“The Americans” thoughts, Season Six, Episode Eight: “The Summit”

I once said The Americans is a great show for faces. I’ll now go a step further: The Americans is the greatest show for faces. Since the show’s third season at least, when it permanently slowed down the clip of its capers and became one of the most ruminative “thrillers” of all time, it has relied on long stretches of silence, on closeups held on faces as if actor and camera were in a staring contest, during which only a look in the eyes or a twinge in the cheek or a tightening or loosening of the lips can convey what’s really happening and what the people it’s happening to think about it. The only show that surpasses The Americans in this regard is the third season of Twin Peaks, which among its many other attributes studies the tectonics of faces with geological patience. Not coincidentally, Twin Peaks is also the last time I can remember that a show made me feel as nauseous, for as long, as this week’s episode of The Americans did.

Written by Joshua Brand and directed with series-standard restraint by Sylvain White, “The Summit” delivered a constant barrage of shocks to the storyline, belying its peacemaking title. Yet it was concerned less with those detonations than with their impact, spread across the faces of the characters involved.

I reviewed the faces of last night’s episode of The Americans for Decider.

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