A despicable but fascinating criminal, a compelling and complex victim, and a heartbroken detective who lets it all in as part of his search for the truth. This is the heart of this show. And it is all vividly present in this episode.moreless
9.5
"Superb"
(Warning: spoilers ahead.)
The crime at the center of this episode is one set into motion by various acts of carelessness. A businessman taps into money he does not have based on an assumption about the future of his business, and finds himself in hot water. One bad choice after another pulls him into a shady criminal underworld. His father scorns his pleas for help, having grown impatient with a son he finds disappointing. A loan shark deals with non-payment with the ruthlessness one would expect from a seasoned criminal.
But none of these individuals are what this reviewer would think of as "evil." The loan shark is calculating, certainly, but his criminal behavior is the product of pure greed, not sadism. Where the evil comes into this episode is the "help" the loan shark seeks out in his effort to collect payment. War criminal Simon Matic is utterly devoid of sympathy or concern for the well-being of others. A well-drawn example of a sociopath, he embodies a very real kind of evil that one often comes up against in everyday life. Our culture rewards the ruthless pursuit of personal goals at the expense of all else, and as such, we find many sociopaths in our midst; this observation can be seen as a central theme of this episode.
It is interesting to see the contrast between Lucas Coulter, Lucas's father Melvyn, Carl Pettijohn, and Simon Matic as examples of varying degrees of the presence or absence of the ruthlessness required to meet certain standards of success in our society. Hapless Lucas is a failure by this standard, not insensitive or cunning enough to pull off even the relatively minor crime of embezzlement, but is by far the most sympathetic character of the four. His father still has some conscience, but is more adept at cold calculation than his son, and we can see the result in his emotional distance from his own family.
Pettijohn is ruthless and indifferent to an extent, but not to the level of Matic. Where Pettijohn is willing to employ violence and scare tactics as means to an end, Matic has learned to enjoy the experience of using force, domination, and terror as much as, if not more than, the material rewards he reaps from his extortion. A fully realized sadist, Matic brags to Lucas's daughter Maggie, whom he rapes while in captivity, that weak men like her father are "food for wolves." His cruel exploitation of the weak gives him satisfaction and a sense of mastery, power, and control.
Maggie is taken in by Matic's views in an intriguing on-screen presentation of "Stockholm syndrome" (in which a victim of a crime identifies with the perpetrator). Maggie believes her captor that he is strong where her father is weak, and in her pain and anger concludes that perhaps Matic is just somebody who knows what he wants and knows how to get it. This take on sociopathic behavior is one that is also appealing to many adults; one can see this view in Maggie's grandfather Melvyn's disappointment in his son because Lucas is not more sociopathic and ruthless in his efforts to succeed in the fiercely competitive world of business.
Maggie is fortunate that the detective on her case is one who is especially sensitive to such false beliefs about what constitutes real power and mastery. In his work, and in his life outside his work, Goren has seen the results of the seduction of the exploitation of the weak that many mistake for power. Ultimately, he has seen that giving in to the urge to hurt, manipulate, or exploit the vulnerable in order to get what one wants or to find some personal advantage is itself the most pathetic kind of weakness. Goren sees what Maggie sees in Matic, having arguably experienced Stockholm syndrome himself (in the episode "A Person of Interest" it is revealed that Goren identified with his father and blamed his mother, vulnerable and suffering from mental illness, for his father's running out on their family), and intimately and passionately knows the falsity of this view.
Goren uses this intimate knowledge to get inside of Maggie's head and turn her from her alliance and loyalty to her abuser. One wonders if he does it as much because of his empathetic connection with Maggie, and his desire to free her from the false views that keep her locked in suffering, as he does it for the sake of the practical necessity of getting her to cooperate to make the case against Matic stick. Either way, it is unsettling to see Goren using his powerful interrogation techniques on a young, traumatized crime victim, but the result is ultimately cathartic and healing for Maggie and for Goren--and for the viewer as well.
The look on Goren's face when he embraces Maggie after she finally breaks down and admits her fear of her vulnerability and of being hurt again is poignant. It speaks to a great empathy for Maggie's fear and anguish in the wake of her trauma, sadness at a world in which such things happen, and a determination to bring Matic to justice for his actions. Knowledge of the truth is freeing, but it is also a cross to bear: one must be willing to turn to the suffering of the world without the protection of denial. Goren takes in Maggie's suffering very deeply, and the viewer can see too that his wisdom about these matters runs just as deep as his compassion.
In the interrogation room, Matic does not come across as powerful at all, but weak and even pathetic, completely in thrall to his misplaced vanity. In an inspired moment one would guess was conceived by D'Onofrio, who has shown himself to be adept at physically conveying emotional truths many times in his acting career, Goren drives this point home bodily as well. He does this by putting Matic in his place by overpowering him physically, but in a subtle and restrained way. (One can only imagine what Goren would really like to do in a room alone with a fellow like Matic, did he not keep such careful watch over his own antisocial and violent impulses.)
Ultimately, however, Goren rightly attributes the victory over Matic to Maggie herself, whose confrontation with her own pain, fear, and vulnerability took a lot more courage and personal power than a person like Matic could even begin to conceive of, much less embody. Real power and strength are not found in exploiting others or in overpowering the vulnerable. They are not even found in the display of power and force by those on the side of "good" against those on the side of "evil" (such as in Goren's putting Matic in his place in the interrogation room). Instead, they are found in the bravery and the willingness to face difficult and painful realities and to place doing good for others and doing the right thing over one's own personal gain or comfort.
In their shared experience as victims of exploitation by those who used their power and position to dominate and bully others, Goren and Maggie also share the same sort of heroism. What makes them both heroes is bound up in the realization that conquering, exploitation, and selfish ruthlessness are not synonymous with power, but with weakness. In their actions, Goren and Maggie both demonstrate that it is the surrender to one's fears and vulnerability, and the ability to willingly submit to the rigors required to engage in brave action for the common good, that are where true power and mastery are found. This well-acted, well-written, emotionally powerful episode aims right for the heart of some of the most penetrating mysteries and concerns of human existence, and it does not miss its mark.moreless