Rewatching "The Americans": Season 3

Because of my Covid-induced torpor, I was not able to do much but lay back on the couch and binge stuff. There was nothing of interest on, and I had toyed with the idea of rewatching "The Americans" anyhow, so off I went and watched three seasons in five days. Hooray for Covid. I want to talk about the experience, but it comes with a spoiler warning.

And now, we're finally there. "The Americans" breaks into the pantheon of the greatest TV series of all time. How does it do that? By again reducing the pace of events, reducing their stakes, and by showing empathy less with the perpetrators but with the victims. 

 

Taking it slow is key, though. Instead of giving exhilerating chases, countdown times and other things, we have methodical procedures, observations, taking time and letting it play out. No longer do we have cat-and-mouse games, in which we as the audience are kept on a hook as to whether or not the FBI or the Jennings will reach a given destination first. 

 

Instead, the question is oftentimes much more banal than that, and deadlier. If the FBI - or another adversary - becomes aware of the operation, this oftentimes means death for people, and said deaths are never pretty. The show also really lingers on the aftermath. Messy killings, and even messier clean-up operations. You think it's great that Philipp can take out a security guard and break their neck? Yeah, sure, great skill. Now you have to dispose of a body. And that's not good for your mental health.

 

Exhibit A for this new approach is the infamous suitcase scene. After Philipp's naive contact Annelise betrays herself to Yousaf, the Pakistani official, who panics and murders her. Philipp, not missing a heartbeat, uses the murder of his erstwhile lover to blackmail Yousaf. Then, together with Elizabeth, they methodically break Annelise's limbs to stuff her body into a suitcase. The dehumanization is palpable, the camera lingers, and the crack of every bone is mirrored on the faces of the characters. It's incredibly uncomfortable to watch, and purposefully so. 

 

"The Americans" revels in this feeling in season 3. In many scenes, uncomfortable, painful moments - physically and emotionally painful - are the centerpiece of any given scene. Elizabeth has a broken tooth, but she can't go to the dentist, because the FBI is covering those. For three episodes, she suffers tooth aches, very visibly, and we suffer with her - until Philipp performs an impromptu tooth operation with a pair of pliers that is at the same time incredibly cringy and sexy, however the showrunners managed to do that. 

 

Building on the groundwork from season 2, we also have a very slow burning revelatory process for Paige, in which she not only grapples with her new-found faith, but also inches closer and closer to the real identity of her parents - who are nagged by the Center to recruit her, and rightly hesitant, given the events of past season. 

 

It's not only Paige, though. Martha also finds out that Clark isn't who he's supposes to be, and the revelation in the finale is devestating to behold. Never was taking off a whig over the course of two minutes more painful to watch, and it's an absoute marvel what actress Alison Wright can do with her face to have the sheer devestation, panic and confusion on display at the same time. 

 

I could gush about the performances endlessly. Every one of these actors is able to use their face conveying such small emotional ripples, like an open book. Gone are the shouty dialogue scenes from the seasons of yore; by now, Philipp and Elizabeth just need to exchange a look to do the work of two pages of dialogue. 

 

The slowness of everything reverberates to the other plotlines as well. The investigation into Agent Gaad's bugged pen, for example, plays out over multiple episodes, drip by drip, and you can see the impacts coming closer. The question is less whether Agent Taft will find something incriminating, but rather whether Martha will hold up to the strain. The strain, in the event, is not only coming from, you know, bugging the office of your superior FBI officer and comitting a felony, but also because of the double-life her "husband" "Clark" is living and whether or not she can cope with it. The character developments are intricately woven into the plot, and the breathing space "The Americans" allows all of this to have gives it its own suspenseful quality. 

 

The defining moment of the season, however, surely is the bugging of the mail robot. When Elizabeth needs to murder the kindly old lady who happened to stumble across them, she has to recon with the morality of her actions for real for the first time. Not only us as the audience can see the parallels between the old lady and Elizabeth's situation herself, but her clear-eyed condemndation of "And this is what you do!", each word spat out as the accusation and verdict that it is, really hits home. Yes, this is what they do, and how hollow are all justifications Elizabeth can offer. 

 

In case you didn't get the point, the operation is proving to be also completely pointless. The mail robot is not producing anything of value, only a bureaucratic nightmare threatening to clog up the Rezidentura's capabilities. Arkady, the ever-able bureaucrat, wants to shut it down, but Oleg stops him: much better to play the bureaucratic game and not take the fault for the foreseeable failure of the operation. 

 

It's this kind of institutional storytelling "The Americans" also excels out, showing us how the incentives and characterstics of the respective agencies bleed into the job itself, hamstringing our protagonists and their adversaries, their allies and their sources. Everyone's snared up in this, to quote "Chernobyl", "circle of accountability". 

 

Season 3 therefore manages to become the first really great "The Americans" season, finding the MO of what the show will be until the very end three more seasons down the road. I have Philipp's tortured face ingrained in my brain by now.