Ani’s conversation with her sister is downright bizarre, particularly since she couples the line “I don’t get art” with stabbing a giant wooden sculpture that would be at home in a modern art gallery. There is a lot of build-up to it – Pizzolatto’s at his best when he adds context and background for a big moment – and those scenes bubble with intrigue. Still, the big set-piece for this episode is Ani’s clandestine visit to the sex party. As a gangster/detective with a sophisticated conscience, somehow Frank has less charisma than when the show started, and it’s not Vaughn’s fault. Frank has a couple of zingers, including a groan-inducing one during a Mexican stand-off, and it’s the best thing I can say about his arc. Those themes are not as interesting as Pizzolatto thinks – we all live with profound regrets and failures – so once again the best way to watch this season is as a black comedy. And since he’s also dead, Dixon’s guilt would fit in with a recurring themes of dissatisfaction and the psychological consequences of failure. Earl Brown), who led Paul through the pawn shops with way too much ease in the first couple episodes. She ends up dead, of course, because the Mexican cartel learns she got the goods from a cop, which leads to the season’s first genuine whodunit. The only interesting thing is how Ray refers to the man he killed: at first he says, “the man who attacked my wife,” but by the end he calls him, “my rapist.” Once again, Ray (and Pizzolatto by extension) have little empathy for the actual victim because they see cuckolding as the worse transgression.Īfter the opening, Frank spends the episode away from the action: working his own investigation, he wants to find the woman who is responsible for pawning Caspere’s stolen diamonds. The opening reminded me of this scene from Gross Pointe Blank, which also features two violent men with guns under a table, except here the laughs are intentional. The conversation is tense, yet the scene works as comedy since both men have their guns pointed at each other under the table (a dick-waving contest if there was one). Angry that he “sold his soul” on bad information, Ray wants the real story from Frank, who regrets the error but refuses to take responsibility for it. Ray learns it’s all bullshit – they caught the actual guy a month ago – so now his emasculation is complete. “Church in Ruins” opens exactly where we left off, with Ray confronting Frank about the man he believed to be his wife’s rapist. That sequence has its own problems, both in terms of form and narrative, but before that let’s focus on the scenes that led up to it. Aside from the location and actors, the other major difference between the seasons is an economic one: instead of snuff films, we have a Bohemian Grove-style orgy where powerful men enjoy easy sex. I didn’t recap last week’s True Detective because I was traveling, but what struck me about that episode is how it mirrored season one: in both stories, we have broken ex-cops who return to the case that made their career because something seems too pat about their original conclusion. Maybe it’s time to be more discerning and critical about my viewing choices.
Perhaps this realization should have happened sooner, but I stubbornly gave the show the benefit of the doubt. Ray has his reasons, which are worth discussing, and yet the scene has so little imagination that it veers toward parody. After effectively ending his relationship with his son – partially because the kid likes the television show Friends – Ray indulges in scotch, a baggie of coke, and macho-posturing while frenzied rock music plays in the background. The moment happens midway through the episode, in a frenzied sequence where Ray spirals back toward addiction. In this week’s True Detective, it became apparent that Nic Pizzolatto is out of ideas.