For five gripping seasons, The Mentalist captivated audiences with the burning question: who was Red John? Patrick Jane, portrayed brilliantly by Simon Baker, dedicated his sharp intellect and observational skills to hunting down this elusive serial killer, the phantom menace who tragically murdered his wife and daughter. Red John wasn’t just a killer; he was a sinister mastermind, a puppet master pulling strings from the shadows, outwitting Jane and law enforcement at every turn. He commanded a terrifying influence, leading a vast network of followers, from devoted cult members to corrupt officials, all seemingly hypnotized by his will.
For years, viewers theorized, speculated, and eagerly awaited the moment when Red John’s mask would finally be ripped off. The anticipation was immense, the build-up legendary. And then, in a climactic episode, the revelation came. The identity of Red John was unveiled… and for many, it landed with a resounding thud.
Red John was Sheriff Thomas McAllister, a seemingly unremarkable, even bumbling, character who had appeared as early as the second episode of the series. This seemingly innocuous figure, played by Xander Berkeley, was the man behind the elaborate schemes, the terrifying murders, and the psychological torment of Patrick Jane. The reveal itself was anticlimactic: a casual conversation, a series of questionable decisions from a supposed criminal genius, and a swift, almost underwhelming death. The end.
Sheriff McAllister, revealed as the notorious serial killer Red John, in a scene that left many viewers of The Mentalist in disbelief.
The initial reaction for some might have been shock, even a degree of satisfaction at finally seeing Jane confront his nemesis. However, upon reflection, the Red John reveal episode, titled “Red John,” exposes a deeper sense of disappointment, highlighting missed opportunities and a narrative arc that ultimately faltered under the weight of its own mystery.
The Identity Crisis: Why Sheriff McAllister Fell Flat
The problem with Red John’s identity wasn’t Xander Berkeley’s performance, nor was it Sheriff McAllister as a character in isolation. The issue was the sheer scale of expectation built up over five seasons. As Morgan Freeman’s character wisely states in the film Seven, a mysterious serial killer can rarely live up to the audience’s imagination. This holds doubly true for a television series that stretches the mystery across hundreds of hours.
Once The Mentalist confined the Red John suspect pool to Jane’s list, a degree of deflation was almost inevitable. With the exception of the intriguing cult leader Bret Stiles, the suspects were, by and large, ordinary characters. The show itself seemed to acknowledge this potential letdown, with Jane even expressing his own disappointment at Red John’s identity in the episode. However, the actual level of disappointment far exceeded mere mild deflation.
In an interview, The Mentalist creator Bruno Heller made a startling admission: the identity of Red John was not decided until relatively late in the series’ run, “sometime within the last couple of years” before the reveal. This revelation casts a stark light on the convoluted and often illogical nature of the Red John storyline. For seasons, the writers were dropping Red John clues without a concrete destination in mind. This is a critical flaw for a show built on mystery. The central enigma, the driving force of the narrative, was essentially a blank space for a significant portion of the series.
Heller claimed to have a backstory for Red John, filling in plot holes retrospectively. But without the core element – the who – the backstory feels hollow. Knowing Red John’s favorite color or secret lair becomes irrelevant when his fundamental identity remains undefined for so long. This lack of pre-planned identity explains Red John’s seemingly supernatural ability to be everywhere and do anything. He was a nebulous entity, a collection of red herrings and misdirection, ultimately resolved with the arbitrary selection of a minor character. “Oh hell, let’s just have Red John be that guy,” as the original article aptly puts it.
Patrick Jane finally comes face-to-face with Red John, now revealed to be Sheriff McAllister, in a confrontation that lacked the anticipated tension.
The choice of McAllister was not just underwhelming; it was compounded by his utter lack of presence once unmasked. Berkeley, a capable actor known for roles in 24, was given little to work with. Heller attempted to preempt criticism by suggesting that mysterious villains are inherently disappointing, comparing them to the Wizard of Oz – less interesting once the curtain is pulled back. He argued that expecting a Sean Connery-esque villain with “horns and a tail” was unrealistic.
However, this argument ignores the pantheon of compelling villains in popular culture. Hannibal Lecter, John Doe (Seven), Norman Bates, Moriarty from BBC’s Sherlock, and even Joe Carroll from The Following all demonstrate that villains can be captivating and charismatic. Even within The Mentalist itself, the fake Red John portrayed by Bradley Whitford in season 3 was arguably more chilling and convincing than the actual Sheriff McAllister.
The season 3 food court confrontation with the fake Red John could have served as a more impactful conclusion to the Red John arc. Dragging out the mystery for two more seasons, only to reveal an unremarkable and ultimately disappointing Red John, feels like a narrative misstep. The climax, structurally mirroring the season 3 encounter – a brief conversation followed by Jane killing “Red John” – underscores the pointlessness of the extended mystery. The decision to prolong the Red John storyline likely stemmed from a fear of losing the show’s central intrigue, a fear that ultimately undermined the narrative’s resolution.
The Anticlimactic Capture: A Missed Opportunity for a True Rivalry
The resolution of the Red John storyline mirrored the procedural format of The Mentalist itself: reveal the killer, capture or kill them swiftly. While this formula worked for weekly cases, it felt jarringly inadequate for a five-season-long narrative arc. If McAllister was to be Red John, the show would have benefited from less time spent concealing his identity and more time exploring the dynamic between Jane and Red John as active adversaries.
Simon Baker himself expressed a similar sentiment, wishing the show could have adopted a serialized, 24-style approach to the Red John hunt, but acknowledged the constraints of CBS’s procedural format.
Despite being portrayed as Jane’s intellectual equal, Red John, once revealed as McAllister, never demonstrated this supposed brilliance. His outmaneuvering of Jane always happened off-screen, attributed to writer contrivances to prolong the mystery. The reveal episode failed to showcase McAllister’s mental prowess, leaving viewers wondering why he was considered Jane’s match. Instead of a battle of wits, the confrontation devolved into McAllister delivering a generic villain monologue, further diminishing his impact.
Then came the infamous pigeon scene. In a bafflingly illogical move, McAllister accepts a closed fist offering from Jane. This supposed criminal mastermind, who has evaded capture for years and orchestrated elaborate schemes, inexplicably trusts his nemesis and accepts an unknown object. The ensuing pigeon distraction, while perhaps intended as a quirky Jane tactic, came across as silly and undermined Red John’s credibility. The bodyguard’s oversight in missing a live bird in Jane’s pocket while finding a gun only adds to the absurdity.
Red John’s explanation for obtaining Jane’s suspect list – claiming to be “psychic” – felt like a weak, hand-waving attempt to explain away plot inconsistencies. It was a narrative shortcut that further detracted from the character’s supposed intellect and strategic brilliance.
Redemption in Death: A Glimmer of Satisfaction
Despite the shortcomings of Red John’s identity and capture, the death scene itself provided a degree of catharsis. Patrick Jane finally achieves his long-sought revenge in a deeply personal and impactful manner. Red John, wounded and vulnerable, lies on the ground near the cemetery where Jane’s family is buried. There are no dramatic pronouncements, no heroic rescues – just Jane and his nemesis in a final, intimate confrontation.
Patrick Jane exacts his revenge on Red John, strangling him in a visceral and emotionally charged scene.
The scene becomes unsettlingly intimate as Jane straddles Red John, a physical dominance that feels particularly significant given Jane’s typically reserved and intellectual nature. Simon Baker’s portrayal in this moment is masterful. Jane, often seen as aloof and almost British in his demeanor, becomes visceral and physical in his pursuit of vengeance.
The dialogue is sparse but potent. Jane, with a hand firmly on Red John’s throat, uses blinks to elicit responses. He asks if Red John feels remorse for murdering his wife and daughter. Red John blinks “yes.” Jane’s reaction is not one of satisfaction, but a chillingly giddy “Good.” He then asks if Red John is afraid to die. Another “yes.”
The camera remains focused on Jane as the sound of choking fills the silence. Red John’s death is not sensationalized; the focus remains squarely on Jane and the profound impact of this act. The scene is powerful precisely because it is understated, emphasizing the personal and psychological consequences for Jane. Baker’s nuanced performance captures the complex mix of emotions – grief, rage, and a disturbing sense of release.
In the aftermath, Jane flees. While some might interpret this as an escape from legal repercussions, it is more likely a flight towards newfound freedom. For the first time since his family’s murder, since the series began, Patrick Jane is free from the shadow of Red John.
Final Verdict: A Mixed Legacy
The Red John reveal in The Mentalist is ultimately a study in diminished expectations. While the death scene offers a degree of emotional satisfaction and Simon Baker’s performance shines, the underwhelming identity of Red John and the anticlimactic capture overshadow the resolution of the series’ central mystery. The long-promised reveal failed to live up to the years of build-up, leaving many viewers feeling more let down than thrilled. Despite this, The Mentalist remains a compelling series, largely due to Baker’s captivating portrayal of Patrick Jane and the engaging procedural elements of the show. However, the Red John storyline serves as a cautionary tale about the perils of prolonged mystery and the challenges of delivering a satisfying resolution after years of anticipation.
