I SAW DARYL DIXON: SEASON 3 (AFTERTHOUGHTS/ACCOLADES)

Daryl Dixon: Season 3 has bid adios, and its seven mega-episodes kicked it all into high gear, as guided by Norman Reedus' titular hero, accompanied by his brave and kind kemosabe, Melissa McBride's Carol. And when I say they kicked it, I mean they kicked it way outta the park, with much of it fueled by Spanish, spaghetti-western grit. 

Oh, the season had its "sensitive" moments, too, I suppose, but I'm not talking about any of that Harry Potter or Maleficent bullshit that passive-aggressive, Mary Sue/Gary Stu proponents embrace in their sequestered, urban sectors or wherever basement bums call home. Season 3's emotions suckled loves that could never be reciprocated (even if soldered), and when it came to its epic, "brother-against-brother" contention, as administered by Oscar Jaeneda's Federico and Eduardo Noriega's Antonio, it may not have been Cane and Abel per se, but the impassioned undercurrent still caught the drift.  

Federico's reliance on (compliance to) lofty, bad men (like those entitled manipulators of The Magnificent 7, Guns for San Sabastian and The Wild Bunch) seemed a reasonable compromise on the surface, though foolhardy and futile in actuality. It's never wise to bow to terrorists, and if one must, there's got to be a clever contingency plan in wait. Unlike Federico, Antonio knew this, even while he played the sentimental film buff and ex-documentary man, who learned to despise the violent protesters who took the life of the woman he loved: the woman Federico also loved. 

It's through their rivalry that Daryl and Carol maneuvered themselves, sometimes by brute force and other times, through subtle, Yojimbo (A Fistful of Dollars) techniques, doing what was required to return to the United States. However, because they're principled people, the duo didn't rush off, once again finding time to help those in need. (Daryl's assistance of a leper town was one of Walking Dead's best moments, referencing a similar scenario from Franklin Schaffner/Steve McQueen's Papillon, and believe me, that's a pretty high perch to reach.) 

The season's walker moments hit the bullseye, too, including England's vegetated, prelude versions, and later the fancy, flesh-feasting puppets of the Spanish court (recalling a jolting scene from The Company of Wolves), but the living-dead-pulled locomotive was beyond unique, perhaps one of the most surreal sights in any zombie saga. 

Yeah, this season was full of fine, chaotic sights and schemes, elevating an already superb spinoff to a new, memorable level. 

I'm excited to see where Season 4 leads, confident it'll further entrench The Walking Dead as one of the best things ever to arise in modern zombie-dom. Let's face it, my friends. With Daryl Dixon, we've been dealt the cream of the post-apocalyptic crop. God bless its makers (and AMC) for implanting it.

WALKING DEAD'S DARYL DIXON #3: THE GOOD. THE BAD. THE UNDEAD.

AMC's Walking Dead spinoff, Daryl Dixon: Season 3, has begun, with an initial chapter that captures the grit, desperation and determination that defined its previous seasons.

The show's accent resumes a disguised, western drawl, which isn't uncommon for any Walking Dead incarnation (no matter the time or location). To press the matter, it constructs the Daryl/Carol, Norman Reedus/Melissa McBride, poster-front tease. That means Daryl Dixon: Season 3 lives up to its sharp, graphic hype. 

Season 3's opener transitions our dynamic duo beyond France into England, with the promise of Spain (the eventual hub of this season and where most spaghetti westerns were shot, albeit seasoned by an Italian touch), with aspirations to return to America. Along the way (in the mid-aforementioned realm), our heroes come upon Stephen Merchant's Scotch-sharing/sailboat-harboring Julian Chamberlain, "the last Englishman on Earth," whose chipper persona gives way to more questions, though also another chance at hope. (One may wonder why a bloke would be so congenial in light of such supreme danger, unless there's a catch? But then, sometimes people, even under doleful duress, can still be, well, nice. Regardless of his disposition or motive, Julian appears for only a brief time, but as to why, you'll just have to see for yourself.)  

As always, Daryl and Carol make due with what they're dealt, though it appears they'll assimilate in a Spanish, coastal town (hints of which we start to get about forty-five minutes in), featuring a medieval city/fortress (i.e., another variant of the the fabled Woodbury, no doubt), occupied by residents defined by their attitudes and customs. More high tensions will bleed from this (per a yet-to-come reveal, spurring conflict that appears to invoke The Magnificent 7, The Wild Bunch and Guns for San Sebastian), with walkers doing their ravenous thing whenever jolts are required. (FYI: The opener's British flesh-feasters are quite chilling, thanks to their by-chance, vegetated camouflage.) 

With this said, The Walking Dead wouldn't be The Walking Dead without its walkers (something that both devotees and detractors have acknowledged time and again), but it's the Daryl/Carol interaction that defines this grim melodrama (with all the profound and petty swings the characters can bring). For the sake of the couple's dark, human adventure, they count for a lot and damn well should. Daryl and Carol are the reason we watch. 

As one may infer, this season is off to a sturdy start, and when its seven episodes are through, I'll return with a hardy overview.  

I saw Daryl's Book of Carol (Season Concludes)

Daryl Dixon: The Book of Carol was good, damn good, in fact. The Shane aspect remained (and there was even a reversal variant to accompany it), but The Searchers component was its thrust, even with the concept already tested in the Maggie/Negan venture, Dead City. With this popular trope inserted, a resilient quest pushes The Book of Carol, in which our titular lady seeks our titular gent (ah, signs of Leia and Han when Star Wars was good).   

Between these themes, there's significant chemistry, thanks in no small part to the characters, which in turn succeed because of their performers: Norman Reedus, Melissa McBride, Louis Puech Squigliuzzi, Manash Dayal, Clemence Posey, Anne Charier, Adam Nagiatis, Lukerya Ilayshenko, Roman Levi, Joel de la Fuente, Eriq Ebouany, among many others. They team up, divide, console and fight, holding different views and motives throughout their perils, sometimes at the cost of their lives, but in a way, their combative positions are nowhere near as myopic or intolerant as what we find in our rueful, present day. 

The Book of Carol, moreover, rises to the occasion because it analyzes what results from such conflict: faith, cynicism, hope and deceit (the latter most evident when Carol lies to Ash, so he'll take her to France). Such ambivalent additives distinguish any life. Though Daryl Dixon (like any Walking Dead tributary) is fictional, it's also like any worth-while Star Trek adventure, swinging right back to earth, right into stark reality, after its allegory is completed. When one peels away its reflective layers, one sees nothing but sincerity. (Try to find that in Harry Potter or This is Us. Go on. I dare you.) 

It now appears (per handy gossip) that Daryl Dixon: Season 3 will take place in Spain, and perhaps that's where we'll receive a closer-to-the-bone confirmation as to whether Laurent is ethereal or just a pampered, run-of-the-mill kid as he resides with his new, surrogate dad. Whatever happens, it's certain to be historic, but then when all is said and done, what stretch of The Walking Dead hasn't been?