Manhattan 1.07
Sep. 8th, 2014 06:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
selenakIn which we get the most ensemble-tastic episode so far, and some of my wishes come through, while others don't, but in a great storytelling way.
And I don't think it's a coincidence that this is the episode with the least Frank content. Not that Frank isn't an interesting character, but he and his issues have been so dominant that it feels like a breath of fresh air to have an episode focused on everyone else, though he does get some good character stuff, just not focused on him, as in: isn't it awkward when it turns out your wife bothered to learn the language your mistress speaks and you didn't, Frank? Also he gets to be a good dad with Callie, but his face throughout the Liza and Paloma scenes was one silent fearing guilt trip, and desevedly so.
Mind you, to this show's credit, the Paloma scenes weren't about "will Frank be found out?", they finally did what I had hoped for and gave her - and several of her Navajo relations - a voice and background. And personality. And agenda. And ambiguity. At the end, we don't know whether she quit because the Winters intruded on her house, or whether she feels guilty because of Liza and quitting is the only way she sees to end with the relationship with Frank. We may or may not find out next episode. But it is her decision, not anyone else's, and she doesn't ask either Winters for permission. I also liked the nuanced way Liza was written: on the one hand, sympathetic in her learning Spanish to communicate (when most of the white people in the camp don't bother) and in her desire to help Paloma once she finds out Paloma's brother has just died, on the other, unconsciously patronizing and assuming (entering a stranger's house unasked and familiarizing herself with the furniture - would Liza have done that with someone she saw as her social equal?). She's not a saint, she's a very real character.
Also: the Navajo telling Frank and Helen politely but firmly thanks for their help but no, they can't come along to the ceremony additionally dispenses any possible white saviourness.
I started the episode being a bit irritated about Abby's continued worrying re: Charlie/Helen because it seemed such a soap opera misunderstanding, not worthy of the series, but then we got the loaded double entendre in her conversation with her new French friend from the switchboards, and I thought, hm, are we having some f/f subtext, and then, lo and behold, the subtext became just plain text. After a scare second when you think the soldier at the party will take advantage of drunken Abby, but no. Note that the show is also careful not to show Abby being taken advantage of by the French lady, either, whose name escapes me right now but stages their night ending in sex consensually - French lady kisses Abby after having put her to bed, withdraws and is about to leave when Abby pulls her back to the bed, kisses her in turn, and the camera withdraws. Abby's morning after reaction is negative, which however is probably as much about the adultery as it is about having had a same sex encounter.
(Incidentally, Callie and her soldier, otoh, err on the other hand of caution, to wit, the show goes a bit overboard to make sure Callie is taking the initiative and not getting taken advantage of. Her telling him to get shirtless or she'll scream is potentially awful blackmail. Yes, he's attracted to her, but what if he wasn't?)
Meanwhile, Charlie and Helen, bonding during the ongoing reactor crisis, actually do have a moment or two when something might happen, though nothing does except for a second in Charlie's imagination. Instead, we get some background for Helen (originally Dutch, which explains the last name of Prins) and more about Theo(dore) Sinclair, who it turns out was Charlie's competition for the award. And here's where last episode's theme of two different types of oppressions not meaning automatic alliance is furthered and deepened in a gut wrenching way. During their night of drinking and bonding, Helen tells Charlie about having had an abortion to get her current job in Los Alamos and no regrets, because the war is her chance to have that type of position as a female physicist, when in peace time, she says, a black man like Theodore would get a job like this before she does. Next morning, Theodore hands her over a letter to Frank, with the argument that if Frank Winters could get a woman physicist on his team, he could get a black physicist to Los Alamos as well. Helen accepts the letter. But in her last scene, once she and Charlie are back in Los Alamos and she enters the lab, Frank isn't there, she holds the letter and you know a second before she does it what she'll do while mentally yelling, no, Helen, don't do it. But instead of delivering the letter, she throws it away.
I found it utterly gut wrenching and yet utterly courageous and right for the show to go there. Because the earlier brainstorming between Helen, Theo and Charlie at the reactor was delightful and one side of how academics are. But jealousy, seething jealousy, and competitiveness is another side. And it's bound to double in situations where you're afraid that there is only one place for a not-white-male in that highly coveted working place. And so the emotion of "I know what it's like to be judged and excluded, I know how you feel" becomes "better you than me, this is my one chance". It's ugly, and it's real. It's also the kind of thing most shows only let villains do. But not here.
And I don't think it's a coincidence that this is the episode with the least Frank content. Not that Frank isn't an interesting character, but he and his issues have been so dominant that it feels like a breath of fresh air to have an episode focused on everyone else, though he does get some good character stuff, just not focused on him, as in: isn't it awkward when it turns out your wife bothered to learn the language your mistress speaks and you didn't, Frank? Also he gets to be a good dad with Callie, but his face throughout the Liza and Paloma scenes was one silent fearing guilt trip, and desevedly so.
Mind you, to this show's credit, the Paloma scenes weren't about "will Frank be found out?", they finally did what I had hoped for and gave her - and several of her Navajo relations - a voice and background. And personality. And agenda. And ambiguity. At the end, we don't know whether she quit because the Winters intruded on her house, or whether she feels guilty because of Liza and quitting is the only way she sees to end with the relationship with Frank. We may or may not find out next episode. But it is her decision, not anyone else's, and she doesn't ask either Winters for permission. I also liked the nuanced way Liza was written: on the one hand, sympathetic in her learning Spanish to communicate (when most of the white people in the camp don't bother) and in her desire to help Paloma once she finds out Paloma's brother has just died, on the other, unconsciously patronizing and assuming (entering a stranger's house unasked and familiarizing herself with the furniture - would Liza have done that with someone she saw as her social equal?). She's not a saint, she's a very real character.
Also: the Navajo telling Frank and Helen politely but firmly thanks for their help but no, they can't come along to the ceremony additionally dispenses any possible white saviourness.
I started the episode being a bit irritated about Abby's continued worrying re: Charlie/Helen because it seemed such a soap opera misunderstanding, not worthy of the series, but then we got the loaded double entendre in her conversation with her new French friend from the switchboards, and I thought, hm, are we having some f/f subtext, and then, lo and behold, the subtext became just plain text. After a scare second when you think the soldier at the party will take advantage of drunken Abby, but no. Note that the show is also careful not to show Abby being taken advantage of by the French lady, either, whose name escapes me right now but stages their night ending in sex consensually - French lady kisses Abby after having put her to bed, withdraws and is about to leave when Abby pulls her back to the bed, kisses her in turn, and the camera withdraws. Abby's morning after reaction is negative, which however is probably as much about the adultery as it is about having had a same sex encounter.
(Incidentally, Callie and her soldier, otoh, err on the other hand of caution, to wit, the show goes a bit overboard to make sure Callie is taking the initiative and not getting taken advantage of. Her telling him to get shirtless or she'll scream is potentially awful blackmail. Yes, he's attracted to her, but what if he wasn't?)
Meanwhile, Charlie and Helen, bonding during the ongoing reactor crisis, actually do have a moment or two when something might happen, though nothing does except for a second in Charlie's imagination. Instead, we get some background for Helen (originally Dutch, which explains the last name of Prins) and more about Theo(dore) Sinclair, who it turns out was Charlie's competition for the award. And here's where last episode's theme of two different types of oppressions not meaning automatic alliance is furthered and deepened in a gut wrenching way. During their night of drinking and bonding, Helen tells Charlie about having had an abortion to get her current job in Los Alamos and no regrets, because the war is her chance to have that type of position as a female physicist, when in peace time, she says, a black man like Theodore would get a job like this before she does. Next morning, Theodore hands her over a letter to Frank, with the argument that if Frank Winters could get a woman physicist on his team, he could get a black physicist to Los Alamos as well. Helen accepts the letter. But in her last scene, once she and Charlie are back in Los Alamos and she enters the lab, Frank isn't there, she holds the letter and you know a second before she does it what she'll do while mentally yelling, no, Helen, don't do it. But instead of delivering the letter, she throws it away.
I found it utterly gut wrenching and yet utterly courageous and right for the show to go there. Because the earlier brainstorming between Helen, Theo and Charlie at the reactor was delightful and one side of how academics are. But jealousy, seething jealousy, and competitiveness is another side. And it's bound to double in situations where you're afraid that there is only one place for a not-white-male in that highly coveted working place. And so the emotion of "I know what it's like to be judged and excluded, I know how you feel" becomes "better you than me, this is my one chance". It's ugly, and it's real. It's also the kind of thing most shows only let villains do. But not here.
