Argh! Still a week behind. Episode catch up continues.
This episode is called “South will rise again”, and I’m really hoping this doesn’t mean Confederate Zombies but who knows with this show?
We open with the return of the cowboy from episode 2. We’d kind of forgotten about him, hadn’t we? Now, just remind us, what town was it that he was riding to to get medicine for that sick child?
And as with last time, the music really could not be more ominous than if you set fire to a herd of cats and let them loose inside a grand piano. It’s almost OTT dischordant.
The Cowboy passes a schoolhouse and makes his way to the drugstore where a wholesome looking family are being served. The proprietor can’t get him what he needs until first thing tomorrow so he takes himself to the saloon…and it’s a pretty rough joint. The sort of place a man can flop Injun scalps on the bar and only get a mild telling off, but only because they’re Mexican scalps, not Injun.
The Cowboy wants a room but they only have the kind that comes with prostitutes and probable venereal disease so he takes a chair instead which he rents for the price of some booze.
He sits and observes and you know you’re in a bad town when even the local Preacher is making biblically themed cock jokes. Also, there seems to be some kind of murder-rape party going on in the back room and, Jesus, it’s the nice family from the drugstore.
The Preacher, having finished his comedy set has taken a seat at the Cowboy’s table and seems to have some knowledge of the man but is pulled away by his friends before it becomes a conversation.
In the morning the Cowboy picks up his medicine and rides out of town past the rustic civic feature that is a bunch of dead injuns hanging from a tree. He also passes a wagon which is carrying the pioneer family he encountered on his way into town, back in episode 2. The boy-child says they’re going to Ratwater.
The Cowboy reflects a while, and flashes back to the and the words “make the kid watch” from that unpleasant backroom tableau of earlier and he hightails it back in the opposite direction. When he gets back to Ratwater the wagon is hitched up outside the Saloon and the interior is covered in blood.
He busts into the saloon like he means business and The Preacher is sure he remembers him now. He goes into the back room to find the pioneer family totting up all the Injun scalps they have and the chubby child is happy to see him, but the Preacher cold-cocks the cowboy, he drops the medicine, and he gets seven kinds of shit kicked out of him by a group of men. Even as this is happening he reaches for the medicine and clutches it safely into his body. The pioneer family do not come to his aid.
He manages to make it out to his horse but the Preacher follows and reveals where he knows the Cowboy from. The Battle of Gettysburg. It seems they were on opposing sides and the Cowboy was a fearsome killer. He takes out his gun and shoots the Cowboy’s horse. He goes down.
He walks home, the medicine clutched to his chest.
When he gets there crows are pecking at what is left of his wife and his child, even the kid’s doll isn’t spared. It’s horrific and reminds me why I’ve only ever watched Hitchcock’s The Birds once.
So by choosing to come to the aid of a family who didn’t need it, he allows his own family to die.
He goes to a cupboard and gets ALL THE GUNS.
It’s night in Annville and the Sheriff, spooked by a noise outside investigates. It’s just the wind on some ugly yard ornaments, he tells Eugene to go to bed but clearly is still rattled. Eugene calls him upstairs because while they were outside someone has spraypainted Eugene’s bedroom.
The Sheriff puts two and two together and asks Eug if he went to see Tracy the comatose, which he had. And now it seems like Eugene must have had something to do with Tracey’s injury. Was this a suicide-pact thing?
Jesse is enjoying a technicolor sunrise of the sort that hasn’t been seen since the days Scarlett O’Hara. And he looks almost chemically contented. Basking in the glow of having turned Annville’s most notorious non-believer into a servant of the Lord, no doubt. But as if to suggest that you’re never far from the seemy underbelly we get a close up on one of those ominous pipes coming up out of the ground.
At the diner Emily and Jesse run over church business. She is a) worried that Cassidy’s gone AWOL with the van and b) incredulous about Odin Quincannon’s sudden spiritual awakening, while parishioners, even the teenage ones who are usually the hardest to impress, are giving him props. Jesse is on fire, y’all. Emily smells a rat, but that’s not a rodent Emily, it is the Great and Powerful Oz, I mean, God.
Speaking of Cassidy, he’s just woken up at Tulip’s place (technically Uncle Walter’s) and he’s getting the standard “so you’ve just noticed I’m a vampire” lore and limitations talk out of the way. No to fangs, taking bat form, coffins, crosses and silver bullets.
His take on the cross is pointed. But this show is kind of about religion so no surprises there.
It’s a 2000 year old symbol of hypocrisy, slavery and oppression but it won’t burn me face off.
But yes, sunlight is a thing. And he only kills people if they deserve it and blood keeps him nice, you know, but he’s got a far greater addiction to whiskey.
Satisfied that Cassidy isn’t a danger to the general populace she sends him on his way but not before he asks for opiates, the location of a hardware store and…oh yes, her heart. In that order, by the way. He’s too old for playing silly games and he’s fallen for her. So there.
And apart from the fact that Cassidy is kind of a terrible person, it’s almost sweet. Tulip, naturally isn’t buying any of this and she’s got a boyfriend anyway and as soon as he ditches his stupid job they’re going to leave and go get The Very Bad Man who screwed them over. And this would make a really awful Mills & Boon novel. I mean, Jesse isn’t even a secret billionaire and Tulip’s not accidentally pregnant but it’s basically what passes as Tulip O’Hare’s romantic fantasy of choice. Oh, and it involves strapping Carlos to a table, cutting his nads off and repeatedly stabbing him in the face with a screwdriver.
Not only is Cassidy not bothered by this – he thinks her boyfriend is a pantywaist for not backing her up. They’re almost the perfect couple apart from the fact that Cassidy is something of a Dionysian influence on those around him and my feeling is Tulip probably needs more of a calming influence than anything.
Still at the diner shmoozing is Jesse, and it seems that Emily might not be his only fan anymore.
Donnie, who we last saw running away from a gas station after Jesse nearly got him to shoot himself in the face, is in bed and doesn’t want to get out of it but his wife reminds him he has a job to go to. By way of inspirational motto she says “The South will rise again” and that everybody gets a whupping sometime. But Donnie is in the grips of full blown existential dread. He’s nothing but cattle turning this way and that through a maze towards the kill floor.
Well fiddle-dee-dee, Donnie. If you don’t get up out of bed I’m going to do the toilet-stall-polka with Russell from accounting so you’d best get your ass out of bed. If “the South” doesn’t rise again, Russell will, ya hear?
At the Sundowner Motel our angelic bounty-hunters have still not answered the call. Instead they’re workshopping how their end of the call will go before they actually have the conversation, sort of like how you do when you drunk-dial your ex. When you rehearse your lines beforehand you are full of insouciance and cool detachment but somehow it just turns into “why don’ t you love meeeeee?” and sobbing.
At Jesse’s Emily is looking over the books and cash but stops to pick up Jesse’s clothes on the floor. She lingers a little too long with the pants but otherwise it’s all pretty innocent. As she takes a toilet break though, Tulip just emerges out of the shadows in a seriously spooky manner and leans in the doorway. Tulip sizes Emily up who has the good sense to be scared enough to lose her flow. Tulip finds out that Jesse is at the diner and leaves allowing Emily some peace in which to piss, possibly out of terror.
At the Sheriff’s house Eugene has made his dad an omelette for breakfast but his father is very much not in the mood. As Eugene tries to be helpful, cutting his dad’s omelette for him he explodes, flinging the breakfast into a wall and telling Eugene he should do as the graffiti on his bedroom wall suggests and finish the job. Eugene looks heartbroken and crouches down to clean up the mess while The Sheriff doesn’t even say sorry, the dick.
In an undisclosed location and man looks at a gauge that’s up towards the red end of the spectrum. He taps the glass and the needle sinks down to a safer level but he doesn’t look happy and walks away from a large but antique looking console. What’s it all about? No idea.
Next we stop in with Odin Quincannon who is a new man. He’s admitting his faults left, right and centre and apologising to Mr Mayor. Donnie is stunned and confused. Until he hears that the Boss has been at church and the gears and wheels in Donnie’s head start turning and by jove, I think he’s got it!
This newfound deductive reasoning gets Donnie’s adrenalin going and he loudly demands to know what Custer said to Quincannon and he repeats that he was told to serve God, and that’s what he intends to do. And it seems like he’s starting by meeting up with these reputable sounding Green Acres people.
At the diner and Jesse is STILL there, sneakily using his power to help people, one after the other, listening to their stories and applying powerful suggestion where it seems prudent. Well heck, JC you’re practically JC, ya know?
Naturally Tulip turns up to ruin the sermon on the mount. She tells a story about this Bad Man she used to run with who, mainly because an associate was looking at her all skeazy, ended up shooting a komodo dragon in the face. It’s all very Quentin Tarantino. I mean, they’re even in a diner. The only way that scene could be more Tarantino-esque is if Cheech Marin was the fry-cook. But anyway, Jesse wants Tulip to look at him and see that he’s changed, and for a moment she does and she even sees it though she doesn’t want to. Jesse tells her if he can be good then so can she, because isn’t that all anyone wants really? To be good.
The waitress comes by and says there’s something outside wanting to see the Preacher. Not someONE, someTHING.
Poor Eugene. He’s come because everyone hates him but that’s okay, he deserves it, only his dad is the one that bears the brunt of it. He doesn’t eat. He cries at night. Maybe the Preacher could pray with him, help him somehow. Jesse is keen as but there’s something not right about his smile which should be warm and comforting but which reminds me of Robert Patrick in Terminator 2, all cold and sly. Maybe this power thing is addictive?
Jesse stops by the Loach home and gets a warmer reception than last time but also a request for him to pray with Tracy as he’s they’ve tried but he’s the only one whose prayers seem to work. Unfortunately Mrs Loach sees that Jesse has brought Eugene with him in the truck and she goes full tilt at it with a baseball bat, screaming at him that she’ll kill him. Jesse orders her to drop the bat so she does but she keeps on, smashing the window of the truck. A crowd has gathered and sees Jesse order to back away, which she also does.
He brings Eugene out of the truck and she’s still calling him a murderer…until Jesse tells her to forgive him. She embraces a worried Eugene and Jesse basks in the glow of a job well done.
At Quincannon Meat & Power Donnie finally fesses up to his wife what he’s figured out about the Preacher. He is genuinely disturbed, by the powerlessness he felt while in Jesse’s command. He’d be a perfect candidate for a Kilgrave support group if this were based on a Marvel comic instead of DC. He’s figured out that Linus the bus driver and Mr Quincannon are both “victims” of this power. His wife takes this all in stride and just reminds him that Preacher will eventually get what’s coming to him.
Eugene questions Jesse as to what exactly happened with Mrs Loach, and Jesse reckons that this will ease the Sheriff’s worry and suffering so…ta-dah!
Night has fallen and there’s a crow eating discarded takeaway noodles in the middle of the road, near a drugstore. So it’s very reminiscent of the opening Cowboy-centric vignette. And thanks, guys, I’d almost forgotten about that child getting her face pecked out. Cheers for bringing that up again.
Tulip’s parked up nearby, and may be casing the joint but she seems far more contemplative than usual. Less angry, more thoughtful. Still, she pulls on a balaclava anyway, sticks a pistol in her back waistband and heads toward the entrance.
At the motel OH MY GOD ANSWER THE EFFING PHONE ALREADY. And because these two knuckleheads are basically the comic relief the phone stops ringing just as Fiore has built up the courage to answer it. And you know that’s got to be worse…
Presumably things went swimmingly at the drugstore for Tulip because we next see her at a strip club. And is it wrong that I found the sign quite funny? It is, isn’t it?
Cassidy comes out and Tulip has a present for him. I did wonder if that’s what the trip to the drugstore was about…some opiates for Cassidy. He wants to know if they’re going steady now and she flatly, and with all the feeling with which you’d announce the price of a tin of peas, says they’re in love. They consummate this beautiful relationship in the backseat of her car during which Tulip is about as unmoved as it’s possible to be whilst a vampire of unknown age is enthusiastically rogering you from behind.
Back at the diner, Jesse is still dispensing bland, if useful advice like “just use your best judgement”. He’s obviously worked through all the townsfolk with serious issues and is now dealing with first world problems like “how to manage screentime”. Which is when the Sheriff and the Bobsy Twins turn up aka The Men from The Government.
They’ve given him what he wanted – money for drugs, whores etc – and told him not to use the power but here he is using it. They need it back. Fortunately Jesse figures out pretty quickly that Cassidy is involved but it’s all still pretty confusing in a “government men from Heaven with a coffee can” kind of way. Then they lay on the real head-trip. The entity inside him is not God.
At Odin Quincannon’s office it’s brandy time with the Green Acres crew – does anyone else find it odd that the main guy is called Jerry Cutler? It’s awfully close to Jesse Custer, after all. But nevermind, this meeting is going swimmingly and Quincannon is in a very hospitable mood. Something bad is going to be happening soon.
And it doesn’t take long folks, because right after enquiring as to how the drive was and serving brandy, Quincannon blasts his competitors away. He turns to the Mayor and says “we grow or we die, Miles”.
So apparently Odin Quincannon’s way of serving God, like that of many Americans, involves gun violence.
I’m glad to see a bit more action in this episode. It does seem that finally a little momentum is building. I’m surprised that the Tulip and Cassidy thing happened as quickly as it did. I thought that might be a slowburn type thing, but no, straight into lewd conduct in the backseat. Fair enough. Still a lot of questions to answer in the next episode including how long before Cassidy and Jesse realise they have something extra in common now? What is the exact nature of Jesse’s power. How is Donnie going to get revenge? Also, Jerry Cutler didn’t last long and does this bode ill for the other JC? And I do like that Donnie’s character which could easily have stayed two dimensional, has been fleshed out so that at moments I feel sorry for him even though he’s clearly an asshole.