X-Files 5.1: "Redux"

Written by Chris Carter
Directed by R.W. Goodwin

In which Mulder uses his apparent death to mask his infiltration of the conspiracy in the hopes of finding a cure for Scully’s cancer, while Scully tracks down the truth about her illness…


Status Report

With the beginning of the fifth season, Chris Carter and 1013 had it easy. The season was to be shortened from 22+ episodes to 20 episodes, since the extra time would be needed for final work on the feature film, which would essentially serve as the true season finale (and the capstone to the mythology arc since “Paper Clip”). If there was ever a chance to establish clear character arcs and keep the mythology within clearly defined bounds, this was the season. As it would turn out, the popularity of the series and the desire by the network to keep it going beyond the fifth season would prove to be the series’ downfall; it would force the writers to move beyond the reasonable and complicate the mythology even more.

However, at the time that “Redux” was written, the mythology was still more or less locked down, having been worked out early in the fourth season for the feature film. Carter knew where the story was going, and wanted to have Mulder and Scully in the most psychologically compromised position possible. Indeed, at the end of “Gethsemane”, things were looking rather grim. Mulder was having something of an epiphany about the scope of the conspiracy and his part as its dupe, while Scully’s health was degrading on an hourly basis.

The point, from Carter’s point of view, was to place Mulder in a position to doubt the existence of aliens, only to get final confirmation of Purity and its role in the conspiracy in “Fight the Future”. Similarly, Scully would be at a point where the cost would be so high by the time they were reassigned that moving on would be an option. The rapport between Mulder and Scully would be caught up in the dynamic as well; the film, as the end of their arc, would be the culmination of their slow build towards expressing their growing feelings for one another.


As with most of the mythology episodes, previous interpretations regarding the goals and policies of the conspiracy and Cancer Man pertain directly to the interpretation of the current episode. Therefore, the speculation and interpretation outlined in previous reviews are assumed to be familiar to the reader. In particular, the summary of the mythology given in the review for “Herronvolk” is critical to the analysis of this episode, as well as the conjecture in “Momento Mori” and “Gethsemane”.

In keeping with the title, this episode is all about giving context to the end of the fourth season finale’s last moments. The result is an episode that technically doesn’t go anywhere new, but delves far more deeply into the implications of “Gethsemane” on Mulder, Scully, and the mythology. “Gethsemane”, it seems, was the surface of a much deeper ocean; “Redux” covers what lies under the surface. While that allows Carter to demonstrate how well the mythology has been layered, in that every answer simply uncovers a new tangle of question and deceits, it’s also a bit dry to hear a series of voiceovers while plot elements are tossed out at a blistering rate.

For those looking for character development, it’s mostly deferred to the second half of the premiere. This is all about the mythology. While Mulder finds more and more reason to question his own assumptions, Scully begins to find evidence that supports extreme possibilities. It’s a nice reversal, and it helps to give the investigation scope and meaning. The audience is given a more logical reason for accepting the end of “Gethsemane”, even if some major concerns are waved away.

The very first scene is meant to sell the idea that Mulder was convinced that Kritschgau’s evidence was compelling enough to reverse his long-standing beliefs. The fact that the evidence came after Mulder endured months of life-altering revelations questioning nearly every assumption in his life doesn’t come into direct play. It certainly appears as though Mulder is contemplating suicide, but events conspire against it. This is a character nuance that’s still hard to swallow; Mulder is nothing if not dedicated to uncovering whatever truth seems to be waiting for discovery.

A timely conversation with Kritschgau, however, points Mulder in the direction of the man monitoring him from the apartment above and reveals the true source of his suicidal thoughts. The man, Ostelhoff, has been keeping an eye on him for at least two months, possible longer. Using such obvious methods smack of the Syndicate; the Elders never seem to do anything with subtlety, and they couldn’t have been more obvious in their methods if they tried. This scene does, however, confirm on some level that Kritschgau is working for Cancer Man. Cancer Man would have a vested interest in trying to give Mulder a way out, a direction to divert his energies. Ostelhoff is a perfect example, because it gives away a part of the conspiracy that doesn’t jeopardize his overall plan.

While that is a tenuous speculation and interpretation at best, Mulder’s suicidal thoughts are directly tied to Scully’s fate. Despite the fact that it’s been staring him in the face for years, only now (at his psychologically worst mental state) does he realize that Scully might be dying to send a message to him. Mulder is always a bit self-absorbed, but it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to realize that people around him are dying and suffering because it helps rein him in.

The conspiracy’s methods alert Mulder to the fact that someone in the FBI, in tandem with the military, has been working with the conspiracy since the beginning. It’s not entirely clear why this is a shock to Mulder or Scully, since as early as the first episode, they were aware of interference from within the FBI. Mulder comes up with a simple scheme: allow everyone to believe he’s dead so he can operate freely to gather evidence against the conspiracy’s FBI operative.

To accomplish this, Scully must convincingly lie about Mulder’s death. This is not an easy concept to accept, because Scully is not the best liar, especially when it comes to genuine reactions to a false reality. The fact that Skinner sees right through her deception is a testimony to that; it’s as if Carter is asking the audience to accept the possibility that Scully can lie to the FBI review board because of her anger over the thought of a traitor. But if Skinner is the obvious choice, wouldn’t that give her more resolve to lie to him? It’s all a bit convenient, a way to get around the trouble caused by the cliffhanger.

Blevins is the conspiracy’s FBI operative, and as such, he has a vested interest in knowing who it was that gave Mulder information. After all, the conspiracy needed to contain the information about the corpse because it was all too real, and thus outside of the conspiracy’s understanding of the “alien” threat. Kritschgau was sent to ensure that the evidence confirming the veracity of the corpse was destroyed, and to make sure that Mulder saw only enough to suggest truths easily debunked. Kritschgau actually went a little further, because that would work to Cancer Man’s advantage. Kritschgau is therefore a threat to the conspiracy, because the conspiracy wants Mulder to believe, thus fulfilling his role as a disinformation source.

When Mulder runs into Kritschgau in the DOD Advanced Research facility, he immediately tells Mulder what it gives him access to and what he could potentially find: a cure for Scully. This wouldn’t help the conspiracy at all (Scully is perceived as a threat at this point), but it helps Cancer Man tremendously. After all, Cancer Man promised a cure; how much better is it if he gets to counter the desires of the Syndicate by letting Mulder do it for him? Cancer Man wants Scully alive with the control chip in her neck, and since that is the key to her recovery, pointing Mulder in that direction would be the best move.

Of course, the very next scene implies that Cancer Man is unaware of Mulder’s survival. That’s entirely possible. His grief appears genuine, as it would be for someone who had pinned all his hopes and dreams on a son that might now be dead. Having already sacrificed Samantha and lost her, under circumstances of abduction extremely similar to what Mulder recalls, Cancer Man now faces the possibility that all his plans and schemes have backfired. Kritschgau, on the other hand, is still operating under previous orders, thus pointing Mulder to Scully’s cure as intended.

The evidence leads Scully to Skinner, which is entirely logical after the events of “Zero Sum”, since the writers had established that Skinner was capable of deception when it suited his purpose. In this case, it’s fairly obvious that Skinner is not the conspiracy stooge (at least, not to the degree necessary to fool and manipulate Mulder all this time). But like “Zero Sum”, this is more about Scully discovering (though she should already know) that every the most likely ally could be the enemy in disguise.

Like “Gethsemane”, Kritschgau lays out the depth and breadth of the conspiracy’s true purpose. In essence, Kritschgau is telling Mulder information that is equal part truth and equal part lies; it’s entirely possible that it is reality as Cancer Man has explained it to Kritschgau. After all, Cancer Man knows that Purity is not “alien”, and so Kritschgau is telling the truth in that regard. Kritschgau is just unaware that the evidence is not fabricated.

Thus Kritschgau takes established military and DOD history and places it in the context of experimentation designed to create the perfect soldier, hidden behind a cover story about aliens and flying saucers. Indeed, the entire Project is all about creating super-soldiers (convenient how the fans who hated the later seasons forget how often this concept entered the early mythology), so Kritschgau is not wrong.

Kritschgau’s “germ warfare” is the excuse he was logically given to explain away the existence of Purity, a threat from the future instead of the depths of space. It also explained, for Kritschgau, the Gulf War Syndrome; in reality, that was the effect of Purity Control. Wars were initiated for the testing of weapons technology, and in the case of the early 1990s, the Persian Gulf Conflict helped perfect the nanotech-enhanced super-soldiers and the effects of the experimental vaccines on human populations.

The genetic experiments, meant to create an organic analogue to the nanotech super-soldiers, were easily tied to the reproductive experiments conducted on female abductees. Kritschgau could say these things with conviction because the lies provided to him were hidden within the truth. The genetic experiments were all about controlling and manipulating human DNA. And because it was the truth, Mulder had seen and heard plenty of evidence (going back to “Paper Clip”), making it possible for him to believe what Kritschgau was telling him.

The scene between the Syndicate Elder and Cancer Man place events in perspective. The conspiracy was watching Mulder to ensure that he could be controlled once Scully was out of the picture. Cancer Man, aware that Scully was necessary to his plans, had no intention of letting her die. The division between the Syndicate and Cancer Man now comes to full bloom. Cancer Man is to the point where he can no longer allow the conspiracy to control Mulder. He must find a way to move Mulder into his corner. Thus Kritschgau’s effort to show Mulder how the conspiracy has used him. Cancer Man wants to use the truth as a means of recruiting his favored son to the cause.

The implication of Dr. Vitagliano’s comments regarding the chimera cells from the Yukon ice cores would be that the cells were viable and could eventually grow into the “alien” corpse that was supposedly a fake. But that’s not necessarily the case. The chimera cells would be ideal for a form of life with an adaptive physiology, which would be the case for one of the shape-shifting biological super-soldiers. That would be consistent with the interpretation of the evidence in “Gethsemane”. As it stands, the writers toss that out without any real explanation, letting the suggestions add up to assumptions by the audience.

By the time Mulder is looking at a room filled with grey-skinned aliens, he is convinced that finding a cure for Scully means that everything Kritschgau told him is entirely true. It’s a certainty that Mulder has no logical reason to feel. If he believes that one set of lies was constructed to fool him into a false faith, why would he immediately replace that belief with firm conviction in another set of possible lies? Why not simply conclude that he can only have faith in his own conclusions and evidence?

The fact that Scully’s cancer, caused by branched DNA, is related to the virus contained within the extracted chimera cells is an important connection. The chimera cells are a part of the biological nanotech of the shifters themselves, the product of human genetic engineering. The reproductive experiments on abductees are meant to result in either clones (who are copies of clones of the original Rebel shifters) or naturally gestated biological super-soldiers (the precursors of the shifters). Scully’s discovery instantly establishes a link between these aspects of the mythology.

As expected, it doesn’t take long for someone to discover that the body in Mulder’s apartment is really Ostelhoff. The fact that it’s Skinner only adds to the tension, since Scully is convinced that Skinner is a tool of the conspiracy. Skinner has the chance to prove himself to Scully by helping her keep Mulder’s survival under wraps, but since he doesn’t offer his allegiance, Scully is left with only one option: providing the evidence that links the apparent product of a government hoax (the chimera cells) to her own cancer. At the very least, Scully would have struck at the heart of the conspiracy’s true design, even beyond what the Syndicate believes it to be.

With Mulder in the process of finding a cure for Scully’s cancer, his luck runs out. The conspiracy discovers his access. As Scully goes before the review board, ready to expose the conspiracy’s FBI operative, Cancer Man ensures that Mulder will escape. Cancer Man has made a conscious choice to act against the Syndicate to ensure that Mulder and Scully both survive, and thus he openly demonstrates that his goals are not aligned with the conspiracy.

Of course, the episode cannot end without taking the plot at least one step forward from where it was at the end of “Gethsemane”. Scully faints, unable to continue, thanks to the effects of her cancer, before she can accuse the conspiracy’s lackey. Mulder gets the vial with Scully’s cure to the Lone Gunmen, only to discover that the vial is apparently empty. While Scully’s timing is impeccable, it’s at least consistent with all the references to her failing health. It makes no sense for Mulder to miss the fact that there might be a solid object in the vial, except to make the situation look even more dire than it is.

Ultimately, “Redux” is all about taking the hints about the mythology given in “Gethsemane” and fleshing them out, making Kritschgau’s claims and Mulder’s acceptance of them more reasonable. At the same time, Scully is supposed to be finding reason to believe in something beyond accepted science. Mulder’s conversion comes across as a bit too quick, a bit too complete, but there’s a lot of guilt over Scully’s condition driving his assumptions and conclusions.

Because it covers established ground, there’s less of the layering of plot and character development that gave “Gethsemane” such emotional punch. This is an exposition dump, and considering the amount of time spent on the various voiceovers, it’s not the most exciting episode in the world. This episode is meant, perhaps, to appeal to the intellectual concerns of the audience, answering in almost clinical fashion some of the questions from the previous episode. The heart of the story is left unaddressed until the next episode, when Mulder and Scully are finally reunited.

Hidden within the episode is an interesting piece of information, however. When Kritschgau tells Mulder that he might find what he wants the most, Mulder’s immediate answer is a cure for Scully’s cancer. One might have expected that he would say something about finding Samantha or the truth about her abduction. This apparent shift in priority is an important step in their relationship. Mulder has become aware of the fact that Scully has suffered greatly for his cause, far more than he has been concerned with it in the past.

At the same time, Mulder is now unsure of the possibility of finding Samantha at all, since much of his hope had hinged on the possibility of a paranormal explanation: alien abduction. If aliens aren’t real, in the absence of any other explanation, Mulder no longer has a source of hope. He must conclude that Samantha was abducted by the government for the tests they wanted to conduct. In the end, this is proven to be correct; however, there’s the rather important matter that an alien intelligence did “abduct” Samantha. The spiritual forces that have provided aid to Mulder and Scully in the past “removed” Samantha to preserve her for her role in the future.

Of course, Mulder doesn’t know any of that, and he’s had reason to doubt his ability to find Samantha in the past. As episodes like “Paper Hearts” demonstrate, Mulder already had questions about his recovered memories. By this episode, he has evidence to suggest that those memories were at least partially implanted. So now Samantha is no longer the central focus of his life; it’s now about saving Scully’s life and uncovering the conspiracy that destroyed his family.

Carter was probably aware that this episode, as the middle installment of a trilogy, couldn’t resolve enough to make the audience entirely pleased. A weak season premiere was in cards as a result; even with the titles making it clear that the next episode is a direct continuation of this episode, by airing it separately, it doesn’t flow as naturally as intended. So this episode, really meant to set up the plot elements of the second (third) part of the story, seems to be a long journey for such slight progression of the plot.

Since it deals mostly in exposition, this episode highlights one of the oddities of any Chris Carter effort: overly pretentious dialogue. More than ever, the endless voiceovers seem to indicate that Mulder and Scully think in such a convoluted manner that it’s no shock that they forget half of what they uncover. In this case, it’s not just the voiceovers that boggle the mind; some of the spoken dialogue is just as obtuse and unnatural.

“Gethsemane” was layered with an astonishing amount of symbolism and character development; “Redux II” would focus on a wealth of character and plot resolution. While “Redux” is certainly full of information, it doesn’t compare well to the other episodes of the trilogy. It also doesn’t help that the most straightforward explanation of the conspiracy of the entire series is focused, from Carter’s point of view, on a false version of the mythology.


Memorable Quotes

MULDER: “Keep going, FBI woman!”

SCULLY: “That would mean that for four years, we’ve been nothing more than pawns in a game, that it was a lie from the beginning…”

MULDER: “Let the truth be known, though the heavens fall…”

MULDER: “But I’ve seen aliens…I’ve witnessed these things.”
KRITSCHGAU: “You’ve seen what they wanted you to see. The line between science and science fiction doesn’t exist anymore. This about control of the very elements of life: DNA…yours, mine, everyone’s.”

SCULLY: “If science serves me to these ends, it is not lost on me that the tool which I’ve come to depend on absolutely cannot save or protect me…but only bring into focus the darkness that lies ahead.”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode suffers from being the middle installment of a trilogy, lacking in any real sense of resolution. Carter provides a great deal of information, but exposition-heavy episodes are rarely exciting, and at times, the writing makes everyone sound pretentious. This is a good episode in terms of learning more about the scope of the conspiracy, but the real emotional progress is made in the next episode.

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

Final Rating: 7/10

Alias 4.17: "A Clean Conscience"

Written by J.R. Orci
Directed by Lawrence Trilling

In which the woman who once protected Nadia in Argentina, Sophia, comes looking for sanctuary, but as things go badly for Dixon’s mission and Jack’s health, the truth is revealed…


Status Report

This is one of those episodes that would have gained a great deal from a lack of promos or previews. The network seemed to think that this episode was going to reveal the secret history of Jack Bristow, right down to the real explanation for the final scene of the third season finale. Of course, it might have helped if the one who created the promo/preview had actually watched the episode in question. It might have eliminated some of the disappointment that was hard to avoid, once the true direction of the episode was evident.

Three plot threads interweave as the episode progresses, and in all cases, it’s all about character. The first plot thread involves Sophia, Nadia’s old protector at the Argentine orphanage, and her apparent concern about personal safety. The second plot thread involves Jack and his medical situation, which forces him to consider explaining his pact with Sloane. The third plot thread involves Dixon’s moral dilemma, when a field op forces him to weigh the needs of the many against the needs of the few.

When Sophia contacts Nadia and ends up being beaten, Nadia and everyone connected to her is horrified. Everyone, that is, except for Sloane. The writers neatly begin by having Sophia sing Sloane’s praises, calling him a good man and father, which after the previous episode is something even Nadia has a hard time hearing. But of course, as some have speculated, Sophia is not the innocent protector that she seems to be, and Sloane is no fool. When he starts looking into her background, behind Nadia’s back, it seems like a betrayal of trust.

Of course, the truth is far more complex. Sloane has been reminded of the lengths to which a person will go to fulfill the Rambaldi obsession; indeed, the imposter Sloane is still out there. Sloane knows that Sydney and Nadia are in danger. He has every reason to be suspicious of anyone and everyone who seems to have a connection to his daughter. And for all that he’s easily fooled by Sophia, his instincts are extremely good when it comes to detecting deception.

Sydney, on the other hand, has every reason to distrust Sloane’s motivations. She sees what Nadia asks her to see: the woman who was the shining light in her terrible childhood. For Sydney, Sloane is once again showing his true colors, and she’s the only one willing to say anything about it. In a sense. Sydney is throwing Sloane off the trail by making him bad about his suspicions. It would be ironic if Sloane’s attempt to protect his daughter (and by extension, Sydney) were derailed because of his concern that Nadia might think badly of him.

Sophia appeals to what she has in common with Sloane, to engender sympathy. Whatever else might be true, Sophia was Nadia’s guardian and she took the role seriously, if only for her own reasons. She uses her connection to Nadia to gain another source of intelligence within APO. She even has Sydney defending her. It’s yet another example of how incredibly thorough Yelena has been in constructing her endgame.

As long speculated, Yelena Derevko is at the center of the threat that Jack and Sloane came together to combat. Much of the second half of the third season (and perhaps all of it) has now been clarified; even the second season begins to make more sense. According to the very short and sweet explanation at the end of the episode, Irina and Yelena have been vying with one another for control over the same thing: the Rambaldi legacy and the fate of the two sisters at the heart of the prophecies. Irina’s insistence that “truth takes time” must have presaged the idea that the true threat to Sydney (and, additionally, Nadia) would come from another related source.

Is it possible that Irina’s organization was not the precursor to the Covenant, but rather, competition against it? Was her pact with Sloane about protecting Sydney (and eventually Nadia) by exploring the Rambaldi legacy in order to understand it? Once Irina and her organization were out of the picture, the Covenant appropriated many of the same people and gained prominence; shortly thereafter, Nadia was discovered by everyone. Was Irina’s goal to protect Sydney, perhaps aware that Nadia was already in Yelena’s hands?

Yelena’s break with Irina took place after both Sydney and Nadia were born. Yelena gained control over Nadia, as Sophia, after Nadia was abducted by Vaughn’s father, who was a member of the Magnific Order of Rambaldi. The implication is that Yelena was the head of the Covenant, working to bring Rambaldi’s works to fruition. The trouble is that it’s hard to know how each distinct group learned about the prophecies when they are always presented as being discovered by Sloane for the first time; the mythology rests on the idea that there are multiple sources for the same information, all held by different yet related organizations.

So when it comes to Rambaldi, the real threat is Yelena. She took care of Nadia in hiding while attempting to gain control of Sydney. Irina appears to have been trying to save both her daughters by playing Sloane, a Rambaldi-obsessed associate, against Yelena. Irina must have been terrified that Sydney, as Sloane’s agent, would be set in opposition with Nadia without anyone being fully aware of it. Indeed, it seems that the events of “The Orphan” demonstrate that the similarities in the lives of the two women were intentional; Yelena saw to it that Nadia gained the same training as Sydney, though under different circumstances.

While her motivations and connections are still sketchy, there’s little question that Yelena has a massive organization and considerable resources. She had enough information on APO and Vaughn, based on her connection to Vaughn’s father, to know how to manipulate Vaughn into getting her (through the imposter Sloane) the coil from Project: Nightingale. She was connected to the mission involving Dixon and Vaughn in this episode, though it’s hard to see how it would fit into the rest of the mythology. It’s even possible that she’s aware of Jack’s medical condition; it’s hard to believe that Yelena would fail to gain access to the medical status of Sydney’s main protector.

Ultimately, the revelation of the pact between Jack and Sloane is a disappointment, but as already mentioned, this is mostly due to the promos and previews that promised far more information. As long theorized, the pact is all about protecting Sydney and Nadia against the designs of Yelena Derevko; the only question is how those plans intersect with the existing mythology in the past. It should be interesting to see how the sisters react to this information. Will Sydney think better of Sloane, and will this help Nadia understand if she learns that Jack killed Irina (however mistaken that is)?

Jack’s character continues to gain more and more depth as the series marches on. There’s little question now that Jack’s life will be saved through some Rambaldi device; the real concern is whether or not it will compromise the goal of protecting Sydney and Nadia. It’s interesting to see a man of such questionable morality, the kind of man that Dixon struggles not to be in this episode, placing his daughter’s well-being above all else. It’s even more interesting considering the fact that he was willing to manipulate her horribly as a young girl to that same end. Perhaps, as death closes in, Jack is finally beginning to realize what his decisions have cost Sydney over the years; he doesn’t seem to want to add to the suffering now, though he always does as he believes is necessary.

While Jack is considering clearing his conscience, as per the episode title, Dixon finds himself in a situation where his own conscience is likely to be tested. A CIA agent named Raimes appears to have turned, having killed more than a dozen people while apparently working for the terrorist he was assigned to stop. Dixon and Vaughn are sent to find Raimes and determine whether or not he has turned. The two discover that things are a little more complicated than that.

Dixon has always dealt with his job with a certain amount of morality. He would happily eliminate those who set themselves as the enemy (at least when that’s what the mission profile told him to think), and he’s always been concerned with innocents. He has personal experience with the price that being an agent can exact, and knows on a certain level that the danger to his own family has always been real. But killing innocents and those on the right side of the law is another thing entirely.

Yelena is clearly aware of the mission, and one has to believe that there is something for her to gain from either the terrorists themselves or the effect of the mission on Dixon and Vaughn. All season long, the agents have been forced into darker territory: Sydney refusing to forgive, Jack assassinating old allies, Vaughn running with terrorists, even Marshall killing (though by accident). All of these things psychologically undermine the “good guys” and their resolve, while Yelena is even more certain of the rightness of her actions.

This episode, at least until the very end, was a highlight reel for Carl Lumbly. His undercover alias are always some of the most amusing, and that is definitely true in this case as well. But the best scene is when his cover is blown, and Raines gives him an out, even sacrificing himself to atone for his wrongs, which only serves to transfer the same guilt to Dixon if he takes that offer. Dixon shots Raines, careful not to actually kill the man, but it doesn’t absolve him of the moral cost. He’s making the same kind of decision that he previously chided Raines for making, and he knows it.

Other great moments were strewn throughout, most of them involving Jack and his medical condition. Early into the episode, the writers dropped hints that Sophia might be Yelena, but they carefully kept it from being obvious. That said, Jack’s decision to extract the device from his hand was given an unnerving context; was it really just something related to his mediciation, or was it something implanted for the sake of Yelena’s endgame?

It’s probable that the network was aware of the positive reaction to the past few episodes, and wanted the audience to think that this episode would be equally chock full of revelations. In a certain sense, this episode is another important step on the road to the season finale, which is shaping up to be a huge event. Like the beginning of the season, the network made a massive error in judgment. It would be very easy for viewers to let the disappointment engendered by the deceptive promo blind them to the fact that this is another quality episode.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is another strong installment of the season arc, but the deceptive promos from the network were bound to create a sense of disappointment. Taken objectively, this episode has a lot to offer: a good dose of Dixon in the field, Jack’s deterioration, and the final act brings the season firmly into the “resolution” phase of the arc. Future episodes will need to delve into the details, but for now, this is more than enough to keep up the narrative pace!

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Season Average (as of 4.17): 7.6

Roswell 2.16: "Heart of Mine"

Written by Jason Katims
Directed by Lawrence Trilling

In which relationships and futures come to mind when Prom season arrives, and Liz finds herself contemplating making a final decision about her “friendship” with Max…


Status Report

With so much left unsaid and undone at the end of “The Hybrid Chronicles”, the previous episode was something of a coda to that mini-arc. This episode effectively begins the final arc of the season, and since the writers were under the impression that it was the end of the series, several plot elements are driven towards a relative conclusion. One can see the writers moving the pieces into place for character development.

This episode was not very popular, if only because it continues the darkest period of the relationship between Max and Liz. If the three seasons are taken as a complete package, at least in terms of that relationship, then this is the middle act, where complications conspire to keep them apart. The effects of “The End of the World” continue to deny Max and Liz what they most desire, and the writers bring back one of the key elements from the end of the first season and the beginning of the second: Tess’ focus on unearthing Max’s memories of Antar and setting him on the course towards their destiny.

The writers, originally under the belief that the second season would end with “How the Other Half Lives”, focused more on the question of free will vs. destiny in terms of the hybrids as individuals. Max eventually discovered that he cannot let his destiny regarding Antar rule his life on Earth, yet he cannot pretend that he’s human. Michael came to grips, more or less, with his human side. Isabel got over the concern that Vilandra’s betrayal would translate into one of her own. And Tess seemed to be learning how to be more human and accept life on Earth.

The humans also seemed to learn lessons by the end of “The Hybrid Chronicles”. Liz seemed to come to terms with the fact that she and Max would continue to be star-crossed loves, which was in keeping with the original concept of a human/alien Romeo and Juliet and the end of the first season. Maria seemed to recognize that she has to accept Michael for who he is. Alex had learned to stand on his own two feet and stop pining for Isabel. Kyle had supposedly recognized his emotional attachment to Tess. Valenti lost his job trying to protect the hybrids, but that also seemed to lead him to Amy, once and for all; he also came to terms with the father figure role he had internalized.

No matter the number of dangling plot threads, the character arcs were more or less established. “Viva Las Vegas” reinforced some of those themes, while also seemingly addressing the long-standing feud between Max and Michael and firmly reminding the audience that Liz was still under the impression that she and Max have no future. It was a mission statement of sorts: the rest of the second season would be devoted to wrapping up the major plot and character threads in the hopes of giving the series a sendoff the fans would enjoy.

This episode is the natural progression from the state of affairs in the previous episode as events transition into the final arc. This is all about the characters and moving them into the right places emotionally for the subsequent episodes to make sense. Rather than delivering more of the same, the writers were dedicated to the notion of providing one last set of twists. Again, since there was no expectation of a third season, nothing was considered entirely sacred; it was all about going out on a high note.

All season long, Max and Liz have been orbiting one another, sending each other signals that confuse more than inspire. They tried being indifferent towards one another, and it didn’t work. They tried being friends, but that only made the temptation worse. As Max pushed away his destiny more and more, Liz had Future Max to persuade her to keep Max at a distance. By the time “The Hybrid Chronicles” came along, the two of them were coming to the conclusion, reflected in “Viva Las Vegas”, that they would love each other forever but always at a distance.

Sean DeLuca, originally brought in to aid in the expression of the tragic relationship between Max and Liz, suddenly becomes the incarnation of possibility in Liz’s world. Like Liz said in an earlier episode: Max will never be able to take her all the places that she wants to go. Sean isn’t likely to be that person either, but he’s not Max, and that’s what Liz is coming to terms with. A relationship with Sean, however fleeting, is a relationship with Not Max.

At the same time, the writers resurrect the offer that Tess made, way back at the beginning of the season, to help Max remember his previous life on Antar. What triggered this interest, long denied, is not entirely clear; some time has passed since “How the Other Half Lives” and “Viva Las Vegas”, so it’s possible that this is part of Max’s response to recognizing that he can’t escape his alien heritage. There’s also the biological imperative thing, which isn’t mentioned but must still hold some influence, however minor at this point.

The impending Prom, as usual, gets everyone thinking about beginnings and endings, relationships and the lack thereof. Isabel comes to the realization that she needs to move on after Grant’s demise, and naturally her thoughts turn to Alex. There’s the tension that is always brewing between Michael and Maria. Kyle, through the boorish behavior of his peers, is presented with the chance to consider his feelings for Tess. And Liz, conflicted and confused, wants to be with Max, even if it’s only pretend, which just serves as a metaphor for her entire relationship with him.

Max doesn’t seem to know where they are heading either. Supposedly they’re friends, but there’s too much under the surface for that to work for very long. It’s almost as if his decision to talk about his memories of Antar are a way to cement the friendship angle; he gets to talk things through with Liz, but also remind her (and himself) that there’s something keeping them apart. It’s no mistake that immediately following that conversation, Sean ends up pointing out to Liz that there are other options, and that she’s just as guilty of not moving on.

Isabel is about as subtle as a brick sometimes, and she has a serious problem with empathy. It’s allowed her to manipulate Alex shamelessly in the past, and one has to wonder about her motivations for approaching Alex now. Part of it is that she’s beginning to realize what he has to offer, especially now that he’s not worshipping the ground she walks on, but she also still thinks of him as convenient. Isabel’s constant displays of self-confidence mask an inner isolation that has kept her from forging the kind of relationships that Max/Liz and Michael/Maria ultimately create.

The writers have Tess and Kyle react to one another with a mixture of confusion and worry, which could be interpreted many different ways, given how the season pans out. Tess certainly seems to be focused on her plan to woo Max and get pregnant; with the extension of the season came a revision of her motivations, and it’s obvious. At the same time, she doesn’t want to ruin the relationship with the Valentis, because she’s genuinely enjoying the sense of family. Kyle’s confusion is more straightforward.

Maria complicates her own relationship because Michael has never been entirely trustworthy. So when he follows up on the previous episode with more Maria-centric behavior, she’s suspicious. But it also serves to place Liz in the state of mind necessary to accept that Max might be moving on with Tess, especially since she remembers how his memories were stimulated (literally) in the first season. Liz can’t help but draw conclusions.

A lot of the episode is about Liz recognizing that she hasn’t been committing to the path that she chose in “The End of the World”, and how it’s a larger symptom of how her life has been on hold since “Destiny”. She keeps leaving the door open for Max, and as long as that’s the case, he’s going to believe that it’s not over. Tess exploits that rift when she can; it’s not at all clear whether or not Max is actually having flashes of memory, or whether Tess is mind-warping Max into believing it. It could be a mixture of both.

Where the characters are in relation to high school has never been entirely clear. The implication of this episode is that most of them are juniors. Kyle is an implied senior, given that he went to the Prom the year before, but he could have gone with someone older based on popularity. Isabel somehow manages to get her credits covered a year earlier than usual, something she only shares with Alex. Again, with the series ending in the minds of the writers, these were minor details; the contradictions only appear when the series is taken as a whole.

While there’s never been much doubt that the cast is damned attractive, the Prom wear really makes it obvious. Kyle cleans up well enough, but Tess is as hot as Kyle’s friends make her out to be. Emilie de Ravin was still growing into her beauty at this point; her current tenure on “Lost” has highlighted how she’s grown even more beautiful with time. Maria looks luminous in her hippie garb, as usual (it’s quite fortunate that she doesn’t have that old hair style!). Max looks a bit older than he should (Jason’s true age shining through), but he makes Kyle look damned bad in comparison. But the award for best Prom dress has to go to Liz; Shiri is a lovely young woman, and when all dressed up, she’s impossible to ignore.

As Liz’s voiceover indicates, this episode is meant to bring everyone together for one last time, in relative harmony, before everything falls apart. By the end of the season, two of the characters would be gone. Adding Jim and Amy to the mix, another would disappear completely. It’s hard to reconcile that this episode is essentially the last appearance of the cast that defined the first season. Even the relationships of the first season are reflected, as if to say that things can never be as they were.

The Prom itself begins to implement those emotional changes. Isabel finds contentment, if nothing else, with Alex; thus she is opening herself up to a real relationship just in time to have her heart ripped out in the next episode. Kyle ends up admitting, more to himself than his fellow jock, that Tess is more of a sister than a love interest. Liz finally tells Max that they need to make a decision, and as things stand, it’s clear that she’s attempting a true break. She has more reason for it, but she’s really asking him to give them both permission to end the cycle of uncertainty and heartache.

Kyle explains his revelation to Tess, and her reactions are hard to understand. Does she think he’s trying to make a move? Possibly, but it’s not clear. Given all the heartbreak and deep emotion, it’s no surprise that Liz lets loose a bit and goes wild on the dance floor. It’s not about celebration; it’s about focusing on something other than the pain. Then Michael walks in, and makes Maria feel terrible and wonderful all at once. Michael looks like her knight in shining armor, appropriately enough, and his dialogue is perfect.

In the end, Liz is not immune to reality. Having spent time with Sean, Liz was warming up to the idea of someone who is Not Max. It’s another thing entirely to realize that her decision means that Max and Tess might actually bond, just as she feared. Theoretically, she had to know it; seeing it happen right in front of her was too real for logic to accept. Having taken the step to push Max away, and knowing the cost, Liz finds herself free, with all the conflicting emotions that come with the territory.

Beyond setting the stage for the final plot arc of the season, this is also the end of a process that has been in play since “The End of the World”; the irony is that Liz is now finding her own reasons for doing what Future Max insisted she do in that earlier episode. Liz started the season with the intention of staying away from Max, but her resolve faltered. Future Max imposed an external pressure on Liz, which then became the catalyst for her constant considerations over the pros and cons of responding to his overtures. This episode shows Liz coming to the conclusion that she can survive without Max, despite loving him.

While at the time this appeared to be a permanent situation, and one that was very unpopular, it actually serves as the basis for her later decision to resume a relationship with Max, once he finds himself in a position to no longer be bound to a particular destiny. Once the external pressure to remain apart disappears, Liz is bolstered by the knowledge that she can survive leaving him. By setting herself free in this episode, she is free to choose Max in the future, without believing that it’s a case of hanging on to the past.

Of course, this episode is less painful in retrospect. When it was seen as the beginning of the end for the series, it was hard to reconcile that the relationship between Max and Liz would falter and die in the end. The fact that the series creator, Jason Katims, was on board with both directions implies that there was no true plan set in stone for the series. But that may not be true. After all, coming into this episode, a reconciliation would have been hard to fathom. It might have been more tidy for Tess and Kyle to form a relationship, thus allowing Max and Liz to be together, but the writers were clearly hoping to end the season (and series) on a more angst-ridden note. When the series was renewed at the last moment, the third season gave the writers a chance to move Max and Liz back into a position where a relationship was logical.

The tone of this episode is bittersweet, and not just because it’s meant to be the end of something developed since the beginning of the series. The cast was under the impression that the process of letting go had begun. The picture of the characters before the Prom was about saying goodbye to the series as it was, because those days could never come again. In this sense, using the Prom as the mechanism was the perfect metaphor; for many coming out of high school, the Prom is the last hurrah before everything changes. For “Roswell”, it was the same.


Memorable Quotes

LIZ: “It’s a weeknight, so I probably shouldn’t, you know, commit a felony…”

MICHAEL: “So you actually remember our planet?”
MAX: “Yes!”
MICHAEL: “What are the chicks like?”

MAX: “Everything seems so ephemeral…you know, uh…”
MICHAEL: “Transient, fleeting, impermanent…I know what ‘ephemeral’ means, Maxwell. It’s my life.”

LIZ: “I do not want to hear any more of your stupid, inane comments. I do not want to hear any more of your little theories on life. And I do not wanna write my frickin’ name in mustard, OK?”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is far better than its reputation would leave one to believe. While seeing Liz make a decision to leave Max once and for all is difficult, in the context of the series as a whole, it’s a necessary psychological step towards their eventual long-term future. The other key relationships are all addressed and transformed in this episode, setting the stage for the events that would unfold over the remainder of the season.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

24 4.19: "Day 4: 1AM - 2AM"

Written by Howard Gordon and Evan Katz
Directed by Bryan Spicer

In which Jack and CTU come under fire for the torture of one of Marwan’s associates, jeopardizing an attempt to capture Marwan, while a lead takes Chloe into the field…


Status Report

For several episodes now, the writers have been plotting by numbers, or so it seems. There’s been precious little controversy, beyond hyping a predictable plot twist and ignoring anything approaching layered storytelling. The previous episode, at least, made an attempt at political commentary, even if it missed the mark and wound up delivering a disturbing message. Oddly, that disturbing message is reinforced in this episode; how it happens is actually far more interesting, because it manages to delve into character exploration at the same time.

Not that the early part of the episode doesn’t have major problems, because it surely does. After making much ado about Jack’s faux-resignation at the end of the previous episode, that little detail is completely ignored. Looking back, it’s not entirely clear if Buchanan agreed to Jack’s resignation or decided that Jack was right, though the suggestion is certainly that Jack is going rogue by choice to shield CTU from consequence.

So what happens? As soon as Jack gets the information from Prado and seemingly knocks him silly, Prado is suddenly in the CTU infirmary, where he’s getting more and better attention from the staff than Driscoll’s daughter received. Audrey notices that Prado has been tortured into giving information, and just like that, the whole idea of shielding CTU is out the window. As Buchanan defends the decision to countermand the President, further invalidating Jack’s rationale, Jack compounds the problem by joining in on the mission to take Marwan into custody.

If Jack had actually resigned, then how could he be on the mission, let alone effectively running the show with Buchanan’s blessing? His duties would revert to the DOD, and as the representative of the Secretary of Defense, Audrey would technically have the authority over Jack and his activities. As such, if Audrey had such a major issue with Jack’s decision to ignore the President, she could have had him arrested right then and there.

The overwhelming tone of the episode, however, suggests that Jack was absolutely right to take action, even if it meant going against the desires of the President. Buchanan wholeheartedly stands behind Jack, and most of the CTU personnel are of the same opinion. As Mike Novick badgers President Logan into accepting the torture of a civilian (however guilty), Logan is portrayed as weak for failing to make this kind of decision.

Oddly enough, if the intent is to sell the audience on the idea that Jack/CTU are morally correct and Logan is weak, that’s not quite what happens. The message is far more subversive, whether the writers intended it or not. Every time someone defends the use of torture, there’s a self-righteousness that creeps into their tone of voice, a belief that their front-line tactics should not be questioned, even by a President. And that’s a very slippery slope to defend, which is the point that the writers ultimately communicate.

The scene that drives this morally ambiguous message home is between Mike and Buchanan. Buchanan defends Jack’s decision, and even acknowledges that he would also be accountable (further negating Jack’s gesture in the previous episode). He goes even further by suggesting that they fabricate the timeline in the official report, so that it appears that Jack acted after Logan’s presumed acceptance of extreme methods. It’s an eye-opener, if only because one begins to wonder what else Buchanan is willing to overlook in the name of “getting the job done”. “Asking forgiveness instead of permission” is one hell of an arrogant and self-serving policy.

And that’s probably the point. For those that believe in Jack’s mandate that he should have the ability to act using any means necessary when national security is on the line, this is where that logic ultimately arrives. CTU becomes little more than a government-sponsored organized vigilante syndicate, operating outside the law whenever it’s convenient. It’s one thing to act with confidence and purpose, and quite another to suggest that the President is unfit for duty if he doesn’t agree with CTU’s interpretation of “necessary”.

Meanwhile, as if to drag the audience further down that slope, the terrorists get closer to arming the stolen nuclear warhead. This is meant to remind the viewers that the debate is not, in terms of the narrative, purely theoretical. There is a clear and present danger. But that’s exactly the kind of situation where this moral dilemma rises to the forefront. If the stakes weren’t so high, CTU wouldn’t need to operate on their own authority, and the President wouldn’t be involved in the process of authorizing the torture that CTU saw fit to use on citizens earlier in the season.

While the audience ponders the fact that CTU’s tactics all season long have been highly questionable, no matter how expedient, the writers slip another plot thread into the mix. Nabila is a more subtle example of the “loyal” Middle Eastern American; she’s willing to take a stand against a loved one when she discovers his anti-American sentiments and unusual travel schedules. It’s a little odd that she would be more disturbed by what she can access on his computer than the fact that most of the other files are encrypted, but it serves the purpose of delivering the necessary message: true citizens of every nationality support anti-terrorism.

Audrey has already been shown as unrealistic in her assessment of Jack and his methods, so it’s only fair to use her as a way to defend Jack’s rationale for torturing Prado. Buchanan doesn’t deny giving Jack permission to act against Logan’s wishes, and he even chides her for being foolish enough to think that the rules apply on the front line of the war on terror. The fact that many fans view Audrey as being a harpy for strongly disagreeing with ignoring the President for the sake of expediency more than justifies this particular plot thread; it exposes an area of debate missing from the season for quite some time.

Logan, rather annoyed with the idea of having his wishes ignored, orders Secret Service to arrest Jack and hold him accountable. Now, this is another area where the writers make it too easy for Logan to look stupid and CTU look justified. Logan refuses to wait until the terror threat is over to arrest Jack and hold him accountable; he insists that Jack be taken into custody immediately. There’s simply no way for that to end well, especially since Jack and Curtis doing a very good job of surrounding Marwan.

While Chloe takes a call from Nabila and gets the feeling that it could be important, Marwan records a speech to be aired on the East Coast at dawn. Apparently the plan is to detonate the nuclear warhead before then, so that Americans will awaken (some a lot sooner than others) to the news of millions incinerated for the crimes of American imperialism. Taken in context with Buchanan’s anything-goes mentality, it’s hard not to wonder if Marwan has a philosophical point. How he communicates that point, of course, is entirely reprehensible, but that doesn’t mean that his anger is unjustified.

Secret Service arrives just at the wrong time, when Jack is in a sensitive location and spying on Marwan. The idea of pulling him out and replacing him, when they have solid reason to believe that Marwan is in the building, is ludicrous. However, the point must be driven home that Logan is entirely weak and ineffective, and that interfering in CTU operations is a foolish and potentially deadly move. Except, of course, the Secret Service logically could have justified waiting for Jack without violating their mandate, if only by contacting the President again once the specific situation was recognized.

Of course, that doesn’t happen, and Marwan gets away because CTU’s cover is blown. Despite claiming that he understands the gravity of his earlier decision to act against Logan’s orders, he doesn’t recognize that the Secret Service wasn’t the real problem. He and Buchanan were. The situation could have been avoided just as easily if Jack had been kept out of the field until the matter with Logan was resolved, concurrent with Curtis’ operation at the nightclub. One can argue that Jack and Buchanan couldn’t have known how Logan would react, but the fact is, they knew within minutes that Jack’s “resignation” gambit wouldn’t work and that Jack would be held accountable.

Since Chloe’s conversation hasn’t resulted in a lead yet, CTU is left without options. Worse, they have the ability, thanks to Jack’s video feed, to use Marwan’s presence as instant justification of their actions, the ultimate example of “the ends justify the means”. Logan is left feeling responsible for all but aiding and abetting a terrorist plotting to kill millions. It’s little wonder that the man feels like he’s the biggest screw-up in the history of mankind. Mike, however, recognizes that there is a man of relative integrity (third season aside) who can help: David Palmer. (Isn’t it interesting to note that Palmer is a one-term president with a sudden chance to regain political stock?)

Even if Logan comes to the conclusion that he was wrong to take Jack into custody during a critical op, it seems a bit easy for Jack to be given an instant pardon. Why wouldn’t Logan simply defer the arrest, since it was still an unauthorized assault on a civilian? This could come up in future episodes, but it wouldn’t be very surprising if it didn’t. This helps to underscore the idea that CTU (and Jack) should simply be allowed to do what they want. (Hopefully, the point is to let the audience be as uncomfortable with that as they want to be.)

The character exploration comes into play when Logan is shown, throughout the process, to be a man of sincere doubt. He’s not stupid; he’s overwhelmed. Keeler was no less overwhelmed, but he was also pushing CTU to do more and deal with the situation before things got out of control. It’s hard to imagine any Vice-President with the ability to lead effectively within minutes of a major terrorist act and the near-death of the President. Logan’s doubts are overdone a bit, and placed in a negative context, but his self-doubt is well-depicted.

Lest an episode be free of CTU Office Drama, Chloe and Edgar battle over the use of critical systems. Chloe’s information is the only lead on the table, but as already ably demonstrated in an earlier episode, CTU doesn’t know what the audience knows and thus bickering gets in the way of promoting new leads. In short order, however, Chloe is able to show Tony and Buchanan what Nabila found on her boyfriend’s computer. Apparently Sabir was encrypting porn, because the schematics of the microchip used to reconfigure the nuclear warhead are readily available for download.

This, however, triggers the plot development that gives this episode an instant level of fan appreciation: Chloe goes into the field! Granted, it’s initially just to get her hands on Sabir’s laptop and conduct the analysis, but the look on Chloe’s face says it all. The plot quickly moves forward to Chloe on the way to the Nabila’s house, ready to gnaw her way out of the back of the car, bemoaning her situation to Edgar. There’s even the hint that all the drama has been geek foreplay; Edgar tells Chloe exactly what she needs to hear to gain some measure of confidence.

For the fans, things get tense when the terrorists arrive to kill Nabila and any CTU in sight. Chloe ends up calling Jack, who actually seems incredibly worried that something might happen to Chloe. (After all, she was the only one willing to help him at the beginning of the season, so the case for loyalty is there.) Chloe eventually winds up in the CTU car, without the keys, and things are looking grim. Considering the seasonal body count, Chloe’s chances were not looking good. And then she manages to pull out that rifle, and with zero hesitation, she pulls that thing out and drills the terrorist assassin until he’s mincemeat.

It’s the perfect place to end the episode, because most of the earlier sins of slanted politics are quickly wiped clean by the sheer enjoyment of watching Chloe kick some major terrorist butt. The fact is that Chloe is the CTU tech with the most personality, and as a result, she’s a fan favorite (as much as they hated her when she was first introduced). There was reason to worry about Chloe’s survival, and the writers had to know that the audience would love the idea of Chloe letting out some negative energy with a high-caliber weapon!

Without the final plot development with Chloe, the episode would have been another example of the “quickly resolved plot complication” problem that has plagued this season since the meltdown. The hourly reports disappeared once they were mined for drama, the lawyer from Amnesty Global completely vanished (was there no follow-up?), and Jack’s little resignation doesn’t seem to have mattered at all. There’s also the question of Secretary Heller’s absence, Tony’s future status, Driscoll, Jack’s previous rogue activity, and the apparent lack of concern over the San Gabriel body count. There’s a lot to be dealt with in the final episodes, that’s for sure.

But in terms of this series, there’s a certain expectation that some issues will remain unresolved, since the action takes place in one 24-hour period. How many complex issues find resolution in that kind of short time frame? It’s more about resolving the immediate threat, and then making it clear that certain consequences will result from the extreme measures taken in the process. So in many cases, resolution is relative. The concern is that the writers set up some situations as if they represent the beginning (at a minimum) of a defined story arc, which is then quickly abandoned.

This is sometimes inevitable, but the duty of the writing staff is to make the season arc so exciting and unpredictable (within certain logical bounds) that the audience is able to overlook the dangling plot threads. This episode largely accomplishes that task, since it’s hard to imagine that anyone was thinking about the ramifications of the earlier acts once Chloe was in the field. Had the attack on Air Force One not been telegraphed and overhyped, it might have served the same purpose. When one looks to compare this well-received episode against the less-favored episodes from the middle of the season, this factor should be kept firmly in mind.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode had many of the same pitfalls as the previous run of episodes since the meltdown, but the final plot development regarding Chloe did a great job of making them easy to forget. While there were some serious logical and continuity-related problems with the first half of the episode, it did lead to some welcome character exploration. It’s still not hitting all cylinders again, but it’s getting better.

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

Final Rating: 7/10

Season Average (as of 4.19): 6.7

Angel 1.12: "Expecting"

Written by Howard Gordon
Directed by David Semel

In which a night of passion leaves Cordelia with an unexpected gift, which turns out to be the spawn of a demon, leaving Angel and Wesley with a race against time to save her…


Status Report

Considering the difficulty of establishing a unique presence within the Buffyverse, hampered by the sudden (planned or not) removal of one of the three pivotal characters, it’s not surprising that the writers struggled with the direction that the series should take. The first season was essentially about establishing Angel’s connection to humanity and his role as Champion, but it was also about establishing his “family”.

The point of this episode, beyond the simple pleasures of a Cordy-centric tale, is to complete the task of integrating Wesley into the gang. Angel and Cordy are already bonded well enough, but there’s the short and sweet conversion of Wesley from total prig to well-intentioned novice warrior still left to address. By the end of the episode, it’s hard to see Wesley as the outsider anymore, which is what the writers were going for. The problem is that this is an episode filled with good moments, but it doesn’t come together as a fully satisfying whole.

At the beginning of the episode, Wesley is still acting like he needs to beg for inclusion; he’s taking his battle axe on a walk, after all! He’s not sure whether or not he truly belongs, and he knows that both Angel and Cordy have reasons to keep him at a distance, given his past association with them. Cordy, on the other hand, is trying to work out her emotional response to Doyle’s demise. She’s seeking something comfortable and familiar, and hanging with women of popular social status gives her a feeling of “home”.

Cordy’s friends are about as shallow as the pack she used to rule in Sunnydale. Interestingly, she’s not trying to be the queen this time around; she’s apparently content to be one of Serena’s attendants and just bask in the insincere attention. It’s her way of stepping out of her current life situation into her fantasy world; part of that, of course, is going something relatively non-characteristic, like bagging one of the social alpha males.

Almost immediately, Angel and Wesley demonstrate why they make a good team. Wesley’s bumbling was quickly recast as a self-depreciating wit, balanced by a growing competence with his battle tactics. Wesley may still end up on his ass, but he doesn’t stay there and whine about it. He keeps fighting, keeps improving, and it’s turning him into someone with something genuine to offer. In short, he’s becoming the kind of man that Giles must have been in his younger days (just without the “evil” period).

Wesley may still feel a need to prove himself, but he’s comfortable enough to discuss Cordy’s lack of focus on the mission with Angel. That said, it’s hard to hear Wesley speak about the isolation and sacrifices of being a “demon hunter” when he has so much pain and suffering in his future. Angel’s comment about Cordy’s youth makes it even more ironic, since Wesley is still stuck in the romantic notion of fighting evil and battling demons. But Angel is getting comfortable with Wesley, because he can see that they share a personal need for a sense of redemption.

Cordy’s conversation with Wilson is full of naïve honesty, and it’s hard not to figure out that she’s being taken advantage of. Indeed, that’s largely the point: by turning outside of her new “family”, Cordy finds herself in jeopardy. Driven by her need for instant validation, by the need for some assurance that she’s not losing herself in the midst of so many major life changes (her year has, indeed, sucked big time), Cordy just wants a man of status to treat her the way she wants to be treated.

Of course, even if she’s in a state of self-delusion, Phantom Dennis is not. In one of the more clever aspects of the episode, Phantom Dennis tries to communicate his concerns to Cordy, but she doesn’t want to hear it. Phantom Dennis was a terribly difficult concept to pull off, as evidenced by his infrequent use, but there’s something palpably sweet about his protective attitude. Cordy’s counter-attack is just as good a highlight.

Rather quickly, of course, the episode jumps into the “Rosemary’s Baby” territory, which is all but played out at this point. It doesn’t take long for Angel and Wesley to realize that something is wrong, and when they find Cordy in her pregnant state, they don’t go on the warpath with moralizing. This is especially pertinent when it comes to Wesley; earlier in the episode, he happily judged Cordy’s new friends as promiscuous, and it was not a good thing in his book. But in a nice bit of character growth, Wesley sets that aside and deals with helping Cordelia with her condition, whatever that might mean. It’s a big step for him to take.

The episode then begins to move from scene to scene, with moments of varying success. The character development and “family” concept continue to be the best aspects of the episode. Angel’s botched attempt at bribing the bartender is a nice moment, but it’s easily trumped by Angel’s parting comment that he’s not a friend, but rather, “family”. Similarly, the visit to the doctor’s office has some musing and disturbing moments, but it’s far more notable for how well it depicts Wesley’s brotherly concern for Cordy.

It doesn’t take long for Angel to get some useful exposition from Serena, who is likewise pregnant. There’s little question that Cordy will eventually be “cured”, but it’s interesting to watch her struggle with the slow but methodical process of “possession”, as the demonic little buggers begin to instill the mothers with an intense desire to protect. The highlight, of course, is the scene where Cordy drinks the blood from Angel’s stock; even with some minor editing problems, it chills to the bone.

The resolution is fairly standard, since it’s not a shock when Cordy knocks Wesley cold to go join her possessed sisterhood. But on the plus side, Wesley doesn’t get knocked out by his foolishness, and when it comes to saving Cordy, he shows resolve. Having the demonic babies disappear without a trace once the demon is defeated is a bit of a plot convenience, but in this case, it’s almost inevitable. Besides, the plot itself is merely an excuse to demonstrate how the gang is finally coming together.

This is efficiently communicated in the final scene, when Angel and Wesley devote a great deal of energy and time to making Cordy feel welcome and comfortable upon her return. Actions speak louder than words, and both men spoke volumes about their devotion to Cordy and her well-being, no matter what the differences of opinion might be. Wesley gets to be the butt of another joke, but this time, it’s actually rather sweet. Given what is later revealed about his relationship with, well, everyone else in the world, it’s quite possible that this is the closest thing to family he’s ever had.

Given that it is more about character dynamic development than the actual plot itself, this episode rarely stands out in the minds of the fans as a major stepping stone. Instead, there’s a bit of controversy over whether or not this episode represents Cordelia’s “first time”. Cordy was never explicitly shown as being sexually active in the past, and so many found it jarring for her first on-screen sexual encounter to be so quick out of the gate.

In essence, Cordy is seeking a physical release of emotional pain, and so she finds a suitable successful young man, closer to her apparent standards, and takes what she needs. It’s not something that she would do if she had never slept with anyone before. Hard as it is for many to admit, despite similar memories of their own high school experience, the popularity of a young woman, especially in the “in crowd”, is sometimes measured by their willingness to sleep with the popular boys. And Cordelia was nothing if not popular, and willing to do anything to maintain that popularity for quite some time.

This is sometimes taken as evidence that Cordy is not the kind of person that was previously presented to the audience. Why should that be the case? If anything, Cordy acted like the kind of social climber who would use her sexuality as a means to an end, thus making her lack of sexual activity with Xander an expression of her true emotional state. In other words, if she didn’t sleep with Xander, it was probably because she truly cared for him; it would have been wrong, in her value system, to abuse that trust by taking things too quickly.

In a sense, to judge Cordelia’s morality based on this episode would be to do exactly what many fans thought Wesley would do. And since many were surprised that Wesley was able to overcome his self-righteous attitudes and care for Cordelia as a human being, that’s not painting those with objections in a very positive light.

For all that it brings the transition from Doyle to Wesley to a relative close, it’s also an episode that doesn’t take the overall season very far. It’s an episode that feels more like filler than a part of a larger whole, an episode needed to repair rather than enhance. And certainly, there were signs of uncertain direction for the rest of the season, perhaps due to the circumstances of Doyle’s (apparently) premature exit. This episode was a part of that fallout, and as such, it bears the burden of being somewhat utilitarian rather than memorable.


Memorable Quotes

CORDY: “Would it kill you to hum a little tune when sneaking up on people?”
ANGEL: “I don’t hum.”

CORDY: “Because she was from France. Remember what a pain she was?”
ANGEL: “Yeah…it made me want to drink a lot.”
CORDY: “Well, that’s the French for you…”

WESLEY: “Don’t move a muscle, demon spawn! Cowards, don’t make me thrash it out of you! Where do you lay your eggs? In the cellar?”
ANGEL: “Wesley…”
WESLEY: “In the bedroom?”
ANGEL: “Yeah, that’s right! Termites lay their eggs anywhere, such as next door!”
WESLEY: “Oh…”
ANGEL: “And we fight termites, wherever they may roam!”
WESLEY: “Sorry about the door…”

WESLEY: “You don’t think sticking the axe in the wall put them off?”
ANGEL: “That was charming.”
WESLEY: “What about the fact that they thought we were gay?”
ANGEL: “Adds mystery…”

WILSON: “You live alone, right?”
CORDY: “In the sense that I’m the only one living here that’s actually alive.”
WILSON: “That was a yes…I think…”

ANGEL: “Have you talked to Wilson?”
CORDY: “No. I haven’t talked to anyone. What would I say to him? I had a really good time, I think you left something at my place?”

ANGEL: “You’re gonna have to see what’s inside her.”
WESLEY: “I beg your pardon?”
ANGEL: “Pre-natal exam, Wesley…”

BARTENDER: “So…you’re her boyfriend.”
ANGEL: “No…I’m family.”

ANGEL: “I don’t think I ever realized just how disgusting that was. Get her back to bed.”
WESLEY: “Yes.”
ANGEL: “Maybe order her a pizza or something.”
WESLEY: “Good idea…”

CORDY: “I learned something, too. I learned…um…men are evil. Oh, wait, I knew that. I learned that LA is full of self-serving phonies. No…had that one down, too. Uh…sex is bad?”
ANGEL: “We all knew that.”
CORDY: “OK…I learned that I have two people I trust absolutely with my life. And that part’s new.”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was not very exciting. The “Rosemary’s Baby” retread was mostly an excuse for exploring the growing sense of family between Angel, Cordy, and Wesley, thus completing the process of bringing Wesley fully into the fold. While there are many good scenes along the way, the whole is somewhat lacking of anything distinctive.

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

Final Rating: 6/10

Enterprise 4.18: "In a Mirror, Darkly"

Written by Mike Sussman
Directed by James L. Conway

In which the Archer of the “Mirror Universe” plots to take command of Enterprise by any means necessary, lured by the possibility of taking possession of a Human ship from the future…


Captain’s Log

The previous episode, a stand-alone effort by Manny Coto focusing on the Orion Slave Women, polarized the audience in a major way. Some fans strongly defended it, seeing it as a suitable homage to the original series, while others lambasted it for its seeming violations of continuity and overtones of sexism. As a result, coming into this episode, the fandom was all abuzz, with many shouting sarcastic expectation that if the previous episode was loathed, this one would also be overlooked.

The premise, of course, is that anyone “bashing” an episode of “Enterprise” must, by extension, have some kind of personal issue with the series as a whole. This is something of an oversimplification, and it ignores the nuances of subjectivity. If the previous episode’s reviews (this one included) demonstrated anything, it’s that a reviewer cannot be wholly objective about the merits of a creative work. The reviewer always brings something unique to the table, a set of standards that cannot be entirely shared or communicated.

That said, it should come as no surprise that this episode was received more favorably. If the previous episode was an homage to episodes of the original series like “Mudd’s Women”, firmly entrenched in the sexual mores of the previous generation, then this is a direct homage to “Mirror, Mirror”. Some scenes look like they could have been cut, word for word, out of the scenes written for the “mirror universe” in that classic episode.

Taken out of perspective, this episode could have been ripped to shreds. Everyone is acting in a style so over the top that it is sometimes laughable. There’s nothing to connect the events of this episode to the ongoing plot and character threads developed over the course of the season, thus making this more of an event than a legitimate extension of the season’s theme. In other words, a lot of the same problems that plagued the previous episode are also evident in this installment.

However, this is where the subjective aspect of reviewing comes into play. While the previous episode’s attempt at light-hearted adventure fell somewhat flat, the similar attempt to break format in this episode works far better. As dark and violent as the proceedings are, there’s an unmistakable air of creative energy pervading every moment. The actors are having fun, and it shows. If the tone sometimes veers dangerously close to silliness, it’s still entirely consistent with the tone of “Mirror, Mirror”, which makes it easier to forgive.

There is also another critical difference between “Bound” and this episode that demonstrates way one was problematic, from a reviewer’s perspective, and the other is not, despite the similar theme of homage. “Bound” was firmly rooted in the existing continuity of the series and the season, and thus it fell within the strictures of the established universe and all the baggage (justified or otherwise) that it carries. The “mirror universe”, on the other hand, has perhaps half a dozen episodes worth of “continuity” attached to it, leaving an awful lot of room for speculation. The strictures of an expectation don’t exist.

This frees the writing staff to take chances and make writing choices that would never be possible if the “real” characters were the ones in play. It also means that an over the top performance does nothing to steal away from the integrity of the “real” characters. Everyone can channel their inner Klingon with relish, chewing on the scenery like there’s no tomorrow, and still look forward to jumping back into familiar clothes when the story’s done.

By making it clear that this episode takes place in the “mirror universe”, an alternate reality, the audience is also let off the hook. While some fans look at each episode as a fresh adventure, many do not; there’s the accumulated desire for character advancement and plot development. This kind of episode allows everyone in the audience to let go and simply enjoy it for what it is. Instead of wondering whether or not the Orion Slave Women can logically rule the Syndicate, the audience can accept that Phlox is a sadist, Hoshi uses sex to gain personal power, and Archer is an ambitious career climber.

Ironically, there are going to be fans who watch this episode and wish that the series could have been this exciting and different from the beginning. Certainly, this is a reaction to the sheer amount of creative glee that oozes from every scene. Even the opening credits show more creativity than half of the second season episodes combined! The costuming is consistent with those used in “Mirror, Mirror”, and more than a few clues regarding the beginnings of the Empire are dropped in the teaser and credits.

From a logical perspective, it’s hard to imagine that history could change in so many dramatic ways, yet produce a set of conditions in which all the major players are essentially in the same relative positions. This has always been the case with the “mirror universe”, and this episode is certainly no exception. In keeping with the ‘DS9” episodes dealing with the “mirror universe”, the characters and situations are not directly opposite those of the existing universe; the relationship are far more complex.

While there’s plenty of speculation and debate over the question, going back to “Mirror, Mirror”, the opening credits seem to give a general answer regarding when the “mirror universe” was created. (Logically, the multi-verse model that allows for the “mirror universe” would dictate that both realities always existed; the question is really when the two diverged from a parallel history.) The time period appears to be World War II. Based on the evidence, it appears that in the process of defeating the Nazis, the Allies became the very thing they had sought to overcome.

The Empire is apparently dealing with an insurrection, perhaps from forces opposed to the Empire itself. This would be an interesting direction to take, if only because it would be consistent with the idea that the Empire had to solidify its own power base before moving on to the expansion activities evidenced in “Mirror, Mirror”. The need to defeat the “rebellion” forces, apparently gaining strength of late, pushes Archer into a gambit to preserve the Empire by betraying those around him in the hopes of getting a prize out of Tholian space: the USS Defiant, lost to time and space in the original series episode “The Tholian Web”.

The writers drop a neat continuity bomb right in the audience lap: the inter-phase rift encountered in Tholian space in the “real” universe is, in fact, the result of a weapons experiment by the Tholians of the “mirror universe”. This is definitely an interesting concept, especially since it doesn’t truly contradict any of the previous explanations offered in the novels; this is merely the information that Archer received regarding the rift, and as such, it is possibly incorrect. Whatever the case, this allows the writers to add another layer of homage to the original series, by pulling in an old-style Constellation-class vessel into the mix, complete with the uniforms and technology of that era.

Archer’s gambit, of course, triggers all the intrigues that play out over the course of the episode. Captain Forrest has the support of the admiralty, who in turn has planted spies within the crew to ensure loyalty to Forrest. Archer and Forrest, despite being apparent allies prior to this situation, are locked in competition for a very, very sexy and opportunistic Hoshi Sato. (It’s easy to believe that Hoshi, in this episode, had more sex appeal than the Orion Slave Women of the previous episode combined!) It’s not wrong to say that Hoshi has more character development in this episode than in the past three seasons.

Reed’s strict military upbringing is warped into a more sadistic vein, making him the perfect security officer on the Empire’s flagship. Reed seems to be loyal to whichever commander happens to be more likely to get him what he wants. Phlox, on the other hand, is above it all; he simply wants to pursue his personal interest in extreme medical research (think Mengele, only with a far more interesting fashion sense). Trip remains hot for T’Pol and chief engineer, but he’s not the pretty-boy of the “real” Enterprise; he suffers from the lack of safety precautions in the “mirror” version of engineering science.

T’Pol, like Hoshi, is far more interesting in this universe. Instead of the conflicted, troubled Vulcan of the “real” universe, this T’Pol is an aggressive member of an enslaved Vulcan people, used by the Empire for their talents. This “enslavement” is suspect, given the fact that slaves wouldn’t hold rank, but it’s in keeping with “Mirror, Mirror” and its presentation of the Human/Vulcan relationship. T’Pol looks far more attractive with the long hair and midriff-baring standard uniform that she ever has with the pageboy cut and catsuits; there’s also the fact that she openly uses sexuality to ensnare Trip and mentally rape him into becoming her stooge. T’Pol becomes, in essence, the Vulcan version of an Uncle Tom, betraying her culture’s precepts in a bid for power within the Human society.

Even Mayweather gets some much-needed focus in this episode. It’s as if the writers, spurred by the creative possibilities, sought to give every character time to shine. This shouldn’t be a surprise, since Coto has attempted to give the “minor” characters more screen time, but it would have been nice for Hoshi and Mayweather to get this kind of attention from the beginning.

Beyond the interesting changes to the characters, there’s a ton of great moments throughout. The redesign of the Enterprise interior is perfectly suited to the tone of the episode; if anything, it would have been nice for this to have been the design all along. The faithful recreation of the original series-style bridge, complete with the sound effects, was a wonderful nod to the franchise continuity as a whole. Seeing the Tholians in more detail (and largely consistent with the Tholians as described in the novels) was a treat, as well as the updated version of the Tholian Web!

The destruction of the Enterprise was something that never could have worked in the “real” continuity, but in this self-contained reality, it’s a logical plot progression. It really demonstrates that the writers understood that the gloves were off, and that the extent of the changes and direction taken by the plot had more to do with budget than imagination. It’s a lot of fun to see the “world-building” used to such great effect in the Vulcan and Andorian arcs applied to a twisted version of Humanity.

It’s quite possible (even probable) that some of the long-fuming detractors of “Enterprise” will still find plenty of fault with this episode. As mentioned earlier, there are some flaws to be exploited in that regard. But unlike the previous episode, the flaws are more easily forgiven in this case, and even the most arc-minded fan must admit that this is a worthwhile and spirited diversion from the norm.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was a fun and exciting diversion from the “normal” continuity. Like most “Mirror Universe” episodes, the writers have a chance to display a bit more creativity, and in this case, that possibility was mined for all it’s worth. Some of the character actually turn out to be more interesting than the “real” characters have turned out, and the chance to see the classic-style Starfleet bridge again is too good to pass up.

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

Final Rating: 9/10

Season Average (as of 4.18): 7.6

Alias 4.18: "Another Mister Sloane"

Written by Luke McMullen
Directed by Greg Yaitanes

In which the team discovers that Sloane’s imposter is trying to assemble a Rambaldi device, and Sloane is forced to face his obsession as the only one who can track his imposter down…


Status Report

After the previous episode, there were hints and indications that the writing staff had been carefully building up several plot and character arcs, setting up the game board while letting the network have their early stand-alone episodes to woo new viewers to the series. JJ Abrams always told the fans that they should be patient, because once the season arc finally kicked into high gear, it would not disappoint. The previous episode seemed to confirm that assessment.

This episode far exceeds it.

There’s a moment, as a fan of an arc-driven series, when all the worries over a season’s fortunes come to a head. Sometimes, all the nagging weaknesses begin to pile up, until it’s clear that the writers are fighting a losing battle against themselves (the fourth season of “Buffy”; the current season of “24”, as examples). Other times, it’s a question of having faith that, eventually, it will all come together. That’s where this season of “Alias” comes in.

Now fully in serial mode, the series has begun mining the earlier episodes in the season and its previous continuity to tell a compelling story. At the center of this story is one of the most complex and disturbing characters ever created: Arvin Sloane. If the creators of “Alias” learned anything from “X-Files”, it was this: make sure that the motivations of the main villain, obscure or not, have a discernable psychological basis.

Sloane’s apparent motivations have changed over the course of the series, if only because JJ initially wanted to get people hooked on the central dynamic before introducing Sloane’s obsession with Rambaldi. If the whole Rambaldi mythology is now about as muddled and confusing as the mythology of “X-Files”, one thing is very clear: Sloane’s actions have always been about his belief in Rambaldi and his prophecies. And as fortunes change and alliances shift, he has to struggle with the personal desire to follow that belief and the effect it has on others.

Before the third season, the person keeping Sloane relatively sane, if not moral, was Emily. There were indications that Sloane was mostly interested in Rambaldi’s search for immortality for Emily’s sake. When Emily died, however, Sloane’s existence became consumed within the search for Rambaldi’s true endgame, something far beyond a formula for eternal life. He was even willing to sacrifice his own daughter to that goal.

The journeys of Arvin and Nadia, after the third season finale, have never been explained, despite having been referenced more than once. But even Sloane admitted that his actions drove a wedge between him and Nadia, and he has claimed that it was spending time with his daughter and discovering how his obsession was driving her away that led to his latest reformation. Nadia certainly has reason to want to believe, given her past history, but when it comes to Sloane, who can be certain of motives?

As it turns out, one aspect of the theory developed over the course of the season has been confirmed: Sloane and Jack have been using APO to keep Sydney and Nadia safe. There’s still a specific threat that remains concealed, but Sloane recognized that his search for Rambaldi was a threat to Nadia, and she has become the anchor to his sanity, serving the same function that Emily once fulfilled.

What’s amazing is the apparent lack of guile; Sloane seems to be genuinely concerned about the thought of losing himself to Rambaldi again. He’s all too aware of what happened during his time with Nadia, even if the audience doesn’t know the details; the closer he got to the final piece of the puzzle, it seems, the more violently obsessed he became. And so he knows that this imposter Sloane, if he is mirroring Sloane’s own choices and psychology, must also be consumed by the same madness.

If the essential rationale for the pact between Sloane and Jack has been confirmed, it’s offset by the revelation that both men apparently believe Irina to be dead. In fact, unless Jack is one hell of an actor, Irina was killed by a gunshot to the temple, right in front of Jack’s eyes. That eliminates the possibility that Irina is working with Sloane and Jack (with their knowledge) to hunt down the threat to Sydney and Nadia. So, all too aware that Irina is alive out there, the question becomes: how did she survive, and is she working with her sister Yelena to achieve the Rambaldi endgame?

These questions are on the table before the end of the second segment, and things get even better from there. Arvin Clone demonstrates the same single-minded obsession as the real Sloane, even to the point of abducting the necessary scientific talent to get the job done. Michelle Forbes (still sexy as hell) does a great job as the guest torture victim, providing bits and pieces of exposition between moments of terror and agony.

Meanwhile, the writers construct a powerful conflict of interest by forcing nearly everyone into the most unwanted direction possible: giving Sloane access to Rambaldi artifacts again, so he can play Hannibal Lector to Arvin Clone. The character dilemma is of keen interest: will Sloane remain focused on the life he’s tried to build for the sake of his daughter, or will he let his obsession with Rambaldi overwhelm his honest search for redemption?

After spending several episodes building up Sydney as the unyielding, hate-filled sister and Nadia as the compassionate and forgiving one, the writers blur the lines a bit more. Nadia, so very convinced that Sydney is unfairly judging her father and denying him the chance to prove himself, slowly but surely begins to have her doubts. In essence, she’s in the position that Sydney usually claims as her own: knowing the depths of Sloane’s potential for evil and madness better than anyone. If Sloane has been protecting Nadia for some outside evil, then Nadia has joined APO in the hopes of protecting Sloane from himself.

This is where Arvin Clone comes into play. Arvin Clone is ultimately the embodiment of everything that Sloane has rejected, in a metaphorical sense. It’s a reminder to everyone, but especially Nadia and Sloane himself, of what Sloane is capable of, under the right (or wrong) circumstances. To defeat Arvin Clone, Sloane must not simply understand his enemy; he must commit to the task of defeating the darkness within himself. Sloane understands (if the expression on his face is any indication) that he might very well defeat the imposter, only to become that man again.

How hard would it be, after all, for Sloane to eliminate the enemy, and then step into the role already created for him, resources intact and technology in hand? The temptation is not simply to resume his obsession with Rambaldi, but to take command of the efforts that have been amassed in his name. In a logical but completely unexpected move, both Jack and Sydney support the notion of sending Sloane into this ultimate moral trial. For Sydney, it’s a question of expediency and trusting her sister’s instincts, but for Jack, the reasons are far more subtle.

Jack knows that he’s a dead man, as things stand. (One must set aside, for the moment, the obvious solution of Rambaldi’s healing formula, used for Alison Doran.) If all his efforts have been devoted to protecting Sydney, and if he believes that the threat is powerful enough to require an alliance with his worst enemy, then he must be terribly concerned about how to ensure Sydney is protected once he is gone. Right now, his only choice is Sloane, sad as it seems. As a result, Jack wants to see Sloane face this temptation and prove himself, because that is the only way Jack can ever trust Sloane to protect Sydney.

Sloane has all the information necessary to know how close Arvin Clone is to achieving his goals, and as such, Sloane understands perfectly the devotion required to get to that point. So does Nadia, and now she has plenty of reason to wonder if her father is going to return to the madness. In fact, it’s clear that he has; at the very least, it’s still below the surface, waiting to come out. The zealot is waiting for the chance to emerge, and it’s not at all certain that Sloane will be able to pull it back under control.

This episode also pulled the purpose of the Nightingale experiment closer to clarity, and it’s damned interesting. “Nightingale” revealed that the coil can make vast changes to the molecular structure of organic cellular structure, which ties in nicely with the Rambaldi desire to heal and immortalize the human body. But Arvin Clone was working on the coil and its mechanism in relation to the Circumference, the “red ball” containment field that was never placed into a particular Rambaldi context.

What was revealed in “The Passage” in the second season was the reality of Rambaldi’s ability to preserve life. He succeeded in keeping a person alive for centuries, as revealed in the first season. If the coil is also part of the power source for a large version of the Circumference, then it might be possible that whatever is within the Circumference containment field is meant to be transformed by the effect of the coil. The Circumference, therefore, is vital to the whole Rambaldi endgame, which makes perfect sense, as it was the first item revealed on the series.

According to the Rambaldi mythos, Sydney and Nadia are represented by the two outer symbol of the “Eye of Rambaldi” (). Now that the Circumference is back in play, one has to wonder: are the sisters meant to battle over control of something inside that center symbol? Wouldn’t it therefore represent the Circumference? Clearly there’s a lot left to explain, but there’s a sense that the writers are actually taking all the pieces of the puzzle and trying to make them fit in a semi-logical fashion. It’s a long way from the confusion offered at the end of the third season!

The performances were strong throughout the entire episode, but Ron Rifkin especially gave Sloane and his complex psychology an amazing degree of expression. Through much of the third season, Rifkin wasn’t given much to do as Sloane, if only because his character wasn’t in the right place for true character development. This episode alone gives the kind of depth to Sloane that nine seasons of development didn’t provide for Cancer Man on “X-Files”. Sloane is shown as a man in deep conflict. He believes in Rambaldi, he wants Rambaldi’s works to be brought forth…and yet, he loves his daughter more.

In that, Sloane and Jack may have far more in common than the audience might have imagined. Of course, Jack doesn’t have the same obsession with Rambaldi that Sloane has savored (as far as revealed to date), and Sloane has not spent a lifetime trying to keep Nadia safe from harm. But both men have been moving closer to a middle ground, and at times, it’s hard to tell them apart. This never ceases to be fascinating, given the morally grey territory that the characters reside within, where only very slight differences can mean everything.

This is the kind of compelling drama that the audience has been expecting of “Alias” since the beginning of the season, but until recently, it hasn’t been seen with any consistency. Ever since “Echoes”, however, the consistency of the writing has improved and the plot threads have been gathering momentum. With six episodes of the season still remaining, there’s a lot of ground left to cover. Jack’s psychology seems to be the next fertile ground to undergo exploration, and by all indications, a more satisfying answer to the cliffhanger at the end of the third season might finally be in the cards. If the writing is of the same caliber as this episode, then there’s little doubt that the answers will be satisfying.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode continues the recent trend of excellent episodes, easily matching the best episodes of the season. The exploration of Sloane’s complicated psychology is welcome indeed, and it’s interesting to see Ron Rifkin portray the subtle changes in his demeanor over the course of the episode. The Rambaldi mythology gets a few tantalizing additions, and the hints regarding the rest of the season are very promising.

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

Final Rating: 9/10

Season Average (as of 4.16): 7.6