Creators: Bill Dubuque and Mark Williams
Starring: Jason Bateman, Laura Linney, Sofia Hublitz, Skylar Gaetner, Julia Garner, Charlie Tahan, Lisa Emery, Janet McTeer, Felix Solis
Original Airdate: 2020
★★★★ (out of ★★★★)
When the first season of Netflix's crime drama Ozark premiered in 2017 to strong reviews and even stronger viewership, few could have guessed it would eventually emerge as the streaming network's most reliable and tightly written series. Much like Breaking Bad, to which its been endlessly compared, it's the rare show that's gotten better as it's steamrolled along, culminating now in a third season that's easily its best. But in hindsight, maybe we should have known. It was always great, moving at a breakneck pace while still managing slowly develop its characters and dropping narrative bread crumbs that result in major, but logical payoffs. The show knows what it is and makes sense, with performances heightening the suspense and impact of an already exhilarating story.
All of those Breaking Bad comparisons seemed lazy at first, based solely on the series' premise of a regular guy and his family being dragged into the drug business. But now that reference seems truly earned, based not on the show's plotline, but its escalating quality. Season 3 is simply a thrill ride and as good as ten episodes of a drama you're likely to see, putting its central characters married characters at war with not only the dangerous outside forces controlling their lives, but each other. In way over their heads, but with wildly different ideas about how to manage, the crisis has become a mirror reflection of their contrasting personalities and histories, ripping their relationship apart in the process.
Fluctuating between clumsy incompetence and Machiavellian genius, The Byrdes have sucked so many people into their vortex, things were bound to blow up. And yet, the show remains at its core about the quest to keep their family safe, even as their actions seem to result in the exact opposite. When launching this new business, everything becomes about facades and keeping up appearances,
but the arrival of an exciting new character throws a wrench in the power dynamic, providing the ten episodes with almost unbearable levels of tension. It's also one of the best acting performances of the year, as this previously unknown actor takes us to hell and back with one of the saddest and scariest recent on screen depictions of mental illness in any medium. You may as well just hand him the Emmy right now.
After opening and managing the new Missouri Belle casino as a means of laundering money for the Navarro Mexican drug cartel, Marty (Jason Bateman) and Wendy (Laura Linney) Byrde find themselves at a crossroads, with him wanting the family out of this terrible situation that followed him from Chicago, and her doubling down, more determined than ever to make this business work. Suddenly she's in the driver's seat, getting another taste of the power and ambition she once had early in her political career, impressing icy cartel lawyer Helen Pierce (Janet McTeer) and her boss, the terrifying Omar Navarro (Felix Solis), to whom Wendy now has a direct line.
While fighting over how best to keep their teen kids Charlotte (Sofia Hublitz) and Jonah (Skylar Gaetner) safe now that they know everything, the Byrdes have entrusted the fiery, foul-mouthed Ruth Langmore (Julia Garner) to manage the casino's day-to-day operations. But her frequent clashes with Kansas City mob boss Frank Cosgrove's (John Bedford Lloyd) son, Frank Jr. (Joseph Sikora), as well as her lingering resentment toward the Byrdes over her father's murder, make her a potential liability.
Still lurking in the wings is local drug runner Darlene Snell (Lisa Emery), who not only owns a piece of the casino, but still has custody of Baby Zeke, and intends on making the Byrdes pay for destroying her town. While she's now corrupted Ruth's estranged cousin Wyatt (Charlie Tahan) into helping her, Wendy's black sheep brother, Ben Davis (Tom Pelphrey), comes to town looking for a place to crash, revealing himself as a ticking time bomb unintentionally playing fast and loose their lives. As Marty entertains a new offer from the FBI and Wendy grows closer with the ever-present Helen, it looks like it'll take more than a few hours with their new marriage therapist to solve the Byrde's many problems.
Rarely do you see as many complications stack up over the course of a full season while having them still all pay off this thrillingly by the end. Co-creators Bill Dubuque and Mark Williams just keep piling it on, with everything always circling around the Byrdes, as lawyer Helen has now increased her stranglehold over the couple, now actually buying a house in the area and dragging along her rebellious teen daughter, Erin (Madison Thompson), with whom she has a fractured relationship.
We're given a lot more insight into the cold, calculating Helen's personal life, as Janet McTeer brings some more fascinating shades to Helen, strategically offering glimpses into what could almost be described as genuine human emotion from as the high-waisted pantsuit wearing operative. Of course, she and the writers are so smart in how they subtly walk up to that edge, before pulling back to remind us that whatever no matter what's happening with her ex-husband or daughter, she's all business and won't hesitate disposing of anyone if necessary.
Helen and Navarro are starting to see the floundering, stressed-out Marty as expendable, especially since he's doing everything he can to sabatoge Wendy's planned casino expansion, even wiretapping her. He just wants out, and it's hard to blame him, as he's being pulled in every direction from Helen, Navarro, the KC mob, Ruth, the FBI, his own power-hungry wife, and even at one humorous point, REO Speedwagon. It would be nice to just pack up and leave as he planned at the end of last season, but it's clear that's no longer a possibility, and for the first time since the pilot, Marty faces immenent physical harm, if not possible death at the hands of a displeased and highly volatile Navarro. Bateman is so good at playing Marty when he's lying, completely straight-faced in his deception and denials, all for the sake of keeping him and his family alive long enough to come up with a new plan. The actor does some of his best work of the series thus far, as a hopeless Marty suffers locked up in solitude in Navarro's Mexican prison, with childhood memories of playing arcade games the only thing keeping him going.
The drama has trickled down to the rest of the family as Charlotte and Jonah seem more aware than ever of their parents dangerous dealings, with the former now working for her mom and the latter withdrawing further into himself after reeling from losing his only friend, Buddy, last season. But all their lives are about to be seriously shaken up by the arrival of the most pivotal character, Wendy's estranged younger brother Ben, whom we initially meet in a sensational school-set scene. And even without a clue as to his identity at the time, we can tell he'll be making a huge impact.
Ben re-enters his older sister's life carrying a considerable amount of baggage, but it's only a matter of time before he's clued in to what's going on. The more he knows, the more he'll want to be involved. And that means trouble. But what's so masterful about Tom Pelphrey's electrifying performance is its sincerity, imbuing Ben with such an honest, moral compass that he almost comes across as childlike in his innocence, wondering why people just can't do what they say and say what they mean. Hyper-sensitive and just to a fault, he's just not built for a world filled with toxic criminality.
Despite Wendy's warnings to her, Ruth's relationship with Ben grows, with her emerging as the only person who seems to believe in him, to both their detriments. The decision Wendy feels she's forced to make regarding her mentally disinegrating brother is heartbreaking, with the scenes Linney shares Pelphrey in the penultimate episode representing a series-high on every conceivable level. Even as she senses an increasingly infantile Ben has gone completely off the deep end, there's this apologetic sadness in Pelphrey's eyes and voice that reflect an awareness of what he's done and how badly he's screwed up, all while remaining powerless to stop it. It's really some performance, especially considering he wasn't even a series mainstay until this season.
It all eventually comes down to loyalty. On shaky ground with their slip-ups, the only thing Wendy and Marty seem to agree on is that they need to make a big move to survive. The whole season sets up this power struggle with Helen over Navarro's allegiance that culminates in a truly shocking final moment, and one that lays the table for a new beginning. The Byrdes may have temporarily gotten what they need, but as usual, the cost hardly seems worth the sacrifice, especially when it's difficult imagining a future where they're ever free from the shackles of the cartel. For the time being, they've made their bed and have to lay in it, as the show teases the frightening possibility that the worst is yet to come.
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