TV Review: The Bridge 1.9, "The Beetle"
rating: 4
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Because of episodes like "The Beetle" I've found The Bridge to sometimes be a difficult show to critique. This episode was one the direction of which I feel somewhat detracts from one of the series' strongest aspects, the dynamic sociopolitical atmosphere comprised of the juxtaposition of the economic and cultural disparity between the U.S. and Mexico, and their close physical proximity. However, that being said, even when an episode detours from this motif to explore a more specific element, in this case the recently revealed identity of The Bridge Butcher, David Tate, it does so with such deft momentum and balance among other plots that I can hardly hold it against the series, especially with so much of the season left to unfold. "The Beetle" may have diverged from the grander scope of the show to take a closer look at its specific plot, but what may have been lost thematically from this more narrow perspective is compensated for in further characterization of its key players. This episode picks up immediately from the cliffhanger of the previous episode's reveal that Tate is the Butcher and has Alma and her daughters in his custody. But before returning to this urgent development the episode opens by depicting Tate's discovery of his wife and son's corpses at the site of their lethal car accident all those years ago. This episode's director, Keith Gordon, deserves much praise and recognition for his choices in portraying the opening shot of Tate approaching this sight. By placing the audience's viewpoint essentially on Tate's shoulder and making it seem as though the man was practically floating toward the accident, or being propelled by a moving walkway like those found at airports, Gordon very effectively put viewers in Tate's shoes which allowed actor Eric Lange's performance to really hit home. In particular, I loved the screams Tate unleashes at the sight of his young son's bloodied arm dangling from the mangled automobile. Those screams were anything but the typical idea of the deep, guttural, masculine yell of a burly warrior or athlete, and it was absolutely perfect for the situation. Tate wasn't trying to show off or claim dominance, he was mourning the loss of his family in the most visceral and deeply bare manner possible, completely devoid of any regard for himself or others. I couldn't imagine a more appropriate or effective method of conveying Tate's profound sense of shock and loss; it reminded me very much of Michael C. Hall's performance in the fifth season premiere of Dexter when the character finally allows himself to feel his grief for his recently murdered wife after absolutely pulverizing a dude's head with a grappling hook (click for the clip!) in one of that series' tragically few moments where Hall was able to truly exhibit his talent as an actor. That opening sequence, including the slow motion shots of Jill Tate's bloody body and beaded necklace, did much to inform the trauma that catalyzed David Tate into The Bridge Butcher as well as his methodology, however, despite the obvious skill with which the sequence was comprised and shown, it spoke more to Tate's desire for vengeance against Marco, the man with whom Tate's wife was having an affair and for whom she was going to leave Tate, than it did Tate's desire to expose the corruption of Juarez. While the high quality of this series so far is enough for viewers to have faith that Tate's political motivations will be developed as much as his personal ones were in "The Beetle," it remains the one minor objection I can charge against the episode. But one small complaint among so many excellent touches in Tate's characterization, including Lange's ability to switch from loving and affecionate new lover to cold and calculating embodiment of vengeance (plus that poor, innocent picnic beetle!), shouldn't diminish the episode's excellence as long as the rest of the season isn't reduced to a mere game of cat and mouse between Tate and Marco. While "The Beetle's" primary plot followed the grenade situation which, though sufficiently tense, ultimately was resolved perhaps a bit too neatly for my taste (not that I'm a fan of innocent characters, especially children, dying horrific and violent deaths, how intense would it be if Tate succeeded in stealing Marco's family away?), the secondary plots belonging to Charlotte Millwright and Steven Linder saw new developments without the same sense of completion that the relative safety of Marco's wife and daughters provided. Steven's plot was a bit underwhelming though I love the character so much that I don't really care. Basically we just followed Steven to that Christian ranch he drops the girls he rescues off at so he can confess to Eva that he killed her lover/dealer/pimp, Hector. That's all there really was though I did enjoy Steven's interactions with Bob, the ranch's proprietor, as he is as similarly ambiguous as Steven was during the first half of the season. Perhaps ironically, it's Bob's faith, a quality Steven does not share, which casts him in a more menacing light than my favorite baritoned side-burn enthusiast, especially now that we know he's murdered more than once and had a real hankering for cheeseburgers after his first kill. Charlotte's latest adventure in illegal underground tunnel management was more eventful and while I was glad to see her take more of the spotlight than Ray, the story simultaneously made me cheer for and shake my head at this woman. When Marciella confronts Charlotte about the transmitters found in Ray's latest gun shipment (completely unbeknownst to Charlotte, of course) with a box cutter, she is rescued by Caesar, who is totally badass with a shotgun. Equally as ruthless, though a bit less honorable, was Charotte's use of a pitchfork to dispose of Marciella, permanently so. While this act of defiance was a refreshing return to the characterization of Charlotte as a strong and unpredictable survivor, I couldn't help but scoff at her insistence to kick Marciella's body into the grave she in no way appeared to help Caesar dig, especially when she told the man when the hole was deep enough and bid him farewell as soon as the bodies were dumped but before the grave was filled. God forbid she actually get her hands dirty; good thing Caesar's such a gentleman "I'm going to take my wife to the movies and forget this ever happened." Despite her poor grave digging etiquette, I'm hoping this development, while clearly something that will incur some dire consequences, probably involving Fausto Galvan, possibly bringing Steven into the mix, will help Charlotte part ways with Ray before the ATF clamps down on him and Tampa Tim. Often when a narrative divulges in plot development it sacrifices character development, but "The Beetle" juggles both quite well if not at the risk of occasionally neglecting the robuster elements of its setting's cultural controversy and atmospheric richness. But having spent so much time establishing these latter aspects and with four more episodes left to explore their space even more so, I shouldn't be too worried that the second half of the season will be plot-heavy to a fault, especially when the action is conveyed as skillfully as it was in "The Beetle." Hopefully though the same personal grounding that Tate's vengeance against Marco received this episode will be incorporated with his larger political goals in the next few episodes.