But if your selfish personal need for justice ends up biting us all in the ass - literally or metaphorically - you’re going to regret it. What Michonne should really do is say to him and Tara, “Look, I get it, you’re pissed and want revenge. That’s dumb and inconsistent with her character thankfully, she comes to her senses - and true to Daryl’s character, he respects her decision. Why isn’t this the moment when Michonne decides to stand by her man? The only reason she even left Alexandria was because she “needed to see” the Sanctuary for herself. Inexplicably, it’s Rosita, not Michonne, who immediately objects to going rogue and says she believes in Rick. Pick a lane and stay in it.Īs plans go, Eugene’s seems way better than Daryl’s, who finally reveals his strategy: smash a hole into the Sanctuary with the trash truck, let the dead stumble inside for a Savior buffet, and hope the workers will make it out safely. I don’t really care which team you play for at this point, Eugene. The next, he’s letting one of Negan’s wives guilt trip him for bailing on their poison-pill plan. What’s most annoying is Dwight’s ping-ponging between “being Negan” and thinking of AHK, as he calls Rick’s coalition, as more than just “traveling companions.” One minute, he’s strapping Sasha’s iPod onto a remote-controlled glider to draw the herd away. Once you do those things, you become those things.” If he’s all about his own survival, and Negan has tasked him with finding the mole, he shouldn’t think twice about exposing Pizza Face’s “betrayals and Judas-ness.” Perhaps it’s Dwight’s warning that’s haunting him: “You don’t got blood on your hands, yet.
What’s more puzzling is why Eugene doesn’t rat Dwight out. That’s some cold caca, dude.Įugene seems to walk the talk when he confronts Dwight about being the traitor, and surprisingly, Dwight owns it. Sorry, Mags, but Eugene is keeping Doc Carson in-house just in case he gets a boo-boo someday. While his unidentified infection spreads, he tries to play the God card with Eugene: Sure, you’re a man of logic, but if the dead can rise, why not believe in a higher power? Credit Eugene for honest self-assessment: “I am a small person who does not stick his neck out for anyone else.” Later, he’s even more emphatic about where his loyalties lie, running into Gabe’s room with a wild rant about how he will obey Negan because that’s his best shot at survival, and that living, not heroism, is his biological imperative. Maybe I’m jaded from eight seasons of zombie mayhem, but at this point, I don’t care whether Eugene turns into a hero or walker food. Survival for Eugene means a constant tally of the odds, an ever-shifting assessment of what - and who - he needs in order to avoid “the stranglehold of cold teeth/tongues.” But while Eugene’s machine-gun banter works in spots as comic relief, and probably reads well on the page, an hour’s worth of his hand-wringing and “giggle juice” swigging gets old fast. Here’s a guy who’s on the spectrum, with smarts to spare but no clue about social behavior.
The impossibly verbose mullet man is entertaining in small doses, and the story line that ends with the admission that he doesn’t have a clue about a cure for zombie-itis is compelling. Most of the action is focused on Eugene, a character who serves as a great example of when comic books fail to translate to the screen. Only the negotiation scene between Rick and Jadis salvages this set-up episode from being a complete waste of time. Shouldn’t be hard to make that more interesting than CSPAN, right? Yet alas, an hour of watching Eugene’s inner struggle, another ill-advised revenge plan, and the unusual menu of activities at the Junkyard Four Seasons proves to be an utter snooze. Must have nodded off during that outstandingly dull episode of a show about the collapse of society in a world overrun by an undead horde.