Really, there are so many cliches that spring to mind when you consider the character of Lester Nygaard in Fargo. Dead Man Walking. Dead Inside. Beaten and Broken. I can’t think of a character who has better embodied defeated. This is a man who listens to his wife systematically dismantle every aspect of his character and does nothing but smile into his soup. A man who still so desperately wants her approval he misses the social faus pax of describing graphic death to a couple expecting a child. A man so terrified by his demons that when forced to face the bully from high school, even though he’s in a public place surrounded by witnesses, he flinches away from a perceived blow so violently that he does Sam’s job for him and smashes his own nose into a window (and then self consciously lies about it to almost everyone that asks).
In fact, the only person he does open up to is a man he’s never met. He doesn’t call his wife, or his brother, or anyone else when he winds up in the hospital. Sitting alone in the ER, Lester spills his heart to the only person who will listen, someone who doesn’t know him, because his experience is that those who do won’t care. It’s no wonder he falls prey to Lorne’s games; at this point he’s so damaged that he makes the perfect patsy. He get’s sucked in, even if it’s unintentional at first, and pushed until he reaches his breaking point.
And even the breaking point is pathetic! When Lester finally snaps, when his wife says “What you gonna do?” in that tone, and Lester has had enough, yet the outpouring of anger and rage is subdued to the extreme. Yes, he hits her over and over again, but while he’s doing it, there’s no screaming or cries of anguish; all he does is almost whisper, “Oh dear, I’m sorry” over and over again. It is his lack of emotion, his lack of willpower that makes this scene hard to watch, not the brutality of it. If not for the blood, you wouldn’t necessarily realize anything awful was happening. Lester’s emotion(less) breakdown is one of the most devastating parts of the show.
The subtly of Martin Freeman’s acting takes what could be a punch line and makes Lester Nygaard into a character study of the desolate. Watching the systematic breakdown of his person is heartbreaking because it is real; it’s easy to see how any of us could end up where he is, given the right set of circumstances. For fans of Freeman migrating over from Sherlock there are clear parallels between Lester and John; a man broken, at the end of his rope, who meets a tall, dark stranger who tries to fix his problems. But while both damaged, John hasn’t quite lost his will to fight whereas Lester has nothing left (also Sherlock facilitates John helping himself, whereas Lorne interferes in Lester’s life to serve his own twisted games). In short, Sherlock gives John something to live for; Lorne points out to Lester that there’s no point. The line between the two characters is a narrow one, and an actor less-skilled than Freeman wouldn’t be able to pull of the distinction so smoothly.
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