2 days ago
'An Army To Free Ourselves': 'The Handmaid's Tale' Episode 8 Is The One We've Waited Six Seasons For
The episode opens with a voiceover from June Osborne (Elisabeth Moss), who reflects on overconsumption and how, pre‑Gilead, society measured itself by the clothes we wore and discarded. 'We bought more clothes,' she says. 'When we didn't want them anymore, they went straight into landfill.' It's an eerie and powerful reflection, not only of what catalysed the creation of Gilead, but of our own modern wastefulness. Just like that, you're pulled back into the present and into the mind of someone shaped by both worlds.
And then we see her, draped once again in the handmaid uniform, the red cloak and white wing cap. We haven't seen June wear it since season four. It lands like a punch. She's back in that cage, but this time, she's not playing the helpless victim. She's stepping into the scene with purpose.
We've come full circle: back in Gilead, back in ranks, back seeing who everyone really is. It feels like a callback to those stylised, tension-jacked first seasons, pristine facades masking unspeakable violence. The ostentatious ceremony of Serena Joy Waterford's (Yvonne Strahovski) wedding drives that contrast home: on the surface, a polite, respectable gathering; underneath, a world carved by power and cruelty.
What made the early seasons disturbingly compelling was that underneath all that elitist polish, women suffered starkly different experiences based on their rank. That tension had faded in recent seasons, but here it's reignited. The tyranny, the hierarchy, the quiet infrastructure of pain and trauma, it never left. We thought June had escaped, that Serena had changed, that Commander Joseph Lawrence (Bradley Whitford) had found redemption. And yet Gilead pressed on.
But this week changes everything. As Nick Blaine (Max Minghella) rises to deliver a prayer to Gilead's elite, June begins passing knives, silver, and discreet weapons that look tiny in comparison to the power they may face, to her fellow Handmaids. It's quiet on-screen, but rattles through us: she's resumed the fight. The plan is going smoothly, until one knife falls to the floor and I could feel the audience collectively hold their breath. Will they be caught? But June is calm. She's laser‑focused. Fear has faded; resolve has taken its place.
When you watch these women, you no longer see passive victims, you see an army of survivors, united and unwavering. And as the rest of Gilead smiles and glitters in ignorance, their victims are taking a stand. June is the powerful now, proving that these women, long taught to be submissive, can now lead something revolutionary.
Serena, meanwhile, is on stage again, in dutiful light blue, basking in her own spotlight. Her speech to the Handmaids drips with carefully rehearsed contrition: 'I could have been kinder to June… she could have been kinder to me.' It's classic Serena: introspective, but never truly accountable. She names June a 'friend' again inserting herself at the centre of the narrative.
But Rita Blue (Amanda Brugel) interrupts, offering a silent rebuttal: 'Keep your eyes on the prize.' Not spoken into a mic, but heard loud and clear. The sacred cake arrives, spectacularly over-the-top it is almost comedic in its extravagance, a dessert-sized monument to Gilead's narcissism. But beneath the pomp hides a plan. June reveals to Moira Strand (Samira Wiley) that it's laced with sleeping pills. Their commanders will be sent into an unconscious slumber once they eat it, no bomb, no bloodshed in public. Just quiet sedition.
And as the Handmaids begin to leave, there's the most haunting callback to the early seasons, the iconic march, the group of red‑clad women striding through the night, peeling off house by house. But now, it isn't a procession of obedience; it's a coordinated strike team. That unity, that silent strength, makes it terrifying and beautiful.
June's mission leads her to Commander Bell (Gil Bellows)'s modern home, its stark minimalism a chilling counterpoint to his adherence to Gilead's ideology. It's a reminder: obedience doesn't require a costume. It can hide in sleek interiors, in suit jackets, in polite voices. The setting underscores that anyone can become complicit.
In the final moments, June stabs Bell in the eye, holding the knife as he falls. It's brutal, visceral and deliberate. She looks him in the eyes, holds him there. This is vengeance, reclamation, clarification. It's not random violence. It's a statement about justice. And as he lies dying, she takes a breath. Not relief, but resolve.
She finds Janine Lindo (Madeline Brewer), and the ferocity in June softens. These women didn't want to be this way. They were made this way by trauma, by violence, by the system. The power, it could be said, is starting to shift, but Gilead's psychological toll remains.
Back at the Red Centre, Aunt Lydia Clements (Ann Dowd) returns to chaos: unconscious Eyes, missing Handmaids. Her instinct isn't punishment, it's concern. She's unsettled. And then Moira stands up, unashamed, unbroken. She approaches, a woman Lydia had once scared into submission. She doesn't even remember Moira. The cruelty of power: it cements memory in one person, erases another.
But it is when June enters that really shows that Gilead has entered a new era, for someone like me who has watched every episode it is the fight we have yearned to witness for so long. June doesn't plead. She challenges: 'What do you think God would want? To condemn us—or to stand with us?'
Silence from Lydia. And that's the loudest line. It's a fracture. The enforcer is questioning her own obedience.
The real coup: when Janine touches Lydia, melting something in her. She remembers, she feels it all again. And she hugs Janine. And the Handmaids walk free. The cage's gate swings open, from the inside, who would have ever thought it would be Lydia to turn the key.
As the episode draws to a close, without letting the audience know if the Handmaid's had succeeded in killing the commanders, June's voice rings out: 'This is the beginning. We've become an army. An army to free ourselves.'
That line, the one we've screamed for since Season 1 feels like we are heading for the conclusion we are all desperate to see. With only two episodes left and the looming The Testament on the horizon, this is the episode the final season has been building toward. One we hoped for, pushed for, a moment we all knew had to come. It's what made us scream at our screens back in 2017: 'Stand up. Fight back. You can.' For so long, we watched them live through Gilead's horrors. Now, we see them fight.
We stayed for this. And we'll keep watching till we witness the end of the story. Because, after all, we all want to see Gilead fall to its knees.
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