“The Whores Can Come” (S2, Ep11)
In order to survive this world, most all are guilty of the same crime; people make maps out of meaning. People cling to, and convince themselves, of self-centered concepts, forming applicable symbols of piety, lies that can be agreed upon – ideas like Manifest Destiny – then pray that others’ will not refute such tall tales. A funeral acts as a similar kind of assurance. The afterlife is yet another lie we’ve all agreed upon. I don’t believe it’s hyperbolic to say that William Bullock’s funeral is one of the saddest scenes I’ve ever seen. It’s wrenching and unexpected in a way that only mourning could illuminate. Many have pointed out the significance of “Deadwood’s funeral sequences. It’s arguable that they represent far more than but one soul passing. In Milch’s series, a coffin being buried embodies an entire mythic concept being laid to rest. In this mining town, hope is an invisible message, as Al would say. Unless, of course, you own both the telephone company and the railroad. Like a certain man, whom our fair citizens will be introduced to, very soon.
“Boy the Earth Talks To” (S2, Ep 12)
It’s easy to assume that the title of the Season 2 finale, “Boy the Earth Talks To,” is another reference to the death of young William, but it is actually a nickname that has been bestowed upon the great George Hearst (Gerald McRaney) – a gluttonous compatriot who arrives in town and immediately starts knocking literal walls down. Al has seen this coming all season long. How? By paying close attention to what’s been going on in Chinatown (which is really just an alley, at this point). In a prior episode, Mr. Wu expresses great anxieties to Al, about Mr. Lee (Philip Moon), the new “cocksucker from San Francisco,” who speaks English well. The war for Chinatown finally crescendos in these final 2 episodes. With assistance from his lackey, Francis Wolcott, (Garret Dillahunt’s second “Deadwood” performance) Hearst has been hiring Chinese immigrants willing to work for cheaper wages, increasingly. Lee begins killing, and burning the dead bodies of Wu’s workers, trying to squeeze him out – not being returned to the Mainland, their souls will never rest, according to Chinese tradition. Wu demands retribution. Al refuses, playing a long game. In an intense scene, the former head of Deadwood’s Chinatown is humiliated in front of Hearst, Al grabbing his business partner, fiercely, by the braid. It’s all a theater show, though. By emasculating his friend, in front of his newfound enemy, the pair of businessmen convince a man, with far greater power than them, that they pose no threat to him. And it actually works. Hearst agrees to a deal with Wu, arranging to bring in his laborers, in place of Lee’s, which means Al’s buddy finally gets to cut the throat of his rival alley boss, avenging the butchered afterlife ritual of his fellow immigrants. “Boy the Earth Talks To” is a tremendous hour of television, and just about as fulfilling a season finale that any show could possibly hope for, something the series’ final chapter was once lacking.
“A Constant Throb” (S3, Ep 10)
“My god… My goodness, I believe someone’s shooting at the former tenant.” One of the things “Deadwood” does better than almost any other show is ensure the writing is always doing multiple things at once. The attempting shooting of Alma Ellsworth (Molly Parker) by the coward George Hearst is, simultaneously, utterly frightening and eerily cathartic. There’s something awe-inspiring about watching Al Swearengen leap off his balcony, frantically coming to the aid of a woman he was obsessed with swindling, back in the first season. And he’s not the only one, the whole town does. This is how we know the stakes are truly raised. Trixie’s (Paula Malcolmson) impulsive and heroic reaction has an adverse ripple effect that bleeds into the encroaching finale. In many ways, the unity that arises in the face of danger to Deadwood’s self-built society accomplishes the inverse of what a series akin to “Breaking Bad” is aiming to. What once was but a profane and putrid look at U.S. history, evolved into something deeper, a series about how a town’s darkest secrets and all of its citizens, could grow, change and come together in the face of adversity. You, at once, feel both horror and hope when Charlie Utter shouts: “Make yourself small, Mrs. Ellsworth!” And you can’t help but want to slap stupid E.B. (William Sanderson) when he remarks on Trixie’s bare-chested presence. Another layer, on top of George Hearst’s heartless professing, is the pure abhorrence his corrupt breakfast companion expresses, knowing his employer not only posturing, but portending what might happen if his wishes are not specifically adhered to. It’s Hearts’ way or the highway. Too bad he picked a fight with a town that knows how to play dirty in a street fight.
