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Loki recap: The show lets its darker, grosser, and better impulses off the leash

"Heart Of The TVA" drops multiple grotesque punchlines to undercut some very saccharine speeches about hope

Loki recap: The show lets its darker, grosser, and better impulses off the leash
Gugu Mbatha-Raw Photo: Gareth Gatrell

What does Loki want?

It’s a question we’ve returned to, again and again, across the first four episodes of his titular TV show’s energetic, inventive, decidedly haphazard second season. (Those were the only episodes aired for critics ahead of time, by the by, so we’re now flying as blind as the rest of you as we move, explosively, into the back half of the run.) Our ostensible main character has spent much of that time on the move—away from his time jitters, toward Sylvie and the TVA, in pursuit of Asshole Brad, or Victor Timely and his importance to solving the Big CGI Space Wedgie. But to what greater (or glorious) purpose? Tom Hiddleston is acting his heart out, bringing humanity and charm to a character who’s always been more than his preening outer layers. But in service of what?

The oddest, and most potent, scene in “Heart Of The TVA” is the one that tackles this question most directly, as Loki and Sylvie have their most heated argument yet about his inexplicable devotion to saving the TVA. A conversation that is, despite our occasional jokes about the show’s “Not All Time Cops Are Bad” rhetoric, pretty damn difficult to divorce from real-world conversations about efforts to reform institutions that have historically done far more damage in their efforts to “protect” people than any actual good. (Ditto the conversation between B-15 and Liz Carr’s Judge Gamble about potentially working with the rogue General Dox, who was blowing up whole timelines en masse just two episodes ago.) Most of Loki and Loki’s talking points are just pablum—“hoping people will be better later” is a tough pill to swallow when the show constantly reminds us that trillions of people have died every time the TVA has gone a-prunin’, and with Sylvie herself having literally been ruled unworthy of existing, full stop, by the previous regime.

But the most interesting bit of this scene comes at the end, when Loki asserts, with total sincerity, that “You can’t give people free will and just walk away.” It’s here, finally, that we can catch a glimpse of a throughline back to the version of his character from The Avengers (which, it’s worth remembering, is only a few weeks at most in the rearview of his personal timeline) who railed frequently against the burdens of free will to anyone who would listen. This new, more patrician/protective stance on the issue is a softer take on the character than his old “stop thinking and worship me” position from the 2012 film. But we can at least see for once how we got from there to here, Hiddleston and Sophia DiMartino ushering these character moments along step by step by reminding us that Loki still sees himself, first and foremost, as a god—a more benevolent one now, but still possessed of an inherent need for order or control. It’s uncomfortable, and weird, and it’s not clear how much the show understands how hard it’s stretching and straining its own morality. But it’s also a genuine point of view for Hiddleston to get hold of, rather than just “run at the threat while yelling,” and it’s probably the third-best thing about this episode.

Thank god Time Fascist Renslayer is here to blow all that delicious ambiguity to hell then, right? (We’re only being half-sarcastic there, actually; her return to the narrative happens just as “Heart Of The TVA” picks up serious steam.) One quick plot reveal, i.e. the not wholly surprising information that she and He Who Remains built the TVA together before he wiped her memories alongside everyone else, is enough to send Renslayer into full “let’s smash everybody into goo” megalomania. (Credit to Gugu Mbatha-Raw for at least trying to tie her character’s mental state together, linking HWR’s betrayal into her belief in her own utter indispensability.) The wayward judge and her horrifying time computer pal smash their way right back into all this moral quibbling with a quickness, turning Brad into their minion and the rest of the rogue Minutemen into an unseen box of, well, people paste. (We have to wonder if directors Justin Benson and Aaron Morehead were at all tempted to show the results of the grisly executions-by-“very small box” on camera; kudos, at least, for the use of sound effects in this scene, as Rafael Casal’s horrified face expresses the show’s sudden and welcome embrace of its nastier side. And the hilariously gross cut from the wet sounds of the aftermath to the drip of hot chocolate into a cup? That’s the second-best thing in the episode, hands down.)

Finally, we spend the other major chunk of the episode with our eye on Victor Timely. First off: Let’s all thank Jonathan Majors for dialing down the starting-stopping vocal affectations this week, making Timely a bit less grating to listen to as he and O.B. geek out over their cross-time influence on each other. (Far more grating: Having a character named Ouroboros say “It’s like a snake eating its own tail!” as though that’s at all clever or cute. It’s not! That’s literally what the character’s name means!) Ke Huy Quan and Majors have fun with their “bromance,” though, especially O.B.’s embarrassment that his “let’s explain the plan” model isn’t up to his usual snuff. (He only had time for one coat of paint.) The actual plot is Exposition Soup—a thing has to be plugged into a thing, there’s a button, some weirdly literal stuff about the Loom’s ability to manage time threads, etc. The far bigger appeal is getting a couple of those deceptively enjoyable comedy scenes that Loki manages any time it actually lets itself breathe for a second, as the cast bickers their way through a plan that O.B. is pretty sure will work (more on that in a second).

Everything gets sidetracked when Renslayer nabs Timely while he’s busy being entranced by the TVA’s hot-cocoa machine. A quick enchantment (plus a plot-convenient disabling of the TVA’s magic dampeners) later, though, and this whole plotline has been summarily resolved: a rescued Timely, a pruned Renslayer, and a very confused Brad. And if it feels like we’re rushing here, it’s just because “Heart Of The TVA” kind of is at this point, too, in a hurry to get to what is, undoubtedly, the very best part of the episode.

What’s that? Well, it’s what happens once the whatsit Casey and O.B. have been building all episode is finally fixed, the doors to the Loom are finally opened, and Timely steps out into space to save the day while heroic music blares—and is then instantly, immediately destroyed, unraveling into horrifying time spaghetti as everyone watches in horror. Then the Loom blows up. Then the TVA explodes. Rocks fall. Everybody dies.

It’s not just a damn fine cliffhanger: It’s a hilarious subversion of Loki’s more traditional storytelling impulses, which can sometimes fall back on gung-ho optimism when its more interesting urges fail it. With two episodes left in the season, there’s obviously a fix on its way—and if this isn’t the inciting incident for Timely getting himself Kang-ified across the timeline, we’d be shocked—but in the moment, it hits like a pitch-black, gruesomely hilarious truck. (The minor key, enigmatic Loki theme, always good, goes full bonkers bombastic here to wonderful effect.) After three episodes and change of at least partially just putzing around, Loki slams on the gas, indulging in all its darker, nastier, more demented elements, and it’s enough to have us genuinely energized for what these next episodes might do.

Stray observations

  • Timely notes his own sudden popularity with time travelers/murderers/potential kidnappers: Even “the effervescent clock lady monster wants me.”
  • Owen Wilson is mostly comic relief here, so thank god he’s funny. “I mean, Loki’s really going to have to hoof it, right?”
  • The production design on this show is never less than impeccable; we’d love to have one of those “Bring your own cup” posters from the Pieland automat.
  • “Clocks don’t tick at the TVA, right?”
  • The vibe between Dox and X-5 remains quietly fascinating. “Well, it seemed like you gave up when you sold out our plan.” “…I didn’t know you knew that.” Casal plays the character as such a mixture of doofus and genuine threat.
  • “I know, I’m working on myself.”
  • Miss Minutes’ physical reactions to things continue to be cleverly deployed—her eyeroll at almost-certain Variant Renslayer talking down other Variants is especially pointed.
  • Eugene Cordero’s Casey is also here, because someone’s got to repeat all the things O.B. says in a more worried voice.
  • Timely, confronted by a very pissed Renslayer and Miss Minutes: “Thank… god… you’re both okay!” Majors gets a couple of comedy beats tonight, and continues to hit them all really hard.
  • We skipped over it in the review proper, but the episode also takes a few minutes to resolve the time loop from “Ouroboros” by having Loki be the one who prunes his past self; the show treats this as massively important, but it’s not clear why, since our Loki knows past Loki will be fine. A weirdly inconsequential thing.
  • Miss Minutes is great throughout, honestly, a small-doses character deployed perfectly. “You’ll never be him.”
  • Again, hard to overstate how nasty the effect of Timely unspooling is. A really genuinely shocking/funny moment.
  • It can be tempting, given their pre-existing fame and reputation, to put too much focus on Benson and Morehead’s contributions to an episode like this. But “Ouroboros” and “Heart Of The TVA” really do feel of a piece with each other, filled with match cuts, off-kilter camera angles, and transitions that contribute mightily to the look and vibe of the episodes in lots of little ways.

Stream Loki now on Disney+

 
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