Episode 3 of the second season of Preacher starts with a lovely bucolic flashback of Eugene Root biking to his friend Tracy Loach’s house to help comfort her after her boyfriend cheats on her. She has decided to kill herself with her daddy’s shotgun over the under-bleacher hummer her boyfriend recently got from that skank Karen Freakin’ Murphy, who is, at best, a 5. Eugene, who obviously has a bit of a crush on her, convinces her not to do it by suggesting that a miracle is “just around the corner.” She is grateful for the shoulder to cry on, but Eugene takes it a step too far and kisses her. She is put off by that and, well, grabs the shot gun and blows her own head off. Eugene is horrified and panicky, especially now that Mrs. Loach has shown up at the house. He tries to put her brains back in her head, and then, out of options, sticks the shotgun in his own mouth.  Boom.

 

This is a much different origin for Eugene/Arseface, who, in the comic, was a loser simply emulating his hero Kurt Cobain by shooting himself.  This gives a much more sympathetic portrayal of Eugene and I really think this change is a smart one.

And then we see the suicides over and over again, boom splat boom splat boom splat, and we know: Eugene is in Hell, which appears to be a solitary, black and white jail cell.

On the way to New Orleans, the trio listens to Di Lieto’s “A Walk to the Peak,” while Tulip tries to convince them not to go to New Orleans, but won’t say why.  Upon arrival, they head into the first bar and Jesses just straight up says they’re looking for God. The bartender gives them a knowing look, and leads them behind the bar, down to a basement, and behind a curtain where a lovely lady is holding the leash of a man dressed in fetish gear as a puppy. They will do certain acts for money. Not quite the God they were looking for (maybe the bartender is dyslexic?). Behind the dog mask, a lone eye stares back at them.

Back on the street: Tulip spies a sinister black SUV and suddenly claims not to be feeling well. She walks away, with Cassidy going after her. He suggests taking her back to his friend, Denis’s house, where they can all crash for a bit. Jesse is all alone to continue the search.

Cassidy wonders if Tulip’s nervousness has anything to do with the large man she killed back in the casino. Before she can explain anything, she is recognized by Mrs. Barbaret, an old family friend, out on the street. Oh, crap. Now Tulip knows she needs to get out of town.

After getting laughed at a few times for telling people he’s looking for God, Jesse takes a break and smokes. Surprising.

Back at Denis’s (does Cassidy even know him? Denis only speaks French and Cassidy, well, does not) Tulip finally admits that the reason she’s freaking out is because Viktor lives in New Orleans, and Viktor is a man that she screwed over. No additional details are given.

Jesse visits bar after bar after bar in a quirky neon sign montage that reminded me of noir movies of the 1940s. After waking him up, one bartender tells Jesse he should talk to the singer at La Chamonix bar. After watching her perform, they chat at the bar and she throws a drink in Jesse’s face but whispers to meet her outside.  From the bathroom he catches a glimpse of her getting into a taxi, and then the taxi immediately crashes into a white van. Jesse runs out to help her, commanding the white-suited thugs in the van to stop with Genesis when they try to drive off, and then beating them all up (maybe a little too easily?). They head back to her apartment where she explains that those men in white were chasing after a customer she once met who told her that God was missing.  She demands to know how Jesse got those thugs to stop, and he shows her (I had a vision of the Saint perking his ears up then like a dog hearing a distant siren).  She hops in a cab and is gone.

 

Tulip calls Jesse and hems and haws while trying to talk to him, so Jesse gets mad and hangs up. Oh, you two crazy kids…  Tulip is restless and, against Cassidy’s wishes, goes out to get some cigarettes.  Meanwhile, in Hell, Eugene’s cell is unlocked and he carefully walks out into the hallway, where he meets Adolf Hitler.  Yep.

Back in New Orleans, in yet another club, Jesse requests “A Walk to the Peak,” and is properly schooled about the tune by a jazz old-timer: “It’s the end of the world.”  In another part of town, the singer from before gets into a white van, takes off her wig to reveal that she is Lara Featherstone (who?) who explains to the driver that Jesse actually does have the power, and she is moving this case up to Samson Unit.  A file of cases is plopped down on the desk of Herr K. Starr, the (presumed) head of the Samson Unit.  Starr is wearing the same outfit as the van thugs were, a crisp white suit and a red tie. He is bald, with a thin, severe face and a nasty scar across one blind eye.  One file has a label: Jesse Custer. Another has: Pig.


At a laundromat (where all the classy cigarettes brands are sold, I guess?) Tulip gets some change and starts plugging coins into a vending machine, one by one. As she does so a group of threatening men start filling the screen behind her, telling everyone else to get out of the store. She just keeps putting in coins until the pack finally drops. She picks up her cigs and turns around, no emotion on her face. The main goon calls Viktor on his phone: “We got her.”

Jesse and the gang seem to be getting a little closer to finding God, but other more nefarious groups are also circling in on them. I am so glad we got to meet Herr Starr, who is such an amazing and ruthless character in the books. Knowing how incredibly perverted and violent he can be (and also what happens to him) I am wildly curious to see how much of it makes it to the television screen. Seth Rogan and Evan Goldberg and Sam Catlin (and AMC) have been pretty damn fearless so far in depicting various outrageous events, so I remain eternally hopeful. I get truly giddy before I watch each episode, delighted at what I’ve seen so far and wondering what delights I’ll be shown next. 

See you next time!

 

About the Author

Mike Hansen has worked as a teacher, a writer, an actor, and a haunt monster, and has been a horror fan ever since he was a young child. Sinister Seymour is his personal savior, and he swears by the undulating tentacles of Lord Cthulhu that he will reach the end of his Netflix list. Someday.