The Byrde family wants out of the money laundering business once and for all. Viewers of Netflix’s “Ozark” have heard this before, as it’s an oft-repeated refrain that’s carried cutthroat married couple Wendy (Laura Linney) and Marty (Jason Bateman) and their two kids through all four seasons of the popular crime series. In the show’s final seven episodes, though, their sometimes-hollow words start to ring true. This is their last chance, a mad dash for a happy ending, and “Ozark” executes a tricky conclusion that makes us feel every moment of it.
“Ozark” started careening into its endgame earlier this year, with a stretch of episodes that ended with backwoods businesswoman Ruth (Julia Garner) discovering the body of her closest relative, cousin Wyatt (Charlie Tahan). Wyatt was unceremoniously executed alongside drug dealer Darlene (Lisa Emery) at the hands of up-and-coming cartel kingpin Javi (Alfonso Herrera), and the mid-season cliffhanger ended with a shattered, furious Ruth promising vengeance. It was “Ozark” at its most intense, and the show carries that savage momentum into its final hours.
READ MORE: ‘Ozark’ Season 4 Review: The Byrde Family’s Deal With The Devil Has No Point Of Return
Marty and Wendy may want out, but the bad blood between Javi and Ruth immediately launches them back into defense mode. The FBI, multiple factions of the cartel, and private investigator Mel Sattern (Adam Rothenberg) all circle around them like hungry sharks waiting to rip in at any sign of weakness. Among the school of sharp-toothed adversaries is Wendy’s own father, Nathan (Richard Thomas), who arrives in town with his watchful eye on the Byrde children, Jonah (Skylar Gaertner) and Charlotte (Sofia Hublitz).
Over its four seasons, Wendy has evolved into one of the show’s most interesting villains. Linney has played her well, injecting unnerving cold-blooded calm into every threat and promise, and this season is no exception. “Ozark” has already taken her character far down the Lady MacBeth route, but its final arc makes the bold decision not to further ennoble her evil, but to explain it.
The greatest strength of these last episodes lies, surprisingly, not in their twists and turns but in their emotional payoff. As Wendy and her father butt heads, viewers learn more about their relationship with one another and with her sweet, bipolar late brother Ben (Tom Pelphrey). Linney pivots away from the ice queen role and into uncharted territory with grace, shepherding audiences into an unexpected but believable character arc.
The final season of “Ozark” is full of ghosts, and they all deepen the show’s plot-heavy story tremendously. While Wendy grapples with her own demons, Ruth gets lost in memories of a time before her family was dead, and fantasies of a time after all the bloodshed will be over. Even Marty, the show’s ostensible protagonist who’s recently become so bloodless as to seem boring, starts to wonder about the bigger picture of death and forgiveness. He meets a cartel priest who asks him if he can love unconditionally. “I’m not sure that’s the smartest thing to do,” he answers.
Ruth, Marty, and Wendy are the show’s trifecta of power players, and while the season relies on the same ever-shifting allegiances it’s always used to further the plot, they actually seem to mean something this time around. The show’s endless power plays can sometimes be exhausting, but with its finale looming, the show lends new weight to every broken promise and ballsy deal. Disparate characters get pulled into the fray, too, as writers seem eager to find any excuse possible to give each member of the show’s sprawling ensemble a proper send-off. In a series that’s built its thrills on unfulfilled threats and perfectly timed saves that have always allowed most major characters to live another day, no one is untouchable now.
On a basic plot level, parts of the final season of “Ozark” are disappointing. The show seems to revert back to its penchant for shallow twists of fate in the eleventh hour, and it doles out some of its characters’ conclusions rather arbitrarily. Yet on an emotional level, the show has never been better. It doesn’t continue its mostly-detached wheel-of-fortune method of storytelling, but instead makes audiences confront the hope, fear, guilt, and shame that propel each character into their present situations.
“Ozark” has never earned its comparison to “Breaking Bad,” and indeed, the final season remains mostly visually unambitious. But in its last arc, the team behind the show finally seems to be reaching for an emotional pitch to match other great modern-day crime shows, with surprisingly good results. Garner, long-since the series standout, embodies Ruth with more purpose than ever before, as the fiery young woman who’s been frequently sidelined refuses to be ignored. Even at its most rote points, Garner’s sympathetic character anchored the series, and now, she confidently ushers it into its endgame.
Although some of its narrative choices will surely divide audiences, the show’s final run of episodes is among the series’ strongest. “Ozark” course-corrects much of what made the first half of the season frustrating, and, with nothing left to lose, it pulls out all the narrative stops. The series has at times been prone to repetition, and at its worst, it feels like an endless parade of contract negotiations among criminal enterprises punctuated by the occasional sudden gunshot to the head. Not this time. The quality contrast between the final arc of “Ozark” and some that came before is so vast, it’s like the writers were keeping every ace up their sleeves until the last possible moment. Even so, the show’s final season is a surprisingly rich viewing experience, and an assured end to a series that never stopped upping the ante. [B+]
