Welcome to Smash Cut’s reviews of Shameless season five! This is one of my favorite shows on the air right now, and I am beyond excited to spend some time with the Gallaghers alongside you all.
This is a big premiere, touching on all of the main characters at least briefly, both recapping where we left of, and at least beginning to outline where we’ll be going next. As such, it’s a busy episode, and there isn’t as much substance as there could be here owing to the sheer shoe-leathery-ness of it all. In a way it’s fitting that any Shameless premiere would be a little messy, rough around the edges—and given the way that the excellent fourth season built to such a laser focus, it’s only fair to allow this season some time to build up speed.
It’s also worth noting early on the show’s skewed sense of morality. Traditional notions of right and wrong are right out the window here. Feel that swell of pride as Mickey dons a tie and heads out to work? Well he’s running a fake moving company and selling rich people’s shit. And so on and so forth.
The downside of a messy, rough around the edges premiere is that not everything lands the way it should. There’s plenty to admire here, to be sure, not least the episode’s somewhat surprising MVPs, Veronica and Kevin, whose struggles with new parenthood are a perfect blend of gooey sentimentality and classic Shameless raunch. It’s not always easy to relate to the characters on this show, but the script and actors work together here to find a real, beating heart in both v and Kev. Steve Howie especially is a powerhouse here, delivering on the comedy as always, but also delivering on an emotional level. Their conflict is real and raw, and a breath of fresh air given the cartoonish heights the episode occasionally reaches.
I’m partial to Mickey and Ian, so their story this week worked for me as well (even if it is breaking my heart to watch it unfold!). Noel Fisher is a great addition to the regular cast, and he and Ian have perhaps the most compelling relationship on the show at the moment. Cameron Monaghan is running with the bipolar material, and does a great job selling both the manic and the depressive moments. There’s likely going to be a few episodes of this waiting for the other shoe to drop, but “Milk of the Gods” does a fine job of establishing the stakes. What’s clear throughout the episode is the extent to which Mickey truly loves Ian—and so we already know just how much damage Ian is going to end up doing here.
Jeremy Allen White is also reliable as always, with Lip’s homecoming taking an unexpectedly melancholic turn. His return to the neighborhood is muted and disappointing for him, a fish out of water story in reverse. How far he has come in just a year away at school. The shots of Lip on the subway are really well done, creating a sense of claustrophobia and discomfort. Lip thought he had trouble adjusting to university, but he’s practically gone native now; it’s the South Side where he has trouble belonging.
That leaves us with Fiona and Frank, who unfortunately have the more underwhelming moments of the premiere. Fiona’s story isn’t bad so much as it’s stagnant. The arc of her brief rise and crushing fall gave definition to both the character and the series last season. Now she’s in the same place we’ve seen her so often, working a job that should be beneath her, flirting with an inappropriate man. She seems happier and more well-adjusted than during her spiral, and Emmy Rossum is lovely as always, but there’s no bite to this story right now.
At least Fiona’s story is steady and consistent, though. Everything involving Frank, as is too often the case, is stupid. After a transcendent arc toward the end of season four, it’s more than a little disappointing to see the writing for the character return to such juvenile, puerile nonsense. I get that Frank is meant to be reprehensible, but with his life on the line there was at least drama in it. Now it’s just more of the same, and it’s a complete waste of William H. Macy and Joan Cusack’s considerable talents. Sheila’s feud with Samantha is absolutely terrible, and has no dimension to it at all. Samantha’s complete heel-turn in characterization falls totally flat—in fact it’s almost embarrassing to watch unfold. There’s just no room for sympathy left with Frank as a character, regardless of the situations the writers concoct, after his magnificent “fuck you” to God. It’s a point that is only exacerbated by the entire Gallagher clan’s rejection of him. We have far too quickly arrived at the point where time spent with Frank only detracts from the other, more interesting characters; and this episode spends entirely too much time on Frank.
It’s not perfect, but season four was so good that it’s not quite fair to expect “Milk of the Gods” to reach those heights immediately. What’s good here is great, while what doesn’t work still has plenty of room to improve. One hopes the writing staff will figure out a better way to write Frank, and something more engaging for Fiona, but there’s plenty here to like aside from them. It’s good to have the Gallaghers back.
Stray Observations:
- We’ll have the Gallaghers around for a while yet, as the show has been renewed for a sixth season, as is Showtime’s wont.
- Watching the “previously on” had me immediately nostalgic for season four, which really was just great television through and through.
- “That Chuckie thing” is my new favorite way to refer to Chuckles, who is still inherently funny without having to do or say a damn thing.
- Dermot Mulroney has replaced Jeffrey Dean Morgan as Sam, which had me extremely confused for much of the episode, mainly because I was conflating Sam with Mulroney’s New Girl character for no reason that I can think of now.
- Sam’s relationship with Fiona, meanwhile, is kind of bland, not least because Jimmy/Steve is out there somewhere, gathering strength to ruin my enjoyment of this show once more.
- Stumpy, Lip’s friend with the new piercings, is disgusting looking.
- A real estate company is running around looking to buy up South Side homes on the cheap. I love when Shameless takes the unique opportunity to do stories about class, and I’m looking forward to its take on gentrification.
Michael Wampler is a graduate of The College of New Jersey, where he completed both B.A. and M.A. degrees in English literature. He currently lives and works in Princeton, NJ while he shops around his debut novel and slowly picks away at his second. Favorite shows include Weeds, Lost, Hannibal and Mad Men (among many more). When not watching or writing about television, he enjoys reading, going for runs, and building his record collection.