Enterprise 4.16: "Divergence"

Written by Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens
Directed by David Barrett

In which Phlox and Archer must race against time to find a cure to the plague spreading throughout the Klingon Empire, before the High Council eradicates the affected populations…


Captain’s Log

This episode presented the writers with a significant challenge. For the most part, the various plot threads had resolutions already built into them: Enterprise would survive its engine trouble, Reed would be more or less exonerated, the Klingon Augment problem would be solved in a fashion consistent with the original series’ version of Klingons, and Section 31 would remain a shadowy sub-compartment of Starfleet Intelligence. It was up to the writers to place each resolution within a satisfactory context, and that’s not always as easy as it seems.

The episode starts off with Phlox struggling to maintain his ethics, despite his life and the lives of those suffering the plague in the balance. Meanwhile, there’s the little matter of rescuing Enterprise, which is where Trip’s service on Columbia intersects with the story. It’s a clever way to get both ships involved in the same mission, to say the least, and it also provides the first act of the episode with an amazing action set piece devoted almost entirely to getting Trip onto Enterprise while the ship is running above Warp 5.

Action sequences haven’t been the forte of Enterprise, since they all blend together after a while. This is definitely something different and exciting. The outcome might be obvious, but that doesn’t take away from the creative solution to moving personnel, using mechanical means only, between two ships moving above the speed of light. The solution uses minimal technobabble (and it’s not hard to accept, unlike some “Next Generation” examples), using a strong score and great direction/editing to keep the pacing at the highest level. Sure, it wastes a lot of episode time, but considering how little there is to the rest of the episode, plot-wise, that makes sense.

Archer resumes his pressure on Reed, and this time, Reed capitulates. The writers do their best to mask the fact that Reed caves rather quickly once the second part of the story resumes, and the conversation between Archer and Harris is quite good. The writers definitively mention (as many fans overlooked) that Section 31 was always a reference to the original Starfleet charter. This indirectly answers one of the long-standing questions about the Starfleet of “Enterprise”; on some level, the Earth Starfleet charter was incorporated or subsumed by the Federation Starfleet charter. (Note that the original series seemed to emphasize a Human Starfleet still transitioning into something interplanetary.)

Back at Kuvat Colony, the Klingons are getting restless. Antaak is working to resolve his guilt over his part in the Klingon Augment experiments, and if that means creating a cure that would allow millions to survive with nothing more than an altered appearance, so be it. As hinted in the previous episode, the entire situation becomes a question of racing against the deadline placed by the High Council. Phlox needs to cut corners left and right to get the information he needs to create a cure, which constantly places him in the same ethical quagmire that he found himself with since his abduction.

This progresses in discrete stages, which then mirror the structure of the episode. The second act is the process of setting the stage for the deadline while Archer gathers information on everything Reed was trying to conceal. There’s also a little time for General K’Vagh to hear from some of the Klingons that have already succumbed. This is interesting because it gives insight into the effect of the change on Klingon culture and self-image. Laneth claims that the change has weakened her with Human emotions and fears, stealing away their honor and strength, but the irony is that the Augment DNA was meant to make them stronger and more intelligent. If anything, this is an expression of how the change is psychologically undermining the confidence of the Klingons thus affected.

This is not merely idle talk; it drives at the heart of the Klingon struggle, over more than one generation, to get the cure and restore their people. If the affected Klingons were able to accept their new appearance with uniform pride, without fear of prejudice, then it might not have mattered. But Klingons eventually took the effort to reverse the genetic manipulation, and that suggests that body image is very important to Klingons as a whole. (Ironically, since “smooth” Klingons were military commanders in the original series, even Klingon society was willing to accept honor and courage among those without the “correct” body type. But were any of them politically powerful? Probably not!)

Phlox finally manages to pull together four possible “cure” candidates, requiring four volunteers. That leaves three Klingons with a death sentence, especially if the identified cure can’t be replicated quickly enough to satisfy the High Council. For their own part, the Council has decided that eradication is a better solution than betting on Phlox, and if that means killing millions, then so be it. Of course, this is a decidedly problematic resolution to the problem, since that would mean killing millions, perhaps even billions, of Klingons in an effort to eliminate plague victims. It’s hard to imagine that the Klingons would be able to decimate their population without negative impact.

Of course, the High Council, represented by Krell, has already played with the lives of the Klingon people. They joined an effort by Section 31 (or its very early precursor) to conduct black project Augment experiments, and as one would expect, the Klingons took advantage of Human naivete. Harris might have claimed that the entire effort was safeguarding Earth by stabilizing a dangerous alien threat, but if that were the case, aiding them in the Augment cause by handing them Phlox (on the hopes that he would resolve the plague issue by fixing the Augment project in a successful manner) doesn’t track. Harris’ goals remain somewhat elusive, which is one of the unfortunate aspects of the episode.

The episode boils down to Enterprise and Columbia stemming off the efforts by the Klingon High Council to eradicate the colony, so that Phlox can complete his work on a cure. Whereas the solution to making the threat to Enterprise was well conceived, the final act doesn’t come together nearly as well. Phlox explains, in a vague way, that the strain of the Augment virus that holds promise for a cure requires a Human to generate antibodies that can then be used to pass the cure on to Klingons. Archer, of course, becomes that antibody machine.

On the face of it, the effect of the altered virus on Archer makes sense. If the virus was mutagenic in the first place, making Klingons more Human, then it could very well have the reverse effect on Humans. All well and good, but the scenes on the colony, used to increase the tension of the battle overhead, are absolutely terrible. Bakula, who has grown in the role over the past four years, doesn’t depict Archer’s struggle with the virus convincingly at all. It’s so bad that it actually breaks the intended tension.

That said, sending up a device that infects Krell and his crew is a quick and dirty solution that works well enough to end the crisis. The final scene reinforces the “body image” element, and also smoothes over (forgive the pun) the effect on the Empire as a whole. On the one hand, this is logical, since the Klingons would probably become more isolated as they deal with the social upheaval of the plague. On the other, like with the Vulcan social crisis, it would have been interesting to see more of the aftermath. But with the series ending with the current season, the subject is more likely to be covered in future novels than on screen.

While Archer has more than enough reason to let Reed off the hook, it sends an interesting message to the rest of the crew. Archer and Reed can’t tell anyone about the intelligence group operating under the authority of Section 31, but everyone was aware, on some level, that Reed had sabotaged Phlox’s rescue. For Reed to return to duty without comment ought to have raised eyebrows.

After an episode that was packed with several subplots and exciting plot elements, it all comes together is an uneven and predictable way. The writers delivered their usual crisp dialogue, and the brief explorations of Klingon reaction to the effect of the virus were well done. But in the end, there’s very little shock value. This is the same problem that “The Augments”, “Kir’Shara”, and “The Aenar” faced: once the pieces are in place to resolve the problem, the nature of the series is such that the answers are already common knowledge. The solution to the Klingon question was incredibly clever and highly consistent, but in the end, after that was accomplished, the concluding episode was only necessary to extricate the characters out of the situation that revealed the crisis and solution in the first place.

That’s not to say that this is a horrible episode. For the most part, it’s everything that a fan could ask for. It’s simply very hard to overcome the fact that each arc essentially ends in a pre-determined position. The writers do everything possible to make the journey to that conclusion as strong as possible, to their credit, and only Bakula lets them down with that oddly pathetic performance in the final act. For that matter, it’s easier to see this story as a novel-based concept adapted to the screen; the events sometimes feel like they would read better than they were rendered in the episode itself. It’s not just this episode or scenario that falls in this category; Coto has clearly been trying to take the “fan fiction” approach to the fourth season, and for the most part, it works.

But for those still looking for a reason why the series has struggled from the beginning, this is another clue. As mentioned, the major drawback is that the resolution of the crisis, on all fronts, has already been a matter of franchise continuity for some time. There’s no way to address items of continuity near and dear to fans without this happening, and so there are few surprises at the end of each arc. Similarly, many Trek fans openly criticized the decision to set “Enterprise” before the original series because the end results were set in stone (or as much as they can be in the Trek canon!). While the end results might appeal to hardcore Trek fans, ultimately, for those looking for the next step forward, this series was a giant step backward. As this episode demonstrates, that might have been a valid criticism.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was not as solid as the first half of the story, since some of the creativity was eliminated by the fact that the outcome was already apparent before the story even began. The final act also includes a curiously poor acting job by Bakula, which threatens to break the suspension of disbelief. The writers make the resolution of the Klingon crisis as interesting as possible, but since most of the revelations were already given in the previous episode, this installment feels lacking.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 1/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 3/4

Final Rating: 8/10

Season Average (as of 4.16): 7.6

Alias 4.8: "Echoes"

Written by Andre Nemec and Josh Appelbaum
Directed by Daniel Attias

In which Anna Espinosa returns, working for ex-Covenant terrorists, and when she uses Nadia against Sydney to get what she wants, revelations about Rambaldi’s endgame surface…


Status Report

Of all the cricitisms leveled at this season, largely due to the change in format and the network’s foolish interference, the one that stands as the most fundamental was the sidelining of the Rambaldi mythology and everything that went along with it. Granted, there’s been much talk and innuendo regarding Irina Derevko, who’s entire life was devoted to the fulfillment of Rambaldi’s grand design, but there were several elements that were related specifically to Sydney and Nadia. And of course, Sloane’s motivations are never far from his own attempts to fulfill Irina’s plans for his own purpose.

However, there were indications in the previous episode that the writers had a long-term plan in mind, even if the shuffling of episodes made it hard to see clearly. Intentional or not, it’s good that the previous episode did much to foreshadow possible divisions among the members of APO, because this episode brings back the Rambaldi mythology in a big way. Not only is it clear that Sloane has not changed his underlying value system, but the writers didn’t forget the main strengths of the third season: Vaughn and Sark have even more personal reason to hate each other, and that prophesy about Sydney and Nadia being deadly to one another hasn’t gone away.

In fact, if anything, it has finally been given a better connection to the overall Rambaldi mythology. The whole idea of “The Passenger” felt tacked onto the already confusing and unexplained concept of “The Chosen One”, which was only really used to good effect in one episode of the third season (“Full Disclosure”). Nadia’s existence seemed like another attempt to give the third season a feeling of relevance, since Lauren’s presence didn’t pan out as well as the writers had hoped.

The overall mythology seems to boil down to this:

Irina and Sloane, at some point more than 30 years earlier, discovered much about Rambaldi. Irina apparently knew much more than Sloane at that point, though it’s hard to judge, since he is very good at concealing just how much he knows and when he’s simply feigning ignorance to get information where he wants it to be. At any rate, Irina came to understand the core Rambaldi vision of the future: that two sisters, each brought into realization of Rambaldi’s design through their involvement in its execution, would ultimately battle one another to the death.

Sydney, “The Chosen One”, would be the one to bring about Rambaldi’s design, and through anger, use it to “render the greatest power unto utter desolation”. It’s not clear what the “greatest power” is, though one could argue that it is not a nation or alliance. (There has always been some confusion about the fact that the Chosen One was never meant to see Mt. Subasio, but since the prophecy specifically notes that it would have been “without pretense”, Sydney’s intentional trip there could easily fit within the meaning of Rambaldi’s words.)

Nadia, on the other hand, is “The Passenger”, the one who was meant to lead the followers of Rambaldi, once identified by The Telling, to the next (presumably final) piece of the Rambaldi puzzle. The process involved injecting Nadia with a concoction that was, in essence, Rambaldi’s genetic memory, thus allowing her to transcribe Rambaldi’s directions to the location of this critical device or object. Supposedly, according to the season premiere, Sloane and Nadia found that device, only to hand it over to the CIA. This allowed Sloane to once again regain a measure of pardon from the US government, but also suggested that there’s still another step to the Rambaldi mystery.

This episode finally unveils part of that step. The Magnific Order of Rambaldi has always known that “The Chosen One” and “The Passenger” would do battle over something, and thus one or both would be killed in the process. This episode places that conflict at the very heart of the mythology. The so-called “Eye of Rambaldi” (), the symbol used over and over again by the mystic, is really meant to show two equal but opposite powers (the two sisters) vying for some central, key object. It’s not hard to make a guess as to the nature of that object: the most obvious round object is, after all, the world.

Knowing Rambaldi, of course, it’s probably closer to say that it’s not the world or control of it that stands in the balance, but rather, the fate of those in the world. And what Rambaldi saw as vital to the fate of the world may not be so obvious. Whatever the case, the writers go one step further, suggesting that the two sisters would only reluctantly find themselves on opposite sides, or so Nadia’s vision strongly suggests. Something will drive them apart, and in the process, it seems that Sydney is the one fated to die.

The purpose of the Covenant, it seems, was twofold: create the “second coming of Rambaldi” by taking the genetic material of the Chosen One and melding it with the DNA hidden in a Rambaldi device, while also locating the Passenger and getting her to reveal, through the genetic memory goo, the location of an unknown Rambaldi object. If the writers are trying to fix the mistakes of the third season, then they would want to reveal how the two projects were linked. One theory, developed in the third season and still viable, is that Rambaldi never died and that a device like the one in “The Passage” was used to keep him in stasis until his new body could be created.

This theory would place Sloane’s motivations into an interesting context. Did Nadia really see what Sloane managed to find, and did Sloane really give the CIA the device he found using the coordinates Nadia provided? Or did Sloane realize that the device found revealed the location of Rambaldi, and APO is his means to some end, his way of controlling the circumstances under which Sydney and Nadia will do battle?

Whatever the case, Irina’s true condition is very important to the whole picture. The Covenant fell apart, having apparently failed in each of their main tasks, but Irina’s legacy is not so easily broken. If Irina is alive, then Jack and Sloane are working together for some unknown purpose related to that fact, and for Jack to work with Sloane, there has to be something more at work, Jack almost seems sympathetic towards Sloane at times, perhaps suggesting that he recognizes that Irina played both of them, indeed all of them, towards some still-undefined goal. Is APO meant as a force to uncover and defeat Irina’s plan to set Sydney and Nadia against one another, or Sloane’s Trojan Horse gambit, as mentioned earlier, to co-opt Irina’s plan, only to replace it with one of his own? Or, what if Jack and Sloane are working with Irina, all for the hopes of saving Sydney and Nadia from the Rambaldi design, now that it is coming to fruition?

The fact that a few short scenes, carefully placed within the context of the episode, could elicit such a deep and complex re-consideration of the mythology demonstrates, without a shred of doubt, the continued viability and necessity of the Rambaldi concept for the health of the series. At the same time, JJ’s intent has been proven valid; by letting the mythology slip into the background, informing rather than directly shaping events, it’s that much better when it does return to the forefront.

Anna’s involvement with the plot, and her apparent desire to bring about the division between Sydney and Nadia, however long-term, suggests a number of things. For one, it has already been strongly hinted that Irina constantly reshapes and redefines the nature and composition of her organization, all to ensure that her rivals and enemies must endlessly catch up to her design. If Irina is still the enemy, and not working underground for Jack and Sloane, then Anna could be working for Irina to bring about the Rambaldi endgame. If Irina is not the enemy, and Jack and Sloane are working with her, then perhaps Anna is working with someone new to bring about the conflict.

Whatever the case, Jack’s comment about Anna’s apparent resurrection, and how many people who are supposed to be dead are not, could have more than the obvious implication. It’s clear that this is a hint about Irina, but what if it also refers to Rambaldi? This would be a theory that could explain everything about the fourth season. What if a resurrected Rambaldi, utterly committed to using his followers to bring about his grand design for the world, is the thing that Sloane discovered, after Nadia left his expedition? Could Sloane and Irina have gone heretic on the object of their obsession, having perhaps seen the madness of his plans? If so, Jack would be the obvious ally, since he’s the other parent involved in the creation of the two sisters, and he would have a vested interest in protecting them. And since all three love hiding the truth from everyone else, Jack’s philosophy in “The Awful Truth” now has a possible deeper meaning: that both Sydney and Nadia are being manipulated by Jack and Sloane to ensure they remain unaware of what Irina is doing and the extent of the forces trying to drive them apart. In other words, the de-emphasis of Rambaldi is not simply to satisfy the network, but might also be viewed as the attempt to channel Sydney and Nadia into areas where they won’t encounter the Rambaldi endgame unless absolutely necessary.

Anna’s fate was never shown on screen, and JJ had always noted that her return was prevented by her rather full schedule. Gina Torres’ schedule may not be as problematic as before, but there was also the issue of how much time has passed. Thankfully, the writers managed to bring her back in a context that made perfect sense from the point of view of the character and her previously established motivations. One didn’t have to know about Anna’s past history with Sydney to understand the depth of their animosity, and that was key to making it work for new viewers.

Equally, Sark’s involvement was in keeping with his previously established personality, and he was pulled into the story in a logical context. Sark’s part in the story was actually harder to work out, in terms of the new viewers, because he was ultimately more intricately involved in the series’ history. The entire situation with Lauren alone is rather complicated. The writers simply take the challenge head-on and place Sark and Vaughn in a battle of wills. Both try to establish a sense of superiority; in this case, Sark seems to win the first match.

Beyond strong connections to the series mythology, this episode also has something else that many episodes this season have lacked: a strong sense of pacing. The episode starts off quickly and doesn’t slow down or take shortcuts. It’s great seeing Jack take command, and the best character elements of the season thus far continue to find expression, adding to the dynamic established in the previous episode.

There is, unfortunately, one major element that doesn’t make sense: Sloane’s role. In the teaser, Sloane makes it very clear that the CIA agreement placing him in charge of APO stipulated that he step down, at least temporarily, if certain people or situation arise that represent a conflict of interest. He places Jack in charge, explaining that the team is not allowed to tell him anything or allow him to be involved. All well and good, but then on more than one occasion, he manages to insert himself without penalty. While this certainly backs the theory that Jack is sympathetic to Sloane’s agenda, at least where their desires are aligned, it would have been the perfect moment for Sydney or Dixon to follow through on their previous threats.

However, Sloane’s involvement, in those key moments, was necessary to place the Rambaldi material into perspective. His tone when discussing Rambaldi is reverent, almost needlessly so, but he is also clearly concerned for Sydney and Nadia both. Taken as a plot point, the fact that Sydney and Dixon ignore the breaches of conduct speaks to the seriousness of the situation. When even the most problematic elements of the episode work to its advantage, it’s hard not to get excited about the prospects for the future.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is probably the best of the season, if only because it finally brings back elements of the Rambaldi mythology and conflicts beyond the characters associated with APO. The foreshadowing for plot threads later in the season continues apace, neatly ushering in the “complication” phase of the season. With the new viewers more or less caught up, hopefully this marks the return to the way “Alias” used to be.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 3/4

Final Rating: 9/10

Season Average (as of 4.8): 7.3

Lost 1.17: "...In Translation"

Written by Javier Grillo-Marxuach and Leonard Dick
Directed by Tucker Gates

In which Michael’s raft is set blaze, and the perpetrator appears to be Jin, which leads to the culmination of his tensions with his wife, while Sayid and Shannon find common ground…


Status Report

After the excellent previous episode, it was almost inevitable that this one would be something of a letdown. The writers do everything they can to maintain a level of quality, but there’s always going to be the subjective interpretation of the audience involved, never mind the specific production challenges that come with the territory. And ultimately, different writers have different voices and concepts of pacing, which taken in relation to the director, can vastly change the final product.

All that said, this is not a bad episode in the least. It’s not as dramatically tight as the previous episode, but as with “House of the Rising Sun”, this is an inevitable consequence of staying true to the subtitling convention established for the Korean characters. Such a convention is risky for many reasons, all brought up in the review for the earlier episode, but it does give the series a considerable mark of authenticity.

Several character threads related to the “minor” characters (Michael, Walt, Jin, Sun) clash together in a major way, which ought to please those fans clamoring for forward momentum. The Jin/Sun relationship has been building towards a confrontation for most of the season, and in keeping with the theme of the series thus far, the current resolution takes the characters into a new understanding of themselves and each other.

This is essentially the beginning of the “resolution” phase of the season, at least in terms of the character and plot arcs that the writers plan on addressing in the first season. The rest of the season ought to spiral into a series of revelations about connections between characters and hidden motivations. In a sense, Sawyer’s story in the previous episode was a clever transition out of the “complication” phase, so this episode doesn’t represent a major change in the series format or style.

The big news, of course, is that Sun’s secret is out, and Jin is rather displeased with the fact that Sun was keeping secrets from him. It certainly doesn’t help that Sun was learning to speak English so she could escape him in America, when he was planning in parallel to take her to America to escape her father’s obligations and reaffirm their marriage. The dovetailing with “House of the Rising Sun” is very well done, and with the new context afforded by Jin’s side of the story.

It’s not entirely clear, but it seems like Sun’s father used Jin’s desire to marry his daughter to place Jin in a compromising situation. Perhaps it was convenient for Sun’s father to select a husband for his willful and gorgeous daughter, someone he could keep under strict control to ensure that he would continue to control Sun’s life. Whatever the case, Jin goes from being a man striving for a woman beyond his station to a man broken and compromised in every possible way. Daniel Dae Kim does an incredible job of communicating strong emotion to the American audience, all without speaking more than a word or two of English.

Unlike Sawyer, however, whose self-loathing in the previous episode placed nearly everything he’s done on the island into clear perspective, Jin’s decisions are still somewhat hard to judge. It seems easy enough to conclude that he ran from the others because he was sure that he would be blamed, but when he was caught, why taunt Michael into beating him to a pulp? Was it simply to make Michael look bad, or was it some kind of indirect self-punishment for his actions in Korea?

At least his final decision to help Michael build a new raft makes metaphorical sense. More than any other episode, the metaphor of the caves (embracing a new life) and the beach (hanging on to the old, resisting redemption) plays a major role. Locke sounds like his namesake in a more direct fashion, explaining that he sees the island as a chance for wiping clean the sins of the past and finding a path more true to each and every person. (The fact that he attaches something of a mystical air to that philosophy is beside the point in this episode.) Jin, rejecting redemption and hanging on to his guilt from his past, fueled by his anger at Sun and personal shame, is no longer trying to work things out. So he moves from the path of redemption into a personal limbo.

Sun, on the other hand, has apparently taken another step, however distressing, towards a new way of life. She is now free to do as she wants, and it certainly agrees with her. Now that the rest of the survivors know that she can speak English, there will be distrust, but there will also be new opportunities for forging friendships and learning a new way of life. If she remains at the caves, this will be a sign that Sun is moving on, accepting the “tabula rasa” offered by the island.

Jin and Sun are not the only ones moving in separate directions. Michael, despite his experience in “Special”, is still dedicated to getting off the island as soon as possible. Less surprising, but perfectly logical, is Sawyer’s continued efforts to resist the promise of a new start. The two of them are firmly entrenched in the idea of holding on to their existing struggles. But Walt has always been more interested in what the island has to offer, and he doesn’t want to get back to the old way of life. It makes perfect sense that he would set the raft on fire (through desire or otherwise), just as it makes perfect sense that Locke would see through Walt’s tacit acceptance of Michael’s attempts at fatherhood.

Locke uses the destruction of the raft, and the fact that the rest of the survivors don’t know about Walt’s part in it, as a pretext for a moment that fits his shamanic role. He casts Ethan’s group, and perhaps even Danielle, into a vague and incredibly threatening context, as an unseen but ever-present enemy that they need to acknowledge collectively. He instantly sets them apart as a faceless band of shadows, touching on but deftly avoiding the mystical concept that those “others” have failed the test presented by the island itself. This could become very important in terms of the characters’ psychology going into the final episodes of the season. (Anyone else notice that he also has the power of changing the location and shape of blood stains on his face?)

Like last episode, Jack is barely present, coming into the story only when his leadership is needed, like when the relative peace on the island is disturbed by Jin and Michael’s escalating conflict. While he still has plenty of issues to work through, he’s becoming the leader that Locke saw inside of him in “White Rabbit”. In sharp contrast to the battle of wills at play several episodes earlier, Locke and Sayid seem to have fallen back into the role of Jack’s “cabinet”, each advising Jack in their area of expertise, then falling in line with whatever Jack decides.

Kate is also in the background, playing the role of Sun’s advisor. She serves to remind the audience that Sun has had more than enough chances to tell Jin about her ability to speak English. She’s also had plenty of chances to commit to her husband fully, rather than simply maintain her current transitional state. It is surprising, however, to see that Kate hadn’t joined Sawyer as a passenger on Michael’s raft. That suggests that she’s still on the fence regarding the possibility of a new life (something she seems to run to, only to fall back into established patterns).

Sawyer, fresh off his uncomfortable look into his own motivations in the previous episode, shows little desire for change this time around. That might sound like bad continuity at first, but it makes sense that Sawyer’s slow and uncertain transition from self-loathing packrat to upstanding citizen would take more than a few bad memories to escalate. Besides, he seems to find some value in letting someone else become the group’s punching bag, and while he went more than a little overboard, he was indirectly looking after the will of the community.

Sayid wisely realizes that Michael and Jin need to settle their accounts and just get it over with, before more resentment turns into a justification for far worse than a few punches. He remembers from “House of the Rising Sun” how little it took for the two to go for the kill, and he’s faced his own demons for his decision to torture Sawyer soon after. Beyond that, his tentative interest in Shannon is rather sweet, and it’s fun to see a man usually so sure of himself stumbling over Shannon’s open interest.

Charlie and Claire are now operating as something of a couple, though still struggling themselves with the idea of letting go of the past. Ironically, where Charlie was ready to step back into familiar patterns, putting Claire at arm’s length, Claire was forced to make the decision all over again. Both of them were thereby placing on equal footing, and together, they seem to be building a new future together (and perhaps, including her child).

Hurley’s most important contribution was not his potential as a comic device, though of course, the final scene was a brilliant moment (especially his reaction to seeing how similar he was to Claire!). Hurley played the same role for Jin that Kate played for Sun, providing one last chance at turning from the path of bitterness. The importance of the scenes in “Whatever the Case May Be” is now quite clear. Careful viewers will also notice that Hurley was on Korean television for some reason; one would think that it was an early tease related to his story, which comes with the next episode.

Boone and Shannon seem to be following the same kind of pattern as Jin and Sun or Michael and Walt. For all that Boone has decided to follow Locke’s example as something of an acolyte, he’s letting Sayid’s possible relationship with Shannon impede his psychological progress. This is something that Locke cannot have missed, and he’s already shown a growing impatience with Boone’s weaknesses. Boone has shown a desire to take on more responsibility than he can handle, and if he decides to make a grand gesture to restore Locke’s faith, he could find himself the first major victim of the series.

Shannon, on the other hand, seems to have taken Locke’s advice to heart. With the prospect of finding a way back to the real world becoming less and less likely, Shannon has little reason to cling to her old ways. Besides, Sayid has been shown as a dependable man in need of a reason to let go of the past, and Shannon’s needs mesh well with his own. Never mind the fact that Shannon knows how to paint a picture; Maggie delivered that line about a rope and Saturday night in a way that any man would love to hear, especially from her!

The final scene is perhaps indicative of how the episode compares with the previous installment of the series. Instead of ending on a perfect grace note to a highly focused and perfectly paced story, this episode ends with a comic scene that has nothing to do with the central events. While there was a central theme of growing apart or coming together, the former embodied in the Jin/Sun dynamic and the latter embodied in the Sayid/Shannon romance, the structure of the episode wasn’t as strong as it could have been. Add to that an over-reliance on the hand-held camera work, which was far more noticeable in this episode than in the past, and the final product isn’t quite as solid.

As already mentioned, this episode was also up against the same challenge that plagued “House of the Rising Sun”. Much of the episode requires the use of subtitles, and that can be annoying to many viewers. (Never mind that winter storm warnings in the Northeast covered the subtitles during the teaser!) This time, the effect was partially mitigated by the clever intersection of Sun’s previously established point of view and Jin’s fresh perspective. Now, the character development has given the writers an extra tool in overcoming that challenge.

Now is as good a time as any to address the ongoing issue of the recent ratings drop. In many ways, this was inevitable. The network was savvy enough to air nearly the entire first half of the season straight through the fall, but there’s the price that comes when the remaining episodes have to be strung out over nearly 20 weeks of programming time. The early episodes built up huge word of mouth, leading to very strong ratings; now, some casual viewers have dropped off as episodes have been missed, and other viewers have decided not to let the story play itself out on its own timetable.

The fact is, the ratings have been hovering around the same number of estimated viewers since the beginning of the season. A second season is practically a given. There have been some ups and downs, but nothing that one wouldn’t expect over time. The same is true of the quality of the series. Even when it’s not as good as it could be, it still covers all the basics and then some, providing some of the best and most consistent character development on television in quite some time. This episode is no exception.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was not quite as strong as the previous installment, largely due to a less focused approach and some spotty camera work. The extensive subtitling once again presents a challenge, but this time, the inherent drama helps the writers to overcome that difficulty. Character development is once again the order of the day, and it would appear that the season has shifted from “complication” to “resolution”, promising more defining moments in the future.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 1/2
Style: 2/4

Final Rating: 7/10

Season Average (as of 1.16): 7.8

Roswell 2.12: "We Are Family"

Written by Gretchen Berg and Aaron Harberts
Directed by David Grossman

In which Valenti must face the consequences when he continues to defy authority, while Michael discovers something unusual when another search for Laurie leads to an old photograph…


Status Report

This is the continuation of the so-called “Hybrid Chronicles”, as the network collectively called them, but this was really just the second part of a four-episode arc that took place during the sweeps period. Like the episode that came before it, certain elements were retooled after the announcement that the season would be extended to 22 episodes (which ultimately became 21). In particular, the treatment of Alex and his return was very specific, meant to lead into the plot thread that was still being worked out as the assumptive series-ending arc.

The focus of the story, however, is still very much on Valenti and the cost of his haphazard actions on the behalf of the hybrids themselves. More plot elements are dropped concerning Laurie Dupree and the reasons behind her abduction, but this is mostly about Valenti’s rapid decline. It’s also an interesting look at how the teens react to the realization that defeating the threat from the Skins didn’t let them off the hook. If anything, after months of holding on to some concept of predestination, the sudden lack of direction has led to mental errors and bad judgment.

The opening scene demonstrates how far Valenti let things get out of control. Isabel may have been right, but she and Max never considered the impact on Valenti, especially with someone breathing down his neck the entire time. With Laurie found and a ton of questions still to be answered, there’s no time to make sure the stories are consistent. Valenti, unable to think quickly on his feet, makes more than enough mistakes to bury his chances of getting out of the situation cleanly.

Laurie, however, quickly escalates the situation by leaving the hospital. That places the entire area into a new sense of paranoia, since no one’s sure whether or not the original kidnapper has struck again. Because of the way the case was handled (and as seen in the third season, the slow but steady return of the Special Unit’s subversive tactics), Agent Duff of the FBI is sent in to find Laurie. She convinces Valenti to help out on the case, claiming ambition, but it’s probably closer to the truth to assume that she’s there to observe Valenti and see if she can assess his role in terms of the children in town. Just by pursuing that, her reports would be perfect for the reborn Special Unit to study.

Adding to the list of potential suspects, Alex returns from his time away in Sweden. Since the characters never talked about the fact that he left, the details are kept incredibly vague, beyond what Alex tells them upon his return. This plays into the intentions of the writers for the “final” plot thread, since it lets the rest of the characters make assumptions based on Alex’s apparent memories and those slides. But it also represents something of a shift in Alex’s intended role for this arc. After all, when the story was first conceived, episode 14 was the end of the series. So Alex’s return, and his changed behavior, was probably originally intended to play a role similar to Sean Deluca, presenting another possible suspect in Laurie’s kidnapping.

Kyle hasn’t been deeply involved in the affairs of the hybrids since the beginning of the season, beyond his relationship of sorts with Tess and the situation in “Wipeout!”. This is entirely appropriate, especially since he was never very sympathetic with Max and the others, even after his life was saved. He turned to Buddhism more out of a desire to overcome his anxiety about the hybrids than anything else, and by now, he’s realizing that it doesn’t help. At least part of his negative attitude has to be the impression that his welfare is being placed below the welfare of the hybrids, for whom Valenti had become something of a father figure.

Perhaps predictably, Michael doesn’t give a damn what happens to Valenti, even if he is the one who benefits the most from Valenti’s attention. While it serves the purposes of the plot for Michael to be at the crime scene, so he can find the gandarium crystal, it shows a distinct lack of consideration. As Valenti points out, the situation was already bad enough without the FBI getting involved. (It also seems odd that Michael would be able to visit the scene unnoticed, since someone would inevitably be watching to see if the kidnapper returned.)

Meanwhile, that night, Max intentionally dallies at the Crashdown to keep an eye on Liz. The two of them are clearly getting closer together again, perhaps in the wake of “A Roswell Christmas Carol”, and Liz is making an effort to make Max feel welcome. She’s still worried about Future Max and his predictions of doom, even if the Skins have been defeated and there’s little indication of reinforcements on the way. But her decision to deny Sean the joys of Asteroid Pie, saving the last couple of slices for her and Max, speaks volumes.

Alex definitely displays more confidence than ever, especially when it comes to dealing with Isabel. He might still be interested in her, but his life is no longer revolving around her every whim. If anything, that seems to catch her attention. After all, it was easy enough to keep Alex at a distance when he was openly pursuing her. Having a guy act with less desperation must be new for the gorgeous party girl.

The writers establish that Laurie was paranoid schizophrenic, which actually makes the overall plot arc complicated at best and impossible to reconcile at worst. While it makes it very easy for Valenti and others to explain away her ravings about aliens, some of her claims are obviously true. The gandarium were using Grant to their own ends, so in a sense, “aliens” were kidnapping her. But how exactly did Laurie know about the aliens, if she was being specific?

But far more bizarre is Valenti’s decision to hide Laurie from Agent Duff and have the hybrids come and keep an eye on her. There’s a specific plot convenience involved in that decision, since Laurie must see Michael to mention the fact that he’s supposedly dead. But if Laurie is screaming about the fact that the “aliens” were the ones who kidnapped her, wouldn’t he realize that it would be bad to put her in the same room with aliens? (Never mind what Duff or others would begin to think if they found out that the same teens working with Valenti were the ones Laurie felt a need to run away from!)

Just hours after Max told Liz that someone is out there kidnapping people, one would think that Liz’s discovery of Sean in her house might give her pause. After all, the guy was trespassing and stealing, even though he has a place to stay and somewhere to get food. Instead, she completely ignores the whole issue, to the point where he hits on her and she’s completely unaware of it. Since Sean was introduced largely to feed on the whole kidnapping fear, this scene is completely wasted.

Meanwhile, at the grocery store (apparently explaining why Tess wasn’t called in to help), Kyle gets to overhear locals talking trash about his father. It’s a good scene for three reasons. First, it continues to show Kyle and Tess growing into a pseudo-sibling relationship, with some residual lust lingering in the air. Second, it gives the whole situation a “real world” angle, reminding the audience that there are consequences for Valenti quite apart from the need to protect the hybrids. And finally, it firmly establishes that Amy is very serious regarding her relationship with Valenti.

Laurie’s ravings certainly sound like schizophrenia, and they are similar enough to the claims of aliens kidnapping her to make it all sound like delusional ranting. But as with the earlier scene, it makes it hard to understand why someone would go through all the trouble to abduct her. And why she was relatively sane at the end of the previous episode, despite not being on medication for days!

Things go from bad and confusing to much, much worse when Laurie sees Michael. This is a fairly obvious plot point, in retrospect, but it’s easy to forget that the hybrids had to have gotten their human DNA from somewhere. But it does serve to openly expose Valenti and make any chance of saving his job completely moot. It’s been a long time coming, going back since the end of the first season, but it’s still tragic to watch his entire world fall apart.

The conversation between Alex and Liz is obviously a late addition to the script. It has a ton of elements that play into the arc at the end of the season, especially in terms of Alex’s dialogue. Alex mentions that he sometimes “doesn’t recognize himself”, and constantly talks about the “old” and “new” Alex Whitman. Considering the fact that he was only supposed to be away for a month, it’s hard to imagine that he would really feel like a new young man in that period of time, especially since he slips right back into his old life. Add to that the curious episode continuity mistake in Liz’s dialogue, and it feels like a late addition to the script.

With everything happening, and the hybrids more or less unaware of the depth of the disaster for the Valenti household, Kyle is understandably confrontational. So it doesn’t help when Max asks him to put himself on the line again, all for some evidence that has worse implications for Max and the others than his father, despite what Max might say. By the time Max talks to Liz, however, the message seems to be sinking in. He hears Liz talk about wanting to see the world, and realizes that he and the others are holding their human allies back from the life they deserve to live. Oddly, it was something that Max had a hard time seeing when Liz was trying to explain it at the beginning of the season.

Kyle does exactly what Max asks him to do, but he can’t disguise his disgust over the situation, even when Tess helps him save his own skin. With his father’s formal dismissal, Kyle has every reason to tell Max to take a flying leap. The writers use the situation to place Tess in a difficult position. Still on the outside looking in when it comes to the other hybrids, the Valenti household has become her one source of stability. But it’s impossible for her not to take Kyle’s words against Max, Michael, and Isabel personally. It would have been easy to miss that aspect of the situation, but the writers make an effort to include that dynamic.

Max and Isabel seem sympathetic to Valenti’s plight, but not enough to actually do something about it. This is interesting, because Valenti got himself in his current plight because he was acting on their behalf, not his own. If Isabel hadn’t gone to Valenti and forced him to take action based on her dream-walking, the current crisis would not have come to pass. Yet for all that, Michael’s dismissive words about honoring the fact that Valenti chose their cause give Max and Isabel all the absolution they need.

It’s interesting that Max doesn’t try to include Liz on the analysis of the blue crystal. She might have been able to tell them more about the meaning of the blue cellular structure. For one thing, such a structure is inherently organic in nature, despite appearances. Also, the type of sample taken and analyzed strongly suggests an organic source. Liz would probably know that, and would be able to tell them something meaningful about what was found at the crime scene.

The rest of the episode is a nice transitional phase, moving from Valenti’s downward spiral towards the second half of the arc. Amy helps Valenti resist the urge to isolate himself from the rest of the world, keeping his spirits up and giving him perspective. Sean actually helps Liz deal with the fact that she wants more out of life than Max can currently give her, something that would continue to stand in their way for a few more episodes. But the best scene might be the one between Tess and Kyle, where Kyle awkwardly displays the depth of his affection for Tess, when she thinks that he wants her out of the house. It’s quite unfortunate that the subsequent episodes would stray away from the romance that was building between them.

The most important revelation, however, comes with the final scene, in which Michael and Isabel find a picture of Laurie’s grandfather from 1932, and it looks exactly like Michael. It creates a connection between Michael’s hybrid DNA and the human source that must have somehow been involved, but it also raises several other questions, that can now be added to the list that began after the previous episode. Those questions were:

Did Grant really abduct Laurie?
Why Laurie was abducted and placed in the ground?
What is the connection between Isabel and Laurie?
What did Isabel see when she touched Laurie?
How did Dan know so much about Valenti’s activities?
Was Dan there specifically to look into Max’s connection to Valenti?
Will Valenti lose his job while trying to protect the hybrids? (Answered!)
What will happen to Kyle?
Will Liz become attracted to Sean, and will she toss him aside for Max, as her dream suggests?

Only one of those questions has been answered in this episode: Valenti did, in fact, lose his job for protecting the hybrids. The new questions are:

Is Agent Duff really there just to investigate Laurie’s disappearance?
Does Laurie really have paranoid schizophrenia?
Why was her file at the psychiatric hospital empty?
How are Michael and Laurie’s grandfather connected?
How did Laurie know about aliens being involved in her abduction?
What is the crystal, and why does it seem to be alive?
Why was the crystal placed in the same spot that Laurie was buried?
Why wasn’t the crystal at the crime scene when Laurie was found?

That’s 16 questions raised by the past two episodes, presumably to be answered by the end of the mini-arc comprised of episodes 11 through 14. As the episodes continue, this will be used as a measure of how the need to revise the mini-arc from a series finale to an ongoing story, to accommodate the network waffling, seriously affected the ability of the writers to do their job correctly.

This is another strong episode for Valenti, and many of the character moments are very well done. But the central plot doesn’t really go anywhere new, since the events that take place are either already in motion when the episode begins (Valenti’s fall) or setting up the events to follow (Michael’s discovery about Laurie). The theme of family is covered by Alex’s return, the dynamic between Kyle and Tess, and of course, the final scene, but it’s a very loose theme that masks the fact that the episode is largely transitional.

None of which is very surprising, since the story started in the previous episode, and the next two episodes are technically a two-part installment. So this is the middle installment of a kind of trilogy, and typically, the second part of a trilogy is the weakest link, since most of the pieces are on the board but the endgame is still several moves away. The result is an episode that takes a relatively obvious consequence and drags it out over the course of an hour. In the long run, most of what happens in this episode could have easily been covered at the beginning of the next. Considering the blistering pace of the first half of the season, that’s not something that one would have expected.


Memorable Quotes

TESS: “Let’s get out of here…this polyester number is not working for me…”

SEAN: “Alice.”
ALEX: “Hey, that’s funny…I haven’t heard that since they put you away!”

LIZ: “We’re friends. You know…we’re friends plus…”

TESS: “Kyle?”
KYLE: “What?”
TESS: “You’re definitely my favorite human.”
KYLE: “Yeah, well…you’re my favorite Martian…”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is something of a mess. Being at the center of a four-episode arc, the events are largely transitional. As tragic as Valenti’s slow but steady fall might be, most of what happens in this episode is thematically a repeat of what happened in the previous episode. Alex’s return is quite welcome, as is the relationship between Kyle and Tess, but that’s not enough to overcome the weaknesses.

Writing: 1/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 1/2
Style: 1/4

Final Rating: 5/10

24 4.10: "Day 4: 4PM - 5PM"

Written by Stephen Kronish and Peter Lenkov
Directed by Brad Turner

In which Jack’s resolution to Behrooz’s captivity leads him to the terrorists’ control center, while CTU discovers a connection between the property and someone in Audrey’s life…


Status Report

With this episode, the season arc jumps into the “complication” phase with both feet. In less than an hour, most of the possible leads are taken out of play and everything comes back to one or two sources of information. Meanwhile, the override device still hasn’t been located, and it’s becoming rather clear that the story is going to remain focused on the nuclear meltdown scenario and its aftermath. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, especially when the story is as dense as the current episodes would imply.

The first few minutes are spent in exposition mode, with the various characters all summing up the current situation and what everyone’s doing about it. This includes Navi, who dutifully explains things to Marwan from the terrorist point of view. Marwan helpfully mentions that the meltdowns are delayed by an hour or so by the fact that CTU has interfered, forcing each reactor to be handled individually. This places a very short window on the resolution of the override matter: by the end of the next episode, Marwan ought to be ready to finish the operation. At the same time, Edgar (still grieving from the previous episode’s drama) promises to try slowing things down even further. (This is typically what is known as “hedging one’s bets”, since the writers aren’t sure how they’re going to plot out future episodes.)

Curtis finally gets to interrogate Marianne, and it’s rather clear that he would love to use a few of the torture techniques that were used on Sarah. For some reason, that doesn’t happen, though some psychological torture is used instead. While Marianne doesn’t have much information herself, being only a pawn in the game, she does know where Powell kept his contact list. The fact that it needs her thumbprint for access seems odd, but she could have had full access to Powell’s plan, without really keeping the details in mind.

Far more quickly than one would expect from Navi’s plan, Jack repels down into the hospital laundry area and a brutal fight ensues. Jack quickly gets the drop on Navi, but then the inevitable happens: Behrooz picks up his father’s gun and drills the bastard through the back. Behrooz certainly had every reason in the world to do it, but from Jack’s perspective it couldn’t have been worse. Granted, Navi may not have been willing to talk, but it was still another possible source of information.

For those still waiting for something horrible to happen to Tony, this is a tense moment. Behrooz looks ready to go out in a blaze of glory, and it’s only the fact that the writers understand that the audience has something invested in him that has kept the plot thread viable. The writers nicely take the audience to the point where they are happy that a young terrorist shot his own father in the back out of revenge. As predicted, some reviewers finally figured that out, and noted how clever it was. Indeed, there are layers to the writing this season that have been overlooked by a lot of the audience!

To make matters worse, Dina promptly holds up her end of the bargain by revealing that she never really had the location of the override. On the face of it, this seems like a bit of a dodge, some excuse to keep up the tension. But Dina then explains that she can give the location where Navi handed the override over to those currently running the show (Marwan). Technically, she (and the writers) were being honest.

Somewhat less honest is the contrived reason for sending Curtis with Marianne to inspect Powell’s computer for the contact list. Driscoll should have been well aware of the fact that sending Curtis was the wrong idea, and considering her previous comments about remaining in command of her own organization, she lets Heller and Audrey run rings around her and make the call. Perhaps to remind herself that she can occasionally make decisive (if entirely wrong) calls, she gives Sarah a few excuses for the torture and lets the young woman go back to work.

Much of the season’s plot culminates, if only for a few minutes, in a single room’s worth of information. The terrorist hideout is an impressive piece of work, if only because it actually looks like a place where people would be able to plan things out in a logical manner. Usually, when such rooms are revealed, articles and photos are tacked up at random, as if a busy and cluttered workspace translates into intent. Far more disturbing is the methodical and progressive display of information for each phase of the operation. As the season marches on, it’s almost certain that the location will become a regular source of new leads for the investigation.

Very quickly, however, the plot turns in a direction that the writers carefully placed within view, but wisely left in the background: Paul Raines. Paul’s involvement makes logical sense. The terrorists used Heller’s son Richard, even without his knowledge, so it logically follows that they would be willing to use another disaffected family member to the cause. Also, every single character introduced thus far has been, in some sense, connected to the overall story. It was only a question of how Paul would end up having an effect; in this case, it could be highly significant to the relationship between Jack and Audrey.

Once again, Tony has the chance to get out of the situation cleanly, and Jack convinces him to make the more difficult choice and return to CTU with Dina and Behrooz. In all fairness, Tony has every right to wonder if getting back involved with CTU is the right move. Certainly Jack is being honest with him, but there’s no chance in hell that Driscoll is honestly open to the thought. She’s only going along with it because Heller would overrule her if Jack pressed on the matter, and she’s more than happy to let Tony hang himself again, even if only by appearances.

As it is, Heller is ready to rip her head off when he discovers that Audrey elected to distract Paul while Jack and the CTU teams are en route. Driscoll tries to tell Heller that Jack tried to stop her, as if Jack’s actions would reflect well on her, but Heller’s not stupid. It’s clear that Heller has come to the valid conclusion that Driscoll has little or no control over the situation, and that the real decisions are in Jack’s hands. And since Jack technically works for Heller, well, Driscoll is stuck following Jack’s lead.

Driscoll lets Tony handle the interrogation, going along with what Jack and Heller would prefer, but she also decides to use Sarah as her personal slave. Driscoll is looking for any excuse to claim that Jack and/or Tony are acting outside of protocol, so she can get back some measure of control (even though she clearly doesn’t deserve it). Sarah sees right through it, and uses Driscoll’s desperation to get her record repaired and a promotion on top of it. Driscoll, an idiot to the end, agrees. Apparently she’s not thinking about what happens if she doesn’t end up on top, and Sarah finds it more expedient to turn on her and report the underhanded office politics to Division.

As one would expect, at Powell’s office, Marianne claims not to know anything about Paul’s connection to the terrorist’s base of operations. In fact, Marianne claims not to know anything of any value. While this is in keeping with her character, it does begin to feel like a writing convenience, especially when the same people who killed Powell walk in, ventilate Marianne and the rest of the agents, and take Curtis into custody. Like previous seasons, the story is turning away from international terrorists towards something far more domestic. As predictable as this is, it does play to the paranoia surrounding mega-corporations and the secret agenda of those backing a more vague definition of the War on Terror.

This is mixed well with the tension of Audrey’s meeting with Paul, which quickly descends into something very disturbing. It’s clear that Audrey has no real intention of ever giving Paul a second chance, now that his possible connection to terrorism is becoming more and more probable, but it’s not at all good for her to see Jack confront Paul with violence. Despite the fact that Audrey understands the position that Jack is in, it’s going to be impossible for her to ignore the personal implications of the confrontation.

The general direction of Driscoll’s machinations and Jack’s confrontation with Paul suggests a dirty political scenario. Jack, in the time he has left, might have to take desperate action against Paul to get the necessary intelligence. Audrey is right there to see it and question Jack’s motivations. All it would take is one small misstep for Driscoll to claim that Jack stepped over the line, outside protocol, for her to get the upper hand. After all, if Audrey questions Jack’s motives, would Heller be so quick to defend him? Probably not, and if Tony happens to slip as well, Jack could find himself without allies in short order.

This is where the limited time frame comes into play. Marwan ought to be ready to trigger the other reactors within the next episode. That leaves more than half the season left, and the “complication” phase of the season arc typically extends until around episode 16. At the current pace, the fallout of the reactor meltdown crisis and the subsequent scramble to find the real culprits could easily coincide with politicized backstabbing at CTU. (This would also be the perfect time for Michelle to arrive on the scene; imagine her having to take sides between Driscoll and Jack/Tony…plenty of opportunity for tense drama!)

As often mentioned, all of these potential plot threads, even if they proceed exactly as predicted, are far more exciting and fascinating than the material at this point in the third season. The extra time may not have given the writers a chance to get ahead of the production schedule, but it did give them the kind of mental reboot necessary to think more capably on the fly. Even this episode, with more plot conveniences than many of the episodes that came before it, hangs together very well and delivers on its own promises. (If only FOX would stop pretending that every episode pushes the violence boundary!)

In the end, however, the writers have those plot conveniences to look back on and consider while pressing forward at breakneck speed. It’s not uncommon, when under a tight deadline, to get the “big moments” and essentials in all the right places, especially when there’s some experience to draw upon. The problem is that little errors creep in, here and there, and over time, it gets harder and harder to avoid the shortcuts that lead to stupid mistakes. The conveniences were easy enough to explain away this time; hopefully, the writers don’t let it get any worse than that in the future.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode introduced even more complications into the story arc, even as the investigation seems to be gaining momentum with every minute that ticks by. The CTU intrigue was somewhat more grounded in this episode, promising future strife for Jack, but the writers avoided any unnecessarily overwrought subplots. There were some plot contrivances, but they were well within the context of the episode and easily dismissed. The writers should take care, however, to keep such shortcuts to a minimum.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 2/4

Final Rating: 8/10

Season Average (as of 4.10): 7.7

Enterprise 4.15: "Affliction"

Written by Mike Sussman and Manny Coto
Directed by Michael Grossman

In which Phlox is kidnapped by Klingons who want him to cure a plague that seems to be altering their appearance before killing them, while Reed is forced to help cover up the truth…


Captain’s Log

Following the cancellation news, it was easy to let that overshadow the episodes themselves. It didn’t help that the previous episode was an odd choice for the final part of a trilogy that seemed to be about Federation. But with this episode, Manny Coto brings the continuity of the fourth season to another level, not only in terms of the ongoing plot threads of recent episodes, but the franchise as a whole.

Not so long ago, Brannon Braga complained about fans who were more interested in “continuity porn” than true storytelling. Braga did things his way for three seasons, and beyond some token references to elements of the original series, most of the plot threads were related to the Temporal Cold War and stand-alone episodes that did little to hold viewer interest. Now Coto is delivering exactly what the fans wanted, and this episode is the perfect example of Braga’s “continuity porn” imaginable: why the appearance of the Klingons is so different during the original series.

On the face of it, this is probably one of the most “Trek geek” questions imaginable. Chances are, this was never going to appeal to a wider audience. For the diehard Trek fan, however, this is about as good as it gets. Beyond the Klingon question, there’s also the return of Section 31, one of the other continuity items high on the fan list. In both cases, the treatment is well within established franchise continuity. In terms of “Enterprise” continuity, there are more than a few references to episodes from earlier in the season. “Home”, in particular, continues to play its appointed part, as plot and character elements from that episode pay off.

In terms of the Klingon question, the answer is elegantly simple. During the “Augment Arc”, the Klingons became aware of Human genetic engineering, and decided that a smarter, stronger enemy was a bad thing. Inevitably, that lead to Klingon experiments involving the use of Augment DNA to enhance their own people. The result was the immediate conversion from the typical Klingon appearance to something more Human. Unfortunately for the Klingons, the result was also deadly, being imperfect, and after mixing with a type of flu, airborne.

This goes a long way towards explaining how the change took place and why it spread through much of the Klingon Empire. As this episode quickly explains, the Klingons were more than happy to kill thousands, even millions, to keep something so deadly from eliminating the species. Phlox was kidnapped to find a cure, but with no time to do so, the more likely solution is a stop-gap measure: finding a way to make the Augment process successful, leaving it to a future generation to find the cure and allow the Klingons to revert to their proper appearance.

Beyond the “Augment Arc”, there’s also an interesting connection to the “Vulcan Arc”. When Phlox is kidnapped, a rather attractive Hoshi is the only witness. She can’t remember the details, so Archer asks T’Pol to mind-meld with Hoshi. Considering the fact that T’Pol is only now beginning to understand the true legacy of Surak and his teachings, including getting over the recent stigma against melding, it’s not a simple task. Archer, of all people, happens to have some small knowledge of the technique necessary, thanks to his experience with Surak’s katra.

It’s not the most logical of explanations, but it does provide for a strong continuity reference and a nice scene between T’Pol and Hoshi. It also serves to present the conflict for Reed. Archer and Enterprise were never supposed to have a lead, because someone else has a vested interest in the situation in the Empire. It certainly seems as though Section 31, the covert ops division included in the Starfleet charter (originally introduced during the “DS9” series), had something to do with Phlox’s kidnapping. They certainly want to impede any efforts by Enterprise to rescue Phlox, which also serves to cover their own involvement.

This, of course, presents more than a small problem for Reed. It appears that Reed was once working with Section 31, something that seems hard to reconcile at first, until one remembers that he’s quite paranoid about the threats to Earth and his specialties with weapons technology. Section 31’s mandate, to protect Earth (and later, the Federation) against all possible threats would seem to fit Reed’s original characterization quite well. But it also means that Reed is stuck between his duty to Archer and his duty to his former masters. It’s the most attention given to Reed in quite some time, and it’s a welcome development.

All of which brings up an interesting question about Section 31’s involvement in the Klingon situation. Section 31 facilitated Phlox’s kidnapping, which means that they know about the situation in the Empire. The obvious conclusion is that Section 31 is working with the Klingons to cover up the genetic experiments, possibly to ensure that the connection to Human Augments is kept hidden. Of course, there could be other interpretations of their actions, and since this is the first part of a two-part story, there could be additional information still lacking.

Beyond the Klingon question and the connections to Section 31, there’s also Trip’s transfer to the Columbia, commanded by Archer’s most recent love interest, Captain Hernandez. Trip was originally shown as one hell of an engineer, but as time passed, his impatience and stubborn streak were emphasized in favor of his technical skill. This episode finally shows him in his element again, despite the circumstances of his departure from Enterprise, and that’s very good to see. He’s tough, but between his work on Columbia and the huge hole in engineering support left on Enterprise, Trip’s worth is more than adequately reinforced.

As if the rest of the plot elements weren’t enough, there’s also a subplot related to T’Pol’s mind-meld. T’Pol, Trip, and Hoshi all find themselves having an odd reaction in the wake of the meld. For some odd reason, opening up a connection to Hoshi’s mind has placed all three of them in a kind of undesired melded state. From time to time, they begin experiencing a connection, and in this case, Hoshi begins to pick up on the romantic overtones of the relationship between Trip and T’Pol. Hopefully, that will not lead to an easy future resumption of that subplot, since it was not nearly as successful as Berman and Braga thought it would be in the third season.

Unlike most episodes of “Enterprise”, the plot is not the only draw. Most of the characters get a chance to shine in moments that fit their previous character development (such as it was). Archer, as usual, gets to show some of the grit that he acquired in the Expanse, but also some of the weariness of a commander who has gotten too used to having friends in key positions. Once upon a time, everyone on the crew was dealing with the learning curve; now, Archer has little patience for unnecessary delays. But the real meat of the story is his fury towards Reed, which is kept under relative control, but communicated without doubt.

T’Pol’s struggles with emotional control since “Kir’Shara” have been relegated to background noise, thankfully, since it works better as an ongoing character trait than a full-blown subplot. So far, only one episode since that time has shown T’Pol as overly emotive, and that was “United”. One could easily dismiss each new display of emotion now, and given her lack of experience with melding (and Archer’s undoubtedly incomplete instruction), it makes sense that there would be a consequence. It could turn into a horrible subplot, but for now, it actually opens some interesting doors.

Trip’s time on Columbia, as already mentioned, has revived some aspects of his character that had long since become drowned in neuromessage and a stubborn insistence that the universe bend to his moral will. Granted, many engineers are control freaks (speaking as one), but they are also still engineers, and that means focusing on the technology. Shaking things up by putting Trip on another ship (thereby also widening the scope of the series for a little while) helps the character tremendously. The moments on Columbia more than make up for the awkward conversation at the top of the hour.

It’s been quite a while since Phlox was placed in a serious moral dilemma, so this is definitely a good episode for him. It makes sense for the Klingons and/or Section 31 to turn to Phlox as a non-human with knowledge of viral propagation and Augment DNA. For that matter, in the “Augment Arc”, Phlox revealed that Denobulans have a great deal of experience with genetic engineering, not to mention Phlox’s knowledge of mutagenic plagues from “Extinction” (which probably should have been mentioned). His moral outrage and constant arguments with The Klingon doctor were nearly perfect.

Of the characters most often ignored by the writers, Reed gets the most attention. But Hoshi also gets her moment in the sun. Not only does she get to show off how hot she is in civilian clothing, but her experience with T’Pol brings up a character element largely ignored since “Exile”. That episode hinted that Hoshi’s facility with language could be related to a latent psychic ability, akin to the “esper” concept in the original series (something quickly dropped but still relevant). This would explain why the melding wasn’t ended smoothly. If this was the intent of the writers, then it would give at least some sense of closure.

The only character to be left out of the character development is, of course, Mayweather. The writers have never known what to do with him. The episodes that focused on his character in the first and second season were some of the worst of the series, thanks to Montgomery’s limited acting range. One might have hoped that the Coto regime would be able to remedy this long-standing oversight, but that hasn’t been the case. He gets more screen time, sure, but he’s still just a “catch all” character that gets inserted whenever the other characters are otherwise occupied.

John Schuck and James Avery give strong performances as the Klingon supporting characters of Antaak and General K’Vagh. Overall, like the Reed subplot, the Klingon scenes provide several strong continuity references to “DS9” and the overall basis of Klingon culture. There are even some subtle references to the Klingon culture as depicted in “The Final Reflection”, one of the earliest Trek novels (and one that, for some time, defined the Klingon culture before it was altered during “Next Generation”). References to the H’urq invasion remind the audience that this is all about giving the Klingons the kind of continuity repair granted to the Vulcans earlier in the season; franchise continuity is melded with “Enterprise” continuity where possible, and the rest is more or less ignored (or it has been thus far).

The direction was very strong for this episode, especially given the amount of character development and the layered plot structure. Few episodes of “Enterprise” have been so densely packed or quickly paced, but the direction was smooth, as if the entire production understood how strong the episode would be. Even the score was inspired, which is a rare thing for this series. Usually, the score is generic Trek, barely matching the tone of any given scene; this episode, like “The Forge”, had an evocative score that seemed closer to the percussive style used on “Battlestar: Galactica” than previous episodes of the series.

With all of the continuity references to the franchise history and episodes earlier in the series, this episode is a fine example of what a lot of fans were expecting out of the first season. Indeed, this is a strong continuation of plot threads developed in the fourth season overall, proving that a strong writing staff with a sense of Trek lore can actually tell strong stories within continuity. It’s possible that the second half of this tale will far short of the first, but if the writers stick to their current game plan, this ought to be the most satisfying arc of the season.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is one of the strongest of the season, and perhaps one of the best of the series. Several plot and character elements come together in this episode, and the solution to the Klingon appearance issue is perfectly logical. Once again, the Coto regime manages to take more than a few fan-driven concerns and forge them into an exciting Trek adventure. This is “Enterprise” on top of its game.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 4/4

Final Rating: 10/10

Season Average (as of 4.15): 7.6

Alias 4.7: "Detente"

Written by Monica Breen and Alison Schapker
Directed by Craig Zisk

In which Sydney’s disdain for Sloane and his current authority causes trouble when she and her sister Nadia violate orders during a mission to prevent the spread of a deadly weapon…


Status Report

One of the major sticking points this season has been the difficult suspension of disbelief regarding Sloane. There’s such a terrible history associated with the character, even during his presumably first round of “making amends”, that it seems ludicrous to think that anyone, never mind Sydney and the rest of the team, would willingly work for him.

This episode was promoted by the network as something of a “sister act’, which is really only a small part of the episode’s charm. Sure, Sydney and Nadia make like the Paris/Nicole type, all in the name of bonding with another supposed ditz to get top secret information from a Russian crime boss, but that’s not the overall concept of the episode. As much as the relationship between the two sisters is highlighted, it’s used as a means to a much more interesting end: exploring Sydney’s deep conflict with her current employment situation.

It’s been a long time coming, and it doesn’t help that the network tossed the episodes around like a salad, dumping a couple of episodes ahead of this one in the hopes (one would think) of getting new viewers hooked on the whole Sydney/Vaughn relationship. All well and good, but it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to realize that Sydney’s issues with Sloane should have come up almost immediately following the season premiere. And indeed, this episode was supposed to follow “The Awful Truth”, directly connecting Sydney’s doubts in the premiere and quickly following up on the strained relationship between Nadia and Sloane.

Even taking the bizarre episode order into account, this is exactly what a lot of fans were hoping for, especially the ones who didn’t buy the whole revamped status quo. Nearly every episode has Sydney snapping at her boss with biting sarcasm, and he just seems to take it. The simple assumption is that he has a long-term agenda, still unfulfilled, and ignoring Sydney is the easiest thing for the plan. This episode, however, delves into the complexity of the relationship.

The goal in this episode (stand-alone again, at least plot-wise) is preventing the spread of a weapons technology called “Black Thorine”, essentially a super-explosive. Russian crime bosses have it or want it, as usual, since this series is obsessed with post-capitalism Russian crime syndicates. The CIA wants the technology safely contained and out of enemy hands (and likely into theirs), and so who do they call? Sloane and his team, of course!

There are complications on the mission, but they are nothing compared to the complications that arise between the characters. This is where the previous episode failed and this one succeeds: moving the characters forward and exploring their motivations. The first third of any season of an arc-driven series should be spent laying the foundation for plot and character threads, and since the plot aspect has been hobbled by the network thus far, the character drama needs to step up to the plate. “Nocturne” failed to add anything new, rehashing the past for new viewers; this episode takes a more balanced approach.

As one would expect, Sloane wants a relationship with his daughter Nadia, and that includes little things like stopping by at the house for after-work drinks and conversation. It’s still not clear why Nadia would forgive Sloane for what happened at the end of the third season, but she seems more than willing to let bygones be bygones for the moment. Nadia seems to be taking the practical approach to the whole situation: she hasn’t seen anything firsthand, and she needs to figure out where she fits in this new world on her own terms.

Sydney comes back from a mission to find him sitting there at the counter, all smiles, and she instantly tells him to take a hike. This is a natural enough reaction, but it also is very telling: she doesn’t take Nadia’s feelings on the matter into consideration at all. Sydney’s so wrapped up in her own issues over Sloane (however justified) that she can’t comprehend how someone wouldn’t instantly hate the man based on her version of events.

That’s not a writing error, especially since Nadia seems to regard Sydney with something approaching suspicion or wariness several times during the episode. It almost seems as if she might have heard some things about Syndey from Sloane during their Rambaldi trek, between the seasons, and maybe she’s trying to assess whose version of the truth fits her own experience. She wants the relationship with her sister, but as well as they work together, the lines are slowly being drawn. If Nadia can set aside the past and move forward, but Sydney cannot, it could play into the larger dynamic.

That dynamic includes the truth about Irina and Sloane’s possible agenda. There’s something going on between Jack and Sloane, which could simply be a matter of Jack keeping a very close eye on his old ally/enemy. Whatever the case, Nadia will eventually learn the truth about Jack, and thanks to the information that Sydney has, it’s unlikely that the sisters would come down on the same side. The question is: would Sloane use that situation to gain Nadia’s allegiance, thus setting the stage for a future conflict between two fathers and two daughters, with Irina and her legacy being at the center of it all?

Consider that even Vaughn and Weiss, old friends and allies to the end, are slowly but surely choosing sides. Vaughn would obviously back Sydney, but if Weiss gets close to Nadia, that could break the friendship if it comes down to it. For that matter, Dixon would ultimately back Sydney against Sloane, something made very clear in the previous episode. One would also expect Marshall to stick with Sydney, but depending on the circumstances, that could be a false assumption.

For that to have any dramatic context, especially in light of the third season, the core relationships within the conflict must be established and the issues of contention put into place. An eventual breakdown in the relationship between the two sisters (who are fated to kill/destroy each other anyway) wouldn’t mean much if they weren’t first allies and potential friends. Nadia is the closest thing to a close family member that Sydney has left in her world, since her relationship with her father is more than a little strained. Similarly, any future conflict between Jack and Sloane would work better if it were established that they were working towards the same goal.

JJ Abrams indicated that the fans should be patient with this season, since two goals are in play: gaining the trust of new audience coming out of “Lost”, and then giving Sydney’s world more life, so that conflicts begin to have meaning again. When Will and Francie were around, there was always the threat that something would sever that relationship (and in fact, that’s what happened). In the third season, Sydney became so isolated that it became less about her precarious relationships to those around her and more about plot considerations that had no gravitas without the relationship element.

So the scenario, suggested heavily by this episode, is that the writers are taking the first third or half of the season to slowly but surely set up several key relationships that, if Sloane goes rogue again (or even begins to appear to go rogue), will be sorely tested. Sydney makes it very clear in this episode that she has no intention of ever forgiving Sloane for what he’s done, and by staying, she’s making it clear that she has no intention of letting those feelings get in the way of keeping him under very close watch. She’s gotten used to playing these games, after all, and like Dixon, she wants to be there to take Sloane down when the day of betrayal comes ‘round again.

As already mentioned, this episode would have been better in its original context, coming after “The Awful Truth” or even “Ice”. Dixon’s conversation with Sydney doesn’t quite mesh with his confrontation with Sloane in the previous episode; it feels like this conversation should have come first. Equally, Sydney and Nadia really establish a working relationship in this episode, based on a sense of mutual trust and affection. Having it happen this far into the season isn’t necessarily a major problem, but it muddies the character development threads a bit.

Back to the scenario, this could explain why the producers weren’t so worried about mixing the episodes around. Provided that the episodes all contain some element to establish key character relationships, and that those elements aren’t directly dependent on a specific progression of episodes, then it’s merely an annoyance. Ultimately, of course, all of these pieces should culminate in something with a more serialized flavor, or the one reasonable explanation for the structure of the season would disappear. All of this needs to come together in the end if the writers want to have any chance of satisfying the audience, new or old.

What’s interesting is the contrast between “Lost” and “Alias”. “Lost” has an incredibly tight continuity, highly serialized, but episodes are effectively stand-alone in the sense that character development is covered through flashbacks that give context, episode to episode, to character decisions as the story moves forward. So it’s possible to watch “Lost” week to week and enjoy it. This is the essence of a balanced series structure: each episode should have a certain value in and of itself, but each episode should also add to the big picture, so that when taken as a whole, the individual stories add up to a much larger long-term story.

Earlier seasons of “Alias” were like that, with the hook of cutting off the final resolution to each episode’s plot thread and leaving it for the teaser of the next episode. If it had been a question of simply taking that resolution and shifting it back to the end of each episode, that’s one thing. But it’s still not clear whether or not the individual pieces are adding up to a greater whole. The previous episode was evidence for deep concern; this episode restores some hope. The network needs to work with the writers/producers to allow the series to find that balance again.

It can be very hard to remain patient with the pacing and structure of the season thus far. The stripped down continuity is inconsistent at best, or so it seems when the episodes are so disconnected. While only one episode has truly been devoid of character development (“Nocturne”), the odd scheduling (both on the calendar and episode order) has made it hard to recall that the other six episodes (counting the premiere as two) have had plenty of strong character moments, because the episodes themselves have varied in quality.

This episode has plenty of things that make it work: Sydney and Sloane facing each other down, sexy action with Sydney and Nadia in the field, and references to Sloane’s past criminal activity. Sloane’s dressing-down of Sydney and Nadia was also unexpected. But it also had some predictable elements as well: how the situation at the hotel was resolved, the complication with the exchange, and Sydney’s decision to remain with APO. The plot itself held very few surprises. The end result is an episode that is fairly average, and until some of these earlier episodes are placed into a definitive larger context, this will continue to be the case.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode finally deals with Sydney’s aversion to working with Sloane and her motivations for remaining with APO. Sloane’s criminal past rears its ugly head in an unexpected manner, which is always good, but the plot is fairly standard and holds few surprises. There are some hints to the development of key relationships and future conflicts, but they remain only possibilities, which leaves the overall pertinence of this episode in question.

Writing: 1/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 2/4

Final Rating: 7/10

Season Average (as of 4.7): 7.0

Lost 1.16: "Outlaws"

Written by Drew Goddard
Directed by Jack Bender

In which an encounter with a wild boar takes Sawyer on a hunt, and in the process, he recalls the circumstances that brought him to Sydney and some of the worst moments of his life…


Status Report

Over the past several episodes, the plot threads have slowed down a bit, giving way to character development concerns and subtly shifting alliances. This episode is no different in that respect. What makes this episode exceptional is the level of character development involved. This episode has all the hallmarks of a Drew Goddard episode: character exploration with some serious bite, for lack of a better word.

This is partially accomplished by simply focusing on fewer characters, and taking those characters and pulling them into the two main character threads under consideration. This is another episode about dealing with emotional baggage: Sawyer and his past, Charlie and his present. In a nice bit of parallel storytelling, both men are essentially dealing with the knowledge that they have killed in the name of revenge. Ironically, Charlie is probably in the better position; he can more easily justify his actions from a psychological point of view.

A lot of fans have seen Sawyer as a wounded soul in need of serious repair, and they are not wrong. Those wounds are exposed in this episode, and it is not a pretty sight. The teaser is more than enough information to present Sawyer in a different light. It’s one thing for him to say that his life was ruined by a man named Sawyer, and that trying to find him and get revenge has turned him into the kind of man he has long despised. It’s quite another to know that Sawyer, as a child named James, had to listen to his father kill his mother and then himself, with the suicide happened on James’ own childhood bed. It’s a haunting moment, and one that immediately gives the modern Sawyer a more reasonable context.

After all, it’s one thing to say that a terrible childhood brought about a bitter and self-centered criminal (it’s almost pop culture at this point); it’s another to see, very clearly, that Sawyer never had a prayer of living a normal life, giving how little control he’s had over it. The rest of the characters all have their emotional and psychological issues to work out, but with the possible exception of Kate, Sawyer has them all beat, without a doubt. It’s entirely appropriate that Sawyer be the de facto leader of those remaining on the beach, resisting personal redemption, since he’s also the one with the most to overcome.

Looking at Sawyer’s past, his quest to avenge his parents and the theft of his childhood dominates everything in his world. His criminal activities have been depicted as a combination of instant gratification and ongoing research: one facilitates the other, since finding the real Sawyer means delving into his world. Both driving forces were probably burned into James’ psyche the night of the murder/suicide; there are elements of childhood fantasy at the root of both. Sawyer lives for the moment, all while living for the goal of finding and killing the real Sawyer, all part of some endless revenge fantasy. Literally decades of his life have passed without deeper meaning.

More than ever, it’s clear why he uses the name Sawyer. The real Sawyer has become the totality of his existence, and not just in terms of following in the grifter’s footsteps, consorting with the same shady criminals and following the same lifestyle. James has come to define himself through the search for Sawyer, to the point that he doesn’t really know himself anymore. Unlike the rest of the survivors, who are all more or less aware of who they are and where they lost their way, Sawyer never got to become anyone.

This makes his behavior on the island thus far very easy to understand. Perhaps for the first time, he has the chance to control some measure of his reality. As such, he takes every step to gain possession of anything he might need, all in the name of avoiding dependence. It’s the first, awkward step towards self-discovery. At the same time, he consciously remains close to the others, and when he lets his guard down, he starts to make connections. There’s a part of him that wants to give up “Sawyer” and become his own person. But after years and years of denying his own personal identity, it’s going to take more than a month for him to let go.

It certainly doesn’t help that he’s continued to be a victim ever since that fateful night. He trusts his sometime associate Hibbs when it seems to give him what he wants, at least so far as to go to Sydney and plan murder. The real James seems to come out when he walks away, unable to bring his fantasy into reality. It’s not just that James has a crisis of conscience (thought that is the case); it’s also a sign that as of right now, there’s still something of the innocent little boy left inside. In the days before Flight 815, James wasn’t completely gone.

That’s when his story takes a truly inspired turn. Sawyer might not have murdered Frank, and a terrible mistake might have been avoided, if only he hadn’t run into Jack’s father. Finally delivering on the promise that the lives of the survivors are interconnected in the past as well as the present, pulling in a more abstract concept of a “higher power’ to the series’ tapestry, Jack’s father tells Sawyer something that Jack would love to hear, but something that is now personally devastating to Sawyer in the present: that Jack’s father, ruined by his own son, still sees Jack as a true man. It’s the kind of thing Sawyer never got to hear from a father figure. Even worse, Jack’s father gives Sawyer the motivation to go and kill Frank, only to discover that the man simply owed Hibbs money.

All of which informs the “present”, in which Sawyer comes to see a rather large wild boar as a symbolic enemy, Frank returned to get some measure of revenge, stealing Sawyer’s current comforts in repayment for a stolen life. The message is that a person can give meaning to random or even purposeful events that have everything to do with their psychologically skewed point of view. Forgiving the boar, letting it live, is symbolically the first step towards letting go of Sawyer and becoming James. (The subsequent conversation with Jack, of course, demonstrates that there’s still quite a lot of Sawyer left in there.)

Sawyer’s lesson could also be a hint about the mystery of the island itself. For all the signs and portents suggesting a higher power executing some master plan on the island, there have also been plenty of signs that much of the supposed phenomenon is being interpreted through perspectives that are suspect. If there’s something on the island that has some kind of psychotropic effect, altering perception and interpretation, then it could easily explain Sawyer’s experience in this episode. At the same time, the whispering seems to happen to those resisting the transformative experience of the island, so it’s still more than possible that the larger “higher power” context remains intact.

Charlie also goes through the journey of working out the psychological effects of killing a man, but in this case, he gets something that Sawyer hasn’t been given: emotional support. Part of that is the fact that Charlie didn’t put the rest of the survivors at a distance from the very beginning, so others cared about his well-being. None of them suspect or really even care about Sawyer’s past history, and since he won’t say anything about it, they can’t help him. So Charlie begins to move on, while Sawyer is still left to work it out alone.

Jack has very little to do with this episode; in fact, more is said about Jack through Sawyer’s memory than through his own actions. The writers continue to place Jack in the role of the reluctant leader, in the sense of the man who finds himself appointed sheriff in some Western. In a interesting and unexpected move, the writers take away some of the growing sense of impending conflict by having everyone give back the guns that Jack gave them in the previous episode. It might not change things in the long run; Kate knows where the guns are, and she could ultimately betray Jack down the road (for real or under manipulation herself). But it keeps Jack firmly in control, with the ability to call out the posse when necessary. (Yep, lots of Western archetypes recently!)

Kate is still playing both sides against the middle, working her own game. Now that more of Sawyer’s motivations have been laid on the table, Kate and Hurley are the only characters without some basic degree of psychological background. When it comes to Kate, however, that kind of information could be very important to the fate of all the survivors. Kate wants to do the right thing and help people, but that’s rapidly looking like an avoidance mechanism in and of itself. She’s interested in Sawyer, but even he recognizes that she’s essentially chosen to stick with Jack. But the secrets are starting to come out: she was once married, and coupled with the hints that she killed someone she loved, a vague picture is definitely forming.

It’s very interesting how Sayid’s past as a member of the Iraqi Republican Guard is presented without much prejudice. It’s a part of him that the writers occasionally use when it makes sense, but otherwise, he is portrayed as a normal human being with a sense of true decency. Sayid knows exactly what to say to Charlie to get him past the trauma, and then he moves on. He also shows genuine concern for Sawyer and the implications of someone else hearing the voices. If he knew that Sawyer’s experience included hearing the voices of someone specific to Sawyer’s past, he might be even more concerned.

Of course, Sayid couldn’t have helped Charlie if it hadn’t been for Hurley, who continues to act as the general counselor to the survivors. He seems to have a vested interest in making sure everyone’s psychologically balanced, or as much as possible, once again suggesting a basic understanding of what the island is offering. It’s hard to imagine that Hurley has anything in his past requiring redemption, especially since Hurley was aligned with the island and moving forward from the very beginning. That could only prove to make any such revelations about his past all the more shocking.

Claire has only a small part in this episode, but it’s very important in terms of Charlie’s overall development. It would have been easy for Claire to reject Charlie, having seen him murder someone right in front of her. But Claire seems to understand, on a gut level, that Charlie was looking out for her, and by now, she must know that he died, possibly because he tried to protect her. By episode’s end, they are back on track as the island’s most obvious couple, and a lot of fans couldn’t be happier. (Any excuse to get Emilie to smile on screen!)

Beyond Michael’s continuing effort to build a raft, the minor characters like Jin, Sun, Walt, Boone, and Shannon remain firmly in the background. It’s a testimony to the strength of the episode that their absence in the episode is barely noticeable. Granted, some of those characters will dominate the next episode, so it all balances out over time. Inserting them into this episode without true need would have been a mistake, and thankfully, the writers understood that fact.

Locke, firmly in the role of the island shaman, appears just enough to give Sawyer a bit of semi-obvious context. Some might find his tale about his sister a bit over the top, hammering home a metaphor that was already more or less obvious from the context. But that story serves a twofold purpose. It reinforces the idea that events can be interpreted as something more than they are, particularly in a spiritual sense, and it continues to establish Locke as the spiritual leader to Jack’s more practical leadership. And of course, it’s all rather disconcerting by the time the story is over, making one wonder how much Locke went through in his life, and how similar he might be to Sawyer. In essence: is Locke the kind of person that Sawyer could become, if he succumbs to whatever is causing Sawyer to hear the voices?

This episode is unabashedly all about character development, and in this regard, Drew Goddard hits another one out of the park. He takes a game like “I Never”, a potentially goofy plot device, and turns it into a substantially chilling mechanism for quick and powerful character revelation. This is also an episode that has a definitively slow and deliberate pacing; there are more uncomfortable and telling silences in this episode than one would ever expect, and every single one of them is appropriate. Despite a small role, Robert Patrick gives Hibbs a distinct personality, and it’s clear that he could factor into future revelations about Sawyer’s past, perhaps intersecting with a few other character histories in the process.

One gets the very strong sense that the writers know exactly what’s happening on the island and how every piece of the puzzle fits together, and as a result, they have enough confidence to leave questions unanswered, secure in the assumption that the audience can see that confidence as something justified. So plot elements like the hatch discovered by Locke and Boone have more value, at the moment, as triggers for decisions by characters, revealing who they are and what they want. It’s becoming rather clear that the writers consider it more important to establish motivations and dynamics in the first season, so that future plot and character threads have a strong foundation.

The trick is making sure that the episodes that focus on character development are strong enough to ensure that the confidence in the writers is sustained. Some of the past several episodes haven’t quite achieved that goal, making some wonder whether or not there really is a plan and tapestry in place. Episodes like this reaffirm that the writers know what they’re doing, and that the audience has every reason to sit back and enjoy the ride.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is one of the best of the season, providing a deep and unyielding context to Sawyer’s psychological baggage. Nearly every moment of the episode is devoted to revealing some layer of one of the characters, and there are enough hints regarding long-term plot threads to give the character development a strong context. Some might wonder what the past few episodes have been lacking; this episode demonstrates the point perfectly.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 4/4

Final Rating: 10/10

Season Average (as of 1.15): 7.8