| Sascha (E-Mail nur eingeloggt Sichtbar) am 12.12.2017 19:23 Uhr |
Das kam überraschend. Ich hatte neulich nur die AVClub-Überschrift
gelesen ("Halt And Catch Fire finds its heart, and breaks ours")
und mich zum Glück nicht weiter spoilern lassen.
"And then Gordon dies. As Halt did when handling Ryan’s death last
season, what could come off as manipulative is instead rooted so
completely in people we’ve come to know and care about, and is all
the more devastating because of it. Since Gordon’s diagnosis with
a degenerative brain condition (caused, it’s implied, by a lifetime
of the very tinkering he’s doing all episode here), Halt has
incorporated his illness into the show with the grace that’s
characterized its storytelling for the past three seasons. While
giving a major character a major illness isn’t done for no payoff,
the nature of Gordon’s condition seemed likely to remain a chronic
but liveable one, at least until the series ends three episodes
from now. It’s difficult sometimes to separate the emotional affect
of a fictional death from the craft with which it’s told. Gordon’s
death here is unexpected, shocking even. But it’s also handled so
with such obvious care by "Who Needs A Guy"s triumvirate of writer
Lisa Albert, director Tricia Brock, and cinematographer Evans Brown
that it plays out like the fondest and most affectionate of goodbyes
at the same time." (AVClub)
I'm not crying, you're crying.
"Gordon, fretfully preparing for Katie’s arrival for a date night,
sees Donna walk into his house in the mirror behind him. We’d just
seen her confrontation with Joe and are left to imagine that she’s
come to Gordon, if not to reconcile romantically, then to talk over
their still-strong love for each other. Following his former wife
to the living room, there are lens flares glowing on the periphery
of the frame, unobtrusive enough to suggest mere artistic flourish
rather than a visual manifestation of whatever episode is firing
off inside Gordon’s head. He tracks her to the kitchen, and sees a
younger Donna (season one Donna) lovingly feeding their young
daughters breakfast. Then Gordon hears the melody he’s had stuck in
his head, the one neither he nor Katie could place, and it turns out
to be 'Baby Mine' from Dumbo, which, as we see in the last sight
Gordon Clark remembers, was a lullaby Donna used to sing to Haley.
Scoot McNairy’s slow, haunting walk through Gordon’s empty house in
pursuit of his past is achingly sweet, and sad, his last thought as
the lights in his peripheral vision blot out that of Donna and Haley
of this one, glowing image of mingled regret and love."
Hab das natürlich auch sofort bemerkt, hätte aber nie gedacht, das
er so unversehens stirbt. Habe an einen weiteren Anfall gedacht. (-_-,)
