Fargo: Gus and Hubris

Last month I had a Twitter exchange about the television series Fargo. A critic lamented that there was no story arc for Molly Solverson. I agreed and pointed out that, by contrast, Gus Grimly, did arc. The critic replied, yes, but his metamorphosis was an unfortunate, since Gus ultimately risked lives to avenge his own manhood. The comment surprised me, as it was so far from my own reading of Gus that I didn’t know this viewpoint existed. I started counting off all of the reasons I disagreed and decided to capture them here.

In the end of the series, when Gus tracked killer Lorne Malvo on his own and cornered him without backup, I can’t argue that his acts were reckless and endangered others. However, I don’t think he was motivated by wounded pride. In fact, while the nebbish Lester Nygaard fairly exuded errant ego, I never got that vibe from Gus.

In the beginning, when Officer Gus Grimly first encounters Malvo, the personification of true evil, during a routine traffic stop, we see him immediately vulnerable. A frightened Gus backs down and allows Lorne to drive away. Gus’ shame was palpable, but his concern was for the people he’d placed in harm’s way to protect his own family. He was cursing his cowardice each time Lorne claimed a new victim, not nursing a personal sense of indignation.

Once Gus met Molly, he didn’t try to play hero for her. Instead, he presented his daughter, shared the fact that he was a widower and unabashedly allowed Molly to see why he was scared to die and how deeply Greta would be scarred if she lost him. He didn’t put on a brave front. Any inclination that he might have had to do so, disappeared completely once he accidentally shot Molly during a shootout.

He was consumed with guilt, shame and regret as he sat by her hospital bed. Rather than thinking that his humiliation had to be reversed, he seemed to acknowledge that he risked her life by continuing in a job that he was not qualified to hold. He reacted with humility, not ego. He compared his own panicked actions to Molly’s calm courage and realized he had no right to be her partner. He didn’t mind being weak. He minded being her weak link. Her efforts couldn’t bring Lorne Malvo or anyone else to justice, if he continued to drag her down.

The next thing we know, Gus has retired from the police force and is happily delivering mail. He had no problem with his job as postman, no “this role is beneath me” demeanor. He was not brooding over his own incompetence or casting insecure looks at Molly and Greta. He was simply content. Molly continued on at the police force, working on establishing the tie between Lester and Lorne. Gus, now her supportive husband, listened when she needed a sounding board, but otherwise slept peacefully at night. She was the one plagued with insomnia. He wasn’t tormented with personal dissatisfaction or inferiority.

When the FBI moved in and bestowed accolades on Molly, it was her new supervisor, Oswalt, who felt usurped. Never Gus.

That brings us to the final showdown. Yes, Gus asks Molly to stay at the police station and not join in the hunt for Lorne Malvo. Indeed, he was a hypocrite. He told her that Greta couldn’t lose anyone else, yet he went after Lorne himself, without telling anyone or calling any of the nearby law enforcement agents. Still, I don’t see his as a macho display of “I got this.” If anything, I think he acted, because he felt he was the most expendable one. He didn’t think he was more of an equal for Lorne than his wife. He thought, if Lorne killed him, rather than pregnant Molly, the loss would be less for Lou, for Greta and for the citizens Molly protected.

Contrast, Gus to Lester, who feeling cocky, confronted Malvo in an elevator, a stunt that cost the other occupants their lives. A year passed and Lester, newly confident, made a move because he felt he was now a match for Malvo. A year passed and Gus, still frightened, made a move, because he thought more lives would be lost if he didn’t. He was motivated by desperation, because the stakes were higher than they had been, which may be why he succeeded where Lester failed. It was not pride that pushed Gus, but concern for strangers stalked by Malvo after Gus let him go the first time and for loved ones that now included an unborn child.

Speaking of that pregnancy, if Molly hadn’t been pregnant – even if she had been less pregnant – I don’t think Gus would have made the same choice. He possessed no patronizing “this is not a woman’s place” attitude. Instead, he accepted that the police force was not his place. That’s why he left it. When Molly asked him out on their first date, because he was too shy to initiate the romance, he was grateful, not insulted. At no time in the series did he exhibit, “I’m the one who wears the pants, here” reflexes. Therefore, in the context of everything else we’ve learned about Gus, when he takes unreasoned action in the end, I might see his conduct as misguided, but I can’t view it as either chauvinistic or arrogant.

If Molly hadn’t been waddling pregnant, if Lou Solverson hadn’t been old, if the other police officers hadn’t been Keystone Cops, I believe Gus would have been content to let them apprehend Malvo, while he sorted Priority Mail, away from the action. He intervened, because Molly couldn’t physically do the job, so close to her delivery date. Mentally, he knew there was no one more capable than she.

Gus confronted Malvo and won. But did the victory bring him triumph, as much as a strong sense of relief? He tells Lorne he knows what the answer to the puzzle is. Malvo inquires, “what?” Gus fires. To me that non-answer said, “I don’t need to prove who’s smartest or strongest. I don’t need to excel in a battle of wits. I can simply remove the threat you pose.” Back at home, Gus tells Molly and Greta that they’re going to give him an award for bravery, but concedes that Molly deserves it. I don’t take it as false modesty on Gus’ part. Molly acted bravely. She stepped forward. He acted more out of need, because there was no one else.

I think the audience enjoyed having the invincible, irreverent and fearless Malvo brought down by the quivering underdog. That satisfied our rooting interest. In that sense, the finale served the plot, more than it did Gus, personally. When people say the ending reinforced patriarchal values, I just cannot agree. How does the last 5 minutes of a mini-series erase the 10 hours that preceded it? Molly’s strength was at the core of Fargo and it never faltered. If she didn’t strike the blow that killed Lorne, she still put the wheels in place for it to happen. Her investigation brought his involvement to light, despite Lester’s lies.

For me, the lesson was that Malvo’s true nemesis was someone he never saw coming. Molly tracked his every move and the fact that he was unaware of that never made her work any less instrumental in bringing him down. In that sense, you can compare her to one of Lorne Malvo’s more devious ploys: when he trussed and taped up his victim, strapped him to a shotgun and then (remotely) pulled the trigger, causing the police outside to blast the hapless shooter to smithereens. Lorne murdered that guy, whether or not he shot the fatal bullets. Similarly, Molly was ultimately responsible for Lorne’s demise, even if Gus was behind the gun. And for all the warriors out there, Molly didn’t back down. She initially told Gus she wouldn’t join in the chase, but eventually she did leave the police station. Gus’ admonitions aside, she would have gone after Malvo if she’d only known where he was, which is, I suppose, why Gus didn’t tell her.

On Twitter, the Fargo critic joked that her view of Gus was colored by the fact that he got Key and Peele killed. Fair enough, but c’mon. They sat oblivious in their car while Malvo killed an entire building full of people a few feet away. Given their cerebral shortcomings, they weren’t going to come out of this thing alive no matter what.

There was no climax where Molly confronted Malvo. However, an unseen adversary is not an ineffective one and Molly was seen, by the audience, anyway. Her wisdom, her compassion, her resolve were all on display throughout. The story is in the details, not the final bullet. Fargo turned the High Noon cliché on its ear. Molly didn’t have to kill Lorne to play the Gary Cooper role and the fact that Gus did kill him doesn’t miraculously convert a simple mailman into the marshal of Hadleyville. No, Gus is still Amy, the marshal’s wife. If the ending changed his part in the viewer’s mind, maybe it has more to do with their “shoot ‘em out” expectations than Gus’ perceived sexism. To the gunman goes the spoils? That’s a takeaway that has little to do with the plot’s actual message. Gus received an award and returned to the USPS. Molly received the permanent job promotion to Chief of Police. The dead chief had always wanted her to replace him. Her surviving colleagues finally realized that she was the only one who could. For me, this was never patriarchy at play.

Upon reflection, maybe a character doesn't need to arc, if she starts out strong and just stays that way.