PREACHER - Ep. 10, SEASON FINALE - Call and Response - A TV Review

Preacher's season finale closes the door on a lot of things, including my patience. Let's wrap this charlie foxtrot up, yeah?

SPOILER WARNING - Spoilers for the TV show and the comic book. Like, for serious. Spoilery-ass spoilers. 

I really don't know what to say to that. Everything I feared about the first season of 'Preacher' was realized in the season finale.

Sometime after I watched the pilot, an idea formed in the back of my head. I dismissed it as stupid - nobody could be that stupid - and it faded into the distance of my mind. Then about four weeks ago, the idea popped back up, and I thought "well...maybe." But again, I thought, nobody could do something so idiotic. And then, two weeks ago, when Jesse told Quincannon he wanted one more sermon to help bring God to the people, I thought, "holy shit, they're actually going to do it.They're going to kill everybody in the season finale."

But I held out hope throughout "Call and Response" that at the last minute, I'd be proven wrong. And when I saw Jesse's parishioners file out of the church after the exposure of the impostor God (while Emily hilariously trolled them with some ? and the Mysterians), I breathed a sigh of relief. The town made it. They got out of the church alive. Thank god!

And then they all were all killed when the entire town exploded.

Why? Because somewhere several months ago, when constructing their idea of what this show should be, Sam Catlin, Seth Rogen, and Evan Goldberg decided to take what happened in the first issue of "Preacher" and instead of having it happen in the pilot, or 3-5 episodes in, they'd wait until the end of the first season to wipe out most of the cast, save the three leads. Now, why did they decide to do that? Who the fuck knows. There is no "why" that serves this story, and even more damning, there is no story that is served by this ending.

Oh sure, we have the story from the comic book - Jesse, Tulip and Cassidy riding around America searching for God with the Saint of Killers on their ass, but Catlin/Rogen/Goldberg didn't tell us that story for the entire season. It only just came up. They wasted our time for ten episodes half-assedly investing us in Jesse's desire to save Annville, investing us in the lives of the townspeople and their relationships - Emily, Sheriff Root, Donny and Betsy, Odin Quincannon. And killing them all now serves no obvious purpose beyond what I hope wasn't the case - that it'd be funny.

In a way, the season finale was a microcosm of everything wrong with this failed first season. Some part of it were good - very good, even - but in the end, a lot of it was just plain unnecessary and didn't really accomplish much.

There were several good laughs. The intro of Jesse running past Mabel as the cops chased him in a car got a pretty good one from me - it was very Wile E. Coyote. Donny and Betsy exuberantly engaging in some spanking play, only to have it interrupted by Tulip's unwanted violence was a clever twist. And Emily's wicked grin when she started playing "96 Tears" as the congregation filed out really made me laugh.

There were some really great dramatic scenes, too; Sheriff Root (Jesus Christ, can W. Earl Brown just win all the awards for his overall amazing body of work?) questioning Cassidy was an amazing sequence, both for Brown and Joseph Gilgun. The Angel Impostor's impression of Jesus was very well executed - he came across with just the right amount of "is this for fucking real? this IS real!...this can't be real" to keep the suspense going for as long as it did. And the brief reveal of Quincannon's meat daughter, along with finally and clearly showing us that he is a man crippled by grief and hate, was especially poignant.

All that good stuff wiped away by an inexplicable underground bunker of cowshit that made no sense at all.

But for all of the good stuff, there was Jesse's decision that murdering Carlos was ok now. Keep in mind, this happened prior to the revelation that God was missing, so the town's nihilism hadn't taken root yet. Why the sudden change of heart? "Yes, I'm intending to call God tomorrow, but today? Murder!"

There was the revelation that Tulip lost a baby to the aftermath of Carlos' envy - which should have had more impact than it did. Because Jesse and Tulip spent the entire season bickering, and all we ever saw was her childish and stubborn pining of him, I never felt any sort of connection to them as a couple, and therefore the fact that they suffered a miscarriage carried all the weight of two complete strangers having to deal with a tragedy. Yes, we pity them, but we don't really have an emotional stake in their sadness.

There's the teaser for what's undoubtedly a major part of next season's story, the Cowboy is on their ass now. And though we only spent maybe twenty minutes with the Cowboy throughout the entire season, it wasn't necessary that we spend any time with him at all. We didn't need his origin right now. We didn't need to know that he was in hell, or why. We didn't even need to see him before the final shot of the episode. If they'd wanted to hold back on the Saint for the entire season and only show him in those closing seconds, the show would not have been affected much. In fact, I think that would have actually been a hell of a lot cooler, and I guarantee the comic fans would have lost their shit when they got a surprise entrance from the Saint of Killers.

And once again, we saw Cassidy essentially defending the showrunners by invoking the Coens again, in another of own his Anti-Lebowski tirades. Now, here's the thing guys: 'The Big Lebowski' was silly and surreal and zany, but it still told a pretty simple story. And it told it well. It didn't waste a large portion of time with unnecessary stuff, and even when it stopped for a hallucination sequence, it still fit within the context of the characters. And it was funny! So if you're going to compare yourselves to anyone, don't compare yourselves to the fucking Coen Brothers. You've not earned that right yet. Not by a long shot.

Overall, I have to call this first season a pretty big failure. I'm pretty bummed about that. I love the comic - a lot. I had my doubts about the creative crew behind this series, and I fear that my doubts were well founded. It wasn't a complete failure; when it succeeded, it did so pretty admirably. But when it fell short, it fell way fucking short. And the first season is too early to start deliberately fucking with your audience, which is the only reason I can see for making the decisions they made to wrap up the finale.

Sam Catlin, Seth Rogen, Evan Goldberg: you have good actors and good source material. Fix this mess, or I won't be back for next season.



FINAL SCORES - Episode - 6/10
                               Season - 5/10

PREACHER - Ep. 9 - Finish The Song - A TV Review

Perhaps realizing that their paper is due in the morning, Catlin/Rogen/Goldberg finally stopped dicking around and put the pedal to the metal. A lotta shit went down in this episode, so let's see what's what now that the dust has settled, shall we?

 

Spoiler Warning - heads for the comic, tails for the TV show...

Jesus H. Christ, Emily...what the fuuuuuuuuuh....?

As far as unrequited love resolutions go, "feed Miles to convalescent vampire" was not exactly what I was expecting. Granted, my expectation for where next week's season finale is heading hasn't changed, despite Emily's decision to FEED MILES TO A GODDAMN VAMPIRE! I'm still pretty sure where things are going, ALTHOUGH MILES WILL MISS IT BECAUSE HE'S DEAD BECAUSE EMILY FED HIM TO A GODDAMN VAMPIRE!!

But in the end, it may not even matter. EXCEPT THAT IT DOES!!

Talk about your dark horses, man. I didn't think straight-up murder was in Emily's playbook, but if there's one thing this show is trying to teach you, it's that even the cute mom next door is capable of cold-blooded executions.

But all that being said, Miles may have had it coming a bit. And not because he is a rival to Jesse for Emily's affections, or because he was complicit in Quincannon's murder spree from a few episodes back. But because it really creeped me out the way he said "I'm staying over tonight" on the phone. The malignancy of the Miles' words comes across more in its intent than his actual tone. It wasn't exactly an explicit threat of rape, but it definitely felt like it was down the road from it. An expectation of sex, and Emily would have no choice. And perhaps that vague air of menace from Miles is what gave Emily the push she needed to feed him to a goddamn vampire.

And while Emily has been a soft touch, constantly presented in contrast to Tulip's unapologetic hard one, this week saw them both dispatching unwanted gentlemen, with Tulip finally clipping the dangling thread of Carlos. It's an interesting ride she's been on the last three episodes. While I'm mostly just grateful that she hasn't been nearly as annoying, seeing Tulip wash her hands of Jesse was unexpected. And it does point to her growth as a person that she's not sitting around Annville anymore waiting for Jesse to come to his senses (or at least, to Tulip's own deranged perception of what his senses should be). We're tricked, in the end, to think Tulip is listening to Jesse profess his love (really awkwardly, too) on her answering machine, but she's already in the ABQ, ending Carlos with a damn meat tenderizer.

Jesse, meanwhile, appears to be brushing up on his bro code, as he decides that apologizing to Cassidy should come with a complimentary mayoral corpse disposal. Cassidy's scenes with Jesse always shine with real chemistry within the banter, and this week is no exception. It was just made even more darkly funny by the fact that they forgave and forgot over Miles' exsanguinated body, and while Cassidy was looking like a 150-year-old football that goes to the tanning salon every day.


Aside from all this time spent with the core foursome, much of the main plot moved forward, and other previously disparate storylines have started to come together. The Seraph is back at full soccer-mom power, having been mercy-strangled by the bereaved Sheriff Root. Fiore and DeBlanc hilariously try to talk themselves into mustering the courage to return to Heaven (the coin toss was a bit of inspired comedy from Brook and Yusef), and finally the Saint...er, the Cowboy's role in all this is revealed.

The revelation that the Cowboy's been living in the Ratwater circle Hell, and having to relive what we can assume is the worst few days of his life was an interesting take on the inferno. It is a big departure from his origin in the books, and while that might have been outside their budget, I actually like this original idea. Though it's unclear how much the Cowboy understands of what is going on in every cycle, it would explain why he didn't seem in that big a hurry a few episodes back when his daughter's life was on the line. If she's always going to be dead when he gets home, why rush? But now he's got a couple angels there with a whole new target for him to gun down. We'll see how well that goes. I'm sure he'll bring his sword.


Overall, I feel like this may have been 'Preacher's best episode yet - or at least, it's most complete. It wasn't that it was particularly flabbergasting, though again - Emily fed Miles to a goddamn vampire, and that shocked the hell outta me - but it was, for the first time, a fully-realized and well-constructed, fluid story. And that, for damn sure, is progress.

Next week's the finale. And I'm pretty sure at this point, I'm gonna be pissed by the ending.

Cowboy-level pissed.


FINAL SCORE - 8/10

Preacher's Season Finale airs Sunday night at 9/8c on AMC

PREACHER - Ep. 8 - El Valero - A TV Review

Well, a lot of stuff definitely happened in this week's episode of 'Preacher'. The pieces moved for sure, just not very far. Let's break it down, ok?

Jesse goes all Butch Cassidy on your ass

Spoiler Warning - not just for the show, but for the comic it's based on, too. You be warned.

Last week I opined that despite episode seven ending with the promise of a violent altercation between the Quincannon faction and the Preacher, episode eight would somehow find a way to underwhelm. And to an extent, I was wrong. But also...not. For once, though, 'Preacher' didn't do much meandering this week. The story was pretty straightforward (if a little underwhelming), and the couple of subplots tied directly into other things we've seen this season. 

Nice day to assault a church in front of law enforcement

In the church, Jesse fends off Quincannon's goons like he's holding down the Alamo. When some men breach the inside of the church, in the aftermath we're told (no, we don't actually see) that Jesse quickly, efficiently, and brutally disarms them. I know the 'Preacher' production has a relatively limited budget, but sometimes it feels like we're not shown the action because they can't afford it. And even if that's the case, it should never feel that way. (The shark didn't work, but 'Jaws' sure as fuck did, because Spielberg knows how to tell a fluid story. My point is, even if the budget is the reason for not showing something, the not-showing-whatever shouldn't feel so jarring). But a lot is going on inside the church, even as Quincannon and his mean regroup outside and come up with ways to drag Jesse out. I mean, those boys need a food court, amirite?

Sidenote - I did love Donny's pretty clever, yet totally batshit crazy, plan to render himself immune to Jesse's powers. Given all we've seen of Donny this season, and they way they made it seem like he was suicidal, it was a pretty good payoff for an inconsistent subplot. Kudos.

While Jesse holds off the not-Mexican Army, he's interrupted by a few guests. The first is Eugene, who crawls up through the dirt and the hole in the floor Jesse tore open last week. These scenes were awkward, though one could argue it's deliberate. Jesse's words seem stiff, and his apologies feel a bit ham-fisted. But then you notice that Eugene's behavior is a little off, too. At first, he claims that Jesse's order compelled him to start climbing up (straight-up chill-inducing exchange: Jesse: You dug your way up from Hell?/Eugene: "it's not that far"), but when he mentions the angels he'd have no way of knowing existed, Jesse realizes Eugene is just a hallucination. (At first, given Eugene's insatiable desire for water, I thought maybe it was a demon making a play to sieze Genesis, but I guess I was wrong). But Eugene's question gives him an idea, and Jesse sends for DeBlanc and Fiore.

DeBlanc throws some withering shade at the Preacher

Trying to barter for Eugene's release from Hell, Jesse goes back and forth with the angels, desperate for an actual plan. This shows us, for the first time, despite all his talk about "doing good" and "saving the town", Jesse is just a man, fumbling in the dark, pretending to know what God wants. And this leads to him being confronted by perhaps the most pointed question in this young show's history.

With withering judgment, DeBlanc asks him, "Genesis, the greatest power ever known, and you've had it all this time, right there at the tip of your tongue. And what good have you done with it?" It's a question that leaves Jesse speechless, yet I feel like it can be applied to the show itself.

Catlin/Rogen/Goldberg have one of the most revered comic series of the last twenty years at their disposal, great actors, a great concept...and what have they done with it? I have an idea what they're aiming at, but I don't want to explicitly state it. But if I'm right...they'll be doing about as much "good" as Jesse's done.

And so, by the end of this week's story, despite the assaults, the violence, the gunfire and the one-man-against-an-army odds, the meaningful conversations and revelations not much has really changed. Jesse's in custody, but in the midst of talking his way out of it. Quincannon has ownership of the church, but looks like he might grant Jesse one last hail mary. Genesis is pulled out of Jesse but literally spends about a minute in the coffee can before bursting free again, leading DeBlanc and Fiore to simply walk away. And Cassidy and Tulip are just chillin' and eating a dog.

Wait, what??

RIP Brewski - the other kind of drink

This is, for me anyways, Ruth Negga's best episode both as a showcase of her abilities as an actress, and for her character. Her subplot is a great example of the writers doing exactly what I asked for last week - showing a character through actions, not words. Tulip shows herself as a loyal friend, an animal lover, capable of warmth and kindness and a certain bloody pragmatism. She spends the entire episode bonding with Brewski the dog, giving him one final glorious dog day before feeding him to what we assume is a convalescent Cassidy. Tulip has three good scenes with Brewski and though they don't make sense at first, they're short so they don't feel like they're derailing the main plot. But the way the final reveal that Brewski is just food for a vampire makes all that has come before it make sense is very well done. So I gotta tip my hat to the writers for that very excellent way of showing us that Cassidy is, in fact, still alive, and Tulip is capable of genuinely caring for someone, or something other than herself
.

And it also serves to keep the two of them away from the church...for now.

I have a dread feeling that I know what this entire season is building to -- and if you've read the comics, it's likely an event that honestly should have been in the pilot. And if not the pilot, then maybe like, the fourth episode. It's my theory that a good drama usually takes around four episodes to properly world-build and kick-off the story. The pilot gives you an overview of your main characters and the world they inhabit. Episodes two and three develop all characters a little bit more and offer you a deeper insight into your protagonist. Episode four should have a turning point of some sort that throws your season's main story arc into gear; some good examples of this are 'The Sopranos' episode "Meadowlands". 'Deadwood', "Here was a Man", and 'The Shield' which did it in episode five with "Blowback"

As for 'Preacher' if things pan out the way I suspect, then I think it has the potential to turn a lot of people off. And given the way the audience responded to 'The Walking Dead' fucking with them one too many times, I fear for the long-term fate of 'Preacher' if they do this. Second season renewals aren't set in stone. Just ask the producers of 'Vinyl'.

FINAL SCORE - 6.5/10

Preacher airs on AMC, Sunday nights at 9/8c

PREACHER - Ep. 7 - He Gone - A TV Review

As season one begins it's final four episodes, my feelings of hesitant concern have become not-so-hesitant, as we have another episode that meanders around before teasing a confrontation I've little doubt will underwhelm. But that's next week. Let's discuss this week.

Spoiler Warning: I'd say that this article contains spoilers for the episode, but that would imply something of note happened. It does, however, contain spoilers for the comic series. Just FYI.

There's a problem with 'Preacher'. True, not much really happened in this episode - DeBlanc and Fiore were not featured, but Quincannon returned, and is now apparently looking for a war. A lot of personal of relationships were explored, and some backstory was revealed. But a lack of action isn't the biggest problem. No, the problem I speak of is that it is unclear what, among those various, slowly sauntering plots of the episode, is relevant?

"He Gone" featured numerous flashbacks to Jesse's youth with his father, establishing the root of Jesse's compulsion to be a preacher, and his need to protect the church. It also featured another divergence from the comics - a young Tulip. In the comic, Jesse and Tulip did not meet each other until adulthood, however the series shows them not only being close friends, but Tulip living in Jesse's home for a time. And when social services takes her away, and John Custer does nothing to stop it, we get the revelation that Jesse angrily prayed to God that his father die, and was subsequently gunned down, creating a sense of guilt in Young Jesse's character.

I'm hesitant to even use the word "revelation", though, because we already saw John murdered* before Jesse's eyes in a previous episode. Being presented with the knowledge that Jesse was in the midst of a temper tantrum and prayed in a way that every child prays whenever they're angry with their parents doesn't make it particularly moving or relevant. Jesse may have felt guilt when he was nine years old, but does he still feel it as an adult? We haven't been shown anything that would indicate Adult Jesse is acting out of guilt or familial obligation. And if he is, it's pretty foolish to think that Adult Jesse would still believe his childish prayer was to blame for John's death. Yet apparently, this guilt is tremendously important to establishing who Jesse truly is.

*In the comics, John was murdered by a couple of goons named Jody and TC at the behest of Jesse's vile and wicked maternal grandmother. While the identity of the gunmen wasn't explicitly established in this episode, the triggerman sports a tattoo like the one Jesse's got on his back, given to him by a "mean old lady," as per last episode. I'm guessing Grandma. 

In contrast to the guilt he felt over his father is Jesse's reaction to Eugene's apparent banishment to Hell. The episode's opening shot is of the missing boy's church missal floating to the ground. Jesse looks back over his shoulder, and for a moment, displays a smug look of satisfaction with his new power. He doesn't know that Cassidy has witnessed the event, and when Cassidy calls him on it, Jesse shows not a shred of guilt. He argues that Eugene wasn't innocent, that he deserved it, and he gives the details of how Eugene got his face, and how Tracy Loach ended up in a vegetative state - for a moment, Jesse shows that tendency toward judgment that his father possessed ("She's an O'hare!" spat out by John in a flashback, like an insult). Cassidy calls bullshit, and while pushing Jesse to admit Eugene doesn't deserve hell, throws down a final gambit with the fire extinguisher that makes both his survival and Jesse's state of mind purposefully (and kind of dickishly, writers, if I'm being honest) ambiguous. It is a strong moment for Cassidy though, who is surprisingly becoming the debauched little moral compass of the show.

Back to Tulip for a moment. By diverging from the comic and bringing Tulip into Jesse's life at such a young age, it creates more of a sense that their relationship is what I've been calling it since the beginning: childish. As kids, Tulip makes Jesse use the line they use in the comic to profess their love: "till the end of the world". As adults, Tulip is arguing with Cassidy and shouts "he's my boyfriend" so that it sounds like the stubborn claim of the same child who held Young Jesse down and tried to lick his eyeball.

And while Emily has been presented as a pretty sharp contrast to Tulip, she is revealed to have a fairly immature attraction to Jesse as well. During their weird, quasi-family dinner, she more or less admits to having a crush on Jesse from the moment she laid eyes on him. "The moment I laid eyes on you" is one of those cliched phrases you usually only hear in movies and TV shows, and it makes it seem as though Emily is viewing Jesse through a romantic filter, rather than seeing him for the man he truly is. But both Emily and Tulip have a skewed perception of the Preacher, and both fail to notice how much the man is changing before them, until it becomes painfully obvious as he harshly insults them both. So really, by the end of the episode, the biggest development in the plot is that we're starting to see more clearly that Jesse is heading down a dark and dangerous road.


As I said before, I'm not sure what Jesse wants to do in Annville. He says he wants to save it, and now we kind of see why. But, "save it" is extraordinarily vague. And how he intends to do that, when he elects not to use the word on the congregation or a Quincannon who is demanding the church grounds is yet another mystery in a series that seems content to keep posing questions without answers. But the scarier problem is that I don't really care. There doesn't seem to be any urgency to his desire, so why should I? And I get annoyed that Catlin/Rogen/Goldberg are seeming to address this in Cassidy's anti-Lebowski** monologue when his diatribe reaches a climax with "plot matters!" Plot does matter, especially when you're dealing with a show of this nature.

**These jokers do not need to be comparing themselves to the Coen Brothers. The Coens have earned a ton of goodwill by telling wacky, crazy, meandering stories that still have interesting plots, 'Lebowski' among them. It's an arrogant comparison to draw.

Plot isn't just a series of scenes, or character explorations. Something has to actually happen or those characters you've spent all this time developing are not compelling enough to keep people watching. It has to go somewhere. We have a ton of questions and very few answers: what is Quincannon doing? Why does Tulip have such a hard-on for Carlos that she can't just let it go? Who killed John and why? The non-comic-reader has to be wondering what the fuck the Cowboy or the man in the white suit have to do with anything. Look, I'm ok with leaving questions out there to be answered in later episodes. I'm ok with setting up future storylines now. What I'm not ok with is focusing so much on setting up the future, that the present is rendered nearly pointless.

I'll be writing about last week's 'Outcast' soon, and for everything that 'Preacher' is doing wrong, that show is doing right. They're moving the plot along, leaving enough mysteries to keep you guessing, and still showing you who the characters are without beating you over the head with it.

Three episodes to go, and I'll stick with it through the end of this season. But I'm starting to feel like this final arc of episodes will prove to be just as meandering and ultimately pointless as much of the episodes that preceded it.

FINAL SCORE - 5.5/10

Preacher airs Sunday nights at 9/8c on AMC, if you care anymore.

PREACHER, Ep. 6 - Sundowner - a TV Review

Some questions get answered, a few more pop up, and my concerns grow a little more intense with this week's episode of 'Preacher'. Let's dive in, but DON'T kill it. Just restrain it.

Spoiler Warning - this review has spoilers up in hurr, up in hurr.

For a series that has been all about the slow burn, the first twelve or so minutes of Sunday's episode of 'Preacher' finally and explosively addressed a lot of just what the hell is going on here. And then the remaining thirty minutes returned to the slow burn.

Last week's episode left us with a sort of dual cliffhanger; Quincannon's murder spree, and Jesse finally coming face to face with DeBlance and Fiore. "Sundowner" picks up with the latter of the two (and spends the overwhelming majority of the episode ignoring the former) as Jesse finally learns the full nature of the Genesis power that's inside him.

Anatol Yusef as DeBlanc (L); Tom Brooke as Fiore (R)

Anatol Yusef, as the angel DeBlanc, grabs the mic in this scene and takes charge, giving Jesse's power a proper name (comic readers already know it's called "Genesis") revealing that it's the product of the love of an angel and a demon, and that it's power is the greatest the universe has ever known - apparently, including God himself (again, comic readers know that God is MIA while Genesis is on the loose, because He genuinely fears it). Yusef walks a fine line of delivering his deadly serious exposition with an off-kilter humor, and this sequence is the most we've seen of him thus far. As someone who loved his portrayal of Meyer Lansky on 'Boardwalk Empire', it's nice to see him get to stretch his legs a little bit in this very different territory. DeBlanc's droll delivery and working class British accent gives him a sort of charisma that clashes well with Fiore's more awkward, spastic nature.

Of course, all this exposition is instantly abandoned the moment Fiore notices a pretty little blonde seraph walk into the diner and chaos ensues. What follows is the most intense and hilarious action set piece that Preacher has yet to offer. DeBlanc, Fiore and Jesse are all capable fighters, but are clearly outmatched by this petite blonde who looks about 5'2" and a buck-twenty, soaking wet. It's a brutal fight, with the seraph being stronger, faster, and more vicious than all three men, yet it comes across with the sort of slapstick we'd usually see in a Three Stooges bit. Despite the bloodshed, the stakes aren't terribly high for this fight: Jesse obviously won't die, because he's the main character. But DeBlanc, Fiore, and the Seraph not only can die, but do. Repeatedly. And then respawn a few feet away with a whoosh and a flash of light. They're desperate to neutralize the Seraph without killing her, lest they have to start the fight all over again. And when Cassidy enters the fray, it only ratchets up the silliness.

It's a wonderful sequence of events, and among the strongest scenes the series has presented thus far. But if it moves the plot forward like a runaway locomotive, then the come-down afterward is like someone pulling the emergency brake. With the seraph "disarticulated", Jesse walks out on DeBlanc and Fiore, refuses to give up Genesis and goes back to his place, literally, to do laundry and drink beer. And the episode resumes it's typical languid, ponderous nature.

After the opening mayhem, the episode checks in on everyone else. At school, Eugene finds himself in an awkward position of not trusting the sudden flood of goodwill aimed his way. When some kids just want to sit with him at lunch, he is clearly uneasy and distrustful. Despite his wariness, he goes along with them into a drainage ditch after school, and though we're expecting them to jump him or insult him horribly, instead they just want to share their fireworks with him. As he stands there in the semi-darkness, watching the orange and red streams flickering through the air, there is a gentle poignancy to his single word response - "beautiful". Hindsight, of course, presents this foreshadowing moment with a horrific irony at the end of the episode.

Did we just become best friends??

In other news, Tulip confronts Emily with a deranged demand to "stay away from my boyfriend!". Emily is shocked and then insulted by Tulip's destruction of her child's "art thingie" and stands her ground, which seems to defuse the situation a bit. It's an interesting development, for sure, to see Emily and Tulip getting a long, but it did feel a bit forced. In the space of about three minutes, they go from screaming and threatening to offers of babysitting and Tulip being given the responsibility of preparing the church for this week's sermon. I am pleased to see a different aspect of Tulip's personality, I just wish it didn't seem so out-of-left-field. We've seen Emily be both strong and gentle, so her response to Tulip is much less surprising. And perhaps it's that gentleness that disarms Tulip enough for her to try to mend fences with Jesse's not-girlfriend.

Jesse, on the other hand, is preparing for church in an entirely different way. While setting up chairs, Jesse consults Mayor Miles, who is struggling with his own guilt about Quincannon's shooting spree. Miles presents the quandary that everyone who prays eventually comes across: when looking for guidance, how do I know when God is speaking to me and when it's just the regular voice in my head? Jesse's response is almost insulting in its simplicity; he tells Miles that we always know the difference, and we always know what the right thing to do is, it's just a matter of doing it. And yet, Jesse himself is clearly embarking on a path God wouldn't exactly endorse.

With a loudspeaker and a couple hundred chairs, Jesse is planning to remove free-will entirely from the question of faith in Annville. Despite the vocal reproaches of Eugene, Jesse is determined to "save" everyone through the sheer force of his Word. He knows the voice in his head isn't his own, and he knows it's actually part demon, but Jesse moves forward with his plan anyway, over Eugene's increasingly frantic claims that Jesse's plan is indeed a terrible sin. It's clear Jesse knows what he's doing is wrong, but he simply doesn't want to hear it. And when Jesse finally has had enough, he cruelly yells "GO TO HELL, EUGENE" and there is a frightening whoosh, the crackling sounds of flame, and Eugene Root disappears. Suddenly, the idea of fire in the dark doesn't seem so beautiful.

If this is truly the last we see of poor Arseface, then it's an incredibly frightening and bitter end for what has become the most endearing and heartbreaking character on the show. While actually sending people to hell was not among Jesse's powers in the comic (the most he could ever do in the books was instantly kill someone by saying "die") showrunners Catlin/Rogen/Goldberg have more than proven they're exploring unknown territory with this show; comic-Jesse could definitely be a brutal, yet principled, sonofabitch, but TV-Jesse is wading into terrifying and definitely immoral waters.

And while it could certainly be an interesting idea to explore, it's just another in a series of shocking left turns from this show that seems to go out of its way to go out of its way. There has yet to be any sort of consistent tone for the series, other than "weird" and very few threads of the various plots have born much fruit yet. We're sixty percent of the way through the first season, and I have no fucking idea where it's headed, but I can tell you this much: I'm concerned. Not every show has to follow the same sort of narrative formula, but I feel like it's safe to say when you've reached the halfway point of the first season, your audience ought to have some idea of what you're trying to do or say. Those things may slowly evolve or change drastically over time, but I feel like it's a good idea to give your viewer at least something to anchor the show. And so far, 'Preacher' hasn't done that. It's been a series of inconsistently satisfying or intriguing moments that have yet to coalesce into something that resembles a cohesive story.  So while I'll keep watching because I know enough about the backstory from the comics, I wonder how folks who are coming into this series totally blind feel about it. Is the show's meandering nature in danger of alienating the casual viewer? I wonder.


FINAL SCORE - 7.5/10

RIP Arseface???

'Preacher' airs Sunday nights at 9/8c on AMC.

PREACHER, Ep. 5 - South Will Rise Again - A TV Review

I've been in a much more 'Game of Thrones'y headspace this week, so I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get to last Sunday's episode of Preacher. But here we are, so let's go.

Spoiler warning - for the show and for the comic.

This week's episode was kind of a mixed bag, with most of the episode focusing on a group of men trying to rewrite their own nature. There were things to like about it, to be sure, but ultimately it felt a little aimless and like it created more questions than it answered. There are threads of stories that I can see stretching out, but I have no idea where they're headed, how they're related, and not even a whiff of how they can be resolved. Sometimes, we're not even sure they need to be resolved.

'South Will Rise Again' opened with an extended sequence about the Cowboy (The Saint of Killers, to the comic-readers). Even though it was exciting, I'm still not sure how this all relates to the main story. The scenes all certainly looked cool, and Graham McTavish certainly exudes the dangerous not-to-be-fucked-with attitude that the Saint stood for, but despite that excitement, my mind kept wandering. More than once, I found myself distracted by his unhurried pace, even as ultimate resolution of the scene became obvious.

When last we saw, the Cowboy was riding to Ratwater for medicine for his dying daughter. When he's told he must wait until morning for the medicine, it seems to be too long for him. Yet when it's time to go, he rides his horse slowly - cinematically. When things go bad for the Cowboy, and he loses his horse, he simply walks home - again, very slowly. So, of course, when he finally arrives home, his daughter and his wife are both dead. He grabs up his gunbelts and rifle and, we assume, heads back to Ratwater to take vengeance on...his own unrushed pace? I'm not sure. But in a subplot that is completely separate (for now) from the main storyline, 'Preacher' can't afford distractions, and this sequence was loaded with them.

In present day Annville, Jesse holds court in the local diner. With word having spread about the sudden conversion of Odin Quincannon, Jesse enjoys a sort of celebrity, and takes the opportunity to preach to people away from his usual pulpit, and his parishioners seem to be paying closer attention. What makes it interesting though, is that Jesse comes across as almost drunk with power. He uses the Word to settle disputes and dispense advice on matters as trivial as parents bickering over when bedtime should be for the kids, and something as serious as forcing Mrs. Loach to forgive Eugene Root for his role in what happened to her comatose daughter. It may seem like he's doing good, but Jesse's actions are enough to give Emily pause, to raise Tulip's ire, and to bring DeBlanc and Fiore calling.

It seems pretty clear at this point that Tulip is just straight-up not a good person. She does not care at all about what Jesse wants, and seems bound and determined to undermine his status within the community in a way that paints her spiteful and petulant much moreso than loving girlfriend she claims to be. This, of course, becomes even more apparent after she revenge-bangs Cassidy, who has no idea that the boyfriend she's been going on about is Jesse.

Emily's role seems to be clarifying, too. It's obvious that she has feelings for Jesse that are only growing more complicated as he explores his new powers and keeps them a secret from her. But when even something as innocuous as her using Jesse's bathroom is enough to make Tulip jealous, then Emily's position as a corner in this evolving love triangle is cemented.

Mostly separate from the events in Annville this week, Odin Quincannon had a hilarious and shocking storyline. Having seemingly adopted a new Christian outlook on life, Jackie Earle Haley rendered Quincannon nearly unrecognizable behind his smile and downright friendly demeanor. His genuine earnestness, when juxtaposed with his previous laconic style made for some pretty successful humor, and I have to give props to Haley for just going all-in with Quincannon this week. It worked on multiple levels, but most effectively with Quincannon's solution to his business problem. After welcoming his competitors into his office with smiles and drinks all around, Quincannon quickly pulls out a shotgun and mows them all down in seconds.

Well, a man can't be expected to change his nature overnight can he?

Despite Jesse's advice in the pilot episode causing his parishioner to literally "open his heart", Jesse hasn't seemed to learn yet that simply telling someone what to do isn't the end of his work. He can't rewrite who a person is, deep down inside, just by giving orders. Quincannon proves that. Jesse telling that rotten old bastard to "serve God" doesn't make him a Christian, and people die because of Jesse's shortsightedness. So while the Preacher's intentions might be mostly noble, he's going to have to learn to be more careful with not only what he says, but to whom he's saying it; enter DeBlanc and Fiore.

Tom Brooke and Anatol Yusef provide a spot of comic relief this week, as they desperately plot their course before they answer the relentlessly ringing divine phone. For most of the episode, they are cowering in their hotel room, going over what to say and exactly how to say it - the proper inflections being of paramount importance. And when the phone stops ringing a brief moment before Fiore answers it, their hands are forced and they go to meet with Jesse and discuss Genesis. I'm growing pretty used to the serialized nature of TV these days, but the sudden shift from their conversation to Quincannon's office and then the end credits felt jarring and unsatisfying.

With this week's story, showrunners Catlin and Rogen/Goldberg have shown that they can tell a complex and multi-layered tale. But as we near the halfway point of the season, there are still so many threads that appear to be heading in diverging directions that it makes me worry a bit for the actual plot. Not enough to say "I'm out" or even to discourage others from watching - we're not even near that crisis point yet. But I am getting a little bit concerned. So we'll see where things head next week.

FINAL SCORE 7/10

PREACHER, Ep. 4 - 'Monster Swamp' - A TV Review

Sunday night was batshit bonkers, y'all. You had the NBA Finals game 7, LeBron vs. Curry; you had the highly anticipated and penultimate episode of Game of Thrones' sixth season, Jon Snow vs. Ramsey Bolton (seriously? Ramsey has basically just gone full Joker here at the end); and so it was easy for 'Preacher' to get overshadowed by those things. But even stacked against its competition, Sunday's episode was pretty good. So let's talk about it, shall we?

SPOILERS - There are spoilers for this episode, for Game of Thrones, and some comic book spoilers, too. Y'alls is warned.

If "Battle of the Bastards" was about giving us exactly what we expect (and totally want, because eat a giant's fist, Ramsey!), then "Monster Swamp" is about subverting those expectations at every turn.

From the beginning, the episode starts with the vibe of a cliché horror movie. A young, scantily clad woman runs through a seemingly empty town, followed by a menacing man with a gun. The only other people she can find are other girls, hiding, frightened, and desperate. And when she's finally cornered by the gunman, and a gunshot rings out (in hindsight, this particular point makes no sense, since paintball guns are air guns, and not powder-based, but that's me being a nerd) it's a paintball gun, and the girl is in no danger from the friend who's "hunting" her. That is, until she plummets to er death through a surprise sinkhole on the QM&P grounds.

Opening Credits

Jesse isn't expecting to start his day by hearing that Cassidy's both a vampire and is working at the behest of angels trying to reclaim the entity squatting on the preacher's soul, so he brushes it off, focusing instead on how to get people into church* on Sunday. He barely notices the encore appearnce of Cassidy's hilarious rice-hat/poncho ensemble, before deciding the church needs a high profile raffle to boost attendance.

*Jesse and Reverend Anderson of 'Outcast' are both dealing with the same problem - getting butts into the pews. Jesse hasn't gotten there yet, but before long, he'll join Anderson in no longer needing to call it "faith" so much as "hard, concrete knowledge of the divine, etc." But still...I'd kill for these two characters to sit around, drink whisky and bitch about their parishioners.

Back at the sinkhole, we probably shouldn't expect Odin Quincannon to make any sort of sentimental speech, though circumstances dictate a normal man do that very thing. But Odin is anything but normal; he mostly just seems annoyed that he has to take time out of his day to basically deliver a "you kids settle down, now" speech to a group of mourners and gawkers.

Though "Monster Swamp" gives us our best look at Quincannon yet, he's still a mystery. In the flashbacks, we don't know why John Custer tried to 'save' him, or what exactly was going on. In the present, we don't know why Jesse spends time with him painting toy soldiers, or what in the fuck is going on in his combination abattoir/power plant. But we get a better glimpse into his person. He's definitely not a religious man, yet he keeps the company of two preachers, so clearly there's more to his odious personality than meets the eye. Yet despite the company Odin keeps, he's still terrible enough to piss in the mayor's briefcase because he had lunch with the competition. But Jesse's determination to turn Quincannon into a servant of God, come hell or high water, indicates there's a lot more to come from the QM&P storyline.

In another ongoing subplot, Emily may or may not expect Jesse to ever understand the way she looks at him, but she was sure expecting something when he leaned in close to kiss pull some trash from her hair. And Emily caught us all off guard a few times in just a few minutes later on in the episode. Prior to the scenes with her and Miles, I found myself wondering "have we seen Emily's husband? is she even married?" Then moments later, she comes home from work with Jesse's giant for-raffle TV, and is greeted by Miles in a series of tableaux intended to create multiple assumptions about their relationship:

Marriage (how much did that cost? are the kids asleep?)

A babysitter (you got here at 4:30, how much do I owe you?)

An unrequited lover (I'm never going to be with you. You know that, right?)

An actual lover (Out before morning, kids almost caught you last time.)

As much as Quincannon is a mystery to the audience, it soon becomes clear, we don't know anything about Emily, or almost anyone else in this show.

And though we assumed they'd been sent by heaven, we find out instead that the angels DeBlanc and Fiore have actually gone rogue in an effort to clean up their mess before anyone in the Host finds out. On Earth, the two grow impatient with Cassidy's machinations, and seem worried that Dad is going to find out what they're up to down here. They expect their informant to help them out, but instead, they end up sitting in a motel watching TV (Fiore heading to the front desk to request a "Big As Texas" burger was some pretty inspired comedy) Then, once it's revealed, we expect their little hotline to heaven to ring any moment, but we get faked out. When it rings again, we're expecting another red herring, but it's a legit call. Ruh roh, boys...

And instead of annoying me, Tulip spends this episode growing increasingly agitated by the nonchalance of Quincannon's goons. When she finally blows her stack, it's Cassidy who pays for it. And while Tulip is expecting Cassidy to die and is totally freaking out, the audience isn't worried and is able to chuckle when he cons a kiss out of her. What will come of her finding Cassidy sucking down bags of blood, though, is anyone's guess.

I'm not sure whether or not the young girl in the flashback of Jesse being pressured into trying a cigarette is Tulip, but that's certainly the implication that's made. It's terrible that Jesse gets punished in front of his friends, but if it is Tulip, then she certainly didn't seem to learn anything by seeing Jesse catch hell because of her actions. She was trying to get him to do bad things then, and she's still trying to get him to do bad things now. That Jesse can resist her temptations may be owed to the lessons his father may have taught him - not with a belt, but with the sight of him on his knees seconds before being murdered.

Jesse's flashbacks show the kind of man John Custer was - devoted preacher, stern and strict father, and...someone, somehow related to a younger Odin Quincannon. When Jesse spends his own time with Odin, we know he can use the Word to make Odin go to church. Odin points out that that wouldn't be very Christian of him and Jesse seems to relent. It's a fair point, as faith without choice is no faith at all; we think we know what line Jesse wouldn't cross, but when it's clear he's lost his bet with Quincannon, Jesse cheats. And suddenly, what we expected of him is quite different from what he does.

And the Raffle itself - for all the comic readers out there, I bet you thought exactly like me; that when Jesse finally got everyone in town into that church to try to win that TV, that would be when Genesis would fully reveal itself and blow everyone but Jesse straight to hell. But - that didn't happen either. Like I said, the entire episode was about subverting (or in some cases, perverting) both the expectations of the characters and the audience. And if that's the case, then it seems like a fairly clear message.

Don't bother trying to predict the future for this weird-ass show.

FINAL SCORE 8/10

Preacher airs on AMC, Sunday nights at 9/8c.

PREACHER - Ep. 3 'The Possibilities' - A TV Review

Spoilers, y'all - Fairly self-explanatory spoiler warning. 

This first season of 'Preacher' has been a rather up-and-down ride, so far, although I'll concede it's still early. I wasn't that into the first episode, I really liked the second, and now I have sort of middling feelings about the third. There's a lot of stuff going on, to be sure, the clarification of a couple of mysteries, and the introduction of some more.

The episode's prologue gives us a mystery Houston woman who needs something from Tulip (something marked with "Grail Industries" which immediately leads to the tangential introduction of comic antagonist Herr Starr, and his...questionable taste in pornography) and who gives Tulip a tip on the location of someone named Carlos, who wronged both Jesse and Tulip in some way. But I'm going to get back to this later.

Hooray! Actual opening credits now! And they're not half bad, either. I like the little Ratwater bottle you see with the silhouette of The Saint of Killers. It's good stuff!

Then we get to Sheriff Root questioning DeBlanc and Fiore who pretend to be federals on the trail of a fugitive or "something like that". It's a comic scene, both for their misleading dialogue and juxtaposition with Root's sincerity. But Root is most definitely concerned about the thing they're hunting, and he tells a ghastly tale that informs his paranoia about the dangers of every day life. The angels shenanigans are consistently pretty entertaining (in this episode, they dress like little kids playing ATF), and I get the feeling that they might adopt a sort of 'Kenny' role on the show - constantly getting killed only to show up again in a burst of light.

In an interesting turn, we get to see a brief check-in on the three lives Jesse has touched so far in the series - Tracy (the comatose girl), Donny, and Linus - all worse for the wear. Tracy's eyes are opened after last week's cliffhanger, indicating she can at least follow Jesse's word, but there's no other activity present, and it's painful to see her mother hold on to hope for improvement that won't be coming. Donny talks with his son (who mistook his parents bedroom antics for abuse) and finds out the whole town is aware Jesse kicked his ass. Donny catches some abuse at the hands of Quincannon, too, who gives the one-armed man an impossible task and then mocks him for it. And Linus wears a bandage over half his face and comes off even creepier to the poor girl he's just supposed to ignore, because he know longer remembers her at all. If Jesse's determined to do good as a Preacher, he's off to a rough start.

Then, we get to see Cassidy navigating life as the church's handyman, while still hiding his vampirism and severe allergy to sunlight. Seeing him make the trip to a crematorium in a poncho and rice hat was worthy of a good laugh, and it's nice to see him not only acquiesce to doing actual chores, but also being mildly respectful toward Emily.

But once again, the highlight of the episode is the duo of Jesse and Cassidy. The bros have a discussion about Jesse's newfound power. Jesse tries it out, and Cassidy's amused laughing while hops, cops to liking Justin Bieber, and throws himself against the wall is followed up by the genuine concern Jesse shows him after he mildly injures himself. It's a light, yet rich scene which creates not only a sense of camaraderie between the two but also seems like the foundation of real friendship.

So then once we've checked in on all the main players, they can go about their business of furthering the plot. Tulip continues to be a devil on Jesse's shoulder, relentlessly badgering him to join her on a vengeance run. Cassidy generally acts as an advocate for Jesse once he's filled in on the nature of Genesis as well as DeBlanc and Fiore - although he's clearly got an angle for himself. And Jesse is tempted to use his power for ill - twice in fact. Once, when Tulip spills the beans on Carlos, and then again when Donny corners Jesse in a gas station bathroom.

In a both enthralling and terrifying-in-its-implications scene, Jesse lets Donny think he's in charge for a brief moment, before making him sit on a toilet, put his gun in his mouth and pull back the hammer. Whether Jesse intended to kill him or just scare him is unclear, but he doesn't. But Jesse is sobered by the depth of his power, and his near immediate capacity to use it for ill. So when he makes the choice not to kill Donny, he also makes the choice to spare Carlos...for now. He's honest in his attempt to go straight. Which brings us back to Tulip.

I've made no attempt to hide the fact that I don't care for Ruth Negga's portrayal, but I'm starting to feel like it's deliberate. It's not just that I don't like her, it's that Tulip is just...not likeable. And though her contempt for Carlos seems justified - after all, it's nearly enough to get Jesse on his way to torture and murder the poor bastard - the deranged way she delivers the line "that was the day it all went bad [for Jesse and me]" almost comes across as someone looking for someone or something to blame for the end of her relationship with Jesse. We don't know the circumstances of how they ended up apart, but the way Negga plays it, it comes across like she's grasping at straws, trying to return to the way things were.

When Tulip continues to deride and denounce Jesse's "positive" choices, though we assume she loves him (because he's a male lead character, and she's a female lead character, and they were in love in the comic book) she mostly just seems to want to use him. She's got her beef with Carlos and we've seen she's a capable killer in her own right, so if it was just about taking out Carlos, she could do that. But she wants to bring Jesse into the bloody dirt with her. And that...well, it doesn't seem like it's a good foundation for a relationship. And so, series-wise, it makes me wonder if she's really going to be meant to be Jesse's OTP. Can you be OTP's with a shitty person? I mean, in real life, sure, but in a TV show? Dunno.

So it was a pretty entertaining episode in a lot of respects, but it does feel like it retraced a lot of the same ground as the last one - particularly with regards to Quincannon (we get it, he's a sadistic asshole) and with Tulip and Jesse's coupling. She wants him to be a bad man again, and he doesn't want to change. The episode also introduced a major player-to-come in a way that makes little sense if you haven't read the comics. And I question (at this point, three episodes in, and it may start to work later on) the wisdom of continuing to do things that comic readers will instantly get, and the rest of the audience will be left in the dark. Does it work to create an air of mystery, or does it just make them feel like you're wasting a chunk of 42 valuable minutes?

We'll see.



FINAL SCORE - 7.5/10

Preacher airs on AMC, Sunday nights at 9/8c.

PREACHER - Ep. 2, 'See' - A TV Review

SPOILER WARNING - I will be discussing events explicitly from both this episode of the AMC series 'Preacher' and the comic series 'Preacher'. So if you don't like it, GTFO.

WOW! What a difference another episode makes. While the pilot had a meandering feeling to it that made the direction of the episode seem unclear, this episode was focused, well-paced, and far better constructed than anything we'd previously seen. The pilot's flaws also called attention to its divergence from the source material. Episode two, titled 'See' diverged even further from any of the comic's early story arcs, but was still so interesting on its own merit that I didn't even care. The acting and tone of the show were eased back a little, though still fairly outrageous, and yet it made all the difference.

Dominic Cooper's performance is much more subtle in this episode. Rather than playing as if he's hiding his past from everyone, he plays as though he's fighting his past, denying it even to himself. He starts this episode doling out front yard baptisms. Everyone plays along with the notion that water can wash away sins, but it's clear that no one, including Jesse the baptist, really truly believes in it. That becomes evident when Eugene (a.k.a. Arseface, whose nickname's foundation was laid in this episode) goes to see the Preacher to let him know the post-baptismal euphoria had worn off.

The late night drink Jesse shares with Cassidy, in one of the episode's strongest scenes, underscores the theme of the episode - fate versus free-will, and nature versus choice. Jesse is the subject of most of this conflict, with Tulip is on one side of the argument, constantly nagging at Jesse to give in to his baser impulses, and ironically, Cassidy, the vampire, is on the other. The creature of the night sits there arguing that Jesse isn't a puppet in God's master plan, and that he can take charge of his own life.

And while Jesse seems to finally decide which version of himself he can be, torturing the not-so-poor Linus with scalding water to rid him of his pedophile impulses, Jesse discovers the power of his Word.

The comic made Jesse's power, what they called 'the word of God' pretty clear from the jump off, but this episode teases out it's effectiveness pretty well throughout. From his inadvertent silencing of everything around his church, to the cliffhanger of whether or not it will work on a comatose young girl (who may or may not have some kind of connection to Arseface) the use of the Word and the teasing of the power of Genesis were both handled pretty well here.

The mysterious duo from last week, DeBlanc and Fiore also make a much more prolonged appearance in this episode. Finally out of the shadows and played by Tom Brooke and Anatol Yusef, the two angels (it's not clear yet that they're angels within the show, but the comic establishes them as divine in the opening issue) have a wild and crazy night as they attempt to extract Genesis from the extraordinarily drunk Jesse. During an ultraviolent and surprisingly hilarious brawl with Cassidy, the duo take turns slicing up the Irish vampire with varying degrees of success. But even their divine power is no match for Cass, and they end up butchered with a chainsaw and buried in a trunk out in the middle of the desert...

Until they're shown, alive and well and talking to Sheriff Root in one of the final moments of the episode. To the non-comic viewer, it's a solid tease - who the fuck are these guys? and more importantly, what are they??

And speaking of good teases, let's talk about the episode's prologue, which gives us a glimpse at the origin of the Saint of Killers, credited now only as "the Cowboy". We barely got a look at Graham McTavish's face, but damn if his wardrobe and makeup aren't absolutely spot-on perfect. With only a couple of minutes of screen time, we learn several things about this man - he's hard, he's tough, he's under no illusions about the "wonder of God's work", but he's got a family. And he's willing to ride a dangerous trail to save his daughter from illness. I can't wait to see more of the Saint's story, but I do wonder - in the end, will it be more effective to tell his story before we've already come to fear his deadly power? Would it work better to fear him, and maybe even hate him, before we know it's ok to pity him? I'm very curious to find out.

Not all was wine and roses in this episode, though. Ruth Negga continues to bug the shit outta me, with her annoying presence, and the way any momentum in the show comes to a screeching halt any time she shows up. She plays Tulip like an annoying child, hassling the older brother to take her out to play. The one good thing I can say is that the way they're developing her character, showrunners Rogen and Goldberg may be setting her up to not be the pure-hearted love interest of the comics at all. They may be going a darker route entirely. Which would be interesting.

 And as much as I love Jackie Earle Haley and would literally watch him read a phone book, the introduction of his portrayal of meat kingpin Odin Quincannon was underwhelming. It is strictly an introduction of his face and little else. We see him buy a house and immediately bulldoze it...and that's about it. There's very little to establish who he is or what he is. It was a scene that felt as muddled and pointless as much of the pilot. But hopefully, that'll get rectified pretty quickly.

This was a damn solid episode, but even if it wasn't, if a show can end an episode on a strong note - one that makes me shriek or gasp or yell out "no!!" to the TV because I can't stand to wait to see what happens - that's usually a pretty good sign. It means I've become fully invested in the story. And Jesse trying to use his power to wake up the gravely injured girl achieved that response. And I'm glad it did. I am genuinely excited for next Sunday's episode.


FINAL SCORE - 8/10

Preacher airs on AMC, Sunday nights at 9/8c

PREACHER - Pilot - A TV Review

The premiere of AMC's 'Preacher' premiered last Sunday, and I'm going to try to review each episode within a couple of days of it airing. I'm still new to this, so work with me here.

SPOILER WARNING - I'll be discussing spoilers not only for the TV series but for the comic as well.

Well, that was...something.

I'm trying, REALLY trying to not compare Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg's adaptation of the classic comic series to the comic itself...but it's hard. But because most of this first episode can only be described in one of the worst ways one can describe a pilot - which is to say 'boring' - I'm left with little choice but to compare the two. It's only been one episode, so while the story appears to have changed (and basically only covers maybe the first third of the first issue of the comic book) it's going to be hard to dissect how much it's different in the long haul.

Issue no. 1

Tonally, it's very different. Though it's based on a comic book, it feels a lot more comic booky than the actual source material. There are moments that are like schlocky sci-fi, some like a grim crime drama, some like a gonzo action movie, and some that are basically just slapstick humor. The comic book definitely had a humorous edge at time, but when it went serious, goddamn...shit got serious. We haven't seen enough of this series yet to see what kind of tone the show will stick with, or if they'll keep on changing things up.

The characterization of the main trio is fairly different, too. The backbone of the characters remain the same, but like Vincent Vega says, it's just a little different. While Jesse's goings-on in Annville firmly establish what life is like in the sleepy Texas town, it tweaks a few things. At first, you'd think the changes don't appear to make a huge bit of difference, but they do - they strike at the characterization of the protagonist. Jesse is basically introduced as a Jason Bourne-type figure, hiding out in a preacher's outfit, and barely hiding his secret identity. A kid comes to him for help for his mother (in an interesting twist, it turns out she is far from needing Jesse's help) and the kid's father has "heard all about" Jesse's past. It paints him as a fairly well-known quantity rather than the mysterious but troubled preacher that issue #1 presents.

Then there's Tulip O'Hare, Jesse's one-time paramour turned hitwoman isn't an skittish assassin, running from her first botched job. Like Jesse, she borders on superhuman abilities, like...well, also like Jason Bourne. Mixed with some MacGyver. When trying to take out some bad guys in a helicopter, she fashions a makeshift bazooka out of coffee cans and duct tape, entertaining a couple of kids she's endangered by keeping up her sunny disposition and peppy speech patterns. It's actually quite annoying, and easily the worst thing about the pilot. And having Tulip already reconnected with Jesse prior to the start of the series, the elements of destiny and happenstance in their reunion are removed from the story. Also...I just don't like Ruth Negga. Didn't like her on Agents of SHIELD, don't like her now.

L to R: Cassidy, Jesse, Tulip

Which brings us to Cassidy. Ah, Cassidy..well, they don't attempt to hide the fact that he's a vampire at all. While the comic took a couple of issues to spill that secret, the pilot drops that info on you right from the start. Not only is he a vampire, but there is apparently some kind of powerful mob chasing him down, so there's a subplot that wasn't present in the comics. He's also a little sillier and a lot more cartoony than the comics, where he had a dryer wit and a less generic psychopath look.

Plot-wise, the biggest departure from that first issue is that Genesis, the all-powerful half-angel/half-demon, once bonded with Jesse, doesn't immediately incinerate his entire flock. While this may not seem to be too big a deal, keep in mind that in the book, once the omnipotent entity merged with Jesse, 200 people died. And that is something Jesse carries with him throughout their journey - a potent mix of anger and guilt and enough blame to go around. Instead, the ending seems to promise that he's going to do something more pedestrian with his fledgling powers like fix all the bad shit that's going on in Annville.

Perhaps the brighest spot, and the one aspect of the pilot that really stuck closely to the source material is Sheriff Root's son, who will come to be known as Arseface. AF's story in the comic book is frequently a source of sometimes cruel and sometimes warmhearted humor, and it seems that is the tone they're using here.  The series could have made his makeup more gruesome or disgusting, but they go the route of 'less is more'. He still has his trademark mouth, but his jovial nature and kind acceptance during Jesse's visit shine through the prosthetics and makes him a very likeable character nearly immediately.

Comic vs. Prosthetics

With its first issue, "Preacher" clearly establishes an outline for the rest of the journey that the subsequent 75 issues will cover. It sets up Jesse, Tulip, and Cassidy, Genesis, the trio's search for God, the entities for and against them, and creates an endgame the series works toward.

The first episode of the series barely sets much up at all. We're introduced to the characters but don't learn much about them, except that they all have ninja-like abilities. Genesis is not explained or explored, and we have no idea what kind of journey, or if there will even be a journey for our protagonist trio embark upon. So with that being said, I didn't much care for the pilot of 'Preacher'. I'll stick with it, at least through the first season, so I can keep writing these things. And who knows, maybe it'll round into form after a few episodes. Maybe it'll be the kind of show that benefits from binge-watching.

And then again, it's Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg, so...maybe not.


PREACHER - PILOT - FINAL SCORE - 6/10