So, due to the demands of outside interests, someone is trying to neuter something wild, in the hopes of a financial windfall, and because they are too impatient to wait until the timing is right, the attempt goes badly, the person trying to do the neutering is hurt, and the innocent are harmed in the process? Can I get a "hooray for metaphors"? Yes, the wild horse that Fields and Hostetler are trying to "cut" seems to easily represent Deadwood itself, and portends how the Wolcotts and Hearsts of the world are attempting to neutralize the Swearengens and Bullocks of their fair burg in the hope of extracting its wealth for themselves, but are likely to be rebuked just as forcefully, with some number of innocent folks lost in the crossfire.
The bluntness of the metaphor aside, I did really enjoy the final sequence of the episode. Maybe it was just the musical cues, but there was an increasing sense of tension as director Ed Bianchi cuts to various scenes around the camp as you feel the dam is about to burst. There's a perfect storm quality to it. All of these little events -- Bullock being called away by Miss Isringhausen wanting her documents signed in the presence of the sheriff, Alma coming to make peace with the Bullock family, Tom Nutall wanting to show off his bicycle, Steve stops William in the midst of it without Bullock there to shoo him away, and the horse breaking out at just that moment. If any one of these details had been different, who knows if William would have been struck but that wildness, if he would have been in position to suffer that harm. There's a spirit and sense of foreboding to that scene, shared with Anna Gun (Martha Bullock) and her successor series Breaking Bad, that sometimes the universe conspires against you, that by random chance or fate, all the dominos fall just so for something terrible to happen.
That horror of that scene, with a good-natured boy lying stricken in the street, is magnified by what came before. We see William and Seth Bullock bonding. One of the big differences between Seth Bullock from S1 to S2 of the show is that we see more dimensions of him this season. In the first season, Bullock was various shades of barely-restrained, law-bound anger with occasional terse kindness. But this season, we see his awkwardness with Martha, his affection for William, and his regret about his brother. William seems like the first person we've seen (maybe short of Bill) who Seth actually likes. (I realize Alma is the obvious answer there, but their relationship always felt a little strained to me, more the product of the same passion that fuels his anger than true affection.) And I believe it's because William represents Seth's brother to him, and to William, Seth represents his father. These are two men who carry the same last name, brought together through their shared love of a man who's no longer in their lives. There's something undeniably sweet about that, and it makes it all the more painful when William is hurt (and maybe killed?) because one of Seth's enemies had taken him aside and Seth himself wasn't there to stop it. We know through the confluence of events that there's much more to it than that, but it seems likely that Seth will place the blame squarely on two people -- Steve, who I imagine is not long for this world, and himself.
It's also made worse by the detente reached by the Bullocks and the Garrets in the prior scene. Alma coming into the hardware store, apologizing to Martha in her roundabout way, and the resulting peace and harmony was one of the more positive developments on the show as of late. Martha's arrival has been awkward and uncomfortable for everyone, and has led to a significant degree of anger and resentment. But that scene suggests something settling, that like Seth and William, Alma and Martha are finding some sort of common ground.
It's no coincidence then that, in one of the more dull scenes, Wolcott exposes Mose Manuel's guilt over his own brother. It connects thematically to the subtext of Bullock's connection to William, and the familial bonds that can lead to regret or even to Mose getting down to something approaching "suicide by cop" by challenging Cy over his debts.
We see a similar sort of family bond between Charlie Utter and Jane. It's clear that however stymied or futile Charlie sees the effort to be, he wants to look after Jane, and they have a certain fraternal vibe as well. He sends her to Joanie, with the idea that they might look after one another, and though he's going away, he feels compelled to say goodbye and to her encourage as he does. Jane is her entertainingly recalcitrant and sarcastic self about it, but you can tell the affection is mutual, even if Jane only knows how to express it in her particular way.
There's other interesting stuff there. Al's conflict with Merrick over the newspaperman laying it on too thick in their agreed upon story about external interest in annexing Deadwood is a good one. Also, Al sealing the deal with Miss Isringhausen and hopefully putting an end to that kind of bizarre storyline is a plus. For his part, E.B. is in top annoying form, and seeing Al insult him is always an entertaining pasttime. But for the most part, this episode takes place in the shadow of big metaphors about what Deadwood is, whether it can be "nutted" and the pain--the loss of brothers and sons of all stripes--that can come in the attempt.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParent2016-07-24T20:49:08Z
So, due to the demands of outside interests, someone is trying to neuter something wild, in the hopes of a financial windfall, and because they are too impatient to wait until the timing is right, the attempt goes badly, the person trying to do the neutering is hurt, and the innocent are harmed in the process? Can I get a "hooray for metaphors"? Yes, the wild horse that Fields and Hostetler are trying to "cut" seems to easily represent Deadwood itself, and portends how the Wolcotts and Hearsts of the world are attempting to neutralize the Swearengens and Bullocks of their fair burg in the hope of extracting its wealth for themselves, but are likely to be rebuked just as forcefully, with some number of innocent folks lost in the crossfire.
The bluntness of the metaphor aside, I did really enjoy the final sequence of the episode. Maybe it was just the musical cues, but there was an increasing sense of tension as director Ed Bianchi cuts to various scenes around the camp as you feel the dam is about to burst. There's a perfect storm quality to it. All of these little events -- Bullock being called away by Miss Isringhausen wanting her documents signed in the presence of the sheriff, Alma coming to make peace with the Bullock family, Tom Nutall wanting to show off his bicycle, Steve stops William in the midst of it without Bullock there to shoo him away, and the horse breaking out at just that moment. If any one of these details had been different, who knows if William would have been struck but that wildness, if he would have been in position to suffer that harm. There's a spirit and sense of foreboding to that scene, shared with Anna Gun (Martha Bullock) and her successor series Breaking Bad, that sometimes the universe conspires against you, that by random chance or fate, all the dominos fall just so for something terrible to happen.
That horror of that scene, with a good-natured boy lying stricken in the street, is magnified by what came before. We see William and Seth Bullock bonding. One of the big differences between Seth Bullock from S1 to S2 of the show is that we see more dimensions of him this season. In the first season, Bullock was various shades of barely-restrained, law-bound anger with occasional terse kindness. But this season, we see his awkwardness with Martha, his affection for William, and his regret about his brother. William seems like the first person we've seen (maybe short of Bill) who Seth actually likes. (I realize Alma is the obvious answer there, but their relationship always felt a little strained to me, more the product of the same passion that fuels his anger than true affection.) And I believe it's because William represents Seth's brother to him, and to William, Seth represents his father. These are two men who carry the same last name, brought together through their shared love of a man who's no longer in their lives. There's something undeniably sweet about that, and it makes it all the more painful when William is hurt (and maybe killed?) because one of Seth's enemies had taken him aside and Seth himself wasn't there to stop it. We know through the confluence of events that there's much more to it than that, but it seems likely that Seth will place the blame squarely on two people -- Steve, who I imagine is not long for this world, and himself.
It's also made worse by the detente reached by the Bullocks and the Garrets in the prior scene. Alma coming into the hardware store, apologizing to Martha in her roundabout way, and the resulting peace and harmony was one of the more positive developments on the show as of late. Martha's arrival has been awkward and uncomfortable for everyone, and has led to a significant degree of anger and resentment. But that scene suggests something settling, that like Seth and William, Alma and Martha are finding some sort of common ground.
It's no coincidence then that, in one of the more dull scenes, Wolcott exposes Mose Manuel's guilt over his own brother. It connects thematically to the subtext of Bullock's connection to William, and the familial bonds that can lead to regret or even to Mose getting down to something approaching "suicide by cop" by challenging Cy over his debts.
We see a similar sort of family bond between Charlie Utter and Jane. It's clear that however stymied or futile Charlie sees the effort to be, he wants to look after Jane, and they have a certain fraternal vibe as well. He sends her to Joanie, with the idea that they might look after one another, and though he's going away, he feels compelled to say goodbye and to her encourage as he does. Jane is her entertainingly recalcitrant and sarcastic self about it, but you can tell the affection is mutual, even if Jane only knows how to express it in her particular way.
There's other interesting stuff there. Al's conflict with Merrick over the newspaperman laying it on too thick in their agreed upon story about external interest in annexing Deadwood is a good one. Also, Al sealing the deal with Miss Isringhausen and hopefully putting an end to that kind of bizarre storyline is a plus. For his part, E.B. is in top annoying form, and seeing Al insult him is always an entertaining pasttime. But for the most part, this episode takes place in the shadow of big metaphors about what Deadwood is, whether it can be "nutted" and the pain--the loss of brothers and sons of all stripes--that can come in the attempt.