Lineage

(1,153-word review) Compared to the first season, this one's scope was easily greater. It was noticeably scaled up, having detectable similarities you can put side-to-side with action films – the genre component we got previously came across as a character-driven, mystery-solving adventure that was set in a small, out-of-the-way town of a typically expected uniqueness. There wasn't this overarching sense of the first season being similar to watching an action film.

This time, the stylistic impressions that felt present and conveyed throughout the season, in and of itself, and its relation to the main plot, seemingly emitted dust particles from the same ballpark as the action genre, or it was at least adjacent to it. Though, in some ways, the totality of this season got somewhat dragged down by that. Taking things up a notch was either too large of an undertaking or the increased difficulty of doing such a thing proved to be that exact, tough undertaking. It felt like the writers came short of fully mastering the execution – it was lacking due to the slightly negative impact from that, diminishing the prospect of overall effectiveness being pinpointed and condensed for maximum efficiency, which led to a weaker, more spread-out effect on the way it was presented to us: the manner of which everything flowed and progressed.

You can also float the idea of accuracy to the source material, as I've read how Lee Child's novels can sometimes feel all over the place regarding the broader scope due to him supposedly writing them as he goes along, from beginning to end – page to page, page by page. That means they usually have odd pacing and fluctuating stories/underlying tones: feeling one way at a particular point, then jumping to a completely different feeling – coming across as all sorts of things at different points within the story without any steadfast commitment to an individual thing. As you can imagine, "unnecessary"/convoluted layers can surface from that, coming with avoidable confusion and slight overwhelmingness.

He doesn't have everything mapped/planned out before hopping into the writing process of this novel series, and honestly, in a manner of speaking, that's an intriguing, possibly fruitful (in an out-of-the-box fashion, of course – the result/final product can be oddly captivating in ways you wouldn't have expected because of the untethered-from-tradition, unconventional creative mindset) way of going about creating fictional stories – a written body of work of such by somebody like Lee Child.

That reminds me about something Nicolas Winding Refn said in an interview revolving around Too Old to Die Young (a phenomenal miniseries – the only series/film of his I've seen so far, besides Bronson, which I need to rewatch expeditiously, but I need to get around to watching some of his "iconic," well-known films like Valhalla Rising, Drive, Only God Forgives, in addition to his other films, as well) boiling down to you having the option to watch the episodes however you'd like – out of order, from end to beginning, or some other pattern, and still be able to follow along. He has a mastery over that type of creative thinking, and perhaps Lee Child does, too. But this is an adaptation, not the novel, or any of his novels.

And the execution of that aspect, whether intended to be adhered to or ended up manifesting itself in a similar but different fashion, was lacking. But maybe it feels lacking in the novel, too. I don't know. I've never read it. I do think scaling down the size and scope of the plot in the next season, even if it goes against the potential reality of it being a similarly large-in-scope story in the original version, would likely be more beneficial for the sake of this TV adaptation medium.

On a more positive note, the chemistry between the cast members was excellent, and it translated well to the characters. It was looking a little iffy, momentarily at the start there, regarding if they'd successfully rival the chemistry the trio of Reacher (Alan Ritchson), Oscar Finlay (Malcolm Goodwin), and Roscoe Conklin (Willa Fitzgerald) had, especially those two supporting characters themselves. I'm very pleased that aspect of this season was just as palpable.

Reacher's ensemble this time around, consisting of members from his old army unit, felt comparable to the stars-aligned, picture-perfect execution of Finlay and Roscoe's characters, in addition to how well/similarly their characterizations and the acting performances flowed with Reacher/Alan Ritchson – though the progressive journey to FEELING that connection/bond instead of only knowing the intention behind what the writers were attempting to properly convey didn't fully cement itself within MY mind until the finale.

I wasn't consciously aware of the subtle but slow-paced success of that intention on me – especially the extent of my investment in them – because the cementation was taking slowly enough to where it seemed like it wouldn't solidify before the conclusion. The at-long-last, awaited connection to their connection did come out of nowhere, given its arrival was long overdue. It would've been preferable to have obtained that earlier in the season, but I suppose it's possible my brain, how it works, and how I view things are more at fault than the writers.

Lastly, the brutality/gore element, generally and within the fight sequences, felt turned up a notch compared to the extent we got back in Margrave for some reason. And I say that because, while, yes, it WAS enjoyable, it's also odd: there was still a notably high level of gore there that the writers/directors didn't shy away from. I'd even go as far as to say the first season was gorier, contrary to the opposite sentiment that I've been seeing many people express. For this one to FEEL like it went further – that's nothing short of odd. The finer details behind such a peculiarity could, perhaps, revolve around general gore (visually) vs. brutality (depicted through the fight sequences and of a deeper, viscerally reactive nature, e.g. bone breaks) – the latter being the category at play here.

Overall, this season had a serviceable start: the beginning was good, and there was a gradual increase in enjoyment and engagement for a quick moment, while the presentation's quality was at a decent enough level. Soon after, though, there was a noticeable downward dip in those qualities, occurring around the middle of the season. It wasn't to the degree of significantly weakening the totality of it, possibly in the form of making things super uninteresting, but it did somewhat throw a wrench into the works. The flow of everything was hindered and interrupted, which subtly broke some of the engagement. We can chalk it off to a minor setback/bump in an otherwise sufficiently enjoyable journey, especially because the penultimate episode served as an on-the-house meal of appreciatory redemption, topped with an even better finale – a satisfying, heartwarming conclusion to a sporadically underwhelming-to-acceptable season, while conceivably being the overall high point.

(1,362-word review) I'm relieved that Dixon and O'Donnell are officially okay – they're survivors; they're free from being unavailable for possible returns due to either or both dying in this finale. As I mentioned in my review of the seventh episode, I had/have unexpectedly come to care about those two characters. I'm particularly relieved because that means they can be ushered back in at some point. Part of me feels like neither of them will return in the third season (maybe not even Neagley, either; the way her last scene went with Reacher at the end felt final concerning the prospect of seeing her again), but you never know. I'd welcome and greatly appreciate Dixon, O'Donnell, and her coming back into the equation cool-montage style. At least one or two of them – either in the next season or potentially (hopefully, the show receives another renewal, and we get it) fourth season.

I may have read something from someone elsewhere on the internet that specified or implied that Neagley isn't in Persuader, the seventh installment in the novel series – the novel that the third season will be adapting. But I'm pretty sure she wasn't in Bad Luck and Trouble, either, and that was the adapted material here. Her exchange of goodbyes with Reacher felt like a proper, "I won't be brought back for your next adventure" inference. Conversely, there will likely be a time skip mentioned at the start, as was the case in this season's first episode regarding the events in Margrave, which is a way to still bring her back while also saying a decent amount of time has passed since she's been involved with him/whatever he's got going on.

The action sequences, specifically the one after Senator Lavoy's three-man-operator team breached New Age's R&D facility building and Reacher freed himself, came across as well-filmed – enough to stand out to someone like myself, who's barely knowledgeable (if at all) about any aspect of filmmaking; that particular thought never crossed my mind before until now. I, for the most part, mindlessly absorb what's in front of me without seeing the finer details regarding how a scene is shot, and so on. That sort of thing escapes me because I have no professionally-obtained, educational background or comprehension of anything remotely similar – or anything at all in a general sense – let alone any varying levels of understanding that anyone could theoretically obtain themselves in a self-taught manner.

Nevertheless, something about that specific section seemed well-filmed: the camera angles and such. There was a strong feeling of flowing smoothness to how it (and possibly additional sections of other action sequences) was filmed. The director, Julian Holmes, took his job seriously and went all in on proficiency. Based on his IMDb page, his résumé is pretty decent.

And the scene, from the lead-up to the explosive climax, of Neagley using the missile with the Little Wing chip to shoot down the helicopter was great – and cool; we can't forget that part. Moments like that (where a character or multiple characters are cool-headed while doing effortlessly cool things), no matter the film or TV show, will always be entertaining to watch.

There were a couple other specific moments that were excellent, too, serving as efficient additions to the effectiveness of this finale, both concerning the "cool factor" and emotionally: the delightfully spectacular, execution-by-firing-squad death of A.M. (though his character was underdeveloped and underutilized, despite the peculiar character trait of saying the same line about comic books to kids, and the incorrect expectation that the build up of his character would have a non-anticlimactic payoff – perhaps his role in the novel had more depth and focus) and the dispersion of the $65 million to the families of those who are dead, related entities (the animal shelter), and to the other team members (Neagley – providing the round-the-clock nursing care for her father that she brought up in the second episode about how she's been striving to get enough money to get that for him herself; O'Donnell – paying for his kids' educations; Dixon – giving her the fully-funded means to get started on her watchdog group that she also mentioned in the second episode).

In particular, the campfire scene with Reacher & Crew was touching and successfully impactful from an emotional standpoint. It was a perfect scene to be our last with all those characters together – for now, hopefully. My key takeaway was the cementation of their bond and history. That intended element has been fleeting from the beginning, instead of presenting a concrete basis for evoking a genuine feeling of understanding its reality; it had been logically understood for 99% of every scene with them, including every flashback. But it became believable when they had their post-season-long-battle, retrospective get-together, with a finality undertone, at the campfire.

Smack-dab in the middle of all that, however, was the entire sequence in the helicopter. It was pure Reacher, in the sense of stretching the confines of logic and reality, which isn't necessarily a negative thing. I'm positive many people got particularly irked by it – to the point of hating this finale as a whole, and I'm not a subscriber of that mindset. I found it to be entertaining/fun. It's already obvious that this show isn't one of those shows that will provide that questionably necessary (for a decent amount of people) fix of 99.9% realism from any piece of fictional media. There's no reason to continue treating it negatively. An illusion is nowhere to be found – what you're getting has been straightforwardly authentic from the very beginning of this show.

In fact, it goes back to the source material itself. All of the individual stories within the novel series prioritize entertainment and fun above all. I'm pretty sure there's an instance in one novel where Reacher gets shot, but his rib cage "caught" the bullet because he's practically inhumanly gigantic and muscular. A similar stretch of logic was mentioned in the first season – the premiere. Finlay read aloud the details behind Reacher's Purple Heart Medal: he saved multiple soldiers after a bombing occurred at a barracks by carrying them out TWO at a time, suffering severe smoke inhalation in the process – but returned to active duty 32 HOURS later DESPITE "having shrapnel remains of a jawbone removed from his abdomen."

There's no secret present. Crazy, unrealistic things will consistently happen in this show because it's accurate to the source material. More importantly, it's all in good fun, not to mention it can be extremely entertaining. If that's too much to handle, how can anything be enjoyed? A film, TV show, or certain episodes of a TV show? You're going to encounter plenty of that in close to everything. If that's something to complain about (and regarding this show/finale, specifically), you're being unreasonable. Simple as that.

Besides that, Robert Patrick's acting before his poetic demise, his portrayal of fear and extreme desperation to prolong his life, was great. His overall acting/performance as this typical, always-pissed-off-at-something/exasperated stock antagonist character, topped with the constantly periodic placements of one-liner swear words amid his lines of dialogue, was even better. It was somewhat camp, but that was part of the charm. That can have undertones of pure entertainment – connotations of unadulterated fun.

There's a compatible ingredient to TV shows and films, in addition to various facets within them, of an overlooked, underrated, and underappreciated nature, and that's "coming across as fun." Writers should be tapping into that more often, akin to how commonplace and overarching such an element seemed to be in older, teen drama-esque shows – think Pretty Little Liars – and particular films, too, though I'm less familiar with films like that.

This was a good, enjoyable finale, with palpable feelings: heartwarming, touching, and bittersweet. The season started at a decent place, followed by a steady, upward trek until the midway point; then, it dipped slightly in quality. But this finale shot up right up there to that place at the start, possibly reaching even higher, and ended everything on a high note – a bright spot in a mostly cloudy solution.

(989-word review) The flashback portion was easily the best part of the episode; they'd been "there" beforehand, but now there was actual weight behind that usual part of each episode in this one. I was engaged. The shootout/action sequence was good, and its final scene, with the unit singing, was somewhat heartwarming. It's a bit wild that it had more (successful) sentimental value than Russo's death. That was undoubtedly meant to have a powerful and emotional impact – most likely a lot more than the ending of the flashback, based on the assumption that the writers also intended for that to have some sentimental value as well. Yet, it was a complete failure, at least for me. It's particularly interesting due to the similarity in unfamiliarity we have (or don't have) regarding both the characters in Reacher's unit and Russo – how, despite that, there was still an undisputable winner.

I know I'm probably in the minority, but somehow, a scene with multiple characters, all of whom we never got to know that well, singing a song I've never heard, had actual, genuinely palpable emotion – the kind you wouldn't expect from such a scene but would expect from one of the supporting characters dying. From the perspective of the individual contexts, I'd imagine most people would have assumed that death possesses a natural disposition of drawing out one's emotions over a bunch of people singing together. But alas, things can end up taking the wheel and bringing the vehicle to different places, going wherever they go, contrary to the original intentions.

Speaking of the 110th, Dixon and O'Donnell's current predicament aroused a surprisingly adequate level of investment from me in wanting them to survive; they probably will. Unbeknownst to me, I've come to care about those two characters. I don't remember (and this isn't me talking ill of Finlay and Roscoe, though it was only her in such a situation – with Charlie Hubble and her daughters) feeling this way with Roscoe's capture towards the end of the first season. It should be noted, however, that this season's "good guy(s) getting captured" moment has a greater feeling of danger and urgency – even amid the well-founded belief that the cliché of such occurrences within a story (despite the rare, uncommon instances that are done better and make you wonder if the cliché won't happen) being for nothing in the end will be relied upon once again.

There were also the particular gory or brutal moments in this episode, some of which were potentially gorier than usual, at least compared to previous ones we've already gotten. It feels like this season has generally upped that aspect of this show. The only standout comparisons I can remember from the first season were the nailed-to-the-wall, balls-in-stomach death, Kliner Sr.'s "Venezuelan butterfly cut," (as Reacher called it, though its actual name is supposedly a Colombian necktie – it's anyone's guess as to why the writers didn't go with that; my guess is it was to draw the literal connection to Venezuela/the Venezuelans for the sake of the narrative, possibly on Lee Child's part if that line was in the novel) slashed throat, the deaths of Stevenson and his wife, and Picard's crushed-by-a-hydraulic-press death.

But all of those examples do seem comparably gory and brutal now that I've written them out. A better way of putting it, perhaps, would be that the overall season did feel emphasized primarily on the mystery-solving element but not as much on depicting gore and brutality, sometimes through action-y scenarios, while conversely, the action-y tone within this season comes across as closely highlighted, which could be a driving factor behind the feeling of the violence and brutality here being a step-up in comparison.

Another component at play is likely the consistency of those aspects in this one compared to the sporadic placements in the first season. Depictions of gore and various levels of brutality have essentially been consistent from the get-go up to this point, especially in this episode itself – for example: Reacher breaking the guy's fingers in the flashback, the interrogation scene, Neagley throwing the scissors into Langston's guy's face, followed by him falling on the bone saw. They were all excellent. Those moments elevate the enjoyment. I want more. And I bet the finale will be the cherry on top – continuing the consistency, for sure, but maybe it'll even contain the goriest visuals of this season.

This was an improvement upon the previous episode (that one wasn't bad, though it seemingly contributed to a detectable, slight downward trajectory), and I appreciate that. There didn't seem to be any (at least apparent) instances of having to suspend your disbelief like there were previously, besides the one cop who was standing at the opposite side of the door to Grant's room, who was looking straight at it; he conveniently didn't care about Reacher and Neagley leaving the room after Grant flat-lined, which was seconds before the situation became known. Only one instance isn't a big deal.

The ending, in particular, was a perfect place to end it. It, too, akin to the flashback's ending, possessed some weight behind it – a proper expression of emotionality; in this case, the connotation was more along the lines of enthusiasm. Setting up the finale. Sparking a type of specific interest. Reacher's intimidating presence and his aura bled through the screen, telling us plenty: "Langston is screwed."

Langston and his men have foolishly trapped themselves in a habitat Reacher's now occupying – a bloodthirsty animal on the prowl, with prey all around him. Any place where he's present automatically becomes his territory, and they've closed off their avenues of escape. A.M. and his men will presumably get torn to pieces, as well. The stage has been set for the finale. Investment in it has been acquired. Desire to see Reacher go ham on everyone has been kindled.

Bring it on, S2 Finale.

(1,620-word review) I'm starting to notice what some people were talking about concerning the second half of this season. I've seen comments mention how more apparent instances of a logically questionable nature end up occurring, possibly accompanied by a slight sense of a dip in quality as well, at least compared to whatever level at which you'd put the beginning of the season.

I can't pinpoint it, but this episode's "quality" felt lower than previous episodes. This one also had an ordinary, overall "basic" air about it in contrast to the unique individualistic identity this season has somewhat had, or seemingly had, at the start, up to this point. That came as a shock, given the stark difference here to the familiarization we've acquired by now with the similitudes of the on-the-surface facets within the presentations of every prior episode. It's like successfully holding something past the halfway mark of whatever you think fits appropriately in this terrible analogy, then suddenly dropping it. "Locked-in...ness" became unlocked. Houdini is alive, ladies and gentlemen.

There were also moments that, yes, you could point out in episodes besides this one (but were more easily excusable), that stood out a little brighter as a result: Reacher calling out to Langston instead of only calling his phone, then quietly but quickly heading to his location – instead, he called out to him, called his phone, then walked at a snail's pace a step or two towards that direction of the sound before the helicopter teleported close enough for him to magically hear, given he didn't hear it coming way sooner (though I suppose you can justify the first part of that whole sequence with the likely assumption of Reacher wanting to kill him slowly and one-on-one); then, he walked out into the open to shoot at the helicopter while being shot at for the first couple of seconds.

Followed by Russo's "heroic" (drawing symbolizing connections with him giving Mikey Franz a toy of a comic book superhero in the prior episode and the story about his father's death at the hands of dirty cops because he refused to lower himself to their level, adding another facet to an act of being a cop who dies a sacrificial, "heroic" death to protect a kid) entirely avoidable, last-stand of excessive foolishness by heading directly towards the guys shooting at him because the plot/source material said so (maybe that was written better in the novel), and the last guy wasting a couple of seconds to shoot out a one-liner instead of shooting Jane, as well as conveniently standing in the middle of the road, giving Neagley enough time to run him over – another instance of a character not hearing a loud noise until the plot allows them.

The biggest offender was Russo's death itself. There was this feeling that it was meant to be impactful; I mean, what death of a significant/semi-significant character wouldn't have that intention? But it didn't feel like that at all. They tried to gaslight us into seeing it that way, with the on-the-nose, "heroically sacrificial" score cue as he was "walking into the fire" – and as if that wasn't enough, they tried even harder to bestow a genuine sense of emotional weight through the moment shared between him and Neagley as he was dying of her forcing herself to grab his hand, going against her phobia (I read a comment by someone that she was strongly implied in the novels to have haphephobia) of being touched/touching other people as a Hail Mary attempt to get you to care about him dying if you weren't already on board.

We barely knew him; hell, Reacher & Crew, specifically Neagley, barely knew him, yet we're supposed to subscribe to the belief that she would fight against her phobia for someone she didn't know well, let alone nowhere near the extent she knows Reacher (and the others). You could say she did it, at the very least, for his sake during his final seconds of life, which is probably the case, though I'd say that would be forced reasoning for it in the sense of trying to instill any semblance of emotional attachment and investment in that scene.

Plus, why was he facing the wrong direction on the ground? He was facing Langston's men, then walked around his car. His body would've dropped backward, meaning his head should've been facing his car, but his position was the other way around. It's as if it was for convenience. Neagley and the team (minus Reacher) came from behind him. The only (non-existent) "downside" if his positioning was accurate would've been an extra few steps by her. That's barely a hindrance to the flow of the scene. My spatial awareness could've lied to me, though.

I feel like this overall show is at its best in one particular way, and that's when it fully utilizes the character dynamics, usually revolving around Reacher himself – whether it's Finlay and Roscoe's dynamic with him, or the supporting characters (Neagley, O'Donnell, Dixon) in this season and him. In truth, those three have greater potential to extract the most out of that element due to the deeper connection there from their history with him – at least more than Finlay and Roscoe managed to accomplish.

But it's starting to appear as if the writers are somewhat squandering that. The best episode so far was the one in Atlantic City, the second episode, which happened to emphasize these characters and their history; that's almost the sole reason for it being this season's high point at the time. Yet, it's still the high point. The theme of camaraderie and its depiction needs to be more front-and-center, akin to how it was in that episode. The trajectories of TV shows' quality or their season(s) should be gradually going uphill throughout its progression. And now, with this episode, the trajectory of this season seems to be noticeably shifting downward.

Regardless of all those things, I'm going to move on to different areas of discussion.

In my haste to inadvertently but somewhat intentionally catch potential "gaps" in the writing or disregard the possibility that one of those hypothetical instances will have a future explanation, I incorrectly designated the biker gang ambush two episodes ago as a plot convenience. But it wasn't. There was an actual narrative reason. Marsh, Russo's boss, knew about Reacher & Crew's trip to Boston and gave that information to Langston. I admit I was wrong.

Speaking of those two, the confrontation scene with Marsh and Russo was interestingly captivating, both from a writing perspective and specifically from the acting by Al Sapienza and Domenick Lombardozzi. Oddly enough, it practically came across as a scene from a different, higher-quality show. It didn't feel "compatible" with the totality of underlying quality this season has "procured" and mostly maintained. The writers may've put extra effort into it to attempt to propel Russo's character in the minds of the audience by adding further substance to his characterization to give his death more weight and impact, which didn't work for me. His death was already lacking in logic and sufficient connection to and investment in his character, increasing the workload of his scene with Marsh to accomplish anything worthwhile within the realm of making it meaningful.

Furthermore, it's been over half of the season in the making, with, in the meantime, back-and-forth dispersions of different possibilities, but we now have the most concrete information about what part Swan plays in everything. He was or is trying to take down Langston and his operation. We still don't have the full picture as far as his status is concerned – whether he's long dead or still alive but captured, or something in-between. He hasn't been shown on-screen in the present day, either. There could be a missing piece in the middle of whichever route the reveal of his status will go.

I'm almost on the team of wanting there to be another swerve regarding his character for the 100th time, now turning Marlo Burn's side of that story on its head, and he is or ended up on Langston's side, all from the reasoning of wanting that personal confrontation between him and Reacher, with Reacher's additional confrontation against himself and his impulsive, preconceived notions of an excessively unwavering, trusting manner regarding those he considers close – the inner conflict facet working its magic, resulting in a substantially beneficial character growth moment for him.

I also considered the cinematography to be an element that shined strongly. The lighting and general ambiance of the visuals from beginning to end were excellent. More importantly, two particular shots were fantastic, especially the first one: the shot of the gunfire going through the windows of the bus in a right-to-left, horizontal fashion, as O'Donnell and Dixon were moving through it, and the shot of the car with Langston and his guys turning to their right (our left) while the car with Neagley, O'Donnell, Dixon, and Burns turned to their left (our right). Bernard Couture, the DOP/cinematographer, did a stellar job.

One last thing: Reacher's "Can't believe you fell for that. It's a 16th-inch of plastic" line, while great (for the comedic reason but also the subversion of expectations/poking fun at that trope), did come across as a potential ad-lib by Alan Ritchson. O'Donnell/Shaun Sipos and Dixon/Serinda Swan could've broken character; his laugh seemed like it may've been genuine, and she cracked a bit of a smile/smirk, too. Another possibility is that the line was in the script but their reactions weren't. Those reactions did fit the scene – if there was something ad-libbed or unintentional, it makes sense why that part of the scene was kept in.

(1,070-word review) Folks, you can pack up your torches and pitchforks. Or maybe not, as most people may not have even had this theory. If you've read my reviews for the first four episodes of this season, you'd know I found O'Donnell to be slightly untrustworthy immediately after his appearance in the hotel room in the premiere, followed by his possibly-coded phone call with his "son," looking behind them in the car with the crew, and the bikers knowing where they were, all in the previous episode. But now, those things have appeared to be shot down. The latter two instances, in particular, must stem from plot convenience.

It's looking like O'Donnell is on the good guys' side, given his family was shown to us – and right off the bat, too. To be honest, I never fully believed he may end up being the Picard of this season. I just found some things regarding him to be questionable, while I've been less distrusting of him than other characters amidst that. A large reason for leaning towards his innocence is due to me potentially seeing an article that the actor, Shaun Sipos, will return for the third season, which I've already mentioned a million times in my prior reviews throughout my viewing progression of this season.

There is still one thing that one might interpret as another detail intended to make you keep questioning his allegiance, and it's highly likely to be nothing; the writers probably didn't even notice it or thought some people could use this to construct a ridiculous theory. And it's the lack of reprimand toward that one son (Davy, according to the subtitles) who was hitting the other, contrary to what he said over the phone in the previous episode: "Hands are for helping, not hitting."

You'd think a parent who says things like that to their kids would also be saying it practically every instance the kids start getting physical with each other. Yet, O'Donnell didn't say a word about it when his actual family was indisputably present in the scene. Why say it over the phone but not in person? There's a high probability that it means absolutely nothing: the writers figured that scene was a little hectic with too much going on to include the "phrase," or they didn't think to include it. I thought I'd throw this out there to leave no stone unturned concerning my thought process and where my head is.

I'm 90% sure he's clean. The remaining 10% is because he wasn't present in this episode's flashback with the drug bust. Neither was Lowrey, but you never know. Surely, there's a deeper reason for telling us that storyline alongside the main storyline besides showcasing Reacher's past, his relationship with everyone, specifically the tidbit with Swan/how he took a bullet for Reacher, now that a conflict is brewing, and his overall personal and emotional ties to what has happened to the other members of the unit.

But one of the self-proclaimed "Special Investigators" must be dirty, and it's practically confirmed to be Swan unless a swerve is coming – either him being clean or an additional member of the unit is also dirty. If there was still any doubt present after what Dixon and Neagley told Reacher and O'Donnell about him (his digital thumbprint authorization for the missile shipment departure, and the fact that New Age's New York "base" has iris scanners on the doors, in addition to thumbprint locks on the computers, suggesting there's no way he was forced to authorize the shipment), the reveal of him giving the orders to the professional hitmen should be definitive enough. Or it was a different guy.

It's possible that someone else (one of Langston's men, most likely) used Swan's name to try and pit Reacher & Crew against him, whether he's involved (but got on Langston's bad side somehow) or not – and alive, of course. It is suspicious that we haven't seen him yet, which continues sowing seeds of doubt. Is he dead? Was he involved but taken out for some reason? Is he involved and still alive? Was he never involved but managed to escape and go on the run, possibly with the help of Marlo Burns? She's still an unsolved piece of the puzzle. Though, to be fair, now that Swan's actual involvement has seemingly been brought to light, he could finally make his grand, first appearance-in-the-present entrance in the very next episode, subsequently quashing that slight feeling of suspicion.

Additionally, the action sequence at the funeral caught me off guard. I didn't fully process Langston's "That plan's already in motion" to be able to make the connection of another attempt to kill Reacher & Crew being done during the funeral before it happened; it was an enjoyable, well-shot sequence, with a decent subsequent foot chase and car chase to boot. Reacher's right. This thing IS coming to a head fast, further shown by how the episode ended.

Other than the score cue playing in the background (which even had a particular, coinciding feel to this) of that scene and the song during the credits, there weren't any songs in this episode, almost as if to signify Reacher's heightened determination to get to the bottom of this, particularly his hell-bent desire to confront Swan – a near tunnel-visioned pursuit, leaving no room to enjoy music. For us, its purpose is so we can have the means to tune into his current headspace: no music to add subtle tones of lightheartedness to an otherwise serious centralized tone.

I noticed it was a shorter episode – perhaps the shortest one so far, and it was primarily focused on setting up and creating anticipation for the final three: less than usual to talk about in the review. We did get the reveal of Swan's involvement and Langston's act of desperation through the attempted funeral hit, with a slice of plot progression from the missiles being stolen, on their way to New York, and so is A.M., while Reacher & Crew are inching toward the cusp of blowing this whole thing wide open.

All of the pieces are heading to New York. You can see their imminent collision. A grand, epic climax is on the horizon, as there are merely three episodes remaining. I'm expecting them to be relatively quick-paced, with some balls-to-the-wall progression of the plot – and hopefully, an adequate amount of high-octane action, brutality, and carnage.

(1,916-word review) This episode was essentially this season's most important one yet – in the grand scheme. Less importantly (but still a significant detail/revelation), we discovered that Langston is the Head of Security at New Age, NOT the CEO. I assumed he was the CEO, as I'm assuming plenty of others also assumed; honestly, his actual job in the company makes so much more sense than being the head of EVERYTHING, at least within the company's hierarchy concerning its supposed legitimacy on an official level.

That reveal does present a new question – a possible, additional mystery: who is the CEO of New Age? We might get a reveal that Langston is doing what he's doing, which still isn't fully apparent to us, under the orders of someone else: someone above him. Hortense Fields, perhaps? He doesn't seem entirely trustworthy in the flashbacks. And he may end up being one of the "sharks" behind the heroin case, including the aviation fuel case, as it presumably was related, given Reacher asked Dixon to pull its file after they examined the crime scene of Private Simms, the kite-imprint-on-his-palm guy in the previous episode.

The more important information we got in this episode was the info dump about the Little Wing project. There are a few more things, either related to that or related to other pieces of the overall puzzle, that have yet to be unearthed, but that chunk must be the main piece.

And the close-to-full-picture we now have is much larger than what got in the first season. It's barely comparable if it's even comparable at all. A counterfeiting operation vs. selling software to the highest bidder that can make missiles bypass every countermeasure, always hitting their target; while, yes, the counterfeiting storyline did increase in proportion, having substantial scope, it pales in comparison to what we're getting here.

This plot perfectly fits the mold of an action-oriented blueprint more than the first season's blueprint, making me circle back to my assumption after the premiere that we'll receive a good amount of action this time around – a larger amount than before.

However, there isn't much of a palpable sense of urgency to stop terrorists from using this software to deal significant damage to anything in the sky, particularly commercial aircraft. It merely feels like a backdrop for Reacher to unleash limb-breaking headbutts and superhuman-like physicality in his rigged-to-be-successful mission to be the winner, in addition to avenging the deaths of his friends, which, let's be honest with ourselves, is 99% of his motivation. This terrorism plot is small beans. Thwarting it is a bonus. And we're here for it. We're here to see him break bones and steal souls.

I can't "complain" about the lack of urgency to thwart the bad guys' evil plot. The first season was the same. But that's usually the case with most similar plots throughout films and TV shows. That element has been diluted through repetition. Logically, high-scale plots would have it. Now, they've been overdone and are so commonplace that it's been transformed into a straightforward backdrop for other things to shine: for maximizing the enjoyment and experience. Nobody really cares about how this season's plot is a massive step up in severity compared to before. Most people should at least notice and acknowledge the logical reality of that, even if the essential elements to make you FEEL it is not present.

Moving on, I bet Swan's involved in Marlo Burns' supposed disappearance act, and she's holed up with him somewhere. The specifics of his involvement in the full picture of everything beyond that scenario are still a mystery. It's looking like he may have stumbled upon something, then brought it to her, and she's not in on it; they team up, hence his coded email to her, he went into hiding, and now that the situation with Trevor Saropian happened, she went straight to getting the hell out of dodge with her daughter, possibly joining up with him.

Their possible team-up could've also been in the sense of skimming a piece of the pie, whatever the "pie" is, as it's starting to look like it may not be money, or ONLY money – not to mention her bag of money that was still in her house, which is undoubtedly a suspiciously specific, important detail. But in what way? If that's the case, she may've been captured or killed by Langston, and he/his guys were smart enough to convincingly make it seem like she left herself. I predict that whatever went down with her will be very vital in the following episodes, and I predict Swan has to be involved somehow – out there somewhere, in hiding for some reason. He's quite possibly the most relevant piece of the puzzle. I suspect something big concerning him is on the horizon.

Then, of course, we have the most riveting antagonist in both TV show and cinema history: Mr. "Do you know why I like comic books so much?" Adrian. That shtick of his has already gotten old and irritating, with only two instances of experiencing it. I get it – an antagonist with such a character trait, shrouded in an air of mystique, is theoretically compelling, especially on paper. The application of an on-screen persona is where the problem lies. The writers are trying too hard to make him intimidating through this mystique-enveloped, emotionally-void "personality" of unadulterated professionalism, while simultaneously attempting to give him depth and substance through this character trait of being obsessed with comic books because "the good guys always win."

A potentially upcoming, deeper backstory to that (for example, experiencing some traumatic event as a child, and he coped by reading comic books, or they were nearby during the traumatic event) isn't going to resuscitate what was already dead. It's so uninteresting, and he's even more uninteresting. He's an incredibly underwhelming antagonist so far. His death will be so satisfying to see. There better be broken bones.

I also find it slightly death-flaggy that the script included O'Donnell receiving a call on his burner phone from one of his kids, with the cherry topping of him saying to Reacher that he doesn't know why he gave them his burner number. That makes me wonder if something will happen to him, perhaps not in a definitive way – but that will assumably lead to his phone being stolen, resulting in his family being in danger.

I'm probably going to the extreme point of questioning and looking too deeply into everything, particularly things that have obvious alternative connotations. It could've only been a means to bring about the relationship/marriage conversation with Reacher, not to mention it feels like too big of an undertaking to suddenly drop a family-in-danger, "We need to rescue them" subplot into the mix with everything else that's going on, which happens to be plenty by itself. But I suppose that can be included, executed, and resolved super easily – and quickly enough to where it barely feels like an inconvenience to all that's going on concerning the main storyline.

But, lo and behold, the matter of the ambush at the end of the episode slithered right in, ordered by Langston. How did he know where they'd be – or rather, how did he know where they were for the bikers to either follow them until they drove into the restaurant parking lot and parked their car or for someone else to follow them and pass on their location to the bikers?

O'Donnell's phone call could've been code: "Hands are for helping, not hitting" could mean to take a quiet approach and not use guns, while "Share your Legos, okay?" could mean passing that information along. He even went straight to attempting to excuse the call to Reacher by mentioning how he doesn't know why he gave them his burner number, only Reacher was distracted: his attention was elsewhere, and he wasn't 100% focused on that. Even if he was 100% focused, it's already been established that he has a blind spot when it comes to the members of his unit, with how adamantly defensive he is regarding Swan.

The problem with that theory is that none of those things explains how the bikers found them, though maybe we're meant to figure O'Donnell's been feeding them their location, even if it was off-screen, as long as that phone call WASN'T his son.

He even conspicuously looked behind them at a car that was perfectly positioned for us to see and didn't mention anything. The car might've been a random person's car, but what if he was keeping an eye out for the motorcycles? Nevertheless, there's a good chance he was merely making sure nobody was on their tail, though it is odd that he was the only one who did it in a potentially intended-to-be-noticed-by-the-audience way. These details of potential relevance, in coordination with the ambush's timing, are interesting. Maybe the explanation of how Reacher & Crew were found comes down to plot convenience.

Now, it's time to address the biggest takeaway from this episode: Finlay's cameo return. Unfortunately, it was spoiled for me through a YouTube reaction video thumbnail: a nonchalant fashion to get yourself spoiled. But, to be fair, it's been months since this season premiered. I wasn't that bothered by it. It was a pleasant "surprise," besides the surprise part. I'm pretty sure his momentary return was not in the novel being adapted here. I like that the writers took to heart the reception of the first season, specifically the characters of Finlay and Roscoe. I bring her up because, from what I've seen, a lot of people wanted her, in particular, to make a return, which may still come to fruition. I doubt she will, though the writers can still bring her back for her own cameo appearance in the third season.

Don't worry. You're practically at the end of my review. There are two remaining talking points I want to say a thing or two about.

1.) Reacher's course of action for him and O'Donnell, most likely happening in the next episode, about going to Homeland Security to find out what they may know about A.M., makes me wonder if Marlo Burns, Swan, or somebody was/is working undercover for them. This is the second mention of the DHS; the first one was in the previous episode when we saw Franz's printed document of a DHS case about A.M., including Reacher telling Russo he'd want them to flag all of his aliases. And now Reacher and O'Donnell will be going there to learn more. It feels extremely unlikely that they won't glean anything new. I have a feeling we're about to get another reveal as far as they're concerned.

2.) That fight sequence at the end was this season's best. The cinematography (the aerial, tracking shot of Neagley and Dixon walking around Marlo Burns' house was also great), the direction, with the steady snowfall, topped with the good-looking fight choreography, especially the brutality by mostly Reacher (catching the chain and yanking the person off the motorcycle, the headbutt arm-break, the leg-break, the second leg-break, the pipe across the face, Dixon's shoe heel in the eye of one of the guys, and knocking the last person off the motorcycle with the pipe) were all excellent. There better be more where that came from in the remaining episodes. My only criticism was that the editing was a little too choppy, but thankfully, it was nowhere near the extent of ruining it.

(1,541-word review) Based on the ending, one of the theories I floated around in my review of the premiere could turn into a reality. My "original" theory regarding this potential plot angle was that O'Donnell would be revealed as an enemy by the end, having pretended to be on Reacher's side. There was a subtle aura of suspicion around his first appearance: the backdrop is Neagley's ransacked hotel room, he's the main character of this metaphorical narrative, and he has the benefit of the doubt to convincingly shift blame, you know? But I still gave him the benefit of the doubt, and whether or not the writers intended for you to come to the assumption of his further involvement, which is now looking to be a red herring, is anyone's guess.

More importantly, I also floated the possibility that a different member of Reacher's unit could fit the bill. Picard was a traitor (or rather a wolf in sheep's clothing) in the first season, and that kind of element feels like something you'd see used all the time in similar stories; it feels so common. I wouldn't be surprised if Lee Child repeated it or did a similar enough plot point throughout multiple novels – to varying degrees, at the very least. And the writers are toying with that part of my overall theory, though this implication of Swan's involvement might be yet another red herring, or the first red herring if they didn't intend for the audience to be wary of O'Donnell's allegiance.

They might even hoodwink me (and hoodwinked others who were in either of those two boats, or both) a third time by going the full mile of making a member of the Special Investigators an antagonist after revealing that it isn't Swan. The only remaining member, in the event of that scenario, would be Dixon. I'm vaguely aware that Reacher never has a long-lasting, in the sense of an over-the-course-of-multiple-novels, or even permanent love interest in the source material. I may have seen an announcement, stating Shaun Sipos' (O'Donnell) return for the third season a couple of months ago – nothing about Serinda Swan (Dixon).

Those things contribute to various things that may end up happening concerning her character. If she's an antagonist, she'll likely die by the end, probably at the hand of Reacher. If she's one of the good ones, death could still await her. Or everything turns out fine, as it did with Roscoe, and her fling with Reacher will end on the same note – off to the next season where a different love interest awaits.

Concerning the implication with Swan, he possibly wasn't aware of whatever was going on, found out, went along with it, then changed his mind once the other three guys got wind of it, specifically when they started getting taken out; he got killed, went on the run and got killed, or he's still on the run. Another course of events is that the first two happened, only he had a problem with it, starting poking around, which led to him getting Franz involved, who then got Sanchez and Orozco in on the investigation. If that's the case, Robert Patrick's character likely doesn't know, given he mentioned getting "a bead on" Franz's "buddies in Atlantic City" and Franz's defiant silence during torture, suggesting Swan's part in the whole thing remained close-lipped. Variations of that avenue of theory include him being the reason Franz, hence Sanchez and Orozco, got discovered, or somehow getting found out himself, subsequently being taken out.

The narrative is seemingly heading toward making him involved in a "You're going to get torn in half by Reacher" sort of way. That can explain why his apartment was the one place that wasn't ransacked, which the writers made a point out of by having Dixon bring it up as a thing that must mean something in the previous episode. There's also the continual mention of Swan by the characters. That makes sense narratively, but it makes me feel like there's a deeper reveal coming than him being dead. But I'm probably looking too deeply into it.

Moving away from the topic at hand, of theories and theorizing, for a moment, mainly because there's more where that came from after this, I want to switch the topic to Russo's character. He seems characterized as that by-the-books character, a role Finlay's character revolved around in the first season, who's always going on about it – breathing down the necks of the characters who want to take matters into their own hands, which writers almost always make sure to include in various shows and films, and I have no idea why. I'm not sure if it's to prop up the characters who dare to go against that type of character and those moralistic, stickler-coded values in a "Stick it to the Man" manner; conversely, I'm not sure if it stems from a borderline authoritarian-fueled obligation forced upon writers to adhere. The reasoning possibly comes down to a simple thing: creating the sort of clashing dynamic you'd usually see between such characters and the conflicting ones, often the main character. That trope is inherently annoying and unneeded.

Interestingly enough, I happened to see a photo or two of Russo when this season was airing – and, oddly, I automatically assumed that he must be from Reacher's unit. That would've been so much better than his actual characterization. The stickler-cop routine is cheap and diminishing. I don't know if most TV show/film characters like this are often New Yorkers as well, but that aspect did feel like an addition to distract you from how weak his overall characterization is – a good ol' sleight of hand "Look at this stereotypical, foul-mouthed (simply in the sense of almost swearing every other word: not necessarily a negative thing, at least in real life, but TV shows and films can be a different story) New Yorker instead of seeing a trope-laden, empty cardboard cutout" routine to get you to mistakenly believe he's an interesting or even entertaining character because of the stereotypical, direct (with some spice) shtick.

Now, it's time to circle back to the topic of theories. One of my loose, tossed-out-there theoretical thoughts that I included in my review of the previous episode concerning Robert Patrick's character, whose name we now know is Langston, was on the money. We haven't had this explicitly stated yet, but it does appear that he has a leadership role at New Age Technologies – most likely the top guy, CEO-style. I seemingly predicted that part correctly.

So far, it appears that Langston is selling "products" (weapons or otherwise) to the overall military, given he's presumably the CEO himself of an aerospace company, while the military-official-seeming guy who, in the previous episode, executed a transaction with Adrian, is the guy in charge of doing the official transactions for the military, only he's in on it: sporadically giving information about shipments here and there to Adrian – he uses that information to steal the shipments, then sells the weapons to the highest bidder. I'm mostly spit-balling without much basis regarding the "military" guy's role in the entire process. It's anyone's guess.

I've considered the possibility that he isn't a second-party, military-associated cog in the machine but rather an extended arm of Langston. The chain of command (in the sense of Point A to Point B to Point C within the order of events) may go Langston/"military guy" > Adrian > highest bidders. But I feel like he's an additional party besides the other two guys. The way I figure that revolves around his need for reassurance from Adrian in the previous episode that "the weapons" will "all be used overseas" and that the truck driver of the shipment won't be harmed. He may turn out to be a piece of the puzzle that contributes to the downfall of everyone and everything else involved in whatever Franz, Sanchez, and Orozco were investigating.

This episode also had more humor and comedic undertones than there was in the previous two; it felt that way, at least. It feels like a balance has been found between subtle moments like that, other subtle elements, and everything else – leading this season closer to the first season's synergy.

Additionally, the action is heating up, already exceeding what we got from that component back then. The two action sequences, at least the first one, as the second one was less of an "action sequence" – Reacher & Crew's raid on Trevor Saropian's "house," which was epic, and their easy-peasy, in-and-out infiltration on New Age Technologies at the end, despite being clean with no resistance (no gunfights/action sequences/fight sequences), was equally as epic – were better than any of the action in the first season. It's starting to look as if the odd inkling I got from the premiere that this season will be more action-oriented/action-y, comparable to the atmospherical commonality of action films, is relatively close to the mark. I suspect there are more excitingly enjoyable, even better action sequences throughout the remaining episodes.

In short, you DO NOT mess with the Special Investigators! Everyone, their dog, and Swan's dead dog do, but we might as well keep saying the catchphrase; the characters most certainly will.

(1,498-word review) I can't remember how the pacing of the first season was; it may very well have been the same or similar enough, which is beside the point. My point is that, because I can't remember, I can't compare it to the pacing here – no reason for wanting to do that beyond comparison's sake; I like and desire to be as thorough as possible. By itself, and I know this is only the second episode, the pacing felt slow. And part of me thinks that, for many people, it can be relatively easy to forget something like that in the heat of the moment, at least in scenarios like this where you're only two episodes in or at the start with more ahead.

The result can be having an unintentionally disingenuous opinion and outlook toward what you just watched after the fact: "This was too slow," "I can't believe how boring this was," "Where is the action?" – so on and so forth. Latching onto those kinds of opinions and mindsets, while lacking a crucial and essential, little thing by the name of 'introspection,' can happen even easier (possibly more often, as some people may have similar opinions of a piece of media regardless of possessing contextual knowledge at any point) than forgetting that sentiments or questions of such a nature aren't relevant because you've only just watched the second episode of a show/season or you're at the beginning.

In this context, the somewhat slow pacing is completely understandable. And, looking at it from a broader perspective, that's better in multiple ways than moving things along too quickly. I would rather various (and preferably all) facets at play here, not just plot-related, to be allowed the necessity, albeit privileged, of cooking and progressing at a slower but steady enough pace, even though a small part of me usually wants the exciting "meat" right away.

Ultimately, it's a matter of pacing YOURSELF – keeping YOURSELF and your hasty, impulsive thoughts in check, and realizing the most desirable sections of the "meat" will eventually be served to you. It comes down to patience and how much you're willing to muster.

I had no issue with it. This was considerably better than the premiere. I thoroughly enjoyed it. A significant reason for that boils down to the slower pacing, in a manner of speaking, due to what we got in return: individual and collective character development of these characters alongside Reacher, which was mostly done and showcased through the scene in the suite with them. That scene was great. I liked that specific instance of them having time together and their overall time together in this episode. Alan Ritchson, Serinda Swan, Shaun Sipos, and Maria Sten have excellent chemistry with each other.

My attention was intently grabbed by Dixon and Reacher's deeply personal moments during the whole crew's conversation scene, including their talk while walking, and their preceding interaction of flirtation before the "sex scene"/makeout session to imply what's about to happen (spoiler alert: he got beaten for the first time in his life), which, in and of itself, was exciting to see – for two reasons: 1.) they've, at last, done what they wanted to do in the past, and (2.) the less-than-tiny sneak peek we saw, despite the "tameness" of what the full nature of the act itself entails, somehow had a detectable level of eroticism and sensuality to it beyond what tamer scenes like that in shows and films usually seem to possess. The lighting, camera angles, and the song played into it. They seem to have a spark – an extra-sizzling effect, significantly and noticeably a level further than the spark between him and Roscoe, which I'm 110% here for.

By the way, Alan Ritchson, when shirtless, before they got to it, looked to be twice as huge and chiseled as he was in the first season, where he was already pretty huge and chiseled. It's almost to the point of having an immediate worry for his health. I'm sure he's surrounded by exceptional-in-their-field people who are ensuring his health, on all fronts, is top-notch and in good condition.

The humor amongst these characters feels natural and as charming as the humor was in the first season. Everyone seems to mesh well together, and so soon. That's both a testament to good writing but especially the great jobs done by every actor; assumably, they hardly knew each other during this point of filming, yet all of them were able to achieve this level of camaraderie in the arena of acting/pretend. O'Donnell is by far the primary source of that, and he's on the fast track toward becoming a favorite of mine – unless he's made it there by now. I'm going to say something outrageous but subjective: Neagley, O'Donnell, and Dixon have already reached, possibly exceeded, the esteemed status of Finlay and Roscoe. For me – though I have a feeling many others felt the same way. I want O'Donnell and Dixon to return in the third season (and any after that), but I doubt that will happen. Dixon, at least, probably won't return. O'Donnell, however, could return. There's a possibility I could've seen an article within the last few months that announced Shaun Sipos' return for the third season.

I also liked how most (if not all) the visuals and overall cinematography looked. Most of the locations had an alluring appeal, further highlighted and complimented by the lighting at times. Everything about the visuals possessed a strong, aesthetically pleasing essence that radiated through the screen. Nothing concerning those elements stood out that much in the premiere, besides that one shot of the ATM with the reflection of the woman with Reacher behind her. This episode had a change of pace, for the better, with its look.

Additionally, I can't ignore the main fight sequence close to the end – "main," as there was the immediate handling of Russo at the beginning (though it barely crossed the threshold of being a fight sequence) and the bar fight, which scratched the at-least-one-fight-sequence-per-episode itch until the proper one came along. Reacher and Dixon vs. those three guys easily scratched the itch with more poised professionalism. There was a subtle, barely existent feeling that it was a little unnecessary in the sense of the way it played out, but I can't complain about getting action/action sequences, particularly when they include Reacher taking out the trash figuratively, as one would do so in the literal sense of the phrase.

I imagine a few others had more concerns with a different aspect of it: the duration and the slight depiction of "weakness" from Reacher, contrary to their possible belief that he should've blitzed right through them and anyone – but perhaps more so regarding future fight sequences rather than this one, based on a thing or two I vaguely recall seeing mentioned by some people. Either way, I believe such sentiments are highly irrelevant, and the reason is simple: we know Reacher will always come out on top, so we should get on board with slightly "prolonged" fights for the mere entertainment benefit they have if nothing else.

Now, let's talk about the biggest piece of information we've received thus far: New Age Technologies, an aerospace company. My developing theory, stemming from that, in addition to other information so far, specifically the scene with Adrian and the other guy in Colorado, is that it could be unofficially selling stuff to non-American, non-military/governmental entities to use overseas.

Or they ARE selling plenty to the American government, but someone involved on their end, somewhere amongst the chain of command of those possible transactions, is siphoning little amounts here and there for personal profit: aka that guy in the scene with Adrian, who gave off government official vibes, and he's the one "selling" or rather helping Adrian steal shipments, followed by him selling it to the specific individuals, entities, or highest bidder; Adrian could be the final person at the end of the transaction process – everyone gets paid handsomely, including Robert Patrick's character who is almost certainly in on it somehow. But his involvement (and Franz, Sanchez, Orozco, and probably Swan) is harder to construct a theory for due to the understandably limited information we've been given so far. He could potentially be at the helm of the company, have some form of leadership there, or he's on the military side of things.

I might as well end this review by adding a layer to my developing theory with a shot-in-the-dark addition. What if the flashback with Reacher and Dixon holds important significance beyond purposes related to their dynamic and budding relationship in the present time? The case she brought to him caught my attention. Someone was using the appearance of excess aviation fuel as a means to transport something secret and likely illicit. What are the odds of that case being related to the present-day case?

That's where my mind is currently frolicking while awaiting something more concrete.

(1,448-word review) This season has an uphill battle ahead, given that it's the second one: a follow-up to the first, which seemed to have luck on its side. It seemingly had perfect construction, writing, and structuring – a lightning-in-a-bottle, stars-aligned scenario in every sense of both phrases. And I wholeheartedly believe the characters of Oscar Finlay and Roscoe Conklin played a massive part in the first season's picture-perfect landing. But it's no secret that those two characters have made their entrances, already followed by their leave – though there could be a surprise cameo appearance by one of them by the end – and I'm skeptical about Neagley and the other recurring characters this time around (David O'Donnell, Karia Dixon, and maybe the bald guy who's keeping an eye on Neagley: Russo, as I know from his name being mentioned in the titles of clips on YouTube showing up in my recommendations when this season was airing) being able to fill in that gap and adequately filling in their shoes.

Depending on how that aspect turns out, other areas may have to step up to the plate and do some heavy lifting to make up for a potentially unsatisfactory or not up-to-par recurring cast of characters, at least compared to the excellent execution and successful incorporation of Finlay and Roscoe. In fairness, however, that only concerns the people besides Reacher. The overall plot of the adapted material here, Bad Luck and Trouble, already shows the potential of being more compelling and enjoyable with more investment attached to it than the plot of the previous season, adapted from Killing Floor.

But I suppose, on the flip side, some people, who could've felt slightly underwhelmed with the previous one, may've climbed on board immediately with this one due to more checked boxes already of the type of things they automatically gravitate towards – things that may not have been present previously.

On a personal note, I do believe this season has big shoes to fill if it's to rival or exceed the first season, with or without the specific elements from this show's beginning that seemed to do most of the carrying and subsequently propelling it beyond where it would've reached without everything synergizing to the extent they did.

Yet, even then, I do have to admit that it was still "only" mildly entertaining: one of those shows/seasons that does the basic job of being entertaining and enjoyable but nothing deeper/beyond that. That is a 'me' thing, though, and I am NOT using that sentiment as a subtle way of saying it was bad. This show is "good enough," and if this second premiere is anything to go off of concerning this continuation of the show, it'll likely continue down that route, which is beyond acceptable for me; don't get me mistaken.

I'm looking forward to continuing moving throughout this new season, from beginning to end. I know I'm a bit late, but better late than never.

I'm ending my ramblings here. It's time to talk about the premiere itself. It did its primary job of diving us right on in, subsequently presenting us with and introducing some new characters we'll be seeing more of throughout the season, the basic components of the plot we're getting with this one, and some plot-point crumbs to theorize about.

Firstly, the obvious one: Franz's death (what/who he was looking into, why he was looking into it/what exactly it entails compared to the counterfeiting operation in the first season, the possibility of his death having another cause besides merely investigating the "wrong" thing or person – also, Franz's actor sounded similar, talked similarly, and even looks somewhat similar to Ralph Macchio; Luke Bilyk would be an excellent casting choice for a family member of Daniel LaRusso in the sixth, final season of Cobra Kai, though it's probably too late to introduce someone like that at this point).

Secondly, the lingering question of why the deaths don't seem to end with Franz (suggesting there's something deeper going on if the other members of Reacher's "Special Investigators" unit are also being targeted) to this Adrian character (who he is, why Franz was looking into him/his aliases, who he works for – whether it's Robert Patrick's character or not – etc.) and Robert Patrick's character (the meta Sarah Connor joke, particularly his response to that name-drop, was good – spoiler alert, I've never even seen any of the Terminator films yet), who is presumably the primary antagonist – giving just enough to spark a sufficient level of interest and intrigue for you to want to see more, wanting to see it all unfold and be revealed to us.

Additionally, for some odd reason, I got this feeling that we may get a more action-y season compared to the further pinpointed, concentrated focus on the element of solving a case and the mystery surrounding it of the first season. I do think we'll receive some of that here to a degree, only it'll be distinctively less than before, with the added element of increased action/action-y moments. And that's not necessarily a negative thing. While the potent and palpable sense of mystery and overall tone of mysteriousness and intrigue was at the forefront of the various positives within the first season, a slight change of pace and toned-down intensity of that can be good.

I particularly liked the depiction of Neagley and Reacher's relationship/dynamic, and by extension, Alan Ritchson and Maria Sten's platonic chemistry here. There was barely any of that previously, on account of her character having little screen time. There were a few "breathable" moments with them beforehand, sure, but it seems like there will be way more opportune moments now for them to have interactions that showcase and add to the presentation and depiction of the dynamic and relationship of theirs we should be able to see and understand fully. Their conversation in the hotel room did exactly that. It was good. Moments like that accomplish a lot in terms of enhancing the overall enjoyment of an entire episode of a show.

I know some people have certain reservations regarding her character now, whether it's the fact that she wasn't in the novel being adapted or the sentiment that she's dull, maybe even poorly acted by Maria Sten. But, at the very least, most of the scenes with her and Reacher are good, in addition to keeping her character afloat, though Finlay and Roscoe landed from the get-go while Neagley does require some marinating and development to reach their level. That could very well happen throughout the season as it progresses.

The last thing I want to touch on is O'Donnell. I want to make my position clear, even though anyone who may read this likely knows the truth of this assumption of mine from already watching every episode: I've considered the possibility that he could be one of the "baddies." That henchman of Robert Patrick's character referred to Reacher by the nickname of "The Big One," and O'Donnell conceived "The Big Guy" nickname, which is similar enough; in all honesty, those two things likely aren't correlated in that sense. However, he conveniently showed up at Neagley's hotel room, and though he said it was ransacked when he got there, he could've done it himself and used his relationship with her and Reacher to play it off as if somebody else did it. Or he's an intentional red herring by the writers for the audience to expect that while another member of the unit is involved. But nothing of the sort may be the case, and nobody in the unit is involved.

I'm not 100% committed to any of those theories yet. I could very well be leaning toward him genuinely being on Reacher's side. That's because I've possibly had a glance at a Deadline or Variety article recently about (new) cast additions for S3, with one of the headshot photos potentially being Shaun Sipos, suggesting a return. Unless that vague recollection isn't quite like that, I think there's a decent chance O'Donnell is recurring in the Reacher novels like Neagley. All that's left is for me to watch the next seven episodes.

Overall, this was a decent start, and I'm interested to see what's in store. I'm just as interested to see the logically questionable, suspending-your-disbelief-required moments that supposedly start happening around the midway point to the end. I've seen a few comments bring up occurrences like that on r/JackReacher when these episodes were airing. I expect them to not detract much from the overall enjoyment and experience of each episode. There's one way of finding out which way that specific component leans – on to the next one.

(745-word review) Similar shows, however many or not so many there are, likely apply a prominent emphasis and highlighted focus on the "mythology" behind the powers – bringing that aspect front-and-center and constantly adding more layers and exposition to it. In such instances, the plot and story arcs usually aren't presented with an air of parallel or close-to-parallel importance, and the personal underlying outlines of the characters are also way less depicted and explored.

It's all about the intrigue and "awesome" factor of the deeply-rooted success behind the overall comprehensive concept of endless abilities, submerged in the deepest depths of the imagination and the subconscious but also conscious, near-tangible creativity realm, with a vast assortment of differences and complexities, sometimes ever so slightly but significant enough – an array of variations, twists/spins on their capabilities, functions, and inner workings and capabilities: the general palpable identity and individuality possessed by each one, thanks to work put in and done by countless different writers, helped by their respective imaginations and creative spark.

It's about the expected immediate investment in that, which often is the case; it's effortlessly engaging. Something about that concept resonates easily with many people and is digestible beyond measure. But this show/first season flipped the script concerning that to a degree. The show creator and writers went another route.

Instead of following suit with the status quo approach of diving head-first, straight away, into the power aspect, and leaving the plot and the characters, especially the unveiling and prolonged-throughout-the-season focus, ever so slightly in the dust – not precisely transporting those two things to the back-burner/into back-burner territory but near the precipice enough for the result of a half-baked overarching story(s), though not necessarily in a negative way, accompanied by a lack of proper time spent with the characters, both generally, outside of their abilities propelling them regarding the writing/scriptwriting of their characterizations, and more subtly, through getting to know them and engaging with them by the utilization of being shown their lives, the other people in the midst, and so on – the presentation of that in its entirety, the route the writers went was prominently character-based, not even the story beats, which is another common direction to take the narrative structure; they pulled a second fast one on us, flipping the script once again.

Instead of predominantly exploring and constructing, to their fullest extent, the nooks and crannies of Tandy and Tyrone's powers, from being embodied in light, being able to summon daggers/knives, and see the hopes of people, to the same but in darkness, being able to teleport, and see the fears of people, or predominantly focusing on the overall narrative, they went with the choice of putting the characters at the helm and making this a character-driven journey across the ocean. It was a surprising but pleasantly effective one: showcasing their individual lives, internal struggles, now laced with a strengthening weight, a new obstacle with their newfound abilities, and how the two are coping with that and everything else.

The first half was about Tandy and Tyrone coming to terms and dealing with their powers while delving into the aspect of their personal lives and who they are as individuals, further establishing a connection there for us – on the opposite side, the second half was primarily plot-related, advancing both of their story arcs after we got a sufficient look into their personalities and individualities, topped with the struggles they face, past and present, now enhanced by having the additional weight of possessing supernatural powers, its set of struggles and difficulties, which intruded into everything else they had going on; both halves had various moments of obtaining a grasp on the abilities, both through acceptance and gradual control.

This introductory season was definitely that in every sense of the word, focusing on establishing the characterizations of our two protagonists and allowing everything to breathe. It was leisurely paced – potentially too slow-moving for some, likely many people, who desired an increase in the speed of the progression. I didn't mind it. I also wasn't bothered by the assignment and division of the spotlight between the three narrative aspects. The writing throughout its entirety was satisfactory; I was engaged in the unraveling of the plot from start to finish, each character, notably the leading duo, while my engagement in the others was to an extent, and the soundtrack by the music supervisor, Jonathan Christiansen, was excellent, with mostly every song being likable for me.

(1,012-word review) There is absolutely no doubt that this is the highest point the season has achieved so far. My recollection of feeling the same way the first time I watched it is vivid. The only difference between the past and the present is that my evaluation of it in the past was, more or less, ever so slightly higher than now, and that says plenty. That goes to show how splendid this episode is. It was perfect from every angle – from start to finish. A 9 out of 10 rating was necessary to fully express that sentiment, as an 8 has been the highest I've gone until now. There was an instantaneous moment of contemplation between an 8 and 9, but the choice was an easy one to make.

Additionally, it was somber in tone and direction, with no score cues or songs playing for most of it. There were two songs, though the first one is less relevant given that it was at the beginning up to the title card, at the end, and during the credits. The second song, amid the main chunk of the plot, didn't detract from that different-than-usual feel – the usual being the teen drama feel, accompanied by multiple songs and consistent score cues. I still like that primary identity of the show, but this different, one-off approach was an excellent one, especially considering what a big deal it is due to the show being one that greatly prides the use of music. The few score cues were composed wonderfully for their purpose and enhancing/complimenting the tone. The overall subdued background noise, besides the necessary sounds within almost every scene, was the icing on top, as it propped up the effectiveness of everything happening on screen – or extra icing atop what was already there from the only-two-songs usage and the tone-complementary score.

Tim Kang gave a terrific performance. He had a particular and distinctive way of acting that landed well, specifically in a comedic undertone way. That's likely a signature of his, having applied as much to other roles or stemming from a typecast situation. I know for sure that subtle comedic delivery was prominent with his role, playing Kimball Cho, in The Mentalist; it may've been presented to a way lesser extent through Gordon Katsumoto in the Magnum P.I. reboot, which I saw – the first two seasons and an appropriate amount of time has passed since then for me to be uncertain about the level of that signature characteristic he displayed in that role – acting-wise, Olivia Holt also gave a splendid performance. She and Tim were leading on that front, though Aubrey Joseph was a close or tied second.

As far as the specifics of this episode are concerned, I particularly liked Tyrone's attitude of bewilderment at Tandy and her exploits – a complete ball of bewilderment and astoundment towards the pure audacity she, at times, exhibits, coupled with a hovering effect of feeling done being involved with her and whatever she's doing the very second he gets the total picture and fully processes it, not only at the hospital but also in a general sense in previous episodes. He's at his wits' end, courtesy of her absolute tomfoolery; that state of his immediately goes on high alert whenever they share the screen – ready to spike to a proper activation.

Moreover, as far as they're concerned – them together – I also liked the emotion-filled, voices-raised back-and-forth between them after he went back into Ivan's head. It was an impactful scene from each angle: the emotional weight behind Tandy's side of the situation and Tyrone's desperation and desire to make her snap out of it, showcasing a worthwhile payoff and superb execution of all the build-up/establishment and slower, methodically characterized development, separately but specifically together, of these/their characters up to this point, through his present, cultivated care for her – and vice versa in a more subtle way, though their conversation over the phone at the end changed her side of that, rising it to the surface in a conspicuously expressive way.

Speaking of the ending, the parallel of her telling him in their back-and-forth that nobody called her and nobody cared with how he called her at the end, solidifying that he cares – well, solidifying it further, as that had already been shown and illustrated; it was for her sake most of all, not only something for us to observe and connect – was lovely. He's her friend. He's her platonic – but tinged with romantic/sexual-coded colors – partner.

That ending was incredible, by the way. It was even topped with some potential flirtation on her part, which he may've discerned and receptively accepted, depending on your interpretation. After all, these characters are shipped together heavily by many, not to mention their original counterparts in the comics were/are a couple. You could see their shared moments and the ending in a different light or also in this light – one that depicts a slow burn between them beyond mere individual and collective character development. Considering this show was on Freeform, which primarily deals in teen drama-y shows, meaning romance and shipping by most of the audience/viewers is prominent, it's an appropriate move to glean romantic vibes between them, especially the clear-as-day chemistry that Olivia Holt and Aubrey Joseph have with each other, as any scene could have that intended connotation.

What else is there to say besides what's already been said? Season 1 hit its peak with this one, rivaling the premiere – so much so that there's a plausible chance that, even from my perspective in the past of a non-review, thought-lacking, void-of-feelings-and-opinions mindset beyond the basic, limiting choices of "I liked it" or "I disliked it" due to my brain's "capacity" and "sentience level" being inefficient concerning what to write about the television episodes and films I watched, any of the final three of this season may not have surpassed this one for me. That's certainly where my thought process is right now – what I'm predicting will be the case this time. The finale could come close.

(1,017-word review) I couldn't help but notice the pacing, narrative structure, and the division and assignment of screen time for every scene in this episode – in an incredibly positive way to preemptively clear up any potential misconstruing. All of the scenes felt perfectly paced and focused on, while the places chosen with each one to switch to another, in addition to their order and arrangement from those switches, were even better. As such, I also couldn't help but realize that those aspects in the previous episode were slightly "cluttered" and felt hectic – not in the sense that the overall episode wasn't that good, as it was pretty decent: the fact that I didn't even notice it until now. However, that may've stemmed more from the content rather than a latching lackluster nature to those individual components.

The central, most prominent themes seemed that of collision and intertwinement – different plot threads within the two story arcs of our darkness-and-light duo at the helm of this show, bleeding into each other; well, not necessarily the plot threads themselves but rather the characters, who are now getting involved in others besides theirs. At the forefront, there was the guaranteed involvement of Tyrone in Tandy's extensive search for answers underneath the facade of lies regarding the oil rig, her father, and any relevant information concerning the Roxxon Corporation through the character of Ivan Hess. His state of mind is tattered and damaged beyond medical and technological capabilities, as the deeper innards of his psyche are being guarded and blocked by convenient but understandable darkness if you consider the possibility that the current condition of his mental self was caused by the oil rig explosion, which gave Tandy and Tyrone their powers – specifically Tyrone, given the specifics of his.

All the pieces add up to and connect in the form of his control over darkness, which he will use to absorb the darkness inside Ivan's mind or make it dissipate, allowing Tandy to venture further into his head. There's a probable chance he'll go along with her due to how Tyrone's going to have to link with Tandy's hope-seeing ability to arrive at that same place/door instead of his personalized, fear-seeing version unless those two "worlds" within Ivan are meshed together, resulting in him arriving at the same place even if he only put his hand on Ivan instead of on Tandy, whose hand is on Ivan – or maybe that whole journey will be initiated by her hands on both of them.

Next in the line in the order of occurrence within the intertwinement aspect of things was between the minor Tyrone-Duane subplot and O'Reilly's subplot with Connors – both coming into contact with each other, colliding with each other. And the collision was a hard-hitting, impactful one. One of the things mentioned in my review of the previous episode was my fragmented remembrance of Tyrone's confrontation with Duane, specifically the death. My initial interpretation of the fragments indicated that my feelings leaned towards having thought that it was an intense scene. But having seen it a second time, it was more sternly mellow than anything, which was a surprise. It's possible that I was recollecting a feeling from Duane's demise – the actual section of that whole event with somewhat of an imbuing intense vibe – and mistakenly assigned it to the incorrect part.

Most importantly, Tandy will now be involved with Tyrone's story arc further than giving him advice about constructing a narrative to "get to a cop" two episodes ago and now, in this episode, to make an opening and fill it in by using Kev's fear(s) against him – by being there for Tyrone through his emotional disarray after what went down in that situation with those characters. The fact that she couldn't physically comfort him because of the supernatural barrier between them was sad and heart-wrenching; however, that current inability serves as an effectively influential enhancer to the inevitably successful execution of inability to ability. I also liked the parallels in the beginning with the two of them – how she and he did the same thing by playing a character to get close to Mina and Duane, their respective "marks."

As far as the Evita-Aunt Chantelle narrative is concerned, particularly compared to everything else, it was the weakest part, 100%. Its overall point boiled down to divine pairings and the revelation that Tyrone and Tandy are another pair, signifying that there is an impending danger heading to New Orleans or that something within the city is bubbling up and ready to burst – whatever the Roxxon Corporation was/is looking to acquire by digging deep into its inner, underbelly layers is the predictable and obvious guess –, which are both interesting enough. But the most essential point was the cliché proclamation that one will live, one will die, as that was probably the "cycle" with the previous pairings; however, (!) wait a minute (!): Tyrone and Tandy are different and unique – they'll be the first pairing to break the cycle! I don't know. That whole thing wasn't super engaging or as engaging as the accompanying events in this episode. At least the 3D figurine (or whatever those things are called) of Tyrone, created/introduced in the third episode, is on the way to receiving significant progression and explanation.

The main "elephant in the room" in that section of this episode was the aunt. There's a mildly festering "something or other" rising to the surface with her character, casting a spell of sorts, one of negative connotation, on all of those scenes. I can't pinpoint it – whether it's the acting, the directing, the dialogue, the line delivery, or simply a subjective, mismatched viewer-character scenario. I'm unsure if I was one of these people during my first viewing; I'm vaguely positive some disliked her character – no particular, explainable reason for it, only pure dislike/irking irritation whenever she's on screen.

Everything else was top-notch – and so, this came the closest to the premiere, in my opinion, making it this season's second-best episode thus far.

(1,065-word review) This was akin to the second episode – a vehicle for focusing on the characters/their character development and the less significant meat in the middle of the more succulent, long-term meat of each central character's story arcs, while the latter isn't as much of a focus. This can certainly be done well and made incredibly captivating, but it wasn't the case then, nor the case now.

But that isn't necessarily a negative thing. Multiple things can "make up" for such instances when episodes centered primarily on building up the developing component of the characters don't quite go the distance in and of itself; for starters, those characters themselves and your level of investment in them, not whatever the plot entwinement of developmental purposes with them entails – and this show's duo at the helm are worthwhile and effective enough to fill in the gap.

Furthermore, both ongoing story arcs did receive some progression. Significant development concerning the Roxxon Corporation played out, with Tandy's section holding 99.9% of the engagement. Her mission to learn important information about them, particularly the identity of who's in charge, was noticeably given attention. The introduction of Mina Hess, Peter Scarborough, the reference to Ivan Hess, Mina's father, within Peter's hopes, in addition to "S.E. Fluid Dynamics" being on his hard hat and his name being on the blueprint of the (or a) oil rig alongside Tandy's father, sets the stage for considerable additional development, likely accompanied by an extensive info-dump – while Tyrone's basketball championship game seemed to be highlighted the strongest, coupled with a second-place focus on his and Evita's developing relationship, giving beneficial screen time and exposure to that aspect for enhancing their character dynamic.

It's sweet enough thus far, managing to be sufficiently engaging, though the chemistry difference between Aubrey Joseph and Noëlle Renée Bercy compared to him and Olivia Holt is night and day. Aubrey and Noëlle have chemistry, but it doesn't come close to him and Olivia. That, and the knowledge of the fact that Tyrone and Tandy are together in the comics, somewhat lessen the scenes with him and Evita – no offense to them, Evita, Noëlle, the chemistry between her and Aubrey, or the writer(s) behind those scenes.

The writers undoubtedly realized as such – realized the massive division differentiation between the two narrative sections, hence the implementation of something worthwhile within his story arc: the gratifying value attached to the expression of his compassion and humanity by letting the other team win, assisted by his powers giving him insight into the team members, only he changed his initial intentions instead of taking advantage of that, unlike with Tandy, through the excellent contrasting touch between those characteristics of his and how she's becoming a little too familiar and intoxicated with the power and control over people she now wields.

That added further depth to his character, increasing his likableness as well. Both of which contributed to my investment in him increasing. His characterization is distinctly more successful in executing the art of engaging with your audience/the viewer/me than Tandy's currently; she'll get there – she needs time for the necessary development. The contrasting differences between the type of person she is compared to him should even enhance that pivotal moment when she develops into a better version of herself, closer in line with him on a compassionate/humanity level, and, by extension, not intentionally abusing her powers from a place of enjoying having control over others.

But there was also the extra layer added unto the plot thread of his vendetta against Connors, with Duane's character, one of Billy's friends, who he also was semi-close to; how he is a drug dealer and in cahoots with Connors, which possibly played an indirect, by-association part in Billy's death – maybe not, and the only thing to glean is that he's working with Billy's killer, suggesting that he didn't care about him as much as he'll insist, or that his morals are flimsy, specifically when the prospect of a substantial pay-day is on the table. That new revealing info will probably catalyze a heated exchange – most likely in the next episode, which will also presumably contain the further, detail-oriented, exposition-heavy development and progression of the Roxxon Corporation-related story arc.

Additionally, during the first few seconds of that first scene of Tyrone teleporting to his workplace, vague memories began emerging. As I've mentioned in previous reviews, I've already seen this show – once: both seasons, as they were airing, or at least the second one because I was two months late when I began the first season, and that scene was the kickstarter of the stream of remembrance, and it was among those memories. More importantly, the most significant memory was the imminent confrontation between them and a specific thing that happened. My recollection of it is a bit hazy, but from what I recall, it's an intense and impactful scene.

Besides Tyrone's part in that ongoing storyline as far as the personal and solo progression side of taking Connors down is concerned, broadly and through the plot thread with Duane/the conversation he overheard, its process has expanded beyond the low-key and cat-and-mouse, not-legally-official (regarding being brought to justice rather than taken OUT) game between the two of them – mostly initiated and done by Tyrone. The face of that expansion is Det. O'Reilly, who has made her return, and now, thanks to him, has her eyes set on Connors as an assisting reckoning force to hammer down upon him the comeuppance heading his way: a more central role/plot thread for her character, with the benefit of making an actual, not illusory, dent in the drug-dealing enterprise within New Orleans, following the meaningful – but void of proper justice – unraveling of the truthful events behind the stabbing of Rick, who got what he deserved from his attempt to rape Tandy.

Lastly, the soundtrack was great once more. Jonathan Christiansen, this show's music supervisor, did an excellent job choosing the songs. The previous two episodes "only" had three songs that stood out to me, the second one had four, the premiere was soundtrack-excellence galore with EIGHT, while this one went up to five. That suggests there's been a slight dry spell until now, as far as I'm concerned, but three songs are still exceptional. Either way, I particularly liked the ones he chose for this episode.

(1,078-word review) This episode, coupled with the premiere, supposedly aired as a two-parter, which is apparent to a degree – not in a negative way; these first two episodes complement each other. The first part went strong concerning its presentation and straightforwardness as if to make an impression – understandably, given it was the introduction to the show. It went straight to the point, throwing you in with the characters. At the same time, this one was more subdued, giving you some downtime and breathing room to absorb everything that happened previously, in addition to everything happening here, allowing you to spend time with Tandy and Tyrone as they and their respective stories are further fleshed out.

From one perspective, that means this episode didn't have as much excitement, on top of not necessarily surpassing the premiere, which undoubtedly occurs often in TV shows where, after an excitement-filled, possibly minorly action-y one, its follow-up/follow-ups are less so with a more prominent emphasis and focus on things of greater importance than being exciting to watch, though that could potentially be avoidable and it's likely been accomplished a few or many times; conversely, that doesn't mean it's automatically mediocre. Less exciting does not equal terrible; it's not a negative thing to momentarily tone that down slightly.

Besides the necessity, relevance, and importance attached to episodes like this – giving a more encompassing focus on the development of the characters, slipping some appreciative and needed depth in there, continually fleshing them and their storylines out is extremely paramount – this, in its fullness, wasn't successful at devaluing the on-paper, logical purpose and intention; it didn't manage to be boring or ineffective, as was (and is likely) the case with similar ones in other shows.

Tyrone's story arc was the most engaging for me. The concept of revenge and the attempt to commit it, with the intermissions of the meaningful conversation with Father Delgado and causing his ongoing clash with his teammates from punching the player on the other team in the premiere to come to a head because of being preoccupied with that attempt – though way more blame is on them –, to the conversations with each parent, especially the one with his mother at the end, in addition to seeing her fear, is, without a doubt, more interesting than attending a wedding to steal the remaining money you need to get out of town.

And there's absolutely significance behind the shot of the bullet and the ballet slipper – speaking of shots, that earlier transition from the shot of Tandy's hand to Tyrone's hand with a bullet on his palm was sublime – specifically, the fact that he chose the bullet, at least beyond the crystal-clear course of action – getting rid of the bullet that's in your room; hopefully, he also got rid of the trash basket. I assume it was meant to represent the choice of revenge over whatever the slipper symbolizes: undeniably something less extreme, like possibly "the light" – to look for the light, and we all know what that is, right? WHO, that is? Only together can both characters grow, take control, and overcome their demons.

But I'm not additionally indirectly implying that Tandy's story arc was the complete opposite – because that's far from the truth. It was decent. I particularly liked how Liam's a caring and sweet enough boyfriend – who's also ride-or-die – instead of being the opposite, which is probably somewhat cliché and stereotypical. My biggest takeaway was Tandy's reaction to seeing his hope of marrying her and spending the rest of his life with her, followed later on by what she said to Delia about it, especially HOW she said it, and her harsh closing words to him at the end to push him away because she's familiar with that, with running away from situations and avoiding them but probably also because of not loving him as much as he loves her.

Those three things are foreshadowing that they'll grow further apart or at least go separate ways, paving the way on her side for cozying up to Tyrone, whose counterpart of romantic relationships is Evita, both of whom are likely heading to romantic waters: only for a short while, as I assume that they, too, will eventually separate, following in the footsteps of Tandy and Liam, resulting in the availability there on both sides regarding her and Tyrone.

Diving into that further, I liked the texting scene between him and Evita. His initial impression and evaluation of Tandy regarding who she is as a person/what kind of person she is was spot-on; he read her perfectly, like a book. He's already on the same page as her, and he's only had two interactions with her thus far: their encounter at the party and the one afterward when he caught up to her – technically three, should you include their first-ever contact with each other when they were children. That's about to change permanently from this point onward due to the ending.

As pleasant as Liam is (for now), and how he knows she squats in the abandoned church and when she's lying, having a bit of an insightful glimpse into her, I can't help but feel his insight into her isn't quite at the level Tyrone has managed to achieve before him, beating him to the chase by a long shot, given the massive gap in the time each of them has known her, which is unfortunate for him, but things are what they are. He and Evita can get together to wrap up the loose ends.

This episode also introduced three new characters, all of whom I remember having recurring roles: Det. O'Reilly, Father Delgado, and Greg. I don't recall much about them, except a specific thing that occurs with O'Reilly's character, either at the end of this season or at the beginning of the second season somewhere; a memorable thing with Greg's character that happens a few episodes from now due to its nature, while I barely remember any specifics concerning Father Delgado. Tandy and Tyrone's characters are the draw – the source of investment in any of the characters: the ones to care about, though his parents, specifically the mother, are two others. But the priest seems likely to reach that point relatively quickly, and the detective, from what I remember, ends up being brought to a similar place over time, at least in the next season.

(1,539-word review) It was high time to rewatch this show, particularly this season, which I started watching a month after its premiere. It came to my mind recently in an intensely nostalgic fashion, much to my surprise; I immediately decided to dive into this show a second time if only to re-evaluate it from an older, more mature perspective, giving it, the episodes, and seasons actual reviews instead of how I "reviewed" back then: one sentence that's either a question or void of saying whether I liked/disliked "it." Ironically, that seems popular and common now, like on Letterboxd; unfortunately, I wasn't aware enough to do it in that meme-esque, sometimes funny (but especially likely to get under the skin of many) way. You could effortlessly tell my brain wasn't at a suitable capacity; I was along for the ride regarding what I watched, enjoying it, yet had no idea what to write about it or what I thought about it beyond that.

I vividly remember liking the first season immensely, and that's corroborated by the ratings I gave each episode back then: mostly 10s, two 9s, and two 8s, though that was when I handed out high ratings to pretty much everything. But now that I've rewatched this series premiere at this time, years later and as a completely different person, generally and concerning how I view TV shows and films, in addition to writing semi-proper reviews now, I can say, assisted by utmost certainty, that it's up-to-par with that initial high rating – a little less so; my new one isn't a 10 out of 10, but an 8 out of 10 is close enough.

This introduction to these characters, specifically the introductory section up to the title card, was fantastic, particularly with how both Tandy and Tyrone's lives were coincidingly presented and edited together, further complimented by the gradual lead-up to their literal coming-together, on top of the similarities and tether of personal relatability and an emotional connection there, with and between their characters, beyond him saving her: the two of them doing the same with each other as their powers go hand-in-hand – from having a family member die in front of them to how Tandy's parents were negligent in raising her and barely involved in her life, leading to her growing up like that, in addition to life after her father's death, plus witnessing it, then with a single mother who already seemed to be the "worst" parent when both were alive: how it shaped her into the person she is currently, while Tyrone's brother died in front of him to then being lied to and gaslit about his death, subsequently growing up and living life without him, topped with his relationship with his parents being a little rocky; both characters, lost in life in present time, with the weight of their pasts on their shoulders while dealing with current struggles.

Additionally, their characters are perceivably being slowly but surely led to facing and confronting their pasts: fighting their respective battles. She will likely go against the Roxxon Corporation – not necessarily the entire company, but most certainly the head honcho or someone close to Nathan; that person may even fit within both categories. On the other side of the duo, he has already come in contact with Connors, the one responsible for Billy's death, which will, without a doubt, further develop into a proper confrontation.

Furthermore, her characterization, in particular (though that doesn't mean his characterization isn't), is off to a great start with subtle layers and visual, show, don't tell storytelling. I liked the shots of the female group of friends, completed with the shots of her afterward, how she saw her mother swallow a pill when the cronies from the Roxxon Corporation took everything, presumably to calm her down some and to help with the extreme emotional stress: to "stay strong," now doing the same thing herself, though not through swallowing them, only to then, at the end of the episode, look at the pills but chose Tyrone's jacket for comfort instead, and her reaction, coupled with rubbing her hand, after seeing her seat at the ballet show being in the middle of other attendees, probably because she would feel "trapped," symbolizing a fear from the car crash – telling us plenty with so little. That may have been somewhat simple (and perhaps other people thought that more strongly and only that: not worthy of praise), but I thought otherwise; it was effective and well done.

Overall, I'm pretty sure the Cloak & Dagger-centric comics were (and potentially are; I don't know if there are any ongoing comics with them) focused on grim themes, or those themes were at least moderately prominent, revolving deeply around sex or child trafficking, and maybe a tinge of drug trafficking. I'm already knowledgeable, through mild remembrance, of this: that the show does honor that and leans heavily into that, adding a lot more to it than the mere, overarching teen drama-esque theme and that sort of thing, which many undoubtedly see this as, even those who've seen it, and while that is somewhat present, you shouldn't devalue the more serious themes that are also present.

For this first season, however, I'm reasonably confident that the focus is on their individual stories, each character's character development, and the coming-to-terms and knowledge improvement of their newfound abilities, intertwined with their collective character progression and development; the second season is when the overarching story leans into the harsh and cruel reality of human trafficking.

On top of that, I know their powers. But perhaps not comprehensively. Tandy can see the hopes of people, while Tyrone sees their fears; she can also summon light daggers (she may have the ability to bring forth other weapons or things and maybe even use those powers differently, not only conjuring knives/weapons), and he can teleport. They can also take away hopes and fears, not to mention amplify them, or at least Tyrone can do that from what I remember, including dragging people into his darkness, which has a dimension in and of itself; relating to that, his powers are scarier and possibly more automatic, shown by how Connors became weakened (perhaps beyond the current on-the-surface simplicity of that, like a portion of his life was sucked out of him; I may remember that a person's body becomes colder and colder as they're being affected by it) after merely coming in contact with that darkness and Tyrone's fear-seeing ability activated.

Besides the apparent lack of effort that went into (or didn't) the casting choice for the younger version of Tyrone, who did not resemble Aubrey Joseph whatsoever – and I'm joking about the possible implication of finding that inconsequential blunder to be immersion-breaking and a huge deal – it was a terrific series premiere.

The music/songs/song choices were excellent; the music supervisor(s) did a fantastic job. I'm aware that element, contributing to the teen drama feel, isn't everyone's cup of tea; some people probably didn't like it as much as I did, possibly even disliking or hating it – at the very least, doubtlessly annoyed by it, especially those who readily find things to dislike or allow to get under their skin unrealistically in shows and films. The score, too, stood out, especially during the scene with Billy and Tyrone before they ran and when they were running away as Nathan was on the phone and driving recklessly.

Not to mention, Olivia Holt's acting was phenomenal and did most of the carrying concerning that side of things, closely assisted by Gloria Reuben's acting. Aubrey Joseph did an equally efficient job, particularly in that "confrontation" scene; he and Gloria did wonderfully and played splendidly off each other.

Olivia and Aubrey had palpable chemistry from the get-go. The relationship between their characters isn't even a relationship yet, let alone platonic or romantic; as it develops, it'll likely go from the former to the latter. Or platonically undertoned with subtle crumbs of romance and sexual tension as a slow burn. Tyrone seemed taken aback by Tandy's "well, you should wear it more often – hangs nicely off your shoulders" comment, and that had a greater sense of genuine affection and sincerity than what was present in his interactions with Evita: free and himself – untethered from putting up a bit of a front. Those two are undoubtedly the endgame ship, most notably in the minds of the majority, even if it remains in slow-burn, excruciating edging territory for the show's entirety.

But the writers are seemingly going for a classic love triangle, throwing Evita's character into the mix, given her obvious crush on him. He seems reciprocal enough – not to her level; he's noticeably distant and not fully present with her – for a potential relationship to occur: a brief one, no doubt. Hopefully, that dynamic isn't abused too much, especially regarding the inevitable increased distant behavior, now directly affecting and interfering instead of being something that happened to be in the air whenever they're together, all because of further exposure to Tandy and having a deeper connection and relationship with her, which she'll predictably notice. Handling that situation skillfully is vital, despite similar situations in TV shows and the like usually being an afterthought.

(490-word review) I only read up to 185 chapters in the manga a few years ago, and that was done casually, while I've been reading the recent ones as they're being released for months now or maybe closer to a year: still done casually. Either way, even if the opposite was true and I have read all of it, in addition to reading it week-by-week, I'm not in the position to have an appropriately concrete opinion on whether or not this show is a faithful and well-done adaptation because of the casual, skimming-through nature of reading it.

I can, however, from viewing it as itself, say it's great on every front. As long as you're not hastily judgemental about the initial appearance of the opposite, at least on a surface level, you can tell they put money into this show, minus the spectacle and spectacularity with its presentation you could potentially be accustomed to and likely expected from this show – the world they've built/the worldbuilding that's been done already is noticeable and remarkable, most notably through the sets and set design, and the practicality of constructing/building the ships; more importantly, you can see the effort that went into this, and you can feel the palpable genuity of care and passion that those involved with its creation (and bringing-to-life of everything) possess.

The script/pacing was straight to the point but plentiful with a good amount of stuff happening at all times, nicely compacted and efficient; most of the characters and their characterizations, especially all of the Straw Hat crew, were great, further complimented by the performances of those particular characters, though some of the other performances were weaker; the cinematography was consistently excellent, while the various instances of VFX and CGI looked flawless enough at first glance (the bounty posters – which were a fantastic addition and I hope that continues – the stretchiness of Luffy's powers, and the sea beast, stood out the most) was the same way. And, of course, the score was outstanding.

If this level of quality is maintained with the next season and, hopefully, seasons more concerning these angles and aspects, topped with the return, and hopefully lasting involvement, of Sonya Belousova and Giona Ostinelli, as their score was phenomenal and contributed significantly to every scene (their departure from The Witcher was crazy; there's no way they made that decision themselves – whatever happened behind the scenes, especially if they were replaced with intention/fired – only someone like Lauren Schmidt Hissrich would do that with composers of their skill – better not happen here), that's about the best sign possible of the continued up-and-coming success story of this show. Netflix could have something special on its hands for the ages, a flagship series, provided they take a leap of faith with it – the ball is in their court. It's now a matter of playing their cards right: making beneficial and correct decisions.

Here's to the second season and beyond!

(994-word review) Putting the topic of adaptation aside, this was a splendid first season, considering that's what it is. Usually, as with premiere episodes, the introductory season of a show has spurts of rocky territory while generally being good enough, though it's seen in a slightly lesser light after the following seasons because they're way better, and sometimes they're appreciated further, whether the premiere/season was wrongfully judged or simply because of nostalgia and looking back on it with a deeper connection to the world, characters, and whatnot: comparing beginnings to what it developed into over time.

Things usually are a massive improvement afterward is the point. But this already felt like that, and it's only the first one, not to mention (and this could be due to my viewing of its entirety taking place through the course of weeks) it seemed like much happened while simultaneously feeling like everything zoomed by, only for the increased shocker that it consisted of merely eight episodes – all you have to do is rewatch the premiere and then the finale; it's a palpable enough difference to warrant shock at the number, as you would've had the automatic assumption that it was more, or at least with longer runtimes.

Each episode had its fair share going on, with concurrent and consistent moving pieces throughout the season, while never seeming excessive and extreme; it's interesting to look back on it after finishing it and having that different perspective of seeing how tightly compacted and well-done everything was. The pacing was immaculate; the right amount of time was allotted to every scene, in addition to their placement within the episodes and when to switch the focus. The most noticeable example was the flashbacks, and they were incorporated so well, from their overall (perfect) runtime to the smooth transitions back and forth into them – and the placements of those transitions.

This kept getting progressively better with each two-parter story arc, though the two-parters began with the third episode. And conveniently/coincidentally enough, the beginning was the weakest with the first two episodes when considering all eight; therefore, the gradual progression to higher heights was constant and didn't falter or ruin that straight-up direction.

However, only concerning the two-parters, Usopp's story arc was the weakest: an opinion held by many from the look of it. It was also supposedly the same way in the manga: it wasn't that giving compared to the introductory story arcs of the other Straw Hat crew members, so adapting it well would've had a similar result; there wasn't much leeway to do more with it. But, in all honesty, despite the truthfulness of the sentiment that those episodes were the weakest ones – the first one, in particular – they were still a contribution to the upward trajectory, especially the fourth episode, the concluding part.

In the same spirit of getting progressively better, which suggests the likelihood of the second half being the best, that's precisely what happened. The last two arcs/four episodes were incomparably the best and at the mountaintop of this show's introduction, especially the final two. And it can get MUCH HIGHER, SO HIGH. It likely will. All the material adapted here is barely even dipping a toe in the ocean; it's more akin to tossing something in from afar.

And, of course, all of the performances were good. Steven John Ward stood out, nailing Mihawk's character – but the writer(s) and director(s) deserve additional applause for doing an equally fantastic job with Mihawk's introduction. Emily Rudd was another distinct performer whose performance stood out, most notably at the end of the seventh episode. The other obvious one, Jeff Ward, did well, nailing Buggy. It is the same with Iñaki Godoy, who has a particular presence as Luffy, even if the characterization and the way he plays him aren't as manga-like as some would like.

The remaining Straw Hat actors (Mackenyu, Taz Skylar, and Jacob Gibson), standing out slightly less compared to those already mentioned, particularly Taz and Jacob, still handled each character efficiently. As far as the non-Straw Hat performers are concerned, Vincent Regan carried, as Garp had the most prominent role and screen time. But Peter Gadiot and Craig Fairbrass played their parts proficiently, while Alexander Maniatis did so to an even greater extent.

McKinley Belcher III and Morgan Davies were the weak links. That's likely an unpopular opinion, but the bug-eyed jitteriness done by Morgan, regardless of source material accuracy, was tiresome to watch. It was enhanced by the on-screen frequency of Koby, the cherry on top being how that subplot was the least engaging. But its climax was a decent "payoff" with the revelation that Garp was only testing Luffy (though that was expected), in addition to Koby disobeying direct orders for Luffy, followed by Helmeppo doing the same, which likely revolved more around the newfound friendship between the two rather than for Luffy: the character growth/redemption arc there was efficiently executed. And I wasn't buying the intended menacing and evil characterization of Arlong because the way McKinley played him came across as goofy to me, among other things. Alexander Maniatis had better success with Kuro's execution.

My only complaint (a minor one) is that Sanji's screen time shouldn't have been as little as it was. He was the least fleshed-out Straw Hat, and that could've been easily different by cutting down some of the Garp/Koby subplot, which was exclusive to the show, essentially being the primary obstacle in the way of that. Looking at it from another perspective, however, it's one of those things that can be put off in favor of other subplots, like the one with Garp and Koby, having the intention to remedy it in the next season, though a lot of faith in a renewal would be necessary concerning that mindset. There will be plenty of him moving forward to make up for that, but the lack of him and the abundance of that duo was noticeable.

(712-word review) This was an excellent finale to the season! I'm already in dire need of another one; I need it now! WE need it now. This is why the concept of time machines exists: to give hope in one's existence to watch the second season and every other one afterward right away. I know bits and pieces of what will likely be covered – bits and pieces of sand, even; lots of sand in two ways, not just concerning the location – but not so much the overall story and moments within that story arc, though I know certain characters who'll be introduced; two characters specifically. A woman and a man, Mrs. Hat and Mr. Hook; however, it won't mean anything out-of-context for those new to One Piece. If you're familiar with the manga or anime, you'll immediately know who I'm talking about. And, of course, the character who was teased at the end.

The second season will likely be incredible for many reasons. For starters, this one was the introductory phase; the story arcs were "tame" compared to everything that comes next, in addition to how one of the main focuses was the working towards and establishment of the Straw Hats with each character introduction, bringing them together; therefore, that's been done here, leaving plenty of room for them as a crew (but also individually) that we undoubtedly desire and will enjoy immensely moving forward. Not only that, there should be that budget increase you can usually accurately expect with subsequent seasons of a show, on top of the experience gleaned by everyone involved with this first one, from the actors to all the departments/crew, that will assist tremendously; hopefully, most of them are brought back if not all.

Everything (at face value, as anyone can look hard enough and find things to dislike or manufacture those things) landed – for me, at least. Everything was perfectly executed. Other than Zoro and Sanji's fight sequence having noticeable VFX blood at certain parts with some instances of the choreography looking like they should've had more impact, which was still easy to look past, and their banter was great, Luffy vs. Arlong was fantastic, especially Luffy's final two moves and the last move in particular – a lot of money, time, and caring effort must've gone into that – the moment when Luffy came out of the rubble and everyone's reaction, complimented by the musical motif from Nami's theme song playing, was equally fantastic.

Circling back to Zoro and Sanji's fight sequence, specifically against Kuroobi, that dive into the water and rapid movement through it and subsequent out-of-water tackle on Sanji by him was super great. My only complaint would be the lack of stuff like that: the lack of water utilization and Fish-Man Karate by the Fishmen. That somewhat diminished it, making it a bit generic; in all fairness, that had more involvement in making it stand out, not the VFX blood and low-impact-looking choreography. It would've been nice if the fight choreographer(s) devised an efficient way to incorporate more of those things with the cannon fodder Fishmen.

But the final scene before the teaser, from Luffy's gift (or the crew's gift) to Nami, then her/their gift to Luffy of the actual Jolly Roger (which I'm assuming was done by her; I don't remember that part from the manga – or Usopp may have done it), to even further heights with everyone declaring their dream and the splicing-together of their past selves, topped with Zoro's hilarious taken aback reaction (it's my headcanon that it wasn't scripted and that was merely Mackenyu's reaction) to all of them wooing/whooping, was so much better, and everything else was already good; what a phenomenal scene. And all the reactions to Luffy's bounty, from Makino to Kaya to Zeff to Buffy to Garp to Shanks, were an appreciatable addition and very anime-like.

This conclusion was satisfying; every plot thread was wrapped up nicely, and the way it ended was silky smooth, even more than Zohan's hair-dressing, allowing that same smoothness to be present with the transition into the next season. And hell, I'll bump up my rating for this finale to a nine out of ten; an eight got the point across, but nine was right there – ripe for the taking.

(835-word review) Nami was the final crew member whose backstory had yet to be revealed and was saved for last, and here it is. It wasn't entirely unknown, as with other things from the manga mentioned in my previous reviews. Objectively speaking, it was undoubtedly the most tragic of the backstories – right now. And THAT scene at the end of the episode was nicely done; let's ignore Luffy's shouting-at-the-sky declaration, for it was too much, regardless of source material accuracy.

Even before that, the scene in which her lifelong plan falls apart was superb and perhaps better. Emily Rudd's performance in each of them was outstanding. Her line delivery has occasionally felt forced in prior episodes, but her overall acting has been adequate. That seems contradictory – doesn't it? This episode set the stage for her to cook, thanks to the scriptwriting/manga counterpart, and she went all in.

I've been speculating how her theme song track (featuring AURORA's melancholy but soulful and heavenly vocals) will be applied and woven into the show since hearing it. Given the feeling it evokes, I expected it to accompany a scene/moment with a central theatrically epic nature. And that wasn't necessarily the case, though there is some leeway in making that association.

Prior assumptions aside, the incorporation, not of the song but of an instrumental version, fit its context; it intensified the emotion spilling forth of the severity behind the crumbling away of everything worked towards for so long. It may even be in the finale, and if so, its insertion (which will most likely be the actual song with the lyrics) could be during a more epic/montage-y moment, with the crew sailing off. I particularly enjoyed the musical motifs (?) that appeared throughout the episode; I heard two instances, but there could have been more. That was a nice touch.

But I don't have a firm view on the backstory's overall success, and the occasionally awkward acting by Lily Fisher, notably by Genna Galloway in the scene where Nami mentioned hating being poor, didn't help. Neither did the dialogue about "I thought I was going to die; when I saw you, I knew I had to live," which appears manga/anime-like and may even be accurate; yet, the ridiculousness underlying such dialogue remains. On the plus side, Lily's performance was good preceding Bell-mère's death.

The more obvious impediment was how much it depends on Arlong's character; he's the linchpin. The seriousness of his cruelty is critical for adequately portraying Nami's past and effectively establishing the type of person he is, in addition to McKinley Belcher III's acting complimenting that. But his characterization and some areas of the portrayal dragged those elements down a notch. You can tell he's supposed to be this terrifying, terrible villain, while, in actuality, he's a palpable misfire and the weakest one; Kuro has been the best villain of this season, which sucks because Arlong's supposed to be a super intimidating and formidable opponent for Luffy, the toughest so far, indicating the increased effect the Grand Line antagonists/opponents will have on him and even us, the viewers.

The choices to cast a black actor to play him and to write the Fishman-human dynamic complexities in the slightly heavy-handed way they have to blend those two elements further, in addition to that hip-hop centric theme song score cue and the undertones of excessive/on-the-nose modernity, lessened the ruthlessness aspects of his character that should've been a slam-dunk: making him come across as goofy. And, of course, considering his part in Nami's backstory, it also lessened the effectiveness of that.

He's essentially an expanded/reworked iteration of Alvida – and portrayed as unconvincingly. While this was among the worst offenders, the two instances of him vibing to the music were somewhat funny – and his complete laugh, accompanied by pissing himself from the sound of it (that was served to us two times (?), beginning with him at Baratie in the previous episode after threatening to start eating the other people there, and when he laughed here in the map prison room with Nami) was the same way.

To avoid a misunderstanding, he's rightfully dislikable/hateable. For me, however, the subtle things that contributed to his, no doubt unintended, goofiness did most of the work in making him easy to dislike and want to be beaten by Luffy as immediately as possible – and I doubt the writers wrote him that way, topped with the additions of modern times, through the theme song in particular (though it's a catchy beat) among other details, revolving his character around them, with that in mind. But I'll take anything that makes his looming defeat more satisfying.

In other news, that Jinbe name-drop/foreshadowing by him was something else. I have no idea whether he was mentioned this early in the manga or if it was later on, which, in all fairness, would still constitute "early," given the number of chapters. When I heard that, I immediately became the Leonardo DiCaprio pointing meme. I liked it.

(700-word review) Sanji's backstory, specifically the twist at the end, and the much more surprising twist and subsequent betrayal by a particular character – though it was made less of a surprise here because bits and pieces were leading up to it, whereas it was sudden and shocking in the manga – likely landed well with many of the viewers who haven't read the manga or watched the anime. Some fans of the source material may have enjoyed this episode even more because they got to see each of them (especially the backstory) in live-action. I assume it was one of the season's best for many people.

I was previously familiar with the backstory details, most notably the ultimate twist, alongside the surprising discovery of Nami's allegiance and her pivotal decision that leads to a highly memorable scene, which bodes well for the remaining two episodes. But, contrary to the likelihood that having prior knowledge did not have the same effect on other people, I believe that "lessened" the expected impact of those two things. More controversially, Sanji's backstory was the weaker one, and the whole thing with Nami landed better, with the subtle piercing effect of it on Luffy (on top of his reaction), not to mention it sets up her backstory. More importantly, it adds to the effective dynamic of the crew and how much Luffy values her, leading to that iconic moment, which will undoubtedly land for me if only due to the reunion.

Another perspective to consider is how good the previous episode was, going above and beyond and establishing, with ease, the standard to live up to and (hopefully) surpass, either with the final two, possibly both, but more generally, encompassing the entire show. It cooked up a massive fire and left it sizzling, while this one had difficulties keeping that sizzle going, let alone reviving it back to a fire.

However, on the plus side, Arlong's arrival at the Baratie propelled a slightly overarching weakness to considerable improvement. That fight sequence was good, and Buggy's reappearance was fantastic. He was the best part of this episode. There was also something that may have gone under the radar, and it relates to certain shots in previous episodes that weren't particularly liked; well, the revelation that he's been eavesdropping with his "eyes and ears everywhere" explains those shots, though I was already a fan of them before this recontextualization and deeper meaning. But at least there's an actual reason, beyond being a directing choice, for the people who were turned off.

I also liked the scene with Zoro and Luffy after the former woke up, featuring Usopp. The emotional connection present on Luffy's part, complimented further by Zoro's vow and the weight behind it, was noticeably well-executed, and the comedic relief moments of the hug and the arm yank were not only funny but they increased the sincerity of the scene; the way Zeff's mustache was flopping as he was prodding Sanji to go after his dream, the final goodbyes between them at the end was surprisingly impactful, largely thanks to Taz Skylar's acting, Zoro's reaction to Buggy, which was enhanced by that circus-y score cue kicking in, and Nami's outfits – the costume department needs massive applause for their excellent job here.

But that final shot of Koby after Garp's speech was hilarious. I've always been indifferent concerning that subplot. I've seen some complaints about it, coming down to frustration about the amount of screen time it's receiving: how Usopp's story deserved a chunk, and now Sanji's story – both of which were practically on the back-burner within THEIR stories. While I'm still indifferent towards those sentiments and observations, that subplot/the scenes with Koby and Garp are becoming tedious now. They seem to lack variation; it's the same conversations over and over, seasoned with the continual bug-eyed, jittery acting by Koby's actor – that never bothered me much until now, as it's growing old, despite the potential trueness and faithfulness to his character in the manga. And what was up with Garp's speech? What was different about that declaration compared to his initial avenue of action? I must've missed something subtle that indicated a significant change in the course of action.

(945-word review) Despite only reaching CH.185 of the manga years ago, meaning mostly everything in all those chapters is a blur (and I mean EVERYTHING), I still remembered the Zoro vs. Mihawk decimation. It's iconic and easily memorable; plus, Mihawk has such a distinctive aesthetic and air about him, even in manga form, almost to the point of seeming cocky and smug but managing to walk a thin line between that and simply being HIM; he's an absolute menace, and he pulls it off exquisitely. He also accomplishes fraudulent status. That's when you know he's a god-tier character – Fraudhawk, the GOAT.

But, in terms of the show, I already knew that this was THAT episode, the one with that fight, so naturally, I had high expectations going in, which further stemmed from knowing that reaction videos to this episode on YouTube are receiving an increased influx of views than previous and subsequent ones. I'm happy to say that I wasn't disappointed, and the fight sequence itself was well done and efficiently depicted the beyond-vast gap between Zoro and him, stretching that dream of becoming the world's greatest swordsman to even higher, unimaginable heights, which followed the manga's lead. It's not even close: this is the finest one of the season so far.

Everything that mattered most was perfect, from Mihawk's introduction/Steven John Ward's flawless performance to all of the scenes at The Baratie, especially the one with Zoro and Nami: both of whom, specifically him, let down their walls a bit, connecting to an extent and giving us some character development, resulting in them feeling more like proper characters. He displayed genuine emotion for once during that brief interaction with Nami and after challenging Mihawk. That other interaction with her concerning the approaching battle, including his declaration at the end of this episode after its conclusion, were both brimming with more emotion than he's revealed up to this point, except for when he was younger in the backstory flashback.

Furthermore, I liked the parallel there, between his emotional showing in the past and during his fight; he was acting the same way he did against Kuina, with aggression, in addition to the other parallel between Luffy and Sanji regarding their parental figures – how Luffy's been in a similar enough scenario with Garp, only he has already stood up for himself and his dream, going against Garp's wishes, while telling Sanji to do the same, who hasn't done that. There are complexities involved, for sure. But, as I said earlier, about 99% of everything up to the point where I unintentionally began a hiatus that turned indefinite while reading the manga is a blur. I don't remember what's up with Zeff (otherwise known as Ghost – but also Gaz and Wallcroft; Craig Fairbrass has a distinctive voice) and the dynamic there with Sanji, though it's still noticeable that Zeff cares about him, as does Garp care about Luffy.

Another thing I liked a lot was Garp's reaction to Luffy's cannonball deflection, which was an assortment of emotions: a concoction of anger, frustration, his fighting spirit/yearning for battle rising to the surface, and being proud of him. That show of those things reminded me of Walter White's reaction in the car after his interaction/deal with Tuco in Breaking Bad: a palpable surge of life, excitement, and LOVING it.

And, of course, there was Sanji's introduction to the show. Besides the fact that he's already likable in such little screen time, in addition to being wonderfully portrayed, and wanting to see more of him right away, particularly as a member of the crew and his interactions with everyone else, most notably Zoro, I immediately fixated on Taz Skylar's accent, which is discernably British but often sounded way different; it even had Jamaican similarities or something along those lines at the end of his first dialogs to the two guys who were arguing and how he pronounced the name of the restaurant: "Now, now, gentlemen. You know the rules here. We don't waste food, and there is no fighting at Baratie." That's the Canary Islands side of it, and it's an unusual mixture – in a good and oddly well-resulted way. I've never heard anything like it. His deep-ish voice/accent also sounded black to me in his first scene, like those in England who say "bruv," wherever in England that is; maybe that's where he grew up. Taz is HIM; he's Sanji, 100%.

An unexpected and effectively hilarious moment that deserves attention and a mention was when Zoro was struggling to sit down with the swords. While it was one of those things that usually brings immediate second-hand embarrassment for me, it quickly faded and turned into something funny. I like the moments like that and similar subtle instances the writers are doing with his character, like the drinking habit and the one-liners relating to it; "That fish better have a bar" was another great one-liner.

Lastly, the score cue during the surgical cutting-down-to-size operation on Zoro, "Wounds On The Back Are A Swordsman's Greatest Shame," was good; however, the one during the credits was absolute bananas. The guy on the guitar was going ham; those strings must've been on fire. That track, "Zoro vs Mihawk," featuring the godly fingers of Marcin, is easily up there in the Top 5 score cues of this season's soundtrack. "Smells Like Butter, Soy Sauce And Meat" was another enjoyable track, especially the last section as The Baratie came into sight.

My initial rating for this episode was an eight out of ten, but a nine was more appropriate. It was top-tier: a popular opinion from the appearance of things, and rightfully so.

(853-word review) As the climax of the previous episode, this one was bound to surpass it, which it easily achieved, to no one's surprise, especially myself. It was understandably better and more exciting. Alexander Maniatis stepped up his acting even more, giving Kuro a fiercer presence and deeper depth, albeit in the category of capricious and extravagant villains, and there were two fight sequences/action, making up for the prior lack of that element.

Luffy vs. Kuro was undoubtedly the best because (one.) we get to see Kuro receive his comeuppance at (two.) the hands (and head) of Luffy, and (three.) a glimpse of a serious attitude, more than when he nearly lost his hat two episodes ago, which unsurprisingly stemmed from his crew/friends being in danger; that grin while pulling Kuro's arms away from each other was peak cinema – Luffy's a complete menace.

Zoro vs. Sham (whose actress is undeniably hot, especially as the character; her actual (pirate) outfit also looked great) and Buchi was a little weaker but still decent; it was even more riveting in some ways, thanks to the execution of the choreography, which was good, with Mackenyu being the highlight, as he's trained, in addition to that fight sequence serving as a moment for Zoro to shine. But, under the surface, some parts of it revolving around Sham and Buchi, relating to their characterizations, were silly, and the choreography itself would've benefited immensely from a tiny amount of improvement: their characters knocked it down a notch.

However, from what I've seen, those who disliked the first installment of this two-parter also felt similarly regarding this episode. I can't quite put myself in their shoes to comprehend where they're coming from, at least concerning its entirety. But there were two points that I agreed with, which were mentioned by some and likely felt by the majority of individuals who weren't fans of these two episodes.

Here are those points: Sham and Buchi were extremely underwhelming (but perhaps it's the same in the manga: there wasn't much that could be done to elevate their characters in live-action), and their quirky, argumentative dynamic was dull and awkward, whether the cause was the performances by Bianca Oosthuizen and Albert Pretorius or that those types of characterizations usually don't turn out well, particularly in live-action media, while Audrey Cymone's (Shimotsuki Kuina) acting was noticeably weak, following that same reality with Colton Osorio (Young Luffy) and Kevin Saula (Young Usopp), specifically the latter; however, Maximilian Lee Piazza's acting as the younger version of Zoro was better, not to mention there's still the young versions of Nami and Sanji to judge, who could end up being the best ones out of those actors.

Besides that, I'm going against the grain concerning how it seems the other way around for many people: this episode was better than the previous one. The final 10-12 minutes, or so, in particular, once the Syrup Village Arc concluded, were fantastic. But overall, there were many things to like, starting with the score cues; Sonya Belousova and Giona Ostinelli popped off.

These were the most notable ones: the one during Zoro and Kuina's fight, especially the energetic end of it as their battle concluded, the one when Zoro found out about her death/took her sword/as he was climbing up the well – the flute was excellent or whatever instrument that was; I've heard it before, and I know it's used frequently in Japanese or maybe Chinese music, and that score cue felt both reminiscent of their work on the first season of The Witcher and reminiscent of the music in Naruto/Naruto Shippuden (the climax, while Zoro made it up, was particularly fantastic); the one when the crew gets the ship (that middle part of the "I'm Gonna Be King Of The Pirates / We Are!" track is phenomenal), and the one when they sailed off, including the montage of everyone and how they're settling in, which could be that same track but a different part, and it sounded even more like the score in S1 of The Witcher.

The remaining things were specific scenes: Luffy throwing up on Helmeppo and his reaction, Helmeppo's look of resignation at Zoro's appearance, knowing he's about to get bullied again, then getting knocked out – his character, who's more so the butt of the joke (but lowkey HIM) has been a treat and portrayed fabulously by Aidan Scott; Zoro's backstory was excellent, not to mention the primary highlight of the episode; Luffy smiling at Nami after he won the bet of getting a ship; the scene at the end of the crew where Nami laughed, then Zoro followed was great – "This is what it's all about" is the truth! Thank you for saying it, Luffy! And we love it!

Honorable mentions: Celeste Loots (Kaya) gave a stand-out acting performance, going even further than initially, following in the footsteps of Alexander Maniatis. She was an unexpected highlight of these two episodes in that department. And the cinematography, most notably the lighting/sunlight and beauty of the ocean, looked incredible. Real locations and natural lighting win every time.

(576-word review) I can already imagine many viewers disliking this episode, both those who have read the manga (or watched the anime) and those who are new to this universe. Some may even go so far as to call it terrible, complaining about specific aspects, such as the camera angles (which I consider a knee-jerk reaction) because the fact that camerawork can be done in different ways and not the usual way must be so shocking, immediately chalking it up to poor directing/cinematography ('different' is good, even if you aren't always onboard with it; that's fine – but don't get overly exasperated about it), and so on. The camera work of the scene with Luffy and Zoro near the wanted posters was most certainly the worst offender; interestingly enough, that stood out to me in the opposite fashion – I thought it was great.

While this was the weakest episode, that is not to suggest it wasn't good or a noticeable drop compared to the first two episodes, as some have expressed. If your main complaint, or one of them, was that it was boring, it's because it was the first episode of a two-parter. And, 90% of the time, the first half in these scenarios is the weakest. That said, an adequate job was done in making it enjoyable, even though this section in the manga has been stated to be poor overall.

99% of the help with that was probably given through the character moments – that appeared to be the most dominant focus here, and it was a success. All of the interactions involving the "Not a crew" crew were fantastic, as they should be, from the dinner scene (Iñaki Godoy was Luffy to the fullest there, outdoing himself) to Nami and Kaya's conversation/the kitchen scene with Usopp (in addition to his involvement in others), particularly the smaller snippets between Luffy, Zoro, and Nami.

Buggy's interaction with Arlong was also beneficial and the best part of this episode. That was an important scene for two reasons: (one.) it changed the playing field established previously, where Buggy is seemingly a top-dog figure, only for the subtlety of that to crumble down so quickly due to Arlong's introduction, and (two.) through that alone, rearranged the board or interfered with the process of its establishment as the season is merely three episodes in, effectively updating the stage and getting the point across that he's a threat, plus the score cue was good, as were the score cues during the ship reveal and after Kuro killed Merry.

Additionally, Jacob Gibson has already embodied the character of Usopp, who, despite not being as charismatic as Luffy, whether true to the characters or not, you can tell Jacob must be in real life, not to mention charming, since that subtle impression also adds to the portrayal/performance. The only issue I have is the ineffectiveness of the end of the backstory/flashback plot thread, mainly because the kid-version actor wasn't good, and Usopp's mother died too abruptly, adding a comedic tone.

Also, Alexander Maniatis played Kuro superbly, with the appropriate blend of properness but with that ominous undertone beneath the mask of politeness bleeding through the sheer appearance of his complete decorum, as if he were transferred straight from the manga. Everyone else who partook in bringing him to life and the work they put in, from costume design to hair styling, did an excellent job, and Celeste Loots played her character well.

(480-word review) This was an excellent follow-up to the series premiere. The past (with Luffy and Shanks) and present (with the Straw Hat Crew), as well as the little less prominent focus on the Marines/Garp/Koby, were equally engaging and enjoyable. Both episodes worked well together; the pacing and structure are consistent and complementary, synergizing perfectly.

I was more interested and invested in everything with Luffy, Zoro, and Nami in the premiere, while the stuff in the past was less so – so it's a good sign here that it's reached the benchmark that our three main characters have set individually, partially together, and collectively. And, unexpectedly, as I would have thought the opposite, that portion with Luffy and Shanks was the most enjoyable for me, particularly their final scene; that score cue was phenomenal – Sonya Belousova and Giona Ostinelli are superb and masters of their craft.

Jeff Ward's performance was an anticipated highlight and episode-stealer – well, let's be honest, show-stealer, since he'll surely be up there, potentially at the very top, by the end of the season: easily remembered when looking back on it in the far future. While Steven John Ward may upstage or rival him, his position at the top is unquestionably secure.

Furthermore, Peter Gadiot fashioned himself into the role of Shanks in this episode: something in limbo previously. But he's already made an impression on me, requiring only a slight amount more screen time to perform his magic, reinforcing the now-confirmed but uncommon notion that he's excellent in this role, despite the early, initial doubts and skepticism concerning that.

Another plus was the VFX and CGI. The depiction of Buggy's powers looked well done: not too outlandish in uncanny territory, while the more prominent usage of Luffy's stretchy powers, compared to what we saw in the premiere, was the same way, and the CGI of the sea monster looked even better – both the design itself and its appearance, which didn't look fake in the sense of looking poorly-done. I was particularly taken with the visual effects of the splashing water as it descended. That stood out for some reason. And the last shot of the ocean and sunset during that was stunning.

My only criticisms were Zoro's quick loyalty and belief in Luffy (there was little lead-up, though you can attribute it to the possibility that he was drawn in and enticed by Luffy's carefree attitude and relentless confidence) and some instances of Emily Rudd's acting/line delivery that seemed forced; it was as if she wasn't uttering the words all the way/following through with the utterance. If it was a deliberate choice, I've only considered one explanation, and it pertains to Nami's ulterior motivations, which means she's also putting on a front: being "fake," hence the forcefulness of the line delivery at times. It could be a case of inexperience with the character portrayal currently.

(840-word review) This appears to be a commonly held opinion, and I shared it: the first half, or everything with Luffy, Koby, and Alvida, was a difficult start, even to "get through." It primarily concerned the acting of all three characters by Iñaki Godoy, Morgan Davies, and Ilia Isorelýs Paulino, with Iñaki's acting requiring some immediate adjustment, same with Morgan's acting (particularly the voice/accent, including the line delivery) to an extent – while Luffy and Koby's interactions had a bit of a whiplash, partially stemming from that, in addition to the characters themselves and their characterizations – and most notably, Ilia's acting, which was the most effective at throwing you for a loop; her and Morgan were the most distracting as far as that's concerned. You can ascertain what I'm insinuating. While Iñaki only required the continual exposure of the entire episode.

Fortunately, as the episode continued past that point, it became better and better, steadily improving. It spiked once Zoro appeared, who effortlessly stole the show for a variety of reasons, including Mackenyu's dominating presence, the fight choreography and his execution of it, and the subtle comedic tones at moments when Zoro was on-screen. Then Nami appeared – fantastic stuff; I liked the progression of her, Luffy, Zoro, and their arrival at the same place and the lead-up to them being together: a Luffy-proclaimed crew. But they're "not a crew/not together." Mackenyu and Emily Rudd, especially him, were the most distinctive highlights; all three characters, when together, stole the show collectively, aided by a palpable and genuine dynamic filled with chemistry that Luffy and Koby lacked.

Other aspects, such as the world-building and production value, were, understandably, prominently featured, as this world is vast, detailed, and particular; it was well-depicted, but I'm looking forward to the rest of the season for more of that aspect to see its overall scope, not because it wasn't good in this episode (it was), but because it can be better, and I'm sure it improves throughout. That's one reason to want another season: a larger budget and a better understanding of how to improve on many components through trial and error in this one by everyone involved with all facets of this show's development, utilizing the experience and knowledge gained here.

Going deeper into that, the set design stood out, namely the spaciousness, which I appreciated, probably more than I should have because I have no idea why. It may be summed up by saying it looks appealing; additionally, it may represent the magnitude of the entire world itself to an extent. Their environment-related details were notable, such as Helmeppo's self-portrait, the statue, paintings, the square sections of the ceiling, and the thing on the wall showing several axes in Axe-Hand Morgan's office. That gave the environments life, giving them identities and the impression that they were actual characters. You can see that a lot of thought and care went into it.

Specific things that were effective for me and great: (1.) the direction/editing regarding the close-up shots on faces – primarily the close-up shots on eyes (e.g., Mr. 7 and Zoro's at the beginning of their fight sequence) , the telescope shot of Nami, the split-screen one, akin to Western-genre films and also manga panels, before the fight sequence against Axe-Hand Morgan kicked off (all that was missing was the starting pistol shot signaling to begin), and the rocky (hand-held...?) camerawork in the scene of Garp and Bogard – (2.) the score, which was unsurprisingly a hit, especially the one when the crew set sail, aside from the "Wealth Fame Power" track.

Followed by various funny moments: "I even have to paint her toenails," Luffy slapping Koby (for "You being dumb"), "A bottle for me, and one for my friend: he's had a rough day," "You stupid, stupid girl," – Helmeppo's laugh, the scene of him naked, enjoying his reflection in the mirror while swinging Zoro's sword, then the majestic arrival of Zoro, and his final appearance, especially Luffy and Zoro laughing at his new haircut, courtesy of Zoro; his entire character and Aidan Scott's performance was phenomenal, forming the desire to want more of him – "Get lost. I am...lost," and finally, Jeff Ward's performance, which is already somewhat stealing the show with so little screen time; Buggy will surely be a highlight of this season.

Zoro (Mackenyu), Helmeppo (Aidan Scott), Nami (Emily Rudd), and Buggy (Jeff Ward), along with the scenes of the crew together, where the fun began, were the ultimate show-stealers. I suspect Iñaki Godoy, who was decent despite the outstanding competition, will achieve that level during the season as he settles into the part and grows accustomed to it, making the character his and as effective as possible. There's undeniable heart at work – already in the series premiere, and that's paving the way for a larger-scale, likely successful execution of that, on top of the feeling of pure, genuine fun that took over the screen once our three central characters teamed up; little do they know what awaits them.

(434-word review) My main criticism, apart from not caring passionately about pretty much anything (and, even though this is frequently the case for me with any show/season/film I watch to some degree, it links with my main criticism), was how many things were going on. Starting with the introduction of new characters, Kong Pak and Yan Mi, who were one-note, whose plot lines demanded too much in terms of believability concerning significant things: believing his close relationship with Li Yong for maximum effect at the end, despite the lackluster establishment of that, and believing Ah Sahm would make such a drastic action/choice because of Yan Mi's existence, though the culmination is played off as being because of Mai Ling, the initial decision and lead-up to that revolved around Yan Mi – on top of plot lines that were unappealing and deaths that were intended to be impactful; only one accomplished that somewhat.

I've addressed it several times in my episode reviews this season: too many plot threads, not to mention their overall structure and distribution of the focus was often hectic, which was likely a result of that. I know that's probably due to the show's creator(s)/writers (etc.) wanting to go all-in, and grandly, following the show's pick-up renewal after its cancellation – ambitious minds were clearly at work, working hard, and that's understandable; sadly, the execution was spoiled by predictable clutter.

This season was more story-driven than the previous two; that helped what I mentioned in the first paragraph stand out even more. There was also less emphasis on the martial arts side of things, which was of greater significance in the first season; an increase in story substance began in the second season and was at an all-time high here. And it made other aspects shine a lot more than they already did, most notably the production value/cinematography in this case (which extended into gory imagery because there were moments where that element was more visually visceral than previously done) compared to the first two seasons – particularly the second season because it was a step-up in that specific area after the first. The results of the switch to MAX (HBO Max) are evident.

I've never been as invested in this show as other people are and have been. It's a show that gets the job done without much hassle, and that's all that matters; I don't care for most of the characters or plot lines. This was especially noticeable this season; it was a step back for me – the weakest one. My order of the seasons would be 1>2>3 or 2>1>3.

(568-word review) This season was low for me, appeal-wise. It's generally been lackluster, not to mention that too much was going on, which has resulted in clutter. But this was an excellent finale, and it was, without a doubt, the best episode of the season. While one of the reasons (ONE, as I know the main reason was Ah Sahm never telling Young Jun that Mai Ling is his sister) leading up to the most significant story element here of Ah Sahm vs. Young Jun and Hong/the Hop Wei, as in him and Yan Mi, was ridiculous, that's in the past; plus, the conclusion brought some actual excitement to this season.

Leaving aside Ah Toy's vengeance on Strickland, Leary's return to the driver's seat of short-term gain (getting immediate jobs for Irishmen, contrary to Strickland's teachings), with slightly more political intelligence and confidence from those teachings, the set-up for Officer Lee's re-emergence – and Li Yong's rise to some form of leadership (now having EX-Long Zii members move on from the tong and choosing to follow him), plus Ah Sahm and Mai Ling's reunion at the end/and likely subsequent on-the-same-side allyship, as those conclusions/developments aren't as compelling, my other takeaway was what occurred with Chao and another character at the end. That was more impactful than the climax of the internal conflict within the Hop Wei. If a fourth season happens, there's a good chance that Chao's predicament is permanent, and that would suck; we can all agree on that.

However, at the risk of inciting hope, I've considered two possible routes, diverging from that outcome: Yan Mi could somehow (and predictably) get off the train and get back to the railway platform quick enough to, again, SOMEHOW save him or (b.) Lee followed her there, preceded/potentially set up by his scene with Agent Mosley at the police station – his belief that the tongs could tie up that loose end, meaning he's nearby, saw what went down, and will come swooping in, saving Chao a second time.

Minor observations: (one.) Bill's appearance right behind Leary at Strickland's place was a classic case of teleportation; (two.) the "pay-off" of the Buckley-Catherine subplot, with her intention being Mayor Blake's estate, as Buckley is its custodian (which was mentioned in the second episode), wasn't worthwhile, though Stewart Gumm's (his assistant) involvement, especially his relationship with Catherine, was unexpected, in the style of typical 40s/50s-films' storylines; (three.) the one-inch punch by Ah Sahm was goofy, despite the Bruce Lee homage, and winning that easily (I'm not saying he should've been losing) against Hong and Young Jun was extreme.

This counts as both a season finale and a series finale. Everything felt conclusive and had a resolution, though some plot threads, particularly Zing's reappearance and Chao's status, were ambiguously open-ended. Another season would walk the balance between unnecessary/too much and successful, given how the story and plot lines are stretched thin, especially now. Most viewers still want at least one more; should that happen, I think it should end there – if only to give the show a more concrete ending on all fronts. However, if this is the final episode, it is adequate.

Now it's time, fingers crossed, for greener pastures, TV show-wise, with Netflix's One Piece premiering tomorrow. I already want today to be Thursday; I want it to deliver and stick the landing. THE ONE PIECE IS REAL!

(432-word review) My interest/engagement in this season has dwindled by this point, not that it was incredibly high to begin with, but the beginning was more enjoyable. Now, it's just a case of standing on the sidelines and watching it fizzle away; practically nothing is compelling anymore.

I never cared about Hong and Marcel's relationship/that plot line, which ended with this episode (and Hong's physical confrontation with Graham (the cop) was contrived: conflict for the sake of conflict) – but there could be another scene or two in the finale. Its insignificant irrelevance, apparent from the get-go, was unsurprisingly solidified at the end. Who'd have guessed? Whatever glimmer of hope for a worthwhile pay-off that may have existed has been squandered. It was so dull and reeked of desire to give Hong something other than being the quirky, comedic relief character. LGBTQIA+ (or LGBTQ+ – whichever term is most acceptable) representation isn't a miraculous stand-in for an ineffectual plotline. Marcel's song was good, though; Telly Leung is a talented singer with a great voice.

I also never cared about Lai's character, which is required for her death to land. The scenes leading up to it from the previous two episodes, particularly the questionable logic (or lack thereof) surrounding them, reinforce the lack of effect, as stated in my reviews of those episodes. But, at the very least, Father Jun's death at the intentional but understandably reluctant hand of Young Jun went a little beyond, as far as the intended landing/success is concerned.

And the whole Yan Mi and Ah Sahm thing is ludicrous. He's going against Young Jun and the tong for her so rapidly, partially under the guise of never belonging in the Hop Wei – and now "coming to his senses," led by her ostensibly flawlessly perfect existence being the catalyst. It's ridiculous. This would've possessed the necessary believability (though still dubious) if the love interest in this context was Penelope Blake, leading me to wonder if the possibility of this story element, or something similar, was brought to consciousness before this season, followed by Joanna Vanderham having scheduling conflicts, resulting in the creation of Yan Mi's character.

Despite the lower investment, this episode was enjoyable and was one of the better ones of the season's second half. Leary was the "savior," blowing up the bridge (by the way, that explosion looked great; it must've been practical to some extent), and most importantly, the final fight sequence; the last kill was gnarly – it may also be the goriest depiction of that type of imagery in the entire show: it's undeniably up there.

(641-word review) Judging from the general reaction, I was "supposed" to think this was incredibly intense or yet another phenomenal episode, or that was likely – if you put shows on a pedestal and convince yourself it's so great, as many people unmistakably do with this show, denying that it's serviceable entertainment at best, 99% of the time. Reality had different plans. This was worse than the previous episode. It seems like this season is gradually fizzling out, on top of being rushed now because of too many plotlines/plot threads and too much focus on the wrong ones.

We have Kong Pak, whose purpose was whispering in Li Yong's ear 24/7, whose death allows Li Yong to enter his depressed 'What do I do now?' phase, wrapped in some weak attempt of characterization of being close to him, which happens to be vital components of what happens in this episode – by the way, their fight sequence's choreography, and or the way it was filmed/edited, was a little underwhelming – so naturally, it must be impactful and layered: a proper lead-up to it and development of their supposed closeness, right? Wrong.

While having him in the show since the beginning would've helped immensely, accomplishing the desired effect through there being layers to his character and Li Yong's, especially together, in merely one season, could've still been done.

Instead, we get under-development to the point where it's shocking and unbelievable that the conclusion and encompassing nature were presented to be this significant, with some friendly sparring matches expected to fill in the gaps, followed by a repeat of the same conversations but in different forms; however, even if the writers were more imaginative, there would still be the issue I've continuously brought up: there's too much ambition going on here, much like with Mai Ling, ironically – trying to bite off more than can/should be chewed. Speaking of her, while her actions relate to Li Yong's current mental and emotional state, let's not pretend that Kong Pak's death has nothing to do with it; it's possibly the main reason.

And, despite many viewers rooting for Bill against Atwood – probably because (1.) Atwood is a new character and a hard-head, easy to dislike, and (2.) Bill has been on the show since the beginning; most people are accustomed to him, possibly attached, and it stands to reason that the writers were counting on that, wanting you to be on Bill's side – I wasn't. Atwood was in the right, not to mention the way Neels Clasen plays the character and delivers his lines is entertaining and slightly charismatic; he has a magnetic presence.

In other news, it's Part Two of Lai's Contrived Adventures, adding to the dubious logic of Lai and how she knew where Strickland lived (or where he'd be and subsequently followed him). What occurred this time, you wonder? She has infiltrated his cleaning crew. Isn't this amazing stuff? Whatever reasoning one may come up with, whether it's the claim that Strickland regards the Asian people working for him as appearing the same, generally speaking, as I'm referring to this entire plot thread, or something else, this isn't entirely logical. What about the rest of the servants, who must not be as alert and aware of everyone and everything in the building as you'd expect, especially regarding themselves, given Lai's successful infiltration, as one of them, which is questionable?

Last but not least, some of Harrison's (Nicholas Pauling) lines: "A lot less if I let those boys go," "Sorry, Bill," and "I can't." – sounded like Shay Cormac from Assassin's Creed Rogue. His accent has been inconsistent, though not as awful as that of Killy Donahue (Morné Visser). Because Shay's voice actor isn't Irish, and his accent was widely panned, the takeaway from the similar-sounding accents must be along the same lines.

(354-word review) There is far too much going on in this season, which I always perceived, but it's now even more apparent. There are three episodes left, and there is more clutter from every angle than ever before, not to mention a lack of structure/development/screen time; having too many plotlines and off-shoot plot threads inside them makes it more difficult. That was heightened by the fact that this episode was a follow-up to the previous two, which were the greatest of the season; a big reason for that was putting most of the plotlines on the back burner, thus allowing a stronger, more intimate focus on only a few, giving breathing room and not cutting to another scene every five seconds – that's what this one and the other episodes besides the previous two have done to varying extents.

Now, Ming Yu, a new character, has also been introduced. Such a thing had to be done, and the near end of the season was ideal; it makes so much sense. The purpose was likely to put Ah Toy and Mai Ling in the same room so that Ah Toy could accept the wedding invitation; of course, Ming Yu's return is likely, for disposal. Even if their story arc is short, introducing someone fresh at this point shows a little too much ambition. Another element was that Lai somehow followed Strickland; not only does this scene appear unexpectedly, but knowing where he would be, whether that final place or anywhere, then being followed there demands suspending your disbelief.

The scenes with Father Jun, which were effective, stood out the most. I still think his return was unnecessary, but going that route with his character is daring, on top of serving as some extra set-up to the inevitable blow-up between Young Jun and Ah Sahm by being yet another thing that's greatly straining their relationship, slowly but effectively boiling the pot over – while the ending increased interest in where that's going; Jason Tobin's acting in that closing scene was unquestionably superb. Leary's speech to the other Irishmen, alongside his conversation with Ah Sahm, were both reasonably good.