The end is here, Preacher fans! With the Preacher season finale, “Call and Response,” season one is all but dust in the wind, and though I know the wait for Season 2 will be long and grueling, we have much for which to give thanks. Cassidy is still with us, and he’s healing up nicely. Saving Eugene from Hell is not an impossibility. Jesse seems to be getting a handle on Genesis. Tulip found Carlos, so she can stop obsessing. Emily won’t have to make out with Miles ever again. All the wild guinea pigs and hamsters have been set free to live out their days, unfettered and utterly confused, in Walter’s back yard.
And God is coming! As the episode opens, Willie Nelson sings Time Of The Preacher (again), Annville looks inviting (to the extent that it can), and the clock ticks down toward ETA. I can’t wait to see what happens. If God is a no-show, I’m pretty certain we can count on an appearance from The Cowboy, and if they show up at the same time, even better.
Jesse is still running from the law … literally. He shouts a friendly “Hey,” to Mabel as he blows past her on the street, squads with sirens blaring right behind him. She does her civic duty and points him out to the squads in pursuit. Heh!
Tulip has returned and finds Madame Mosie at Lena’s Hair and Beauty. It’s so busy, ladies are lined up down the block. Tulip’s not totally privy to Annville’s big event, so Mosie reaffirms. Yeah, right. God. Where’s Jesse? Did that “red-neck son-of-a-bitch” Root get him? Mosie says it’s worse – even red-neckier and “son-of-a-bitchier” – Donnie.
Next scene … Donnie beats the living daylights out of Betsy’s arse. Go figure. Afterward, he lovingly hands her a bag of frozen produce for her bum, and sits down to read the paper. Tulip, hot after Jesse, shatters the front door with a pink flamingo yard ornament. Classic. I’ve always wanted one, but I’m not brave enough. Now I’m glad – I have the same front door. She’s got her gun drawn, but it’s not necessary. Neither was breaking the door. It was unlocked. Jesse’s there of his own accord. Donnie is actually hiding him. More on that later, but there’s nothing worse than wasting a bunch of energy on a dramatic entrance when it’s completely unwarranted. For as many times as she’s done this, I’d think she’d have that figured out by now. So embarrassing!
Cassidy and Larry the Indian are in jail. Sheriff Root opens the cell. Larry is free. Pedro the Prairie Dog dropped the charges. Now Root is alone with Cassidy. Where’s Eugene? Cassidy says it’s better he doesn’t know, but Root is determined. In fact, he’s so determined, he’s prepared himself by looking up Cassidy’s rap sheet, which dates back to the 1920s. Cassidy’s a little uncomfortable, but thanks Root for noticing his youthful appearance. Well, Root has also noticed the sunglasses and the outrageous hats. Root knows! Shite! Cassidy goes for Root, but Root shoots.
He’s got a thermos full of blood and a box full of bullets. Via the magical interwebs, he researched how to properly interrogate a vampire, and he’s going to get something out of Cassidy if it takes fifteen hours, or whatever we have left before God shows up.
Back at the Schenck (still trying to figure out how that’s pronounced ‘Skank’) residence, Donnie explains to Tulip how Jesse inadvertently showed him the light. Tulip, as always, is snarky and skeptical. Betsy tells her to “lose the attitude.” This is priceless stuff. Tulip can’t take it, so she and Jesse step out for a smoke. Outside, Tulip pulls the sexy, and while Jesse thinks it’s going somewhere good, it ain’t. She leans over the trunk and opens it. Inside is Carlos. He looks terrible.
Now we get more backstory. That whole job gone wrong with Carlos leaving Jesse and Tulip in the dust did a lot more damage than I thought.
A few episodes back, Tulip mentioned something about having a kid. Well, she was pregnant, but apparently lost it due to the stress that goes along with being a criminal. She blames this on Carlos. Not only did he leave them behind, he set it up that they’d be busted. Why? Because he was annoyed by their happiness. Anyone who leaves their fellows in crime because he or she is jealous is … well, probably not uncommon, and criminals are criminals, so they can’t be trusted anyway. Therefore, I cry foul on Tulip. Let it go, already.
Lesson – if you are a criminal, you should expect bad things to happen, and when they do, you can choose a lifetime of retaliation or stop being a criminal. That is all.
Tulip wants Carlos dead. She insists Jesse be the one to do it. Jesse doesn’t want to do it. A dead Carlos won’t change anything. A dead Carlos won’t bring the baby back.
Last week I mentioned Odin’s employee who sits around watching a needle for hours and how any job in Hell would be preferable. This week, he’s on the phone with his wife. He’d like to come home to some “friskiness.” While he’s yapping, all kinds of gooey cow refuse slides down a chute and plops into a sh-t pond, of sorts. It’s quite gross. What part of his job could possibly induce “stirrings”? Anyway, his horniness has him distracted, so the grossness just keeps building up and the needle goes ignored. The poo-stew is beginning to boil.
In jail, Cassidy drinks blood and yanks bullets out of his belly. He and Root share a smoke. Again, Root asks about Eugene. Cassidy tells him pretty much the same thing he’s been telling him the whole time. What happened to Eugene was a mistake. Nobody’s perfect. Not even Root. Cassidy questions if Root really wants Eugene back … to have to look at that “arseface” across the table and deal with the constant questions. This strikes a chord in the sheriff. He empties his gun into Cassidy, opens the cell, and leaves the room.
At the Schenck’s, Tulip and Jesse continue bickering over what to do with Carlos. Jesse says it’s not in their right to take his life. Tulip says it damn sure is. He says they’ll go to Hell. She says he’s a moron with all of his God mumbo jumbo. No “beardy white guy” has the right to say what goes in her world. In her world, it’s “an eye for an eye.” Carlos has to pay. Jesse finally caves, grabs a garbage bag and an over mitt, and walks out to Tulip’s car. He’s “goin’ to Hell anyway.”
Outside, he dons his mitt silencer and spreads the trash bag to keep gray matter out of Tulip’s trunk. Tulip has second thoughts. What Jesse said sinks in. She tells him to stop. He insists he proceed. She doesn’t want it now, but she’s happy he was going to do it. “It’s the thought that counts!” She’s not keen on the mess Carlos’s demise would make of her car, so they settle for arming him with a gun and a tire iron (just to be fair) before kicking the sh-t out of him. They really tear him up, too.
At the church, Betsy’s on fire. She’s telling the deputies on stakeout that Preacher and Tulip are at her house. They’re animals and Jesse put a spell on her Donnie! They need to get going and nab that “Sombitch” Preacher! It’s a grand performance. The cops speed off, and Tulip, Jessie and Donnie climb out of the trunk. God’s coming! They’ve gotta prepare!
The church is a disaster, so they get right to work. Jesse pulls out the God phone and the angel hand, but is completely perplexed about how to make it work. Betsy notices, so she offers to help. She’s pretty good. I’d have no idea what to do with that archaic thing, but maybe that’s because it’s too high tech. It has video conferencing! They’re going to see Him, too!
The All Saints sign reads “TODAY: MEET GOD – TOMORROW: TBD,” and the lot is completely full. It’s going down!
Tulip and Jesse ponder what will happen. Neither knows, but Tulip is sure of one thing. They’ll be “gettin’ French fries after.”
The church is packed. Cassidy makes his way through the crowd. He looks perfect! I’m so happy he got over his bad case of frizzle-fry. He’s so bloody adorable. Tulip is happy to see him, too. Everyone is there, and I mean everyone – except poor Eugene, of course. Oh, and Miles. He’s meeting God somewhere else.
Jesse tries to open his sermon with the usual “Peace be with you,” but Odin Quincannon steps in front of him and interrupts. Jesse’s full of it, just like every other preacher that’s ever preached. “The only real God is the God of meat!” He says this with staunch conviction and some serious Billy Idol fists. No one knows what the hell he’s talking about. He didn’t expect so many looks of confusion, so he stops “preamble-izing” and lets Jesse continue. “Show us God!”
Jesse sets up the God phone just like Betsy showed him. When he places the angel hand where it belongs, things start to happen. Lights go on, and it makes a noise like “dial up” used to make. There are buzzes and whirs. Someone shouts, “Just shoot its dick off!” For crying out loud, people! It’s not like Jesse’s making a call to Canada! It’s Heaven. Be patient.
Just as Odin is certain it’s failed and gets up to blab some more, the church goes dark. As I said before, it’s happening! The congregation freaks out.
A second later, the church is filled with light … and wind. Projected on the altar is God – the Alpha and the Omega. Take that, Odin. He queries why His “children” have called Him. Jesse steps up. He says they have questions.
God responds in a pretty ungodly way. “How dare you question your God?” He’s not very nice. Tulip, always feisty, says if anyone has a right to be pissed, it’s them. He even made a baby cry. Jesse intervenes.
He tells God to pay attention to His sin-filled children and pencil them into his busy schedule. There is too much suffering. God needs to answer for it. Since they have Him on video conference, the least He could do is act like a father and talk to those He created. God cracks up and tells Jesse he’s got “balls.” Incredibly weird and unexpected, but why not? God’s interest is piqued, so He’s now open for questioning.
A young girl stands up and asks why bad things happen to good people. She is met with a very generic answer – He wanted all of them to have everything – joy, love, blah, but also pain – all the stuff that makes a person a person. But, why? When she asks this, the church explodes. There are a lot of people who want questions answered, like what happened to the dinosaurs? I’m laughing my arse off, but it’s not all that funny. People aren’t asking the right questions. To be honest, if I did believe in God, I don’t think I could ask him a question that would be right. And scrambling over a pile of others to ask it would be completely wrong.
In the melee, Odin gets up and asks God about his family. Where is his daughter? God says she’s with Him in Heaven. Odin looks relieved and confused, but the answer plants him back in the pew. God then asks Jesse what his question is. Jesse says he has many, but the first is about God’s plan for him. We knew it would be. He’s been asking that question since the start. This is where things get weird. OK, they’ve always been weird, but they get weirder.
God tells Jesse he brought his flock to God, so they are saved. Plan fulfilled. Everyone is saved! Even Eugene! Now that’s too damn easy, and Jesse knows it. The crowd rejoices, but Jesse’s not having it. He shouts out that he sent Eugene to Hell.
The church becomes quiet, and God asks Jesse how he did that. Jesse says he did it with Genesis. Now God is rattled. Genesis? What’s that? Avoid. Who else has a question? Well, Clive wants to know whether or not he can get his dick back on. The whole church erupts with laughter, but Clive ain’t laughing. Neither is Jesse. Jesse has one last question. “You’re not God, are you?” God insists He is still the Alpha and the Omega and blah, blah, blah, but Jesse saw Him picking His nose.
OK, so what? Why wouldn’t God’s nose make boogers? Ours do, and for those who believe in Him, He made us in His image! Nose = boogers! But Jesse’s right, and with the power of Genesis, he gets the truth. This poor angel, or whoever/whatever he is, has been made to pose as God because God is, well, missing. Appears he’s ditched Heaven, or been Godnapped, or worse.
The heavies in Heaven intervene. “God” is intercepted by two individuals with whom he tries to plead his case. Jesse made him admit everything. A hand covers the video chat screen, and it’s done. God is missing. This will lead to a horrible chain of events.
Jesse, with no recourse, stands in front of his destroyed congregation and says, “Let’s go.” Odin insists Jesse denounce Him, but Jesse keeps on walking. Denounce who? God exists. He’s just not in Heaven where he belongs. Tulip wants French fries. And everything has changed.
As the church turns into mayhem, Emily smiles and begins to play 96 Tears on the organ. It’s beautiful.
Afterward, she tries to tell her children that nothing has changed. She’s lying, and she knows it, but parents lie to their kids all the time. She says that their daddy is in the good part of Heaven, and really, they can live life just fine without God. Nothing has changed! They all look at her with their little mouths hanging open, but seriously, sh-t happens, God or not. Time to get real, kiddos.
And now for the unfortunate series of events accompanied by No Rain. It’s not Blind Melon’s version, which is much happier, but it’s incredibly perfect. Larry the Indian, takes a last drag from a grit and hangs himself. Giggling little girls with bloody stakes exit the school bus. Inside, Linus’s dead carcass drips blood onto the floor. Mrs. Loach puts a pillow over Tracy’s face while little brother records the moment on Snap Chat. Tom Cruise’s ashes are launched into space … ugh. Donnie isn’t into his wife, even if she’s wearing ruby red slippers. Odin has made a new daughter out of hamburger. Oh, man. And the poo brew stew is seriously in the red, but the guy with the sh-tty job is dead from a heart attack or something, so the mistress he hired to make his shift go by faster (since his wife shot down “frisky”) is trying desperately to figure out how to fix it. She doesn’t know what button to push. “Uh-oh.”
Methane pours from every one of those little valvie things about town. Annville is seconds away from a poopocalypse. I have some tears in my eyes. I get more when I see that Pedro has hung himself next to Larry. Oh, no mascots! The horror! A spark seals the deal, and Annville is gone from the map.
But it ain’t done. Fiore comes back from Hell. He’s dirty and teary … and alone. Dammit! Where is DeBlanc? I’m not okay with this. Granted, his trunk of comics is still there, Fiore’s alone! For real? No more DeBlanc? Come on!
At the diner, Jesse and crew are having their fries. But are they really? I don’t know, but they are going on a road trip to find God. I mean, He has to be found, right? They don’t know they’ve been blown up, so I wonder how this will affect their road trip. Guess we’ll find out in Season Two.
They hop in Tulip’s car. Cassidy lights up a “cigarette,” and they discuss their mission. They’re going to locate God, who will naturally want to be returned to Heaven, and if for some reason He doesn’t, He will endure a Holy ass-kicking. I cannot wait to see how this pans out. Tulip says, “Alright bitches, let’s go!” They hit the road.
Back in the mess that was Annville, the seraph walks amongst the rubble of All Saints Church. She doesn’t get far before a hole is blown through her chest. The Cowboy has arrived.
Well how’s that for a finale? I’ve got questions, and you have a whole year to answer them! Sound off in the comments! And follow me on Twitter @KimberlyThies1. I tweet during episodes.
- If they’re busy looking for God, who is going to save Eugene?
- Where is DeBlanc? Please tell me he’s just on a different Distant Vistas
- How will our trio take the news when they find out they’ve been blown up?
- If you were God, where would you go besides Heaven?
- What is going on? Are they in Heaven? Are they in Hell? Are they in limbo? What???