Half the town stands vigil, half the town does business. Could it be any other way in Deadwood.
The Bullocks sit by their son's side. Tom Nuttal drinks himself into a guilty stupor. Steve, of course, blames the black men in town. Trixie finds herself returning to her old haunts during the crisis. And various other members of the town stand outside the doc's cabin waiting for word.
But Al has business to transact. The Dakotas are threatening to steamroll them, and he still needs to deal with Miss Isringhausen and her Pinkerton backing, so he cannot stop to concern himself with an accident to a young boy. He brings in Silas to stand witness to Miss Isringhausen's signature (and catches her trying to fake it), and then brings in Star to school Silas on the movers and shakers of Montana to fool Commissioner Jarry from Yankton into thinking there's legitimately a competing offer for annexation.
In better times, it would be an enjoyable caper. Al is rarely so fun as when he's concocting a scheme and putting it into action. He's everything Frank Underwood is meant to be, but ten times as competent and entertaining. The way the easily susceptible Jarry plays right into Al's hands, and Al gets all the details right is enjoyable.
But then there's the other half of the episode, the one consumed with a dying young boy. The scenes of Seth and Martha at William's bedside are heartbreaking. There has been a distance, a remove between them since Martha arrived in Deadwood, and yet at this moment of immense grief, they are a family in an unquestioned manner. Martha talks about Seth as "your father" when speaking to William. Seth opens himself up to his son, trying to speak of his fondness for the boy in this time of grief. It's a very stark scene, with no score and little lighting, instead, simply the plain, unvarnished moment of two parents and their child, being forced to say goodbye.
And yet halfway across town, Manuel lives. That's as harsh a statement that this show could make about the dice roll that is life in Deadwood. A man who kills his own brother can be saved, even if Doc Cochran himself seems to lament the possibility, but a little boy cannot. There is a tragedy and unfairness to it that casts a shadow in this already dark episode.
Meanwhile, Fields and Hostetler know they'll be blamed and hightail it out of town. Puzzlingly, they conclude that if they just catch the horse that got loose, and bring it back to down and make amends, they'll be allowed to leave. I'm not sure what the idea is here. I mean, it seems clear that given how Fields was tarred for literally doing nothing, that there'll be no amends offered given what happened, but maybe there's something I'm missing.
Still, the episode contrast the grand with the personal. Al is, no matter what else happens, concerned with the prosperity and continued independence and success of the camp (not to mention his own interests on that front). Even when there is tragedy in the town, he knows that life goes on and he will conspire with Merrick and Adams and whomever else he needs to in order to get done what needs doing, Bullock or no Bullock. Seth, for his part, is not angry, as I predicted; he is for the moment wholly removed from his duties as sheriff or townsperson. For one day, at least, he is simply a father, a title he didn't necessarily intend on, but one that becomes him, and which meets an awful end here. Al Swearengen is the father of a town and secures that once more here. Seth Bullock is simply the father of a boy, and he is not so fortunate in trying to hold onto what he had.
This was by far & away the worst episode of the 1st 10 episodes. Other than that, I absolutely love this show. Do yourself a favor and watch this show.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParent2016-07-25T02:38:43Z
Half the town stands vigil, half the town does business. Could it be any other way in Deadwood.
The Bullocks sit by their son's side. Tom Nuttal drinks himself into a guilty stupor. Steve, of course, blames the black men in town. Trixie finds herself returning to her old haunts during the crisis. And various other members of the town stand outside the doc's cabin waiting for word.
But Al has business to transact. The Dakotas are threatening to steamroll them, and he still needs to deal with Miss Isringhausen and her Pinkerton backing, so he cannot stop to concern himself with an accident to a young boy. He brings in Silas to stand witness to Miss Isringhausen's signature (and catches her trying to fake it), and then brings in Star to school Silas on the movers and shakers of Montana to fool Commissioner Jarry from Yankton into thinking there's legitimately a competing offer for annexation.
In better times, it would be an enjoyable caper. Al is rarely so fun as when he's concocting a scheme and putting it into action. He's everything Frank Underwood is meant to be, but ten times as competent and entertaining. The way the easily susceptible Jarry plays right into Al's hands, and Al gets all the details right is enjoyable.
But then there's the other half of the episode, the one consumed with a dying young boy. The scenes of Seth and Martha at William's bedside are heartbreaking. There has been a distance, a remove between them since Martha arrived in Deadwood, and yet at this moment of immense grief, they are a family in an unquestioned manner. Martha talks about Seth as "your father" when speaking to William. Seth opens himself up to his son, trying to speak of his fondness for the boy in this time of grief. It's a very stark scene, with no score and little lighting, instead, simply the plain, unvarnished moment of two parents and their child, being forced to say goodbye.
And yet halfway across town, Manuel lives. That's as harsh a statement that this show could make about the dice roll that is life in Deadwood. A man who kills his own brother can be saved, even if Doc Cochran himself seems to lament the possibility, but a little boy cannot. There is a tragedy and unfairness to it that casts a shadow in this already dark episode.
Meanwhile, Fields and Hostetler know they'll be blamed and hightail it out of town. Puzzlingly, they conclude that if they just catch the horse that got loose, and bring it back to down and make amends, they'll be allowed to leave. I'm not sure what the idea is here. I mean, it seems clear that given how Fields was tarred for literally doing nothing, that there'll be no amends offered given what happened, but maybe there's something I'm missing.
Still, the episode contrast the grand with the personal. Al is, no matter what else happens, concerned with the prosperity and continued independence and success of the camp (not to mention his own interests on that front). Even when there is tragedy in the town, he knows that life goes on and he will conspire with Merrick and Adams and whomever else he needs to in order to get done what needs doing, Bullock or no Bullock. Seth, for his part, is not angry, as I predicted; he is for the moment wholly removed from his duties as sheriff or townsperson. For one day, at least, he is simply a father, a title he didn't necessarily intend on, but one that becomes him, and which meets an awful end here. Al Swearengen is the father of a town and secures that once more here. Seth Bullock is simply the father of a boy, and he is not so fortunate in trying to hold onto what he had.