Silo (2023) s01e07 – The Flamekeepers

Iain Glen’s back this episode, and, wow, I had forgotten his lousy accent. I think it activates Rebecca Ferguson’s worse accent instincts and suddenly she’s slipping.

Though it’s a great episode for Ferguson in terms of performance. Returning directors Bert & Bertie (thank goodness) put her through the paces without emphasizing it. Ferguson’s basically having a panic attack throughout the entire episode, visibly shaking (which sadly can’t cover the accent stuff). Her reunion with dad Glen starts awkward and then goes terribly, terribly wrong because it turns out Glen’s got a history with returning guest star Sophie Thompson, who Ferguson wants to interview.

Thompson was in the first episode—a hippie doula who consoled Rashida Jones right before Jones committed suicide—and I thought she had another appearance, maybe in the second episode, but otherwise, she’s been absent because she was arrested.

This episode, we find out she’s been in the “Silo” version of an old folks’ home, albeit one where they keep everyone doped up (why they don’t just kill people instead of giving them tranquilizers goes unaddressed). What’s particularly strange about the episode is the timing—it aired right around the time Apple announced their “don’t-call-it-VR” headset, and Thompson imagines she’s on a beach, and it looks like she’s seeing it fill out like in the headset. The images populate before her eyes.

It’s a terrible scene. Necessary because it will give Ferguson and Thompson a significant touchstone with the beach imagery, but it’s a hammering blow; the rest of the episode’s relatively muted, even the Glen reveals—which are substantial—and action-packed finale, the opening is still a little much. Visualizing drug-induced hallucinations will have to improve in the age of spatial computing.

In addition to Ferguson’s rocky bonding with Glen, then weathering all of Thompson’s truth bombs—not just about dad Glen, but also Ferguson’s mom, the actual way life works in the silo, on and on. But in the end, Ferguson figures something out—something the show didn’t do a great job establishing—and it’s a great scene. Perfect culmination for Ferguson in the episode, too, because she visits mayor Tim Robbins and judge Tanya Moodie, who clue her in on things she never knew about as far as the quid pro quo of success.

It’s really good stuff.

Less good stuff is Ferguson’s shoehorned romance with stargazer Avi Nash. Nash is charming enough, but—even with female authority figure characters and a woman credited with the script—it’s traditional boy pursues girl romance. It comes off weird, even with B&B directing—the arc removes agency from Ferguson and gives it to Nash, who doesn’t have anything to do with it.

Except get kissy.

Hopefully, they’ll figure out something to do with Nash, but whatever’s happening next—there are three more episodes—we’re probably in the final arc of the season and prepping for the big season finale cliffhanger.

Other than the Nash stumbles, excellent writing—credit to Jessica Blaire—including three or four big exposition dumps. Nice work from Robbins and Moodie, though it seems like they’re way more supporting than the show initially implied.

Thompson’s good, even though her wig’s distractingly bad.

And then Chinaza Uche. He’s great again, though again, mostly playing second fiddle to Ferguson. At least he’s still alive.

Though… three more episodes… “Silo” can get rid of six characters in three episodes, easy.

Can’t wait to see.

Silo (2023) s01e06 – The Relic

No one dies this episode of “Silo,” which be more of an improvement if the first quarter of the episode didn’t seem like a retread of last episode. New sheriff Rebecca Ferguson goes to see judge Tanya Moodie, who’s not feeling well, and lets Common do most of the talking at the meeting. Also going with Ferguson is her new (unwanted) deputy, Chinaza Uche, who was Common’s pick to be sheriff, but instead it’s Ferguson.

Uche gives Ferguson some tips for going to see Moodie, which makes no sense since she went to see Moodie at the end of the last episode. Something just feels off about it.

Not the direction—Bert & Bertie are hands down the best directors “Silo” has had, and they’re able to give Ferguson’s flashbacks with dead boyfriend Ferdinand Kingsley a level of gravitas “Silo” usually can’t reach. They still can’t get Ferguson’s accent in line (though Harriet Walter’s is gone now), and the weird accents make even less sense after the episode has a big reveal of where the silo is located on Earth.

Ferguson had the bright idea to plant evidence on Common’s dead colleague—who killed at least two of five (ish) dead people on the show—and let Uche uncover it. Despite Common wanting Uche for sheriff, Uche’s more than willing to back Ferguson up, but she doesn’t trust him enough to let him. Uche’s really good. I hope he lasts the season.

The investigation into the planted evidence leads Ferguson to guest star Sonita Henry (who’s also really good), a mystery woman from Kingsley’s past. Ferguson had no idea her dead boyfriend had an ex, much less an ex at the top of the silo, not to mention he apparently came from a (relatively) wealthy family. All the revelations make Ferguson rethink her recent decisions, which is the… second episode in a row she does so? Third? Fourth? The only thing more common than Ferguson thinking she should quit and hand the series over to someone else is that someone else getting murdered.

The bumpiness seems to be coming off the script, credit to Aric Avelino. It feels like it’s either supposed to be coming up after hiatus, or Avelino just didn’t see the last episode. Or maybe they changed how they were going to be edited.

It’s a solid episode—certainly better than the lows–, but it’s burned through the flashback goodwill (if it ever had any). It’d also be nice to have some more Tim Robbins. He pops in for a scene, has some fun, pops out. No one else gets to have any fun.

They’ve only four more episodes (to the season; presumably, the show is getting another), and they still haven’t sorted the stakes. How a show set in an underground silo has room to meander is beyond me, but they do.

Fingers crossed Bert & Bertie are back next time, and—no offense—Kingsley finally isn’t.

Persona (1966, Ingmar Bergman)

Persona begins with a series of unrelated, sometimes startling, sometimes disturbing images. It’s leader on the film reel, and it establishes the film’s narrative distance. We’re not just removed from the action; the action’s on display at multiple levels, including one involving a young boy, played by Jörgen Lindström, who provides bookends for the film.

He’s star Liv Ullmann’s son, but he’s never identified as such. Instead, he’s just the one with the most vested interest at the level.

Ullmann plays a famous theater and film actor who, all of a sudden, stops talking one night during a performance. It only lasts a minute, but the next day, she’s not talking at all, and she isn’t moving around either. She’s stopped expressing herself in any way, which lands her in the hospital, where she gets a full-time nurse to look after her. Bibi Andersson plays the nurse.

According to the doctor (a fantastic Margaretha Krook), Ullmann has nothing physically or mentally (though, sixties mentally) wrong. Andersson is patient and kind, trying to bond with Ullmann, who does react at times—like when Andersson starts reading her a letter from her husband—but there’s not much change.

The audience knows Ullmann is moving and reactive; we watch her watch Vietnam War news coverage in the middle of the night, recoiling in horror at the reality she finds herself in. The war footage calls back to the opening imagery; Ullmann’s experiencing and shutting herself away from the miserable world around her.

With no change as far as the medical staff can see, Krook decides it’d be best for Ullmann and Andersson to head out to her vacation house. Krook thinks she knows what’s going on with Ullmann; she’s just let the disconnect between apathy and empathy break her, and now she’s working through it, researching like an actor. The scene—Krook’s final one in the film and absolutely phenomenal—sets up two recurring themes. First, someone projecting their assumptions of Ullmann’s thoughts and feelings on a silent Ullmann. Second, the acting a part bit.

With the minor exceptions of the opening leader montage, the finale, and an act break—with the film “burning” to remind us we’re not on holiday with Ullmann and Andersson, we’re watching them far removed–Persona has a relatively standard epical arc with Andersson as the protagonist.

She gets this strange but not necessarily unpleasant assignment—Andersson goes into it assuming Ullmann wants to play a mind game with her companion, something Krook dissuades but informs Andersson later on—which turns into an extended holiday out at the beach. Andersson and Ullmann become pals, drinking wine, sunbathing, reading books, writing letters. It’s a holiday. Only Andersson does all the talking, though Ullmann does respond non-verbally to questions. So her condition’s changed a little, in relative line with Krook’s parting diagnosis.

Things change for the pair when Andersson gets super drunk and shares a very personal memory with Ullmann. Andersson becomes convinced Ullmann speaks to her briefly, then comes to visit her in the middle of the night. The next day, Ullmann’s again not talking and denies either event. Must’ve been drunk dreams.

When Andersson’s heading into town the next time for supplies, she takes the outgoing mail, including a letter from Ullmann to the doctor. Andersson can’t help but read the contents, which mainly concern her, with Ullmann making some very callous, mercenary observations. From then on, Andersson doesn’t think she can trust Ullmann but also finds herself becoming more and more wrapped in Ullmann’s “performance.” She just does it knowingly and often hatefully.

The film doesn’t show Ullmann speaking to Andersson when Andersson thinks she is speaking to her. It doesn’t expressively determine whether the middle-of-the-night visit is actual or dream. But it clearly shows Ullmann hurrying to finish the letter and leaving it unsealed for Andersson to take. Persona’s got all sorts of mysteries to it, but Ullmann’s never not an enigma. We get the two private moments with her, the Vietnam footage, then her looking at a photo from World War II showing the Nazis terrorizing civilians. The horror of the world is very much on Ullmann’s mind. But is it on her mind for actor’s fodder, or what’s underneath it?

Andersson becomes convinced Ullmann’s using her as an avatar: it’s not Andersson projecting on the unspeaking Ullmann; it’s Ullmann doing it the other way. Except, of course, it’d be a reflection of that projection, which leads to some fascinating scenes and performances. From the start—in no small part thanks to the opening sequence—Persona seems ready to submerge itself in the surreal, but Andersson and Ullmann’s performances are always firmly grounded. The confusion and hurt are always genuine.

Director Bergman’s got some phenomenal sequences, both directing and in the script. The script’s deliberate in presenting the pair’s evolving relationship, which scenes it shows, which it skips. The direction’s all about the performances, down to a sequence where we literally get to see it from each character’s perspective.

There are numerous second-half plot reveals—mostly about Ullmann’s husband, Gunnar Björnstrand, and son Lindström–and they’re perfect for deepening the existing character drama. At times, Persona is a character study; at times, it’s a psychological thriller; it’s always mesmerizing.

Whether Andersson or Ullmann’s better is probably a matter of personal preference and, of course, what a viewer’s projecting on the character and its actor. It’s a perpetually fascinating film.

Great black and white photography from Sven Nykvist, editing from Ulla Ryghe, music from Lars Johan Werle. Bibi Lindström’s production design is the third star after Ullmann and Andersson. Mago’s costumes are probably fourth.

Persona is an exhilarating, singular experience.

Every Secret Thing (2014, Amy Berg)

There’s a lot to say about Every Secret Thing and nothing to say about it. And some things can only easily be phrased as complimentary insults, like Rob Hardy’s photography is valuable because the movie’s an object lesson in how not to photograph a film.

Or how director Berg’s a great example of why a director needs to be able to work with their actors and know what’s good and what’s not. It would also help if Berg were better at the visuals, but directing the actors would’ve made a big difference.

Though maybe not Diane Lane. Lane’s a celluloid vampire here. She sucks the life out of every frame. Well, every byte; Thing’s shot on video, so maybe Hardy’s just inept on the format. Though if he told Berg they could shoot a dark room with visible daylight under the shades and say it was nighttime… well, that one’s still on him.

Or maybe say something about Robin Coudert's omnipresent and lousy music. Billy McMillin and Ron Patane’s editing is about the only competent technical, and they clearly were cutting together a mess.

Because once you get past the snide not-compliments, Every Secret Thinghas serious problems. A lot of the acting’s terrible, some of it because the direction’s terrible, some of it because Nicole Holofcener’s script is terrible. I’m sure not all of it is Holofcener’s adaptation (the movie’s from Laura Lippman’s novel) because the narrative trickery and manipulation are straight out of middling crime novels. And, you know, incredibly famous crime thrillers, making the whole thing very predictable as far as villains, with some very convenient details withheld until the third act.

The film’s about eighteen-year-olds Danielle Macdonald and Dakota Fanning; they’ve just gotten out of juvie for kidnapping and killing a baby when they were eleven. There are flashbacks peppered throughout the film to reveal more and more about that incident, but Macdonald protests her innocence while Fanning mopes.

Now, the film will treat Macdonald as suspicious because she’s fat; mom Lane bullies her about it, and Macdonald talks about it at length to other characters. And the movie is all about demonizing her; I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything do fatphobia as phrenology, but Every Secret Thing wants to be a pioneer.

Separate from that treatment of Macdonald’s character, the movie also has a lot to imply about interracial relationships between Black men and white women. There’s also a vice versa couple (Black lady, white man) around too, but the film’s distracted during those scenes because they can do a “poor people are classless” thing instead.

So, again, the best worst things about Every Secret Thing are technical incompetencies because they distract from the more problematic issues.

Anyway.

Another little girl goes missing, and the original baby’s mother goes to cops Elizabeth Banks and Nate Parker and says to investigate the recently released duo. Banks was the uniform cop who found the dead baby, and she’s still got PTSD. It’s not actually important because there’s no character development in the movie, just timed reveals. Because it’s terrible.

Who took the baby, and will the good guys get there in time. There’s inherent tension—especially since the parents, played by Sarah Sokolovic and Common, are very sympathetic. Common because everyone treats him like shit for being a Black guy, including Black cop Parker. The movie threatens to explore Parker’s hostility but thankfully does not.

Acting-wise, the best performance is… Banks. Kind of by default. Macdonald’s bad in a terrible part, Fanning’s not good in a terrible part, Lane’s “pull out the thesaurus” bad. Sokolovic and Common are better than the main cast, same with Parker. But, of course, it doesn’t help the flashback children actors—Brynne Norquist and Eva Grace Kellner—are lousy, and Berg has even less ability directing kids than adults.

For a second, it’s nice to see Julito McCullum (Namond, Wee-Bay’s kid on “The Wire”) in a tiny part, but then you realize he’s in this movie. Sure enough, Thing ruins it.

Because Every Secret Thing is faulty. Sometimes it’s worse than faulty, but it’s always faulty.

Moon Knight (2022) s01e04 – The Tomb

The Tomb opens with a surprisingly well-directed suspense sequence as May Calamawy tries to escape the bad guys. It’s even more surprising because Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead are directing this episode, and they were terrible on the last one they did. Eventually, the direction becomes a lot more middling—eventually being about five minutes—but for a while, at least “Moon Knight”’s disappointing in one fewer quadrant.

And this episode might be the best. There aren’t any lousy fight sequences, mainly because Oscar Isaac no longer has F. Murray Abraham possessing him, so he can’t do costume stuff. The moments where Calamawy and Isaac moon at each other (no pun) are more effective than I was expecting, especially since Calamawy’s got the hots for hapless Isaac’s personality, even though she married badass Isaac. We get some backstory on their courtship and badass Isaac’s motivations for seeking her out. It’s pat, forced material, whereas hapless Isaac infatuated with his literal alter ego’s wife is at least quirky.

Albeit boring, because it’s still “Moon Knight,” after all.

The episode’s about Isaac and Calamawy getting to the—you guessed it–Tomb level in this video game of a television show. There are actually not a lot of video game action sequences, except the one where Calamawy’s got to hop across ledges. There’s actually a lot of great Egyptian tomb production detail. The NPCs in this episode are zombies? We don’t get to see them, but they’re zombie Egyptian priests set to turn anyone living into a mummy, except Ethan Hawke and his mercenaries. It’s unclear if Hawke knows about the zombies and why they don’t bother him and his gang.

Hawke’s got a great villain monologue. The performance anyway. The content’s not good at all and leads to a pointless (“Moon Knight”’s keyword) scene between Calamawy and Isaac. But at the very least, Hawke’s reliable. Is he enough to make “Moon Knight” worth watching? Heck, no. But he’s excellent.

However, the show finally figures out a way to connect with the audience. It just has to pretend it’s something it hasn’t been in four and a half episodes, shucking everything it’s done until now to do a Twelve Monkeys rip-off. Even if the episode didn’t end on two strong points, one because of Parent Trap-like twins’ banter, one because of a sight gag, the Twelve Monkeys stuff would be the best the show’s ever been.

When the best you’ve ever been is the least you’ve ever been like yourself….

Also, there’s a really brief sequence of F. Murray Abraham’s statue being put in the prison with the other Egyptian gods turned into statues, and there are a whole lot of them. The Marvel Cinematic Universe version of Ancient Egypt looks very packed. Maybe they can do a Thor crossover, after all.

At this point, I’m guessing the only actual MCU connection will come in the last episode’s end credits, some giant shoehorn.

The next episode should at least be more engaging than usual. Unless they don’t deliver on their promises, which seems more likely the more I think about it, so I’ll stop.

Moon Knight (2022) s01e02 – Summon the Suit

For what felt like an eternity–Summon the Suit is forty-five boring but not poorly paced minutes—it seemed like someone making “Moon Knight” was doing it as a satire. A satire would cover Oscar Isaac’s silly (but not bad) lead performance; it would cover F. Murray Abraham’s comically obnoxious Egyptian god ghost, who Isaac finds out is basically possessing him. Villain Ethan Hawke, who’s stunningly good, is playing the part like it’s a satire; maybe it just seems like if they were trying for it, they could keep up with Hawke.

They don’t, obviously, because it’s not a satire. Directors Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead aren’t thoughtful enough to even hint at it. Eventually, the script, credited to Michael Kastelein, clarifies we’re supposed to be taking it seriously.

Too bad.

This episode has Isaac finding out about his other personality. They talk to each other through mirrors. Isaac also meets his alter ego’s estranged wife, May Calamawy, who is not a girlfriend’s head in a refrigerator (yet). However, I still doubt she will have a conversation with another woman, much less pass Bechdel. Calamawy is okay. As an actress, she’s sympathetic because she’s got a terrible part. It doesn’t make her performance any better, but she’s not a glaring misfire like Abraham.

Seriously, they should’ve just gotten Tom Hardy to Venom voice him. It’d be funnier (and Abraham’s played for jokes anyway). The CGI on the Egyptian god ghost is also wanting. This episode has him talking to Isaac, and it looks underdeveloped. They needed another pitch.

So Isaac Prime is the hapless British museum employee who thinks he has a mom who loves him. Mirror Isaac is an American mercenary turned costumed adventurer. Very much not Egyptian Abraham can grant them superpowers and the neat suit. There’s an action scene with Moon Knight fighting a demonic jackal (and he’s the only one who can see it), and it basically looks like a white-suited Batman movie, which was always the point. Bully for them.

Unfortunately, outside the middling Moon Knight action sequence, Benson and Moorhead’s action direction is less exciting than watching someone else watch someone else play a video game. Hapless Isaac doesn’t get to do action, so he just watches Calamawy do it. And since the show really doesn’t care at all about Calamawy’s experience of events, it’s all dramatically inert.

The way they contrive her into the episode isn’t even sixteenth-assed.

There are also zero Marvel Cinematic Universe connections, with Hapless Isaac seemingly unaware of superheroes. When he talks about something being exciting, he says it’s like MI-6 or Area 51, not, you know, a Marvel Earth where a bunch of space aliens invaded and temporarily zapped half the population. Or maybe it’s set in the past. Who cares.

Hawke nearly makes the show worth watching, and Isaac does have some fine acting moments (often opposite Hawke, which helps things). But “Moon Knight” is an exceptionally pointless, entirely pedestrian vehicle.

Around the World in 80 Days (2021) s01e07

After spending six full episodes ignoring the Black part of Ibrahim Koma’s Black Frenchman, this episode tackles and wrestles with the subject for most of the episode. Because they’re in the United States now and, what you’re not going to agree the United States, is really racist? Throughout the episode, it feels like “Around the World” is sticking up a superior European nose. The Klan leader John Light will say something, and it’s something in the modern United States both-siders political discourse and, well, no, show’s right.

This episode, our heroes are traveling by stage from San Francisco to Battle Mountain, Nevada, to catch a train. It’s a bumpy but uneventful ride—stage operator Elena Saurel flirts with David Tennant to Leonie Benesch and the audience’s amusement. Otherwise, they’re on track to make their train and make-up time.

Until first Black U.S. Marshall Bass Reeves (Gary Beadle) needs a ride on the stage with prisoner Light. Koma immediately takes to Beadle since he’s the first fellow Black person on the show since episode one and favors letting them join the plot. But, it’s simpler for Tennant and Benesch—Light’s polite and gentlemanly, what could be wrong with him.

Light, of course, assumes Tennant understands the world through Confederate values, whereas Tennant apparently knows and cares nothing of the U.S. political landscape. Even as Light tries to warn Tennant of Koma and Benesch’s tentatively romantic relationship, Tennant doesn’t get the hint. Koma, Benesch, and everyone else gets the hint, but Tennant can’t imagine thinking about such things.

It’ll eventually lead to a tense shootout in a saloon with lots of heroics and bonding for the good guys. The Southerners, besides aristocrat Light, are all toothless imbeciles. All the Westerners are moral cowards at best. I suppose the episode’s more Western than not, though Charles Beeson’s direction emphasizes character over action.

But does it successfully address how race and class intersect? No. Does it successfully reconcile how it avoided that topic all series? Also, no. I mean, Tennant’s too much of a good egg to really understand racism or even sincere jingoism, and it’s a downer conversation, so why dwell. Problematically, those sentiments are Koma’s in addition to the show’s. Anyway, they’re nearly out of America by the end of the episode, so chalk it up complete. It really does screw Koma over, emphasis-wise, however.

The episode itself is good. The character development for Tennant’s not sincere but successful within its constraints. Koma and Benesch’s flirtations at flirtations are good. Beadle, Light, and Samuel are probably the best examples of British actors playing Americans on non-American television in memory. I had to keep reminding myself they probably weren’t actually American.

The ending reveal cliffhanger does a nice job looping back to the beginning of the series, successfully focusing on Tennant’s quest instead of his privileged ignorance.

I sound more bearish on it than I “feel,” but maybe not more than the episode deserves; I wish British shows would take the subject of racism in the United States more seriously in their productions and not just vague sentiments.

Hawkeye (2021) s01e05 – Ronin

Okay, now I’m “worried.” They’ve only got one episode left, they just introduced the big bad, and it’s a surprise reveal for… streaming media rights disputes geeks (like myself), but otherwise, it’s just a Marvel property. I’d seen the rumors, and then this episode, there are some big hints, but it turns out the villain is someone Jeremy Renner knows, and there’s a big back story he hasn’t been telling anyone about.

And it sets up Alaqua Cox’s “Echo” spin-off for next year or whatever, but it does absolutely nothing for “Hawkeye,” which isn’t great since “Hawkeye” just got a lot fuller this episode. With only one more to go.

The episode opens with Florence Pugh’s post-Black Widow catch-up. Kind of like how Cox got one, but with more jokes, the Blip, and less actual content. Because Pugh’s catch-up is set before Widow’s end titles scene, then when Pugh’s in the actual episode proper, it was obviously shot a lot later.

Pugh’s only in the episode proper to hang out with Hailee Steinfeld, which is simultaneously wonderful and promises of excellent New Avengers interactions. Still, it’s also kind of rushed and shoehorned. There’s only one episode left; any further bonding with Pugh and Steinfeld clearly isn’t happening on “Hawkeye.” But Pugh reveals who hired her to kill Renner—it’s not actually her life’s goal since she thinks he killed ScarJo in Endgame. She’s just in it for the money (in this case, funneled from this series’s surprise villain in the cast to the cameo villain to Julia Louis-Dreyfus’s character from “Falcon and the Winter Soldier”). It kind of ruins Pugh’s motivations, but hopefully, they’ll somehow get her set for her next appearance in the one hour they have left.

This episode’s only forty minutes (nothing pads end titles like CGI credits and dubbing credits), so unless the next one is seventy, there’s going to be something lost in the shuffle. And it seems very much like it’s going to be Renner and Steinfeld’s relationship. They start the episode broken up but get back together after Steinfeld’s run-in with Pugh and Renner donning his ninja assassin outfit to threaten Cox and give her some information for the next episode and her spin-off.

Linda Cardellini appears for a phone call, but it’s not about family stuff; it’s hinting at more reveals. Potentially very cool reveals, just ones the show doesn’t seem to have time to address appropriately. Not when they’re doing double major twists in the last few minutes.

Otherwise, of course, it’s a pretty great episode. The fight scene between Renner and Cox is wanting in terms of choreography, but directors Bert & Bertie are very enthusiastic about the setting. There’s this weird disconnect where they’re clearly trying with shooting the fight but not the fight itself.

Larper, firefighter, and fun sidekick Clayton English is back for a bit. Enough time to showcase how he should’ve been in the show more, or they really should’ve gone eight episodes. Vera Farmiga and Tony Dalton both have good scenes; Fra Fee’s got a good scene—it’s Cox’s best episode too. Lots of good acting. Even when it’s silly like Renner talking to ScarJo beyond the grave (I mean, she doesn’t respond), which Renner nails, but the show hasn’t established and should have.

Steinfeld’s able to keep up with Pugh, who realizes the potential for the Russian super-assassin in the world of Marvel Superheroes like none other.

Some wonderful Christmas music choices, funny moments with the Tracksuit Mafia, and so on… but there’s so much to resolve and still keep it Steinfeld and Renner’s show. They seem more concerned about setting up spin-offs than completing this story.

Fingers, toes, and nose crossed they do right by Kate Bishop.

Hawkeye (2021) s01e04 – Partners, Am I Right?

It’s a shorter episode, but a lot is going on. Especially since it’s often a bridging episode setting up the rest of the season, which is only two more episodes, which is frankly terrifying given all they’ve got to do.

But more on that bit later (I’ve been thinking “Hawkeye” ran eight, not six, so I wasn’t thinking about it while watching).

The episode opens with a quick resolve of Tony Dalton discovering Jeremy Renner snooping around his apartment and quickly gets into an awkward introduction scene for Renner and Hailee Steinfeld’s family. Complete with Vera Farmiga being very suspicious (after asking Renner to finish his case without Steinfeld’s help). Then Renner immediately finds out Dalton’s laundering money for the Tracksuit Mafia. So lots of potential drama.

For later. Because then there’s this lovely scene with Steinfeld getting to see what mom Farmiga sees in Dalton, and it’s this touching Christmas family scene.

That touching Christmas family scene gives way to Steinfeld crashing Renner’s night—spent sitting around by himself covered in ice packs. He has a family phone call—Linda Cardellini gets her cameo—but then he’s sad and solo. Until new best friend Steinfeld arrives and they have a fun night.

The show’s doing a fantastic job with their character relationship, mixing in Renner’s Black Widow-related regrets (though not missing the solo movie), and setting up an echo—no pun intended—for later in the episode. It’s a pronounced echo, but a very good one.

After some amusing scenes with Renner threatening bad guy Fra Fee and Steinfeld hanging out with the larpers from before (and introducing something for later), they’re back on assignment. There’s a Rolex MacGuffin from Avengers mansion—sorry, sorry, Avengers tower—which could give away the location of a hidden Avenger or something. It’s going to be one of the later reveals, which they only have two episodes for.

There are also two more reveals coming up for Renner because it turns out villain Alaqua Cox is stalking his family, and there’s a very special guest star hunting him down on the rooftops. On Steinfeld’s side, the hard truths about Farmiga and Dalton are coming up. I don’t think she’s got anything else outstanding.

So they’ve got four to six plot threads to resolve—let’s not forget Renner’s still got to make it home for Christmas—in two episodes. I really hope they pull it off.

Very nice work from Steinfeld and Renner this episode. Since Farmiga and Dalton are suspicious more than anything else, there’s only so much they can do. If it ends well, “Hawkeye”’s going to rewatch spectacularly. Especially as a Christmas-time binge watch. If they don’t at least make it a great Christmas story….

The big fight scene is the only thing wrong with the episode—outside it potentially setting up the series to stumble. It’s a complicated New York rooftop fight, full of laughs and action, and directors Bert & Bertie do a fine job shooting it… but they don’t care at all about the fight choreography. Yes, “Hawkeye”’s a show about archers and arrows, but if they’re going to do fisticuffs, make the fisticuffs interesting to look at. Unfortunately, it’s almost like they’re doing an anti-Netflix Marvel show with their aversion to good fight choreography.

I really hope they pull this one off. Steinfeld and Renner deserve it.

As do Kate Bishop fans.

Hawkeye (2021) s01e03 – Echoes

This episode has some real highlights, including a great New York action sequence, but the most impressive one has got to be the comic book talking heads sequence. Jeremy Renner and Hailee Steinfeld are sitting and talking to each other. They’re staring almost directly into the camera in one-shot close-ups, and they just have a conversation. Back and forth, back and forth, just like a Marvel Comics talking heads sequence. It’s pretty awesome and made me think Rhys Thomas really loved the comics.

Except Thomas didn’t direct this episode, it was Bert & Bertie, so I guess Bert & Bertie really grok the talking heads formula.

The New York action sequence has Renner and Steinfeld doing a car chase with bows, arrows, and bridges. Not a great car chase, but focusing on Steinfeld’s archery—Renner finally lets her use some of his trick arrows, though he keeps the best one for himself—it’s really distinct for the show. Especially since the episode opens with Alaqua Cox’s villain origin story and feels like they will spend the whole episode on her.

We find out she had to go to public school instead of deaf school because dad Zahn McClarnon couldn’t afford it. It lessens the impact when we later find out McClarnon ran the Tracksuit Mafia and was an actual bad guy. Still, the opening with young Cox (played by Darnell Besaw) and McClarnon plays sympathetic and wonderful. She then trains in martial arts from a young age to be a crime lord to numbskulls when she grows up.

“Hawkeye”’s oddly lethal. Like, for a while, all the stuff with the Tracksuit Mafia is non-lethal because they’re jackasses. Steinfeld has a funny interchange with one of them about his relationship troubles, and Cox doesn’t want the heroes killed, so there’s never any real danger. Until all of a sudden, there’s real danger, except the bad guys are mostly boobs, so Steinfeld and Renner can kick ass. Lethally. No dead bodies, but it’s the Batman Returns logic of “you blow someone up, they don’t survive.”

With Cox’s origin story, the beginning really feels like a Marvel Netflix show. Like they’re going to do a whole episode setting her up. They don’t, but it’s an effective prologue.

And there’s a bunch of juxtapositions between Cox and the heroes. Cox has been deaf since at least childhood, if not birth, and Renner’s now got hearing loss. Cox is a childhood martial arts star, Steinfeld’s a childhood martial arts star; Cox has daddy issues, Steinfeld has daddy issues. The Steinfeld analogs don’t get explored here, but Cox and Renner both having hearing loss is a plot point.

Some terrific acting from Steinfeld and very sturdy work from Renner. They really should’ve done the MCU Dad thing with him from go. He and Steinfeld’s mentor and protege relationship gets some nice development here, altogether avoiding the surrogate dad stuff, which is awesome.

Cox is good; Fra Fee’s solid as her sidekick (the only other polysyllabic Tracksuit).

The cliffhanger’s wanting—another comparison to Marvel Netflix, it’s set up for an immediate, binge watch resolution—and makes the episode feel too short, especially since they very obviously tease a reveal villain for later on. But “Hawkeye”’s the real deal. And the Christmas in New York setting just keeps paying off, this episode seemingly doing a Lethal Weapon homage.

Also—the Tracksuit Mafia’s headquarters is an old KB Toys. The branding’s so obvious you’d think there was a tie-in or Disney owned them, but no, it’s apparently just a KB Toys.