Recap of ‘The Diplomat’, Season 2, Episode 6

The diplomat

Dreadnought

Season 2

Episode 6

Editorial review

4 stars

****

Photo: Alex Bailey/Netflix

Well, well, well, I bet you didn’t see that one coming, did you? By ‘that’ I of course mean Lydia Trowbridge who triumphantly returns to a place of influence with her husband Nicol, now that Margaret Roylin is no longer his main unofficial advisor. Why? Does anything important happen in this episode? Decisions made, then unmade, then made again as new information comes to light and alliances shift even more?

I’m kidding, but I mean it too: With Roylin out of the picture and still a guest of the CIA, Trowbridge is damn lucky to have Lydia’s much cooler head to rely on, and his decision to do so is just as good as consequences like the big twist at the end of the episode. Trowbridge knows his luck; he hates that Lydia has advised him to resign to protect the integrity of the investigation into Lenkovian influence within his government, and, as usual, waves it around in the manner of a toddler with an excellent vocabulary and no skills in the field of emotional regulation. They agree that Dennison’s opinion and involvement are crucial, so he comes for a “close the door, sit down” conversation about the future of the government and the investigation and surprises both Trowbridges by (eventually, under duress) ) agree that Nicol should resign. He is entitled to an advisory role, but he cannot be the one to right the ship of the state, and the investigation must be initiated and continued as soon as possible. (For viewers outside Britain, it’s worth noting that stepping down from his role as Prime Minister wouldn’t necessarily mean Trowbridge was out of Parliament altogether. He would most likely retain his seat in the House of Commons as a representative of whichever constituency had chosen him too.)

This big, messy baby reluctantly agrees to consider dismissal, “on the wise counsel of my beloved and my detested,” and stomps away, leaving Lydia and Dennison to sigh. These two still have a lot of hard work ahead of them. I’m not a fan of Trowbridge’s habit of ending conversations he finds awkward by hurling maximum words at everyone else in the room, but I love the little character beat embedded in each of those verbal blizzards; they are linguistically playful and give us a glimpse of the person who probably wanted to continue studying Russian Romanticism and ended up in politics instead (through his mother. Nicol Trowbridge is so Freudian it hurts). He promises, but then fails, to confide in his MI5 contact, Tom, that day to get the ball rolling. This really isn’t an issue that can tolerate Trowbridge’s shame-averse behavior much longer, but Dennison can try to maneuver him back into it tomorrow, I guess?

While Trowbridge indignantly considers resigning from his powerful post, similar conversations are taking place at Winfield. After Hal’s revelation that Grace Penn gave Roylin the bright idea to employ the Lenkov Group, he and Kate indulge in a mild smear of Scotland (inadvisable, IMO), and Kate finally comes to the conclusion that Penn must resign and that she will have to resign. vice president. Given that the Cold War is well ingrained in Kate and Hal’s living memories and in their understanding of both historical and contemporary international concerns about Russian nuclear power, not to mention their very basic knowledge that Scotland is a way to way in the north it’s bizarre that they haven’t managed to connect these dots, which look more like big, flashing red lights. Do they really think this is just about Scottish independence and the dangers it could bring to Western democracy? We will go into this in more detail in due course.

Meanwhile, Stuart’s anniversary day has finally arrived! Out of respect for the many VP staffers in the building, they forgo a giddy hug and start preparing, regardless of whether a formal offer will come soon, if ever. They don’t know the timeline of Penn’s firing, but Stuart now has Kate’s blessing to “do whatever you have to do to resolve this.” Step one of Operation Soup Up and Suit Up is ditching her black-and-charcoal gray suits in favor of a baby blue number paired with a black blouse and baby pink heels, and an amusing conversation with Stuart about the dangers of getting of newspaper and water on its own. Step two is putting her hair up. Penn notices both changes right away and provides helpful advice on hairpins for bun maintenance and knowing when to leave them alone. The understanding between them isn’t just the veneer of friendliness that girl talk provides either; Whatever discomfort, resentment or international conspiracies may exist between them, there is also a powerful urge for mutual respect and enjoyment of each other’s company. It’s fun!

If Trowbridge had not tried to assuage his guilty conscience by convincing President Rayburn to name Penn America’s nuclear czar, this could all have gone smoothly. He clearly knows nothing about Penn and Roylin, and Billie insists she can and will back out of this arrangement. Stuart manages to put the kibosh on Trowbridge and mention the appointment in his dinner toast, but Penn knows Kate had a hand in it, causing Kate to put her cards on the table and prompting Penn to give the lecture of a lifetime keep. By the slimmest of margins, this lecture on the state of Russian nuclear armament and British-American efforts to contain it is the episode’s second best scene. We know that Penn is a gifted, shrewd political operator, and now we get an even more compelling insight into the depth of her knowledge, including the very useful visual aid of a large map dragged in from the foyer of Blenheim Palace. I don’t recall Roylin or Doud previously mentioning the disproportionate importance of Creegan, Britain’s only nuclear base, and the only one in Europe where US nuclear submarines can dock, but it seems quite important! Given Penn’s explanation of Creegan’s outsized strategic importance alone, Trowbridge’s description of her as uniquely qualified to serve as America’s nuclear czar seems accurate.

Penn also undermines Kate’s belief that she would try to evade responsibility for the attack on HMS Brave or that it was a difficult decision. According to Penn, it is a both/and, not an either/or: she believed the risk to human life from the planned attack was low and would entail the horror of having been responsible for the deaths of 43 people. still even believes that tragedy is worth it if it prevents a cataclysmic attack that would be fatal for tens of thousands or even millions more. Penn’s parting shot instructing Kate to keep her eyes on her own paper is revealing: Not only does she want to protect her chances of filling an even more important role than the vice presidency; she believes Kate is already in way over her head as ambassador. Why should she care what actions Kate thinks disqualifies her? She’s not up to the task!

Kate is convinced, or perhaps it is more accurate to say that she is not not convinced. Either way, she’s somewhat chastened and her decision to become VP is once again up in the air. Unsurprisingly, she distrusts Hal’s motives for encouraging her and once again believes Penn should remain as Vice President and, presumably, America’s nuclear czar, rather than be punished. Hal wants Kate to report the situation to Ganon, which is a fair point: this is exactly what Roylin said Kate and Eidra would feel obligated to report. That obligation still exists, and if Kate had been aware of Penn’s advice to Roylin before meeting her, she would have done so immediately.

Hal’s decision to zig when he was supposed to zig — something we should all see happening at every opportunity by then — leads to Rayburn having a fatal heart attack, making Grace Penn the President of the United States, complete with twenty Secret Service agents racing in two sprinting phalanxes toward her across Winfield’s back lawn.

Seconds earlier, Kate failed to convince Penn of this she Penn’s role in the Lenkov debacle has not and will not leak and that she is not still running for vice president (her story: she may be wearing one of her old suits, but she still has vice presidential hair! ). Now Penn is president; Kate is currently still an ambassador, but has lost Dennison as an ally; Trowbridge is still Prime Minister and his secret investigation into a conspiracy within his government has not yet begun; No one in his government knows of Penn’s connection to the attack on HMS Brave. Everything is chaos, and the special relationship between the US and Britain may never have faced a stress test of this magnitude. Season three can’t be here soon enough!

• Speaking of The diplomat‘s third season, here’s my wish list so far: more scenes between Austin Dennison and Nicol and Lydia Trowbridge – what a fascinating study in contrasts they all are; When Stuart finds a place outside the workplace to talk to Eidra about personal matters, or better yet, stops doing so altogether now that they’re broken up, their whole thing is beyond ridiculous; and more funny nicknames for Kate in Penn’s repertoire.

• If it’s not too much trouble, I’d also like Netflix to post a supercut of Keri Russell’s deliveries of “fuck” on YouTube; it’s fun to see an actor sink her teeth into the most versatile word in the English language.

• I close on a more serious analytical note about Dennison’s icy, seemingly final dissolution of every aspect of his partnership with Kate. I think this is primarily caused by his decision to seize the moment in a now Roylin-free government and his view of Kate as a chronic and very messy person. He rejects his earlier attempt to overthrow Trowbridge, and while he may be sincere in that resolution, his reasoning that without Roylin in his ear, Trowbridge is safe from further atrocities is shaky at best (though I fervently hope it doesn’t culminate in great deeds). wobbly jelly territory like poor old Merritt Grove did).