Ozark surpassing Breaking Bad (Spoilers)

When it premiered, Ozark was met with a certain degree of skepticism and even suspicion. Though it garnered positive reviews, many TV critics had mixed emotions about the latest sleek Netflix drama. In Vox magazine, Emily St. James argued she found the white guy antihero trope somewhat clichéd. Not helping matters was the fact that a critical darling loomed large over the show, inviting some comparisons with Ozark. That show, of course, is Breaking Bad, the crown jewel of the good-guy-turned-drug-kingpin genre. It was inevitable to put them side by side given some of their similarities. After all, in Ozark’s earlier episodes, it did seem like Marty (Jason Bateman) was going to be the heart of the show. It’s his voice we first hear, waxing poetic about how “money is, at its essence, that measure of a man’s choices.” In both Ozark and Breaking Bad, we had two middle class men trying to provide for their families, while complicated circumstances drive them to the underworld of drug trafficking. 

These comparisons did not stop it from becoming a Netflix hit. When the fourth season debuted, it hit a historic high of 4 billion minutes of viewing, per Nielsen ratings. What made it so irresistible? Five years later, the Byrdes are still at it. Its reputation had steadily but stealthily grown – a rarity in our short span times. The first episode of Season 4 starts with a flurry of activity: the Byrdes are now prosperous casino owners, but somehow their list of antagonists is longer than ever. In the first season, The Byrdes had landed in Missouri. There, financial adviser Marty Byrde (Jason Bateman) and his wife Wendy (Laura Linney) had to somehow find a way to launder $500m for a criminal cartel. The word “Ozark” had a certain obscure mystery, at least to non-American viewers. Ozark sounds like dark: spiky z’s and k’s.  

Ozark’s unexpected triumph is partly down to those old-fashioned qualities of writing, acting and directing. Classic. Ozark’s violent twists and dark mood are leavened with intelligent humour. In the face of all this misery, what is there to do but wisecrack? It has a distinctive gloomy aesthetic all of its own, which makes oppressive use of the landscape, all looming forests and brackish water, lit in milky sunshine. In Laura Linney’s brilliant hands, Wendy has evolved from something like a stock wife into an unpredictable, power-thirsty anti-heroine all of her own. Although Jason Bateman was best known for holding the erratic Bluth family together in Arrested Development, he had shown in Juno that he could be a really creepy nice guy. 

His shifty smile told you that for all his outward respectability, in another world he could do shady things. In Ozark, he has been able to show just how immoral, sleazy, and tricksy anti-hero Marty has become. Ironically, Ozark has superseded the original potential Breaking Bad had once long time ago. Especially if you think Breaking Bad might have been a bit overrated. Of all the great TV dramas since The Sopranos, it is only Mad Men that portrayed a rather optimistic view of America, and that was set in the postwar glow of the Fifties and Sixties. It certainly says something that so many of the country’s great dramas are about drugs. Breaking Bad dealt with meth, Better Call Saul deals with meth, too. Dopesick was a devastating portrayal of the opioid crisis caused by the Sackler family. 

Ozark also plays out against the legacy of the opioid epidemic, with its lingering boost for the heroin market. Baltimore, Albuquerque, or the Lake of the Ozarks: these are the left-behind places of America, far away from technology gold-rush or clean-living finance executives. Drugs turn the individual against themselves, and the drug trade turns Americans against each other. In a subtly different scenario, Marty, a drab financial adviser, would never have been obligated to operate in this shadow world. It’s not just these individuals that have broken, but the system has, too. Linney’s and Bateman’s outstanding performances are the reason this despicable pair can be so enjoyable to watch while they go wallowing into their moral misery. During its four seasons, the Byrdes become less sympathetic, less relatable. 

Specially, Wendy leaves behind our initial sympathy we had for her as a mom screwed out of the labor force after a depressive episode following her miscarriage. Marty might have made the deal with the devil, but only with her blessing. And once Wendy realizes that her strategic power can surpass that of her husband, she appears chilling, insane, and using up every benefit of the doubt afforded to educated white women. Wendy becomes a more formidable presence with every passing episode. She has her reasons for her behaviour, though. Camila Navarro was relentless in her vengeance, and even Clare Shaw did not hesitate to put her self-preservation first. Paradoxically, the Byrdes have distinguished from other criminal characters being unusually effective by manipulating people who are often worse than them. It’s like the show finally found its footing by being its unabashed self: hyperbolic, dizzying, and unwilling to give real redemption to Wendy and Marty. While previous seasons had relished in plenty of deaths, those killed were by no means innocent bystanders. 

They all had blood in their hands, and the world was probably better off without them. With the exception of Ben. As it's made apparent in the series conclusion, Ben's ashes will follow the seemingly indestructible Byrde family forever. Unlike Breaking Bad, Ozark wasn’t really a story about a family’s fall from grace. It was a story about how a system built up around the American middle class family is already rotten. Shaw Medical is going nowhere. The Navarro cartel will continue to thrive, thanks, in no small part, to the FBI’s dependence on the cash seizures it can get from them. The Byrdes will get to play do-gooders thanks to their foundation. It is a tale as old as America, but television has not always had such a pessimistic outlook. In this sense, the show was unflinching in its critique of the American Dream. Source: www.independent.co.uk

“The question of whether America is in decline cannot be answered yes or no. Both answers are wrong, because the assumption that somehow there exists some predetermined inevitable trajectory, the result of uncontrollable external forces, is wrong. Nothing is inevitable. Nothing is written. For America today, decline is not a condition. Decline is a choice.” —American political columnist for The Washington Post -and Pulitzer Prize winner in 1987- Charles Krauthammer (1950-2018)

"A Hard Way to Go": the bleak ending of Ozark

Wendy Byrde (the exquisite Laura Linney), has checked herself into a mental hospital in an attempt to prevent her father, Nathan (Richard Thomas), from taking their kids back with him to North Carolina. Wendy might be a terrible parent, but she refuses to let her children suffer at the hands of Nathan, an alcoholic who was sometimes abusive to her as a kid. Marty has finally reached a breaking point as he attempts to simultaneously assuage the cartel, the FBI, and his family, so if Ruth doesn’t help him win back his kids, he might tell the cartel that she killed Javi. Marty meets with Camila, Omar’s sister and the Byrde family’s ally as they attempt to a) kill Omar and b) fulfill their deal with the FBI. They sketch out their plan, which involves a cell transfer in which Omar will “escape” only to get gunned down, and Camila will take over the cartel, so long as she continues making regular payments to America's finest law enforcement agency. But Camila wants to meet with the FBI first to soothe any doubts, and Marty agrees. Meanwhile, Ruth confronts Wendy at the mental hospital, where she tells her she’ll try to get the kids back on her side. 

Ruth finally admits she’s sorry for letting Ben (Tom Pelphrey), Wendy’s brother, out of the same exact mental hospital last season. If she’d have left him alone, despite his suffering, he’d still be alive. Ruth withdraws a gun from her safe and visits Nathan in his motel room at the Lazy O, with the premise of toasting Ben's life and death. For the first few minutes of their conversation, Ruth and Nathan discuss Wendy’s “reputation” for promiscuity, a trait Nathan clearly resented. “Well, you beat her,” Ruth says, with a sweet smile. After Nathan’s face falls—“How's that?”—her eyelashes flutter. “You won! You got Jonah and Charlotte!” But we know the act won’t last long, and within minutes, Ruth’s switched off the doe-eyes. “You don't even fucking want them, do you?” she asks. Increasingly agitated as the conversation grows frosty, Nathan admits his real intentions: He only wants custody over Charlotte and Jonah to punish his daughter. “She was a slut and an embarrassment,” he says. As he turns to place the whiskey bottle on ice, Ruth pulls out her gun and shoots a glass on the counter, exploding it into pieces. Charlotte and Jonah come running, and Ruth demands Nathan tell them the truth behind his custody battle—or she’ll shoot him in the dick. (This show has a thing for dick-shooting.)

Showrunner Chris Mundy says: “Marty and Wendy love each other, but they’re also the only two people who have lived through this. How can they have a normal relationship with anybody else or in any other situation?” After leaving the mental hospital as a family, Wendy has accomplished her task of getting the gang back together. As she climbs into the passenger seat, she shoots Marty a sweet, almost bashful smile. “You really didn't have to threaten Ruth,” she says, as if it’s the most romantic gesture her husband has ever attempted. In the Byrdes’s love language, it probably is. Season 4 has spent many of its best Marty-Wendy scenes emphasizing the dynamics of their marriage: Wendy pushes for control, and Marty acquiesces, in part because she's erratic, but also because he loves her. (Keep in mind that, in Ozark’s pilot episode, Marty spent the first half obsessed with the fact that his wife was cheating on him, and the second half desperately trying to protect her.) Whether or not it’s true, he feels, by now, that everything he’s done this season—going to Mexico, cooperating with the FBI, distancing from Ruth—is for his wife. Marty visits Ruth to confirm Nelson’s at the bottom of her pool. Marty offers to give her a new identity after Omar's assassination, but Ruth refuses: “I like my name.” So Marty invites her, as the casino's new ownership, to meet with the cartel and FBI, where they’ll hammer down the details of their laundering arrangement. Source: elle.com

Showrunner Chris Mundy tells Vanity Fair that the writers room argued spiritedly about which of the show’s still-standing characters, Byrdes included, would survive the finale—considering that so many people who crossed Marty and Wendy during their criminal descent wound up dead. Ultimately, the room wrote the finale in accordance with its season-four credo: “Building a myth. Creating a curse.” But in plotting out the death of Ruth, it was important to Mundy that her fate be self-propelled. So Ruth’s death is a direct result of her decision to avenge Wyatt’s death by killing Javi. “I wanted everybody to have active choices in the last seven episodes,” says Mundy, pointing out that Ruth had a decision to make after Javi killed her cousin Wyatt. “Ruth could go for revenge or not, and she knows if she did, it is going to unleash things that might end up with her getting harmed. People keep saying Ruth got caught in the crossfire of the Byrdes, but Ruth's actual death had nothing to do with the Byrdes. Ruth killed Javi, and the Byrdes tried to help her stop it but Ruth held them at gunpoint. Wyatt's death happened because of his association with Darlene, not the Byrdes. Darlene even had positioned against the Byrdes and had crossed the cartel. The Byrdes couldn't save Ruth or they all would've gotten killed. They actually showed remorse and were trying to think of anything they could do to stop it, including calling a hitman, but everything was in play already...” 

The show winds down after Ruth’s death with a coda scene in which the Byrde family returns home to find Mel (Adam Rothenberg), the private investigator who had been looking into Ben’s death. Mel’s holding the cookie jar containing Ben’s ashes, and reveals that he has discovered that Wendy offered up her brother like the ultimate sacrificial lamb in her quest for power. “You don’t get it, do you?” Mel tells Wendy and Marty, in their backyard. “You don’t get to win. You don’t get to be the Kochs or the Kennedys or whatever fucking royalty you people think you are. The world doesn’t work like that.” At that moment, Jonah appears with a shotgun—a callback to the season-one finale, in which Jonah pulls a gun on Garcia only to find out it is unloaded. (Buddy, played by Harris Yulin, saved the day.) This time, though, the gun is loaded. Jonah pulls the trigger, the screen cuts to black, and a gunshot is heard—meaning that the Byrdes have miraculously survived Ozark’s deadly fate. In a way, Mundy says, Jonah killing Mel signifies “the family being brought back together through this act of violence.” The showrunner wanted to end the series on a note so unexpected that it took viewers a beat to process whether Jonah killing Mel is “a thing to cheer for or not.” He adds, “We wanted people to think about the reality of what happened, not just in the context of watching a TV show, but also in whatever reality these characters are going to keep living in.” Source: www.vanityfair.com

Ozark Season 4 Part 2 Theories

I spent an embarrassingly long amount of time dissecting the trailer of Ozark Season 4 Part 2. Wendy is my favorite character, and I just want her and Marty to somehow come out of this together. Unlikely chance, but one can dream. Based on the trailer, Netflix stills, and comments I’ve read from the show runner and actors themselves: Wendy is clearly headed towards a mental breakdown. She cannot accept what she did to her brother Ben and she is basically dissociating. She’s so consumed with guilt and grief that I think she’s beginning to truly believe the lie she started on Season 4 Part 1 - that he is missing. 

From what the show runner said, it sounds like they will be focusing more on Wendy’s mental issues. So I’m assuming she’s going to do some more crazy things when it comes to “looking for Ben.” I think Marty will be conflicted about Wendy's choices so far. I do not know what’s going to happen with Javi. Maybe Ruth shoots and kills him right away and that sets everything into motion. Either way, Navarro has to begrudgingly use Marty and Wendy to find a way back on top. So Marty goes to Mexico to take care of businesses. I wonder what role Javi’s mom will play? Meanwhile Wendy could be at home dealing with detective Mel and her dad looking into Ben’s disappearance. Maybe she’s confronted by them with a photo. I’m sure it’ll all blow up and Marty will learn about it when he gets back. 

Somehow they have a plan to meet up with the FBI as discussed in the van. Jonah is with them probably because he has nowhere else to go, but he’s still pissed at Wendy. Wendy seems like she’s on a relaxed mood but Marty is iffy. I think the significance of the car crash is that it’ll be the thing that brings the family together. They will realize they only have each other and could lose each other at any moment. It’ll change their perspective. I think it’ll happen maybe in the penultimate episode. Perhaps this will be the event that snaps Wendy back into reality. I think the Foundation event will happen and it will be real. 

But something will go wrong. And somehow at the last minute, the Byrdes might come out on top. They’ve outsmarted everyone (both intentionally and not intentionally) so far and have elevated themselves higher and higher each season. So everyone expects them to die or go to prison, but instead they’ll “win.” Other theories I’ve seen: Wendy gets committed at some point, Marty or Wendy betray each other (I don’t think that will happen), or they will be killed at their big event. If I'm remembering correctly, Navarro's relationship with his sister is strained, and the reason he brought up the whole "those closest to you are the first to abandon you" speech. I’d like to hope Ruth and Marty end on good terms regardless of what happens. I have a hard time truly feeling bad for her because most of what has happened to her family is her fault or at least a result of things she’s done. I do feel bad about the guilt and grief she must feel over Wyatt. 

I don’t think we know who attacks Wendy. I don't think it's Jonah, Sam, or her dad. Wendy is trying to get the Byrde name out there, the brand, very publicly. Perhaps it is someone related to the rehab centers or someone who knew Ben. I think Marty sees Wendy get attacked by some man, reacts emotionally, and pounds the guy. He just snaps. I think he looks so upset walking away because he is coming off adrenaline for snapping. There is another scene in the trailer where Wendy is being attacked again. It looks like she is being dragged up some stairs. I am 99% sure that it is her dad. I saw a still of him wearing the same clothing. Seems like he was abusive to her as a child. Maybe he finds out what happened to Ben. I also think the poster that shows Wendy dead-eyed with blood on her head is after whatever this incident is. It looks like the same colonial brick building in the background. Perhaps a court house, a police station, a church? Source: medium.com

Bruce Willis stepping away from his film career

The news of Bruce Willis’s retirement on health grounds brings its own special kind of sadness. Admittedly, he has been booking some dodgy films in the last year or so – I recently sat through a pretty sorry action thriller called Out of Death with Bruce in his comfort zone as the retired cop who has to take on a terrifying situation. But even there, Willis’s coolly amiable, faintly contemptuous, always battle-ready presence sprinkled a little much-needed vinegar in the blandness. And so often in so many different kinds of film, Bruce Willis has been the wild card, an iconic action hero with a heart and tons of humor.

He has been the archetypal super-testosterone male-pattern, the guy who made wearing a vest – not a t-shirt, a vest – look iconic. Despite being the rebel with bullshit-detector on high alert, Bruce has often been cast as the authority figure. For all of us, he will always be the legendary maverick warrior-cop John McClane in Die Hard saving his estranged wife in a high-rise office block on Christmas (perhaps saving Christmas itself) with that bizarre battle-cry: “Yippee-kai-ay, motherfucker!” and putting the all-American smackdown on loathsome Euro-Brit terrorist bad guys like Alan Rickman and Jeremy Irons. But what a superbly subtle, gentle performance as child psychologist Dr Malcolm Crowe in M Night Shyamalan’s The Sixth Sense, deeply troubled by the state of his marriage. Somehow, the film’s whiplash final twist does not diminish Willis who maintains a plain-speaking humorous dignity throughout.

In Wes Anderson’s comedy Moonrise Kingdom he plays another cop, the quietly spoken small town officer Captain Sharp who has to deputise kids in the local scout troop for the search party when two young lovers go missing. It’s such a lovely, gentle performance – maybe my absolute favourite of his. But for sheer impact, it can’t match his great performance as Butch Coolidge in Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction: the punchy prizefighter with the troubled childhood memories who contrives to kill the hitman sent to kill him for winning a fight he’d been bribed to throw – and then rescues the guy who wants to kill him from an awful fate.

Willis, the grizzle-haired tough guy with a sense of humour, is the only actor who could have carried off this supremely bizarre role and even endow it with sympathy and even underdog charm. It’s so sad for all of us that Willis will not take any more movie roles. It’s like seeing a great sports star suddenly getting an injury or a sandwich shop deciding to withdraw one of its tastiest flavours. All we can do is wish all the best to Bruce and his family for a happy retirement. Source: theguardian.com

Jessica Chastain (Oscar Contender) shines in "The Eyes of Tammy Faye"

Jessica Chastain’s portrayal of the notorious American television evangelist and gospel singer Tammy Faye is at the moment the favorite contender in the battle of the biopics which is dominating the Best Actress category at this year’s Oscars race. Chastain will go up against Nicole Kidman (Being the Ricardos), Kristen Stewart (Spencer) and Penelope Cruz (Madres Paralelas). Chastain had her eye on Tammy’s story since 2012 when she bought the rights to a documentary made in 2000 by Fenton Bailey and Randy Barbato. Unlike Jerry Falwell, who had a selective view of those eligible for a block of heavenly real estate, Tammy Faye Bakker was convinced that all would be welcomed into the afterlife. As a result, she openly defended gay rights and advocated support for AIDS sufferers when her church was stigmatising them. 

In "The Eyes of Tammy Faye," Vincent D’Onofrio plays Jerry Falwell as a gruff power broker who considers gay people to be evil, and we see, through him, how the new Christianity will market itself, competing with secular America on its own corrupt terms. Tammy Faye, by contrast, is chirpy and volatile, but by offering God’s embrace to people with AIDS, she shows what true Christianity is: love versus what some Christian sects around her are turning (into hate towards the misfits).

"Fall From Grace" TV film, 1990: Kevin Spacey as Jim Bakker, and Bernadette Peters as Tammy Faye Bakker.

Tammy’s abundant cosmetic armoury–wigs, false eyelashes, tattooed eye and lip liner–is showier over the years, as if she’s afraid she might disappear without it. Chastain herself does the opposite and disappears into it – yet it’s not a performance made up of prosthetics and mannerisms. Chastain catches the fear beneath the pretence, along with Tammy’s urgent desire to maintain her vision of herself as a good person despite the hypocrisy that underpins her existence. Although Chastain was at first a bit suspicious of devoutly religious people, she learned a valuable lesson through Tammy Faye's character. 

Jessica Chastain: “In some sense, Tammy Faye's openness is something we all have. We all have this earnestness inside of us, but it’s taken out of us by the cruelness police. There is so much celebration of that cynicism nowadays. Random acts of love are sometimes seen as weakness, and, in reality, I see that as courageous and brave and beautiful. We are trained to make fun of that, so I had to get over that, and it made me so much happier. As I was studying her, I found her to be a very sensual person in all aspects. I saw that in how she hugged strangers or how she tasted food. Tammy grew up in a community that was Pentecostal, and there were so many restrictions. Tammy talks in her book about how could God not love something that makes you feel beautiful, that makes you feel loved and makes you feel joy. For her, God and faith didn’t equal deprivation.” Source: www.smh.com.au

The most boring person in the world has been revealed by University of Essex research—and it is a religious data entry worker, who likes watching TV, and lives in a small town. The paper, published in Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin (March 8, 2022) also discovered the dullest hobbies were seen to be religion, watching TV, bird watching and smoking. Boring people were also perceived to live in small cities and towns. Led by the Department of Psychology’s Dr Wijnand Van Tilburg, the research revealed that stereotypically boring people are generally avoided due to preconceptions. Van Tilburg explained: “The irony is studying boredom is actually very interesting and has many real-life impacts. Perceptions can change but people may not take time to speak to those with ‘boring’ jobs and hobbies, instead choosing to avoid them. They don’t get a chance to prove people wrong and break these negative stereotypes. It was interesting to me to see the study showed that boring people were not seen as very competent.” Dr Van Tilburg added: “The truth of the matter is people like bankers and accountants are highly capable and have power in society—perhaps we should try not to upset them and stereotype them as boring!” According the study, the top five most boring jobs are: Data Analysis, Accounting, Tax/Insurance, Banking, and Cleaning tasks. The top five most exciting jobs considered are: Performing Arts, Science, Journalism, Health/Medicine, and Teaching. —“Boring People: Stereotype Characteristics, Interpersonal Attributions, and Social Reactions” by Wijnand A. P. van Tilburg, 8 March 2022, published in Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin. Source: www.essex.ac.uk