Written by Howard Korder
Directed by Tim Van Patten
Originally aired September 8, 2013
There’s a magical air to the new season of Boardwalk Empire. Beginning with a flurry of fake snow and occasionally bathed in an impossibly beautiful turquoise light, this season is taking things well beyond the immaculately designed but undeniably confined sets of the previous seasons and out into new territory both physical and otherwise. Last season expanded our view of Prohibition-era America to the picturesque Tabor Heights and the darker (if you’ll pardon the awful pun) side of Atlantic City. “New York Sour” dutifully follows the career arc of an increasingly successful dramatic series by expanding its scope though not always to the overall benefit of the series.
As per usual with this series there is a lot to sift through. Barring the enigmatic opening wherein Richard Harrow dispenses with two mobsters somewhere out in the boondocks, “New York Sour” picks up with the kind of frustrated pragmatism you’d expect from a series about businessmen sometimes doing their best to restrain their bloodlust. After last season’s vague attempt at correcting some blatantly xenophobic assumptions (mostly about Jews) on the part of various ethnically-oriented characters, the meeting that truly opens the season finds the remaining main characters drawing loyalty broadly along lines of shared culture. The fighting Irish, Nucky and Eli, square off against Joe and Charlie as well as Arnold and Meyer, the former representing the New York brand of hyper masculine Italian-Americans, the latter the ascendant urban Jews who rely more on their wit than brute force. For each nation there is a boss and a kind of subordinate manager. Watching how these relationships play out should prove fascinating especially now that Charlie and Meyer are evidently no longer in cahoots after Charlie’s undeniable misstep in their burgeoning heroin operation.
The meeting stems from some of the blink-and-you’d-miss-it wrap up during last season’s finale in which Nucky had many of Joe’s men executed on their way back to New York (despite having previously agreed to abandon Nucky’s nemesis, Gyp Rosetti) and some kind of crooked deal with the stone faced Andrew Melon and court jester Gaston Means that was meant to put Rothstein in jail. Evidently it did not go through and Nucky is defensively trying to keep the peace while also ensuring that his two biggest frenemies remain isolated from one another. “I didn’t ask for trouble,” he insists calmly, “What was brought to my doorstep, I returned.” An astute summation of the myriad troubles with Gyp, Nucky seems in control of the situation, even going as far as to position Rothstein near the window for reasons that ought to be obvious to anyone who regularly watches the series. Nucky successfully purchases Joe’s passivity though it is unclear what kind of terms he is on with Rothstein and the condition of their respective bootlegging operations. Before exiting, Arnold notes the carefully calculated odds that Nucky might have him killed in Atlantic City. “14 to 1,” he announces in his characteristically cold manner, “Against.”
Another notorious troublemaker is still clinging to life after a disastrous and nearly fatal run-in with Gyp. I am delighted that Gillian made it through last season alive if only because “the character that everybody loves to hate” is an indispensable part of any long running drama and an integral component in the “softer” side of Empire. After her near-overdose last season, I had suspected that Gillian had been using heroin; that the dosage that took down the muscly Jimmy look-alike was only enough to leave her in a state of inebriated tranquility signaled as much. Unsurprisingly, things have gotten dire as she puts both her house and herself on the market. It is inferred that she goes through several “transactions” before meeting up with a stereotype-inducing, sweet divorcee (Ron Livingston) who is likely to kill or be killed by his own gentle kindness. All of this is in an effort to appear charmingly innocent in front of a district court as she battles for custodial rights to Tommy. In a cheeky scene that pits Leander (the inimitable Dominic Chianese) and her against Julia and her father, the judge cuts through the narrative static and insists that someone please provide some detail as to the context in which Tommy was allegedly taken from his home. Given the highly illegal behavior on both sides (Richard is curiously absent from the scene), neither says a word, leaving the entire issue at a legal stalemate.
Back in the windy city, Johnny Torrio seems to be reclaiming the reigns after his flirtation with trans-European detachment that left Al understandably confused and concerned. This episode divulges more of the reasons why Johnny might have considered leaving the gangsterism to his contemporaries. The Chicago newspapers (or at least one in particular) are alight with news of political corruption that directly fingers Torrio. While Boss John sweats over the small headlines (dwarfed by the death of President Wilson), Al Smirks likes he’s reading his first notice until he discovers that his name has been misspelled. Al is like a star on the make only his stage is the criminal underworld of Chicago. With his pride wounded and his two older brothers, Frank and Ralph (the teddy bear tough Domenick Lombardozzi), in toe he goes to visit the young newspaper writer who penned the aforementioned story. Their scene is subtly self-reflexive when you step back and consider the narrative tradition of weak and wiry men, sensitive and articulate, writing pulpy fiction about gangsters. HBO has probably taken that tradition further than most by imparting their gangsters with deep psychological and emotional conflicts in order to balance and perhaps explain their penchant for aggression and violence; physical, sexual and otherwise. It’s great having Al’s two (presumably) older brothers around as they explain his endless need to prove himself that will ultimately result in his becoming one of the most celebrated mobsters in American history. The approval of these siblings gives Al something to strive for not unlike Tony Soprano and his famously contentious relationship with his mother, though thankfully far less Freudian.
Most of the meaty conflict of the episode happens late and in the dark recesses of Atlantic City’s less charming neighborhoods. On the boardwalk, Chalky’s new club, cleverly called The Onyx, is experiencing success as a market for white folks to openly enjoy and deride the performative barbarism of the Negro population. Racism will undoubtedly play a larger role in this season that any before as the hypocrisy and subsequent self-loathing of whites who secretly want to be black comes into direct contact with the post-Lincoln, pre-King blacks who see no choice but to play by the prescribed rules of the fickle and more than occasionally heartless whites. It is a complex issue to say the least and HBO deserves credit for fairly navigating this terrain while also making some bold choices about character and action. The juiciest bit of drama occurs when the wife of a sleazy booking agent seduces Chalky’s right hand, Dunn Purnsley, into a psychosexual ménage a trois. After taking her to a cheap hotel (as a black man he is undoubtedly barred from the kinds of places this white woman would like to stay), Dunn commences with the act before realizing that her husband, Dicky, has surreptitiously entered the room. When Dunn attempts to leave, Dicky orders him, at gunpoint, to finish fucking his wife and to “act like a nigger.” An act of extortion and voyeurism that feels pretty safe next to last seasons, ahem, fixation on Sadomasochism, it opens the door for the season’s first major curveball when Dunn smashes a bottle of whiskey and proceeds to nearly decapitate Dicky with it as his wife escapes out the window. Her role in the setup is just as wicked as it becomes clear that she and Dickey work in tandem to meet their relatively perverse sexual needs while exercising their white privilege.
The series is making a controversial point here about expectation regarding behavior and race. The thing that tips Dunn over the edge is Dicky’s insistence that there is “no changing you people.” In effect, Dunn proves him right by resorting to barbaric violence (as compared to the elegant, civilized and, by implication, white violence of pistols) as an act of symbolic liberation against a long line of smug, power-wielding racists. As a freeman who has long since learned to internalize the rules of a less than free world, his pride has been wounded by being forced into behaving like a slave and then being made to feel that he is to blame for his own enslavement, which in some sense he is. Dunn’s position as a slave takes an even crueler turn as Chalky and Eli bring him out into the country to dispose of Dicky’s body while they taunt him from the safety of the car. The scene certainly feels like adding insult to injury though it’s definitely in Chalky’s, and thus Nucky’s, best interest to keep all their things, including people, restrained.
Nucky even goes as far as practicing a bit of what he preaches, sort of. He has a glow about him that comes after suffering a terrible trauma. Billy is gone and Margaret and the children have fled Atlantic City. Nucky has taken on a new lover, another smooth talking, highly sexualized and relatively independent actress. While few eyes are on him, he courts her though whether his motivations are to find new love or simply fill the void left by Billy’s death is unclear until the young actress overplays her hand by speaking of Billy in the negative. Nucky effectively dumps her on the spot (via the charmingly direct Eddie). This dismal signals that, while Nucky, like most men in the series, is relatively insatiable in some of his appetites, Billy Kent fulfilled some of his more complex needs in a way that not just any aspiring Broadway actress will. After this late-night kiss-off, Nucky consults some curious documents that vaguely suggest either the expansion of his empire into Florida (to procure Caribbean rum presumably) or some kind of early retirement.
Things between Nucky and his brother seem to be just fine at the moment although both of them are having a little trouble with Eli’s oldest, Will (Ben Rosenfield), whose straight hair and boyish good looks have been inexplicably replaced by roguishness and curls. Boardwalk is not known for its eulogies about culture, preferring to let its detail rich mise-en-scene and character-oriented storytelling provide the paths to relevance in the life of the contemporary viewer. However, it feels like season four is ramping up to make some statements, in particular about health and higher education and how these two focal points signify the generational divide and changes in the American cultural landscape. Education, which formerly stopped whenever a young man or woman decided they were done with it, is now of considerable importance not only to the success of the individual but to the continued sustainability of these large second and third-generation immigrant families. Last season picked up the issue of women’s rights, which was abandoned back in season one along with Margaret’s political commitment, with mixed success. It will be interesting to see whether, for Will, cigarettes are simply symbols of the outwardly alluring lifestyle of his father and uncle or if they, in conjunction with his attendance of college, will also be used as metaphors for the sense of upward mobility in pre-depression America.
Bookending this episode, with a few nail-biting scenes in between is the ever enigmatic Richard Harrow. Richard has easily becomes the series most inspiringly unpredictable and genuine heroes. It is to the writers’ credit that he does not become one-note in his sincerity and naivete but is rather well balanced in his capacity for violent retribution. Though his scenes can occasionally feel like a narratively well-constructed video game, he is nevertheless profoundly enjoyable to watch as he moves aggressively and thoughtfully through an environment of schemers and planners. “New York Sour” finds him on a Homeric odyssey to Minnesota in order to be reunited with his twin sister Emma. It’s a heartfelt conceit that Richard, the perennial outsider, should only find true connection with his literal twin. I sincerely hope this is not the last we see of him.
This episode features highly sociopathic behavior on opposite ends of the hero/villain spectrum. Countering Richard’s acts of “justice” is Agent Knox, the fresh-faced and lethally clever new Prohibition Office on Nucky’s payroll. The young, tea-swindling agent will undoubtedly be one of this season’s players having already dispensed with the niceties (and Agent Sawicki) in just this episode alone. His next test of cunning will be how he uses the acquisition of “Rolly Polly” Borst’s liquor landing to advance himself. I do love how the series characterizes those who do not imbibe alcohol (Nelson/George and Rothstein in particular) as fundamentally more dangerous than those who do, as if their dedication to a clear mind was actually an extension of their sociopathic tendencies.
As with a cast this size some folks invariably get left out of the premier. I’m particularly curious about the fate of Michael Shannon’s George Mueller having backed himself into increasingly tighter corners last season. I would love to see more of Gaston Means and am ultimately still very involved with the fate of Harry Daugherty and the whole business of Federal government corruption. I have great hopes for this season though I don’t sense as clear of a narrative as compared to last season and definitely haven’t located a troublemaker to match Gyp Rosetti. There is also the question of where any actual romance will spring from now that Gillian is the only woman left within the inner circle. The series, which has been defined up to now by its cutting edge writing and directing, will undoubtedly go surprising and invigorating directions though retaining focus within a universe as unwieldy as Boardwalk’s can sometimes be an issue. But the rest has yet to be seen and I will eagerly consume these tasty period morsels for as long as they continue to satisfy.
What Cannon? 