Hoa Xuande, Fred Nguyen Khan Photo: Hopper Stone/HBO
In lesser hands, The Sympathizer’s third episode, “Love It Or Leave It,” would easily be its weakest: The first half hour is almost languid in its pacing, repetitive in what it shows and tells, and Sandra Oh gets f*ck all to do. But after a breakneck opening run, a little stop for breath is appreciated and makes the sudden shifts back to its signature propulsive violence and hammy comedy feel a little more unpredictable. A little more dangerous.
I love the interplay between the Captain and the General. The show’s arguably simplest character and its most complex both pretending they are basically peers, both assuming it’s for the other’s benefit. Yet the Captain’s practiced naïveté slips into the real thing for a moment when he’s instructed to kill Major “Dumpling” Oanh and provide proof of his subterfuge. No two ways about it: The guy tries to buy time by staking out the Major’s home and workplace (a modest car repair outfit) with Bon and sending messages to a conspicuously silent Man asking if he really has to do this. He also royally pooched it by figuring a targeted assassination would be a good way to get Bon out of the house. Bon immediately gets to work on the logistics, confiding to the Captain he was part of the F-6 program, a real-life one introduced by the CIA and later used by South Vietnam which saw specially trained operatives murder, torture, and otherwise neutralize those sympathetic to the communist cause in the tens of thousands. And when he’s not on the hunt with the Captain, he’s still sitting around in his underwear drinking beer and watching TV. The Captain is surprised by Bon’s admission (though he’s got the dead-eyed stare of a stone-cold killer and he did fight off all those soldiers in episode one with little effort) but after digesting it, finds a speck of comfort in knowing the friend he’s been lying to for years has been lying to him too.
Turns out Major Oanh is pretty on the level. He genuinely enjoys America and the “American Dream” mindset. He even gets in on the side-hustle gig economy a few decades early by shipping recently expired American candy to Vietnam. “He wants to get rich. Like a real American,” Oanh’s mother says approvingly to Bon and Captain during the tensest f*cking tea party I’ve ever seen on HBO. When the Captain convinces Oanh to cut him in on the lucrative black-market-candy scene, the Major encourages him to enjoy the freedom of America, that this is a chance for renewal. “We don’t have to stay just a chink and a bastard,” he says, handing the Captain something beautifully, classically American: a jarringly aggressive nationalist bumper sticker inviting readers to “LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT.”
After putting it off as long as he can, and still no word from Man, the Captain has basically no choice but to kill the Major. For one, Bon’s fixation and itching trigger finger make him a ticking time bomb who just might off the Major and his whole family on a bad day. For another, Claude appears as if out of thin air one afternoon to remind the Captain that as long as there’s a mole out there, everyone’s a suspect. And so under the cover of nonstop Fourth of July fireworks to mask the gunshots, the Captain and Bon just about manage a successful assassination, which looked unlikely in the early stages due to the Captain’s hesitance and decision to give Oanh a massive f*cking durian in a sack (basically a ready-made weapon) as a cover for coming over. Park Chan-wook, directing an episode for the last time this series, does great work with the long-shot staging of Bon, Captain, and Oanh’s slow, scrappy fight. You really wouldn’t suspect all three of being successful wartime operatives as they grapple clumsily in a dingy L.A. parking lot. Eventually the numbers game wins out, and Bon sets off firecrackers while the Captain shoots the Major in the face through the burger bag three times. It’s a clean end to a gloriously messy and stupid fight. Later, Claude tells the Captain it was Oanh who’d accused the Captain of being the mole at the liquor store, during the General and Claude’s interrogations. “f*cking idiot,” he says. “He pegged the guy we trust most.” Never trust a CIA operative, but especially when they tell you you’re trusted the most. This whole thing stinks to high heaven.
Peeling the durian back at his apartment, the Captain suddenly has another quick flashback to the egg, and we’re shunted forwards in time to the reeducation camp and the commandant reading the Captain’s novel of a confession. “So you’re finally ready to address the incident. I’ve been looking forward to it,” he says, as if they’re in a script notes meeting back in L.A. Long story short, the Captain was brought to a CIA safehouse with Claude a year and a half prior to help interrogate an influential figure in the VC resistance known as “The Watchman.” In Hoa Xuande’s best piece of silent acting so far (in a series full of closeups of that so-often inscrutable face) he performs for Claude verbally with his back to the man, while speaking an entirely different language to the Watchman made up solely of eye contact, tiny nods, and tears, conveying his true alignment and that there’s no getting out of this alive. He asks or maybe even humanely implores his comrade to find a way to die before he’s made to talk. The Watchman asks for hardboiled eggs for breakfast in return for a “confession” then promptly swallows a whole egg, shell and all, and chokes to death. Claude peels and takes a bite of the freshly-Heimlich-ed egg. “The shell provides a perfectly hygienic seal,” he deadpans to a disgusted Captain.
The jury’s still out somewhat on Robert Downey, Jr’s dementedly broad villains in Claude and Hammer. This week, we also get to meet the final two roles he’ll be playing in this series: the “say anything as long as it sounds good” congressman Ned Godwin, who between the suit, the hairpiece, and the gravelly voice, comes off like a passable impression of modern-day cartoon villain Vince McMahon. And hey, why not have your cake and eat it, too? After the Major’s funeral Claude drives the Captain to a steakhouse catering to high-power white men and, of course, all four Downey Jr. roles are present together. It’s dumb fun watching the recent Oscar winner literally play off himself with this colorful assortment of villains, the fourth and final member being Nico, a provocative filmmaker who wants the Captain to read his latest script set in Vietnam and provide “cultural integrity.” I have a feeling this is going to be an uphill battle.
Later, in the clubroom, while the four Downeys engage in their preferred methods of depravity, the Captain peels off to read the script and finds himself vibing with it to the extent he has another flashback, this time to his childhood. It’s the nature of memories, and something The Sympathizer does best, to come in the wrong order, or muddled up with newer memories. For all its stylistic panache, The Sympathizer’s nonstop chronomancy is never there to confuse but rather put us in the mind of the Captain. A place where the egg can be peeled and unpeeled again and again, where the fractured shell can be made whole by just going back a little further. In the “present,” he puts the script down and sees an apparition of the Major in the seat next to him, bag over his face. The Captain, even as the apparition shakes its head, removes the bag and sees Oanh’s face, his eyes and mouth horrifically contorted to resemble the smiley face on the bag. The Captain laughs, maybe out of despair, maybe happy to not just be in the company of those other four f*cking guys.
Stray observations
- The General and his wife remain less charmed by America than Oanh and others and furious at Lana for adjusting so easily.
- Not much Sandra Oh this week, but we do get to see a quick flash of envy? Worry? Something passes across the Captain’s face when she and Sonny share a laugh at the party. Something to keep an eye on.
- Speaking of, all those pictures Sonny likes to take makes me nervous. A social tic, or Chekhov’s Leica?
