For five seasons, viewers of the hit CBS crime procedural The Mentalist were captivated by one burning question: Who is Red John? This elusive serial killer, responsible for the brutal murder of Patrick Jane’s wife and daughter, loomed large, a phantom menace taunting our brilliant protagonist at every turn. Red John was portrayed as a criminal mastermind, a puppeteer pulling strings from the shadows, capable of manipulating not only his devoted followers but also law enforcement itself. The anticipation was immense. We expected a Moriarty-esque figure, a worthy adversary to Jane’s sharp intellect and observational skills.
Then came the reveal. After years of intricate clues, near misses, and red herrings, the mask finally came off. And behind it? Sheriff Thomas McAllister, a seemingly innocuous character from the show’s early days. The reveal itself was abrupt, almost casual. McAllister, played by Xander Berkeley, engaged in a brief, almost banal conversation with Jane before making a fatal error and meeting his end. The climax of a five-year saga felt…deflating.
This article delves into the controversial unveiling of Red John’s identity, analyzing what worked, what spectacularly didn’t, and why the resolution to The Mentalist‘s central mystery left many viewers, and even Patrick Jane himself, feeling underwhelmed. Was Sheriff McAllister a satisfying culmination to the Red John saga, or did the reveal ultimately undermine years of intricate storytelling? Let’s dissect the case.
The Anticlimactic Identity of Red John: A Letdown Years in the Making
The disappointment surrounding Red John’s identity wasn’t just a knee-jerk reaction from invested fans; it was almost foreshadowed within the narrative itself. In a moment of meta-commentary, Jane, upon unmasking McAllister, voices his own disappointment, as if anticipating the audience’s collective sigh. This acknowledgement, however, did little to soften the blow. The issue wasn’t simply that McAllister wasn’t a grand, theatrical villain, but that he felt…insignificant.
The original article aptly references the film Seven, where Morgan Freeman’s character cautions against expecting too much from the mysterious John Doe. However, Seven was a contained cinematic experience. The Mentalist stretched its central mystery across five seasons, hundreds of hours of viewing, and countless theories. This prolonged build-up inevitably inflated expectations to a point where almost any reveal would struggle to satisfy. Yet, the choice of McAllister felt particularly lackluster, especially considering the pool of suspects. Aside from the intriguing cult leader Bret Stiles, the list was largely populated by unremarkable characters, further diminishing the potential impact of the reveal.
Adding fuel to the fire, The Mentalist creator Bruno Heller admitted in an interview that Red John’s identity wasn’t decided until relatively late in the series’ run. This revelation explains much of the narrative incoherence and the seemingly random clues scattered throughout previous seasons. For years, the writers were essentially throwing darts in the dark, creating Red John mythology without a concrete endpoint in mind. This improvisational approach, while perhaps initially liberating, ultimately undermined the central mystery. Red John, in essence, became a plot device rather than a fully realized character, capable of seemingly supernatural feats simply because his identity was undefined. When the time came to finally put a face to the name, the chosen face felt arbitrary and disconnected from the elaborate web of intrigue spun over seasons.
The portrayal of McAllister after the reveal further exacerbated the disappointment. Xander Berkeley, a talented actor known for his compelling roles in series like 24, was given little to work with. Instead of a cunning mastermind finally brought into the light, McAllister became a generic, almost bland villain. Heller’s attempts to preemptively address this criticism by suggesting that all mysterious villains are inherently disappointing rang hollow. He compared Red John to the Wizard of Oz behind the curtain, inevitably less impressive than the illusion. However, this comparison ignores the rich history of compelling and charismatic villains in popular culture – Hannibal Lecter, Moriarty in Sherlock, and even Joe Carroll from The Following, all characters who captivated audiences precisely because of their complex and intriguing personalities, even after their reveals. Ironically, The Mentalist itself had offered a more compelling Red John in the form of Bradley Whitford’s fake Red John in the season 3 finale, a character who exuded a chilling charisma that the actual Red John sorely lacked.
The decision to make McAllister Red John felt like a missed opportunity, a narrative dead end rather than a satisfying resolution. The confrontation with Whitford’s character in the food court could have served as a more impactful conclusion to the Red John arc. Dragging the mystery on for two more seasons, only to reveal a relatively minor character, diminished the overall impact and left audiences questioning the purpose of the extended chase. Simon Baker’s telling response when asked about his satisfaction with Red John’s identity – “I was eventually satisfied with the way I killed him” – speaks volumes, hinting at a potential disconnect between the actor’s personal feelings and the narrative choices made.
One redeeming element of the Red John reveal was the introduction of the Blake Association. This shadowy organization of corrupt law enforcement officials provided a plausible explanation for Red John’s seemingly limitless power and influence. The fact that McAllister was a sheriff, a figure of authority within the system, aligned with this concept and added a layer of thematic resonance to the reveal, suggesting a deeper rot within the institutions meant to protect and serve.
Red John’s Capture: A Procedural Anticlimax
Compounding the underwhelming identity reveal was the rushed and formulaic nature of Red John’s capture. The Mentalist typically operated on a procedural structure: a crime is introduced, investigated, and resolved within a single episode. Applying this episodic format to the culmination of the series’ overarching narrative felt jarringly inadequate. Red John, the nemesis who had outwitted Jane for years, was dispatched with the same narrative pacing as a typical week-of-the-week killer.
Despite being built up as Jane’s intellectual equal, if not superior, Red John displayed little to no discernible brilliance once his identity was revealed. His cunning and manipulative abilities, so prominently showcased throughout the series, seemed to vanish the moment he was unmasked. Instead of engaging in a battle of wits with Jane, McAllister devolved into a stereotypical villain, smugly monologuing and brandishing a gun. The show failed to actively demonstrate Red John’s supposed mental prowess in this crucial confrontation, making Jane’s victory feel less earned and more like a plot contrivance. We were told Red John was brilliant, but we were never truly shown it, especially when it mattered most.
The infamous pigeon trick further cemented the anticlimactic nature of Red John’s downfall. McAllister, the supposed criminal mastermind, inexplicably accepts a closed fist offering from his arch-nemesis, a man he knows is obsessed with revenge. This blatant lapse in judgment, followed by his comical overreaction to a pigeon, undermined any remaining sense of menace or intelligence associated with the character. The scene, intended to be a clever display of Jane’s trickery, instead portrayed Red John as foolish and easily manipulated, a far cry from the calculating and elusive figure who had haunted Jane’s life for years. Even the explanation for Red John obtaining Jane’s suspect list – “psychic abilities” – felt like a lazy and unsatisfying handwave, highlighting the writers’ struggle to reconcile plot holes and unanswered questions.
While the preceding episode’s clever gun-planting setup was a commendable element of Jane’s plan, the execution of Red John’s capture felt rushed, uninspired, and ultimately unworthy of the years of anticipation it was meant to resolve.
The Redemption of Red John’s Death
Amidst the numerous shortcomings of the Red John reveal, one aspect stood out as genuinely powerful and resonant: Red John’s death scene. In a stark and intimate setting near the cemetery where his family is buried, Patrick Jane finally confronts his nemesis. Wounded and vulnerable, Red John is no longer the phantom menace, but a broken man at Jane’s mercy.
The scene’s power lies in its raw emotional intensity and Simon Baker’s masterful performance. Jane’s act of straddling Red John, a physical domination rarely seen from the usually composed and aloof protagonist, underscores the profound shift in power dynamics. This physical intimacy, bordering on uncomfortable, highlights the deeply personal nature of Jane’s quest for revenge. The article astutely observes Jane’s almost British demeanor, drawing parallels to Sherlock Holmes, emphasizing the unexpectedness and impact of this physical act of dominance.
The dialogue exchange, simple yet loaded with emotional weight, further elevates the scene. Jane’s questions – “Do you feel sorry for murdering my wife and daughter?” and “Are you afraid to die?” – cut to the core of Red John’s crimes and mortality. Red John’s blinking responses, confirming his remorse and fear, humanize him in his final moments, yet simultaneously solidify the justice of Jane’s actions. Jane’s “Good,” delivered with a chilling giddiness, is a masterstroke of acting, revealing the complex and perhaps unsettling satisfaction Jane derives from finally confronting his tormentor.
Crucially, the camera remains focused on Jane throughout the act of strangulation, emphasizing the scene’s true focus: Jane’s emotional journey and the profound impact of this act of revenge. Red John, in his death throes, becomes secondary; the scene is about Jane’s catharsis, his release from years of torment. Baker’s facial expressions, a nuanced blend of grief, anger, and a strange sense of liberation, convey the immense emotional weight of this moment, solidifying it as the most compelling and memorable aspect of the Red John resolution.
Immediately following Red John’s death, Jane’s impulsive act of running is interpreted not as an escape from legal repercussions, but as a symbolic run towards freedom. For the first time since his family’s murder, Jane is unburdened, free from the consuming obsession that has defined his life for so long. This interpretation offers a glimmer of hope and closure, suggesting that despite the flawed journey, Jane has finally found a semblance of peace.
Conclusion: The Legacy of Red John
The Red John reveal in The Mentalist remains a divisive topic among fans. While the identity of Sheriff McAllister and the procedural nature of his capture ultimately fell short of expectations, the raw emotional power of Red John’s death scene and Simon Baker’s exceptional performance provided a degree of redemption. The Red John saga serves as a cautionary tale about the perils of prolonged mystery and the challenges of delivering satisfying resolutions to long-running narratives. Despite its flaws, The Mentalist‘s exploration of grief, obsession, and the quest for justice, embodied in the complex relationship between Patrick Jane and Red John, left a lasting impact on television crime drama.
