There is no hiding from your past, from who you really are at your core, from what the world demands of you, nor from the hell that is this global apocalypse. The second entry in Season 4 of The Walking Dead focused on the dangers of denial and the power of facing things directly. In keeping with the overarching theme this season - “Can we come back from the things we’ve done?” – “Infected” offered a next step in that exploration. If “3. 0 Days Without an accident” highlighted the idea that change is impossible if we continue to loop through the same mistakes ad nauseum, then this episode, at least in part, shone a light on the futility of suppressing problems, pretending that they don’t exist, and trying to isolate yourself from pain. You may be able to come back, but you can’t pretend that the damage wasn’t done. This motif ran through nearly every character’s story thread. We’ve seen her come out of her shell this season, as the development of her bond with Carl and other members of the group flourishes. That’s been nice, but what’s even more intriguing is that it feels as though those small expressions were mere hints at the wellspring that’s about to erupt in her.
The cause of Michonne’s brooding silence is about to be revealed. We’ve only had one small hint to date. We know who her “Pets” were in the comics, but on the show, all that’s been said of them is that, “They were never human.” Those final moments with Judith hint that, not only did Michonne herself suffer at their hands, but she may also be a member of a group whose grief is too profound to be named – a parent who has lost a child. The image of the young mother with the now dead baby in D served to highlight this possibility. Michonne's her own white night, but no one's an Island in zombiepalooza. The Walking Dead Season 4 Infected ReviewsView All The Walking Dead: Season 4 News. The Walking Dead Season 4 Finale Sets. The Walking Dead Season 4; The Walking Dead. As Beth, who is in contention to become this season’s deliverer of sage wisdom, reminds us, “When you care about people, getting hurt is kind of a part of the package.” The answer isn’t to insulate and isolate yourself, though. Michonne would have had her friends leave her for dead rather than be the cause of anyone else’s misfortune. Yet, being alive also means causing other’s pain from time to time, even when that’s not your intention. You’ve got to push through that, though; otherwise you simply exist, as Maggie cautioned Glenn last week. Side note, why do people love taking photos of their sleeping lovers? For her part, Carol’s secret survival school could only remain hidden for so long. More on that in a moment, though. Karen’s charred body served as a reminder that Carpe Diem is not just a lofty ideal, but a necessity in this world. Had she truly “lived each day as if it were her last,” rather than opting for the “not just yet” route with Tyreese, she may have been able to enjoy one final moment of physical affection before what appears to be some kind of swine flu wiped her from the face of the earth forever. Props to the viewers who caught the walker with the same blood patterns down its nose as Patrick last week, indicating that this new disease is both within and without the prison walls; and that there will be no refuge from the scope of the wreckage it will inflict. Which is again in line with this week’s lesson: You cannot hide from damage, danger, or heartbreak; you’ve simply got to face it. Otherwise, you may as well submit to the fate of Nick the zombie who used to be special, and now is a spector. No matter how many times you push it down, the past, and the dead, will rise up. Also, check out Daryl TCBing. Circling back to Beth for a moment, her state of perpetual loving apathy is interesting, but the character will eventually need something to shatter it in order for her to truly come into her own. One of the ways that the series has kept things fresh and interesting is to weave in, and reassign, certain events from the books. Characters enter and exit in fresh ways, and some take on traits that they did not possess in the source material. With that in mind: Freaking Carol, am I right!?! Weak- minded and dependent in the comics, Carol is in some ways is rising up to embody the strength that show Andrea never did, and the newly invigorated Mrs. Peletier is arguably a far more interesting force. Like Ripley and Sarah Connor, it is a maternal instinct that drives her, and that is truly one of the most dynamic motivations known to man. It can endow those consumed by it with the superhuman ability to lift two tons of steel off their young, and provide the will to instill a backbone in a lost little girl. Carol, a character that was on the razor's edge of being killed off last season, has emerged as one of this year's most compelling. As for Rick, he’s been driven by paternal concerns and living in a fantasy in which he can recapture a pre- apocalypse relationship with his child; one in which it is his function to shield Carl from life’s harsher lessons. Head in the sand, and doing his impression of a simple farmer, Rick has momentarily rejected the core of who he is, a protector and leader, in an effort to save his son’s soul. Ever one to please and emulate his father, Carl has abandoned his Sheriff hat, because it’s not that of a farmer. It’s a noble effort, but a flawed one. Rick serves a purpose, and it isn’t tending to compost. The group needs him and, though his heart is in the right place with Carl, this episode demonstrates just how dangerous a child who is unwilling to embrace the truth of life among the dead is, both to herself and to others. If she in fact was the one doing it, little Lizzy put the prison sanctuary in jeopardy by feeding those walkers rats as if they were her darling pet boa. Either way she lost her nerve with her father, and as Carol reminded her, conviction and a stiff upper lip can mean the difference between life and death. Again, if she is the walker feeding culprit, then her error – or momentary bout of insanity depending how you look at it - serves a couple of purposes. In relative terms, not all that much time has passed. Tyreese recalls that for much of his life, acquaintances that drift in and out of daily existence were par for the course, while Lizzy struggles to reconcile herself to the fact of animated corpses who serve no other purpose than to continue the cycle of death. Second, the physical barriers of the prison coming down worked as a nice metaphor for the character’s emotional barriers crumbling. The lies this group has told themselves and each other will no longer stand. As Carol, who is herself enmeshed in some lies, cautions, it is strength that keeps you alive. Not strength as in the false bravado that Andrea so often displayed, though, strength as in the fortitude to look a problem in the face and address it. Carol doesn’t tell Lizzy that she’s weak to be cruel, she points out a frailty to the child so that she can shore it up and give herself a chance to breathe another day. The horrors that the survivors have endured cannot be denied, but they must be shouldered. As Daryl says, “you gotta be okay,” even when you’re not. Outward bound has nothing on what Carol has in store. The question of the best way to protect the young seems to have been asked and answered. One mindset would recommend quarantining them from adversity, while the other favors exposing them to truth and arming them with all of the weapons they’ll need to face the uphill battle that is their life. The latter wins the day. They’ve tried to contain things, but it’s ultimately impossible. Poison long- buried will eventually rise up to wreak havoc, suppressed trauma will rear its head, and the notion of a safe homestead where kids can be kids reveals itself to be little more than a daydream. Just as the pigs had to be sacrificed, so does innocence, and the vision of a Utopia safe from the lurking wolves at the gate. In the end, Carl and Lizzy are both handed weapons, as all of Rick’s dirt and cucumber dreams fall by the wayside. Finally, nice entrails spill! We are being treating to exiting new ways divest someone of their large and small intestines with each installment, it seems. It’s been interesting to note the mixed response to what was likely one of a few big swing “money” set pieces of the season. For some, what felt like a throwback to a . Others, myself included, were all in on the spectacle of it all, forgoing logic in favor of gut hanging glory. Whether you were sold on the marketplace gore storm or not, the show doesn’t seem to be backing away from playing on the tropes of the genre, as was demonstrated in this week's very classic horror open. The Verdict. One of the strengths of this season thus far has been the sense of balance. Showrunner Scott Gimple promised that each character would be given their due, and he seems to be living up to his commitment. Daryl gave Rick credit for always being there to help clean it up when the s**t hits, which served as a prompt for Rick to step back up to the plate, but the truth is that the s**t's hitting pretty hard right now, and everyone is grabbing a shovel. Ultimately, the second episode of Season 4 of The Walking Dead is stronger than the first. Let’s hope that this storytelling upswing continues. There's never enough time to get into every aspect of the episode, so call out what you liked, or didn't love, predictions, and hopes for what's next in the comments below. If you'd like to chat about the episode, you can hit me up on Twitter: @Roth.
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