Let’s begin with the most obvious starting point: The Walking Dead managed to deliver the most frustrating season finale to date, which is saying something after the end of the fifth season.  The writers and producers chose to end the season on one of the cheapest cliffhangers in recent memory, made worse by the fact that the audience’s expectation and anticipation of Negan’s horrific introduction was used all season long to generate a sense of foreboding.  All of that narrative tightening of the screws ultimately amounted to nothing, and that is a pain that will linger in the hearts of the show’s fandom.

There is no way to sugarcoat the miscalculation.  This episode was already a bit padded to help extend the airtime, and the placement of commercial breaks left me with the impression that they wanted to actively break the growing tension as much as possible.  Even so, I gave them the benefit of the doubt; surely the escalating reality of how badly Team Grimes underestimated the Saviors would culminate in that iconic death-by-Lucille, right? 

Wrong.  They tried to have their cake and beat it mercilessly to death, too.  And what was lost was the gist of the scene from the original source material: not only the fact that Team Grimes wasn’t going to be able to escape the consequences of their actions this time, but they would have to endure watching one of their own get their skull crushed.  The immediate knowledge of the pain and suffering of the victim and the onlookers is the point of all that came before; without it, both sides of the coin are rendered less than the sum of their parts.

Already there are fans who consider this the final straw after the long tease regarding Glenn and that damn dumpster in the first half of the season.  And for that matter, they played games with the audience regarding Daryl’s fate after the end of “East”, too.  I can’t blame fans who were already feeling used and abused if they say enough is enough.  The writers and producers are treating the audience as a given, as if they can toy with emotions and anxieties without a consequence themselves.  There’s probably a metaphorical connection to the hubris of Rick Grimes in those scri[ting decisions, should one wish to look.

While I appreciate the point of how the Saviors slowly but surely toyed with our survivors, hemming them in little by little, that application of terror could and should have been matched with a bit more focus on Maggie.  She was rendered little more than a plot device in this episode, which was maddening.  Much of the first two-thirds of the episode was spent on surface-level examination of the situation, with the only real shift taking place when Eugene stepped up and had those truly heartfelt moments with Abraham and Rick.  (Which, having handed over the instructions on how to make bullets, Eugene is now my top contender for Lucille’s tender mercies, as he is now technically unnecessary to the narrative.)

Meanwhile, even the logical progression of the subplot between Carol and Morgan seemed to be handled in fits and starts, robbing it of gravitas.  Looking back on the season, the philosophical difference of opinion between Carol and Morgan is surprisingly powerful.  Carol and Morgan go through psychological journeys that lead them to adopt elements of each other’s worldview: Carol falls into a depressive breakdown that leaves her unable and unwilling to kill again, while Morgan must accept that sometimes a life really must be taken to save another.  Strictly on the merits of the character interplay, it’s strong material, but the editing robs the payoff of its intended impact.

In a perfect world, the finale would have spent far more time inside the heads of the characters, letting us see their growing terror instead of waiting until they were trapped.  After all, Rick starts out intensely arrogant, unaware (or unwilling to admit) that the Saviors are already toying with his people.  By the end, he’s barely able to contain his terror.  We saw a few points along that curve, but it would have been a lot more effective if the progression was more intimately explored.

What needs to be addressed is the mind-numbing inability to address the show’s pacing issues and how often they drop the ball on genuine moments of psychological terror.  They hit the nail on the head with that creepy whistling, so they know what elements ought to work.  And “Not Tomorrow Yet” demonstrated how well they can ramp up intensity and leave the audience on edge for an entire episode.  So how is it that a two-man episode like “Here’s Not Here” can be near-perfect with an extended airtime, but a massive ensemble piece like “Last Day on Earth” is a dull, plodding, and self-defeating mess?  All those sins are firmly on the production side, and I’m beginning to think Gimple needs new blood in the writing and directorial departments.