Seeing the women’s blood spiral into the drain intercut with Wharton boasting like the Nazi cat who got the cream was something we needed to see to remember quite how fucked up Gilead is, and why commanders like Wharton deserve a shiv in the jugular. Director Daina Reid had a responsibility to shock us with that scene, and did so extremely well, showcasing the fast, blunt horror while avoiding gratuitousness.
Seeing the Jezebels put down like diseased cattle was also necessary to drive home the seriousness of Nick’s transgression. His betrayal hadn’t just scuppered Mayday’s plan, it killed those women. Nick may have been right when he called June out on her self-serving ability to block out his commander status, but no amount of sound argument will bring June back to him now. Not even if he were Rihanna-hot could Nick return from this one.
That jokey scene between June and Moira back at Mayday HQ was a blessed thing, by the way. Ostracised by everybody and on the outs with Luke (beautiful work, as ever from Elisabeth Moss and O-T Fagbenle in both their bust-up and reconciliation), June needed a best friend. Thanks to the relationship overhaul those two did in Room 618, she had one, and it gave “Shattered” a welcome variation in tone.
This episode had that alright, transforming from stunned grief to alert action around two thirds of the way through, when Lawrence’s goading of June sparked a lightbulb over her head as she literally stopped in her tracks: “At the wedding, did you say there were going to be Handmaids?” she asked, a plan formulating. From that point onwards, it was action-stations as this show delivered one of its most rousing sequences since those little kids were smuggled out of Gilead on that plane. Thanks to some improvisation from June and every friend Mayday has ever had, Serena and Wharton’s nuptials aren’t only going to be the social event of the season – they’re going to be a bloodbath. Game of Thrones is about to get a contender for the title of “The Red Wedding.”
There was a good, old-fashioned thrill about seeing things start to come together, as seeds planted earlier in the season began to sprout. Rita making Serena’s wedding cake suddenly wasn’t just chit-chat, it was another opportunity for poisonous revenge. Moira and June folded themselves back into the trunk of Lawrence’s car, this time to travel in the opposite direction. D’Arcy Carden’s new Aunt Phoebe character was an immediate favorite – her dappy chatter about weasels and mops masking her resistance intentions. If Phoebe survives the season, find a way to bring her back for The Testaments?
Speaking of which, Ann Dowd was at last granted more to do, and sold the hell out of her grief for Janine as she mournfully witnessed the bloodstains on the Penthouse floor. Lydia’s face as she looked up to see her “special girl” bruised and bloodied in Commander Bell’s window felt like the first bird-flocks-taking-flight stirrings of an earthquake. Keep going, Lydia, keep going, you’re almost there. And if you do ever get there and decide to mete out deserved punishment to Bell and co., remember to take your cattle prod with you.
