7.5/10. Well hey, one way to get me on board with your episode is to tie it around one of the best Mountain Goats songs ever, so "Numb" has that going for it out of the gate. Apart from the episode's sonic stylings, I appreciated the episode's focus on Bloberta as a kind of alternate story to the events of "Nature." We haven't really gotten much more from her than the usual background stuff relative to Clay, and it's nice to see that her staid demeanor isn't just a lack of imagination on the part of the show's creators, but rather gets tied into a sense that she, like seemingly everyone else in Moralton, has made herself inured to the pain inflicted by the world.
That's the not-so-subtle theme of the episode. Whether it's Bloberta's pills or Clay's liquor or Coach Stopframe's callous disregard or Dr. Potterswheel's jaded lack of concern for human suffering after having seen so much of it, everyone in the episode has let go of caring in one way shape or form. Bloberta is desperate to feel something, something real and human, which takes a pretty uncomfortable turn when she begins satisfying herself with a mini-jackhammer. That oddly forms the basis of a connection between her and Dr. Potterswheel, where her injuries seem to feed his sadism fetish and Bloberta is more than welcome for the attention.
Of course, in a tragic and poetically ironic twist, that attention causes Bloberta not to have to need to harm herself to feel anything anymore, which in turn makes her no longer interesting to Dr. Potterswheel, to the point that he can't even look at her anymore, leaving her back where she started. It's the cruel hand she's been dealt, and despite her gentle demeanor with Orel (as witnessed from Clay's POV), she steps out into the hallway and breaks down. She is deeply hurt and hurting inside from all of this, from what she's left with, a sham of a marriage and a deadened soul. So both she and Clay return to their separate beds and sit blankfaced, each embracing the numbness that prevents them from having to face their pain.
It's a horrifically dark turn, which seems to have become the show's M.O. now, and a little blunt at times, but also a powerfully little human story of suffering.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParent2016-08-12T17:46:04Z
7.5/10. Well hey, one way to get me on board with your episode is to tie it around one of the best Mountain Goats songs ever, so "Numb" has that going for it out of the gate. Apart from the episode's sonic stylings, I appreciated the episode's focus on Bloberta as a kind of alternate story to the events of "Nature." We haven't really gotten much more from her than the usual background stuff relative to Clay, and it's nice to see that her staid demeanor isn't just a lack of imagination on the part of the show's creators, but rather gets tied into a sense that she, like seemingly everyone else in Moralton, has made herself inured to the pain inflicted by the world.
That's the not-so-subtle theme of the episode. Whether it's Bloberta's pills or Clay's liquor or Coach Stopframe's callous disregard or Dr. Potterswheel's jaded lack of concern for human suffering after having seen so much of it, everyone in the episode has let go of caring in one way shape or form. Bloberta is desperate to feel something, something real and human, which takes a pretty uncomfortable turn when she begins satisfying herself with a mini-jackhammer. That oddly forms the basis of a connection between her and Dr. Potterswheel, where her injuries seem to feed his sadism fetish and Bloberta is more than welcome for the attention.
Of course, in a tragic and poetically ironic twist, that attention causes Bloberta not to have to need to harm herself to feel anything anymore, which in turn makes her no longer interesting to Dr. Potterswheel, to the point that he can't even look at her anymore, leaving her back where she started. It's the cruel hand she's been dealt, and despite her gentle demeanor with Orel (as witnessed from Clay's POV), she steps out into the hallway and breaks down. She is deeply hurt and hurting inside from all of this, from what she's left with, a sham of a marriage and a deadened soul. So both she and Clay return to their separate beds and sit blankfaced, each embracing the numbness that prevents them from having to face their pain.
It's a horrifically dark turn, which seems to have become the show's M.O. now, and a little blunt at times, but also a powerfully little human story of suffering.