There was a fella once running for a train, and he’s carrying a pair of gloves, this man. He drops a glove on the platform, but he doesn’t notice. And then later on, inside the train, he’s sitting by the window and he realizes that he’s just got this one glove left. But the train’s already started pulling out of the station, right? So what does he do? He opens the window and he drops the other glove onto the platform. That way, whoever finds the first glove can just have the pair.
Some showrunners seem to think their stories can only be “honest” if the hero or someone close to them dies, and since this was a close-ended story, you could have killed off anyone. But Molly, Gus, and their family come out of it alive. What was your thinking in how to end the story?
I certainly could have killed one of them. But I also think it’s true that I was adapting this movie, and this movie has a very iconic ending to it where all the good people are home safe and sound in the end. […] The movie ends with Marge, a baby in two months, and Norm getting the three-cent stamp. Life is going to go back to normal. I think that’s a huge element of why the movie’s so powerful. This very decent woman went out and faced a real evil and came home and gets to go back to her small town life. In my mind, there was never a version that wasn’t going to end that way, but that’s not a card I was going to show anyone. — Noah Hawley (x)
I think that what Marge saw in the movie and what Molly saw here, it’s a lot to take in and it will certainly stay with her for the rest of her life. But if you keep piling that stuff on, then whatever innocence or small town decency that she has is going to start to evolve into what is now all too common haunted demon hunter law man. That’s basically our heroes now — they’ve got to be as bad as the villains they’re chasing, and this a different kind of show.
— Fargo creator Noah Hawley (x)
They said you were, um— that you might be a witness to a murder.
Three murders, actually.