S-Town, Episodes 2-3

At the end of every episode of S-Town, the song “A Rose for Emily” plays. As Reed closes his reflections, this cheerful piano tune begins playing, yet its lyrics are sad. The tune reminds me of the slightly synth-ier “Life on Mars?”. If you can remember how Bowie’s song makes you feel, this song strikes a similar note. And these emotions beat in sync with the heart of S-Town. As each episode is told, the stories of different lives unfold. Some stories make us feel cheerful, some make us lonely, some make us angry, and when Reed plays his cards right, some episodes make us appreciate the extraordinary beauty of these emotions.

This was not the case with episode three of S-Town. Reed takes on the challenge of narrating the death of John B. McLemore, starting from the difficult phone call Reed answers a few days after McLemore passes, to the funeral proceeding and aftermath of his death.

Usually, Reed’s artistic interpretation of events guide listeners’ feelings through S-Town—details like the old clock analogy or Woodstock’s “fuck it” philosophy. This episode lacks the same care. Reed doesn’t reminisce strongly over McLemore’s suicide, doesn’t go into his own feelings dealing with the tragedy, or say much at all on a personal level. Instead, Reed shrinks back to the role of a reporter, telling the stories of Tyler, McLemore’s mom, and the two gold-digging cousins who arrive at McLemore’s property after he dies.

Reed’s closing statement especially bothers me: “[Tyler’s] going to try and fight the cousins the official way, through the courts. But if that doesn’t work, he’ll take matters into his own hands.” For readers listening to episode three, McLemore has just died. This episode, where Skylar breaks news of McLemore’s death, was supposed to be the death episode, and ending this episode focusing McLemore’s estate proceedings was frankly off-putting. It felt like a cheap cliffhanger, like Reed moved on before even closing McLemore’s casket. I can’t understand why Reed wastes the crucial ending lines of this episode like this. Perhaps it was because Reed felt he wasn’t close enough to McLemore, or didn’t have the right to emotionally capitalize on McLemore’s death, or because these thoughts are saved for a later episode. I just wish Reed offered an explanation.

Yet despite how episode three was handled, I still love S-Town, and I’m still curious to learn more. As I discussed in my last post, Reed’s thoughtful storytelling brings Woodstock to life, in all its joys and flaws. Episode two especially paints Woodstock’s inhabitants in such bright and expressive colors. Coupled with Reed’s intelligent narration, episode two was my favorite episode so far.

So much ground is covered here. Reed interviews several townspeople about Kabram’s alleged murder, then interviews Kabram himself. Turns out Kabram didn’t kill anyone, rumors just got out-of-hand—“shit gets fuckin’ twisted,” as Kabram puts it. Can I just talk about these interviews for a second? All of Reed’s interviews with the townspeople are a joy to listen to. They’ve got this heavy Alabama drawl, they cuss mercilessly, and they lead insane lives, so they tell great stories. Kabram’s interview is especially memorable. He starts off talking about this party where everyone’s drinking and doing mad drugs, “like takin’ Xanax and doin’—mixin’ speed with it and stuff.” And then a fight breaks out. This rando Dylan pulls a knife on Kabram’s friend Tim, who gets slashed a 4-inch gash on his neck. Now Tim’s all bloody and dying and has to go to the hospital. “Yes, that is the craziest shit I’ve ever seen in my life,” Kabram laughs. Dylan stabs Kabram, too, in the thigh– “like I almost cut my gooch, mate.” (Kabram gets stitches “near the meat of his gooch,” Reed adds.) The whole interview has great levity from both sides but stays concise thanks to Reed’s overarching narration of events, which weaves seamlessly with the interview.

Reed’s narration weaves seamlessly too between thoughts. Viewers feel like they’re following Reed’s thought process, almost like a retelling of Reed’s memories, because of how naturally he transitions between ideas. When Reed interviews patrons at a tattoo parlor, each set of interviews brings up a new idea. Reed talks about outcasts, and racism, and kindness, and each seemingly meandering point helps readers later understand McLemore’s hatred of Woodstock.

What’s important also is the moments Reed doesn’t speak. He pauses, transitional music drifts in, and readers have a moment to reflect on his words. It’s the audio equivalent of a page break. They make Reed’s words more impactful.

Anyways these thoughts that Reed dwells on make more sense when McLemore expresses his sorrows over the selfish complacency of Woodstock’s townspeople. It’s the selfishness that allows racism to survive, or the complacency to shrug off a near-fatal wound, because “low-down dirty shit like that happens when you hang out with low-down dirty people,” or the indifference to the larger suffering of people around the world. Reed points out that McLemore is hurt by others’ inaction towards suffering and is conversely exhausted from caring so much about this suffering himself. As with episode one, Reed narrates larger themes. All these little bits here and there fit into why McLemore thinks Woodstock is a shit town. We leave S-Town with these thoughts, humming to the offbeat tune of “A Rose for Emily.”

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