I should have had more faith. (Ten lashes with a wet lagniard for me!) As soon as the opening teaser ended, I knew there would be more to this episode than sentimental epigrams on virtue, honor, and The American Way. First, there was Fraser's tactical white-gloved finger switch. OMG, call the Yukon Gazette (or the Chicago Guardian): Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP, lied!! OK, so maybe "lied" is too strong -- but even a white(gloved) lie is an extraordinary event for OFM. And then there were Ray's observations about the flooded basement, leaky roof, and rotting floorboards -- his cynical pragmatism pointing out the flaws in Fraser's plan, the romantic, idealistic inefficiency of which is quickly revealed when the tenants are served with their notices of rent increase. The real flaw in Fraser's approach, though, is the way his clean-up tactics serve only to gloss over the real problems -- it is as if Fraser has bought into the American emphasis on image over reality. If it looks good, it must be good .
. . not. In the final scene this becomes quite clear, when Taylor points out that the "image" of popular support provided by Ray's cash and Mackenzie's camera will ultimately prove useless, once the "reality" of the case is exposed by the crucible of the courts. For once, Ray is right, and Fraser is wrong. WOW.
(Of course, before OFM loses all credibility -- AS IF -- we have the garage scene, in which Fraser and Ray's positions are reversed: it is Fraser who points out the very real flaws in the new Riv, while Ray sees only the "image" of the Riv in the new paint job.)
What the opening teaser accomplishes is to set Fraser up as the classic Capra hero: his goodness at this point is as naive and incompetent as Jeff Smith's in Washington or George Bailey's in Potter's office, and like them he must undergo a test of his convictions, a trial of his ideals (like his grandmother's trial, literally, by fire) in order to come out on the other side as the hero of the common man. Fraser suffers the same isolation as Jeff Smith when those who should support him (the other tenants) desert him, and he suffers the same loss of the comforts of home as George Bailey when his lights, heat, gas, and water are turned off and his apartment is wrecked. OFM must recognize the futility of fighting TPTB and yet be willing to stand up against them anyway. Capra's heroes do not win the war against the Potters and Taylors of his film world -- they win but a single battle, just as Fraser's filibuster, coupled with Dennis's lease, gains the tenants only a four-year reprieve from the Potters & Taylors of the DS world. Fraser must also learn that, despite the title of the episode, it does take more than one good man to bring about change -- that it is only when pragmatism is wedded with, or perhaps inspired by idealism that justice can be served. Jeff Smith had Saunders, and George Bailey had Clarence; Fraser has Ray (and his cash), Mackenzie (and her camera), and Dennis (and his lease).
"One Good Man" avoids another pitfall of Capra take-offs: the romanticizing of the masses. Despite the fact that Capra is often designated a populist, even a socialist, his films do not laud the mind of the masses, at least not the mobs that buy the media lies about Smith in MSGTW or the crowds that run on the bank in IAWL. The crowd in a Capra film is all too willing to give up its liberty, its dignity, and its rights, something DS's GameBoy-playing, pill-popping Potter mistakes as cowardice: "You ask that same man to take a gamble, to risk everything he has, even if the prize was the Fountain of Youth itself, he'd sooner roll over in the ditch than take that chance." But it isn't so much fear as futility that sends the crowd of Fraser's neighbors running for the exit doors; as Mr. Mustafi says, "Some things you can fix. Some things, maybe you shouldn't try." Mr. Mustafi is right in another way, too, when he tells Fraser that "I'm not like you." For in the end, it is not the masses that are celebrated in either Capra's films or this episode of Due South, but the INDIVIDUAL. The "one good man" of the title could be any man, but not all men: it could be a handsome Mountie saying "no" to a rich and powerful city councilwoman, or it could be a sleazy superintendent saying "no" to his rich and powerful boss. It could even be a poor Jewish carpenter saying "no" to a group of rich and powerful Pharisees . . .
There are a number of episodes in which Fraser is cast in a messianic role, but this one is my favorite. It's also a good example of why I think it was a mistake to re-locate him in Seasons 3/4 to the Canadian consulate. Some of the best stories of Seasons 1 and 2 emerged out of Fraser's interaction with his neighbors, his residence in the apartment acting as the equivalent of the missionary who lives in the village as one of the people rather than holes up within the walls of the mission. By isolating Fraser within the walls of the consulate, the writers lost a whole dimension of his character: Fraser as Neighbor. And in a show that so passionately preaches the Golden Rule, this is no mean loss.
In the end, though, I think "One Good Man" is about something quite different: the power of stories. As Mackenzie King points out, "movies are dangerous" -- mainly for the way they inspire people. Certainly, the Capra movies are the stories recalled the most in this episode, but there are others as well. There's the story that Mackenzie will write about the tenants' troubles to inspire public support. There's the way Taylor uses the story of "Goldilocks and the Three Bears" to inspire Dennis to intimidate the tenants (only to have Dennis re-cast the principals and upend the story's moral in the final scene). There's the story of Ray's Riv and how it inspires memories of his marriage. AND there's the story of Fraser's grandmother, which inspires the councilwoman (who could be his grandmother) to pour him a glass of water that will save his throat the way the river water saved the children of the Inuit village.
Of course, this review would not be complete without a rehash of the Fun Fraser moments of the episode: his inability to lodge a dispute at City Hall ("I won't have to m-make a fuss, will I?" he stutters -- LOL!), his impatience with Dief ("You're an arctic wolf, for God's sake," he grumbles -- LOL!!), his befuddlement over Mackenzie King ("The woman is completely irrational," he mutters -- LOL!!!), and -- my personal favorite -- his climb up the walls of City Hall (and how symbolic is THAT!!). The comic timing of this scene is just brilliant. "Do I expect too much of people, Ray?" Fraser asks in the most ordinary of tones, while still off camera. "Well," Ray says, sighing, "Take our climbing up the side of this building . . ." and the two of them come into view and boggle us with the dramatic irony of such casual conversation in such a precarious position. And then, "OK," Fraser says -- and kudos to PG for the way he always manages to just slightly misuse "OK," an Americanism that Fraser just can't quite master . . .
I could go on re-living the scene with this review, but I think I'll just go watch it instead! Care to join me? *G*
Oh, and thank you kindly for listening!