Not to be dramatic, but I would die for Manousos on ‘Pluribus’
In my 32 years as a passionate TV watcher, I struggle to remember a time when I wanted to pull a Mike Teavee, hop straight into the screen, and put my own life on the line to save a character more than I did while watching Manousos in Pluribus Episode 7.
Since devouring the first seven episodes of Vince Gilligan’s acclaimed Apple TV series in October to write a review, I’ve seen “The Gap” at least six times. Each new viewing unearths more creative brilliance, highlights different facets of Rhea Seehorn and Carlos-Manuel Vesga’s incredible performances, and packs its own powerful gut punch. But without fail, every watch confirms what I suspected since Manousos Oviedo’s (Vesga) on-screen introduction in Episode 4: I would die for that man.
When Zosia (Karolina Wydra) first described a mysterious dude from Paraguay who manages a self-storage facility in Asuncion, speaks Spanish, and was off the hive’s radar for the first 33 hours of the Joining, I admittedly didn’t think much of him. After he hung up in Carol’s face and screamed, “Leave me alone, you sons of bitches,” I was thoroughly intrigued. But I never imagined he’d become such a central part of Pluribus’ story so quickly. And I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.
Over the next two installments, Pluribus offered compelling (albeit limited) glimpses into Manousos’ modest life, his intense distrust in The Others, and his psyche. As he diligently scanned the radio and recorded his findings in a notebook, we learned he’s curious and committed. When he searched the storage facility for food and packed for his road trip, he proved he’s resourceful. In coldly pushing his mother’s meals to the ground and calling her a bitch, he let viewers know he had attitude and unpacked trauma. (Relatable!) But in small ways — from savoring unappetizing morsels of food and writing an apology note to his tenants, to letting a wave of hope wash over his face while watching Carol’s video — Vesga skillfully showed flashes of his character’s softer side.
Despite the knowledge that Manousos contained multitudes, I was emotionally unprepared for just how hard his resolve and rare, refreshing decency would hit me in Episode 7.
As a whole, “The Gap” is a masterfully meditative look at two wildly different, perfectly paralleled journeys. But when the spotlight shines on Manousous, his arduous trek to New Mexico exposes his true character. As he drives his yellow MG Midget through winding roads, old towns, and tricky terrain, he stops to siphon gas from abandoned cars and does the unthinkable. He leaves money under the windshield wipers in a sign of respect to the humans who once owned them. The needlessly kind, deeply human gesture in the midst of Pluribus’ nightmarish new normal made me squeal. And the subsequent reveal that he was passing the time by practicing his English skills to better communicate with Carol brought tears to my eyes. (You KNOW “The world is big” nearly took me out.)
Despite his tough travel conditions, Manousos kept his eye on the prize and his spirits high. (He even brushed his teeth, shaved, and gave himself a haircut so he looked more presentable for his fellow Old Schooler. *Sob*) When he reached the dangerous Darién Gap and The Others begged him to accept their help, he finally gave them a piece of his mind, explaining, “Nothing on this planet is yours. Nothing. You cannot give me anything, because all that you have is stolen. You don’t belong here.” My sincere apologies, but has anyone ever been hotter?
After a scene so satisfying, I didn’t think my fondness for Manousos could grow much stronger, but with 17 words, Pluribus proved me wrong again: “My name is Manousos Oviedo. I am not one of them. I wish to save the world.”
To remind himself of his mission, my man repeated that moving motto aloud while navigating the deadly jungle. And let me tell you, I lost it. I blubbered. I shouted “I LOVE HIM” alone in my living room. When Manousos fell backwards and was impaled by bacteria-laden chunga palm spines, he and I screamed in unison. And when he collapsed to the forest floor, whispering “Carol Sturka,” an all too familiar dread — reserved only for those pitch black moments when evil triumphs over good — crept over me. Mind you, we’ve barely spent three episodes with this lionheart. So that deep connection is a testament to Pluribus’ superb storytelling and Vesga’s ability to craft a lovable character using physical actions in lieu of dialogue.
When describing Manousos in Pluribus production notes, Vesga said, “I get the feeling that he has lost a lot in his life and is not willing to lose anything else.” So I pray that one day, Pluribus sheds light on formative events that shaped him into the glorious man we met. Even without his backstory, we know that Manousos treasures his autonomy so deeply that he would rather eat dog food and torch his beloved car accept help from the hive. He clings to individuality by bucking the new system at any cost, even if it means risking his own life. He’s not afraid to get tough, but he’s feisty, not ferocious. He’s a badass with a gentle soul; a man of unwavering integrity and a whole lot of heart. He’s the exact type of hero our world needs more of, and that’s why he leaves such an imprint.
As much as it pains me to see Manousos in pain, I have faith that his treacherous Episode 7 journey will only leave him more determined to set the world right. And if he ever does meet Carol, I can’t wait to see their dynamic. As a longtime fan of the Gilliverse, I obviously have faith in Gilligan’s vision, but having witnessed so many deaths in Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul, I also feel a duty to stress that if Pluribus ever makes our wholesome warrior meet that same fate, there will be hell to pay.
New episodes of Pluribus premiere Fridays on Apple TV.
