‘Reservation Dogs’ Season 2: Running Toward Home – The New York Times | Omd Cialis

Wanting to escape your hometown is every young person’s birthright. In America, it’s ingrained into popular culture to raise poles and take to the streets – it’s called “Go West, Young Man”; It’s a text by Bruce Springsteen.

For some Americans, however—like the four teenagers on an Oklahoma reservation in FX’s terrific coming-of-age comedy Reservation Dogs—the notion of home, who owns it, and who belongs is more complicated. The romance of the street, after all, is tied to a history in which North America was viewed as a frontier. When your ancestors lived in a place that others saw as a blank space to fill in for themselves, this American myth applies a little differently.

The journey from home and the train there are the dynamics that power Reservation Dogs, which emerged last year as one of television’s liveliest specially drawn comedies. The great first season focused on the urge to get away; the second, returning to Hulu on Wednesday, is about what it takes to rediscover home.

The pilot episode bursts onto your screen as if someone is watching it. Her self-proclaimed gang of four (the show’s title comes from their nickname, a nod to Quentin Tarantino’s film Reservoir Dogs) are introduced in the middle of a snack-chip truck. Their plan is to raise money, travel to California and leave behind the reservation they blame for the suicide of their friend Daniel (Dalton Cramer).

As with many impromptu plans, this takes a few twists and turns, and the season fleshes out the kids in a laid-back, observational character play. Elora (Devery Jacobs) is a walking heartache who takes Daniel’s loss particularly hard (we eventually learn that it was she who found his body). Bear (D’Pharoah Woon-A-Tai) is a lanky boy who stumbles onto being the man he appears to be on the outside. Cheese (Lane Factor) is dry and reflective; Willie Jack (an outright winner, Paulina Alexis) has an amazingly snotty mouth and a loyal heart.

For them, California is less a concrete destination than an idea, a placeholder for “not here”. But “Reservation Dogs” is deeply in touch with the feeling and the taste of the here that it represents.

Producers, Sterlin Harjo and Taika Waititi, produced a Native American story shot on location in Oklahoma with the crisp structure of great regional television. (It’s both a welcome example of how television pays attention to rural life and a reminder that “rural” is not synonymous with “white.”) It’s steeped in lore, way of life, and pop history; A first-season episode explores the myth of the avenging deer lady and the career of the ’70s Native American band Redbone.

Like “Atlanta,” another magical realism comedy from FX, “Reservation Dogs” has a heartfelt irreverence and dislike of romantic clichés. Bear is visited by the spirit of a Lakota warrior (Dallas Goldtooth) who was at the Battle of Little Big Horn – but not in it because he died when his horse crashed into a gopher hole – and who nuggets in a stream of wisdom conveys bro-speak. In a new episode, he solemnly tells Bear, “Carry on my wayward son, there will be peace when you’re done,” a blessing from classic rock band Kansas.

The eight-episode first season goes nowhere blissfully fast, building the world and cast of local eccentrics. Zahn McClarnon, who hosted AMC crime drama Dark Winds, gives a tongue-in-cheek portrayal as Big, a hapless tribal cop with a penchant for weird insight; An episode, set in the Indian Health Service clinic, sketches the reserve’s suffering and support systems in miniature.

As in so many teen romances, the things the dogs hate about their home (the isolation, the money problems, the bad memories) give you access to the things they, admit it or not, love about it (the relationships, the interdependence, the better memories).

One by one, the friends get cold feet as they leave, and Elora makes her way to California alone, taking her grandmother’s car with her die-hard enemy Jackie (Elva Guerra, also from Dark Winds). She’s free at last, but the further west they travel, the more unbound she seems. Meanwhile, her friends try to find ways to make a home for themselves at home, make amends for the past, and process Daniel’s loss.

The new season moves a few notches closer to the dramatic side of the dramedy, but there’s still plenty of laid-back humor. In the second episode, Willie Jack and Cheese turn to Uncle Brownie (Gary Farmer), an elder who hands out advice and decades-old weed, for help lifting a curse. He stumbles through a ceremony that he feels must end with “an old song.” He pauses and conjures up music from within – “Free Fallin'” by Tom Petty. (“It’s like 30 years. That’s old!”)

The wondrous and the mundane always collide in Reservation Dogs. Jackie receives a prophecy in the form of a memory card from a “medicine man” fortune teller at a gas station gift shop. (“You must turn from the path you are on.”) Bear’s spirit guide visits Uncle Brownie, who performed a ritual to ward off a tornado in the season one finale and now believes he is a holy man. The ghost says this is nonsense. “He shot a storm,” he says, but “anybody can do whatever.”

Like the Ghost, Reservation Dogs believes each of its characters is capable of magic, not just the literal, meteorological kind. Everyone, even a failure, has power and responsibility as part of a larger community. You can get prophecy from a drunk sitting at a bar, or wisdom from a guy getting his hair cut on the porch.

You can also sometimes catch a glimpse of enlightenment while completing a day’s work. In the new season, Bear takes a construction job and finds himself alongside Daniel’s father, Danny (Michael Spears), bringing back uncomfortable memories for both of them. Bear almost falls off a roof trying to grab some loose shingles, but Danny catches him. “First rule of roofing,” says Danny. “Don’t chase him if he’s already falling.” It’s a lesson Bear and all his friends are trying to learn: how to know what to let go of and how to save what’s important.

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