Dance for your mammy... |
We also get some of that backstory I was asking after, as Tulip travels to Houston to trade a thing for an address with a woman named Dani who works for a man in a white suit who is attending a Snuff Film convention. Nice. The man's snuff habit - the content hinted at in audio only - mirrors a scene in which Donnie's boss, Mr Quincannon, sits listening via intercom to cattle being slaughtered.
Those two guys meanwhile are explaining to the sheriff that they are pursuing something 'like' an escaped lunatic, provoking the Sheriff to recount a story of a couple who lost their youngest at a fairground and found him again, only for their other two children to be kidnapped and murdered while they were searching. It's another moment reminiscent of Fargo, if the philosophy of Fargo were more bleakly pessimistic. The Sheriff leaves and the two men arm up like SWAT to recover 'first the can, then the Preacher.'
Having successfully commanded the coma girl to open her eyes (not wake up, just open her eyes,) Jesse ropes Cassidy into a further test, making him dance, shadow box, sing and try to fly. While ostensibly just them fucking around, this scene neatly encapsulates some of the limits of the power: It can't make someone do something that they physically cannot, it's incredibly literal, and it depends on the listener understanding the command. Cassidy is a font of wisdom on the subject, suggesting that the world is now Jesse's oyster and offering sage counsel on the potential sources of the power:
"Now, there's three possible explanations here. Number one: John Travolta. You know the movie where he gets his power from a brain tumor. Number two: Jason Bourne. Gets his power from a secret government agency. Or, aye, it's least likely, but it's my favorite: you're a Jedi."
Now, clearly some people got hurt. |
Jesse agrees to this particular mission, perhaps driven by the rush of the power he now has. When he uses it we see his face in a frankly diabolical light, set in a mask of cruel glee, both as he tests it on Cassidy and, when he and Tulip stop for gas, when Donnie tries to ambush him in the toilet. Mocked by his boss and by the children of Anneville, Donnie is determined to reclaim his power, but instead finds himself compelled to put his own gun in his mouth. Jesse stops short - barely - of ordering him to pull the trigger, as a moment of revelation dawns, and instead he turns his back on vengeance and goes off to read scripture at Ted Reyerson's funeral in the company of bland church helper lady, whom I really hope gets some actual personality rather than just being a generically nice counter-influence to Cassidy and Tulip. We also see his other influence here, as his father's gravestone is prominent, dated 1955-1990.
I'm not saying best character, but so far most fun. |
Preacher continues to be a slow, rambling delight, punctuated by moments of savage violence. It really is like a slightly more nihilistic version of Fargo, and I love it for that. Also, I need to see if Netflix has season 2 of Fargo yet. I love the fact that there are all these forces in the world - Quincannon, the man in white, the cowboy - that we (we being viewers not familiar with the source material) still don't really know yet, just waiting to be embroiled in the story later on.
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