The various dissections of Mare of Easttown may forever continue to unfold (as is the case with The Sopranos), which is somewhat ironic considering the overall simplicity of the story, its setting and the expected setup for a surprise conclusion after many red herrings. Alas, apart from the fact that the show isn’t a great PSA for Pennsylvania not being seen as a state of inbreedin’ rednecks, it’s also not a great one for espousing the use of guns—or even owning them “just to have.” While one would think “that ilk” was increasingly few and far between considering the carnage that touting the “glory” of the Second Amendment hath wrought in general and in particular over the past six months, instead it seems to have amalgamated all the worst kinds of people within areas like the very town Mare Sheehan (Kate Winslet) resides.
Although Easttown is meant to be a “fictional” version—or maybe “alternate reality” version is the better term—of Easttown Township, most of the filming took place in Delaware County, rather than Chester County. And apparently because Mare is so “salt of the earth,” there’s never an opportunity to feature her in a scene that includes going to the King of Prussia Mall (much to Taylor Swift’s dismay). Maybe that lack also stems from the tacit notion that Mare is probably afraid she might get ensnared in the crossfire of an arbitrary mass shooting. After all, who is more cognizant of the gun-toting population in this (red)neck of PA than Mare? A woman who clocks every subtlety. And knowing Easttown as she does, she’s also surely aware that “harmless” men like Glen Carroll (Patrick McDade) are wont to store their collection (whether multiple pieces or just one) in a shed without much concern over, say, an adolescent boy who might suddenly decide he needs to access it in order to scare away his dad’s incestuous mistress.
Of course, as those who have seen the saga know, this refers to the impetuous, at-his-wit’s-end Ryan Ross (Cameron Mann). One day just an “innocent kid” paid to mow the Carrolls’ lawn, the next a convicted murderer, what Mare of Easttown perhaps didn’t actually intend with this requisite plot twist was to drive home the point that America—particularly of the bent paraded in this series—needs stricter gun control, and urgently. Or, better still (if entirely implausible when one thinks of the outcry it would cause), a total disarmament of the nation. Were this to happen, there would be no such “secreted away” gun in the shed for Ryan to casually make note of for convenient use later, when the precipitous lust for Erin McMenamin’s (Cailee Spaeny) blood came to roost.
And, as every villain in Scooby-Doo said, he might have gotten away with it, if it wasn’t for that meddling Mare. But really, Glen Carroll is the one to blame for bringing up a very valuable piece of information to Mare (though why he wouldn’t bring it up sooner is beyond this viewer), summoning her over to his abode to say, “Ever since Betty passed, things have gone missing around the house. Like my Eagles cup from the championship game. Gone. I had a pizza slicer—it was a real good pizza slicer. Gone. And my gun was missing too.” Obviously, the pizza slicer’s disappearance will remain one of the greatest mysteries of all about this show.
Mare then tries to angle him toward a more precise point by offering, “Okay. So you’d like to report a missing gun?” He contradicts, “No, no. It’s not missing anymore.” “So it wasn’t stolen?” she steers. Glen reminds, “Do you remember the morning you came over for my granddaughter and the prowler?” Of course Mare does. Glen further explains, “Well I’d gone out to the shed and got the gun, so I know I had it then. But that night, I heard a noise out in the shed and I went out to get it, and it was gone.” Mare prompts, “But now it’s back?” Glen confirms, “Yes. I went out the other day to get some tools, and there it was.” By this point, Mare should really be starting to put two and two together, but it takes a little more effort for Glen to get the already discernible message across as he continues, “You know, I don’t know what I’m saying.” Mare probes, “Uh, okay, what kind of gun is it?” He declares, “It’s a Colt Detective Special.” That finally gets Mare’s undivided attention—up to now being there seemingly only out of a sense of reluctant duty. When she repeats the name of the model, Glen explains, “When I retired from the Ridley force, they let me keep it.” Here, too, is another moment of unwitting advocacy for not letting “the powers that be” (cough cough, pigs) offer so many opportunities for guns to slip through the cracks and into the hands of crackpots. Whether ex-cops or otherwise.
Glen himself is clearly aware of the entire subset of dangers that comes with keeping a gun on one’s premises, which is why, when Mare inquires if she can take a look at the .38 Special in question, he expounds, “I used to keep it in the attic but the grandkids got up there messin’ around so I locked it in here.” Apparently not factoring in an “honorary grandchild” in the form of Ryan, his grass-trimmer. Something Mare takes into account immediately when she asks Glen who else has access to the shed.
“The strange thing is: there’s two rounds missing,” Glen adds, ostensibly not noticing that Mare is on the precipice of orgasm already over this remarkable find in the Ironclad Evidence Hall of Fame without him needing to get her to squirt via the extra confirmation this is, indeed, the murder weapon. Which means, of course, that John Ross (Joe Tippett), Ryan’s father, was not the responsible culprit, but merely the one who performed the cover-up.
While the photo that Chief Carter (John Douglas Thompson) is handed by Erin’s best friend, Jess (Ruby Cruz), is supposed to be all the evidence anyone needs for a viable motive, no one could have accounted for the curveball at hand perhaps because a key motif in Mare of Easttown is how children are among the “unbesmirchable innocents” of this world, dealt the shitty hand of being born in the first place, and often to parents who are either ill-equipped or don’t really give the kind of tailored love or care needed. Which is, clearly, a primary struggle in the narrative, Mare being the giant beacon to reflect that back to every other parent in Easttown. But once Ryan starts talking, he reveals his “major incitement” for doing it: “I wanted to keep my family together.” A.k.a. get rid of any extraneous temptation for John, as it would turn out. Enter the phenomenon known as: parentification. Something Siobhan (Angourie Rice) also endures with Mare as a mother.
And though an unexpected twist is all very lovely, no one seems to want to touch the fact that, somehow, Ryan was “good” to ride his bike all the way out to Brandywine Park (and then back, adding up to at least thirty miles round-trip) after first going to Mr. Carroll’s shed, while Erin herself needed to cajole Deacon Mark (James McArdle) to take her out to the rendezvous spot because she “couldn’t have” ridden her own bike all that distance. But maybe those extra few years Erin has over Ryan just made her too “decrepit” to do it, while he’s still full of more youth and vigor. And anyway, there are so many “little details” we’re meant to “excuse” on Mare of Easttown solely because of how Winslet acts the shit out of the role.
Among those details not only includes the aforementioned pizza slicer, but also, why would Erin, in the year 2017, feel compelled to take the kind of tangible photo that required being developed in a dark room (presumably in a public place—and, as we all know, in a small town, the sight of such a photo would spread like wildfire in the rumor mill)? Even though the intent was probably so such an incriminating picture wouldn’t be uploaded to the goddamn Cloud, its presence in a dark room and/or the negatives being in someone else’s titillated hands doesn’t make it any less of a likely-to-be-discovered hot potato even without the Cloud.
As for being, underneath it all, a cautionary tale about gun control and how such control could easily prevent unnecessary fatalities, that message is loud and clear during Ryan and Erin’s tussle. The “mistake” of killing her starting with shooting a bullet through her hand when the gun’s trigger is abruptly pulled and then entering her head with a second accidental shot. That’s the thing about guns: the wounds they inflict can’t always be undone. And the people who tend to feel obliged to use them usually aren’t thinking rationally anymore (if they ever were).
So sure, we can say Mare of Easttown is ultimately a show about an emotionally repressed woman’s redemption, but really, what it comes down to is: pass some effective legislation to bar civilians from possessing firearms. Not only so that youths, in turn, don’t end up becoming murderers long before high school graduation even hits, but because, quite clearly, the U.S. would be a less terrifying place.
