(spoiler for the fifth season finale)
After a thrilling ending in Episode 9, in which Dot (Juno Temple) is narrowly rescued by Ole Munch (Sam Spruell) – for reasons that won't be explained until later – and the Feds prepare to raid the Tillman Ranch with dozens of Roys ( Jon) to storm Hamm) there are heavily armed altar boys waiting; the season finale ends, not in a hail of bullets, but with cookies around a table. It's an ending reminiscent of the early Fargo seasons, a trend that creator Noah Hawley has maintained since the beginning of this season, although breaking bread with an opponent, an immortal one at that, is completely new territory. It's inventive, but this particular storyline, like many others this season, leaves something to be desired.
This season spent much of its ten episodes hovering around the “pretty good” mark, with occasional dips in a sluggish middle part of the season (I'm still annoyed by the fact that Episode 7 amounted to little more than, “But it was all a… “dream”), although most of the time was well spent. Despite its awfulness, the pathetic story of Gator (Joe Keery) is touching; The story of a boy transformed into an insecure goblin by a monster of a man deserves compassion. Although Gator has not come close to redemption – although he has paid a heavy price for his transgressions – his end stands as both a measure of justice (prison) and a measure of the hope offered to him (maternal affection over Dot ), appropriate.
But there were enough loose developmental threads to prevent season five from achieving greatness. The most obvious example is now-former deputy Indira Olmstead (Richa Moorjani), a character who starts the season with enormous potential but ends up with the least payoff – a shame considering the show's swagger a larger number of strong female characters than usual. Sure, she finally gets rid of her good-for-nothing husband – I'm assuming her sizable raise comes with lawyer perks – but once she's employed by Lorraine Lyon (Jennifer Jason Leigh), Indira stops being an active player, except for a single fateful phone call to a doomed congressman. It's as if Indira's story came to an abrupt end the moment she swapped the uniform for these stylish but sensible trousers.
Our other primary police officer, Deputy Witt Farr (Lamorne Morris), also suffers from underutilization. Unfortunately, in the fight against good and evil, the latter wins more often than it should. Witt would never last long in this world, no matter how reckless he was in the face of danger (the way he valiantly tried to get Dot out of the hospital despite being hopelessly outnumbered was proof enough). The moment he entered that escape tunnel, it was clear that he would never leave it again, but as much as I didn't want to see him die, I wanted there to be at least one substantial scene that made it possible, Witt's characterization to make it somewhat independent of “save dot”.
When it comes to Dot and the scene at the last dinner table, I'm still not convinced by the simple formulation of the theme of forgiveness (“Do you want to know the cure? You have to eat something made with love and joy and you will forgive”). Winning over Ole Munch with the power of domesticity feels a bit like giving the Babadook the Care Bear look. It's undoubtedly a well-acted scene, and I found the comedic aspect more convincing than the imposed amiability (the sudden appearance of the orange soda is probably the funniest thing that happens in the entire series). But while this is an ending that rings hollow for Mr. Moonk, it admittedly represents a more natural climax for Dot, who is finally able to shield herself with exactly what she's been striving for all along: a peaceful one At home .
Kaleena Rivera is a TV editor for Pajiba. When she's not tempted to spend the weekend baking cookies, you can find her here at Bluesky.