User reviews

I wasn't quite as down on the second season of "American Gods" as was the conventional wisdom - though I'd be hard pushed to argue against the idea that a lack of forward momentum hurt that run. The third season, though still seeming like it's a long way away from the promised cataclysmic battle, does adapt a memorable section from the source novel and regains some of the narrative thrust from the first season.

Moved by prophecies and some unsubtle persuasion from his father, Shadow Moon (Ricky Whittle) heads to Lakeside, an idyllic Wisconsin town heading into a winter season, but tragedy soon follows him. The all father himself (Ian McShane) continues his recruitment drive, starting with death metal legions but then focusing on his great love Demeter (Blythe Danner). Laura Moon (Emily Browning) guilty from the loss of Mad Sweeney attempts to resurrect him, but her plans go awry, and she soon decides on a new goal and makes a dangerous alliance.

Again, the hallmarks of the previous seasons return here in that the show is beautiful to look at, if nothing else. Poetic in its imagery, its foreshadowing and callbacks I'm not sure there's ever been a show that puts as much into its aesthetics. There are performances from the actors to match too. There are a couple of big misses in this run, both Pablo Schreiber and Orlando Jones don't return. Instead there's more time spent with Demore Barnes' Mr Ibis character and the introduction of Ashley Reyes as Wednesday's new assistant Cordelia. Ricky Whittle really is great in this series though, particularly in the last couple of episodes and it's strange to think that just 10 years ago he was still in "Hollyoaks".

Admittedly, it's still fairly slow moving and its pretty brave work to not move the plot along more when a fourth (and presumably, based on where they are in the book, final) season hasn't actually been commissioned. But I really hope they do get the chance to finish the story.

Season one was so great. But the last two seasons just haven't been on the same level. Most of the time the mystery was gone most and the dialogues felt way less smarter, less punchier and less tense. Same with the chemistry between Shadow and Laura.

However, this final really felt like the first season to me. Mysteries unravel, very intriguing dialogues and for the first time since season one, I actually can't wait to see where Shadows and Lauras relationship is going.

Only bad thing is we're probably going to have to wait until 2023 for season four.

So the finale is here and once again it's a let down and seeing as it's lost over 40% of its original viewership from season two it will probably be the last. Sad really as it was excellent at the start, now the chumps give 10/10 for repetition, pointless filler and trying to be salacious. The woke writing and poor direction have made this season just another lame same old series aiming to appease the left, even the visuals seem less potent, another reason why season four will be doubtful.

Instead of the dull filler woke scenes they couldn't have kept the quality level of episodes 9 and 10 all season? You really only need to watch episodes 1, 9 and 10.

Has very low lows but also some very high peaks.

Season 2 was weak , but 3 much better.

The visuals are terrific and so are the characters.

The concept is great.

Makes you want to go on a road trip in roadside atraction america.

Very dissapointed no conclusion to series.

The tenth and final episode of American Gods Season 3, "Tears of the Wrath-Bearing Tree," directed by Russell Lee Fine, serves as an ambitious, enigmatic, and ultimately polarizing culmination to the series' latest arc. Charged with wrapping up not only the immediate consequences of Wednesday's death but also propelling each character toward an uncertain future, the episode balances moments of striking visual poetry with narrative ambiguity-inviting viewers to wrestle with themes of sacrifice, identity, and the manipulation woven by gods and mortals alike.

Set amidst the mournful aftermath of Wednesday's murder, the episode immediately immerses the audience in a world adrift; the gods gather around the corpse, each questioning motive and allegiance, while Shadow, much changed by loss and revelation, assumes his role as his father's heir. The tone is elegiac but tense-every character, from Bilquis to Cordelia, feels the weight of impending transformation or obliteration. The death vigil is punctuated by powerful silent exchanges and laments, showcasing the ensemble's emotional range and the show's willingness to dwell in grief before pivoting to action.

The foundational event is Shadow's fateful decision to honor Wednesday through a vigil on Yggdrasil, the world tree. This act-steeped in Norse myth and foreshadowed by seasons of manipulation-serves both as a test of loyalty and a crucible for Shadow's evolving sense of self. The episode devotes considerable time to Shadow's spiritual ordeal: hallucinations, cryptic visions, and a growing awareness of the profound deception behind his journey. Ricky Whittle's performance is especially potent within these scenes-by turns desperate, confused, and finally accepting, his Shadow is a protagonist who walks willingly into destiny, even as he suspects a trap.

Throughout the vigil, moments of confrontation and introspection multiply. Laura, fleeing authority and guilt-ridden after killing Wednesday, hovers at the margins, witnessing the gods' ritual and the community's ambiguous acceptance of Shadow's fate. Bilquis' arc, meanwhile, dovetails into the episode's theme of interconnectedness-her search for Shadow's true counterpart and her visions hint at a mythology still unfurling. The show excels at creating a sense of the mythic lurking in the mundane, captured in visual motifs-the tree's wrapping tendrils, the flocking ravens, the ever-present Northern sky-that elevate the episode's atmosphere.

As the episode unfolds, the full measure of Wednesday's schemes is revealed. Through a series of dreamlike dialogues and confrontations with spectral versions of Wednesday and the other gods, Shadow (and the viewer) realizes the depth of the Allfather's manipulation. Shadow's sacrifice, it is revealed, has been engineered not merely as a gesture of devotion but as a magical ploy-designed by Wednesday so that his son's death could resurrect his creator and restore his power-a storyline shift from Gaiman's novel that, though controversial, is deftly rendered for the screen. The camera lingers on Whittle's face as comprehension dawns and betrayal sets in, delivering a heartbreak heightened by the episode's lush cinematography and use of shadow-light interplay.

Visually, "Tears of the Wrath-Bearing Tree" is frequently mesmerizing. Director Russell Lee Fine and the cinematography team lean into the series' established palette-deep blues and cold whites punctuated by golden auras during moments of the supernatural. The scenes with Yggdrasil are especially effective: the ancient tree, simultaneously beautiful and terrifying, wraps Shadow in roots as the rest of the world falls away, a depiction hailed even by critical viewers for its mythic resonance and emotional heft. Editing weaves dream logic with grounded drama; the episode's pace is deliberate, allowing tension and sorrow to mingle before the climax.

The ensemble cast meet the episode's dramatic demands with conviction. Ian McShane's absence, after three seasons of dominating the show, is deeply felt, but his shadow-literal and figurative-looms large in every scene. Ricky Whittle rises to the occasion, anchoring the episode as a man undone and remade by destiny. Emily Browning, Ashley Reyes, Yetide Badaki, and Peter Stormare round out the cast with performances that balance pain, skepticism, hope, and anger, offering small but meaningful moments of connection amidst epic narrative stakes.

Critically, the episode has divided audiences. Its decision to foreground Shadow's fate, leaving many side plots unresolved, has led some to view the finale as anticlimactic and incomplete, especially considering its abrupt ending and the lack of closure for characters like Laura, Technical Boy, and Bilquis. Others, however, appreciate the season's commitment to ambiguity-a refusal to offer easy answers that mirrors the series' existential and narrative ambitions. The ending, with Shadow consumed by the tree and Wednesday's body disappearing, accompanied by an ominous storm, is both visually stunning and thematically rich: a literal and metaphorical dissolution, encapsulating the costs of obsession, faith, and familial betrayal.

The episode continues the series' tradition of embedding references-literary, mythological, and artistic-within its framework. The themes of cyclical death and rebirth, central to Norse mythology, are echoed in both the structure and events of the finale. The visual language, particularly the "tears of the wrath-bearing tree," recalls both apocalyptic imagery from cinema and ritual motifs from world literature. At times, the show's penchant for artful ambiguity and meditative pacing aligns it with genre-bending works such as The Leftovers or the dreamlike "road" films of modern American cinema.

While visually arresting, the episode is not without faults. Some critics note a sense of narrative stasis-plotlines gestated throughout the season are left dangling, contributing to a feeling that the series is intentionally evading resolution, perhaps in hope of a future season. Others remark on the awkwardness of integrating complex mythological subplots with more grounded personal stories, citing a lack of coherence and emotional payoff for certain relationships and arcs. Yet, even in its shortcomings, the episode remains faithful to the show's central inquiry: what does it mean to be sacrificed, to believe, to be made god or broken mortal in a land haunted by old legends and new anxieties?

Beyond its immediate story, "Tears of the Wrath-Bearing Tree" stakes a claim for American Gods as a rare work willing to wrestle with the ambiguity of faith and the pain of transformation. The episode, much like the series, asks more questions than it answers, functioning as a meditation on power, complicity, and the seductions of personal and communal myth. Whether this ending frustrates or inspires depends on viewers' tolerance for open endings and unresolved fates; what is certain is its visual, thematic, and performative conviction.

In conclusion, this finale is a paradox: beautiful yet unsettling, narratively audacious yet defiantly incomplete. It demands that its audience linger, reflect, and project forward, refusing the comfort of tidy closure. As Shadow disappears into the tree and the storm brews, the underlying message is clear-a reckoning has occurred, but the aftermath, both human and divine, will require new legends to be written. For all its flaws and daring, "Tears of the Wrath-Bearing Tree" leaves an indelible mark, encouraging its viewers to question the cost of devotion and the dangers lurking within the stories we choose to believe.

There was no need to cliff hanger the last episode of this series. It was a vile and pathetic writer's trick that is beneath the creators of this series, beneath the vast talents of the cast, and far beneath the dignity of the author.

Cheap writers filling time. Bad vision scenes without any revelations or value that seem straight up like a caricatured psychedelic trip. Those ain't visions there "shadow moon" lol those are just straight up delusions. You should probably see a doctor about that.

The whole season felt like it was trying to build towards something but never quite delivered. So the unstated promise was that there would be substantial resolution at the end? If the show thinks it delivered, then it may be as delusional as their so called visions.

Bluntly, this finale is a kick in the jewels, as it does nothing to resolve anything, but merely tries to set itself up with about a dozen cliffhangers to entice another season.

Seriously, the whole season slow burning to build up to cliffhangers for another season? Man, I hate you guys lol

Like, have you ever played with a cat and not let it get the toy even once? The cat kinda goes bonkers and gets weird and aggro and looks at you like maybe if you were not so big and strong things would go a lot different. This is what you are doing. Hire writers that are able to actually let the viewer have some resolution.

To be honest, I don't even care about any of these characters anymore. This is what happens when you run in 36 directions and don't actually give any substance to any of them.

which is too bad because season 1 was very good in this regards, and others.

If some studio execs are so out of original ideas as to fund a fourth season of this, I may watch it out of spite, like the sports team you love to hate.

Surprise me, please! but truthfully, I would not renew this garbage. Or at very least clean house. Change it's momentum.

More of a brief review of the show rather than this one episode. Man I used to think The Walking Dead plodded along. 3 seasons of American Gods and its gone nowhere.

I've been increasingly less interested in following up as the soap opera tropes get trotted out. Let's see if everyone gets a fourth season. I think, given the line I headlined, that SOME of the show-runners are getting tired, probably commenting on the obvious cliff-hanger thrums that either needed trimming or more elegantly carried forward. Like, lean into those Douglas Adams, Pythonesque and Whovian found-objects.