Martin Carr reviews the first episode of American God season 2…
Gestation for this new season has been glacial with departing show runners and cast members plus months in stasis while obstacles were overcome. For those who missed American Gods first time round shame on you, as invention comes no thicker or faster, no fresher nor vibrant than in this visually arresting Neil Gaiman adaptation. There is a folkloric quality which pervades every frame and a dark edged humour which punctuates some of the more unsettling imagery on offer. Even for those familiar with the meandering structure, freewheeling characterisation and outlandishly saturated colour palette House on the Rock requires multiple viewings.
At the heart of this tale sits a literal and metaphorical deconstruction of American consumer society, which challenges existing belief systems and more conventional modes of worship. This world is changing and bending to the will of a new set of Gods as personified through Crispin Glover’s Mr. World, not so much one person as a multitude. His feud with Ian McShane’s Mr. Wednesday is only one thread of a tale which pulses with potential, pushes towards new possibilities and turns American Gods from corporate tale to mythical fable. Purposely devoid of definition, artistically intellectual yet quintessentially tongue in cheek, this programme requires a delicate balancing act.
In this opener it is Orlando Jones as Mr. Nancy and Yetide Badaki’s Bilquis who are the stand outs alongside an ever sage and solid McShane. These two actors understand the supernatural and sultry needs of these characters fully inhabiting them from that crucial re-introduction. Ricky Whittle maintains a disconnection with those around him in line with the continual visual assault to his senses, both literal and theological, giving audiences a reliable point of reference. Even when the episode branches off into metaphysics and colour palettes drift towards acid flashback there is an excitement, vibrancy and unbridled invention which comes through.
There is nothing inflammatory or overtly graphic in this opening foray yet you get the impression that wickedness can only ever be a heartbeat away. With a mixture of old style carnival attractions, carousel rides and house of horror oddities, House on the Rock eases new comers in with consideration while tipping a hat to old hands. By choosing not to bombard audiences with a tested formula season two makes promises, teases potential and re-acquaintances us with a languid gathering of old friends without compromise.
Martin Carr
