Buffy 4.15: "This Year's Girl"

Written by Douglas Petrie
Directed by Michael Gershman

In which Faith awakens from her coma as Buffy and Riley begin preparing a response to Adam and his unknown agenda, and it doesn’t take her long to generate serious havoc…


Status Report

When this two-part episode was originally aired, one of the common criticisms was that it disrupted the flow of the Initiative plot thread by bringing back issues from the third season. But it doesn’t take much to recognize that the return of Faith serves a distinct purpose. Faith was meant to be Buffy’s dark reflection: Buffy as she would have been without the support system she had managed to gain for herself. The fourth season has given Buffy plenty of reason to question her own assumptions about her world and her place in it; thus Faith’s return provides the means to point out what Buffy has lost sight of in her own life.

Being with Riley has presented Buffy with the kind of focus that was missing from her life earlier in the season. Like most of the other relationships among the Scoobies, this has resulted in the slow but steady isolation from others in her life. In many respects, Buffy has taken all of the things that made her more emotionally balanced than Faith and shoved them away. That’s fairly normal for young adults of the college age, but in Buffy’s case, the effect is somewhat more profound.

The teaser begins as a dream sequence which strongly suggests that Buffy and Faith retain some level of psychic connection. Immediately the theme is reinforced: Faith feels like Buffy forgot about her, and in a sense, abandoned her to her condition. Faith’s expectations aren’t exactly sane, but Faith is on the brink of a major breakdown. That doesn’t mean that Faith is wrong. Symbolically, “forgetting Faith” means that Buffy has forgotten the lessons about life that Faith’s example provided.

Perhaps more importantly, Joss inserts one of his many examples of foreshadowing for the fifth season. Faith and Buffy both talk about the impending arrival of “little sister”. This is, of course, a reference to Dawn and her impact on Buffy’s life. Dawn’s arrival brings about Buffy’s foretold death, which in and of itself is part of a process that results in the transformation of the Chosen One into the Chosen Army. Since Faith must metaphorically die as well for that to happen, so she can be reborn as Buffy’s ally, it makes sense that the two Slayers would be bound by a common future.

Meanwhile, Buffy is focused entirely upon facing Adam. Xander tries his hardest to contribute, but when he’s hurt, his pain is unnoticed. Giles tries to be a mentor, but Buffy follows her own counsel. Willow is still left to provide friendly support, but there’s a sense that Willow is the background noise to Buffy’s continuing dialogue of worry about Riley. Indeed, despite the obsession about Adam, Buffy’s entire world is focused on Riley.

Similarly, having found his world torn apart and tossed inside out, Riley is focused only on Buffy and the stability she represents. His friendships with Forrest and Graham are secondary, and in effect, that weakens the utility of the Initiative in the wake of so much tragedy. Riley could be focusing on the threat and helping the others see reason. Instead, blinded by his own grief and confusion, he complicates the situation and makes it easier for Adam later in the season.

Meanwhile, Faith’s internal fantasy world churns on, in which the Mayor is a charming father figure with little or no responsibility for his own diabolical choices. Buffy is a violent destroyer of dreams, dedicated to killing what little Faith has gained in her life. Perhaps even more importantly, Faith has convinced herself that she’s innocent of any moral culpability for her actions. In her mind, Buffy disrupted the proper order of things, in which Faith gets everything she wants.

Buffy discovers that Adam has been studying human and now demon biology. This was still the point at which Adam’s motivations were undefined, so the emphasis placed on this is somewhat out of proportion with the overall arc. Despite this revelation, Buffy’s main goal is rescuing Riley from the Initiative, rather than trying to get the Initiative to work with her in defeating Adam. When Riley reveals his departure from the Initiative, both he and Buffy conclude that together, they can do anything. That relationship is so strongly reinforced that it’s clear where the story is going: Riley, like Angel before him, represents the center of Buffy’s world.

The final dream sequence is supposed to symbolize the fact that Faith kills the version of Buffy hunting and hounding her inside her head, which gives Faith the ability to focus her energy on waking up. She picks up where she left off, but when it’s clear that time has passed and her “father” is dead and gone, her focus is on getting away and gaining payback.

Buffy and Riley are finally placed on something of a level playing field. Like Buffy, Riley was meant to be a soldier taking orders. Buffy came to the conclusion that the Watchers’ Council was corrupt and manipulative; Riley was forced to see that the Initiative was using him for all the wrong reasons. And like Buffy, Riley is now forced to figure out what to do with a life where all the basic rules have changed. Where Buffy decided to break from the Council and fight on her own, Riley still has that choice to make.

If there’s one aspect of this episode that doesn’t quite come together as it should, it’s the logic behind calling in the Watchers. The idea is that Faith must be dealt with, and now that she’s awake, a team must be sent in. But why wait until Faith wakes up to take action, when it just gives her a chance to fight back? Why not kill her, allowing a new Slayer to be called? One explanation is that the Watchers blame Buffy and her allies for Faith, and as such, they don’t want a new Slayer to be called until Buffy’s influence is out of the picture. From their point of view, Buffy is unlikely to be around for much longer, so why not keep Faith alive but out of commission until a new Slayer is needed, since Buffy will do the dirty work for them?

While Buffy and the others discuss strategy, Faith stands outside, gaining knowledge of the new reality. It’s clear to Faith that Buffy has moved on from Angel to Riley, and that only makes Buffy’s “betrayal” that much worse. It’s a bit confusing that Buffy receives the news about Faith at Giles’ home; exactly who knew to call her there? But the point is that Faith gets to see Buffy’s reaction to her sudden revival, at least the part where everyone immediately wants to take her down. It doesn’t exactly give Faith a reason to consider the sane.

It’s not a good sign that Buffy told Riley the sanitized version of the story with Faith, because it gives Faith an opening. But Faith has plenty of ammunition as it is. Faith immediately hits Buffy where it hurts, pointing out that Buffy hasn’t learned a thing about herself since beating Faith at her own game. Instead of coming to terms with the part of her that resonates with Faith, Buffy has rejected that side of her personality. Faith may have perspective issues, but she’s not entirely wrong.

Along the way, there’s more Willow/Tara bonding, which seems to be designed to highlight the woes of the wardrobe department. Way too often in this episode, the wardrobe seems to be cobbled together from the rejects of the local thrift store. Sure, some college students live on thrift store clothes, but not all of them! Especially someone like Buffy, who always wanted to walk a little on the wild side. Aside from the occasional pair of leathers, Buffy and her friends seem stuck in some bohemian fashion hell. It doesn’t help that the producers intentionally made sure Tara looked frumpy, right down to the badly applied lipstick. It makes Faith look all the more hotness in her skintight vinyl!

The scene also shows how far Willow has come. Once upon a time, Willow was Tara, the one with the sense of awe at the thought of combating evil and hanging out with the Slayer. Now she’s the wise and experienced fighter and magic user. How often did Willow look like she was “swimming”? It also gives them another reason to get close, which is another step on the fairly obvious road to the sex.

Giles and Xander continue with their odd partnership, borne earlier in the season when they were the odd men out, and demonstrate an unfortunate level of stupidity in the process. Giles has been rather foolish all season when it comes to thinking of Spike as a vampire in reform; he, of all the Scoobies, should be the least inclined to harbor such false hopes. Spike’s response to Giles and Xander is absolutely hilarious, if only because they should have seen it coming. (One could claim that this reveals some of the aimless bad writing of the fourth season, based on the poor logic involved, but it’s a minor quibble of the episode.)

It’s fascinating to watch how completely the Mayor manipulates Faith so long after the fact. Sure, for her, it’s been a matter of hours or days since they were both looking at a bright future. But he’s damned good at making her believe that her options were tied to his fortunes, and that without him, she’s looking at a very short life span. Giving her the device, it seems, was a failsafe; was the whole speech meant to convince her that escaping into another life might be the only way to escape her past? Having her actually seek redemption, after all, would require them to believe that what she had done was wrong.

Faith does the somewhat predictable thing and takes the one step necessary to draw Buffy out: she takes her mother hostage and waits for Buffy to work it out. That gives Faith a chance to really display her lack of self-awareness. Joyce, long since dismissed out of Buffy’s complicated life, does a good job of hiding the fact that Faith hits on some uncomfortable truths. The most compelling madness is rooted within some consistently twisted perception of reality, after all.

The fight through the Summers home is one of the more brutal fight scenes of the season, punctuated by the deeply rooted hatred driving both Buffy and Faith to beat down the other. The “Freaky Friday” effect of the Mayor’s device is a bit cliché, but considering the theme for the season, it actually brings Buffy’s tribulations to something of a logical head: she is now literally not herself.

This is also the beginning of the end for Faith. In a flash, she has everything she ever wanted from Buffy; she has the life that she always thought Buffy had squandered. While Buffy struggles to regain her identity (partially satisfying the metaphorical side of the season arc), Faith begins to recognize that she cannot escape herself. That brings her own character’s arc to a low point, as she seeks self-destruction on “Angel”.

As the first part of a two-part story, much of what happens in this episode is setting up the character conflicts and the probable consequences. Buffy doesn’t ask for Faith to switch bodies with her or come gunning for her loved ones, but her lack of attention to anyone but Riley and her dishonesty towards him open the door for what Faith does in the second half. While the writers are forced to walk a fine line between having the characters work together to solve problems while also growing apart, this episode focuses so much on Faith, Buffy, and Riley that these issues are more obvious.

But at this point in the season, the writers were openly admitting that the conflicting demands of the season’s theme, in concert with a Big Bad that was developed in a haphazard fashion. So it’s not a question of whether or not there are issues. By now, it was a question of making the best out of a flawed situation. Bringing back Faith for a couple episodes was a good move, based on her popularity, and it helps to explore the season’s theme. In this particular case, the episode’s strengths outweigh the underlying weaknesses.


Memorable Quotes

FORREST: “The shish kabob that walks like a man!”

XANDER: “Will hiding in a cavern with stockpiled chocolate goods be any part of this plan?”
BUFFY: “No.”
XANDER: “Told you…”

XANDER: “I’d hate to see the pursuit of a homicidal maniac get in the way of pursuing a homicidal maniac…”

WILLOW: “Ooo…I have an idea! Beat the crap out of her!”

BUFFY: “I’m telling ya, if I were her, I’d get outta Dodge post-hasty.”
FAITH: “But you’re not me…”

TARA: “I’m not so good with the…”
WILLOW: “Swimming?”

TARA: “Five by five? Five what by five what?”
WILLOW: “See, that’s the thing…no one knows!”

SPIKE: “Can’t any one of your damn little Scooby club at least try to remember I hate you all?”

XANDER: “We’re dumb.”

FAITH: “How do I look?”
JOYCE: “Psychotic.”
FAITH: “Hmm…I was shooting for sultry, but hey…”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode took the season’s theme of self-identity and built on them by using the previous season’s themes as a strong foundation. Bringing back Faith was a good idea, if only to help make up for some of the uncertainty in the rest of the season arc. The writers do a convincing job of giving Buffy reasons for making the mistakes that cost her in this episode, and that provides a good lead into the second half of the story.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

X-Files 5.5: "The Post-Modern Prometheus"

Written by Chris Carter
Directed by Chris Carter

In which the classic tale of Mulder and Scully’s encounter with a mad scientist’s “monster” and a town’s obsession with disingenuous celebrity is told…


Status Report

At several points in the series’ run, the producers would come up with an episode concept that would step outside of the normal canon and present a more “mythological” context. Episodes like “War of the Coprophages” and “Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man” work far better when viewed as apocryphal: stories and tales told of iconic characters and people that have become part of some future legendarium.

In this case, it’s as if some measure of the story might have been true: a case in the middle of nowhere, involving a somewhat deformed child of genetic experiments gone awry, seeking to create through immoral means a mate. But the tone and style of the episode veer far from the realistic into the fanciful, casting the characters and situations into a classical fable mode. All in all, this is Chris Carter’s personal “thank you” to the fans and devotees that helped him take such concepts and turn them into an international sensation.

Like the aforementioned episodes, this is not an episode that lends itself to a linear breakdown; there are specific story elements that work better than others, but it’s not entirely necessary for the episode to hang together as a viable whole. Is it really worth getting into the plausibility of cross-breeding humans and animals in some attempt to create a monster bride? This is not Carter’s usual attempt to create “real monsters”. This is Carter’s version of Frankenstein, and he doesn’t bother trying to hide it.

The episode works all the better for it. When Carter attempted the Darin Morgan style of comedy in “Syzygy”, it fell far short. Indeed, Carter’s sense of comedy often descends into the harsh and needlessly cruel (“Fight Club” added layers of disturbing overtones to the Mulder/Scully dynamic, especially if one considers their medical state ala “Within”). But this is not so much a question of comedy as quirky, and Carter does a much better job with the weird.

Of course, Carter’s not Darin Morgan, and so the sensibilities of “Humbug” don’t come quite so easily. Carter’s version of a morality tale, steeped in the unusual and disturbing (and a little Cher), sometimes comes across as a bit too earnest. As many previous episodes had established, when Carter gets running with the overly prosaic monologues, they can get a bit ridiculous. There are moments where characters stop acting and sounding like themselves because Carter wants to drive him a point in poetic language or dump some relatively quick exposition. Thankfully, Carter sometimes understands this weakness; some of the scenes with Mulder and Scully are wonderfully self-aware.

If one takes the framing of the episode seriously, then this is Izzy’s version of the story, with the details changed and transformed to create this fantasy world that Carter gets to play in. That works well from a conceptual level, because one gets to wonder whether any of it really happened. The inclusion of Jerry Springer Show commentary is also an interesting angle on society and how the unusual or monstrous can easily become cause for celebrity. The use of the circus tent motif is not accidental.

It’s not at all surprising to hear that Mulder has been cited by guests of the Jerry Springer Show; indeed, the Syndicate Elders must slap each other on the back every time his name comes up! Like “Fallen Angel” in the first season, where it’s revealed that Mulder’s activities have become legendary within the fringe elements of the abductee community, Mulder becomes an icon for those seeking validation of their freakshow fantasies. Those living in quiet desperation seek the immediacy and “fame” that Jerry Springer once represented, and Mulder is seen as a conduit for an entire town to live out that “dream”, monster or not.

Lest this concept be missed by the audience, Scully gets to prattle on about it in atypically florid language. The irony is that Scully is the wrong person to be discussing psychological motivations. That’s probably part of why Mulder looks so damned amused throughout the entire monologue. Scully touches on the fears of the unknown, transference of negative emotions, and self-aggrandizement, and yet she might as well be staring at the screen and telling the audience to remember these topics because they’ll be on the quiz. Without the self-awareness of the scene, it would be ridiculously bad.

The introduction to Dr. Pollidori is a thing of beauty. Carter frames each scene as if it were an old issue of “Tales from the Crypt”, and it couldn’t be more appropriate. The content of the scene is really quite secondary to the style of it all; one can get the gist of the dialogue simply by following the composition of the each scene. It’s inspired filmmaking, made even better by the underlying sense of knowing humor saturating every moment. Even Pollidori wants those 15 minutes of fame, despite his desire for professional recognition.

As long as the town believes that Mulder can get them fame and perceived fortune, they treat him like a king. He is, for all intent purposes, the validation they need to achieve their pathetic dreams. Mulder himself becomes as much as symbol as the “monster” himself. He could literally be anyone and still be treated exactly the same. It’s very amusing, especially since it’s all so blatantly phoney.

The Great Mutato’s scene at the Pollidori home is easily one of the most surreal moments of the series. It stands as a perfect example of the particular flavor of this episode. It’s just about impossible not to watch in confusion and wonder at the melding of imagery and sound. It’s hard to imagine enjoying a scene that consists of a deformed man singing along with Cher in a house filled with anesthetic gas, but to Carter’s credit, it works beautifully.

Following a rather confusing and pretentious bit of commentary by Mulder (“Post-Modern Prometheus”, indeed), the agents run headlong into the middle of a gas cloud that could easily have killed them both in record time. It’s hard to imagine that Scully would do such a thing on her own, so it’s in deference to the needs of the story. Scully comes to the conclusion that the whole thing is a hoax, of course, and so that is what gets spread around. Whether Mulder agrees or not is incidental.

The barrier between the surreal fantasy world and stark reality begins breaking down when Pollidori kills his own father. The hope of fame and fortune falls apart, and scapegoats are suddenly needed to justify that emotional loss. Mulder becomes a symbol of a hostile and disapproving “outside world”, while the community centers its attention on finding the one behind the sexual assaults. Any semi-romantic notion of some marauding monster, previously glossed over by the thought of celebrity, comes crashing down. Immediately, it’s a witch hunt.

The emotional counterpoint is present in Mutato’s slow and mournful burial of The Old Man, his caretaker. Where the community’s emotions are still overwhelmed by false and misdirected outrage, Mutato experiences true pain and suffering. The normal people reduce the world to simple absolutes, while the “monster” confronts and accepts the burdens of reality. It drives the moral of the story home in a very touching way, without ignoring the fact that Mutato was involved in a monstrous scheme.

Pollidori, of course, is acting to purge the evidence of his own sins, and thus his motives are false. The townspeople consider it better to destroy a symbol then face the truth (thank you, Dr. Scully). Mulder and Scully are left to figure out what the hell is really happening. Once Mutato is exposed and confronted, Pollidori’s accusations are wrapped in the same heavy-handed prose as the agents’ more perplexing moments. And yet when Mutato speaks in equally florid terms, it works to counter the symbolism that has been created by the madness of the crowd.

This being a riff on “Frankenstein”, Mulder is correct: the “monster” is supposed to survive to live on, in search of his bride. Being sent away for Mulder does nothing to fulfill that parallel. And so the fanciful aspects of the story come into play as Mulder breaks through the norms of narrative convention to ask the writer to make it as it should be. And so the audience is treated to something of a fantasy themselves.

Carter was still insistent at this point that Mulder and Scully remain romantically at arms’ length. The end of this episode is really a way for him to provide that moment of happiness between them that would otherwise remain hidden below the surface. There’s the satisfaction of giving the “monster” his face-to-face with Cher as well (Mutato’s cheering is beyond endearing).

But as often as that scene is cited as evidence of “the love”, it should be remembered that this scene is meant, like the episode, to stand on its own. It fits within the context of the phenomenon that the “X-Files” had become as a part of its own accumulated legend. Casting the story in black and white adds to that “apocryphal” perspective, allowing for a visual flair that is more than capable of overcoming the episode’s minor flaws.


Memorable Quotes

IZZY: “I’m 18…I go anywhere I want.”
SHAINEH: “Yeah, but where you gonna live when you get back?”

MULDER: “Scully, do you think it’s too soon to get my own 1-900 number?”

SCULLY: “Is there anything you don’t believe in, Mulder?”

GEEK BOY: “What do you want me to do with these, Dr. Pollidori?”
POLLIDORI: “Never mind…”

JJ: “That’s with two J’s!”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is a wonderful diversion from the canon, exploring some of the best aspects of the series’ concept while also providing commentary on a staple of 1990s culture. The black and white visuals add a fanciful flair to the entire hour, and while Carter’s peculiar prose sometimes gets a little pretentious, it’s also very self-aware. This is the kind of episode best enjoyed on its own, divorced from the typical expectations that come with the series.

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

Final Rating: 9/10

Roswell 2.20: "Off the Menu"

Written by Garrett Lerner and Russell Friend
Directed by Patrick Norris

In which an electrical surge makes Brody think he’s really Larek, and as a result, he holds several people hostage, including Max and Tess, demanding to know the truth…


Status Report

As mentioned in the review for the previous episode, the network made the assumption that the audience wouldn’t be able to remember details over a long period of time. In this case, it wasn’t something subtle that the audience would have to remember in context for more than a few months; it was something that was completely rehashed in the season finale. The inevitable question is whether or not the flawed and unnecessary rearrangement of the final episodes helped or harmed the narrative flow.

There’s no question that it disrupted the story in a number of ways. In retrospect, moving “Off the Menu” from its proper slot in the episode order (before “Heart of Mine”) to the spot between the last two episodes destroyed the strong lead-out from “Baby, It’s You”. The audience was prepared to see the possibility of the hybrids’ return to Antar play out, and instead, there was a flashback to a time almost completely forgotten, before Alex was killed and relationships altered. Since the episode itself wasn’t changed, beyond the quick and dirty intro with Maria, there was no way for the writers to tweak the episode to make it easier on the audience.

Frankly, the only thing that the episode contains that might be important comes at the very end, when Tess mindwarps Amy. This is later used to clue the other characters into the truth about Alex. But what’s the trade off? A number of things in this episode directly lead into the events of “Heart of Mine”, thus making the jump from the Vegas trip to the Prom a bit easier to understand. Moving this episode essentially threw off the narrative of the entire final arc, and all for something the network didn’t really need to have.

The treatment of the episode and its place in the schedule quickly leads one to the conclusion that it wasn’t entirely necessary in the first place. While the transition from “Viva Las Vegas” to “Heart of Mine” was somewhat abrupt, it wasn’t any worse than the pacing of the first several episodes of the season. The episode doesn’t really address the fate of Brody, either, despite the fact that this is the character’s final appearance on the series. Once pulled from the schedule, the network could have easily (and more appropriately) decided to take the two-hour version of “The Departure” and split it across two weeks; it would have represented a better use of existing material, without the negative impact of mixing up episodes out of context.

Very quickly, one becomes concerned about the quality of the episode; the teaser’s use of “virtual reality” doesn’t even begin to make technical sense. The writing staff has always admitted that the science fiction angle was supposed to be a veneer under which the true drama could operate, but that’s no excuse for blatant liberties. There’s no program on the planet that could give Brody that kind of specific and detailed response to literally a spattering of guidelines.

But as concepts go, this is an interesting one. The idea is that Larek taps into the “unused” portion of the human brain (a rather silly myth, based on a bad interpretation of old science), and in a certain sense, “downloads” himself into Brody’s brain so that he can properly interact as Larek in the human world. Brody’s approach is to use specific triggers through virtual reality to uncover the memories that are otherwise out of his “normal operating range”, perhaps based on dream imagery. Technical issues aside, this does much to explain how the whole “abduction” thing works.

Once Brody’s memories are mixed with the “downloaded” version of Larek, the story moves along in a highly contrived manner, all dependent on where the writers want the story to go. Very little follows logical progression; every shift in Brody’s approach can be explained away, but the same cannot be said of the other characters. For instance, why would Max use his powers to deflect that bullet, when Tess could have attempted to mindwarp Brody first?

If the doors to the UFO Center automatically locked upon the loss of power, then how do Amy, Maria, and Sean get in? There’s no sign of any difficulties in getting inside, and they surprise Brody, so he didn’t let them in. It’s all about getting those three into the hostage situation, and little to no thought is given to whether or not it makes sense in the process.

Similarly, it’s quickly established that Hanson is the new sheriff of Roswell, and that Valenti has no real authority anymore. In the real world, while Hanson might generally discuss the particulars of his new role with Valenti, if only to keep a good relationship with a “friend”, Valenti would have no authority to access equipment or resources of the Sheriff’s Department. That places Valenti’s role in this episode in a rather dubious position.

While Brody struggles with his memories, Maria’s cell phone goes off. While Maria comes up with a logical reason to answer the phone, she is far too obvious in her attempt to send Liz a secret message. In general, one should not emphasize a coded phrase when standing three feet from the insane lunatic with the gun! And if Brody had remembered his favorite sandwich, Maria would have been toast. (Convenient, then, how he forgets that little detail.)

Tess’ idea to use the mindwarp is a little late; it would have made much more sense if she had tried it before anyone else was pulled into the situation. Doing it in front of Amy and Sean is a huge risk, and in a way, no less a risk than Max simply tossing Brody across the room and taking his chances. So why doesn’t Max do that? It’s not like his hands need to be free to knock Brody silly, and frankly, he has no reason to think that Brody can be cured. In a lot of ways, the writers make it seem like Max lets the situation get out of hand.

One aspect that comes across as even more contrived in this shuffled episode order is Liz’s inability to understand Maria’s message. Setting aside how obvious Maria was, the writers establish Liz as having a far more direct intuition regarding subtle and even non-existent hints regarding Alex’s death. If Liz could make those leaps in logic, why can’t she pick up on Maria’s far more obvious message?

When Michael and Isabel break into the UFO Center, they don’t have the use of their powers. The assumption is that the trithium amplification generator wipes out their powers while they are within its range. However, that doesn’t quite match what was shown earlier in the episode, when the generator clearly emitted a wave that struck Max and Tess, thus temporarily limiting their powers. How this works is hard to understand: if the powers are based on optimization of human genetic potential, then the power itself cannot be removed; it only works if thought of as a temporary inability to access the energy used when the abilities are tapped (as per “The Balance”).

One of the better moments in the episode concerns Brody’s memories of Antar and the first time Xan and Ava met. This is when the whole idea of Larek “downloading” his own memories into Brody’s head becomes useful. It’s clear that Tess remembers that moment, and that it cuts her to the bone when Max says that it never happened. But in another sense, it causes a problem later in the episode, because the manner in which Larek’s memory is presented to Max doesn’t make sense.

Valenti’s conversation with Hanson, meant to ramp up the tension, only manages to expose the issues with Valenti’s post-termination characterization. Valenti is using resources that should be available for the department’s use during such a crisis; why does Hanson allow that to happen? At the very least, Valenti should be arrested for theft; when the truth comes out, he really ought to be charged with obstruction. Valenti and his status would remain, through the end of the season, horribly undefined.

This is compounded by the fact that Valenti sends a civilian into harm’s way. If anything were to happen to Liz, Valenti would be responsible for her fate. Valenti’s methods aren’t all that clever, and it certainly doesn’t help that Liz is so obvious when using the camera. And why wouldn’t someone clue in on the fact that the fryers wouldn’t work without power? That makes it way too easy for Brody to accuse Liz (which, of course, is the point).

Sean’s wound is used to add to the tension, but it’s treated inconsistently once it is in play. Max’s warning seems designed to place Liz at odds with him, since Sean’s life is nearly sacrificed in the process. But was that the only way to keep Sean from killing Brody? Did Max really think that Sean would kill someone? All it would have taken is a knife to the throat at best or a slash across the wrist at worst to get Brody to drop the gun, and that was the only goal. Considering how conveniently the wound is used, it comes across as another contrivance.

More drama is manufactured when a SWAT team is assembled in record time (despite the overall emergency), forcing Valenti to conspire against his old department. Sure enough, Michael and Isabel get to use their powers (suddenly working just fine) in a last-minute effort to shut the SWAT team out of the UFO Center.

Somehow, Max figures out that Brody’s brain was affected by the short-circuiting of the VR helmet, which means that the injury can be healed. Suddenly the characters begin thinking again, and Maria gets to have a talk with Brody about his daughter and the kind of man he’s supposed to be. This is another good scene that helps to remind the audience that there is something of continuity in play, despite all the shuffling of episodes. It still seems a bit odd that Brody would agree to the healing so quickly, but at this point, the writers have already asked for enough from the audience to make this a minor consideration.

Unfortunately, in the process of healing Brody, Max sees the memories that Brody previously mentioned. Those memories center on Max and Tess as Xan and Ava, and yet, the two are human in those memories. Human sensory experience dominates. Why would Larek have memories of Xan and Ava in human form? The simple answer is that they don’t; Tess, in the interests of getting Max to “remember” their love on Antar, must be using her mindwarp. So how did Tess know that her powers were restored, and when to trigger the mindwarp so Max would “see Larek’s memories”?

Somehow, while it’s clear to everyone that Amy needs to be mindwarped to keep her silent and happy, the same is not considered important for Sean. Is Liz and her promise of a date that compelling? And why would Sean later keep that promise? It’s a perfectly valid question, since Liz blows off Sean in the previous episode, set after these events. Once again, the shuffling of episodes makes a mess of character continuity.

Oddly enough, the episode ends with Brody and Maria closer than ever, or so it seems. But Brody’s function as a temptation for Maria, during Michael’s “lonesome soldier” phase, had long since passed. Why bring it back, even in the intended episode order? This could have been re-shot, at the very least, to give Brody an exit and an end to the “relationship”. Instead, it jarringly clashes with the later closeness between Michael and Maria.

Though the episode does make more sense out of Max’s decision to explore memories with Tess in “Heart of Mine”, the intention of giving the audience vital clues to the “key to everything” never seems to be fulfilled. Instead, the episode disrupts the proper narrative flow of the final episodes. The network should have filled this hour with the first half of the true season finale, instead of this contrived and sloppily plotted mess. The episode would have been bad enough with the proper scheduling; slapped into the schedule without consideration for the plot, the effect is far, far worse.


Memorable Quotes

BRODY: “I want these aliens out of my head!”
AMY: “Maybe it would be better if we left your aliens alone…”

LIZ: “That was weird.”
MICHAEL: “What was?”
LIZ: “Maria just hung up on me.”
MICHAEL: “Happens to me all the time.”

MARIA: “Liz is my best friend. We have our own language. She’ll understand. Trust me.”
LIZ: “The Galaxy Sub with Pepperjack…does that mean anything to you?”
ISABEL: “I don’t really listen to Maria when she’s talking. I’m probably the wrong person to ask.”
LIZ: “Michael?”
MICHAEL: “I don’t really listen either…”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is a major disappointment, filled with endless plot contrivances that make its improper place in the episode order even more damaging. While it does much to explain the events of “Heart of Mine”, it’s not enough to justify its existence. The cast does what it can with the material, but the network would have been better served running the full season finale instead of bothering with this error in judgment.

Writing: 0/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 1/2
Style: 0/4

Final Rating: 3/10

Angel 1.14: "I've Got You Under My Skin"

Written by David Greenwalt and Jeanine Renshaw
Directed by R.D. Price

In which Angel investigates the apparent demonic possession of a young boy, and the subsequent exorcism pushes Angel and Wesley into painful personal realizations…


Status Report

After an episode that felt more like a massively flawed ratings stunt than a natural progression of the season’s character arcs, the writers get back to business. Oddly enough, they choose a rather pedestrian topic to continue their sweeps period episode run: a knock-off of “The Exorcist”, which just about every supernatural series eventually tries to do. This has a few interesting twists to it, especially in terms of Wesley’s character development and final act, but it’s still not the most awe-inspiring episode in the first season.

The episode begins with a scene that almost suggests that the previous episode was inserted into the schedule out of nowhere; this could easily be the true follow-up to “Expecting”. Angel is back to hosting some “family” meal times, thus proving that his ability to connect with humans (even if just two of them) is improving. Wesley is still trying to demonstrate his worth, but not nearly as stridently as in the previous episode.

The point of the scene, however, comes when Angel slips and calls Wesley “Doyle”. This is an especially painful moment, because it immediately plays on the insecurities of the entire gang. Angel reveals the depth of his loss, Cordelia is reminded of everything she might have had, and Wesley suddenly has every reason to question Angel’s acknowledgment of his individual contribution. It’s rather clear, as the episode marches on, that this initial scene is meant to highlight Wesley’s insecurities and how far he will go to overcome them.

Angel’s reaction is to tighten his hold on the people under his care, because he still feels that Doyle’s death was his fault. He sees Cordy suffering like Doyle used to suffer, and he has to wonder at the point of it all. (It probably doesn’t help in later seasons, when he discovers that all this death and pain really was all about using him and his colleagues to bring about some diabolical plan!) This ultimately runs counter to Wesley’s desire to prove himself.

By the time that Angel saves Ryan from his apparent doom, the writers have established that something is Very Wrong. Certainly the early scenes try to establish that Seth is abusive, emotionally and possible physically. Paige comes across as a wife who looks to outside sources for psychological support (hence her belief in angels), and her constant hints to Angel suggest that she’s hoping someone will see the truth that she cannot bring herself to face directly. Unfortunately, as anyone who watches genre television knows, it’s always the innocent looking child that turns out to be the one with the demonic side.

That doesn’t mean that Seth isn’t very controlling. There are still some abusive overtones to his personality. But in this particular situation, it’s more honest to say that Seth is forced to be more controlling and strict, because it’s the only way he knows how to keep the family together. Paige is clearly the type to internally understand the situation yet live within a fantasy where everything is just a huge misunderstanding, and that’s not going to keep everyone alive. Seth, for all his obvious faults, is trying to keep a sinking ship afloat.

One inconsistency is the nature of Ryan’s evil spree over the years. Early in the episode, the “family friend” goes missing. Later, it’s clear that there’s a fire involved. Why would the news accounts from that incident exclude something as important as “presumed dead in a fire”? It would certainly paint a different picture than someone simply being “missing”. One might assume that revealing that plot point would take away from the end of the episode, but it would actually give the whole story a more focused perspective.

It’s rather apparent from the dinner scene that one of the kids will be revealed as the demon, if only because Angel develops such a quick and human rapport with them. There’s a quick hint about the final plot reveal when Stephanie mentions that Ryan has always been “bad”, but that’s overshadowed by the revelation of the Ethros demon. Indeed, the treatment of the demonic manifestation is problematic from a plot element perspective.

The writers clearly want the audience to believe that the Ethros demon is the one committing all the evil actions. The final reveal, however, plainly states that Ryan is inherently “soulless”, without a conscience, and that the demon is trapped and trying to get out. So if Ryan’s actions are not dictated by the demon possession, it’s a question of whether or not the depiction of Ryan’s exorcism makes sense in terms of the true source of Ryan’s evil. One can assume that Ryan begins acting out once the forced reveal of the Ethros possession gives him an excuse; the Ethros demon’s powers become his to exploit, but he’s firmly in control along the way, no longer forced to hold back.

If the demon needs to be bound before the exorcism can begin, then it seems rather odd that Ryan doesn’t try to lash out and get away before he’s bound by the spell. He just sits on Mommy’s lap, and then lets everyone take him into Angel’s bedroom to be bound. Does the eucalyptus temporarily incapacitate the demon or something? Because that’s a lot of time for Ryan to play possum for no good reason.

One of the best scenes of the episode takes place in a church. Vampires have sometimes been a bit too happy to run around places of worship in the Buffyverse, but Angel is definitely wary of this particular venue. It adds to the overall impression that Angel is forcing himself to face great personal discomfort, all for the sake of Ryan. It’s a display of his character. The scene is made that much better by the fearless nun that moves the story along, making it clear that Angel and Wesley are the ones who have to help Ryan.

It comes down to Angel’s desire to take all the potential danger upon himself, in the name of protecting his friends, and Wesley’s desire to prove his worth and put to rest the personal demons that the case has resurrected. Both of them have the capacity to get over these issues rather quickly: Angel already knows that his friends have free will and can make their own choices, and Wesley has already defied his father’s wishes to do the right thing. But it all comes down to which one of them can more easily accomplish the task. Wesley’s method of communicating that point to Angel reveals a side of his character that would ultimately take hold in later seasons.

The implication of the exorcism scene is such, in retrospect, that Ryan is the one using the demonic guise to implement his true nihilism. Thus he is the one who wants to kill his mother, and he’s using the demon as a means of doing so without penalty. The exorcism rituals sap away the demonic power, but the core evil remains; Ryan is just apparently very good at hiding it.

The scenes with Cordy are used to lighten the mood somewhat, at least as far as the writers want the mood to be broken up. That’s a good thing, because as predictable as it might be at times, the exorcism scenes are creepy because of their character exploration. Wesley is forced to fight the demons of his father’s sense of discipline, which in and of itself is predictable yet still satisfying. When Ryan uses the strained dynamic between Wesley and Angel against them, Wesley pays the price. (The end of the third season makes this particularly satisfying, even if Wesley recovers far too quickly.)

Ryan uses Angel’s guilt over Doyle against him. Ryan wants to have the Ethros demon out of him, because it was holding him back. But if the struggle was too easy, Ryan would be exposed. One has to assume that Ryan was intelligent and clever enough to know that using Angel’s guilt over Doyle would be a good enough trigger to get Angel to drive the Ethros out, thus freeing him to act once his innocence is assumed.

The final twist is actually very clever, even if the execution leaves something to be desired. One can assume that the Ethros demon wouldn’t know how else to describe a child with no sense of morality, a “bad seed” that no amount of good parenting could control, but if taken as described, the explanation for Ryan is a little out of the usual Buffyverse bounds. How would a child be born without a soul? Then again, Angel and Darla later produce a child with a soul despite both being vampires, so anything is possible. It just doesn’t ring true.

Seth and Paige also seem to accept Ryan’s recovery at face value. Sure, they would want to believe that Ryan is better, but that’s closer to Paige’s way of thinking. Seth seems like a far more wary individual at this stage of the game, and one would expect him to be more skeptical of the abrupt cure. It works well enough, but under the circumstances, Ryan doesn’t do quite enough to make it seem like he’s suddenly all happiness and light. Once Ryan’s attempt to kill Stephanie is repelled, it’s equally odd how quickly Seth and Paige hand Ryan over to the authorities. For that matter, one has to wonder what they expect the authorities to do for Ryan at this point.

Beyond reminding the audience that Kate exists (very important for the next episode), the final scene drives home one of the themes of the episode. It’s not just an exploration of abusive fathers, potential or otherwise. It’s about what it takes sometimes to keep a family together and as intact as it can be. Angel needed to remember that, just as Wesley had to remind himself that he’s a man with his own sense of purpose now.

In a sense, this episode was a return to the kind of character development that had been momentarily abandoned with “She”. And in fact, for all its faults, this episode is entirely in keeping with what the fans themselves had been looking for. After all, this episode is an analogue to the early episodes of “Buffy”, where standard plot elements were used to introduce and expand character elements that would become important later in the series. Indeed, Wesley’s character becomes much closer to the haunted and determined warrior that emerges here, a far cry from bumbling fool of the previous episode.

Angel, on the other hand, is still a work in progress. This early in the series, his purpose is still unclear, his mission undefined. He knows that he should be helping people for the sake of personal redemption, but he hasn’t come to the point where he recognizes that it’s his ability to bring together resources in common cause that matters. This episode is one step closer to the more ensemble scope that would dominate the future of “Angel”.


Memorable Quotes

ANGEL: “She’s making brownies.”
WESLEY: “Oh, is that what I smell?”

ANGEL: “I’ll be fine, really….I’m not a big bleeder…”

SETH: “Like anyone needs to live forever.”
ANGEL: “No one needs that.”

WESLEY: “A father doesn’t need to be possessed to terrorize his children. He just has to…”

SETH: “The roast was a little dry.”
ANGEL: “No, it was full of…roasty goodness…”

CORDY: “Geez, we got it! Circle, angry, kill kill kill! Go to church already!”

WESLEY: “So our only option is…you do it?”
ANGEL: “That was vulgar.”
WESLEY: “But I believe I made my point…”

CORDY: “Looks the same. Hand-crafted by blind Tibetan monks?”
RICK: “Pieced together by mute Chinese nuns. Now that’s craftsmanship!”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode has some solid character development, hampered slightly by the stock horror concept at the heart of the story. The writers try to put a fresh spin on the “possession” concept, and in the process, they make the story better while muddying the Buffyverse waters a bit. While there are some strong character moments, the overall episode is rather average.

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

Final Rating: 7/10

X-Files 5.4: "Detour"

Written by Frank Spotnitz
Directed by Brett Dowler

In which Mulder and Scully find themselves involved when several people go missing in a Florida forest, where it seems like the woods themselves come alive…


Status Report

With the emphasis on character and conspiracy at the end of the fourth season, the true “monster” episodes took a back seat. This episode was something of a return to the first season concept of updating classic horror themes and creatures, with more than a little self-reference added into the mix. In a lot of ways, this is the perfect episode to set during the early part of the season, since it takes a while for the agents (and the audience) to get back into the rhythm of things after the “Gethsemane” trilogy.

The first third of the season is devoted to either Scully’s recovery or some non-continuity idea. The previous episode didn’t advance the “current” timeline from October/November 1997, where “Redux II” ends. This episode fits comfortably within the November/December timeframe, especially since the Bureau would likely assign Mulder and Scully to something simple like a communication/team-building workshop to get them back on solid footing. Indeed, the real investigations per se make more sense after “Emily”, which is what the timeline suggests.

This isn’t a case file so much as an aside through familiar territory. Regardless, it’s not as if Scully would be likely to sit back and recover on light duty. She was willing to work right up until the apparent end, and with her health restored (presumably by the control chip), she’d be anxious to get back to something approaching normalcy. Thus it doesn’t come as a surprise when she presents little or no resistance to Mulder’s idea of pain avoidance.

The entire episode has a somewhat lighter tone than the “monster” episodes typically have. While the “mothmen” are a threat, they are not quite so lethal as they could be, and it’s clear that they simply fulfill the same role as the creature in “Quagmire”. It’s all about getting the characters to a point where they open up and share their current emotional states. This time, there’s a lot more of the unspoken communication in play, which is very appropriate, given the theme of the episode.

The writers try to inject a certain level of whimsy into this episode, and for the most part, it works. One can assume that Mulder is trying to be more light-hearted to help Scully with the transition back into her old life, rather than being the hard-nosed self-righteous mentor that he decided to be after “Paper Clip”. Then again, Mulder has also been freed, from his point of view, of the need to prove the paranormal. Now it’s just a personal interest and a desire to avoid the utterly mundane, which changes up the motivations a bit.

Nothing exemplifies the change in dynamic more than the scene at the hotel. Mulder and Scully actually joke about fraternization rules, which must have made the shippers’ hearts go all a’flutter. One has to wonder if there were certain concerns about how close Mulder and Scully have gotten over the past few years; certainly, Mulder wasn’t acting like a man solely interested in a partner’s survival. Was the team-building exercise also a chance to give the agents a subtle clue on how partners ought to interact?

And yet for all that they are a bit closer and more aware of their mutual value to each other, some things never change. Mulder is still more than a little willing to run off into speculative territory, while Scully grounds herself in the more conventional realm of thought. One could quibble about whether or not this is consistent with the changes in their characters, but the changes weren’t all that clear in the first place and they weren’t enough to change Mulder and Scully from their own natures.

If there’s a sign that the “mothmen” plot element is largely a device, it’s the general weakness of its treatment. Mulder correctly identifies a human intelligence at work, a desire to divide and conquer, but the group still falls prey to that tactic in short order. It doesn’t quite make sense to allow the enemy to do what they intend to do! It drives home the theme (stolen from “When Animals Attack”, it seems!), but it also makes everyone look stupid in the process.

A lot of time is spent linking the “mothmen” to an actual documented paranormal event, even to the point of thus explaining how the “mothmen” would have been undetected for hundreds of years, but it’s really not necessary for the writers to make the effort. Those details don’t really give the concept any greater degree of viability. The purpose of the “mothmen” is to present a faceless, unseen menace, forcing the agents into isolation, thus forcing them to reveal things about themselves that would otherwise be hidden. Why complicate it with details that ultimately rob the writing staff of seeds for future episodes?

That said, when Mulder, Scully, and Jeff are on the run, it does provide for a nice bit of dramatic tension. The writers do manage to stage the methodical isolation of the agents in a logical manner, consistent with the abilities of the “mothmen”. And it seems clear enough that the “mothmen” are trying to kill anyone encroaching on their territory. This fact is so well established, along the lines of simple predator/prey dynamics, that the eventual discovery of survivors is a bit illogical.

This leads, of course, to the most appreciated scene of the episode: the “Conversation in the Forest”, as some call it. An interesting production tale is brought to mind. Apparently this episode was the victim of the Vancouver weather and the insane production scheduling forced by the feature film’s own production needs. This pivotal scene, central to the tone and theme of the episode, was filmed on a soundstage!

Mulder and Scully’s comfort level with each other, evident in the hotel scene, comes out even more in this scene. Usually Mulder is the only one tossing out suggestive side comments, but this time, Scully matches him blow for blow. It’s as if she’s more in touch with her feelings, and she’s aware of the underlying emotions that drove her to extremes in the fourth season. When else would she joke about identifying with Betty’s bustline?

But unspoken is what she means when she tells Mulder that her cancer taught her that life should have meaning: that the struggle to survive, in and of itself, is that meaning. This is where her faith, and perhaps her growing awareness of Mulder’s role in her life, comes into play. Mulder, on the other hand, continues to play things more flippantly, because he can’t put into words how much of the meaning in his life has been stolen away.

By the time Scully starts singing, with Mulder curled up on her lap, it’s rather clear that this is not the same Mulder and Scully who were rather suspicious of each other in the first season. It may not be what the Bureau considers legitimate behavior between partners in the field, and it’s not exactly professional detachment, but it makes sense for the characters and their journey. It’s played up for all it’s worth, to tease the shippers, but the psychology underneath those human moments betray the fact that these agents are central in each other’s lives.

For all that, this is still not “Quagmire”; so much was already said and covered during the “Gethsemane” trilogy that this is little more than the epilogue to that rollercoaster. “Quagmire” was a necessary step in establishing who Mulder and Scully were after the fallout of Melissa’s death. This episode is not nearly so necessary in the context of the season or series as a whole. It’s good material, and it’s very heartwarming, but it’s also not quite as deep an exploration as one might have hoped for.

With the commentary on unspoken communication done and over with, the episode quickly wraps up: the bodies and survivors are found, one of the “mothmen” is taken down, the agents are rescued rather conveniently, and then there’s the whole Ponce de Leon nonsense. The horror-movie ending is only remarkable for the fact that Scully feels comfortable enough to pack Mulder’s travel bags; one can only speculate as to the contents! Then again, Scully didn’t go running and screaming from Mulder’s porn collection in years past, so it’s unlikely to bother her by now.

In the end, this episode has some rather endearing character moments, but beyond that, there’s not a lot going for it. If anything, it’s a brief respite from the high-concept episodes that surround it. It’s one of the more light-hearted episodes of the season, however, and considering how the series would revel in its popular darkness for much of the time, this is a welcome if ordinary respite.


Memorable Quotes

STONECYPHER: “When I stood on Mike’s shoulders and I put that electric pencil sharpener on top of the pile, we both knew…we could never have done it alone.”
MULDER: “Kill me now.”

KINSLEY: “I couldn’t believe how hard it was not to use the word ‘but’!”
MULDER: “I’m having that problem right now.”
STONECYPHER: “Have you ever been to a team seminar, Agent Mulder?”
MULDER: “No. you know, unfortunately, around this time of year I always develop a severe hemorrhoidal condition…”

SCULLY: “You want me to tell them that you’re not going to make it to this year’s teamwork seminar.”
MULDER: “Yeah, you see that? We don’t need that conference. We have communication like that, unspoken. You know what I’m thinking!”

SCULLY: “Since you won’t be making it to the conference…”
MULDER: “PAR-TAY!”

SCULLY: “You know, Mulder, sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn’t be such a bad idea…”

JEFF: “If we become blinded by the beauty of nature, we may fail to see its cruelty and violence.”
SCULLY: “Walt Whitman?”
JEFF: “No…’When Animals Attack’ on the FOX Network…”

MULDER: “I was told once that the best way to regenerate body heat was to crawl naked into a sleeping bag with somebody else who’s already naked.”
SCULLY: “Well, maybe if it rains sleeping bags, you might get lucky…”

MULDER: “I don’t wanna wrestle…”

SCULLY: “Jeremiah was a bullfrog...”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is a somewhat light-hearted departure from the mythology installments and out-of-continuity flights of fancy that would dominate the early fifth season. While the character-driven moments are a highlight, the actual “case” is far from special, often digressing from its purpose as a trigger for the character work. In the end, it’s fairly average.

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

Final Rating: 7/10

Roswell 2.19: "Baby, It's You"

Written by Lisa Klink
Directed by Rodney Charters

In which Max and Tess must deal with the biological consequences of their tryst, while Liz, Maria, and Michael uncover what Alex was really doing when he was supposed to be in Sweden…


Status Report

As the season came to a close, the network penchant for unwarranted interference began to show itself to an even higher degree than in the past. It wasn’t just a question of dangling out the series’ fate anymore; it was a matter of rearranging episodes and cutting length. The end of the second season would be a primer on how quickly and methodically a network can destroy the narrative flow of an inventive writing staff.

Originally, this would have been the penultimate episode of the season (and, as far as anyone knew at the time, the series). Everything since “Cry Your Name” gets funneled through this episode, and the tension is ramped up to a fever pitch. This should and would have led into a two-hour season/series finale, which would have covered the resolution of this arc in the same level of detail and attention.

But the network, upon seeing the episodes themselves, decided to play a different game. The writers had been planning the Alex arc since the news of the season’s extension to 22 episodes, so the seeds were planted in “Off the Menu”, a follow-up to “Heart of Mine”. The episodes were filmed in the proper progression so that character and plot points would match up.

The network, rather annoyed at Ron Moore’s insistence that the writers get to decide how the season would end, decided to yank “Off the Menu” from its proper place in the sequence, placing it between “Baby, It’s You” and “The Departure”. This effectively robs the final episodes of their proper context and momentum. Since the network suits had gotten to the point where they were practically rewriting entire acts and being ignored by the professionals on the writing staff, they didn’t see a problem in making this change.

Nor did they see a problem with taking a two-hour finale and condensing it to one hour. That’s going from 88 minutes to 44 minutes. Think of how much was added to “Lord of the Rings: Return of the King” and the impact on the depth of the storytelling. That’s what the network executives chose to remove from the end of the second season. Instead of going from “Baby, It’s You” into a double-length version of “The Departure”, the season ends with a mess.

Knowing that, it’s interesting to see these episodes on DVD, because it’s easy enough to place the episodes in proper perspective. The season definitely flows better with “Off the Menu” in its proper place in the sequence. But since the damage was done, it’s worth going through the episodes in the order they were aired, since the DVDs leave them in the network’s flawed order. “Baby, It’s You” is a good place to begin tracking where things went wrong, since it was left more or less untouched.

One of the biggest issues of the previous episode was the depiction of Liz as an obsessive and self-satisfying crusader, willing to cut down everyone in her path, but justified by the fact that she’s drawing all the right conclusions. This episode presents Liz in a more balanced light, which makes her a lot more sympathetic. In fact, the writers do a much better job of making the harsh choices of the characters sensible from their own point of view. Behavior isn’t justified, so much as placed in context, as it should have been in the first place.

The plot moves along fast and furious after the end of the previous episode, with Max and Tess waking up with the awkwardness one would expect. Of course, it quickly becomes something far, far more disturbing, since apparently the hybrid process also made them highly fertile with their intended mates! It’s a bit quick, but it works within the structure of the story.

The first act follows up on all the burnt bridges from the previous episode as well. Liz comes back to Maria with something solid about Alex’s unusual “Sweden” trip, and asks her best friend for help. That’s pretty much all it takes to meld fences. Max doesn’t quite know what to think of his tryst with Tess, but Isabel has no intention of being his confidante, given his approach to exerting control over her college aspirations. Ultimately, Max decides to make his connection with Tess a matter of public acknowledgment, but it’s clearly not the kind of comfortable statement he would have made with Liz at his side.

One welcome development is the connection that is forged between Kyle and Isabel. Isabel needs someone to show her why her life doesn’t suck, and Kyle is still looking for some sense of why being changed by Max’s healing power is a good thing. Kyle definitely wants to give Max a piece of his mind for sleeping with his “sister”, so it’s not exactly strange bedfellows. If anything, it’s somewhat unfortunate that the writers didn’t take this budding connection and make more of it in the third season, instead of introducing a rather uninteresting and poorly conceived new character.

That said, it’s hard to imagine why Isabel would so willingly engage in Kyle’s inner porn addict. For one thing, there really is nothing that Isabel would get out of it, and does she really want to know Kyle that well? And why does it take Kyle to make the suggestion for Isabel to think of using her powers to get back at Max by making his life more complicated? She ignored the problem of openly using her powers in the previous episode, so why hold back now?

Things go from bad to worse for Max when Tess drops the bombshell. It certainly gives him the excuse to be distracted while everyone else begins gathering evidence to support Liz’s theory of alien murder, but it also adds to his enormous personal stress. It’s not enough for him to be worried about Liz exposing them to every enemy on the planet while destroying whatever they still had between them; he also has to worry about the fact that an impulsive act, borne of yearnings he can’t understand, produced an unexpected and rather quick consequence.

Considering where they left off, it’s no wonder that Max bites Liz’s head off, though the extent of his resentment and anger is surprising. What’s worse is that his reaction to Liz and her conversation with Tess puts him in a position to deny the truth when it is revealed, because he openly mocks Liz by essentially guessing reality. Note that Tess doesn’t deny killing Alex; she lets Kyle give an alibi, confident in her ability to keep the truth hidden.

Maria manages to track Alex’s true location to Las Cruces, and she prepares to go there with Liz. Michael intercedes, but not for Max’s sake; he’s actually more concerned that Maria will get herself hurt by joining Liz’s crusade. It puts Michael in a difficult position, especially since he’s demonstrating his true loyalty to Max by shielding him from something that must be done against his wishes.

Michael also has to serve as Max’s confidante in Isabel’s absence, which places them even further in the roles set down in their past lives. Michael is stunned to learn that Max and Tess have fallen so quickly and completely into the lives set forth for them in the Book of Destiny, especially since Max was the one always advising against letting those urges rule their lives. But this episode does serve as a reminder that Max has been denying a biological imperative to mate with Tess since the moment she appeared. It’s not as though he had only human teen urges to resist!

The writers do a nice enough job of making it look like Alex was controlled ala Brody/Larek during his time at Las Cruces. More than that, they demonstrate how well the story arc is constructed by having Max and Tess break out the Book of Destiny while Liz and Maria are chasing down Alex’s translation of it, unawares. At the same time, Tess takes note of Max and his conflicted attitude about the baby and begins using the mindwarp to convince him that the baby is in jeopardy, all in the name of ensuring that Max will come to the “right” conclusion.

One rather obvious sign of network interference is the unnecessary and contrived appearance by Nelly Furtado. It smacks of a ratings stunt, especially since it’s rather obvious that anyone tuning into the episode just for that would be rather confused by the plot (especially the next episode!). It’s not necessary for Liz and Maria to find “Leanna” under such circumstances, and once the gimmick is out of the way, the writers manage to give “Leanna” a sinister purpose. Couldn’t that have been accomplished more effectively by having Liz or Maria notice her from a distance?

It’s not entirely clear how Liz got the professor to help her use The Matrix to uncover what Alex was doing, but it does provide for a major shock to the system. It’s sweet to see Michael trying to get Maria and Liz to protect themselves, but even he can’t overcome his excitement when he sees that Alex managed to decode the Book of Destiny! With a little contrivance involving “Leanna” and her mail, they find out that the translation was sent to a remote location, which happens to be guarded with an alien security device. All at once, Liz gets that justification, and Michael is there to confirm it.

It seems rather interesting that Alex would be able to translate the Book of Destiny, considering the fact that there’s really no Rosetta Stone for him to use as a basis. Did Tess have some basic building blocks for Alex to start with? The alternative, suggested by the end of the first season, is that some aspects of the Book were connected to specific analogues on Earth, and that would have given Alex enough of a primer, given his computer skills.

From a plot perspective, it seems as though Tess is trying to get Max to decode the instructions for going back to Antar, under the impression that Alex was unable to complete the translation. Otherwise, why pretend that she doesn’t know, given that she was the one who was using Alex in the first place? Is it more important to have Max work it out himself, to get himself used to the idea of going back to Antar of his own accord?

Whatever the case, Max hits his emotional stress limit for once, and while it’s hard to watch, it’s good to see him finally let it all out. And Isabel gets to be the one to help him feel better, which is exactly what she’s supposed to do. Is this the kind of person Vilandra was, before she fell in with Kivar? Isabel is never more attractive than in this moment, when she lets down her guard and lets the better angels of her nature rule along with her heart. It’s just what Max needs, especially considering where it’s all going.

If Isabel hadn’t calmed him down, Michael’s admission might have set him off. Instead, Max is in the mood to trust Michael as his loyal friend. And that brings the characters back to where they were at the beginning of the series: Max, Isabel, and Michael working together as a unit. If this had been the final step towards a series finale, at least that much would have been accomplished.

The end of this episode leads directly into the beginning of “The Departure”, and there are still a number of open questions to be answered. So why would the network fail to notice this and follow up a strong ending with an episode out of continuity? It’s not like this was a weak episode with bad character development. Needless musical guest issues aside, this is a strong episode that corrects some of the excesses of the previous episode while adding new sources of tension.

If there is a weakness to the episode, it’s the desire to give all the characters and relationships a final moment to shine. The interaction between Isabel and Kyle is a bit out of left field, though the writers do manage to bring a certain justification to it in the end. So for all that, why miss one of the more obvious relationships in need of attention: Max and Valenti? This is exactly the kind of moment where Max might want some advice from a father figure, and he certainly can’t discuss the ins and outs of his particular nightmare with Philip!

But dealing with the full implications of the supporting cast has always been a struggle for the writers, especially since the network more or less demanded that the teens be in the forefront as much as possible. Given their restraints and the network pressure, the writers manage to deliver a strong episode under pressure, one that manages to rise above the mess that would come in its wake.


Memorable Quotes

ISABEL: “His Majesty will now retire to his room!”

MICHAEL: “Mine sucks too.”

MAX: “The thing is, there’s been a complication.”
MICHAEL: “What? Alien herpes?”

MICHAEL: “Maxwell, if this thing comes out green with four fingers and three eyes, that puts a major cramp in our ‘hide in plain sight’ strategy…”

KYLE: “Hey! I’m a guy, and I know what freaks guys out. Max wakes up tomorrow…one testicle!”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is a bit more balanced than the previous installment, building on its strengths to bring the season-ending arc towards a thrilling finish. While network decisions ultimately stole the episode of some of its power (including a musical guest out of nowhere), the character and plot development makes up for it. As usual, when the heat is on, the writing staff delivers.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Buffy 4.14: "Goodbye Iowa"

Written by Marti Noxon
Directed by David Solomon

In which the truth about Professor Walsh and her project at the Initiative is revealed, and Riley is forced to deal with the thought that his life has been a lie, while Buffy deals with the fallout…


Status Report

This episode not only picks up where the previous episode left off, but it also takes the season’s theme and runs with it. The questions of self-identity and self-realization have been on the table since the premiere, where Buffy was doubting herself and her place in the world. Before dealing directly with Buffy’s crisis of personal growth, however, there’s the matter of Riley Finn, a character designed specifically to explore the concepts of self-awareness. Riley begins to discover that critical assumptions about his world are wrong, and it is not easy for him to adjust.

Riley’s experience is important because it foreshadows the journey that Buffy must ultimately take throughout the rest of the series. Buffy has lived the life of the Slayer for years, but beyond Giles’ most basic lessons, Buffy has ignored the training that Slayers have previously enjoyed. Thus the source of the Slayer power is something of an unknown, and what that means to Buffy as a person has yet to be explored.

The question is: how much of a person is the sum of the influences that went into his or her creation, and how much is inherent to the individual? To understand what the legacy of the Chosen is, one must first establish who Buffy is at her core. This season is all about taking the lessons learned in the third season (Buffy facing her dark reflection) and using them to find herself, once all of her assumptions from high school are stripped away. It’s a long and involved process that never really comes to an end, especially since Buffy comes to the inevitable conclusion that she must understand what comes externally from the Chosen line. It becomes a process of give and take, stepwise revelation…Buffy learns about herself, thus discovers something about her Slayer legacy, which then spirals into more self-awareness, and so on.

As would be the case for many of the character introduced to carry the theme in the later season of “Buffy”, unlike Angel or Faith, the writers would ultimately fail to consider what to do with Riley once his main purpose was fulfilled. For many fans, Riley will always be remembered as the annoying character that he became in the beginning of the fifth season. The episode also introduces a side to Tara that touches on the season’s theme; indeed, Tara would become another example of a character that was kept around past her intended exit with no clear purpose.

But at this point, Riley was of primary importance to the narrative. For one thing, the writers had set up Buffy and Riley as a couple isolating themselves from their allies; this would have long-term consequences for the rest of the season. On Buffy’s end, the damage wasn’t quite so severe, but the lines between Scoobies and Initiative were definitively drawn. Riley was caught between the truth offered by Buffy and the life he had come to know in the Initiative.

Of course, Riley doesn’t see it quite that way at first, and Buffy’s life doesn’t make it any easier. Spike’s association with the gang (however loose at this point) is in direct conflict with Riley and his training. To him, it seems like Buffy may be the enemy that Walsh was trying to make her appear to be. But he also can’t deny the fact that Walsh lied to him. His physical symptoms, his withdraw from the chemicals administered to him by Walsh and the Initiative, are a reflection of the shedding of illusions. In an interesting (if gruesome) parallel, Adam has awoken, and he feels a need to understand himself, to the point of conducting experiments.

More parallels are drawn between the Scoobies and the Initiative. The gang hasn’t really been working together as a team for some time, and being forced into close quarters under siege conditions is not good for the friendly relations. Similarly, Riley finds Forrest unwilling to give Buffy the benefit of the doubt. In fact, Forrest is unwilling to accept that Walsh is potentially deceptive. Once Walsh’s body is found, Forrest automatically assumes that Buffy killed the Professor, rather than waiting to examine the evidence or accepting Engleman’s admission that the Polgara skewer was involved.

Things go from bad to worse when Riley decides to take command of the investigation into Walsh’s death himself. This sets the stage for a direct confrontation with all the things he would rather not acknowledge. He tests Buffy, unsure of where her allegiances lie, despite all the evidence to date. Buffy is forced into a position of resolving the issue herself, if only to prove herself to Riley. Under such circumstances, the result is predictably damaging to both parties.

Since the episode is all about shedding illusions (or the struggle to preserve them), the scene between Willow and Tara is significant. Tara has something to hide, and she’s willing to lie to Willow to keep it that way. Considering how much of her confidence is currently riding on Willow, this speaks to something rather powerful. Unfortunately, while this subplot would gather some ominous overtones in short order, the plot would come crashing down when Tara’s supposed demonic legacy would turn out to be a lie.

Before long, Riley is confronting Buffy at Willy’s, and as his confusion grows, so does his reaction to his withdrawal. By the time his world is truly spinning in circles, he’s struggling for control and losing the fight badly. Buffy, of course, is the only thing that seems to calm him down, but that’s not necessarily a sign of romance; Buffy has already been established as a powerful female figure, in place of Walsh, and thus his comfort in her presence has disturbing psychological implications.

With all the thematic resonance established early in the episode, the writing wavers a bit once the plot turns towards the action at the Initiative base. The story requires a showdown between Buffy, Riley, and Adam under highly charged circumstances, and it’s clear that the writers weren’t sure how to get there. Bringing back some semblance of Xander’s supposed military “training” from “Halloween” is unnecessary and contradictory, especially since Buffy’s clearance wouldn’t extend to Xander if the Initiative had any semblance of security. Then again, the Initiative is run rather sloppily, because they were always better as a concept than as depicted. (Though Buffy in glasses is rather hot!)

As usual, the writing seems to indicate a much larger and far more impressive operation than the one that’s actually on screen, which is just plain weird. It’s one thing for that disparity to be in the script for “The Initiative”, but once it was clear that the reality wouldn’t match the vision, why keep up the silly front? It adds to the already present concern that the writers didn’t really know what to do with the Initiative, beyond its role as the source of Riley’s inner struggle. (It also doesn’t help that the meds given to Riley and the others are suddenly being given through their food, instead of the far more obvious and consistent vitamins that were highlighted in the previous episode!)

It all comes to a head when Riley hears the truth and can’t handle it. He can’t reconcile the idea that he was being treated like a test subject by someone he practically worshipped, and that the worship itself was at least partly engineered. Enter Adam, who is both a regression from the subtle workings that created Riley and an advancement of Walsh’s obvious goal: the creation of the perfect anti-demon soldier.

Adam comes across as a creature engineered in both body and mind, meant to approach his appointed task with a certain brilliance tactical flair. This also echoes the philosophical side to the original Frankenstein’s Monster. But it should be noted that Adam offers to explain Walsh’s endgame to Riley, and at the last moment, Riley interrupts him. This is fairly blatant way to avoid having to give an explanation, since it’s clear that the writers didn’t know where to take the concept. They needed to use this situation for the sake of triggering Riley’s psychological journey, but beyond that, the writers were unsure of themselves.

As one would expect, the fallout is left to future episodes, but Riley becomes the center of a struggle between the reality that Buffy offers and the illusion that Forrest embraces. This would serve to isolate Buffy even further, because she feels a need to fill the gap that the loss of Walsh and the Initiative leaves in Riley. More than that, Buffy’s own questions of self-identity come to an unusual head in the next few episodes, where her dark reflection (Faith) makes an unexpected return.

But the point of this episode is to bring the “complication” phase of the season to a relative close. Many characters are at a crisis point. Riley, certainly, has had every assumption in his life thrown into question. Buffy, still unsure of who she’s supposed to be, now faces an enemy that she doesn’t quite understand. Tara is hiding things from Willow, even as she draws Willow away from her old friends. Xander still doesn’t have a stready job, and thus he hasn’t found a solid foundation for understanding himself. Even Spike is no longer living in the same world he left behind, now that he fights demons.

The subsequent two-part epic would transition the season towards its “resolution” phase, where the plot/character arcs would begin to converge. Riley’s process of dealing with the truth about the Initiative is key to that evolution, and in a sense, it’s that outward focus that leaves the season feeling somewhat unfocused. As strong as the Riley material is in this episode, Buffy’s part of the journey is only prompted by the events of this season. Add to that the fracturing of the core gang, however well intentioned, and the season is weakened.

This episode is very strong, however, even as compared to the previous episode, which felt rushed and poorly structured. It resolves the immediate problem of replacing Walsh with an even bigger threat, while also giving Riley a reason to exist beyond the need to give Buffy a love interest. All that said, the episode struggles because the season as a whole was not as well-conceived as it should have been. One could easily wonder if the troubles with “Angel” and its first season were to blame.


Memorable Quotes

XANDER: “Storm the Initiative…yeah! Let’s take on those suckers!”
BUFFY: “I was thinking more that we’d hide.”
XANDER: “Oh thank God!”

RILEY: “That’s Hostile 17!”
SPIKE: “No…I’m just a friend of Xanderrrr…bugger it. I’m your guy.”

BUFFY: “That would never happen.”
WILLOW: “Well, no, Buff…that’s why they call then cartoons, not documentaries.”

BUFFY: “Riley was supposed to be Mr. Joe Guy. We were going to do dumb things like hold hands through the daisies, going tra-la-la.”
WILLOW: “Poor Buffy…your life resists all things average…”

BUFFY: “That probably would have sounded more commanding if I wasn’t wearing my Yummy Sushi pajamas…”

BUFFY: “Sorry. I’m the only one that can pass the retinal scan.”
XANDER: “The…ew, I don’t wanna see that!”
BUFFY: “Retinal. Scan. Xander!”

ENGLEMAN: “Adam…Maggie would want you to stand down.”
ADAM: “Yes. But I seem to have a design flaw.”

BUFFY: “No way I can get near him until I come up with a better plan than just storming in and getting us all shot.”
WILLOW: “Yeah, you might want to work the kinks out of that one…”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is a strong continuation of the season’s theme, and a highlight reel for the character of Riley Finn. Several characters are forced to reconsider the basic assumptions of self-identity, and the seeds are planted for Buffy’s own psychological journey in future seasons. The Initiative arc continues to be ill-defined and out of proportion, but despite a clear direction, it provides the necessary fodder for the intended character drama.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

X-Files 5.3: "Unusual Suspects"

Written by Vince Gilligan
Directed by Kim Manners

In which the origins of the Lone Gunmen and Mulder’s crusade for the truth are apparently unearthed, in a tale of love lost and ideals shattered…


Status Report

In seasons past, the premiere episode(s) have resulted in major consequences for the characters, which would then disappear almost instantly as the series returned to its usual fragmented formatting. Regardless of how stylish an episode like “D.P.O.” might be, setting it months after “Paper Clip” and barely mentioning the supposedly revised status quo did nothing to give the episode a fighting chance.

In this case, the writers were up against an even greater challenge. The “Gethsemane” trilogy left the characters in a state of spiritual flux, but the roadmap between Scully’s restored belief and Mulder’s crisis of faith and the events of the film (which had completed the bulk of principal photography over the break) wasn’t clear. The network didn’t want the series to end with the fifth season (where Carter had assumed it would), and the writers weren’t sure how that would play out. Add to that the limited availability of the cast early in the production schedule (which was already down to 20 episodes to accommodate the film), and the season was off to a rocky start.

The solution was relatively simple. Instead of trying to create an episode that would take place after “Redux II” (which was still to be filmed, for that matter), the producers decided to make the first episode a flashback. That solved the continuity problem. To resolve the cast scheduling, the writers focused not on Mulder or Scully, but rather, on some unlikely stand-ins: The Lone Gunmen.

It was a risk, and not just because of the somewhat unnecessary and gratuitous Richard Belzer cameo. It was a risk because the series had long since abandoned any concerted effort to take supporting characters and flesh them out. Skinner got two episodes, but they were largely plagued with a lack of clear direction; there was an obvious lack of commitment in terms of making the character stand out as a potential series lead of his own. Indeed, the supporting characters only got to star in an episode when the leads needed time off, so such episodes were clearly not conceived with the notion of giving those characters life.

The episode plays like something of an “origin” episode, telling the story of how the Lone Gunmen came together and how Mulder became their highly unlikely ally. Left to choose which of the three outcasts would make the most natural central lead for the hour, the writers settled on the most conservative of the bunch: Byers. After watching this episode again, it’s odd to think that so many fans bashed the future “Lone Gunmen” series for beginning with a Byers-centric episode of Mulder-esque proportions; the writers of this episode clearly attempt to use Byers as a natural bridge between Mulder’s more conventional point of view (at least in this time period) and the more esoteric personalities of Frohike and Langly.

In 1989, Byers starts out as an idealistic FCC employee with a sense of pride and trust in his government that is almost painful to hear. Frohike and Langly, warring hackers with business in illegal cable, look down at him as a “narc”. Everything changes, as it so often does, when a mysterious woman walks into Byers’ life, and everything he believes is turned upside down. In short order, Byers becomes utterly convinced that his government is the enemy, and all that idealism is turned towards exposing the truth.

The parallels to Mulder are striking, and there’s no small amount of foreshadowing in that symmetry. In 1989, Mulder is the rising star of the Violent Crimes Unit, with no sign of delving into “extreme possibilities”. The conceit of this episode is that Mulder met the Lone Gunmen in the very moments of his personal conversion, just as they found their own mission in life. It’s like a conspiracy theorist’s favorite comic book origin story, and it plays out in that fashion, right down to the odd plot contrivances of the final act.

Perhaps the most unbelievable aspect of the episode is the central premise. Why would a woman like Susanne Modeski accept help from someone so out of his depth as John Fitzgerald Byers? Granted, she’s at the convention to find someone with the skills to hack into the DOD computer network in the hopes of stopping the conspiracy’s test program, but what makes her think that Byers is the one? If the audience is supposed to be sympathetic to Modeski by the end of the episode, her decision to use and abuse Byers’ trust and puppy love doesn’t exactly fit that expectation.

If one accepts that this is all about Byers calling on Frohike and Langly to pull off the most difficult hack ever in the name of uncovering the truth and saving democracy, all with their pathetic little hearts on their sleeves, then the episode still comes up a bit short on the details. It’s remarkably easy for Byers to break into the Whitestone network, and when it comes down to breaking into the FBI network, it’s not exactly something that looks like it requires three unusual minds working together. In fact, it’s hard to tell what exactly Frohike does, or why Byers really needed Langly in the first place.

By the time that Modeski explains her true purpose and the depth of her justifiable paranoia, the episode has already embraced a certain level of contrived absurdity. This works if one can accept that the events are being told from Byers’ slanted point of view, both then and “now”. Not all the flaws are covered by accepting this point of view, but it helps. Even taking Byers’ particular and peculiar perspective into account, some parts of the story don’t add up.

The final act is the deal-breaker. It’s impossible to accept the idea that Mulder would be exposed to a dosage of paranoid juice at least hundreds of times more powerful than even the conspiracy intended and survive intact. That’s a massive overdose of a chemical agent, and such things typically result in lethal side effects. For Mulder to survive, only to have his inner conspiracy theorist brought to the surface, seems rather forced. After all, if that’s the extent of the effect of a massive overdose, what did the conspiracy think would happen at the much smaller dosage? It’s not like Americans aren’t kept paranoid enough by their employers!

But even taking that with faith, how did the Lone Gunmen themselves survive? They watch Informant X “sanitize” the scene with little or no regard for any life other than Mulder’s, and they get any with little more than a cheap scare. Is the audience supposed to believe that Informant X was impressed with Byers and his idealism, and that Informant X let them live out of some sympathy with those ideals? As a rough concept, that works, but Informant X has killed and “sanitized” others with just as firm a sense of idealism in the past.

Therein lies the difficulty of this episode. It’s great to see the Lone Gunmen get their chance in the limelight, and it’s good to see them as distinct characters. But this has all the same problems as every other retroactive “origin” story: the stakes must be high enough to shake the characters out of their old lives and into a more polarized philosophy, yet the characters must survive those circumstances despite their own ignorance. Several times in the story, the Lone Gunmen were in a position where they should have been dead; their survival was never in question, and so the extremity of their situation was hard to accept.

If one is able to sit back and just accept what happens without question, then the next challenge is the tone. The episode takes itself very seriously. In fact, the tone is even more serious than the “Lone Gunmen” pilot episode, which was panned for lacking in the wacky. The script has some clever and funny moments, but they are few and far between. Several scenes suffer from Byers’ lack of animation; it may be his character trait, but it’s not too exciting to watch an even less expressive version of Mulder without something to balance out the earnest seriousness.

That’s not to say that the episode is devoid of the humor and quirkiness that makes the Lone Gunmen so much fun to watch in small doses. Frohike and Langly make a good comic team, especially when they get competitive and start ripping into one another. Langly’s role playing habit, complete with cash gambling, is a definite highlight. And it’s funny to see the straight-laced Mulder of yesteryear run around with a cell phone the size of a toaster oven. It’s just that the plot gets in the way of the fun, regardless of how much one wants to sympathize with Byers and his lost innocence.

This episode, for all its emphasis on the Lone Gunmen, is notable for how it fits into Mulder’s established history. By this point in the series, it was clear that Mulder had set aside the issue of Samantha’s abduction until his memories of the event were “recovered”; the events of this episode seem to be designed to send him down that path. But as later episodes would reveal, the trigger was more than just an enhanced paranoia. Mulder began working actively on the X-Files and finding answers to his questions after he became involved with Diana Fowley.

Mulder’s relationship with Diana is never really defined, except to say that it ended shortly before Mulder’s first case with Scully. The implication is that Mulder was kept from gaining any true insights while working with Diana; his role as disinformation lackey was the sole extent of his misguided efforts, and Diana made sure of that. Mulder’s importance to Cancer Man, on the other hand, was definitely a known quantity in 1989, since Informant X makes certain that Mulder is left relatively unscathed.

From his FBI record, Mulder is single (not divorced); thus his wedding ring is somewhat hard to explain. (And yes, his record would indicate a divorce, since an agent’s ex-spouse would be kept under tabs, for obvious reasons.) One explanation is that Mulder had already gotten involved with Diana, and this was some kind of romantic gesture. Alternatively, he wore the ring to ward off anyone trying to get involved with him, and Diana overcame that obstacle.

The real answer, of course, is that the fifth season is when David Duchovny began asserting his will upon the series in a major way. He was recently married and rather unhappy with the idea of having to stay and film in Vancouver. It’s well documented that he was making a lot of noise about leaving the series if there weren’t changes. So in the name of “adding mystery to Mulder’s past”, he was resolute in wearing his wedding ring in this episode. Since the writers never really knew what to do with that little character element, one can only wonder if they chose to interpret the move as a tantrum on Duchovny’s part.

But Duchonvy’s growing dissatisfaction (matched by some of Anderson’s as well) should have been a sign that the series needed to expand and grow. Episodes like this, focusing on someone other than the two main characters, could and should have been a solid tool for establishing a wider pool of candidates for future exploration. Instead, it was written to be the stop-gap measure that it was in reality, with little thought of where it might lead. That being the case, it’s an entertaining episode, but hardly to the level that it could have been.


Memorable Quotes

FROHIKE: “You know, with all that long blonde hair, you’ll be the first one in here that gets traded for cigarettes…”

FROHIKE: “You look like a gentleman who could appreciate 33 channels of crystal-clear television.”
MULDER: “No thanks, handsome.”
FROHIKE: “Oh, a man of distinction…punkass…”

FROHIKE: Hello, pretty lady! Yeah…what’s with the narc?”

BYERS: “You’re talking about a pre-meditated crime against the United States government!”
FROHIKE: “Hey, your second one today…welcome to the dark side…”

LANGLY: “Come on, natural 20! Daddy needs a new Sword of Wounding!”

FROHIKE: “Now, I’m sorry, you’re telling me that the US government, the same government that gave us Amtrak…”
LANGLY: “…not to mention the Susan B. Anthony dollar…”
FROHIKE: “…is behind some of the darkest, most far-reaching conspiracies on the planet? That’s just crazy!”
LANGLY: “I mean, like…this guy works for the government!”

MODESKI: “No matter how paranoid you are, you’re not paranoid enough.”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was an interesting diversion from the normal format of the series. If one accepts that the story is being told from a particular and somewhat biased point of view, then many of the episode’s flaws can be overlooked. But there are still some issues with the plausibility of the story, and ultimately, the questions surrounding Mulder overshadow the character development of the Gunmen themselves.

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

Final Rating: 6/10