Based on the first two episodes, this is worth continuing with. Timothy Olyphant plays Raylan Givens, a US Marshal who is quick to draw his gun, and for whom the parallels with the role of a marshal in the early West still seems relevant. Early in the first episode he is posted back to Harlan County, Kentucky, where he grew up, and the rest of the series appears to take place there. Givens is based on a recurrent Elmore Leonard character, and Leonard is credited as an executive producer.
Part of the pleasure of the series is seeing Olyphant reprising his role as Seth Bullock, but with far more enjoyment than he showed in Deadwood. In that show he was one of the weakest characters: all repressed fury without a hint of irony. But in Justified, Olyphant is far more relaxed, with an easy smile and a sly sense of humor. There is menace when he threatens a suspect, but it is always delivered gently.
But the real reason to watch this is the locale in which it takes place. This is rural Kentucky, and the show displays a real sympathy for the ex-coal miners and the assorted losers who populate the trailers and shacks that litter the show, even when those same people become Nazi thugs, or small time thieves. In each of the first two episodes the audience is invited to develop some empathy with those on the wrong side of the law. And there are some lovely touches that bring out the clash of worlds, for example a prison bluegrass band performing at a birthday party held at an exclusive country club.
everything i know about rural kentucky i’ve learned by observing jeff turner.
had i realized this was based on the leonard stories and novels about givens i would have watched it from the beginning. are the first two episodes on hulu?
I just checked, and apparently the answer is “yes”. I haven’t watched Hulu, but I guess I should start.
Oops, it is just video clips that are available.
every rural Kentucky stereotype is given full license in this show (I keep waiting for the skies to rain meth). I’ve seen the first episode and it didn’t knock my socks off . . . (they kill off the most intriguing character) . . . Olyphant strikes me as too pretty (and too clever) for the role of a former coal miner, now federal marshal with a jumpy trigger finger. I’m gonna watch episode two, but I’m not holding out too much hope . . .
Stereotypes or not, this show just keeps getting better and better. The dialogue is the centerpiece, as you would expect with Leonard involved, and some scenes are mesmerizing. Last week’s episode was almost entirely taken up with conversation — at times funny and always clever — between Raylan and an escaped convict who had taken hostages, and this week peeled back the onion a little on Raylan’s relationship with his (now ex-) wife. Almost every moment was worth savoring. The show much prefers shades of gray in all its characters, lawmen and criminals alike, in place of the usual black and white.
Yeah, I am still watching and my admiration has grown, especially now that OnDemand makes it available in HD. Olyphant is always a pleasure, though it would be nice if the other characters were given more depth and purpose. These days I find it is harder to watch a show that lacks a continuous story arc encompassing multiple characters over a longer period of time (“Justified” flirts with that but so far is hedging its bets). Solving a case/mystery in 42 minutes doesn’t quite do it for me anymore (though I recognize I am in the minority). I do like the stuff with Boyd Crowder in prison (and his father was one of the baddies on LOST which is cool), but the stuff with Ava is lacking. I am also having a hard time embracing Raylan’s father and his ex-wife. Still, the laconic tone of the show does work for me. Shows I love: United States of Tara, Nurse Jackie, Glee, Parks and Recreation and Modern Family.
nurse jackie rocks the house. i’m scared of the united states of tara because i dread a hokey rendition of DID.
after i watched the first two episodes of Glee i posted something on facebook and jeff and i had a brief exchange about the show. i don’t know if others are watching, but i have some thoughts i want to share, and hopefully discuss, and even if it’s just jeff and me, this place is better than facebook.
the pilot is atrocious in a million respects and brilliant in another million. let me list the former million. the original membership of the glee club, on episode 1, comprises: a petite, cute, non-blond white female whom no-one likes, a very gay white male whom no-one likes, a wheelchair-bound white male, a large black female, and a plumpish asian female. they are all fabulous singers, yet there is no question that the lead female will be the pretty white girl and the lead male… wait, there is no lead male! i seriously had to do a double take on that. there are two other males in the cast but it’s apparent to everyone, in the sense of needing no explanation at all, that there is no lead male.
in episode two, the jane lynch character spittingly shouts at the very handsome white heterosexual male spanish prof who’s the club mentor that his group is a bunch of misfit crips (or something very much to this effect). now, you see, i have my mind very focused on disability studies because i’m teaching a class on it, and this characterization of a group in which there is only one crip but a lot of non-normate (i.e non-able-bodied, heterosexual, handsome male) students made me positively joyous, because it provided a real-world (so to speak) confirmation to what crip theorists shout from the rooftops, i.e. that crip theory is a universalizing discourse that has a whole lot to do with other minority discourses like race, gender, and queer studies. i was giddy.
thankfully, the quarterback of the football team comes to the rescue and we now have a proper male lead in the glee club. aforementioned QB has all the right attributes, including: extreme fitness, extreme cuteness, and the fortuitousness of being discovered as a talented singer by the hetero spanish prof while showering alone in the locker room. spanish prof is himself an ex glee club member with tremendously fond memories of that time, so the meeting of these two red-blooded males amateur singers in the locker room is packed with meaning (the passing down of the-right-body from male to male, repressed homosexuality, the primacy of the jock, etc.).
and this is only the beginning of what’s wrong with this show. as people have pointed out, all female characters fit into some negative stereotype of femininity. it’s not even subtly done. all the woman are some variety of hysterical, phobic, manipulative, bitchy, pathetic, in various combinations.
the million good things about the first two episodes are: the music, the acting, the writing, jane lynch, the principal, the male homoerotic tension, the openness to male homosexuality.
so here are some questions:
1. am i so disconnected from the world of television that i set the bar way too high and this sexist/ableist/racist fare is just run of the mill and smart people like my friend jeff are able to set it aside like white noise?
2. is the main attraction of the show a certain lovely masculinity to which all the other “actors” provide a welcome background and fodder?
3. do we know what’s the audience breakdown?
4. what is the joy of musicals and why are musicals so potent in some cultures and so non-existent in others (mine)?
5. what is the gender of musicals?
6. jeff told me on fb that this is about the most gay-friendly show on tv today. is gay here to be read as gay male or is it friendly to gay girls too?
7. why does gay male sensitivity speak to women while the opposite is very rarely true?
8. are representations of gay masculinity sexist by default?
I like to think of the show as one which satirizes certain genre expectations when it comes to shows about teachers, high school angst and agony, coming-of-age narratives, musical tropes (it’s a real genre hybrid with a self-reflexive streak that’s downright addictive). But really it’s a potent, quirky fantasy (as most musicals are) and that’s another thing that makes the show work. I mean, just watch the episode where it is discovered (because he is trying so hard to impress his very straight dad) that Kurt is actually a very good field goal kicker for the high school losing football team. The funny is that he needs the team to dance to Beyonce’s “All the Single Ladies” in order for him to be an accurate field goal kicker.
Spoilers all: Rachel (your pretty white lead) is actually always on the outside of the circle; she’s Jewish, so seemingly self-assured she’s downright vulnerable, and she’s the adopted daughter of two dads (who wishes she knew her mom). It’s the sassy, uber-popular, blond Quinn who plays the role of the prom queen ideal, but she’s also got some growing up to do. And Rachel is also extremely self-centered and can be quite cruel to her less talented peers (she’s a girl on a mission to be a star and is willing to get in anyone’s face who might jeopardize her stardom). A lot of the glee club members resent her, but she’s got some thick skin. Jane Lynch’s character is a buffoon and a bully, but she has an adult sister with Down’s Syndrome which softens some of her performative invective.
I do think, if you make the investment, that the male-centered/ableist/racist fare is deconstructed as the show moves forward (and the writers settle in on the right tone for the material; I really don’t think anyone imagined this show to be as successful as it has been). As far as same sex desire between females go, there is a lovely development between two of the “Cheerios” (Brittany and Santana) that humorously flirts with bisexual attraction . . . but yeah, lesbians aren’t as embraced. Musicals, stereotypically, are gay male fair.
Kristin Chenoweth, Molly Shannon, Neil Patrick Harris, Olivia Newton John, Josh Groban, Idina Menzel – these are just a few of the guest stars who really have a ball pulling out all the stops in their story arcs. Again, the Lady Gaga and Madonna episodes were hilarious and reverent homages to greatness.
The quarterback risks everything to participate in the glee club. His standing as top dog on campus is undermined by his true desire to sing and dance. This sure as hell ain’t Friday Night Lights. He’s also mourning the death of his father in the Iraq war, while also watching as his mother enters into a romantic relationship with Kurt’s father which leads to loads of complications. And he makes a lot of missteps but he also works to be better than he is expected to be.
Again, this is no way to watch television. I’d rather watch it and fall in love with it and then, later, try to make “meaning” out of it . . . or hear that it is so popular (and yet I had no desire whatsoever to watch) and then watch to figure out what all the fuss is (I used to do that a lot in my classroom with CSI: Las Vegas episodes).
As far as your questions: the answer is no to #2.
Also, I said it is the most queer-friendly “scripted” show on television. Reality television is queer heaven.
The only element of the show which was truly a misfire is Will’s wife Terri. That plot thread was just annoying but, fortunately, is reconciled by the end of first season.
I can understand why you would like to point out all that is wrong with this show . . . it’s what we do . . . but you seem to have something approaching a vendetta. Why is that?
I’m not inclined to fall in love here–with some notable exceptions, I’m not the right kind of dog to hear musicals’ whistling allure.
I’ve seen one full episode, in the context of my own course on disability studies. A fan in class taped and used one episode for a presentation & discussion. The kid in the wheelchair is feeling particularly dislocated from the Glee group, and one arc is people trying to understand where he’s coming from (which means, eventually–natch–everyone doing a number in wheelchairs). Another arc is a girl with Down’s syndrome trying out for Lynch’s cheerios, and JL’s teaching Glee teacher a lesson–she seems to be ruthlessly mean, but she’s actually giving this girl a chance (and he just wanted to protect her), and the episode ends with the reveal of Lynch’s institutionalized adult sister. (There’s also pregnancy angst, competition between the disliked female lead and the gay soprano for a lead song, and the gay soprano’s talk with his dead about acceptance, and… phew. A lot going on.)
The initial focus–by the presenter and some other fans–was look at how great this show is. A central lead with a disability–not just a guest in a “very special episode” where all the kids learn about disability and then that guest never returns. Yet the show also had that special guest star — the young woman with Down’s trying out. From what I gather, she’s never there afterwards. Disability is often used to soften & humanize, to teach lessons; particularly in television (but, really, everywhere), the person with the disability shows up and gives everyone a chance to show off their compassion. Jeff notes that Lynch’s sister “softens” her, and I call bullshit on that–it drives me crazy how disabled characters are personality crutches. That woman’s only function is to “complicate” our reading of Jane.
That was my initial gut resistance. We batted this around a lot. And where I think we ended up–smart claims on all sides, much debate–was that what Glee seems to do with particular effect is foreground the complexities of representation in pop culture. It uses all the tropes of a dominant discourse about disability, for instance, and its ostensible nods toward inclusion are half-assed, stereotypical, treacly. And yet it throws all those tropes at you in a rush: I mean, A LOT goes on in this episode. I really can’t say that there’s some conscious deconstruction; the show’s end in Lynch’s sister’s hospital room is melodramatic and (aggravatingly) straight in its tone. But the emphasis here on putting on a show or number *does* seem to foreground a viewer attention to the stories we tell. The characters are always talking about what their “kind of” character is supposed to do; what gets foregrounded is less a critical distance from these tropes than a constant engaged critical attention to roles, ‘types, narratives.
I give it props for some of what Jeff is arguing, even as I find myself also frustrated by much of what Gio notes.
Now back to love and appreciation. When I love a genre–say, horror–I am constantly attentive to the interesting critical possibilities. I’m receptive to its complexities. When a genre bores me (or, let me take responsibility: when I refuse to give in to a genre’s opportunities for joy), I find it much harder to get past that critical knocking. (That is, if I pay it any mind at all.) My gut here is that those who take great pleasure in this show also see great complexity; those dissociated from its joys probably can’t get over its flawed approaches. This seems to me a pretty typical critical bind.
How’s that? I can’t say much more, ’cause I’m generally Glee-less, aside from the above example…
I do not see great complexity in “Glee”, but I do very much enjoy watching. The fact that the show does play around with what is and what is not considered “normal” is intriguing to me, but not everything I enjoy automatically gets filtered through critical theory. Some of it is just gloriously silly and infectious.
Lynch’s fictional sister does indeed return (though she is marginalized). Artie (boy in wheel-chair) is not played by an actor who requires a wheel chair, which has resulted in a great amount of ambivalence on my part, though there is a sentimentally exuberant fantasy sequence in an episode directed by Joss Whedon where Artie gets up and dances to “The Safety Dance” in a mall (a clever sequence which intercuts video footage of actual mall people dancing – Gleeks I imagine – with the actors’ more choreographed work). The kid who plays Artie was a former boy band member. I remember thinking at the very beginning that Artie must be played by a paraplegic actor but was also curious how such a kid could have such amazing vocal and breath control. I was bummed to learn that Kevin McHale was not disabled (but I didn’t let that hinder my enjoyment of the show). There is also another paraplegic “guest” character who enters later in the season. It’s another one-off and problematic to the extreme (sentimental to the inth degree) but I do think Ryan Murphy sees the success of the show as a golden opportunity to directly address the politics of difference through a mainstream pop-TV phenomenon. I’ll be curious to see how he carries this forward in the second season.
Thanks for that, Jeff–I actually find the glee around Glee pretty encouraging. I wasn’t really seeking great complexity in the show itself — rather, I was trying to tease out what George Lipsitz says about all great popular culture: that (however seemingly simple its form or content) it will capture the ambivalences and complexities of our understanding of (say) normalcy, identity, difference, community. And Glee seems a brilliant evocation of such — re disability, the stuff that I am always restlessly agitated by, its constant teasing/testing about the “normal” range of abilities is not offset or undercut by its tendency toward mawkish reiterations of cheesy disability storylines. They work in complement–and I think it’s hard to watch the show without seeing its challenges to and embrace of the norm, both.
I guess I’m circling around what I believe about the inevitably parallel or complementary work of enjoyment and discernment. I am trying to push against a dichotomy between taking one emphasis from Gio–to critique the show–or one from you–to embrace its infectiousness. Part of what I hear you saying you love is that the show *does* do interesting things with difference, normalcy, masculinity, sexuality… and they may not translate neatly into the right critical stance (whatever that may be), but my very limited sample set of fans sure indicated a rich and complex appreciation of the show’s use of positive and negative representations of ability.
Blah di blah. Jesus, I’ve been writing a proposal for the last 3 hours for the institution, and I’m brain dead. Sorry. I’m going to go run then walk around in what may surely be one of the last great warm sunny days of the year….
i watched two more episodes and i’m liking this better, enough to push dvd #2 at the top of my netflix queue and be bummed i forgot to mail #1 immediately. just so y’all know. now that all the “cripples” from episode one have had their day in the sun i feel A LOT better. it is nice to see characters given their due, and it *is* nice to see characters who look “different” (advisedly put in quotation marks to indicate that i’m using it in its technical meaning) in all sorts of ways.
this show, not complex? it seems incredibly complex to me. it is not exactly brainy — it aims after all to be light and fun — but it sure packs a lot of controversial material in its short 47 minutes. it doesn’t precisely un-pack it — the way, say, The Wire (that paragon of televisual complexity) or Damages do — but it gives plenty opportunity for strong feelings of identification, pleasure, distaste, annoyance, delight and all sorts of emotional responses that elicit precisely the heated conversation we are having here.
jeff, i did not have a personal vendetta, no, but there are issues we feel strongly about, all of us, yes? the pilot gut-punched me. it is still, i have to say, the foundation of the show, and the fact that it’s getting slowly covered in mulch and fallen leaves doesn’t make it less, well, there. at the same time, things are changing — as i said, more actors get their due, become less caricaturish, get fleshed out, etc. and more actors enter the scene. nice. the fact remains, though, that the leads are handsome white men, and a complicatedly pretty white woman.
listen, i watch barely any tv, so i am not a good person to contextualize this in current tv trends. i throw my impressions out here, see what happens. thanks for engaging with me.
finally, on the politics of pleasure. if i had immediately loved the show i would have been less inclined (maybe) to take it apart. i would definitely have been less inclined to emphasize its failures, especially to this crowd. but i didn’t, and i did. at the same time, it seems important to me that we analyze our displeasures and especially our pleasures. they are not natural. they have roots that are deeply personal and deeply social — as if these two dimensions could be neatly (or at all) separated. the place we come from when we attack some forms of representations vehemently and defend others with equal vehemence is a rich and complex place, and it seems worthwhile, to me, that we individuate it and map it out. since mike, jeff, and i come from very different places, this conversation seems really valuable to me. you, jeff, talk about the intense pleasure you derive from the teacherly aspect of this show. this is great, and not something i can identify with. i do not direct musicals (you lucky bastard)!
it is a fact, though, and i hope i won’t get chewed out for saying this, that women (and people of color, gay people, disabled people, etc…) make the effort (it *is* an effort, whether we are aware of it or not) to like stuff a lot more than (white) guys do. as i said here before, it is hard to see yourself stereotyped negatively, over and over. now, honestly, i don’t know how many guys other than gay men and theatre people (who are also of course gay men) are watching this, but i suspect not many. so, on this, you and i, jeff, might be uneasy prom dates. still, maybe this can give you a sense of where i was coming from with my first, rather abrasive (i gather!) comment.
mike, keep your institutional gripes to yourself, you assistant dean you (or whatever you are). most of us here don’t even have tenure. wait, is it true?
At the risk of getting chewed out myself, let me offer two tentative guidelines here: 1. no inside academia chat. I don’t know about others, but I can’t bear it; and 2.) I won’t make sweeping generalizations about what others are like/what they do/etc. if, as a “white guy” I’m spared the same treatment?
I was going to revise my previous snarky remark but I seemed to have lost the option…..in any case, I was thinking of giving Glee a try but now I’m not sure I wouldn’t rather pull my own head off.
The use of the word vendetta was harsh, Gio. Apologies. A show like this, with so many narrative threads, is going to take a little time to exhibit its true colors (so to speak). Plus, I genuinely believe Ryan Murphy and company believed in the show but was not entirely sure that the audience would buy in. I think its immediate popularity (and in some circles its Gleek-acity) allowed Murphy to move in the directions that most interested him (he is an openly gay man who truly believes art education to be integral in K-12). But you can’t switch up the gears so fast. They were probably well on their way through shooting the first nine or ten episodes before they even knew what the show could be, which is why I think the production team took a hiatus (taking a very long break between November and April before new episodes aired leading into the May sweeps weeks). My understanding is that now that the show has landed (and has become something of a pop phenomenon), Murphy has been making grander plans to give the “secondary” characters more complexity and more air time (boyfriends, girlfriends, family lives, fully developed story lines, etc).
Worth considering: audiences loved the first season of “Heroes” on NBC a few years ago. It had all the markings of a long-term success (a la LOST), but in its second season it flamed out of control, lost it’s audience, and descending, eventually, into oblivion. It is a very fickle medium. Eight months from now we may be wondering whatever happened to that show Glee. Does anybody still watch?
I wanted to post some inside academia chat, but as I was dictating this to my manservant in my fur-lined office, nibbling on fresh macadamia nuts and sipping Black Label, I fell asleep.
Thanks to Gio and Jeff for their back-and-forth. This is the best kind of criticism; your discussions/debate make me rethink the show, which makes me like it more. (I may be an aberration, but a critical stance enhances my pleasure. Seeking out complexities, pushing on or against a show’s issues–these make me even more susceptible to its pleasures. Cue Arnab for joke about my relationship with Kris.)
Great point by Jeff about the production context for television and how that alters the content. (I’d be really interested to see how Gleek talk is further influencing the on-going production, too.)
perhaps I was harsh in saying I wouldn’t watch the show….however, I am getting a serious vibe that it’s manipulative rather than complex….and rather precious in the way that TV dramas can be when dealing with the “underdog.” I also have a certain skepticism when a successful show dovetails with the desires of music marketing…as in the tribute to the new corporate package Lady Gaga. But, then again, I should probably see it if I want to comment further…..
As to Lady Gaga – having taken my daughter to see her perform a couple of weeks ago (and, in the process, learning a lot about her work) – I think her politics (her corporate pop agenda) are in strong alliance with Ryan Murphy’s. Her commitment to the GLBT community is certainly not a pose nor is it a persona to take on and off at will. And in concert she is an ardently aggressive advocate for young people to take ownership of their inherent sense of identity. I know that sounds like BS, but she’s quite compelling (and she can actually write, play and sing which is unique). She’s more earnest, heart-felt, and less “performative” (in the pejorative sense of the term) than some of her peers (Ke$ha, for example). Her work is less neo-Madonna than it is post-Madonna. Time will tell, but I truly think Murphy devoted an hour to her music and style and message not so much to jump on the bandwagon and score some Nielsen ratings point, but because her work speaks to his sense of fair play and social justice.
somebody’s worked lady gaga into a show based on an elmore leonard character?
Justified: The Musical starring “The Situation” as Raylan Givens begins on MTV in October.
I am just about through season one of “Justified,” and–damn, I really enjoy it. I’ve read most everything Elmore Leonard has written, but I come to most adaptations with great trepidation. Filmmakers have gotten stuck on the whimsy or hijinx, or condensed out the rich character work to emphasize action — but he basically writes these revelatory sequences of conversation, where the most interesting conflicts occur in the shifting tone of a particular response. I think Soderbergh’s Out of Sight* was really the only film that nailed the vibe… until this show. There were indeed a few episodes early on that felt love-boaty, with less arc — but the joy of watching on dvd allows me to rush through and see the character development and the slow, ultimately-intense burn around the Crowder family. Olyphant’s great. I kind of agree that Ava’s not got enough to do… but this is a pure pleasure. I can’t wait to finish up this season and settle in for the second, coming shortly….
*Two qualifications: Jackie Brown is amazing, perhaps my favorite Tarantino film–but while it captures some of the great Leonard vibe it also weaves in references to and engagement with ’70s and ’80s B crime films, QT’s own aesthetic…
Second, Fifty-Two Pick-Up is a bit too ’80s, but Frankenheimer does some great stuff with the bad guys (John Glover, Clarence Williams especially), and I’ve raved about its quality as an EL adaptation before….
I’m glad you liked Justified. I just luxuriated in the dialogue. I should have re-watched before the second season starts; perhaps it is not too late.
What’s amazing is Leonard hasn’t never written a lick of dialogue for the show, and only episode one was a strict adaptation. They took a couple characters and have somehow kept up that EL vibe. You mentioned the great episode with W. Earl Brown, the convict who takes hostages. (First, it was *great* to see a couple Deadwood’s Dan again.) That stuff about chicken, and respect–the way Givens and the convict tease one another, but never lose the serious/dangerous edge. And there was real sympathy about the dehumanizing impact of prison . . . very few of these characters (even the hapless white-power dipshit Dewey Crow) are simply joke fodder. They may be types, but they aren’t stereotypes.
And–damn!–what a finale!
And season 2 opens at an even higher note. They’ve brought in Margo Martindale, who wowed in the superlative Alexander Payne short in Paris Je T’Aime–and she is phenomenal as a reefer farmer and serious badass, apparently drawn from a historical figure. (Jeremy Davies plays one of her sons, and he’s got his twitchiness controlled into some workable tics; another son at first seems like big dipshit comic relief but then throws a rat and his stupidity morphs into sinister danger.) There’s such menace throughout, just a great sense of tension–yet it’s funny as hell.
I am now so averse to commercial breaks that I recorded the first episode last night and I’ll watch it later, forwarding through the commercials. I watched the entire first season in the past week, and I liked it even more than the first time around. It is so strong that the few false notes jump out at you. The easy-going banter laced with menace, the unhurried conversations between Raylan and Boyd, it is all great.
They certainly jettisoned all those pesky plot points from the first season with brash expediency. Miami drug cartel, we hardly knew you! But the Bennett clan is far more interesting than the prosaic Crowders. Jackie Weaver’s Australian matriarch could learn a thing or two from Margo Martindale. That “apple pie” scene was beautiful to watch. And yeah, Davies reigns in the syncopated actor schtick and makes me look forward to more (limp and all). Those Jim Beam commercials, however, scared the living bejesus out of me.
Ha! Yeah, I now make my tentative way through the day, worried that Willem Dafoe is all around me.
Man, this show is just so much sharper this season than last, and Margo Martindale . . . damn, what a brilliant performance she’s delivering week after week after week (the scene in the church, the scene this past week up by the old mine shaft, the scene where she’s combing Loretta’s hair, the scene where she gets all primal on Coover’s hand). This woman deserves many awards for her work! And more love for Walter Goggins’ Boyd Crowder – one of my favorite characters on TV at the moment. Timothy Olyphant confidently shares the screen, which I very much appreciate (OK, the $100 bill episodes weren’t all that).
I’m enjoying it too, and certainly Martindale is brilliant; she dominates every scene she is in. I didn’t like the $100 episodes; they seemed forced and distracted us from the series story arc. I don’t know if they are going to be the source of some major move for Raylan at the end of the season — since Art seems to know — but his relationship with Winona is just less plausible and interesting that the relationship with Ava (and what, precisely, is her relationship with Boyd?).