In “Chino And The Man,” Veronica Mars addresses true crime, Big Dick's buddy, & "New Logan"

While Veronica gave an understandable reason for refusing Logan’s marriage proposal in the season premiere, her opening voiceover in “Chino And The Man” takes a turn by further explaining that she felt like Logan “proposed on a lark.” Whether that’s true or not, that’s what Veronica believes, especially as there was no “fallout” on Logan’s end after the rejection. No “avalanche of anger and resentment.” Yet again, Veronica’s preternatural trust issues send her down a disturbing path, one that only gets worse once she picks a fight with Logan over him agreeingwith her that Neptune is “the worst.” (His “Why ruin a good thing?” when Big Dick asks when they’re going to get married basically sets off a countdown to said meltdown.) Logan wants to be supportive—knowing from years of experience that there’s no winning when it comes to disagreeing with Veronica—but “supportive Logan” is apparently the guy Veronica doesn’t recognize.

Most surprising about “Chino And The Man”—only the second episode of the season—is the fact that Veronica Mars pretty much gets right into it when it comes to Classic Logan vs. New Logan, the series’ established toxicity of the Logan/Veronica pairing, and the toxicity of what Veronica expects out of Logan. Remember Veronica’s reaction to Logan beating the tar out of a guy for her in the season three finale? What she wants out of Logan is what she’s always wanted out of Logan, and it’s always been screwed up—this is not a new, late in series characterization for her. Veronica Mars is a deeply-flawed character, especially when it comes to her relationships.

I know people had issues with Logan’s characterization in the Veronica Marsmovie, wondering how he possibly got from “Bad Boy” point A to “All That You Can Be” (the Navy version of that) point B in the nine years since Veronica last saw him at Hearst. Mr. Kiss And Tell filled in the blanks that led to his transformation—specifically, the rock bottom that led to it—but it’s obviously a better choice for the series to tackle it onscreen now that it can. Veronica should probably know better at this point, considering they’re five years into their adult relationship, but at least she says what plenty of fans have been thinking: This version of Logan seems more like a “pod person” than Logan. “You just feel sanded down. Logan minus the Logan.” She even asks him if he’s on medication, which would also explain things (like it did Duncan, to an extent). These criticisms of Logan from Veronica are absolutely fair after the way the character came across in the movie.

But like I pointed out in the premiere, he can still quip with the best of them, and even his scenes early in this episode with the Casablancas still have that biting sarcasm behind them. Jason Dohring isn’t playing Logan at 11 like he did in the first two seasons, but he’s still playing him. Sure, he’s more mellow, someone you can trust around your baby or play Cards Against Humanity with, but he’s not humorless or Duncan Kane 2.0; Logan is still in there. He still has all that anger inside of him, and he even brings up the Bruce Banner/Hulk comparison to explain it. Only now he’s in therapy, which shouldbe considered a win. And Veronica doesn’t know how to handle that. She doesn’t know how to handle a healthy, mature relationship, and she’s even admitted as much. Veronica is turned on by the danger of Logan, which has always been a problem, wanting to be with a self-destructive mess like “Classic Logan” while also wanting to change him, a big part of season three’s Veronica/Logan conflict. Now that he’s actually changed—and not because of Veronica—she’d rather have the self-destructive mess version. In her mind, that guy wouldn’t have proposed to her, but he would punch in a kitchen cabinet in frustration before having sex with her. Which is why once Logan’s gotten that out of his system, he leaves his therapist’s number for Veronica. It’s not just a snarky send-off—it’s something Veronica should take under extreme consideration. The closest Veronica ever got to therapy was mandatory guidance counselor sessions in season one, and those were just moments of confirmation that she would continue to be fueled by her anger. And that’s how this character continues to live her life, despite accomplishing her goals in that first season.

As “Chino And The Man” also reminds us, Veronica is also painfully aware of this character flaw, even if she’s not actively doing anything to change it. While the rejected proposal still looms over Veronica and Logan, Veronica Mars isn’t dragging this particular fight past this episode. That they’re able to move past it and Veronica can make the apology phone call is a type of growth for this relationship, even with all the mess still surrounding it. Sure, the phone call almost veers into cliche, “too much information” speakerphone territory when she steamrolls Logan to get it out, but nothing particularly private is divulged in front of Dick before Logan grabs the phone and takes to Veronica one-on-one. (Diane Ruggiero-Wright understands the humor of this series and doesn’t go all-in on the cheap gag.) The scene is then punctuated by “Classic Veronica” asking Logan for a favor, which is worth noting because it actually does lead to the temporary return of “Classic Logan,” only now in a form that does not cause concern. The fight—well, beatdown—scene between Logan and the Carr brothers, set to Franki Valli’s “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You” is essentially the non-sociopathic and polished version of Aaron Echolls’ “That’s Amore” beatdown in season one. While the Aaron scene was a hard one because it meant rooting for an abusive father to beat his daughter’s abusive boyfriend, with Logan’s scene, there’s nothing to question about enjoying this Veronica Marsmoment of choreographed violence.

Outside of Veronica and Logan’s relationship, the bombing brings out an attention seeker in the form of Penn the pizza boy. Veronica Mars has briefly looked at attention seekers in the face of tragedy before, with Lynn Echolls’ suicide and the bus crash victims. But with Penn, it makes an actual storyline out it, as he uses his 15 minutes of fame to do something typically reserved for the Mars family: play detective. Considering the number of high-profile murders, serial rapes, and criminal organizations that exist in Neptune, it’s a wonder it’s taken this long for the show to have a civilian enter the mix in trying to solve a case like this. Penn and his “Murderheads” exist as a natural progression for Neptune, especially now that Veronica Mars exists when the true-crime genre is so hot. And that heat and need to be the center of attention is what drives Penn to go on national television and accuse Daniel Maloof (“the Middle-Eastern JFK”) of planting the bomb—based on actual knowledge he has about how things went down, from the college girls’ motel room to Tawny’s make-up bag to the attempted Maloof family pay-off. Not exactly what a seasoned detective would but definitely a decent theory if you don’t think too much about it, which it appears Penn hasn’t.

On the opposite end of this civilian crime-solving spectrum is “slippery” 16-year-old Matty, who takes matters into her own hands to try and uncover who’s responsible for the bombing and her father’s death. The random gum all of a sudden stocked in their vending machine (and the “Mole Man” who stocked it, instead of their usual guy) sends her in the direction of the vending machine (Jimmy was rustling the machine right before the explosion) vendor, Alpha-Jolly Amusements—a Liam Fitzpatrick operation. Matty so very clearly exists as a parallel to young Veronica, and from her first scene here—when she refuses to answer Langdon’s questioning and then strolls out of the precinct—it’s clear she’s got that same spark and righteous anger teen Veronica had. This explains why Veronica comes to care for her, and even before they even have an actual interaction, the way Veronica reacts to tracking down Matty is an early indicator that she likes this kid. If there were ever an actual Veronica Mars reboot, Izabela Vidovic would have that casting in the bag.

Matty and Penn are characters who also reveal what plenty of others must see Neptune as. With Veronica Mars, it’s easy to take for granted how blissfully unaware the people of Neptune can be about just how dangerous it is when they’re not confronted by it on a regular basis. As the audience, we see Neptune as the world Veronica has shown us. Matty has no reason to fear vending machine vendor Liam until it’s too late because as a normal 16-year-old girl, she has no idea who the Fighting Fitzpatricks are. Penn, on the other hand, is a grown man that considers himself an expert in all of this stuff, which is pretty laughable. At the same time, he has very salient points about the sheriff’s/police department in Neptune—especially from the outside looking in, which is actually how most of these characters actually see this world. While the audience and, of course, Veronica and Keith have the full picture on Neptune’s true nature, the truth is, most of Neptune doesn’t and wouldn’t. Which is why Penn asking, “Do you think they’ll ever figure out who murdered Lilly Kane?” is such a killer of a line. The audience, of course, knows Aaron Echolls did it. But at this moment, Dianne Ruggiero-Wright brings to the forefront the unfortunate fact that, despite all that Veronica and Keith did to find Lilly’s killer, a good number of people will always believe A-list actor Aaron Echolls was innocent.

I’d be lying if I didn’t say the casting of Patton Oswalt as Penn is somewhat distracting, but it’s certainly not as distracting as the casting of Academy Award Winner J.K. Simmons as Big Dick’s “friend and associate” from prison, Clyde. When it comes to wanting to point the finger at someone suspicious, there might as well be a flashing red arrow accompanying Clyde. This episode introduces the character and immediately (mostly via flashback) presents reasons not to trust him: his partnership with Big Dick, his criminal past as a bank robber, the way his partnership with Big Dick came to be (only two days into Big Dick’s prison stint). Plus, he’s won an Academy Award. But then when Clyde’s talking to Veronica, and he calls Dick “that little shit friend of your boyfriend,” Simmons suddenly fits in this world like a glove... while simultaneously sticking out like a bloody glove. Clyde’s back and forth with other characters is not the same as anyone else’s back and forth on this show. It’s intriguing, engaging even—despite how relaxed it is, in all the chaos—pulling you in to want to know what he’s going to say or do next. It’s an atypical character that pretty much functions the opposite of the cartel characters.

Alonzo and Dodie’s first scene in this episode at least shows some self-awareness, as they are clearly supposed to stand out in Neptune and need to attempt to “blend in.” But that doesn’t change the odd shift the show takes when it goes from a scene like Dick’s premiere after-party to these two just standing on the beach. Even when there are good one-liners like, “You think these people shop at Wal-Mart?” and just the very idea that deceased Gabriel had a “crew,” these scenes feel like mini-episodes within an episode. As it is now, they’re in a parallel series from Veronica Mars, which works to these characters’ advantages at least once, when they arrive at the nerds’ motel room just as soon as Keith and Veronica leave it. I keep seeing Breaking Badcomparisons when it comes to this aspect of the series—and not in a good way—but all I can see during these scenes is something out of Fargo(the movie and the series). There, the non-sequiturs come with the territory—and again, the Clyde story does it better—but here, it doesn’t quite work. It makes sense if Rob Thomas had that particular Coen Brothers flick in mind, considering how much of the original series was just The Big Lebowski reference after reference, but those references were never as intrusive as an entire storyline. Throw in the surrealism that comes with Alonzo and Dodie just keeping a severed head on their motel counter, having killed a kid without doing anything to confirm that he was responsible for the bomb andthem being blase about having to sever Daniel Maloof’s head when they see the news. This episode wrings out as much quirkiness from these characters as it possibly can, which is already better than Alonzo waxing philosophic in the premiere and actually gives Dodie a character. But writing a better approach to a story that’s not necessarily good doesn’t make it a good story.

So we have a teenager who’s investigating but in over her head, a pizza boy who thinks he’s investigating and is also in over her head, and two cartel members who aren’t so much investigating as they are looking for a head to sever. If nothing else, these three angles provide a much larger sense of appreciation for what Keith and Veronica do as actual private investigators, with experience, resources, and no machetes (just guns). But while the Matty storyline makes sense as a parallel to Veronica’s early years—with Veronica trying her best to prevent this girl from setting and hardening like she did—and even Penn makes sense as a thorn in the Mars family’s side—his enthusiasm and need for attention clearly doing nothing to help the case—Alonzo/Dodie remain the part that doesn’t belong. They’re a side adventure in a series that has never needed or used side adventures in this form. Just imagine following Danny Boyd as he does whatever he does for an entire season. Sure, he ultimately interacts with other characters—characters we care about—but that doesn’t necessarily make the set-up worth it.

Source: Avclub.com

Powered by NewsAPI.org

Keywords:

Veronica Mars • True crime • Voice acting • Avalanche (phishing group) • Anger • Poseidon • Veronica Mars • Veronica Mars • Bad Boy Records • Boy Point • Hearst Communications • Kiss and Tell (1945 film) • Sarcasm • Jason Dohring • Cards Against Humanity • Hulk (comics) • Psychotherapy • Interpersonal relationship • Veronica Logan • Kitchen Cabinet • Veronica Mars • Cliché • Speakerphone • Diane Ruggiero • Can't Take My Eyes Off You • Psychopathy • That's Amore • Child abuse • Boyfriend • Violence • Attention seeking • Veronica Mars • Attention seeking • Suicide • Plot (narrative) • 15 minutes of fame • Mars family • Detective • Murder • Rape • Organized crime • Poseidon • Neptune • Veronica Mars • Sleeping Dogs (video game) • John F. Kennedy • Make Up Bag • Maloof family • Vending machine • Mole Man • Vending machine • The Suite Life of Zack & Cody • Veronica Mars • Reboot (fiction) • Homefront (film) • Poseidon • Veronica Mars • Neptune Township, New Jersey • Neptune (mythology) • Vending machine • The Fitzpatricks • Neptune Township, New Jersey • Neptune • Neptune • People (magazine) • Patton Oswalt • Academy Awards • J. K. Simmons • Roy Harper (comics) • Flashback (narrative) • Academy Awards • Cartel • Self-awareness • Poseidon • Walmart • Veronica Mars • Fargo, North Dakota • Non sequitur (literary device) • Rob Thomas (writer) • Coen brothers • The Big Lebowski • Surrealism • Narrative • Narrative • Adolescence • Drug cartel • Mars family • Just Imagine... •