Watching Kings since its end-of-the-line banishment to Saturday night has been a lesson. For one thing, I'm late again; I'm hardly the most hardcore viewer in our little TV club famalam, but this has been a definite reminder of why prime-time Saturday is referred to as television's great burial ground. For another, viewing the show knowing that it's cancelled has thrown a chilly sheet of cold-water fatalism over it; no matter how good it gets — and it's gotten quite good indeed — it's hard to get too excited over something you know is going nowhere. In fact, it almost leaves you wishing Kings had sucked for its final installments; that way, it wouldn't be so frustrating that there's no more of it.
That's the essential tragedy about serial storytelling in general, and American television in particular, though. A novel or a movie may be good, or it may be bad, but at least it ends. A television show always runs the risk of being canceled before it has a chance to tell its story; while a show that outstays its welcome and lasts a season or two longer than it should may be annoying, one that simply vanishes in mid-story because it can't make the ratings is downright maddening. And in this regard, Kings has been particularly difficult to watch, because it stars Ian McShane, who gave such a hypnotic performance in Deadwood — another show that ended at least one season too soon, thanks in part to poor ratings.
So much for the saddest words of tongue or pen, though. Kings is gone, and it's very likely never coming back. Its creators did a very surprising and often rewarding thing, though, by convincing a major network to air show with so many intriguing — and downright uncommercial — ideas. If this is the last of what they left us, let's make the most of it.
"The New King, Part 2" picks up after a hell of a tense cliffhanger last week; after old Silas went down in a hail of bullets, half the kingdom was set to step into his royal brogans, and the other half was set to oppose them. It turned out there was life in the old bear yet, though, and that's where the series finale (or season finale, depending on how hopeful you are) picks up. In order to drum up support for his profitable war, William Cross is spreading propaganda that the 'assassination' of King Silas is the fault of Gath; meanwhile, Prince Jack's loyalists are turning up dead and he knows who's behind it. "My father is still alive, and his teeth are sharp," he says nervously, while Cross advices him to grow some stones and take what has been so clearly given to him. In answer, Silas' voice is broadcast on shortwave radio, assuring the nation he is still alive and reminding its citizens repeatedly that he is the one chosen by them and by God to rule Gilboa. He ends with a chilling threat: "Like an earthquake, I will come."
Jack laments that after all these years of wishing that he would have a chance to rule the country, now that it's happening, he feels bereft, because "He" is not there to tell Jack what to do. Jack is speaking of God, of course — this entire episode hammers effectively on the theme established in Episode 1 that, to these people, God is not an abstraction, but a living entity who gives favor, who makes decision, who can be allied or opposed — but there's a nice ambiguity in that you can read the scene as if he's referring to Silas. Reverend Samuels says that God does not take counsel with sinners; Jack insists that if he's allowed to become king, he can undo all the evil that's been done, but Samuels assures him he'll never have that chance.
This fatalistic prophecy seems to make Jack — who, really, is the tragic hero of Season 1 — finally resign himself. The next time we see him, he's made a decision about what kind of king he'll really be: the first minister to raise an objection to the legitimacy of his rule is rewarded with a bullet in the back of the head. Jack threatens the same for his mother and sister, but loses his nerve at the last moment when Michelle stands up to him in full view of the cabinet — a move which infuriates her mother, who says she has to stay alive because of the child she carries.
In their boondocks hideaway, Silas and David gravely discuss strategy over glasses of the hard stuff. Both are resigned to the fact that they'll likely be killed when they make their move against Cross and Jack; David insists that if he does live through the day, he knows Silas too well to stand by his side any further, and should victory be theirs, he's done with the royal family and its machinations. Silas, meanwhile, doesn't find it miracle enough that he's still alive; he's convinced that God has stopped speaking to him, stopped dabbling in "the back-and-forthings of we tiny men". He offers God some booze, and dares him to show his power by doing what a breeze or a toddler could do and tip over the glass. Turning away, he sighs, "I guess we're on our own"; we, of course, see the glass on the floor seconds later.
Things are happening apace back at the palace; the crown has disappeared, but Cross ensures Jack he can be be inaugurated with a duplicate — or, as Jack thinks of it, a false crown. Rev. Samuels has deserted the premises and refuses to give the benediction, so Cross — still confident, but with signs of nerves beginning to show — sends soldiers to "fulfill his expectations" and murder the good Reverend. Jack steps outside and has visions of the cheering, manic crowds at his father's coronation; at his own, there are merely grim-faced guards and soldiers.
Samuels, as the benediction progresses without him, gives a touching confession before God; echoing the language of the benediction, he shakes with emotion while running down a list of his sins, and begs only to live long enough to see his wrongs righted. It doesn't seem like that will happen, though, as he's gunned down by Cross' loyalists.