peyote trip. For the pain, of course.
Not long after Doc’s brain is well and truly cooked, Red Hawk traps the guys in snares, calling them the early zombie warning system. Sure enough, a zombie shuffles by not long after. Doc spirit walks, killing the first walker. Ayalla rides in to save the day when a second approaches and Doc’s spirit gets camera shy. She takes them to the casino so they can warn her father.
While Doc and 10k play cowboy, Roberta uses the makeshift radio Addy builds with Jerry to talk CZ though using a rocket launcher. See, he’s got this one zombie he just can’t put down. Obviously the reason is his bullets are too small. Time to upgrade. Except, rocket launchers don’t really like the cold. The device’s battery is too cold to function properly. CZ ends up running from the zombie while warming the battery . . . in his underwear. Roberta did tell him to put it the warmest place possible. Once the battery is ready—and after CZ nearly loses the rocket launcher three times—he shoots the Z. It’s a great visual effect moment as the zombie melts in the blast.
Danny finally understands why Roberta’s group is so concerned about the zunami. He orders his people to follow Ayalla to the sacred cliffs. He stays behind, though, unable to leave the land where his wife’s spirit resides. Shortly after everyone drives away, the first zombies hit the casino. It takes about a minute for them to demolish the building.
Back at the cliffs, there’s a huge problem—the zombies are dive-bombing from above. They need to find a way to drive them from the cliff. Doc, having a deep connection with the spirits in the wall paintings, ponders if zombies are as dumb as buffalo. Only one way to find out. They set the grass on the plateau above the cliffs ablaze, hoping the fire will turn the zombies toward the Grand Canyon. Murphy freaks when he realizes the zombies will die. He wants to save them. He feels their pain. The crew hold him back. They watch, breathless, as the first zombies redirect at the fire. The plan works like a charm. Zombies tumble down into the Grand Canyon by the truckload.
The tribe says goodbye to their friends from the Z Nation (ha ha). Each is given a token to remember the adventure. Except Murphy and Vasquez. They’re waiting at the bus the tribe gave the gang. Murphy is still distraught about the zombie deaths. Nearly inconsolable. Roberta pulls no punches.
“The day is coming when you’re gonna have to decide what you are, human or zombie. And when that day comes, I want you to remember which of the two is trying to keep you alive and which one wants to eat your brains.”
How much of the zunami did they successfully divert? Hopefully all of it. They’re so close to California. So close to finally being done with broken cars, no food, sleeping with one eye open, and Murphy’s sourpuss expression. The real question is, what will go wrong next?
Is there a point to this episode? All it does is establish that Daryl, Sasha, and Abraham cannot return to Alexandria in time to help with the Wolves, walkers, or internal morale troubles. Which we knew because, gasp, we’re stuck in the same two-day timeframe six friggen episodes into the season. If we’re forced to relive the same day over and over, let it at least have a cheeky groundhog with smooth dance moves. I will hazard a guess that with everyone finally accounted for in this time frame, we’ll finally move forward with the plot. Won’t hold my breath, though. The writers have forsaken common sense in storytelling. It’s like the current writing room is populated by teenagers who swear they know what they’re doing, but really all they’re doing is making a huge mess and Mom—the producers—gave up cleaning.
Storytelling 101: Time must always move forward. On cue you say, “But, Groundhog Day. You just mentioned a movie stuck in a time loop.” Now, now. It’s not that easy to dismiss what I’m saying. Time still flows forward for the main character. Each day is different for him, he still has tomorrow and yesterday, they just happen to have the same events. People who work on repetitive production lines still move forward in their personal time line even though they repeat the same thing all day every day. They progress emotionally and physically. It’s an entirely different beast than breaking chronology to backtrack and tell portions from the story we already really know without writers leading us by the nose to figure it out.
Even within this episode they break that cardinal rule. There is no reason for the story to follow Daryl through to the following day, only to wind back the clock for Sasha and Abraham’s scenes. Everything the duo did in the episode could have taken place within the time line set by Daryl’s ordeal, including their initial entrance into the office building where they wait out the night. It would’ve taken no time at all to establish their location and well-being if edited into the episode during a specific moment to ramp up tension for Daryl’s abduction scenes. What they’re doing is stealing time for character building. Something which should flow naturally as each character finds their footing within the plot. The writers constantly fail at this basic storytelling skill. Whenever they realize they’ve forgotten character emotions, they create an awkward lull in the story and cram in as much as they can. It puts two essential fighters in this world on the sidelines simply so the writers can create yet another love story subplot. At least I think that’s what they wanted to do in this episode. Abraham’s dialog is so clunky, I have to watch his scenes three times to figure out what he’s actually saying.
Abraham and Sasha are useless in this episode—except for the missile launcher he recovers near the episode’s end. What about Daryl, does he do anything vital to the plot? Ha. Ha ha ha. Yeah, right.
The episode opens with the trio shaking the walker herd at the twenty-mile mark. When they turn off the parade route, someone shoots at them. Daryl dumps his bike, but recovers enough to ride out into the woods. Yes, more forest scenes. I’ve started naming the trees, because surely every scene in this show is filmed in the same acre of forest and I’ve developed more of a relationship with the foliage than any character since Hershel died.
Daryl isn’t alone in the forest. Burned walkers litter the ground. As he flees further into the trees to hide from whoever attacked them, he stumbles across two women who obviously think he’s one of the shooters. A man knocks him out. There’s weird Daryl POV sight gag taking us into the next day. Fancy another walk in the woods? The strangers bind Daryl and set out to find their friend. No friend at their destination. Daryl escapes when one woman, Tina, faints, stealing their bag containing his crossbow and pack. It also has Tina’s insulin. Yup. He takes it back. Just in time to grab his abductors and hide from the shooters. There’s no interaction between the groups. The search is called off. “We only wanted to take this so far,” one man tells his cohorts over the radio. Essentially, there’s no point to these men other than forcing Daryl to interact with his abductors a little longer.
After the shooters leave there’s, you guessed it, more walking. They find a bunt-out greenhouse where friends of the abductors once lived. The friends burned in the fire the abductors set. They also turned walker and are trapped under a layer of melted glass. Tina is bitten. Driven by who-knows-what, Daryl asks them the standard questions for bringing someone new into the community. They pass with flying colors. For about five minutes. When Daryl recovers his motorcycle, they steal it and the crossbow.
That’s okay. There just happens to be a conveniently placed truck fifty yards away. No spare crossbow, though.
When the two story lines finally hit the same time line, Daryl arrives in the small town to retrieve Abraham and Sasha. They drive toward Alexandria. The only interesting part of the entire episode is a short message over the radio. Is it a distress call from Glenn? Man, I hope so.
Meet our newest corpse, Syd Wicked. It’s a stage name, of course. Syd is a magician, in town for an industry convention. His body is found in his hotel room, a metal-edged playing card embedded in his jugular. The only person seen entering the room on security camera footage is the maid who found the body and the three security guards who answered her distress call. After Liv takes her lunch break, she decides to hold a not-really-real séance in the morgue where she communes with Syd’s body and is generally, stupidly goth-weird. It’s so stereotypical, my eyes rolled across my cell on their own.
Blaine interrupts the tête-à-tête. Thank goodness. Maybe. Seeing as Blaine doesn’t shamble amongst the half-dead anymore, he comes to Liv for a little zombie mojo to help figure out who’s kidnapping the rich zombies in town before Agent Bozzio puts the insane puzzle pieces together herself and exposes not only Liv, but Blaine and his business. That’s if she has everything she needs to track them down. Only one way to find out. That evening, Liv and Blaine stake out Bozzio’s house. They wait for Clive to take Bozzio to the movies. The couple have other plans for a randy night in. Drat. Gotta come back the next day. This time they successfully make it inside Bozzio’s house. Wouldn’t you know it; the files are all organized on the dining room table. Convenient. Liv suggests they divide and conquer the files. Mistake. Blaine flips past a picture of Miner, the one clue which would have solved the case. It’s a cheap misdirection; kinda like the worm in Labryinth leading Sara away from the path directly to the castle beyond the Goblin City. The only productive part of the break-in is when they intercept the report on the mystery brain from Suzuki’s fridge. Liv takes the report, doctors it to say the brain is bovine, and returns it to Bozzio’s house.
Back on the magical murder, Clive has an army of potential suspects to weed through. Turns out, Syd was kind of an a-hole. Anytime a fellow magician snubbed him, Syd took to Youtube and exposed their signature tricks. Two notable names are Houdina and The Magnificent Magnus. Houdina was on stage during the murder. Magnus, well, the old guy still has gas in his tank and had a lovely red-headed companion occupying his time—though he cannot remember her name. Houdina raises their interest later in the episode when Liv has a vision starring Houdina, wearing a wedding dress and throwing a diamond ring at Syd. Then they learn she may not have been on stage when they thought, according to Mr. Smoak of magic duo Smoak and Meers. Houdina exposes the secret ending to her show—she uses a disguise to vanish in plain sight, posing as a clueless waitress after pulling a vanishing act.
Lightbulb.
Liv’s observational skills do not fail her, for once, and she spots eerily familiar handwriting on a message board in the maid’s break area at the hotel. Meers, a mute performer, uses a specific ampersand when he writes. The now-missing maid who found Syd’s body used the same ampersand to note missing items on the message board.
With lackluster flair, Liv exposes Meers’ real identity and her partner’s involvement in ensuring the other suspects in the case didn’t have an alibi. Ta-da! Yawn. The only intriguing part of the episode is a mysterious woman at Bozzio’s door. She hesitates for a while before dropping a package on the welcome mat and leaving, obviously torn over whatever is in the envelope.
This is a poor mid-season episode. There’s not even humor to keep it going. Liv isn’t just annoying with her death-obsessed brain, she’s stuck on the notion that she and Major cannot have sex. Like it’s the end of the world if they can’t do it all day, every day. She harps on the idea so much, if I hear the word sex from her or Major one more time this season, I’ll swallow razors. Can we request her next working lunch be from an a-sexual person?
Here’s your spoiler warning. Proceed at your own risk.
…They make a run on the food pantry, ignoring Olivia when she reminds them they have to ration until the walkers clear and they can make a supply run. Spencer, Deanna’s son, steps in to lend a voice of reason. Then he turns around after everyone is gone to pillage what he wants. My opinion of the guy was already pretty low, but after he left the gate open for the Wolves and stole much needed food? I hope his drunk self falls off the wall while he’s on guard duty. Spencer isn’t the worst off emotionally, either. Betsy, wife to David who died in the last episode, and a few others paint the names of the dead lost in the attack and partially failed mission on the wall—including Nicholas and Glenn.
After creating the tribute, Betsy returns home and slashes her wrists. Jessie finds her after, zombified and banging on her front door. This leads to Jessie making one of several drawn out speeches during this episode. Not every speech comes from her, though she has to say something after Betsy dies in order to keep the others from seeing suicide as a viable option. It just feels like anytime there’s a sliver of tension, Rick or someone yanks out the soapbox and lets it rip. For heaven’s sake, Rick makes a loud speech about being quiet to avoid riling the walkers while standing next to the compromised wall section with about a thousand zombies leaning against it trying to get to the booming voice on the other side. There’s a point where the writers need to give up this trope and move on to other ways to motivate a crowd. Start a conga line or something. I don’t care so long as I don’t have to listen to another sermon from the Ricktatorship pulpit.
Healthy ways to cope with the stress do not involve attacking each other about a girl. A lesson Carl and Ron desperately need to learn. Enid is still presumably on the outside. Carl asks Ron to help and is rejected, with a threat to tattle to Rick if Carl hops the fence. He ends up going to Rick anyway in order to cash in the rain check on those shooting lessons Rick promised back at the quarry. Another unhealthy coping mechanism is attempting to tenderize a walker with a broken bottle. Deanna, I’m looking at you. Your cool flew out the window the minute the Wolves attacked. Get your act together. Tara seems to be the best adjusted to the stress. She manages successfully to talk Denise off the metaphorical ledge when the new doctor cannot find a way to clear the infection in Scott’s bullet wound. And, hey, she gets kissed for her efforts. It’s a win-win.
Desperate for answers, Maggie prepares to drop over the wall and search for Glenn. Aaron, heavy with guilt because the backpack he lost when the Wolves tricked him and Daryl with the tucks led the attackers to their door, insists she let him help. He even knows a way out which won’t break her leg if she falls wrong. They take to the tunnels running under Alexandria. Down there, they face walkers so soggy and muddy, Maggie’s hand goes right through one’s chest. She’s nearly bitten, yet still tells Aaron to go back and tend to his wounds. Yeah, not happening. Then again, neither is the mission. The tunnel exit is too close to the herd.
Despite everything in her demanding she find Glenn, Maggie won’t risk losing the baby. It’s the last piece of her husband left; she doesn’t even have a picture. That night when Maggie and Aaron search the area for a signal from Glenn, they take a moment to erase his and Nicholas’ names from the memorial wall.
There’s a change in the guard coming to Alexandria. After Deanna snaps and attacks a stray walker—Carol lost track of only one Wolf she killed and he turned in the walls—Rick swoops in and makes the actual kill. Crouched on the pavement, covered in walker blood, Deanna tells Rick, “I wanna live. I want this place to stay standing.” She realizes her mental capacity cannot handle the stress from all the losses, but Rick seems to be doing just fine. Obviously he’s the better choice for leader, right? NO. WRONG. But the decision is made. Rick celebrates his new position by kissing Jessie. Okay, that wasn’t the real purpose to their conversation, but it might as well have been for all the sense it made. Somewhere along the line, the writers forgot how to have Rick talk in coherent thoughts.
The future is not so bright for Alexandria. The fence, though reinforced, is failing where the truck hit. Four of their best fighters are still in the field. Morale is in the tank. There’s a crazier leader taking the throne. Oh and let’s not forget the crazy guy waiting in a jail cell. Yes, they survived to see another day, but how long will their luck hold out?
This case ties directly into last week’s basketball-loving fest. Harry Cole, the man who murdered a scary debt collector and witnessed Mike Hayden’s murder, is gunned down on the courthouse steps yards from Clive. The killers get away on a motorcycle. Clive tracks their progress toward the water. Assuming they dumped the bike, he orders a dive team to search for it. While awaiting word from the dive team, Clive and Liv interview Roger Thrunk. He’s the “fixer” for Harry’s law firm and the man accused of killing Mike Hayden. Despite appearances, Thrunk isn’t a practicing lawyer. He hasn’t been in the courtroom in nine years, yet has a rather nice office at the firm. They have no solid evidence on the guy with Harry lounging on Ravi’s examination table and Thrunk knows it. He enjoys taunting them about the vague meaning behind his one phone call since arriving at the police station. Who did he ask his associate to take care of?
It doesn’t take long for Harry’s compulsive gambling to take over Liv’s life. All her small wagers lead to a vision which isn’t completely redundant. Enter The Barber, Harry’s bookie.
It’s not just a moniker, the guy actually runs a barbershop. He’s also incredibly quick-witted and intelligent, keeping his lawyer perched on the sidelines in the shop more or less constantly. The lawyer is kind of a nitwit, though. They get nothing of note from The Barber. Liv takes advantage of the proximity to Harry’s obsession and places a bet—the first of many in the episode.
Hitting a dead end, Clive makes the unpopular decision to crash Harry’s funeral to talk to his widow. In attendance is Calvin Owens, a big time basketball star who happened to go to college with Harry. Clive’s fanboy shows big time. Good thing, too. All his gushing prompts another vision: Calvin turning his back on Harry and refusing to pay off any more of his debts.
Thanks to a crime scene tech who plays by the rules, Clive and Liv figure out who Thrunk wanted taken care of—his pet turtle. Only, when Thrunk’s associate realizes the tech is calling a detective, he bolts. The turtle is brought into the station. That’s one happy turtle, man. He has enough cocaine stashed in his ceramic house to—well, I’m not sure what a turtle would do with cocaine, but there was a lot of it. They have enough evidence on Thrunk to put him away. Mike Hayden’s case is finally wrapped up.
But who killed Harry? The final puzzle piece clicks in place when Liv heads back to The Barber to place a bet on a basketball game based on Calvin’s recommendation. Every man in the shop pauses for a moment when she says his name. The Barber alludes to Calvin’s involvement in gambling before. But he’s either really good at it, seeing as he’s living in a mansion still, or he was on the other end of the gambling game. After some digging, Liv realized Calvin shaved points off during the final quarter in most of his college games in order to help Harry. About the same time the dive team coughs up information about the motorcycle. Hey, it just so happens to belong to the sons of Calvin’s former teammate. Turns out, Harry threatened to blackmail Calvin if he didn’t pay his current debt. Tired of hemorrhaging money, Calvin hired hitmen. Case closed.
But there’s so, so much more in this episode.
Liv and Major are sickening sweet together. There’s still that one little catch; they don’t know if they can safely consummate the relationship, even with protection. Ravi tests every condom brand known to man—and makes a condom balloon animal, too. Turns out the zombie virus is so small, condoms are completely ineffective in preventing infection. Damn. They can get creative, right? They may not have long to get creative. Clive and Bozzio are inching closer to officially reopening the Meat Cute case. Not only that, Bozzio is now one-hundred percent totally chasing Major as the person abducting these wealthy businessmen. He adds a notable name to his list at the end of the episode.
Which is where Blaine comes in. Or rather, his father. Papa DeBeers doesn’t take threats lightly. He’s been digging into Blaine’s life, trying to find a way to destroy his son’s little fiefdom. Luck comes when he discovers Blaine’s makeup artist and tortures her for information, including Blaine’s client list. Little DeBeers is now demoted to a gopher, sent to fetch the brain from one of his father’s rivals. Joke’s on Pops. Blaine doesn’t retrieve the brain he asks for. Instead, he pays a visit to Grandpa DeBeers and takes his. There’s a whole mountain of remorse before, during, and after the act. Which is for naught. Angus DeBeers joins the growing list of missing businessmen. Well, he’s not completely missing. Major knows exactly where he put the guy on ice. Literally. Angus is in a freezer with two other men.
There’s trouble in Peyton’s plan to finally bring Mr. Boss to justice. Boss knows. He’s creepy as hell, to boot. Late one night, Boss pays a visit to Peyton’s office. He’s not very subtle; Peyton has two choices, accept a bribe like three district attorneys before her, or vanish like the one who didn’t. It doesn’t take Boss long to figure out who fed Peyton her information, either. There’s a new list growing, a list of people Boss will take care of in order to keep his place in the drug world’s hierarchy.
I’ve got a feeling someone will not make it through this season alive.
10k and Doc are all aboard the alien theory train. It just gets worse when the crew rolls into Roswell, New Mexico in a Thing—no, not the orange rock-looking guy; it’s a car. On the way into town, they encounter a strange aircraft. It kills the Thing’s electrical system, garbles the radio, and slap-chops a zombie down the road with a light beam, ensuring they travel safely.
In town, there’s people gathered at a UFO-themed restaurant. Roy, the gentleman organizing the orientation, says they’re waiting for Bernadette to relay a message from the aliens: It’s time to hop onboard and take to the stars. According to her, it’ll be six days until the exodus. How does she know so much about alien plans? They talk to her, of course. The aliens picked Bernadette to be their voice to the masses after saving her from a zombie one evening. Since then they’ve been thick as thieves, planning how best to save the human race. They were just waiting for one key element—Murphy. Yeah, it’s not enough to save mankind, but he’s also the emissary for the human race, as chosen by the aliens.
Not everyone is on her side. Dan Scully—yes, they went there—swears Bernadette has it all wrong. The aliens aren’t coming to Earth, they’re already here. He goes on to warn the crew not to listen to Bernadette; she’ll get them all killed. Dan is my favorite part of the episode. He’s played by veteran creature actor Doug Jones, who frankly does not get enough credit in the genre. It’s great to see him playing human for once.
Roberta asks Bernadette—who has an uncanny ability to simply appear in the conversation—to take them to the nearby air force base. Maybe they can score a ride on that UFO or a forgotten plane. At the very least, they can salvage supplies to stock the Thing for the last push to California. The base itself isn’t impressive and has been picked clean by scavengers or military personnel before they packed it in and ran from the zombies. 10k calls Bernadette out; she knows more about the base than she’s letting on.
Now things get weirder. She takes them to an office and practically demands Doc take a pack of gum from the vending machine. Hey, why is she putting on a seatbelt? Moments later, the room lurches and they descend to a hidden facility deep under the base. Underground, they encounter their first alien. Only, something’s not right about this guy. It attacks. The crew puts it down and nearly dies themselves when the creature’s flight suit self-destructs. Well, that’s a first. At least zombie aliens can be killed the same as the others.
They search the facility. Addy spends some quality time with a high-tech computer. There’s hundreds of files on Murphy and their travels since Colorado. Weird. Not as weird as Bernadette, though. While Addy attempts to use the computer to contact Citizen Z, the others split off to find the aliens. They finally find a living alien. It approaches cautiously, but the moment is broken when an alien zombie interrupts. 10k takes out the alien-z—zalien? The living alien abducts Bernadette, dragging her upstairs. Roberta, Vasquez, and 10k give chase. They find Bernadette caught in the UFO’s light beam. Murphy joins them and the alien’s focus shifts to him. Desperate to save him from abduction, Roberta grabs a future-tech gun 10k found and shoots down the UFO.
Turns out, aliens still aren’t a thing. Dan planned the entire thing. His job was initially to salvage the aircraft for the government. Then he saw Bernadette and wanted to take her with him. I’m not sure how fancying a woman turns into making an alien invasion plot to convince her to go somewhere safer makes sense, but there it is. Poor Dan doesn’t make it. Bernadette gives him Mercy after he turns zombie. What about the other aliens? Test pilots who turned in their suits. Nothing freaky at all. Well, freakier than zombies existing.
The crew rolls out of town without any more incidents. Bernadette returns to her people . . . and lies to their faces. She can’t bring herself to dash their hopes for salvation, so she simply says they have to wait, the aliens don’t feel they’re ready yet.
This episode is a fun diversion to alleviate the mid-season doldrums. Which means the next episode will probably return to the high-tension action from the season’s premiere. I can’t wait.
Honestly, if Morgan hadn’t been loonier than a cartoon wabbit, the Crazy Nest would have been an ideal place to set up camp for a while and rest. But his lunacy drove everyone away. Then it destroyed his secured safe haven. One night, probably agitated by the surprise visit from his past—Rick— Morgan flies into a rage, yelling and pacing. He knocks over an oil lamp, setting the apartment ablaze.
Heads up! There are spoilers in the following review.
Losing his home doesn’t slow Morgan’s murderous roll one bit. He’s equally dangerous camping in a meadow. Methodically, Morgan clears the walkers from the surrounding forest and burns them in a pyre. The fire attracts more walkers, which he knocks out and adds to the fire. Walkers aren’t his only focus. To Morgan, everyone is a threat. He kills human and walker with the same passion. When the area around his camp is clear, he ventures further out. There’s a gorgeous meadow with purple wildflowers . . . the shot somewhat ruined by a weird visual effect they used to make it clear, Morgan is cray-cray. Yeah, we didn’t need you guys to do wobbly camera tricks. The acting alone shows the truth just fine.
You ready for this? Morgan hears a goat. For once, he’s not hallucinating. There’s actually a goat leashed in front of a cozy stone house. The goat isn’t alone.
Morgan is given ample opportunity to put down his gun and walk into the house like a civil human being. He’s too far gone to realize this strange man is offering food and shelter, at least temporarily. Sensing the threat, the stranger knocks Morgan unconscious. But he apologizes first. Morgan wakes inside a prison cell. Well, a makeshift one, at least. Eastman, his accommodating host, left food for him. It’s not what Morgan wants. He screams at Eastman to kill him. In response, Eastman drops a worn copy of The Art of Peace in the cell, then resumes building an indoor pen for Tabitha, the goat, to keep her safe from walkers. Before Eastman says goodnight, he asks Morgan not to hurt the goat.
Days pass. Morgan observes Eastman; watching him easily kill walkers approaching the house and practicing with his staff. When Morgan seems calmer, Eastman opens up about his background pre-apocalypse. Eastman worked for the state as a forensic psychiatrist. He lived in Atlanta. The men talk. Eastman digs into Morgan’s relentless need to “clear,” as he calls it. “Because that’s why I’m still here,” Morgan explains. He’s called on his BS.
There’s a lot of conversation in this episode delving into PTSD, how humans react not only to losing loved ones, but also being forced to kill—humans aren’t built to handle murder mentally. Eastman wants to help Morgan. In his career, he only met one man beyond saving. Then comes the shocker; Morgan isn’t locked in the cage. Matter of fact, there’s no key to lock the cell; Eastman threw it in the river a while ago. It says so much about Morgan’s state of mind. He never once tries the door, yet uses a zipper pull to pry away the board holding the window bars in place. It’s almost like he made the minor escape attempt to keep himself occupied, but he doesn’t really want to be alone anymore. The subconscious is a tricky beast.
What does Morgan do with this news? He certainly doesn’t leave peacefully or take the offer to crash on the couch. Nope. He attacks Eastman, who knocks Morgan on his ass. In the struggle, a piece of drywall with a child’s drawing on it is broken. For one instant, Eastman forgets himself and his deep respect for life. He stops short of driving his staff into Morgan’s forehead. Yet again he makes the offer: Door or couch. Morgan, petulant to his core, chooses the cell and closes the door. Eastman opens it, only for Morgan to close it again.
They’re at an emotional standoff. Eastman goes about his daily life, preparing to go on a trip to anywhere. While he’s on a supply run. Morgan is charged with Tabitha’s safety. Yeah, you guessed it. Walkers try to eat the goat. For a heat-stopping moment, I thought he’d let them get Tabitha. There was yelling. Saving the goat is the turning point. The respect Eastman shows the deceased walkers is the cincher. Morgan becomes Eastman’s aikido student. Cue many, many training scenes. Too many, really. The episode is pretty solid, but drags with just two men and a goat. Hey, I smell a new sitcom.
But it’s not all training and cheese-making. One night during dinner Morgan finally asks why the heck there’s a prison cell in the living room. It tracks back to the one truly evil man Eastman interviewed for his job. Crighton Dallas Wilton fooled everyone except Eastman with his sociopath mind games. After Eastman was nearly killed by Wilton, he recommended the man never see freedom again. Of course Wilton was livid. He broke out of prison, tracked down Eastman, and killed his family. Moments after, Wilton turned himself in, saying he just wanted to destroy Eastman’s life. Driven mad by the loss, Eastman built the cell intending to abduct Wilton and starve him to death. When he tells the original story, he hedges around confirming or denying if he went through with the plan.
At the episode’s end, we learn he did murder Wilton. It took forty-seven days to starve him to death. There was no magical peace in Eastman’s life after. “I found my peace when I decided to never kill again,” Eastman tells Morgan.
If they’re going to actually make this trip to anywhere, they need a few more things. Just so happens, Morgan left those very things at his camp. While there, Eastman finally asks about Morgan’s family and makes him say their names. It’s a huge healing moment . . . ruined when the man Morgan strangled shambles toward the camp. He freezes, unable to put the walker down. Eastman steps in, but not soon enough. Eastman is bitten.
It’s the last straw. Morgan snaps again. All the guilt he felt from failing to save his family quadruples watching blood blossom across Eastman’s back. He screams for death.
Eastman is ruthless and calm, collecting the walker to bury and leaving Morgan. On the hunt to clear again, Morgan ventures into the forest. It’s easy to find another walker. Two frightened survivors stumble into his path. The woman carefully sets chicken noodle soup and a bullet on the ground before thanking him and walking away.
Morgan snaps out of his mental fog and rushes back to Eastman’s. Tabitha is dead in the front yard. He takes her body to the graveyard behind the house. Despite his injury, Eastman is burying the walker who signed his death certificate. He gives Morgan the house and supplies, but with a warning that security alone isn’t enough. The isolation from living alone isn’t healthy. Before he dies, Eastman calmly walks to the shed to get his gun. It’s unclear who does the job.
So why did we have yet another flashback episode? Morgan has a hair-brained idea to use Eastman’s technique with the Wolf resting in Alexandria’s jail cell. Yeah, that’s not going to work. This guy is hellbent on killing the townsfolk. He found the scouting photos, found the town to be safe, possibly full of supplies he needs to fix the cut on his side, and decided Alexandria should be his. He vows to kill them all, even the children. His cell door is locked.
Yet again, we’ve made little plot progress. A show can only tread water in the same spot for so long before it sinks.
Hey, not a half bad brain this time around. I wasn’t completely annoyed with Liv and her basketball-centric brain, only mildly annoyed when large chunks of dialog were buried under random player and game stats. We get it. We do. It’s not necessary to cram each brain’s personality into micro bursts of What The Hell Is She Talking About?
Our basketball lover is Mike Hayden, security guard and coach for a youth basketball team. He is shot twice in the chest at work. Weird thing is, Mike turned off the security cameras shortly before his death. With next to nothing to go on, Clive pulls images from the cameras before they were disabled and gives them to Liv hoping to shake something loose with her psychic mojo. Problem is, he’s a little too eager to wrap up the case. Liv hasn’t eaten Mike’s brain—as an omelet—yet. She fakes it. Horribly. After eating, Liv heads to the police station for an actual attempt to determine if any of the three photos rings a bell. Nada. However, Mike’s basketball team walks into the station claiming they know who killed their coach. Wouldn’t it be nice if it were that simple?
The kid’s suspect their former teammate’s father, TJ Ryan. TJ boasts a nasty temper and about two functional brain cells. He’s also physically abusing his son, RJ. Mike had an altercation with TJ after reporting him for abuse, but it’s not enough to motivate the guy to kill. Even though TJ’s alibi checks out, Clive pays a late night visit, warning him to leave his son alone. He punctuates the warning by beating the snot out of the guy. Go, Clive, go!
One suspect down, none to go. Clive digs through Mike’s personal information and finds emails from a crowd funding site. An anonymous donor paid off the remaining four-thousand dollars Mike needed in order to send his team to basketball camp. There’s no trail to follow. Another dead end. And another corpse. Telly Levins is one of the three men seen entering the building the night Mike died. Now he’s got his own drawer at the Tacoma morgue. Ravi, Liv, and Clive make a field trip to check out the body. Tacoma’s ME, Dr. Metzger, isn’t fond of Ravi. He’s also not very good at his job. Telly was beaten before being dumped in wet cement, something Metzger missed in his initial examination of the body.
Everything leads back to the building Mike worked at and the 14th floor, where Telly was seen the night of the murder. Clive and Liv interview a couple lawyers in the law firm housed on that floor. Turns out, one of them is a pretty big sports fan. He’s also really bad at picking teams. Harry Cole lost a nice chunk of change on a college game. When he doesn’t pay, Telly—a known debt collector for unsavory types—stops by to give Harry a stern warning. Harry freaks and beats Telly to death. But when Clive tries to pin Mike’s murder on him, he denies pulling the trigger. Turns out, the law firm has a guy who cleans up situations like a random bloody corpse in the office. It was Roger Thrunk’s idea to kill the security cameras, kill Mike, and dump Telly in Tacoma. Case solved.
It’s astounding how focused Liv is with Mike’s brain in her system. She functions as an actual part of the crime-solving team. During her off time, she’s helping Major deal with his drug problem. Part of her plan involves stern halftime pep talks. The other part? Well, Major hopes she’s getting over her hangups about accidentally infecting him while they make love, but not so much. Liv conscripts Major into coaching the youth basketball team. They work well together. Major even throws out the Utopium hidden in his bedroom. With Liv at his side, he’s a better man. He’s not going to let her shy away because of some maybes.
His job may get in the way, though. Gilda/Rita finds out about Liv and Major. It gives her all the motivation she needs to collect a blood sample from Liv for Dr. Erving, Max Rager’s newest pet scientist working on Super Max. Erving thinks Liv is the only intelligent zombie in town and needs her blood in order to figure out why the Super Max zombies are so dumb. One drop of Liv’s blood—obtained when Gilda/Rita “accidentally” stabs her with a kebab skewer—could hold the key to their final formula.
More trouble brews on the horizon. Clive is still digging into the Meat Cute incident. He contacts Suzuki’s widow, asking if the man could have been suicidal. It’s a bad move, but he can’t let it go. Evidence keeps popping up, making it impossible to ignore. Agent Bozzio has a huge break in the case; one of her missing persons was traced to Meat Cute. Then at the end of the episode, Suzuki’s widow brings in a container she found in her late husband’s beer fridge with what’s left of his last brain order.
Blaine is itching for the zombie cure. Gabriel comes through and cuts a batch of Utopium. Don E delivers the vial to Ravi, who immediately plans exhaustive testing. First, he has to make more zombie rats. Just as he’s mixed the zombie-making serum, Blaine pays a visit, expecting the cure. Needless to say, he’s disappointed. But not as disappointed as Gabriel when he grabs the syringe of serum, thinking it’s the cure, and doses himself. Instant rotting death. Cool. Wait, that’s a rather effective weapon. Blaine and Ravi struggle for the vial of remaining serum. Eventually, to keep Blaine from weaponizing it, Ravi smashes the vial with a jar of some blue liquid.
We’re so close to the entire team finally being on the same page with the zombie thing. How will Clive react? It’s hard to say. He’s proving to be pretty unpredictable lately.
That’s okay, Enid just happens to be in a nearby building. Her first attempt to give him water results in a puddle. Glenn breaks into the antique store, following his only hope to find water in a timely manner. Desperate for news about Maggie and Alexandria, he attempts a civil conversation. Enid, written to be one of the most incoherent characters to date, bolts for no reason. There’s a lot of back and forth. At one point Glenn nearly leaves the girl, but Maggie wouldn’t like it so he goes back to drag the girl to Alexandria. Along the way, they grab some balloons—possibly useful against walkers, mostly to fill a plot hole explaining how Glenn will signal the crew at the episode’s end. This would be far more entertaining if Enid weren’t Carl with breasts. She has no personality beyond sullen teenager who’d seen too much. Which is literally everyone on this show, no matter their actual age.
Back in Alexandria, it’s more of the same ol’ same ol’. Maggie is ever-vigilant for Glenn’s signal. Rick, insensitive to the core, dismisses concern for her husband and redirects the conversation to how to move retrieve the cars from the quarry and move the walkers. Father Gabriel sets up a prayer circle, like that’s going to make a difference when the morale inside the walls is already shot to crap. Speaking of shooting, there’s more sullen teen angst action between Carl and Ron when Rick takes Ron out for his first official gun lesson. Like a d-bag, Carl interjects some smart comment every time Rick shuts his mouth. Even I want Ron to at least wing him with a shot by the time the real feces hits the fan later on.
