Caroline Dhavernas

Mary Kills People Season 2 finale part 2 – Fatal Flaw

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They say in the moment
before you die
you see your life,
a spat of film strip,
the bad and good,
nightmares and dreams,
unfolding before you.
Your first dog.
Your first cigarette.
Your first love.
A friend who became a stranger.
The tree you planted
when you were five.
These moments come up
and grab you.
Live and steady.
And then they let go.
Receding into the past.
Before parting ways,
your body is weightless,
hovering in place for what
feels like an eternity.
This is so you have
enough time to say goodbye.
But you don’t realize it.
Because it’s all of a moment.
A speck in time
in which you exist.
And then not.
Just a moment.
Before it’s all over.”
Justin Giallonardo, MaryKills People Season 2 Ep6

 I guess if Mary Kills People has its fatal flaw as a show, then it’s a passionate, fool love for what makes life meaningful.

This season finale, astoundingly poignant, pulls the strings of both seasons’ tale, links by hand all characters encountered on the stage. Actors and extras of a higher story of which maybe they were unaware.
All gathered together like Brendan’s friends saying his goodbyes in the woods, each one with its verses, each one with its fragment of life lived, to build the message, the legacy of this wonderful show.

Why Mary Kills People is a show captivating for the audience, involving intimately things we do not know or want to talk about.
What we know is that only something which has involved intensely in its genesis, can involve in turn.
What we rather want to highlight is how every single component, every single detail contributes to compose this valuable tapestry, the more precious, the more rare.

So let us stand up to applaud anyone who took part in this show.  The 3 fantastic, surprising directors – the level to which Holly Dale had left the bar last year seemed unattainable – to the writers, poets of intimate feelings as ancient elegies rather than just simple screenwriters.  To musicians, able to tell with notes and songs what could not be said with words.  To photographers and editors leaving us speechless.  To costumes, make-up, prop department, location scouts, who set them up, to the guy who brought them  a cup of  warm coffee in the cold of  Ontario autumn…
All those who helped make this show true, above all others.
True but at the same time, poetic.
Thank you.


To the actors, all of them, generous interpreters of characters and personalities. Soul donors. Their talent second only to the devotion with which they have been committed to make Mary, Des, Ben, Nicole, Jess, and Olivia, Brendan, Germaine, Heather, Noemi , Betty …all true.
All of them: Caroline Dhavernas, Richard Short, Jay Ryan, Abigail Winter, Charlotte Sullivan, Rachelle Lefevre, Salvatore Antonio, Karen Le Blanc… All.

To those two brave women who have defied the custom, ignored the easiest way, choosing as the first project to link their name to a story so out of the box, challenging, revolutionary…
Thank You from the heart, Tassie and Amy Cameron.

If Life were a person, Mary Kills People would be its epitaph.
The love verses telling the meaning of an existence.

The season finale did nothing but confirm feelings and emotions that kept us company throughout the whole season.
As in the procession in the woods, protagonists  marched for us with their fragment of story as their legacy.
They marched for us and for Mary.

The entire season was designed as a path of awareness for each one of the characters, from Mary to Des, to Jess, Nicole and Ben.
The patients who we saw dying in the episodes made their farewell a testimony of values, leaving to Mary and Des but also to Nicole and Ben and finally to Jess, a message as a sort of responsibility, arousing not only emotions but deep reflections in each character’s inner being.

During this last day in the finale, we see all protagonists committed, in one way or another, voluntarily or involuntarily, to make life-changing choices, deciding how to fill, frame by frame, that footage that will flow before our eyes in the last moments, choosing how to give worth to life.
It is all in choices and awareness in the path that brings everyone together in the end, in a clearing in the woods, in the light of candles surrounded by marigolds.


Jess, with the delicate but intense touch of Abigail Winter’s talent, surprises us positively, confirming an esteem that is unlikely to be questioned.
She finds out the nature of Mary’s clandestine work. She finds out it in the most brutal way yet she does not bat an eyelid. Her acceptance, which reminds us once more that nature of love is to love, not necessarily to save or understand, is second only to Mary’s candor in opening up to her.
When the situation is desperate and you put a lot on scale, it is not worth wavering and holding back.
So Mary can be sincere and honest and true in confessing her daughter that there is all of herself in what she does and she does not know why nor can she be different – Bravo at the poignant artistic moment of Caroline Dhavernas that goes beyond stealing us a tear. Beyond acting, beyond  awards, beyond TV or maybe giving a new definition of TV entertainment just as the whole show did.
Jess does not need anything else. Nothing more than to know who her mother is, to be able to love her completely, to understand that she is really  loved in turn.
Jess and Mary choose without fear of being themselves and their choice leads them to stand side by side to face together what happens.


Nicole has not always understood Mary’s motivations. Quite the contrary.
Not just because Mary had kept them hidden at first. There, Nicole had been quick and ready to get a clear idea of ​​her sister’s actions but why the reasons, she had not always been able to share.
Embracing enthusiastically Des’ project of the hospice, Nicole too takes her position beside Mary, choosing in turn.
If to be Mary’s sister, if to have the only family left in Mary means to be part of Mary’s life as much as you want her to be part of yours, Nicole is there, she does not hesitate anymore.
With enthusiasm, positive inclination, involvement and “vibes”, Nicole’s path leads her to look forward enriched by her experiences thanks to Mary.


Des … Des is the person who has changed more since the first season.
Eight months of reflection and rethink have given him a great advantage on the way to the  awareness.
He has the clearest ideas and the deepest doubts.
He knows exactly, in every moment of his adventure with Mary, what he is doing and why he is doing it. His awareness gives each of his actions a more meaningful and deeper value.
We must bow to Richard Short, so extraordinarily the Master of this eclectic and multifaceted character, to give him nuances that in the writers’ room they dared not even imagine.
The choice of Des, therefore, with the greater awareness that the events had given him, is more a confirmation than a new choice.
A confirmation linked to a discovery.
The confirmation that he does not need a painful, intimate past to embrace with passion the choice to do what’s good, in a way perhaps still illegal, perhaps unconventional but with no shadow of doubt or fear, right, noble, appropriate.
Choosing what he believes is right inevitably means choosing Mary, is his own fatal flaw. Because Mary is not always aware. Mary is not always fearless. Mary does not always proceed with straight and understandable trajectories.
On the contrary…


Mary is a whirlwind of emotions.  Her apparent coldness is just the garment she uses to cover, protecting herself, an unthinkable vulnerability that comes from an extraordinary emotionality.
Mary is passion, strong and generous in everything she does.
Getting rid of Olivia while staying with Ben, who she loves, seems like a possible goal rather than a mirage. Mary throws herself all without hesitation. She risks and is terrified, not by Olivia, but by what she herself put into play in that operation. However she does not hold back.


When in that car with Olivia’s words, the microphone records that Mary has let Grady bleed to death, it is not the failure of trying to indict Olivia without incriminating herself to tear Mary’s heart and to deliver the knowledge there is always a cost to be paid for the choices made. The bill comes when you least expect it.
Mary, in the car with Ben, is annihilated by pain with no hypocrisy of wanting or being able to justify, because when two people who have pretended and hidden so much from the beginning do decide to be sincere, they change and do it to a true and deep level with no limits.
There is no space, therefore, to drown the truth that brutally tears away what was between them, as the tape that holds the microphone is torn painfully and abruptly from Ben.
Could Mary have chosen differently?
It does not matter.

Planning with Ben in the woods, she chose knowing how much she was putting at risk, though trusting if the plan had worked, so many questions would have been silenced, so many shadows gone, maybe forever.
Wearing the wire in Olivia’s car, she realized at the highest price that the only way to dispel the shadows is to turn on the light, as she had done with Jess.
How she did not succeed with Ben.
If she was ready to pay the price for such a high risk. If she was ready to face such a loss, we believe not.
On the contrary, we believe that the story has still much to tell precisely because it’s Mary who has still so much to say, to understand and to achieve.

So generously committed to helping others give meaning to their life or death, whether one wants it, (fantastic how the two terms express the same concept when related to value and meaning), so taken by sublimating the meanings of others lives, as much as the right to choose how to die can be read as a compensation due for having to separate from affections, Mary unfailingly overlooks her own meanings, wishes and emotions that would enrich with softening tones, that final footage flowing in front of their eyes in the last moments.



Brendan’s farewell ceremony, his death, is almost a warning to Mary – we allow ourselves a standing ovation as deeply as Salvatore Antonio has let the character penetrate within himself to become so intense and extraordinarily touching – a standing ovation to Vlad Alexis too, for making his Germaine intense and truthful, so to highlight Brendan’s character details and nuances.

A warning…

to remind Mary that death is not always or entirely serene. Not just about marigolds and candles.  Sometimes it can be painful and unfair.
Betty’s death was fair and desired, her life had been full and in her eyes, done.
Brendan’s death is right and serene, since he cannot avoid it, he chooses how to live it, filling it with the richness of his affections and fullness of what he has experienced.
How fair, how serene, in comparison, Cho-cho San’s death, on the stage of Madame Butterfly which so surprisingly moved Mary?
Cho-cho San does not want to die. Cho-cho san should not die.
However when the girl’s life had emptied of what gave her meaning, she had no choice.
Because a life without meaning, it is not life.
Cho-cho san challenged her society, the conventions of her world and questioned her belief…
because of Love.
Lost her love, she can die.
She chooses love to give meaning to her life.
Like Betty.
Like Brendan.
Like Ben.


It is surprising that it’s Ben the bearer of the most important message for Mary.
Ben, who for so much time we had difficulty to place. Maybe, or maybe not.
Ben who was there in the shade, uncertain whether to jump to the middle of the stage.
Ben who pretends so well that you never know how much you can trust him.
Ben who does not seem to understand fully and then surprises you by accepting everything at once, redesigning everything because of Mary.
Because he loves her.


Love is worth it being on Mary’s side and we faint every time we see him telling her at that table between a mismatched cup and a doubtful Des, with an intensity that only Jay Ryan could put in that look, overwhelms words saying much, too much more.
Ben fell in love and love gave a different meaning to his life. Love for a woman, not just for what is right and fair
Love made him accept so much, indeed love made him understand so much, accepting was a consequence. Because of love he chose to live with little doubt that there is not necessarily white and black but also a little grey, as all the voices kept whispering on each side of this stage, Love is acceptance.

But in that car, from that cold wire, what Ben heard, went beyond doubt, stained grey of an indelible black.
Ben heard that he has been used. There is no other way to say it.
Used and betrayed.
Love that fills life is not a love that uses. It does not betray you.

On the squalid patio of his camper, Ben – he will understand us and excuse us, Jay Ryan – is Cho-cho San.
While in a clearing they celebrate love that makes peaceful the farewell from life, in the unreal silence of his own clearing, Ben shouts louder than words of Brendan’s poem: death makes no sense if you have not filled your life with meaning.



It matters very little that there is his bourbon or Olivia’s pento in that bottle.
Of course it counts for Mary. It will count a lot for her because the pento or the bourbon will decide the colors of many frames of her footage in her future.

For Ben, however, when he chooses to overflow the content of the bottle, there is no difference.

There is no tomorrow if there is no love.

Pento or bourbon that it is, in that bottle Ben chooses to drown.

Edited by Lisa

Mary Kills People -Season 2 finale part 1 -Come to Jesus

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“The tragedy of this life is not that it ends so soon … but that we wait so long to begin it.”

‘Come to Jesus’ is the perfect title for the day that this fifth episode of the season of Mary Kills People tells us of.

Certainly a total revelation for Ben and in many respects for Des but for Mary more than anyone else.

Just as though they had been given the opportunity to look at a different perspective of their lives, during a single, hectic, intense day, we see our characters experience and show us, unexpected versions of themselves.

Ben smoking, barefoot on Mary’s terrace. Ben thinking about the day before at Joshua’s and talking openly. Ben disarming when confessing to be ready to protect Mary as far as he can, even if it will cost him his job.

He no longer hides.  No longer does he pretend anymore.  He has chosen resolutely that he wants Mary in his life.


With Mary he is himself and he has never been himself before.

Mary offers the life that he never thought he could live when work took all his dedication.

His parents, idyllically close-knit, is a tough comparison to live up to.  How extremely rare and difficult it would be to meet that person, the only one who lights up your eyes, who snatches a smile and steals your thoughts. Always.

Then Mary came.

She, who was so ironically wrong so must necessarily be the right one. The one that gives meaning to every single thing, to have removed sense from everything.

The one with which it is nice to start and finish each day, no matter how difficult it could be.


Des ends up saving Olivia’s life and reflects on how good Mary and he do when they manage to stay out of trouble, when the death they bring into patients’ stories is as good as their salvation, just as for Larissa’s grandmother.  Probably for Mary’s mother, Joy, too.

In the name of what he believes in, in the name of what is pure and right at his eyes, Des feels ready to look confidently to the future.

Maybe for the first time he is not afraid to get involved, he is not afraid of relying on his abilities.  He had become aware that he has “wasted” himself in the past, on too many occasions.

This time his project is too right to be afraid of failing.

Then there is Mary.


When you are strong,  counting only on yourself, you have set the rules that help you to be who you are.

If suddenly these rules are turned to dust and you find yourself pleasantly upset by the events, a man next to you in the morning when you had just said to have messed up everything, making it impossible, being open and honest with each other when both of you were sure it could not happen, the love and trust to seize a place that you had promised to never leave them.

When these are the promises, even the worst day leaves you with a smile because everything has become so beautiful, it must turn right and fine.

Looking at the facts, Mary’s situation is not simple at all of course. Police totally in her tracks.  Olivia who is likely to be a threat worse when she is at their side than when they had her against them, plus an open investigation on Betty’s death, at the hospital.

What’s more, Jess has chosen this moment to grow and learn that those you care about the most, you must love them because you want it, just because you care, without trying to understand them at all costs.


In the same way you must understand that the love others feel for you in turn can be so strongly protective, seeming difficult to understand and share.

Mary who would like to help her understand, starts sharing, does not have time, events are faster, once again, and dictate different need for her actions.

So, in a hurry to Olivia’s place, to save her, of course, because Mary and Des are the good guys, perfectly aware of what is worth to make their line mobile and what is not.


Then, almost as well as running into Ben’s arms, because something on that day was too good to think that it could not be repeated.

However risky it may be and how high the stakes are, Mary must believe that a solution exists.

She must be determined to believe for her, Ben and Des, there is a chance to fix the unhopeful routine which has came along with them for too long.

Mary needs to ask more to life. To have more.

She experienced the reassuring peace of not being alone in the morning, the strength that comes from sharing. She was moved by grandmother’s exhortation of Larissa  – Remember to always love as deeply as you can – and frightened not to have done it in time on her turn, terrified thinking that with Jess it might be too late to repair, to keep her close.

Strong in her new awareness, Mary can no longer ignore it.

To open to emotions is to expose oneself, obviously. With Jess, with Ben. But without exposing herself, not giving them the opportunity to get close, to be touched by them, get warmed up by them, what else counts?!

This is why this time, in her thoughts, it is really worth risking.

Eight months ago, with Grady on one side and the police on the other, risk had been very high, the stake so high as to make the plan itself terrifying, kind of make it or break it. Mary’s cold calculation and Ben’s feelings, rewarded her boldness.

Today the situation suggests that it is not too simple.


Stakes are exponentially higher, with Des who has already been in jail and Ben putting his job and integrity at risk.

Yet the greatest risk of failure in the plan Mary will explain to Ben and Des, is neither prison nor work.

The three of them are betting something that would change meaning of their lives.

Once they get which things really matter, – how many facets to Come to Jesus, to this title! How many meanings to every little gesture, every expression and every word on this day! – After they taste how beautiful a life worth living can be – even Larissa’s belly throws a message of awareness and expectation about the future! – After they have displaced this veil of discontent and resignation and to have tried what it means to hope and trust, neither Mary nor even Ben and Des, can think of giving it up.


Des has his project, the means to finally be proud of himself. Ben has Mary, his redemption from such loneliness, the warmth of finally being himself. Mary has broken walls and barriers and wants to fight for the contact, too long denied. With Ben, with daughters.

We’ll know in the season finale if the plan to defeat Olivia and mislead police will be successful.

What will happen next? It’s just  another beautiful ride to share.

What will be the price to pay? Will it be a price worth paying?


Nicole’s word of warning to Mary, in the opening of the episode, sound now with deep, meaningful nuances

“You just have to decide at some point, how much are you willing to lose for all this”


Edited by Lisa

Mary Kills People – Ride or Die

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Talking about Mary Kills People Greg Bryk brilliantly said: “This show is special. Heart so naked. We are all alone, together “.

We have already said it and today, after the tenth episode, the fourth of this wonderful second season, we feel like saying it again. Greg could not have chosen better words to define this show capable of telling feelings, emotions and conflicts so deep and intense. So true.

They are all alone, exposed and wounded, in this Ride or Die.
Des has to deal with the awareness of having made dirty, without remedy, something that he considered pure and ennobling.
The hand that destroys the line of good and evil perfectly knows all that has broken cannot be repaired neither on the table, nor in life.
Moral integrity was swept away in one stroke, like sugar.
You cannot  free yourself of your actions by stripping as you do with clothes, nor by destroying the poison after the bad use has been made of it.
There seems to be no consolation to Des’ sorrow.

Ben is tender in his need to know that Mary is not as bad as he tells her, that she is not lost forever. He is too upright, too pure even to think of being in love with a person who is perverse and immoral. He struggles from within to slam the door to Mary, even if you see in his eyes he believes her when she claims not to have killed Travis. However, he cannot allow her to make his life murky, he moves in the right and the line Des has swept away has been for too long everything he referred to, what he has devoted his life to and he does not feel ready to wipe it away without a reason.
Always moving in a world filled by pretence and lies, the certainty of what was right was his compass which allowed him not to feel perverse in turn to deceive so openly to others.


Mary’s vulnerability touches the deepest chords of his being and he must be force himself, telling her “Go”, driven by the need not to know himself lost in turn.

Mary’s compass has never been the law, what is written on paper. Yet what she has done has always been motivated by a deep-rooted sense of right.
Until now.
We did what we had to do” are her favorite words, as Des tells her, because what they have done to patients has always been, without a shadow of a doubt, for the good of the patients themselves.
Until now.
With Travis’ death Mary’s certainties crumble like the glass of pentobarbital on Des’ chopping board, shattered by the awareness of not having acted for  the good.
It is obvious that she always thought she acted for the best but not even the need to protect her daughters is to mitigate the guilt of having made a mistake.
Even just not to trust, maybe, because the alternative offered by Ben could be valid.
Mary acted following her only known rule, never trusting and the price to pay was very high this time.
Coping with the immorality of the accomplished gesture is not enough.


Losing Ben without appeal, renouncing the only, maybe selfish, source of happiness, the only breach open in years of solitude, is perhaps the worst joke.
She, who had always felt for the others a bit like Germaine’s giraffe, capable of “achieve things out of reach”, now does not recognize herself, she does not know if the game was worth it.

They are all broken, our protagonists, victims of the acts that they were forced to perform.

The turbulence experienced by Jess and Naomi, the difficulty of obtaining from the reciprocal relationship what they seek to make, it creates a picture of greater despair and distrust.


Then comes Joshua.
“Joshua Yang, 21, dying of bowel cancer” is all he has to say about himself.
Des even accuses him of not being up to the other “patients” met so far:
“No, no, no, no, no. You know what, Josh? .I’ve met a lot of people in my time, and they’re largely inspirational and spiritual. They face the end with fortitude. They cherish the time that remains.”
Yet it is Joshua, for whom despair had made him not able to fight for what it is worth, the one who seems cannot suck the little bit of marrow left to live.

Joshua dies and with his death saves everyone.

Mary and Des come back to deal with the raw awareness that saving others is concrete in loving them. In making the gestures needed to give meaning and dignity to other’s life, and death.


At the bedside of Joshua, where on one side parents rips our hearts, especially this mother with that painful image of a modern “Pietà”, gives account and honors the pain of the loss of those we love, Mary and Des find themselves back, returning to be true to themselves – Thank You Brendan .
They find the main way back, maybe not always straight, maybe will not cross only legality territories but it is certainly the right path, the only one worth travelling.
He is why we do this

They are not alone, this time.
Courage, determination and the pain of Joshua don’t save only Mary and Des.  In the most unexpected moment and way, they save Ben’s life and feelings, giving him all the answers he had not been able to find by himself.
Instinct pushed him to Mary, ethics to pursue her and Joshua’s death silences any doubt, frees him from any hesitation.
It is not only Joshua’s pain and despair that heals our character’s wounds.  These are the gestures with which Joshua, before dying, gives meaning to his short life, makes it complete and happy, making it impossible for Mary, Des and Ben to ignore the boy’s legacy.

With no more discouragement, the meeting with Kaley gives Joshua the strength to say goodbye aware he had not lived in vain.  What a great, noble, generous service Des makes him, as providentially Cupid, despite the grip of pain around his own heart.


Joshua opening his heart to Kaley, being true to his feelings no matter what because, as Racine wrote honoring tragedies’protagonists  “Qui n’a plus qu’un moment à vivre, n’a plus rien à dissimuler,” he rekindles in Mary and Des the awareness of the solemnity of their task. No matter that their commitment is renewed on the ground, in a bathroom, rather.

For Ben, now that he has truly understood, now that he has made a choice he cannot ignore, all that remains is to give value to this choice, honoring Joshua’s message of hope.


The words Mary and Ben exchange sitting on the steps in Mary’s backyard, are the most passionate declaration of love which we have been allowed to be witnesses to in a really long time.

“I just watched you kill someone”

“I’m never gonna stop”

To say it with the words of another postcard quote: Love is Not “If” or “Because”. Love is “Anyway” and “Even Though” and “In Spite of”

Priceless the whole moment is sweetly commented by the wonderful You by Kyson:

No man’s an island when he’s had this conversation

No man’s in forest even if he tried to be one

I’ve seen your insights, it’s colorful

But you’re not an island if you try to be one with me


Edited by Lisa

Mary Kills People – Twin Flames

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So you’re just gonna swoop in and save me?”                   

“I guess so.”


 “Des, no one can save her from herself but from you.”

This episode of Mary Kills People essentially revolves around Mary’s need to be saved or, at least, around those who love her more and their wish of saving her.

Ben, to be honest, has already saved her.  We have already written it and are redrafting the concept.

He has never saved her because Mary’s life is in danger as the risk, for Mary, was always calculated.

Whenever Ben’s path crosses Mary’s, one chance opens up to have a way out of the spiral of ambiguity and danger from which she seems instead.  Inevitably she is drawn and sucked.

You do not have to do it anymore, case is closed.”

This he told her on the beach in the finale of the first season when, showing her the damaging picture he did not attach to the proof, as much he hadn’t attached all their conversations, he proved to have perfectly  understood the truth about the nature of her activities and the connections between Mary, Des, Grady and the terminally ill.

He made a choice.

Something in Mary struck him so much that he chose to believe there were something good and right in what she was doing, so much that it worth it protecting her. Saving her from Grady, from an indictment, no matter what.

Mary deserved to be saved.

Eight months have passed and Ben has not changed one iota.

He finds her out on the subject as he investigates a house, seeing her stealthily sneaking a very suspicious  bottle of rum in her house.  She asks him to throw the man out which he obeys not battering an eyelid.

When the reason for everything is unveiled, his reaction is one of those that makes his armour shine, the Knight that he is.


“I will deal  with Olivia…It’s what I do… Go home. Live your life”

Had the mould to have a person like Ben been broken and if he was not so hooked by Mary, there would be a line out of that camper. Granted.

 Because Ben does not reproach, he does not criticize, he does not judge.   Her goals understood or not, he simply accepts Mary and is aware, perhaps more than her, of how the situation is really messed up and dangerous.  He has the means of saving her, pull her out of the mess she has slipped into.

By asking her to follow him to the station, once again he gives more profound facets than the obvious ones to the meaning of rescue her.

Not only trying to protect her from Olivia but the chance of taking another path, doing the right thing, crossing that line back.

How strong is Mary’s temptation to surrender to the way offered by Ben? How intense is the desire to trust him?

 “Maybe I ran into him for an option”

She tells Des with the need to be true deep in her voice.

The story, for now, takes another turn when the episode ends with Travis dead in the back seat of Mary’s car.

Travis died because Des poisoned him.


 Des, who Annie catches dashing off. Des, who with his strong ethics, has never had a doubt or a perplexity about what is moral and what is not, about when to break the law is not to do something wrong and what limit instead does not go wrong … He poisons Travis so that Mary can’t kill him by herself..

 Another rescue, certainly different in the dynamics, but totally identical in the ultimate goal to save Mary, Not only from an imminent danger, but more and more from the impossibility of being saved.

There is a common urgency in Ben and Des’ attitude towards Mary. The will to protect her from the thought of being alone to face what she has to face.

Two really different personalities, two forms of love that are not really comparable, yet, at the showdown, both do not hesitate to question their beliefs, to expose themselves, to keep her safe from that feeling of never recovering, with which she seems to inevitably dance like someone, fascinated by the flames. She stops, instead, in place of fleeing.

Mary is safe. For now.

Ben has to deal with the ruinous course of his investigation.

Des has to face demons that his conscience won’t allow him to hide from himself.


But Mary is safe.

 Thanks to Des and Ben she returns home and hugs Jess because nothing is worthier than family in her heart.

We don’t know for certain if Mary is or not aware of the value of her friends actions, of why they put so much at risk.

We do not know how much she realizes that all the care and the courage and determination, have been for her.

Simply because in their eyes she deserves it. In their thoughts she has a right to her chance of happiness.

There is such a tenderness and a vulnerability in Ben and Des, when Mary is involved, which, while in the story it amplifies her own vulnerability, in our eyes it gives credit to Jay Ryan and Richard Short of an intensity a depth and a balance of interpretation that only the ones most capable of empathy can find within themselves.


As for Mary … Mary has never been saved before. From noone. Ever.

She had to help her mother to commit suicide to stop her suffering.

She had to raise her sister because without a father and with that mother, who else could’ve taught Nicole to live?!

She was so motherly with Kevin who maybe filled her dinner table, but certainly did not clear her mind of worries.

She is so used to not letting go, not counting on anyone, only trusting her strength and options.  She does not even know how to handle either Des’ generosity or Ben’s momentum.

She has always been alone. To think she has to get by herself has always been natural to her.

Loneliness has been her strength.


Words are not enough here to tell how Caroline Dhavernas is masterful in making this woman alive and true from within, so incredibly concealed but multifaceted.

Everything about her palpitates Mary’s pulse and there will be no recognition for which she will not be proudly deserved for one of the most beautiful tv characters we’ve seen in a while..

 Mary is alone which she thinks is the only way to go.

This is why Brendan and Germaine upset her so much by undermining her certainties.

“We were each other’s twin flame.”

“Mirror souls.”

 It does not matter that they are no longer together in a romantic sense. It does not matter that they were not perfect for each other. There are neither perfect people nor perfect relationships.


What exists, in this season even more than in the previous all the characters seem to whisper it insistently to Mary, what exists is the consoling force that comes from bonds, the cathartic power that comes from not feeling alone.

 One of those quotes printed on posters and postcards which says that

‘You Cannot Save People. You Can Only Love Them.’

 It’s all in Ben and Des’ choices. In Brendan and Germaine’s, all in loving without guarantees but still loving, the message of salvation that everybody wishes Mary to get and to treasure, to give meaning to the pain around her which sometimes seems too much for her too.

Pain, like mess, cannot be avoided.

 However it can be shared because you are not alone.


 “There are certain people that just keep coming back into your life no matter what happens.”

 We must be good at choosing when to give them a chance to stay.


Edited by Lisa

Mary Kills People – The Connection

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“You must have lived to be able to die”

The first season of Mary Kills People had already taught us so much about life by pretending to talk about death.

After the first two episodes of this second series, it is affirmed, without fear of being denied, that it’s life that is the true protagonist of this brave series, properly ambitious in teaching is what living really is through showing us the thousand aspects of dying.

All of Mary and Des’ patients love life intensely.

If they did not love it so deeply, it would not count as much the way they choose to leave it.


Each of them, instead, gives extreme value to their last moments as a seal to the way they lived.

It is powerful and significant that Cho Cho-San is entrusted with the task of moving Mary into her first experience at the Opera.

The woman who renounces to live when what gives meaning to her life fails…

Because you must have lived to be able to die.

You must have allowed the ink of emotions to fill the pages of memory. You must have left indelible imprints in others lives.  For the eternity.

There is no “Finale” if there has not been the story.

Des and Joshua meeting is intense and suggestive. One of those meetings which left their mark and you have to watch it again and again.  Even if Richard Short and André Dae Kim steal a tear from you every single time or maybe because of it.


We are in awe of Des’  deep wisdom when he encourages the boy to live life. Death, after all, does not have to be an escape from life.

“There’s still time for you to learn and grow”.

Time does not count, but intensity does.

It’s never too late, as Joshua believes, to live, or better, to share love.

“Tell your parents. Tell Kaley-Christin-whatever-her-name-is that you like her …. Just go and live a little more. “

Here’s what life is.


Here’s what Mary Kills People wants to tell us about with Estelle’s farewell to life or the one of the Opera lover who knowingly tells Mary: “Love does not kill. It’s life itself “. 

Time does not count, events do not count. Only people count. Just being “connected”, bound to each other (Ah Morgan, Morgan, how much you taught us!)

To understand that you are not alone is the key which gives fullness and meaning to life. The sense of happiness ultimately.

Everything that happens has a different value if shared. Who is able to be happy alone? The richness of the past is in the memory of those with whom we lived it.

Estelle teaches this to Mary and Nicole, telling them how she shared with her sister her entire life, making it incomparably precious.


The moment the woman gives to Mary and Nicole is unique and precious too.

Estelle, like other patients of  Mary, entrusts her the last message, the last word of the story.

And it is almost a warning, very strong. It reaches Nicole clear and direct. Nicole cannot ignore it, can do nothing but to live it. Immediately.

Estelle’s last moment touched Nicole. Baton has been passed. Neither her life nor her death have been in vain.

Nicole cannot disregard Estelle’s legacy, it cannot be ignored.

Rather, she honors her by trying to get to know the inner Mary, to understand her even.

Wishing to be able to help her sister very strongly because in the end everyone, even the strongest, needs someone to help us.

“But at the end of the day who’s helping you?”


It’s not easy however to help Mary.

Her mother’s inability to get help in life, left her as the best chance to help her to be in death. This feeling has maybe killed in Mary what shakes Jess, enliven Nicole and enlighten Des.


To trust and be trusted.

Acting like the lone wolf that Nicole scolds her for and to refuse at all costs to show her vulnerability,  is what makes Mary the most vulnerable, exposed to risks and fears that are too big to be faced alone.

After removing Des and keeping Nicole at a distance, it’s Ben, met in the most difficult and dangerous moment, to embody a warning perhaps even stronger than the message of Estelle herself.


At Mary’s side in the uncertainty of the situation is emerging the wish that it is not too late for her to understand. It is never too late to learn. To live. To stop thinking she must be so inevitably alone.

“Why did you ask me here, Mary?”

“I did not want to be alone.”    Ben & Mary, Mary Kills People, Season 1, Wave the White Flag


Edited by Lisa

Mary Kills People – Raised by Wolves

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It is a weird thing, trust, a delicate feeling. Whether you give or receive, you have to handle it with care because it takes very little to damage it and only a little more to break it.
When that happens, when you stay there, knowing that something that could have been will never be, fragments strike you like the reflections of sun on the water caressed by wind.

It is such a precarious feeling and it is said to be easier to love than to trust and to have someones confidence is an honor more precious than being loved.

Raised with Wolves’ absolute protagonist is trust.
Trust that you would give but too much pain keeps you from daring.
Trust that your logic would never give but the heart has already granted, no matter what.
Trust that has always been there, you’ve just never thought to call into question and that, however, is likely to crumble apart, crumbling even you.

I don’t want to sound corny though, watching Mary Kills People one episode after another, I am invariably struck by how much and how well everything contributes to a riveting, engaging narrative.
Examples are in every scene, proving mastery and dedication of all the professionals who contribute to wrap such a beautiful product.
Grady waiting for Mary framed by water transparency or Ben talking on his cell with the picturesque lake on his back, are just two examples of the will to engage the viewer in sharing not only a tale but the emotional warmth of the scene.

You can breathe harmony and mutual understanding behind the narrative, even in conflicts.
The continuity of direction by Holly Dale, undoubtedly ensures consistency to the canvas, from background to single details. Characters, scenery, lines, lights and sounds, everything spreads real emotion, rough, conflicting and uncertain, just like those in real life.
The most intense tones are those generated by conflicts and hardest conflicts are those within each character.

Trusting another person means giving that person the power to break your heart and hoping they won’t.

This hope is so fragile in Des… He is determined to avoid Mary, to give her the chance to break his heart.
Fear of betrayal, by the only person who counts on him, is so big that he prefers to play himself in the role of the villain, compromising its principles and let it all go to hell, not to have to test his friend loyalty.


Ben, on the contrary, wants to conquer Mary’s trust, intimately gratified by her cry for help.
Deserving, perhaps, even more than conquering, aware that he had tried to betray her confidence before earning it.
Then he says what he shouldn’t say, does what he shouldn’t do, goes where he shouldn’t go, as he didn’t know whether it is strongest the desire that Mary trusts him, or the confirmation that he can trust her.

His feelings for Mary, the irrational instinct to protect her from her own vulnerabilities, are so strong and pressing that, for Mary, he is willing to go to the limit of what his ethics allows. Maybe he would be ready to cross some limit too because of Mary. After all, Ben is aware he has got her and understands her reasons. However, knowing what Mary is doing, he disapproves, though, as only one who loves can do, he is ready to accept it…Indeed, he has already done so, almost earlier than Nicole (Hats off to Charlotte Sullivan’s extraordinary skill, delivering a character so complete and complex, with just a few brushes as an expert painter).

Ben accepted Mary without wonder and shyness, he doesn’t let what Mary does to be a reason to hold back his desire to be there for her.
He doesn’t allow Mary to be defined by her mistakes…

Ben’s ability to see the good in Mary is amazing in spite of the truth of what she does, which is, for him, burning, crystal and inescapable.

Ben seems ready to do anything for Mary. He admits with candor to Frank at the district.

For some reason she chose him. Him, the son of a happy couple who share a serene retirement in Florida. He, who was brought up on good and right, cannot hold back.
He cannot remain emotionless to what he saw in Mary, when, alone and desperate, she came knocking on his door.
That evening, two solitary beings took refuge in one another.

He is so sure of the vulnerability he saw behind her strength. A strength that only fear and pain feed.
He is so sure as to follow his instinct leading him to her side. He moves us most with the sincerity and tenderness with which he proposes the trip to Florida with Mary or with looks and the sweetness he reserves for her,later, at every Nicole sympathetic allusion.


This is why the disappointment of then, it hurts so much ….
That’s why Ben does not have the clarity of mind nor the calm to understand that Mary is going to tell him exactly what he has just found out.
Mary’s “I want to be honest with you” has a tremendous, unappreciated value.

Mary confirms his instinct, Mary trusts him.

But in Ben’s ear, on the pontoon, there is only the cry of pain of his broken heart and Mary’s sincerity, the reciprocated trust, is lost in that echo of pain.

Ben was freaked out by Mary’s vulnerability and fell in love.
Jumping to conclusions during the phone call, believing everything he had imagined about her suddenly wrong, miserably shatters the confidence he felt, the trust he thought she deserved.

Even before being betrayed by Mary, Ben is betrayed by the collapse of his expectations. Doesn’t wait, doesn’t listen, he overreacts.

It’s too painful to think that Mary is not as fragile as she looked in his arms.
In front of her, he was incredibly himself.
Too much pain to think that she has not reciprocated.
It is not the thought of a Mary “worse” than he thought to crush Ben’s heart and logic,
it is the horror at the thought of exposing himself, to have been true in front of someone capable instead of pretending emotions, fragility and involvement.
Once undermined the trust in Mary’s emotional honesty, there is no room for his feelings.
Ben goes away, leaving Mary torn and lonely.



That’s how Mary has always seen herself. How she always felt.
The immensity of pain inside her to suggest that such an immense sorrow could not be shared, could not be understood and loneliness was the remedy to survive.
Keeping all this pain inside, though, because your sister does not deserve it, your husband would not understand (and that’s how he became an ex) and taking this almost clinical detachment from any emotional involvement, makes you tougher, preventing you from trust issues, pushing people away, even daughters.
The fear of allowing the ones she loves to come too close to her runs deep and corrodes her soul like a burning fire.

Mary can only rely on herself.

An indelible pain which will never die, as she says, has been caused by those who loved her most.
She is no longer used, not capable and too afraid to trust. She would not trust Ben and she is committed to strenuously keep him away since the beginning, at her wake up in the motel.
She slams in his face that he cannot be trusted because he is the one always working, the one pretending.
She shows coldness, distance. She knows how much any weakness could cost.
And trust would be for her an unforgivable weakness.
The temptation to break her haven of loneliness’ barriers is great, the price is likely to be very high.


Mary would like to give up, oh how she would.
Close her eyes, shoulders enclosed by his arms as when he taught her to aim, protected.
“To properly aim you have to control subconscious”, he said.
Surrounded by him, her inner demons silent at last, she felt herself, without fear and the shot was direct and precise.
I wonder what she thought.
Taking a deep breath, the warmth of Ben on arms and back, she must have thought how everything would have been easier, in that warmth, finally protected.


However Mary seems to resist there and later, during the walk.

Yet, Ben’s protective desire to crumble Mary’s solitude broke through, the sincerity of his feelings not unheard.
She needs just a little encouragement by Nicole as she had already settled inside her that Ben and what he means, is worth the risk.

Sadly just to hear his voice in delivering her real name, it’s enough to know her choice was late.
Nothing ever easy for Mary.
The resolution to confide, to share everything with Ben, not just the loneliness, is a difficult and important step, so bitterly reviled by the simple lack of timing.
Not enough strength to grab Ben, to stop him, yelling at him that what he found out was exactly what she went to tell him. That it’s what she meant her “to be honest”.

He should just listen to her.
She is so resigned to being disappointed by those who love her that she doesn’t even try, does not believe it.
It is easier to keep protecting herself, to see in Ben’s reaction a cold pro calculation rather than his disappointed irrational bitterness.
Easier to whisper to herself “I told you so,” and letting him leave, rather than risk of not being trusted once she explained.

Rejecting because of the dread of not being accepted.

Expectations play a role in the episode secondary to that played by the trust.
Ben and Mary, they wound each other because of the fear of being hurt, because of hesitation in believing, afraid that trusting each other will mean to concede too much into their vulnerability.
To protect themselves, expose both of them to a bigger pain.

To trust means exposure to risk of suffering, of course.
Those we love can hurt us more than anyone else, even not on purpose.
What Ben and Mary must both ask themselves, from the depth of their solitude, is whether the warmth of the presence of each other in the other’s life is worth the risk of getting burned.


Edited by Lisa

Mary Kills People – Wave the White Flag

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“There is beauty in the Inevitable”

It’s impressive that each episode of Mary Kills People takes the audience to a gradually deeper level of knowledge of the events and characters.
It is as if they had shown us a large canvas from the beginnning, already complete, which the evolution of the story makes us focus right down to details.
We could easily define this third episode as the best seen so far, except that, as said, it helps to create a bigger picture, every detail to enrich the overall vision so, at the end of the six, each one will be quite an important chapter of the wonderful story.

In “Wave the white flag” reactions to events are like layers of an onion on character’s skin, fallen away, one after the other, exposing all the emotions, the truth, the reasons which move each one of the protagonists in this choral tale.
Meeting Irene and Declan in the opening moment, Mary and Des are enchanted by peacefulness and love they perceive as an aura around the tight-knit couple. The shared happiness they exhibit in spite of everything has a special value for Mary who’s maybe feeling the vibes of an old nostalgia for never having experienced something even close to that emotion, softened by the knowledge, mixed with hope, that maybe sometimes, somewhere, it truly exists.

The overture sequence Lime and Coconut alone brings about praise and plaudits to the wonderful Holly Dale for the skill with which she introduces lights and contrast, peacefulness and chaos and anticipates much of the episode’s tone, ‘tuning’ viewers as to what is about to happen.


It is a narrative choice which is really very effective to put so much sunshine and serenity – the fantastic music score helps a lot – at the beginning of a story that is rather turbulent and confused as though the grey of the sky rocked by the wind before a storm.
The cinematography also admirably tells of this conflict, from the exuberance of Irene and Declan’s garden, to the coldness of the beach where Mary meets Ben for the first of three contacts, each one more illuminating than the others.


Characters are stretched like violin strings, moment by moment, raw nerves at every clash they share.
That instinctive awareness, misty but strong, in all that is happening today will complicate tomorrow life.
They each do their best to keep the helm and not get carried away by the storm, not always easy though.

Far from it.

It is not always even possible.

Des knows it when he sees the routine that has been scrupulously built and shared with Mary, creak under the weight of unexpected events and Mary’s dramatic reaction to them.
Bravo, from deep down, to Richard Short who introduces us, with unusual and uninhibited skill, a character multifaceted, true and credible both in sarcastic tones and in the dramatic moments, all intensely and brilliantly delivered.


Frank knows it as much as he knows Ben and is able to read his soul sooner than the colleague reads his own feelings. His affection is so sincere that he has not the courage to intervene, but you could lose yourself in the depth and intensity of Lyriq Bent’s eyes when, at the hospital, he puts in his stare all the sincere concern, without judgments or convictions, for what Ben is living.

Jess knows it. Jess who does not see any hope for her heartfelt need of certainties.
The people she loves seem so ready to hurt her. She sees the storm everywhere around her, not only in the sky.

Even Grady knows, the merciless Grady, frenzied and moody figure created by the talented genius of Greg Bryk. Things could get messy from time to time and his coldness and maniacal ability to control each factor may not be enough.


Mary knows of course. Oh yes, she knows …
She has already lost more than a protective layer, maybe she never had so many, feels the storm coming more intensely because she lives the storm inside, holding it within, even before impacting events that trigger it.

Mary is storm.



Ben is the one who notices it.
Ben who fits into the story so deviously, a liar and who reveals a conflicting personality at the very least so fascinating, a moral so pure as to make him tenderly vulnerable.

Ben reads Mary.
He reads the hidden implications in the innermost defenses and he is bewitched.
He knows so little that he should not get her so well, he could not.

But Mary has exposed herself to him. She was softly herself when she saw only a chance encounter, a sudden contact, intense, though not dangerous.
In his fake, dingy apartment, Ben was someone to tell everything to without fear, knowing that he would not have time or no other to witnesses her narration.

The storm that Mary hurls at Ben is truly and deeply destabilizing. Whatever happens, it changes you forever.


Ben makes no effort to do his job honestly. He is honest.
He is investigating Mary, does not tell fibs to himself nor justify himself to her.


He is consistent in his soul even as he is overwhelmed by the swirl of emotions that Mary arouses. No armor but certainly reminds us of a knight of yesteryear, always ready to do his duty and to protect Mary without thinking for a moment.
Although Mary is the one who errs.

Even those who make mistakes deserve protection.

Even those who are fragile make mistakes and Ben saw the fragility of Mary. He perceived, felt, touched every moment Mary was close to him.
The fragility and the conflict.
The fragility of Mary, Ben cannot resist.

The most beautiful scene of the episode, the narrative moment that changes the whole story is definitely in the hospital when Ben, anything but lost, has no hesitation in grasping the arm of Mary and writes his number to be called for anything. For anything at all. The sight of Mary shocked, yet another perception of her fragility, gives him the strength to take a step that is kind of an irrevocable choice.
Moved, touched, bewitched by this messy creature who he didn’t ask to meet but has, Ben feels he wants to be there for her.


He decided to do so.

To reach Mary, later, at the motel is only a consequence of the steps taken in that corridor.
He does not respond with words but by kissing her when she asked why he had reached her.
With tenderness and intensity of what seems like the first kiss, which they missed in the heat of their first encounter, he tells her he is there because he cares about her, because the attraction has quickly given way to something more engaging, more intimate, deeper.
The conflict that Ben will have to live, for those steps in the hospital corridor and the sweet hugging at the motel, does not currently have any importance.
What matters right now, is that the raw, fragile Mary feels lonely.


He wants her to know she is not alone.

And Mary?

Maybe Mary fell asleep in Ben’s arms after making love. Maybe she’d have dreamed of a lush garden and the color of the flowers, the warmth of the sun on the skin and the happiness in the heart …



Edited by Lisa