(This post contains spoilers. You can read my thoughts on previous episodes of True Detective, season two, here.)
Christopher Nolan’s The Prestige opens with a silent pan over dozens of black top hats discarded in the woods. Before we can ask ourselves what it is we think we’re seeing, Michael Caine juts in: “Are you watching closely?”
Nolan cuts to black and the film takes off. It’s an hour and a half — and a superb David Bowie cameo — later before we return to those abandoned hats. Perhaps the best trick in a film full of them is the deception of its opening shot: The audience forgets about those hats in the woods entirely.
Nolan also used this trick in Insomnia, revealing one of his story’s biggest secrets moments into the film — well before we knew what to do with the information. In his later non-superhero works Inception and Interstellar, Nolan trades slick trickery for wide, sweeping takes on the greater faculties of the human mind. He sheds his cunning for his ability to conceive. Considering his last feature ended with Matthew McConaughey sending Jessica Chastain SOS signals from a parallel dimension, a return to Earth and the mischief of man would be nice from Nolan — whenever Warner Brothers unshackles him from their basement floor.
The second season of True Detective opened unceremoniously looking out over deserted farm land on the outskirts of Los Angeles. Abandoned mines turned to private property. There must be secrets hiding on (or underneath?) that land.
As the season premiere bled on, we were introduced to Frank Semyon, a man whose life’s work had been stolen from him and who will stop at nothing to secure his deal with the devil. He tells one prospective business partner he wants to start “one of those California families” where future generations blink and forget where all the money came from.
True Detective was coming to L.A. and going right for the jugular. It’s a city of bullshit artists built by con men and the never-ending supply of wealth that supports the whole system. It never rains, yet Semyon is kept up at night by the unannounced water stains on his ceiling. The whole damn thing — including the highly fictional city of Vinci — is phony, made of papier–mâché.
Three episodes later and Nic Pizzolatto hadn’t written us back to those abandoned mines. We saw former Vinci city manager Ben Caspere go full Weekend at Bernie’s, and as the show’s trio of all-star detectives met in conjoined misery over the complications of the case during the past three weeks, we all forgot about the show’s opening sequence. What the hell is up with that land?
For good reason, all anyone wants to talk about with “Down Will Come” is the machine gun-intensive set piece that closed out the episode. It echoed Cary Fukunaga’s accomplishment from last season’s “Who Goes There” but for all the wrong reasons — down to both episodes being the halfway point for their respective seasons. The senseless violence, as Alan Sepinwall wrote Monday, was not grounded in the plot of the show. Like most of the scenes in “Down Will Come,” the raid-gone-wrong read like gibberish.
Grantland’s Chris Ryan, who rides for the show more than anybody covering pop culture, was disappointed by Pizzolatto’s decision to retread last season’s tracks. Leaving the American Romance of the Bayou for the edge of civilization known as Los Angeles was a good look for True Detective. Along with its fresh setting, it was discernible that the audience could expect a brand new story, one that took advantage of its unending list of optics and aesthetics. But on his dismount from the show, Fukunaga took with him the singular filmic vision and commitment to setting he and his team provided True Detective.
It would be inappropriate to say Fukunaga was carrying Pizzolatto’s story over eight episodes last year, but the show’s lack of visual cohesion in season two has left Pizzolatto’s heavy dialogue too often standing in its underwear. It doesn’t always feel like we’re in Los Angeles or, more importantly, that these characters are in the same show.
Ryan posed the question to his colleague Andy Greenwald on the Hollywood Prospectus podcast: Have Kelly Reilly and Taylor Kitsch even been on set together? The plot lines of the Semyon infertility blame game and Paul Woodrugh’s heartbreak warfare may never converge. However, they should at least feel like they take place in the same world.
Let me stop right here and say clearly: I love this show. It’s audacious and irritable and messy. Frank threatening mob types with his perfect dental record or Ray Velcoro’s glove box o’ fun. Woodrugh’s single tear running down his face on his “morning after” cab ride. “Those moments stare back at you,” Ani Bezzerides says to her sister about their late mother. “You don’t remember them but they remember you.”
There isn’t another show like True Detective with its blunt force, frequently unintelligible logic and laundry list of incredible actors — from the movie stars to Emily Rios (Breaking Bad, The Bridge) as the corrupted mayor’s daughter and David Morse as West Coast Learned Man Eliot Bezzerides. As Frank says to Ray during their routine checkup appointment at their favorite dive bar, “Sometimes your worst self is your best self.” The paradox of True Detective is its artwork.
I’m not dissuaded by the show’s lack of interest in solving the murder of Ben Caspere. Truthfully, and I’m not alone in saying this, I don’t care about Ben Caspere. I tune into True Detective to watch players play: moments like Colin Farrell and Taylor Kitsch in the squad car as Kitsch’s Woodrugh bares his soul about the brainwashing he’s suffered just to make it in the military and as an officer; laughing at lunatic Frank shout “Congratulations, we’re club owners again!” at his wife after a humiliating business meeting; the brilliant beat in the bar as Frank and Ray stop and listen to the gloomy songwriter.
“Down Will Come” was the shakiest episode yet in terms of plot points. Where did the lead on the snatched jewelry come from? Why were the paparazzi waiting for Woodrugh outside his hotel? Why didn’t they clear the protestors before raiding a building full of armed crazies?
If there is one story to follow, in my opinion, it’s whatever is underneath that land from the season’s opening shot. It’s inconclusive how Ani and Ray stumbled upon that lead 45 minutes into “Down Will Come,” and after the fireworks of the episode, I’m not so sure these detectives have much longer to work on the case in an official capacity.
But perhaps that’s a blessing in disguise. Ray was convinced from the jump that these detectives are merely pawns in the system, that they weren’t brought in to solve the case. If next week’s preview is any indication, episode five will feature a jump ahead in time, where Ani, Ray and Paul may be freed from the shackles of California politics. Maybe they’ll finally be allowed to do some police work. They can actually start digging up those abandoned mines. In the meantime, I hope they’ll be watching closely.
