The Pacific, where the sun never shines, and if it does, it's only to highlight the misery, up to 115°. Yes, WWII in the Pacific was undoubtedly a hellscape, but must the viewer be so relentlessly dragged through the mud, without even the courtesy of a scenic reprieve? Unfortunately, the show's commitment to bleakness is matched only by its insistence on a disjointed, choppy narrative that leaves us floundering between three stoic characters, none of whom seem overly concerned with engaging the audience.
The decision to split focus among this trio was... brave, I suppose. It's not every day that a show chooses to feature three near-identical, brooding, silent types who each take a turn at staring solemnly into the abyss. A variety of voices? Nah, better to triple down on monosyllabic soldiers and their tortured expressions.
Leckie, of course, wins the award for most unlikable, followed closely by Gene "Sledgehammer" - because nothing says battle-hardened soldier like a nickname you'd expect to find on a suburban garage band drummer. Sledge offers a touch more sympathy than Leckie, but he's also prone to dramatic pauses, which rival the silence of outer space. If only they'd given more screen time to Snafu. Sure, he's terrifying, but at least he's terrifying with flair!
In this particular episode, we remain mired in the hellscape of Peleliu, where Gene's comrades fall faster than the show's pacing. Naturally, the trauma is starting to get to him, which brings us back to Leckie and his prior breakdown. Not that anyone was particularly interested in it the first time.
Meanwhile, Basilone is off on his promotional tour in the U. S., looking miserable but, in keeping with the show's theme, saying very little about it. Silent suffering is, after all, the order of the day in The Pacific.
