...with its Twists and
Slow-but-Steady Surprises
Below is a response to the subsequent episodes—episodes 2, 3, and 4—as
we’ve just about made it to the quarter-mark of the series so far.
Lloydalists welcomes your remarks in the comments: what are your
thoughts about Manhattan and/or
Harry’s job so far? Let us know!
~C~
Above:
Harry Lloyd’s Paul Crosley puts on the façade of cool. (Image © WGN America,
2014)
Reduction: Manhattan Episodes 1.2 – 1.4
In a group of five young intellectuals, it seems likely that at least
one of them emerges as the peevish, cocky, pompous, flippant, and/or
“insensitive jerk” stereotype. Indeed,
it would make sense that a television show like Manhattan, which is, in many ways, an ensemble cast that, in
particular, relies on five young scientists working collaboratively and
collectively to craft the imploding bomb at the center of the eponymous project
would dare to even caricaturize each figure as to separate one from the
other. There’s the Ph. D-wielding woman;
the Chinese-American family man with something to prove (and hide); the more
stout-and-hardy scientist; his antithesis, the thin and bespectacled “nerdy”
type with a lot more pugilistic power than meets the eye brewing beneath the
surface; and, last but not least, the irreverent British scientist whose accent
and character further separates him from the pack. Yet, what has been most enjoyable and
intriguing about Manhattan thus far
is just how unpredictable is each character, plot, and twist of even small
events. Like the contorted remains of
the test bombs, the story-lines and the actors within Manhattan keep morphing, snaking, and meandering down various paths
that are not always so predictable.
From here on out, attempts have been made to
steer clear of major plot points or developments; “Mild Spoilers” may be ahead.
After watching episode 1.2 (premiere date: August 3, 2013) of Manhattan, it seems established that
Harry’s character, at least so far, is one of an ensemble in the group of six
scientists (now down to five: four “wunderkinds” and their seemingly
solipsistic but really withering leader, Frank Winter, played notably by John
Benjamin Hickey). Harry does seems to
offer the most comically-naughty relief, and perhaps his British humor is a bit
more sexualized than that of some of the Americans, although they seem to be
able to sling it back at him when necessary.
In episodes two and three of the first season, his character is at the
fringes of the main action, and while, as an audience, we are more invested in
events than in characters, I wouldn’t simply pass over Harry’s character yet
because, as episode 2 proves (I won’t give anything away), anything could
happen to any character at any time.
Episode 4—the newest at this time—offers more than a merely promising
glimpse of Harry’s increasing role (and screen time) in Manhattan, as Paul becomes a polarizing and catalyzing figure
thrown into the midst of the Manhattan Project’s trial experiments
simultaneously amidst drama from within the scientific cohort community.
Episode 1.3 (premiere date: August 10, 2014) of Manhattan builds seamlessly from the previous episode. The death of one of the scientists (watch the
show to find out who, what, when, where, why, and how) reverberates not only
through Winter’s underdog group, nor merely among the men and women who work
under the cover of secrecy. The entire
town in the middle of the dessert seems reeling beneath the weight of the
surprising homicide. Between the
celebration (a spy was killed!) and anger (this was an unjust crime!) falls the
suspicious attitudes of already apprehensive people, not to mention the remorse
of the murderer, whose fate takes a surprising turn—surprising most for him.
Probably with great expectation, Harry’s response to the death of his
colleague is not in-line with the reactions of his peers. Clearly, all four of the remaining young
people wear masks of humor to hide the humorlessness, but Paul’s attempts to
conceal his growing tensions convey irreverent mockery that puts his “friends”
on his bad side. Nothing he says, nor
the way he says it, seems to come out right.
But with Harry Lloyd’s translucent-eyed look and slightly-crumpled brow,
it becomes clear that Paul Crosley is more than a misanthropic and cynical Mr.
Nasty who cares only about his work.
Indeed, he is worried about his work and what it may mean for him—and
his own life. Only, this humorless
chatter and seemingly indifferent remarks in the dead man’s wake make Paul out
to be inhumane. In reality, he fears for
his life, his job, and even his intelligence.
By episode four, we find a scientist who may be weasel-like and weak at
times but who also has a brilliant mind (the no-nonsense Winter would not have
selected him otherwise for part of his team) and a certain, regulated set of
personal conduct codes. Despite his
rules-of-etiquette breaking manner, in other words, Paul Crosley seems most
attentive to regulations when lives are on the line and following protocol may
mean job (and life) security.
Above:
Secret "gadget" testing in the desert. Note: 1940s goggles may appear larger than actual size. (Image © WGN America,
2014)
The Voice of Consciousness:
Episode 1.3
Harry has a turning point moment in episode three of Manhattan’s freshman season, his
character contributing a telling, heartfelt, and surprising voice-over
narration as he writes a letter to the wife of his deceased colleague. At this moment in the last five minutes of
the episode, Harry’s character—so far in the show a bit of a snake with rude
and abrasive commentary, as noted above—deepens. Suddenly, his cocky and irreverent remarks
appear a cover for a deep-feeling soul who uses grim and inappropriate comments
to mask his true self. His “rudeness” is
a coping mechanism, in short. But, the
saddest reality is that even his outlet for his true
feelings—letter-writing—can offer no immediate relief or remediation for its
recipient. Although his act of penning a
letter in private is a personal act of reconciliation with what has happened,
and while he may consider his deed done so that he can move on, in fact, Manhattan reveals in the final few
moments of episode 1.3 that one man’s death is nothing more but the cause of a
perpetual haunting of all whose lives are even briefly touched by him and his
misguided actions.
The voice-over of Paul Crosley “reading” his letter aloud allows
Harry’s figure to be more than just the “annoying scientist in the group.” The sequence redeems his character somewhat
not just because this man is performing a kind, selfless action (yet still
following protocol in not using his own name, not mentioning the dead man’s
name, and mentioning nothing “illegal”), but even more, because in comparison
to what is going on around Paul, the man of questionable remarks is far from a
villain. The bomb itself—the looming
presence of the show—is the worst, most physical form of danger lurking in
every corner of Manhattan. But it is the entire system in place in this scientific community of wood houses, narrow
offices, and desert floors. It is a
system of stymying secret actions that occur behind the scenes that is the true
danger. Suddenly, viewers recognize that
Harry’s Paul is more than the “insensitive jerk” and, even if he was, he would
be a mere annoying gnat in comparison to the growling beast of the Manhattan
Project community. The underbelly of
this world is a system of covert operations, of secret file cabinets, of
surveillance, and of the stripping of emotion—symbolized when Paul’s letter to
the deceased’s wife gets butchered and bowdlerized before shoved into the
appropriate drawer by some unknown worker.
A drone.
Above: Paul and boss Frank Winter (John Benjamin Hickey) react to the...reaction. (Image © WGN America,
2014)
Catalyzing Reactor
With his good deed done at the end of episode three, Paul seems poised
to cleanse himself further from what seems a plagued and punished group of
misfit scientists who can’t seem to get the help from superiors they require to
finish their work. That a friend in his
midst has been “bumped off,” too, has Paul rattled: it seems best to move on
and be moved to Reed Akley’s more posh (and connected) department. Akley,
played stonily and well by David Harbour, meanwhile butts heads with Winter,
who resorts, in episode four, to surprising antics in order to go where he
needs to go to get what he needs to get (again—watch episode four to see what
this means).
While Paul is anxious to extricate himself from the doomed Winter group
and move to the next level, a series of events thrusts him and Winter himself
together. Episode four is the strongest
episode of Manhattan so far, with themes
of fortitude, post-traumatic stress, and the way in which men (and women) war
within themselves in ways that no one can see or predict. A notable series of flashbacks in which the
young Frank Winter is shown in the midst of World War I offers insight as to
why the man is as cutthroat, cynical, and anxious—not to mention
insomnia-stricken—as he is. It soon becomes clear that Frank’s role as a
scientist is only an extension of his younger days in the previous war:
“scientists are soldiers,” he exclaims at one juncture. The repeated phrase, “no one is coming to
save us,” too, also serves as a symbolic and eerie omen. While Frank, Paul, and a young officer are
stuck in the middle of the desert, it seems the three are on their own—and on
the path to a long walk back to
town. But when Frank insists “no one is
coming to save us,” he intimates that no one can save a man from himself. Memories still haunt. Decisions still haunt. Mistakes, regrets, indecisive moments, past
deaths—everything still scratches and scars.
As Paul reluctantly becomes roped into aiding Winter carry out an
unscheduled bomb test—and then becomes videographer and camera-carrier, not to
mention field-nurse for feet on the long walk back home—Harry’s character gets
significant screen time and is able to bond better with his boss. Paul still has his whiny moments—wonderfully
punctuated with the supercilious air of naughty and nasty that Harry, rather
humorously, has a habit of getting just right. But the snipping and sniping
personality cracks and softens as he grows physically weary, ragged, and
dehydrated. When he witnesses the
much-older Winter continue to trudge through dust and darkness all the while
with shrapnel tearing his foot to little more than skin and blood, it seems a
moment in which Harry’s tender side emerges.
Later, we recognize that this “rejects” group of scientists is probably
the area of the Manhattan Project with the most heart and soul because they
have little to lose. They give all of
themselves, body and mind, and without the fine suits (or even working cars,
apparently), that make them part of the upper-echelons of the desert hierarchy.
Without giving much more away, there is a splendid and delightful
moment at the conclusion of episode four in which a set of pinched primers
serves as a re-bonding moment for Frank and Paul.
Above:
Is Harry channeling cameraman Virgil, his character from Closer to the Moon? Watch Manhattan episode 1.4 to find out! (Image © WGN America,
2014)
Reflecting Upon Manhattan So Far: The First Four
Episodes
Surprisingly, and as suggested slightly above, the real villain of Manhattan is not the historical threat
of the atom bomb, nor is it even the Axis Powers of World War II. In truth, it is the isolation, the secrecy, the frequent monitoring, and the lack of privacy
(ironic, considering all the secrecy) that exists within the “non-existent
town” where the Manhattan Project is underway.
The series, thus, derives an element of oppression, menace, and entrapment
in placing each of its figures in a sort of zoo in which animals are trapped,
studied, and forced and behave in certain ways.
Manipulations run rampant; power-hunger egotists further complicate the
matter, and that there are so many intellectuals cohabitating and working with
one another six days a week means the battle of wits, mental power, and success
are part of the implosions on screen.
What strikes me about Manhattan,
too, is how smoky it looks—how a small scene featuring Harry Lloyd’s Paul
Crosley sitting while pensively listening to orders on an intercom carries an
aura of mysterious contemplation; how John Benjamin Hickey’s Frank Winter can
appear such a magnanimous mind and man when asserting himself into places he
dare not go, yet appear such a fraught, broken man when sitting in a reminiscently
animalistic fashion and squat in his yard under cover of night; or how Katja
Herbers’ Helen transforms from jubilant to horrified while reminiscing about
her deceased colleague when, suddenly, she is confronted with the baby shoe of
the dead man’s now-fatherless daughter. Even
Olivia Williams’ Liza Winter at her table, returning to the scientific life as
she fusses over plants—yet another form of observed life in this glass-box
environment; or Charlie Isaacs’ (Ashley Zukerman) moist-eyed ruminations into
stale-lit corners of his office, his home, his “prison” are surprising signs of
what lurks beneath the surface of this lifestyle. What are all these people thinking? What truly brews in the human heart? These aforementioned scenes are minor moments that
build, the accretion of which is felt at the end of each episode when something
truly dynamic happen. In the end,
viewers are returned to the reality: that the real issue at heart here, the one
catalyzing all of the personal and social, internal and external issues, is
that destructive, life-altering, and history-making device everyone is
scrambling to build—even those who are kept in the dark about the true reality
of their new home town (typically, the women).
So far, Manhattan has offered
plenty of slow-burning, tense moments, largely driven by characters battling
their various psychomachiac moments, rather than giving audiences explosive
drama via nuclear weapons. If the show
continues to immerse its characters in more shocking plots (and does not stoop
to overt sexuality in order to meet its “shock and entertain” factor, which is
highly overdone in film on small and large screens these days), the series will
be worthy of a second (or more) season.
Already, despite rather low ratings and some mixed reviews—not helped
by this limited-cable show’s visibility and view-ability—Manhattan is being called by some critics “honestly one of the more
interesting dramatizations currently on television, especially basic cable”
(Spivey). As New York Observer writer Molly Mulshine admits, despite her
preliminary low-expectations for the show, she was sucked in: “Manhattan succeeds in creating a
stressful, secretive atmosphere that pulls you in rather than repels you.”
Indeed, I find myself more and more attracted to Manhattan with each passing episode. In particular, I look forward to witnessing
how Harry’s character transforms along with the events of Manhattan, how he is impacted by future episodes, and how his
interactions with his colleagues (to say “friends” almost seems an exaggeration,
but if his budding relationship with Frank is an indication of what’s to come,
we can be hopeful) continue to shock and surprise in small yet meaningful
ways. Just as the series appears to be
simultaneously building a bomb and rising towards the capstone blast of this
bomb (literally and symbolically), the characters and the actors who play them
are getting a chance to test themselves, as well as test the extent of their
nerves, intelligence, and humanity—the latter being the most significant
feature of Manhattan and the talented
cast at its helm.
Works
Cited
Mulshine,
Molly. “WGN’s New Manhattan Project Drama Is Pure Brannan-Filtered Intrigue.” Observer.com. New York Observer. 30 July
2014. Web. 20 Aug. 2014. <http://observer.com/2014/07/wgns-new-manhattan-project-drama-is-pure-brannan-filtered-intrigue/>
Spivey,
Julian. “WGN America Captures Summer's Best New Drama with ‘Manhattan.’” Examiner.com. 19 Aug. 2014. Web. 20 Aug.
2014. <http://www.examiner.com/review/wgn-america-captures-summer-s-best-new-drama-with-manhattan>.
Above:
Paul looks questionably serious and nervous all at once--will you be watching the latest episode on Sunday evening? (Image © WGN America,
2014)
~Written & Posted by C~
