The Killing :: First Thoughts :: Night 8

The Adriana Moment

After watching "Undertow" on Sunday, I thought The Killing might have reached The Adriana Moment for me. The Adriana Moment is when a television show makes me feel so disgusted with my species—and with me as a member of it—that I can't follow the story any longer; it refers to the episode of The Sopranos when, on Tony's orders, Silvio executes Adriana. Yes, Adriana had provided information to the FBI. No, she wasn't exactly a civilian; she was involved—at the periphery, not in important ways—in mob business. But still. Sweet, dumb Adriana? Driven into the woods—there we go again—and shot? Her death was nauseating, but I, like the rest of the audience, experienced the story from Tony's perspective. He had a family, a "business," a lifestyle to protect. She had to die. And when I understood that necessity, I quit watching. I was horrified that on one level I agreed with Tony's orders. I didn't tune in again until the series finale when I hoped Tony would get his [while simultaneously praying that he didn't].

So when Stan [my favorite character] killed* Bennet [my second favorite character], I was really upset. Was Bennet's kidnapping and beating plausible? Certainly. Motivated? Yes. Stan didn't know what the audience did, that Detectives Linden and Holder—and Mitch with the discovery of Rosie's actual pink T-shirt—had cleared Bennet of guilt**, and so, as an archetypal figure who had demonstrated perfect grief, his perfect rage should not have surprised me. But still. The poor little frog who just wanted his place at the table? Punched and kicked, his head cracked, no prince magically emerging after the violence? I felt that same disgust with my species that Adriana's death had provoked.

Bloody Lips, Eh?

But then, my interest in the story, my commitment to continue watching, was saved.

I learned early in this project not to read anyone else's thoughts on a work until after I had written my own. Good writers can persuade me to arrive at opinions I wouldn't reach myself, so I avoid their reviews until I have written mine.

With The Killing, however, I have followed the weekly episode recaps/analyses at The Los Angeles Times and New York Magazine. [I rationalize this indulgence by telling myself that these posts of mine are not really reviews.] So on Monday morning, I wanted to see what the professionals had to say. I was shocked to discover that Todd VanDerWerff of The Los Angeles Times and Andy Greenwald of New York Magazine were blaming the series, the genre—not Stan's horrific action, not the consequences of it, not their own willingness to embrace the teacher as suspect—for the bad taste that "Undertow" had left in their mouths.

Obviously, all the fat red herrings, dangled on sharp hooks, had bloodied up these boys' lips. Instead of taking responsibility for swallowing so many of them in the first place, they were now faulting the series for cheap coincidences.

Don't you guys get it? Thirteen [13!] hours on one [1!] murder means that this show is a game, a puzzle, a tussle, like the purchase of a used car from a salesman with a combover. You cannot be a passive viewer, upset that you've been tricked, outfoxed, suckered into a higher price than you needed to pay. You have to expect that your opponent is smarter [in this matter], cheating you, fooling you! This is where the fun is!

And by the way, if this series had been set in New York, no one would find two "I ♥ NY" T-shirts improbable; if this series had been set in Florida, two girls owning pink Walt Disney World T-shirts would not be out of the question. The Grand Canyon and Seattle are both West US; the two T-shirts [not identical—go back and look] do not seem a cheap coincidence. The Grand Canyon is a close enough destination for Washington families to take their kids on vacation.

I think the real reason these writers were upset is that like the unthinking masses they believe themselves too educated and worldly to be a part of, they too had thought the worst of a teacher—one who had a believable explanation every time the evidence pointed his way. I'm not certain why this teacher bashing happens. My theory is that young people are pulled in two directions: where their parents want them to go [same church, same political leanings, same social class] and where their teachers indicate they can go. Most people follow the path their families have laid out, and they later resent their teachers for inspiring dreams they didn't have the courage to pursue. This resentment turns into voting decisions that punish teachers with low pay and little respect—all the while, everyone still expects sacrifices and miracles in the classroom that Jesus himself would tire of performing. For every Mary Kay Letourneau, thousands of teachers leave for school every morning—as Bennet tried to do—to do their jobs, and well.

So I am ready to go head-to-head with The Killing creative team to try to determine who the bad guy is. I don't mind if future episodes prove me wrong. It's all part of the fun.

Plausibility and Satisfaction

I'm still convinced the $2,000 shoes and the end-of-the-line bus rides are important early clues that Linden and Holder did not given sufficient attention. Who has the money to purchase such expensive footwear for Rosie? Who would have an interest in the basketball program?

Councilman Richmond: Darren is the sponsor of the Seattle All-Stars and has a sizable campaign budget, so he might have met Rosie at the All-Star headquarters and could swing the purchase of the shoes. Clues of his involvement include 1) no one checking Gwen's claim that she was with him, out of town, the weekend Rosie disappeared [so he might not actually have an alibi], and 2) the freaky spider-in-a-web reflection when he smashes the bathroom mirror, which inspires that Oh-what-tangled-webs-we-weave-when-first-we-practice-to-deceive rhyme in my head. Plausible? No, I can't see Darren and Gwen pushing that big black car—their own expensive shoes caking with shore muck—into the lake. Satisfying? Only for people who like to see the really virtuous toppled as hypocrites.

Mayor Adams: We know the mayor is a sleaze. Clues of his involvement include 1) shady development deals giving the mayor enough money to buy designer shoes, and 2) the discovery of Rosie's body in a Richmond campaign car, which has certainly helped him pull ahead in the polls. Plausible? Not really. Unlike Stan, for instance, he does not seem capable of getting his hands the kind of dirty that would require chasing Rosie through the woods, tying her up, and drowning her in the trunk. Satisfying? No, we want someone whose sleaziness comes as an unexpected surprise.

Tom Drexler: Our Seattle billionaire seems so numb to regular human pleasures that his stimulation includes illegal cage fights and $5 million free-throw bets. Was he playing midnight pick-up games in the bad part of town to feel something, anything—and there met Rosie? Would his amorality and world weariness inspire him to stage a "Most Dangerous Game," where the wealthy aristocrat hunts another human being for sport? Plausible? Hardly. Satisfying? No. We have only fanciful speculation, no hard clues. Our satisfaction will arrive from seeing where we erred in our interpretation of real evidence.

Michael Ames: Jasper's father has the money to buy the shoes. He doesn't have a connection to the Seattle All-Stars—or to basketball, for that matter—but he does have two connections to Rosie, his son and Rosie's Aunt Terry.*** We know he doesn't mind getting his hands dirty, as we saw him slap Jasper on the first evening. And like Bennet, he came to the wake, was in Mitch's house, ate her food. That the wrong man paid for that affront would be a nice piece of irony. Plausible? If Mr. Ames had "stolen" Rosie from Jasper, it would explain Kris's comment that Jasper hated Rosie. Satisfying? I certainly wouldn't mind the man who raised such an entitled little prick eventually going down.

Okay, creative team, prove me wrong!

*Bennet needs to be dead. Stan knows what he's doing. On life support in an intensive care unit will not work for me, as much as I like both Bennet and Stan.

**That Bennet is the actual killer—his vindication after Muhammed's interrogation the biggest, fattest, juciest red herring of them all—is still possible. Although after chaperoning the dance so late and moving Aisha to a safer location, when would he have had time to kill and dispose of a body? That's too busy a night for anyone.

***I won't be surprised to learn that Aunt Terry inadvertently set up Rosie's death. Even she might not know it yet. Maybe a "girls' night out" while the clueless parents were camping initiated Rosie's meeting with her murderer. Maybe that explains what Rosie's textbooks were doing in Terry's car.