Compare this with Thack and Elkins, a more edited affair that gently tiptoes toward Elkins cautiously, awkwardly propositioning Thackery. It’s practically a transaction, even if both parties are willing. When we crosscut between the two in bed and Elkins the next morning, it’s an inverted take on the tryst Soderbergh made so sexy in Out of Sight. Instead of overlaying the words of foreplay with the visual sensuality of two bodies in motion, we get the opposite, a sad display of lovemaking intercut with the drudgery of the morning after.
And yet, last we see Elkins, she’s smiling. In an hour where everyone is exactly who we think they are, The Knick saves one surprise for the very end. That last smirk from Elkins suggests the hour is as much about assembling the Knickvengers together as it is about finally making Elkins an integral part of this story. Elkins has always been the closest thing to an audience-insert character. She was a newbie to the Knickerbocker when the series began, and we’ve watched her figure her way through the hospital politics and emotional demands of her job for seven episodes now.
Three scenes define Elkins as such an outsider, and setup the final scene that brings her into the fold of Thackery’s big top. First, when Sears is bleeding out in bed. We follow Elkins as she hurriedly grabs surgical supplies in the adjacent room, the camera on her, but our vision drawn to the window exposing Thack as he desperately tries to save Sears. We know he’s failed before Elkins does. Similarly, the hilariously grim cut from Barrow in the brothel, to Thack sawing off an arm, focuses on Elkins. She’s a still statue amid a scene of action and chaos, struggling to work out of her element, as any viewer likely would be in such a scenario. Finally, as all volunteers at the Little Africa infirmary make their way home for the evening, it’s Elkins who the camera once more brings to our attention. There are no more distractions for her, or us. When she chooses to make a move for herself, and know she’s going to invite Thackery to stay the night, we get to see her make that decision.
Much as “Get the Rope” would have made for a satisfyingly energetic hour to end the season on, the fact that we have three more episodes to go is even more appealing. Though it required some extreme circumstances to make it happen, we’ve seen what happens when The Knick puts all its toys in the same sandbox, and the results were incredibly rewarding. Like the rain washing away the angry rioters, the explosive fallout of tonight’s hour will no doubt see things return to a more disparate arrangement. But now that The Knick has passed the “I Identify With, and Am Interested in These Characters” test, it has the chance to move things to the next level. We know who these characters are, and we like seeing them in action together. Now we need to see if those actions have the potential to change them into people who truly can surprise us.
- Stray Observations
-I would not be the least bit shocked if Gallinger popped out another kid that’s a boy, and named him Monty. Between his generally snide manner and use of words like “school chum,” and “contraption,” he sometimes sounds a lot like Mr. Burns.
-Structurally, the episode wraps around the main crisis with wonderful symmetry. The contrasting scenes of Thack performing surgery that open the hour link temporal through the same character, while the pair of scenes at the end link thematically. The former also gives us some insight into Thackery’s God complex: he’s positively humble compared to the lavish praise Christensen loves to dump on him.
-More fantastic staging when we first see Sears eyeing the young lady outside the dance emporium (which we latter see Barrow rushing off to). She’s framed precisely in the middle of an opening in the walls such that she’ll stands out. Sears thinks he’s been served up a mark on a silver platter, but doesn’t seem to mind the cart of pedestrians on the right that’s unbalancing the shot, and will play a key role in spreading all the madness that’s soon to follow.
-Oh, Bertie. Much as I love the guy, it was hilarious (and completely keeping in character) to see that he needs a proto-Viewmaster to perform surgery solo.