“Shit, still in Wind Gap,” Detective Richard Willis (Chris Messina) mutters as he wakes up in his sweltering hotel room. Yes, Willis, we are still in Wind Gap and we’re now halfway through Sharp Objects. The fourth episode in the series is a kick to the face, addressing sexual assault, sexual tension, and the festering pain of the Preaker-Crellin family.
Adora is still whimpering about her hand, which she cut while trimming her roses. The small flesh wound is now being used as an excuse to have her husband, Alan, cut her breakfast and to cancel her social engagements. This means Camille must go meet Jackie (Elizabeth Perkins) and friends alone. The older women are just as gossip-focused as the rest of the town; No one is safe from their sharp tongues.
Any project that includes Amy Adams rightfully garners great attention, but this time, audiences can be graced with the actress’s talent in their homes each week in HBO’s latest limited series, Sharp Objects. Based on Gillian Flynn’s novel of the same name, the premiere follows Camille Preaker, a reporter based in St. Louis, as her boss sends her back to her hometown of Wind Gap to cover the investigation of a murdered girl and a missing girl. Starting the first scene of the series with Camille being awakened by her younger self sets the haunting tone. Before we are introduced to the protagonist, it’s made known that she has demons that follow her, even in events that are supposed to be peaceful. Her editor obviously cares for her and believes this assignment will be good for the newspaper and Camille — personally and professionally. For Camille, however, it seems like a grave choice to return home and be reunited with her mother. She plays her music through her cracked phone — alluding to the show’s title — heavily drinks vodka throughout the day in a deceiving water bottle, and doesn’t interact much with other people. She’s broken — for unknown reasons as of yet — and she seems to accept this as her dark reality.
As ‘Westworld’ season two begins, and the first notes of Ramin Djawadi’s score are played, we see the credit sequence. Still familiar, but some things have changed. Instead of seeing two hosts having sex, there is a mother holding her baby; instead of machines creating a horse, a bison is smashing through glass; instead of an eye being created, it is being destroyed. This is no longer a show about pleasure and fantasy–it’s about death and rebirth. The senseless slaughter of hosts at the hands of humanity seemed without consequence. But now, it’s time to pay in blood.