The Walking Dead “The Suicide King”: Put the Women in Charge [Review]
Is it wrong that I love the voice over that says “Now a new episode of The Walking Dead” a little too much? Something about the cadence and the timbre of the voice – plus he’s the lead-in to the action.
We return right where we left off – in the Governor’s twisted arena – just as quickly as the Dixon brothers were reunited, they are pitted against each other in a fight to the death urged on by the people of Woodbury. The scene is utterly horrifying – the mob mentality that has somehow forged the idea that forcing humans fight to the death is acceptable behaviour is one of the more disturbing situations we’ve witnessed in the series so far. The walkers that are introduced into the shuffle are little more than an afterthought, a symptom of the setting rather than an integral part of the horror.
The Walking Dead is at its best when it finds the drama and the horror in human behaviour (and balances the talking and the doing), when the zombie apocalypse is the backdrop and sometimes the catalyst for this behaviour rather than the primary driver of the action and shock value.
The zombie apocalypse setting has put an enormous amount of stress on our characters, losses keep mounting. Andrea, in a moment of clarity, points out that they don’t even have funerals anymore since death has become so frequent that it’s now almost an everyday affair. We see the stress of this environment in the growing unrest among the residents of Woodbury, the resignation in Hershel’s tone of voice, and the disconcerting coldness behind Carl’s eyes, but it is most strongly articulated in the unraveling of the paradigm of masculine leadership in the parallel collapse of Rick Grimes and still nameless Governor.
While the Governor is becoming increasingly cartoonish in his villainy (the eye-patch helps), egging on a fratricidal death match, stalking around town with his pistol out he is a man set on abstract revenge and self-destruction. The power he had over the town was keeping him whole and now the town is breached and his power is less than absolute. David Morrissey sells this completely and he is a terrifying sight but a man who is no longer in control, and perhaps needing to replace his moniker with something more suitable very soon.
In contrast, Andrea has kept her head, in what may once have been considered uncharacteristic for her she makes a rational logical decision. Now quite certain the Governor is not all what he seemed Andrea steps up. She combines the stereotypically feminine empathy with what amounts to a strong campaign speech backed with her recently acquired fighting acumen to put herself, perhaps unintentionally, in the position to usurp the Governor’s position as community leader.
Andrea is not the only woman I would put up for leadership. Over in the prison camp I nominate Maggie to take the lead. She is managing under the pressure better than most; she is skilled in combat and is able to navigate the tricky relationships and politics within the group and with outsiders. She has proven herself once and again that she is able to take on everything thrown her way and he is marvelous.
Rick’s downfall is decidedly less cartoonish than that of the Governor. Andrew Lincoln is absolutely knocking it out of the park with Rick as he barely keeps it together to escape Woodbury not even able to figure out a way to get Daryl to stay. Rick is tired and he is coming apart at the seams. His face is that of a man who is no longer in there, his eyes are hollow and so tired it seems he hasn’t slept since that day he woke up in the hospital, or at least since Lori’s death. The man who declared a dictatorship at the end of season two is no longer in there, and certainly has no place leading the group.
This man who begged onto Hershel’s land, into the CDC and is only alive because other people trusted him, and took him in is refusing to share. But it’s more than that; he’s unwilling, or more likely, unable to connect. To see another person is to know another person who will die and Rick is beyond processing that. When he is in charge he is responsible if he lets Tyreese and his group stay, but he is also responsible if he makes them leave. This is not a decision that should be put on Rick’s shoulders.
I say, let’s put the women in charge.
A few other notables:
- Glenn’s rage stomping of the walker was possibly the most emotionally poignant zombie slaughter ever. Even that sentence reads weird. All his rage, frustration and humiliation of his and Maggie’s kidnap and torture, anger towards the Governor, towards Merle – he wanted the Governor to pay for what he did to Maggie perhaps even more than himself. All that rage went into that zombie stomping.
- The tension between Glenn and Maggie hurts, when they are happy they are such a ray of sunshine in this desolate world. I hope they manage to sort through things soon.
- I’m pretty sure I heard the sound of a thousand fangirl hearts breaking when Daryl took off with Merle and off of our screens for the remainder of the episode
- What’s the timeline we’re putting on the red shirts of Tyreese’s group? One, two more episodes? They are the worst!
- It was a really nice moment when Carol gave us a little more insight into that mostly off screen connection she has with Daryl. They have the shared experience of surviving an abusive relationship; they were learning how to be an individual without that abuser in their lives together. It pains her to know Daryl went back to Merle but she understands.
- Rick’s dramatic breakdown that closed out the episode was acutely emotional and well executed (once again, let’s hand it to Andrew Lincoln – acting!, also the direction), though I hope the folks around him don’t put up with him as leader in this state for one more minute.
What did you think of “The Suicide King”?