It's Memorial Day in Atlantic City, and Nucky and Jimmy engage in a little political gamesmanship, before Jimmy retires to a meeting with Eli and the town elders. While Jimmy is dancing as fast as he can to keep them from finding out about the Commodore's state, one particularly ornery old coot whacks Jimmy in the head with a cane, drawing blood. Networking is awful, you guys.
Meanwhile, Nucky has Attorney General Harry in town, along with the federal prosecutor who's supposedly going to be prosecuting Nucky's case. They make a handshake deal that Nucky's case, after going through some motions, will ultimately get dismissed. No guarantees, which Nucky doesn't love, but by the end of the night, the two men are getting hummers in Nucky's parlor, so...
Eli sees which way the wind is blowing with the Commodore out of commission, so he goes to Nucky and ends up begging -- crying, even -- him to take him back. He even admits that the Commodore has stroked out. Nucky toys with his brother before telling him to kiss his ass (his feet, really, but whatever). One fistfight later, and Margaret has to send Eli packing at the end of a shotgun. Later, Eli is drowning his sorrows when George, one of the ward bosses, comes to him with the rumor (possibly spread by Nucky) that the Commodore is a vegetable. Eli denies unconvincingly, then panics and ends up -- oops! -- killing George with a wrench.
With the holiday getting Harrow down, he takes a day to go out hunting... and to arrange a quiet suicide for himself. He nearly pulls the trigger before he's interrupted by a dog, who steals his mask. Harrow follows the dog to a pair of grizzled huntin' folk who I guess talk him into living? When he comes home, Jimmy assures him that he's got his back, and later, the two pay a visit to the old coot who brained Jimmy and fucking SCALP him.
And just to even up the numbers in the storylines that ended in sex and the storylines that ended in grisly violence and murder, we learn that Katy and Sleater are knockin' BOOTS.
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It's Memorial Day in Atlantic City, the kickoff of the lucrative tourist season. Nucky Thompson, one of the men that hope to remain in power so he can reap those tourist dollars, stands on a stage erected on the beach speaking to the gathered citizenry. It's the usual Memorial Day platitudes, though the sentiment that "Atlantic City was built to help people forget," seems a wee bit heavy-handed for this show. It's interesting to see Civil War uniforms among the veterans. There are still another few decades before the WWII generation would come to define "veterans" in the American imagination. Nucky thanks the members of the Memorial Committee, a lineup of graybeards, ear horn-users, the wheelchair-bound, and of course Uncle Junior Muttonchops. Nucky mentions that "our own beloved Commodore" has pressing business elsewhere, or else he'd be here. "He truly is this city's doting father," says Nucky, the words likely feeling like ashes in his mouth. He also acknowledges Attorney General Harry Daugherty in the crowd. Eli tosses a look to George O'Neil, one of the ward bosses, obviously concerned that Nucky's pal the AG might muck up their plans to toss Nucky in prison. Nucky then unexpectedly calls Jimmy up to the podium, referring to him as "a person who can speak more directly to the ideals of sacrifice, service, and loyalty." This is a surprise to Angela... and to Jimmy. He lopes up to the stage and mumble-mouths to Nucky, "Think I can't play this game?" Nucky: "I don't think you even know the rules." At the podium, Jimmy's hand shakes and he hesitates for a while. "I'm no one's idea of a hero," he begins, "least of all mine." He says that in the war they fought for democracy, for their mothers, sons, wives, for America. "I believe it was worth it." Nucky grouses as the line draws applause. Jimmy then holds up the list of names -- the fallen being memorialized -- and begins to read them.
While Jimmy reads the names, Richard Harrow sits in his apartment and looks at the pages of his scrapbook of happy families. Angela's sketch of him is in there, across from a photograph of him before his face was maimed. He packs up a lunch, sheaths his knife, packs his rifle, and heads out.
In the locker room at the country club, Nucky, Daugherty, and Daugherty's second in command are bantering around. Nucky is going on and on about how Jimmy's not all that, how he only went into service because he couldn't hack it at Princeton, and how he thinks the world owes him something. Daugherty isn't at all interested. He tells Nucky that he's come all this way to discuss a deal to get Nucky off the hook, but they'll talk about that tonight. For now, he just wants to play some golf. Nucky's like, "You actually enjoy golfing, huh?" The things Nucky does for politics. After Daugherty leaves, his second approaches Nucky about George Remus and asks him to put in a word for him to let Remus know he's open for business, essentially. Okay, file that one away, then.
In a fancy, ornate parlor that is not the Commodore's, the Elders meet with Jimmy and Eli, and they're alternately approving of Jimmy's respectful speech and cranky at the current state of business. One particularly ornery, wheelchair-bound bastard named Jackson Parkhurst growls, "Nothing cheaper than sentiment!" He brags of his armed service with the cavalry and speaks with boastful pride of massacring 2,000 Sioux. "Cut those painted bucks to red ribbons," he laughs. "A slaughter," Jimmy says, without a trace of admiration in his voice. Parkhurst says that's all it ever is. Uncle June notes that Parkhust came out of the last war pretty flush. He says he cleared a cool million selling chipped beef to the army and he doesn't care who knows it. "Smart bet there, sir," says Eli, ever the sycophant. "Seized an opportunity!" Jimmy scoffs that he had some of that chipped beef and would have rather eaten dog turds. Parkhurst sniffs that he got paid anyway, "as you can see." He holds his arms out to his palatial manse. Jimmy says this must make him a great man, then. Parkhurst's attitude quickly turns to bile. The men start taking turns chiming in about the "recent setbacks," most notably the $70 grand that was lost in Mickey Doyle's warehouse explosion. They've yet to see a dime back from their investment, and they're particularly peeved that they're speaking to Jimmy right now and not his father. Jimmy and Eli try to reassure them, saying Jimmy has the Commodore's complete authority. Parkhurst says he never heard him say that. Ear Horn Guy gets right to it: "Is he dead or just dying?" Jimmy scrambles. "You're trying to diddle the wrong men," one elder says. Jimmy: "What, are you going to drum me out of your little yacht club." Faster than a man that old has any right to be, Parkhust swings his cane and strikes Jimmy square on the forehead. Hard. The men in the room all gasp and sit back in their seats. "It's high time you and your whole goddamn generation learned something about respect," he snarls. Generational tensions! Not just for baby boomers anymore! Jimmy doesn't respond with violence in kind. He just gets up, tells Parkhurst "You just taught me plenty," and takes off.
Eli follows him out, pissed as hell. Jimmy's not interested in going back. Fuck these people! These people, Eli basically says, hold all the power. Jimmy says he doesn't need them, but Eli says that's not his call. "I brought you in on this!" he yells. Jimmy touches at the blood tricking down his head and says thanks for that. And stay the fuck out of his business. Jimmy stomps off. Eli Thompson: the portrait of buyer's remorse.
After hitching a ride, Harrow gets dropped off in the middle of the woods. Time for some nice, relaxing hunting, maybe? It's a misty, gray day, and Harrow is alone with nothing but animal sounds around him. You can see how that might appeal to him. He spots a pheasant across a clearing, but he doesn't shoot it. Just kind of regards it in that way he does most people.
Gillian tends to Jimmy's wound, creepily mothering him while prodding him for information on the elders. She refers to Parkhurst as "Jackson," which makes Jimmy ask how well she knows them. She looks at the floor, answering all sorts of questions. "No one is allowed to do this to you," she commands. It's both a mother's protective battle cry AND an instruction for how Jimmy is to behave now that he's in charge. Jimmy says he's into them for $70 grand, plus Horvitz keeps pressing him for his liquor. That warehouse bombing really changed the dynamics is the AC situation, huh? Once flush, now they can't supply their orders. Gillian says none of that matters as much as making it clear that he will not be disrespected. Jimmy finally is like, "All right, Ma." Gillian's like, "All right, leave me alone? Or all right, I understand what needs to be done?" Jimmy thinks on it a minute, then says, "Both." She then starts talking about John D. Rockefeller, how he grew up on a farm, under an awful bigamist father and a saintly mother. Now he's worth a billion dollars. So, you know. No pressure! She shares her cigarette with Jimmy, and again, the intimacy is unsettling.
Back in the woods with Richard, we're miles away from any other people, so he can remove his mask and eat lunch in whatever unsightly manner his mangled face requires. And even still, in his solitude, he seems ashamed of it. He places a pair of small medals on a ribbon around his neck, lies back onto the ground and stares at the trees. And from the bottom of the frame, the end of the rifle appears as he sticks it into his mouth. It's awkward, but he reaches his hand to find the trigger. He's seconds away from ending his life when he hears a dog growl beside him. It's a shabby-looking shepherd of a dog, and Harrow tells him to get out of here. But the dog grabs Harrow's mask as he runs away. Snapped out of his reverie, Richard gives chase, yelling "I need that mask!" There goes his orderly suicide.
Nucky returns home, complaining of his golf-induced sunburn. Margaret has a fretful look on her face, and for good reason: Eli's here. She couldn't keep him from barging in, and now he's in the conservatory. Nucky isn't happy, but tells her it'll be fine. In the conservatory, Nucky fixes Eli with exactly the condescending, hateful look he deserves. Eli doesn't waste any time pointing out the opulence in which Nucky lives. He mentions the offer Nucky put on the table the last time they spoke, but Nucky, lighting-quick, says the offer is gone. Eli complains about Nucky being unfairly terse, which is really about all I can stand. He also plays the brother card, but Nucky's not interested. "Unless you have something else to say, aside from the fact that God distributes his gifts unequally, this conversation is over." So Eli starts to spill -- he knows who's going to testify against Nucky. But that's of no value anymore now that Nucky's got the AG in his pocket. Eli calls Nucky "one nasty prick." Nucky says yeah, and Eli has no place else to go. Give him something else, Nucky says, and he'll play ball. And he'll know Eli is his brother. So Eli gives up the farm and tells Nucky about the Commodore's stroke. Game over, you sad little ball of inferiority complex, you. Nucky takes this all in, about how Jimmy and Gillian are trying to run the show, and how batty and incestuous they are. Nucky's like, "I suppose they're my fault too," but Eli is in prime backpedalling mode. He's like, "No! You were trying to take care of them! And me and Pop." Nucky reminds him that he was taking care of Mabel too. Eli says he's right. "...Poor Mabel." Oh this is a transparent display! And that's even before Eli starts begging and crying. YOU CAN ACT LIKE A MAN! Nucky looks with pity on a pitiable man. "All right," he says. "We'll sort it out." Oh Nucky, you chump. You sentimental chump.
...What, sorry? There's more? Nucky Columbos Eli with one more thing: "I need you to get on your knees. Bend down to the ground and kiss my fucking shoes, you piece of shit!" Eli is so taken aback, he doesn't even fight back when Nucky starts slapping him around. "Fuck that little cocksucker you call a partner," Nucky seethes, "fuck his conniving cunt of a mother, fuck that old man, I'll see his corpse in a ditch, and fuck you, brother!" ...Okay, that was pretty satisfying. Nucky bowls Eli into the greenhouse and they begin brawling among the potted plants. It goes on for a good bit too, each man getting the upper hand, until Eli, his hands wrapped around his brother's throat, gets a rifle in his face. (Nice symmetry with the Harrow scene, as the rifle creeps into the frame, nose-first.) Margaret's the one holding the gun, and she orders Eli to leave. "Pop..." Eli begins, a last resort if ever there was one, but Nucky doesn't give a fuck. Eli manages to sulk out, even at the business end of a rifle. As she walks him out, the look on Margaret's face goes from stone-cold to utter terror. After Eli's gone, Nucky furiously grabs the gun from Margaret and tells her that time, she might try loading the gun before pointing it at anyone. Um, she just saved your life, dick! The fuck you mad at her for? "Is this to be our lives?!" Margaret calls after Nucky as he stalks off. No answer.
Faceless and winded, Richard has slumped down against a tree. (Again, I like how Nucky and Eli's panting blended into Richard's.) He's come upon by a hunter -- who doesn't remark upon his exposed face, I should mention. He asks him to follow along and leads Richard back to a campfire, where the dog sits, along with a fellow hunter. Taciturn, but not unfriendly, they invite Richard to sit down and give him his mask back. They're cooking "tree rats" (squirrels) on the fire and offer him some, and after they confirm that he's not an IRS agent, they also offer him some booze. These guys seem friendly, and they banter with one another while not pressing Richard for more information than he's willing to give. They don't seem to entirely buy that he was hunting, though.
Nucky returns to the Ritz, where Daugherty introduces him to the prosecutor on his case, one "Chip" Thorogood. ...Okay, I see how this is going. Nucky wants to know how this will work. Nucky's lawyer (who I guess from last week is called "Icky") and Chip take turns explaining: Chip will present a motion to transfer to federal court, under the Mann Act. Then, Icky says, "we go before our judge" and argue their case, to which the judge will grant the motion. Then, the Department of Justice will decide that it's not worth the time or manpower to prosecute the case. "We're swamped with Volstead as it is," Daugherty says, as he raises a glass of spirits. This is all good news, but Nucky isn't totally happy. He wants a guarantee that nothing will go wrong, but they can't give him one. Hrm, that seems like it could be foreshadow-y. Nucky looks at his lawyer and says wearily, "Just remember this was your idea." Icky takes his leave -- he's got an early train to catch -- but Daugherty looks at Nucky expectantly and says they're free ... all evening.
Harrow pockets the leftover bones from his squirrel dinner (yum!) and asks about the dog. The men tell him that the dog's not even theirs, he just came around their way. "He's an old soldier," the younger one, named Glenmore, says. "Keeps on fightin'." Harrow asks what he's fighting for now. "You're gonna have to ask him," Glenmore says. He also says he's sleeping out there tonight, but the old one is going to head home. Richard says he should get home, and the old one offers him a ride. Glenmore tells Richard that he's out in these woods a lot, has seen people come out and get up to "all kinds of foolishness." That's not what these woods are for, he says, meaningfully. They're for hunting. "These woods are for living. Understand me there?" Richard says he does. Thanks, wise hobos!
Eli's in his garage, working on repairing a gun and getting drunk. His little son is there -- asks dad if his throat is still sore -- and for the first time in a season and a half, we get a little bit of shading on Eli's character. He's weak, he's whiny, he's got a persecution complex that could crush the boardwalk under its weight, but with little Brian here, he's actually a pretty good dad. You'd expect that under the circumstances -- humiliated, desperate, drunk -- and given parenting mores of the time, Eli would be taking all his anger and frustrations out on his little boy. That's not the case, and it gives me something else to consider about Eli for the first time ever. There's a knock on the door, and it's George. Brian answers it, and Eli sends him off to find a "veeblefetzer" to help repair the gun. So Brian heads off to find such a nonsense object, in his little sweater and tie. He leaves Eli to deal with George, who is shaking in his boots. He's heard a rumor today that the Commodore is out of commission. Eli denies it, lying that he had breakfast with him this morning: "eggs, bacon... the man loves his bacon." He's as bad a liar as he is good a father, and George isn't buying. George wants to go over and make sure, but Eli tells him not to. George tells him plain: if the Commodore isn't around to protect them from Nucky, they are all very exposed and vulnerable. Eli stands up, and George feels threatened. He surmises that it's all true, and begins to freak out at the idea of Eli and Jimmy in charge. Rightly so, I'd say. Eli drunkenly grabs George by the lapels and tells him to shut up. George keeps yelling "Let go!" and Eli keeps begging for the chance to think of something to say. George yells that he'll go straight to Nucky (uh, too late), and finally, in his panic, Eli grabs the closest thing he can find -- a wrench -- and swings it at George. He hits him in the throat, hard, crushing his windpipe. George can't breathe, and there's terror on his face. Eli doesn't know what to do now. The guy's dying in front of him. He collapses to the ground, and Eli does the only thing he can think of: he finishes the job. And since 2011 is The Year of Crushing People's Heads on Camera, we see him relentlessly bashing poor George until his skull is a flat, gooey mess. I've seen the look on Eli's face described as a smile here. I'm not sure I'm totally there. It's the desperate look of a man who can't believe it's come to this, but now that it has... hey, what's ? Brian comes running up to the garage door and calls inside that the neighbor couldn't find any veeblefetzer. Eli tells him to go back to the house; his sore throat is catching. I'll say.
At home with the Darmodys, Angela asks Jimmy how his head is feeling (lots of scene-transition humor this week). She also asks if he meant the things he said at the ceremony (about fighting for wives, sons, etc.). Jimmy says he's here, they're together, and they're safe and well fed. What else is there? Angela says there has to be something more than just that. He kisses her on the forehead. There's a knock at the door, and even after saying they have nothing to be afraid of, Jimmy grabs his gun. But it's only Richard. There's a momentary chilliness between him and Jimmy because he was gone all day (on a day when Jimmy could've used backup), but when Richard says he needed to take a walk, Jimmy simply says he'd have been better off taking a walk himself. He then asks Richard if he's up for a job tonight. There's a momentary silence, so Jimmy asks if there's a problem. Richard finally asks, "Would you fight for me?" Jimmy doesn't hesitate: "Of course I would. Right down to the last bullet." Aw! Pals! Let's get to work killing some guys, then!
Back in the garage, Eli has covered George with a sack. He sits in his darkened garage, wondering what to do.
Parkhurst sits in his home in what looks like a craft room as he examines a Native American beaded sash of some kind. The spoils of an eternal profiteer. He looks ahead out the window, and we cut to an angle from outside looking dead-on at Parkhurst. Now, time for some real talk: we know that Jimmy and Richard are going after this guy. We know that Richard's forte is sniping from long distances, so this entire scene is one long wait for the bullet to come from outside the window and the suspense is fantastic. Inside, Parkhurst's black servant, Alexander, asks if he'd like to take his cocoa tonight, and Parkhurst shows off the Sioux breechcloth that he's managed to track down after years of searching. Alexander remarks that it doesn't cover much. "They come charging at you practically bare-assed," Parkhurst growls. "Waving clubs. Thought they could stop bullets with magic! Foolish." Yes. Fools who think they can stop bullets with illusionary things like magic. Or money. Or status. We're all waiting for that sniper shot. Alexander leaves, but when Parkhurst calls out to him again, he's instead met by Jimmy and Richard, who are not sniping from the lawn but are IN the house. Nice misdirection, there. Jimmy: "I'm gonna teach you something now." He holds the old man's arms down with the cane. Parkhurst wails impotently, like when the Big Lebowski falls out of his chair. Strong men also cry, and withered old vestiges of institutional genocide also get scalped by half-faced mercenaries with hearts of gold. Yes, SCALPED. "Who the hell are you?" Parkhurst screams at Harrow. "A soldier," he replies. The one identity he can cling to. And then he gets to scalping the old racist coot.
Parkhurst's screams seem to wake up Margaret, but watching it back, those screams clearly blend with another person. Still, she's awake and goes out to the hall to check out the disturbance. The children are fine, and when she turns back to the hall and is startled by Katy, who heard no screams but did hear Margaret out in the hall. Is anything wrong? Margaret's just jumpy considering the events of the day; she tells Katy to get back to bed...
And Katy is verrrrry happy to do so, because sitting in her bed, barely covered by the sheet, is Owen Sleater. Okay, Katy! Get some! Turns out there was a scream -- hers. She tells Owen to keep it down, she doesn't want to get caught. Yes, knowing Margaret's weird uncomfortable feelings around Owen, I don't think that would turn out well for Katy. And behind closed doors, in servant's quarters, Katy is not quite as charitable to Margaret. She scoffs at her snooping in the hallway, says she "probably thinks I'm pinching the silverware. I probably should be, what she pays me." Sleater raises an eyebrow, and Katy's like, "That's not all!" She tells him about Margaret making her call her family in Brooklyn "and they didn't want anything to do with her." So I guess they ARE pretending she's dead. That's rough. (I should apologize, because I missed the glaringly obvious Margaret/Peggy thing when they called Margaret's family that would have connected those dots.) Owen seems a smidge more sympathetic to Margaret than Katy is and proclaims this "hard luck." They get back to the flirty "you shouldn't be here" banter before she disrobes for a moment of Classy HBO Period Detail T&A, and then she gets back up on that, as she should.
Deputy Halloran returns to our lives as he meets Eli at the garage. He's as dumb-witted as ever, thank God. "Is it somebody I know?" he asks, looking at the dead body made unrecognizable by Eli, who scoffs that it's Mary Pickford. Halloran: "You killed Mary Pickford?!" Welcome home, Halloran. He helps Eli carry the body off.
Meanwhile, Nucky's in his office, trying to do work, when the sounds of carousing in the room come busting through the doorway. Chip's in his undies, boozing and making a scene, while Daugherty is getting pawed at by one woman and blown by another. Chip asks Eddie to find them some champagne and oysters, and Nucky nods mirthlessly at Eddie that he should. His request granted, Chip gets back to behaving badly, drawing a stern parental tone from Nucky as he tells the "counselor" to shut the door.
It's burial by headlight for Eli as he digs a lonely grave for George. He's furiously trying to finish before sunrise can implicate him. Another Memorial Day come and gone in Atlantic City.
Joe R is about ready for Uncle Junior to start earning his first-guest-star position. He can be reached for lavish praise and nothing but at joseph.reid21@gmail.com, and you can listen to him yammer on to his heart's content on the Extra Hot Great podcast.
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