Let me clarify: I'm entering this discussion sans any foreknowledge of Mayor of Kingstown's upcoming twists, thus, my query is void of spoilers. Nevertheless, throughout the final ten minutes of this week's episode, aptly titled "Iris," I found myself on edge, half-expecting the cunning underworld figure to meet her demise. I envisioned it happening aboard Konstantin's yacht, where his unsettling charm masked a sinister agenda, his soft-spoken directives ringing with danger. Or perhaps in the seedy motel room where Iris spoke too freely on her disposable phone, oblivious to the possibility of Konstantin's minions lurking in the shadows. But, surprisingly, Iris remains in the land of the living – though her days surely feel numbered.
"Iris" perpetuates the season's alternating pattern of tranquil place-setters and adrenaline-fueled missions. Following last week's adrenaline rush, this episode, save for those final tense minutes, settled into a more placid pace.
Mike finds himself on the periphery of the action, a mere observer as Bunny, fueled by simmering grievances (days? Weeks? Months? Time in Mayor of Kingstown is a blurred concept), vows revenge against the Russians for tainting his drug supply. Upon Evelyn's confirmation of the Russian connection, Mike frantically seeks out Bunny, who remains elusive, phone calls unanswered. He pleads with Evelyn, vowing to prevent bloodshed, repeating the phrase "I'll fix it" like a mantra as he rushes from her doorstep. But how can he intervene when the heavily armed – their weapons sourced from the depths of the black market – refuse to engage him?
Mike does manage to secure an audience with Konstantin, but the Russian's composure is unyielding. The way he addresses Mike – calmly, almost condescendingly, with "Breathe, Michael…you must always remember to breathe" – underscores the Mayor's impotence in this realm. When Mike all but demands Konstantin cease meddling with the Crips' turf, the Russian merely shrugs, citing the harsh realities of business competition. "If someone can't keep up, that's their burden to bear," he states, his words echoing the harshness of the underworld they inhabit.
Even as Konstantin and Mike narrowly escape the wrath of Bunny's ruthless henchmen—a "remedy" of unparalleled extremity—the Russian's eyes remain steadfast, unwavering. Mike regurgitates the worn-out adage about "an eye for an eye making the whole world blind," yet Konstantin holds fast to a loftier principle that transcends mere pragmatism. Strikingly, he derides Bunny's gang as "street animals," mere "creatures," and later, in his conversation with Iris, he draws a favorable comparison to Milo, noting that while the former boss was prone to "surrender," Konstantin understands "the very origins of our rivers...whence courage springs." In essence, Konstantin's allegiance with the Aryan Brotherhood against the Crips stems not from convenience but from a sense of honor tinged with racial bias.
And then, there's Iris. Konstantin's adoration for her runs deep, extending beyond her once saving him from a tight spot in New York. In this episode, we learn that he bestowed upon her her alias, seeing her as a reflection of the plant with "leaves shaped like swords," emblematic of the Virgin Mary's sorrows. "Her suffering mellows our dark hearts, imparts hope," Konstantin muses, telling Iris, "When you enter a room, you pierce the very souls of men."
Yet, herein lies the rub. When a man like Konstantin perceives a woman like Iris as a symbol rather than a flesh-and-blood individual, his disillusionment—and perhaps even fury—will be all the more profound when she ultimately reveals herself to be human, with aspirations and imperfections that clash with his grand designs. It's inevitable that he'll discover Iris's undercover work for Mike and Ferguson, gathering intelligence on the Russian-Aryan nexus. Tragically, I believe Iris speaks truthfully when she confesses, post their indulgent night of drugs and intimate confessions aboard his yacht, that it was "the most exhilarating time I've had in ages." Iris finds herself dangerously enchanted by her dual role as both mob moll and confidential informant, so consumed that she might fail to discern the looming storm clouds.
As I alluded earlier, the Iris-centric scenes breathe vibrant life into an otherwise monotonous episode, marked by numerous repositionings of the protagonists. Amidst these transformations, the most significant non-Iris developments in "Iris" revolve around Kyle and Tracy's milestones, as Kyle finally earns his transfer to SWAT and Tracy resumes her nursing duties within the prison walls. Yet, even these pivotal subplots, destined to hold immense weight by season's end, cannot escape Iris's looming presence.
Upon learning of Kyle's promotion from Ferguson, Mike's sarcastic quip, "Just when you thought the day couldn't get any better," belies his true sentiments as he cautiously makes his way to his brother's abode to offer a guarded congratulations. But beneath the congratulations lies a dire warning; Mike's visit is also a solemn reminder to Kyle of Iris's perilous new mission and the dire consequences that would ensue if Konstantin were to uncover the intimacy she's forged with the McClusky clan.
"I'll let Tracy know," Kyle replies, nodding in solemn understanding. "We never knew her." With these words, the erasure of Iris's existence within their world commences, a subtle yet profound shift in the intricate web of lies and secrets that bind them all.
