Episode 6 was almost more than I could bear. The beginning was so happy, all the band of friends drinking and laughing in camaraderie, and John finally relaxing and smiling and laughing for the first time in the series. His acting is so superlative-he conveys every nuance of being slightly dazed, buzzed, happy in a tremulous kind of way as if aware of how rare it was and how fleeting it would be, and relieved and glad to have given up his insistence on independence and allowed himself instead to luxuriate in the support of his family and friends.
But then things start to slip when he's accosted on the street by the three defective cops from Milwaukee who have come looking for him. After getting Norman to punch out the "normal" one, all that earlier relaxed happiness morphs into a wild, hysterical drunken flight through the streets and subway, chased by the tiny cop who John holds off at arm's length while laughing uncontrollably. The extent to which the situation has lurched out of control becomes even more apparent in the next scene, where John, drunk and stoned, is bizarrely oblivious of the fact that he hasn't closed the door of the taxi he and his friends are escaping in--it remains wide open as they accelerate away. During the whole episode, his rambling, slightly incoherent speech, his lapses of memory, his confused, befuddled expression, and his drunken movements are perfect--a bravura performance made even more impressive by the limp from his wounded foot that he sustains both walking and running.
Inevitably, the hilarity of their successful getaway is just a temporary bit of relief in the unstoppable evolution of this disaster. Everything continues to fall apart and the episode's mood reverts to one of sadness and anxiety, just when John is no longer fully capable physically or mentally and is at his most vulnerable emotionally. His distress and confusion culminate in his desperate, bumbling attempt to give Nan something special to make up for blinding her, imagining in his irrational and distraught state that because her nickname is Mousy, she would be pleased (much less comforted) by stolen mouse earrings that she couldn't even see, gifted to her by her attacker. Even this heartfelt but foolish gesture is a failure-an ineffectual last-minute throw that falls short, leaving the earrings on the ground and their intended recipient oblivious of his identity or intentions. John's tormented, tearful face at the end of this futile effort is heart wrenching.
This whole episode has a powerfully propulsive quality-an inevitable, ineluctable progression from light-hearted joy to inescapable tragedy. And it all happens as if in a dream, as we perceive the unspooling of disaster through John's drunken and distorted perceptions. I think this is the most creative and profound script I've ever seen on tv, and he's one of the most outstanding actors. John is hands down the most compelling character I've ever seen in any drama. He seems totally real to me and I'm hugely emotionally invested in what happens to him. There is a Shakespearean grandeur to the moral struggles and as yet unknown fate of this complex, somewhat scary, and deeply lovable man.
But then things start to slip when he's accosted on the street by the three defective cops from Milwaukee who have come looking for him. After getting Norman to punch out the "normal" one, all that earlier relaxed happiness morphs into a wild, hysterical drunken flight through the streets and subway, chased by the tiny cop who John holds off at arm's length while laughing uncontrollably. The extent to which the situation has lurched out of control becomes even more apparent in the next scene, where John, drunk and stoned, is bizarrely oblivious of the fact that he hasn't closed the door of the taxi he and his friends are escaping in--it remains wide open as they accelerate away. During the whole episode, his rambling, slightly incoherent speech, his lapses of memory, his confused, befuddled expression, and his drunken movements are perfect--a bravura performance made even more impressive by the limp from his wounded foot that he sustains both walking and running.
Inevitably, the hilarity of their successful getaway is just a temporary bit of relief in the unstoppable evolution of this disaster. Everything continues to fall apart and the episode's mood reverts to one of sadness and anxiety, just when John is no longer fully capable physically or mentally and is at his most vulnerable emotionally. His distress and confusion culminate in his desperate, bumbling attempt to give Nan something special to make up for blinding her, imagining in his irrational and distraught state that because her nickname is Mousy, she would be pleased (much less comforted) by stolen mouse earrings that she couldn't even see, gifted to her by her attacker. Even this heartfelt but foolish gesture is a failure-an ineffectual last-minute throw that falls short, leaving the earrings on the ground and their intended recipient oblivious of his identity or intentions. John's tormented, tearful face at the end of this futile effort is heart wrenching.
This whole episode has a powerfully propulsive quality-an inevitable, ineluctable progression from light-hearted joy to inescapable tragedy. And it all happens as if in a dream, as we perceive the unspooling of disaster through John's drunken and distorted perceptions. I think this is the most creative and profound script I've ever seen on tv, and he's one of the most outstanding actors. John is hands down the most compelling character I've ever seen in any drama. He seems totally real to me and I'm hugely emotionally invested in what happens to him. There is a Shakespearean grandeur to the moral struggles and as yet unknown fate of this complex, somewhat scary, and deeply lovable man.
