Rag and Bone

“And then one day I woke up and people I knew weren't dying anymore and I was looking at the rest of my life, a life I had not expected to have. A life I was completely unprepared to have. Does any of this make sense?”

[4.7] and that's a wrap on Henry Rios, everyone.

throws a tantrum, thrashes around the kitchen floor, cries, violently chomps on chocolate, retreats to the comfort of being a blanket burrito

after the intensity of The Burning Plain, i half-expected Michael Nava to Tokyo Drift the grand finale into a supernova explosion. instead, he expertly eased his foot on the brakes, just a little, to flip the script and present “Henry Rios” in stark limelight. the culmination of his character arc is encased in overarching themes of family and grief, and of his life-long struggle to reconcile his sexuality with his Mexican heritage. it's finding a renewed sense of direction and purpose in the aftermath of the AIDS epidemic, the calamity that left LA a cemetery.

this is Henry's resurrection.

the noir genre oft paints the world in the bleakest and grayest of tones, but never in my life have i read a tale as life affirming as this one.

it is with a heavy heart that i bid our dear Henry Rios adieu. thank you, Michael Nava, for sharing with us this literary masterpiece. you are a tour de force in every possible sense of the phrase.

⚠️ spoiler territory ⚠️
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- John + Henry = <3 (a match made in heaven, as detected early on by my GA goggles