Barry (2.2) - Pain, Monotony, & Some Sharp Writing

The second season premiere teased a deeper dive into the world of each of our main ensemble of characters and in Barry’s second episode, it certainly lives up to that tease. In one of the tighter writing displays I have seen in a 30-minutes television show recently, Barry explores four different characters at differing lengths: Barry, Cousineau, Sally, and Fuches.

The episode starts with more flashbacks to Barry’s time in Afghanistan as he is undertaking a job for Noho Hank. The first episode established these flashbacks in a highly tense scene, but as this episode continues to return to them, it’s clear that Barry’s reckoning with his past and questions about who he is are going to play a large role this season. Barry approaches this process tentatively and curiously. At one point, he asks Noho Hank if he is an evil person. (To which Hank responds, “Of course” which is particularly delightful because it is obvious he thinks that is what Barry wants to hear). At the same time, when Cousineau suggests he recount his time in Afghanistan for part of their upcoming show, Barry refuses. He has not reconciled what happened with Afghanistan, his occupation as a hitman, and who he is. Watching that transpire in real time, a blank expression regularly falling over his face as he thinks about anything but the present, is daunting. As is customary in Barry though, the episode is also laden with moments of brevity (albeit quite dark per usual) such as when Barry enters Cousineau’s office and Cousineau calls him “Pvt. Pyle.” Beyond such moments that stick out in the audience’s mind as quotable, Taofik Kolade’s (Atlanta) writing seamlessly moves from one character to another.

Other than Cousineau’s acting career, the audience has not yet been let in on much of his background – until this episode. While not much of it is too emotionally impactful, it starts to widen the breadth of scenes featuring Henry Winkler, and that is something we should all be happy about. The lack of emotional resonance in these scenes feels curiously purposeful too. Cousineau starts seemingly the first conversation he has had with his estranged son in some time with, “Were you planned? No.” That is a hell of a way to try and mend a fractured relationship. Nonetheless, Winkler’s performance as Cousineau inspires a rooting interest in the character. His narcissism is ever-present but there is a reward in feeding into that narcissism. It allows both the writer and the audience to explore the character deeper, which is what we have now started to get in this episode.

Sally’s arc in this episode is a muted and entrancing combination of Taofik Kolade’s writing and Sarah Goldberg’s performance. Goldberg’s ability to navigate the waters of her character being a mediocre actress and not playing the entire arc for jokes is impressive. One of the best moments in the episode comes as she is trying to figure out what event she is going to recreate for the upcoming show, and Cousineau lets her talk herself into discussing her survival through an abusive marriage. It is just a moment of Sally talking on stage, alone, with the hum of the air conditioner. That hum is vital because as she goes silent and tears start to water her eyes, all you can hear is that hum as it moves from mundane and innocuous to haunting.

While the exploration into Fuches is the shortest, it is also the most important moving forward. We knew Fuches was a bit of a bumbling idiot, but we grossly underestimated how bad he is at lying. He lasted approximately 30 seconds into an interrogation before he flipped on Barry. “Is that a guy? He looks gender liquid to me.” has to be the worst response you could possibly imagine to “Do you know him?” when you know the guy. In fairness, this is the same person who gave up his DNA by drinking a Coke in the interrogation room last episode though. Fuches is going to spend the rest of the season trying to save himself by getting Barry to incriminate himself on tape. There is a sweet irony in that given Fuches himself has spent these first two episodes doing nothing but incriminating himself.

This all occurs in one 30-minute episode. Admittedly the episode will not stand out as impactful amongst some of Barry’s first season highlights, but that speaks to the strength of the show. Even more than that, it speaks to Kolade’s writing. There is not a wasted moment in the episode. The characters we get in small chunks this episode like Noho Hank also make quite the impression. As Barry’s internal struggles continue to unfold as everything around him falls apart, we are headed for darker, cathartic, and more humorous places in the weeks to come.