The Moth Chase

This is what she felt

Sons of Anarchy – “NS”

Great finale to a mixed season. Credit has to be given to Sutter and the writers for producing extraordinary drama out of (apparently) low stakes; once Abel was recovered, what seemed to be a long denouement has turned out to be the show returning to its real story, which is the club’s ATF case and pending imprisonment, the question of how Jax’s loyalty to the club would manifest, and the resolution of Donna’s death from season 1. Does that make the Abel story a misfire? In some respects, maybe; it’s questionable whether stones really did get unturned in Ireland, and in retrospect the two storylines don’t fully cohere. On the other hand, the confidence with which “NS” picked up very old plot arcs and handled them capably suggests that the real outcome of the Belfast episodes may still be in the future. I have to admit that my trust in Sutter as a storyteller has been restored a good deal after last night, but that possibility, while encouraging, also bugs me a bit – to what extent do season-spanning narrative arcs trump coherent storytelling on the week-to-week level? (Again, the LOST effect).

Rather than going right to Jax’s (slightly murky) big triplecross, I’ll start with the double murder on the roadside. Is anyone going to miss Stahl? No, I don’t think so. I’ve actually been a defender of her character before, but by the end of her run, she’s devolved into someone so pathologically evil and manipulative that she became a drag on the show. Her murder of her partner and girlfriend last week in many respects pushed things over the edge. The problem wasn’t its believability -  it’s a plausible developement for her character, who would do anything for her case against the IRA, which had devolved into pure obsession at that point. The problem was that the motives were so unclear – I’m still foggy on what investment she had in Salazar’s fate so as to provoke Tyler’s shooting, and more to the point, I don’t find myself compelled to sort it out. Things are exactly opposite with Fr. Ashby, a figure whose motives were totally ambiguous for much of the season, until a single clarifying moment completely changed his character and made all of his actions lucid. That was no longer possible for Stahl’s character, and so – farewell to her.

On the other hand: what was fascinating about “NS” last night was the way the episode demonstrated how well the show plays with the murky morality and twisted power relations surrounding the club. Like The Shield, but seen from the opposite side, Sons lives in a world in which “law” and “outlaw” become increasingly meaningless the more one pushes into their interrelationships. Like Tara’s FBI stalker, Kohn, Stahl revealed the law as predatory, parasitical, and – inept. In the politics of the Sons of Anarchy, justice dwells somewhere else than in the rule of law, and one of its supreme principles is retribution.

The reason why I’m concentrating on Stahl, rather than Jax and the ATF deal, is that for all of Stahl’s cartoonishness, her final scene with Opie was the most powerful moment the show has delivered in a long time. While Chibs murdered Jimmy with a vicious placidity (“why so serious?”), Opie quietly said to himself, “this is what she felt,” before gunning Stahl down with a burst of rounds to the skull. It was a horrifying moment, but a deeply satisfying one, too (and I say that knowing how compromising it sounds), because it took us all the way back to season 1, and resolved a long-standing tension. The events of season 2 seemed to have put Donna’s murder permanently in the realm of memory, but last night showed that for all of the trouble Kurt Sutter had with the story of this season, the season-spanning arcs are still in control. “NS” provided closure on Donna’s death, the counterpoint to “the outlaw showed mercy” of season 2, and presumably healed any lingering rift between Clay and Jax. The responsibility for Donna really lies all with Stahl, and with her death, any reason for Jax to wander from the true path disappears.

Indeed, the major turning points of the back half of the season seem to have solidified Jax and Clay’s alignment in terms of the direction of the club. The opening of the gun pipeline in Jimmy’s elimination, the resolution of Donna’s death, “I’m done listening to dead men,” the hearty laugh in the ATF truck – it all points to Jax’s commitment to the club. The nice symmetry of the episode displayed this more than anything – the scene with Stahl set in the cemetery, calling back to the season 1 finale, and the “you love the right things” episode earlier in the season (“SO” – the first of the two rings): everything indicates a settling of accounts in Jax’s mind. Of course, the only problem there is Maureen’s letters, discovered by Tara in the closing moments while “the king is gone but he’s not forgotten” is sung in the background. All seems well, or as well as could be when half the club is off to prison, in the world of SAMCRO; and just as the opening montage felt far too good to be true, it was just one of the many misdirections of this episode. I didn’t know whether to be offended or thrilled that the primary con of the episode was on us, the audience,* but I’ve actually settled with thrilled, because the big reveal of the episode sets up a the possibility of some really interesting developments next season. That is, all seems happy and well as the MC is carted off to prison, but after the big laugh, there was a lingering silence and an unflinching closeup of Jax’s face. It reminded me of nothing so much as that haunting ending of “The Graduate” – when joy fades to…now what?**

*As soon as Opie and Lyla announced, “We’re getting married!” in that opening montage, I turned to my wife and said, “Something is going to go badly wrong.” Turns out not so much!

**(Ssn 6 Buffy spoiler) Alternately, this could easily have been the closing song: “The battle’s done, and we kinda won.”

Smokes, whiskey, and a new life

Sons of Anarchy: “Firinne”

First off, sorry to my two or three readers (hi, Mom!) for the two weeks’ absence. An incredible amount of stuff has happened in the last two episodes, which I won’t try to summarize or reflect upon; instead, I’ll jump into one of the best episodes Sons has put together in quite a while – all season, by my lights – as we race toward the finish of the season and the return to Charming.

There’s been a lot of discussion, much of it totally justified, about the pacing issues and plot contrivances of this season; more than anything, this season has lacked the dramatic punch that last year’s cliffhanger seemed to promise. As I wrote in discussing the early episodes, I think part of that was quite deliberate, as the show was laying down character dynamics and interrelationships rather than moving the plot forward or filling in backstory; and I think that work was necessary to give weight to a season meant to focus on SAMCRO mythology (as Kurt Sutter recently said). But still – there’s no denying that the swift beheading of SAMBEL, the revelation of Ashby’s motives, and the sudden testing of the Mayan alliance in last night’s episode, couched of course in extraordinary violence, was satisfying in a visceral* way that much of the season has not been. More important than plot, though – I think this season has been characterized by too much plot, not too little – was the ability of the show to return to its roots in the nasty, brutish, and short life of a Son of Anarchy. This is the logic of this show, and these people, and it is ineluctable: absolute loyalty to the club, absolute willingness to kill or be killed in defense of the club, and the absolute knowledge that a failure of loyalty means your own death. Those are the rules.

I doubt O’Neill was surprised, and McGee certainly wasn’t, at the outcome of their actions; if SAMCRO couldn’t be destroyed, then any attempt to avoid the inevitable reprisal for their betrayal was a half-hearted protest against an absolute fate. O’Neill’s interrogation scene harked back to the episode of season 1 when an exiled member was subjected to the blowtorch to remove his ink (did you catch Happy’s sadistic little grin to Bobby’s “medieval” comment?), and as soon as that happened, the show had found its footing again, I think. Sutter and company’s willingness to go to very dark places** in this show is its very DNA; and all the character work in the world – secret babies, chosen sons, and episodes of dementia – cannot substitute for this. On the other hand, the violence of this show counts in a way that would seem gratuitous in most other shows just because of that character work (The Shield and The Wire being the obvious progenitors).

The best example of that latter point is the brilliant duo of Maureen and Gemma, who switched from allies to enemies several times last night. Their standoff about John Teller’s dalliances and Gemma’s “meatgrinder” reputation gave us the best exchange of the episode, and my title; but Maureen’s little nod to Gemma over the interrogation of Cherry (reflecting the men’s solidarity in O’Neill’s torture), and of course their collective unwillingness to sanction a “three-headed grandchild,” told the real story about them. They are very similar women, and most of their conflict derives from that similarity, which is rooted in the “behind the throne” logic of the old lady. It’s easy to forget that the first major block of this season was all about Gemma, as she’s been something of a marginal player in Belfast; but in retrospect, she continues to be the moral heart of this show, and Maureen has been every bit her equal.

I won’t say much about the events in Charming, although I thought the scene with Alvarez was played beautifully, and I love that Kozick is taking on a leadership role – and that Tig is letting him. Instead, I just want to dwell on that final scene for a moment, when Ashby tells Jax that “the patch was a mistake.” It’s actually a great leitmotif for this episode – association with the SAMCRO patch cost O’Neill and McGee their lives, has Tara and Margaret tied to a beam, and has now put Jax in an impossible decision. I say impossible, because there’s a moment in Jax’s rage last night where he clearly knew Ashby, filthy Judas though he undoubtedly is, was telling the truth – Abel very well might be better off with a “good Catholic family.” It’s a wake-up call to Jax, who decided at the end of season 1 that the patch was, indeed, a mistake. For a season and a half, he’s lost his way; so if he returns to that path of reclaiming the MC from Clay, the stakes for his son’s future will be that much clearer.

-Travis

*A poor word choice, or an especially appropriate word choice, depending on how you look at it, by which I mean, depending on whether you’re O’Neill or not.

**Although, thank God, I have to register relief that the show didn’t start “dancing in Tig territory.”

Secret babies are a bad idea

Sons of Anarchy – “The Widening Gyre”

So Trinity, Maureen’s daughter, is Jax’s half-sister. I think we all saw that coming, at least all of us except Gemma, and her reaction undoubtedly pales in comparison to how it will hit Clay and Jax, now that all three are in Belfast (or are on their way). It’s an interesting reversal, isn’t it? The first half of the season was preoccupied with Clay and Jax keeping a devastating secret from Gemma; now the dynamic is inverted. The reversal is particularly interesting as one more step into the mystery of John Teller,* and Maureen is at the center of both secrets. The interesting thing, however, is that the necessity of preserving their secret forced Clay and Jax together; this secret has the potential to tear all three apart.

The metaphor is not subtle, but it’s still fascinating: the secrets we harbor in order to maintain the peace of our relationships are also the ones that continually threaten to destroy us. Tara’s pregnancy confronts her with a difficult choice – end a pregnancy and hide it from the man she clearly still loves, or keep it and accept the compromising ties it imposes with the MC. Likewise, Maureen, the bearer of another secret baby, is continually being torn by competing pressures, and it seems clear that the legacy of the father is proving an impossible burden to bear. Secret babies are a bad idea.

Last night’s episode, which finally got SAMCRO moving to Belfast, was a bit of a mixed bag, but for a slow-moving season, it was notable how swiftly some of its key moments unfolded – like the news of John Teller’s Irish daughter. Two sequences especially stood out: the confrontation in the restroom with the Calaveras “bullshit MC,” and Gemma’s heist-style escape from the hospital. The first worked for me, the second did not. The confrontation with Calaveras has been brewing for a while, and the deal with the Mayans was never going to eliminate it (and it now looks like Tara is going to be in danger from the shamed and ostracized Salazar); but what was effective with that scene was how it showed the carefully negotiated and socialized space within which violence happens in this show. It is retributive, but also sacrificial – killing happens within a careful political economy on Sons, and it is those who disrupt that economy, like Salazar’s hapless lieutenant, who are the only legitimate targets,** and their sacrifice maintains that order. Justice here is swift, vicious, and not open to appeal. But it’s also deeply conservative, because it’s the exception that maintains order. This is, at the least, deeply ironic for a gang who style themselves as they do – sons of anarchy.

Anyway, what didn’t work last night in the hijinks-ensuing escape from the hospital was, I think, Tara’s sudden change of heart; for that matter, neither did her administrator boss suddenly being on her side (although the fact that she took the opportunity to take a shot at Tara totally did). The relationship between Tara and Gemma has been carefully worked out the past three seasons, and Gemma’s cold and calculated belittling of Tara last week showed both how far and how little the two of them have gone. It makes a certain amount of sense for Tara to act in loyalty to Gemma, but it makes a lot more sense for her to get out now, and that means walking away, not wading further in. In sum, I guess the problem was plot showing in this sequence; the final scene was, however, effectively portrayed. The understated confrontation with Unser and the escaping Gemma showed how quickly and quietly that relationship has fallen apart; we haven’t seen much of Unser this season (or Opie or Bobby, for that matter), but it feels like he’s being put into position as a grudging ally of Hale for the events to come.

The widening gyre calls back, of course, to the “turning and turning” of two week’s ago. As we learn of a conspiracy in Belfast, their very own fellow charter conspiring with Jimmy, and the dubious certainty of Alvarez’s loyalties at home defended only by mortal enemies Tig and Kozick, the possibility of the center – Jax, Clay, and Gemma – not holding seems to portend ill fortune for the club. Of course, the other way to interpret Yeats’s line lies in the words “mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.” Indeed, SAMCRO is uprooted and at large in the world – the Ireland episodes promise to be anarchic indeed.

I’ll leave out the kind-of hilarious serious of faceslaps in the opening scene, the comically clueless prospects, and Tig being on the lam for now. On to Belfast!

*Since Natalie has already broken the theological ice this week, I’ll make a little observation here about the symbolism going on: the Father is reflected in the Son, but his true nature remains unknown without the mystery of the Trinity. Just saying…

**Except in the case of wars between rival gangs, but this just proves the point: politics is the continuation of war by other means.

-Travis

I don’t recognize your b.s. MC.

Sons of Anarchy: “The Push”

It feels about time, before I enthuse about this episode, to go back to one of the first things I wrote in this series of reviews: FX has got some of the strongest shows on the radar right now. So it’s appropriate that Sons of Anarchy has become its flagship, officially anointing it as the successor of the mighty The Shield. I got ridiculously excited at the Justified season two tease last night, and Terriers is by far the best new show this season. All of these shows share incredibly talented casts, superb writing, and most of all, a completely different feel than anything else on TV right now. So, I guess what I’m saying is, please save Terriers. Because what I’m also saying? Apparently, that the Shawn Ryan pedigree has yet to fail.

So, “The Push.” This episode was in many ways textbook Sons. The pre-credit sequence, which gave us a glimpse of Half-Sack’s replacements, and a brawl between Tig and Kozik (Lem from The Shield, speaking of), was the brightest moment of levity we’ve seen in Charming in a while. The derision of the prospects and the bloody airing of grievances, both accompanied by the cheers of the club, was a great moment revealing the social ties that make SAMCRO such a fascinating microcosm. The Sons are always on the verge of being outmaneuvered, outgunned, or simply arrested, but they always seem to possess the resources to endure – and these are based in a set of relationships that are born of violence, but are at the same time cemented in loyalty and respect. Tig and Kozik can beat the hell out of each other, and squabble in the middle of an assassination, but still work together seamlessly; likewise, Half-Sack, always the butt of a joke, found his place in the club by adopting his role in the hierarchy and gradually transforming it into his own – so much so that the three prospects can’t really hope to take his place. Likewise, Juice’s return from marginal status with the return of his cut, and the pivotal role the recovery of his honor plays in the pact with Mayans, demonstrates the ‘one for all’ ethos that’s so important to Sons this season. I’m not saying that the MC is a model community, of course; but rather, that one of the geniuses of the show lies in its ability to reveal, in a way another crime drama like The Sopranos never fully could, characters that simultaneously fulfill and exceed the power relations that define their roles. In a highly structured world like SAMCRO, to paint characters this rich that don’t simply fill certain stereotypes – the thug, the sensitive guy, the funny guy, the morally conflicted one – is remarkable.

The show tends to play off Clay’s habit of rushing in with guns blazing over against Jax’s more strategic and cool-headed approach, but “The Push” reminded us how shrewd Clay can be. On almost any other show, the deal with the Mayans wouldn’t have worked – it’s a major source of conflict eliminated at a stroke, and it would have seemed like a deus ex machina. But Clay has made these deals before – he has Oswald firmly under his control, and his reaction to Unser’s betrayal just reinforces how long the Charming PD were in his pocket – and his “It’s not personal, it’s just business” approach embodies his character as MC President at the core. By contrast, Jax appears a loose cannon – breaking up with Tara, hooking up with his (remarkably and conveniently persistent) porn star suitor, and negotiating a deal with  Stahl that can’t possibly end well. Last night reminded us of Jax’s weaknesses – it’s not clear to me why he broke up with Tara, something I attribute not to weak writing but to the fact that it’s not clear to Jax. The pangs of conscience about her losing her medical license and “saving lives” don’t sit well with his acquiescence to Clay’s casual demotion of her potential “old lady” status, and his skeezy hook-up at episode’s end. Whether he’s acting out of Hamlet’s constitutional timorousness, or out of no-distractions, going-to-war resolve, it’s that unstable marriage of emotional impulsiveness and methodical calculation that leaves him vulnerable to Clay’s manipulation (“She just a chick – don’t complicate it”).

The final sequence was particularly effective, giving the Sons one last night with loved ones (or, with Tara and Jax, not) before they take off for Belfast, all the pieces now finally in place. ** The Irish storyline receded this week, of course, but this seemed appropriate as the Sons are departing right as their long-range problems in Charming are truly beginning to solidify, most of which are still opaque to them – the mayoral race, Unser’s retreat, and of course Darby’s return. The bail hearing and inevitable prison time may be put off long enough for “stones to be unturned,” but just barely. The endgame for this season is emerging with increasingly clarity, and it promises to be monumental.

*No special relevance to this week’s episode, but I’m with Mo Ryan – this is the greatest SoA quote in the history of ever, and this seems as good a time as ever to repeat it.

**Further on the royalty theme I discussed last week: Gemma and Clay watching The King and I.

-Travis

Stones get unturned

Sons of Anarchy: “Turning and Turning”

It’s going to be a quick post this week, but I have to note that after defending SoA‘s tendency to tread water this season by focusing on character issues (a defense I hold to), after last night, the show is back. The funny thing is, we still haven’t left for Belfast, but something of major structural importance has happened: the Shakespearean dynamic of season 1 returns once Jax vows to go to Belfast: Clay and Gemma are holding a secret from Jax, who is about to stumble onto major revelations about the circumstances that led to the death of his father and his mother’s marriage to Clay. So it appears, anyhow, from Gemma and Clay’s terse and desperate conversation: “If Jax goes to Belfast, stones get unturned.”

Most importantly, though, Jax is back. This is the first time in a while we’ve seen something resembling the Jax of last season, the one who proceeds by strategy, deliberation, and alliances (which always includes compromises). And while the king and queen scheme to keep Jax in the dark and fear their secrets coming to light, the difference between Jax and Clay emerges again. Clay would’ve pulled the trigger on Jimmy’s lieutenant (whose name escapes me); Jax turns him over to, of all people, Stahl, the sworn enemy of the MC. But knowing this show, major complications will ensue. Most likely, I suppose, something will go down in Belfast that will expose Jimmy’s increasing vulnerability. But if SAMCRO can exploit that will depend on how it handles the coming war with the Mayans, and whoever (Zobelle redivivus?) is buying up property in Charming. Stahl is almost certain to break her deal with Jax, just as she did with Gemma; but because this is Jax she is dealing with, whose rage has transformed into ruthlessly shrewd calculation, I expect Jax will have twists in store for her as well.

Look at any review of Sons today, and chances are you’ll immediately see that the title of this week’s episode comes from Yeat’s famous poem “The Second Coming” – Turning and turning in the widening gyre /The falcon cannot hear the falconer;/Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;/Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world. It’s kind of a motto for this show, things falling apart. But you know what is really a center that cannot hold? A secret. We have three major secrets revealed, or stones unturned, in this episode, in addition to the looming secret of John Teller’s Irish ties and death:

• Everyone now knows that Abel is in Belfast, and fittingly enough, the conveyor of that news was Gemma, who was shut out from the entire situation up until the moment of her collapse.
• Jimmy O’s duplicity in playing with the Son’s ignorance of that fact is now in the open, with some seriously heavy reprisals bound to occurs as a result.
• Tara is pregnant! Ok, that one is a bit melodramatic, but it’s interesting for two reasons: first, the conversation between Gemma and Tara was a fascinating portrayal of how, for all the apparent development in their relationship, the power still flows very much one way. Gemma is still the queen, and still the protector of her son. Second, if we pursue the royalty theme that the show continually trades on, we now have an heir to the throne whose legitimacy challenges Abel’s status. Neither mother is an accepted member of the court, but Abel was adopted by Gemma as heir after his mother was (very nearly) killed; Tara, on the other hand, is on the inside, even if as an inferior. What might this mean for a second son, and Gemma’s attitude toward a potential usurper?

The contrast to these major revelations is Jax’s backroom deal with Stahl. In order to clear the club of the charges against them, Jax will hand over the IRA – which cannot possibly go over well, but is an effective revenge when Jimmy remains untouchable – and accept jail time for himself, at least. If this episode is playing with the metaphor of the second coming of the promised Son, then the Son’s sacrifice for the good of the club cannot be accidental.

I continue to be impressed how the paradox of the title drives this show; at the end of the day, Sons of Anarchy is as much a political thriller as it is Shakespearean drama or anarchist utopian fantasy. The show is driven by the continual negotiation of territory, trade, sovereignty, and the local royalties and hierarchies that hold the whole thing together. These constructions of power and honor run deep in the differences between Jax and Clay, and they also seem to form the divisions between SAMCRO in Ireland and the True IRA. How this will all play out remains to be seen; but I think last night showed that they are fully in motion at last.

-Travis

I have tried in my way to be free

Sons of Anarchy - “Home”

Like a bird on a wire,

like a drunk in a midnight choir,

I have tried in my way

to be free.

Those words of Leonard Cohen couldn’t be better suited for Sons of Anarchy if he had written them for the show. But it’s pretty awesome that they were sung by Katey Sagal, whose portrayal of Gemma is nothing short of extraordinary. Her performance last season was infamously Emmy-snubbed, but given more nuanced and, in a way, more compromising material this season,* she has made Gemma, who was something of a monster by “Na Tribioldi,” simultaneously an exiled queen of an outlaw gang, a loyal but helpless daughter, and a hoodwinked and betrayed grandmother, spouse, and mother.

Last night’s Sons continued the theme of last week, exploring the travails of the old ladies, the daughters of anarchy, in the gang. Gemma is lied to again and again about her grandson, while she has to face the devastating decision to turn her father over to a retirement home.** Tara, once again pushed away by Jax, finally finds herself owning up to the fact that her pledge to the Hippocratic Oath is dead in the water: “Is that old lady enough for you?” she rages, admitting the killing and…um…disposing of the caretaker. Mo is caught between the scheming of Jimmy O and Father Ashby in Belfast, neither side of whom seems to have a clear agenda with Abel other than keeping the knowledge of his expatriation as far as possible from the Sons.

There’s been some complaints about the pace of this season; a shootout with rednecks right out of Deliverance aside,*** this season so far has been more about laying some pieces in place and filling in some of the Irish backstory, and to that extent, I understand why viewers might be looking for a little more, well, anarchy. But on the other hand, what this slowdown has done has put the characters in a kind of helpless holding pattern, like Jax or Gemma, while some of the relationships between the characters, especially Jax, Clay, and Gemma, get deepened and in a certain sense, twisted. The bonds of family have been at stake from the beginning of this show, and while the murder of Donna and the rape of Gemma strained those bonds, they didn’t challenge the integrity of the Sons the way the events of this season have. The show has, most certainly, delayed in committing SAMCRO to the road, whether Vancouver or Belfast, and that’s been frustrating; but on the other hand, uprooting the Sons while refusing to give them a clear mission has highlighted their vulnerability more than even a car bomb in their parking lot could have. The conceit of this show, after all, is that the Sons are kings of Charming, and every trouble they have is directly related to that, whether it is an invasion of their home turf, or their attempts to venture out into the world of rival gangs. It’s only then, in the face of external threats, that internal fissures tend to be revealed. So it’s inevitable that an episode staged away from “Home” would show them facing their most serious internal troubles yet.

And that’s being reflected in their relationships this season. It might not, indeed, be the ideological conflict between Jax and Clay that brings about their showdown, but rather the helpless rage of a son striking out against those closest to him. Clay’s impotence has been shown this season far more starkly than before, as has Jax’s; but while Jax is a bomb waiting to go off, Clay can barely keep his hands on the grips of his bike. Can you have a more appropriate metaphor than Clay’s hand being literally tied to his bike so he can maintain control? And that Jax is the one to do the binding? As for Gemma: I’ve always thought the scar running down her chest was an apt metaphor for her being the exposed heart of this show. Torn between Jax and Clay, now lied to by both of them, the episode closed with her clutching her chest and falling to the ground.****  I suppose we have our answer about what Gemma would do when she found out about Abel. I always imagined a maniacal fury erupting; but this is a woman has suffered too much to do anything but drop to the ground lifeless. That’s a far cry from the woman who bashed her rival across the face with a skateboard; and it’s also a long ways from the violated woman who kept silent to protect the club she loved.

A club that, by the way, is going back to jail in two days.

-Travis

*Obviously a rape is the very definition of “compromising;” what I mean is that her role this season has focused so far on more ambiguous and more quietly intimate material – her relationship with her parents on the one hand, and her confinement and murder of the caretaker on the other, an act shocking even to Clay and Jax.

**Hal Holbrook has been amazing, but his performance last night was superb – his pleas (“Take me home, please take me home”) sounded like the pitiful cries of a child. I don’t think I’ve ever fully grasped how agonizing the decision is that adults must make in our culture to commit their parents to assisted care, nor how much that must seem like treachery to the sufferer of dementia.

**** Second best line of the night to Tara’s “Is that old lady enough for you?”: Piney – “‘Cause we’re the good guys.”

****Another interesting Mad Men parallel!

You are all very unbalanced individuals

Sons of Anarchy: “Caregiver”

“Caregiver” finds SAMCRO continuing in their precarious position, forming new alliances (and threatening those ties as soon as they are formed) and still having no real clue where to find Abel. This is a club that is just on the verge of losing their position of power; they’ve healed, or covered over, their internal divisions, but in the meantime the outside world has transformed. They shuffle pieces of their empire, paying the Grim Bastards with guns they can only dubiously afford from the Chinese, wrecking their chances at a lasting partnership with the Chinese when they try to use the disintegrating remains of their porn business, even as Charming is starting to shun them for allowing the chaos of their underground empire to spill onto the streets, the hostile mayoral candidate is making friends with their only ally on the police force, all while they’re planning to skip bail, break faith with their sole legitimate business partner, and ride to Vancouver to track down a man who is dead by the side of the road halfway across the world.

Also, Stephen King was in this episode. So there’s that.

For much of “Caregiver,” I was thinking of that fascinating closing shot from Mad Men this week, with Peggy, Joan, and Faye in the elevator together: each of them have successfully inserted themselves into the gentleman’s club that is Sterling Cooper Draper Price, and enjoy positions of influence that poor Mrs. Blankenship could never imagine. But each in their own way have paid a heavy price in that struggle. The parallels with SAMCRO are interesting – the Sons are obviously a deeply hierarchical and male-driven organization, and the role of “old lady” is rigorously defined, although it’s a big step up in prestige from the porn stars the club manage like so many cattle. But the worlds of SCDP and SAMCRO are interestingly different; one is prefeminist, and one is (if I might be so bold), postfeminist. The conversation between Jax and Opie last night was revealing: John Teller wrote, says Jax, that there were only two ways to handle your old lady – either you tell her everything, or you tell her nothing. You allow her full involvement, and thus implicate her fully; or you protect her at all costs.

Indeed, the theme of Sons this week shifts from fathers and sons to the women of SoA. For all that Gemma and Tara seemed to be growing together last season, the captivity and semi-accidental death of the caregiver illustrated how far the rift remains between them; Tara is decidedly not Gemma, and increasingly Gemma is not the Gemma we’ve known. Mo, we learn in a bit of a casual bombshell, had a thing with John Teller, and it appears that Belfast (which has its own Sons chapter!) was home to JT for some time; but Mo is now on the outside looking in.* Really, this was an episode for a lot of women – and Opie – to find themselves shut out of something, and to be in a position of powerlessness not normally their own. We have yet to see Gemma’s reaction to having the kidnapping of her son kept from her, and Tara has come up against the more macabre side of her boyfriend’s way of life; her departure is starting to look plausible again.

So what is “postfeminist” here? Don’t get me wrong – this is still very much a man’s world. These guys still make the rules, and cast the votes, that determine where their “old ladies” fit in the organization; but the contrast is strong between Jax and Opie’s conversation, right after Opie finished breaking up the sex party to defend his girlfriend’s honor,** and Clay’s cynical yet affectionate remark about Jax being “whipped.” Jax and Opie’s conversation revealed their awareness of just how much agency the women have in this world; the women of SAMCRO are not struggling anonymously in invisible roles, figures to be snuck out the back when they die quietly and unnoticed. There are of course no guarantees – Gemma, usually Gertrude to Clay’s Claudius, is spinning her wheels ignorant of her grandson’s status, and Donna, always kept in the dark, was gunned down two season ago. But these events are striking aberrations: the old ladies always have cards to play. They’re a bit like Sally Draper – she may be hauled away, but you can be certain she’ll be back. They figure in their own destiny, or better, they’re just as caught up, and complicit, in the spiraling chaos of the club’s dealings as are the men. I suppose I mean that anarchy has daughters as well as sons.

*SoA dispenses its revelations so matter-of-factly that I found myself preparing to be shocked to learn that Jax was actually Mo’s son; that didn’t happen, but clearly her involvement in the history of SAMCRO is deep, and not yet fully explained. Also, Amanda Graystone really knows her away around an Irish accent.

**Two things. First: finally, more Opie. Opie has always been a character who lent the show an unforced and dramatically interesting pathos, and I find Ryan Hurst’s acting to be quietly engrossing. Second: the brawl in the Chinese restaurant was pretty awesome, and I particularly love that as soon as one member of the gang started a fight, the others jumped in, not to restrain him (which would have been in their best interest) but to defend him, consequences be damned. This kind of thing has happened a dozen times before, but it’s one of the things that so vividly render the world of Sons of Anarchy; loyalty counts in this universe above all.

-Travis

I’m helping him through it

Sons of Anarchy: “Oiled”

Last week, SoA ended with a montage designed to set up some of the major storylines of this season, set to Richard Thompson’s “Dad’s Gonna Kill Me.” It was an effective and chilling device, with a big reveal (Abel in Belfast), a Whedon-style sudden death (Hale), and a devastating explosion of brutality from a character who we’ve come to think of as the emerging idealist in the club.  When Jax started beating the gunman’s head into the pavement, we knew any number of things were going through his mind – lingering anger at Donna’s death, frustration at his inability to bring Clay down, his protectiveness of the besieged club that provides the very fabric of his life, and of course, the helpless rage of a father powerless to get his son back.

So when this episode opens up with a fascinating juxtaposition of two men in cells – Cameron in the confessional in Belfast, and Jax prostrate in jail – the words “forgive me father, for I have sinned” have a particular poignancy. In this show, the struggles of characters are the struggles bequeathed to them by their fathers. Consider:

• By the end of the episode, Cameron is killed by a father – Fr. Ashby – for acting to avenge the death of his son, an act which has imperiled the SAMCRO-IRA alliance.
• Said alliance is tied to a relationship between Jax’s father, John Teller, and the Irish, that continues to remains murky. Just as Gemma’s mother Rose is a control freak from beyond the grave, so John’s postmortem hand continues to determine the history of the Sons.
• Gemma alternates between vulnerable and vicious in the household of her father, whose dementia makes him a bit of a loose cannon (just ask Tig).
• And most interestingly, the relationship between Clay and Jax is shifting; in fact, I began to wonder last night if their roles aren’t starting to reverse.

Last week, I talked about Jax’s quest, a la Michael Corleone, to go (kind of) legitimate with the MC, and his attempt to dethrone Clay in retribution for Donna’s death. Until the revelation of Gemma’s rape, which was brewing all season, Jax was always the one to counsel patience and strategy against Zobelle, and to reserve violence for last resort. But tonight, when we learned that the driveby was part of a patch-over for the Mayans, it was Clay who had to restrain Jax. It was Clay who recognized first that the Sons couldn’t afford another war, and it was Clay who let the Mayan initiate go – all while Jax was thirsting for blood. Not to say that Clay has gone soft – you don’t bury someone neckdeep and run motorcycles at him out of mercy; but he’s both recognizing the virtues of discretion, and calculatedly deploying Jax’s unhinged fury to give the Sons an edge against unfavorable odds. “I’m helping him through it,” he tells Bobby (who, “crazy red-headed rattlesnake” issues notwithstanding, is definitely emerging as the sagacious one of the group), but altruism is not all that’s going on in that relationship.

Much of this episode was occupied with setting pieces into place, especially in Belfast. The war with the Mayans that seemed ready to erupt during the standoff last season is still coming. And what should have been a resolution of the tautest suspense of the season – what the Irish would do when they learned that Edmond’s murder wasn’t Gemma’s doing – has quietly shifted into the worry that a very different dynamic might keep Abel in Belfast. Maureen  (great to see Paula Malcomson) looks to me very much like another woman in the show will not be dominated by the powerful men around her.  She might have a totally different agenda for wanting to keep Abel in Ireland.

There’s much more to say about this week, but much of it will need to play out over the next several episodes to truly appreciate its significance. I love seeing the (increasingly crowded) complexity of the outlaw MC world, and am ready to be a big fan of the Grim Bastards. Jacob’s mayoral schemes promise the troubles of SAMCRO in Charming itself are far from over. Tara sure is starting to dress in black a lot. And it’s pretty awesome for the show to keep its sense of humor – the visual gag of  Tig in a silk bathrobe, holding a bottle of baby oil (shudder), was pretty much worth the price of admission. So I’ll leave you with the thought of the kitschy figurines creeping out our favorite Harley-riding sexual deviant, back in the saddle again.

You love the right things

Sons of Anarchy: “So”

If I were, for some reason, trying to decide which network on TV is offering the best shows right now, after the perfunctory bow to HBO,  I would be hard pressed to decide between AMC and FX. Both have developed a clear style and “brand” – AMC, with its minimalist, patient, character-driven dramas (Mad Men, Breaking Bad, and [I gather] Rubicon); while FX has taken the tone and much of the alumni of the extraordinary The Shield and brought us Justified and Sons of Anarchy (not to mention the hilarious nihilism of Louie and It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia). These are dark, violent shows about morally compromised, but deeply complex, characters; and even more interestingly, they are some of most politically compelling shows on TV.

In the last several years, a new crop of what we might call “red state” shows have appeared which have slowly rewritten the bicoastal, urban presumption of locale that TV has tended to share with Hollywood; along with Justified, with its willfully anachronistic gunslinger in rural Kentucky, we could include Friday Night Lights, Breaking Bad, and Sons of Anarchy (perhaps True Blood, but its camp-Southern Gothic melange has its heart elsewhere, I think). The rules here are a bit loose, but what these shows share is a consistent tendency to portray settings in towns or cities far removed from the cosmopolitan cultural hubs of NYC, LA, or Chicago, and delve into the lives and communities of people who exist in an entirely different world from much of what we see onscreen. SoA does, of course, take place in California, but culturally it’s a million miles from Los Angeles, and like Breaking Bad or Sopranos, it examines communities formed on the basis of inherent contradictions; and its drama is propelled by characters’ attempts to hold families together when payment comes due for a way of life born of violence.

The irony and paradox of SoA is that SAMCRO, the club itself, is anything but anarchic. In the time-honored tradition of cinematic crime families, the clearly defined ethical and social norms of the club are strictly hierarchical,  fundamentally loyalty and honor-driven, and they carefully differentiate between those “in the game” and innocents (think of the immortal Omar from The Wire: “a man’s gotta have a code”). But from the first season, a slow rupture has been splitting the club; the explicitly Shakespearean first season portrayed Jax slowly working towards a different vision for the club then stepfather Clay, one more idealistic and coherent than Clay’s ruthlessly pragmatic gun-running. The most fascinating element of this was Jax’s discovery of his dead father’s journal; a picture has slowly emerged that his father realized from early on that the direction of the club could only lead to ruin, and that that realization cost him his life.

We’ve never really got a lot of backstory there, and the rift between Clay and Jax last season over the murder of Donna took a necessary back seat to presenting a unified front to Zobelle’s white supremacist threat. The fascinating dynamics of that season – SAMCRO’S “postracial” attempt to preserve the calm of Charming against Zobelle’s attempted takeover of the town drug trade – organized around the need to preserve the club. But, as the explosive finale last year revealed, the latent chaos the Sons harbor in their name is inescapable and we found Jax’s son kidnapped, Half-Sack dead, Gemma on the run – all while their enemy was soundly defeated.

By now, we know that this show, in the tradition of The Godfather, Sopranos, and Michael Mann’s amazing Heat, is at heart a show about family (which is why, last season, Clay could hurry home from blowing up a meth lab to make up with Gemma after a marital squabble, and why this bizarre juxtaposition made perfect sense), and like all of those shows, this means that its moral fabric, and character dynamic, are driven by its women. In Gemma and Tara, Katey Sagal and Maggie Siff  have created two incredibly compelling characters, both now fully committed to the club and to their men, Clay and Jax, and both now uncomfortably bound together by these commitments. So when we open this season with Clay and Gemma separated while Gemma is in hiding, and Jax and Tara watching their relationship fall apart after Abel’s kidnapping, we have the immediate sense that SAMCRO is at the verge of completely dissolving.

Tara’s decision last year to stay with Jax, and to take upon herself the moral compromise that meant in committing to the Sons, paid off last night: Jax, wild with grief, tried to push her away, only to have a fierce Tara refuse his attempt to self-destruct in isolation. On the other hand, Gemma’s increasing megalomania – her murder of Polly last season by self-appointed divine right – now finds her seeking comfort from her father. Gemma’s bizarre, and twisted, flirtation with religion last season isn’t over yet, it appears, since we now know she’s a preacher’s kid. This makes sense on so many levels – the dedication of the club to its ideal, its charter, its democractic process, all have the mythos of religion. If Gemma is anything to SAMCRO, she is something approaching a priestess.

The most promising part of last night’s amazing episode, to my mind, was the lingering shot of John Teller on SAMCRO’s hall of fame, and Jax’s visit to his grave – explicitly calling back to the last episode of season 1, when Jax started down a road somewhere between reform and insurrection. I’m hoping we get more of JT’s real vision for the club (the show has coasted on inspirational vagaries so far), his mysterious death, and Clay and Gemma’s role in his death. As the last shot of Jax beating the gunman into the pavement showed, his “love of the right things” is at stake this season as the club continues to be beset on all sides by the forces they themselves have unleashed. The choice of song – Richard Thompson’s “Dad’s Gonna Kill Me” – hints that revelations about Jax and his father – both his dead father and his adopted father – will be explosive; and it also suggests, ominously, that Abel’s life and well-being (with all the significance of his name) is very much at stake in whether or not Jax returns to his quest for something more enlightened for SAMCRO, or whether he takes Clay’s road of retribution.

What is certain is that it will be violent, bloody, and tragic. Hale’s death was a clear signal of this – I liked this character, and even if his attempt to end the alliance of the Charming police and SAMCRO was quixotic, so is the club’s presumption that they can keep Charming out of the line of fire. Donna, Sack, Abel, and the unnamed boy last night shot in the driveby: there’s always an innocent to take a bullet.

Travis