Martin Carr reviews the sixth episode of Preacher season 4…
Dividing up souls over doughnuts, flagrantly savaging male man veg and the delivery of body parts by blacked out pick up can mean only one thing; The Last Apostle has landed. Seguing between Eighties Australian pop and Seventies funk, by way of The French Connection make this episode unique. That bleach blonde hairdo which Cassidy sported with surprising style post episode five, is in full affect here while Tulip smokes all comers on attitude alone.
There is a slick vibe which permeates all the antipodean segments while any digressions involving a certain Saint of Killers only adds to the absurdity of things. God playing creation with his model making table, miniature figurines and biblical re-run facility also makes for an interesting if instantly redundant diversion. However Featherstone is conspicuously absent meaning Herr Starr has nothing to bounce off in terms of interaction, leaving Hitler and Jesus to do any heavy lifting. Unfortunately dialogue which touches on the diverging and contradictory nature of belief, creation and the aforementioned division of sinners is fun but never fully exploited.
Elsewhere the road trip elements which constitute a majority of the running time feel like padding to an extent. After a rejuvenated Jesse begins his pilgrimage across Australia with another companion there is little for them to do. Dialogue is sparse which goes hand in hand with the nature of their acquaintance, but fails to make it engaging because of that. McTavish and Cooper are as blameless as Gilgun and Negga, because in the words of Robin Williams ‘you can’t make butter with a toothpick’.
Even the retribution which is metered out to a certain cast member somehow loses any comedic edge because of coincidental timing. Inevitability there was always going to be an episode which failed to completely gel, even if individual components worked well. Australian and New Zealand stereotypes do little to help matters as these stock characters lack depth or relevance, which is where much of the comedy should come from.
In terms of sharp observational humour, dry sardonic moments or clever theological contradictions which is often the bread and butter of Preacher these are in short supply. There is no counterpoint between the moments of extreme violence or subtle instances of pathos which is crucial to making things work. Not that The Last Apostle is bad by any means just average which is worse than it sounds for something so fundamentally original.
Martin Carr
