The Americans Thread: Welcome To The Machine

The Americans is gaining momentum as the season comes to a close. There are only 3 episodes left after Darkroom and I expect a helluva ride since it’s one of the best episodes thus far this season.

The post title comes from Philip’s EST seminar. The bullgoose EST-hole tells them that “we’re all machines” whose life consists of “stimulus and response.” Speak for yourself EST-hole. It does, however, seem to fit the latest development in the Paige saga as she inches closer to becoming a spy. Welcome to the machine, Paige.

More details on that after the spoiler break, but first some Pink Floyd:

I’m not going to try to cover everything this week. Instead, I’ll focus like a laser on the most important aspects of episode 10.

Dog Shit In Malaka: Sorry for that bad pun but I cannot help myself.  I just lied. I’m an unrepentant punster but you knew that already. If not, I have a used Confederate monument to sell you.

Tuan has arranged for Pascha to be bullied so he and mama Morozova will flee lockers full of dog shit. Oddly enough, Alexei Morozov has responded to his son’s crisis by acting like a human being instead of a raging, gaping asshole. He’s even worried about Pascha: he says that the kid is acting like “dog beat with stick.”

There’s a great scene between Elizabeth and Morozova wherein the latter tells her of the bullying and confesses her affair with the “company” man. Morozova feels guilty about the hanky panky because of her husband’s recent solicitude. Elizabeth, of course, lets the center know about this. Morozova is approached on the street by Oleg’s ex-squeeze, Tatiana. She informs Morozova that they’ll be welcome to return to Mother Russia. Any information to the contrary is Western propaganda. Yeah, right. The KGB just wants her to keep bonking the American spook so they can compromise him.

One thing about Irina Dvoronenko who plays Morozova. They’ve frumped her up so much that I had no idea that she was a prima ballerina. I learned that in an article in the failing New York Times. While we’re on that subject, here’s some Van Morrison for your listening pleasure:

The Diary Of Pastor Tim: I almost called him Padre Tim since he may be South America bound but we’ll get back to that in a minute.

Paige’s mixed feelings about Pastor Tim take a dramatic turn for the worse. She’s been reading his diary again. She learns that he thinks she’s one of the most damaged and abused kids he’s ever met. Here are some diary passages courtesy of Vulture:

“Are they monsters? I don’t know. But what they did to their daughter I’d have to call monstrous. I’ve seen sexual abuse, I’ve seen affairs, but nothing I’ve seen compares to what P.J. has been through.”

“There’s a severe psychic injury. Faith may help but I fear the damage is done.”

“How can she trust anyone ever again? She may never understand the difference between truth and …”

“I’m afraid for this girl. She may not even realize how much she’s suffering.”

That’s some serious shit, man. We know about these passages because Paige photographed the diary like a good junior spy. Philip and Elizabeth are alternately appalled and fascinated. Elizabeth looked prepared to whack Pastor Tim. Philip will inevitably blame himself as is his wont. He’s also worried about Stan Beeman becoming “like Martha.”

They Jennings have a plan for Pastor Tim. The KGB will line up a do-gooder job for him away from the Washington area; preferably south of the equator. In short, they’ll have someone else make Pastor Tim an offer he cannot refuse. Hopefully, Luca Brasi won’t be there holding a gun to his curly blonde locks. It beats the hell out of having him whacked. Who the hell wants to listen to Alice whine, after all?

Finally, Philip and Elizabeth were married by Father Spook at the warehouse they use for spy shit. It appeared to be the short Orthodox wedding ceremony; otherwise it would still be going on.

The episode concludes with Philip, Elizabeth, and Paige in the darkroom with Slice Of Life by Bauhaus as the soundtrack. We’ll finish the same way:

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