Peacemaker (2025) - “Back to the Suture” Review
At its core, “Back to the Suture” feels like the moment when Peacemaker finally throws in the towel. This episode does what James Gunn’s best work often does: it forces us to look at the protagonist with both tenderness and discomfort, and to ask what it means for a hero, even an antihero, to be undone, and perhaps remade, by the promises he chased.
We begin with a funeral. Rick Flag mourns his son at a ceremony attended by Harcourt and others. The air is thick with grief – and betrayal. Harcourt refuses to disclose who killed Flag’s son but promises that justice will come. From this somber prologue, the episode pivots to present day, where Peacemaker is increasingly distant, increasingly convinced that the universe he currently inhabits is irredeemable; or perhaps more accurately, that he is as long as he’s a part of it.
Harcourt’s character arc in this episode is painful to watch, because it’s torn between love, responsibility, and guilt. We learn that she lured Chris into an A.R.G.U.S. trap, but also that she used their secret code – “copacetic” – to warn him. It’s a gesture of care in a landscape of betrayal; it’s also the sort of duality that makes Peacemaker richer than the superhero fare of yesteryear. She subdues Chris to prevent the rest of the team from taking a kill shot, but Chris sees only betrayal.
The emotional center of “Back to the Suture” is Chris’s realization that seemingly no number of apologies will convince the people around him to allow him a chance at redemption. When Rick Flag arrests him, strips recording devices from the room, and beats him, Chris does not fight back. We already knew he wouldn’t, as much as we’d love nothing more than to see him wipe the floor with Flag once and for all. In this moment, his surrender becomes cathartic. It’s a violent confession of exhaustion.
And so the alternate dimension beckons. With Adebayo and Adrian’s help, Chris retreats to the cabin, steps into the quantum chamber, and leaves behind a note: “I tried again and again to make up for my mistakes, but I’m not sure redemption is something that’s truly possible. At least not here.” It’s one of the most honest, wrenching moments the show has given us, and framed with language most often associated with suicide, as his friends are left behind grappling with the pain of wondering if there was anything they should have done differently to help their friend believe that this world is one worth living in.
Yet it’s hard to believe that the alternate dimension is truly idyllic. There’s a wrenching fear that what looks greener may be equally haunted, and one can’t help but be concerned that the parallel world may have its own fractures. His decision to leave comes with cost, guilt, and unanswered questions.
What makes this episode resonate is that it refuses purity. There is no easy path, no simple redemption arc. The series has teased the door; here, Chris opens it. But what he leaves behind won’t stay behind – the consequences, the love, the failures, they all follow him, like shadows. And even stepping into a new universe won’t erase what’s been done and what he hopes for.
Next week, the turning point as we approach the end of the season looms large: the season’s trajectory suggests that Peacemaker’s choices will cost more than ever, and “Back to the Suture” has already begun to teach us that sometimes, the weight of choice is the only thing that tells us who we are.