Roswell 2.17: "Cry Your Name"
Written by Ron Moore
Directed by Allan Kroeker
In which Alex is found dead after a traffic accident and all the evidence points to suicide, but when Liz refuses to believe it, her personal investigation creates unrest among friends…
Status Report
This is the kind of episode that works on several levels, tossing the series into a completely unexpected direction. While the plot would take the character back into the midst of Antar-related insanity, this particular episode is rooted in the realities of the teen experience. It goes without saying that those in the audience with personal experience with the loss of a classmate will find resonance with one or more of the characters; it’s a credit to the writers and actors that the emotions depicted are so clearly communicated.
This particular plot twist was born of two “real world” situations. With the fate of the series all but certain, after yet another reversal by the network, Colin Hanks used his personal business savvy and got a release from his contract. As such, one way or another, Alex was leaving, and the writers had to deal with it. They could have shuffled him off to Sweden again, on the premise that he was torn between Isabel and Leeana, but the producers were also under the impression that the second season was the end of the series. Killing off Alex would help raise the stakes for the final plot arc.
The writing staff came up with the idea fairly early, so the seeds were planted in the episodes as conceived or retooled after the extension of the season was announced. “A Roswell Christmas Carol” was designed to show how far Max is willing to go for a stranger, how deeply his guilt can cut him to the bone, so that his reaction in this episode would make perfect sense. Alex’s comment about aliens killing him in “How the Other Half Lives” was clearly foreshadowing.
By the end of “The Hybrid Chronicles”, the hybrids themselves seemed to come to terms with their Antar legacy. The whole question of destiny vs. free will had been addressed, and the characters were under the impression that they had prevailed. This final plot/character arc pulls that assumption out from under their feet. It’s not a question of whether a person is ruled by predetermined roles or expectations or free to choose their own path; like “nature” vs. “nurture”, it typically comes down to a combination of influences and instincts.
The relationship between Isabel and Alex places all of that into perspective. Isabel has always yearned for a normal life, and yet she was the last one willing to open up to the possibility of a real relationship with a human. That choice was essentially a rejection of the expectations of her Antar destiny, since her history as Vilandra suggested a betrayal (literal or metaphorical) of her brother. Choosing Alex (someone safe and already part of the group) allowed her to appease her brother while also defying the “programming” that was meant to drive her to Michael.
As “The Departure” would eventually reveal, Tess killed Alex after he broke through the mindwarp that concealed the truth about his “trip to Sweden”. The timing of this breakdown is intriguing. It doesn’t seem to have been threatened when Alex was keeping his distance from Isabel, but some time has passed and Alex is now more emotionally involved. The false memories are now conflicting with the fact that he wants to remember, on some level, because it would be important to Isabel.
In the final reveal, Tess is shown to have killed Alex when he confronts her about the truth, and Kyle is forced to help stage the accident to make it look like a suicide. This certainly allows the writers to cast Tess in the role of intentional villain, but it’s not as subtle as it could have been. How much better would it have been if Alex had really committed suicide, all because of the lingering effects of Tess’ months-long mindwarping?
Whatever the case, it’s appropriate for Valenti to come upon the scene and then deliver the shocking news. He lost everything to protect the teens from outside threats, and now he must face the fact that he can’t protect them from themselves or each other. Throughout the episode, for some odd reason, Valenti is almost shown as being in charge, despite the fact that he’s not the sheriff and Hansen has every reason to assert his own authority. One could assume that Hansen is giving Valenti a measure of respect under the circumstances, but it also feels like the writers are trying to have their cake and eat it too.
The news is a shock, but given their history, it’s not surprising that they immediately assume that Max can go and bring Alex back to life. A few things are readily apparent from this scene. First, the rest of the gang has become just as comfortable with treating Max like he can handle anything as Max himself. They completely miss the fact that his inability to bring Alex back, mixed with his own fears and uncertainties about even touching Alex’s body, is tearing Max apart.
Everyone begins dealing with the loss in their own way, but the real shock is how cruelly analytical Liz becomes. It’s close to what one would expect given her personality, but the harsh anger that fuels her desire for some kind of deeper explanation polarizes her reactions to those around her. That anger comes out very quickly when she seems to snap at Max for failing to bring Alex back. Part of it is a reaction to Tess, but it’s also bitterness.
The initial scene between Jim and Kyle seems somewhat out of place in this episode, but in retrospect, it’s clear that the writers had worked out an outline and knew that Kyle should be reacting with a certain numbness and detachment, thanks to Tess’ recent mindwarp. It’s covered by the fact that Kyle seems to be reacting to the fact that the news about Alex happens just before his birthday, but at the time, it felt a little off.
Isabel ends up dreaming about how she wished things could have been had Alex survived, and at least part of her pain is a sense of guilt over how much time she wasted stringing Alex along. This is a guilt that will take a long time to resolve, because in essence, Alex is vulnerable because he becomes so extraneous to the gang that they don’t realize that Tess has gotten her hooks into him. Had Alex been with Isabel, it’s unlikely that Tess would have taken the chance.
Michael, on the other hand, slips into “trusted and loyal” mode, showing exactly how far he’s come since the beginning of the series. Instead of dismissing Alex’s death as a casualty of war, like he would have at the beginning of the season, his concerns are solely for Maria and her mother. In contrast, Sean shows an amazing degree of self-involvement by not even talking to his family about the loss; it’s not hard to look back on Max as a far more appealing match for Liz.
But then, Sean is more interested in checking in on Liz, it seems, because when Max calls, Liz’s mother is expecting New Guy, not Old Guy. But it serves to remind the audience that these teenagers did, in fact, have parents, even if those parents still seem to have issues regarding parenting. There’s absolutely no reasonable explanation for Liz’s parents not to know where she is when she’s clearly in emotional distress.
If Shiri looked radiant in the previous episode, she’s equally compelling in her bitter determination. She seems to lock into her scientific mode a bit too thoroughly, to the point of inspecting blood stains and car wreckage with an air of clinical detachment that some characters on “CSI” would find hard to match. On the one hand, this serves the purpose of allowing one character to uncover evidence while remaining true to form. On the other hand, it reveals a side of Liz that’s hard to love.
The central conflict underlying the episode comes into play when Valenti’s attempt to figure out what happened to Alex begins leading towards an apparent suicide scenario. When Maria is shocked and sickened by Liz and her clinical ways, it speaks to the extremity of Liz’s reaction; still, Liz insists that there’s more to the story. Hansen becomes just as convinced in the suicide theory. Needless to say, when Liz catches wind of it, she’s not amused; she basically takes it as a form of betrayal.
If Michael’s protection of Maria is reminiscent of his role in his former life on Antar, then Isabel’s decision to run away and seemingly abandon her brother sets her in a position not unlike Vilandra. This is where the writers begin to sneak in the concept that some components of destiny are not nearly as obvious as others, especially when psychological aspects are involved. Isabel’s decision to graduate early and leave Roswell is more about her need to run from her own life than betraying everyone else, but it amounts to the same result.
Liz confronts Valenti with the photo that she found in the wreckage, but as presented, it’s more suggestive of Hansen’s conclusion than the one she would prefer. Given where the episode ends up taking the argument, it’s interesting to note that Valenti is the first one to be convinced that Alex killed himself. It’s not initially human vs. hybrid, and it’s not until Max is forced into a position of considering both sides of the argument that he becomes a focus of Liz’s rage.
Max is actually placed in an impossible situation. Liz had come to the conclusion that she and Max need to make a clean break, and yet when things get tough, he’s the first person she runs to for support. Under the circumstances, Max has very little choice but to take on a leadership role. What he doesn’t see is that Liz is trying to use him as a weapon, and it never really occurs to her that Max might draw a difference conclusion from the evidence.
The short but very sweet scene between Michael and Amy drives home the fact that Michael has embraced his relationship with Maria to a completely new level. It also serves the same purpose that the Max/Liz scenes serve: setting these characters up for one hell of a conflict for the rest of the season. But Michael and Maria need to remain closer than the other characters, so it makes sense that the ties would be more tightly bound at this point in the narrative.
The most tragic part of Isabel’s dream is that her thoughts about Alex and how his involvement in her life killed him reflect similar thoughts on the part of Max and Michael. But ultimately, that’s not how it happened. Several times, Max and the others warned Liz and her friends to keep their distance. They initially did everything possible to keep Alex out of the loop. Alex insisted on knowing the real story, especially when he was brought in (at Liz and Maria’s urging) to help Max. Isabel wasn’t the one responsible for getting Alex involved; she was, of course, responsible for not taking him seriously.
Alex’s funeral is about as hard to watch as one would expect, especially since Majandra throws so much genuine emotion into her rendition of “Amazing Grace”. It makes the subsequent confrontation between Max and Valenti that much more realistic, and Max’s profound disappointment that much more crushing. When this is followed by a scene with Liz, resolutely ignoring Mr. Whitman’s feelings by asking to visit Alex’s room, it’s clear where the writers are going.
Liz finds the concert tickets and immediately seizes upon them as evidence backing her position. Of course, that’s not necessarily the case. Plenty of people with suicidal tendencies fall into that kind of “double life”, where most of the time they live life as though everything is fine and the future is bright, but a darker personality sometimes manifests. The writers have Tess toss out the objection to Liz’s theory for plot purposes, but it actually doesn’t stand up on its own regardless.
But Liz takes it another step, far from logical based on the evidence, by claiming that Alex was murdered. Granted, this is exactly what ends up being the truth, but there’s nothing at all in the episode before this point to suggest such a conclusion. It’s not that Liz is wrong in suggesting that Alex is the first of many potential targets; her logic regarding the control the aliens from Antar can exert on humans is sound. She just doesn’t present it as a possible threat to everyone; she makes it very much a question of “us” vs. “them”.
Liz completely crosses the line when she chooses to hold Max responsible for just the possibility that Alex died as a result of alien intrigue. This is where Isabel’s false sense of responsibility comes into play for everyone involved. Liz has no right to blame Max for anything that has happened, because one way or another, Max didn’t make the choice to be in Roswell. Any action taken by Kivar victimizes Max as much as the humans of Earth. More than that, Max cannot be held responsible for not stopping a murderous plot that he doesn’t even know about.
Some are surprised when Michael walks out so abruptly, but looking at it from his point of view, he and his people were just accused of murdering (or allowing the murder of) a friend. Maria didn’t exactly present any objections, and in a way, his efforts to comfort are being tossed back in his face. Feeling are hurt and loyalties are on the line, and Michael is nothing if not loyal to Max when the chips are down. In other words, Michael’s decision to leave with Max is right in line with his “destined” role, whether intended or not.
The montage at the end of the episode is extremely well done, especially the cuts between Alex’s past scenes and Liz’s reaction to his death. If there were no plot-driven requirements to this final scene, Liz’s emotional breakdown would have been the perfect place to end it, because this is really the first time she allows herself to grieve. By tacking on the plot twist at the end, justifying her side of the argument, the writers serve the plot by stealing away some of the emotional power of the story. Fading to black on Liz, in tears, would have been a more fitting choice.
Then again, when it comes to an episode like this, minor creative choices are almost moot. Ron Moore makes up for the lack of resolution in “How the Other Half Lives” by delivering a tight script with more emotional impact than any other episode this season (with the possible exception of “A Roswell Christmas Carol”). There’s only one relatively minor plot contrivance, when Liz makes the leap from accident to murder with nothing in between, but there is a justification for it in the end. As would soon become apparent, the material through the rest of the season was strong, even if the network did everything possible to derail the effort.
Memorable Quotes
MAX: “You can’t compare ‘The Matrix’ to ‘Crouching Tiger’!”
MICHAEL: “’Crapping Tiger’ is a chick flick with kung-fu.”
MAX: “First of all, ‘Crappi-‘…’Crouching Tiger’ is actually about something…love, honor, trust.”
MICHAEL: “’Matrix’ is about something: illusion, reality…gunfire…”
MAX: “You simply can’t prefer Keanu Reaves to Michelle Yeoh. You can’t. (Pause.) I won’t let you.”
AMY: “As far as I’m concerned, you’ll always be welcome in this house.”
MICHAEL: “Thank you.”
AMY: “Welcome on the couch.”
MICHAEL: “Right.”
AMY: “Yeah.”
ISABEL: “I love you, Alex.”
ALEX: “I think we both know…I loved you, too.”
Final Analysis
Overall, this episode is one of the most emotionally charged of the season, if not the series. All of the character reactions are perfectly in line with their established psychology, and that makes the conflict that arises in the end easier to reconcile. Liz makes a logical leap at the end that isn’t supposed well by the episode as presented, but it’s easily forgiven, considering how well the rest of the episode comes together.
Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 3/4
Final Rating: 9/10
Directed by Allan Kroeker
In which Alex is found dead after a traffic accident and all the evidence points to suicide, but when Liz refuses to believe it, her personal investigation creates unrest among friends…
Status Report
This is the kind of episode that works on several levels, tossing the series into a completely unexpected direction. While the plot would take the character back into the midst of Antar-related insanity, this particular episode is rooted in the realities of the teen experience. It goes without saying that those in the audience with personal experience with the loss of a classmate will find resonance with one or more of the characters; it’s a credit to the writers and actors that the emotions depicted are so clearly communicated.
This particular plot twist was born of two “real world” situations. With the fate of the series all but certain, after yet another reversal by the network, Colin Hanks used his personal business savvy and got a release from his contract. As such, one way or another, Alex was leaving, and the writers had to deal with it. They could have shuffled him off to Sweden again, on the premise that he was torn between Isabel and Leeana, but the producers were also under the impression that the second season was the end of the series. Killing off Alex would help raise the stakes for the final plot arc.
The writing staff came up with the idea fairly early, so the seeds were planted in the episodes as conceived or retooled after the extension of the season was announced. “A Roswell Christmas Carol” was designed to show how far Max is willing to go for a stranger, how deeply his guilt can cut him to the bone, so that his reaction in this episode would make perfect sense. Alex’s comment about aliens killing him in “How the Other Half Lives” was clearly foreshadowing.
By the end of “The Hybrid Chronicles”, the hybrids themselves seemed to come to terms with their Antar legacy. The whole question of destiny vs. free will had been addressed, and the characters were under the impression that they had prevailed. This final plot/character arc pulls that assumption out from under their feet. It’s not a question of whether a person is ruled by predetermined roles or expectations or free to choose their own path; like “nature” vs. “nurture”, it typically comes down to a combination of influences and instincts.
The relationship between Isabel and Alex places all of that into perspective. Isabel has always yearned for a normal life, and yet she was the last one willing to open up to the possibility of a real relationship with a human. That choice was essentially a rejection of the expectations of her Antar destiny, since her history as Vilandra suggested a betrayal (literal or metaphorical) of her brother. Choosing Alex (someone safe and already part of the group) allowed her to appease her brother while also defying the “programming” that was meant to drive her to Michael.
As “The Departure” would eventually reveal, Tess killed Alex after he broke through the mindwarp that concealed the truth about his “trip to Sweden”. The timing of this breakdown is intriguing. It doesn’t seem to have been threatened when Alex was keeping his distance from Isabel, but some time has passed and Alex is now more emotionally involved. The false memories are now conflicting with the fact that he wants to remember, on some level, because it would be important to Isabel.
In the final reveal, Tess is shown to have killed Alex when he confronts her about the truth, and Kyle is forced to help stage the accident to make it look like a suicide. This certainly allows the writers to cast Tess in the role of intentional villain, but it’s not as subtle as it could have been. How much better would it have been if Alex had really committed suicide, all because of the lingering effects of Tess’ months-long mindwarping?
Whatever the case, it’s appropriate for Valenti to come upon the scene and then deliver the shocking news. He lost everything to protect the teens from outside threats, and now he must face the fact that he can’t protect them from themselves or each other. Throughout the episode, for some odd reason, Valenti is almost shown as being in charge, despite the fact that he’s not the sheriff and Hansen has every reason to assert his own authority. One could assume that Hansen is giving Valenti a measure of respect under the circumstances, but it also feels like the writers are trying to have their cake and eat it too.
The news is a shock, but given their history, it’s not surprising that they immediately assume that Max can go and bring Alex back to life. A few things are readily apparent from this scene. First, the rest of the gang has become just as comfortable with treating Max like he can handle anything as Max himself. They completely miss the fact that his inability to bring Alex back, mixed with his own fears and uncertainties about even touching Alex’s body, is tearing Max apart.
Everyone begins dealing with the loss in their own way, but the real shock is how cruelly analytical Liz becomes. It’s close to what one would expect given her personality, but the harsh anger that fuels her desire for some kind of deeper explanation polarizes her reactions to those around her. That anger comes out very quickly when she seems to snap at Max for failing to bring Alex back. Part of it is a reaction to Tess, but it’s also bitterness.
The initial scene between Jim and Kyle seems somewhat out of place in this episode, but in retrospect, it’s clear that the writers had worked out an outline and knew that Kyle should be reacting with a certain numbness and detachment, thanks to Tess’ recent mindwarp. It’s covered by the fact that Kyle seems to be reacting to the fact that the news about Alex happens just before his birthday, but at the time, it felt a little off.
Isabel ends up dreaming about how she wished things could have been had Alex survived, and at least part of her pain is a sense of guilt over how much time she wasted stringing Alex along. This is a guilt that will take a long time to resolve, because in essence, Alex is vulnerable because he becomes so extraneous to the gang that they don’t realize that Tess has gotten her hooks into him. Had Alex been with Isabel, it’s unlikely that Tess would have taken the chance.
Michael, on the other hand, slips into “trusted and loyal” mode, showing exactly how far he’s come since the beginning of the series. Instead of dismissing Alex’s death as a casualty of war, like he would have at the beginning of the season, his concerns are solely for Maria and her mother. In contrast, Sean shows an amazing degree of self-involvement by not even talking to his family about the loss; it’s not hard to look back on Max as a far more appealing match for Liz.
But then, Sean is more interested in checking in on Liz, it seems, because when Max calls, Liz’s mother is expecting New Guy, not Old Guy. But it serves to remind the audience that these teenagers did, in fact, have parents, even if those parents still seem to have issues regarding parenting. There’s absolutely no reasonable explanation for Liz’s parents not to know where she is when she’s clearly in emotional distress.
If Shiri looked radiant in the previous episode, she’s equally compelling in her bitter determination. She seems to lock into her scientific mode a bit too thoroughly, to the point of inspecting blood stains and car wreckage with an air of clinical detachment that some characters on “CSI” would find hard to match. On the one hand, this serves the purpose of allowing one character to uncover evidence while remaining true to form. On the other hand, it reveals a side of Liz that’s hard to love.
The central conflict underlying the episode comes into play when Valenti’s attempt to figure out what happened to Alex begins leading towards an apparent suicide scenario. When Maria is shocked and sickened by Liz and her clinical ways, it speaks to the extremity of Liz’s reaction; still, Liz insists that there’s more to the story. Hansen becomes just as convinced in the suicide theory. Needless to say, when Liz catches wind of it, she’s not amused; she basically takes it as a form of betrayal.
If Michael’s protection of Maria is reminiscent of his role in his former life on Antar, then Isabel’s decision to run away and seemingly abandon her brother sets her in a position not unlike Vilandra. This is where the writers begin to sneak in the concept that some components of destiny are not nearly as obvious as others, especially when psychological aspects are involved. Isabel’s decision to graduate early and leave Roswell is more about her need to run from her own life than betraying everyone else, but it amounts to the same result.
Liz confronts Valenti with the photo that she found in the wreckage, but as presented, it’s more suggestive of Hansen’s conclusion than the one she would prefer. Given where the episode ends up taking the argument, it’s interesting to note that Valenti is the first one to be convinced that Alex killed himself. It’s not initially human vs. hybrid, and it’s not until Max is forced into a position of considering both sides of the argument that he becomes a focus of Liz’s rage.
Max is actually placed in an impossible situation. Liz had come to the conclusion that she and Max need to make a clean break, and yet when things get tough, he’s the first person she runs to for support. Under the circumstances, Max has very little choice but to take on a leadership role. What he doesn’t see is that Liz is trying to use him as a weapon, and it never really occurs to her that Max might draw a difference conclusion from the evidence.
The short but very sweet scene between Michael and Amy drives home the fact that Michael has embraced his relationship with Maria to a completely new level. It also serves the same purpose that the Max/Liz scenes serve: setting these characters up for one hell of a conflict for the rest of the season. But Michael and Maria need to remain closer than the other characters, so it makes sense that the ties would be more tightly bound at this point in the narrative.
The most tragic part of Isabel’s dream is that her thoughts about Alex and how his involvement in her life killed him reflect similar thoughts on the part of Max and Michael. But ultimately, that’s not how it happened. Several times, Max and the others warned Liz and her friends to keep their distance. They initially did everything possible to keep Alex out of the loop. Alex insisted on knowing the real story, especially when he was brought in (at Liz and Maria’s urging) to help Max. Isabel wasn’t the one responsible for getting Alex involved; she was, of course, responsible for not taking him seriously.
Alex’s funeral is about as hard to watch as one would expect, especially since Majandra throws so much genuine emotion into her rendition of “Amazing Grace”. It makes the subsequent confrontation between Max and Valenti that much more realistic, and Max’s profound disappointment that much more crushing. When this is followed by a scene with Liz, resolutely ignoring Mr. Whitman’s feelings by asking to visit Alex’s room, it’s clear where the writers are going.
Liz finds the concert tickets and immediately seizes upon them as evidence backing her position. Of course, that’s not necessarily the case. Plenty of people with suicidal tendencies fall into that kind of “double life”, where most of the time they live life as though everything is fine and the future is bright, but a darker personality sometimes manifests. The writers have Tess toss out the objection to Liz’s theory for plot purposes, but it actually doesn’t stand up on its own regardless.
But Liz takes it another step, far from logical based on the evidence, by claiming that Alex was murdered. Granted, this is exactly what ends up being the truth, but there’s nothing at all in the episode before this point to suggest such a conclusion. It’s not that Liz is wrong in suggesting that Alex is the first of many potential targets; her logic regarding the control the aliens from Antar can exert on humans is sound. She just doesn’t present it as a possible threat to everyone; she makes it very much a question of “us” vs. “them”.
Liz completely crosses the line when she chooses to hold Max responsible for just the possibility that Alex died as a result of alien intrigue. This is where Isabel’s false sense of responsibility comes into play for everyone involved. Liz has no right to blame Max for anything that has happened, because one way or another, Max didn’t make the choice to be in Roswell. Any action taken by Kivar victimizes Max as much as the humans of Earth. More than that, Max cannot be held responsible for not stopping a murderous plot that he doesn’t even know about.
Some are surprised when Michael walks out so abruptly, but looking at it from his point of view, he and his people were just accused of murdering (or allowing the murder of) a friend. Maria didn’t exactly present any objections, and in a way, his efforts to comfort are being tossed back in his face. Feeling are hurt and loyalties are on the line, and Michael is nothing if not loyal to Max when the chips are down. In other words, Michael’s decision to leave with Max is right in line with his “destined” role, whether intended or not.
The montage at the end of the episode is extremely well done, especially the cuts between Alex’s past scenes and Liz’s reaction to his death. If there were no plot-driven requirements to this final scene, Liz’s emotional breakdown would have been the perfect place to end it, because this is really the first time she allows herself to grieve. By tacking on the plot twist at the end, justifying her side of the argument, the writers serve the plot by stealing away some of the emotional power of the story. Fading to black on Liz, in tears, would have been a more fitting choice.
Then again, when it comes to an episode like this, minor creative choices are almost moot. Ron Moore makes up for the lack of resolution in “How the Other Half Lives” by delivering a tight script with more emotional impact than any other episode this season (with the possible exception of “A Roswell Christmas Carol”). There’s only one relatively minor plot contrivance, when Liz makes the leap from accident to murder with nothing in between, but there is a justification for it in the end. As would soon become apparent, the material through the rest of the season was strong, even if the network did everything possible to derail the effort.
Memorable Quotes
MAX: “You can’t compare ‘The Matrix’ to ‘Crouching Tiger’!”
MICHAEL: “’Crapping Tiger’ is a chick flick with kung-fu.”
MAX: “First of all, ‘Crappi-‘…’Crouching Tiger’ is actually about something…love, honor, trust.”
MICHAEL: “’Matrix’ is about something: illusion, reality…gunfire…”
MAX: “You simply can’t prefer Keanu Reaves to Michelle Yeoh. You can’t. (Pause.) I won’t let you.”
AMY: “As far as I’m concerned, you’ll always be welcome in this house.”
MICHAEL: “Thank you.”
AMY: “Welcome on the couch.”
MICHAEL: “Right.”
AMY: “Yeah.”
ISABEL: “I love you, Alex.”
ALEX: “I think we both know…I loved you, too.”
Final Analysis
Overall, this episode is one of the most emotionally charged of the season, if not the series. All of the character reactions are perfectly in line with their established psychology, and that makes the conflict that arises in the end easier to reconcile. Liz makes a logical leap at the end that isn’t supposed well by the episode as presented, but it’s easily forgiven, considering how well the rest of the episode comes together.
Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 3/4
Final Rating: 9/10
posted by John Keegan | 16:53
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