It ends but it don’t end.
There was an elegiac feeling to some parts of the third season finale, with some of the stories coming to an end, or as much of an end as life and David Simon’s determination to be truly reflective of it may allow. Some stories end, and some stories pause, and even those that end are merely pauses.
I don’t know enough about Treme‘s history to know, and whilst I can look it up, my objective in these blogs is to be as close as I can to the experience of watching the series on television would have been. So I rely only on what has come before, and not what I know of what comes after. For instance, I know that the Fourth and final season consists of only five episodes, written and produced after being given a limited budget: make what you can out of that.
So I infer from that that there was a good chance, and a known chance, that season 3 was going to be the last, that this might have been our last acquaintance with Antoine, LaDonna, Annie, Albert, Janette etc. Hence the elegiac tone, and hence the extended sequence of the gig to raise money to rebuild Gigi’s, in which more of the cast than ever before were gathered in the same space and interacting.
Where to begin? Why not begin with Davis: the episode does. I hated the character from season 1 episode 1, though I became used to him and as his disgustingly immature and self-centred behaviour was ameliorated by his relationship with Annie. Now they’ve split up, made official in the closing scenes as she, her musical star rising, moves her things out, he’s back to his worst, recording a secret track to go on the R’n’B sampler, ‘I Quit’. It’s a piece of whiny, self-entitled, expletive heavy (c)rapping on everybody who’s shat upon him, without a moment’s reflection on how his attitude practically demands that you shit on him as a moral duty (I don’t like him, you can tell, can’t you?). Ironically enough, it’s a massive hit, goes viral on YouTube and leaves the pissy little hypocrite wondering how to get back into music after such a definitive resignation.
Stories that end. Everett’s story of the Henry Glover death appears in The Nation and he hands out copies to everyone. Terry Colson gets hauled over the coals by his Captain of Homicide because he must have spilled secrets to Everett, but this is one whereTerry’s innocent, not that he is believed. Everett’s off, jail deaths in Buffalo, New York. No disrespect to Chris Coy, but his character has never really worked for me, because he has such little character, other than the affectation for Metal music, which costs him the chance to get off with the bird in the airport queue in front of him. I hope he doesn’t return.
And Sonny’s story of redemption through hard work and good love rises to its peak. He and Linh and MrTran attend the Gigi’s benefit gig, but otherwise he remains as detached from the overall storyline as ever, and his strand wraps in joyous celebration, silent but for the music, as the pair marry.
But these are just pauses, these people have lives still to lead. Are Sonnyand Linh back for season 4? i won’t look to see.
Other stories reach only breathing spaces, spaces where choices still have to be made about how to go on. Terry Colson knows where he stands. Hewon’t be allowed to rest in the Police, his only choices are stick or twist, where twist is resign. He’s completely alone and they’re going to play dirty. A car is forced upon him. Suspicious, he ransacks it, finds the consignment of drugs planted in the wheel-well.
But that old friendship with Toni has returned, and it’s gone where we thought it might go in season 2, all the way. Sofia returns from Florida for a break, catches Terry in his shorts, says nothing but, once in her room, grins widely and approvingly. We have a pair coming together even as one flies finally apart, but the Police are still watching, openly, and Toni’s moving on the Arbrea case, pressing action on the FBI that’s clearly going to run on.
There’s Antoine, growing in his enthusiasm to help move forward those of the school marching band who have the talent and the drive. There’s Delmond and Albert – whose hair has now dropped out due to the chemo and who now sports a natty fedora – coming to the only inevitable realisation about the National Jazz Centre, that the money’s going to de rich white folks an de pore black folks don’t cut it, and resigning.
And Janette, finding that her restaurant is not her restaurant and that not even her name is her own, that Desautel’s will be Desuatel’s whether she’s there or not. She hasn’t come to a decision yet, but we know which way it will swing.
And LaDonna. It’s finally the trial, and after thirty-six hours, the jury are irretrievably deadlocked. The Judge has to declare a mistrial. And LaDonna’s left to reflect that they burned her down for nothing. She isn’t going to go through that again. She has a bar to rebuild.
It ends but it don’t end. Next week I begin the Fourth and last season. Just five more weeks with these people, and no real endings to come. Five weeks from now, their futures will be in my head.