Link to the audio version of this post is HERE
I never much cared for summer, if I’m being honest with you. It gets really hot and I’ve never liked the heat, and summers seem only hotter and longer than they were when I was a kid. So these days, I generally dread the return of summer. There is one tradition I do miss, though. The summer road trip. Piling everyone into the car, bags in the back, the open road between walled cities in a post-apocalyptic hellscape where every mile of open road is an ambush waiting to happen, and a society that’s been dead since the early 2000s. I promise I’m talking about a TV show and not reality. Let’s get into the Peacock original series Twisted Metal.
The only image I can remember from my 6th birthday party
When I first heard that there was going to be a TV adaptation of the video game I used play on my PlayStation back when PlayStation didn’t have any numbers after the name, I wasn’t sure it had legs as a narrative vehicle. It was basically a demolition derby where the cars were all crazy builds that would make Hot Wheels blush. We’re talking about a clown-themed ice cream van with rocket launchers, a classic yellow checker cab that lobs Molotov cocktails, a car that’s just a man suspended between two large wheels. These character designs are patently and objectively absurd. Any suggestion of a story in the games took a backseat, pardon the pun, to the chaotic, explosion-filled gameplay. It’s only through the series that I learned the game was about some huge tournament someone is holding.
All that didn’t seem like a recipe for much of anything story-wise, but I have to commend what the writers did with the source material. They took some backgrounds from the levels and some blurbs and scrolls and built a convincing post-apocalyptic United States. Around 2003, 20 years before the start of the show, “The Fall” occurred, which brought America to its knees. The division between people becomes irrevocably and physically cemented, as the country is split into those on the inside of large, walled cities that are safe and those who live outside of those cities. On the outside, we’re talking full on The Walking Dead minus the zombies. But surviving an apocalypse seems to do strange things to people and many of them have split off into factions that are reminiscent of Mad Max or any other number of post-apocalyptic media out there. It’s not a terribly original idea, I admit; but execution matters and I’ll get to that in a little bit. Goods move between the cities by means of outsider couriers called milkmen who take on the dangerous task of navigating these roads to make these “milk runs” and deliver whatever’s needed. Often these are medical supplies or ammunition or something else these roving groups of ultraviolent nutjobs are in need of, making milkmen targets for every road gang out there.
On tonight’s episode of The Falcon and Rosa Diaz…
Enter John Doe and Evelyn. John Doe is played by Anthony Mackie (The Hurt Locker, Captain America: The Winter Soldier) and he gets the moniker because at the time of The Fall, he lost his memory. So he has no recollection of the world before it became the mess it is now. Well, if that just isn’t utterly relatable. 20 years out on the road, on his own, going on milk run after milk run, facing bandits, thieves, psychopaths, and murders with no one but Evelyn to rely on is a hard life with a short life expectancy. Evelyn, as you might have guessed, is his car. And much to my delight, it’s a Subaru WRX from the early 2000s, the time around which new car production would have halted (which left the production team some serious restraints to have to work around, I imagine, and as a bit of a car nerd myself, I think they did a great job managing all that). Evelyn’s been with him since day one, at least from what he can remember. Along the way, he encounters a woman who has had a run-in with the ruthless Agent Stone, played by Thomas Haden Church (Wake Up Dead Man, Wings), a police officer from before The Fall who has taken it upon himself to restore law and order to the United States. As you can imagine, like anyone who touts law and order as a platform, his form of justice involves a great deal of fascism, hypocrisy, corruption, and cowardice. But he kills this woman’s brother and she’s pretty damn mad about it. Quiet, as John Doe comes to call her because of her refusal to speak to him, really wants one thing and that’s revenge. When Quiet does speak, though, she’s also the incredibly talented Stephanie Beatriz (Brooklyn 99, Encanto), who really gets to flex those Rosa Diaz muscles while also still playing a character who gets to occasionally be silly and goofy. She’s holding a lot of darkness inside, but there’s a lot more to her character than just brooding. I love this casting choice, I’ll watch Stephanie Beatriz in anything and she always shines. If you haven’t seen the Encanto live show on Disney+ yet, I highly recommend it. Hearing her voice in Encanto is one thing, but watching her be Mirabel live on stage is another. That Twisted Metal got such an S-tier talent to play alongside the MCU’s new Captain America should hint at just how serious the show is about delivering quality.
Drive-thru windows are high stakes
John also only wants one thing and Raven, played by Neve Campbell (Scream, The Lincoln Lawyer), essentially the mayor of New San Francisco offers it to him. You see, milkmen are essential for these walled cities to exchange goods, but every city has one immutable rule. No one from the outside is allowed in. That includes milkmen, whether they’re delivering life saving medicine or a pint of ice cream, they’ve got to leave it on the doorstep and get the hell out of there like a DoorDash driver running from attack dogs. So Raven offers him a deal. Go get a package from the mysterious Calypso and deliver it to her within the given timeframe and she’ll not only let him in the walls, she’ll give him a home. While I consider my car my spiritual home, it’s not an actual home; it lacks things like bathrooms and easily accessible seating, and I have no idea where I’d put my PS5. One more delivery for a place to live. A place to build, a place where people don’t shoot at you all the time. I mean, it’s a no-brainer, right? There can’t possibly be a catch either, she’s the mayor. Or, technically, the Chief Operating Officer. So yeah, with a corporate structure in politics, there’s really no room for backstabbing. Too many checks and balances. Definitely nothing for John to worry about, right?
This must be what it feels like trying to deliver food to Mark and Patricia McCloskey
So now our heroes are set upon their mission. A home for John, revenge for Quiet. And on these parallel journeys, we get to meet loads of totally outrageous characters. Sweet Tooth sticks out the most of these figures; the aforementioned clown. I don’t feel particularly one way or another about clowns. I mean, if I had to say, I’m probably not a fan, but they don’t upset or scare me (unless I saw one standing in a field; I’m glad that trend is over). I’d be scared of Sweet Tooth. He’s utterly psychotic, a deranged killer, and, frankly, his act could use some work. Sweet Tooth is played by Joe Seanoa, better known as wrestler Samoa Joe, and voiced by G.O.B. Bluth himself, Will Arnett (Arrested Development, Murderville). I could go on about all the crazy cameos and supporting actors you’ll see in the series, including SNL’s Chloe Fineman, Brooklyn 99’s Jason Mantzoukas, Barry’s Anthony Carrigan, and others. But the standouts are Stu, played by Mike Mitchell (Love, Brooklyn 99), and second season addition Mayhem, played by relative newcomer Saylor Bell Curda (High School Musical: The Musical: The Series). And if I kept going about who you’ll see, I’ll never get to the action.
Leaving the Disney World parking lot in summertime is for real
Because there is lots of action and it is completely bonkers. A clown van with rocket launchers is a common sight in this show. The vehicular combat is a unique combination of traditional car chases, Ken Block-style gymkhana freestyle driving, and pirate-like naval battles. It is so much fun to watch as the cars and bullets and bombs do whatever is going to look coolest at any given moment. Physics and anything that happens in the show have only a very loose relationship and that’s fine by me. The combat feels like a live action cartoon, anything can and does happen and it’s colorful and fun and absolutely wild. Bullets have a mind of their own and they hit whatever they’re going to hit based on what works for the narrative in that scene, like Westworld with cars, and it just doesn’t matter. Because it makes the 12-year-old me that used to jump into the Lucky and Wild arcade cabinet the second he got the chance (that still lives in a small corner of my brain where I don’t constantly worry about the world) happy. It’s like Hanna-Barbera’s Wacky Races, but live action and with lots more explosions. But what separates Twisted Metal from lesser attempts at appeasing the teenage brain is its depth. As much as it can be approached as a total turn-your-brain-off TV show, Twisted Metal isn’t devoid of a story. It has a lot to say about division, about community, about needing each other. It’s a surprisingly wholesome and heartfelt murderfest and the characters are genuinely real. They’re three-dimensional, they have stories that need to be told, and they’re complicated. They have differing motivations that are often at odds with one another and even at odds within themselves, and yet there are tales of cooperation and tales of redemption to be found here. But none of that weighs the series down. It gives it weight, yes, but it never gets in the way of the fun. Unlike some shows that try to inject depth by alternating between action and soap opera scenes, Twisted Metal layers the depth in as the plot moves forward, never trading fun for good storytelling.
I know no shirt can get cold, but if Sweet Tooth needs to warm up, he can always light his head on fire
Bad can be fun; just look at how many times I defend 2 Fast 2 Furious in this blog, and, I dare say, to the United Nations or any governing body if called upon. But Twisted Metal isn’t just good, it’s better than it has any right to be. This should be stupid. It should be bad. It should try to appeal to my basest instincts and lizard brain in the cheapest and worst way. But it doesn’t. It delights the inner child while telling a grown-up story and I love it for that. It’s probably not one to watch with kids, though; some things can get quite bizarre in a world without order, there’s a ton violence and gore, and lots of profanity, and as such, it’s rated TV-MA. Again, I’ve not become a parent in the last few weeks, so I’m leaving the judgment calls in your capable hands. Two seasons are currently streaming on Peacock, for a total of 22 episodes that run about half an hour each, give or take. And it’s officially been renewed for a third season set to film this year, so no fear of hopping into the passenger seat of a car heading off a cliff. Twisted Metal may not resemble a summer vacation in the Family Truckster, but it’s a great summer watch.
Remember, post-apocalypse, anyone using religious iconography is always super dangerous. Simpsons was spot on about that