Escapist Routes #38

Team, lemme tell you, tonsillitis? Zero stars. Do not recommend. It has been eight days, and I finally bit the bullet, conceded that it might be bacterial instead of viral, and filled the prescription for antibiotics that my doctor told me was a last resort.

It could be that my aim of single-handedly preventing the development of antibiotic-resistant strains of diseases is a case of individual action over collective, but let’s talk about it when my lymph nodes aren’t swollen.

Instead, settle down on the couch with a blanket and a cup of TV, and join me in watching some television. I bet the Pluribus hive mind don’t have to deal with tonsillitis.

Death by Lightning

Last year, I read Candice Millard’s Destiny of the Republic: A Tale of Madness, Medicine and the Murder of a President, an account of the assassination of James Garfield by Charles Guiteau.

I keep a wanky reading journal, because it’s the sort of thing that makes me happy, and in it, I wrote, “Interesting topic told in a boring way. Skimmed a lot.”

As I told my flatmate while we watched Death by Lightning, the four-episode Netflix adaptation, there wasn’t really enough story to justify the length of the book.

There also isn’t enough story to justify a four-episode limited drama. This could have been a ninety-minute-to-two-hour feature film.

Part of the problem is that Charles Guiteau is a familiar type of man, but not interesting enough to carry the story. As depicted by Matthew McFadyen (a master at playing the sort of awkward man who makes everyone around him uncomfortable), he may have some sort of undefined mental illness — bipolar disorder, perhaps — but he is also a 19th century Reply Guy. He just can’t stop posting. In an age before Twitter, he founds newspapers and gives speeches, and more than anything else, wants Elon Musk the President to notice him.

The problem is that this is absolutely clear by the end of episode 1, and after that, it’s just a matter of increasingly repetitive Scenes Where Guiteau Is A Pathetic Grifter until he finally turns on Garfield and buys a gun.

Garfield (Michael Shannon) himself is much more interesting, as he accidentally gets nominated to the presidency on a platform of ending cronyism and nepotism in the public service, is saddled with a running mate who is entirely bound up in machine politics, wins, and then finds himself dealing with a civil war within his own party. I do think there should be a moratorium on Bradley Whitford playing any sort of political mover and/or shaker, but he’s excellent as pragmatic Secretary of State James Blaine.

But the whole show is stolen by Nick Offerman as Chester Arthur, depicted as a former idealist who sold his soul to machine politics, and who undergoes something of a redemption purely because Garfield believes he is still capable of good.

This is a political drama set in the 1880s, so obviously the roles of women are smaller and less central, although I think Death by Lightning does a good job of keeping Lucretia Garfield (Betty Gilpin, who deserves more than dimly-lit Netflix historicals) close to the centre of the action. Paula Malcolmson is wasted as Guiteau’s long-suffering sister, who is more or less The Character Paula Malcolmson Always Plays.

In short, Death by Lighting: 

• great politicking

• the Republican convention scenes have Conclave vibes

• not a single bad performance

• solid beard acting all around

• but there’s not enough there there

• I dunno maybe you can’t actually get a four-episode drama out of the forgotten and/or mediocre presidents of the late 19th century

• let’s all take a quiet minute to appreciate antibiotics and doctors who wash their hands and don’t stick random bits of unsterilised metal into wounds

Down Cemetery Road, season 1, episode 6

Sarah and Zoe are reunited! But not before we get to the best sequence in the series so far: Amos pursuing Zoe through the overnight train to Scotland.

I wanna take a moment to shout out Fehinti Balogun as Amos — Balogun is best known for roles like “Male Fremen” in Dune, but he is absolutely compelling in this show. I had Opinions, in the first couple of episodes, about how the series was using Black men as signifiers of domestic invasion and fear, and frankly I think it could have made some different choices. But Downey and Amos are, by this point, two very different, very layered characters, and I appreciate that.

Is it a bit convenient that Sarah just happens to be in the pub to overhear Zoe being named as a suspect in Amos’s shooting of the Nice Americans? Yes. Equally convenient that this happens at the same time as she’s figuring out that there’s an island in the local archipelago which doesn’t appear on tourist maps. One of the problems with a character like Sarah is that, lacking skills to actively advance the plot, a lot of her contributions come down to being in the right place at the right time.

But she also throws a tantrum to get a puffin tour and then hijacks the tour boat. Which is relatable. Not the hijacking, but the puffin tour. I will actually die if I don’t get to swim with a puffin. I wonder how many subscribers it would take to make it worth monetising this newsletter, and then how many years and how much television it would take to fund a wee trip to Wales.

ANYWAY. Everyone’s off to Scotland, and specifically off to the mysterious island; this is not Squid Game so I assume we won’t then spend multiple episodes sailing around trying to find it. The endgame looms.

Pluribus, season 1, episode 4

This is how much I have come to love Carol Sturka: she drugged and nearly killed Zosia, and YET I think the Hive Mind are being passive-aggressive assholes for how they are treating her.

I mean. They are being passive-aggressive assholes. They could deal with Carol by confining her to her home, or putting her in one of the now-empty prisons, or even simply refuse to give her free access to the entire world and all the drugs she asks for. Instead, they are simply … withdrawing. In the most passive-aggressive way possible: “Our feelings for you haven’t changed, Carol. But after everything that’s happened, we just need a little space.”

I actually have this theory that the Hive has been manipulating Carol (and the other individuals, save for Paraguay Guy) (Paraguy?) all along. Take the empty supermarket, which is refilled within minutes of Carol’s request. Were all those trucks just waiting a few blocks away, knowing they would be called back? (I actually have a lot of questions about supply chains in this new world, and I am delighted that they are being answered.)

So first they’re overbearing, then they withdraw—but not before Laxmi calls Carol to yell at her for making her son cry. Which is a different type of manipulation! Now, how much of this is intentional and conscious on the part of the Hive, versus how much is instinct, remains to be seen, but I do not trust these people.

I also do not trust the coyotes. But that just might be me, living in a place where such animals don’t exist? Australia has dingos, but they’re solitary, and we work hard to keep them away from human settlements on account of that time one stole a baby. Is it … normal for coyotes to work in groups like that? It seemed coordinated, the way they went for Helen’s grave. I don’t care for it.

Here are two links worth reading from the first couple of episodes: Carol as the embodiment of US hegemony and a critique of the depiction of the other survivors. I think it’s too soon to say whether these were intentional creative decisions, or careless stereotyping — from which no writer, no matter how talented, is immune.