Guys, hold on. I need a minute.
I…
And the…
I can’t.
This episode of Fargo was too much to handle. So much that it took me an hour just to find those gifs and compose myself enough to decide how I’d even BEGIN this recap. So I’m going to take my time with this one. Even though this episode was a half hour shorter than its predecessors, there was just so much to process. So much to praise. And so much to just scratch your head at in honest speculation that Noah Hawley is high out of his mind on some crude polluted crack you only find in Eastern Europe. Seriously dude? What the shit is this. A for-real UFO? I’m not even sure I’m mad. What am I? What are these emotions? I’m just a little baby, Fargo!
So whatever, there’s not much to say for a show that speaks for itself, especially in one of these penultimate episodes that knocks you on your ass and kind of hijacks your brain on the way to work the next morning. I call it Game of Thronesing. Seriously, I was dreaming about Minnesota accents and guns and Kirsten Dunst’s high-waisted powder blue slacks all last night.
This show has a tremendous amount of respect for its own mythology, and the Massacre at Sioux Falls is an event we’ve been anticipating since Season 1, so it seemed fitting that this episode broke the mold and told the prologue from a story-book perspective. Reading from The History of True Crime in the Mid West, our narrator (British Lester Nygaard! we missed u martin! luv u boo) sets the stage for the Massacre just as this season has.
What started as a bungled shake-down at a Waffle Hut turned into a blood bath across Minnesota, North Dakota, and South Dakota, with two unassuming simpletons in the middle of it all. The pages of True Crime catch up with us, and we’re back at the Rushmore General Store.