Barry recap: Finding the ugliest version of yourself

The opening shot of tonight’s episode of Barry sees a gangster riding atop a truck filled with sand locked to the center of the frame. He rides without a care in the world, as if floating to his destination while holding a military-grade assault rifle that’s as common as apple pie here in the United States of America. The truck pulls into NoHo Hank’s compound, spraying high-quality sand to rapturous applause. The glee Barry takes in presenting a violent world through an optimistic and casual lens has always been a primary component of the show and its comedy. Still, the ease with which these violent, nefarious actors move through the world makes Barry such a bittersweet, sometimes scary watch. It’s unpleasant confronting how normalized violence is and it’s even more unpleasant siding with its perpetrators.

At its heart, Barry is a show about people who, deep down, embrace the ugliest sides of themselves while maintaining that they’re still good people. Even NoHo Hank believes, at the end of the day, he’s a heavy chiller with a good attitude. He’s a good friend—who betrayed the Chechens on Barry’s behalf numerous times—a sharp dresser, and willing to be emotionally available to those around him. However, for all the work he’s done on stage, Barry refuses such vulnerability. He wants people to acknowledge he’s good without putting in any work.

Hank and Barry’s phone call at the end of the episode shows their separation. Working with a conflicted and regretful Fuches, Hank puts a hit on Barry. To phrase it like the interrogators, he’s in a friend fight with Barry and brings in the Toro (played by Guillermo Del Toro) to take him out. Toro, too, keeps the game going, telling Hank that his two best guys on the job. Don’t worry, though. This won’t interrupt their podcasting schedule since they record on Thursdays. Only in Barry can a top assassin be so visible (or not so visible as you’d have to pull over and click a link to see any pictures) as to have a top-rated gadget podcast. Maybe it’s true. Everyone has a podcast these days.

Yet, while the gangsters openly trade in the media, the actors run from exposure and find themselves acting like gangsters. After his big one-man show last week, Gene Cousineau and his agent Tom (the spectacular Fred Melamed, who is just an ace in the hole for this show) meet with DA Buckner (Charles Parnell) in a scene even more loaded with great lines than the one previous. Much to Cousineau’s dismay, Buckner informs them that the FBI has cut a deal with Barry, but the acting teacher has nothing to worry about so long as he keeps his mouth shut. Well, he’s screwed. Despite owning a prop gun given to him by Rip Torn, Cousineau decides to go into hiding because of the one-man show he gave Lon O’Neil last week—a revelation so shocking Tom careens into oncoming traffic upon hearing about it.

Strangely, the car crash signals a shift the in the episode. Throughout “you’re charming,” characters undergo various role reversals, starting with Barry’s first meeting with the FBI. This scene is primarily expository, but it reveals how much Sally’s admission that Barry makes her feel safe affects Barry. Nevertheless, Barry is now in Cousineau’s position, working with the police to save himself. Hader, who continues to deliver an unpredictable and wholly complete character through Berkman, looks filled with purpose as he remembers what she said. But, of course, we get the opposite when he visits with Lon when Barry’s explosive anger counters whatever paternalism he holds over Sally. After the Thief collage last season, Hader is still living in James Caan mode, ready to pop at a moment’s notice. Moreover, we get the two sides of Barry, the one who’s pleased with himself because he has a mission, and the other who will kill Gene Cousineau for not keeping his fucking mouth shut.

But Barry’s not the only one getting tough. Sally is teaching Cousineau’s “Hit Your Marks And Say Your Lines” acting classes and acting a lot like her old mentor. In her first attempt at running the class, she pulls together a crew that looks like a dollar-store version of the one we met in season one. And strangely, Sally’s never seemed more in control and confident. Sure, she’s concerned that people are only in the class because she’s the “Entitled C-word Girl,” but the class sympathizes with her anger. Well, until it’s thrown back on them.

When a blonde woman named Kristen (Ellyn Jameson) comes to class unprepared with a monologue from Sunset Blvd., Sally dresses her down as her teacher did to her. Then, in a tight close-up that Sarah Goldberg fearlessly owns, Sally attacks her looks, motivations, and past, accusing her of being an attractive and “charming” woman who had been told her whole life that she should be an actor based on those qualities. It has never felt more like Sally was confronting herself—so much so that I thought the role Kristen booked was as Sally in an upcoming film version of the Barry Berk—ahem—Gene Cousineau story.

Sally tells the class that the work of an actor requires mental torture and the ability to recall horrible emotions and memories to serve the scene, much like the emotions Barry and, well, everyone on the show tries to shut out. She encourages them to be the “ugliest versions of themselves,” but she’s talking about herself again. This is the ugliest version of Sally, and the class isn’t having it. They call her abusive and her tactics unnecessary. The class is more supportive of the now-viral video in which Sally attacks Natalie than this technique, possibly because that’s actual anger instead of acting anger. After using Cousineau’s get-out-of-jail-free card (“a tight five”), Sally finds everyone in the class has abandoned her, except Kristen, who still needs help preparing for a role.

As Sally becomes Gene, Gene becomes Barry, engaging in some light recon to steal the information from Lon’s computer monitor where these things are typically stored. Hader directs another impressive oner as his camera tracks through the O’Neil residence. It’s a testament to his comic precision that he can maintain the dread and fear of home invasion thrillers while getting away with Melamed searching for a snack. When Lon’s wife walks back in (“Lon’s wife in the house!”), Cousineau sweet talks her into telling him that Lon is at Jim Moss’ house. Unbeknownst to her, Moss is torturing him in the garage and wiping his brain so that he can only speak German. But at least she didn’t care much about the planter Tom put through her window. (Again, characters don’t always react to violence in the typical ways on this show.)

There’s a lot of talk of trust and honesty in this episode. And as Sally forges a new, potentially unhealthy relationship with her acting student, Hank exits one with one of his best friends. In a call from prison, Barry tells Hank that he needs a “dog catcher” for Cousineau—and, to be explicitly clear, Barry is asking Hank to murder Gene—and Hank refuses. He knows that Barry is working with the feds and drops some uncomfortable truths similar to the ones he dropped when Barry asks if he is evil in season two. Hank calls Barry a murdering, self-centered, narcissistic piece of shit. Barry counters by informing Hank that, actually, he’s a good person and a good friend. He still can’t see the truths that he doesn’t want to be true.

But it won’t matter because he’s about to make his escape, but not before Fuches, once again, has a change of heart. After withstanding the vicious insults from his former crew, like “big bird,” “fish tits,” and, my favorite, “baby shoes,” Fuches watches Rain Man and realizes he’s made a terrible mistake. He and Barry aren’t enemies. Fuches is Cruise, and Barry is Hoffman. They are Rain Man, and Fuches can’t let his little meal ticket fall, so he tells the guards that someone will kill Berkman.

Thankfully, Toro’s best men are better at podcasting than killing. As Barry’s meeting with the feds begins, he notices an agent (played by Fred Armisen) that appears to have a rolling boil bubbling in his head. The agent sweats and shakes with Lynchian menace as Barry clocks him as an assassin. Then, with the killer unmasked, the agent pulls out a peashooter, fires, and screams in horror as the gun explodes in his hand with such viscera. It is truly a surprising moment that kicks off a massacre via the drop ceiling, taking every agent in the room out and leaving an open door for Barry.

There were times in this episode the show felt a little expository, as if we were seeing more setup than payoff—particularly with all the business regarding Barry and Cousineau and the return of Batir (JB Blanc). Still, I can’t stop thinking about it as a whole. There’s so much magic in this episode: the camera work in the opening shot, the home invasion, Sally’s close-up, the cameos that never feel overplayed—even as Armisen grasps his now mangled hand—Han Zimmer’s Rain Man theme needle-drop…. There’s no scene without something original or strange or worth seeing. These killers tap into their ugliest versions as those around them chew Skittles, serve them jalapeño poppers, and enjoy their podcasts. That’s crime utopia, and it remains sublime television.

Stray observations

• “Yeah, it’s called Los Amigos Gadget. Each week they rate and review a different gadget, but none of the gadgets work. Like once, they did a jacket that cooks s’mors in its pocket. It’s really stupid.”
  “I bought one of those. It works fine.”
• Watching Del Toro’s face lose its smile as Hank begins mocking the jacket was one of the episode’s funniest moments. Anyone that’s ever bought an expensive item on Instagram only to find out it’s stupid but can’t admit it to themselves can relate to this one. Online shopping truly brings out the worst versions of ourselves.
• Last note on the podcast: Del Toro’s face is a bit inscrutable, but I get the impression that Toro is either hosting or producing the podcast. He is not here for Hank’s criticism about the lack of visuals on the show—probably because he’s been fielding them for a while. I’ve probably spent more time thinking about this than they spent writing it. Either way, he’s a friend of the show.
• “If Rip Torn gave it to you, it probably fires real bullets” is a line I plan on working into my everyday life.
• “You know what? I’m just going to go into hiding.”
  “They always find you. I’ve had many cases like this but I can’t talk about them.”
  “Because they’re classified?”
  “No. They’re really disturbing, and I just don’t like thinking about them.”
• Winkler has so many strange line deliveries on this show, but his exhausted “I don’t know” after the crash is one of my favorites. He is at the end of his rope with himself.
• “Ah, shit, that was a kitchen in there.”
• “Do you guys have Julia Roberts on your cover?”
  “Yeah, I’m sure at some point.”
• Patrick Fischler’s German was genuinely unexpected. However, I was happy to see him alive after Jim Moss was seen spraying down his trunk with a hose.
• “Tell Gene Cousineau to shut his fucking mouth” is something people have been saying around Hollywood for decades.