Written by
Victoria Morrow
Directed by
Gregg Fineberg
Given the relative lack of major of events
in this episode, one could easily misconstrue that Complications (Formerly
Difficulties) is something of a bridge episode between the first and second
half of Season 2, something of a pause as Swearengen recovers from the enormity
of his medical crisis. But in actuality, there’s a fair amount going on, as
well as a chance to learn about some new characters, as well as follow up on
some of the new relationships.
Al is the midst of recovering from his
attack, even though he seems to have suffered a small stroke in doing so. Even
the Doc is impressed by his recovery, more so than he is. Naturally, he is less
concerned about his own well-being then what is going on in his absence – when
Dan tells him the story that Wu attempted to illustrate before the aborted
surgery, more as a joke than anything serious, his first reaction is tell
Johnny to check if there’s anything to it. It is clear that Swearengen
considers being an invalid the literal fate worse than death, which is a
ghastly irony considering how close that he came to dying. But true to form, he
tries to stay on top of the bigger events that are going on, and there are some
pretty big ones.
Commissioner Jarry finally gets around to
visiting the Pioneer, and gives a notice of claims that when Merrick
reads it; he manages to get a handle on just what might be going on. It is clear
that even at this early stage, he has been taking lessons from Swearengen,
because rather than put the message on the front page of the next paper; he
posts the entire message outside the paper. Leon then reports that the masses
have heard about it, and they are fucking riled.
Tolliver than goes out to try and calm the
mob, and it is here we get the clearest demonstration as just how inferior he
is to Swearengen, he is at crowd control. He spends several minutes trying to
ease everybody with the spiel that he has been using in the past, but then he
blunders as says that he’s talked to Jarry and he doesn’t seem like a bad
sort. The mob, led by Steve Fields, the
resident shit-stirrer in the camp then quickly converges on the Bella Union,
determined to take their rage out on Jarry.
Al, who even out of the action very
quickly can make connections, demands that Bullock show up immediately.
Bullock, who has been a little distracted with the last few days events, now
reveals that he is behind what is going on: “Bedridden, I know more than you”,
Al points out. Bullock doesn’t need much persuasion to head over to the Bella
Union, just when things are approaching a crisis point. The mob has surrounded
the cashier’s cage where Jarry is ‘protecting himself’; trying to admonish them
that he just represents ‘the future’. In one of the most telling exchanges in
the series history, Steve finishes a string of obscenities with: “Fuck the
future!” Even in his terror, Jarry makes a clear point. “You do not fuck the
future. The future fucks you.” Needless to say, this doesn’t assuage anybody,
and it is only after the intervention of Bullock that the mob calms – long
enough for Bullock to rescue Jarry, and take him into protective custody. Jarry
is decidedly ungrateful, so Bullock argues: “A beating short of murder might’ve
done you some good.” And it doesn’t quite calm the mob.
I must now make a delicate aside for the
introduction of another small but critical character to Deadwood. Even given the level of profanity, I am loathe to use the
moniker this character uses to describe himself, so for the purposes of this
guide, I shall refer to him as N. General Fields. Another one of the historical
personages, he seems capable of irritating everybody in the camp, including his
fellow traveler Hostettler, the owner of the livery, who seems very disturbed
with just how he handles his horses. The only character who seems to truly get
along with him well is Jane who, even in her state of inebriation, seems to
quickly take kindly to N. General and starts drinking with him. They have a
friendly, fairly drunken conversation for awhile – the discourse about Custer
is a highlight – but in the midst of their drinker, the mob is dissipating from
Jarry, and Fields, who knows far better than most just how dangerous they can
be, quickly flees. Steve tries to create a diversion, involving grabbing Fields
and threatening him so that they can get to Jarry. When someone politely points
out, they could just start shooting, Steve quickly says they’ll just kill
Fields. Fields then hides in Hostettler’s livery, and he doesn’t wait ten
seconds before giving him up to the mob. (He knows what’s coming, and is
writing his will beforehand.) The
appearance of Charlie manages to save him, and Bullock rescued him before he is
too badly hurt. Considering what has happened, Fields remarkably understands.
In the last scene of the episode, as Jane is tending to his wounds, he says:
“Tell Hostettler I’d have done what he did, only quicker.” The last shot of the
episode is of Hostettler in obvious anguish as Fields screams in pain.
While these major problems are unfolding,
two quieter problems are unfurling. Adams as
we saw in the last episode surrendered his room to Miss Isringhausen for the
night. As the two of them continue their discussion, Isringhausen begins to
show her true colors, blatantly seducing Adams ,
and as pillow talk, begins to casually go on with her suggestion that Miss
Garrett had her husband murdered, and that she believes she used Al Swearengen
as the instrument. While Adams doesn’t know
the full details of what happened, he surely knows enough that there is
something suspicious, and the trout in the milk comes when she tells him that
she wants to have a meeting with Swearengen. Silas recovers some of his
rationale now (to paraphrase a later term by Milch, he is ‘cuntstruck’), and
tells her: “Why do I think it’s lucky we never met across a poker table?” Nevertheless, when she pulls back her
nightgown, he returns like a fish to a worm.
The most significant event happens in the
first minutes of the episode, when we see Alma
vomiting into a basin. She is aware of what this portends, and then convinces Richardson to come with
her across the thoroughfare to see Trixie. For understandable reasons, Trixie
is short, and doesn’t seem particularly grateful to learn that Alma is expecting. Alma is afraid that
because of how she was born that childbirth could kill her, and no doubt wants
to see Trixie because of a way to handle it (the casual admission of Trixie
that ‘I’ve killed seven’ is one of the more quietly frightening, if realistic,
statement of the entire series). Trixie than goes directly to Doc, and decides
to chew him out for being so callous to Alma when she was kicking the laudanum
that she’s now afraid to see to her. Doc finds a pretext to see Alma, one she
quickly sees through, but after some mutual crankiness, they then have a very
civil conversation, in which Alma admits she does want a child, and Doc says that he can help her have one.
This actually leads to one of the more
touching scenes in the series, when Alma
returns to the Gem that night, and the two of them actually have a genuinely
civil conversation. Alma
tells her about her news, Trixie admits with a certain amount of pride that
she’s now working at Bullock’s hardware store, practicing accounts, and “she’s
fucking one of the owners.” Alma
says she’s glad for that and the two chuckle and share a cigarette. The
friendship between Alma and Trixie is quickly becoming one of the series
deepest, and it’s nearly as moving as what follows next, when Trixie goes to
the back, after Sol has revealed the sums she’s been working on, and they enjoy
a roll in the sack. To see that Trixie is on the verge of finding happiness and
independence is a remarkable statement for Deadwood
to try and make.
But in the doubling of Deadwood, there are far worse signs
afoot, mostly at the Chez Ami. Joanie goes to tend to Carrie, and find out what
the hell she and Wolcott were up to last night. She manages to hide whatever
concern she has. Doris , however, reveals what
is happening to Tolliver, and when he gets a full report of what Wolcott is
making the whores do, his reaction is not to consider the danger, but “Can I be
that fucking lucky?” He then spends much of his interactions with Wolcott
trying to subtly bait him, and it’s clear he’s trying to work things to some
kind of advantage. The same kind of blindness that failed him at controlling
the mob dulls his vision here; he doesn’t see the danger that we’ve seen in
Wolcott at the Chez Ami, he thinks he’s already invaluable and wants to make
sure he can secure his future position.
Swearengen and Bullock are both aware of
the outside consequences of what may come, and in their final interaction, Al
says that we gets better “I’ll pull my weight” It’s a measure of how much
circumstances have changes in just a few short days that Bullock looks at him,
and says: “Come to that, my money’d be on you.”
The
episode also has one of the callbacks when Wolcott reads the letter he ‘bought’
from Farnum when he came to town for Carrie, even though neither gives a damn
about Wild Bill Hickok. (It’s interesting that both of the characters Dilahunt
plays utterly disrespect the legend; Wolcott admonishes the man’s spelling.)
But when he reads the postscript to his
wife Agnes, there seems to be the briefest of moments when even a man who is
clearly revealing himself to be disturbed seems momentarily moved by the
poignancy of his love for her wife, as if its for something he can never – and
will never – have. It will eventually reach him, but by then, as is inevitably
the case in Deadwood, it will involve
more blood.
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