The Walking Dead recap: The Neighbors
Hershel was bleeding out through his leg-stump. A walker was beating down the door. And there was a sweaty dude wearing a wifebeater and a mullet and a mustache — looking for all the world like a corrupt cop in a ’70s porno — screaming “Who the hell are you?!” This is how Rick Grimes and the Melee Squad was introduced to the last living tenants of the West Georgia Correctional Facility — the first un-undead survivors we’ve seen since the arrival of the Michael-Raymond James Gang midway through season 2. The Man with the Mullet was flanked by four other men: A gentle giant named Big Tiny, a measly man named Axel whose blonde facial hair made him look like the hobo grandson of Colonel Sanders, and two other guys who looked like they’re currently tied in the “Who Dies First?” competition.
It was a high-stress situation. But Rick focused on Hershel. He hoisted the three-limbed old fella up onto a makeshift gurney and pushed him back to the cleared-out cellblock, where he had to explain to the Women and Children that Hershel’s new nickname was Ol’ Stumpy. The prisoners followed them home, staring straight into Daryl’s crossbow the whole way. They explained how they had managed to live so long: Locked inside the cafeteria for ten months, with all the miserable prison food they could handle, and a tiny room in back that stank of a year without plumbing. They had only a vague notion of what afflicted the walkers in the hallways; they didn’t know anything about the outside world. Rick gave it to them straight: “There is no army, no government, no hospitals, no police.” They asked if they could borrow a cell phone to call their parents. “There are no cell phones,” said Rick. They asked if they could borrow an iPad, so they could check in to “The Prison” on Foursquare. Rick refused, because he was just two check-ins away from being named Mayor and getting a two-for-one deal on leg-stumps.
The Man with the Mullet — henceforth Tomas — finally got the message. He was the de facto leader of the prisoners, which also meant, in his mind, that he owned the prison. He was kind enough to offer the Grimes Gang a spot of land in the field outside. Rick offered a counter-argument: “We took out these walkers. The prison is ours. We spilled blood.” Before things turned violent, the two gangs came to a compromise. The Prisoners would grant half their food to Grimes & Co; in return, Rick would take the Melee Squad through a neighboring cellblock and help the prisoners clear out their own home. “You pay, we play,” said Rick. In the abstract ungoverned world of the post-apocalypse, this amounted to a social compact. Rick has turned his ragtag team of survivors into a specialist strike force. They have no material wealth — no food — but they have a very specific set of skills. In a funny way, Rick was making a mafia deal with Tomas: Offering him “protection,” with a price.
Inside the cellblock, the Women and Children were gathered to help Hershel through his sudden-onset bout of Stumpitis. “Boy, I sure am glad that Hershel has been teaching you some of his doctorin’ stuff!” said Lori to Carol. Hershel’s children reacted to his newfound Stumpitude in different ways. Maggie figured that the old guy was as useless as a pretty horse with a broken leg. “He can’t even walk,” she said, “And all we do is run.” Beth gamely started cutting the bottom off his pant-legs. Rick was unsentimental: He handcuffed Hershel to the bed and left Glenn behind, in case Zombie-Hershel required a mercy kill. “Do you mind? I know he’s your girlfriend’s dad!” said Rick. Glenn: “He’s my girlfriend’s dad! Of course I don’t mind!”
NEXT: Lori knows that she’s awful, but she won’t let that stop her from being awfulLast season, the Grimes Gang was a fractious group. Shane was militant; Hershel was a benevolent despot, selfishly hoarding his land; heck, Carol was even whispering treachery in Daryl’s ear. But those long winter months have brought a sense of order to their little society. Any new arrival would threaten that order. The fact that Tomas and his gang were already criminals pre-zombie only made trusting them more difficult. Lori took Rick aside and tried to give him some advice. “I know that I’m a s—y wife, and I’m not winning any mother of the year awards,” she said. But she knew that, deep in his heart, Rick was not a violent man; he was only doing what was necessary. “Do whatever you gotta do to keep this group safe,” she said.
Rick took Daryl and T-Dogg with him into the neighboring cellblock. It makes sense: They’re clearly the most valuable members of the Melee Squad. (ASIDE: If this were a fantasy videogame, Daryl would clearly be the elf archer, T-Dogg would clearly be the barbarian with a high defense rating but poor long-range attacks, Maggie would be the stealth assassin, Glenn would be the mage who casts the healing spell, and Rick would be the dude with blonde bangs and a gunblade. END OF ASIDE.) Together, they gave the prisoners a mini-boot camp. Never fire a gun if you don’t have to. Strike at the head. Don’t break formation. A zombie appeared…and the prisoners struck with all the delicacy of a horde of fifth-graders attacking a baseball mascot. They screamed, they punched, and at one point, Axel hilariously kept stabbing one walker in the chest.
It was a funny moment, which also served to bring home just how completely the series has reconfigured our understanding of the main characters in this new season. When Rick and Co strike, they are silent and orderly; they move as a single organism, a perfectly-constructed killing machine. And they do not hesitate. By comparison, Big Tiny — the largest prisoner, the guy who you would naturally assume would be a violent decapitatin’ badass — looked terrified when he saw his pals hack away at the walkers.
He backed away…and ran right into a pair of zombies. One of these zombies was handcuffed, and — for no reason except to allow us in the audience to bathe in a little bit more blood — we saw him pull the f—ing handcuff through his left wrist. He bit Big Tiny on the back. Big Tiny insisted that he was fine. Rick apologized to the other prisoners, and was preparing for an awkward moment. Then Tomas walked up and bashed Big Tiny’s brains in.
This was a great moment for lots of reasons: Because it was surprising, because it established that Tomas was a sociopath who didn’t think anything about killing the man he’d lived with for ten months, but also because it immediately established that Tomas is the kind of guy who fits perfectly into the zombie apocalypse. He shared a Rick with look. In light of what came afterwards, you could call that look the beginning of their face-off. I think it went a bit deeper, though. I think Rick recognized a bit of himself in Tomas. And the last time Rick met somebody like himself, his name was Shane and it didn’t end well.
Back in the cellblock, the Woman and Children were all reacting to Hershel’s coma in their own way. Maggie spoke to her unconscious father and told him he didn’t have to fight anymore. Carl reappeared with medical supplies and said he found an infirmary. “No big deal,” he said, “I just killed two walkers.” Lori told him he couldn’t just run off like that. Carl told his mom to stuff it. “Carl!” said Beth, “Don’t talk to your mother that way!” Carl ran off, squealing, “Moommmm, you’re embarrassing me!”
Meanwhile, Carol asked Glenn to kill a lady walker outside. It was for practice: If Hershel died, she would need to deliver Lori’s baby. “I need to learn how to cut through the abdomen and the uterus without cutting through the baby,” said Carol, in the process leading men across America to cover their ears and squeal, “Too much information! Too much information!” Now, I feel the need to point out that Carol’s “practice” was probably not well-timed; like, couldn’t this wait until after Hershel stops bleeding out through his leg-stump? But I have to admire just how completely the writers have set about rebooting Carol. She used to be the show’s most obvious hanger-on. Her two character traits were worrying about her lost daughter, and then mourning for her dead daughter. In the first two episodes of this season, she’s been re-established as a sniper ace and a combat doctor. I’m not sure she really has a personality yet, but at least she has a function.
NEXT: Rick ruins Tomas’ mullet{C}
I believe that a good Walking Dead fan is also a skeptical Walking Dead fan. The original comic book series is a grand exercise in long-form pulp narrative, which is a nice way of saying it has some incredible peaks followed by long and windy valleys. (Whole years of the Dead comic have been spent building tension and farming.) Likewise, part of what makes the TV show fun is that, in its relatively brief 21-episode existence, it has explored a whole assortment of moods and styles — sometimes successfully, sometimes ruinously. The great series premiere was like an old-fashioned western shot by a decomposing John Ford. The visit to the CDC felt like one of those Twilight Zone episodes with a great sci-fi set-up and zero follow-through. Season 2 took an unfortunate detour into Off-Broadway Morality Play. Last week’s premiere was basically a war movie: Commander Grimes, leading his ragtag squad through enemy territory.
As somebody who loves television, Dead‘s manic evolution has been half the fun of watching it. But it also means that every new development is cause for concern. In this sense, my reaction to Tomas and his gang was similar to Rick’s. On one hand, I knew they could bring positive things to the table: New interpersonal drama, new intriguing character traits, new facial hair. On the other hand, I knew their influence could be negative: New ham-handed drama, more boring uni-dimensional personalities, bad mustaches. I figured that we were staring down a long season of tension between Rick and Tomas. I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.
The Melee Squad and the Prison Gang reached a set of double-door with walkers on the other side. Rick told Tomas to open just one door — thereby constricting how many walkers could get through. (Same trick that Leonidas used at Thermopylae.) But Tomas opened both doors and let the killing fields fly. “S— happens!” he yelled. He took a wide swing at one walker, clearly intended to hit Rick. When that failed, he threw another walker on top of Rick. Daryl swung into action, totally ending the Walker and earning yet another Zombie Kill of Week Award to put up on his mantel next to his stuffed owl.
Rick stared Tomas down. Tomas stared Rick down. Rick said he understood: “S— happens.” And then he totally cut Tomas’ brain in half, possibly eradicating the last living mullet in America. In the process, Rick earned himself the Human Kill of the Week Award — a prize which Rick completely nailed down this week, since he then gave chase to Andrew and wound up locking him in a yard filled with zombies.
This was a good, tough storytelling choice. It confirmed that Rick as a person and The Walking Dead as a TV show have both become far less sentimental. We’re a long way from hosting re-enactments of Twelve Angry Men every time there’s a big moral decision. You could argue that Rick was wholly justified in killing Tomas, but the death of Andrew was an outright pre-emptive strike: Rick knew that he couldn’t trust him, and he didn’t have the energy to deal with the potential consequences.
The death of Tomas made up for a storytelling decision which strikes me as a bit more sentimental: The decision to keep Hershel alive. The old man actually stopped breathing at one point. Lori gave him CPR. When she went in for mouth-to-mouth, Hershel’s arm flared up and grabbed her. Now, fellow viewers, I didn’t literally scream “Yes! Yes! Kill Her!” at my TV screen, but let’s just say that I would not be averse to a Lori-free Dead. But Hershel just foolin’ around. Ol’ Stumpy, you’re such a kidder!
NEXT: The case for LoriThere were two prisoners left alive. Axel pleaded for their lives. They weren’t violent criminals, he insisted: “I like my pharmaceuticals. He’s a B&E guy, and he’s not very good at it!” Oscar was stalwart: “I ain’t never pleaded for my life, and I ain’t about to start now.” Rick allowed them to stay in the cellblock, but he left them to clear out the walkers…and he made it clear that they probably shouldn’t expect too much buddy-buddy interaction with the Grimes gang. Axel seemed a bit unglued by the sight of so many dead: “I knew these guys! They were good men.” Oscar stayed quiet, intriguingly inscrutable. (IMDB check: Axel is played by Lew Temple, recently seen in Unstoppable and Lawless. Oscar is played by Vincent M. Ward, a professional background man whose filmography includes lots of roles with names like “Bodyguard,” “Guard #1,” “Police Officer,” “Parking Officer,” and — my personal favorite — “Uzi-Carrying Guard #2” in Ocean’s 11.)
It’ll be interesting to see how the pair of prisoners will live alongside of Rick. If you’ll allow me a Momentary Comic Book Nerd Moment, the original Walking Dead featured a similar group of surviving convicts, but only half of those characters seem to have made the transition — and of them, only Axel really seems anything like his comic-book self. Last week, showrunner Glen Mazzara told EW’s Dalton Ross strongly implied that the pivotal character named “Dexter” in the comic book series had his name changed in his translation to the screen. The question is: Did “Dexter” grow a mullet and become Tomas? Or did he just get a bit quieter and become Oscar?
Rick and the Melee Squad returned to the cellblock. Hershel woke up and smiled, and shook Rick’s hand. Truthfully, any day when the Greenes successfully don’t lose a member of their family is a good day. Everyone in the medical cell smiled. But outside, Rick and Lori had a much more serious conversation. Rick assured Lori that he didn’t think she was a bad mother. He didn’t say anything about her wife skills. Lori laughed. “What are we gonna do? Hire lawyers? Get a divorce?” You could tell that, in her own way, she was trying to re-open lines of communication: Come on, Rick, why complain about our relationship when the world is over? But Rick just couldn’t do it. “We’re awful grateful for what you did,” he said, referring to the rescue of Hershel…and then he left her all along, overlooking the lonely prison that was now their home.
Listen, I’ve complained about Lori as much as the next person. And there is a sense that — in this new season, with more blood and more action and more Mazzara — she is the last remnant of the show’s awkward phase, her mere presence leading everyone around her into morose introspection. But I also think that Lori represents something even more important for The Walking Dead: The possibility that the show can wrestle with serious human implications beyond the binary action-movie urge to live and not die. Lori represents the urge towards civilized society; she’s the last person left, after Dale, who is even really pondering moral questions; she is literally pregnant with possibility. To get really meta for a second, Rick is treating her the same way that the writers of The Walking Dead are treating “themes” — which is to say, avoiding them entirely and generally doing their best to pretend that they were never really interested in the first place. Can Lori find a place for herself in the new Dead ecosystem? Or is she doomed to sit on the sidelines — asking the big questions about family and society and the future of the human race that the show is no longer interested in asking?
Fellow viewers, that was a dynamite second episode of the season. The prison has been officially colonized. The undead people aren’t walking anymore; the potentially villainous living people are dead. What did you think of the evening’s events? Are you happy that Hershel survived, leaving open the possibility that he’ll be walking around on crutches made of chainsaws? Intrigued by that quick shot from outside the prison that seemed to imply that an unseen observer was watching Carol practicing her C-Section? And be sure to check out our latest batch of Dead coverage: Dead guru Robert Kirkman has the inside scoop on the episode; Showrunner Glen Mazzara has a personal connection to the Maggie/Hershel “farewell” scene; and Michael Rooker wants you to know that everything you think you know about Merle is wrong…dead wrong.
Follow Darren on Twitter: @DarrenFranich