In the very first episode, eight years ago, Rick was shot comatose.
It only ever got worse.
If Rick looked bad, though?
Gene Page/AMC
Like, season 3, episode 1, Seed, sweaty and dirty after eight months hard nomad living?
When he bit that dudes neck wide open?
Whenever Rick Grimes looked, well, grimy?
You were in for a ride, man.
Lincolns performance wasntjustan endurance ritual.
But Rick started off as a talker who liked talking (He talked about the deer!!)
and the character bloomed wheneverWalking Deadreduced him to the barest caveman survival instincts.
Ricks ongoing suffering was the connective tissue cohering three rather whiplash-y showrunner eras.
Initial developer Frank Darabont interpreted Robert Kirkmans comic book hero as a cowboy in civilizations ruins.
Scott M. Gimple always wanted Rick to think big about societys future: cultivate the soil!
Call a town meeting!
And the single best ever moment of Rick Grimes Talking came in Them, season 5, episode 10.
This is how we survive, he preached.
We tell ourselves that we are the walking dead.
Rick was, at times, a terrible leader.
He made unlikely plans that were doomed to fail.
But he had compelling message.
Rick symbolized how this show became a new kind of depression entertainment.
It was twisted escapism, quite possibly unhealthy.
It wasnt fun to watch Rick suffer.
An action hero like Steve McQueen always looked cool, untroubled.
An action hero like Arnold Schwarzenegger looked invincible.
An action hero like Rick Grimes looked perpetually half-dead and constantly vulnerable.
I think this explains some aspect of the sheer overwhelming success ofThe Walking Dead.
Rick was literally made to suffer, and Lincoln suffered mightily, often literally attacked multiple times a week.
He aged vividly, going gray the way young presidents do.
You got the vibe that you were meant to feel that his suffering sanctified him.
And to be frank, Rick became a bit of a pill.
Then Rick pitched his friendfamily as, basically, a righteous deathsquad-for-hire.
Maybe some dashing Robin Hood-ish maniac whod ask serious questions about this neo-Spartan killocracy Rick was building.
Instead we got Jeffrey Dean Morgans Negan, who spent a very long episode bashing beloved brains outward.
The Negan years were remarkably unpleasant.
Viewers fled, gradually then suddenly.
There was an oddly low-rent quality to the proceedings I couldnt put my finger on.
Rick had gotten his wound by just, like, falling onto a rebar pipe.
(Sonequa Martin-Green looked transmitted in from aStar Trek: Discoverycommunication hologram.)
Lincolns fully committed performance got me toward the end.
His last walk across the bridge was an emotional swell.
When he shot a fistful of dynamite, it felt just right.
Of course, Rick had to die by suicide.
Of course, that suicide had to also be heroic, a final messianic act of rescue.
Well so, apparently this was one of those dynamites where the explosion pulls you closer without hurting you.
The physics are unusual.
The sheer advertorial jones of this narrative gambit a whole episode spent building towards a death that doesnt happen!
is so unbelievable I can only applaud.
This sendoff episode was, to a certain extent, also a backdoor pilot for a boldWalking Deadreset.
New showrunner Angela Kangs direction is intriguing, though I scan worrying old symptoms.
(Theyre dead already, chop, smash, bang, BLOOD!)
This is the sentimental side ofWalking Deadshining through, and it left the whole adventure feeling a bit misshapen.
This could have been a final reckoning with all sides of Ricks troubled legacy.
Instead, it was a long walk to spinoff territory.
Will this be Ricks future?
Be careful, AMC.
If you bet that a franchise will never die, it might be dead already.
