Noah Hawley is an ambitious man, ain't he? Three years ago, he voyaged into the creatively perilous world of TV show adaptations of movies by making a TV show out of the 1996 movie Fargo and created something utterly fantastic in the process. For the second season of that program, he brought the proceedings to the 1970's, widened the scope and managed to deliver something even better than that first season. Just earlier this year, Hawley was the creative head on another FX drama called Legion that managed to fully embrace trippy storytelling and created maybe the best superhero TV show of all-time in the process.
For a third season of Fargo, Noah Hawley has interestingly decided to ramp up the ambition once again but not necessarily in the same ways Fargo season two differentiated itself from Fargo season one. Watching this new season, I was struck by how much it felt to me like he was mostly going more ambitious in the way he told this particular ten-episode long story, placing a greater emphasis on dialogue-free scenes relying entirely on accompanying orchestral music, for instance, or how nearly everyone in the season is mostly ignorant of the greater motivations or actions of their fellow cast members. The stories more intimate and small-in-scale compared to the mobster drama of Fargo season two, but there's still more narrative balls being juggled in the air than ever before in Fargo season three.
All of the gruesome crimes that unfold in this season of television can be traced back to one item: a stamp. As teenagers, brothers Ray and Emmet Stussy (both played by Ewan McGregor) were each given one item from their father in his will. The portly and socially awkward Ray got a stamp while Emmet got a snazzy new car. With Emmet knowing the stamp will eventually be worth more financially (a fact Ray is unaware of), Emmet tricks his brother into trading the stamp for a car, a trade-off that Emmet eventually realizes was a grave mistake. As adults in the year 2010, Ray holds contempt for his richer and more well-off brother (who is now a parking lot tycoon) and schemes with his girlfriend Nikki Swango (Mary Elizabeth Winstead).
From there, well, Ray's quest for vengeance causes all sorts of mayhem to occur, including a dude he hires to steal Emmet's precious stamp accidentally killing the stepfather of Gloria Burgle (Carrie Coon), which gets her embroiled in a case looking to capture the fellow who murdered her stepfather. At the same time, Emmet and business partner Sy Feltz (Michael Stuhlbarg) realize some recent money loans they took out have put their company under the ownership of V.M. Varga (David Thewlis), a British individual who lures Emmet into endorsing his shady business dealings with talks of making Emmet rich beyond his wildest dreams.
All of these intertwining plotlines (and I haven't even scratched the surface on what other smaller but no less integral story elements find their way into the proceedings) share one common element; vulnerability. There's a fascinating emphasis in this entire season on exploring how past trauma and current quandaries are interlinked, with the two lead brothers having their entire psyches informed by decades of intense rivalry. This conflict is such a pivotal part of their own lives that Emmet's attempt to bury the hatchet with Ray is met with understandable indignation by his brother. How could decades of turmoil stemming from an act of cruel selfishness be pushed to the past just like that? How can he go on without that dispute informing his every waking moment?
There's pain in both of their eyes in realizing how much an expansive dissension has informed their relationship and both are looking for an escape from their current troubled lives. Emmet see's potential salvation in duplicitous business dealings with V.M. Varga while Ray see's a way out via blackmailing his brother. The thought process behind these and other actions are explored via beautifully handled moments of intimacy that help shape the characters as fully formed creations with layers to them. Throughout season three of Fargo, there's a greater presence on smaller quiet moments that convey characterization and menace with equal measures of success. Just letting the characters reveal themselves in more low-key moments is seen throughout the entire cast in this season, leading to some of its best moments.
Just look at an extended single take of the villainous Varga eating ice cream in a bathroom stall is the sort of visual that manages to be haunting without him even threatening violence. For a more upbeat example of a smaller character-informing moment, just look at the various times Gloria Burgle connects with her newly teenage aged son. Carrie Coon is so good in these scenes and you really get to see Gloria translate that sense of dedication that she's applying to the various crimes she's investigating to a more loving and nurturing scenario. But the best of these smaller character moments scattered throughout the season is a two-way tie for my money. The first of these has gotta be Sy coming home to his wife and just slowly bursting into tears while noting how "The world is wrong...it looks like my world but everything's different." Michael Stuhlbarg is nothing short of heartbreaking in this moment as he lays his character's vulnerability out for all to see.
The other is a far more hopeful moment following Gloria pouring her heart out about her always feeling invisible, to which her new newfound police officer pal Winnie Lopez (Olivia Sandoval) responds to such fears simply by giving her friend a hug. It's an act of innately good human kindness. It's always good to be reminded that exists. Interestingly, the greater emphasis on these kind of moments seem to mean violence takes a backseat on this season of Fargo, particularly compared to the second season of this program. Oh, some gruesome stuff occurs (including a brutal beheading in the eighth episode), but they're more of an anomaly in this season that prefers to look at how great amounts of power and influence (like the kind V.M. Varga and his associates carry), not bullets, hurt people. Heck, the season finale manages to cut away twice from explicitly depicting crucial characters being shot, wringing more intensity out of seeing other characters react to such deaths than if we had seen such gunfire-induced demises.
That's bold storytelling move, but it works for the best for sure. Less successful, in terms of more ambitious narrative choices, is a recurring motif early on in the season where everyone's staring at their phones or other technological devices that feels like it doesn't really have anything new to add to the conversation on our tech gizmo-obsessed modern day society. Meanwhile, a third episode almost entirely devoted to the backstory of Gloria's stepfather has some fun moments (and the animated wraparound segment with a little robot who can only say "I can help!" is a highlight of the entire season) but most of it can't help but feel like it's extraneous to the overall season aside from reinforcing the seasons key theme of the powerful taking advantage of the normal people (I'll talk about more extensively shortly). Shea Wingham also gets wasted in a supporting turn as a police chief whose objections to Gloria feel overly contrived and forced.
But even those narrative hiccups don't seem to deter the top-caliber work put in by the all-star cast this season. Good gravy, look at all the people they've assembled for this season! Ewan McGregor? Awesome in his work here, the guy does a commendable job creating two completely separate personalities in Ray and Emmet to the point where one forgets you're watching one guy play both roles. Carrie Coon provides an endearing as h*ck and pure personality to contrast with the grim storylines she's involved in while Michael Stuhlbarg works wonders with portraying his characters growing sense of discomfort with what he's become embroiled in. As our villain, David Thewlis makes Varga at once so intimidating and so so gross, good God, the way he plays with this characters putrid teeth is a nasty piece of work. Finally, we have Mary Elizabeth Winstead as Nikki Swango, a character so fascinating that it may just usurp Ramona Flowers as Winstead's most iconic character.
Winstead particularly gets to shine in the last two episodes where the undercurrent of the entire season, the concept of the wealthy and advantage taking advantage of those lesser than them, really becomes prominent as Winstead's battered and bruised underdog challenges powerful figures like V.M. Varga. I don't think it's a coincidence this season starts out in 2010, a year barely removed from the late 2008 financial crisis that saw wealthy tycoons who spurred the economic downturn receiving little to no punishment while innocent people far lower on the economic totem pole suffering mightily because of their actions. I saw some people say Varga and his cronies were too powerful and were always getting away with too much but I perceived that as the entire point; these guys and all the crimes they get away are reflections of the kind of atrocities the rich and powerful can get away with simply by being rich and powerful.
That's a topic that feels even more topical now in U.S. politics as the rich have taken over and left the disenfranchised to rot with Varga feeling like a stand-in for the Trump administration in a number of scenes (though Varga and his mannerisms are far more pleasant to look at than Donald Trumpy). Thankfully, no real concrete answers get provided to the daunting prospect of the kind of troubling influence the rich and powerful carry, though some mild catharsis gets brought in by way of Mr. Wrench disposing of Emmet. In the final scene of the season, Carrie Coon and David Thewlis deliver masterful performances as their characters and their entire individual worldviews get laid out on the table. Varga makes it clear (as if it wasn't already) that he's a selfish sociopath who puts dollar signs before people. And Burgle? She's a woman who believes in justice, in kindness and in tasty deep-fried treats at the county fair.
It's so great that this scene doesn't end with a tidy victory for Burgle because the matters the show is dealing with don't get such easy conclusions in reality. But even as its open-ended final frame cuts to black, one can walk away from Burgle getting to confront Varga with a sliver of hope. There will always be evil in our midst using great power to hurt the innocent. But none of us are truly alone or invisible. It's the human connections we form, like the one Nikki Swango had with her beloved Ray (oh God, the way Mary Elizabeth Winstead delivers the line "He's a kitten now" to Emmet in the season finale is a thing of beauty) or the one Gloria Spangle has with her son, that remind us none of us are suffering alone. Maybe we won't win, but we can endure through the cruelty and maybe that it's own special kind of victory.
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