The storytelling tradition of seeing otherwise normal, ordinary people get swept up in the chaos of crime is as old as time. We desire these stories as they tap into our fascination with seeing people fall from grace, leaving us wondering where this life will lead them and whether there is any hope that they will come out clean on the other side. This is the fundamental question that is on the mind of the final season of the Netflix series Ozark. Over four seasons, we have seen Jason Bateman’s Martin ‘Marty’ Byrde drag his family further into a world of crime that leaves them with increasingly few ways to escape. What began as a desperate way to survive certain death has now become a cold yet thriving business built on blood. With each decision and betrayal, we've seen the Byrde family become unredeemable in their callous cruelty while still clinging to a fading chance at salvation. In this final season, all they need to do is cut one more deal, and they’ll be in the clear. At least, that is what they are telling themselves in order to sleep at night after all they’ve done.
When playing out what the end of this show would look like after it premiered more than four years ago now, one could see the foundation being laid for this central focus. From the ominous opening moments where the show all began, we heard Marty monologue about the way he had built his existence around money as power. It was how he measured himself as a man, a speech that would become a damning indictment of everything that he would soon put his family through in pursuit of this hunger for wealth. This cutting cynical undercurrent has been echoing around in the background of the show ever since, an unanswered question left hanging as we waited for the inevitable shoe to drop. When Ozark is engaging with this question and the descent of the Byrde family, it is as riveting as it has ever been. It cuts through the noise, revealing a dedication to the story’s willingness to get down to how the family’s growing business of brutality is on a path toward destruction.
Unfortunately, it has a lot of noise to cut through that holds the show back from reaching its full potential. Characters get shuffled around, new and old, throwing narrative wrenches into the story in a misguided way of creating additional drama. This frequently does the opposite, leaving us wondering where any of these various subplots and contrivances are going. Far too many times, they go nowhere and end up dragging down the final season into cycles of mundanity that feel purposeless. There always has been a running joke that Ozark is essentially about the highest stakes running of errands one could ever experience. There are moments this reaches unintentionally absurd heights as characters get caught up in so many different tasks that the prevailing feeling is not tension but exasperation. Holding it all together is the strength of the performances who push through this narrative sludge to get to the core of what makes the show as compelling as it is.
Nowhere is this more felt than in Julia Garner’s arresting performance as the troubled Ruth Langmore, the vibrant and vulgar beating heart of the show. Having lost everything after getting caught up in Marty’s schemes, we begin the show’s final episodes as she is grappling with an unimaginable death. Garner captures this with a sense of both vulnerabilities and resolve, revealing how Ruth is more utterly broken than ever before while still being committed to getting vengeance no matter the cost. Intermixing the tragedy through flashbacks with the tension of the present, this first episode is more patient yet purposeful in a way that the rest of the show could and should have modeled. There isn’t any excess around it as we spend most of our time with Ruth, fully wrapped up in her devastation and growing rage. Her emotions are etched into every aspect of her expression, heard in every cry and yell. It is remarkable work from Garner, making it entirely likely she could be up for yet another Emmy. Building to an inevitable yet intense burst of violence, she sets in motion the steady descent over the rest of the season. One wishes Garner’s presence was more central as it would've elevated the rest of the show even more, though it remains worth praising for what we did get.
Alongside Garner is an also incredible Laura Linney as Wendy Byrde. In addition to taking on directing duties, she continues to prove to be a saving grace for the show as she convincingly shifts from being cold and calculating to unhinged in the blink of an eye. Ever since she sacrificed someone close to her, Wendy has shown she is capable of doing anything and hurting anyone to get what she wants. Linney brings this to life beautifully, instilling every scene she gets with a menacing ethos that is mesmerizing. When she has scenes alongside Bateman, who is also great in both a measured yet reserved way, this is felt even more. In one particular scene where the two discuss the depths of depravity that their lives have become, she savors every line with a sinister sense of ease. It is a shame much of her subsequent storyline is centered around an out-of-left-field appearance by a character from her past that becomes increasingly uninteresting. Still, Linney gives a transcendent performance that gets under your skin as she becomes the driving force of the family’s frightening fall.
It is in that looming atmosphere and sense of dread that Ozark is at its best in its final season. It continues in the same visual aesthetic of darker blues, though this suits the show just fine, especially when bolstered by the rising of its creeping score that makes use of pulsing stringed instruments at key moments. Still, the lack of focus left me wishing for a final season as nuanced and incisive as Better Call Saul has been. Both shows are more similar than they are different, built around people with the potential to be good who still end up going down a darker path when they could find a better way but don’t want to. One is just executed a bit better, revealing the flaws of the other that becomes quite messy.
When Ozark is focused on its strengths, it is as good as it has ever been. When it gets caught up in the weeds of a frequently plodding plot and extraneous storylines, this momentarily dulls the experience. What shines through is the way the series concludes, laying all its cards out on the table as it reveals the rottenness that is taking over the Byrde family. Key moments and cuts establish how this is coming, making it clear that tragedy is an inevitability for anyone who comes into contact with them. One moment notably cuts from a scene of torture to the preparation being done for a foundation fundraiser, putting them in clear conversation with each other as being interlinked. It establishes how, underneath all the shiny veneer they’ve built for themselves in polite society, Marty and Wendy are as evil as the people that they initially were running from.
Sure, there was a while that they could have justified their actions as being necessary to protect their family. Such an explanation just doesn’t cut it anymore. As the Byrdes do increasingly horrifying acts that they can wave away as being just part of business, we see the two as who they really are: monsters. They just happen to wear a smile while running a fancy foundation, making it all the worse as they are not outliers but people who are all too familiar. Even when they don’t do the acts themselves, they let them happen for their own selfish motivations as they continue their hunger for more power. It isn’t about their kids anymore who they increasingly don’t even pretend to trot out as props for their heartlessness. It is all about them and, for the first time in Ozark, one can finally say they deserve each other. Marty and Wendy increasingly no longer hide behind a false sense of goodness. Instead, they have fully embraced their grotesque nature with a shamelessness that is as sickening as it is salient in how it exposes our own capacity for evil in a world that rewards it.
Rating: B-
Ozark Season 4 Part 2 will be available to stream starting Friday, April 29 on Netflix.