Legion: Season Two Finale Review


Spoilers ahead:

In the final moments of Legion chapter 19, after the final scene, as the credits come to an end, the vocals in the song playing us out eerily proclaim, “this is not real.” A fitting statement to top off the more relevant than ever theme of the show, and this particular episode; sanity, right and wrong, good and evil are all a matter of  perspective. As this episode so eloquently puts it, maybe we’re all the “fools on an endless sea, pretending to be normal.”

Gone are the simple days of season one where a more black and white narrative gave us a straight forward ride; guy falls for girl, evil thing inside guy keeps guy from being with girl, guy overcomes evil thing, guy and girl live happily ever after. Now, one season later, the morality of our main players is muddled in complete grey.

The best example of these blurred lines are in the former lovers, now turned enemies, David and Syd. “David, you drugged me and had sex with me.” These are some hard hitting words that really display the sadistic move David pulled. It’s more than reasonable that Syd and the rest of Division 3 would immediately react by attempting to jail David. Not to mention that they all now know David’s destiny to become ‘Legion: The World Breaker.’ Combine that with Syd getting lectured by Farouk disguised as Melanie about David’s lies last episode and it’s easy to see David as the monster he may actually be.

From David’s perspective, however, he’s a victim of circumstance. The episode starts with the woman he loves pulling a gun on him and attempting to murder him. David’s reaction to “love drugging” her, as wrong as it may be, was a desperate response to try and maintain quite possibly the last thing holding his sanity together; his relationship with Syd. Shooting David was the ultimate betrayal in his mind, just as his mental manipulation was the ultimate betrayal in Syd’s. The final nail in the coffin for David comes when Syd and friends suggest a return to “David the zombie,” to tranquilize and suppress him, just as he was in the mental hospital. It’s more than understandable that this would be the last straw for David, and his final words for his new captors couldn’t be more equally fitting and cryptic, “Alright, I’m done. You had your chance.”

It’s also worth noting Division 3’s all encompassing supervision that seems to have no limit in site. The surrounding world of Legion has always been shrouded in alluring mystery. What year is it? What’s going on socially and politically in this world? Admiral Fukyama as the eye in the sky seems to have all kinds of power with no check. He is able to snoop in on Syd as she’s being taken advantage of, while Cary is able to ‘science’ his way into literally recreating events on a screen. And this is enough evidence to cage David within one day, no trial to speak of. The lack of authority that allows Division 3 to become judge, jury and executioner adds even more to the moral haze of this weird reality.

The start of the episode sees yet another fantastic and strange portrayal of a battle between Farouk and David. Later, we are given an unexpectedly tender moment between the two rivals. In a way, Farouk, in his most defeated and vulnerable state, manages to gain an upper hand on David by relating with him like a father would. He tells David he’s known him since he was a baby and tried to make David love him, but never could. But this isn’t more mental manipulation on Farouk’s part, he sheds an actual tear in the final shot of the scene.

The ending leaves us with a great setup for a third season. The narrative has now been completely flipped on its head, David is the ‘monster’ that needs to be stopped, while Farouk and Division 3 will work together to bring him down. Are we in for a Breaking Bad-esque overarching narrative for this series, where we watch the ‘hero’ descends into a full fledged ‘villain’ by the end of the show? Vince Gilligan was famously vocal about his plans for Walter White in his show, but Noah Hawley has kept decidedly mum on his long term narrative plans. Whatever the case, a rouge David, along with his twisted new mind friends and Lenny by his side should have us all salivating to see where this bizarre show takes us next.




It Comes at Night: Preserving Family, at all Cost


Spoilers ahead:

There are horror movies, like The Belko Experiment, that examine just how quickly a state of paranoia and desperation can turn people against one another for survival. On the other hand, some horror movies, like A Quiet Place, examine the concept of family and the many hurtles that challenge the preservation of that familial bond. It Comes at Night is the twisted median between the two, and it makes for one hell of a disturbing ride.

At the start of the movie, we are introduced to the main character, Paul, who has secluded himself, his wife Sarah and son Travis, in a boarded up house deep in the woods. Apparently, a sort of apocalypse has hit, and people are dying from a gruesome disease. Complete isolation is key to survival for this family. But there is an even deeper psychological isolation the three characters have inhabited as a result of the unseen catastrophe that uprooted their lives.

Paul is just trying to keep his family alive, no matter what. The opening scene sees Paul mercy killing his infected father-in-law in front of Travis. The idea is to teach Travis the ugly necessities to survive their new post-apocalyptic reality, but the nonchalant attitude Paul takes while offing his son’s grandfather in front of him is what makes for a truly chilling moment. We may as well be watching a father teaching his son how to fish. Needless to say, this experience mind fucks young Travis. There is no affection with this family, barely even a smile between them. They’re staying alive, but they’re miserable.

Change takes place when the juxtaposing family of Will, his wife Kim, and son Andrew shack up with Paul and his family. Will’s family get to have their cake and eat it too in comparison to Paul’s. They’ve secluded themselves and taken the proper precautions to survive, but not at the sacrifice of their zest for life and warmth for each other. Not even the decimation of their old lives can break their bond. As time passes, it seems as though this new family’s sentiment is infecting a positivity within Paul’s family. Will teaches Travis how to chop wood, and keep a smile while doing it. Sarah even begins to rekindle a sentimental connection with her husband they haven’t shared for ages. It almost seems as though Will and his family moving in with Paul and his was the best thing to happen for the both of them. Almost.

After some peppered in nuggets of paranoia to set the third act stage, we get to the true horror of the story. Paul’s worst nightmare of letting strangers into his home comes true when the idea that little Andrew may be infected after a night of sleep walking. Watching this moment play out from an objective perspective is beyond frustrating. Both families want the exact same thing, and by the time Will gets the jump on Paul, it seems both parties can be left with an equal amount of resources to go their separate ways. Once Kim steps out of the room, sporting a shotgun, everything goes to hell.

It is here we find that the true apocalypse is not the pandemic occurring in the outskirts of the main narrative, it is the insanity manifested by the slightest of fears. Paul won’t take any chance of harm coming to his family, and his almost hypocritical human response is genuinely disturbing to witness. At this point, it’s not even clear if Andrew is infected or not, but Paul is too far gone, and after Sarah has already fatally shot Will in the hysteria, Paul does the unthinkable and wildly fires at Kim and Andrew as they run for their lives. The bullet kills Andrew instantly. The camera lingers on Paul, and as Kim’s chilling screams pierce the silence, it seems Paul may finally break down in disgust of what he and his family have become. Instead he buckles up and shoots Kim dead.

The great irony occurs moments later when Travis is revealed to be infected. This mad, climactic frenzy was all for nothing. The tension loosens, the movie eases to a calming pace and we finally see Paul break down in tears, alone, as he downs a bottle of whiskey he once shared with Will shortly before distrust took a snowball effect. The final shot is of Paul and Sarah sitting across from each other, both infected, awaiting the same cruel fate as the rest of their family.

Most movies rooted in the theme of family share the notion of preserving an innate connection and taking whatever steps necessary to preserve unity. It Comes at Night is one of the few that challenges that trope, and steeps us in the monstrosities that can occur from tribal preservation. We can recognize and respect Paul’s intense drive to keep his family alive, but at what point does his isolation from all outside sources turn into irrational fear? Will and his family aren’t as visibly cautious and vigilant over impending doom, they are simply thankful to still be alive and together. They want to make the life they have count. This raises some serious red flags from Paul’s perspective. He can’t help but feel skeptical of this other father’s approach to his family’s security. Will and Paul have the same instinct to safeguard their families, but it is this inherent attribute that leads to the downfall of all they hold sacred.

Infinity War: Subverting Expectations


Spoilers ahead:

When I first saw Avengers: Infinity War, I felt it was missing a little something I was conditioned to getting from an Avengers movie. I just didn’t feel engulfed by any moment of adrenaline fueled spectacle like I was with the first or even second movie. However, when watching it for a second, or third, or fourth viewing (yeah, I’m that kind of fan) I was able to appreciate just how this movie subverted my expectations from what I thought was an essential ingredient. Infinity War takes what I wanted or expected to be an uplifting, supercharged moment of pure YES, and instead gave me a swift, ice cold kick to the face…and I think as fans, we all needed it, and that’s what makes it great.

From the opening scene, actually, from the first trailer Thanos practically breaks the fourth wall to tell us, “you will know what it’s like to lose.” And yet, even when that’s telegraphed to us so literally, we don’t buy it. Thanos may as well have leaned out of frame, picked us up by our throats Loki style and telegraphed the ending to us. But we’ve been so conditioned by every marvel movie, hell, every superhero movie, that the heroes will win. No matter how high the stakes get, the hero or heroes will always pull out on top in some form or another. And that form always take shape in the most dazzling, comic booky way possible.

Before Infinity War, ever since the first Avengers movie, it almost felt like protocol to have that iconic shot of all the heroes coming together to take down the big bad and his army of thugs by the third act. Every fan remembers the feeling of watching that iconic shot of the founding Avengers team standing their ground, together in full superhero fashion for the first time ever as the camera pans around the heroes while Alan Silvestri’s triumphant score roars through the speakers. That scene, and by extension, the rest of the epic third act battle for New York, is what made audiences around the world one with their inner child. The second Avengers, whether you liked the movie or not, continued that momentum by delivering an equally epic third act moment as the team circles up to take on a horde of Ultron bots, rendered in beautiful slow motion to boot. Even Captain America: Civil War (which, let’s face it, is an Avengers flick in every way other than title) delivers an equally, slightly subversive, sequence of the team coming together to face off against each in that unforgettable airport battle sequence.

So, when Infinity War came out, we were primed as an audience to expect a fresh, but equally spellbinding third act team up spectacle. Not to mention that it would feature the most Marvel characters ever in a movie together. It was going to be bonkers. By the time we get to the third act, we’re at the battle of Wakanda and we know it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the Avengers join in on the fun to deliver what we all need. Then Thor shows up with Rocket and Groot in tow and now the pieces are falling in place. The battle tide is turning, and soon enough the rest of the Avengers, along with the guardians of the galaxy, will join in to deliver what we are salivating for at this point, a legendary one shot of all the main MCU players causing mayhem. But then Thanos arrives, and we watch as the mad tyrant mops the floor with the Avengers one by one. Even Thor and his new tool of destruction aren’t enough to stop it. The snap. And suddenly we’re given the exact opposite of what we were trained to want. And much like the lucky (or not so lucky) survivors of the incident, we’re now watching in horror as half our heroes are reduced to ash. No epic gathering. No roaring Alan Silvestri score. Just an unsettling silence as we revel in the failure of our heroes. Shock spreads through the audience. It’s not what we wanted, but it’s what we needed.