TAKE A BOW

80-Year-Old Oscar Winner Delivers the Year’s Best TV Episode

There is nothing better on TV right now than “The Lowdown.” Spoilers for Episode 6 ahead.

Much like the best mystery stories, The Lowdown’s sixth episode has it all: Sex, death, and a daring escape.

But Sterlin Harjo’s genre-bending FX series doesn’t resort to cheap thrills as the second season edges to its conclusion. Instead, the mix of hilarious farce, nerve-shredding neo-noir, hot-and-heavy romance and tender family drama makes this antepenultimate installment sing, delivering laughs, swoons, gasps and tears.

Nothing is simple when Tulsa’s self-professed “Truthstorian,” Lee Raybon (Ethan Hawke), is pounding the pavement in search of answers to bring down the powerful and corrupt. What began as an attempt to locate missing prisoner Mekko (John Parker) on behalf of a local Tulsa public defender, Ginger (Betty Gilpin), quickly spirals as Lee bumbles his way into something far bigger than he anticipated.

It is everything Lee could dream of, except he has caught feelings for Ginger, and this career-making scoop is at odds with his heart. Not only that, but the arrival of his estranged grifter father, Lee Raybon Sr., has reopened a deep, festering wound, making Lee Jr. more skittish than ever. Among the murder’s row of actors appearing in this second season (including Martha Plimpton, Clifton Collins Jr. and John Hawkes), Jones and Gilpin continue to duke it out for MVP. And this week is no different.

There is an argument to be made that having a two-hander between Lee Raybon Sr. and Jr. would have been incredibly fulfilling on its own. But Lee finally spending time with his estranged father—who goes by the nickname Frog—occupies only the second half of “Leaving and Coming Back.” Learning more about the Raybon family adds to the gut-punch ending, ensuring this is a standout in a season that is already firing on all cylinders.

Play Video

The first half is a showcase for Gilpin that should earn her another nomination if the Television Academy is paying attention. Either way, choosing to follow an Emmy-winning guest-star turn in Widow’s Bay with another series that Gilpin categorizes as anti-algorithm makes for satisfying viewing. Much like Widow’s Bay, The Lowdown also encourages you to put your phone down; otherwise, you will miss many jokes and clues in this investigation. And while it certainly has familiar beats, The Lowdown isn’t a carbon copy of something we have seen before.

Despite her kidnapping, followed by sleeping with Lee after escaping, and then ducking out before Lee wakes, Ginger is neither the damsel in distress nor the femme fatale. It would be easy for her to fall into either camp, but Ginger blazes her own path out of her perilous situation, and Lee is drawn into a dangerous plot without the lure of seduction.

Early in the episode, Gilpin’s physical comedy prowess shines when Ginger makes a run for it while still tied to a chair, making this one of the funniest and most anxiety-inducing sequences of the series so far. In a way, Ginger is a match made in heaven for Lee, who is equally clumsy and forthright whenever he is in jeopardy—which is a lot.

Hawke and Gilpin’s chemistry has been crackling since Lee’s first awkward interaction with the public defender, and it keeps soaring. Lee is caught between his journalistic urge to write this story and his promise to keep his word that she won’t be part of it. Ginger immediately clocks Lee’s “red string Murder, She Wrote wall” in his apartment, including her photo, indicating his ongoing pursuit. The push-pull between survival mode and firing off funny observations adds to the electricity, humor, and deep-rooted terror.

Now Lee’s place doesn’t exactly scream homey. His comments that the towels are clean (he thinks) and that he is substituting dish soap for body wash (which he thinks is a scam) are red flags under normal circumstances. It is indicative of Lee’s shortcomings, yet his shaggy charm supersedes the desire for fancy toiletries. He doesn’t have any booze, but he does have the keys to Sweet Emily’s diner next door, where he knows there is a bottle of Johnnie Walker, and that’s where a session of toasting to the truth begins (Lee sniffs his boots every morning; Ginger doesn’t love The Beatles).

Their burgeoning romance is further complicated by Ginger’s feelings for Mekko, the prisoner at the heart of this conspiracy, whom she has learned might not be the man she thinks he is. The Lowdown doesn’t play this as a typical love triangle, removing jealousy from the equation. Lee says he would try to let this story go for her, and that is enough in this moment. They kiss with the storm playing out behind them. But as quickly as this hookup starts, it cuts to daylight: Lee, alone in his shirt and underwear, wakes to a man cleaning the diner floor.

There is no time to dwell on this development or on Ginger’s absence as Lee reluctantly agrees to drive his father to his storage unit. Every interaction between the two men has been marked by a history that seems impossible to overcome.

When Frog first shows up at Lee’s door, Lee comes clean that he told everyone his dad was dead. Lee’s teen daughter Francis (Ryan Kiera Armstrong) is upset that she has been kept from her grandfather, and her anger only increases when she learns that Lee had Frog involuntarily committed 20 years earlier. It has all the hallmarks of a forgiveness arc, except Lee has little interest in hearing his father out for the years of hurt he inflicted—particularly over how Frog treated Lee’s mother.

Daddy issues are ripe for TV, and this one has some classic ingredients of this particular trope: philandering, walking out, and constant belittling. Francis has her own daddy issues, as Lee isn’t always the most stable father figure (as she witnessed when he gave a drunk, rambling speech in the season premiere). But she likes her grandfather, having never witnessed his bad behavior. “People are many different things to different people. There are some people I have hurt,” Frog tells Francis.

We are in a similar position to Francis, as we only see Frog in the present. But whereas Francis has rose-tinted specs, Lee’s reaction ensures we don’t need any cheap flashback scenes showing Frog at his worst, since his memories are a slideshow of negativity.

But what elevates this from a run-of-the-mill father-son rift is how each perspective is given space and weight. Directed by The Lowdown’s Rafael Casal (who plays Johnny, Francis’s stepfather) and written by Olivia Purnell, the scene where Frog recounts wooing Lee’s mother illustrates how powerful silence can be: Lee, who normally can’t stop talking, is briefly at a loss for words.

His father waxing lyrical like this only confuses him more. “Why did you leave?” Lee asks. For an investigative reporter, this is the question that burns brightest. Frog left, but he would also come back. There are no big gushing tears or embraces, but the mood afterward at the storage unit and on the way back to Tulsa reveals the shift and this new understanding.

At the gas station stop before Tulsa, Frog stays in the van but admits he needed a rest when Lee had him hospitalized. Neither man says “I forgive you” directly, yet it is heard loud and clear. The Lowdown isn’t afraid to go big with its comedy or sentiment, but restraint is equally valued, with Jones and Hawke doing some of their best work on this show or elsewhere.

Frog dies peacefully while Lee is paying for gas and grabbing snacks, contrasting the violent death earlier this season. When Lee returns and realizes his father isn’t breathing, Hawke delivers a reaction masterclass, going from looking like a lost child to slumping down, followed by sniffles and a chuckle. After this discovery, the credits roll as Lee drives back home, urging you to watch rather than succumb to the dreaded streaming autoplay.

Lee’s dad left; his dad came back. With two episodes to go, The Lowdown cements its status as one of the year’s best. Ain’t that the truth.

Obsessed with pop culture and entertainment? Follow us on Substack and YouTube for even more coverage.

Emma Fraser

Got a tip? Send it to The Daily Beast here.