The zombies came out of the woodwork, the survivors found a place to call home, and the time passed all too quickly. That sums up first impressions from last night's
The Walking Dead season 3 premiere. Going a little deeper, we're really starting to see how the cast of characters is starting to deal with this new situation, now that zombie apocalypse has become their new normal.
With the men bearded and Lori about to pop, the Season 3 premiere catches us up with Rick Grimes and Co. several months after we saw them last. While some of the women have an almost oppressed air about them under the new Ricktatorship (whether one has to do with the other remains to be seen), many group members have learned to be grateful for his leadership in keeping them alive this long. Even Carol -- formerly one of Rick's biggest detractors -- tells Darryl as much, saying, "Shane couldn't have done it."
Speaking of Carol and Darryl, that is one of many relationships that seems to be still evolving. Largely, the characters are, relationship-wise, much the same as they were at the end of Season 2. But we're starting to see people beginning to come together, or to at least accept enough to their situation to start to seek a semblance of normality. Carol is, herself, almost giddy in her freedom from her abusive husband -- and even from the responsibility of having to keep her daughter safe. But it's a sad giddiness, tainted by loneliness -- and it's one actor Melissa McBride plays perfectly, with just the right mixture of fun and desperation.
While Carol's seems to be a journey to find her humanity, buried beneath years of familial oppression, for much of the group, the struggle is retaining what humanity they still have. Rick has come a long way from his first encounter with a Walker -- and the viewer is forced to wonder whether or not the change is for the better. When Rick met the walker -- well, crawler -- lovingly known as Bicycle Girl, he was filled with a mixture of revulsion and sadness. When he finally put her down, it was with a distinct air of compassion. He was sorry. He was saddened for the human being she used to be.
But when they cleared the prison, it was all business. Dispatch the infestation. Dispose of the leftovers. There was even a moment, as Rick stood in his tower, picking off walkers through his scoped rifle, where he actually smiled. From way up there, apart from the danger, he was almost having fun. The grin was slight, but it was such a stark contrast from who he
was, that it was as jarring as a slap in the face.
Even so, as he struggles to control his temper over his wife's multiple betrayals, Rick is determined to retain his basic humanity. Nowhere is this seen in more relief than an early scene in the episode in which his son, Carl, has found a couple cans of dog food. Hungry after a long day of walking and killing, the boy sits down with a can opener and prepares to eat. Rick, hearing the sound of the can being opened, turns and investigates. When the realization hits him, he angrily throws the can into a fireplace and looks around the room. No words are necessary. For Rick, actions speak far louder. "We aren't there yet," he doesn't say. "This far, and no farther."
It is these tiny moments that represent the storytelling talent of the TWD crew. The story of the survivors' humanity is no longer talked out in arguments and monologues, but played out on the faces and in the actions of the characters. As the characters themselves are evolving into creatures who can survive this new ecosystem that puts them lower on the food chain, the writers are evolving in their ability to tell a story by showing us, one piece at a time, what it means to find -- and lose -- ourselves.
"Visitor Bob," a unique look at the bogeyman by Ellen C. Maze
