Evil 4×04 “How to Build a Coffin” finally explains why we often have difficulty describing how good this series is: Something out there is obviously stealing our words. And while this episode explores that particularly evil something that feeds off our ability to express ourselves, it also features a second bit of evil lurking about. And it’s that second one — the one that claims to be “just a little pet,” the one that isn’t quite so massive and can therefore easily hide itself — that we should fear the most.
We are, of course, talking about the demon of grief. (Tommy, if you’d like to use his preferred name.) This second, smaller demon causes far more damage beneath the surface than the parasite causes out in the open. Perhaps fittingly, then, it’s a supporting character — our dear Sister Andrea — who steals the show, providing this particular hour of the series’ true heart and soul.
Sure, the assessment bit and the big ol’, nasty parasite provide plenty of entertainment and fantastic (as always) performances from our three leads. But what goes on behind the scenes, beneath the surface…well…the parasite stole our ability to describe how good it all is in simple terms. That’s most certainly appropriate, considering grief and regret themselves are often painfully difficult to express, as well. Let’s see if we can’t figure out a long-winded and roundabout way…
Oh! But before we get started: As always, it’s “WTF why has no one saved this show yet” from us.
“How to Build a Coffin”
Evil 4×04 definitely gets its message across through Sister Andrea’s demon fighting, which is as wildly entertaining as ever. But for as much fun as her chasing down demons and battling it out with them is, and for as wildly hilarious as everyone else’s reaction to her is, this episode doesn’t fool anyone. Because what we can actually take away from “How to Build a Coffin” is a beautiful, bittersweet message about what happens when we don’t deal with our grief. Just as the “pet” demon quite literally does with Father Ignatius, the emotion can eat at you — feel like it’s ripping out and discarding your very guts — whether you acknowledge it or not. It’s also something that, far too often, we attempt to minimize, say it’s unimportant in the face of other, larger problems. Just as “Tommy” himself does in “How to Build a Coffin.”
And while grief’s most well-known form comes about when we lose someone to death, it has many, many other manifestations. Take, for example, Sister Andrea’s internal suffering. Her small things that eat at her, if you will. For her, it’s about the what ifs, the perceived failures, a broken heart. But it’s being confronted, directly, with all of that pain — not completely burying it — that Andrea’s able to realize what we’re all dealing with here. Not just realize it, no. Beat it.
Or…that’s probably not quite the right word either. After all, grief isn’t something we ever completely defeat. But Andrea is able to gather herself up, go take down another demon in that totally BAMF way we’ve come to know and love her for, and then have the most unexpectedly quiet, moving conversation with Father Ignatius. To help him ease his burden just enough to make it easier to carry, to stop it from continuing to eat and eat away at him until there’s nothing left.
Throughout the entirety of Evil 4×04, Andrea Martin absolutely shines. Sure, we could go on forever about how we have no choice but to stan her for all the usual reasons: those action sequences (shears in hand! Choppy-choppy!) against the demon that steals everyone’s words, for how unapologetically hilarious and weird her performance is, at times, as others see her without seeing what she’s actually seeking and/or fighting. (Because, well, obviously. Forever stan!) But it’s in the quiet moments that Martin utterly devastates us — first, as we learn about what Sister Andrea gave up to live a life that can sometimes feel futile and, later, as Andrea speaks with Ignatius about Monsignor Korecki. That is when Martin…just…delivers.
Everything, from the way her face becomes the embodiment of what it is to experience a great loss during that demon’s speech, to the choked up delivery on “you’re the demon of grief” in a voice that is tiny compared to what we’re used to from the character, to the outpouring of empathy opposite Wallace Shawn — who has his own opportunity to break an audience here — is picture perfect. Martin portrays, in the purest sense, what it is to feel these things, to recognize them in someone else and offer to help lighten their load for just a few moments.
What a gift, getting to see this character who is so often the comic relief (see also: epic shear-wielding battle with the parasite) — and always at the center of the supernatural elements of this series — share in something so painfully, beautifully, human and real. And to have someone with Martin’s skill doing all the heavy lifting while making it appear so effortless…it’s unbearably, indescribably powerful but in the most bittersweet and understated of ways. (See, this is us just throwing adjectives around and hoping they all add up to enough. But they won’t.)
Are we seriously supposed to just let this series go without a fight?
On fatherhood
One thing Leland Townsend will never understand is love. More important to how Evil 4×04 turns out, he will never understand anything at all about parenthood — specifically, in this case, fatherhood and the potential it has to create a very deep, very powerful sort of love. Now, before we get started, let’s acknowledge that word: Potential. Because, as we see with Leland himself — hilariously and evilly so, in a way only Michael Emerson can pull off — he is completely ill-equipped to be the parent of any child, whatsoever. Yes, that includes even his own demon spawn. He calls the baby “it,” runs and hides from him, and only enlists Sheryl’s help with all the crying and projectile vomiting because of how it affects him — not the baby.
So, yeah. We’re not at all going to sit here and pretend like the connection between a parent and a child is instant —like it kinda, sorta was with Kristen, even against her will, last episode — or that all fathers are perfect. Because, uh, no. That would be erasing people’s experiences, and we try very hard not to be about that. However. With all that being said, it’s exactly because Leland has no concept of love, no concept of that connection between a father and his child, that he sorely overplays his hand. On multiple levels.
First off, as we’ve already touched on, Leland finds himself reduced to nothing more than a whining, pathetic mess in the face of utterly normal infant behavior. Later, he takes the heartbroken words of a terrified mother far too literally and forms a disaster of a plan in the process. When he hears Kristen’s grieving over the potential death of Laura, her irrational thought that maybe if she had another baby right away she could “handle the void,” he thinks that means orchestrating the child’s death now will be easy. Not just easy to do that but then, to replace her with…the antichrist, apparently.
Of course, he’s apocalyptically wrong. And he’s so arrogant, so convinced he has total control over Andy, he doesn’t even notice the other man’s ever so tiny ability to resist his trance as he’s being instructed on how to kill his own daughter. So, that leads directly to Leland losing any control or upper hand he may have had. (Or thought he had, at least.) And it all comes about through…just a stellar performance from Patrick Brammall, as a father faced with a task that’s simultaneously impossible to complete and impossible to resist.
Right from the start, that performance quality is undeniable. Case in point: As Leland gives Andy his orders, Andy may be frozen…but Brammall’s eyes still portray so much soul. So much — to stay on theme with the episode — grief. From there, we continue to see how the struggle plays out. When Andy puts on a happy mask for his daughters during their bedtime story, he is, when no one else (but us) is looking, already at war with himself. And, again, we witness that internal battle as he holds that needle over Laura’s foot, as his expression morphs from that of being stuck in the trance, to determination, to pure emotion.
Eventually, Andy wins. He injects himself, not Laura. And the whole thing happens in near silence, thus elevating what was already phenomenal work. And, really, you know Brammall absolutely nailed it because even someone who is typically like “ok but get rid of Andy already. David’s the one” got stabbed right in the feels here. (Hi. “Someone” here.)
At the end of Evil 4×04, when Kristen is trying to make sense of what has just happened and already broken-hearted over what she believes is her husband’s substance abuse, Andy makes another unbearable choice. He tells Kristen he has to leave — to get far away from the family so he doesn’t hurt anyone. And, of course, she doesn’t get it. (How could she, even if she knew what Leland and her own mother had set in motion?) All she sees is Andy being totally messed up, nearly dying, and wanting to leave her — again. So, yeah. It’s an unbearable choice for Andy because he has to break Kristen’s heart, break the girls’ hearts as well, and the whole experience is certainly breaking his own. But at least it has the potential to keep the people he loves, above all — his daughters — safe. That’s what matters most.
And, again, that’s something Leland could never have expected. Because it’s a feeling he’s incapable of ever having, much less understanding in others, in the first place.
And speaking of Leland’s epic fails…
We can’t end our discussion of Evil 4×04 without drawing attention to our beloved Evil Grandma, Sheryl. Right from the moment a completely-out-of-his-depth Leland calls her for help, she is so completely in control. And we are absolutely, one hundred percent, here for it. Put a woman — any woman, really, but especially one like Sheryl — under a (literal) glass ceiling. Silence her, mock her, try to hold her back any way you think you can. And you will still lose. She will still have all the real power. Period.
Christine Lahti is as fantastic as ever, as Sheryl smirks and chuckles her way through demanding a quid pro quo. Then, when she shows up to Leland’s place and gets down to business, she is just that — all business. Everything about how she moves through the space, how she demands to know “what the hell” from Leland, how she slams that hand down on the tub, is utterly golden. And, well, it’s quite fascinating that all of this occurs in parallel to Sister Andrea’s story. Not just because the tones are so very different…but because it really, truly does not matter the setting. The woman who is dismissed as insignificant, or “unbalanced,” or too emotional — or any other thing men use as an excuse to do the dismissing — is always going to be the one who’s expected to swoop in and save the day.
The key difference between Andrea and Sheryl is that Sheryl takes advantage of her situation and uses it to gain even more power, whereas Sister Andrea doesn’t. If being a little bit selfish and (maybe a lot) cunning is what puts you on the bad guys’ side as opposed to being “good,” I’m…gonna have to go with evil, personally.
More on Evil 4×04
- JENNY PARK OF SUN VALLEY, UTAH SKIPPED THE INTRO AND LOST ALL HER HAIR
- If that mobile was for sale, I’d buy one…and I neither have nor want kids.
- Ah, yes. Remember when Kristen cracked up over the mere thought of Leland having to take care of a baby? Someone should let her know her that 1) she was right, and 2) he’s even more pathetic than she could’ve imagined.
- Now that’s what I call projectile vomit.
- “Is Twitter a good financial investment? No. But is it good for our bottom line? Yes. And is Musk good for our bottom line?” TFW you make even the antichrist barf.
- “…talk about what the Lord means. By service.” And Sister Andrea is unimpressed AF. (Same.)
- “One thing I’ve found is it doesn’t matter if I’m ready.” A line.
- “I think the best thing to do is just…focus on work.” Ok, Dana Scully.
- On the one hand, WTF to the djinn for trying to get Ben to lust after Kristen, when she’s already both married and…whatever that other situation is. But on the other, I mean, taste is taste.
- Every single line delivery from everyone when they butt up against a missing word: Yes. This cast is too talented.
- “We don’t usually end up giving an exorcism.” “Yeah. We do. Kristen usually ends up thinking it’ll work as a placebo effect. And I just…well. We just punt on…whatever scientific explanation I have.” “No, we don’t.” First of all, between the Kristen thing and this exchange, is the djinn trying to drive a wedge between David and Ben? If so, WTF WHY. Second, love how Mike Colter’s last line here is very much delivered like “now WTF is your crazy ass going on about.”
- Leland’s “noooo!!!” is legit me when someone tries to wake me up.
- “YOU CAN’T JUST STUFF A BABY IN A CLOSET!!!” A very serious show about good and evil, faith and reason…
- “How did men ever convince women that we’re the emotional ones?” GO THE F*CK OFF EVIL GRANDMA.
- “FIRST STOP WHINING” !!!!
- “The, uh, thingy.” Every single time Kristen forgets a word and Katja Herbers snaps those fingers…yes. Just yes.
- And then, we have Colter with the furrowed brows and his eyes tracking back and forth like he is literally searching for his words. Yes.
- “Who are you, the demon of bad breath?” And then, the way she is caught when David shows up. So freakin’ good!
- The shot of Ben looking rough after a sleepless night is pure art. Same goes for the utterly and completely weary way Aasif Mandvi lays his head back when he still can not drown out the qareen’s suggestions.
- “I —I…don’t know…but something is happening, and…I don’t have the words.” Yes, there’s a whole demon stealing words in Evil 4×04 and all, but no, I don’t think that’s all that’s fueling Ben’s difficulty with speech here. It’s like he really, truly is dealing with something he can’t explain. The most uncertain Ben has probably ever been?
- (Also: Me when I fail at expressing just how much I love every single detail about these episodes.)
- “Ever since the pandemic…” Can not roll my eyes hard enough at acting like this is purely in the past, especially when Dr. Boggs makes every excuse in the book for the lowered test scores except the very well-documented way this virus can damage the brain. Exhausting.
- “Wow, so we’re all just gonna get dumber and dumber until we’re, uh…completely…” Pretty much!
- “COULD YOU SHUT UUUUUPPPP” Relatable.
- The shadows in the scene when Leland plays the recordings. Yes. Art.
- “You said like a rat.” “…I don’t know what that meant.” Comedy.
- “There are two of them. It’s best to handle them one at a time. Or they gang up on you.” Me: [nods at Andrea’s plan for attacking problems and emotions]. Also me: [does not actually divide and conquer like this in real life].
- Between Sheryl’s “glass ceiling” and…basically everything about “Tommy,” really…this season is really going hard and obvious on its symbolism. And yet, it never feels contrived or forced because these writers know what they’re doing. Wild. In less-skilled hands, this would all be so laughably bad. Instead, it’s just…absurdly good.
- “Well, you only need one word. Stupid.” She’s right.
- Kinda digging the nerdy pillow talk, not gonna lie.
- “I’m about futility. I’m about your life being meaningless.”
- “He has no other comforts. His grief. Is his comfort.” Is he talking about Louis de Pointe du Lac, or am I mixing up my fandoms again???
- “Sometimes, pain is what sustains us!” No, but literally. Which of these writers is an Anne Rice stan? Like, this is so coded toward my favorite passage from Cry to Heaven.
- Absolutely love bedtime stories with Mama Kristen. And Katja Herbers is just…legit these girls’ second mommy. Fight me.
- “Sleep tight! You’ll probably have nightmares!” I just have this line next to “a;solkdfjds” (yes, in bold) in my notes.
- I’m very much a girl that is an easy sucker for some good daddy-daughter stuff, so just right in the guts. Especially after Laura’s sweet, little “best daddy” bit before bed.
- The use of silence building up to, and immediately following, that injection. Oof.
- “I miss him.” “I miss him, too, but I don’t want to talk about it.” Sometimes, this is ok! …but sometimes, you have to.
- “He was insufferable that way!” This hits. When you love and miss someone, sometimes, the laughing about the “insufferable” things they did is the only way to cope and, eventually, begin to heal.
- Also: Wallace Shawn’s cackle.
- This episode was another disgustingly missed opportunity for an “inconceivable!” though. Rude as always.
- “We’re afraid of hurting.” “But you know what’s funny? I’m hurting. But it makes me smile.” Oh, hey. Same! Absolutely wrecked, even putting this line in this here bullet point.
- The hug, the shot of Ignatius — still weighed down but not nearly as much — after…gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. I can not say so enough.
- “…tell David to pray?” And her voice is so small.
- Also: So much for the whole no more church thing.
- The gore everywhere. Andrea’s satisfied, blissed-out grin. Mmmhm. That’s my show!
- Everything Herbers does at the end. Yes.
- …but rude that we’ve ended a couple episodes in a row with Kristen so very, very hurt.
Thoughts on Evil 4×04 “How to Build a Coffin”? Leave us a comment!
New episodes of Evil stream Thursdays on Paramount+. (And for the love of all that is holy — or demonic…take your pick — someone save this show already.)
THIS SEASONS EVIL REVIEWS
- ‘Evil’ 4×01 Review: “How to Split an Atom”
- ‘Evil’ 4×02 Review: “How to Train a Dog”
- ‘Evil’ 4×03 Review: “How to Slaughter a Pig”
- ‘Evil’ 4×04 Review: “How to Build a Coffin”
- ‘Evil’ 4×05 Review: “How To Fly an Airplane”
- ‘Evil’ 4×06 Review: “How To Dance in Three Easy Steps”
- ‘Evil’ 4×07 Review: “How To Dress A Wound”
