The Handmaid’s Tale has never shied away from horror, but season 6, episode 7 – bluntly titled Shattered – opens with one of the most gut-wrenching moments of the series to date. Armed men storm Jezebel’s, machine guns at the ready, as our beloved Janine (Madeline Brewer) begs them not to do this awful thing that they’ve set out to do. And, for one fragile, fleeting moment, it seems as if her words might have had an impact.
“Wait,” says one of the guards, lifting his hand. Then, chillingly: “Not her.”
Janine is dragged away to a fate worse than death as the sound of screams and machine gun fire fills the air. The camera lingers more than long enough on the bloody violence of it all, reminding us that these are human lives, destroyed not by chance but by deliberate betrayal. Nick’sbetrayal.
This massacre sets the tone for an episode that drags its characters through the depths, bringing us right along with them. Janine is cloaked in red once more and imprisoned in the home of her rapist, Commander Bell (Timothy Simons), a monster who has been obsessed with the beleaguered Handmaid from the moment he clapped eyes on her in that state-sanctioned brothel.
“She’s not ready for public viewing at the moment,” he tells a concerned Aunt Lydia (Ann Dowd) when she comes calling to check on the most beloved of her girls. You can almost feelher hand itching to grasp her trusty cattle prod when she spots a battered and bruised Janine watching her sadly from a window above, only to be viciously grabbed and dragged away by Bell’s Wife.
Credit: Disney/Steve Wilkie
When injustice reigns, whose side are you on?
Elsewhere, June (Elisabeth Moss) is utterly broken by the way that her trust in Nick (Max Minghella) has led to the deaths of so many women, derailed Mayday’s plans to wipe out Gilead’s most important Commanders and shattered her fragile relationship with her husband, Luke (OT Fagbenle). Worse still? She’s no longer the revolution’s rallying point; everyone in the Mayday camp hates her, other than ride-or-die BFF Moira (Samira Wiley). Honestly, their chat about the hottest celebrities was the soothing tonic I needed this week, even if it does raise some big questions. Namely, if Rihanna and Angelina Jolie exist in this dystopian version of America, are they Handmaids, Wives or what?
On the other side of the border, Rita (Amanda Brugel), ever the quiet constant, is wounded deeply by Nick’s casual claim that they were never truly friends. Nick, too, seems wrecked, tormented by guilt and the knowledge that his choices have probably cost June dearly. I’m sure Team Nick fans would love to believe that their favourite pair of eyebrows mourns the women of Jezebel’s, but Luke is bang on the money when he tells June that the chauffeur-turned-Commander has only ever cared about her.
Still, Shattered isn’t just about suffering; it’s about moral reckoning. It demands a clear answer to a central question: when injustice reigns, whose side are you on? And perhaps more crucially: what are you willing to risk to stand against it?
Credit: Disney/Steve Wilkie
Serena (Yvonne Strahovski) reveals that vanity will forever be her undoing, even as she wriggles in discomfort during the show’s most insidious scene: the Wives’ tea party. No blood. No screams. Just well-coiffed women sipping drinks and debating the Handmaids’ future as if they’re talking about livestock. Not one of them lifts a finger against the system; not one voices disgust. Why would they? They benefit from it. They have nice homes, social status and the luxury of looking away. It’s little wonder they think New Bethlehem a “folly”; their privilege is wholly hinged upon the mistreatment of others.
This, The Handmaid’s Tale reminds us, is evil by another name: not violence, but complicity. These women may not carry guns or issue sentences, but they support a regime that rapes, imprisons and kills. Their silence is consent. Their comfort is built on the backs of others. And that moral fence splinters in this episode; Nick isn’t a hero in disguise, but a coward who willingly admits that he does despicable things in order to survive. Naomi Lawrence (Ever Carradine) is no longer the comedic relief, but a monster in teal.
And Commander Lawrence (Bradley Whitford)? Well, the architect of Gilead is swinging back around to fight the good fight, slipping across the border to press June’s buttons and get her all fired up to lead the revolution all over again. Serena, he informs her, has never given up. Nick’s smoulder, he insists, never had him fooled. And the upcoming wedding of Serena to Commander Wharton (Josh Charles) – symbolic, grotesque, and all too public – will be attended by Handmaids in their droves.
Credit: Disney/Steve Wilkie
Just like that, a plan begins to formulate in June’s mind. Because, with the Commanders riding so high from the atrocities at Jezebel’s, nobody would suspect an attack on an incredibly high-profile Gilead wedding. They already have an army of women at their disposal; all she and Moira need to do is sneak back into Gilead – and, honestly, if I had one bone to pick with this season, it’s how easily June and Moira keep sailing across the border, meet with Mayday’s Aunt Phoebe (D’Arcy Carden), weaponise the Handmaids and lead the uprising we all need and crave after six long seasons of horror and despair. Even Rita, so often sidelined, is suddenly vital, her cake hiding more than just sugar and frosting.
Most galvanising of all? It’s June’s vow to rescue Janine, no matter what. It’s the idea that the Handmaids will be able to deliver vengeance upon those who have wronged them over and over again. It’s Luke putting his faith in his wife, even in spite of their differences. It’s Moira, quietly asking her friend to say something “leadery”. It’s June’s prayer, recited with the solemnity of ritual: “The Lord is our shepherd; we shall not want…” And it’s June’s uniquely on-brand footnote to that holy text, gifting us the kind of closing line so defiant that it becomes its own kind of scripture:
“And please, dear God, give us the strength to murder those goddamn motherfuckers.”
The cost of neutrality is written in blood
Those 13 words, so perfectly delivered, capture exactly where The Handmaid’s Tale now stands: no longer content to chronicle trauma, but finally ready to fight back. The fuse is lit. All that remains is ignition.
Shattered doesn’t ask viewers to pity these women. It asks us to stand with them, or at least confront the reality of what standing by truly means. It shows us that injustice isn’t sustained just by tyrants and monsters, but by neighbours, friends and even loved ones who choose silence. The cost of neutrality is written in blood on the bathroom walls of Gilead. To sit on the fence in a world like this is to endorse the structure beneath it.
As June and Moira move forward, as the Handmaids rally, as even the likes of Serena and Aunt Lydia begin to waver (if only for a breath), the message is clear: the time for watching is over. The time for choosing is now. And may we all have the strength to choose right.