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Release date: 11 November 2012
User Votes: 8.1
Countries: USA,
Stars: Andrew Lincoln, Laurie Holden, Norman Reedus, See full cast and crew,
Genres: Drama, Horror, Thriller,
MPAA Rating: Unknown
Runtime: 45 minutes
Plot
At the prison, Rick is nearly catatonic in his grief and heads off on his own inside the prison. Daryl and Maggie go off to find formula for the newborn...
Story
At the prison, Rick is nearly catatonic in his grief and heads off on his own inside the prison. Daryl and Maggie go off to find formula for the newborn. In Woodbury, the residents celebrate their survival with a town picnic. A suspicious Michonne takes the opportunity to look around and finds some walkers locked away. She kills them only to find she has interfered with a research project. Unable to convince Andrea that they are really prisoners, Michonne leaves on her own. Andrea is not too keen on the evening festivities. One of the Governor's secrets is revealed.
Batshit Insane Rick” could’ve carried a full hour), and they’re violent, but they also have tremendous power, both in terms of momentum and character. While I had reservations about the context of Lori’s death, it does give everyone at the prison something to do this week, which is good; and seeing it as yet another way to drive Rick out of his ever-loving mind gives it some purpose beyond the immediate shock and horror.
While the rest of the episode is far from terrible, little in it reaches the feverish intensity of Rick’s few scenes, and the dialogue is a big reason why. It’s an easy criticism to make—those silly writers, they can’t write how people talk—but it’s worth focusing on what, specifically, makes the conversations on The Walking Dead so regularly tedious. In “Say The Word,” various characters chat with various other characters, laying out what’s on their mind in straightforward, declarative sentences. Glenn is upset at all the death, and sort of wishes they’d killed the other convicts as soon as they’d met them. Michonne doesn’t trust the Governor. The Governor wants Andrea and Michonne to stay. Merle is an asshole. And so on. This is better than season two, thank goodness; the Governor is still somewhat mysterious (why is he so invested in keeping Michonne and Andrea around? Is it because he wants more babies in Woodbury? Is he attracted to Andrea?), and Michonne’s lines are so minimal it makes those few things she says seem much more important than they otherwise might. She also gets off the occasional good line, like “People with nothing to hide don’t usually feel the need to say so.”
Still, it’s hard not to sigh when any two people on this show get to chatting, and the reason is pretty simple: There’s nothing to talk about beyond the immediate threat. The scenes in Woodbury work on a basic level because we know that Michonne is probably right, and we also know that Andrea will come to regret her refusal to listen. Plus, the Governor has serious issues; between him and his men shooting a bunch of innocent National Guardsmen and taking their stuff, the backroom full of heads in aquariums, and the fact that the man keeps his zombie daughter locked away in his house, it’s evident he’s not a well man. But at least that means he has a character, and a rough kind of complexity. Who is Michonne? Apart from the stuff she had when we first saw her—the sword, the mouthless walkers—there’s nothing to her. All we know is that she doesn’t trust Woodbury, and while that might say something about her (she’s cautious, has good instincts), her bad feelings are more a way to foreshadow the dangers the town represents than anything else. And Andrea? She’s—blonde. And she kind of has a chip on her shoulder, but it amounts to just arguing a lot.
The difficulty of a genre show is finding a way to balance obvious, general reactions (“Oh my God, zombies!” or “Oh my God, vampires!”, i.e., what basically anyone would say in a situation with zombies and/or vampires) and character-specific reactions. Take, say, Buffy The Vampire Slayer. One of Joss Whedon’s greatest gifts is being able to find his characters’ voices. Sure, they all tend to tell jokes in roughly the same way, but Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Giles are distinct personalities, and as the series went on, part of what made it so entertaining and moving to watch was that you got a rough sense of how, say, Buffy would handle this situation, or Willow would handle that. Which meant that their dialogue, in addition to being witty, had more going on than just basic, “This is literally what’s going through this person’s mind right now” stuff. It also meant there were reasons to team up various characters with other characters. A Xander and Giles storyline had potential beyond just the rudimentary details of plot. There was a history to work off of, and comic (and dramatic) potential to be drawn from clashing personalities.
The Walking Dead is a lot grimmer than Buffy ever is, for good reason, but despite the significant improvement the series has shown this season, it’s still flailing when it comes to finding ways to make these people interesting beyond their situation. Part of the appeal of good TV is that we want to hang out with characters we see every week—we’re drawn back for the laughs and the excitement, sure, but there’s also that sense of getting comfort from familiar faces. By the second season, I would’ve been happy to watch a monster-free episode of Buffy. Try and imagine what a zombie-free episode of The Walking Dead would be like. And no, I don’t mean one that has Rick and the Governor squaring off. Just an hour of Glenn, Maggie, Daryl, Hershel, the blonde one (Beth), Carl, Carol (if she isn’t dead), and Rick, sitting around, looking morose. Somebody would tell a story about how much better life was before the dead started rising. Everyone would sigh. Carl might stare at Beth for a while. Rick would say, “Where’s T-Dog?” and then someone would whisper in his ear.
There’s no reason to watch any of these people (apart from Daryl, who is awesome) beyond the promise that, yes, they will eventually have to deal with zombies, or psychopaths, or psychopaths with zombies. That’s fine so long as the action is going, and it’s easy to overlook when the writers are willing to kill off major characters every couple of episodes just to keep us guessing. (Last season, I spent half the time bemoaning the lack of major deaths, so I guess I should be thankful that particular policy has been changed.) A show called The Walking Dead is always going to have the walking dead around. But if it wants to make the episodes between those big moments work, scenes like Glenn and Hershel’s chat through the prison fence need to have something unexpected, something that makes them more than just actors reacting to the horrors at hand. Try humor (Maggie’s “I’m not putting that in my bag,” after Daryl shot a possum, was a throwaway line; it was also hilarious, and had more warmth and humanity in it than anything else in the hour), try individual goals, try anything beyond what we’re getting. As it is, I’m more scared of the scenes with no physical threat than I am of slavering monsters.
Plot-wise, “Say The Word” does have some interesting ideas. For one, it immediately addresses concerns about feeding Lori and Rick’s baby. Aside from general concerns about the show’s direction, this is a good plot, as it has both immediate importance and a symbolic value: As much as nobody wants the baby to die, it’s even more important saving her considering how much was lost to bring her into the world. No one says out loud, “If we can keep this child alive, we can prove it’s possible to find some hope and goodness in this awful world!” but that’s clearly what drives Maggie and Daryl. The episode also shows various characters using zombie-killing as a way to “blow off steam,” as the Governor puts it: Rick, in the aftermath of Lori’s death; Michonne, at least in part to get her and Andrea thrown out of town (this is the Governor’s theory, but it makes sense); Merle and Milton turn it into a kind of alpha-male game; and, of course, the Governor’s “festivities,” in a which a group of toothless, chained zombies snarl as Merle and another guy fight between them.
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