The Tick Brings Superheroes Down to Earth in Its Season One Finale
(Episodes 1.11 and 1.12)
Photo: Amazon Prime Video
As we dive into the final two episodes of The Tick’s first season, it’s impossible not to think of one thing and one thing only: The finale’s title — “The End of the Beginning (Of the Start of the Dawn of the Age of Superheroes)” — looks like some of your humble reviewer’s multi-clause sentences. These bookend-defining titles are a perfect takedown of the overly epic superhero narratives inflating the DCEU and MCU, but this series’ zingers need a bit more substance behind them. The substance it doesn have, however, is front, naked, and center as we get back into it.
Mid-showdown and with Very Large Man heading towards the city, The Tick is in the heat of its various moments. Superian (Brendan Hines) is wandering around the apartment, put into a heavily-fevered flu-like state thanks to the powdered bismuth covering The Tick (Peter Serafinowicz) after his escapades blowing stuff up in the pilot. While Tick faces full-body suction to recover all of the element, your mind may begin to wander. Hey, Tinfoil Kevin’s (Devin Ratray) office is a robot head that slowly becomes their head-quarters.
Thankfully, even when things are slow, there’re plenty of small jokes to suss out from the nerdy writers room—things like the way Hines squints and warbles around Arthur (Griffin Newman), Dr. Karamazov (John Pirkis), and the apartment-invading Goat (Kahlil Ashanti) as best he can while the plot is unfurling. His outward physical perfection and inward, well, uselessness is another great variation on The Tick’s main joke: His literalism—at the root of much of the show’s humor—undermines everything, including his invulnerability. The ridiculous plotting, especially Karamazov’s mad science, whizzes over everyone’s antennae but The Tick’s, who just says, “Snazzy, let’s do that!”
This mad science—about shrinking the VLM instead of allowing The Terror (Jackie Earle Haley) to detonate the bismuth-filled, skyscraping dad bod in a Superian-killing radiation-filled explosion—is a ridiculously convoluted and lightly explained plan. Which actually works out fine, enjoyment-wise. No need to think too hard on mad science. Just call it mad and walk away to more interesting things, like the villains behind it.
The seductive femme fatale angle for Miss Lint (Yara Martinez) brings out so much from Overkill (Scott Speiser), allowing for a series of jokes equating vendettas and crushes—especially now that it’s clear which is the villainous, leather-up dom and which is the surprisingly rugged (and equally leathered-up) sub in this relationship. There’s a cute bit about their shared eye disfigurations and facial scars, followed by less cute electric BDSM (now there’s a band name), but it all leads up to Lint’s power play against The Terror, whom it’s been clear she’s more competent than since day one.
The Terror, big idea guy that he is, just recently realized he doesn’t know where Superian is. He, naturally, drums out his frustration. Then he decides, hell, I know Arthur’s full name, I bet I could get to his family. Family like Dot (Valorie Curry). Wait, where’s Dot again?
Oh yeah, she’s dicking around by Overkill. She rescues Overkill from his unhealthy relationship and his imprisonment, proving that she is useful, damn it, before vanishing from the story until a brief yet funny aside in the finale where it turns out Overkill is too tough to die from cardiac arrest. Even when his heart stops. It’s a weird disposal of two of the more complex characters with a relationship ripe for growth, but at least the joke is funny.
That value structure is maintained for the rest of the side characters. In a small character-building scene, it turns out that Superian is a nice guy who’s always harbored doubts about The Terror’s defeat and knew about his own weakness, but like any of us, had a hard time acknowledging his faults because he wants to be a good person—or at least seem like a good person, which to many is the first step. That’s very sweet and also never touched on again.