"Those times... they were like... tremors. This... this is the big one. Like the world is gonna end."
Anyone else remember Nyan Cat? Nyan Cat, that cheery little pixel kittie, flying through space with a rainbow contrail, meowing along to a synthetic beat?
I do. I remember Nyan Cat making the rounds at my office at the time, and when it popped up in "The Garveys At Their Best", my immediate reaction was "Nyan Cat! Boy, does that feel like a relic from the before times."
"The Garveys At Their Best" is about just that: the before times. Specifically, the world of Mapleton on October 13 and 14, 2011. On a day like any other day, and a day unlike any other day, after which nothing and no one would ever be the same.
The show never suggested that any of the characters had perfectly happy lives before 10/14, and this episode is largely about the weak spots in its characters and families: the kind of weak spots that could remain just that, or could lead to a complete structural collapse. There are some not-subtle shots of actual cracks—in the Garvey's wall, in Kevin's "My Hero" coffee cup—to accompany the flaws threading through their lives and relationships.
The episode title and the upbeat music (more on that later) that is the soundtrack for each of Kevin's morning runs are nods to a kind of domestic success that is more of a superficial gloss than a reflection of actual happiness. Kevin jogs through his beautiful town on a beautiful day, waving at smiling neighbors, but the illusion of small-town utopia starts to fade just as Kevin yanks out his earbuds (funny how retro those seem now). He slows his jog, reaches for his secret stash of cigarettes, and we immediately know that all was not well in the Garvey household. It was a nice illusion for the minute or two that it lasted.
Laurie, meanwhile, accuses Kevin of dishonesty by omission, while hiding her own nearly 12-week pregnancy. Consciously or unconsciously, she is also testing his readiness and willingness to expand their family by suggesting that they get a dog. Their youngest child, Jill, is swiftly aging past the point of needing her mother ("It's actually completely natural. They don't need her anymore"), and Laurie is clearly aware of Kevin's dissatisfaction with their life. Her expression when asked if she'd like to hear her fetus's heartbeat told us that she did indeed want the baby growing inside of her, a nurturing instinct in sharp contrast to Kevin's resentful aversion to getting a dog.
Nora's life also seemed fairly happy, despite her joblessness. But the cracks were there. Her reaction was muted, but we can assume that her husband's late return from work combined with his limp interest in her job interview clued her in that he was being unfaithful. Her kids, pouncing adorably on her one morning, turned into demanding brats the following day. We can only imagine Nora's thoughts as suspicions of her husband's infidelity grew, and her children were being unbearable. Her last words to her family were her shouting, "Goddamn it! I said two hands!"
And then they were gone. She must have wondered whether she wished just a little too loud in her mind for her family to disappear at that moment. Did Laurie wonder if her ambivalence about her pregnancy led to its sudden end? Did Kevin feel suddenly punished for committing adultery? Could baby Sam's mother, at wit's end while he wailed in the backseat, have wished him away for even a second? I'm starting to see what guilt may be silently powering the Guilty Remnant.
Leftovers:
— Is anyone else wondering what Laurie's Zen-koan-of-the-day calendar had to say on 10/14?
— From his desire to save the rampaging deer, to his bargaining with Dean to save the feral dogs, Kevin seems to have a bit of a savior complex. Did that play any part in his getting together with Laurie after Tommy's father "did a terrible thing" to her and Tommy (presumably by leaving them)?
— It was surprisingly not-weird to see Laurie as a successful therapist (hi, Patti! I missed you!), and hear her after a season of silence. I haven't given Laurie Brenneman enough credit for the many volumes she has spoken and stories she has told with her eyes alone.
— Speaking of Patti, I wonder whether her transition from an abused wife with little self-worth to the ruthless leader of the Guilty Remnant was fueled to some degree by enjoying the world's most epic "I told you so".
— I loved the visual effect of the lights powered by the kids' circuit suddenly going dark on Tommy's face as members of their circuit disappeared.
— The song Kevin was listening to while running was "The Girl from King Marie", by Jody Reynolds:
There was a solitary tree standing in the meadow green
Where we would sit and pass the time away
Lightning flashed across the sky, and when I opened up my eyes
She was gone, the girl from King Maree
In the opening scene, the song cuts off just before "she was gone". The other song we hear in this episode, Jill singing "Without You", also foreshadows the disappearances to come:
I can't take one more sleepless night without you, without you
I won't soar, I won't climb
without you, I'm paralyzed, without you...
Quotes:
Kevin: "It's a cat?"
Jill: "Yeah. But it has a pop tart for its body, and it's just shootin' through space, and it has rainbows comin' out of its butt, and it's just really happy about it."
Kevin: "I don't get it."
Jill: "No, dad. You don't."
Nora: "As far as you're concerned, for the next four weeks, I don't have a family."
OUCH.
Kevin: "A man said to the universe, 'Sir, I exist.' 'However,' the universe replied, 'the fact has not created in me a sense of obligation.'"
Kevin, Jr.: "Why isn't it enough?"
Kevin, Sr.: "Because every man rebels against the idea that this is fuckin' it. Fights windmills, saves fuckin' damsels, all in search of greater purpose. You have no greater purpose... Because it is enough."
This is a contrast to his speech to Kevin, Jr. in "Solace for Tired Feet", when he said, "This is your invitation. This is your purpose."
Woman in car: "Are you ready?"
Kevin: "Excuse me?"
Woman in back seat: "[Whispering] I think he's someone else."
Woman in car: "Okay. I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."
I have no idea what that was all about, but I expect we'll find out.
Kevin: "It's the deer!"
Laurie: "It's trapped. You better go save it."
Kevin: "Fuck you, Laurie."
The Woman: "I don't know why I just... I feel sad. I mean, it was a fucking animal. Are you a good guy?"
Kevin: "What?"
The Woman: "Are you a good guy?"
Kevin: "No."
The Woman: "You want to come in?"
Overall Rating:
After about the fourth or fifth episode, I stopped hoping for more flashbacks. I figured, well, this is a show about processing trauma, not about the trauma itself, and I made my peace with following the story where it picked up years after the departure.
So I was pleasantly surprised when we got an entire episode about the days leading up to 10/14. I enjoyed it, but getting a taste, I still wanted more. The focus on the main characters generally works well, but I'd still love to know what happened in the immediate aftermath of the departure, on both a small and large scale. The Leftovers doesn't appear to be interested in tackling that, but I'd take a spin-off series (are you listening, HBO?).
For an episode about an actual apocalypse, "The Garveys At Their Best" felt oddly slight. I expect that season finale will pack more of a wallop, but "The Garveys At Their Best" will have to be satisfied with...
Three out of four pop-tart cats flying through space with rainbows coming out of their butts,
Mothra





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