The director Rian Johnson is having a big weekend, because his murder mystery--“Knives Out”--has made a major splash with critics. I can’t wait to see it. I’d see any Agatha Christie-inspired work. But there’s a special reason to be excited about “Knives Out,” and that reason is contained within one word: “Ozymandias.”
Mr. Johnson didn’t write “Ozymandias,” from “Breaking Bad,” but he directed it, and I imagine he had a say in the construction of certain images. So many moments in this hour are memorable: It’s maybe my favorite hour in TV history.
The supreme weirdness of the hour is established right away. We know we’re tiptoeing toward a major gunfight, but the storytellers tease us. They don’t start with the gunfight. They flashback one year to give us a little domestic tidbit: The baby Holly, we learn, earned her name one day when Walt was late home from a “cook.” To appease his wife, he threw her, Skyler, a bone: “Hey, let’s name the baby HOLLY.” We wonder: Why are we seeing this scene?
Then: the gunfight, which less-brilliant storytellers would save for the climax. Within ten minutes of the opening, we lose one of the iconic characters in the series: Hank. Jaws drop.
What I really love about Johnson’s work--and the writer’s work--is that they realize, though Hank’s death is dramatic, it’s not particularly groundbreaking. In other words, there isn’t much in the way of surprise or weirdness in this scene. What follows is REAL SHAKESPEAREAN WEIRDNESS. Shit hits the fan. Skyler apprehends just how awful her husband is. She pulls out a kitchen knife and lunges for him; for a minute, it seems that Skyler, Walt, AND Walt, Jr. might die in a “Hamlet”-esque kitchen-sink showdown. No one dies. But Walt ABDUCTS HIS OWN INFANT DAUGHTER. He ENGINEERS A PHONE CALL THAT MEANS MORE THAN IT SEEMS TO MEAN, because he knows cops are listening on the other end. Finally, HE ABANDONS HIS DAUGHTER IN A CHUGGING FIRETRUCK, because he knows people will spot the (strange, haunting) firetruck and understand that something is very wrong. (We now know why we began this episode with a short story about baby Holly.)
Gut-punch after gut-punch after gut-punch. I’m not sure I can get tired of writing about “Ozymandias.” I even love the title: The storytellers seem to be saying, “Yes, we’re using a flowery, literary title BECAUSE WE HAVE EARNED IT. We are swinging for the fences.”
Something to remember if you see “Knives Out” this weekend. I’m so inspired by this guy. Enjoy!
Mr. Johnson didn’t write “Ozymandias,” from “Breaking Bad,” but he directed it, and I imagine he had a say in the construction of certain images. So many moments in this hour are memorable: It’s maybe my favorite hour in TV history.
The supreme weirdness of the hour is established right away. We know we’re tiptoeing toward a major gunfight, but the storytellers tease us. They don’t start with the gunfight. They flashback one year to give us a little domestic tidbit: The baby Holly, we learn, earned her name one day when Walt was late home from a “cook.” To appease his wife, he threw her, Skyler, a bone: “Hey, let’s name the baby HOLLY.” We wonder: Why are we seeing this scene?
Then: the gunfight, which less-brilliant storytellers would save for the climax. Within ten minutes of the opening, we lose one of the iconic characters in the series: Hank. Jaws drop.
What I really love about Johnson’s work--and the writer’s work--is that they realize, though Hank’s death is dramatic, it’s not particularly groundbreaking. In other words, there isn’t much in the way of surprise or weirdness in this scene. What follows is REAL SHAKESPEAREAN WEIRDNESS. Shit hits the fan. Skyler apprehends just how awful her husband is. She pulls out a kitchen knife and lunges for him; for a minute, it seems that Skyler, Walt, AND Walt, Jr. might die in a “Hamlet”-esque kitchen-sink showdown. No one dies. But Walt ABDUCTS HIS OWN INFANT DAUGHTER. He ENGINEERS A PHONE CALL THAT MEANS MORE THAN IT SEEMS TO MEAN, because he knows cops are listening on the other end. Finally, HE ABANDONS HIS DAUGHTER IN A CHUGGING FIRETRUCK, because he knows people will spot the (strange, haunting) firetruck and understand that something is very wrong. (We now know why we began this episode with a short story about baby Holly.)
Gut-punch after gut-punch after gut-punch. I’m not sure I can get tired of writing about “Ozymandias.” I even love the title: The storytellers seem to be saying, “Yes, we’re using a flowery, literary title BECAUSE WE HAVE EARNED IT. We are swinging for the fences.”
Something to remember if you see “Knives Out” this weekend. I’m so inspired by this guy. Enjoy!
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