In the Flesh - Recap: Til Death
Recap and review of In the Flesh - Series 1 Episode 2:
I talked a bit in my last review about how a zombie story tends to have an element of subtext that makes the narrative about more than just zombies. However, while the subtext was relatively subtle in the premiere, it becomes much more overt in this second episode. Initially, one could read In the Flesh as a parable about the pitfalls of racism or gay panic, among many other possible interpretations. Sure, there are still undercurrents of racist allegory here, but this episode more concretely makes the connection to homophobia in a way the premiere didn't. I'm not entirely sure if this is an avenue that will be as powerful as, say, a subtler approach to the thematic underpinnings. I'll have to wait until tomorrow night's finale to see how it all comes together; but, as it stands right now, In the Flesh remains compelling at a basic storytelling level. It's well-acted, well-written, and excellently paced for a series that only has three episodes to tell its story. To its credit, the show provides viewers a lot to get invested in, from the relationship between Kieren (Luke Newberry) and Rick (David Walmsley), to the off-beat quirkiness of Kieren's former partner-in-cannibalism, Amy (Emily Bevan). Even the complicated nature of Rick's father, Bill (Steve Evets), makes for some truly engaging television, as the HVF leader proves himself to be the story's biggest hypocrite. There's a lot to keep up with, but it's a story that's irresistible, in a lot of ways. The notion of reintroducing the rehabilitated undead into society is a wonderful premise, and the show doesn't waste a single ounce of that premise, even if the premise itself can come across as a bit of a heavy-handed allegory, at times.
Credit: BBC
On a whim, Kieren decides to take advantage of no one being home. He throws on a hoodie and sneaks out, footing it to the cemetery where he'd been buried, perhaps compelled by his father's evasiveness when Kieren asked him why he ignored his request to be cremated. Throughout the episode, Kieren is haunted by the image of the last person he killed, in addition to recurring flashbacks to the night he awoke in his casket and rose from his grave. Taken in isolation, these elements are intriguing, though they don't get much elaboration within the story, mainly because no one else is interested in these things but Kieren. No one asks him about the people he killed while in his zombified state, nor does anyone ask what it was like to rise from the dead. However, he does get asked several intriguing questions by Amy, his former zombie hunting partner, who recognizes him in the cemetery while visiting her own gravesite.
Amy is sort of like an undead Zooey Deschanel, a person stuffed to the brim with vibrancy and quirk, who never takes into consideration how uncomfortable she's making everyone, such as when she explains the processes of her ruined digestive system to Kieren's parents in the middle of dinner. It would be easy for a character like this to get annoying, but I felt Emily Bevan did a great job pulling off the balancing act between making her obnoxious but also endearing. It helps that the character has considerable complexity to her. Amy feels no remorse for what she did in her altered state, and is instead simply happy to get a second chance at life because, unlike Kieren, hers was taken away from her before she was ready. As a victim of leukemia, Amy recalls her final thought before dying, reflecting on how unfair it was that she hardly got to live much of a life at all. It's a magnificent scene, as Amy unbuttons her blouse to reveal the scars of her illness, opening up to Kieren in both the literal and figurative sense. However, the scene becomes all the more poignant once Kieren shows Amy his own scars wrist, and we see the deep gashes on Kieren's wrists. Her tearful embrace, as much to comfort herself as to comfort a distraught Kieren, is a tremendous moment for Bevan, who leaves an indelible impression.
Credit: BBC
Of course, though Kieren has made a new PDS friend, he remains unaware that his oldest friend, thought dead, has returned to Roarton. The matter-of-fact way in which Bill announces that Rick is returning, at a memorial service for those who died in the undead uprising, no less, really sets the tone for the storyline. Yes, Rick is home. But it's apparent that neither Bill nor anyone else in town is going to address the fact that Rick is a "Rotter," although whispers abound among HVF militiamen, as some speculate that Bill will put a bullet in his son's head on principle alone. Naturally, this doesn't happen. Bill continues in his undead-hating ways, all while ignoring that his son suffers from PDS, and expecting the full support of the town regardless. Rick is uneasy the entire episode, as he seems uncertain just how to acclimate to his father's sense of denial, nor does he really know how to act around town. He's a war hero, but he's hesitant to display his medal until his father, offering Rick a beer, encourages him to never be ashamed of showing his pride. Of course, Rick neglects to tell his father that drinking makes PDS-sufferers violently ill. He simply does his duty in maintaining the illusion that he's as alive now as he was when he left to do his duty for his country.
Credit: BBC
Rick's emotional unease is exacerbated by his thinking that Kieren is dead. Bill nonchalantly breaks the news that Kieren killed himself not long before the uprising (neglecting to note the proximity between Rick's death and Kieren's decision to kill himself, for fear of what it might say about the true nature of the boys' relationship). Thus, Rick goes along with Bill parading him around town as a war hero, and desperately trying to assert that Rick is 100% normal, despite the road map of stitches on his face where the IED blew his head to pieces.
Kieren eventually learns from Jem (Harriet Cains) that Rick is back, and goes to the pub with Amy to find him. The reunion is one of the best scenes of the episode, very understated. It's a simple handshake, with both men beaming relieved smiles from behind tearful eyes. The two friends catch up while Amy cracks wise with the HVF militiamen who are giving her the stink eye. It's a scene that helps to flesh out this world, and the fearful climate of paranoia that pervades it, as everyone in the pub can do little else but stare at Kieren, Amy and Rick, who'd insisted that they be allowed to sit in the pub proper, and not in a segregated section in the back, per pub rules. Racial allegory notwithstanding, the scene is a light touch in an episode with heavy-handed elements, as the tone quickly turns once news breaks of rabid "Rotters" having been spotted in the woods.
The revelation that Rick is a self-hating PDS sufferer feels both inevitable yet all too sudden. The foundation had been laid for this development, yet it comes too soon to really feel like an organic part of Rick's character, since he'd just argued against anti-PDS attitudes in the pub. That said, at least the change in Rick's character is set up by the argument he and Kieren have in Bill's truck prior to venturing out into the woods. Rick demands to know what could possibly have compelled Kieren to kill himself. Kieren reveals that "the world went to s***" once he learned Rick had died, yet Rick refuses to let Kieren put this all on him. Kieren, however, lashes out at Rick for never saying a proper goodbye. All they did was get drunk, smoke a few cigarettes and fool around a bit. Next thing Kieren knew, Rick had left for basic training, and all attempts to reach him failed (although Rick honestly swears he never got any of Kieren's letters). The confirmation of their past sexual exploration paints the subtextual nature of PDS in a clearer light, as one could read that Rick hates his sexuality and the conflict it's created with his father every bit as much as he hates his PDS affliction. Earlier in the episode, Kieren had read an old letter of Rick's, apologizing for how his dad flipped out about something they'd done. Later, Bill doesn't show much regard for Kieren or the Walker family, implying that Kieren's suicide wasn't really a surprise since he was always messed up in the head. It would be easy to gather that Bill caught Rick and Kieren fooling around once, and decided it was easier to blame the Walker boy than his own. However, this is just extrapolation from what we've seen. For his part, Rick breaks down at Kieren's admission of why he killed himself, and it's equal parts grief, guilt, sadness and rage, as he beats his fists against the dashboard of the truck.
It's at this point that Rick begins to embody his self-hatred, as he spots the two rabid "Rotters," an adult and a small girl, and radios his father. Kieren tries to dissuade Rick from killing the PDS-sufferers, but Rick insists that the creatures are evil and disgusting. Bill eggs his son on, telling him to shoot the "Rotters" and have it over with. This leads to a standoff between Kieren and Rick, who has his rifle drawn, sights set on the defenseless "Rotters." Kieren stands between Rick and the "Rotters," and argues that the duo is just like they are. Rick refuses to acknowledge the similarities, but Kieren removes his contacts to reveal his dead eyes, insisting that if Rick is going to shoot the "Rotters," Rick will have to shoot him as well. Rick stands down, at which point Bill steps in to finish the job. However, Bill's gun jams, and before one of the other HVF militiamen can offer Bill one of theirs, Kieren makes the argument that the "Rotters" are worth more alive than dead. The government offers a larger reward for live, unharmed "Rotters," and it's with this logic that Kieren turns the tide of opinion against Rick and Bill. The decision is made to spare the "Rotters," and although Kieren has saved the day for the helpless "Rotters," Rick's self-hating nature is yet to be reconciled.
Credit: BBC
In the Flesh continues to be damn good television, and I'm anxious to see how it all ends. The narrative continues to lean hard on its allegorical trappings, yet the story on the surface is so compelling that the occasionally heavy-handed nature of its themes are easy to swallow. This is a series that offers one of the more gripping depictions of the undead genre in recent memory, and I suspect that the show will only continue to grow more nuanced and complex as we venture deeper into this world, and the implications of its skewed morality.
