[7.2/10] One of my favorite sequences from Munich -- the 2005 Steven Spielberg film about Israeli spies that The Americans feels at least a little indebted to -- comes when one of those spies as returned home after a long time in the field. He’s walking down the street, holding his infant child in his arms, and panics as an unknown car rambles down the street. Spielberg shoots the scene in slow motion, letting the tension build as the automobile gets closer, as the spy crouches behind a telephone pole, as the window rolls down and no one knows what’s going to emerge from it.
And then, nothing. It’s just someone flicking their cigarette butt out the window and then going on their merry way.
But the spy didn’t know that. After all those years in the field, taking out his targets, he made enemies, and the unremitting terror of being a spy is that you never know when your chickens could come home to roost. You can’t have a quiet, peaceful moment, because you can never be sure when the fearsome, just as talented spooks on the other side of the line may come back for their revenge and hurt the people you love in the process.
“Cardinal”’s best moments are cut from the same cloth. When Elizabeth gazes out past her kitchen window and sees a road maintenance crew doing their work, she could and normally would write it off as just that -- routine city service. But after seeing not only her allies gunned down in cold blood in the prior episode, but their teenage daughter as well, Elizabeth is spooked, looking around every corner, paranoid even, and it’s not a familiar look for the normally unflappable spy.
To the extent there’s a theme to “Cardinal” -- and I’ll admit I’m stretching here -- it’s about what you do when the unexpected happens, when you’re thrust into a new situation and are unsure what to do but have to decide whether to trust people, maybe even strangers, to try to get through it.
We see that with the story of “the walk-in.” I’ll cop to not really knowing that term before this episode, but the basic concept isn’t hard. It’s a stranger, presumably an American, walking into the Rezidentura and wanting to give them something, whether that’s info or intel or something else, that will get him something in return, whether that’s money or asylum or some other returned favor.
It is both a chance for us to see Arkady a little off-kilter for once as well. He seems to have a cool air about him most of the time, but this development is enough to push him out of his comfort zone, having him fumfer, or at least appear to, while trying to talk to the guy through an intercom.
And it’s a chance for us to see Nina playing Stan but letting him get enough info to work the case (not to mention deal with the annoying but inevitable love interest who’s hounding her at the Rezidentura right now). Stan uses the combination of the time frame Nina gave him, and the surveillance footage of the Rezidentura to narrow down who the turncoat would be, which gives the FBI a head start. The season is young, but it’s cool to see another instance of the KGB and the FBI working both sides of a case, especially since the antagonists (or at least the foil) for this season are little more mysterious this year.
That’s the question that Philip seems to be trying to get to the bottom of, as he tries to circle the square with his dead colleague’s contact, Fred. It’s neat to get to see Philip do some more spy work here, infiltrating Fred’s home, making sure not to leave fingerprints, and even finding Fred’s secret hiding spot.
That’s why it’s such a surprise when Philip gets his hand electrocuted by booby trap from an amateur like Fred, and finds himself tied up in Fred’s bedroom right before the guy is about to bolt and maybe kill him. Their exchange requires forging that same sort of trust with a stranger, one where Philip has to break some rough news to Fred that his old contact, whom he was apparently close to, is dead, while somehow ingratiating himself with Fred enough to keep him on their side, or at least let him live.
There’s not that much tension when Fred has a gun trained on Philip, because come on, there’s four more seasons of this show. But it’s still interesting to see Philip talk his way out of it, bringing up the fact that, based on the board games in the closet, Fred knew about Philip’s colleague’s kids. There was an openness there, one spies aren’t accustomed to, between agent and asset that concerns Philip a little (and isn’t enough for him to be anything but cryptic about his own family), but also saves his bacon.
That’s what Elizabeth tries to do for another agent as she’s desperately trying to balance her demands as a secret agent and a mother to an increasingly nosy and suspicious teenager. Her scene helping another young agent caught in a tight spot with a drugged out congressional aid is quick but encouraging, showing again Elizabeth’s competence, but also her resoluteness and wisdom at this stage in her career, when she remembers that being a young, green agent was no picnic either, but that she got through it, this girl will get through it, and that she can hopefully get through this too.
So the maintenance workers drive off after she and the kids get home, and Elizabeth can offer a sigh of relief, for now. The opposite side of that trust in a stranger is the fear of the unknown. Elizabeth and Philip were used to taking these risks themselves, but now that their children are in play, now that Elizabeth will be forever haunted by a bullet hole left in facepaint, she’s beleaguered by thoughts about who might be coming and how and why and when.
Who knows how long the episode will play that out before revealing the season’s threat, but for the moment, it’s compelling to see these spies -- so capable, so steady, so confident -- turned into the same worried, paranoid parents that Spielberg conveyed so beautifully nearly a decade before.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParentSpoilers2018-07-17T02:47:48Z
[7.2/10] One of my favorite sequences from Munich -- the 2005 Steven Spielberg film about Israeli spies that The Americans feels at least a little indebted to -- comes when one of those spies as returned home after a long time in the field. He’s walking down the street, holding his infant child in his arms, and panics as an unknown car rambles down the street. Spielberg shoots the scene in slow motion, letting the tension build as the automobile gets closer, as the spy crouches behind a telephone pole, as the window rolls down and no one knows what’s going to emerge from it.
And then, nothing. It’s just someone flicking their cigarette butt out the window and then going on their merry way.
But the spy didn’t know that. After all those years in the field, taking out his targets, he made enemies, and the unremitting terror of being a spy is that you never know when your chickens could come home to roost. You can’t have a quiet, peaceful moment, because you can never be sure when the fearsome, just as talented spooks on the other side of the line may come back for their revenge and hurt the people you love in the process.
“Cardinal”’s best moments are cut from the same cloth. When Elizabeth gazes out past her kitchen window and sees a road maintenance crew doing their work, she could and normally would write it off as just that -- routine city service. But after seeing not only her allies gunned down in cold blood in the prior episode, but their teenage daughter as well, Elizabeth is spooked, looking around every corner, paranoid even, and it’s not a familiar look for the normally unflappable spy.
To the extent there’s a theme to “Cardinal” -- and I’ll admit I’m stretching here -- it’s about what you do when the unexpected happens, when you’re thrust into a new situation and are unsure what to do but have to decide whether to trust people, maybe even strangers, to try to get through it.
We see that with the story of “the walk-in.” I’ll cop to not really knowing that term before this episode, but the basic concept isn’t hard. It’s a stranger, presumably an American, walking into the Rezidentura and wanting to give them something, whether that’s info or intel or something else, that will get him something in return, whether that’s money or asylum or some other returned favor.
It is both a chance for us to see Arkady a little off-kilter for once as well. He seems to have a cool air about him most of the time, but this development is enough to push him out of his comfort zone, having him fumfer, or at least appear to, while trying to talk to the guy through an intercom.
And it’s a chance for us to see Nina playing Stan but letting him get enough info to work the case (not to mention deal with the annoying but inevitable love interest who’s hounding her at the Rezidentura right now). Stan uses the combination of the time frame Nina gave him, and the surveillance footage of the Rezidentura to narrow down who the turncoat would be, which gives the FBI a head start. The season is young, but it’s cool to see another instance of the KGB and the FBI working both sides of a case, especially since the antagonists (or at least the foil) for this season are little more mysterious this year.
That’s the question that Philip seems to be trying to get to the bottom of, as he tries to circle the square with his dead colleague’s contact, Fred. It’s neat to get to see Philip do some more spy work here, infiltrating Fred’s home, making sure not to leave fingerprints, and even finding Fred’s secret hiding spot.
That’s why it’s such a surprise when Philip gets his hand electrocuted by booby trap from an amateur like Fred, and finds himself tied up in Fred’s bedroom right before the guy is about to bolt and maybe kill him. Their exchange requires forging that same sort of trust with a stranger, one where Philip has to break some rough news to Fred that his old contact, whom he was apparently close to, is dead, while somehow ingratiating himself with Fred enough to keep him on their side, or at least let him live.
There’s not that much tension when Fred has a gun trained on Philip, because come on, there’s four more seasons of this show. But it’s still interesting to see Philip talk his way out of it, bringing up the fact that, based on the board games in the closet, Fred knew about Philip’s colleague’s kids. There was an openness there, one spies aren’t accustomed to, between agent and asset that concerns Philip a little (and isn’t enough for him to be anything but cryptic about his own family), but also saves his bacon.
That’s what Elizabeth tries to do for another agent as she’s desperately trying to balance her demands as a secret agent and a mother to an increasingly nosy and suspicious teenager. Her scene helping another young agent caught in a tight spot with a drugged out congressional aid is quick but encouraging, showing again Elizabeth’s competence, but also her resoluteness and wisdom at this stage in her career, when she remembers that being a young, green agent was no picnic either, but that she got through it, this girl will get through it, and that she can hopefully get through this too.
So the maintenance workers drive off after she and the kids get home, and Elizabeth can offer a sigh of relief, for now. The opposite side of that trust in a stranger is the fear of the unknown. Elizabeth and Philip were used to taking these risks themselves, but now that their children are in play, now that Elizabeth will be forever haunted by a bullet hole left in facepaint, she’s beleaguered by thoughts about who might be coming and how and why and when.
Who knows how long the episode will play that out before revealing the season’s threat, but for the moment, it’s compelling to see these spies -- so capable, so steady, so confident -- turned into the same worried, paranoid parents that Spielberg conveyed so beautifully nearly a decade before.