Big Love: The Big Chill

If you thought Roman Grant looked like death warmed over in previous seasons of Big Love, well, that was nothing compared to what he looked like when he literally ended up on ice in Sunday's Season 4 premiere. The cold-hearted prophet of Juniper Creek brought new meaning to the notion of the big chill after his wife Adaleen stashed him among sides of beef and slabs of bacon in a walk-in freezer at the compound. And the discovery of the body by his daughter Nicki (who is unlikely to ever eat a BLT again) set off a farcical sequence that culminated with Roman's apparitional reappearance at the site of Bill Henrickson's soon-to-open casino.

As a thawing Roman bounced back and forth—first in son Alby's van, then in Bill's vehicle—I felt as though I was watching some mutant love child of Big Love and Weekend At Bernie's. Let's call it Roman's Holiday.

I'm by no means ready to write off Big Love, but there were moments last night when I suspected that a toothy ocean predator somewhere was beginning to wonder just what that water skier in the leather coat was planning to do. There's still too much that's good about the show, from Jeanne Tripplehorn's performance as the long-suffering Barb to yes, Big Love's willingness to exploit polygamy, religious fundamentalism, the cultural symbolism of crab legs and salmon, suburban family life, big box stores, and Indian casinos for darkly comedic purposes. Props, too, for this episode's mini subplot involving Kenny Rogers and a forest fire outside of Boise.

But what I found most compelling in the show's early seasons was the family's desire to live what they considered a normal and devout life in a world that would consider them pariahs. Bill and wives one, two, and three all shared a relationship that, while exponentially complicated (and no doubt reprehensible to many), did seem to have a certain loving plausibility to it.

Not that there aren't growing tensions. But the wives have always appeared sincere in their attempts to both serve Bill as patriarch and balance their own needs and personal aspirations—all while maintaining a three-headed relationship among themselves that exists largely separate from him. When Barb asked Bill about the status of his marriage and sex life with Nicki (euphemistically phrased as "Have you repaired it yet?"), her concern appeared genuine.

(And Nicki, if you were wondering, the answer is that he's just not that into you. Speaking of which, it's nice to see Ginnifer Goodwin rebound from that debacle of a movie and take her character of Margene to a different level.)

Bill's low-point-beer blandness always helped Big Love. But as the show has progressed, his combination of profit motive and prophet complex has led him and his family down a path that was hard to envision earlier in the series. Given the fact that he grew up in a religious compound and with a genome culled from Bruce Dern and Grace Zabriskie, maybe it's no surprise at all. Because let's face it, Bill does come from a family in which, "I was wrong in attempting to hasten your demise," qualifies as an apologia for a near-suffocation.

Bill is a batch of contradictions, and he's blithely unaware of most of them. As he addressed the casino workers, he spoke nobly of correcting past wrongs perpetrated against Native Americans (they didn't buy it). Later, he said the family needed "to be careful not to step on anyone's moccasins." This from a man who is reportedly planning to get into politics later this season, which could lead to multiple appearances as Keith Olbermann's worst person in the world and a likely spot as Sarah Palin's running mate in 2012.

At episode's end, Bill was left to confront the unlikely realization of his grandest ambitions. He had started his own church, the casino's opening was a wild success, and Roman was dead. But what's that phrase—be careful what you pray for? Because when Jerry, his casino partner, confronted him with a damning bit of evidence, you have to wonder whether Bill was pondering a future he hadn't considered. All hat. No chattel.