Boardwalk Empire means business.
There are only two episodes left, and now we’re down two main characters, one who thought he was going to make it out alive and another who knew that wasn’t an option. We begin with Michael Shannon’s George Mueller, or as he screams while attempting to kill Al Capone, “Nelson Kaspar Van Alden.” From the moment he and Eli realize they don’t have a plan entering Capone’s den, he should have known to run. But Van Alden’s a man who’s escaped death so many times before, most recently when Capone puts his piece in his mouth, that he figured he’d able to lumber away from this sticky situation, too. And he almost does, thanks to some interference from Mike D’Angelo, who’s escorting his two unofficial Untouchables out the door…as Capone and actors George Raft and Paul Muni walk in.
Even then, after Al learns what his underlings were planning to do, and not believing a single word of their lies, I thought Mueller would still make it, and maybe critically wound Capone, even if that would royally mess up, y’know, history…right up until the moment D’Angelo shoots him in the back of the head. He won’t have to hear his son’s annoying recorder anymore. (Meanwhile, D’Angelo, having gotten what he needed with Capone’s ledgers, doesn’t give a sh*t what happens to Eli, who’s presumably on his way back east, to help fight in his brother’s war. Either that, or to have sex with another man’s wife.)
I’ll miss Shannon, an unexpected comedic delight for so many seasons, but he had piled up too many sins, and left too many bodies behind him, for him to escape and not have it be a “famous actor escapes unscathed” cop-out. Ultimately, it’s his past, dating back to when he drowned Agent Sebso, that gets him.
Chalky’s, too. For seven long years, the only thing that got Chalky to sleep was Daughter’s voice in his head. But he doesn’t actually remember what she sounds like anymore. Their reunion is brief, but tender. And important — he cuts a deal with Narcisse, guaranteeing a better life for Daughter and their daughter, Althea. Well, “guaranteeing.” Who knows if that mustache-twirler will live up to his side of the bargain; the only things we can be certain of are that Chalky’s dead and, the line that leaves Narcisse looking stunned, “ain’t nobody ever been free,” especially every character Michael K. Williams plays.
Meanwhile back in New Jersey, which isn’t a state “somewhere between Ohio and California,” Nucky is a drunken, pathetic mess, still reeling from Sally’s death in Cuba. Instead of searching for solace in a sandwich, he finds in a rotten bar. The only other inhabitants are a pissed-off loudmouth and two flirtatious women, who wait until Nucky’s unzipped his pants to make their move: they rob him. Minutes, maybe even hours later, he wakes up babbling something incomprehensible to everyone except himself and the viewers: he confuses the young man in his service with a “thieving monkey” from his past, Gillian. She’s why he’ll never feel like he belongs at the Ritz: Nucky bought his fortune by selling his own soul when he gave her to the Commodore. There’s no coming back from that, and by the end of the episode, he looks like he doesn’t care anymore. He’s a man on a suicide mission, one that’s taking him to New York with Mickey Doyle and His Paul Revere Gang.
That is not the man you want to go to battle with.
