American Horror Story, Season 3, Episode 11: “Protect The Coven”
Directed by Bradley Buecker
Written by Jennifer Salt
Airs Wednesdays at 10:00 PM on FX
With only two episodes left in American Horror Story season three, I fear it is little too late, to elevate Coven past the quality of the Asylum and Murder House.
As the Coven mourns one of their own, Fiona and Marie set up a long-awaited showdown with the witch-hunter corporation – in what is the least interesting subplot of the entire season. I cannot for the life of me understand why The Corporation — who have been hunting witches for hundreds of years – are so easily taken apart. And I could go on about the bit of unnecessary back story, courtesy of Madame Delphine LaLaurie, but that would be a big waste of time. “Protect the Coven” not only does little to advance the plot forward, but tells us nothing we didn’t already know. Meanwhile Cordelia makes a desperate sacrifice to gain the power she needs to protect the Coven from enemies without and within. One week someone loses their sight, the next week they gain it back, only to then take it away once more. I’ve already mentioned time and time again that Coven suffers from not having any stakes. Nobody ever truly feels like they are in danger, and Coven is never, ever the least bit scary. In other words, nothing that happens on Coven has any consequence; characters come and go, die and come back to life, and some just remain dead, but remain capable of human contact, even if in spirit form (I’m looking at you Spalding). Even within this crazy universe, the writers should have established some rules by now – but there are none. However, “Protect the Coven” made something abundantly clear this week: Misty and Nan are undoubtedly missed, and we can only hope they both return, with one claiming the throne of the New Supreme.
– Ricky D
Madison: “You flush my shit, bitch.”
LaLaurie: “Why I had to leave Paris, jewel of civilization, to return to this shithole, I’ll never understand.”
Myrtle: “Madison, you’re the worst kind of Hollywood cliché: a bobble-head with crotchless panties.”
Cordelia’s eye-stabbing scene reminded me of Lucky McKee’s May.
Laveau: “You stupid rube. That ain’t magic. That’s antihistamine.”
Sorry folks, but I need to make my review short this week. I’ll be back with additional thoughts in seven days.