Recap of Episode 6 of ‘Zero Day’: The Bipartisan Liberation Front

In an attempt to overlook distractions and work together to accomplish tasks for the benefit of the nation, a bipartisan collection of lawmakers collaborates with a tech magnate and a financier without mentioning the parties they represent. They launch a cyberattack that disrupts transportation, communication, and power throughout the USA, resulting in the loss of thousands of lives. The blame is aimed at those considered to be on the political extremes of both sides, according to Dreyer, with one side being described as conspiracy theorists and the other as individuals focused on pronoun usage, portraying both as equally negative. Additionally, Russia seems to be temporarily implicated in the plot along with attempts to fault both the Proud Boys and the alleged extremists from local high school Gay-Straight Alliance.

The plotters aim to exploit the turmoil to execute an unconstitutional power takeover through a commission established to uncover the conspirators, with the commission, like the scheme itself, planned to be overseen by Speaker of the House Richard Dreyer. Their plans would have succeeded if not for the intervention of the Mullens!

Congresswoman Alex Mullen, turned rogue, alongside her loyal father George, plays a crucial role in dismantling the conspiracy, albeit from an insider position. She discloses her wrongdoing to her father in a scenario reminiscent of nostalgic daydreams, where the rebellious child seeks comfort in her father’s arms and explicitly states, “Instruct me on what to do, and I will comply.” It takes him some time to devise a plan, primarily due to nearly everyone else on the scene—President Mitchell, Speaker Dreyer, and his own wife—advising him to conceal the truth about the conspiracy in the interest of the nation and their family. After all, treason is a punishable crime. (Haha. Lol.)

A gold star for you if you correctly guessed that he does the right thing, again with his daughter’s help. By leaving behind a letter confessing her guilt and announcing her intention to turn herself in, she gives George the political cover he needs to get on national television and name names. Maybe the Proteus neurological weapon was real, or maybe it was just a weird bit of debris he found in his bird feeder, but ultimately it’s telling the truth that quiets the “Who Killed Bambi?” noises in his head. He realizes it’s what his late son would have wanted him to do.

The series ends on an ambiguous note, though I’m not sure if it’s meant to. On the one hand, the final shot is of George alone (albeit with his dog), looking out over the water, his face an inscrutable mask of steely De Niroishness. But the music is all heroic horns and strings, and the sun shines gold upon him. I suppose the idea is he’s suffered terrible losses, and, you know, tortured someone for hosting a tv show he disliked, but in the end he did he right thing, and this is the kind of man America needs.

This is not the kind of show America needs. It does an active disservice to the body politic to misdiagnose its problems and their architects as badly as Zero Day does, even if in the end it’s just a classier Olympus Has Fallen. I’m sorry, but fascism and trans people are not equivalent threats. Neither are the Oathkeepers and the DSA. Neither are unaccountable billionaires and people protesting outside the homes of government officials. And at no point are Mike Johnson and Ayanna Pressley going to team up to do anything, let alone collude with Tim Cook to install a centrist dictatorship under Mike Johnson’s control for some reason. You hear how stupid this all sounds? Please tell me you hear how stupid this all sounds!

But even if you think demanding a political thriller have a brain in its head is too much to ask, calling a show out for assembling an incredible cast and then squandering it is certainly fair play. Joan Allen and Connie Britton, relegated to playing not one but two Concerned Wife types for Robert De Niro’s grandfatherly Dudley Do-Right. Angela Bassett and Bill Camp stranded in thankless supporting roles. Matthew Modine giving the kind of supervillain speeches Alan Moore dunked on in Watchmen almost forty years ago. Gaby Hoffman? Blink and you’ll miss her. Dan Stevens seemed to be having fun, at least, but he always does. 

And as ferociously watchable as Lizzy Caplan is, I couldn’t help but wish, when she had her big screaming match with De Niro in this episode, they were screaming about literally anything else than Zero Day. About the only actor who got material worth their time on set is Jesse Plemons, whose character was both compromised and complex; Plemons invested him with the squirrelly, Coen Brothers energy of a man in way over his head and only just beginning to realize he can’t swim. 

But that is very thin gruel for a political thriller that fails as both a political text and — oh, right, I almost forgot — as a thriller. Were you thrilled at any point after the opening episode, when the closing sequence re-ran the opening sequence to reveal George’s mental condition? Or were you just kind of watching a bunch of terrific actors be tense in rooms with TVs with Wolf Blitzer on them? An astonishing array of actors, assembled for the equivalent of a bad 1970s all-star disaster movie about which people will say “It wasn’t as good as The Towering Inferno.” The American people, as they do in so very many ways, deserve better.

Sean T. Collins (@theseantcollins) writes about TV for Rolling Stone, Vulture, The New York Times, and anyplace that will have him, really. He and his family live on Long Island.