[rating=8.00] “El Valero”
There’s an idea, pompous though it may be, that the purpose of art, one of them at any rate, is to ask The Questions. You know that ones I’m talking about; The Questions which keep us up at night, even if we don’t know their exact nature. Those existential queries that haunt the blackened recesses of our minds, just waiting for the right moment (which is usually the wrong moment) to rear their heads and screw up our vibe.
While I’m not quite ready to declare Preacher to be anything near the realm of art yet, that didn’t stop them from asking The Questions last night, offering as deep a glimpse into the true nature of its potential as we’ve gotten, all while delivering solid entertainment. Art it might not be, but “art” needn’t ever be confused with “not good.”
The first question to discuss is one of distance, both posed and answered by Jesse’s increasingly fragile psyche. The enormity of his guilt over Eugene’s fate has been weighing heavier and heavier on his mind since his accidental damnation two episodes ago. You can imagine, then, how overjoyed he must have been to hear the telltale scratching at the floorboards, as if someone was trying to get into the church by digging their way in.
Surely it can’t be that easy, right? There can be no doubt that Eugene didn’t just dig his way out of Hell, into the church. But there he is, in the flesh, asking for water, to the delight of Jesse. Which brings us to the first of The Questions: How far away is Hell?
“It’s not that far,” says Eugene.
While the supposed twist that it wasn’t actually Eugene was pretty easy to call—he was just way too content to give Jesse a hug—it does tell us a lot about Jesse. First, he’s going crazy, and not just a little bit. It takes Jesse longer than it should have to realize that Eugene was just a hallucination; he even called Sheriff Root to tell him he had his son and he was safe. Second, it gives us an idea of Jesse’s general worldview, which is to say, Hell is all around us.
That makes sense, given everything Jesse is going through right now, Genesis being the least of his problems (which says a lot). As if being introduced into the world of vampires, demons, and angels wasn’t enough, he’s got a more immediate concern at the moment in Quincannon, whose men have surrounded the church, just waiting to take his land by force.
We learned a lot about Quincannon last night, shedding some insight into his character, his motivations, and finally learning the answer to what god he’s serving thanks to Jesse’s influence. We get that answer as a bonus to the answer of another question, the second from last night, What’s the difference between a cow and a little girl?
Quincannon, it seems, wasn’t always so cold and heartless, even if his workaholism has always been a part of his character. He used to have a family, one whom he loved, one who loved him. That all changed one fateful sky trip, which Odin, true to form, skipped so he could work. That decision may have saved his life, but it changed him forever, creating the murderous businessman we know today. While journeying up the ski lift at Vail, a cable broke, sending his entire family plummeting to their deaths.
From here we learn that Quincannon used to be quite active in the church, going so far as to call Jesse’s father for some emergency grief counseling after he received their coffined bodies. Jesse’s father arrives to find Odin bloodied and frantic, surrounded by open coffins and the body of a dead cow. Like all people caught in grief’s grip, he’s crazed and maddened, screaming about God’s absence, wondering how the preacher can follow a God so callous. And that’s when Quincannon poses The Question. Holding up two intestines he asks Jesse’s father to tell him which one is his daughter’s and which one is the cow’s.
This is the moment that informs that rest of Quincannon’s life, turning him into the character we know today. There was no spirit he could find, nothing by which to differentiate the innards of his daughter with the innards of his cow. In the end we’re just meat. The cow and the human separated only by form.
That’s the God which Quincannon serves, the God of Meat. The god of tangibility. The god of what’s real. And it’s in the service of that god that Quincannon launches his attack on Jesse’s church—he wants to erase the church in order to build a massive food court, one which houses restaurants that serve beef in all its forms. Call it the house of worship for the carnivore.
Of course, the legalities of his claim is tenuous at best. Sure, he and Jesse made a deal; and sure, Jesse probably could’ve chosen his words better (will he ever learn?); but it’s difficult to see a court of law upholding the deal, even with the declarations of the mayor, who’s so far in Quincannon’s pocket that he must shit lint.
Jesse holds his own though, showing Quincannon, and the entire town, which came out to watch the standoff, that he’s more than just a preacher. Every attack by Quincannon’s men, including Donnie, who’s hilariously dressed in his Confederate cosplay we first saw back in the pilot, is met with Jesse’s skills at violence. Whether in hand to hand combat or long distance shooting, Jesse single handedly wards off the interlopers with well-aimed shots and well-timed punches, leaving Quincannon’s men broken, bloodied, and in one case dickless, but still breathing.
None of that matters, however, as Donnie does the first smart thing he’s ever done (which is saying a lot because it was still pretty stupid). While the town and Quincannon’s mean are busy creating a celebratory picnic atmosphere surrounding the church, Donnie ducks off to his car, hiding his head in the trunk, and firing his gun.
This leaves Danny completely deaf, and therefore immune to the power of Genesis. Trump card in play, he stealthily moves in on the church by himself, catching Jesse unawares and letting Quincannon have his in. As Quincannon is about to force Jesse to sign over the deed to his church and his land, Jesse makes one last play.
One more Sunday, he asks for. Give him one more week, and at the next sermon he’ll produce God, force him to answer for his sins, to offer atonement for the grief he has caused humanity. If he can produce God, maybe Quincannon will let him keep his church.
Given that Jesse can force angels to do his bidding, it stands to reason that he’ll be able to call forth God using the power of Genesis. At the very least, it gives him some hope—perhaps the fact that Genesis can override God is the reason it was first kept secret in the first place. It’ll be interesting to see if this is actually within Jesse’s power, and how he’ll screw it up if it is.
For now though, all we’re left with is questions. Some big and existential, some small and inconsequential. If Preacher can keep up this direction moving into the final two episodes of the season and into next year, it’s possible that, one day, it might become elevated almost to the point of art.
