FluxVlog

As much as I enjoyed Atlanta’s farcical, Afro-futuristic departure last week, there’s nothing like spending time with our main guys, who are usually up to nothing—and Van, who’s now been roaming around Europe by herself for six days and is only present in this episode via a thumbs-up emoji sent through text.

“Cancer Attack,” written by Jamal Olori, is refreshingly basic in plot and classically sitcom-y with wall-to-wall laughs. It’s a 30-minute whodunit episode of Law and Order over the whereabouts of Al’s cellphone, which goes missing at a show. The culprits could either be a cancer-stricken kid from the Make-A-Wish foundation, a 31-year-old Paper Boi stan posing as a 19-year-old stage manager, his aloof uncle or Socks, who’s apparently joined the boys’ entourage. The answer becomes pretty obvious rather quickly. But the journey is still fun.

The episode begins with an agitated Earn running around backstage at a venue in Budapest where Paper Boi is about to perform, checking for last-minute technical issues and demanding ginger ale. There’s a slight tension between Earn and Al as they talk backstage. Al is puzzled by Earn’s uptight disposition and points out that he’s “busy all the time,” despite the fact that Earn is doing work for him. Socks is also backstage being that white guy from college who follows around a bunch of Black dudes and makes his joggers sag. And Darius, who is really just Kramer on acid at the point, is excited about the original blueprint he found of the venue.

Suddenly, a white child in a wheelchair and his parents show up to meet Paper Boi on behalf of the Make-A-Wish Foundation. As much as this show is about the inner workings of the music industry, it also paints an accurate portrait of rap’s most enthusiastic consumers in a post-streaming world, which, today, are often white youth bumping either Travis Scott or Pop Smoke at their college parties. Likewise, it’s funny that this 8- or 9-year-old Hungarian child’s dying wish is to meet Paper Boi while his music hardly impresses Black college students in his hometown of Atlanta.

After taking some photos with the boy, Al heads to the stage where the dubious “stage manager” named Wiley (Samuel Blenkin) is hyping up the crowd in an extremely Caucasian fashion before Earn angrily orders him off. Once again, we don’t see Paper Boi actually perform, which I think benefits the show. I’m imagining a much less interesting version of this series where the writers are concerned with whether or not Paper Boi is actually this magnetic performer or depict his journey to becoming a better artist. Al’s consistent misfortune is only truly funny because we can assume he’s not an exceptional rapper or can see that he’s not particularly driven. Likewise, the camera cuts to Darius doing some silly, exaggerated shoulder dance while Paper Boi raps.

Speaking of which, Darius has increasingly become this show’s “comic relief,” with little characterization beyond being an easily distracted puppy. And it’s time for some new tricks. Yes, Darius has always had an aloof, no-fucks-given attitude on this show, but it’s gone to a place over the last two seasons that feels a little redundant and over the top. And the moments where LaKeith Stanfield is obviously going for a laugh are conversely less funny amid the show’s more naturally occurring humor.

Anyway, after the show’s over, Al discovers his phone is missing, and we can only assume it has some proof of illegal activity. Earn and Al deduce that Wiley, who’s left the venue, might have taken it. And Earn goes to his uncle, who’s in charge of the venue, to get his phone number.

When they try to politely lure Wiley back to the venue, Socks grabs the phone and threatens to hunt Wiley down and kill him if he doesn’t come back, exclaiming he’s the “white Liam Neeson.” Whether this is a reference to action-star Liam Neeson or real-life vigilante Liam Neeson is up for interpretation. However, this leads to Brian Tyree Henry delivering the obvious response—“Fucking Liam Neeson is already fucking white!”—in the funniest tone.

When Wiley returns to the venue, we get a hilarious interrogation scene that instantly reminded me of the unsettling and subtly comical interactions between Colin Farrell, Nicole Kidman and Barry Keoghan in the The Killing of a Sacred Deer. Like Keoghan, Blenkin is proficient at playing an understated menace. He immediately strikes you as some ancillary character from the Harry Potter franchise, and it turns out he, indeed, played Scorpius Malfoy in the West End production of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child.

“However, this leads to Brian Tyree Henry delivering the obvious response—“Fucking Liam Neeson is already fucking white!”—in the funniest tone.”

Throughout this cross-questioning, you can’t tell if Wiley is earnest in his unhealthy obsession with Paper Boi or if he’s being a complete smart-ass and purposely playing mind games, especially when he ponders what it would be like to die at his favorite rapper’s hands. He asks Al what he dreams of and Earn if he gets told that he speaks like a white person. When he starts speaking in fancy prose to Al about being pricked by a thorn on a rose, Al realizes that he’s referring to unreleased music on his phone about his ex-girlfriend named Rose, who cheated on him in high school.

Now certain Wiley has his phone, Al tries the standard technique of appealing to his emotions, hoping he’ll crumble and hand over the device. He says that he was struggling to write music until, one day, he encountered a kid singing on the bus and joined in, which helped him find his voice again. He says that he recorded the impromptu music session on his phone and that he needs it to keep making music. Wiley’s response is to ask Al if he knows that they share the same birthday and that a girl named Rose also broke his heart. He then pulls out a guitar and starts singing a fake Hozier song, surprisingly well. After almost being strangled by Al and letting out a deadly fart, he tells Al that he hopes he finds his phone and leaves.

For obvious reasons, Al, Earn and Darius don’t call the cops or try to accost Wiley any further. The episode ends with everyone getting back on the tour bus and heading off to the next location. Van finally responds to Earn’s texts asking if she’s okay and sends him a thumbs-up emoji. It’s also revealed that Socks not-so-shockingly took Al’s phone before he throws it in the trash. The only shocking part is that none of the guys thought this random white dude they just met a week ago would be capable of stealing it.

With this “surprise” ending, I’m slightly worried that we’re now going to have to be invested in this Socks character, whose presence hasn’t been that amusing. Additionally, Van embarking on this solo, self-actualizing journey (the details of which we still don’t have access to) also feels a little too convenient for this show, which will always be interested in men and depicting masculinity, first and foremost—which is fine. But it’s clear that the writers think they’re getting away with sidelining Van’s character by giving her this moment of introspection off-camera. However, it doesn’t work if we’re not seeing it.

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