It feels like mere days have passed since I extolled the Gemstones' remarkable capacity to unify as a family, in spite of the grudges, betrayals, and scathing insults that would dissolve most other bonds. Yet, here we are again, merely a week hence, confronted by a fresh wave of betrayals that either restarts the cycle anew or snaps the olive branches, as numerous as a forest's trees, into shards.
The Righteous Gemstones meticulously constructed the first three episodes of this season, culminating in Eli Gemstone's momentous decision to entrust his empire to his offspring—a leap of blind faith, undoubtedly, but also a testament to profound trust. The fourth episode, undoubtedly the finest thus far, weaves the theme of trust across multiple timelines, examining the ramifications for nearly every pivotal character in the ensemble.
The closing monologue evokes the haunting narration that opens Martin Scorsese's Casino, where Ace Rothstein (played by Robert De Niro), donned in one of his pastel suits, exits the Tangiers and declares, "When you love someone, you've got to trust them. There's no alternative. You must hand over the key to your very soul. Otherwise, what is the purpose?" As he ignites his car's engine, it explodes, hurling him through a void of space. Trust misplaced, indeed, yet a life devoid of trust in those nearest to you would be excruciatingly solitary.
However, within the sphere of the Gemstones and the lucrative megachurch industry, temptation and malice abound, making disappointment an almost inevitable consequence of loyalty.
Trust, it seems, comes in myriad shades. When Kelvin reposes his faith in Keefe to organize an "ice cream and hot dog bash" for his teenage clique and their parents, it isn't solely Keefe's fault when the proprietor of Adult Emporium loudly coaxes him to inspect his new "premium fuck dolls," having already depleted his stock of "butt buzzers" the week prior. After all, Kelvin's ingenious plan to purchase the entire stock was to thwart the dissemination of sex toys into the clutches of truck drivers, without much contemplation on the virtue of commerce. Nonetheless, Keefe's response falls short of ideal: "It's not what you think. It's something we do with your kids!" The ensuing uproar from the parents leads Kelvin's siblings to the inevitable conclusion: Keefe is ill-suited to serve as assistant youth pastor.
Amidst the inevitable uproar in the comment section, a parent voices the collective sentiment, addressing Kelvin, "Given the myriad rumors surrounding you, can't you perceive how bizarre this entire scenario appears?" The unspoken love between Kelvin and Keefe remains shrouded in an eerie silence, despite the relentless display of skin-baring attire, cryptic remarks, and vulgar jokes about a certain saucy dip. There exists a parallel universe where they could find happiness together, but not in this harsh reality that eagerly seeks any pretext to tear them apart—and it has now seized one. Considering Keefe's rapid descent into Satanism during their last rift, his prospects outside this toxic environment appear bleak. His poignant farewell to Kelvin, "You rescued me, and from this moment onward, I shall tread the virtuous path because of you," is a heart-wrenching declaration.
As the truth about Judy's indiscrete encounter with her tour guitarist, sans her husband's knowledge, finally surfaces in the most cringe-worthy manner, BJ, whose numerical prowess is questionable, struggles to piece together the puzzle, even when Stephen sends him unsolicited penis pictures while Judy and BJ engage in a wine-and-paint session. (BJ laments, "Some fortunate lass is missing out on that magnificent penis snapshot.") Stephen's hints become more overt during a pickleball game where he stands in as BJ's partner and boasts about a dry-hump session that left "the entire Hawaiian archipelago imprinted on my trousers." However, the penny doesn't drop for BJ until Stephen orchestrates a confrontation involving all three, resulting in an emotionally charged scene. BJ, oblivious to subtle cues and societal norms, had blindly trusted Judy. That's the essence of trust.
Yet, the most intriguing and pivotal character in this episode is Eli, who remains remarkably serene and steadfast as he transfers the Gemstone ministries to his offspring and endeavors to reconcile with his sister May-May and his rebellious nephews. He attempts fishing, reads a biography of John Adams, and spends time in the lush, tranquil gardens once nurtured by his late wife. He strives to embrace retirement, but more importantly, he seeks to turn the other cheek and bring out the best in those around him. In my recap of the season premiere, I drew parallels between "The Righteous Gemstones" and "Succession," but here, the direct comparisons falter: Logan Roy's children lacked his faith and trust, and his instinct was to exploit people's darker sides. For Logan, both tactics served his business interests but did little for his soul.
Eli has witnessed his offspring's repeated failures to uphold his legacy since the dawn of their endeavors, making Jesse's botched induction into the prestigious Cape and Motherfucking Pistol Society merely another foreseen moment of frustration. Jesse, whose oath-breaking profanities are almost expected, could hardly have anticipated the ceremonial humiliation akin to the enigmatic rituals in "Eyes Wide Shut" for disregarding the established codes. Yet, his forbearance towards his sister and nephews presents a stark contrast.
In the pivotal dialogue of the episode, May-May and Eli share a poignant connection over their strained bonds with their respective progeny. May-May confesses, "Your wealth has never been the source of my envy. What I covet is the love your children bear for you—a sentiment I cannot claim from mine." Eli responds with a somber insight, "Do not confuse love with obligation. I feel like one of those aged ranch dogs, with swollen nipples, seeking solace in the shade."
These haunting words resonate throughout the subsequent events, as Eli's affection for his nephews is met with their reckless act of stealing two-and-a-half tons of ammonium nitrate for their father, who dreams of making a bold statement against "Uncle Sam." Despite their apparent delight in their奢华的 silk suits and grooming rituals, reminiscent of a preparation for an audience with the Wizard of Oz, neither the Gemstones nor May-May could devise a way to extricate Chuck and Karl from their father's influence. The boys' thoughts remain somewhat obscured, yet the song they serenade their mother with, whose chorus proclaims, "The time draws near when sinners must pay the price," conveys a poignant message. They are steadfast combatants in a broader war.
