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coalescent2x01 'Los Moscos'
Written by Daniel Knauf
Directed by Jeremy Podeswa
2x02 'Alomogordo, NM'
Written by William Schmidt
Directed by Jack Bender
I have missed this show.
Carnivale is currently the only television show out there that really hits me, in that deep-down visceral way that you want a good drama to hit you. It's just started its second season, and it's more or less as brilliant as ever. It has a uniformly excellent cast; an evocative setting, and the routinely beautiful cinematography to capture that setting for the maximum effect; and a subtle understanding of fantasy that makes the stories it tells at once epic and intensely personal.
For those just coming in, Daniel Knauf's show is many things. It's a period piece, set in the 1930s. It's a travelogue: the titular carnival--full of the usual sideshow attractions of the time, a giant, a bearded lady, siamese twins, fortune tellers, psychics, strippers--is forever wending its way across the midwest dustbowl of 1930s America. It's a soap, following the lives and loves of the carnival folk. And it's a story, a grand myth about the battle between good and evil.
It's been compared to Twin Peaks, and there are similarities, but on the whole I think it's a comparison that misrepresents Carnivale. The show may be full of miracles and freaks, but it doesn't have the same sense of the absurd. Instead, it wallows in atmosphere. Carnivale's backdrop is one of melancholy passion and old-testament salvation and brimstone that, in tone at least, matches more closely with some of the small-town episodes of The X-Files. It's a dark show and, as mentioned, a beautiful one. From the tarot-twisting opening sequence through every last dust-choked, sepia-washed, immaculately detailed frame Carnivale is stunning to watch.
The first episode of the first season opens with a monologue that sets the tone for this part of the story:
This, then, is the end of the age of magic. The two main characters are, we suspect, the creature of light and the creature of darkness. Ben Hawkins (Nick Stahl) is picked up by the carnival after the death of his mother left him alone on their out of the way farm. Brother Justin Crowe (Clancy Brown) is a Methodist minister living with his sister in California. Ben can heal people, amongst other things. Brother Justin can see into peoples' souls ... amongst other things.
In hindsight, it's clear that the arc of the show's first season was Ben and Justin admitting to and coming to accept their powers. Both began to experience visions. Some of those visions were separate, some were shared; although the two have, thus far, not met in real life, they have met in dreams several times. 'The Day That Was The Day' was the end of this development: a powerful season finale that upended the lives and dreams of most of the show's large cast.
The season two premiere, 'Los Moscos', begins, as the first season did, with a monologue. But it then dives straight into the chaotic aftermath of the previous episode: Ben has killed the Professor. Sofie's trailer, with her and her mother inside, is ablaze. And Brother Justin is on the radio, thundering through a full blood-and-fire old testament sermon.
There are some early wobbles--in particular an overly talky scene between Ben and The Management which appears to explain much, and does so much more bluntly than is necessary--but mostly, this is a fine piece of work. Sofie's anguish at her mother's fate is heart-wrenching, and you have to wonder what effect the new emptiness in her head might have. Likewise, Ben's vision of the false sun over Trinity is stunning, and properly awe-inspiring. It also implies that we are watching a tragedy: Management says that Ben must break the chain of events leading to the vision, but we already know that he fails.
The second episode, 'Alomogordo NM' is less dramatic, and features a second sub-par scene with Management (it's the one aspect of the show that seems a bit hokey; well, I suppose it is just a voice behind a curtain), but finishes tying off threads from season one.
The show that's emerging in these two episode seems different to its predecessor: more dramatic, more dynamic. Ben and Justin are both far more active--both are actively seeking Henry Scudder, the previous generation's creature of darkness (or light)--and the result is that there's more plot in these two episodes than in most of the first season put together. And yet, with the exception of the Management-related stumbles mentioned above, this is all achieved without sacrificing the essential feel of the show. Carnivale remains unafraid to give the major story beats--and even many of the minor beats--the weight and time they really need.
The show also seems to have a new clarity about it. Consider Samson's new opening narration:
When you take this with Management's conversation with Ben, it seems to paint a fairly clear picture of who the creatures of light and dark are, both for this generation and the previous generation. Of course there's difficulty, because there are multiple other titles thrown around within the show: the prince, the prophet, the usher.
Anyway: we know Scudder fled the war; we know Management, the Russian, is diminished by his wounds, and stalking Scudder; we know he has turned to Ben for help. So: the Russian and Ben are creatures of light, and Scudder and Justin are creatures of darkness (interesting that Scudder is Ben's father, and the Russian is Justin's father). In support of this, we also have book-guy's messages to Justin: "by the hand of the prince the prophet dies // upon his death, the prince shall rise," he tells him, and then follows up by saying that if Justin kills Scudder he will become 'the prophet. The usher.' Lastly, towards the end of season one, Lodz referred to Management 'my prince.'
So far so consistent. There are three interesting things that follow from this.
The first is a question of nature. From everything we've been told, these four characters are creatures of darkness and light; they have no say in the matter. Even when Scudder attempts to renounce his destiny, his existence brings evil, 'corrupting the spirit of the land' (and, one assumes, creating the dustbowl). What does it mean, if you realise you are only a powerless player on a stage?
The second is a question of meaning. Thinking of Ben as the good guy is easy: he's sympathetically portrayed, and we're told that it's his destiny to break the chain that leads to the A-bomb. But there's a lot about inversions of darkness and light in Carnivale, from that false sun over trinity to Management's assertion that light comes out of darkness. In this reading, the 'creature of light' could be, from our perspective, the bad guy: the one that hastens the advent of the false sun. But then again, if you take the position that the dawning of the Age of Reason is a good thing, the creature of light could bring about the A-bomb and still be the good guy.
Then too, Ben has killed a man. Yes, that man was a murderer, and yes, he was doing it to save the life of another ... but he's still killed. Justin hasn't. And for all his posturing and arrogance, he hasn't actually done anything that evil yet, even. He's not struggling against his nature, the way he did in season one (and the way Scudder presumably continues to do), and he may be starting to think of 'his work' rather than 'god's work', but it's still good work ... at least for now.
The final mystery surrounds Sofie. The fire in Sofie's trailer started because her mother, horrified at what she believed her daughter to be, was trying to kill her. In 2x02, we get a clue as to what she might have been thinking, when Ben sees the tattooed man--the usher of destruction--in Sofie's place. How this fits in with Justin killing Scudder and becoming the usher isn't clear.
Daniel Knauf has apparently said that Carnivale does have an ending; that the story will take at least three, but less than six, seasons to tell. Let's face it, every tv show creator says that at some point: so far, though, I've still got faith in this one.
Roll on episode three.
Written by Daniel Knauf
Directed by Jeremy Podeswa
2x02 'Alomogordo, NM'
Written by William Schmidt
Directed by Jack Bender
I have missed this show.
Carnivale is currently the only television show out there that really hits me, in that deep-down visceral way that you want a good drama to hit you. It's just started its second season, and it's more or less as brilliant as ever. It has a uniformly excellent cast; an evocative setting, and the routinely beautiful cinematography to capture that setting for the maximum effect; and a subtle understanding of fantasy that makes the stories it tells at once epic and intensely personal.
For those just coming in, Daniel Knauf's show is many things. It's a period piece, set in the 1930s. It's a travelogue: the titular carnival--full of the usual sideshow attractions of the time, a giant, a bearded lady, siamese twins, fortune tellers, psychics, strippers--is forever wending its way across the midwest dustbowl of 1930s America. It's a soap, following the lives and loves of the carnival folk. And it's a story, a grand myth about the battle between good and evil.
It's been compared to Twin Peaks, and there are similarities, but on the whole I think it's a comparison that misrepresents Carnivale. The show may be full of miracles and freaks, but it doesn't have the same sense of the absurd. Instead, it wallows in atmosphere. Carnivale's backdrop is one of melancholy passion and old-testament salvation and brimstone that, in tone at least, matches more closely with some of the small-town episodes of The X-Files. It's a dark show and, as mentioned, a beautiful one. From the tarot-twisting opening sequence through every last dust-choked, sepia-washed, immaculately detailed frame Carnivale is stunning to watch.
The first episode of the first season opens with a monologue that sets the tone for this part of the story:
Before the beginning, after the great war between heaven and hell, God created the earth, and gave dominion over it to the crafty ape he called man. And to each generation was born a creature of light and a creature of darkness.
And great armies clashed by night in the ancient war between good and evil. There was magic then, nobility, and unimaginable cruelty. And so it was until the day that a false sun exploded over Trinity, and man forever traded away wonder for reason.
This, then, is the end of the age of magic. The two main characters are, we suspect, the creature of light and the creature of darkness. Ben Hawkins (Nick Stahl) is picked up by the carnival after the death of his mother left him alone on their out of the way farm. Brother Justin Crowe (Clancy Brown) is a Methodist minister living with his sister in California. Ben can heal people, amongst other things. Brother Justin can see into peoples' souls ... amongst other things.
In hindsight, it's clear that the arc of the show's first season was Ben and Justin admitting to and coming to accept their powers. Both began to experience visions. Some of those visions were separate, some were shared; although the two have, thus far, not met in real life, they have met in dreams several times. 'The Day That Was The Day' was the end of this development: a powerful season finale that upended the lives and dreams of most of the show's large cast.
The season two premiere, 'Los Moscos', begins, as the first season did, with a monologue. But it then dives straight into the chaotic aftermath of the previous episode: Ben has killed the Professor. Sofie's trailer, with her and her mother inside, is ablaze. And Brother Justin is on the radio, thundering through a full blood-and-fire old testament sermon.
There are some early wobbles--in particular an overly talky scene between Ben and The Management which appears to explain much, and does so much more bluntly than is necessary--but mostly, this is a fine piece of work. Sofie's anguish at her mother's fate is heart-wrenching, and you have to wonder what effect the new emptiness in her head might have. Likewise, Ben's vision of the false sun over Trinity is stunning, and properly awe-inspiring. It also implies that we are watching a tragedy: Management says that Ben must break the chain of events leading to the vision, but we already know that he fails.
The second episode, 'Alomogordo NM' is less dramatic, and features a second sub-par scene with Management (it's the one aspect of the show that seems a bit hokey; well, I suppose it is just a voice behind a curtain), but finishes tying off threads from season one.
The show that's emerging in these two episode seems different to its predecessor: more dramatic, more dynamic. Ben and Justin are both far more active--both are actively seeking Henry Scudder, the previous generation's creature of darkness (or light)--and the result is that there's more plot in these two episodes than in most of the first season put together. And yet, with the exception of the Management-related stumbles mentioned above, this is all achieved without sacrificing the essential feel of the show. Carnivale remains unafraid to give the major story beats--and even many of the minor beats--the weight and time they really need.
The show also seems to have a new clarity about it. Consider Samson's new opening narration:
On the heels of the skirmish man foolishly called 'the war to end all wars,' the dark one sought to elude his destiny, and live as a mortal. So he fled across the ocean to the empire called America. But by his mere presence, a cancer corrupted the spirit of the land. People were rendered mute, by fools who spoke many words who said nothing. For whom oppression and cowardice were virtues ... and freedom, an obscenity. And into this dark heartland, a prophet stalked his enemy. Until, diminished by his wounds, he turned to the next in the ancient line of light. And so it was that the fate of mankind came to rest on the trembling shoulders of the most reluctant of saviours ...
When you take this with Management's conversation with Ben, it seems to paint a fairly clear picture of who the creatures of light and dark are, both for this generation and the previous generation. Of course there's difficulty, because there are multiple other titles thrown around within the show: the prince, the prophet, the usher.
Anyway: we know Scudder fled the war; we know Management, the Russian, is diminished by his wounds, and stalking Scudder; we know he has turned to Ben for help. So: the Russian and Ben are creatures of light, and Scudder and Justin are creatures of darkness (interesting that Scudder is Ben's father, and the Russian is Justin's father). In support of this, we also have book-guy's messages to Justin: "by the hand of the prince the prophet dies // upon his death, the prince shall rise," he tells him, and then follows up by saying that if Justin kills Scudder he will become 'the prophet. The usher.' Lastly, towards the end of season one, Lodz referred to Management 'my prince.'
So far so consistent. There are three interesting things that follow from this.
The first is a question of nature. From everything we've been told, these four characters are creatures of darkness and light; they have no say in the matter. Even when Scudder attempts to renounce his destiny, his existence brings evil, 'corrupting the spirit of the land' (and, one assumes, creating the dustbowl). What does it mean, if you realise you are only a powerless player on a stage?
The second is a question of meaning. Thinking of Ben as the good guy is easy: he's sympathetically portrayed, and we're told that it's his destiny to break the chain that leads to the A-bomb. But there's a lot about inversions of darkness and light in Carnivale, from that false sun over trinity to Management's assertion that light comes out of darkness. In this reading, the 'creature of light' could be, from our perspective, the bad guy: the one that hastens the advent of the false sun. But then again, if you take the position that the dawning of the Age of Reason is a good thing, the creature of light could bring about the A-bomb and still be the good guy.
Then too, Ben has killed a man. Yes, that man was a murderer, and yes, he was doing it to save the life of another ... but he's still killed. Justin hasn't. And for all his posturing and arrogance, he hasn't actually done anything that evil yet, even. He's not struggling against his nature, the way he did in season one (and the way Scudder presumably continues to do), and he may be starting to think of 'his work' rather than 'god's work', but it's still good work ... at least for now.
The final mystery surrounds Sofie. The fire in Sofie's trailer started because her mother, horrified at what she believed her daughter to be, was trying to kill her. In 2x02, we get a clue as to what she might have been thinking, when Ben sees the tattooed man--the usher of destruction--in Sofie's place. How this fits in with Justin killing Scudder and becoming the usher isn't clear.
Daniel Knauf has apparently said that Carnivale does have an ending; that the story will take at least three, but less than six, seasons to tell. Let's face it, every tv show creator says that at some point: so far, though, I've still got faith in this one.
Roll on episode three.
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no subject
Date: 2005-01-19 08:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-19 09:17 pm (UTC)The most common description I hear of it is 'The Grapes of Wrath meets Twin Peaks', but since I've never read Grapes I can't really speak to how accurate that is.
It's developing an interesting feeling of being a fantasy of America, though, in the same way that, say, Strange & Norrell is a fantasy of England.
no subject
Date: 2005-01-19 09:22 pm (UTC)Your analysis
Date: 2005-01-24 10:19 pm (UTC)Thanks
Re: Your analysis
Date: 2005-02-01 07:10 pm (UTC)Really great summaries! I love this show.