I didn’t recap last week’s episode of The Walking Dead.
In part because of the Thanksgiving holiday and a whole lotta people in my house. Mostly, though, because it felt so far removed from a TWD episode — even though they’re regularly all over the map now, literally and figuratively — that I didn’t have much to say about it. Those sandy walkers were ultra cool, but about all that “Superglib Tara in Murderous Lady Land” did for me was reveal that, at least in one village, Negan wiped out every soul who physically had a set of balls. Figuratively … well some of those ladies certainly grew a set. But I saw no reason to care. Even about you, wise Cindy. I can’t keep straight all the people currently milling about, much less a whole crop of newcomers.
Tonight’s episode swung back in the other direction tonally, offering up another dose of the kind of violence that people — the same people who’ve gleefully watched 6.5 seasons of zombie lunches, zombie kills, beheadings, heads in fish tanks, people bonfires and what have you — suddenly swear is too, too much to bear. About that growing a set …
“Sing Me A Song” delved further into the workings of Negan’s Sanctuary — and it did so because walking-death-wish Carl beat Jesus and Michonne to the finish line. Because he’s a reckless little testosterone case. By now we’ve all heard the rumors that Chandler Riggs is counting the minutes to college — no beer bongs in Alexandria, people — so if Kirkman and Co. are prepping us for his departure, it’s going pretty well. Grimes Jr. ditched Jesus with a smug wave and went rolling into Neganville, surrounded by veggies and toting a machine gun. And when the Saviors opened the back of said truck, Dirty Harry Grimey opened fire, somehow only managing to pick off two Saviors even though there was quite a crowd assembled.
Still, it was enough to impress Negan, who has always seen … something … in our little flop-haired snot-nose. Maybe teen Negan was just like teen Grimes back in the day? Maybe it’s oh so much more Negan-y to bash someone’s head in after you’ve coaxed forth their trust and admiration? Which he sets out to do, alternately allowing Carl to savor the fruits of his friendship — a beer here, a roomful of scantily-clad women there — and then menacing the crap our of the kid when he gets a little too brash.
He does that with a dose of Neganesque panache as well, employing two of the best teen-boy-freaking tactics known to mankind: Taunt their appearance and make them sing you a little song. Carl doesn’t know a song. Oh yes you do, kid. Everyone knows a damned song. Nope. Well, what did your mama sing you? OK, fine. “You are my sunshine … my only sunshine.” Let’s revisit verse two, even though he doesn’t get that far.
“I’ll always love you and make you happy/If you will only say the same/But if you leave me to love another/You’ll regret it all one day.” Hang onto that. Who’s your daddy now, Carl?
Negan also affords us our first look at Carl’s shot-out eye since the owie happened, pointing out gleefully how gross the gaping, burgundy mess remains and asking if he can touch it. Stop being vain and embrace your badge of bad-ass, Neegs advises. Yeah, but will Enid want to touch it, is the thing.
Speaking of gross — and being someone’s only sunshine — time for a little demonstration of how the rules work around here. Apparently, you can gun down two minions and earn yourself a tour and a beer for your efforts, but if you try to reclaim your lady friend from Negan’s Hall of Many Wives — well, just ask Dwight about that. And now, some more strappin’ lad named Dave, who canoodled with his lady friend Amber and got the left side of his face ironed into a goopy mess in front of his peer group for his efforts, peeing his pants and passing out cold in the process. Daryl — whom you can pretty much smell through the television at this point — gets to mop up the mess.
So, Carl, this is Negan’s place. Let’s go back to your house. And what have the Alexandrians been up to during Carl’s little field trip? Well.
Michonne, pissed off about that whole burnt-up mattress thing, figures out a way to zombie-roadblock a lady Savior and battle her into a free ride to Negan. Guess who’s not home, Michonne? Speaking of that, the answer is also you, Rick and Carl, so WHO THE SAM-HELL HAS JUDITH??
Rick and Aaron are Out There Somewhere, on a sleepover trip for supplies that leads them Mysterious Area with Quippy Signs.
And grieving Rosita is still angry at Spencer, who must have thought the better off his riding off into the sunset, at least for the moment, and has magically reappeared. (Bonus points to Nicotero for the portly hunter walker that Spence literally brings down for his crossbow and secret pocket message). Rosita also hauls Eugene back to Bullet Making Plant of Bad, Bad Memories to get down to business. She wants a single bullet … one bullet … which mystifies me. And even though she bullies her poor former comrade, he obliges her.
And when Negan and Carl arrive back at the homestead, there’s no one but Olivia — who shuts Negan down like a boss, but still makes his lemonade just right — to greet them. No matter. He’ll just cuddle up with little Judith on the front porch, pass a glass to Carl and wait for their daddy’s return.
So. There. All that happened. I’ll go with Carl may decide Negan’s a badder badass than dad and, therefore, make this life much more interesting as my takeaway and call ’er good. Also, I want Carol back. Soon. And Maggie. I know them. I love them. I care about their particular will to survive.
Next week marks the Season 7 midseason finale, and with ratings dipping to mere-mortal numbers, critics and fans alike wonder if the show has finally jumped the shark. Or, I guess, tiger. Assuming we ever see the thing again, given how much it and its keeper were touted at the start of the season only to disappear into the nether. To me, this the heart of the problem. There’s no heart of the show. TWD was best when we had characters we really, truly loved (You, Carol and Maggie. You, Glenn and Hershel). Or really, truly loved to hate (You, Shane and Merle). Or both. When the zombies were scary because they represented an unimaginable death, knocking at the door in more ways than one. When we were fighting as a unit, even when we got all upset with one another.
Now we’re left a heaping pile of minor characters suddenly thrust into the forefront with no real backstory to make them matter. And former warriors gone ridiculously soft by a few weeks in well-appointed homes. And worst, new characters fired at us fast enough to require a whiteboard and the memory of a savant. Love ya, Negan — and I do — but next week is the end for many weeks and all we really know about you is that you have a tasty temper, great teeth and a wit as sharp as Lucille’s barbed wire. You’re not exactly 3D.
Where that was once no question, it seems nigh to impossible that Kirkman and Co. can stitch together the crazy quilt into which they’ve turned their once-invisible zombie show in a way that leaves us anxiously ruminating all the way up to the new episodes’ premiere. If anyone can do it, it’s this group. I hope they do. I miss dropping everything for my zombie show and going to bed after gobsmacked and unnerved. But with so many cooks in the kitchen, so damned many kitchens and nothing particularly tasty coming from any of them, it seems like an order too tall to fill.
The Walking Dead midseason finale premieres Sunday, Dec. 11 at 9/8c on AMC.
