5x10 Rickmurai Jack

[8.2/10] I don’t really go to Rick and Morty for beauty. The art style has a charm all its own and there’s clearly attention to detail and creativity involved. But I tend to think of it in service of the humor, of the off-the-wall character interactions, the general lunacy that the show has to offer rather than art for art’s sake.

At the same time, it’s hard not to be at least a little moved by the two big montages we get here. (Not counting the anime-inspired intro, of course.) The sequence where we finally get to see Rick’s backstory, told without dialogue, set to an symphonic score, is poignant in a way I wasn’t necessarily expecting. Many of the details are things we knew or suspected, but the reveal of the man losing his wife and daughter, traversing the universe searching for the man who did it, and eventually settling back into some facsimile of his own life from another dimension is, as Rick himself might put it, some of that Charlie Kaufman bullshit. And it totally works on me.

So does Evil Morty’s speech and eventual escape. The idea that the Ricks basically farm Morties is terrifying, diabolical even. It flips what we know and expect about these characters. Finding out that you are cattle, used to fuel the adventures and lifestyle of your own grandfather, would be harrowing.

In truth, all the meta winks go a little too far here. I enjoy Dan Harmon’s fourth wall-breaking humor as much as anybody. But so much talk about canon, or episodic versus serialized adventures, or things being a metaphor for capitalism put too fine a point when the show is trying to do something a little deeper than usual. It gives everything a fingers-crossed quality, and hey, maybe that’s intentional, maybe the show’s making fun of stiffs like for me for daring to take it seriously. There’s certainly a tone of pseudo-resentment from ardent fans wanting to know the backstory and truths that have been teased for years now. But I could do with a little less meta and a little more playing it straight for something like this.

Still, the most shocking revelation isn’t so much about Rick C-137 as it is the fact that for all the Ricks’ self-confidence, they built a shield around the universes where they’re the smartest man in the world. For all the infinite possibility of our Rick and Morty hopping realms, the twist that the Council of Ricks were still protecting themselves in some way makes them weaker and sadder and somehow more evil, only allowing them to experience the top at everyone else’s expense.

So by the end, you’re rooting for Evil Morty in some way. He too is a monster, booby trapping portals and grinding up every Rick and Morty in the Citadel to fuel his own escape. But he’s just trying to remove himself from the abusive cycle perpetuated by Ricks, to break out of the “crib” and experience a world where his grandfather isn’t the top dog by fiat.

The moment where he does is beautiful. Again, an ethereal score and wordless set of scenes tugs on the heartstrings, making you feel a sense of awe and relief when Evil Morty traverses through the edge of this dimensional shockwave to reach a place free of Rick’s influence. There’s shades of 2001: A Space Odyssey and a similar liminal sense about the whole thing. For all Evil Morty has been the big bad of this show, by the time he makes a portal of a different color and steps through, you’re halfway rooting for it given the type of bullshit he’s escaping from.
Along the way, the random bits of humor we get before the more dramatic stuff is solid. While the “Rick and the Two Crows” shtick was destined to be fleeting, I appreciate the homage to Samurai Jack, anime tropes, and Yojimbo-style ronin stories before we get into the major business of the finale. Morty taking an aging serum to pretend he’s in his forties was kind of weird, but the build-a-bear workshop spoof and him caring about lawn care were good for a few yuks. And my favorite little bit in the episode was the tribute to Stan Lee’s Marvel comics inserts to help remind readers of past events.

But the crux of this one is ultimately the relationship between Rick and Morty. It’s presented vaguely triumphantly. Regular Morty chooses to save his grandfather rather than leave with Evil Morty. When Rick C-137 and the sewer-dwelling Morties escape, there’s a very symbolic moment when Rick tries to pilot an escape vehicle away, but it takes Morty as a full “partner” not a sidekick to move the throttle. It seems meant as a sign that things might change.

At the same time, though, Evil Morty makes some fair points, about what’s in the nature of these Ricks and the Morties they’ve created. It’s sad that Morty is codependent with his crappy grandfather. Morty’s right that Rick didn’t return or even seem to really care about his grandson until the crows dumped him. Returning to the status quo for more adventures is all well and good for an ongoing television show with a kajillion season order to fulfill. But the more we learn about who Rick is and what he really thinks of Morty, the less we (or at least I) want to see them together.

This is supposed to be a happy ending. Rick and Morty are back together. They seem to have figured out some sort of detente and understanding. But for how long? How long until Rick casts his grandson aside like an old gym sock once he moves onto some other crazy science fiction thing? I don’t know. I applaud “Rickmurai Jack” and the show’s creative team for having the chutzpah to ask the question, but I don’t know that I like the answer it implies.

And yet, these moments are beautiful even as they’re melancholy. To see a man lose everything and become a monster to get it back, to see some version of his grandchild and sidekick become a monster in return to escape from the inexorable gravity of the comfortable, confining nest his overlords have built, to watch two people decide they need one another with the tinge of doubt that it will last, set among brilliant hughes and sonic swells, is a type of beauty Rick and Morty only aims for on occasion, but achieves something transcendent when it does.