Post by shmeep on Jul 23, 2005 20:25:34 GMT -5
This is for Mags, who requested that I bring it over from the other board. My take on most of Four Feet Under:
Four Feet Under is full of little pivotal moments that stand out, furthering the development of all the characters and establishing the foundation of the entire series.
The Jim/Marty conflict grows more uncomfortable as they face off over their differing opinions of the direction in which each wants to take the case. When Jim focuses on the family and has the dog exhumed, Marty delivers my favorite Russo wisecrack to date:
Jim—What is it?
Marty—Bin Laden.
Then Marty chides Jim on wasting time that could have potentially been spent saving the kid’s life.
Jim, in turn, puts down Marty’s interview with the child molester, Kent Newell. (“I think if you asked him if he was a gorilla, he’d answer yes.”) He even goes a step further and re-interviews the man, making it obvious to everyone that the confession wasn’t any good and that Marty and Tom had gone way off track. When Marty, to save face, tells Jim that Newell is still a contender and not to get smug, the ensuing exchange cracks me up, although I don’t know why Jim said such an obviously untrue thing.
Jim—You could know me 50 years, Marty, and you’d never see me smug.
Marty—I’m seeing it now.
On a side note, I loved the moment, during the first interview with Kent Newell, when Jim is shown with his back to the mirror, listening. When Marty bangs his hand on the desk, Jim jumps. This, more than anything, shows that Marty is using an ineffective technique in his interview with a mentally-challenged man. Jim wouldn’t have been so startled by the noise had he thought being rough was a good way to go. He would have been expecting something like that and would have braced himself for it.
Another complex relationship is given more light. Karen has already come to trust Jim, but is starting to take some heat for siding with him against Marty and Tom. This puts her in an extremely uncomfortable spot, particularly when Marty calls her Jim’s “Bottom bitch.” A lot is going on during this exchange:
Karen—Okay, look, if you’re gonna survive on the job and the people who support you are gonna survive, then you’re gonna have to quit with the bull in the china shop mentality.
Jim—Is that what you’ve been seeing?
Karen—Well, yeah. You know, it’s like you got something to prove.
Jim—I do.
Karen—All right, well if that’s all this is about then and you have no intention of staying on the job, then why don’t you tell me so I don’t end up collateral damage.
The subtext of this dialogue is a big part of what makes Blind Justice so special. Karen’s use of the word “support” can mean just that she backs him up, but could also be an acknowledgement of how Jim is already coming to depend on her to do his job and how she can be brought down with him if he fails. And Jim’s delivery of the line “I do” says a lot about how at a disadvantage he feels on the job and how much better than everyone else he believes he has to be in order to function. It’s a response that would cause many people to cut him some slack out of pity, but doesn’t work on Karen, who doesn’t seem to pity him at all. Her rebuttal, implying that she’s not along for the ride if he’s only out to prove a point, is left hanging until the moment Karen prematurely ends Jim’s interview with Lloyd Crider.
Jim— Are we alone?
Karen—Yeah.
Jim—Regardless of how long you think I’ll last on the job, don’t cut short my interviews.
Karen quickly points out it was her interview too and that she didn’t think it would have done any good to continue. At this point, the old Jim probably would have been furious--and shown it. But Blind Jim has learned some patience and merely blows Karen off with one of his “I’m through listening to you” waves and an “All right. Okay.” He then reestablishes his partnership bond with her:
Jim—But we’re on the same page, right? He’s a candidate?
Karen—He’s a candidate.
I want to point out here that Marty has a lot of gall to be saying “Another happy customer” to Jim after Lloyd Crider walks out, upset. This coming from Marty, who had just bullied a false confession out of a mentally-challenged man? Marty has been shown throughout the series being rough in interviews, whether it’s called for or not while Jim seems to sense when it’s appropriate to kiss up and when intimidation is the best method.
The other complex relationship we are shown in this episode is obviously the one festering between Jim and Christie. Jim reluctantly agrees to go to a dinner party, probably because he gets a vibe that Christie may be getting too close to her boss and Jim can’t have that. They go and Jim is bored and left on his own, although Christie watches him closely and checks up on him. Then Smarmy Clay Simmons approaches, instantly repelling me with his word choices and the way he is coming on to Christie.
Clay—What are you slurping there, Christine? The pinot or the cab?...My caterer brought it. Too Oak-y for my fat Irish tongue.
Ew! The combination of the word “slurping” and the image of a “fat Irish tongue”—especially when used in such close proximity to one another—just grossed me out. He’s trying to be impressive, speaking of “pinot or cab,” but he also wants to prove he’s just a regular guy.
Jim sees through him instantly. I think he is entirely right in thinking Clay is hitting on Christie, although I don’t think Christie thinks it’s an accurate assumption. The look Clay shoots Christie when he says, “Steak, which I know YOU adore” is something he never would have dared to do, had he not been fully aware that Jim couldn’t catch him at it. This happened to me once. My creepy next-door neighbor in Sherman Oaks blatantly hit on me with my husband in the room and I was furious because I knew he was taking advantage of my husband’s deafness and never would have said what he said had I been married to a hearing guy. I get the same sense from Clay’s actions here, further backed up by this exchange with Jim:
Clay—And you being a cop, I’ll guess. Raw?
Jim—Rare’s fine.
Clay—Mmm. I’ll pass it on.
There’s insult in Clay’s tone. A condescending attitude. It’s a passive aggressive alpha-male ritual to win the mate, no matter what Christie believes is happening.
Clay’s whispered line, “I know every absinthe bar” is the last straw for Jim. I love the moment when he knocks his drink into Christie’s lap and then says, in such an innocent voice,
Jim—I am so sorry. Did I get anyone?
Christie—My lap.
Clay—Here, let me get at that.
Jim—Hey, Clay, you go patting at my wife’s crotch, you’re gonna get your arm ripped off.
The horrified looks on the faces of all the “high class” party goers is priceless.
The fight scene at home is one of my favorite moments of the series because it is the most impassioned we see Jim and, again, a lot more is going on than what meets the eye. Jim is using his blindness to defend himself and to try and show Christie what Clay had been doing (“I guess because I’m blind I can’t hear either. He thought because I can’t see, I got no balls.”). Jim puts to words his feeling of being emasculated by his blindness. I love the way Christie acknowledges his masculinity (“so you proved that you do…”) but won’t cut him any slack on his behavior. What really comes to a head here is that Jim knows it is his own infidelity he’s projecting onto Christie.
Jim—That was normal tonight? A guy inviting you out of the country?
Christie—Come on. Do you really think that I would go without you?
Jim—Yes.
He knows this isn’t fair to Christie, but, being the flawed Jim we have all come to love, he lashes out at her when she points this out to him. (“But that’s your world, Jim. Not mine.”) It seems like every emotion he has suppressed thus far bursts out of him when he says, “What is that supposed to mean? What do you mean by that? Why don’t you just say it, huh? Say it!” Oooh. So many things could be behind an outburst like this. Anger at himself, obviously. Anger at Christie for being the injured party all this time and for causing him so much guilt. This moment has probably been hanging over both of their heads since Jim was blinded, waiting for the time when Christie would have to admit to Jim how hurt she has been by his infidelity. He has no response when she says, “Just because you couldn’t say faithful doesn’t mean I can’t.” His folded hands coming up to his mouth as he sits there, silenced, probably filling with guilt as his anger subsides, is a powerful moment.
There's so much more I could say about Christie and then entrance of another of my favorite characters, Dr. Galloway, but this is enough for now.
Four Feet Under is full of little pivotal moments that stand out, furthering the development of all the characters and establishing the foundation of the entire series.
The Jim/Marty conflict grows more uncomfortable as they face off over their differing opinions of the direction in which each wants to take the case. When Jim focuses on the family and has the dog exhumed, Marty delivers my favorite Russo wisecrack to date:
Jim—What is it?
Marty—Bin Laden.
Then Marty chides Jim on wasting time that could have potentially been spent saving the kid’s life.
Jim, in turn, puts down Marty’s interview with the child molester, Kent Newell. (“I think if you asked him if he was a gorilla, he’d answer yes.”) He even goes a step further and re-interviews the man, making it obvious to everyone that the confession wasn’t any good and that Marty and Tom had gone way off track. When Marty, to save face, tells Jim that Newell is still a contender and not to get smug, the ensuing exchange cracks me up, although I don’t know why Jim said such an obviously untrue thing.
Jim—You could know me 50 years, Marty, and you’d never see me smug.
Marty—I’m seeing it now.
On a side note, I loved the moment, during the first interview with Kent Newell, when Jim is shown with his back to the mirror, listening. When Marty bangs his hand on the desk, Jim jumps. This, more than anything, shows that Marty is using an ineffective technique in his interview with a mentally-challenged man. Jim wouldn’t have been so startled by the noise had he thought being rough was a good way to go. He would have been expecting something like that and would have braced himself for it.
Another complex relationship is given more light. Karen has already come to trust Jim, but is starting to take some heat for siding with him against Marty and Tom. This puts her in an extremely uncomfortable spot, particularly when Marty calls her Jim’s “Bottom bitch.” A lot is going on during this exchange:
Karen—Okay, look, if you’re gonna survive on the job and the people who support you are gonna survive, then you’re gonna have to quit with the bull in the china shop mentality.
Jim—Is that what you’ve been seeing?
Karen—Well, yeah. You know, it’s like you got something to prove.
Jim—I do.
Karen—All right, well if that’s all this is about then and you have no intention of staying on the job, then why don’t you tell me so I don’t end up collateral damage.
The subtext of this dialogue is a big part of what makes Blind Justice so special. Karen’s use of the word “support” can mean just that she backs him up, but could also be an acknowledgement of how Jim is already coming to depend on her to do his job and how she can be brought down with him if he fails. And Jim’s delivery of the line “I do” says a lot about how at a disadvantage he feels on the job and how much better than everyone else he believes he has to be in order to function. It’s a response that would cause many people to cut him some slack out of pity, but doesn’t work on Karen, who doesn’t seem to pity him at all. Her rebuttal, implying that she’s not along for the ride if he’s only out to prove a point, is left hanging until the moment Karen prematurely ends Jim’s interview with Lloyd Crider.
Jim— Are we alone?
Karen—Yeah.
Jim—Regardless of how long you think I’ll last on the job, don’t cut short my interviews.
Karen quickly points out it was her interview too and that she didn’t think it would have done any good to continue. At this point, the old Jim probably would have been furious--and shown it. But Blind Jim has learned some patience and merely blows Karen off with one of his “I’m through listening to you” waves and an “All right. Okay.” He then reestablishes his partnership bond with her:
Jim—But we’re on the same page, right? He’s a candidate?
Karen—He’s a candidate.
I want to point out here that Marty has a lot of gall to be saying “Another happy customer” to Jim after Lloyd Crider walks out, upset. This coming from Marty, who had just bullied a false confession out of a mentally-challenged man? Marty has been shown throughout the series being rough in interviews, whether it’s called for or not while Jim seems to sense when it’s appropriate to kiss up and when intimidation is the best method.
The other complex relationship we are shown in this episode is obviously the one festering between Jim and Christie. Jim reluctantly agrees to go to a dinner party, probably because he gets a vibe that Christie may be getting too close to her boss and Jim can’t have that. They go and Jim is bored and left on his own, although Christie watches him closely and checks up on him. Then Smarmy Clay Simmons approaches, instantly repelling me with his word choices and the way he is coming on to Christie.
Clay—What are you slurping there, Christine? The pinot or the cab?...My caterer brought it. Too Oak-y for my fat Irish tongue.
Ew! The combination of the word “slurping” and the image of a “fat Irish tongue”—especially when used in such close proximity to one another—just grossed me out. He’s trying to be impressive, speaking of “pinot or cab,” but he also wants to prove he’s just a regular guy.
Jim sees through him instantly. I think he is entirely right in thinking Clay is hitting on Christie, although I don’t think Christie thinks it’s an accurate assumption. The look Clay shoots Christie when he says, “Steak, which I know YOU adore” is something he never would have dared to do, had he not been fully aware that Jim couldn’t catch him at it. This happened to me once. My creepy next-door neighbor in Sherman Oaks blatantly hit on me with my husband in the room and I was furious because I knew he was taking advantage of my husband’s deafness and never would have said what he said had I been married to a hearing guy. I get the same sense from Clay’s actions here, further backed up by this exchange with Jim:
Clay—And you being a cop, I’ll guess. Raw?
Jim—Rare’s fine.
Clay—Mmm. I’ll pass it on.
There’s insult in Clay’s tone. A condescending attitude. It’s a passive aggressive alpha-male ritual to win the mate, no matter what Christie believes is happening.
Clay’s whispered line, “I know every absinthe bar” is the last straw for Jim. I love the moment when he knocks his drink into Christie’s lap and then says, in such an innocent voice,
Jim—I am so sorry. Did I get anyone?
Christie—My lap.
Clay—Here, let me get at that.
Jim—Hey, Clay, you go patting at my wife’s crotch, you’re gonna get your arm ripped off.
The horrified looks on the faces of all the “high class” party goers is priceless.
The fight scene at home is one of my favorite moments of the series because it is the most impassioned we see Jim and, again, a lot more is going on than what meets the eye. Jim is using his blindness to defend himself and to try and show Christie what Clay had been doing (“I guess because I’m blind I can’t hear either. He thought because I can’t see, I got no balls.”). Jim puts to words his feeling of being emasculated by his blindness. I love the way Christie acknowledges his masculinity (“so you proved that you do…”) but won’t cut him any slack on his behavior. What really comes to a head here is that Jim knows it is his own infidelity he’s projecting onto Christie.
Jim—That was normal tonight? A guy inviting you out of the country?
Christie—Come on. Do you really think that I would go without you?
Jim—Yes.
He knows this isn’t fair to Christie, but, being the flawed Jim we have all come to love, he lashes out at her when she points this out to him. (“But that’s your world, Jim. Not mine.”) It seems like every emotion he has suppressed thus far bursts out of him when he says, “What is that supposed to mean? What do you mean by that? Why don’t you just say it, huh? Say it!” Oooh. So many things could be behind an outburst like this. Anger at himself, obviously. Anger at Christie for being the injured party all this time and for causing him so much guilt. This moment has probably been hanging over both of their heads since Jim was blinded, waiting for the time when Christie would have to admit to Jim how hurt she has been by his infidelity. He has no response when she says, “Just because you couldn’t say faithful doesn’t mean I can’t.” His folded hands coming up to his mouth as he sits there, silenced, probably filling with guilt as his anger subsides, is a powerful moment.
There's so much more I could say about Christie and then entrance of another of my favorite characters, Dr. Galloway, but this is enough for now.
Jim's reaction later with the Berglass case re-emphasizes that there is something in his past. He would have had cases thrown out before--aggrivating but no biggy. But this was a case of molestation--a kid being hurt, abused, their trust violated. It touched a deep chord with Jim that he never forgot and drove him to nail Doyle so he could never do it again. I don't mean that Jim was molested as a child but abuse comes in all forms, as we all know.