“My moral compass is spinning so fast Chuck Yeager would bail out” – Michael Ennis
Last week’s episode appeared conclusively to wrap up the mystery of the murdered French priest who, it turns out, wasn’t dead after all. It did leave you wondering where this series would go next? This week it opens up on a new front. There’s the arrest of Patrice Ganimana, accused of helping organise the 1994 genocide in Rwanda, andan appearance from series creator Hugo Blick. He plays lawyer Blake Gaines, a man with a seething passion for legalistic amorality and defending the indefensible. As for Michael, he finds himself assailed from all sides; by his conscience, his legal nemesis Gaines, the ravages of cancer and even by romantic propositions. It’s as much as his highly developed sense of irony can take.
First, the French business is quickly dispatched. Brigadier General Lesage makes a full and thorough confession to the magistrate. Yes, Clement Barré’s death was covered up so as to conceal French involvement in Rwanda. Yes, the charge against Alice was concocted as a means of avenging Alice, who Jacques Barré regarded as responsible for his son’s killing. Cut to Barré’s mansion. As the police and their dogs arrive, a broken Barré – sitting in his son’s preserved room – shoots himself in the head.
Kate remains perplexed at the extent of the cover-up. Michael points out to her that English, not French, is now the national language of Rwanda. This is all part of the post-colonial games, still played out by nations whose pride is still hurt.
Following a triumphant speech in which Alice celebrates the exposure of her fabricated prosecution as breaking the “yoke” of the west, she presents Kate with another gift: this time, a torn of piece of fabric from the shirt she was wearing when she was found by Ed at the orphanage. The symbolism is obvious – “It’s your past. It belongs to you.” But Kate will come to wonder why Alice “keeps giving me things”. And what did Alice mean when she said: “You’re ready.” Ready for what?
And now, the game’s afoot once more. Ganimana has been arrested at a London hospital, where he is being treated for cancer of the brain. He flew in on a false name but, for some reason, used his real name at hospital admissions. In Rwanda, David Runihura takes a call with a western journalist which turns from elation at Ganimana’s capture to pique as the journalist hints that Alice might return to the country a national hero, and possibly threaten the present incumbent’s authority.
In another steely but playful encounter with Kate, in which he breaks into a tap-dance, full of the ironic joys of winter, Michael seems to hint that Britain’s impending departure from the EU might have impelled Ganimana to take refuge here. “In six months you’ll need a visa to pop over to (France) for a pack of fags,” he says, implying that Brexit might boost his chances of avoiding extradition. Still, reckons Michael, he’s toast. Blake Gaines, however, who has a touch of Minder’s Inspector Chisolm gone rogue about him, appears pretty nerveless when he confronts the Crown Prosecution Services officer as she presents an arrest warrant to Ganimana at the hospital. Does he know something?
In another conversation over Michael’s daughter Hana’s bed, Alice tells Michael she is going to wait for the outcome of the Ganimana case before returning to Rwanda, lest she back the wrong outcome and lose the people’s trust. As the conversation warms, Michael finds himself inviting her to stay at his place; she makes a joke about bodily fluids and suddenly they are in a clinch. Both step away from the moment, however.
At Westminster magistrates court, Michael meets Gaines, in a testy yet strangely lawyerly exchange. They compare each other to the chess players Boris Spassky and Bobby Fischer. Gaines callously advises Michael to drop the case as he knows it will fail. Michael understands why in a frantic call to the Hague. They are dropping the case – all 12 witnesses against Ganimana have pulled out, presumably intimidated into doing so. And witness protection isn’t one of The Hague’s strong points.
Back at Kate’s, she lays the fabric of shirt out on her kitchen worktop; it oozes blood. (Is that a hallucination?). Michael drops by; they try unsuccessfully to open Eve’s suitcase, then enjoy a late-night meal of cornflakes and Bordeaux. Out of nowhere, Kate propositions Michael. This is a stunner; as he points out, wasn’t she supposed to be his replacement daughter? She describes him as beautiful; she hasn’t seen him pissing blood. He demurs – for now.
Meanwhile, Rwanda has made its own move, demanding Ganimana’s extradition to its own domestic courts, given the failure of the Hague to prosecute. This should be good news; but as becomes clear in a phone exchange between Michael and Eunice in America, this would also hamper Alice’s chances of becoming president in Rwanda, displacing Bibi Mundanzi – their own, ulterior goal. Consequently, and with heavy heart and stricken conscience, Michael refuses to help David in the extradition. An uncomprehending Kate is appalled at this; she takes it as revenge for her making a pass at him. She meets with David herself. Perhaps the file her mother wrote up on Ganimana is in that suitcase?
Finally, Kate and Gaines meet, two antithetical creatures. They play the chess game again. Michael had compared himself to Spassky; she compares herself to Bobby Fischer, “because up here I’m completely fucked but the danger for you is I don’t give a shit.” And she will have the last word. “Tell your client he will never be free.”
Notes and observations
There must surely be some key future role for Michael’s daughter Hana in this drama – she must amount to more than a rather morbid extra.
Given that one of the features of this show is powerful black women, it’s a little jarring to see two of them this week throw themselves at chucklin’ John Goodman. But then everyone’s under a lot of pressure, I guess.
Hands up all Chic fans who, when Alice declares “At last I am free”, mouthed the words: “I can hardly see in front of me.”
Gaines’ demand on the courtroom steps for an “apology” echoed Tom Hagen’s similar appeal for Michael Corleone in The Godfather II when he too gets off in a flagrant case of witness-tampering. Blick has created an enjoyable nasty piece of work for himself to play.
