“Do
the work.”
The
most interesting angle of the memory trips that dominate “Chapter Two” is
glossed over rather quickly. Ptonomy the
“memory artist” mentions that the visitors can interact with the memories, but
it should be avoided because it changes the memory. There is increasing evidence that this is not
a fanciful dramatic invention, but a fairly accurate reflection of how memory
actually works, which creates problems for, among other things, a justice system
built upon eye witness testimony. With the disclaimer that I'm no scientist, the basic
conundrum seems to be that the more we revisit memories, the more they become
polluted with the needs and feelings of the present day. While the research is not 100% conclusive, the underlying
hypothesis is basically that our brains were never designed to take unbiased
snapshots of actual events, but rather to foster split-second decision making
in life-or-death situations. This means
that any objective recording of external reality is quickly overridden by the
need to fit that data into an existing framework of cause-and-effect. It makes a degree of sense from an
evolutionary standpoint, as for our idiotic orangutan forebearers, it was
frequently more important that basic fight/flight decisions be made immediately
than that they be made rationally.
Dumbass. |
What
this means is that our brains are less recording devices than narrative
engines. That we don’t meet every day with
a fresh slate and make decisions based on rational reactions to what we
encounter. Rather, we get up and tell
ourselves a story about who we are and what kind of world we live in. And when it doesn’t match up with the facts,
it’s only rarely that the story is the one that is bent in order to bring them together.
see also: Bias, Confirmation; Facebook Feed, Your |
I
don’t think that such concepts are lost on Noah Hawley. The thing that unites
Fargo across the very different film and disparate seasons of the TV show (okay, aside from wintry setting, inept criminality, and funny accents) is that
they all examine the fallout when regular-ish folks run into circumstances so
extreme that they can’t be bent far enough to fit the accepted stories about
themselves and their communities. Thus
far, Legion has also focused on the
stubbornness of the old narrative of David’s mental illness trying to reassert itself
over the new, paradigm-shifting evidence of his crazy superpowers. But “Chapter Two” does not do quite as good a
job as the pilot of making that compelling drama.
As
I blathered about last week, I don’t like it when my fake narratives spend a whole
bunch of time on “fake” stuff that isn’t literal within the world of the
story. Every story is a fantasy already,
so I don’t have much need for the extra layer of artifice between me and
whatever the point is supposed to be. Or
to quote something I may have only heard in a dream (if quick Google returns are
any indication) “making a movie about a dream is like putting a hat on top of a
hat.”
Alternately, you could make a movie about dreams that are more stultifyingly rulebound than the audience's real lives, but you're moving into Expert-Only level difficulty there |
So
I am not keen on segments of fantasy stories that take place within the
character’s mind, or coma dream or Imaginationland or whatever, which the bulk
of this episode did. It’s kind of
jarring how quickly, after a plus-sized premiere that made time for plenty of
dream sequences and a random Bollywood dance number, this episode drops us
right into the Eternal Sunshine
therapy sessions. It feels like there is an entire act of “first day
at Hogwarts” introduction stuff to get us acclimated to the mutant retreat
Summerland that is just being skipped over. But maybe not letting us
acclimate is the point, to keep us feeling as off-balance as David does with all the new information he's being bombarded with. Even so, it seems like we spend a lot of time
exploring David’s past in rather leisurely fashion before the reveal that his sister has been abducted introduces the type of ticking clock that
such a device requires to feel more vital than wankery-y.
It's not a total slog, though, as the show’s visual and aural inventiveness
is still on full display, and the relationship between David and Syd is developing
into a sweet, genuine (if convoluted) anchor for the already convoluted mythological
and structural elements. I was skeptical
of the coupling at first, because it kicked off with a love-at-first-sight
trope that I find to be the height of bullshit, not to mention thoroughly
unromantic. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with immediately wanting to fuck
someone before you’ve heard them speak, but insisting on calling that love just highlights how
shallow a reaction it really is. But as
with everything I talked about last week, their “romance of the mind” takes a
tired dynamic and inverts it, with their respective powers putting them in a sort of reversed one-night stand
set-up. Instead of being physically
intimate right off the bat and struggling to navigate the emotional vulnerability
that follows, they're still struggling to figure out holding hands while she has already studied
his childhood trauma and literally walked a mile in his shoes, and he knows her
private thoughts without even trying. Not that it would take a psychic to spot the
lie when she tries to convince him to stay by holding hands, listlessly
insisting “I want to.”
Man, what a slut. |
It’s unique and cute dynamic, and the visual flourishes are impressive and ideas intriguing, but both regular readers of this blog know I’m a plot guy. So I’m looking forward to the conspiracy thriller aspects ramping up, as promised by the stinger with The Eye menacing Amy with a container of leeches. That’s creepy and immediate and has stakes grounded in the show’s “real” world, rather than solely within David’s head. And I need a steady tether to that kind of thing for the headier stuff to remain interesting color rather than self-indulgent wheel-spinning.
Put
another way, you better do the work to make one damn fine hat if you’re going
to try to entertain me by putting another hat on it.
Other random stuff:
- That story David’s dad reads him is Babadook-level dark, with what it forebodes about what happened to his mother. But the title “The World’s Angriest Boy In The World” is the best thing to ever happen, so there’s that.
- I’m still confused by the body-swap with Syd. Apparently their minds entered each other bodies, and then later rather than the minds re-swapping, their physical bodies switched places? I’m not saying this is against “the rules” or whatever because its all gobbledegook, but it is certainly not intuitive.
- The others can’t see the Devil With The Yellow Eyes when he appears in David’s memories, and he lies to them when they ask what he is reacting to. He's a real creepy bastard, however, and I’m going to throw it out now that he’s not an independent figure but a projection of what David becomes when he loses control of his powers and feelings and lashes out, becoming the World’s Angriest Boy In The World, Who Maybe Accidentally Killed His Mom. If it is verifiable that it is actually Dan Stevens under all those prosthetics, please do not tell me.
- I love the Carpenter-esque “Conspiracy Theme” that pops up when David gives us a glimpse of Amy investigating in the hospital. Though most of you assholes probably hear it and just think Stranger Things.
- The scene where Syd talks David out of running into the Division’s trap is nicely punctuated with a shot of her moving behind his shoulder in the elevator. Still not touching, but the framing places her within in his personal space from our perspective. Visual storytelling!
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