Riverdale review: Riverdale attempts to shake things up and can’t quite deliver

Riverdale points out the obvious, but continues the deliver on all the obvious, in a silly, frustrating episode that proves Betty is the real MVP.

Anytime I write something a little disdainful about Riverdale, I feel compelled to qualify it with the disclaimer that I really love this show. I don’t just write about it, I genuinely love it. However, hailing from the Deep South, I’ve become quite the expert at being critical of things I truly love, and I often have to use this strategy when it comes to my Riverdale fanhood. “I’m not mad, just disappointed” succinctly sums up how I feel about “Chapter Forty-Two: The Man In Black.”

The episode breaks from its normal narrative theme, enlisting first-time Riverdale writer, Janine Salinas Schoenberg. Props for trying to shake things up, but the interesting structure can’t  overcome the ill-conceived plot lines for the core four, and the show winds up constantly trying to write itself out of corners. Unfortunately, this makes the characters seem even dumber than they usually are. Betty, of course, is the exception to this rule, but I’ll get to her in a bit.

“The Man in Black” breaks the hour into three segments, each focusing on independent storylines. We see Archie and Jughead cozying up to Riley Keough on a farm in the town of Athens, Veronica trying to keep her Speakeasy afloat, and Betty fighting to escape from the Sisters of Quiet Mercy.

I have beef with each of them, and I’ll sort it out here:

Jughead and Archie

It’s Riverdale canon to understand that Archie is completely useless and debilitating to solving any sort of mystery or problems. Jughead reminds Archie of this (although the rest of us don’t need the reminder), saying “Archie … You can’t go five minutes without being kidnapped or getting the crap kicked out of you. That was before you were marked for death by Hiram Lodge.”

I like that Riverdale indulges in a little meta-humor here, but I don’t love that they aren’t self-aware to subvert these expectations. The minute they arrive on Laurie and Grace’s farm, greeted by shotguns, the vibe is unsettling. We know it, Jughead knows it, Martians from outer space know it. But not Archie. He immediately feels at home there, inexplicably trusting these folks enough to tell all his secrets.

Obviously so horny for Keough’s Laurie that he loses all common sense, Archie tells her his real identity, name-drops Hiram Lodge, and outlines his plan. So dumb. So, so, dumb. Thank goodness he looks good with his shirt off, because why else would we even need him?

Jughead is determined to stay on task, thank goodness, and ventures into a mostly abandoned town to take pictures, per the original plan. He meets a wise old lady who fills us in on the fizzle rock stuff, and he gets the deets on the cryptic man in black that forces the town’s men folk to work at a prison that also doubles as a drug lab. More props to Riverdale for throwing everything at the wall to see what sticks. Something is bound to take, at this point.

Conveniently enough, Jughead gets eyes on the big, bad, man in black, and of course it’s Hiram. Did anybody NOT see this coming? Hiram’s presence establishes a thread that runs through all three segments, making this episode solely about far his reach is.

The Man in Black

Although they don’t give Hiram his own title card, he turns up in all three segments. I’m not so mad at this because I find Mark Consuelos’ try-hard villainy to be weirdly endearing. Despite the efforts of Riverdale to paint him like a Tarantino villain, he comes off (and I’ve said this many times before) as more caricature than actual menace, but it’s a bold move to assign him as the criminal rainmaker. I’m not sure Consuelos has the gravitas to carry plots A-C, but I’m delighted to watch him try.

Veronica

People, we’ve had to endure our fair share of nonsense over the seasons from this show, but this is a bridge too far. I’ve been saying, since it’s inception, that it’s downright idiotic to have a teenager running a Speakeasy.

But to have Veronica openly acknowledge how silly it is — “We’ll never turn a profit selling mocktails to high schoolers who sit here all day, playing some stupid board game” — is a slap in the face. I actually typed, in my notes, “WELL DUH!”

I resent the writers trying to make us believe that she can now run an underground casino, complete with mob folks and a crooked dealer that helps Veronica cheat. (Again, in my notes, I typed, in all caps “SHE CAN”T EVEN RUN A CLUB FOR CHILDREN.”

She didn’t even know you had to cheat. She just thought “the house always wins” because of some gambling elf-magic, apparently. The only reason she has any working knowledge of this whole thing in the first place is because she accepted help from her father — the same father that she disowned, rejected, and openly challenged.

This whole bit is so full of plot holes it wouldn’t hold meatballs, although Reggie is looking like one mighty fine meatball in his tux. Veronica spent last season leaning into her father’s criminal enterprises, only to have a self-righteous change of heart this season. Riverdale is now making Veronica, once again, change course, accepting interference from her father. She even parrot’s his questionable morals, telling Reggie, it’s perfectly fine to cheat, as long as you win (I’m paraphrasing.)

Riverdale must stop pretending Veronica is some worldly young adult, and acknowledge she is a child and doesn’t know anything about anything. She certainly shouldn’t move out of her penthouse, where she lives rent free, unless it’s to get rid of Hermione’s badly disguised facelift. And she certainly shouldn’t go around disowning parents when she’s only going to regurgitate their own values. Veronica is canceled for now.

Betty

The only redeeming bit of this nightmare of an experiment is Betty Cooper and her bewitching voiceover of her stay at the Sisters of Quiet Mercy. For one, I’m here for Betty with no Pony, and for two, I wish I could always hear what Betty is thinking. We need more logic and sound reasoning in this show.

Betty’s harrowing, and somewhat fruitless, plan to escape the convent is thwarted by none other than Ethel. She’s evolved from a mousey little background player we barely notice, to a stinging antagonist we actively hate. She’s president of the Gargoyle King’s fan club, and her annoying brown-nosing toward Sister Woodhouse is hard to watch, but not terribly unexpected.

Although Betty continues to serve as hope for the Riverdale future, they’ve done some pretty exciting stuff with Ethel’s character. I like that she’s this mousy, bully-victim turned self-proclaimed Queen Bee. She’s positioned herself as a foe to Betty because of Betty’s perfect persona, perceiving she’s stealing something from Betty as the new Queen. I like this matchup.

Join me here every week as I run down the major happenings in all things Riverdale. In the meantime, tweet me (@SundiSRose) your thoughts, theories, hopes and dreams for Riverdale season 3.