[7.3/10] The beauty of The Walking Dead was supposed to be that the show would never have to rebuild, just reload. People die in zombie shows, and more survivors are always wandering in, so as actors quit or characters reach their natural endpoints, you can just shuffle the old ones off and shuffle the new ones in. Presto change-o -- your show can go on forever.
Except that the Ship of Theseus that is The Walking Dead feels like it’s slowly but surely taking on water. I was no fan of Rick Grimes by the time the show bid adieu to him, but in just a few seasons, we’ve lost him, Carl, Glen, Maggie, Sasha, Abraham, Morgan, Dwight, and countless less significant but still noteworthy characters along the way as well. Some of these characters are still alive, and some of these actors could come back, but no matter how you slice it, there’s been a ton of attrition at the core of the show fairly quickly, and it’s starting to take its toll.
Because I have to be honest, there’s fewer and fewer character whom I genuinely care about on this show. We’re down to two regular characters who’ve been with the show since the beginning, one more who’s been with the show since season 3, and a few more who’ve been with it since season 4. (I don’t really count Judith, since she’s mostly been an adorable prop up until now.) For a show with as broad and wide a cast as The Walking Dead usually sports, it means there’s a lot of new faces, many of whom took a backseat to other characters for a long time, meaning they have been as featured or developed over the years.
When you put the original characters together, this show can still be great. There is so much history between Carol and Daryl, that it makes every quiet moment they share the screen together weighted with meaning. Their storyline in “Stradivarius” is fairly paint by numbers at the end of the day. Carol wants Daryl to go with Henry to Hilltop, nominally for the boy’s protection but really so that she can dredge her best friend up from his taciturn funk and isolation. And Daryl resists and deflects, but when seeing pieces of himself and his confidante in Henry, is silently moved to go along and forgo his solitude for a while.
But the predictability of it doesn't take away from the force of the storyline. It doesn't hurt that Melissa McBride and Norman Reedus continue to be two of the show’s better performers, so that a small smile from Carol, or Daryl’s grumbled acceptance speaks louder than the show’s typically overwritten monologues are capable of. It also doesn't hurt that the script mostly foregoes those sorts of florid conversations here, with short but freighted exchanges between Daryl and Carol carrying the day.
It’s clear that Daryl was affected by Rick’s would-be death, that he’s isolated himself in the easy but unhealthy ways he used to know. It’s clear that Carol is worried about her dearest friend suffering, and how it’s her turn to try to lift him up. And it’s clear that the existence of Henry, the need to look after Carol’s child and the chance to help others and find camaraderie again, moves Daryl just enough. Sure, putting a dog at risk is pretty emotionally manipulative on the part of the show, but even that moment is given added meaning given the history we know and have witnessed between these two characters.
Michonne is one of the few left standing who can boast that long of a history and that much prominence on the show. For seasons, I dreamed about the show capitalizing on Danai Gurira’s talents and letting her command a more central role on the series. But now the show is sticking with the quintet of newbies who are supposed to replenish the show’s roster, and even she can’t lift them up out of their early, stock mediocrity.
I don’t mean to malign them that badly. Luke’s little monologue about the importance of art to civilization is specious in its logic, but well-written and endearing. And most of the characters aren’t bad, just pretty flat in the early going, with the show clearly bending over backwards to try to make us care about them without giving us a good enough reason to do so yet.
Really, only the schtick with Magna is grating. I get the same vibe with her that I did with Olivia Wilde’s character, “Thirteen”, on House M.D. She too was a new addition to the cast whom the show clearly wanted to emphasize as special and unique and different, in a way that quickly felt annoying. Magna’s “I put a tough front, but then I break down when I see my friend in the clunkily-established paisley shirt I used to hate” routine is hacky and stock.
The point is supposed to be the hardened Michonne learning to trust and see herself in these people again. She knows what it is to lose, and to be a part of a small group whom you trust , and these people are supposed to remind her of that and help bring her back to the person she was before Rick died. But that isn’t enough to make me interested in these people yet, and Michonne’s transition was so abrupt from our perspective that it’s hard not to have her gradual transition back feel too easy.
Beyond that, the episode is just filled with character whom it’s hard to muster up much care or concern about. Jesus has never been one of my favorite characters on the show, and while his “I don’t want to be leader shtick” is well-established, it doesn't move me. Aaron’s another character who’s been underdeveloped and underwhelming, so his boyfight and friendly relationship with Jesus doesn't do much to endear me to either of them. And Tara’s been ill-served by the show for a while now, with her sojourn to Oceanside the last time she really got the spotlight and was able to show off what the character’s capable of, while here she’s reduced to the sleeve-tugging second in command.
There’s still talent on this show, and interesting characters left in the mix. But the show’s lost a lot of talent and characters it had invested an awful lot of time and development is. If The Walking Dead wanted to become “The Michonne, Carol, and Daryl Show”, I would be there with bells on. But it’s an ensemble, and as the attrition sets in, more and more the show seems to scrambling to introduce new characters worthy of our appreciation or elevate older characters into places of prominence. It’s a noble aim, one informed by real world contracts more than creative decisions, but the results are discouraging in the early days of this new phase of the show, with few leading indicators to suggest things might get better.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParent2018-11-21T03:18:08Z
[7.3/10] The beauty of The Walking Dead was supposed to be that the show would never have to rebuild, just reload. People die in zombie shows, and more survivors are always wandering in, so as actors quit or characters reach their natural endpoints, you can just shuffle the old ones off and shuffle the new ones in. Presto change-o -- your show can go on forever.
Except that the Ship of Theseus that is The Walking Dead feels like it’s slowly but surely taking on water. I was no fan of Rick Grimes by the time the show bid adieu to him, but in just a few seasons, we’ve lost him, Carl, Glen, Maggie, Sasha, Abraham, Morgan, Dwight, and countless less significant but still noteworthy characters along the way as well. Some of these characters are still alive, and some of these actors could come back, but no matter how you slice it, there’s been a ton of attrition at the core of the show fairly quickly, and it’s starting to take its toll.
Because I have to be honest, there’s fewer and fewer character whom I genuinely care about on this show. We’re down to two regular characters who’ve been with the show since the beginning, one more who’s been with the show since season 3, and a few more who’ve been with it since season 4. (I don’t really count Judith, since she’s mostly been an adorable prop up until now.) For a show with as broad and wide a cast as The Walking Dead usually sports, it means there’s a lot of new faces, many of whom took a backseat to other characters for a long time, meaning they have been as featured or developed over the years.
When you put the original characters together, this show can still be great. There is so much history between Carol and Daryl, that it makes every quiet moment they share the screen together weighted with meaning. Their storyline in “Stradivarius” is fairly paint by numbers at the end of the day. Carol wants Daryl to go with Henry to Hilltop, nominally for the boy’s protection but really so that she can dredge her best friend up from his taciturn funk and isolation. And Daryl resists and deflects, but when seeing pieces of himself and his confidante in Henry, is silently moved to go along and forgo his solitude for a while.
But the predictability of it doesn't take away from the force of the storyline. It doesn't hurt that Melissa McBride and Norman Reedus continue to be two of the show’s better performers, so that a small smile from Carol, or Daryl’s grumbled acceptance speaks louder than the show’s typically overwritten monologues are capable of. It also doesn't hurt that the script mostly foregoes those sorts of florid conversations here, with short but freighted exchanges between Daryl and Carol carrying the day.
It’s clear that Daryl was affected by Rick’s would-be death, that he’s isolated himself in the easy but unhealthy ways he used to know. It’s clear that Carol is worried about her dearest friend suffering, and how it’s her turn to try to lift him up. And it’s clear that the existence of Henry, the need to look after Carol’s child and the chance to help others and find camaraderie again, moves Daryl just enough. Sure, putting a dog at risk is pretty emotionally manipulative on the part of the show, but even that moment is given added meaning given the history we know and have witnessed between these two characters.
Michonne is one of the few left standing who can boast that long of a history and that much prominence on the show. For seasons, I dreamed about the show capitalizing on Danai Gurira’s talents and letting her command a more central role on the series. But now the show is sticking with the quintet of newbies who are supposed to replenish the show’s roster, and even she can’t lift them up out of their early, stock mediocrity.
I don’t mean to malign them that badly. Luke’s little monologue about the importance of art to civilization is specious in its logic, but well-written and endearing. And most of the characters aren’t bad, just pretty flat in the early going, with the show clearly bending over backwards to try to make us care about them without giving us a good enough reason to do so yet.
Really, only the schtick with Magna is grating. I get the same vibe with her that I did with Olivia Wilde’s character, “Thirteen”, on House M.D. She too was a new addition to the cast whom the show clearly wanted to emphasize as special and unique and different, in a way that quickly felt annoying. Magna’s “I put a tough front, but then I break down when I see my friend in the clunkily-established paisley shirt I used to hate” routine is hacky and stock.
The point is supposed to be the hardened Michonne learning to trust and see herself in these people again. She knows what it is to lose, and to be a part of a small group whom you trust , and these people are supposed to remind her of that and help bring her back to the person she was before Rick died. But that isn’t enough to make me interested in these people yet, and Michonne’s transition was so abrupt from our perspective that it’s hard not to have her gradual transition back feel too easy.
Beyond that, the episode is just filled with character whom it’s hard to muster up much care or concern about. Jesus has never been one of my favorite characters on the show, and while his “I don’t want to be leader shtick” is well-established, it doesn't move me. Aaron’s another character who’s been underdeveloped and underwhelming, so his boyfight and friendly relationship with Jesus doesn't do much to endear me to either of them. And Tara’s been ill-served by the show for a while now, with her sojourn to Oceanside the last time she really got the spotlight and was able to show off what the character’s capable of, while here she’s reduced to the sleeve-tugging second in command.
There’s still talent on this show, and interesting characters left in the mix. But the show’s lost a lot of talent and characters it had invested an awful lot of time and development is. If The Walking Dead wanted to become “The Michonne, Carol, and Daryl Show”, I would be there with bells on. But it’s an ensemble, and as the attrition sets in, more and more the show seems to scrambling to introduce new characters worthy of our appreciation or elevate older characters into places of prominence. It’s a noble aim, one informed by real world contracts more than creative decisions, but the results are discouraging in the early days of this new phase of the show, with few leading indicators to suggest things might get better.