This week's episode, titled "Illusions," opens with a blackout, a stark metaphor that the show expertly navigates, given our collective plunge into darkness over the past four episodes. The darkness, quite literally, engulfs the narrative, its cause and victim being none other than Betty Carol, the courageous soul who initially alerted Mare to the neighborhood's lurking shadow. Betty's attempt to shed light on the Peeping Tom's sinister deeds has seemingly backfired, leading to her untimely demise. A heart attack behind the wheel may suggest natural causes, yet doubts linger, their embers flickering in the background.
As the lights flicker back to life, Mare embarks on a journey she vowed never to take with her therapist—a journey towards emotional breakthrough. The accidental discovery of Siobhan's video, a poignant testament to Kevin's struggles, acts as a catalyst, stirring within Mare long-buried emotions. She dares to confess her past battles with postnatal depression and the tragic suicide of her father, revealing a softer, more vulnerable side rarely glimpsed. Mare's refusal to deflect with humor or stifle her emotional growth paints a heartwarming, yet ominous, picture, for in the realm of HBO dramas, such tender moments often precede storms.
The narrative circles back to Erin's tragic death, unearthing a bombshell revelation: Billy, the unlikeliest of caretakers, had Erin residing in his basement for an extended period. Billy, master of the understated lead, buries this truth deep, only for it to explode into the open. Lori, her attention divided between her husband's manipulative tactics with their son and his dismissive attitude towards Erin's abuse, realizes the stark contrast between Mare's solitude-embraced happiness and the questionable characters populating Easttown's male population. Billy's lie about Erin's stay, followed by his most suspicious exit yet, leaves a trail of red flags, and Mare's piercing gaze upon the untouched Rolling Rock he abandons on the table speaks volumes—she senses the storm brewing.
Dylan and Brianna's reunion is a somber affair, marred by the weight of her circumstances. Denied her college dreams due to the accusations levied against her, her mention of pursuing beauty school and catering to the elite with makeup takes on a heartrending hue, a stark contrast to her past deplorable actions. This poignant exchange uncovers yet another startling revelation: Dylan vanished in the aftermath of Erin's murder, a twist that defies expectation and leaves viewers reeling.
As if the plot weren't convoluted enough, it emerges that Dylan is secretly conspiring with Erin's closest friend, Jess, an unlikely accomplice few predicted. Together, they conspire to incinerate Erin's genuine notebooks, which Mare remains blissfully unaware of. The narrative hurtles forward with dizzying twists, leaving viewers struggling to keep up.
Meanwhile, Lori's personal turmoil deepens as her son exposes her husband's recurrent affair with "the same woman as before," initially stirring speculation of a connection to the missing girls' cases. But as he hastily packs his bags, he seems to be yet another red herring in a sea of malevolent characters.
Mare, feigning interest, embarks on a disastrous date with Detective Zabel, where his mundane conversation about food shows borders on cringeworthy. Her presence is purely professional, and it's impossible not to empathize with her endurance amidst such banal chatter. Their subsequent encounter by the water's edge, a backdrop conducive to emotional confessions, sees Zabel confess his case's true origins: a drunken tip from a former cop, not his own brilliance. Mare's wry observation, "doing something great is overrated," precedes a hesitant kiss, choreographed to capture the delicate dance of mutual attraction tinged with reservation.
Zabel, reminiscent of Ed, Madeline's insipid husband in 'Big Little Lies,' possesses a certain annoying meekness that sows seeds of doubt in their burgeoning connection. This uncertainty undermines our rooting for them, yet it's refreshing to see a portrayal of romance that doesn't rely solely on grand gestures and instantaneous passion. It's a nod to the honesty of imperfect attractions, a welcome breath of authenticity amidst the chaos.
In a poignant climax-like sequence, Deacon Mark's confession, tinged with a hint of resignation, reveals his presence with Erin the fateful night she vanished, coupled with an explanation for the possession of her bicycle. "Would denial sway your belief?" he queries, the weight of his past entanglement with an underage girl looming over the moment. While empathy for him surfaces amidst his brutal beating by Easttown's youthful vigilantes, his involvement with a minor complicates our sentiments, even if innocence shrouds this particular instance.
Mare and Detective Zabel, their pursuit relentless, hone in on a vehicle that holds the promise of unraveling the mystery of the missing girls. Their relentless knocking leads them to a sinister figure, a possession of the very cigarettes that had earlier served as a clue from one of the girls. Amidst the cacophony of Katie and Missy's unfettered movements above, signaling the captor's unforeseen visitors, a heart-pounding game of cat and mouse ensues. In the fray, Zabel falls victim to a bullet, while Mare, emerging from her concealment, boldly confronts the abductor.
This unexpected finale-esque ending, with two episodes yet to unfold, teases at the possibility that not every query surrounding the abducted girls will find its answer. The multitude of male suspects that have cast their shadows of doubt, were they mere mirages, as the episode's title implies, devised to mislead our investigative gaze?
As Mare gasps for breath, her body stained with her own blood, sprawled on the kitchen floor, with Zabel's fate hanging in the balance across the room, she is enveloped by fleeting memories of her son Kevin. It's a moment of catharsis, a poignant reminder of the satisfaction she finds in rescuing another's children, even if the same hands couldn't save her own.
