Alias 4.22: "Before the Flood"

Written by Josh Appelbaum and Andre Nemec
Directed by Lawrence Trilling

In which the team and Irina must race against time to prevent Yelena from completing her endgame and bringing about the end of the world…


Status Report

One of the biggest problems with ending a long-term plot arc is that it can be very straightforward, almost to the point of boredom. If the writers do their job correctly, then the various layers of the story are all established before the endgame is unleashed. As military experts across history have noted: most wars are won or lost long before they are fought. A successful endgame requires proper planning, the likes of which makes the battle itself a foregone conclusion.

In this case, the episodes leading into the finale set the stage well enough that the events of this episode don’t need to rehash too many of the previous details. At the same time, the availability of certain guest stars made it difficult to add depth to the story. Lena Olin was only available for two episodes, and that meant that “Search and Rescue” was going to be focused on Irina’s re-introduction more than anything else.

Of course, at the time, the writers and producers were under the impression that the finale would be 90 minutes. It was a later decision by the network to extend the finale for “Lost” (good move) and thus shorten the finale for “Alias” (bad move). The effects of this decision are all over the final product. Already dealing with a fairly basic story structure and the limitations created by Lena Olin’s availability, the producers had to take a story that was meant for 66 minutes (without commercials) and cut it down to 44 minutes.

As any fan of films on DVD can attest, adding just 5 or 10 minutes to a film can add layers of character development and smooth over abrupt bumps in the plot structure. From the “Lord of the Rings” perspective, adding another 30 minutes or so to “Fellowship of the Ring” made that film far better than the original theatrical release. So the loss of 1/3 of the running time for this episode is not some minor annoyance; it had a terrible effect on the flow of the story and the emotional depth of its key conflicts.

There is literally not one scene that isn’t cut down to the essentials; in fact, there’s not one scene that doesn’t directly serve the needs of the plot. The result is something that feels like a highlight reel, and that’s quite unfortunate. The writers spent a lot of time preparing the audience for an apparent resolution to the entire Rambaldi-related plot structure to this point, and it feels like they were only given the chance to show the Cliff Notes version of it. This is like a network deciding to air only the best plays of the Super Bowl instead of the entire game.

If there’s a specific sign of the editing process, beyond how quickly and abruptly the scenes cut away, it’s in the dialogue. Scenes are cut down to the bare essentials, with the characters only getting the chance to say what’s needed to follow the story. Anything remotely resembling character exploration is set aside to ensure that the story can be told. Clearly, the producers couldn’t take the finale and split it down the middle, airing the second half of the story as the fifth season premiere; that would have run afoul of the cost for Lena Olin’s presence (the numbers get complicated, to say the least). So the only option was to show as much as possible and hope it hangs together.

As a result, most of the characters end up saying stock phrases that show very little character nuance, and some scenes feel completely cobbled together. For instance, at one point, after Nadia is overrun by the infected Russians, Irina simply states that she’s still alive and everyone accepts it. What possible evidence made her draw that conclusion? Something was missing, but it probably would have taken too long to make the proper connection.

Equally cobbled together is the final battle between Sydney and Nadia beneath the Circumference. As predicted after “Echoes”, the circular part of the Eye of Rambaldi, over which the two sisters would battle, is not simply the Circumference itself but also the fate of the world. This is the culmination of four seasons of plotting and the entire point of the fourth season. So it’s a bit disappointing to see the emotional showdown between sisters reduced to Sydney doing a little begging and then kicking ass.

All of these issues would undermine a strong story, but when there are flaws, they are quickly exposed in the most unforgiving manner. The key problem with this episode is that it doesn’t quite deliver on what was promised when Nadia was originally brought onto the show. Part of that problem is that the writers of the third season came up with “The Passenger” long before they had any idea what the hell that was supposed to mean. They were originally going to place Lauren in that role somehow, but changed their minds. As such, the whole concept of warring sisters was a late addition that didn’t necessarily make sense.

The fourth season has done much to fix that problem by giving Sydney and Nadia a strong relationship. They band together quickly as sisters within a truly bizarre family, largely because they have very similar backgrounds. Yet their personalities and attitudes were often in opposition; Nadia was more willing to forgive and maintain hope, while Sydney was more often the bitter one, holding on to every grudge.

Over time, it seemed as though the main characters were being consciously split in terms of allegiance to Sydney and Nadia. The pact between Jack and Sloane, meant to protect both daughters, would be strained as one or the other of the sisters would need to be sent into harm’s way. Sloane’s true aims were always in question, and even Jack’s decisions were revealed as manipulated by an outside source. The disparate plot points all converged with Yelena and the revelation that she was behind nearly everything unexplained since the pilot episode. By then, of course, the split among the characters had evolved into something less easily recognized but equally intriguing.

The point, of course, was to give Nadia a support system, to make her comfortable enough to ignore Sydney’s warnings. It was reasonable to predict, after Nadia found her every assumption ripped apart when Sophia/Yelena betrayed her and Sloane seemingly abandoned her for Rambaldi, that she would start to fall apart psychologically. Jack and Sydney then revealed their own deceptions, and even after Irina returned to help the two sisters defeat Yelena, Irina’s history with Sydney (problematic as it was) had to be hard to reconcile. In essence, Nadia had every reason to feel betrayed by everything in her life, her good nature and forgiveness proven foolish.

All of this could have served as the logical underpinning for a dark turn in her character. As written, the writers have Nadia battle Sydney while under the influence of the Mueller device; her own volition is completely meaningless. Sydney isn’t fighting her sister so much as an automaton with Nadia’s face. It’s not the culmination of a long-term psychological breakdown, but rather, a plot convenience designed to achieve the goal of a showdown in the shortest time possible.

The circumstances of the battle between sisters fits the prophecies of Rambaldi, but it seems to have been modified to allow for the shortened time frame created by Lena Olin’s availability. Nadia becomes, in essence, the “living embodiment” of Rambaldi’s devices, and Sydney saves the world by destroying Rambaldi’s endgame (thus essentially resolving the situation created by her fulfillment of the original Chosen One prophecy).

But the prophecy states that one of the sisters will perish at the hands of the other, and that doesn’t happen. Even if one interprets Nadia’s infection as a kind of “death”, Sydney wasn’t the one who made that happen. Yelena infected Nadia. More to the point, Nadia was closer to killing Sydney than the other way around, and Sloane intervened. It really shouldn’t have been that simple to derail something that had been predicted and staged over the course of centuries!

Some have suggested that Sydney and Nadia weren’t, in fact, the Chosen One and The Passenger, but rather, Irina and Yelena were. After all, the two sisters did end up doing final battle over the fate of the world, and Irina killed Yelena. Irina was also originally thought to be the Chosen One in the Page 47 prophecy. But the writers also firmly established that Nadia was The Passenger, so that kind of fit would be a disastrous ret-con with no real value. It would be easier to have Nadia die and then be resuscitated, thus fulfilling the prophecy but allowing Nadia to live on, ala Buffy at the end of the first season of that series.

But it didn’t have to happen the way it was written. Nadia could have been left behind by the others in a way that unintentionally made her feel abandoned. This could have been the final straw; imagine a pitched battle against the infected Russians, sending her into a primal survival mode and psychologically broken. Such a situation could have realistically given Yelena the chance to convince Nadia that she was, in fact, the only one she could trust, given their history.

That would have placed Nadia in the right position to oppose Sydney’s efforts to derail Yelena’s plans, thus setting up a real battle between the two sisters of equal ability. It would have fit everything established during the rest of the season, and it would have forced Sloane to expose his true intentions earlier, perhaps in some attempt to stop Nadia. Nadia herself could have wounded Sloane, leaving him alive to survive the apocalypse but unable to stop Yelena in the process.

Granted, this would have resulted, most likely, in Nadia’s death. But it wouldn’t have to be the case. After Irina and Yelena have their little showdown, Irina could have gone to the roof to help Sydney disarm the Mueller device, and thus she could have been the one to stop Nadia, even at the cost of her own life. Imagine how being the true cause of Irina’s death would have affected Nadia; it could, under those hypothetical circumstances, forced her to see where her assumptions have taken her, thus “breaking the spell”.

Instead, while the Rambaldi prophecy may ultimately prove fulfilled, it’s not as well-structured an ending as it could have been. Perhaps some of the cut material would make it seem a bit less contrived and ill-considered. It’s equally possible that the writers conceived of this ending as a way to wrap up the major plot threads should this be the final season. It’s quite possible that this is not the end of the Rambaldi mythology at all, but rather, just the end of Yelena’s part in it.

After all, there are some aspects of the Rambaldi mythology that haven’t been explained. The first is the most obvious: Yelena’s Covenant was under the belief that Sydney was supposed to bear the genetic descendent of Rambaldi as the Chosen One. Was that truly derailed? Perhaps Yelena thought it was, but then, her endgame was to wipe out humanity and start things over in the Rambaldi image. It’s possible that this aspect of the mythology was never taken off the table.

There’s also the small matter of the Sphere of Life and the assembly of the Rambaldi artifact itself. The Sphere of Life was supposed to house the consciousness, essence, and soul of Rambaldi. How does that fit with a really big version of the Circumference? The fact is that it simply doesn’t. The Nightingale coil fits as a power source, and the ability of the Nightingale coil to alter things on a genetic level fits the concept of the “infected”. But there’s nothing to suggest that the Sphere of Life was a part of the Mueller device or Yelena’s scheme to reboot the species.

What does make sense, from Yelena’s point of view, is wiping out the bulk of the violent humanity, and then making sure that the survivors are laced with the compliance drug from Rambaldi’s orchid. Who better to rule over this new humanity than Rambaldi himself? And that means having a body to infuse his “consciousness, essence, and soul” into, which the plot from “Full Disclosure” would adequately explain.

So even if Yelena is dead and the threat of the end of the world is over, Rambaldi doesn’t have to be. In fact, it shouldn’t be. The world population has been laced with the pacification formula, so someone could still step in and complete Sloane’s work, just without the taste for Armageddon. That someone could also want to take custody of Sydney and implant a Rambaldi child in her womb, so that Rambaldi can be reborn using the device created using the Sphere of Life. And if all of those things are still on the table, then the final showdown between Sydney and Nadia may still be a future event.

For all that, it’s still impressive that the writers were able to pull the Rambaldi mythology into a logical context, given the challenges presented by the third season’s lack of focus. It’s simply a matter of sitting down, figuring out which elements are still not covered, and using them as pieces of the puzzle for the fifth (and likely final) season. If Jen Garner is indeed pregnant, that actually works well in terms of addressing the remaining elements of the Rambaldi endgame. The writers would have enough time to give Nadia a more satisfying reason for opposing Sydney.

While the final scene does provide an easy way to keep Sydney off her feet in the early episodes of the fifth season (and also how someone could implant an embryo without her knowledge), the revelation about Vaughn seems to be tacked on to the series mythology. Whatever Vaughn’s true identity might be, it’s something that only Irina has managed to uncover, and it’s not something that Irina considers threatening to her daughter.

One possibility is that Vaughn is a descendent of Rambaldi and that he discovered this some time ago, all without anyone knowing. This would be impressive, since Vaughn’s covert activities in the past have never been that well executed. Was his original assignment to Sydney contrived without his knowledge, or was he “in on it”? For this to be a minor issue, it would have to be the former; Sydney would never be able to trust Vaughn if he’s been lying to her from the start.

In terms of when Vaughn would have found out, it makes sense that it would have happened while he was running around trying to find out about his father and his connection to everything. Vaughn didn’t know about the Rambaldi connection at the end of the third season, so it had to happen after that point. For that matter, Irina would have been aware of Vaughn’s manipulation by Yelena, and thus would have discovered what none of the others at APO could have known.

But what would that mean? An obvious thought would be that Vaughn was manipulated to be with Sydney as a failsafe for introducing Rambaldi DNA to the Chosen One. Thus some might interpret his relationship with Sydney as a negative thing, ignoring the fact that he had little choice in how he was maneuvered. Sydney herself might find herself conflicted between her love for Vaughn and the knowledge that being with him was, from a certain point of view, imposed.

Remarkably, despite the many things going against it, this finale was a far more satisfying ending than the third season finale. It was probably on par with the second season finale. It may not have been as strong as it could have been, but at least initially, it was satisfying and completely not what anyone was expecting at the beginning of the season. And frankly, that’s why it works, despite its flaws.

What JJ Abrams wanted to accomplish with this season was rather plain: recast the third season in a better light while also bringing the series back to the tortured family dynamic that ruled the series in its earlier days. To do that (and hopefully bring in new viewers), he hired writers from Joss Whedon’s Mutant Enerny production company, writers who knew how to start a season with stand-alone episodes and end it with a heavily serialized yet highly consistent plot arc.

The early episodes were exactly what the network wanted: often stand-alone, almost interchangeable (they took that to an extreme). JJ got what he wanted: a chance to establish the psychology of the characters and their inter-relationships so that the rest of the season would work far better. While a few of those episodes were weak, much of the problem was related to the network’s level of interference.

Around the middle of the season, things changed. The plot arc, right on time, kicked in. And suddenly it wasn’t just closer to the way “Alias” should be; it was better than most of the third season. More than that, the writers were taking on the mistakes of the past with a dedication to make things right, not unlike the writers of “Angel” had done at the end of the fourth season of that series. While there were still some plot holes, they were smaller than the ones that were replaced. For the fans that stuck with the series through the somewhat perplexing and annoyingly standard early episodes of the season, it was quite the thrill ride.

As already mentioned, the writers aren’t done yet. They can’t simply ignore the remaining issues and act like everything has been resolved. Yelena’s plan was not Rambaldi’s plan, and that should be recognized. Nor should Sloane’s effort to find redemption be ignored. Sloane is easily one of the best characters on television right now, and while he was a great villain for so long, he is equally compelling as a man fighting his own demons. With Nadia out of commission, Sloane’s fight to keep away from Rambaldi should take the forefront again, especially if Sydney ends up being under the Rambaldi microscope once again.

Ultimately, the second half of the season made this season at least as compelling, by the final few weeks, as the second season. It wasn’t as consistently good, thanks to the early meddling by the network, but it was definitely more focused and plotted out than the third season. If this season did much to redeem the third season and its weak points, then the fifth season must also deal with the issues that couldn’t be covered or don’t quite fit. Whatever the case, that final scene ought to give the fans plenty to take about until the fall!


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode faced a lot of challenges, and the writers did a good job with what they were given. The final product, forced into a shorter running time than anticipated, felt like a highlight reel, and the result was sometimes simplistic in terms of dialogue and execution. That said, it was great to see a number of plot and character threads come together, and that final scene opens the door for an interesting fifth season.

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

Final Rating: 7/10

Season 4 Final Average: 7.7

Lost 1.24/25: "Exodus II"

Written by Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse
Directed by Jack Bender

In which the danger to Claire’s baby comes from an unexpected source, while the survivors raid Black Rock for explosives to open the hatch and those on the raft hit unexpected trouble…


Status Report

Now that the first season is over and the writers have effectively stunned or pissed off everyone in the audience, it’s worth taking a moment to consider what this finale says about the series and its approach to storytelling. Not the fact that character study is considered more important than simple plot progression; that’s been well established by now, and those who don’t get it aren’t going to be convinced. It’s something a little more subtle.

It’s one of those odd television conceits that the general audience, even when watching a story with deceptive individuals, take characters at their word. This is especially true when there are shadowy events taking place where secrets are traditionally kept and lies are traditionally par for the course. For some reason, the idea that people lie, especially those with questionable motives, doesn’t translate to the television audience.

Part of the problem is that people expect a clue or revelation to be an absolute, objective piece of whatever puzzle they want to solve. When there’s precious little information to work with, every little scrap becomes golden. But just like in real life, if characters are conceived and portrayed with human qualities, they don’t reveal the whole truth. In fact, they sometimes see things from such a skewed perspective that the idea of objectivity is wholly inappropriate.

Some viewers, upon learning that information previously revealed may not be true, cry foul. To them, it’s evidence that the writers are changing their story and playing games with the audience. In some cases, that’s true. But in others, it’s equally clear that the writers are intentionally playing on expectation and assumption. They present a character like Locke, show him as a bit unstable in “Walkabout”, and then have fun watching the audience continue to take him at face value and then complain when he does something unusual.

Similarly, this episode reveals that Danielle may not have been entirely honest with Sayid or Hurley when telling her story. When the details change, it’s quite possible that it’s not clarification, so much as a mixture of paranoid reinvention and outright revisionism. The writers spend quite a bit of time presenting her apparent case, and then they quickly pull the rug out from under everyone.

Here’s the thing: Charlie interprets the fact that there were no footprints or signs of life at the fire, and Danielle’s presence there, as a sign that she was the one setting the fires all along. Charlie states this opinion so vehemently that it has the bearing and appearance of truth. But it’s also quite clearly not true; the “others” are real, and they did in fact “take the boy”. Danielle misinterpreted what she overheard, and the fact that she’s hearing voices (like those she killed in the first place) doesn’t help matters. Add to that her complicity in Claire’s abduction, to some unknown extent, and Danielle’s motives are thrown back into uncertain territory.

Some are already claiming that this is a sign of bad writing, that all of this is somehow born of a desire to mess with the audience rather than remain consistent. Maybe so, but is that really the only explanation? Isn’t it far more likely, given the character dynamics already present, that the writers intentionally blurred the lines between objective truth and subjective belief? Taken in context with the “numbers” and the debate between Jack and Locke, doesn’t everything surrounding Danielle fit that theme?

For quite some time, there has been debate about whether or not the hatch and its place in the story is just another example of the writers’ evil intentions. This is nonsense. The hatch may have its place as a plot element, providing the initial starting point for the events of the second season, but it’s far more important in a symbolic sense. Locke’s comment about finding “hope” inside is a direct reference to the myth of Pandora’s Box. Similarly, hope may be inside, but the plot is more likely to center on whatever Very Bad Thing is unleashed at the same time.

The hatch, in the first season at least, was more important as a device for exposing the darker side of Locke’s psychology. That, in turn, led to the situation in which Boone was killed. That led to a number of subsequent character revelations. In that sense, the hatch could have been anything mysterious and just out of reach. All it had to be was something of intense value to Locke; the rest becomes something to explore after the consequences of its discovery are fully explored.

Similarly, the “numbers” were never supposed to be explained by the end of the season. That much is abundantly clear. Instead, what’s important is what the “numbers” represent. The “numbers” are a sign that there may be something more than random chance at work in the world. The exact nature of the “numbers” and their meaning may eventually be explained, but it’s the concept of the “numbers” that has meaning now.

Consider the possibility that the “numbers”, from a purely metaphorical point of view, express a kind of chaos theory, in that they are the evidence of the order within seemingly random events. The “numbers” keep coming up; that’s what holds importance. It happens just enough to eliminate any impression of pure chance, but at the same time, there’s a lack of a direct source. Is it that someone else, in the past, noticed that the “numbers” keep appearing under certain circumstances, and thus those “numbers” were under study?

The “numbers” join the “white/black stones” and other symbols on the series as representative of the philosophical world in which the characters reside. The first season boils down to a question of objective reality (science) vs. subjective belief (faith), and in such a discussion, symbols and apparent patterns are incredibly important. Those concerned with objective reality look at the patterns and seek the objective and impersonal source. Those concerned with subjective belief look at the patterns and seek the meaning behind them, assuming a design (and often, a place in that design).

Jack wants to open the hatch because, based on the information at his disposal, he believes it to be the best chance for survival against an unknown and possibly unbeatable enemy. He weighs the risk and makes the call. Locke, on the other hand, wants to open the hatch because he’s certain that it will bring everyone on the island that much closer to understanding their purpose. And like the shaman with the unshakeable belief, he’s certain that the tribal leader will ultimately come to understand the path to true enlightenment.

The writers, of course, have made the case that there is something more than random chance involved, and Locke’s not the only one to make that observation. Hurley and Sayid have also noted the oddities surrounding the crash and how things appear connected, and so that lends credence to the idea that there is, at some level, an objective ability to recognize some kind of design. So the question turns back to the source, and what the various clues on the island reveal.

If the “monster” is some kind of “security system” (again, from Danielle’s subjective point of view), then what was it designed to protect? One reason that the writers have held back details regarding the “monster” could simply be that its nature might give away too much, too quickly. What is clear is that the “monster” is not itself visible, but that its movements can be traced by what it leaves behind. It sounds mechanical, and it also appears to operate underground much of the time. (And given that the hatch leads underground, that’s a little unnerving.)

But like the hatch and the “numbers”, the “monster” has more use at this stage as something symbolic. For Jack, the “monster” is an unseen and unknown threat, pure and simple. For Locke, it’s a representation of the powerful voice of the island. What the “monster” is pales next to what the “monster” means to the characters. Clearly it has a nature and purpose, but beyond that, the characters struggle to understand how it fits into their world view.

The “others” fit into the same category, but in that case, there is something more to work with when making assumptions regarding nature and motive. The “others” work on one level as a concept, the expression of the unknown, outside threat that is also disturbingly familiar. More than that, they are the “others” with an apparently deeper understanding of what might be at stake. They could be operating under a similar delusion as Locke, but if the presence of an underlying pattern is considered a given, and the extent of it being the only question, then this episode confirms that Walt and his abilities are connected to that pattern.

The “others” themselves can be the remnant of any number of previous “tribes”: the descendants of the Black Rock passengers, the descendants of some research team that began the transmission of the “numbers”, Danielle’s old crew (that she only thought she killed, perhaps), or (less likely) the other survivors of Oceanic 815 that Boone contacted. That they come from the island is, for all intent purposes, a given.

Danielle definitely overheard the “others”; how that was possible is another story. The suggestion is that they live underground, in whatever tunnel system the hatch may or may not lead to. If the “monster” is part of an underground security system, do the “others” live within the apparent tunnels? This would lend credence to the idea that they are either part of the group that created the “monster” or a group that has taken control of the technology. They have a boat, which is interesting information; the column of smoke was apparently a means of navigation They may also have Alex; she might have been the young woman who tossed that explosive device into the raft.

That covers speculation as to their nature; their motive is even less defined. They seem to be connected, via Claire, to the psychic’s premonition in “Raised by Another”. But now Walt is a target, which seems to connect that episode with “Special”. The natural assumption is that the underlying order behind the “numbers” is connected in some way to the abilities Walt possesses and Aaron may have, if he has abilities at all. There’s some kind of psychic, paranormal level to the universe of “Lost”, so in the end, the “others” are operating under some (apparently) common understanding of it.

Behind it all is the ongoing impression of a higher power, controlling or guiding events, perhaps as a means of evaluating the survivors under extreme conditions. Taken in a meta-fictional context, the writers are doing exactly that. But is there a “higher power” in the narrative, and if so, was it found? Or are the “numbers” some representation of that power that someone discovered, something that (as the audience now recognizes) jumps out as a pattern once mentioned, but seems innocent taken out of that context?

Here’s an interesting speculation: are the hatch and “monster” artifacts of some scientific expedition meant to find the meaning behind the “numbers” themselves? Is it possible that the answer was never found, and thus the meaning of the “numbers” resides in how each characters chooses to react to the design they reveal? Do the “numbers” serve to represent, to a certain extent, the larger belief in “God”?

Locke believes that “the island” has a purpose for all of them, and that their survival is not an accident. Locke represents an extreme level of belief in a predetermined universe (he and Arvin Sloane would have some interesting conversations, to be sure); he is the fanatical shaman in every respect. Hurley has a similar belief in the “numbers”, but in his case, they are an expression of fickle, almost cruel fate. Sun looks at the pattern of experience and wonders if the survivors are on the island to be punished for their previous mistakes. Locke would likely agree, since he sees the island as a path to self-enlightenment, the means of becoming who they were all meant to be.

If one takes the meta-fictional point of view, then this finale serves to show just how much the island has changed the characters. It’s not, as some have claimed, just a way to rehash old information and waste time. As this season has aptly demonstrated, the story is about how the past impacts the present and therefore the future for each and every character, sometimes in unexpected combination. If one considers the title of the series to be more philosophical, describing where these characters are in a psychological and even spiritual sense, then this is appropriately not a question of “where this is all going”, but rather, “how they get there”. The point of the journey is not to arrive.

As such, it’s actually quite important to consider how far Jack has come in terms of leadership. He has always had all the potential in the world, but he had those infamous “daddy issues”. Sawyer gave him reason to get over it in the first part of the finale, and now he’s asserting a bit more confidence. That self-realization, of course, has also diminished Locke’s power over him, which comes on the heels of the doubt engendered by Locke’s decisions regarding Boone. Jack is becoming a leader just when one is becoming vitally important.

Kate doesn’t necessarily like that side of Jack, but then again, she has issues with voices of authority as a whole. Herein lies the problem: the doctor and selflessness in Jack reminds Kate of Tom, and she loves that, but the leader in Jack reminds her of the authority figures that have betrayed her time and again. Jack’s not the only one with “daddy issues”, after all. Kate wants to feel like she’s in control, and so far, she’s only found that level of certainty when she’s on her own. Kate has a lot to get over before she finds peace, if ever.

On the other hand, Jack shouldn’t feel too comfortable, because there’s another capable leader with no great love or trust for Locke in the person of Sayid. Sayid is also more suited, it seems, to the quick and dirty field medicine that the survivors are going to need. Sayid has no reason to question Jack’s judgment at this point, but that could quickly change if things go badly with that open hatch. Sayid was dead set against opening it, after all, and that could be meaningful. It would have been nice to get a better idea of his thoughts on Nadia, since “Solitary” and “The Greater Good” seemed to be in contradiction as to her fate, but his apparent reunion with Shannon was enough for now.

Claire and her son are propelled into the forefront of the story when Danielle abducts Aaron. Aaron is an interesting name (the Biblical connection to Exodus alone could be meaningful), though why Charlie reacted so strongly to that news is unclear. This is the episode where Claire’s trust in Charlie is cemented, and so of course, it’s also the episode where Charlie finds a motherlode of heroin and temptation. The “others” may have used Aaron as a decoy this time around (as did the writers), but in the future, Charlie’s possible reversion to addiction could be that much more tragic.

Hurley remains the comic relief, but his tortured side comes out as well. Beyond the hapless streak of extremely bad luck, there’s the soul that has to endure it all. And frankly, Hurley seems to be picking up on the momentum of dread that has gathered over the course of the season. He covers it with wry observations and a comic timing that is beyond perfect, but when he sees those “numbers” on the outside of the hatch, his fear is primal. That fact makes Locke’s decision to proceed despite the warnings that much more damning; Locke might know exactly how bad it’s going to be.

While Sun was around for some useful philosophy, Locke takes the cake for throwing down the intellectual gauntlet. When Locke expressed his point of view regarding Boone’s death, that it was a sacrifice that the island demanded, the depth of his personal need to believe was fully revealed. Locke’s entire life has brought him to the point where having a purpose is the only thing keeping him relatively sane; if the experience on the island is revealed as random or coincidental, Locke could lose his mind even more than he already has.

Out on the raft, Sawyer’s reason for being on the raft is revealed as something of a death wish. After “Outlaws”, it’s not hard to see why that’s the case. He loathes himself and every choice he’s made in his life, and he can’t seem to escape the momentum of his choices. Depending on how badly he’s wounded, Sawyer may get his moment of revelation when he finds himself struggling to survive, suddenly wanting to live, if only for revenge.

Michael is faced with perhaps the most terrifying moment since his son left his life in “Special”. The “others” were obviously keeping a close eye on the survivors, so they knew when the raft was ready to launch and made sure it would. It was easy to forget that Ethan was able to use the water to infiltrate the survivors’ camp, and thus forget that those on the raft weren’t safe. But once that blip on the radar came along, it was easy enough to recognize what was coming. Thus Michael loses Walt after learning that his son is the most important thing in his life.

Jin was revealed as running from his life of crime in “…In Translation”, so it comes as a relative shock when that escape turns out to be much harder than it seems. It really places Jin and Sun on the same level; both were at a serious crossroads thanks to earlier choices, and both were choosing to remain in their metaphorical cages until the island gave them the power to choose freely. It’s a testimony to Jin honorable nature that he dedicated his life to getting Sun the life she deserves, and that he didn’t hesitate to jump into the water to save Sawyer.

That said, all three of them are in deep, deep trouble. They were 15 miles from the island when they encountered the “others”, and they have no transport, no shelter, no food, and no water. Unless something unexpected happens, they don’t have a prayer. Of course, if the “others” aren’t the other survivors of Oceanic 815, then it’s possible that those potential other survivors will be the ones to find Michael, Jin, and/or Sawyer. But this is a very easy time to lose a cast member.

Central to this episode is Danielle’s psychology, which is warped, to say the least. It seems simple enough to say that Danielle thought that the “others” were coming for Aaron, so she thought she might make a trade for her Alex. The implication is that she was still thinking of Alex as a baby, but who can say? The real question is how she was implicated in Claire’s abduction. Did she help Claire get away, or was she trying to take Claire back to the “others”?

This episode, despite being double-length, still managed to cover more material than one would have expected. An enormous amount of plot is covered, whether critics want to acknowledge it or not. The dynamic between Locke, Jack, Kate, and Hurley could have been an episode in and of itself, but it was only part of the story. The Sayid/Charlie thread coincided nicely with the slow build towards disaster on the raft. Add to that the flashbacks, and this was quite dense.

It also goes a long way towards demonstrating why the writers need to focus on a single character during the regular episodes. The finale widened the focus to all the regulars, and while it came together well, it also left the audience hungering for more. Each character brings a fresh perspective to events on the island, and the collective disagreements and motives are what make the series work.

With so many complaining about the pacing of the plot (ignoring the true focus of the series in the process), it’s easy to forget that this has been an extraordinary first season. Only a few episodes didn’t work as well as they could have, and none of them were entirely disastrous. This season gets a solid mark of excellence, and more shows should focus on character and consequences to the same degree. Then again, it could be that this is just the right writing team for the right concept, and it wouldn’t work under different circumstances. Hopefully, the producers won’t back down and sacrifice the integrity of the story in favor of pleasing the fickle masses.


Final Analysis

Overall, the finale ends with a number of unexpected moments of pure narrative joy. While the fate of those on the raft could have been predicted, another plot thread effectively diverted attention away from the fairly obvious. Small revelations in plot were more than matched by strong character development, especially pertaining to what could be the central philosophical debate at the heart of the series. In the end, this is the perfect ending to one of the best seasons of television in recent memory.

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

Final Rating: 9/10

Season 1 Final Average: 8.1

24 4.24: "Day 4: 6AM - 7AM"

Written by Robert Cochran and Howard Gordon
Directed by Jon Cassar

In which CTU manages to get a lead on Marwan, ending the terrorist threat, but Jack cannot escape the consequences of his previous decisions, forcing him to make a surprising choice…


Status Report

As season finales go, this one is rather unique for “24”. The writers have flirted with cliffhangers in the past, but the most obvious example was a presidential assassination that was never given a true resolution. While this is hardly a true cliffhanger in the traditional sense, this is a season-long novel that ends with a definitive air of unfinished business. Jack may be walking down that track without looking back (or even calling his daughter), but there’s no doubt that it’s an interim situation. Sooner or later, Jack will be back, and this finale sets the stage for his return.

For a moment, the writers seem to return to that assassination, now more than four years earlier in the series’ continuity, perhaps to remind the audience that finales are a time of serious change. Not only that, but the fate of the nation rests on Palmer’s capacity for forgiveness. Palmer comes to his decision quickly and decisively, and in that moment, he makes it clear why he’s not the careless fool that Logan keeps calling him.

In the same moment, Mandy’s possible return is secured. There’s no telling how much trouble she could cause in the future. Having a clean legal slate is quite the gift for remaining flexible with one’s loyalties, and Mandy gets a chance to savor that deal with a long life, having sent Jack in Marwan’s direction. (Anyone else notice that Mia still looked damn good, despite the fact that she was supposed to be soundly beaten?)

Before long, the showdown begins. Instead of spending half the episode on helicopter stunts, the writers simply have Jack disable Marwan’s getaway vehicle and then transfer the action to the ground, where it belongs. Marwan gets the chance to destroy his PDA first, of course, but not entirely. The action moves into a parking garage (of course), and that’s when the fun really begins.

This being the season finale, death and change are par for the course. This is the final 20 pages of the book entitled “24: Day 4”, and the audience can’t count on anything. When Curtis takes a couple shots, it’s hard not to cringe, waiting for the head shot. It doesn’t come, but that’s because the writers have something even worse in mind. Rather than risk capture, Marwan tosses himself off the side of the parking garage. Not even Jack’s willpower can change the outcome, and since the warhead is on the way and Marwan has no intention of stopping it, it’s just a matter of time (and really bad digital effects).

Logan, showing his recent penchant for random madness, screams at Palmer for Marwan’s death. It’s not that Marwan was a zealot with every intention of letting Los Angeles bathe in nuclear fire; it’s that CTU and Palmer didn’t do enough to get Marwan to give up his evil ways. Of course, things go from bad to worse when the acting Chinese consul calls up with news of Agent Bern’s confession. Jack is now fully implicated, and the Logan administration is forced into “plausible deniability” mode.

Logan’s security aide (Cummings) not only questions Jack’s integrity, but figures that a bullet to the brain might be the most expedient solution. Palmer and Mike are suitably horrified, especially when Logan sounds less than convincing in his refusal to advocate assassination. But one thing is very clear: for once, Jack is going to have to face the consequences of proposing and carrying out one of his little black ops for Palmer. It actually brings the entire history of Jack Bauer and David Palmer full circle.

With the impending destruction of Jack’s career and possible life now on the table, the writers take all of five minutes to recover Marwan’s data from his PSP, generate a flight path (gee, LA, anyone?), and then blow the missile out of the sky. One thing is interesting to note: Jack claims that the warhead would be programmed to detonate upon impact with its target. That’s not usually the case. Nuclear warheads are far more destructive if they detonate at a certain altitude above the ground, prior to impact. Either Marwan and his people didn’t have that technology available, or the writers wanted to dance around that fact.

Upon their reunion, Tony is quickly forgiving of Michelle for her choice to place the fate of the nation above his survival. That doesn’t exactly come as a surprise, considering the fact that Tony has been doing exactly that all season long. But in this case, letting Michelle’s choice go is the key to getting the woman’s heart, so it’s probably a very easy decision for him to make.

On the other end of the relationship spectrum, Audrey does her version of letting Jack down gently. In typical fashion, it’s closer to ripping out Jack’s guts and making him feel like it’s all his fault for saving the world while going out with her. To be fair, Jack’s version of “doing his job” involves torturing her loved ones, among many others, and breaking international law. It might not be so hard to see things from her point of view! But that said, she’s ignoring the fact that he clearly loathes making those kinds of choices, and he wants to escape the trap that his life has become.

This begins laying down the foundation for the metaphor that ends the season. The trap of CTU soon promises to be nothing compared to the trap of his own choices: the Chinese prison where he is likely to be tortured and questioned in ways that are probably very similar to his own methods. Suddenly being trapped in CTU World doesn’t sound quite so bad, and Jack is trying to work out how saving the world has led to his own world being reduced to a cage.

That’s bad enough, but then Cummings turns around and does exactly what Logan told him not to do. Well, that’s the case if one ignores the mighty big wink that Logan gave Cummings when he forbade assassination tactics. So Jack moves from a metaphorical trap to an actual cage to the literal end of his life, all in a matter of moments.

Thanks to Novick, Palmer learns about Cummings’ plot and gets to confront Logan about the order. It becomes increasingly clear that Logan has both a very short memory and a similarity to Nixon that is purely intentional. Logan acts as though Palmer is losing his mind, when it’s actually closer to the truth to say that Logan is letting power go to his head. If he was doing his best George III impression when things looked entirely grim, he’s Caligula when things are going well, and Palmer has seen more than enough.

He warns Jack, of course, who has to be wondering what’s coming next in the “Dump on Jack” parade. In the space of a few minutes, Jack has to come up with a plan, and sure enough, Tony’s right there in the room, waiting for something heroic to do. Everyone who breathed a sigh of relief at the end of the previous episode was no doubt going back into cardiac arrest, because last minute favors in season finales are usually a very, very bad thing.

Perhaps most impressive is how quickly Jack and Tony formulate their plan, especially since Michelle and Chloe are in on it. (This is the crack team that couldn’t work out a cover up with 20 minutes of lead time, but faking a death in three minutes?) Sure! Surprisingly, Tony manages to deflect any hint of culpability by being the one to order the lockdown in the first place. Everything he does is designed to expose the true intentions of the Secret Service agent and give Jack time to prepare for his ruse.

During the final showdown, the writers really tease the possibility that Tony will be shot and killed, perhaps even in the process of letting Jack get away. But the situation is a bit more complex. Jack takes something that allows him to simulate death (where he got that in three minutes is hard to grasp, but this is metaphor, people!), and with a bit of blood poured on the floor to make it convincing, Tony blusters his way through the rest of the act. The agent, apparently all too aware that shooting Jack a few more times might tip his hand, accepts that the job is done.

Jack’s death and revival is meant to be dramatic, and it works as far as the metaphor goes. (Frankly, after Charlie’s death and revival on “Lost” this season, anything similar pales.) Jack’s old life is over, and in the process of being reborn (new identity and everything!), Jack is freed from the prison that his life was threatening to become. He’s a complete fugitive, of course, but at this point, where else was his life going to lead? Jack Bauer had done too much, gone too far, to ever live a normal life. Jack Bauer had to die in order for Jack Bauer to live.

Were the writers intending for the audience to feel pity for Audrey? If so, it’s a little late. For all that Audrey’s behavior could be understood in context, she seemed to ignore the fact that she knew Jack’s past and the kind of man he was; indeed, she supports her father without question, and he was always in line with Jack’s take on events. Perhaps she feels a bit responsible, believing that it was her rejection that led to his decision to go down fighting, but it’s still very hard to give her sympathy.

The final scenes of the episode are an interesting setup. Tony and Michelle seem to be leaving CTU together, looking forward to a bright future without the dangers and decisions that drove them apart. But really, on this series, does that ever last? Jack’s own experience should serve as a warning: sooner or later, the life will catch up with them. It’s really just a matter of whether or not Jack’s the one who comes calling.

The conversation between Palmer and Jack is a nice way to end the episode, but it may be more than just an end to a long and difficult friendship. It could very well be a hint of the direction of the next season. Palmer is now well aware of how unstable Logan is, and it could quickly become a problem if Logan lets power get to his head. Jack may have been reborn into a new life, but really, how long is that likely to last?

Jack is actually in a position to discover, to his immense dismay, that he’s no longer suited to the real world. He’s also the perfect black ops agent, because he’s now officially dead. How long will it be before one of the few people aware of his status comes looking for him, some crisis waiting in the wings? It wouldn’t be at all surprising if Palmer was the one coming around, perhaps because of knowledge of something Logan has done or is planning to do. In fact, if Jack had to help Palmer deal with a corrupt Logan in the fifth season, it could eventually lead to the truth about the Chinese consul’s death (at least the Logan administration’s part in it) and Jack’s ability to return to his old life.

If this had been the end of the series, the metaphor of rebirth would have been a good way to wrap up the various character threads. But the writers were aware of the renewal chances and planted the seeds for the fifth season. While this could ultimately undermine the strength of the metaphor in favor of more action-packed insanity, it’s part of the trade-off. The series as it exists cannot continue without Jack at its center. That was the decision of the producers and network a long time ago, and if that means Jack is never going to find true happiness, then so be it.

Looking back on the fourth season, the producers and writers were remarkably open about their challenges and limitations. Even before the season began, they admitted that their plans to stay ahead of schedule were quickly overwhelmed by real world issues. Instead of having weeks to work out the kinks in the story and develop proper depth, the writers were stuck with writing scenes literally hours before they were filmed. Sometimes, they had even less time. Looking back, it’s not hard to see when that strain finally became too much to handle.

After four seasons, have the writers learned anything? As the season marched on, more episodes were written by non-producers, which seemed to help take off the edge. They’ve hired a couple new faces for the fifth season, writer/producers with a strong track record of writing excellent episodes in short order. In terms of pulling together the right team to deal with a similar crisis, the work’s been done.

But the pattern of this season is suggestive. The first few episodes were a bit too obviously “staged”; it was too easy to see where the writers wanted each episode to end, and everything was designed to achieve that goal. In other words, it wasn’t very organic or natural in terms of narrative flow.

As the lead time quickly disappeared, the writers let that pressure drive them into a somewhat chaotic excellence. As the interest in the Araz family, especially the complex Dina, grew with every passing week, the writers took the opportunity to give the story new layers of meaning and subtext. The oft-depicted moral relativity of CTU was contrasted with the terrorists’ moral equivocation. It wasn’t just about stopping terrorists; it was about how counter-terrorism can corrupt the morality of those implementing extreme measures for national security: the hunter becomes that which he hunts.

As long as the writers could keep their eyes on the impending nuclear meltdown scenario and play off the audience’s interest in Dina Araz, they were able to keep up the momentum. When that plot thread came to an end, however, the writers stumbled hard. It was no longer a symmetrical race against time; it was one side hunting down the other, always several steps behind. Thus the plot was always dependent on how smart or stupid the terrorists were; CTU always had to be that much less aware of the situation. Not only did that force the writers to toss in ridiculous and often contradictory roadblocks (usually of the relationship type), but it wiped out most of the strong sources of layered storytelling and metaphor.

This seems to happen every season, but in this case, the lull turned into an extended drought. If this season is only average in the end, it’s because the storytelling never rose above the quality of a weekly popcorn movie. “24” is, at its most basic level, exactly that; however, it has also been used for character study and social/political commentary. This season had less of that than ever before, and the majority of that weakness is directly related to the writers’ lack of lead time. When it’s a struggle to deliver just the basic plot points one time, the extras tend to fall to the wayside.

Most of the time, the layered narrative is the result of character development. Most of that was confined to relationship issues this season, and those tend to be very self-contained. Contrast this season of “24” to this season of “Alias”; the difference is mostly a question of character study. Granted, it’s a lot easier when every episode can adjust theme and content to facilitate the drama, but “Alias” was also dealing with the challenge of taking four seasons worth of continuity and pulling them together. This season of “24” didn’t begin impacting the characters in a definitive way until late in the game.

Once the writers caught up, right around the time of the biggest plot twist of the season (terribly telegraphed), the depth also returned. It wasn’t just about the action anymore; now there were mounting consequences for all the choices made when the ends seemed to justify the means. While those consequences were sometimes over the top in execution, there was a real sense of eroding luck. The missing tension was suddenly back, and here and there, the writers pulled a couple of unexpected character moments and reintroductions out of the bag.

Thus the season was able to end on something of a high note, which was seriously in doubt. As already mentioned, if the writing staff has truly buckled down and taken the task of plotting things out more carefully to heart, the fifth season could justify the investment that FOX has made. They need to remember that the goal is not simply to have an action-packed season of thrill-ride proportions; it’s also about telling a story and giving the audience a reason to care. The new writing staff has a strong reputation, and one can only hope that they live up to it.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is a good ending to a rather uneven season. Oddly enough, while there’s a strong metaphor running through the entire episode, the fact that there’s a fifth (and even sixth) season already ordered steals some of the emotional power from the final scene. Some of the visual effects were strangely weak for an episode meant for big ratings, but the story is strong enough to overcome that flaw. It should be interesting to see how the writers handle things next season!

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Season 4 Final Average: 6.9

24 4.23: "Day 4: 5AM - 6AM"

Written by Sam Montgomery
Directed by Jon Cassar

In which Mandy holds Tony hostage, holding off CTU as she uses Michelle to get her way, while time runs out to stop the nuclear warhead from striking its target…


Status Report

One of the greatest weaknesses of the middle stretch of episodes was its lack of narrative depth. Events were strung together by the barest of threads and character turns were largely dependent on plot contrivances. While that is increasingly the “24” staple, thanks to rather poor management of the writing staff (the producers are the writers, which is often a bad idea), it’s really a question of whether the series is an average action thriller or something more original and intriguing.

What this series often lacks is a sense of consequence. How many times has Jack run counter to the law, only to be given some degree of pardon or absolution in the end? For Jack and his allies, the ends justify the means, and when the writers acknowledge this, the series gains a depth of perspective. On the other hand, when the series champions such thought in a pseudo-conservative puffing of the chest, it comes across as dishonest.

The conceit of playing out a story over a 24-hour period is that extreme situations rarely deliver an immediate fallout. It takes time for choices to yield unintended results. At least, that’s true until one makes a mistake involving a person or organization with enough influence to deliver consequences at a vastly accelerated rate. In this episode, there is a mixture of past choices and consequences and immediate cost, and as with many of the recent episodes, this exploration gives the episode that aforementioned depth.

Michelle is understandably panicked about Tony’s fate, which is not promising, to say the least. If Mandy is anything (beyond intensely attractive, and that sweet but deadly voice!), she’s a cold and brutal assassin. Tony is only useful as a potential bargaining chip, and it doesn’t take her long to discover the rather public information regarding Tony and Michelle. With the deadline approaching, Mandy needs to get away, and Tony’s aid to Saunders in the third season provides the roadmap.

Meanwhile, the nuclear missile proves more or less impossible to detect, which means that it could hit any city in the United States. There is one slight logical flaw to this; once a certain amount of time has passed, the cities within a certain radius of the launch site would no longer be a likely target, since the missile was ostensibly fired in a specific direction. Granted, it makes sense that the general population would panic, and thus riots would break out around the country, but in terms of identifying a target and search grid, it would become increasingly possible to eliminate likely strike zones.

Pointing out Tony’s previous crime also leads to a slight plotting error. It makes perfect sense that Mandy would try to use Michelle and her relationship to Tony as leverage; it doesn’t make sense that Michelle’s cell phone number would be public information. Why wouldn’t CTU issue specific cell phones to their high-level employees with unlisted numbers, specifically to avoid the fact that people are constantly bypassing security by using personal cell phones? (This is only a slight error because personal cell phones have already been used this season, thus establishing that CTU still hasn’t taken precautions!)

In a nice twist, Michelle can’t make the same choice that Tony made. She tells Buchanan about Mandy’s call and helps CTU with the preparations necessary to maintain the ruse that she is, in fact, cooperating. Of course, none of them suspect, given the emotionally charged situation, that Mandy knows very well that Michelle didn’t approve of Tony’s actions. That would have been clear from the same source of information that Mandy used to uncover the connection and circumstance in the first place. So it makes perfect sense that Mandy would use that to her advantage. This is proven out when Mandy immediately goes into seduction mode (having taken on a role to gain the confidence of her neighbors) and takes a couple next door hostage.

President Logan goes back into schizophrenic mode when the Chinese consulate begins ramping up their efforts to identify Jack as the lead agent in the raid a few episodes earlier. The writers have had some issues with Logan’s characterization once his lack of confidence became annoying. After giving David all the power in the previous episode, he’s back to threatening Palmer with dire consequences, tossing out comments about failure. It’s possible that this is all part of a bigger picture, but for now, Logan is looking more than a little unstable.

Of course, Logan has reason to be worried, since the Chinese are apparently better at committing illegal acts on foreign soil than CTU agents. Cheng is just a little too good at getting his hands on Agent Bern, especially since one would expect that the CTU agents originally charged with his protection should have been aware of the potential for trouble. It was way too easy for Bern to be taken into Chinese custody.

Mandy (while looking ultra-fetching in her mini and boots) twists the knife in Michelle’s gut a little bit more, adding to Michelle’s inner turmoil and thus making her threats easy to believe. While CTU isn’t focusing on Tony’s rescue, they are focusing on the idea that Mandy is planning to use Tony as a viable hostage. It’s the picture that this methodology forms in the CTU mindset that Mandy has been trained to anticipate.

Sure enough, it’s only Jack that gets the vague impression that something is wrong when Mandy apparently walks in plain sight with Tony in tow. For one thing, it’s a lot more obvious a ruse than the writers let the characters admit. But Mandy is counting on emotions and anxiety to rule the moment, and that’s exactly what happens. When that car goes up, Michelle’s reaction is heartfelt and real. But while her reaction makes sense, it’s not quite so sensible for everyone else to take events at face value.

It does, however, make sense that the White House would need to shift gears from prevention to containment. It’s actually a little late for that, especially since it would have been easy to justify based on the attacks that had already taken place. Did it really take this long for Palmer to consider that the country needs to be ready to impose martial law? Nuclear meltdowns and presidential assassinations aren’t enough? (At least it gives Logan a chance to be nutty again.)

Michelle is left with the consequences of her decision. On the one hand, her decision to follow protocol and the law apparently led to the death of the man she loves. On the other, she would have betrayed everything she believes in for just the chance of his survival. The writers use the established momentum running against Tony as a way to shape the audience’s reactions to Michelle’s choice. It’s hard not to sympathize with her, because who hasn’t been dreading the possibility of Tony’s final exit?

Jack starts to use his brain as time runs out, but oddly enough, the thing that clues him in to Mandy’s deception is far more complicated than it needs to be. Before getting to the point where he notices the lack of ambient noise from the rain, he might have noticed that the sound of the car door closing was utterly absent from the otherwise pitch-perfect cell phone call. Considering how many times he ran that part of the video over and over, it’s insane that he didn’t mention it.

For that matter, Mandy is a professional, as Jack notes, so how could Tony use something so basic as a trail of blood to get CTU’s attention? Mandy was looking right at the ground on more than one occasion, and yet somehow managed to miss the bright red blood completely! Leaving aside that the rain was supposed to be hard enough to hear on a cell phone, thus hard enough to disperse fresh blood rather quickly, it’s a plot convenience that mars an otherwise strong episode.

Give Tony credit: he still manages to put up a fight after being mildly tortured. It actually says more about the professional abilities at Mandy’s disposal that she rather methodically takes him down and then resumes the steady escape without hesitation. Indeed, she’s wonderfully impassive when Jack is ready to let Tony die to get his hands on her; since she was clearly ready to kill Tony anyway, calling Jack’s bluff was the logical next step. Curtis shows some great timing, because if another second had ticked by, Tony would have been a dead man.

Tony’s survival is so unlikely, after all the build-up this season, that one is immediately concerned when Michelle proves a little hard to find. Suddenly there was the feeling that Michelle would do something intensely stupid in reaction to her part in Tony’s apparent death. Thankfully, she didn’t eat her gun or, worse, overdose on meds and then get the call that Tony was alive. Michelle looks damned happy, but thankfully, the audience isn’t off the hook yet, because with one episode to go, there’s still a lot of time for heroics.

Jack’s confrontation with Mandy speaks to his desperation. He knows enough about Mandy to realize that she’s a stone killer with a storied past; she might as well be Nina’s younger, more evil sister. Handing her full immunity for acts past and present is one hell of a free pass, and she knows it. And since she’s aware that the missile is coming for Los Angeles (what a shock), trying to get her cake and eat it too represents some quick thinking.

The final scene makes it clear, however, that the producers weren’t kidding when they said that the season would end in a very different way than expected. For all that Jack and CTU are closer to a resolution to this incredibly bad day, the Chinese are getting everything they need to deliver an unexpected blow. In retrospect, the writers were setting the stage for the fifth season, and if the producers are to be believed, the final episode is designed to be the springboard for future events. That means, in essence, that the Chinese witch hunt for Jack Bauer is more than just another subplot, and that the writers are actually planning very far ahead.

As far as this episode goes, however, it’s a stronger hour if only because the hostage situation, and everything that it represents, unearths emotions that have been relatively well hidden to this point. Michelle is on the verge of a complete breakdown, Jack is driven by a mixture of guilt and hope, and Palmer is forced to deal with the fact that his decisions have had seriously bad consequences, made worse by the presence of a very unstable First Executive.

The past three seasons have added more and more denouement to the story. The first season ended abruptly, the second season ended with a false cliffhanger, and the third season ended with Jack ready to lose it. As the stakes increase, so does the wear and tear on Jack’s life. With that final scene, the writers seem to promise that the same will be true this season. Since this is the kind of series were suffering by the main characters is in much demand, Jack’s life looks to be forever altered (and perhaps very confined) yet again.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode continues to deliver consequences to the characters for their decisions, as the seeds for the finale (and apparently the fifth season) are laid out in unrelenting detail. The mind games are fun to watch, and the long build towards a character death is revealed as a clever ruse, used to push the other characters to their limits. Some minor nits remained, but the season looks to end on a higher note than one would have expected, not so long ago.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Season Average (as of 4.23): 6.9

Alias 4.21: "Search and Rescue"

Written by Monica Breen and Alison Schapker
Directed by Lawrence Trilling

In which Jack, Sydney, and Nadia struggle to locate and rescue Irina Derevko while Yelena triggers the beginning of the Rambaldi endgame…


Status Report

The wisdom of airing episodes 20 and 21 on the same night is confirmed early in the second hour. “The Descent” is heavy on the massive alignment changes and the question of Sloane’s motives, but the ending demands that the following episode focus entirely on the revelation that Irina is alive and relatively well. How much fun is it, then, to start the episode with a flashback to Jack’s supposed assassination of Irina?

A great deal of the episode is spent on the emotional fallout of Irina’s return, because it changes things in a massive way. For one thing, when Nadia learns the truth about Irina’s supposed death, the fact that she might really be alive takes something out of her righteous anger. Had Irina still been considered dead, Nadia would not have been so willing to let it go. Sure, the fact that Jack is openly remorseful for his error, but if there’s anything Jack and Nadia can find common ground about, it’s how well Yelena can manipulate the facts.

The solution to Irina’s survival was easy enough to guess, but it does create something of a minor plot inconsistency in terms of the rest of the season. Clearly, the writers originally killed off Irina with the understanding that Lena Olin was probably never coming back and thus the character needed some sense of closure. Whether or not they were keeping Project: Helix in their back pocket is impossible to know, but they definitely moved on once Irina was off the table.

The writers have mentioned Project: Helix several times since the second season, but it didn’t come into play with Arvin Clone. Why use Project: Helix to toss out a fake Irina, and yet only use a memory-replicated stand-in for Sloane? Having Joel Grey in a few episodes was fun, especially his near-perfect emulation of Ron Rifkin’s version of Sloane, but wouldn’t it be more logical for Yelena to imprint a victim with Sloane’s memories and also have him undergo the Project: Helix treatment? (Perhaps Yelena always expected Arvin Clone to be captured, and thus didn’t want to tip her hand in terms of Irina?)

That said, as mentioned already, the episode was dominated by the characters’ reactions to Irina’s return from apparent death. In a way, this distracted from the writers’ ability to move forward with the plot elements in a satisfying way, but there was very little alternative. Lena Olin was only available (affordable!) for a couple of episodes, and so everything related to Irina had to be crammed into a very short period of time.

The writers did what they could with what they were given. Jack’s response is perfectly in character, and one can see what the writers were hoping to accomplish with “Mirage”. Jack seems torn between the firm belief that he made the right call with the information he had and the realization that he’s utterly shaken by the thought that Irina is alive. More than that, the reason for his bitterness over the past 20 years has been given a context that paints Irina in a far more positive light; she was reacting to a threat to her loved ones, one she couldn’t explain to the man she loved. It’s no wonder that Jack doesn’t look like he’s ready to spontaneously combust.

Sydney is caught up in the same mess that Jack finds himself in, so far as Nadia is concerned. Part of the problem is that all of them are being challenged to rethink critical assumptions, assumptions that ruled their lives for years. Also, the news about Irina and Sydney’s role in protecting her father comes on the heels of betrayals by Sophia/Yelena and (apparently) Sloane. Sydney has discovered, quite by accident, that she really was at the forefront of her mother’s thoughts. Watching the second season again is suddenly going to be that much more interesting.

If there’s a trigger for a meltdown from Nadia, however, this is going to be it. She was on the verge of coming apart at the seams just from trying to contain herself around Irina. Watching the scene where Irina finally realizing who Nadia must be is especially heart-breaking; at least Irina and Sydney had a chance to bond, once upon a time, even if it was under less than ideal circumstances. Nadia reverts to a hurt little girl in that scene, and it reveals just how deeply each successive betrayal has wounded her.

Even Vaughn is affected by the odd reality of the situation. Vaughn is used as a “reality check” more than once, and he helps to remind the audience that this reunited family is about as dysfunctional as it comes. (Think the family on “Six Feet Under” is bad? They’ve got nothing on the Bristow/Derevko clan!) But Vaughn has also been forced to recognize the fact that his father’s death was not what it seemed; indeed, his father was a fanatic, apparently working for Yelena, and Irina was trying to protect Nadia. Vaughn can’t really hate Irina for that, given what he’s been through.

And, of course, this is the family that he’s trying to join, which just says everything about how far he’s willing to embrace the insanity. The proposal scene is good as shown, but it could have been a little better. Jack gets to give Vaughn a rare shot of positive reinforcement, but why not give the audience a wide shot of Jack and Irina looking on in pride? Damn, even Nadia should have been looking on, perhaps in a mixture of happiness and envy. Maybe the shots were there and cut for time, but it’s a missed opportunity to drive home the fact that Irina and Jack have more in common now.

Because of the compressed timeline, there are a couple of plot contrivances. For one thing, the writers wanted to make it clear that the CIA wasn’t pleased with the idea of Jack running around with a free Irina Derevko, especially since they don’t really understand the scope of the Rambaldi threat. The fact that there’s a huge red ball filled with a deadly toxin (apparently ala “Almost Thirty Years”) floating above a Russian city doesn’t bother people as much as it should. This is surprising, but they also didn’t understand what they were really doing when they let Sloane run APO, so why should they react to something as terrifyingly alien as a big Floating Red Ball of Death?

More surprising is how easily Chase gives in to Sydney and her demand that Irina be allowed on the mission, and the fact that Irina and Jack don’t flinch at the idea of Nadia coming along. Both Jack and Irina have spent an enormous amount of time protecting either or both Sydney and Nadia, and yet when the time comes when the prophecy is most likely to come to pass, neither one objects to the two women being together. At the very least, Jack could have used Nadia’s fragile emotional state as a basis for keeping her behind!

On the other hand, perhaps the writers did address it, and it was cut. “Alias”, like all JJ Abrams shows, is usually filmed with close to twice as much material as time will allow. This gives them a little more freedom to work out which scenes are critical in post-production, while later episodes are in the draft stage. So one can imagine that the writers conceived of this logical problem and somehow justified it; perhaps Jack and Irina figured that the best time to prevent the prophecy would be at the time of its culmination.

The other problem is that Irina’s position is rather lightly guarded, given her importance to Yelena’s plans. This is an interesting problem because it could very well be a plot point. But consider: if Yelena was holding Irina simply to get Irina to copy a page from a Rambaldi manuscript and then help with its implementation, and that goal has been reached, why is Irina still alive? Why not kill Irina once the plan was initiated? Or was keeping Irina alive and lightly protected all part of Yelena’s plan to get Sydney and Nadia to the right place at the right time?

For all that the plot has too move way too quickly, the final images are quite memorable. It’s amazing to think that the early episodes of the season seemed to be so divorced from Rambaldi and his schemes to ever turn back. Now, the season is delivering the Rambaldi picture more clearly than it’s ever been drawn. That shot of the Circumference suspended over the town was nothing short of thrilling.

It should also be noted that this episode has some of the sexist Sydney scenes in recent memory. Those remembering fondly the days of Sydney in a latex corset and goth PVC, or even the open sexuality of Julia Thorne, might have been missing that side of “Alias”. This season was a return to form (remember “APO”?), but Jen really amps up the heat in this episode. When she straddles Vaughn and then gives that come-hither-NOW stare, it’s enough to make half the audience drop to the floor. (And then there’s that little conversation about how Sydney and Vaughn like it rough…do they play in costume at home, too?)

Originally, the idea was to make the final episode 90 minutes long. With the extension of the “Lost” finale, the episode had to be recut to an hour. That a good 20 minutes or more of lost material from this episode. It’s going to be a challenge for the producers to make everything fit into that time, given how many plot threads are coming together in one episode. The action and consequences could spill over into the beginning of the fifth season, but since Lena Olin is unlikely to be around again, that could prove impossible. At this point, it may not matter; just the fact that the Rambaldi arc might actually be resolved before the series is over is a cause for celebration.


Final Analysis

Overall, though this episode was not as strong as the previous installment, it had definite strengths. Any episode with Irina front and center is likely to succeed, and the varied reactions to her presence are worth it. The Rambaldi endgame actually yielded something more than talk this time around, and it is requisitely chilling. Events are speeding towards a terrible battle to prevent the end of humanity, and in the process, the audience is finally treated to the story they have been waiting for since the first season.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Season Average (as of 4.21): 7.7

Entil's 2005/2006 TiVo Schedule

I had a whole paragraph about how this is all just the prospective TiVo schedule, but the crappy LJ editing process wiped it out when the server timed out. So here's the long and the short of it, starting with Summer 2005 and then the 2005/2006 season:

** - Reviewed series
(?) - Not sure about this one; possible series to follow
(C) - Cris' choice

SUMMER 2005

SUNDAY
9 PM
The 4400
10 PM
Dead Zone

TUESDAY
9 PM
Fire Me, Please (?)
Big Brother 6 (C)
10 PMRock Star: INXS (?)

WEDNESDAY
9 PM
The Inside
Ghost Hunters

THURSDAY
8 PM
Big Brother 6 (C)

FRIDAY
8 PM
Stargate: SG1
9 PM
Stargate: Atlantis
10 PM
Battlestar: Galactica

SATURDAY
8 PM
Big Brother 6 (C)



FALL 2005/SPRING 2006

SUNDAY
8 PM
The West Wing
9 PM
Desperate Housewives (C)

MONDAY
8 PM
Fathom (?)
9 PM
**24 (Jan 2006)
10 PM
Medium

TUESDAY
8 PM
NCIS
American Idol (Jan 2006)
9 PM
Amazing Race
Supernatural (?)
9:30 PM
The Office

WEDNESDAY
9 PM
**Lost
E-Ring (?)
10 PM
Invasion (?)

THURSDAY
8 PM (this is gonna suck big time!)
**Alias
Survivor
Smallville
Joey (C)
9 PM
The Night Stalker (?)
Reunion (?)
The Apprentice (C)

FRIDAY
8 PM
Stargate: SG1
9 PMStargate: Atlantis
Threshold (?)
10 PM
Battlestar: Galactica

MIDSEASON SHOWS (if picked up):
The Unit (?)
Emily's Reasons Why Not (?)
What About Brian (?)

Sure, it looks like a lot, but most of this stuff is "maybe", and much of it will drop off after a couple of episodes! This is also why it's possible that something will hit me as a new series to review, if it's compelling enough for my tastes. (Or I'll just wait until that Star Wars series starts up...LOL...)

Alias 4.20: "The Descent"

Written by Jeffrey Bell
Directed by Jeffrey Bell

In which Yelena’s betrayal of Nadia is exposed, leading to revelations about the nature of Rambaldi’s endgame and the truth about Irina’s previous activities…


Status Report

In the space of a few short episodes, the current writing staff of “Alias” has accomplished what was once deemed impossible: pulling the massive plot holes and dangling plot threads of the past into a cohesive whole. Not only is the Rambaldi endgame that much closer to being defined, but context is provided for the past four seasons, taking uncertain and undefined motivations and giving them meaning.

(Note: this review has been written after viewing this particular episode only, despite the fact that the next episode was aired on the same night; the reviewer intentionally did not watch the second episode until this review was completed.)

This episode outlines the fabric of the “Alias” universe in all its glory, and it makes a great deal of sense. It’s a bit convenient at times, since some things that are shoved under the Yelena umbrella don’t quite mesh with how they were originally presented, but from a conceptual standpoint it works very well. One can easily attribute the major points of contention to the sins of the third season writing staff, who have already been rebuked time and again for their loose control over story development and continuity details.

The point of this episode is quite plain: this brings the characters and audience up to speed with the full reality of the Rambaldi mythology and how all the major characters play into it. Once again, it comes down to assembling the right pieces together to create the right mechanism, but that makes a certain amount of sense. Rambaldi didn’t just count on the right artifacts being set into place; he also counted on the right people moving into the right positions.

Sloane’s background, given in the previous episode, fits perfectly into his comments during the extremely welcome flashback in Siena. Sloane came to believe that his loss was preordained, part of a divine plan that would allow him to be Rambaldi’s advocate in the modern world. His obsession led him to the desire to be that person, the one that would forever be remembered for changing the world, his name tied to Rambaldi and history for all time. It’s that kind of drive that would have allowed him to act and plan with such dedication for 30 years.

Yelena was the Derevko sister, however, that wanted to use the same power towards a far more destructive end. What’s not clear is when Yelena’s true design became clear to Irina. It seems obvious enough that the three Derevko sisters originally conspired to bring about the Rambaldi endgame, and that Irina’s choice to have Sydney and Nadia was part of that design. At that point, perhaps Irina only knew that the Chosen One would be instrumental in pulling together the artifacts necessary while The Passenger would point them to the final piece (this purpose finally revealed in this episode). The prophecy about the two sisters warring over a single object must have come later, thus beginning Irina’s long struggle to take control of the Rambaldi endgame in an effort to protect her daughters.

As mentioned in earlier reviews, this places the second season in a completely different light, and does much to explain Irina’s hidden agenda. Working with Sloane would give Irina certain short term benefits, especially since it would do much to derail Yelena’s efforts, which Sloane didn’t even know about. With Sydney’s apparent death in the third season, Irina would have assumed that the struggle was that much closer to being over. But then the word about the Covenant would have come out, and Irina would have realized that Yelena was that much closer to the endgame.

With Sloane coming close to achieving his own endgame and locating The Passenger, Yelena would have sent Katya to convince Jack to kill Sloane and eliminate the one adversary in the way. Yelena would have also been working, one would think, with the Magnific Order of Rambaldi. Capturing Irina would have also eliminated that threat, and using Arvin Clone, Yelena could use the resource of the Covenant and Sloane’s criminal ties to her advantage.

It’s brilliant enough to make the third season, as JJ always promised, far better in retrospect, because now what had little purpose has a solid foundation. When Sloane said that The Telling produced “Peace”, it wasn’t a complete lie; it was, in essence, the roadmap to peace, from a certain point of view. If one is willing to forgive some of the moments where the story seems to be culminating in a “final endgame” and then jumping into some new step in the process, then this episode aligns the series into one paradigm.

Consider for a moment that Sydney, because of her hatred for Sloane, worked for years to gather the Rambaldi artifacts and get them to Kendell and DSR; in the process, she essentially handed them to Yelena, once Yelena’s connection to Nadia was exploited. In that context, Sydney has “brought forth Rambaldi’s works” and “bound them with fury”, thus allowing Yelena to “render destruction unto the greatest power”. From a certain point of view, Sydney has fulfilled her purpose, just as Nadia fulfilled hers. Now there’s only the final endgame to be resolved, and that’s well underway.

Instead of just dumping everything out in a “Full Disclosure”-style episode, meant to clear the decks and little else, the writers use Sloane’s apparent return to obsessed form as the through-line of the episode. Everything is tied to Sloane’s apparent motivation, playing on the end of “Another Mister Sloane” and the team’s constant fear that he will revert to form. In this episode, he seems to do exactly that.

Note, however, the constant qualification in those statements. After all, this is the man who came back from a fantasy for the love of his daughter Nadia, and he just watched her trust in the one woman that meant everything to her torn to ribbons. Yelena was always a threat, but she had never actually hurt Nadia until this episode. And since the writers have reinforced Sloane’s love for Nadia all season, it stands to reason that Sloane’s motivations are so clear cut as outright betrayal. The expected moment of revelation, where Sloane admits his true intentions, never comes, and he constantly tries to tell his old team that his apparent reversal is not what it seems.

It could just be an exercise in taking what might seem obvious and making it murky, but it feels like the culmination of two very distinct and well-established character influences, warring for control. And while Sloane has been obsessed with Rambaldi for 30 years, that obsession replaced the very thing that Nadia represents: Sloane’s biological legacy. In terms of classic drama, Sloane would be strongly motivated by his original desire for family, and thus would work to overcome the sins of his obsession.

Of course, in terms of classic drama, Sloane would typically become the final victim of his own misguided schemes, thus sacrificing himself so that his daughter (the source of his redemption) might live. Indeed, Sloane would likely sacrifice himself in such a manner as to allow Nadia and her allies to defeat Yelena without falling into the trap of prophecy. If Nadia and Sydney survive the end of the season, then there’s a very good chance that Sloane will not.

The interesting thing is that Sloane is such a great liar that he could, in fact, have fallen into the old Rambaldi obsessions and still appear to have another agenda. Since the team assumes that Sloane is back off the wagon, this would be a bit disappointing. Sloane is the villain that everyone loves to hate because he is, in fact, so human in the end. His motivations turn out to be rather easy to understand and reconcile. He’s not the melodramatic villain, evil to the core; he’s a fully realized character with a possibility for redemption.

The episode is dominated by Sloane’s motivations (indeed, this season has been very Sloane-heavy, which is a creatively dangerous choice but rewarding in the end). But that’s not the only strength of the episode. Another appearance by Katya allows for some quick revelations about Yelena and Irina (in the matter of about two minutes, the entire series takes on a new perspective), and also allows for an interesting comparison to Yelena herself. Despite the difference in nationalities between the actresses, there’s a remarkable similarity between the sisters, which underscores the brilliance in the casting of the Derevkos.

Jack gets to consider how his decision to kill Irina, all because of a trick by Yelena, allowed the current situation to spiral out of control. The self-examination that follows is a big reason why Jack gives Vaughn his blessing to marry Sydney. This is actually another reason to suspect that JJ planned this season out as a possible end to the whole series. Beyond the apparent resolution to nearly all things Rambaldi, there’s a possible culmination of the Vaughn/Sydney relationship (even should it come as a cliffhanger).

Jack also gets to toss out one of the best one-liners of the season: “Like weapons-grade anthrax grows on trees! (dramatic rolling of eyes)”

Dixon and Director Chase have apparently been having a relationship on the side, which is a good development, even if it should have been on screen and not just mentioned when convenient for the dramatic aspects of the story. Dixon has been shot a lot this season, but that is a consequence of being in the field once more, and that has been a highlight.

Indeed, the “resolution” phase of this season is turning out to be strong enough to make this a welcome return to the storytelling of the second season. If the initial episodes were a bit rocky, it was a move designed to get viewers (new and old) comfortable with the new status quo before rattling out the arc elements and retroactive continuity fixes. In other words, JJ and his writing staff did exactly what was expected of them; the structure that was brought over from “Angel” has worked wonders for “Alias”.

With two episodes left, there’s still a lot of ground to be covered. Irina’s survival is going to require one hell of an explanation. It can be done, of course, since Yelena has managed to pull off far more impressive stunts in recent memory (perhaps a Project: Helix situation was involved), but the explanation should also include a brief and compelling version of events from Irina’s point of view. Irina’s fate must also be dealt with definitively this time around, if only to avoid the issues of Lena Olin’s availability.

It’s quite possible that the Rambaldi endgame is going to prove too large a ball of string to unravel in the time left. If this is supposed to be the end, with the fifth season dealing more with the consequences of the plot than stopping it, then hopefully the writers will be able to pull off an ending worthy of the build. If this is not the end, then the challenge will be making that fact amenable to a fandom that has been waiting a very long time for some sense of closure. Whatever the case, a strong ending will instill a great deal of trust in an audience that will need to be there next season to combat some serious competition.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was an amazing example of creative retroactive continuity, picking up on several dangling plot threads from the second and third seasons to set the stage for a magnificent showdown at the end of this season. Sloane’s motivations once again come under scrutiny, which seems to set the stage for classic tragic drama. Whatever may happen, a season that seemed to be in disarray is suddenly looking planned to near perfection.

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

Final Rating: 9/10

Season Average (as of 4.20): 7.7

Lost 1.23: "Exodus I"

Written by Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse
Directed by Jack Bender

In which the French woman arrives at camp with a dire warning as the survivors prepare to launch the raft, which leads to an expedition to Black Rock and several farewells…


Status Report

Considering that this is the first of three parts, it plays like the beginning of a trilogy: fairly short on answers, but big on the setup. In a nice move by the writing staff, the story is filled with bookends that define the scope of the season thus far: flashbacks to the airport, just hours before the crash, inserted between the slow but steady rising action on the island. In a lot of ways, the entire season laid the foundation for these final moments, especially in terms of the characters and their motivations.

It’s hard not to feel as if the writers were intentionally crafting this season so that the series could end with a sense of satisfaction from a character perspective, should the network fall on its head and make a very stupid decision. Had the series ended with this trilogy, there’s the sense that there would have been closure on some of the character-specific mysteries. Of course, that’s the perspective after seeing the first part of the trilogy; it’s also entirely possible that the writers are bringing the characters to a certain point so that the events to come have greater impact.

For those looking for reason to complain, not a whole lot happens in this episode. That’s typical for the first third of a trilogy. The elements and scope of the story are seeded and hinted, but that’s about it. So this is all about Danielle coming to warn the survivors of Oceanic 815 that the “others” are coming (Ethan’s friends!), now that Claire’s child has been born. Seems the same exact thing happened when Danielle had Alex (resolution to “Solitary”!), who turns out to have been a girl (kudos to those who guessed), and that is not good news for Claire and Turniphead.

Locke and Jack come up with a rather intriguing and disturbing plan: get that hatch open and hide everyone in there. Sayid brings up one of several dozen reasons why that is likely to be a bad idea. As he mentioned in the previous episode, there’s probably a reason why the hatch is sealed to prevent anyone from opening it from the outside. The “numbers” were probably etched there as a warning, in retrospect. And there’s plenty of reason to believe that the hatch is only part of a much larger system, probably related to the “monster” and the “others”, at the rate that things are going.

Danielle doesn’t seem convinced that it’s the best of ideas, but since she seems to think that the “others” are impossible to fight, there aren’t too many other options. As others point out: her survival has been predicated on hiding one self-sufficient and possibly nutty person for 16 years. She still hasn’t worked out a better plan, and the “others” are doing a fine job of maintaining their strength over time.

Danielle remembers that there were explosives at Black Rock, from when she went there with her team to alter the transmission from the “numbers” to her distress signal. Leaving aside the question of whether or not they would still be there, it means crossing into the “dark territory” of the “others” and raiding Black Rock. This is a major part of the episode, and it also allows Danielle to dump out some useful exposition.

For one thing, the “monster” sounds a lot more mechanical in this episode, which fits with her explanation that it’s some kind of security system. That, of course, brings up more questions than it answers, but it’s a kind of resolution, all the same. How that would be something that Locke considers beautiful is not clear, but he’s not afraid of it. They know that Danielle has seen it and understands its functions, so why not spend some of that travel time by interrogating her and getting some sense of the technology of the “others”? Granted, Jack and his merry band have other things on their mind, but Danielle is an exposition dump waiting to happen!

The revelation about Black Rock comes out of left field, and yet it makes a certain amount of sense. How the ship got that far inland is a matter for another day, and it opens up the question of whether the “others” and the technology on the island are really connected. Did the “others” come on Black Rock, after it was also lured to the island by the transmission of the “numbers”? Or are the “others” the descendants of those who apparently started this whole mess on the island in the first place?

If the “others” are after Turniphead, then they apparently abducted Claire in the hopes that they could take custody as soon as he was born. How she got away is still unclear, but this business with the baby is probably connected to Claire’s dreams from her journal (didn’t they mention Black Rock?) and the psychic’s vision from “Raised by Another”. One way or another, if people are paying attention, the pieces are starting to fall into place.

The raft is also launched, after a bit of repair, which also marks the beginning of changes for the survivors. They really have no idea what they’re going to encounter once they leave the island. If the writers are going in the direction as suggested by this episode, then they will also run into the “others” or perhaps yet another group. It’s still possible that the raft will take them to wherever the survivors from the tail section have gone (if they did, in fact, survive), which could have been the reason for the scene between Anna and Jack; imagine if the raft runs into a similar improvised craft manned by Anna and Rose’s husband!

For all that, character is still king on “Lost”, and this episode answers some lingering questions from earlier episodes and flashbacks. Perhaps most important is the conversation between Jack and Sawyer. In a rare display of human decency, Sawyer informs Jack about the encounter with Jack’s father (resolution to “Outlaws”!), which could finally give Jack a sense of closure. It’s unlikely that this will absolve Jack of his daddy issues, but it’s a start. The conversation between Jack and Locke in the previous episode seems to have helped as well; Locke may not be forgiven, but Jack is no longer quite so self-righteous.

Also interesting is the revelation that Jack’s marriage didn’t last. This was fairly obvious already, but “Do No Harm” didn’t really get into the whys and wherefores. Neither does this episode, but for those looking for a plain laying out of facts, the answer has been given. What that means, of course, is that Jack could find himself torn between his questionable choice of marrying Sarah and starting up a relationship with Kate. Daddy issues evolve into ex-wife issues.

For her part, Kate is still trying to win back trust, and it’s a hard road. As already hinted, Kate seems to be looking for Jack’s approval, if only because he has so many qualities in common with Tom. Jack has a capacity for forgiveness (see Locke and/or Sawyer), so it’s a safe enough bet. Once more, the audience is reminded (during the exposition scene with the Marshall) that Kate’s initial crime could have been explained by mitigating circumstances, but her choices made it look like she’s a career criminal (which she now is, regardless of how it all began).

Speaking of that scene, that’s the kind of dry and uninteresting scene that one gets when one complains about how the writers would prefer to unveil a character’s background. The Marshall’s exposition is easily the worst scene of the episode, and yet it’s exactly the kind of step-by-step explanation that some fans have been demanding. Is that really so much better than letting the writers delve into character motivations over time?

Sawyer is more himself in this episode, though he makes a concerted effort to avoid Kate before disembarking. That apparent cruelty is offset by his surprising conversation with Jack, and the fact that he was being forcibly deported out of Australia (resolution to “Hearts and Minds”!). The warning about stepping foot on Australian soil again feels like foreshadowing, which could signal an expansion of the series’ scope in the relatively near future.

Sayid doesn’t get much face time in this episode, beyond giving Michael (and the audience) clear instructions on the technology on the raft. Needless to say, that technology will become important before long! Sayid might have been a more logical choice for the expedition to Black Rock, but it’s actually wise to leave him behind in Jack’s absence. One would expect that Sayid’s story will come back into play in the second or third part, since there has to be more to the story of his run-in with airport security.

Claire doesn’t get to do much more than react to the news that Turniphead is in danger again, but like Sayid, the connections of her background will likely come into play in the second hour, especially if they intersect with elements of the upcoming encounter with the “others”. Charlie’s part is mostly comic relief, gathering messages for the bottle and playing a support role. Since the two of them have been in a good place since Turniphead’s birth, there’s reason to be worried. For one thing, the writers could avoid the whole baby problem by having the “others” be successful, thus raising the stakes and making Claire even more dependent on Charlie. That could bring the heroin from the plane Locke discovered into play.

Shannon has been understandably bitter over the past couple of episodes, but Walt’s gesture of giving her Vincent to help heal open wounds gives her a chance to open up. This is one instance where the “bookending” is very effective; Shannon’s journey from hot spoiled brat to hot mourning sister is striking. She’s still not the most sympathetic character on the planet, but it’s hard not to feel her pain. (And the fact that she gave Sayid trouble from the beginning, before he even realized it, is classic!)

Hurley is still around for comic relief, but it’s interesting to note that he’s also been identified as the biggest snitch on the whole island. If the rest of the survivors are beginning to feel like Hurley can’t keep their confidences, then he could become more isolated. Equally interesting is the message he places in Charlie’s bottle. What are the chances that he wrote the “numbers” down, in the hopes that he could pass on the “curse” to someone else?

The change in the relationship between Michael and Walt is also striking. They may not be completely on the same page yet, but they get along far better than they did before getting on that plane. Much of the emotional aftermath left out of “Special” gets touched on in this episode. The fact that it gives a sense of closure to Michael’s motivations could be trouble. The circumstances are begging for another casualty, and Michael would be an obvious choice.

Also obvious would be the loss of Jin, considering that he’s finally told Sun that he’s doing all of this as penance, for her sake. The scene between Jin and Sun gives them a certain closure on “House of the Rising Sun” and “…In Translation”, which is good to see, but it also highlights the fact that there’s far more left on the table for Sun than for Jin. Would it be so hard to imagine the raft ride ending with Sawyer and Walt as the only ones left?

There’s also a sense that Locke’s ongoing character threads are culminating with this finale. His experience in “Walkabout” is still driving his behavior, especially with respect to the “monster”, and that could present an interesting conflict if Jack doesn’t agree with Locke’s point of view. Jack could see the “will of the island” from a more practical, less mystical perspective, setting up the chieftain/shaman conflict that has been brewing all season long.

With the rest of the story coming on one night, seeing how this plays out should be quite the rollercoaster ride. With so many little character elements culminating with this finale, it’s easy to see that the writers have been working towards a set of goals all season long. The revelation about Black Rock makes sense, as does the connection between Danielle/Alex and Claire/Turniphead. Patient viewers are being rewarded, and hopefully some of the more impatient critics are beginning to realize that they weren’t seeing the forest through the trees.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was a good first third for the season finale, bringing some long-standing character elements into perspective and pulling subplots together in the same direction. As usual, the answers provided only give way to new questions, but there’s a growing sense of a consistent whole, even if only part of it is likely to be addressed by season’s end. For those looking for quick and clear answers, the writers provide a couple of instances to demonstrate why that’s not dramatically satisfying.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Season Average (as of 1.23): 8.0

Enterprise 4.22: "These Are the Voyages..."

Written by Rick Berman, Brannon Braga, and Brent Spiner
Directed by Allan Kroeker

In which Commander Riker from the Enterprise-D, faced with a difficult moral choice, takes a look back at the final mission of the NX-01 and a fateful choice made by a member of its crew…


Captain’s Log

The end of “Enterprise” also brings with it the end of modern Trek as it has been known for 18 years. No longer will there be a constant television presence from the franchise, and the films have come to an abrupt end with the disappointing “ST: Nemesis”. Whatever arguments the fandom might have regarding the “fatigue” of the franchise, there’s one thing that’s abundantly clear: the current regime is out of ideas and Paramount has little interest in churning out product for an increasingly wary audience.

The fourth season of “Enterprise” has been something of a love letter to the fans in and of itself. Not only did it smooth over some of the bumps that the series had created in the first two seasons, it also catered to the continuity-minded. Gone were the attempts to bring in new viewers; it was all about making the Trek fans happy. For the most part, it was a success. Those who dismissed the season were already displeased with the series and the recent direction of the franchise.

Rick Berman has been many things to the Trek franchise. Initially, he seemed to be the heir apparent to Gene Roddenberry, taking the reins of the franchise and exploring new ground. But very quickly, it was apparent that Berman was more a businessman than a dedicated fan. Gene lived the concepts of Trek, he gave them life and meaning, even to the point of making “Next Generation” a potential flop in the name of maintaining a certain idealistic vision. (Gene wasn’t perfect, of course, but Trek was his baby.)

Berman, on the other hand, had to think in terms of franchise growth. That meant, in some cases, walking a very fine line. Early Berman efforts with other writers were often well-received. Good people were brought in to develop the later seasons of “Next Generation”. The first sign of trouble came at the height of the Trek revival, when “Next Generation” was winding down and “DS9” was struggling to gain a foothold. To bolster the new series, the best efforts of the “Next Generation” writing staff would be handed off for retooling as a “DS9” script.

From a numbers perspective, Berman was doing what he had to do to ensure future viability. But fans didn’t want a watered-down “Next Generation” or a spinoff with different characters but the same old stories. It’s a matter of record that when fresh blood was brought onto “DS9” to give the series a solid identity, Berman didn’t like the idea of a more serialized format. Berman made his case rather plainly: serialized shows are harder to air out of sequence, and thus have more limited syndication value.

With the public interest in Trek still high (the era between “STVI: The Undiscovered Country” and “ST: First Contact” would be the high point of public admiration for modern Trek), Berman wanted to counter the direction of “DS9” through another business move. Not unlike the “Law and Order” and “CSI” franchises of current television, the theory was that two series with different overall concepts could co-exist. “DS9” would cover a more serialized and self-referential territory, while “Voyager” would return to the episodic format of “Next Generation”.

The result was a mixed bag. On the one hand, Berman was correct: “DS9” was appealing more to the kind of Trek fan that wanted the storytelling evident in competition like “Babylon 5”. Indeed, those two series were locked in a constant struggle to raise the bar, and fans responded to the creativity. But Berman saw that as self-limiting from a business perspective: the “DS9” universe was too arcane for new viewers, and the franchise was beginning to lose momentum. “Voyager” would, in essence, be more friendly to new viewers. As such, Berman gave vast support to “Voyager”, mostly to the detriment of the more critically acclaimed “DS9”.

The miscalculation was largely on the side of Paramount. “Voyager” was launched as the flagship series for UPN, a weak new network that barely had coverage in the major cities, let alone the heartland and college towns where Trek fandom finds such strong expression. Those who grew up with “Next Generation” were suddenly unable to watch the new series. Those who could were deeply divided. Some loved the return to episodic storytelling, but others soundly criticized the lack of consistency and character growth.

As the franchise suffered from the slow bleeding of ratings, thanks to the struggles of UPN and an audience that demanded less retread and more creativity, Berman (with his now-constant writing partner Brannon Braga) focused on business-minded attempts to revitalize the franchise. The infamous addition of Seven of Nine was a clear attempt to play on young male demographics, and after Braga began dating the actress, the series seemed to focus less on character and story and more on highlighting Seven. Add to that the frustrations of a writing staff ordered to keep things simple and avoid anything resembling a plot arc (“DS9” was firmly in the throes of serialized storytelling at the time), and it was clear that “Voyager” was struggling.

By the time “Voyager” ended, the franchise was in deep trouble. “ST: Insurrection” had proven a disaster in terms of overall critical and fan reception, and fans were annoyed by how abruptly “Voyager” ended. Yet Berman was pleased by the ratings and the fact that there was still support for more, and there was no reason to stop moving forward. He was aware, on some level, that the fans were unhappy with the direction of the franchise, but as his public statements have indicated, he felt disdain for the fans that were too focused, in his view, on the continuity. The real question was one of concept.

“Enterprise” was an attempt to cater to the maximum possible audience. It was originally divorced from Trek in order to give it a unique identity; the idea was to gain the interest of those who were beginning to avoid anything labeled “Star Trek”. This failed miserably. While the series got an initial strong reaction, many fans didn’t even know it existed, and it didn’t take long for the new viewers to recognize that the same old writers were struggling to give the new series a unique voice.

Much of this falls on Berman and Braga, in the minds of the firmly rooted fandom, because from the beginning there was a concerted effort to play it safe. The concept was supposed to be gritty and less reserved, reflective of the era in question; instead, it often felt like more of the same. The characters were even less complicated than those on “Voyager”. Indeed, the ratings prove out what was apparent to all by the end of the second season: Berman and Braga had put together a series that was designed to appeal to everyone, and as a result, it was appealing to hardly anyone. (What role Brent Spiner played is unknown, but his contributions to “ST: Nemesis” and this episode are perhaps indicative of a serious drop in creative writing ability.)

By the end of the second season, Berman was forced to make a serious change to avoid cancellation. This is often forgotten. The decision to move into a more serialized storytelling format was not Berman’s original idea, no matter his capacity for revisionism. Original statements about the series clearly indicate that serialized elements were intentionally being set aside; even the “Temporal Cold War”, Braga’s brainchild, was kept undefined and to one side; the intent was always to keep things safe and episodic.

While fans were divided over the success of the third season, the critics responded. This was especially true when Manny Coto was brought onto the writing staff. While Berman denies it to this day, comments from the time confirm that Coto was brought in to inject a fresh perspective and vision. Paramount had finally realized what many fans had long since noted: Berman was a businessman, not a well of creativity, and as such, he had presided over the decline of the franchise in the public awareness.

Coto was brought in by Paramount when the writing was on the wall. Berman and Braga had been given an ultimatum: revive the interest in “Enterprise” and regain ratings power or the series will be cancelled. Many fans understood what Berman still cannot admit: Coto was brought in to make the best of a bad situation until enough episodes were in the can for syndication purposes. When “ST: Nemesis” hit an iceberg with the fans, never mind the public overall, the franchise was over. Berman, for all his business savvy, couldn’t keep things profitable.

Coto’s presence was felt immediately by the fans. The second half of the third season saw a more focused storytelling, even if the initial plot elements by Berman and Braga were still lingering. Fans also noted that whenever Berman and Braga were brought in to write an episode, it was poorly received; indeed, the impression was that the two would force themselves on the writing staff in some vain power play. So it is that the fourth season was written, until the end, exclusively by Coto and his hand-picked writing staff. The mandate was to go out swinging, and Coto did exactly that. Berman’s comments to the contrary, there was no turning back from the direction he had set the franchise on, in the name of preserving business needs. It was only after the writing was on the wall that the fans got what they had been looking for all along (which just happened to be contrary to gaining new audience).

There’s a point to this discourse, beyond simply bashing Rick Berman for taking a creative vision and turning it into a business-driven franchise. It’s about pointing to the fact that it’s not “Enterprise” itself that was denied a true ending, but the franchise as a whole. This episode is a single episode exercise in trying to achieve two separate goals: give the adventures of the NX-01 “historical” relevance and give closure to 18 years of modern Trek. In that regard, Berman’s concept for “These Are the Voyages…” is sound.

It’s the doom of any franchise to die a slow and painful death. Seldom are franchises allowed to go out on top, and it’s only under such circumstances that series are typically afforded the opportunity for a true ending. This story really needed to be a double-episode, if only to allow the two major requirements of the episode to come together. Since Paramount and UPN weren’t willing to give the money or the time (UPN unfairly lumped episode 21 in the previous hour, destroying that episode’s ability to be seen as distinct), the final product struggles to find balance.

The right pieces are in place for a realistic series and franchise finale. Some might have scoffed at the idea of having Riker and Troi look back on the adventures of NX-01 from the future, as if it were a forced connection between “Enterprise” and the overall continuity, but it’s a strong idea. And the death of Trip, coming just before the forging of the alliance that becomes the Federation (in very short order, given the fact it’s already 2161), is a dramatic hook that might not be necessary, but is meant to give the story emotional depth.

The problem is quite simply the execution of the idea. Clearly, Berman and Braga felt that it wasn’t enough to give Archer and his crew “historical” relevance. Riker had to be undergoing a personal crisis and in need of some kind of assistance. Thus Troi must send him into the holodeck to see if Trip’s choice to sacrifice himself for a better future, breaking orders in the process, can give Riker insight. The crisis of conscience takes place during scenes set during the “Next Generation” episode “The Pegasus”.

But was this truly necessary? For one thing, if the viewers aren’t intimately familiar with “The Pegasus”, part of the episode is wasted trying to gain perspective. Riker’s plight isn’t well communicated, and since the final decision is already a known quantity, it’s not very compelling, either. While Frakes and Sirtis don’t look nearly as bad as one would expect in the old uniforms, the scenes are a bit stiff, especially given the fact that they were forced to play a situation out of the original context. The effort is there, but the depth is missing, thanks to the limited time allowed.

On the other side, Berman and Braga try to develop an adventure for Archer that not only places his future in jeopardy but also allows Shran to make one last appearance. Instead of making this story something truly special, something unexpected, it plays like a truly bad stand-alone episode. The villains are incredibly laughable, and they are pulled in and out of the story in a way that makes “plot contrivance” sound innocuous in comparison. (In fact, there have been villains on “Power Rangers” with more credibility.)

If the point of the episode was for Riker to equate his psychological crisis with some past decision on Trip’s part, it doesn’t make logical sense. What exactly is Riker supposed to learn from Trip’s impulsive decision to sacrifice himself to ensure that Archer can give a speech? It’s not even close to resonating with Riker’s situation. Between the depiction of the villains and the manner of Trip’s death, it just doesn’t come together. (Considering that this was the original script written as the third season finale, when the renewal for the fourth season was up in the air, it’s amazing to think how this sat around for a year and still ended up so disjointed.)

Again, there’s no faulting Berman’s logic in tying up modern Trek in a single tale. It’s just that the story wasn’t properly conceived to achieve the two goals that it had to fulfill. Both sides of the story had to be equally self-contained and logical, and in turn, the connective thread had to exist between past and future to make the story a timeless exploration of the human condition. All three facets were lacking in this episode, and so it’s no wonder that the overall sense of the fandom is negative.

The sad thing is that it didn’t have to be that way. With a little retooling, the overall premise could have remained intact, but far more meaningful to the audience and reverential of the franchise and its cultural context. Granted, any real attempt at such an ending would have required a double-length episode to get it right. But would it have really been so hard?

What this episode needed was an emotional hook. Killing off Trip is not really the sacrilege some believe it to be; it’s the fact that his passing has so little meaning. In terms of changing the story in some minimal way, why not have Shran’s child be abducted by a group looking to disrupt the signing of the charter for the Federation? Indeed, this would have instantly tied the events of “Demons”/”Terra Prime” to the series finale. Trip could have died saving Archer during the rescue attempt, and the story could have unfolded in flashbacks.

Instead of placing the “future” subplot during a “Next Generation” episode, wouldn’t it have been more fitting to place it after “ST: Nemesis” in the timeline? In one fell swoop, the full scope of the established history of modern Trek would have been bridged. Why would this have worked better? Because Riker becomes the captain of the Titan at the end of “ST: Nemesis”, and as such, he’s embarking on a new journey in his life, all because of Data’s sacrifice.

And therein lies a far more meaningful concept than the one offered. It’s about the death of someone (something) important, someone (something) a part of one’s life for so long, and moving on. Troi could have sent Riker to the holodeck to play Chef, just as he does, and in the process of helping the crew of NX-01 deal with their emotions over Data and the end of their time on Enterprise, Riker could have gained insight into his own feelings. And that would have also resonated as a general theme for fans of the franchise, as they mourn the end of an era.

In other words, what was accomplished by the very short montage at the end of this episode could have been the overriding theme of the entire hour. An episode of reflection over life, death, and change could have been interspersed with flashbacks of the rescue attempt. Ideally, Archer’s speech would have actually made it on screen, so that the ideals of Roddenberry’s vision could be expressed through stirring monologue in the end. That, too, would have served to give Riker a context for his own command and moving on.

It’s not as if the budget wasn’t there to create the Titan and its interiors; the NCC-1701-D had to be recreated for this episode anyway. And any questions about how old Frakes and Sirtis look compared to earlier episodes would be a moot point. More to the point, the emphasis would have been shifted, if done properly, to the cast of “Enterprise”. As it is, the NX-01 might as well be revealed as a holosuite program with pretensions of grandeur.

Not everything about this episode is poorly executed. Several individual scenes are very well done, especially when the characters get to open up with Riker as Chef. It’s equally obvious why Jolene Blalock found this episode to be “appalling”. The focus is squarely on Riker and Troi as the main characters; the cast of “Enterprise” is secondary. Beyond that, as mentioned, the events on NX-01 wouldn’t have worked as a regular episode, let alone as part of a series finale.

Berman and Braga put together a series finale that served their interests more than those of the audience. This was about tossing in the elements that they thought the audience would enjoy, and in fact, they were close to the mark. But their lack of vision is evident by the slipshod quality of the episode and its failure as an emotionally resonant ending to the series. Identifying the pieces that are popular and knowing to pull them together is a business-level decision; bringing those pieces together into a satisfying whole is art. Berman has always been about business, and so it should come as little surprise that this finale misses the mark.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was not the satisfying series finale that the audience deserved. In fact, it serves none of the functions that the writers were clearly hoping it would fulfill. It wouldn’t have taken much to create a finale with true resonance, focused on the characters of “Enterprise”, even retaining the perspective of characters from a future time. The death of a main character comes as the result of events that wouldn’t have passed muster as a regular episode, let alone the series finale. In the end, modern Trek ends not with pride, but instead, with a sense of profound disappointment.

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

Final Rating: 4/10

Season 4 Final Average: 7.3

Enterprise Complete Series Rating: 6.8

24 4.22: "Day 4: 4AM - 5AM"

Written by Matt Michnovetz and Duppy Demetrius
Directed by Kevin Hooks

In which the search for the nuclear missile’s target leads to Heller’s son Richard and his lover, who also happens to be the lover of an old enemy, who holds the key to Marwan’s plot…


Status Report

After what amounted to a two-part exploration of hard choices and tough emotional consequences, the focus is not as tight coming into this episode. On the one hand, there’s a theme of regret and love lost running throughout the hour, but there are also a number of subplots that make it come together like a glorified soap opera. Granted, that’s not too far from where “24” usually resides, dramatically, but it’s a bit sappy and obvious this time around.

The episode begins with an interesting if facile plot convenience: the missile carrying the nuclear weapon is “stealth technology”, and thus cannot be directly tracked. The range is exactly large enough to ensure that either coast can be hit before the end of the season. This, of course, requires a strong sense of leadership from President Logan, but he finds himself constantly deferring to Palmer instead of making his own decisions. Given his attitude in the previous episode, Logan seems rather eager to cede power to a civilian.

There’s a short scene between Jack and Marwan that gives token acknowledgment to the fact that Marwan and his supporters have a consistent point of view. That point of view is not at all legitimized, of course, and Marwan’s unbending hatred is cast in a requisitely negative light. However, it’s chilling to be reminded that the terror and psychological damage is the goal; Marwan cannot be bought with any other promises because from his perspective, it’s a question of teaching a lesson. He cannot do that if the weapon doesn’t detonate; therefore, he has no reason to help Jack stop it.

Moving on from a rather quick and dirty lesson in the politics of hatred, the writers correct an early mistake by actually remembering that Heller’s son Richard had been implicated in his father’s abduction. One could wonder why that potential lead was forgotten while they were looking for anything related to Marwan for several episodes on end, but at this point, the reasons are obvious. With a more or less solid connection between Richard and Marwan, there’s a new direction for the investigation to take.

Tony, despite warnings to the contrary, informs Audrey that her brother is being brought in. This makes a certain amount of sense after Tony comments yet again on the state of Jack and Audrey’s relationship. Tony knows that Jack is the one who always gets to do the fun stuff, and so of course, Jack is in the position to torture one of Audrey’s loved ones.

Things get mildly more insane when plans to bring Marwan back to CTU are put on hold when some of Marwan’s associates stage an attack on the convoy and get away with the boss. Jack and Curtis are left reeling, but there’s little time to waste. Whatever advantage CTU thought they had by capturing Marwan is already off the table, so they’re better served by placing emphasis on Richard Heller. It’s logical, even if having Marwan abducted lets the audience off the hook, since they don’t have to work all that out on their own.

In a rare moment of addressing one of the major concerns of the audience, the Speaker of the House (Donald Ashton) takes rather obvious issue with the prominence of Palmer’s advice in the Logan White House. Ashton has a very simple and entirely valid objection to Palmer’s presence: it violates every reasonable expectation under the circumstances. Indeed, Logan himself has noted that Novick and Palmer have all but taken control of the Presidency. Ashton has every right, beyond his desire for grabbing power, to wonder if there’s been a coup.

Continuing the long and now almost certain path towards Tony’s heroic demise (something that would be folly, now that the series has been renewed for two more seasons), there’s an incredibly sappy scene between Tony and Michelle. The dialogue and music in this scene is absolutely horrible and corny, to the point of excess, and it feels designed to get the two back together before a massive tragedy.

Richard’s panic is entirely justified, given how things went during his last stay in Casa CTU, and it does nothing but amplify Audrey’s fears when she learns that Jack will be running the interrogation. Her suggestion is logical enough, and Jack has every reason to hope that Richard will let his terror loosen his tongue. Of course, what the writers have in mind is something more subversive. The implication is that Jack is giving in to Audrey because of his emotions, after all, and rather quickly, that is cast in a negative light.

When Ashton really begins to place pressure on Mike to abide by the rule of law and the intent of the voters (questionable territory at best), Logan seems lost as to the solution. Palmer is more than happy to provide a solution right out of the “Incredibly Obvious” playbook. If the whole business with the Chinese (suddenly no longer a problem) wasn’t a disturbing sign that Palmer learned a few bad habits from Sherry, his naked machinations in this episode clinches the deal.

Audrey’s interrogation technique is completely ineffective, which seems to be the point that the writers are trying to make. The message is that Jack’s methods are the correct methods, and that Audrey’s way doesn’t cut it. Indeed, as with the earlier episodes of the season, Audrey’s father falls solidly behind Jack and his work ethic, even when it comes to family. Unless there’s a reversal, it looks like Jack is still held in some respect in the eyes of the Secretary of Defense.

The revelation that Richard is gay seems tossed into the mix needlessly. Again, what is the implication? That Richard’s sexuality, being non-conservative, is somehow tied to his inability to protect his family and the country? For that matter, Richard’s insistence that he didn’t know that his liaison was an issue doesn’t fit with his portrayal earlier in the season; at that point, he was happily making decision to embarrass his father. Whatever the case, it does give the writers a way for CTU to get closer to the truth without immediately discovering the real twist of the episode.

Chloe tracks down the location of the couple that Richard was cavorting with, and when Jack can’t get backup from Curtis, he asks for Tony. That, taken in context with Tony’s earlier scene with Michelle, made the writers’ intentions crystal clear. Michelle’s last minute decision to leave CTU with Tony at the end of the crisis and reboot their relationship is also a very bad sign. Tony fans…get ready for heartache.

The whole exercise of fooling the Cabinet into believing Logan is the real authority is so transparent that it never should have worked. Palmer doesn’t even do a good job of hiding the fact that he engineered the whole thing, and Logan doesn’t have the gravitas to deliver forceful commands. But the more disturbing thing is that Palmer essentially got the President to hand him all the power. Logan is little more than a mouthpiece, and he’s not even fighting it. This definitely presents Palmer as far more sinister than he’s been in the past.

Continuing the soap opera element of the episode, Jack once again calls Audrey from the World’s Quietest Helicopter, reminding her that this is the kind of world that he was trying to escape. She doesn’t seem inclined to forgive him for doing the job that had to be done, apparently forgetting that he only got himself involved when it was her life at stake. Perhaps someone needs to remind her of that. Again, with the series renewed for two more seasons, unless something very unexpected happens, Jack might want to prepare himself for disappointing results from his “Stay Away from CTU” plan.

The episode is largely redeemed, however, when the camera shifts to Mandy in all her sweaty naked glory. Mandy has been a fan favorite since the beginning. Not only is she gorgeous (Mia Kirschner is a goddess), but the writers always seem to do her justice. Mandy is a cold-hearted mercenary, and in this case, she happily slaughters her lover, used to ensnare Richard Heller, to ensure her own escape. She’s not just a bad girl; Mandy’s Pure Evil.

There’s a certain amount of writing prowess involved in the final few scenes. For one thing, it’s impressive that Tony and Castle are assigned together, since Castle initially wanted nothing to do with Tony. It helps drive home the fact that Tony’s current situation is light years beyond where he started this season. But more importantly, it lets the writers take out a semi-regular and leave Tony as a hostage. Mandy deals with the situation with dispassionate surgical precision, and with every cut to Michelle’s stricken face, Tony’s fate is entirely clear. Unless something miraculous happens, Tony doesn’t have a chance. (And they better not kill Mandy either, because she’s too good in small doses to kill off!)

This is the kind of uneven episode, like the one with Chloe’s misadventure, that gains strength from the final act. The soap opera elements don’t do much to give the episode credibility, especially when even the score is overdone. There are also some disturbing messages along the way: Richard’s sexuality is tied to his overall weak morality, Audrey’s soft approach is shown as useless compared to Jack’s methods, and Palmer’s takeover is a bit too simple for comfort. Mandy (hot, sweaty Mandy!) makes up for a lot of that, as well as the fact that the writers finally deliver on all those hints (going back to that scene in his apartment) that Tony might not survive. With two episodes left, and that pesky nuclear missile still up there somewhere, things look to end in typically violent and lethal fashion.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was a bit less focused than the previous two installments. Instead of focusing on a common theme for the major characters, the plot threads diverged into different areas. One character has been on the road to a possible demise all season long, and it’s even more apparent by the end of this hour. There are more dubious messages along the way as well. The episode is saved, however, by a character reveal at the end that many will adore.

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

Final Rating: 7/10

Season Average (as of 4.22): 6.9

Enterprise 4.21: "Terra Prime"

Written by Manny Coto, Andre Bormanis, and Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens
Directed by Marvin Rush

In which Archer races against time to stop Paxton and his Terra Prime movement from destroying Starfleet HQ, while Trip and T’Pol deal with the fact that their child is dying…


Captain’s Log

This episode is likely to be overshadowed by the series finale, which aired immediately after. The oddity is that Berman and Braga wrote the series finale as a sendoff for the modern franchise, not as a finale to “Enterprise” per se. As a result, Manny Coto made sure to use this episode as a kind of pseudo-finale for the series, leaving the final episode itself to its own devices. It works on a certain level, but there are some weaknesses in the Terra Prime story that leave this episode a bit lacking.

Paxton continues with his endgame, warning Earth that unless all aliens are sent packing, Starfleet HQ will be wiped out using the array on Mars. To make his point about the threat to humanity, he broadcasts pictures of the Human/Vulcan hybrid baby, playing on the fears of a population scarred by recent events and a couple of generations of annoyance at Vulcans. Archer is ordered to destroy the array itself and protect Earth, but he wants to attempt a surgical strike.

This gives Trip and T’Pol the chance to meet their child, created using cloned cells from the Enterprise medical lab. Taken in context with Gannett’s claim regarding her position with Starfleet Intelligence, it makes a bit more sense out of the problem of the hybrid’s creation. It might have been more interesting for a linkage to be made between Gannett and Reed’s old friend in this era’s Section 31; as it is, it’s bad enough that her entire interaction with Mayweather was a means to an end, since it doesn’t really make sense. If Gannett wanted on Enterprise to identify the Terra Prime operative, staying in Mayweather’s quarters most of the time would be counter to her mission!

The writers are going for an emotional arc in this episode that doesn’t quite come together. Too many things need to happen in this episode for it to pack the punch that the writers were looking for. The early part of the episode is supposed to establish a bond between parents and child, and yet the only one with any credible connection to the baby is T’Pol. Trip spends most of his time dealing with Paxton and his maniacal plans to forge a bond.

One can look back on the previous episode and conclude, to a certain extent, that it provides more than enough evidence of Trip’s psychological acceptance of the child and his emotional bonds to it. If that was the intention, then it didn’t come across strongly enough to overcome the other concerns of the episode. Perhaps it’s simply that the audience was more focused on the fact that the series was coming to an end, and thus there were thematic concepts in play. Whatever the case, the early part of the episode doesn’t necessarily provide the setup required to make the impact of the second half of the episode equal to the intention.

Baby Elizabeth does allow for an interesting exploration of T’Pol’s psychology, coming from the perspective of the recent loss of her mother. T’Pol tried very hard to fall in line with the changes on Vulcan, but she’s ultimately been forced to accept the fact that she’s not so good at controlling her emotions. That said, she does a very good job of concealing the depth of her pain. She likely thought that motherhood was not an option, given her status in Vulcan society. To lose the past and the future in the space of months is a crushing blow.

T’Pol does, however, get to confront Paxton regarding his medical status. Here, the writers fail to capitalize on a rather obvious connection between the Colonel Green movement and Paxton’s own crusade. Instead of having Paxton’s genetic illness be the result of World War III radiation and the failure of Green’s movement, the writers simply give him a medical condition that requires alien medical technology to keep him alive. It does highlight Paxton’s hypocrisy, but the source of the illness could have had a much more powerful linkage to past racism. (There’s a conceptual through-line between the Eugenics Wars, Colonel Green, and Paxton that is left unaddressed, which is disappointing, to say the least.)

With the final real “Enterprise” episode comes Hoshi’s first try at command, which is an interesting choice coming on the heels of “In a Mirror, Darkly”. Hoshi is placed in an impossible situation. On the one hand, she’s loyal to Archer and his principles in terms of saving lives; on the other, the most expedient solution is a strong offensive against the terrorists, and Samuels is not afraid to press that point of view.

The second act is almost entirely made up of Trip’s attempt to sabotage Paxton and then escape incarceration while Archer and his team use a comet to sneak onto Mars soil. This is a nice CGI sequence, though it sometimes doesn’t live up to expectation; now and then, the shots out of the shuttlepod windows don’t match the exterior shots. It’s actually a rather strong representation of a theoretical “terra-forming” concept: redirecting comets and other objects into polar regions to stimulate climate changes.

During the original run of “Babylon 5”, some jaded fans scoffed at the idea of a Mars where people could get away with a respirator and a good winter coat. Even worse were the comments regarding the studio and CGI shots of people on the surface of Mars. Many thought that these issues were simple a sign of a very low budget. Ironically, nearly identical costumes and sets are present in the far better funded “Enterprise” version of Mars, 10 years later! (I guess Mars wasn’t so poorly rendered on “Babylon 5” after all, hmm?)

The confrontation between Archer and Paxton is a bit too staged. By the time it comes along, Terra Prime looks less and less impressive. It starts out as a movement with members in every possible nook and cranny of Human society; that being the case, where are the riots? Protestors outside of embassies should have been a norm since the Xindi attack, if the writers were going for realism, so that’s just more of the same. “Home” put the undercurrent of anti-alien hysteria on the table, so that’s also just more of the same. So beyond his little super-weapon, what else does he have?

Paxton shouldn’t have been a threat, but the big window (mentioned prominently in the first act of the first half of the story; thank you very much, Mr. Chekov) becomes a convenient plot device. By the time Archer took a precise position in front of the window, it was obvious what was going to happen. That stole away some of the dramatic tension of the scene, since it was obvious that Paxton’s plan wouldn’t result in the destruction of Starfleet HQ. Overall, Paxton’s little racist movement was little more than a blip on the historical radar, and hardly as important to Earth history as the events this season on Vulcan or Andor(ia).

The real impact of the episode comes with the revelation that the genetic work conducted by Terra Prime’s scientists included a deliberate flaw, which in turn dooms the child to a rather quick and premature demise. This doesn’t quite match up with the beginning of “Demons”, since technically the scientists weren’t planning to kill the child, so much as let it die of its own genetic shortcomings. But it’s never easy to see a baby with a terminal illness, because they are unaware of how things should be, and thus will never know how happy they could have been. While T’Pol’s frantic desire to save her child is genuine and Trip’s emotions finally show up when he names their doomed daughter Elizabeth, it’s Phlox that delivers the most emotional moment, speaking what the audience is already thinking.

There’s also the somewhat anti-climactic resolution to the subplot about a Terra Prime operative on Enterprise. It might have been interesting if the traitor was some minor character that had been lurking in the background, perhaps even a MACO. Kelby would have been a very good choice, given how his career was messed up big time by Trip’s relationship with T’Pol. Instead, it was a walk-on with terrible acting skills.

The final act does include, however, one of the more stirring speeches by Archer, when he essentially saves the proto-Federation conference. Granted, all the major players were already in the same room, which a cancelled conference wouldn’t imply, but it works on a dramatic level. This scene would have been a nice ending to the regular episodes of the series if the final episode were going to be something really special. But given how the series does end, this just doesn’t give the series a proper send-off. There’s a sense of closure, but it’s not as powerful as the end of “Enterprise” demands.

The final scene starts off very strong, but it quickly becomes awkward. Trip’s emotions overflow, as they should, and the two star-crossed lovers share their grief. But then Trip gets to deliver matters of scientific interest (geared towards tying unfortunate Elizabeth to the future Spock) while weeping. The first time around, it just doesn’t work at all; it gains something in repeated viewing, but it’s still not the best scene to end the episode with.

While the concept is relatively strong and in keeping with the idea of the major worlds of the future Federation evolving into that sociological state, the execution leaves much to be desired. Paxton is not as compelling a villain as he might have been, and part of it is the intentional casting of Peter Weller as a talking point for fans of “Odyssey 5”. The focus on Mayweather also does little more than to highlight his lack of acting skill. More Phlox scenes are a good thing, and the writing is better in this installment, but it’s still not enough to overcome the weakness of the concept.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode continued the disappointment that began with “Demons”. The terrorists in this episode are not nearly as threatening as the writers want them to be, and that makes the changes on Earth prior to Federation somewhat less involving than the changes on the other critical worlds. The presence of so many writers is felt from act to act; some scenes pack more emotional resonance than others, and the tone varies dramatically from act to act.

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

Final Rating: 6/10

Season Average (as of 4.21): 7.5

Sweeps Review Schedule

Well, we're now knee-deep in season finales, and like the beginning of the year, the schedule is loaded. This time, it's not just "24" and "Alias"...every series I review has to have a double-loaded night! This is a busy time in every respect, but here's where I see it all falling out, in terms of review posting schedule:

5/16 (Mon) - Enterprise 4.21: "Terra Prime"
5/17 (Tue) - 24 4.22: "Day 4: 4AM - 5AM"
5/18 (Wed) - Enterprise 4.22: "These are the Voyages..."
5/19 (Thu) - Lost 1.23: "Exodus I"
5/20 (Fri) - Alias 4.20: "The Descent"

5/23 (Mon) - Alias 4.21: "Search and Rescue"
5/24 (Tue) - 24 4.23: "Day 4: 5AM - 6AM"
5/25 (Wed) - 24 4.24: "Day 4: 6AM - 7AM"
5/26 (Thu) - Lost 1.24: "Exodus II"
5/27 (Fri) - Lost 1.25: "Exodus III"

5/31 (Tue) - Alias 4.22: "Before the Flood"

It's very possible that some of this could slip, and the weekends are going to be even more packed than usual. (Never mind that I can barely put two thoughts together lately, thanks to allergy season!) But I'm going to try, especially since "Enterprise" is done, and with the exception of "Lost", most of my new reviews won't be back on the schedule until 2006.

***

That brings up an interesting situation. I'm down to 3 current series that I review. By the end of the summer, I'll definitely be done with "Firefly" and "Roswell". I currently have no plans to add anything new to the schedule, even though the reviews of "Lost" have led to a massive increase in site traffic and strong positive feedback.

The push over the summer and through the fall will be to rip through the "catch-up" reviews for "Buffy", "Angel", and "X-Files". I also want to take some time to make serious progress on "Morituri" and finish this epic XF fanfic once and for all. I'm often weary of it, but the fact is, the story keeps demanding to be told, so I'm sticking with it until it's done or clearly never going to be.

So when "Roswell" is over review-wise, I'm not going to toss anything new into rotation just yet. I'm going to be concerned mostly with exorcising other old demons, so to speak, and then focusing on future projects. I suspect that by the fall, I'm going to have a better sense of where this is all going; right now, I'm thinking that the focus will be on "Lost", "24" and "Alias" reviews.
Beyond that, it's up in the air; it's going to have to be something really promising for me to add it. (Before anyone asks...sorry, I'm not adding "Battlestar: Galactica" right now.)

But I do want to say that I appreciate all the support that I've gotten over the past few years. This has been a huge season for me in terms of excitement and overall feedback. There's been the usual scrapes with trolls, but for the most part, I've gotten a lot of strong support and even a little credibility in some circles. This time last year, I was lucky to get 200 hits per month to my homepage; now I'm at 1200+ hits/month, and the entire site overall is getting 20000+ hits/month. In the early days, I'd be happy if my XF reviews got a total of 25 hits; now, my "Lost" reviews top 1000 hits just between airings!

With ratings like that, is it any wonder I'm renewing myself for another season?

***

More to come soon...I'm hoping to do a wrap-up of thoughts on the seasons for series I don't review weekly, when I get the brain power to do it...LOL...

Alias 4.19: "In Dreams..."

Written by Jon Robin Baitz
Directed by Jennifer Garner

In which the imposter Sloane is captured, forcing the real Sloane to reveal his true intentions while running Omnifam and delve into his own past for the key to preventing Yelena’s plan…


Status Report

As revelations go, this episode packs more of them into one hour than practically any other episode of “Alias” since “Full Disclosure”. In the course of four acts, the writers took four seasons worth of character development for Arvin Sloane and made perfect sense of it by placing bookends on his 30+ years of Rambaldi obsession. In the process, Sloane’s status as one of the most complex “villains” currently on television is secured.

Comparisons have been made between “Alias” and “X-Files”, and once again, there are some elements that are shared. The difference seems to be a consistency that was missing from the “X-Files”, because the lingering plot elements are coming together nicely in this series’ fourth season. If Sloane was patterned somewhat after the mastermind of the “X-Files” mythology, Cancer Man, at least in this case the writers have taken the time to explain Sloane’s motivations in full. Not only is he obsessed, but his obsession is now revealed as the result of the terrible loss of a child.

All season long, Nadia has served a dual purpose: her personality brings out the best and worst in Sydney, and her presence gives Sloane a reason to seek redemption. Her relationship to and with Sydney is likely to become a central factor in the season finale, but for quite some time, she’s been the grounding rod in Sloane’s complicated life. She’s the one reason why he could turn back from the brink of madness and self-righteous villainy.

The best villains are, of course, the ones that don’t consider themselves to be evil. Sloane falls squarely in that category. Sloane suffered a terrible loss of a daughter, and as such, he wanted to prevent pain and suffering in the world. He simply saw it as a matter of short-term sacrifice made justifiable by long-term reward. In the end, the Rambaldi plan wouldn’t just render immortality, but it would also recreate the human race in Rambaldi’s conception, rooting out the aggression and violence that causes such pain.

Suddenly Sloane’s obsession with drinking water, so evident since the third season premiere when his creation of Omnifam was revealed, is given context. The Mueller device is given a purpose. Oddly enough, the Circumference could still contain the water with the “additives”, as per “Almost Thirty Years”, even as it serves as an override to the genetic alterations of Rambaldi’s grand plan. The preserved flower of “The Passage”, though not directly referenced, suddenly gains a possible meaning: not only was it preserved over time in a perfect state, but it was also a critical piece of the Rambaldi puzzle.

This also explains why certain people would be so eager to implement the changes under their own watch. The one who implements the Rambaldi design would also have the ability to control those altered by the Rambaldi formula. Sloane, Yelena, the Magnific Order, the Covenant…all of them are actually under the impression that the world would be better if they were the rulers of a planet of drones. And more to the point, that’s exactly the kind of thing that Rambaldi, having suffered so much in his own life, would want to see: a world where war and strife are a thing of the past.

The “genetic alteration” scheme is obviously meant to be implemented on several fronts. The water additives (reminiscent of latter-day “X-Files”) were distributed to the third world countries, but what about the industrialized world? Nightingale might work better on a large scale, and perhaps the Circumference devices (at least the really big ones) are meant to hold the water or serum necessary to expose large populations quickly. Whatever the case, while Sloane was busy trying to save the world from itself, Yelena (possibly as leader of the Covenant) was working on how to use Sloane’s own actions against him.

What would be the purpose of using a Mueller device to incite violence in those modified with the Rambaldi formula? For someone looking to take control of the world after the change, it would be an easy way to control through fear. The premise is this: “Accept the change and our rule, or look what kind of mindless army we can unleash.” Yelena is apparently more than willing to implement this plan.

How does this fit with the rest of the Rambaldi mythology? It makes a lot of sense, actually. Irina’s endgame, which was never as simple as it seemed, is now revealed as a lifelong attempt to prevent Yelena from completing her plan. Irina always told Sydney that “truth takes time”, and certainly, it has taken a few years for the hidden truths to be revealed. Irina’s endgame, of course, looks to be revealed at the end of the season as well. In the end, Irina could turn out to be as tragic a figure as Sloane.

Turning back to Sloane: it looks like this episode explains a bit more about what he was trying to find at the end of the third season. Nadia become the living embodiment of everything he wanted and lost so long ago, and thus the one thing that could replace Rambaldi in his life. Thus Sloane was set on his current path: trying to protect Nadia and Sydney from being implicated in Yelena’s attempt to take advantage of what Sloane created, while also using the APO resources to combat Yelena and reverse the damage.

Other aspects of the Rambaldi endgame are suggested. Was the Page 47 prophecy related to this pacification program or something else? Is Sydney meant to be tempted by anger and rage into using the Mueller device to wreck havoc, with Nadia fated to prevent that from happening? The sisters are meant to war over control of something, and it certainly looks like the Circumference fits the symbolism of the Eye of Rambaldi. Or will they switch roles, should Nadia learn about Jack’s assassination of Irina? For that matter, Sloane could slip back into Rambaldi madness again, and Nadia’s trust is tenuous as it is. (After all, “the greatest power” could very well be Rambaldi’s own endgame.)

There’s also the little question of whether or not the rebirth of Rambaldi, meant to be a melding of Sydney and Rambaldi’s genetic materal, ties into this pacification plot. Was the reborn Rambaldi meant to control the new humanity? In that case, those plans could still be in effect; imagine if the end of the fourth season prevents Yelena’s plan but ends up exposing Sydney to the prospect of a possible Rambaldi baby. (Yep…that addresses ye olde Rumour Mill!)

In terms of the Sydney/Nadia parallel, both now have reason to believe that their fathers have concealed something terrible from them. As usual, it seems that Sydney is the less reasonable of the two. At least Sloane actively took the steps to create the false Rambaldi serum and introduce it to a huge chunk of the world population. Jack found out about it and then developed a strategy to contain the damage. Sydney’s not seeing the big picture. Exactly what else was Jack supposed to do, other than place constraints around Sloane and further implementation of the technology?

It definitely feels as though this season is designed to wrap up the Rambaldi threads in a major way. In fact, so many things are coming together that it’s going to be quite interesting to see how much is still left on the table. Going back to the days of SD-6 and the Mueller device from the first season, the flower from “The Passage” and Sloane’s connection with Emily in the second season, Omnifam and Sloane’s purpose in the third season, and revealed the scope of Sloane and Jack’s pact, this episode takes a season with minimal Rambaldi elements and drops it squarely into the biggest Rambaldi gambit yet.

In fact, there was so much happening in this episode that it had to be a major challenge for Jennifer Garner as a directorial debut. Indeed, that was the main weakness of this episode. The pacing was the definition of “frenetic”, and it almost felt like the editing was designed to ensure that no scene lingered too long. While this kept events moving at a blistering pace, it also lessened the emotional impact of Sloane’s painful memory recovery process, which should have been mined more sympathetically.

Jen was also visibly distracted; in several scenes, she wasn’t playing Sydney in character, as if a bit too aware that she was stepping out from behind the camera to make an on-screen appearance. Only the scene with Jack at the beginning felt natural, though that scene also brought a possible plot thread to an abrupt end; it was way too easy for Jack to be cured so quickly. But now that the genetic alteration aspect of Nightingale is tied to a much larger Rambaldi plot, it’s easy enough to forgive. And getting to watch the APO staff spar with Arvin Clone, even for just a little while, was worth the price of admission!

If this episode is any indication, the last three episodes of the season are going to be filled with shifting alliances, tons of uncovered truths, and more Rambaldi than anyone could have ever asked for. It’s been great seeing so much of Dixon in the field, and even Nadia got to step into Sydney’s usual shoes. The writers seem to be setting Nadia up for some serious heartache, since Sloane chooses her in this episode, but could easily fall back into the Rambaldi addiction if things continue to expose him to old patterns.

Consider this: for the first time, all the major players are going to be front and center by the series finale: Sydney, Nadia, Jack, Sloane, Irina, Yelena. Plots going back as far as the beginning of the series will finally be revisited. And that’s just what is apparent from the past few episodes. There’s no telling how crazy things will get in the next couple of episodes (though running episodes 20 and 21 on the same night could kill some fans)! What is certain is that the series will likely be forced into another premise shift, and unlike the third season, the anticipation of the finale is unlikely to be disappointed.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is a tour de force of series mythology, touching on elements from every season and linking them together with revelations about Sloane and his motivations. Like the previous installment, this episode is about one character’s psychology, and it benefits from that focus. Jennifer Garner’s directorial debut is a bit too frenzied at times, sapping some of the emotional punch, but the dense content makes up for it.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Season Average (as of 4.19): 7.6

Lost 1.22: "Born to Run"

Written by Edward Kitsis, Adam Horowitz, and Javier Grillo-Marxarch
Directed by Tucker Gates

In which the prospect of rescue prompts Kate to make a bid to replace someone on the raft, which in turn forces Sawyer to play dirty and reveal her secret…


Status Report

With the season drawing to a close, at least some questions are being answered (or heavily implied). Sometimes it’s interesting to consider what assumptions the writers are making about the audience. In previous episodes, critics have complained about how simple and obvious the metaphors can be, but it’s quite possible that the writers are taking into account the possibility that the audience isn’t thinking in that kind of philosophical mode.

For instance, was Kate’s back story conceived for an audience generally ignorant of the darker side of childhood? Or was it designed to play on and then defy those in the audience who can draw specific conclusions based on the evidence? If the writer assumes that the kind of abusive past childhoods that are a standard in the works of authors like Charles de Lint are foreign to the masses, then that kind of background would be sufficiently shocking. But if the writers assumes that such knowledge is the baseline, then it could be much worse.

The point is that what constitutes an “answer” can be very different for different people. If someone were to suggest that Kate was abused and thus committed a crime that forced her out of town and on the run, then some people would be satisfied. Others would insist that the questions about Kate weren’t answered and that the writers were dodging the bullet yet again. Still others would accept that such a suggestion is a good transition point, allowing for future exploration as Kate undergoes her likely redemptive journey.

A likely scenario (based on the hints in this episode) would be as follows: Kate was part of a family where the mother was physically abused and the oldest daughter is being sexually abused, possibly to shield a younger sibling from similar abuse. This oldest daughter falls into a cycle: getting driven closer and closer to violence, running away, and then coming back out of guilt and worry over exposing the younger sibling to danger. Sooner or later, the oldest daughter breaks the cycle by either running away for good or, more pertinent to this scenario, killing the father. And of course, the apologist mother disowns the oldest daughter for it.

If the writers are assuming that this kind of scenario is sufficiently dark and unusual enough for Kate, then this might be in the ballpark. But if the writers are expecting the audience to assume this, and they have something worse in mind, then this could get very, very ugly. After all, the evidence as depicted is rather clear: Kate was forced on the run, changing identities constantly, after killing a man, and it was bad enough that she couldn’t come back to town and her own mother was terrified of her. The above scenario would fit the evidence well.

It would go a long way towards explaining her distant approach with men, even when she’s obviously interested in them, and the death of her childhood sweetheart (which she causes) only adds to the psychological scarring. Thus Kate’s penchant for lies and evasion makes sense, since she’s been doing it for years.

Whether or not the above scenario proves out over time, there were predictable elements to Kate’s back story. Each successive plot element led to a predictable outcome. As soon as the picture of Tom and his son was prominently shown, it was obvious that he would die. More than that, it didn’t take much to figure out that he was the original owner of the toy plane, and that Kate was responsible for his death. Despite the predictability, it was filled with a sense of constant dread. By the time the rest of the survivors discovered Kate’s fugitive status, that was the least of the problems facing Kate. The real question is: what isn’t Kate running from?

This episode goes a long way towards explaining why Kate is torn between Jack and Sawyer. Kate sees a lot of Tom in Jack, and she’s usually disappointed in Jack when he doesn’t measure up to the man she remembers. But she sees in Sawyer a kindred soul, someone else running from a traumatic moment from which he’s never recovered. Jack brings out the same good qualities that she could share with Tom, while Sawyer is the man that she thought could understand her as she is.

That’s what hurts her so deeply at the end of the episode: the fact that Sawyer doesn’t consider himself the same. For all that Sawyer has been the most distrusted person on the island next to Locke, he thinks her capable of far worse. And indeed, considering that she was willing to see someone poisoned to get her way, Kate is exactly as terrible a person as Sawyer thinks she is. And given all the other horrible things she’s done, she has an awful lot of baggage.

What’s interesting is that Kate is now in a position where she can no longer run from her past. The rest of the survivors know about her past, and they are now far less likely to trust her. Any prospect of rescue now means her capture. And it’s not as if she can simply slip into a new identity and be done with it. As long as she’s on the island, she lives with that past and its consequences. But of course, that’s the perfect position for her to be in, since until now, she’s had little incentive to open up and let the island truly change her.

Beyond Sun, the one she’s likely to open up to is Jack. But she’s actively lying to him about things, and to tell him the real story could take more than she’s willing to give. For now, of course, there are other concerns. Jack is still getting used to the idea of the hatch and what it could mean. As the de facto leader, he also has a lot of damage to repair in terms of the camp and their sense of safety. It doesn’t look as though that’s going to happen any time soon.

While Kate and Sawyer engage in their little battle of wills (and who would have thought that Sawyer would end up being the more classy one in that struggle?), Sayid takes a bit of a backseat. This is entirely appropriate, but it’s good to see him used in a logical manner, pushing Locke’s secrets into the light. In the process, he’s showing Boone more respect than killing Locke would have equaled; getting Locke to reveal his motives and give Boone’s death meaning is a fitting way to remember him.

While Shannon doesn’t get a line in, her very angry and bitter presence is more than a little felt. That look she shot Kate could have leveled entire cities! Hurley is also not in the episode much, but as usual, he manages to move information around at the exactly wrong time. He certainly makes things more complicated for Jack, who gets some of that self-righteousness tossed back in his face.

Charlie and Claire are looking more and more like the happy couple, and that’s a very good thing. The series needs at least one good relationship, one the audience can get behind and support, even if it can only last so long. After all, the writers are unlikely to let Charlie go too long without messing something up, and there is that whole mess regarding Turniphead that’s still to be triggered.

When Michael went ill, it was logical for Locke to think that it was Walt. But Walt is now filling the role that Fiver plays in the novel “Watership Down”. He recognizes that opening the hatch is a very bad, bad thing, and he also sees that doing so is going to unleash all manner of hell on the survivors. (Hence, the symbolism of the shifting trade winds and the coming season of storms.) For Walt to change his mind about staying on the island so abruptly and completely speaks volumes.

Locke’s stock has certainly fallen, but he makes a very good point about Jack. Leadership always involves judgment values when it comes to dispensing truth, and Jack has concealed just as much information as Locke. Had Jack been the one to find the hatch, would he have told everyone about it? He might not have been so dedicated to hiding the truth or so assured of the rightness of his actions, but it wouldn’t have been that much less self-righteous. The real question is whether or not the other survivors will begin seeing the similarities and start wondering if Jack should really be the leader.

It’s inevitable that some in the audience will consider this episode to be a waste of time, yet another failure to advance the plot. Like the previous episode, this is hard to understand. Many questions about Kate are answered; don’t answers regarding the characters and their pre-flight activities count? Or is it only about the plot-specific answers? On that end, the writers continued to move the pieces into place for the season finale, which is going to unfold over the space of three glorious episodes, all while answering some key questions about the main characters’ psychology. The “resolution” phase of the first season arc has revealed critical aspects of Sawyer, Locke, Jack, Sayid, and now Kate. It’s not a major assumption to think that the psychology revealed in those earlier episodes will play heavily into the events of the season finale and beyond.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was another strong character piece, even if the back story for Kate was filled with predictable moments. Kate makes for a fascinating individual, and one wonders just how deep the pain and misery will go before the source is revealed. The hints and symbolism regarding the season finale and its consequences pepper the episode with disturbing intrigue, and the interplay between Jack and Locke over morality is just plain fun.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Season Average (as of 1.22): 8.0

Roswell 2.17: "Cry Your Name"

Written by Ron Moore
Directed by Allan Kroeker

In which Alex is found dead after a traffic accident and all the evidence points to suicide, but when Liz refuses to believe it, her personal investigation creates unrest among friends…


Status Report

This is the kind of episode that works on several levels, tossing the series into a completely unexpected direction. While the plot would take the character back into the midst of Antar-related insanity, this particular episode is rooted in the realities of the teen experience. It goes without saying that those in the audience with personal experience with the loss of a classmate will find resonance with one or more of the characters; it’s a credit to the writers and actors that the emotions depicted are so clearly communicated.

This particular plot twist was born of two “real world” situations. With the fate of the series all but certain, after yet another reversal by the network, Colin Hanks used his personal business savvy and got a release from his contract. As such, one way or another, Alex was leaving, and the writers had to deal with it. They could have shuffled him off to Sweden again, on the premise that he was torn between Isabel and Leeana, but the producers were also under the impression that the second season was the end of the series. Killing off Alex would help raise the stakes for the final plot arc.

The writing staff came up with the idea fairly early, so the seeds were planted in the episodes as conceived or retooled after the extension of the season was announced. “A Roswell Christmas Carol” was designed to show how far Max is willing to go for a stranger, how deeply his guilt can cut him to the bone, so that his reaction in this episode would make perfect sense. Alex’s comment about aliens killing him in “How the Other Half Lives” was clearly foreshadowing.

By the end of “The Hybrid Chronicles”, the hybrids themselves seemed to come to terms with their Antar legacy. The whole question of destiny vs. free will had been addressed, and the characters were under the impression that they had prevailed. This final plot/character arc pulls that assumption out from under their feet. It’s not a question of whether a person is ruled by predetermined roles or expectations or free to choose their own path; like “nature” vs. “nurture”, it typically comes down to a combination of influences and instincts.

The relationship between Isabel and Alex places all of that into perspective. Isabel has always yearned for a normal life, and yet she was the last one willing to open up to the possibility of a real relationship with a human. That choice was essentially a rejection of the expectations of her Antar destiny, since her history as Vilandra suggested a betrayal (literal or metaphorical) of her brother. Choosing Alex (someone safe and already part of the group) allowed her to appease her brother while also defying the “programming” that was meant to drive her to Michael.

As “The Departure” would eventually reveal, Tess killed Alex after he broke through the mindwarp that concealed the truth about his “trip to Sweden”. The timing of this breakdown is intriguing. It doesn’t seem to have been threatened when Alex was keeping his distance from Isabel, but some time has passed and Alex is now more emotionally involved. The false memories are now conflicting with the fact that he wants to remember, on some level, because it would be important to Isabel.

In the final reveal, Tess is shown to have killed Alex when he confronts her about the truth, and Kyle is forced to help stage the accident to make it look like a suicide. This certainly allows the writers to cast Tess in the role of intentional villain, but it’s not as subtle as it could have been. How much better would it have been if Alex had really committed suicide, all because of the lingering effects of Tess’ months-long mindwarping?

Whatever the case, it’s appropriate for Valenti to come upon the scene and then deliver the shocking news. He lost everything to protect the teens from outside threats, and now he must face the fact that he can’t protect them from themselves or each other. Throughout the episode, for some odd reason, Valenti is almost shown as being in charge, despite the fact that he’s not the sheriff and Hansen has every reason to assert his own authority. One could assume that Hansen is giving Valenti a measure of respect under the circumstances, but it also feels like the writers are trying to have their cake and eat it too.

The news is a shock, but given their history, it’s not surprising that they immediately assume that Max can go and bring Alex back to life. A few things are readily apparent from this scene. First, the rest of the gang has become just as comfortable with treating Max like he can handle anything as Max himself. They completely miss the fact that his inability to bring Alex back, mixed with his own fears and uncertainties about even touching Alex’s body, is tearing Max apart.

Everyone begins dealing with the loss in their own way, but the real shock is how cruelly analytical Liz becomes. It’s close to what one would expect given her personality, but the harsh anger that fuels her desire for some kind of deeper explanation polarizes her reactions to those around her. That anger comes out very quickly when she seems to snap at Max for failing to bring Alex back. Part of it is a reaction to Tess, but it’s also bitterness.

The initial scene between Jim and Kyle seems somewhat out of place in this episode, but in retrospect, it’s clear that the writers had worked out an outline and knew that Kyle should be reacting with a certain numbness and detachment, thanks to Tess’ recent mindwarp. It’s covered by the fact that Kyle seems to be reacting to the fact that the news about Alex happens just before his birthday, but at the time, it felt a little off.

Isabel ends up dreaming about how she wished things could have been had Alex survived, and at least part of her pain is a sense of guilt over how much time she wasted stringing Alex along. This is a guilt that will take a long time to resolve, because in essence, Alex is vulnerable because he becomes so extraneous to the gang that they don’t realize that Tess has gotten her hooks into him. Had Alex been with Isabel, it’s unlikely that Tess would have taken the chance.

Michael, on the other hand, slips into “trusted and loyal” mode, showing exactly how far he’s come since the beginning of the series. Instead of dismissing Alex’s death as a casualty of war, like he would have at the beginning of the season, his concerns are solely for Maria and her mother. In contrast, Sean shows an amazing degree of self-involvement by not even talking to his family about the loss; it’s not hard to look back on Max as a far more appealing match for Liz.

But then, Sean is more interested in checking in on Liz, it seems, because when Max calls, Liz’s mother is expecting New Guy, not Old Guy. But it serves to remind the audience that these teenagers did, in fact, have parents, even if those parents still seem to have issues regarding parenting. There’s absolutely no reasonable explanation for Liz’s parents not to know where she is when she’s clearly in emotional distress.

If Shiri looked radiant in the previous episode, she’s equally compelling in her bitter determination. She seems to lock into her scientific mode a bit too thoroughly, to the point of inspecting blood stains and car wreckage with an air of clinical detachment that some characters on “CSI” would find hard to match. On the one hand, this serves the purpose of allowing one character to uncover evidence while remaining true to form. On the other hand, it reveals a side of Liz that’s hard to love.

The central conflict underlying the episode comes into play when Valenti’s attempt to figure out what happened to Alex begins leading towards an apparent suicide scenario. When Maria is shocked and sickened by Liz and her clinical ways, it speaks to the extremity of Liz’s reaction; still, Liz insists that there’s more to the story. Hansen becomes just as convinced in the suicide theory. Needless to say, when Liz catches wind of it, she’s not amused; she basically takes it as a form of betrayal.

If Michael’s protection of Maria is reminiscent of his role in his former life on Antar, then Isabel’s decision to run away and seemingly abandon her brother sets her in a position not unlike Vilandra. This is where the writers begin to sneak in the concept that some components of destiny are not nearly as obvious as others, especially when psychological aspects are involved. Isabel’s decision to graduate early and leave Roswell is more about her need to run from her own life than betraying everyone else, but it amounts to the same result.

Liz confronts Valenti with the photo that she found in the wreckage, but as presented, it’s more suggestive of Hansen’s conclusion than the one she would prefer. Given where the episode ends up taking the argument, it’s interesting to note that Valenti is the first one to be convinced that Alex killed himself. It’s not initially human vs. hybrid, and it’s not until Max is forced into a position of considering both sides of the argument that he becomes a focus of Liz’s rage.

Max is actually placed in an impossible situation. Liz had come to the conclusion that she and Max need to make a clean break, and yet when things get tough, he’s the first person she runs to for support. Under the circumstances, Max has very little choice but to take on a leadership role. What he doesn’t see is that Liz is trying to use him as a weapon, and it never really occurs to her that Max might draw a difference conclusion from the evidence.

The short but very sweet scene between Michael and Amy drives home the fact that Michael has embraced his relationship with Maria to a completely new level. It also serves the same purpose that the Max/Liz scenes serve: setting these characters up for one hell of a conflict for the rest of the season. But Michael and Maria need to remain closer than the other characters, so it makes sense that the ties would be more tightly bound at this point in the narrative.

The most tragic part of Isabel’s dream is that her thoughts about Alex and how his involvement in her life killed him reflect similar thoughts on the part of Max and Michael. But ultimately, that’s not how it happened. Several times, Max and the others warned Liz and her friends to keep their distance. They initially did everything possible to keep Alex out of the loop. Alex insisted on knowing the real story, especially when he was brought in (at Liz and Maria’s urging) to help Max. Isabel wasn’t the one responsible for getting Alex involved; she was, of course, responsible for not taking him seriously.

Alex’s funeral is about as hard to watch as one would expect, especially since Majandra throws so much genuine emotion into her rendition of “Amazing Grace”. It makes the subsequent confrontation between Max and Valenti that much more realistic, and Max’s profound disappointment that much more crushing. When this is followed by a scene with Liz, resolutely ignoring Mr. Whitman’s feelings by asking to visit Alex’s room, it’s clear where the writers are going.

Liz finds the concert tickets and immediately seizes upon them as evidence backing her position. Of course, that’s not necessarily the case. Plenty of people with suicidal tendencies fall into that kind of “double life”, where most of the time they live life as though everything is fine and the future is bright, but a darker personality sometimes manifests. The writers have Tess toss out the objection to Liz’s theory for plot purposes, but it actually doesn’t stand up on its own regardless.

But Liz takes it another step, far from logical based on the evidence, by claiming that Alex was murdered. Granted, this is exactly what ends up being the truth, but there’s nothing at all in the episode before this point to suggest such a conclusion. It’s not that Liz is wrong in suggesting that Alex is the first of many potential targets; her logic regarding the control the aliens from Antar can exert on humans is sound. She just doesn’t present it as a possible threat to everyone; she makes it very much a question of “us” vs. “them”.

Liz completely crosses the line when she chooses to hold Max responsible for just the possibility that Alex died as a result of alien intrigue. This is where Isabel’s false sense of responsibility comes into play for everyone involved. Liz has no right to blame Max for anything that has happened, because one way or another, Max didn’t make the choice to be in Roswell. Any action taken by Kivar victimizes Max as much as the humans of Earth. More than that, Max cannot be held responsible for not stopping a murderous plot that he doesn’t even know about.

Some are surprised when Michael walks out so abruptly, but looking at it from his point of view, he and his people were just accused of murdering (or allowing the murder of) a friend. Maria didn’t exactly present any objections, and in a way, his efforts to comfort are being tossed back in his face. Feeling are hurt and loyalties are on the line, and Michael is nothing if not loyal to Max when the chips are down. In other words, Michael’s decision to leave with Max is right in line with his “destined” role, whether intended or not.

The montage at the end of the episode is extremely well done, especially the cuts between Alex’s past scenes and Liz’s reaction to his death. If there were no plot-driven requirements to this final scene, Liz’s emotional breakdown would have been the perfect place to end it, because this is really the first time she allows herself to grieve. By tacking on the plot twist at the end, justifying her side of the argument, the writers serve the plot by stealing away some of the emotional power of the story. Fading to black on Liz, in tears, would have been a more fitting choice.

Then again, when it comes to an episode like this, minor creative choices are almost moot. Ron Moore makes up for the lack of resolution in “How the Other Half Lives” by delivering a tight script with more emotional impact than any other episode this season (with the possible exception of “A Roswell Christmas Carol”). There’s only one relatively minor plot contrivance, when Liz makes the leap from accident to murder with nothing in between, but there is a justification for it in the end. As would soon become apparent, the material through the rest of the season was strong, even if the network did everything possible to derail the effort.


Memorable Quotes

MAX: “You can’t compare ‘The Matrix’ to ‘Crouching Tiger’!”
MICHAEL: “’Crapping Tiger’ is a chick flick with kung-fu.”
MAX: “First of all, ‘Crappi-‘…’Crouching Tiger’ is actually about something…love, honor, trust.”
MICHAEL: “’Matrix’ is about something: illusion, reality…gunfire…”
MAX: “You simply can’t prefer Keanu Reaves to Michelle Yeoh. You can’t. (Pause.) I won’t let you.”

AMY: “As far as I’m concerned, you’ll always be welcome in this house.”
MICHAEL: “Thank you.”
AMY: “Welcome on the couch.”
MICHAEL: “Right.”
AMY: “Yeah.”

ISABEL: “I love you, Alex.”
ALEX: “I think we both know…I loved you, too.”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is one of the most emotionally charged of the season, if not the series. All of the character reactions are perfectly in line with their established psychology, and that makes the conflict that arises in the end easier to reconcile. Liz makes a logical leap at the end that isn’t supposed well by the episode as presented, but it’s easily forgiven, considering how well the rest of the episode comes together.

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

Final Rating: 9/10

Buffy 4.13: "The I in Team"

Written by David Fury
Directed by James A. Contner

In which Buffy joins the Initiative, which leaves Willow feeling abandoned, but when her questions and influence on Riley get troublesome, Walsh conspires to take Buffy out of the picture…


Status Report

The main theme of the fourth season was self-identity, and how assumptions about oneself can be challenged when life brings about change. One of the biggest changes in the life of the typical American is the end of high school and the beginning of college, when freedom becomes as much a curse as a blessing. Critical assumptions about the world are revealed as illusion; what seems stable is revealed as fluid. Buffy has struggled to find herself in this new world, and as a result, as changes rip through the lives of her friends, she’s not as connected to their problems and passions as she had been.

The beginning of the episode encapsulates where the season has brought the characters thus far. Giles’ personal situation and isolation was dealt with in the previous episode, but the rest of the Scooby Gang is no better off. Xander is still searching for some sense of direction, and his more immediate need for a career has isolated him from Buffy and Willow. Equally, his relationship with Anya has caused friction, since she is not socially aware in any sense.

Willow has been in something of a funk ever since Oz left, and though they have tried to be patient, their own issues have prevented her from turning to them for comfort. With Buffy falling deeper and deeper into her relationship with Riley, Willow doesn’t have the pseudo-sister to share discoveries with anymore. When she does try to get the gang back together and revive the old bonds, Buffy is still too wrapped up in Riley and the Initiative to see Willow’s loneliness.

Buffy has never had the chance to share her life with someone like Riley, and considering how her Chosen lifestyle makes it hard to make real connections with people, she craves the attention and validation that he provides. She wants to fit into his world, and at first glance, the Initiative looks like a good fit. The problem, of course, is that the Initiative involves military personnel and what’s meant to be military discipline and tactics. Buffy has already rejected outside authority, and while Riley is also looking at her with eyes of love, Professor Walsh has every reason to be concerned about Buffy’s pliability.

Spike is also finding it hard to adjust to his new reality. As Giles points out, Spike has a rather unique opportunity to do something more with his existence, especially since he enjoys the work of beating down demons so very much. Of course, this is odd coming from Giles, given how Giles has plenty of reason to question even Angel’s mission for redemption. Spike doesn’t have a soul, so the idea of a “higher purpose” doesn’t mean a damn thing to him. At least, not at this point, because he hasn’t become obsessed with Buffy enough for it to become a source of meaning.

Nearly every scene, especially in the beginning, becomes an exercise in defying assumptions. A line of dialogue is tossed out, and the assumed meaning is quickly dispelled by the revealed context. For all that, some of the lines don’t make sense, or don’t match what the budget was able to provide. Buffy’s reaction to the Initiative, for instance, is rather more impressive that the real thing.

The episode begins steadily enough, but once Buffy is within the Initiative, things begin to advance very quickly. In this case, it’s a little too quickly. It’s almost as if Joss came along, after fixing the Doyle/Wesley problem on “Angel”, and realized that the plot wasn’t progressing enough. Given the glacial pace of the beginning of the season and the lack of follow-through after “The Initiative”, it feels like several episodes are packed into this one hour.

Buffy is run through the orientation in haphazard fashion, which doesn’t quite mesh with the idea of the Initiative as a covert military operation. However, there is reason to think that Walsh wanted to get her hands on Buffy quickly for personal reasons, all of which are related to the purpose of Walsh’s project from the beginning. Buffy, after all, is a young woman with plenty of personal presence and physical ability. She has all the potential for leadership that one could ask for, but none of the discipline and drive to apply it.

As later episodes would reveal, Walsh’s project within the Initiative has everything to do with creating, through conditioning and biological modification, the perfect demon-killer. Riley and the other commandos were an earlier phase of Walsh’s project: conditioning to follow a strong female leader without question, drugs to enhance physical strength and endurance. That gave her the army necessary to capture demons.

Dr. Angleman (think Mengele) was brought in to implement a behavior modification program, which also meshed with Walsh’s doctoral expertise and desire to eliminate the demonic threat. But he also was willing to implement the next phase: not just using demons against each other, but melding the superior strengths of human, demon, and artificial intelligence into the most effective demon-killing machine imaginable.

Walsh’s goal, of course, is to lead her creations in a war against demons, once and for all. Walsh would see the Slayer as a useful tool, but only as a means to an end. With someone like Buffy, however, Walsh would be threatened, because the behavior modification given to Riley and the others would, under the right circumstances, undermine Walsh’s authority. Riley is the leader of the commandoes, and Buffy has already begun to replace Walsh as an object of devotion. Buffy is also capable of providing “positive reinforcements” that Walsh cannot provide. So for Walsh, the question is whether or not she can control Buffy or, in lieu of that, retain control over Riley.

Meanwhile, Willow is becoming more and more conflicted. She wants to hang out with the old gang, but given their set of priorities, it’s come down to making appointments and hoping everyone shows up. At the same time, Tara (who, this early in, still has major self-confidence issues) wants to spend every possible moment with Willow. Suddenly the Scooby Gang is getting in the way of her new relationship.

The writers reinforce Willow’s feelings of abandonment during the scene at the Bronze. Xander is more interested in making some money than quality time, and Buffy shows up with an entire goon squad trailing behind. It’s no wonder that Willow would much rather be spending the night making magic with Tara! It gets a lot awkward when Buffy basically tells Willow that she’s replaced the Scoobies with a tactical team, and when Buffy seems to get annoyed with Willow’s legitimate concerns.

One thing that is a bit annoying (and this is true with many other series with similar concerns): isn’t it rather conspicuous when every single commando’s pager goes off? It’s like when someone trying to sneak up on a suspect has their incredibly loud cell phone start ringing at maximum volume. Yes, it’s to let the audience know that the pagers/phones are active, but it makes no sense from the perspective of the premise. Wouldn’t a covert operation either use all vibrating pagers, or at the very least, make sure only one person’s pager goes off audibly?

The briefing scene is most obviously designed to highlight Buffy’s inability to fall in line (thus forcing Walsh to deal with everything she bashed Giles about in “A New Man”), but there are also some other important elements covered. The idea that the commandoes are mentally conditioned to obey orders without question, even for clarification, is reinforced. Riley picks Buffy as his second-in-command over Forrest, which begins to set the two friends at odds. And perhaps just as importantly, Angleman and Walsh don’t seem to care about the demons’ goals or the big picture; it’s all about Adam and their little project.

Spike gets a little bit of action in this episode, but it actually ends up causing a minor continuity glitch. Spike seems to have no problem fighting the commandoes, where earlier in the season, he clearly had trouble fighting anyone human. One could rationalize this based on the fact that the commandoes have been altered through drugs and conditioning, but that doesn’t track with the overall treatment of his implant.

In a scene that actually presages Faith’s return later in the season, Buffy and Riley end up fighting the Polgara, only to find themselves incredibly turned on when it’s all over. Buffy always seemed to reject the idea that Slaying was a good reason to unleash all kinds of primal urges, but she certainly gets into the spirit in this episode. More importantly, it firmly established that Buffy is making quick strides in becoming the top woman in his life (no pun intended). What’s interesting is that Buffy is searching for some sense of who she should be, and it’s taking her down the same path that Faith took way too far. The difference, of course, is that Buffy has a support system, and thus Buffy achieves (eventually) a more robust sense of personal balance.

So much happens in the first half of the episode that it actually might have been better to expand on the concepts thus far and save the rest for another episode. This is largely because too much happens in this episode; by the time one reconciles a piece of information, it’s already two steps further in the plot thread. As such, character dynamics change a lot faster than they have all season, especially in terms of Buffy’s relationship with Riley.

Despite not caring much about the Initiative’s goals in the first half of the episode, after sleeping with Riley, she’s suddenly far more worried about it. It’s hard to imagine that it’s just because they want Riley to take a daily regimen of supplements. She comes right out and asks about “314”, despite the fact that if it is something she’s not supposed to know, she’s placing Riley in a highly compromised situation. Symbolically, it works because she’s forcing into the same isolation from his old friends that she has unknowingly chosen for herself.

The reference to “314” is designed, however, to prompt Walsh into eliminating Buffy and her ability to derail the Project. This is a rather abrupt and poorly conceived solution. For one thing, Walsh is supposed to be the authority on the subject of behavioral conditioning. She’s just discovered that someone has gained knowledge of a secret experiment from an unknown source within the Initiative. Does she try to capture and interrogate Buffy, or even use behavioral modification techniques to force Buffy into her mode of discipline? Nope…she just wants Buffy gone.

Also odd is the fact that Xander, calling on some slight remnant of his “military training” from “Halloween”, is that only one who realizes that the device shot into Spike’s back (through his duster but not his shirt, apparently) is some kind of tracer. Considering that most of the audience probably figured it out before Xander, it’s rather bizarre to think that none of the others watched enough film and television to recognize what a tracer is. It also doesn’t make sense for Giles to worry over Spike’s welfare in terms of how much damage is done when taking the tracer out; Spike could quickly heal from a good old-fashioned gouging. (But then, the drama at the end of the episode wouldn’t make sense.)

After a short moment to reinforce the divide growing between Buffy and Willow (each spending the night with their respective new relationships, further suggesting the future for Willow and Tara), Buffy is called in for her suicide mission and Willow is called to help protect Spike from Riley. It doesn’t take long for Walsh’s betrayal to make itself plain, but at the same time, it only exposes how little Walsh and the others understand what “Slayer” means.

Walsh compounds her many other silly mistakes by then assuming that the lack of information from the heart monitor means Buffy is dead. For one thing, it’s rather obvious that if the camera with the biometric sensor is no longer on the person who was wearing it, the heart rate would drop to zero (among other things). Why wouldn’t Walsh know this about the equipment she was using? Especially given what she knows about Buffy and her combat skills?

She doesn’t even bother to turn off the monitors or camera feed before talking to Riley, which just makes no sense at all. Considering that this was supposed to be some kind of contingency plan, prepared in advance, Walsh acts like the whole thing was made up as it went along. It provides a nice visual when Riley watches Buffy appear in the camera, thus exposing Walsh’s lies, but it’s just plain bad writing.

If only to give the writers more time to work out the logic of the story, the episode should have ended with Walsh watching Buffy and Riley in his bed, saving the story to this point for another full episode. Instead, they compound the problem by capping off a ton of quick-fire plot points with a sudden twist: Adam skewers Walsh as he says his first word. Just like that, the season arc begins to really kick in, but at the same time, the audience is left with an awful lot of plot progression to digest.

In essence, this episode is the beginning of a process necessary to get the season arc moving again, since it went nowhere fast for the first half of the season. Unfortunately, as the writers themselves would admit, the result was a situation that they found hard to resolve. Joss had given them the character arcs, including the road map of “Fear, Itself”, but the plot arc didn’t flow nearly as well without clear direction. They wanted the shock of Adam killing Walsh so he could become the Big Bad, but his motivations were unclear with a driving force. The writers eventually worked it out, but as they have often accepted, the road getting there was messy.


Memorable Quotes

WILLOW: “You know how it is with a spanking new boyfriend.”
ANYA: “Yes…we’ve enjoyed the spanking.”

BUFFY: “Tell me about your night.”
WILLOW: “Well, spent most of it at Xander’s teaching Anya to play Poker.”
BUFFY: “That sounds like fun.”
WILLOW: “Yeah…except for the Anya part and the Poker part…”

WILLOW: “Everyone’s getting spanked but me.”
BUFFY: “What?”
WILLOW: “Uh…nothing…”

RILEY: “Hope you don’t mind us tagging along.”
WILLOW: “No, no, of course not. The more, the…more…”

BUFFY: “Don’t worry…I’ve patrolled in this halter many times.”

WILLOW: “Did it work? Is the atmosphere ionized?”
GILES: “I’d venture ‘yes’…”

BUFFY: “If you think that’s enough to kill me, you really don’t know what a Slayer is. Trust me when I say you’re gonna find out.”

GILES: “As long as the Initiative is on operation, it’s not safe for you here.”
BUFFY: “No…it’s not safe for any of us.”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is really a tale of two divergent frames of mind. The first half develops the plot and character arcs in a logical progression; the second half betrays character integrity in the name of plot expediency. The result is an episode that covers way too much and asks the audience to accept way too much getting there. The writers themselves admit that they had a hard time getting out of this mess.

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

Final Rating: 6/10

"Stand Up" and Be Counted!

OK...my copy of "Stand Up" by DMB finally arrived today, and thanks to my near-absolute ability to avoid reviews of the album or even repeated exposure to any of the early single(s), I've been listening to it without any prejudice or expectation. I'm on track #7 ("Everybody Wake Up"), and I've taken a little time to flip through some online reviews...and I'm frankly shocked.

WTF are people expecting? Since when has DMB ever taken their sound and *not* explored new ground? I understand that there are some people that want DMB to act like they're still fresh on the scene, as if time hasn't passed since 1994 or something, but why the hell would they want to restrict themselves like that?

I wasn't a huge fan when "Before These Crowded Streets" came out, but I remember the hue and cry. People thought DMB had gone insane or "jumped the shark" (a phrase that needs to be buried). I got back into the band after "Everyday", when I took a second look on the advice of a friend. And you know what? People ripped that album apart too, despite the fact that a fresh approach yielded some very interesting possibilities. "Busted Stuff" was ripped apart for not being exactly the same as the aborted sessions that originally spawned the songs. Never mind how many fans tore Dave's "Some Devil" into tiny, tiny pieces, just for deviating from some imaginary setpoint.

OK, we're on track #9 now ("Hello Again"), and what I've heard thus far is a challenging album that represents the evolution of the band as a creative force. There are a ton of allusions to the hooks and music of the early DMB era, but there's also a maturity that cannot be denied. The production feel of the album is closer to jazz in some places, R&B in others...it's not commercial, that's for damn sure. But how can people say this doesn't sound like it would work well live?

This is the kind of music I would expect to hear on an unexpectedly amazing night at the local jazz club, or something I might have stumbled on while wandering off of Bourbon Street. There are some production effects that weren't present in the older style, but listen to a song like track #10, "Louisiana Bayou"...this would be incredible live, especially in a smaller setting. This is not an album of arena jams. This is an album of jams on a smaller scale, and it's more personal in the process. This isn't an album of radio friendly fare; this is not cookie-cutter. This is my first time listening, and I'm still wondering why it's taking people more than one listen to even begin to appreciate it. I love the balanced approach...some songs focus on Dave, others on Boyd, others on LeRoi, etc. (To me, it's in the vein of Sting's classic "Dream of the Blue Turtles", which has incredible production values and a similar feel.)

It's about a band long in the tooth finding new ways to collaborate and experiment. It's about playing something more than just the same old songs, sharing something more than the 10,000th version of "Ants Marching". The funny thing is...wait a little while, and people will be standing in the crowd, cheering the band on, while they jam out a live version of a song like track #12 ("You Might Die Trying"), which will never see airplay. It's equally funny to consider, listening to this album close out, how easy it would be to take the studio albums of DMB, toss them in a CD changer, and hit "shuffle"...and watch how it all meshes together.

Oh, and for those who think this is nothing more than "Some Devil II"...if you can't tell the bloody difference, then perhaps you don't know these musicians as well as you think!

24 4.21: "Day 4: 3AM - 4AM"

Written by Joel Surnow and Michael Loceff
Directed by Kevin Hooks

In which the hunt for Marwan comes to a close just Palmer and CTU must deal with the consequences of the raid on the Chinese consulate and the one who led it…


Status Report

If the previous episode was all about making the hard choices, then this episode is the inevitable fallout. A number of characters are forced to make quick decisions based on the unintentional consequences of their choices, and in some cases, characters are presented with the chance for an unexpected redemption. Like the previous episode, this is an example of what “24” can accomplish when the writers have time to layer their improbabilities with intriguing character work.

The most immediate consequence, of course, is the rather apparent disintegration of Jack and Audrey’s relationship. Jack wants so very badly for things to go back to the relatively simple status quo from the previous morning; it’s equally obvious that Jack doesn’t have a chance of getting through to Audrey any time soon. That doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t try, of course, but perhaps he could have waited a little longer; it was painful to watch him struggle with the knowledge that he had run into a problem that sheer willpower simply can’t fix.

It doesn’t really help that everyone else on the planet is telling him that he made the right choice. One of the themes of the episode is “when does the price become too high?”; for Jack, he’s now staring at the initial cost estimate, and he hasn’t even gotten to the part that’s really going to throw his life into turmoil. For that matter, neither has anyone else. Jack’s emotional state is only one casualty in a very long list.

It’s not long before Jack begins to see the scope of the damage. Mike Novick informs him of the Chinese consul’s death, and the possibility of a major international incident. Suddenly everyone on the team needs to have a solid alibi for their whereabouts during the raid. It’s one thing to commit a covert abduction against a foreign power. That’s something that CTU as an organization can cover up, leaving the agents to operate without personal penalty. But as mentioned in the review for the previous episode, only Jack was given the chance to assume personal responsibility; the other agents discover the depth of their culpability after the fact, when it’s too late.

Palmer is left holding the mess with the Chinese together, which becomes a race against several equal threats. On the one hand is the need to blame the raid on some anti-Chinese terrorist group, despite the fact that the White House was calling for Lee Jong moments before he was abducted. It’s obviously a hard sell; thankfully, the writers don’t dance around that fact. But the other problem is President Logan, who is now going to be responsible for allowing a civilian to start a war in his name.

For a moment, it looks like the first problem might be solved. And then the real problem arises: the head of security for the Chinese consulate (Cheng) discovers a video capture with the face of a CTU agent plainly visible. It’s just a matter of time before the thought of “plausible deniability” becomes a moot point, and the countdown begins for someone to take the fall. With less than four hours until the end of the season, it’s clear that a small mistake is all that it might take.

Meanwhile, as usual, Marwan manages to pull in his timetable to account for possible discovery. At this point, he’s not even aware of how other distractions are getting in the way of his capture, so he has no reason to delay. And since he has possession of a missile, his choice of targets is suddenly much larger than previously thought. It’s one thing when CTU figures they have to search in one relatively small region for a nuclear device; it’s quite another for them to stop a missile from striking a city when they don’t even know where it’s launching from!

In a moment that is sure to spark a ton of Jack/Chloe fanfic, Chloe offers (in her usual blunt manner) to help Jack deal with his personal problems by lending a friendly ear. The expression on Jack’s face is priceless. One can only imagine what was running through his head at that moment, but the mixture of incredulous confusion and worry just about covered all the possibilities.

On the other hand, Chloe is only reacting to what is plainly written all over Jack’s face every time he looks in Audrey’s direction. Just dealing with her on a professional basis is like twisting a knife in his own gut. To her credit, Audrey is trying to see things from an objective point of view. Considering how easy it would have been for her to run to Daddy, her restraint is remarkable. (Of course, there’s a lot coming that still suggests such a scenario.) But this is only one distraction among many, and once Agent Bern is identified by the Chinese, it looks to get even harder to stay on task.

It would have been easy for Michelle to say something incriminating while on the phone with Cheng, but she keeps her cool under pressure. That said, her denials and stonewalling, despite being her only real options, just fan the flames with Cheng and prompt him to call on someone much higher up the chain of command. And that means that Logan finds out about the situation and its severity at the absolute worst time.

As stated earlier in the season, it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission, but to do that, one must have a solution to the problem one has created. Palmer and Mike haven’t even determined the scope of the fallout before Logan comes storming in, demanding answers. Since Palmer doesn’t have those answers, he must use an “end justifies the means” rationale to appease Logan. This is deeply ironic, considering the fact that Palmer is essentially using the same logic that he used to find so revolting in Sherry.

The writers, by this point, have begun making a case for a scapegoat: someone needs to take the blame for the operation against the Chinese consulate, and all the evidence points to someone at CTU. They have very little time and energy to construct a convincing house of cards to fool Cheng, and everyone knows it. Tony seems to be filled with regrets about his past choices, especially what it did to his relationship with Michelle. His expression when looking at Cheng, however, is more disturbing, given the context of the next scene.

Cheng recognizes Jack (which is a nice touch, since he should be more recognized now), and he also recognizes that Jack is exactly the kind of operative that could and would lead a raid on a foreign consulate. Just like that, CTU is forced into a defensive posture, because despite all the other reasons for Jack to be present, it does look all too convenient. It looks even worse when Jack needs to leave the room, all in the name of quickly getting Bern out of the office. Instead of devoting resources to Marwan, CTU is dealing with a hastily and poorly constructed cover-up.

As if to make matters even more complicated, Lee Jong wakes up and provides CTU with Marwan’s probable location. Jack assembles a team, including many of those involved in the raid on the Chinese consulate. While there’s little choice in the matter, it must only confirm the likelihood of Jack’s involvement in the abduction from Cheng’s point of view. Creating fake hourly reports on Jack’s activity, and implicating Audrey, just increases the chance that it will all fall apart.

The writers drive the concept home during the confrontation between Jack and Audrey. She wants to know, and deservedly so, whether or not it’s been worth all the broken rules and protocols. From her point of view, the cost of stopping Marwan is getting rather steep. But Jack and the others in CTU must, by their position, operate within that “end justifies the means” mentality. They have to believe that it’s the right thing to do, because otherwise, they can’t do the job. While this is at least partially true, the fact remains that the lies and deceptions are little more than calculated risk; sooner or later, the odds stack against them and their methods fail.

Of course, Cheng knows enough to poke some rather obvious holes in Audrey’s story, which makes it that much more difficult for her to lie. It’s already bad enough that she’s being forced into the position of essentially defending Jack’s choices by covering for them; she doesn’t need Cheng to question her devotion to Paul. It’s likely her conflicted emotions that prevent her from showing the vehemence necessary to sell the idea that her work with Jack was vital. The cracks are showing in CTU’s cover story, and Cheng knows it.

When Palmer discovers that Cheng is getting too close to the truth, he asks Mike to elicit Logan’s help in removing Cheng from the CTU office. Logan is understandably angry about the entire situation, but he has no one to blame but himself. He signed off on the idea of Palmer running the show, intentionally keeping himself out of the loop. Accusing Mike and Palmer of a semi-coup displays a paranoia and lack of self-awareness; if he had been an effective leader, he wouldn’t have handed power over to a consultant in the first place. And for all his bluster, when faced with the concept of kicking Palmer to the curb and taking back his authority, Logan caves.

While Jack and Curtis are leading the raid on Marwan, apparently gaining an advantage for the first time all day, Cheng provides an unexpected reversal. After all, the goal was to place enough doubt on Cheng’s evidence to allow a convenient cover story to take root. A couple days is more than long enough to manufacture a stronger cover-up. But ultimately, Edgar manages to give Cheng exactly the opening he needs. Cheng is certain, by the end of the episode, that Jack led the raid on the Chinese consulate.

After the previous episode, it seemed as though Buchanan was going to make things difficult for Tony. While Buchanan isn’t making another move in this episode, Tony’s expression in several scenes is suggestive, to say the least. Tony seems to be aware, throughout the episode, of the potential for Jack to be named as the one responsible for the death of the Chinese consul. If the Chinese don’t back down, someone is going to have to take the fall, and that someone will likely be at CTU. It almost seems as if the writers are dropping hints that Tony will take the blame to protect Jack.

It would have been easy for the writers to have CTU disarm the missile and prevent the terrorist attack at the end of the hour; after all, three episodes would still be a tight schedule for resolving all the other lingering plot threads. But now there’s the small matter of a missile aimed at an unknown target armed with a nuclear warhead. It’s going to take quite an effort for CTU (or for that matter, anyone else) to prevent a massive catastrophe. If the writers are really thinking outside the box, CTU will fail, but that’s not likely to happen.

Whatever the case, with Marwan now in custody, there’s little question that the major plot threads are quickly being resolved, and as a result, consequences are being meted out on decisions made throughout the day. It’s hard not to get the feeling that Tony is being set up for tragedy; indeed, it would be all to easy for him to sacrifice himself (metaphorically or literally) to save Jack in the end. It’s also hard to imagine that both Palmer and Logan would survive intact; one of them will be blamed for the decision made in Keeler’s absence. This episode brought the focus back on the characters, and as such, it made it that much easier to care about their fate.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode continued the in-depth consideration of the consequences of actions taken in the previous installment. Several characters are forced to defend their choices, and in an interesting move, the drama is generated by the failure to construct a powerful enough set of lies. By focusing more on the characters and their regrets and doubts, the writers give meaning to a story that was lacking it for far too long.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Season Average (as of 4.21): 6.9

Enterprise 4.20: "Demons"

Written by Manny Coto
Directed by David Livingston

In which the initial meeting between Earth and several alien governments is met with resistance by a group that also happens to be holding the unexpected hybrid child of Trip and T’Pol…


Captain’s Log

With only one more week until the series finale (comprised of the second half of this story and the final episode itself), the writers turn back to Earth and its reaction to the events that have been shaped by the voyages of Enterprise. In a sense, it’s using the last couple of hours, now that the major events have been covered to relative satisfaction, to make some final statements about the state of the Trek universe on the eve of the Romulan Wars and Federation. It’s not a very positive statement, but it’s a realistic one, from a certain point of view.

Granted, the main plot is cousin to the worst excesses of James Bond villainy (or, for some, akin to Dr. Evil’s schemes in the “Austin Powers” trilogy). One has to wonder at the logic of tossing a device on Mars capable of wiping out cities on Earth if it falls into the wrong hands, which takes place with remarkable ease. Some things can be justified in the name of moving the plot along, especially when the point is the psychology behind the action, but there’s a certain point at which suspension of disbelief is seriously challenged.

(Speaking of which...if one considers, for a moment, the reason why the recent Trek films have been less than inspiring to the fans, it’s probably not something so simple as “franchise fatigue”. The first six films were stories that centered more on situations than preventing a villain from unleashing some universe-altering weapon. All four “Next Generation” films were about the Big Bad and his/her Ultimate Weapon, and they all ended with the crew having to prevent the Evil Plan. Only “First Contact” managed to rise above that hurdle to any meaningful extent. One could easily make the case that the Trek film franchise became, in essence, bad futuristic James Bond movies.)

Criticism of Paxton’s Evil Plan, however, overshadows what is an interesting and logical progression of the proto-Federation era: the backlash within human society against aliens and their influence on Earth culture. It’s the kind of ground that Trek has rarely trodden, since the action is usually confined to strange new worlds and alien civilizations. But considering the fact that this season has been about laying the foundation for Federation and the status quo of the original series, it only makes sense that Earth and its internal conflicts should be represented as well as those on Vulcan and Andoria.

For some very odd reason, there’s been a consistent trend towards staying very far away from Earth on Trek. It started with Roddenberry, who supposed didn’t want to portray Earth because it would be too hard to present a realistic vision of the planet’s future society. That doesn’t make much sense, however, since it’s apparently easy enough to delve into alien societies and future Earth society via starship crew interactions. It’s probably closer to the truth to say that Roddenberry didn’t want the story to be about Earth directly to avoid the budget problems that would cause and so he could use alien situations to comment on real Earth issues. (Setting stories on Earth itself would make metaphor rather pointless.)

However, this series is supposed to be about the birth of the Federation, and Earth’s collective psychology is as important to that goal as the collective concerns of the Vulcan people. Vulcan had to overcome a desire to hold back species that they considered “dangerous”, which led to the underlying resentment of many Humans towards their patrons. Earth’s xenophobia was established, however generally, at the very onset. Archer himself was, early on, caught between his negative feelings about all Vulcans and a desire to see the universe at large.

“Enterprise” has been replete with episodes that would have generated terrifying press on Earth. Just Mayweather’s stories of alien encounters among cargo haulers between Earth colonies and the overall Vulcan hand-holding would have been enough to create a distrust of aliens among the public. The original series made it clear that Humans weren’t completely over their prejudicial ways; they were simply less inclined to turn that ugliness towards other Humans. Even while preaching that racial bigotry was no longer a factor of Human society, Kirk’s crew openly spoke of hostile alien societies in stereotypical fashion.

It’s within this context that the scenario of this story becomes realistic. Consider that before the events of 9/11, Arabs (or anyone from the Middle East) were vaguely disturbing but not entirely threatening; they didn’t believe in the freedoms championed by the “enlightened West”, and they could sometimes be a problem, but they didn’t matter to most Americans. Since 9/11, however, there are plenty of Americans who would happily expel any Arab (or anyone appearing Middle Eastern) out of the country, and some would send them over the border in a body bag. It’s the misdirection of a very real and somewhat justified anger and fear; take that to a planetary scale, and that’s the effect of the Xindi attack at the end of the second season.

Vulcans came to Earth in the wake of generations of war and internal strife. The Eugenics Wars were a struggle against the “alien within”, genetically engineered threats that would have fired the imaginations for centuries, reinforcing the fear of anything with abilities beyond the norm of Humanity. Then came World War III and the genetic deformities of a population ravaged by radiation, millions rendered factories of human mutation, unchecked and unpredictable genetic variation. It wasn’t long after that Vulcans and other aliens came along, and suddenly, Humanity didn’t need to look within for the threatening “other”. It wasn’t the human genome and its alteration that would threaten the future of the species; it was the introduction of something even more unpredictable.

Paxton’s ties to Colonel Green are far from tenuous. It’s not hard to realize how Paxton’s Terra Prime is a direct descendant of Green’s movement. For one thing, it’s strongly hinted in the episode that Paxton’s ancestor(s) were survivors of World War III, and would have been among those culled from the human gene pool had Green’s movement been fully realized. It wouldn’t be at all surprising to learn that Paxton suffers from a painful genetic disease passed down from that time; if Paxton’s father and grandfather had instilled the lesson that their descendents never should have been born, it would explain the fervor with which Paxton drives Terra Prime and his irrational fear of anything outside of his view of “normal” and “Human”.

This fits the many lines of dialogue that suggest that Paxton has been spending decades developing the technology and support system necessary to implement his goals. The Xindi attack would have swelled the ranks of Terra Prime, but it’s clearly not a new movement. The early stirring of an alliance between Earth and several alien governments would only add to the support for a more isolationist Earth and would provide an easy excuse for Paxton’s terrorist activity. It all fits a sensible progression.

Equally, it makes a certain amount of sense for Paxton to create a Human/Vulcan hybrid. It’s easy for people to dismiss the theoretically threatening so long as it doesn’t impact their lives; this is why most racist movements typically recruit the poor and less educated in economically challenged, where the young are more likely to feel as though “foreigners” and “those people” are competing for limited resources and threatening their very existence. It’s not until something is made real and tangible to the masses that they feel threatened to a similar extent; a Human/Vulcan child would be undeniable evidence that the Human gene pool can be forever “contaminated”.

The connection of this child to Trip and T’Pol is something of a plot convenience, though one can attach a certain logic to it. Paxton might have been thinking that using the crew of Enterprise, the ones effectively behind the whole success of the movement towards alliances with aliens in the first place, as the “parents” of a hybrid would send a message about how interaction with aliens leads to a psychological loss of judgment.

It also provides the writers with a logical reason for directly involving Trip and T’Pol on a mission that they have no business joining. Sending two very public figures into an undercover mission among people who would have every reason to know who they are (as celebrated crew members of a hated Starfleet flagship) makes little sense, but it’s unlikely that Archer could have argued them out of it, under the circumstances. (That doesn’t resolve the fact that some less visible crew members would have been a better choice or that a Trip/T’Pol baby is an annoying prospect, but there it is.)

There is also a logical reason for the array on Mars to exist. It makes sense that at some point in the future, Earth will want to construct a system to redirect large asteroids or comets that might threaten the planet. One would expect, however, that such a system would have plenty of safeguards against targeting Earth and its colonies. Paxton does take control of the system, but perhaps a line of dialogue or a scene depicting an override of security protocols would have smoothed over the thought that Earth was leaving a superweapon sitting around for anyone to appropriate. (Never mind that this criticism also ignores the fact that Paxton had been planning for this operation for decades, and thus could have logically determined the most expedient means to override the existing security protocols.)

If one can forgive the Dastardly Plan and the annoying need to tie the hybrid to Trip and T’Pol, there are two other aspects of the episode that keep it from succeeding. One of them is the oddly flat performance by Peter Weller. There are plenty of reasons to explain why he seems so bland and non-emotive (one of them being his apparent health issues), but it doesn’t change the fact that the line delivery doesn’t really click until the second or third viewing. It’s as if Paxton envisions himself to be this charismatic and rational leader, and so he tries to sound like it, failing miserably in the process.

Far more annoying, however, is the Mayweather subplot. It’s easy to criticize the writers for tossing Mayweather into the background, making him a “catch all” character with little or no personality, but this episode provides a stinging reminder of why this is not a bad thing. Tony Montgomery is terrible when carrying a storyline on his shoulders (see “Favorite Son” or “Horizon” for even better examples), and that doesn’t help this episode one bit. His chemistry with Johanna Watts is passable, and her devious beauty helps things along, but it’s painful to watch Montgomery try to emote. Unlike Hoshi, this is not a character that needed to be given more screen time; it’s a character that could and should have been an early casualty, because even the writers didn’t have confidence in him.

This episode also struggles with the fact that it mirrors one of the early plot elements of “Babylon 5”. Indeed, the whole “Road to Federation” concept is not at all unlike the entire arc of “Babylon 5” and the creation of the Federation-esque Interstellar Alliance. “Babylon 5”, in its first year, was set after a war that left Earth as an important member of an alliance with alien governments while dealing with several strong anti-alien movements among the human population. Those elements eventually grew powerful enough to take control of the government of Earth itself, and in a very realistic depiction of human psychology, even the creation of the ISA itself didn’t eliminate all the distrust. It was just one more step on the road to eventual enlightenment as a species.

Since the similar plot elements on “Babylon 5” were an integral part of the story from the beginning, it never felt like an imposition. But in the Trek mythos, especially by the era of “Next Generation”, Humanity is supposed to have gotten over their prejudices. That’s not always the case, but more often than not, Humanity is already supposed to be enlightened. As a result, no matter how logical it might be, Terra Prime doesn’t mesh as well within the continuity as it could have.

Perhaps the greatest irony of “Enterprise” is that so many fans wanted to see the birth of the Federation, and yet now that the seeds have been planted and the direction that the story would have taken is logically presented, it’s easy to see why the original conception didn’t address it head-on. The last thing Berman and Braga wanted was another series to be compared to “Babylon 5”. Replace the Shadows and their past history with the Romulans, and the roadmap for Federation is right there within the “Babylon 5” plot arc. Anything less complex in terms of political upheavals and character arcs would be cast in a negative light. Already there have been several parallels between this season of “Enterprise” and “Babylon 5”, and in nearly every case, the “Enterprise” version has been seen as lacking or simply derivative.

It’s not so much that one would expect the writers to copy “Babylon 5”; it’s just that the end points of the two stories are so similar that it would be surprising if points of comparison didn’t exist along the way. Some fans would no doubt see these points of comparison and allege plagiarism, as with “DS9”. At least “DS9” ran concurrent with “Babylon 5”, so the spirit of competition drove both productions towards excellence, telling similar stories in their particular manner. “Enterprise”, even now, is competing with a legend, and it would have increasingly done so as it shifted more and more into “empire building” mode.

Between the unfortunate comparisons that any fan of both Trek and “Babylon 5” is likely to make, intentionally or not, Weller’s performance, the unfortunate emphasis on Mayweather, and the whole depiction of Paxton’s Evil Plan, there’s too many things taking this interesting concept and keeping it from succeeding fully. It’s possible that the second half of the story will smooth over the bumps, but given the fact that the series finale is sure to overshadow whatever “Terra Prime” offers, it’s unlikely.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode has many interesting philosophical and social elements spread across the script, but the execution leaves much to be desired. The main plan of the terrorists is a bit too convenient, and the guest performance by Peter Weller is oddly wooden and uninspiring. Add to that the poor acting by Montgomery and the episode ends up on shaky ground.

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

Final Rating: 6/10

Season Average (as of 4.20): 7.6

Alias 4.18: "Mirage"

Written by Steven Kane
Directed by Jack Bender

In which Jack’s medical condition is discovered when he begins hallucinating, forcing Sydney to desperate means to find help, while Yelena continues to use Nadia to her own devices…


Status Report

While the series is clearly meant to be the trevails of Sydney Bristow, the writers have developed a few other characters equally complex and just as enjoyable. For some, the best thing about the series is Sydney’s father Jack, a man of complicated morality (to say the least) and played with absolute perfection by Victor Garber. Over the course of the past four seasons, it’s been very clear that Jack has done everything possible to protect his daughter, often failing miserably, and his many years of detachment from Sydney have left her with a lot of questions.

What makes Jack such a complicated character is his complete lack of self-awareness when it comes to his decisions regarding Sydney. He always considers what might be best for her, what will protect her from pain, yet he’s constantly misjudging her reactions to his actions. Jack has been dealing with the emotional fallout of Irina’s betrayal for so long that he’s taught himself that he can’t imagine someone wanting to understand all the horrible things that are happening in their world. His entire job, after all, has been about keeping the people of America relatively content, unaware of the massive terrorist plots threatening the world every other day.

This is an episode devoted to Jack and his complex psychology. Since it would be inappropriate for the writers to dump the entirety of Jack’s conflicted emotions into one hour, this episode is essentially about revealing depths that Sydney was previously unable to see. Very little comes as a shock or surprise to the audience, but for the other characters, it’s stunning to see Jack emote something other than annoyance, anger, or self-righteousness.

What this episode reveals is that on some level, Jack wants to be able to open up to people, to be “normal”. It’s not clear how long he’s been hallucinating Dr. Liddell, but it goes back at least to the previous episode, and in that context, Jack seemed to enjoy the idea that he could tell Dr. Liddell all the secrets he had been keeping over the years. Even discussing his critical condition, Jack felt a freedom that he never seems to enjoy in the real world.

The troubling thing is that Jack is essentially living in an extreme schizophrenic state, where his hallucinations are merging with information collected from the “real” world around him. Jack’s lucky that he didn’t inject himself with antifreeze or epoxy, all the while thinking he was curing himself. For that matter, the treatment that he was trying to give himself sounds an awful lot like the treatment for heavy metal poisoning; how it could cure genetic mutations is a bit hard to contemplate. But his symptoms are actually very similar to the dementia effects of that condition, where memories of past events are so much clearer than recent history, and that past information becomes so prominent that the person believes it to be a part of the present. (This is a gross simplification, but it could indicate where the writers got some of their ideas.)

A lot of time is spent, early in the episode, hunting down Jack and trying to understand where his damaged mental state is leading him. It’s very effective, because half the episode rushes by before the audience gets to take a breath. For some, it just might be the first time they realize how crucial Jack is to Sydney’s world and the stability of the series. Quite frankly, if Jack or Sloane were to disappear from Sydney’s life, it would destroy the key drama that has driven events since the very first episode. (And the absence of Sloane as a true main villain in the third season was markedly felt.)

This also provides a strong explanation for Sophia/Yelena’s ability to overcome APO’s defenses in such short order. As the previous episode indicated, Sophia is such a powerful presence in Nadia’s life that her friends and relatives are completely unable to consider her loyalties in an objective sense. When Sloane did ask questions, Sydney ripped him up one side and down the other for apparently betraying Nadia’s trust. Yelena has managed to place herself in a position to overcome any opposition, simply by slipping past their usually formidable defenses as if they weren’t even there.

This has always been the tried and true method of winning a test of willpower, and when it comes to who gets to control the fates of Sydney and Nadia (and thus, one imagines, the world), willpower is exactly the deciding factor. It takes a force of personality to work on a singular goal for more than 30 years, and when the final defense is scrambled with incomplete information at the last moment (a year is not that long in comparison), the chances are high that the defense will fail. In this case, the good guys are distracted by Jack’s condition, which was the result of a choice he made to save Sydney during a mission related to Yelena’s master plan. Yelena’s resources seem far more vast than anything APO can toss her way, regardless of how effective they’ve seemed from mission to mission.

Sonia Braga follows in the capable tradition of the other two Derekvo sisters, Lena Olin and Isabella Rossellini, demonstrating very well that substantial roles for older women can be creatively developed and widely appreciated. It doesn’t matter at all that these women are of drastically different nationalities, to the point of very different accents. Just the mystique that has surrounded the Derekvo name is enough to smooth over those little bumps. Sonia portrays Yelena as a woman who has been doing the spy thing for quite some time, but typically through indirect confrontation; she’s far more capable in the field than when dealing with the possibility of discovery by Nadia and Weiss.

That relationship, oddly enough, has a certain inevitability to it that has allowed it to happen off-screen in a relatively satisfying way. The two are very comfortable with each other, and it makes it easy to accept the fact that they forged a close relationship without it dominating everyone else’s life. If the plot does indeed turn to a deadly competition between sisters, Weiss must now be counted on Nadia’s side of the aisle. (And given the fact that the Greg Grunberg might be leaving for “The Catch”, should it be picked up, Weiss fans have cause to be worried.)

The heart of the episode, however, is Jack’s condition. Once he is found and the depth of his delusions understood, it’s great to see the team pull together to help Sydney save her father’s life (or at least give him a chance of survival). As usual, Sloane displays hidden depths of humanity in his scenes with Sydney, revealing his long history with the Bristows with a tinge of wistful regret for simpler days. The thing about Sloane is that he’s genuinely personable and likeable; he just happens to be obsessed to the point of extreme self-interest and immorality. He’s not all that different from Jack, and that never fails to confound Sydney and her desire to hate Sloane without reservation.

Some have quibbled already about how quickly APO was able to pull together a detailed facsimile of the old Bristow home, but that’s not a valid criticism. For one thing, it’s exactly what the crew of the series manages to do every single week! With the right people and the right resources, it’s definitely possible. Besides, not every detail was likely to be the same; only enough to allow Jack to slip into the proper delusional context.

That said, it had to be intense for Sydney to see her old world from her present perspective, thinking back on days when she was the happy daughter of an apparently happy and normal family. For most of her life, she remembered her mother as a typical woman who happened to die in a traffic accident. It’s not just resurrecting that image for her father’s sake that tears her apart; it’s the fact that she’s forced to remember how much innocence has been ripped out of her life. She’s essentially experiencing exactly what Jack has always wanted to shield from her.

It’s never been a secret that Jack told Irina information about his missions; he admitted as much earlier in the series. But what’s shocking to everyone is the matter-of-fact way that Jack spills information, happily telling Irina/Laura enough about his day-to-day activities that her inevitable follow-up questions were expected. Sloane was probably shocked to think that Jack, a man now so scarred that he conceals everything, ever felt so content that he could discuss classified information with his wife.

But at the same time, it reveals the depth of Jack’s pain. This is the kind of life that he thought he was living, sharing his every thought and feeling with a woman that made his sacrifices that much easier to endure. Laura was the cornerstone of his psychological coping mechanism. His still-intense emotions over that betrayal, more than 20 years later, make sense in light of how much he lost from his life. Jack always claimed that Irina had a superior skill for deception; what he was really saying to Sydney, in the second season, was that he knew all too well how easy it was to let Irina gain confidence. This episode ties in very nicely with Jack’s portrayal in the second season.

But it’s his deep regret over the time lost with Sydney that cuts her to the bone. It’s not just that she never understood how much he wanted to spend time with her; it’s how that turned into a need to put her at arm’s length once Laura was gone. Sydney was a constant reminder of what Jack had taken away from him, and he came to the conclusion that the best way to protect Sydney was from a distance. It never occurred to him that it left her wishing desperately for a father figure; for a time, that’s the role that Sloane happily owned.

Jack’s confession leaves Sydney emotionally spent, but it also provides everyone with the information necessary to locate the real Dr. Liddell. In a way, this feels like a waiting game, since there are a number of signs that the Nightingale device is still going to be necessary to save Jack’s life. An interesting scenario presents itself, in terms of what could set Sydney and Nadia in conflict. What if Nadia were to discover that Jack killed Irina, and decided to prevent Sydney from saving Jack in response? It would be the perfect way to pull many of the plot and character threads together in a logical manner. Nadia’s vow regarding Irina would finally be brought to fruition, and there would even be a neat parallel to Nadia’s wish for Sydney to forgive Sloane.

While this episode doesn’t quite advance the main plot as much as the past few episodes have, it brings the story several steps closer to the major events of the finale. Unlike “Nocturne”, which walked through similar delusional territory, Jack’s fantasy world and health status have direct impact on the characters and their relationships. And of course, any episode that focuses on Jack Bristow automatically has an advantage over the competition.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode continued to advance the story incrementally while delving into the psychology of Jack Bristow. The tragedy of Jack and Sydney’s relationship as father and daughter is once again mined for some compelling drama, and in the process of aiding Sydney, Sloane displays more of his humanity. The second half of the season is, thus far, much stronger than the first.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Season Average (as of 4.18): 7.6

Kneel Before Zod!

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother/Sister Immaculate Claymore of Discussion. What's yours?

Lost 1.21: "The Greater Good"

Written by Leonard Dick
Directed by David Grossman

In which Shannon asks Sayid to find out the truth from Locke and exact due vengeance, prompting Sayid to remember the events that brought him to the island…


Status Report

After a hiatus that felt like forever, the series finally returns for the last batch of episodes. This episode arrives just in time to face a fandom that seems driven by equal parts anticipation and skepticism. Despite several assurances to the contrary (and evidence in this episode that it is absolutely the case), fans seem to question whether or not the writers and producers have a clue where they are going. Part of this is a matter of expectation; part of it is unrealistic and inconsistent desire.

When the writers and producers claim that they have answers to all of the questions and a basic plan for how things should pan out, a lot of people interpret that as meaning that every detail is set in stone and that the content of every episode is absolutely planned out. This is a serious misconception. Even a series like “Babylon 5”, which had a very tightly controlled plan for the progression of several plot and character arcs over a theoretical five-season timeline, didn’t meet that expectation of absolutes.

The usual comparisons are made to “Twin Peaks” and “X-Files”, as if the two series were victims of the same phenomenon. In fact, that’s not true. Both serve as cautionary tales, but it’s not the writers and producers who were solely responsible for learning the lessons. The audience also had a part in it, since they were essentially asking a committee to read the collective wishes of millions years in advance.

In the case of “Twin Peaks”, the series was a victim of network pressures and an audience that made the series popular for reasons that didn’t match what the writers and producers were hoping for. “Twin Peaks” was never supposed to be solely focused on the murder of Laura Palmer, other than as a vehicle for telling stories about quirky people in a bizarre town. It was a soap opera bathed in darkness and affectation. The investigation into Laura’s death was supposed to be the door into character study, not the driving force behind the entire series that it became.

Instead, the mass audience became so focused on the murder of Laura Palmer that they never invested in the concept of the series as envisioned by the creators. Because the story didn’t immediately answer questions, and then did so in a way that many simply didn’t understand or accept, the audience abandoned the series in droves once the murder was solved. If one takes a look back at the second season (where many felt the series went wrong), there’s a definitive plot arc, and most of the characters undergo major changes in their lives. The sin of “Twin Peaks” is that the writers weren’t trying to put together a consistent murder mystery; they were trying to introduce strange characters in a strange universe, and the audience didn’t want that.

In terms of “Lost”, the difference between audience expectation and creative concept is similar. Many in the audience are so focused on the mysteries that the main point of the series, the characters themselves, are often overlooked. The series is not about the “monster”, the hatch, the “numbers”, or the Black Rock. It’s about how the character dynamics and transformations are triggered by the discovery of these unusual objects and situations. (Note how more people focused on the meaning of the “numbers” than the fact that the episode dealing with them said a lot about Hurley and his psychology; the intent, from a writers’ perspective, was clearly more balanced.)

“X-Files” had a far more complex history than “Twin Peaks”, if only because of how long it ran in comparison. It’s easy to say, looking back, that the creators had no plan for the series’ mythology and thus messed with the fans’ heads for nine seasons, always aware that the answers they promised didn’t exist. In a sense, that’s very true, but a lot of people are ignoring some fairly public information that sheds light on why it was true.

Chris Carter didn’t go into “X-Files” with a planned story arc. He had a basic set of character motivations, no desire to engage in character growth, and every intention to make an anthology series with only the two main characters as a common thread. The “conspiracy” was supposed to be a plot device, a convenient menace to “the truth”. Anyone watching the first season can see that there was no series bible and no guideline.

All of that changed when Gillian Anderson became pregnant and Carter conceded that the easiest way to explain it would be to create a story arc around it. This led to a definition of the “conspiracy” that demanded further exploration. But the fact is, as the second season demonstrates, Carter still wanted to keep his options open and avoid one set of facts or explanations. With the popularity of the series came more demand for a grand design, and reluctantly, Carter relented. Yet the third season alone demonstrates a limited scope for the mythology, even as it became more defined.

The studio executives saw the possibility of a film franchise by the end of the third season. It was at that point that Carter buckled down and came up with the explanation for Samantha’s abduction and the existence of the “conspiracy”. The fourth and fifth seasons were conceived as the time for parceling out the pieces of the puzzle that would come together in the first feature film. At several points in the fourth and early fifth season, those elements are clearly in place. If the audience came to the collective conclusion that there was a grand design, it’s because now there was one, where there hadn’t been in the beginning. When details didn’t mesh, fans began to cry foul; they didn’t take into account that order had been imposed on intentional chaos.

Carter, however, was operating under the impression that the series would be ending by the fifth season, based on the natural evolution of a series and its typical downfall. That didn’t happen, and the demand was there for more seasons. Unfortunately, there was nothing in the improvised plan beyond the film, so Carter was caught in an impossible situation: he needed to keep the story moving, but he had no idea where to go next, having already worked everything out to seeming satisfaction.

So late in the fifth season, and then for every season thereafter, Carter introduced more and more to the mythology, hoping that the writing staff would be able to take those seeds and expand the “conspiracy” beyond its artificially determined lifespan. The audience immediately got the impression that things weren’t as solid as they had assumed. Indeed, it wasn’t…but that’s because the series was never supposed to have a definitive mythology in the first place. By trying to create something to satisfy the desires of the audience for something more than he was originally willing to offer, Carter ultimately left the fans with the feeling that they had been betrayed.

“Lost”, on the other hand, was put together with a basic roadmap, closer to the methods used by Joss Whedon in putting together the seasons for “Buffy” and “Angel”. Whedon would intentionally develop a theme and basic plot progression for each season, with the intention of bringing those plot elements to a close by that season, but he would also introduce plot and character elements that could be explored in later seasons. Looking back on the first seasons of “Buffy” and “Angel”, they are typically short on answers, since the plot and character elements are meant to be given more emphasis in later seasons (assuming renewal).

The point of this long discussion on the topic is this: it’s not very fair to the writers and producers to claim a lack of forethought if there are a number of open mysteries at the end of one season. This first season is an introduction at best, and one shouldn’t expect a roadmap this complex to be resolved in one season. There’s a ton of main characters to be introduced and developed, and at least as many open questions regarding the plot elements.

Compare this first season of “Lost” to the first season of “Babylon 5”. That series had an ultra-detailed plan, and yet at the end of the first season, the lead character was dropped, the scope dramatically increased, and the main thrust of the story was barely on the table. Yet two seasons later, it was incredibly obvious that the series had been following a roadmap, even if major revisions to the roadmap were made along the way. By the end of the fourth season, a massive number of plot and character arcs had been resolved, largely to satisfaction. But none of that was completely apparent in the first season; look at an episode like “Babylon Squared”, for instance, which took place late in the season and dropped tons of open plot elements into the audience’s lap.

“Lost” is not “X-Files”; the writers have always claimed that they have a pretty good idea where they are going, even if revisions to the original outline have taken place. They expected that; very few writers adhere, over the space of years, to the entire content of an outline. Chris Carter openly admitted that he never had that level of foresight. If the “Twin Peaks” analogy is correct, it’s in the sense that the audience is trying to make this series something that it’s not intended to be.

The problem is, the shows with a structure closest to “Lost” have been cult favorites more than popular successes. Despite the critical acclaim of “Buffy”, “Angel”, or “Babylon 5”, they are still largely dismissed by the widespread populace based on what people think those shows must have been like. “Lost” is therefore privy to criticism by those with less patience than the fans of similar shows have learned to employ.

Take, for instance, how Sayid’s character development advances in this episode. One could say that this episode doesn’t really advance the plot or move the series forward at all, since none of the major mysteries are resolved. The one open question related to plot (who prevented Sayid from finding the source of the French signal) only confirms what the audience already knew about the character responsible. But looking back at Sayid’s choices, this episode places them in context and gives them deeper meaning.

This episode answers nearly every question related to Sayid: why he wanted to get off the island so badly, what happened to Nadia, what he was doing to find Nadia, why he was on the plane, and what kind of redemption the island offers him. Sayid’s basic integrity is at the heart of this episode, and he is revealed as a good man with a set of realistic flaws. It was clear that his relationship with Shannon was reflective of his eventual acceptance that escaping the island was not a viable option, but now it’s a lot more easily understood.

Sayid repeats his past history in this episode, and it destroys yet another chance at happiness. Looking back on his days before boarding Oceanic 815, Sayid was dedicated to finding Nadia, wherever they might take him. In the process, he was offered everything he wanted, if only he betrayed the confidence of a friend. As a result, his guilt and rage compels him to postpone his reunion with Nadia by a day, placing him on the fateful flight.

To convince his friend to be a martyr and kill for all the wrong reasons, Sayid claims that it is the only way to show how much they cared for their lost loved ones. In truth, Sayid believes the total opposite: that only through mercy and eventual forgiveness can the dead be honored. To cause more death and pain in the name of a loved one is to stain their memory forever, at least when the target of vengeance did not intend harm.

But what is the price that a person should be willing to pay? For Sayid, he has lost potential love and happiness in the name of preventing wrongful vengeance. He didn’t want to believe that a plane crash could render the sacrifice of his friend, the stain of betrayal, utterly moot. He was willing to torture Sawyer, but how much of that was self-loathing over that recent betrayal? The fact that he does not torture Locke, despite not trusting him and wanting answers, speaks to his growth. He understands that Locke might have a deeper understanding of what people need to do to survive, physically and spiritually, but he’s intelligent enough to suspect that Locke may be claiming to honor a “greater good” that might not exist.

Sayid could not let Shannon kill Locke, and thus he loses Shannon’s trust and love in the process. But he has also made the choice not to let his love for a woman dictate his morality. If he had been solely concerned with his relationship to Shannon, as he was with his potential relationship to Nadia, he would have killed Locke for her (or at least let her kill Locke herself). Sayid acts instead out of his understanding of “the greater good” for the other survivors. In that respect, ironically enough, he’s doing exactly what Locke always claims to be doing.

Jack spends most of this episode recovering from his attempt to save Boone, physically and emotionally, and as a result, it demonstrates to the rest of the survivors what can happen if he gives in to his personal flaws. By extending himself too far, he left himself vulnerable when the survivors needed a strong leader. More than that, but the safety of the survivors is now suspect, because Jack allowed Shannon to get her hands on the weapons cache. One has to wonder if anyone in the camp is questioning Jack’s role as de facto sheriff.

Kate needs to explain how it is that Shannon got her hands on that key when she was supposedly keeping watch over Jack the entire time he was sleeping. (It’s also worth asking how she knew what dosage of sleeping pills to give Jack, since he could have reacted very badly to a normal dose given his lack of blood and dehydrated state.) It’s unlikely that she gave Shannon the key herself, based on her reaction, but was she really by his side the entire time? Beyond that, she definitely cares for Jack, because while everyone else was advising rest, she was the only one willing to force him into it.

It would have been expected for Sawyer to involve himself in any situation where Jack is at his weakest and there’s an opportunity at hand, but the writers wisely divert him into different territory. The implication is that his focus is on staying close to the raft, so he can be ready to go whenever it sets sail. The concerns of those remaining behind are no longer his business. One would expect him to be far more present when the decisions are made about the raft’s occupants in the next episode. (Both Kate and Sawyer ought to see their character development come to a head as that plot element comes to fruition, since the main thrust of their character evolution has been a resistance to redemption.)

For now, though, Sawyer gets to provide some much needed comic relief, as the one person with the voice that helps Charlie keep Claire’s baby happy. As any parent knows, most babies seem to latch on to one person’s voice as a point of fascination, and a lot of the time, it’s not one of the parents, oddly enough. Charlie finds a solution to the problem of Claire’s health and the baby’s agitation with his usual force of will. It’s almost as if he was intent on showing Claire how much she means to him by making damn sure that baby was happy! But with the prominent mentions of the heroin from that plane, the writers seem to be hinting that he could be tempted back into addiction.

Shannon’s reaction to Locke is understandable, though it’s hard to tell how she’s going to progress from here. Certainly her relationship with Sayid is all but over, but that relationship was key to her own redemption. Without Boone, however, she can hardly regress, so she could be quite the wild card. Then again, she was defined by her past relationships with men; perhaps the key to her redemption is finding a way to survive on her own, without attaching herself to a man in the process.

Like Sawyer’s story, everyone related to the raft (Michael, Walt, and Jin) gets minimal screen time. Sun’s absence is telling, however, because it suggests that she doesn’t trust Jack quite as much as she used to. Locke, on the other hand, continues to be the character around which everyone else orbits. Locke knows Sayid is a master interrogator, and yet he still has the balls to lie and think he’s getting away with it. As convinced as he was that his visions of “the greater good” were true, Locke’s moment of self-doubt leading to Boone’s death seems short-lived. Now that his secrets are slowly being revealed, it would be unfortunate if his experience with the “monster” remained unexplained.

It wouldn’t be “Lost” without ongoing reconsideration of information, and with all the repeats of Boone’s scene with the radio, something has come to light. When Boone mentions that he’s one of the survivors of Oceanic 815, it initially sounds as if the reply states, “there were no survivors”. But it’s also possible to interpret the reply as, “we’re the survivors”. Taken by itself, that’s hard to reconcile. However, there’s also Rose, who held the firm belief that her husband was alive, since the tail section of the plane was never found. What if Boone picked up a transmission from another group of survivors from Oceanic 815?

If that’s possible, then one can make an interesting prediction regarding the cliffhanger for this first season. Apparently the raft is going to set sail, but chances are, something will go wrong. Could the occupants of the raft end up on another (part of the) island, where the other survivors have been struggling to survive for just as long? That would be a stunning revelation, especially if those survivors were also linked to Black Rock and/or Ethan. It would be a major plot twist, especially since the symbolism of the white/black stones (two camps of survivors with two very different agendas) could finally be addressed.

Whatever the case, this episode was a powerful and logical exploration of Sayid’s psychology, and even if only a handful of minor mysteries were resolved, that’s entirely the point of the episode. It wasn’t meant to be anything more. There’s every reason to believe that the writers have every intention of resolving the dangling plot threads; the real question is whether or not the audience will remain large enough to keep the series on the air long enough. One thing is very clear: had the writers been forced to answer all the questions by the end of the season, none of the depth of character development like found in this episode would have been possible.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode did much to flesh out Sayid’s history and psychology. The writers drew a neatly complicated parallel between Sayid’s activities before the crash and the current situation, leading him closer to a sense of personal redemption. Events are certainly converging as secrets are laid bare, but it’s also clear that some mysteries are best left to deepen before they are resolved.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Season Average (as of 1.21): 8.0

24 4.20: "Day 4: 2AM - 3AM"

Written by Peter Lenkov
Directed by Bryan Spicer

In which evidence leads CTU to a Chinese national holed up at the local consulate, and hard choices that must be made lead to serious consequences, political and personal…


Status Report

During the extended dry patch this season, one key element was missing from each episode, something that had been in place for each episode of the much better “meltdown” arc: a central theme. If it wasn’t exploring the morally relative aspects of counter-terrorism, then it was parallel character exploration. The recent return to a more layered form of storytelling has been far from smooth, and the writers have relied on some plot devices to get the audience back on board. This episode, however, presents the usual plot contrivances with a centralized theme: hard choices and their unintended consequences.

Few of the characters in this episode manage to escape without regrets for choices made. Self-doubt seems to be the order of the day. It starts off right where the theme began in the previous episode: President Logan’s decision to bring in David Palmer rather than make the hard choices himself. This becomes the trigger for a number of unintended consequences. But before any of that happens, the audience gets to have the uncomfortable realization that the President could, at any given time, cede authority and power to a civilian without the public ever knowing about it.

That used to happen a lot more in the past, before the 25th Amendment was added to the Constitution. The wives of sick Presidents would toss out executive orders and run the country without anyone having a clue that it was happening right under their noses. But this is a nation where many, right at this moment, believe that corporate and religious interests are essentially running the show, and so it resonates to have an unsure, conflicted President rubber-stamping the decisions of a “consultant”. No matter how well-regarded Palmer might be, he’s still a President who decided not to run again under unusual circumstances with a personal history that has been publicly questioned on more than one occasion.

Chloe’s information, gathered at the end of the previous episode, leads CTU to Lee Jong, a Chinese national who has been providing Marwan with the necessary expertise to reconfigure a stolen nuclear warhead. Jong, apparently well aware of the need for protection, has already taken up with the local Chinese consulate, which is legally considered Chinese soil. Palmer is left with the task of getting the consul to hand over Jong. The Chinese, however, are less than inclined to sell out one of their own, regardless of the situation.

Chloe reacts to her involvement in the firefight in the previous episode with an odd sense of detachment. Clearly she’s freaked out about the whole thing; what’s funny is how the rest of CTU, including Jack, simply accepts her lack of civility with barely a shrug. It’s easy to forgive someone’s foibles when they are as talented and vital to the mission as Chloe. It also helps that Chloe has more personality than anyone else in the secondary CTU employee pool!

Meanwhile, Jack gets a chance to visit Paul. Jack has had his life saved plenty of times before, but never by a civilian who has every reason to hate his guts and want him dead. Jack was already feeling a bit guilty about torturing Paul right in front of Audrey, only to take Paul into harm’s way hours later, so it’s not surprise that Jack is finding it hard to work out his emotions regarding Paul and his chances of recovery. Audrey hasn’t come right out and explained her feelings to Jack, but the writing has been on the wall for a while. Jack has to know that his chances with Audrey are fading fast.

There’s such a sense of discomfort in that scene that it’s easy to tell that something more is going to happen. At that point, though, the writers make it look like Jack is coming to the realization that he’s losing Audrey to Paul, and that he’s finding it impossible to fight Paul over it now. This is especially important, because as the DOD representative, Audrey has quite a bit of power over Jack, and her emotional state regarding Jack could easily become a major source of trouble. After all, Daddy doesn’t like it when personal issues intrude on work.

The relationship between Tony and Michelle, at the same time, seems to be moving in the other direction. Michelle is definitely warming up to the idea of being around Tony again, and Tony has clearly never gotten over Michelle’s decision to leave him. A lot of the viewers have been cheering this character development on, and so it’s good to see them making progress. It’s also the perfect chance for the writers to drop the other shoe, and thankfully, it makes a certain amount of sense. It certainly felt like Tony’s last look at Jen held meaning, and the writers actually manage to make that happen by having Michelle react badly when Jen calls looking for her roomie. Tony is forced to reveal his feelings, and taken in tandem with later developments, it’s heartbreaking to see how his fortunes spiral right back into the gutter.

CTU manages to recover enough information from the recording of Marwan to work out the timetable for the next terrorist attack: within the next two hours. That means that by the end of the next episode, CTU needs to stop the attack or deal with the fallout (literally). It also means that CTU needs to question Jong as soon as possible. With the Chinese neatly keeping Jong in custody at least that long, Palmer is left with the executive decision to either drop the lead or commit an act of international war.

It all comes down to “plausible deniability”, and as far as Palmer is concerned, Jack is good for that. Never mind the fact that the same logic in the third season didn’t work out very well, and that Jack’s most recent example of a “rogue” operation completely failed to protect those who needed to have deniability. Palmer, a civilian consultant, uses the power of the President (which he shouldn’t really have) to order members of the US intelligence community to abduct a foreign national and thus commit an international incident.

Jack is certainly capable, but it doesn’t help that a number of other CTU employees must also necessarily be involved. Jack compounds the problem by calling Tony (logical, given earlier events) to provide support. Jack asks Tony to ensure that there’s no record of their activity, and Tony doesn’t hesitate. And just like that, Tony is placed in exactly the same kind of position that led to the charges of treason. As soon as Tony takes the first step to work outside Buchanan’s purview, it’s clear that it’s going to undermine whatever progress he’s made to this point.

While Tony provides the support (on a huge screen in the middle of room, which none of the other employees seem to notice), Jack infiltrates the Chinese consulate and abducts Jong. In the process, of course, Jong is shot and badly injured and the Chinese consul is killed by his own guards. All of which, of course, makes a bad political situation worse by several orders of magnitude. Palmer is now tasked with handling the initial stages of a possible war; if Logan was overwhelmed before, he’s certainly looking for a deeper bunker now!

Meanwhile, a couple other developments take place. Chloe, still upset by the fact that she killed someone, opens up to a sympathetic Edgar. Those two win the award for Unlikeliest 23 Couple Ever, but somehow, it’s not as annoying as one would expect. (And I’m still shocked by the fact that Chloe actually looks damn good under those frumpy clothes!) It’s a rare moment of sunshine in a very dark and disturbing episode.

Speaking of disturbing, there’s the fact that Audrey is in the process of thinking of how to let Jack down gently when Paul begins to go into cardiac arrest. Apparently the CTU medical staff is just as bad as they were with Driscoll’s daughter, because they completely miss the signs of internal bleeding. Granted, it’s not the easiest thing to detect, but since it takes them seconds to diagnose the problem, they were obviously aware of the possibility and should have been monitoring him for it.

The stage is thus set for things to go very, very badly at the end of the episode. In the meantime, things are not looking much better for anyone else. Palmer could easily suggest that the terrorists were behind the abduction, but he’s too busy trading outright denials to shift blame. It’s clear that Palmer’s not fooling anybody, and he knows it. Logan, for some odd reason, is happy to continue supporting Palmer, regardless of the circumstances, even when it’s leading to World War III. In fact, there’s no indication that Logan even asks how Jong is taken into custody or the conditions under which he asks for safety.

Buchanan’s anger at Tony is suspect on a number of levels, but it probably won’t matter much in the long run. It’s interesting that Buchanan doesn’t seem to be concerned with the several other CTU personnel physically present at the abduction, or the fact that he had to protect Jack (who was less than a day earlier a target of a manhunt) against the President for acting “on his own”. He’s only taking it out on Tony. The fact is, however, that Tony was following orders from the same authority that Buchanan saw fit to contradict, and more than that, Tony is getting under Michelle’s skin again. Professional and personal issues are a bad combination.

Just as Paul goes into surgery, Jack arrives with Jong, who is dying of internal bleeding himself. Before Jack knows the situation, he wheels Jong into the surgical theatre and demands that the medical staff make Jong the priority. When the doctor refuses, Jack actually pulls a gun on him. This is a bit extreme, and it feels like the writers are trying just a little too hard to generate maximum angst. But Jack has a point: Jong can save millions of lives with the information he can provide.

Jack is definitely not pleased, especially when Audrey starts screaming at him to let the doctors save Paul instead. But it’s hard to defend Audrey’s point of view, and it’s even harder to imagine that Buchanan or Michelle would leave Jack to be the one making that call. As chaotic as the situation is, especially when Paul himself goes into arrest again, Audrey should have been removed from the room.

Had Buchanan or Michelle been there, it would have prevented the situation that the writers are clearly trying to force: Audrey’s ability to place the blame for Paul’s death on Jack. Not only does Jack have no chance of ever regaining Audrey’s respect, he’s also going to be dealing with her father, his boss, who can easily dispense with an employee rather than alienate a daughter. It doesn’t matter that Heller is likely to agree with Jack’s interpretation, given the fact that Jack is essentially working under executive order to get the information from Jong, no matter the cost.

That doesn’t change the fact that Jack personally tries to save Paul’s life by every means available (even if he stops the fake CPR rather quickly). He keeps going after Curtis stops. He’s clearly stricken by the fact that he was involved in a decision that cost Paul his life. But morally, what else could he have done? It was a choice between saving two lives, and one of those lives meant saving millions more. Is Audrey going to consider the cost that her demand would have exacted?

Some elements of the final act are rather contrived, but given the fact that this is about hard choices and their consequences, it fits the theme perfectly. Jack makes a choice that will likely destroy his personal life and throw his future into chaos yet again, but as always, that choice is directly related to his desire to protect his country. He gets to learn, all over again, the lesson that he tried to teach Chase in the third season: personal relationships only get in the way.

Tony didn’t hesitate when it came to helping Jack serve the President (at least, the President’s proxy), even though he had to know that it could come back to haunt him. He might have been able to overcome Michelle’s problems with Jen; he’s going to have a much harder time defending himself against Buchanan’s accusations, especially if he can’t cite an official order in that defense.

All of these choices provide the writers with a number of interesting options for the remainder of the season. Tony is once again in the position where he could consider a grand gesture of bravery rather attractive, thus in jeopardy. Jack will probably find his personal life in the gutter again, and his position at DOD gone; the question is whether or not he’ll be allowed back at CTU, given his history. The rest of the characters could go in any direction; so far, only Chloe is safe, based on the fact that she’s slated to be a regular in a potential fifth season. Even Palmer may not get out of this intact. The stakes are suddenly a lot more personal, and while getting there felt a bit contrived, by keeping to a theme, the writers made things seem far more logical in the end.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode continued the incremental improvement from the extended slump in the middle of the season. In fact, this episode actually manages to develop a theme: hard choices and their devastating consequences. The final act is a bit contrived, but as over-the-top as it is, it is the logical dramatic culmination of the episode’s events. It’s going to be hard for the characters to emerge unscathed when all is said and done.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Season Average (as of 4.20): 6.8

Enterprise 4.19: "In a Mirror, Darkly II"

Written by Manny Coto and Mike Sussman
Directed by Marvin Rush

In which the Archer of the Mirror Universe plots to use the USS Defiant to eliminate his rivals and become Emperor, unaware that the non-Humans have learned about the Federation…


Captain’s Log

Like the first half of the story in the previous episode, there’s very little in the way of connections to the “real” timeline, leaving most continuity issues aside. And like the previous episode, that gives the writers and cast the chance to cut loose without worrying about ruining the integrity of the series as a whole. Enjoyment of the episode hinges almost entirely upon the ability of the viewer to sit back and enjoy the over-the-top nostalgia that the story offers.

There’s nothing subtle about this story; everything is right there on the screen, soaked with naked ambition. It’s not surprising that many fans felt that this kind of obvious passion for the material, this sense of fun, has been missing from the series far too long. This two-part story manages to break a few of the rules that “Enterprise” has established over the past four years, and it makes all the difference.

In watching both parts of the story, it takes a little while to realize that many of the suffocating conventions of the typical “Enterprise” episode are absent. In most of the episodes, the color grading is so uniform that the production has a hard time escaping the almost drab tone that it invokes. In the typical episode, everything is awash in gray and “cold” color tones; this sometimes keeps the episode from gathering a unique energy. “Bound”, for instance, failed to generate the farcical tone that it so dearly wanted to attain largely because the episode was bathed in the ultra-serious color grading.

It’s a proven psychological effect that a lack of color will result in a lack of emotional response; it’s like setting the series in the middle of a storm cloud every week and wondering why people aren’t responding. It’s a credit to the writers that this effect has largely been offset since the middle of the third season by the creativity of the storytelling. In this episode, set mostly on the original series’-style USS Defiant, the explosion of color gives the self-aware posturing a bit more punch.

The writers could have rested on their laurels, leaving the cast to chew their way through the scenery with gusto. But Manny Coto adds another interesting layer to the episode, one that makes up for the fact that the fresh perspective of the “mirror universe” quickly begins to get old. And so this two-part episode becomes the rise and fall of Jonathan Archer. The first half shows him finding victory through sheer force of will; the second half shows him discovering defeat when his victory is marred by self-doubt.

Rather early in the episode, Archer and Hoshi review the historical database on the Defiant and discover that things are very different in the “real” universe. They openly mock the “peacemakers” of the Federation, bemoaning the loss of Human dominance, but they react very differently to the level of success enjoyed by their counterparts. In true “mirror universe” fashion, the “real” Archer has a career that is truly astonishing: Captain, Ambassador to Andoria, President of UFP, planets named after him. The “mirror” Archer, on the other hand, has all the ambition in the world but none of the adulation.

Archer finds that hard to accept, especially when Hoshi finds it equally laughable. It makes him want to control events, grab onto power that much more tightly. As he begins wondering if he should begin purging all non-Humans from the crew, T’Pol finds the information about the Federation herself, and sows the seed of rebellion among the “subhumans”. It seems that Vulcans are among those driving the rebellion against the Terran Empire, and as such, T’Pol has a vested interest in making sure that Defiant never gets in the hands of the Terran Emperor.

Thus continues a constant shift of betrayals and alliances. Archer takes out Admiral Black when it’s clear that his “field promotion” is never going to happen. In an interesting writing choice, the “mirror” Archer is mocked by an imaginary “real” Archer, feeding the insecurity that plagues the “mirror” Archer and drives him to reckless action. In a performance worthy of Shatner from the original series, Archer tries to gather support for his plot to use Defiant to overthrow the current Emperor and take power for himself.

It’s not a wise move. Archer’s anti-alien sentiments are hardly a secret to the crew, and T’Pol is more than happy to spread the legend of Federation around. The “mirror” version of Soval, bearded in the tradition of “mirror” Spock, is a former revolutionary, willing to court death by standing against Archer rather than delay the inevitable should Archer fail (or for that matter, succeed). Indeed, Archer is so open in relishing the ability to wipe out enemies without pause that he invites such dissent and desperate action.

Homage to the original series is all over the place: the Defiant itself, Bakula’s hilarious overacting, the use of original series’ uniforms (why couldn’t Hoshi put on the micromini and boots, damn it!), and the use of the Gorn from “Arena”. The CGI version of the Gorn is quite effective, though it’s hard not to wish that the cheap costume from the original series might have been replicated! The standoff with the Gorn provides a chance for the writers to remind the audience that this is not the usual “Enterprise” scenario; regulars can and will be injured or killed. This is important in terms of the final act.

If there is a subtle element to this two-part episode, it’s the portrayal of Hoshi. In the “real” universe, Hoshi has barely been a part of the tale; she’s been relegated to the background, despite being an early fan favorite. There were early signs of an attraction to Archer, but that was overshadowed by the other early signs of an Archer/T’Pol potential pairing. All in all, Hoshi has shown no ambition.

One thing that the two versions share, however, is a healthy sexuality. Though it was promptly forgotten, Hoshi in the first season was the one character that had a shore leave fling on Risa without consequences. So she’s one to enjoy the sex. The “mirror” version of Hoshi also wholeheartedly enjoys her sexual dalliances, but they are a means to an end, not an end unto themselves. Though it does bring up some vague concerns about the “Asian Dragon Queen” stereotype, it actually fits the premise that the “mirror” versions of the characters have opposite lifestyles and motivations from their “real” counterparts.

Hoshi has Archer wrapped around her little finger, as the extended and highly sensual seduction scene demonstrates. Linda Park does an incredible job with the material; it couldn’t have been entirely comfortable for her to have a script that basically said: “Get naked with just about everyone.” More to the point, there’s such a consistency to her choices that the final act makes perfect sense in retrospect. The subtlety is in the fact that her true goal is, in the end, a total shock.

Once Archer faces his own mini-rebellion, he leaps into Khan-esque material. It would be easy to dismiss this as bad acting, but as the “catfight” between Hoshi and T’Pol suggests, the campy tone of the episode is completely intentional. This is a case of longtime Trek fans creating a story that has absolutely no appeal outside of their own ranks; most of the in-jokes would be completely lost on the general audience, and the writers had to know that. Considering that the series was already cancelled by the time this episode was in production, the writers and cast seem to be using this story as a release, a way to just have fun before the final curtain closes.

It would have been easy, based on the state of the Terran Empire in “Mirror, Mirror”, to conclude that Archer gets his way and the rebellion is crushed. That is, until Hoshi poisons him after a bout of sweaty, energetic sex. It’s a perfect plot twist, especially since she allied herself with Mayweather to get it done. Seeing Archer die probably made some fans very happy, but seeing the two most ignored characters end up on top of the Terran Empire is the perfect end to this alternate universe tale.

Some might wonder if this two-part tale was worth the time and effort, since the series was coming to an end and there are still plenty of open questions to be answered. Yet the fact remains that this was a quick and easy way to flesh out the Tholians, show an updated Gorn, and prominently display an original series-style starship with modern effects. That fits the mission statement of tying elements of the original series into “Enterprise”, and it even gave the writers a chance to show that they do have the ability to work outside the box. And there was the indirect revelations about Archer and the future, answering the questions about his role in Federation and the Romulan Wars (based on the dates given) rather concisely.

While the “mirror universe” is a bit too harsh for a long-term arc or series (there’s already a series filled with bad acting and mindless aggression; it’s called “Andromeda”), the darker tone and less rigid approach to the production are both elements that could have been useful earlier in the series’ run. Looking back on the first two seasons, too much of the material felt like a simple retread of “Voyager”-esque character/plot elements. The Temporal Cold War felt forced as treated, and beyond some of the Vulcan/Andorian episodes, there was only general progress towards Federation. When the writers did attempt a darker turn in the story with the Xindi, for many it was too much of a deviation from the established continuity.

The success of this season (in terms of critical acclaim, at the very least) would seem to prove out that a “prequel” series could succeed, under the right circumstances. This episode in particular demonstrates how well a series set during Kirk’s era could translate into the present; the Defiant looked incredible, and with that intentional soft-filter in place, those uniforms were a wonderful shot of nostalgic sweetness.

With “self-awareness” being in vogue on many successful series in this day and age (try to deny that “Alias” and “24” don’t wear their over-the-top dramatics on their sleeve), it would be interesting to see the producers move from this series (hardly a failure after four seasons, longer than many series ever would see) and come full circle. Imagine a series set in Kirk’s time, perhaps just after, with updated yet “historically correct” effects, exploring the same kind of odd universe that Kirk used to run around in, with just a hint more of that “self-awareness”. Imagine a series that could tap into the mythic qualities of Trek (still deeply rooted in the original series’ image) and still pave new ground, exploring extremes of storytelling ala Peter David’s “New Frontier”, mixing comedy and ultra-seriousness in the same swashbuckling adventure. This episode suggests that it could work, if only because it’s very easy to forgive missteps when so many other elements are this enjoyable.


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is just as enjoyable as the previous installment, thanks to another update of a classic Trek alien species and a few logical plot twists. The over-the-top acting is still in place, but it also still fits the tongue-in-cheek tone of the episode, so it’s not as jarring as it could have been. Perhaps most interesting is how well the old-style Starfleet vessel design works with the updated effects; the sight of crew members in the old uniforms puts the lie to the thought that it wouldn’t have worked from the beginning.

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

Final Rating: 9/10

Season Average (as of 4.19): 7.7