Just as she thinks she has the moral high ground, it’s impossible to let her have it. She’ll let them die, but won’t do it at her hand. This seems like a matter of semantics, because abandoning any of the people in her settlement to the wild would lead to their death. He’s outraged that she knew, but it shows that, as a leader, Deanna has had to make moral compromises as well, but refuses to execute anyone. Deanna tells Rick that she knows all about it and was hoping it would get better. Things come to a head between Deanna and Rick over Pete, who is beating his wife Jessie – who Rick is developing feelings for and whose son has been telling Carol what goes on in their home. This seems to be the only healthy sentiment, one of acceptance and togetherness. When Rick talks to Glenn after he returns from the disastrous run, Glenn tells him that there is no more us and and them, that they are all united. Maybe what it’s really rooting against is the division. The show makes it impossible to root for either of them. The odd thing is, they’re both right and they’re both wrong. That’s the conflict here: an old way of thinking as exemplified by the privileged and weak residents of Alexandria, and a new way of thinking adapted by the downtrodden and strong members of the Ricktatorship. Rick and his crew would find this deplorable, but isn’t it humanizing? Aren’t they right to feel their sadness, no matter what sort of man Aiden was? They are people that don’t know they’re mourning a coward and are so unaccustomed to the rampant slaughter of the world that they have the luxury of still taking time to mourn. It shows their obliviousness to the world they live in, as does how gutted the family is by Aiden’s loss. That such a thing even exists points out the problems with Aiden’s character and the pseudo-modernity the people of Alexandria are living in. Deanna puts her dead son Aiden’s “Run Mix” CD in the stereo and the grieving family listens to the music that he would blast from the car when going out to shoot zombies. Take the first scene of Sunday night’s episode. The scenarios, for both the characters and the audience at home, seem to beg the question of how we can impose the morality of our world on this new post-zombie world order. That is not true of this season of The Walking Dead, a show whose most unmooring aspect is that it no longer telegraphs to the audience exactly how it should feel about the life-and-death decisions its characters make. Sure, shows like The Sopranos and Breaking Bad are complicated, but the writers always portray the heinous acts their main characters commit as atrocious, no matter how appealing Tony Soprano and Walter White might be. Ambiguity is something that television isn’t really comfortable with.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |