Season 4, Episode 10: ‘410 Gone’
And now, a breather.
After a series of white-knuckle episodes that built to Elliot and Darlene’s successful hack of the world’s most powerful people, “Mr. Robot” finally took a little time off from the thrill-a-minute stuff. For all its low-key revelations and surprise returns, this week’s episode was really about two people, Darlene Alderson and Dom DiPierro. Can these two crazy kids from opposite sides of the law-enforcement tracks put aside their differences and ride off into the sunset together?
Well, no, apparently. But we’ll get to that.
The episode begins with Dom in the hospital, recuperating from the stab wound she received from her chatty (and now deceased) Dark Army handler, Janice. Elliot and Darlene’s hack of the Deus Group is all over the TV news, as is their doxxing of its leader, Minister Zhang, now revealed to be the Dark Army’s commander, Whiterose. If this is fsociety’s final hack, it’s a grand finale indeed.
You wouldn’t know it from looking at Dom, though, who seems as miserable as ever. Even after she ignores her doctors and risks upsetting her supervisors at the F.B.I. by leaving the hospital against medical advice, she seems ready to fall back into her old patterns of fretting about her job and her family, her Alexa unit her only company.
Darlene isn’t having it. “This is emptiness,” she says of Dom’s lifestyle, smashing her Alexa to pieces for good measure. It’s a symbolic gesture — Dom can always just order another Alexa — but it appears to do the trick.
Soon this odd couple of women is on the road to Boston to catch a flight out of the country. They’re accompanied by Leon, the garrulous Dark Army assassin turned gun for hire. When he isn’t talking up the talents of Sydney Pollack and Kurt Vonnegut, he explains that they’re taking “the scenic route” to Massachusetts because Connecticut, the most direct path, is filled with the kind of rich white people around whom Dark Army agents flock. Best to avoid the whole area.
Notably absent from the journey: Elliot. Honoring his agreement with Phillip Price, he is staying behind to destroy Whiterose’s top secret project in Washington Township, the construction of which is how Elliot’s vendetta against E Corp and its shadowy backers began.
But as they say their goodbyes, Elliot gives Darlene the go-ahead to initiate the final stage of their Deus Group hack: redistributing the stolen wealth of those 1 percenters to everyone with an E Coin wallet — which, thanks to the conglomerate’s efforts, is pretty much everybody.
The execution of this final hack at a highway rest stop is a pointedly joyous scene given the show’s usual somber tone. Strangers, who at first look like indistinguishable ants thanks to the striking overhead shots, grin and laugh like kids on Christmas morning. Darlene, who quiets Dom’s worries with a kiss, hoots and hollers, unafraid of the attentions she is attracting. She just pulled off “the greatest redistribution of wealth in history,” after all. Let them stare.
Matters grow more complicated, unfortunately, when the two reach the airport. In what appears to be a total coincidence, Dom bumps into Irving, the talkative Dark Army minion — is there any other kind? — played by Bobby Cannavale, who dominated much of the third season’s action. Turns out the novel we saw him working on is a big success, and he simply happens to be on his book tour when Dom stumbles into him.
In between autographing a copy of his book for her and reminiscing about how much fun it was to chop up her old boss Agent Santiago with an ax, Irving gives her the Dark Army skinny: The group is no longer interested in her or Darlene.
That means they don’t have to flee the country under assumed names and fly to Budapest, the destination Darlene picked because her slain boyfriend, Cisco, always wanted to go there. Dom dutifully informs Darlene of this before backing out of the trip, citing her responsibilities to her family and her job. It doesn’t matter that her family is in a safe house and her job has placed her on administrative leave, as Darlene points out — she just can’t walk away from it all.
So Dom and Darlene say goodbye … for a minute, anyway.
The first sign that something big is potentially about to happen is the music. Suddenly the show drops the rapturous opening hook from the Carly Rae Jepsen song “Run Away With Me.”
As the song plays, Darlene hides in an airport restroom, in the grips of a panic attack now that Dom has left her. Dom, meanwhile, seems confident in her decision — until she reaches the exit.
Then, as the song soars, Dom sprints back to the gate where their flight is scheduled to take off. The tension is almost unbearable, but in a good way this time, as if Sam Esmail were employing all his skills as a thriller director to the romance genre instead.
But it’s a fake-out. Carly Rae Jepsen can plead all she wants, but the couple does not run away together: Dom gets on board the flight only to discover that Darlene isn’t there; Darlene we see pulling herself together in the restroom — she decided not to fly away at all, it seems. Star-crossed lovers, am I right?
But there’s one thing I can’t quite figure out: the episode’s final shot. After numerous references to her insomnia, we finally see Dom fast asleep on the plane, Darlene’s empty seat next to her.
Why does Dom finally sleep the sleep of the just at this moment? Didn’t she run back to the plane because she wanted to reunite with Darlene? If all she wanted to do was break free of her responsibilities — to her family, to her job, even to Darlene — then wouldn’t she have done something else, considering she believed Darlene was on the plane?
At the very least, the music supervisor owes me an apology for getting my hopes up with that Jepsen song. But perhaps that disappointment was the point. As they used to say on “Game of Thrones,” life is not a song.
Am I the only person who thinks the alias on Dom’s fake passport, “Jackie Doublehorn,” is an homage to Jackie Treehorn, the Ben Gazzara character from “The Big Lebowski”?
The episode’s funniest moment comes early: Dom, stranded at the exit of the hospital because no one is there to pick her up, her wheelchair repeatedly triggering the creaky automatic sliding doors. The “Curb Your Enthusiasm” music wouldn’t have sounded out of place.
Sahred From Source link Arts