Some Thoughts about the Into the Badlands Season 2 Finale

Into the Badlands wrapped up its second season earlier this week.  Getting into spoilers here (for this episode, as well as Sleepy Hollow’s “Ragnarok” and Orange is the New Black’s “The Animals.”)

After being separated for the whole of the season, Sunny and Veil finally find their way back to one another, with Sunny fighting and slashing his way across the wastelands to return to his family and Veil holding out in a hellish prison, hoping Sunny’s still alive but having no assurance of that fact.  In the finale, Sunny has finally made it back to the Badlands and hits Quinn’s compound with Bajie, tearing it up something good, and Veil and Sunny are finally reuinited… for about two seconds.

I know that’s an exaggeration.  They share a beautiful time-stopping kiss together and Sunny is introduced, at last, to his son Henry.  There are all kinds of baddies (and explosions) for Sunny to contend with, and Quinn in particular has a knock-down drag-out fight with Sunny that gets super dicey in places.  It seems like, after all the pain and all the time apart, Sunny and Veil are going to get their hard-fought chance to begin a life together, and the show does give that its due.  It just doesn’t feel like it when, at the last second, Quinn staggers back to his feet and grabs Veil, holding a blade to her as he demands that Sunny hand over Henry in exchange for Veil.  Sunny cries out in anguish as the woman he loves makes the choice, stabbing Quinn through her own body to take him down with her.  With her final breaths, she implores Sunny to teach Henry how to be good.

This episode naturally brought to mind the deaths of Abbie on Sleepy Hollow and Poussey on Orange is the New Black, and after my brain was able to compose thoughts more complex than, They did it, they really killed her – damnit, I started to compare my feelings here to my reactions there.

First of all, since Veil is very squarely Sunny’s love interest and her characterization has, if only slightly, coasted on that a bit, that makes this the most classic fridging of the three deaths.  Veil does have a small amount of agency in her death scene – if she had to die, I like that it was while simultaneously killing Quinn, who was such a skin-crawlingly vile captor to her – but ultimately, she’s dead so Sunny can mourn her (and feel guilt about her death being caused by his past sins catching up to him, as Nathaniel Moon hinted to him earlier in the season.)

In terms of comparing it to the other two episodes, Veil’s death doesn’t make me see red to the extent that Abbie’s did.  Sleepy Hollow made me feel like it was throwing half of its foundation as a show in the garbage, undermining that wonderful character’s worth to the series while reframing her entire narrative as having been about propping up Ichabod’s story.  I don’t get that with Veil, in part because, while I really liked her a lot, Into the Badlands is more of an ensemble and has never been “about” Veil the way that Sleepy Hollow was about Abbie.  On a more positive note, I don’t really see the show devaluing her.  It will be telling how the series moves forward, if the events here continue to reverberate with Sunny for a long time, but at least in this moment, the episode is heavy with the loss that Veil’s death brings.

That said, Poussey’s death was done in such a way that I lamented that it had to be her even as I understood the story reasons why they did it.  It was a heartbreaking episode for me, and I still miss Poussey terribly (it’s going to be such a different experience watching season 5 without her in it.)  But just as Veil’s death doesn’t infuriate me like Abbie’s, it also doesn’t move me like Poussey’s.  That’s because the story doesn’t do the work to make it tragic but inevitable.  In fact, it’s pretty downright sloppy.  There’s no way Quinn should’ve still been alive after Sunny running him through multiples times with his sword (with rings on it!), but even if that wasn’t the case, there’s nooooo way Sunny would’ve turned his back on Quinn without cutting off his head first.  After what happened with them at the end of last season, Sunny would’ve made damn sure Quinn was really dead, and the way he’s freely slicing off limbs and heads and cutting a dude in half earlier in the episode only highlights how stupid it is for him not to do the same here.

So, if Abbie’s death left me shaking my fist and Poussey’s left me shaking with tears, Veil’s left me shaking my head.  My prevailing thought, still, is for what?  Why was it so essential that she had to die in such a hastily-done way, and why am I seeing such a disappointing fridging on a show I’ve come to expect more of?  Badly done, show – badly done.

Favorite Characters: The Master (Into the Badlands)

Even though each individual storyline has been really on-point, I’m still a bit mixed on how separated all the characters on Into the Badlands have been for much of this season.  As much as I enjoy the various offshoots, a part of me has just been antsy to get everyone back into the same sphere.  But like I said, all of the separate storylines have worked for me, including M.K.’s, which was a bit of a surprise – he can grate at times, and I’ve been known to say, “Shut up, M.K.” to my TV.  For me, though, I’d say the real strength of his storyline early in the season is down to the presence of a new character who joins him there:  the Master (M.K. and Master-related spoilers.)

At the end of season 1, M.K. does get out of the main society of the Badlands, although not in the way he’d been planning.  Rather, he’s incapacitated and stuffed into a trunk by a trio of hardcore warrior monks who secret him away to a secluded monastery for people like him, “dark ones” who unlock great power but lose control of themselves whenever their skin is cut.  Knowing that his “curse” has made him unwittingly responsible for people’s deaths (basically, he turns into a dark-eyed killing machine,) M.K. agrees to training in the hopes of the curse being purged from him, but he grows increasingly impatient with the proceedings.

Enter the Master.  Where M.K. is agitated, she is still.  Where M.K. accuses and argues, she replies in measured tones.  Every ounce of her gives off the aura that she’s been around, she knows shit, and M.K. would be wise to take a seat and listen to her.  While he’s hit-or-miss in that department (M.K. will be M.K.,) the Master is there anyway, patiently waiting for him to wake up and realize this isn’t something he gets to undertake on his own terms.  This is a process – she’s seen it, she knows how it goes, and if he can get out of his own way, she can help him.

I just love how she carries herself and goes about M.K.’s training.  She’s firm and doesn’t put up with M.K.’s nonsense, but at the same time, she’s very warm and empathetic.  It’s blatantly obvious that M.K. wants a quick fix, but the Master is starting him down a journey, and while she can lay out the road for him, she knows he’s the one who has to walk it.  It’s a lot of what frustrates him about her, because he feels she’s withholding the answers from him when that’s not the point – the point is, he has to find them, or it won’t matter.  It’s training his body, training his mind, venturing inside himself, finding his demons and not just fighting them but finding a way to reconcile them.  You can tell she cares deeply for him, and I imagine that, in the many kids she’s shepherded through this process, not all of them have made it and that weighs heavily on her.  But she keeps on and does the work, because that’s what she’s about.  When M.K. needs a reality check, she’ll knock him on his ass, and when he needs someone to hold him like a frightened child, she’ll do that, too.  All to turn his powers from a curse that controls him to a gift he can wield.

Unfortunately, despite my eagerness to get the main characters back together, one downside of reuniting M.K. with Sunny has meant far less Master than I’d have liked lately.  However, we’ve been shown that a few other characters have ties to the monastery and the Master, and so even if we don’t have time to circle back around to her before the season ends on Sunday, I hope we can at least rest assured that her presence on the show isn’t over.

And yeah, because it’s worth saying – this is gorgeous, shining proof of how you can use a “wise Asian master” archetype without it being an offensive stereotype (areyou listening, Marvel?)  The Master, for all her sagacity, greatness, and mysteriousness, is absolutely still a person.  She gives a lot of cryptic, important-sounding advice, but she also has moments of levity, of concern, of compassion, and of irritation.  Chipo Chung (who I’ll always remember as Chantho from Doctor Who’s “Utopia”) is just stellar in the role.  She imbues the Master with such humanity in her line readings, always feeling like a living person rather than just a type.  It’s not the archetype itself that’s offensive – it’s the often lazy and ignorant way it’s executed, and there’s no rule that says you have to do that.  Given shade and complexity, a well-worn character type can feel vibrant, original, and respectful, and that’s exactly what’s been done here.

Favorite Characters: Jade (Into the Badlands)

Jade is an interesting character to me because I can’t quite pin her down.  With the other women on the show, they tend to very immediately display what they’re about, from the Widow’s fierceness and determination to Veil’s intelligence and mercy.  Jade was less of an entity for me at first, not until I realized that being unsure of her intentions was the whole point (some Jade-related spoilers.)

From the start, it’s hard to position Jade within Quinn’s house.  She’s Quinn’s soon-to-be second wife, adored by him and naturally despised by his first wife Lydia, all the while secretly canoodling with Quinn and Lydia’s son Ryder.  She’s also one of Quinn’s former cogs, which instantly makes the relationship between them even more unsettling; at points in season 1, Quinn makes “loving” references to how sweet she used to look serving him back when he owned her. 

Part of the issue here is that, between the whole baron/cog dynamic and the patriarchal angle of a baron being free to “take” as many wives as he likes, it isn’t clear how active a participant Jade was in this coming about, which makes it more difficult to glean her motives.  Did Quinn merely decide he wanted her and they were therefore engaged?  Is Jade trying to make the best of a dicey situation, simply trying to survive?  As his former slave, is she quasi-indoctrinated to be loyal to him and so gives him whatever he wants?  Does she genuinely desire Quinn, either attracted to him or enamored of his position?  Did she pursue him – could she have?  If not, could she have positioned herself in such a way to catch his eye?  Is she a schemer like Lydia thinks, angling for the relative power of being a baroness (not to mention, duh, no longer being a slave?)  How does Ryder fit into all this?

Jade’s ultimate aim seems to have shifted (or expanded?  Maybe?  It’s still hard to say for sure) over the course of the series, but one thing is clear:  she isn’t passive in this whole thing.  If she initially appears a bit like Sansa Stark from Game of Thrones, an innocent and at least moderately naïve girl caught by the whims of a powerful, volatile man, she goes on to show signs of being more like Margaery Tyrell, a smart woman who knows precisely what part to play in order to get what she wants.  Even her “woman of the people” moments, working in the fields herself when the Widow makes off with some of Quinn’s cogs and generally advising better treatment of the cogs, reminds me of Margaery’s public displays of caring for the poor of King’s Landing.  The big difference, though, is that Margaery is a wealthy member of one of Westeros’s most important families while Jade actually came from the masses whose lives she tries to better – she may no longer be a cog, but the brand marking her as Quinn’s property is still visible on her hand.  Or would Eva Perón be a better comparison?  Somewhere between the two?

As power in the Badlands has been rapidly changing hands throughout season 2, Jade has ridden the turbulent waves quite well for the most part.  While it’s not entirely clear how much of it is what she wanted and how much of it is her pivoting as she sees which way the wind is blowing, but it’s risen her stock higher and higher.  It now appears she may have flown too close to the sun for her own good, but I don’t think I’d count her out yet.  Jade is definitely a survivor, and apparent weakness/powerlessness has worked to her advantage before – when the dust settles, who knows where she’ll be?

Relationship Spotlight: Veil & Sunny (Into the Badlands)

On Into the Badlands, Sunny and Veil’s relationship is somehow central and understated at the same time – a better, safer life for him and Veil is the goal that drives much of Sunny’s actions, and because of his clipper status, the very fact that they have a relationship puts them both in danger, and yet there isn’t a huge amount of drama mined from them as a couple.  It’s like they have the plot relevance of a main-character romance as well as the more low-key portrayal of a supporting-character romance, both of which are good things in my book (a few spoilers.)

One of the first things the show does right with Sunny/Veil is having them already in an established relationship when the show starts.  “Celebrated clipper with 404 kill tattoos” and “gentle doctor who helps even her enemies” is quite the opposites-attract pairing, which gives it dramatic potential, but it’s also the sort of dynamic that could tip very easily into “‘bad boy’ (ugh) redeemed by the love of a good woman (ugh!)” territory.  If we’d opened on a will-they-won’t-they instead of an established couple, showing their polar-opposite approaches to life and death while their physical chemistry inevitably brings them closer and closer together, I feel like that dynamic might have been hard to avoid.

As it is, though, we don’t see Veil trying to understand how “she could ever be attracted to a man like Sunny” or Sunny wrestling to bite back his feelings because “deep down, he knows he doesn’t deserve her.”  There’s no, “What are we doing?”, “This could never work,” “A person like you,” and so on and so forth.  Whatever brought them together – we don’t know the details, but since Veil is a doctor and Sunny is in a wildly dangerous line of work, I bet some level of patching-up was involved at some point – by the time we meet them, Veil and Sunny are already comfortably, beautifully together.

I love the softness of their first scene in bed:  the soulful companionship, the easy sensuality, the clear sense of deep trust between them.  Lounging in bed together in comfortable states of undress, Sunny works at his literacy (Veil has been teaching him to read,) and they both smile as he tosses the book aside and declares that The Cat in the Hat was better.  It’s not that they’re rock-solid, because genuine, substantial conflicts arise between them at different points, rising organically from the different ways they respond to the often-perilous trials of living in the Badlands.  But even when they fight, they talk to each other and the mutual respect comes through.  They feel like a real couple that just happens to be in an impossible situation in a post-apocalyptic world rather than a “TV couple,” and I like that.

They balance each other out quite nicely.  Sunny can protect them with his sword and glorious fighting skills if necessary, but Veil can remind him that that’s not always the optimal method of problem-solving.  Veil’s tendency toward hope can counteract Sunny’s toward pessimism, helping spur him to think of ideas rather than accept that nothing can be changed for the better.  Sunnny’s eye for strategy recognizes the smart plays, and Veil’s knowledge can help put them into action.  And Veil’s quiet diplomacy can open many doors, while Sunny’s guarded nature keeps her vigilant as well.  Just a great pairing all around – this season has had them apart from one another, and although it’s interesting to see how each reacts to challenges when they’re so far from the other, I can’t help but hope it doesn’t take too long to bring them back to each other.

Relationship Spotlight: Sunny & Quinn (Into the Badlands)

From my view, if you’re going to talk about Into the Badlands, you really have to get to the relationship between Sunny and Quinn at some point, and I can’t help doing it sooner rather than later.  So fascinating, so twisted, and infinitely watchable (a few major season 1 spoilers.)

When you first look at Sunny and Quinn’s relationship, it’s easy to think of Sunny as Quinn’s number two, his regent and most trusted clipper.  Quinn values Sunny’s input on matters of strategy and frequently seeks out his opinion on next moves, and it’s obvious that Ryder, Quinn’s own son, is jealous of Sunny’s favor/respect in Quinn’s eyes.  And in Quinn’s (very twisted) way, he does kind of view Sunny as an heir of sorts, as his pride and joy, his greatest success.

But there’s one thing you can never forget:  a clipper may have more perks and a great illusion of autonomy than a cog, but Quinn owns Sunny.  Sunny is Quinn’s slave who’s been trained to kill for him since he was a child, and it’s usually in the moments when you almost get lulled into thinking of them from a father/son perspective that Quinn asserts his ownership and you remember that Sunny is actually the property of a madman.  When Sunny is doing as he’s told and proving his value, Quinn is all smiles and conviviality, but the second Sunny tries to argue, he’s put in his place in the most devastating ways.  Quinn butchers the parents of Sunny’s secret lover with Sunny’s own sword when Sunny refuses to follow orders and do it himself, and he then forces Sunny to torch their house with the bodies inside.  When Sunny is out of Quinn’s favor, Quinn takes a malicious delight in breaking him down to remind him just what the dynamic is between them.

As a viewer, this can seem crazy.  By this point, we’ve seen what Sunny can do, and even though Quinn is a very talented fighter as well, it seems like a foregone conclusion that Sunny could wipe the floor with him (and even if things went the other way, it’s tempting to believe that Sunny would rather die trying than serve that monster a minute longer.)  And to be sure, season 1 is in large part about Sunny breaking from Quinn once and all, about the stakes raising to the point where Sunny can go against Quinn in a big way, but the stakes have to be insanely high before Sunny is prepared to make this move.  And this is what gets me most about their relationship:  Sunny’s often subservient, seemingly unshakable loyalty to Quinn despite how obviously terrible he is. 

It is more than just fealty to a baron in exchange for the benefits/protections that comes with.  Again, Sunny’s abilities in a fight are almost superhuman at this point, and he could easily protect himself and Veil from whatever might come at him.  I get that there are barriers to leaving the Badlands, and Sunny’s ultimate goal for them would be freedom rather than living in hiding, but that’s not really why it takes so long for him to pull the trigger on trying to leave, even more so on facing Quinn in a real fight.  Instead, it’s about Sunny’s genuine, self-destructive devotion to Quinn.  After all, when Sunny refuses to kill Veil’s parents for him, Quinn holds a blade to Sunny’s neck and Sunny doesn’t move a muscle.  At that point in the series, Sunny won’t follow this order, but he also won’t raise a hand againt Quinn, in defense of Veil’s parents or his own life.

That’s seriously messed-up, and it’s all rooted in Sunny’s many years under Quinn.  Like I said, he was “rescued” in the wastelands and brought to Quinn as a child, where he was groomed to become one of the greatest clippers the Badlands has ever seen.  And along the way, all that time, there was Quinn feeding him lies about how he saved Sunny, cared for Sunny, took Sunny from an unwanted nobody and fashioned him into the formidable man he is today.  From the outside looking in, it’s clear that these are all ludicrous lies, but Sunny has had a steady diet of this BS ever since he was a kid, and that changes a person.

It helps if you try to view it as similar to the dynamic between Agu and the Commandant in Beast of No Nation.  Even though the Commandant is a disgusting, manipulative human being who conscripts children into his “army,” that’s not how Agu sees it because the Commandant is a master at controlling the narrative, and so is Quinn.  You were lost and I found you.  You were left to die and I saved you.  You were powerless, defenseless, and I gave you the tools you need to protect yourself from any foe.  You’re like a son to me, more so than my own son, and I’m the only one who cares about you.  In light of how much I love you, you’ll fight for me, won’t you?  After all I’ve done for you, don’t you owe it to me?  That’s a powerful, heady stream of lies to fill a vulnerable child’s head with, and in a way, it’s just as disturbing to see to long-term effects of that manipulation when the child has long since become a man who would be more than skilled enough to break free but has been conditioned to the point that he can scarcely imagine such an idea.  That’s what I see when I look at Sunny and Quinn.

Favorite Characters: Veil (Into the Badlands)

Over the course of its first season and into its second, Into the Badlands has pulled back the layers on several really wonderful, varied female characters.  I enjoy them all greatly for different reasons, and I know that I’ll probably say something eerily similar when I get around to a write-up on the Widow, but for now, let me say that Veil might be my favorite.  She seems to be swimming in such a different direction than so many characters on the show, and there’s tremendous value in that (a few spoilers.)

In the harsh, brutal world of the Badlands, where the sheath of a sword is as commonplace an article of clothing as shoes, where the only law people understand is that those in power take it by force, Veil is a healer who looks to repair, not wound.  She serves as a doctor to cogs, clippers, and barons alike – though there are some classist protests at a “cog doctor” treating members of the elite, her skills and knowledge are ultimately too rare to be turned away – even helping those who would wish her harm. 

Quinn would argue that promoting life is in “her nature” just as killing is in his, and there’s an interesting give-and-take in the idea of how far Veil’s principles can carry her in the Badlands.  Is there a way to truly survive in this society without prioritizing one’s needs and desires over that of others, and hurting them to get it?  It’s a question that follows Veil throughout her time on the show, and while it’s weathered some tough storms, it’s a question that grows increasingly difficult as her own situation becomes more desperate (and, notably, as her needs coincide with someone else’s, someone whose very survival depends on hers.)

Which isn’t to say that Veil has no sense of self-preservation, just that she doesn’t live by a kill-or-be-killed mentality.  Rather, she survives by her intelligence.  She knows how essential her skillset is in the Badlands where blood is a way of life.  When she’s treating someone that she knows could easily kill her, she puts safeguards in place for herself, ensuring that they know they need her in order to make it through (her trick with the three bottles at the end of season 1 is particularly badass/clever.)  Meanwhile, she makes plans for the sort of life that doesn’t happen there.

And her intelligence isn’t purely medical knowhow.  She’s one of the few people in the Badlands who is fully literate (it’s hard to tell with the barons and their families, since a number of them rose out of the lower castes themselves, but most cogs and clippers definitely can’t read,) a skill that has served her in learning her trade as well as in other ways.  Additionally, I love the mechanical engineering smarts she displays with her “mimics,” prosthetic limbs she designs and builds herself for her patients.  I just love the image of an intelligent woman tinkering, and doing it to help others is even lovelier.

Intelligence, compassion, and an ability to put aside class/personal animosity for the good of human life.  Traits that are hard to come by in the Badlands, and while the first will of course always be with her, I can’t say for sure whether the other two will make it out of the Badlands intact.  Veil certainly has a hard road ahead, but I look forward to seeing where it takes her and how she travels it.

Favorite Characters: Sunny (Into the Badlands)

And so it begins.  I’ll try to pace myself (kind of,) but expect a lot of these in the coming weeks.  Digging in deeper with Into the Badlands, there’s a lot to love.  For me, though, everything starts with Sunny (a few spoilers.)

From what I can gather, Sunny has little to no memory of his life before training as a clipper.  Other characters reminisce about when he was found and brought to Quinn as a child – of the potential they saw in him even then – and he’s kept his compass with the symbol of Asra on it all these years.  He hides the compass, so he knows there’s something to it, but it’s hard to say what happened to him between then and now that gives us the man he is today.  Not just the lethal, incredibly-skilled clipper (we’ll get to that later,) but how entrenched he is in his life in the Badlands under Quinn.  Sure, he has his small rebellions that he conducts in secret:  his tender relationship with Veil when clippers are allowed sex but not love, his gradual journey toward literacy.  By and large, though, he seems to buy into what Quinn is selling, at least to the point that he never seriously considers defying him or leaving, not until M.K. shows up also carrying Asra’s symbol.  Was Sunny too young when he came to Quinn to hold onto memories of Asra?  Did the harsh brutality of his training make him bury thoughts of it, or maybe convince himself that Asra is just a fairytale he made up?  Did something horrible happen to him there that he’s blocked out, or somewhere between Asra and the Badlands?  Is it just that he had no way of getting back, so he decided not to dwell on it?

We can’t answer these questions, because we don’t get a lot from Sunny.  Some might call Sunny a rather stereotypical “stoic” martial artist, all glorious fight scenes and no character development or emotional connection, but I don’t get that at all.  While Sunny is certainly serious and taciturn, it’s not because he doesn’t feel anything, and it’s definitely not because there’s nothing going on under the surface.  Rather, Sunny keeps a lot hidden, unspoken.  This is partly due to pure safety.  Secrets can be dangerous in the Badlands, and not all of Sunny’s affect only him – he has Veil to think of as well.  And beyond secrets, as a clipper, even emotion can be a danger.  No matter how he came by it, most of his life has been about serving Quinn, and that means he always has to unshakeable.  Regardless of whatever doubts, guilt, or disagreement he might have, he can’t let on for a second.  But Sunny’s guardedness is out of more than survival instinct.  It’s also a reflection of all he’s seen and done, and what he thinks of himself as a result of it.  It’s easier to slaughter at Quinn’s behest if he shuts himself off from thinking of them as people, from thinking about the blood on his hands, and while he doesn’t really acknowledge it, he has a tendency to want to hide the darkest parts of himself from Veil.  So he keeps secrets.  He pretends.  He brushes things off.  He insists on doing things himself.  He wears a mask of cold apathy to fool others, and himself, into thinking that what he does can’t touch him.

For me, Sunny doesn’t come across the least bit blank.  I always feel what he has stirring beneath his calm, even voice and his set expression.  Daniel Wu is great at letting the smallest hints show through the cracks, whether it’s worry, remorse, aggravation, affection, shock, amusement, or fear.  It’s been interesting to see him in a different situation in the episodes so far this season, without the usual trappings he employs to distance himself.  He still tries to maintain the strong-and-silent thing, but it’s not nearly as solid – I think we might be getting a better look at who Sunny is when he’s not being Legendary Sunny the Clipper.

Speaking of?  Holy hell, can that man fight!  Within the first few episodes of the show, I thought it was stretching credibility that he’s only racked up 404 kills (how long has he been a clipper – six months?)  He is the absolute man in combat.  For me, it’s sort of like the martial-arts equivalent of listening to the deductions on the first couple seasons of Sherlock:  stunningly-perfect aptitude that’s completely on its own level and frequently leaves my jaw on the floor.  I don’t know if there’s any truth to the speculation that anyone with a connection to Asra has similar qualities as M.K., but either way, Sunny can’t be matched, and not just in his flawless execution.  I love the details that the fighting shows about Sunny as a person.  At various points when he fights, we see his ingenuity, determination, desperation, fury, and even playfulness (this can be a heavy show, and virtually every laugh is somehow tied to something Sunny does while he’s fighting.)  It’ll be interesting to see how if new circumstances – and new perspective – will change how he fights at all, for better or worse.

Into the Badlands (2016-Present)

I finally got on board the recommendations from the blog The Nerds of Color to watch Into the Badlands.  I didn’t start quite in time to be ready for the recent season 2 premiere, but I quickly mainlined the six-episode first season on Netflix and am now caught up with the current episodes.  Basically?  Love, love, love (premise spoilers.)

In a post-apocalyptic society, a feudal system ruled by a network of rival barons emerged after years of devastating war.  What’s left of society, the barons’ various territories, is known as the Badlands.  If you’re not a baron, you’re either a nomad (dog-eat-dog clans on the fringes of society,) a cog (a slave in your baron’s fields/factories/mines/etc.,) or a clipper (a member of your baron’s elite, highly-trained security force.)  Sunny works for Quinn, the opium baron, as his most celebrated clipper.  He’s very good at following orders and kills without compunction, and in the harsh world of the Badlands, he’s never really considered the possibility of a life that could be different.  When he comes upon M.K., a teenage wanderer with tales of a city outside the Badlands, however, Sunny starts to wonder if there really could be something better out there for him and those he cares about, and if there’s any way he could make it out alive.

It’s not perfect; I’ll admit that much.  Not every storyline is a slamdunk, and there are some logic holes here and there.  But I am all about this show.  What it occasionally lacks in precision, it makes up for in massive doses of stupendous originality – or rather, creative fusion.  There are a number of well-trod narrative paths here, although, in my opinion, the show generally does quite well with them.  What really dazzles me is the stunning blend of different genres and aesthetics.  At perhaps its most boiled-down description, this show is a steampunk kung fu Western set in a post-apocalyptic Antebellum South.  (I mean, are you kidding me?!  I am all over that.)  Even though the two shows are incredibly different, it reminds me a little of the late, lamented Kings in how intentional and thoughtful both are in their production design.  Here, the anachronistic flair and genre mixing creates a really stunning visual feast, a smorgasbord of crazy details you never knew you wanted to see together until this show put them onscreen for you.  I love the plantation look of the barons’ estates, the beautiful sleekness of the clipper uniforms, and the sheer fact that we have a main character who drives a motorcycle, fights with a sword, and carries a spyglass.  Only on this show, I tell you.

What I said about kung fu and sword-fighting?  Holy crap.  Part of the show’s premise is that, whenever it was in history that these catastrophic wars ended, they took with them all the guns.  This is a gunless society, ostensibly to prevent future war, although it’s clear it hasn’t made much of a dent in the brutal violence of the Badlands.  I’m not going to quibble about how realistic that is or speculate as to how it was achieved, because it’s all in service of the series’ most crowning bit of awesomeness:  all fighting now is carried out through martial arts and wuxia-style swordplay.  And it is amazing.  The fights on the show are absolutely insane, a weekly explosion of tremendous talent on the part of the fight choreographers, editors, and actors.  I love it so much.  Such a fine blend of skill and creativity, most often upping the ante, not just by sending increasingly-large waves of redshirts to face Sunny but by introducing locales that lend themselves to more innovative fighting, as well as unique challenges to overcome.  These scenes are spectacular, audacious, often slyly humorous, hugely impressive, and 100% exciting.  All the love to the fight scenes on this show.

I’m familiar with very few of the main actors on this show, with the exception of Sarah Bolger (Christy from In America all grown up!) and Orla Brady (who was in the Eleventh Doctor’s final episode.)  I think everyone, however, does a great job bringing their intriguing, complex characters to life.  Special props go to Emily Beecham as the Widow, Madeleine Mantock as Veil, and the man himself, the fantastic Daniel Wu for his phenomenal performance as Sunny.  Expect lots and lots more Into the Badlands posts in the near future.

Warnings

Huge amounts of intense violence, sexual content, drinking/drug use, language, and strong thematic elements.