Review by Andrew Bloom

The Walking Dead: Season 11

11x22 Faith

[6.6/10] Is it just me or has The Walking Dead felt kind of dumbed down in its final frame? I don’t know if I have the perfect way to explain it. As I’ve mentioned before, TWD was most often in the realm of “kinda dumb show that thinks it’s smart,” but by gum, they were trying. Now it seems like the show’s content to be simplified (thematically at least) as it lurches toward an ending that I’m struggling to muster any excitement for.

This episode is primarily a referendum on Negan’s redemption. Between Judith’s opening spiel, Ezekiel talking about the dearly departed Benjamin (whom I’d totally forgotten about), and Eugene obliquely referencing his time as the Saviors’ scientist, there’s reminders of where Negan started, regardless of where things are now. The central question here, then, is if this whole redemption thing is an act and if he’ll throw the rest of our heroes under the bus to save his wife.

That’s not bad in principle. But I just never bought it as a real possibility. The show more or less does the work to show us why Negan might fall. He loves his wife and wants to protect his future child. It wouldn’t just be bargain basement malevolent Negan again. He’d have a justification, however self-focused it would be. But on a practical level, the announcement of future projects made me skeptical that the show would go through with it. And more to the point, Negan had most of his redemption off screen during the time jump, and Annie is barely a character. So while we can understand, in principle of course, why he’d care so much about protecting his wife, she’s mostly been a prop to this point, so it doesn’t carry the emotional weight of if he were trying to protect, say, Judith, whom we’ve seen him build an actual bond with over time.

More to the point we just got to Outpost 22. Nobody here is a character yet. The show tries to turn the warden into a Negan Jr., with the idea that this scenario is meant to feel like Negan challenging a younger version of himself, to extend the metaphor. But he’s a pale imitation at best, spouting bland speeches about leadership with none of Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s flair or pizzazz. He’s a meaningless villain, caricatured and unmemorable, which makes it hard to care about him as an opponent.

The same goes for the prison guard who wants a transfer out of Outpost 22, and ultimately turns on his superiors. Sure, in theory someone responsible for maintaining this slanted version of law and order deciding it’s morally wrong and acting on that conviction is a big deal. But we barely know this guy. The writers try to give him a little shading, but there’s only so much you can do in a handful of short scenes. So much here feels rushed and unsatisfying given how little time is spent developing these situations and the people who populate them.

I’m hard-pressed to give a damn about much else in this episode either. It’s nice to see Dan Fogler’s Luke again (with his crush in tow) before the end of the series. Frankly, I’d kind of thought he’d been quietly written off given the actor's other commitments, and he was one of the better members of the new class that showed up post time-jump, so it’s pleasant to have a coda with him. But like a lot of the non-Negan bits in the episode, it feels like piece-moving before the big bang rather than anything that really advances the story. The fact that Oceanside has fallen, and Aaron’s crew has to pretend to be Walkers to avoid the roving Commonwealth patrols is fine, but leaves little impression.

I’m also nonplussed by the trial of Eugene. The idea of them trying to start a revolution through the public case in a Kangaroo court seems an odd plan to begin with. The end result is a lot of unmoving speeches full of the usual bromides. In the end, I appreciate that Eugene is essentially directing his address, which is nominally to “the court”, to Mercer, since he’s the real key. But the scenes are boring, and turning this show into a stock staid courtroom drama makes for an odd fit. That said, “Mercer” telling Eugene that it’s time to go fuck some shit up is the most firstpump-worthy scene the show’s had in a while, so credit where it’s due.

The bit with the original crew of the survivors hunting for the kids isn’t much better. Them returning to Alexandria to protect their children should feel momentous and emotional. And by god, they try. But it plays like a side dish to the Negan business, and way too easy to have any real tension. I appreciate the fact that they’re not leaving the tender business of raising a child in the zombie apocalypse alone. But Carol and Maggie’s conversation is redundant of the one they had in the last episode, and the writing’s just not very good. It’s full of trite cliches and observations, and despite my previous attachment to Maggie and Glen, Herschel has likewise mostly been a prop, so his rescue doesn’t stir much emotion either.

The business with Negan at the end at least has some verve. As always on The Walking Dead, even when the writing isn’t brilliant, Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s performance can elevate the material. Him ready to martyr himself for the cause, only to go mad when he sees someone threatening the person he loves like he threatened Glen and Abraham has some poetry to it. Again, the execution is a bit rote and undermotivated. But you can see the good guys protecting Annie and Negan with their bodies, and the soldiers (or at least, a soldier) deciding this is a bridge too far. So it’s sound as an idea, even if the show hasn’t adequately built to it. As a tonic to the most iconic Negan scene, there’s merit, which helps paper over some of the narrative shortcuts to get there.

Overall, TWD continues not to wow me as we head into the final two episodes, which is a little sad. Two big installments remain, but everything here feels like a typical day at the office for the series, without the extra excitement or sense of an impending epic conclusion that the pulpy show suggested would be in the offing. It makes me concerned that we’re not going to get much in the way of a definitive conclusion, or even semicolon on the end of the mainline series -- just a “to be continued in the spinoffs” sort of ending. But hopefully they prove me wrong.

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