I can only imagine what Hal Jordan (Kyle Chandler)—or rather, his hologram—was thinking when he watched John Stewart (Aaron Pierre) pull a gun and point it at his own head. John had just screamed for his father while suffering a terror-gas hallucination that had already devastated the civilization of Antaan. The “Halogram” and John were right there on the planet when the nightmare took hold, but I’d wager Hal’s mind flashed straight back to the opening scene of the penultimate episode 7, “The Legacy of the Jordans.”
That flashback establishes a defining moment between a young Hal and his father, Martin Jordan (played by Jake B. Miller, who communicates a mountain of emotion with a single smile). Martin explains to his son that a man must always prepare his loved ones for his death. What young Hal didn’t realize was that his father was planning to take his own life; those preparations—which included handing his son a key to a personal safe containing a farewell letter—unwittingly set off a tragic family cycle of depression and suicide. That exact generational shadow must have crossed Hal’s holographic mind when John raised the gun to himself.
Fear is a foundational theme in any great DC Lanterns story, and this episode proves the Jordan family harbors just as much terror as the Stewart family. The flavor of that fear differs, but it’s crushing all the same. While “The Legacy of the Jordans” takes its time and leaves plenty of heavy mysteries for the finale—Who killed Hal? Why is Sinestro on Antaan? Can someone please hug Kerry?—it triumphs by leaning entirely into the chemistry between Hal and John. In my review of the fourth episode, I noted that establishing a genuine friendship between the two was the only way their eventual rift could truly sting. And there was a real partnership here, one that somehow endured even after the blowup that drove them apart in Rushville. According to Kerry (Kelly Macdonald), Hal rooted for John the way a die-hard fan roots for their local sports team: constantly complaining and perpetually frustrated, but always in his corner.
Bit by bit, “The Legacy of the Jordans” shows us what these two could have been. Unlike his older, abrasive self, this younger holographic version immediately recognizes what his future counterpart saw in his protégé. But unlike a flesh-and-blood man, the hologram isn’t too proud to offer praise, mentorship, and protection. As the pair investigates Hal’s vault—uncovering not a suicide note, but a portal to Antaan—and gradually dismantles the barriers built up back in 2016, a fantastic back-and-forth dynamic emerges. It’s a fun, natural rapport that won’t shock anyone who watched Chandler and Pierre’s joint press tour. The sharp barbs are gone, replaced by two guys walking shoulder-to-shoulder into the unknown.
Back in Rushville, Sheriff Kerry is caught off guard when Noah (Shea Pritchard) keeps mum about which university he’ll be playing football for. But her biggest shock of the day comes when she hears—and sees—Hal’s hologram. Macdonald’s expression as Kerry listens to the first words from her late love’s ghostly image deserves serious Emmy consideration. It’s a moment that highlights how thoughtfully the series has handled this “new” Hal: he’s still funny and occasionally tactless, but he carries a newfound sensitivity, no longer needing to hide behind an armor of sarcasm and cynicism.
Maybe the running fan theory that the original Hal was infected by Parallax holds water—and maybe that explains his harsher edges—but “The Legacy of the Jordans” reframes his abrasive personality in a more tragic light. In that childhood flashback, Hal clutches a baseball, stubbornly refusing to hand it over when his coach pulls him from the game. He only needed two more outs for a complete game, so he digs his heels in and forces a forfeit, much to the quiet pride of his father, who despises the coach’s interference.
The father-son chat ends with Martin urging Hal to finally let go of the ball. It’s tough to keep holding on, the pilot notes—foreshadowing his own fatal choices. Hal eventually throws the ball, but the final scene of the episode shows the boy returning to the mound to retrieve it after burying his father. It’s hard not to read that baseball as a metaphor for survival: unlike his father (and grandfather), Hal Jordan refuses to let go. As depression, anxiety, and trauma piled up and made him bitter, Hal’s sheer willpower kept him breathing. The power ring effectively became his new baseball—the stubborn tether to life he refused to surrender.
Then again… maybe Parallax really is pulling the strings. We might get answers once John officially joins the Corps—and I’m increasingly convinced he’ll become a heroic Yellow Lantern, considering the series borrowed imagery from the Green Lantern: Earth One graphic novel where that exact scenario plays out, identifying the fear parasite inside Hal’s old ring. Perhaps stranded on Antaan, Sinestro (Ulrich Thomsen) will help clear things up.
At the end of the day, Hal Jordan has carried a legacy of grief, tragedy, and heartbreak since he was eight years old. Yet, he pushed forward to the bitter end. This version of Hal has taken plenty of flak for his messy choices, but I can’t imagine a more profound kind of courage than that.