Tuesday, February 07, 2012
Bicentennial Tributes: Charles Dickens

By Damian Arlyn
While perhaps it does seem unimaginative and a downright cliché to say so, nevertheless I must admit that Charles Dickens is one of my favorite writers. And yet the reason I cannot recall when I first was introduced to this wonderfully witty wordsmith is the same reason that it feels vaguely silly to be writing today about the bicentennial of his birth: namely, that it seems as if Dickens has been there always, from the very beginning, right beside me, amusing me with his colorfully unique and eccentric characters, shocking or moving me with his deliciously complex stories and captivating me with his musical and, of course, plentiful prose. Indeed, Dickens is one of the most verbose writers I've ever encountered in my many readings, relaying such intimately atmospheric details (including the location of the pitiful pawn shop where the kettle, out of which the maid just poured the steaming hot green tea for the nervous little boy, was purchased for the beggarly sum of twopence) that he was able to weave a rich, textured and thoroughly engaging world with his words. Arguably, the greatest author of the Victorian era, his influence can be felt in all forms of fictional storytelling even today and a proper tribute to him and his art could not possibly be done satisfactorily without some sort of pathetic attempt to emulate his distinctively loquacious style in the opening paragraph of said tribute. Since I already have embarrassed myself sufficiently with such an endeavor, I shall cease to imitate this great genius and write of his life in my own humble style from this point forward.
Charles John Huffam Dickens was born Feb. 7, 1812, the second of eight children, to John and Elizabeth Dickens. Though his fledgling imagination was stimulated by avid reading, he was forced to leave school at 12 to work at a Boot Polish Factory to help support his family while his father sat in debtor's prison. In his teenage years, Dickens worked as a junior clerk at a law office, but it was his experience as a journalist in his early-mid 20s that led more directly to his ultimate calling. Under the pseudonym of "Boz," Dickens' first novel, The Pickwick Papers, was published in 20 parts over 19 months (beginning in March 1836 and ending in October the following year) after which it was put out in a single volume. This unfolding of the narrative serially and subsequent printing in book form (a common literary practice at that time) was how most of Dickens' novels also would be released to the public and it allowed for a certain freedom and spontaneity in his writing since he did not (as many authors did) write out the entire story beforehand but rather more or less created it as he went along. Pickwick was a huge success, providing Dickens with the money he needed to marry his then sweetheart (Catherine Hogarth with whom he had 10 children), and soon was followed by Oliver Twist (1837-39) and Nicholas Nickleby (1838-39). As with all Dickens' works, it did, however, have its detractors, who criticized the long-winded writing style by suggesting that Dickens was paid by the word…a myth which has, unfortunately, followed the great raconteur to this very day.
One of the major themes found in Dickens' stories was the plight of the poor. Dickens' sensitivity to the subject of poverty was perhaps first inspired by his own experiences in his early life. In particular, the dirty, cruel and oppressive working conditions at the Blacking Warehouse where he worked as a young man disgusted him and opened his eyes to the inhuman manner in which the poorer classes were handled by society at large. This anger at the severe inequality of the day manifested itself in his personal life as well through his philanthropic efforts. He helped found the Urania Cottage (an institution characterized as a "home for the redemption of fallen women"), gave generously to those less fortunate whom he encountered on the street and became, as G.K. Chesterton called him, "the spokesman for the poor." Dickens' commitment to, in the words of Jesus, "do unto the least of these," was tied closely to another major theme in his writing (and one of the first elements I personally connected to as a reader): his faith. Raised as an Anglican and later leaning toward a more Unitarian worldview, Christianity was clearly an important reality in his life and his work. Nowhere is this more apparent than in what is perhaps his most beloved and iconic tale, "A Christmas Carol": a story of repentance, forgiveness and redemption. Though it is true that Dickens didn't always practice what he preached (he had, for example, a decades-long affair with an actress named Ellen Ternan while still married to his wife and his anti-Semitism was demonstrated clearly in his depiction of the Fagin character in Oliver Twist), that does not create doubts in the mind of this reader as to the authenticity of his belief.
In his later years, Dickens' writing became more mature and more carefully planned out (though certainly no less successful) than his earlier works. Stories such as David Copperfield (1849-50), Bleak House (1852-53), Hard Times (1854), A Tale of Two Cities (1859) and my personal favorite, Great Expectations (1860-61) were decidedly more serious, darker, less humorous and less fantastic than his earlier works. Dickens also, despite his clearly failing health, began doing public readings of his own stories. His readings were very profitable (though in his typically liberal style, much of it was donated to worthy causes) and quite compelling since he was apparently a very effective reader. It is said that while enacting the passage from Oliver Twist that describes the murder of Nancy, women would faint in the aisles. Dickens died at home on June 9, 1870 from a massive stroke he had the previous day. He was buried in Westminster Abbey. The nation and the world joined in their mourning of the loss of one of the 19th century's most beloved and prolific writers. Today, the stories he told and the interesting characters he created (many of them inspired by real people whom he actually knew) are virtually immortal. Who doesn't know Ebeneezer Scrooge, Bill Sykes, Madame Defarge, Miss Havisham and many others? Furthermore, the stylized Victorian world that flowed forth from his untiring pen was so unique that, like other visionary artists who would follow him (including Alfred Hitchcock), he was given his own adjective to describe them, "Dickensian." As British biographer Lord David Cecil said of Dickens in 1935: "It does not matter that Dickens' world is not lifelike; it is alive." Today, two centuries after his birth (and more than 140 years since his death) his world still lives.
Tweet
Labels: Books, Dickens, Fiction, Hitchcock
TO READ ON, CLICK HERE
Wednesday, December 07, 2011
The Master Celtic Interpretation of A Christmas Carol

By M.A. Peel
Wiki lists more than 100 adaptations of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, for theater, radio, opera, graphic novel, TV, including at least 21 films, starting with a 1901 British silent (and that number doesn’t include the parodies and homages such as the numerous TV series that have a Christmas Carol episode). Everyone has their favorites: mine are Scrooged (yes, Bill Murray), and the Alastair Sim version, which tops the list for many generations of holiday viewers. What is it that sets the Alastair Sim version produced and directed by Brian Desmond Hurst — celebrating its 60th anniversary today — apart from the rest? Well, I’d say it’s because it is the result of the perfect Celtic marriage: a Scottish actor and an Irish director. Seriously. The Celtic DNA knows how to deal with ghosts, tormented souls and redemption like no other race and they would have a particular affinity with the creative genius of their Anglo-Saxon cousin Dickens.
Brian Desmond Hurst was born in East Belfast in 1895 into a working-class family of iron workers. In 1914, he enlisted in the British Army and survived the slaughter at Gallipoli with the Royal Irish Rifles. He went to Hollywood in the late 1920s and it’s not surprising that he became friends with John Ford — some accounts said he was one of Ford’s assistants — and had a cameo alongside John Wayne in Hangman’s House (1928). In 1933, he moved back to England, and the films he directed were seeped deeply in the Irish and English literary tradition: a version of John Millington Synge’s great play Riders to the Sea (1935), which he shot in Connemara with actors from the Abbey Theatre; Ourselves Alone (1936), a love story set against the Irish War of Independence (and the translation of Sinn Fein, a factoid I first learned from a Columbo episode!); and The Tenth Man (1936) based on the play by Somerset Maugham. In the 1940s, he directed several war films/re-creations, some would say propaganda, working with the Ministry of Information. One is A Letter from Ulster (1943), where "Hurst was able to persuade one Catholic and one Protestant soldier to write letters home, explaining their impressions of their stay." Another, Theirs Is the Glory (1946), was about the British forces in Operation Market Garden.

I don’t know how the job of directing and producing Scrooge, as it was released in Britain, fell to Hurst, but it was an inspired choice given his sensitivity to literature. And then his DNA kicked in. An Ulster man grows up believing that the supernatural simply coexists with the natural world. Hurst in his own words: "I don’t remember very much about my mother because I was only 3½ when she died, but I remember running into the house one day and asking her for a biscuit. I was still dressed then as a little girl, because in Ulster we believed that the fairies only stole little boys, and didn’t want little girls." From Yeats’ The Celtic Twilight — where he wrote down "true tales" of ghosts and spirits and faeries as told to him by various people — to the Conor McPherson film The Eclipse, with Ciaran Hinds as a volunteer at a literary festival who is drawn to an English author who writes ghosts stories — Celtic culture simply abounds with the dead and the undead sharing all sorts of things. Hurst’s literary nature combined with his Irish sensibility helped create magic on screen. The film’s atmosphere is authentically creepy, treating the ghosts with respect, and then truly joyous, as we know the Irish can be.

The other part of the magic, of course, is in the person of Alastair Sim. He was born in Edinburgh in 1900 to a mother from the Inner Hebrides who only spoke Gaelic until she moved to the mainland in her teens. Need I say more about Sim’s understanding of the Celtic soul? Like Hurst, there wasn’t much in Sim’s earlier work that hinted at such a perfectly realized lead performance. He was the clichéd "character actor" in the 1930s, moving up to lead in B pictures in the '40s. After Scrooge, his fame was for portraying — in drag — the headmistress in two St. Trinian’s films. Under Hurst’s direction, Sim gives the naturally nuanced performance of a lifetime. Every line reading sounds like extemporaneous, unscripted dialogue. Nothing is caricature, even the difficult "humbugs." His heart of stone at the beginning is perfectly cold and icy, with no hint of camp. His interview with Marley completely comfortable once he gets over the shock. Sim beautifully realizes every fiber of Ebenezer. The Dickensian-named Bosley Crowther, critic of The New York Times in the 1930s and '40s, summed it up like this:
In short, what we have in this rendition of Dickens' sometimes misunderstood Carol is an accurate comprehension of the agony of a shabby soul. And this is presented not only in the tortured aspects of Mr. Sim but in the phantasmagoric creation of a somber and chilly atmosphere."
It’s the final transformation, then, into the light, that I believe makes Sim’s good portrayal superlative.
One of humanity’s deepest fears is that of missing out: missing out on love, a career or a creative dream. It’s a harsh reality for everyone at some point. You accept the defeats small and large because you have to, as they say, "what can you do?" As Ebenezer slowly begins to see how mean he has become, he fears The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come — the Phantom — and his own death.
"How are you?" said one [man of business: very wealthy, and of great importance]
"How are you?" returned the other.
"Well!" said the first, "old Scratch has got his own at last, hey?"
And to underscore that Scrooge's soul is headed to Hell, Arthur Rackham's illustration of this exchange shows an enormous cloven-hoofed Satan looming behind the two businessmen, with his long fingers gesturing to Ebenezer. The Phantom leads Scrooge to the cemetery and the great scene of Scrooge seeing his name on the tombstone.
"Spirit! he cried, tightly clutching his robe. "Hear me! I am not the man I was. Why show me this, if I am past all hope?"
"I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!"
In his agony he caught the spectral hand. It sought to free itself, but he was strong in his entreaty, and detained it. The Spirit stronger yet, repulsed him.
Holding up his hands in a last prayer to have his fate reverse, he saw an alteration in the Phantom's hood and dress. It shrunk, collapsed, and dwindled down into a bed-post.
When Scrooge wakes up back in his bed, he’s thrilled but doesn’t know what day it is, how long the spirits have taken. When he learns that he hasn’t missed Christmas he is elated, light as a feather. He hasn’t missed it!!! The joy at being given another chance is like no other. (And, if you believe that what you “haven’t missed out on” is the eternal salvation of your soul, the elation gets kicked up a whole other notch). Sim’s Christmas Day giddiness is one of the great gifts to cinema. If Scrooge can become that happy, than surely there is hope — for everyone.

Hurst rounds out the film with a great soundtrack. Music, another thing the Irish know something about.
Tweet
Labels: 50s, Books, Dickens, Fiction, John Ford, Murray, Television, Theater, Wayne
TO READ ON, CLICK HERE
Sunday, November 06, 2011
Boardwalk Empire No. 19: Peg of Old

By Edward Copeland
Forgive me, Charles Dickens: It was the best of Boardwalk Empire, it was the worst of Boardwalk Empire. That's something for me to write, since it's rare to see the worst. Toward the beginning of tonight's episode, a development occurs that shows real signs of promise, not only in terms of storytelling intrigue but in finally — seven episodes into the second season of Boardwalk Empire — finding a way to reintegrate Agent Van Alden closer to the main plot lines and, more importantly, giving us the first chance in a very long time to see Steve Buscemi and Michael Shannon act in a scene together. There also are, as always, some stellar scenes. Unfortunately, these constitute a very small portion of the most disjointed episode of the second season. When I review movies, a general rule of thumb is that the more writers receive credit for a screenplay, the more likely it is that the movie will end up being a mess. I imagine the same holds true for teleplays. Usually many on a show's writing staff contribute to every episode, but, for the most part, only one writer, occasionally two, get the "written by" credit (Don't pay attention to what it says on IMDb, especially if it has staff writer italicized after their name — go by what's on the screen). "Peg of Old" lists Howard Korder & Steve Kornacki & Bathsheba Doran as the writers of this episode and while I looked through HBO GO at past episodes that co-executive producer Korder, co-producer and story editor Kornacki and new staff writer Doran wrote, I found no instance where any of the three wrote an episode with a partner. I can't be 100% certain that's why "Peg of Old" ends up feeling as if it were sewn together from various parts, but no other installment this season felt so piecemeal to me. I don't think you can blame the director: He had to make do with what he was given and Allen Coulter has proved how great he can be in the past when he helmed last season's "Paris Green," many classic episodes of The Sopranos including "College," "The Knight in White Satin Armor" and "Irregular Around the Margins" as well as the underrated feature film Hollywoodland. Coulter also does try to make the visuals as interesting as possible even when the content sags. An interesting coincidence about "Peg of Old" stems from its status as the season's seventh episode. In the first season, the episode I disliked the most (even calling it disjointed) also happened to be the seventh episode, "Home," which, despite its flaws, introduced the marvelous Richard Harrow character. Maybe seven isn't such a lucky number, at least as far as Boardwalk Empire goes. Poor Allen Coulter directed that episode as well. It's a shame about tonight, because when "Peg of Old" gets going with a run of several consecutive scenes where Boardwalk Empire comes off as its usual, riveting self, you get hopeful that perhaps just the beginning was off. Unfortunately, it goes off track again with scenes that feel repetitive, unnecessary or of little interest. I've included more criticism in this recap than any other this season. Those comments appear in italics.
As the episode opens, it appears that Nucky has been granted the wish he asked for at Mayor Bader's birthday party — Jack Dempsey has been prepping for his upcoming fight against Georges Carpentier to be held July 2 in Jersey City on the beaches of Atlantic City. You'd think he were in a real match as bloody as he makes his sparring partner until the bell rings giving the other guy a break — and the press a chance to hit the champ with some questions. "What do you say to those who say you dodged the draft?" one reporter (David Konig) asks. "I don't say nothin' because nobody ever says that to my face," Dempsey responds. Another reporter (Tony Rossi) reminds Dempsey that Carpentier "is a war hero after all." Dempsey tells the newspaperman that after the fight the other boxer "will wish he had a foxhole to crawl into." The first reporter asks about Carpentier's "secret punch." "What about his secret punch? We hear he has a secret punch?" the member of the Fourth Estate repeats to the heavyweight champ. "That's a lot of hooey. Besides, I've got tricks of my own," Dempsey

Van Alden returns to the apartment to find records playing and Lucy smoking. He asks where the baby is. Lucy tells him that she finally fell asleep after crying for five hours straight. "Did you feed her?" Nelson questions accusingly. "Of course I did. What do you think I am?" she replies. "I apologize. I have a headache," he responds as he hangs up his hat. Lucy stands and inquires about what Rose has said. "She's gone to visit an aunt in Milwaukee — according to the neighbors," he informs her. "Got a number for this aunt? An address?" Lucy wants to know. "She will not speak to me on the telephone. She will not answer my letters. We're being tested, Rose and I," Nelson declares. "And what about me?" Lucy asks. "I'm sure you're being tested as well in your fashion," he replies. A bit of the old Lucy starts to resurface, some anger growing as she approaches the agent. "I'm talking about our arrangement, Nelson. You owe me money," she tells him. "Yes. I'm sorry. I don't have it," he admits. "You don't have it now or you don't have it at all," Lucy glares as the baby girl can be heard starting to awaken. "You're enjoying the phonograph, aren't you?" Van Alden asks in an attempt to change the subject. Lucy shuts off the music as the baby's crying grows louder as does her voice. "When will you get it?" she demands to know. Nelson looks down the hall and tries to divert Lucy's attention to the child. "I need an answer!" Lucy shouts. "The child — it's an extremely penetrating sound," he says. "Three thousand dollars," Lucy reminds him. "That's a large sum," Nelson admits. "It is to me," Lucy agrees. "Lord knows what I was thinking," he responds, repeatedly looking back toward the wailing infant. "You were conning me?" Lucy accuses. Van Alden shakes his head no before he grabs his hat. "Frankly, it's impossible to concentrate in these conditions," he declares. "We had an agreement," Lucy yells at him as he exits the apartment. "You owe me money! This is your baby, you bought it! She doesn't even have a name!" A male neighbor shouts at her to quiet the baby. "You shut her!" Lucy screams back.
"We gonna start this thing?" Capone asks Jimmy who has gathered the up-and-coming gangsters in the Commodore's great living room. Why should Al Capone be there? As I said early in the season, it would be a lot harder to keep Capone reasonably involved in the ongoing storylines than the New York gangsters such as Rothstein, Luciano and Lansky. I believe I've been proven right since, as great as Stephen Graham is as Capone, this marks only his third appearance this season and we're up to the seventh episode. Characters who don't appear in the opening credits have appeared more often and played more significant roles. More tragically, this scene illustrates


If Agent Nelson Van Alden ever had enough imagination to write his memoirs, he certainly would be able to tell how his time in Atlantic City became more surprising the longer he worked there and as he approached his makeshift office housed within the city's Post Office, he was about to encounter another one. Strangers appear to have overtaken the place, including a woman (Julianne Nicholson) who sits at his desk talking on the phone. "What in damnation is going on here? Where is Agent Sawicki?" Van Alden demands to know. While the new people stare at the booming presence, Sawicki's head pops up behind a piece of furniture in the back. Van Alden stomps his way to him. "Who is this woman at my desk?" he asks Sawicki, "She's on the phone — with the attorney general," Sawicki whispers. Van Alden walks

Margaret steps out of a car in Brooklyn in the fifth scene and fifth separate story strand of this episode. No wonder I started getting that disjointed feeling in this episode. Unlike most episodes, "Peg of Old" seems to lack a unifying theme and though I'm a fan of big casts, the ensemble threatens to overwhelm the series as it keeps adding characters to the canvas as it's about to when we meet Margaret's long-lost siblings. Dressed in some of her finest clothes, Margaret looks out of a place as she walks through the working-class streets of

Ginsburg informs Nucky what he knows about Esther Randolph. Finally a scene that relates to another scene in this episode Randolph turns out to have been a public defender who spent 10 years representing draft dodgers and prostitutes. "And she works for Harry Daugherty?" Nucky says with surprise. "She caught the governor's eye in California, joined the U.S. attorney's office. I don't think Daugherty can get rid of her," Ginsburg proclaims. "Why the fuck not?" Nucky asks. "Someone has to look honest," Ginsburg replies. Thompson starts getting peeved about the federal court ploy not working. Ginsburg says he's been waiting to hear this. "If the attorney general can't help you, how can I?" Ginsburg states in his own defense. "I'm not the only one in town with something to lose," Nucky declares. "But you are the one they're coming after," Ginsburg reminds him. "The Commodore's in a diaper, O'Neill's off hiding, At least they've noticed he's missing Neary, Boyd, Paddy Ryan — if you can't work something on them, what the fuck am I paying you for?" Nucky

Van Alden watches with interest as Ward Boss Neary gives a deposition to Esther Randolph, an additional one from one he had already given for the state case since it's now federal. Unfortunately for Nelson, they close the door before he can eavesdrop on any juicy details that Neary might be giving up on Nucky. "And your sworn testimony will be used as a basis for prosecuting Mr. Thompson," Randolph asks Neary who nods yes. "The Dictaphone can't hear you nod," she whispers to him. "I mean yes," Neary says. Words come in and out for both Van Alden and the viewer. "Mr. Neary, you were arrested last March for storage of illegal alcohol with intent to sell," Randolph tells him. "I paid my debt on that," Neary proclaims. We can hear Randolph mention a $500 fine when Van Alden's phone rings. He quickly grabs it. "Special Agent Van Alden," he answers. Back in the deposition room, we don't know what happened but Neary seems upset. "I had a deal with the other prosecutor," Neary insists. "That deal is null and void. I can make your life quite difficult, Mr. Neary. In fact, I might enjoy it," Randolph informs him. Seems this transfer to federal court could be bad for everybody. O'Neill may have gotten off easy with just a wrench to the throat and head. "I understand. Right away," Nelson tells the person on the other end of the phone. "A situation has arisen. I will return as soon as possible," Van Alden informs Sawicki as he hightails it out of the office.
The reunited Rohan siblings share such a quiet meal that each time a fork or knife touches a plate, it sounds as if someone might be playing the drums. The only other noise comes from the street through the open window. Eventually, little Aylesh/Juliet breaks the verbal silence. "Did you take a boat here, miss?" she asks Margaret. "She's not of 'miss' age," Beth corrects her little sister. "She's like Peg of old, Juliet," Nuala adds. "I took the train," Margaret answers. "You can't take the train from Ireland," Juliet declares. "I live in Atlantic City,"

The ever-twisted mother-son relationship between Gillian and Jimmy continues as Gillian insists Jimmy close his eyes while she's changing. "When did you start getting modest?" Jimmy asks. "It isn't a flattering light. Men don't have to worry about these things," she explains. After Gillian has put on her dress, she asks her son for his opinion. He asks if she's meeting someone. "Just some girls from the Beaux Arts. They'll clock every wrinkle," Gillian claims. "You don't get old, Ma," he says. Gillian asks Jimmy if he remembers summers on the beach and he responds that everyone thought he was her brother. "Do you know what happens tomorrow?" Jimmy inquires of his mother. She dismisses its importance and walks to the other side of the room. "It is to me. A man's gonna get off a train, he's gonna walk up to Nucky Thompson and he's gonna put a bullet in him — right here," Jimmy points his fingers to his forehead, " — just because I said so. What do you think about that?" Gillian takes a drink. "I think the world's going to find out what kind of man it's dealing with," she replies. "And if I call it off?" he speculates. "Your friends wouldn't like that," she comments as she takes another drink. "They don't care what happens to Nucky," Jimmy tells her. "No, but they are watching you — very closely. They're delightful boys, dear. Colorful and ambitious. I'd never make the mistake of letting them see you be indecisive," Gillian counsels. "And that's why he dies? This isn't what we talked about, Ma," Jimmy says. "Well, we weren't being honest then. Now we are," Gillian tells him. "I don't want to do this," Jimmy declares sadly. "It's already done. It was done when you gave the order. The rest is just bookkeeping — and you can't bother with that. Make me proud of you," his mother whispers those last words in his ear.

What we've been waiting for has arrived. Nucky drinks while Lucy still sits in his office and Eddie opens the door to allow Nelson to storm in. Forget the promotion for Dempsey vs. Carpentier, we have a new round of Thompson vs. Van Alden that viewers have been denied since last season. "Lucy, would you be so kind as to give Agent Van Alden and myself a moment alone?" Nucky asks. Lucy picks up the bassinet with the baby girl. "I didn't know where else — " Lucy doesn't get to finish as Nelson says, "We'll discuss this at home — dear." The insincerity with which Van Alden via Michael Shannon tosses that "dear" in at the end plays note perfectly — giving the viewer a laugh without betraying the character's integrity by revealing it as something added for a humorous effect. Nucky holds up a decanter of booze to Van Alden. "If there was ever a time," Nucky offers. "No thank you," Nelson declines. "Fair enough," Nucky says as he pours himself one. "First and foremost, here's to you. It is, after all, a blessed event in the life of any man," Thompson congratulates the agent, barely containing his glee. I'm often surprised when I read people who still question whether casting Steve Buscemi as Nucky has proved to be a good idea, but how can anyone watch his work in a scene such as this and ask that? Nucky has so many facets to him and I've yet to see Buscemi flub any of them. He nails every emotional state — and Nucky goes through most of them — and shows equal flair in scenes comic and dramatic. "What do you want?" Van Alden scowls. "This might be a good time to charm me," Nucky suggests. "Why? Does that make blackmail any easier?" Nelson inquires. "I don't judge people. I help them. Perhaps you can see the value of that more than you once did," Nucky explains. "And what do you propose to help me with?" Nelson asks skeptically. "Where to begin? Supporting a wife, a mistress, a baby girl — all on a

Eamonn runs the other Rohan sisters off before they can have their dessert of trifle so he and "Peg" can speak alone. He lights up a cigarette and offers Margaret one, but she declines. "I'm not as American as you thought," she tells him. "Mom's in the earth, so there's news for you," Eamonn says. "Martin Hennessey wrote me," she replies. "Our cousin in America — you kept up with him at least," her brother notes with slight bitterness. "She’s in the Keel parish yard,” Margaret lets Eamonn know that she's aware of their mother's burial site. "Right beside Da. Not at each other's throats for once. She asked for you at the last. I told her you'd be comin' home. What else could I say? Were you weak, Peg, now that it doesn't matter?" her brother asks Margaret, who mutters something. Eamonn says he

As Arnold Rothstein told Luciano, "Never let the past get in the way of the future." So what if Gillian once slept with him so Jimmy could ambush him? That's no reason to turn down an opportunity for another sexual liaison with the woman who cured Lucky's STD-caused erectile dysfunction? I never realized Luciano works part time as a Beaux Arts dance girl.
Nelson enters his apartment calling for Lucy. He hears a voice quietly singing. It actually brings a rare sincere smile to the agent's face until he gets to his room and sees that the voice belongs to a woman he doesn't know and she's cradling his daughter. "Mr. Mueller," the woman says, still using the fake name he has on the apartment address. Which makes it even more ridiculous that Rose was able to obtain the address from Agent Sawicki last week. "Who are you?" he asks. "I'm Frieda Short from downstairs," Mrs. Short (Laurie Dawn) answers. "Where is my — wife?" Nelson has an easier time getting the last word out than you'd think he would. "She had to pick up some formula. I told her we had plenty of milk, but she's very particular," Mrs. Short replies. Van Alden inquires how long ago Lucy left and the neighbor tells him it was about 20 minutes ago. "But it's no bother. This little one is an angel," Mrs. Short declares before resuming her singing. When Nelson walks into the other part of the apartment, he hears a strange noise. He also smells something. He opens the phonograph and discovers it spinning with something on it. He turns it off and finds the title page to the script for A Dangerous Maid attached to a soiled diaper by a safety pin.
Eamonn gives Margaret a nod and shuts himself behind a door as she helps her sisters clear off the table, all except Juliet who still finds herself fascinated by Margaret's hat. Nuala inquires about Margaret's transportation and she tells her that she has a car outside that she hired for the day. "Her man pays for it," Beth says half-jokingly. Nuala gives her younger sister a look of disapproval. "Well, she's got one, don't ya?" Beth asks directly. Juliet, fiddling with the hat, spins a surprisingly accurate theory about the man Beth guesses Margaret has. "He's very mysterious and very powerful. He has means," Juliet describes him. "Oh, it's that one, is it?" Beth interjects. "He gets people to do his bidding or they pay a price. Don't they?" Juliet asks, looking squarely at a shocked Margaret. "Yes, with a snap of the finger," she replies quickly, deciding to play along as she takes her hat. "But he has a secret tragedy. His heart was broken and he'll never let anyone near it again," Juliet adds. Margaret turns around, clearly creeped out. "Where are you getting that from?" Margaret asks her youngest sister. "It's her stories," Nuala explains. "She's always got her nose in a book," Beth tells Margaret. Margaret offers to send her some books, if it's OK. Nuala says that Eamonn must approve. "Think of us now and then," Beth urges. Margaret tells them it's only three hours from Atlantic City. "Look at you Peg — after all these years," Nuala says as she hugs Margaret. Beth closes the door and Margaret descends the stairs to exit the apartment building when Juliet runs out. "I was only joking with you about the man. He must be very nice — really," her little sister makes sure Margaret knows. "Yes, he can be," Margaret responds. "And you're my sister," Juliet declares, trying to sort out who this stranger is to her. "I'm Margaret Katherine Sheila Rohan," she informs the girl born after her departure from Ireland. Juliet comes down the stairs and shakes Margaret's hand. "How do you do?" Eamonn appears at the top of the stairs. "Aylesh — to bed with you," he orders. "Do I have to?" the girl pleads. "I'm off to work. Do not keep your sisters up all night," her brother says. "Send me books. I like anything with a horse in it," the little girl whispers to Margaret before running upstairs.
In the category of unexpected scenes, this episode does offer one brief one: a sweet Van Alden scene. Nelson sits in a chair in the apartment, holding his baby girl, actually taking Nucky's sarcastic advice and flipping through his Bible for possible names. "Deborah. Hannah. Abigail." When he says Abigail, the baby makes a little sound of what might be approval and for the second time this episode — maybe the second time ever — we see Van Alden smile. This episode offers so much that is good but traps it between so much that is indifferent or feels undercooked that I just wanted to take it into an editing room and re-cut it after I watched it. This short little scene leads directly to Van Alden marching into the office the next morning. "Mrs. Randolph," Nelson says. "Miss," she corrects him. "May

Margaret stayed in New York overnight and has a car take her back to Brooklyn where she spots Juliet playing in the street. She gives Juliet a wrapped gift. It is the 1920 novel The Girl, a Horse and a Dog by Francis Lynde. Margaret asks if Juliet has read it, but the girl says no. She tells Juliet to tell her if she liked it once she finishes. "How?" Juliet asks. "You'll write me and I'll write you back," Margaret promises. "We'll have a secret correspondence," Juliet preens. The girl asks what their mother

Lillian fetches scattered toys up from the floor when Nucky asks if she's heard from Owen. She says she hasn't, but that Mrs. Schroeder called to say she's on her way back from New York, adding that she and Katy plan to take Teddy and Emily to the beach. An annoyed Nucky calls Eddie at the Ritz to see if he knows Owen's whereabouts. Kessler doesn't but Nucky tells Eddie that he's running late and needs him to come pick him up. There are more than the usual number of short scenes in this episode. Granted, they for the most part are necessary for establishment purposes (such as the quick scene with Nelson and his baby leading directly to the one where he decides not to become Nucky's spy), but others (Lucky and Gillian boink again) don't have a payoff though they could down the road.
We get the answer about Owen in the next scene as he sits in a dive of a tavern (can we call it a pub if it's in Atlantic City?) eyeing a man who just sat on a stool at the bar. Sleater, beer in hand, sidles up to the bar and quietly asks the man (Gary Troy), "Is it Del Grogan?" The man suspiciously returns the query with a distinct Irish brogue. "Do I know you?" Owen turns on his smiling charm. "It is Owen Sleater, Sean's cousin from Dunmore," Sleater replies. "That pimple on the ass on the Lord," Grogan says. Sleater laughs, trying to keep his charm offensive going, but it's clear it's for show. "Quite a town on a Saturday night," Owen proclaims. "Every other night of the week as well,"

In what appears to be Babette's, Nucky and Bader hang out with Dempsey and Doc Kearns. Nucky tells the boxer that after the song finishes, he can give the speech. "And don't forget to mention Radio Corporation of America," Kearns reminds him. "How could I forget, Doc? You wrote that in my speech," Dempsey says as he heads to the stage. Once he's on the platform, the heavyweight champ begins reading directly from the pages Kearns handed him. "Good afternoon, ladies and gents. For those of you who — " Dempsey pauses and looks closer at the paper and then continues with a puzzled shrug, "don't know me?" The audience predictably laughs. "I'm Jack Dempsey —

As that scene fades to black, you might suspect it would make for a fine ending to an episode, but we've got another one. A cab driver (Mark Havlis) brings Margaret's luggage into the house for her. Her mood still seems down. She calls for Katy and Lillian, but gets no response. However, Owen comes walking her way. All rested up and cleaned up from his revenge killing I suspect. Obviously, Sleater has been preoccupied, but with Margaret arriving at a train station and getting in a cab, don't you imagine the news of someone shooting Nucky would travel quickly and be the talk of the town? "Help you with that?" he offers. "No thank you," she replies, looking pouty. "Don't be daft, ma'am," Owen says as he picks up her luggage. She assents and he follows her. "Where are the children?" Margaret asks. "The girls took them down to the beach," he answers. "That's hardly Katy's job," she comments. "Boss gave 'em the afternoon,"


Tweet
Labels: Boardwalk Empire, Buscemi, Deadwood, Dickens, HBO, Michael Shannon, The Sopranos, TV Recap
TO READ ON, CLICK HERE
Sunday, October 02, 2011
Boardwalk Empire No. 14: Ourselves Alone
BLOGGER'S NOTE: This recap contains spoilers, so if you haven't seen the episode yet, move along.

By Edward Copeland
"Things seem to be changing faster than I realized," a character says at one point in tonight's episode of Boardwalk Empire. While this may be true in terms of the storyline, as for the series itself, it isn't and that's the main reason I find myself enjoying the show as much as I do. First and foremost — thank whatever higher power came up with the concept of screeners. My M.S. causes fatigue issues that prevent me from writing as fast as I used to, so when I pick a show to recap, it's because I have a real interest and without being able to see that week's show early, I can't do it, especially with a series such as Boardwalk Empire, where they rarely have a scene that isn't vital or might come into play later. (Bless HBO for all its support over the years, especially on Treme this year. I wanted badly to do recaps of Breaking Bad, but I'm not good enough for AMC though they still feel free to flood my email with press releases.) That's why my recaps grow so long — I don't want to risk leaving out something that might come prove pivotal down the road. For instance, tonight's episode brings back a character playing a crucial role who hasn't been mentioned since the very first episode. Recaps have become very prevalent on the Web, but it's almost a misnomer: I seem to be one of the few who actually tell what happened in the episode, sprinkling commentary throughout. The many characters and plots can prove complicated — even for me at times — so I try to help any confused fans there might be out there.
That being said, while I admit that I think Breaking Bad is the best series on television, Boardwalk Empire also is great and I love both shows for completely different reasons. It's not as if I can only pick one as in those silly debates where you can only love Chaplin or Keaton, Astaire or Kelly — as if they all can't be appreciated for their separate gifts. The same goes with great TV dramas. Breaking Bad is well acted, directed, written and plotted, as is Boardwalk Empire, but the shows appeal to me on completely different levels. Recently, Breaking Bad has been the narrative equivalent of the crystal meth Walter White manufactures (or did) and I love every minute. Boardwalk Empire also is well acted, written, directed and plotted (with some historical context tossed in), but I feel as if I'm luxuriating as I watch it. If Breaking Bad has been meth the


"Ourselves Alone" was written by Howard Korder and directed by David Petrarca and adds some interesting layers to the plots going on right now, even if it isn't as kinetically exciting as the premiere, but it does have great moments once again for Michael Kenneth Williams as Chalky, good stuff for Kelly Macdonald as Margaret and the welcome return of the phenomenal Michael Stuhlbarg as Arnold Rothstein. Honestly, someone should do a spinoff movie on Rothstein that stars Stuhlbarg. The episode opens on Valentine's Day, so we have an exact date in 1921 where we are, as Margaret rises for the day and comes down the stairs to find her maids Katy (Heather Lind) and Pauline (Amy Warren) congregating with the children's nanny Lillian (Jacqueline Pennewill) at the first floor landing looking over a newspaper. She asks if the children are up and Katy tells her they are breakfasting. Margaret starts to walk away, but stops and asks the servants if that is this morning's paper. Pauline whispers that she's going to find out anyway and hands her the paper. It bears the headline, "TREASURER THOMPSON ARRESTED." Pauline asks if they will be having dinner and Margaret asks why they wouldn't. Margaret tells Katy to make sure that the hallway rug is taken out and beaten before Mr. McGarrigle's arrival that night. She then goes into another room to use the phone and calls Eddie. Kessler tells her the paper is a lie because they left out that Mr. Thompson is innocent, but he can't talk because it's mayhem at the Ritz suite as he watches an investigator slice open the bottom of the couch in Nucky's office. Katy sticks her head in and Margaret asks her what kind of coat she has.
Last week, Nucky had Eli arrest Chalky for his own protection. Today, the two men find themselves sharing a jail cell. "You understand you are in a precarious situation," Nucky tells Chalky as the two men light up smokes. Thompson explains he had Chalky jailed to keep him safe, but it can't be coincidental that they suddenly came after him as well. "The Klan could have come for me any time," Chalky says. "Not as long as I was there to protect you," Nucky insists. Chalky asks why they thought Nucky suddenly wouldn't be there. Nucky asks where Chalky was on election night. "In the basement of the A.M.E. Church, handing out dollar bills to every able-bodied negro who came in," he replies. Thompson inquires about the whereabouts of his ward bosses that night, but White has no idea — he wasn't in the wards. Nucky quizzes him about the bosses, but Chalky has little to say about any of them except Neary. "Neary's been a sonuvabitch ever since I ran numbers" in Georgia, Chalky tells Nucky that Neary would come around for collections and enjoyed using his nightstick while taking them. Nucky continues to go down the list of his alderman, but Chalky interrupts. "You askin' the wrong question. Not one of them pikers got it in 'em to put up a squeal unless someone put 'em to it." The jailer arrives to tell Nucky that his lawyer Isaac Ginsburg has put up his bail. As Nucky gets up to leave, he advises Chalky to be patient. "I get my own Jew lawyer," White says.

"I won't pretend you're inclined to be warm to me. I won't insult you like that because before anything else, I have great respect for you, your wisdom, your achievements," a sharply dressed Jimmy says to Arnold Rothstein (Michael Stuhlbarg) who sits at the desk in his New York office, Lucky Luciano (Vincent Piazza) standing at his side. Rothstein takes a sip of his milk and smiles. "You're better spoken than I expected," he tells Jimmy. Darmody mentions that's because they have never really met, but Rothstein brings up that he and Luciano are acquainted. "We have someone in common," Jimmy admits, referring to Gillian. Rothstein turns to Luciano. "You hear, Charlie — discretion. Charlie volunteered to absent himself from this meeting. He felt his presence might be disruptive, but I counseled what?" he asks Luciano. "Never let the past get in the way of the future," Luciano responds. Jimmy tells Rothstein that they are all learning to which Rothstein inquires what he can learn from Darmody. "That things are changing in Atlantic



Eddie assists Nucky with his shave as Ginsburg (Peter Van Wagner) gives his client a rundown of what he knows about his legal situation thus far. The lawyer tells Thompson that it all stems from Gov. Edwards seeking to make a splash. As for Solomon Bishop, the state attorney: "The man is going to try very hard to put you in prison," Ginsburg tells him. "Fine. Tell me he's poor but honest," Nucky says. "He's married to a lesser Whitney and set his salary at one dollar anum, so he's certainly not poor. As for honest…you want to ask about the indictment. I do not have a copy of it yet. However, I gleaned from the court clerk that your ship is leaking," Ginsburg informs his client. Thompson wants to know who. Ginsburg can't provide names, but says there are two confidential witnesses prepared to testify to direct knowledge of voter intimidation, fraud, theft of ballot boxes and bribery. Ginsburg warns Nucky that reporters are swarming outside and asks if he wants a reporter by his side. "That's what guilty men do," Nucky responds. Ginsburg tells him he'll get to work. Eddie informs Nucky that Margaret has read the newspaper. Nucky asks about the children, but Eddie says she did not say. "The state police have banished me from the suite," Eddie tells his boss. "They were touching your possessions in ways I considered offensive." Nucky wipes his face, his shave completed, and asks Eddie, "Don't I have a treasurer's office somewhere?"
Nearly a century separates Walter and Skyler White of Albuquerque, N.M., on Breaking Bad and the couple Enoch "Nucky" Thompson and Margaret Schroeder of Atlantic City, N.J., and while both women certainly began their introduction (to us as television viewers at least) as moral, law-abiding citizens, both Skyler and Margaret have become embroiled in the seedier if not downright criminal side of the life of

The Commodore has invited more officials to join his conspiracy against Nucky — all of his ward bosses: Boyd (Edward McGinty), Damian Flemming, Jim Neary and George O'Neill (William Hill) — and all four showed, discussing things with Eli in the Commodore's grand living room as they await the Commodore's arrival, that seven-plus foot grizzly overseeing the proceedings. "This is Nucky's town, Eli," Damian says as they question who takes over if Thompson goes away. Eli borrows the Commodore's line, telling them that Nucky was weaned on


Lenore comes to visit Chalky at the jail saying their daughter Maybelle has a request: Her beau wants to call at the house. She asks when would be a good time. Chalky tells her a few days — he's awaiting advice of counsel. "Is he competent?" Lenore asks. Chalky tells her that he's a Hebrew gentleman. She says Lester was quite insistent about visiting him, but Chalky and Lenore agree that the teen shouldn't

Nucky and Eddie walk into his treasurer's office, shocking the secretary (Trisha McCormick) who Nucky mistakenly greets as Enid. She corrects him that her name is Eunice. He tells her to call the aldermen, the sheriff and the mayor and tell them to come at once. He then goes into his office and closes the door. After a moment, he opens it and adds, "I also need a florist."

As Margaret helps Katy with proper placing of the silverware, Pauline brings her a bouquet of roses for Valentine's Day, though the card isn't signed. Any joy at the gift doesn't last as Emily's shrieks interrupt the activities as her brother Teddy chases her with a hammer. Margaret grabs it and sends the boy to his room. Lillian comes in panting, saying they were building a birdhouse. A persistent knocking occurs at the back door. When Margaret answers it — hammer still in hand — a man with a thick Irish brogue (Charlie Cox) raises his hands in surrender. "I'm not a burglar, though I do confess to climbing out a window or two." He mistakes Margaret for a servant and asks for Mrs. Thompson. When told that there isn't one, he asks for the lady of the house and Margaret tells him that he's speaking to her. He introduces himself as Owen Sleater and says he works for Mr. McGarrigle. "You are quite early," Margaret declares. After Sleater puts his foot in his mouth a few more ways, Margaret asks what exactly he wants. "With your kind permission, I'm to ensure your house is secure for Mr. McGarrigle this evening," Owen replies. "We're not given to threatening our guests," Margaret tells him. "You do have a hammer." Margaret explains her son thinks it's a toy. Sleater asks where he is. "In his room," Margaret answers then, realizing that Sleater is making a serious inquiry. "He's seven." Sleater rules Teddy out as a threat and begins to survey the premises.
One cellmate's wheezing bothers a fellow prisoner, but the inmate doesn't get what he's saying at first. The wheezing inmate says he can't help it — he's catching a cold and asks where he's supposed to go. "He's got you there," Purnsley declares. "We're all in this together." Dunn describes the little place in his head where he goes that no one can get to and credits it for doing "three years in ankle chains like I was takin' a nap. Chalky White knows what I'm talkin' bout, don't he?" Chalky remains silent, keeping his book open as Purnsley continues. "I bet he up there right now, all soft and pillowy. Honeybee wife fetchin' plates of greens, roast beef, reading Tom Sawyer. Ain't that so, Chalky White?" Purnsley sits on the lower bunk next to Chalky who simply says, "Well, it could be." Purnsley deepens his voice to a threatening whisper, "Maybe I climb up there with you, jazz that woman up while you're lickin' the plate." Chalky calmly closes the novel. "You do what you want," Chalky says before turning and looking Dunn straight in the eye. "Just gonna be your right hand anyway." Purnsley pauses briefly before laughing and slapping Chalky on the arm. "That's how you play it, gentleman," Dunn proclaims as he stands. "Oh yeah, we gonna get along just fine."
Looking nervous, angry and hurt, Nucky looks out the window of the treasurer's office. He turns around as Mayor Bader rushes in asking, "Am I late?" Nucky isn't in good spirits, sternly inquiring, "Where the hell have you been?" Bader says he came as soon as he got the message. "Ninety minutes?" Bader tells him there are reporters everywhere and investigators snooping around. He's not proud to admit it, but Bader confesses that he's been hiding in his garage. Seeing only he and Nucky, he asks Thompson where everyone is. "I need you to tell me if you were approached about turning against me," Nucky states. The question stuns Bader who tells Nucky that he knows he's with him because of their business interests. "We're building things," Bader says. "Nobody came to you — not Neary, any of the bosses, not the Commodore?" Nucky asks. Nucky's nervousness infects Bader. "How bad is this?" Nucky admits he doesn't know yet while Bader wonders if they'll come after him. Nucky tries to calm Bader's worry about that. "I'm gonna beat this, Ed, and when I do I'm gonna remember who showed up here today and who didn't. Depend on that," Nucky tells him. As Nucky shows Bader out, Eunice tells him that Eddie called and that it's safe to return to the Ritz office.
After the meeting at the Commodore's, the four ward bosses hook up in an out-of-the-way spot to discuss the plot against Nucky. Neary remains the gung ho ringleader and Flemming the cautious naysayer with Boyd and O'Neill seeming to have no opinion of their own other than to end up on the winning side. "I don't see why things gotta change. Everybody's getting by," Flemming says. "Is that all you want from life, Damian?" Neary asks. "What else is there?" Flemming replies. "A pair of balls," Neary counters. Boyd questions Neary if there might be something more in it for him, but Neary says he'll get the same as everybody — "Less headaches, more green." O'Neill hasn't seen any problem with Nucky keeping the jack flowing. "Where were you last year?" Neary asks. "Armed robbery, shooting on the Boardwalk — that's not a man in control — and the election." O'Neil reminds him that they won. "Too goddamn close," Neary comments. Flemming doesn't see why a change in leadership means that Nucky has to go to jail. O'Neil wonders about the roads project that all of them have a stake in. Neary claims that will go on under the Commodore. "But it's Nucky's deal," Flemming says. Neary tells Flemming to get it through his skull — they aren't in charge. "The Commodore wants Nucky next to that fuckin' grizzly. That's what's gonna happen," Neary declares. "What's to keep us from winding up with him?" Flemming asks, referring to possible jail time. Neary assures them that the Commodore will put the fix in. Neary looks to each of the men. O'Neill and Boyd reluctantly nod that they are in while Flemming lights his cigarette and stays mum. "Damian, just say, 'Please' and 'Thank you,'" Neary tells him.
Jimmy heads to the Lower East Side where Meyer Lansky (Anatol Yusef) has set up an office for his continuous poker game behind the name of the business Schenkel & Bro. Darners & Weavers. Before he, Jimmy and Luciano begin their discussion, Meyer sends their teen worker Benny (Michael Zegen) out for cheese. The youth makes some odd noises, prompting Jimmy to ask if he's OK. Lansky assures him that he's fine, he just makes noises like that sometimes. Benny's last name happens to be Siegel. In the 1930s, he'll acquire a nickname he

Margaret tries to straighten the rug in the entry hall herself, unhappy with the job Katy did when Owen Sleater wanders by and lends a hand. She asks the Irishman if he's been traveling around the U.S. much. "With Mr. McGarrigle. Filling the coffers. New York, Boston, Philadelphia," he tells her of their journeys seeking support for the cause back home. "Ourselves alone," Margaret says. Sleater informs Margaret that her Gaelic translation is a bit off. "Sinn Féin — we ourselves. That's a bit closer," Sleater remarks. "Either case, that's what we're about — who else would fight for us?" Margaret inquires about what it is he does exactly for McGarrigle. "As you see — clear the path," he replies, adding that he was a livestock inspector prior to the rebellion, then he went to fight in the north. "I make you for the Lonesome West," Owen guesses about Margaret's Irish origins. She tells him she's from Kerry actually. He asks if any relatives remain in Ireland. "No — here apparently," she answers. "Then you won't have to choose sides."

Almost as soon as Nucky gets back to the Ritz, he makes a beeline for his closet but when he removes the false panel, he finds that both the ledger and the moneybag are missing. Eddie calls to him, announcing that Ward Boss Flemming has arrived to see him. Nucky returns to his office. "Nuck, I tried talking to them. I said they were making a mistake. I told them you were too smart to get sandbagged by something like this, They wouldn't listen. All they can see are dollar signs," Flemming tells Nucky. The phone on Nucky's desk begins to ring, but Flemming continues talking and Thompson seems in no rush to answer it. "It's like the Commodore has cast some voodoo spell on them," Damian says as Nucky answers the phone, "Yes." "All alone big brother?" Eli's voice can be heard. "How does it feel sitting at your fancy desk all by yourself?" Nucky speaks as calmly as he can muster. "Eli, please listen closely. If now, right now, you tell me you want to get out of this, I will help you.…I'm prepared to hear your side of it. I will help you — if you tell me right now because in a minute


Jimmy has done well at Lansky's poker game, so he asks Benny Siegel to cash him out. He takes note of two men having a heated conversation with Meyer in his office. When they exit, one of the other players invites the pair to join the game as they are always looking for new victims. The taller Italian, Incrocci (Mario Macaluso), asks, "Why's every kike got to be a wise ass?" Benny fires back, "Why does every dago have to be dumb as fuck?" Incrocci threatens to bury Benny in his diaper and he starts making clucking noises again until Lansky comes out and says Benny's name and gets him to stop. Jimmy hands his chips to Benny who gives him a large wad of bills which he slides into his pocket. The other Italian man, Scarpelli (John Cenatiempo), distinguished by his hat and his silence, continues to stay mum. Lansky tries to keep the situation on a strictly business level, thanking them for their full and frank discussion. Incrocci isn't impressed. He's more interested in Lansky respecting the terms and tells Scarpelli they need to get going — "This place smells" — and report back to his uncle. Jimmy asks who they were after the men leave. Lansky explains that they represent Masseria. The name means nothing to Darmody. Benny describes him as a fat ass who thinks he owns the Lower East Side. "Just a simple misunderstanding," Lansky insists. Jimmy slips a tip to Benny and leaves.
*SPECIAL NOTE: Thanks to Mr. Barthelemy Atsin, who was kind enough to help me by telling me which actors played each of the other cellmates in the following scene with Chalky and Dunn Purnsley. In addition to acting, Atsin also is an artist so you might check out his website.
It's fairly clear that Purnsley, so well played by Erik LaRay Harvey, has keyed in on the fact that Chalky can't read so he decides to rub it in his face. Dunn asks Chalky, "What's that scamp Tom up to now?" Chalky points to an illustration in the copy of David Copperfield and says that Tom met this little one and they had a sweet time chatting and then she played the piano. Purnsley then sticks one of his digits into


Margaret finds herself playing hostess to John McGarrigle (Ted Rooney) and Ernie Moran alone as Nucky has yet to arrive home. Owen Sleater sits off to the side, not dining at the table but flirting with Katy each time she passes. The sour-looking McGarrigle hasn't eaten

As Jimmy prepares to exit the Lower East Side, he moves his knife from his boot to the back of his shirt. He must be prescient. As he walks through a park, he's confronted by Incrocci and Scarpelli, who demand his take from the poker game. Jimmy keeps his arms raised as Incrocci keeps a gun trained on him. He tells them he put the cash in his boot. As Scarpelli looks, Jimmy tells him it's in the other one. As Scarpelli switches, Jimmy kicks him hard, pulls the blade out and slits Incrocci's throat before doing the same to Scarpelli, whom he leaves bleeding into a fountain.
After Nucky and his guest have moved to another room to discuss the issues at hand, McGarrigle makes his appeal. "Mr. Thompson, the Irish people are at war against a barbaric form. The English murder us in our sleep. They set fire to our homes. Last month, they put the torch to Cork City and shot the firemen come to fight the blaze. We need guns and the money to buy them. Mr. Moran tells me you are a loyal son of Erin and I call upon that loyalty now," McGarrigle says. Nucky recommends that McGarrigle go to the next meeting of the Ancient Order of the Celts. A disappointed McGarrigle tells Nucky that "cash suits us better." Nucky says, "I say that myself, but today is not the day." Moran speaks up to inform Nucky that there is another matter. McGarrigle speaks of his man and Sleater steps forward to introduce himself. McGarrigle announces that Owen has decided to stay behind in the states. Moran asks Nucky if he might be able to help Sleater find employment. Thompson tells him to stop by the Ritz office tomorrow.

After the guests have left, Margaret sees Nucky slumping in the chair by the fireplace. She starts to leave him be, but he leans around and says they need to talk. Margaret asks if they have a case and Nucky admits that they do. "Who is against you?" she asks. "The ward bosses — all except Flemming. The Commodore is pulling the strings and I think he has Jimmy." Margaret notes that Nucky hasn't mentioned his brother. "Eli — Eli is betraying me," Nucky admits sadly. "I didn't hear a word from you since last night," Margaret says with a bit of anger in her voice. Nucky tells her that he didn't want her to find out. "How could I not?" she ask him. "I just keep people satisfied. That's what I do," Nucky justifies. Margaret tells him that he knows now that that's not possible. Nucky informs her


Tweet
Labels: Astaire, Awards, Boardwalk Empire, Books, Breaking Bad, Chaplin, Coens, Dickens, Fiction, Gene Kelly, HBO, Keaton, Oscars, The Sopranos, The Wire, Treme, TV Recap, Vidal
TO READ ON, CLICK HERE