The Judas Cradle – Morning Glory
We are all alone, together.
“This show is special. Heart so naked. We are all alone, together “.
Honestly, we know that he is a poet, it is true, though Greg Bryk must have felt really inspired by this wonderful show, to define it so beautifully with so few but incisive words.
He made them all stand in a tweet. Great poet. Inspired.
Like all of us.
How can you not feel inspired by a show that under the pretext to perform death, tells so much truth about life?
It whispers it. Gently, with notes in the background and precious words.
It paints it. Barely visible with light strokes, in lights and reflections, in looks and details.
These two hours of the season finale pass truly fast on the screen and pass within you. They invest and caress you at the same time. In the end, we all stand as Mary, eyes staring at the boat going away, brightly, blinding.
We feel alive.
It happens rarely that in an entertainment production such as a television series, there is enough to nourish the soul and heart with true feelings with deep emotions. Something indeed capable of overcoming the television screen barrier and touch us. Really touch us.
It’s rare but it happens.
As for Mary Kills People.
All alone, together.
They strive so much to get along alone, all the characters.
They do their best, work hard with a mixture of awareness and cynicism, which they have in common, paradoxically
Trust, loyalty, connections.
Throughout the story during previous episodes, it seemed clear to each of them that trust is painful, too much. Better to give up, do not open yourselves, do not rely on anyone. Even the ones who love you hurt you just as those who may not know you either.
Des and Mary. Mary and Ben. Ben and Frank and Jess and Naomi.
Each of them retain fragments of truth, hidden. Everyone feels alone.
In the first part of this Final Act, Mary embodies more than anyone else the paradigm of this disrupting, unnatural solitude.
Hats off, a deep bow, kudos, and a permanent sense of gratitude for the skill with which Caroline Dhavernas breaks into the soul’s hidden aspects of this complicated woman, making her poignant, passionate, so inherently human.
Mary did not trust Ben, Des wanted to betray her, her family is unable to approach her, Annie leaves her.
Fabulous, fantastic, admirable, Morgan, who has no need for too many bows to fathom her, in that detatched hotel room, Mary more lonely than him who is going to die.
From his abyss of despair, now that finally he can feel peace, Morgan reads Mary’s pain and understands.
The comforter becomes comforted and that pain that tears apart, hidden in the inner, finds solace in being narrated.
Staying with Morgan in quiet rest, Mary realizes that loneliness hurt her, much more than the people around her.
The thought of being always alone facing life, choices, events.
Lonely and therefore defeated.
Mutual comfort that Morgan and her are able to share in the most dramatic moment which gives Mary the awareness to admitting that there is no future, no hope, alone.
In the solitude that terrifies and surrounds death, Mary gets in a flash that the way out exists but the path must be ridden together.
When Mary leaves Morgan’s hotel room, she is no longer willing to give up.
She is ready to fight because living is hard, perhaps more so than dying.
When you do, when your “right” is what is wrong for everyone else, surely it is even harder.
Though there is no doubt, no more hesitation in Mary’s actions, once she understands which is the road that can be walked, but not by yourself.
Life is chaos and chaos must be ridden, not controlled, though alone you’re defeated on the outset.
In one shot Mary saves Des, saving trusting him. She recovers Annie, keeps Jess back close, opens to Nicole, trusts Ben.
She relies on Ben.
When she puts in Grady’s hands the needle with which he will inject her with pentobarbital, Mary puts her life in Ben’s hands.
Before trusting him, she decides to trust feelings he has for her.
Because love is true. Love does not lie and Mary felt something with Ben and she doesn’t want to believe it was only the “great sex”, counting on something that no one can ever guarantee but that exists if you feel it and believe it.
Mary does not fall, she remains standing, holding on to those thousands of fibres that connect us with each other, in Hermann Melville’s words.
She wins her battle triumphantly and with her, everyone understanding that you are alive if we open ourselves to others, win. That trust is not madness, it’s courage. Sometimes it is worth it…. “Or else the monsters win”.
Des, Annie, Jess, Ben, Nicole. All of them win with Mary.
Grady is the loser.
Grady who had stigmatized the power coming from emotional detachment, the strength coming from rational lucidity – only Greg Bryk could make him with that admirable expressive versatility – He dies.
The lone invincible fails in the same moment in which emotional distance is not enough to be in control and going further, he succumbs in an unfamiliar battleground.
So narcissistically obsessed, not to be underestimated and yet he ends up allowing Mary’s courage to surprise him, stunned just enough to change the story.
Of course we have already said it and all our heroes have experienced it: trust is risky, dangerous.
Yet, sometimes it is better to risk to be hurt than to hurt.
Des understands it immediately and shares his painful awareness with Ben in an unforgettable dramatic moment, both so tormented by their inner conflict, so torn by the battle going on in their hearts, against themselves, not to be really able to confront one another.
Unreachable and memorable, Richard Short and Jay Ryan in the opening moments of Des’ place.
Priceless is Ben’s tenderness in deciding how to live with his conflict and save Mary.
Of course, when he find out she is in danger, he rushes to save her.
“And then you were there,” she whispers in relief.
Maybe she had not realized how much Ben protected her even before, and perhaps she does not realize it fully even on the beach, when with a smile that would make anyone succumb, recommends Ben to not fall in love with his next target.
Ben, close to her, to protect and save her, because he failed to attach his private conversations with Mary to the investigation. He could not confide to Frank how close he’s come to the real Mary.
He told Des he did not know her at all, only because he felt betrayed by discovering the truth from Frank rather than from her.
He knew, in his heart, he felt something deep, something beyond sex, just as Mary did, and her confession to Des, in the car, gives him reason to his instinct.
Ben is all conflict in the season finale, torn by what he should do and what he would do. Everything got worse by what he got.
Thank you, thank Jay Ryan for dedicating all of himself to Ben and for doing it with such a generosity to give him to the audience so true.
There isn’t much of Ben’s conflict in his words, it’s all in facial expressions and looks, in sighs, jaw shrinks, arching eyebrows… A riveting show of rough and real humanity in a fictional character.
Everything: nervousness, indecisiveness, guilt, hope.
Sweetness and love, no, he does not conceal them all.
He pours them all in his goodbye – momentary – heart melting kiss.
He is not a man of many words, Ben. Rather one of few significant gestures.
He calls and meets her to give back the compromising photos found at Grady’s.
One more proof of how much he wanted to protect and save her even from herself if needed.
A serious pretext, just as his expression while waiting on the sand.
However, she reaches him, she smiles, and he can do nothing but tell her he cannot think of his life without her being a part of it.
Not a bad cop because of his behaviour toward Mary.
Far from it.
He knows how to give high value to his work, so much strength to his ethics, he has no doubts to distinguish what is right from what is legal, what is wrong from what is illegal.
Just like Mary does.
He makes his choices doing it with a firmness that is maybe his most beautiful surprise, often disguised by weakness.
Though, on that beach, in the strange light of an uncertain sunset, he knows he has been right.
To bet on the others is risky.
When the reward is a smile and a hidden promise …worth it.
Ben’s desire to a connection, his tender happiness understanding that he reached his goal, that it was not wrong to count on it, are a fantastic assistance to give a real meaning to Des’ words.
Wonderfully, he pulls the strings of the tale, whispering the moral of this story that had the ambition to tell the life, as it pretended to show us the death.
“No man is an island. We are all connected ”
Mary Kills People is all in these words.
Mary,Des and Annie goals. Ben, Jess, Nicole, wishes, and why not, Kevin and Louise’s too.
To find, to give, to share. Comfort, emotions, moments.
Each patient with stories and experiences, beautifully add meaning to the tale.
Not least Morgan, whose friends celebrating the farewell, united on the beach, remember what it means to be part of someone else’s life.
All alone you lose.
Together you win.
It takes courage.
Not to be just a burning boat astray.
Edited by Lisa