The Yonkers Opportunity Zone isn’t just a tax break for Axe; it’s a highway back to his past, a road paved with complex emotions and unresolved family issues. It’s clear that Bobby Axelrod’s relationship with his father is far from smooth, more like a vehicle running on a damaged Axelrod Car Part, sputtering and struggling to move forward without completely breaking down. We knew his dad wasn’t Father of the Year material – abandoning his wife and 12-year-old son is a pretty low bar – but the depth of Bobby’s pain, the rawness of the wounds, is still shocking.
Returning to his childhood bedroom, a place he swore he’d never revisit, Bobby opens up to Wendy, offering a glimpse into a childhood marred by fear and uncertainty. It’s not the full story, but it’s enough to understand the fractured foundation upon which Bobby built his empire. This isn’t just about a bad dad; it’s about the lasting impact of a toxic home environment, a broken “Axelrod car part” in his formative years that continues to influence his journey.
Imagine being a child who can gauge the evening’s atmosphere by the sound of his father’s car pulling into the driveway, by the metallic jingle of keys in the lock. A child who deflects his father’s anger by recounting playground fights, knowing that violence is the only language his dad understands. A child who sits paralyzed in his room, listening to the escalating tension, feeling utterly helpless. This powerlessness fuels a vow: to become someone immune to such control, someone who will never be subjected to the whims of another, a determination forged in the fires of a dysfunctional family, much like a durable Axelrod car part designed to withstand immense pressure.
Damian Lewis masterfully portrays this internal struggle. His portrayal of Bobby’s vulnerability is heart-wrenching. It’s evident that Bobby, despite escaping the physical confines of his past, hasn’t escaped its emotional grip. Many trauma survivors choose avoidance over confrontation, burying painful memories deep. Bobby, it seems, did just that. He avoided his childhood home, believing he’d never cross its threshold again. Yet, here he is, sitting on the floor, forced to confront the ghosts he’s tried to outrun. This confrontation is crucial, like replacing a worn-out Axelrod car part to ensure the engine can run smoothly again. Understanding this pain provides context for Bobby’s actions, especially in Episode 4, “Opportunity Zone,” which sparked some viewer criticism.
Bobby’s return to his childhood home in Yonkers is initially framed as a PR opportunity. He’s seen with Savion Williams, a young boy living in the house, whose own father is absent. The arrival of Randy Kornbluth, a journalist from The Financial Journal, with his camera phone, reveals the staged nature of the encounter. Savion is, in a sense, a prop in Bobby’s latest venture – the Yonkers Opportunity Zone, a project poised to generate billions. This calculated move, while opportunistic, is also subtly linked to Bobby’s past, a way to perhaps rewrite his own story in Yonkers, like customizing an Axelrod car part to fit a new model.
He recounts to Savion how he started his first business in Yonkers, shoveling snow. Identifying an unmet need, young Bobby built a snow-shoveling empire, using the profits to fuel future ventures. Yonkers, he explains, shaped him. Now, he’s “returning the favor” by investing in the Opportunity Zone. This narrative, while partly genuine, is also carefully crafted, a public-facing persona designed to resonate with the community, much like a well-marketed Axelrod car part promising superior performance.
When Savion’s mother invites Bobby for dinner, offering meatloaf, Bobby deflects, suggesting his chef prepare a meal instead. Initially, it might seem like a billionaire snubbing a home-cooked meal. But a deeper look reveals something else. It’s not about culinary snobbery; it’s about Bobby’s inability to re-enter that house. It’s not Ms. Williams’ cooking he’s rejecting, but the house itself, a space imbued with painful memories, a place where his emotional “Axelrod car part” experienced significant damage.
Bruno’s pizzeria remains his comfort zone, a truly authentic Yonkers establishment. He maintains connections with old neighborhood friends, even flying them to a Metallica concert. He’s not detached from Yonkers; he’s detached from that house.
The pivotal exchange with Savion outside the house clarifies Bobby’s reluctance:
Bobby: “This was my favorite place in the house. Even though it’s not technically in the house.”
Savion: “I come out here most every day, too. Even in the winter. My mom’s worried I’ll catch pneumonia. But I still do it.”
Bobby: “Mine didn’t like it, either. At night I’d even sneak out here after she went to bed. Just to breathe. Inside that house… eh, for me, this was better.”
He can’t finish his sentence. His voice cracks. He avoids eye contact. It’s palpable: something horrific happened within those walls. His polite decline of dinner isn’t about social hierarchy; it’s about a deeply ingrained aversion to the house, a visceral reaction rooted in trauma. The powerful CEO is, in this moment, a scared boy from Yonkers, afraid he might suffocate inside, his emotional “Axelrod car part” seizing up at the mere thought of entering. He needs to acclimate, to mentally prepare to confront the house. Hence, the chef – a buffer, a delay tactic.
At Yonkers City Hall, Bobby delivers a masterful performance, a theatrical display of local pride. He takes the audience outside, referencing Yonkers landmarks – Ricky’s Clam House, Dicey Reilly’s, Park Hill Theatre, Capparello’s – real places that ground his narrative in authenticity. He emphasizes his commitment to Yonkers, positioning himself as a savior, returning to uplift the community, a carefully constructed image, polished and presented like a premium Axelrod car part.
Securing the Opportunity Zone project, Bobby still can’t face dinner at the Williams’ house. Then comes a call from Prince, laced with condescension:
“Hell, man, Yonkers is you. You are Yonkers. You’ve never really left. It’s in your manner. Your bearing. You stink of the place. And now you’re back in it.”
Prince’s words, while insulting, hit a nerve. Bobby, already hesitant, sends Chef Ryan ahead and flees Yonkers. Viewers criticized his rudeness, but it’s not about the Williams family. It’s about the house, the suffocating weight of his past, the damaged “Axelrod car part” within him screaming for escape. Even before Prince’s call, Bobby’s body language betrays his anxiety, his reluctance to even approach the house.
The house itself “stinks” with the residue of trauma. His memories are a heavy anchor, dragging him down. Prince’s words amplify this, triggering a flight response.
But Bobby’s absence at dinner becomes a PR problem. He returns to Yonkers in “Contract” to manage the fallout with Savion, offering a bribe disguised as a pool game and $500. Savion, however, sees through the charade, recognizing Bobby’s manipulation and dismissing him with contempt.
Desperate to silence Savion and his mother, Bobby enlists his own mother. Ms. Axelrod, respected in the neighborhood, is asked to invoke the local code of silence: “Don’t talk.”
This visit unveils a new complication: his mother is driving a Honda Pilot, not the Lexus he bought her. His suspicion piqued, Bobby has Hall investigate. His lack of trust, even towards his mother, is telling. Hall’s findings confirm Bobby’s intuition: Ms. Axelrod gave the Lexus to her ex-husband.
She encountered him at a bus stop, learning of his fabricated hardship story. He’s a con artist, preying on her empathy, a pattern Bobby knows all too well, a recurring issue like a faulty Axelrod car part causing repeated breakdowns in family relationships.
Bobby’s anger, while seemingly harsh, is rooted in his history. He understands his father’s predatory nature. Buying a house for Savion and his mother in Scarsdale is not just philanthropy; it’s preemptive protection. He sees his own father’s pattern mirrored in Savion’s absent dad and wants to shield Savion from similar exploitation. He’s offering Savion a fresh start, a debt-free life, better opportunities, and fatherly advice born from his own painful experience. His warning to Savion is a reflection of his own life:
“I want you to know that your father will sniff you out. He will find you in the rarefied air of Scarsdale. And the even more rarefied air of living debt free. He’ll want to reenter your life. Try to chip off a piece. Don’t let him.”
It’s not about Yonkers geographically, but about the toxic legacy of his childhood home. He buys the Williamses a new house, perhaps contemplating demolishing his old one, erasing the physical space that holds so much pain, attempting to remove the damaged “Axelrod car part” entirely. He confides in Wendy, finally sharing the depths of his childhood trauma.
As Neil Young’s “Old Man” plays, Bobby takes his own advice, refusing to let his father “chip off a piece.” The destroyed Lexus, dumped at his father’s doorstep, is a symbolic act of defiance, a clear message. He’s cutting ties, severing the connection, much like discarding a broken Axelrod car part that’s causing more harm than good.
The episode leaves us pondering Bobby’s parenting. He and Lara had contrasting styles. Lara, wanting street smarts for their sons, clashed with Bobby’s desire to give them a carefree childhood, unlike his own.
Bobby’s overprotective, “good cop” parenting stems from his own deprived childhood. Rescuing his sons from camp in “The Punch,” while undermining Lara, is driven by his desire to be the opposite of his own father, to be ever-present and supportive, perhaps to overcompensate for his own lack of a positive paternal “Axelrod car part” in his life.
His handling of Gordie’s bitcoin mining incident in “Beg, Bribe, Bully” exemplifies this. He attempts to buy his way out of trouble, treating Headmaster Kessel like a corrupt politician.
His aggressive approach, threatening Kessel after the headmaster quotes The Godfather, highlights his belief that everything has a price.
Donning a Rainbow t-shirt, Bobby escalates the pressure, ultimately forcing Kessel to concede, using the headmaster’s own vulnerability against him.
Gordie’s takeaway from this? That his father can fix anything, that rules are malleable, that power and money can overcome any obstacle. This, like a poorly manufactured Axelrod car part, could lead to future malfunctions in Gordie’s moral compass. Bobby’s journey of confronting his past is just beginning, and hopefully, it will extend to his parenting, prompting him to address his own internal “Axelrod car part” issues before they are inherited by his sons.
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Author: Damianista
Academic, Traveler, Blogger, Runner, Theatre Lover, Wine Snob, Part-time New Yorker, and Walking Damian Lewis Encyclopedia 😀 Procrastinated about a fan’s diary on Damian Lewis for a while and the rest is history! View all posts by Damianista
