Battlestar Galactica 2.3: "Fragged"

Written by Dawn Prestwich and Nicole Yorkin
Directed by Sergio Mimica-Gezzan

In which Col. Tigh continues his downward spiral as he struggles with calls to free the president, while the situation on Kobol comes to a disturbing head as Baltar’s conversion continues…


Every time I think that things can’t get worse for the Colonials, the writers up the ante. This time, it’s all about the interplay of the plot threads on Galactica and Kobol. As situations go completely downhill, it’s all about how fortunes change, present and future. Tigh’s decisions lead to Roslin’s unexpected return to power as a spiritual leader and another step towards a conflict between religious and warrior factions, which is always a lot of fun. Meanwhile, Crashdown’s inevitable loss of perspective leads to a disturbing consequence involving Baltar.

I suppose it was inevitable that Tigh would return to his drinking, and it sure as hell doesn’t help him make better decisions! It’s not very helpful that the entire crew seems to know that he’s losing stability, thanks to his past history, and that they don’t feel like they can do anything about it. After all, what would they do? They’re already reeling from the loss of Adama’s strong and consistent leadership. There’s really no one else that they could rally support behind, is there?

Except Roslin, of course, and that’s the problem. Tigh has never respected Roslin, and apparently, he respects the whole idea of the Scrolls of Phylia even less. But when people are seeking a sense of direction, religious leaders are particularly compelling. Roslin also knows the value of when to claim some kind of foretold authority. She truly believes herself to be the instrument of the Lords of Kobol, and what’s more, the Quorum of Twelve believes her.

So Adama basically threw down the gauntlet, because the “religious leader” compelled one of his warriors to defy orders. The response was the assumption of total control by Adama, who was then the victim of a brutal attempt on his life by the enemy. Now the reversal of fortune is in play: Roslin is regaining a purpose and political strength, while the military leadership struggles to retain control. Tigh is simply not Roslin’s equal, and so rather than convince others of the strength of his political stance, he seeks to impose his will.

While Roslin believes that she is following the Lords of Kobol, Baltar continues to operate under the impression that he is the instrument of God. Of course, he has no idea what God wants of him, other than the fact that he is meant to embrace the more violent aspects of his humanity. This is perhaps indicative of how the Cylons think, but that’s not necessarily a given. It’s what Six wants Baltar to hear, and that’s about all I get out of it.

Whatever the case, the question I have in my mind is how Baltar’s ongoing conversion is going to be used to support Roslin or transform her message into something that will benefit the Cylons. If Six is not speaking for the rest of the Cylons, then it’s even more of a blurred picture. It feels like Baltar is being honed into an instrument, a willing strike at the heart of the Colonials. Beyond that, there’s still a lot of story to be told before motivations are likely to be clarified.

If Ellen Tigh is a Cylon, as strongly hinted in the first season, then it makes sense that she would want her husband to take control. He’s so far out of his depth that his “leadership” would be catastrophic. Undermining Roslin was her apparent goal (and that once again suggests that Baltar is being groomed to pervert or subvert her message). How much worse would it be if she turned out to be simply human, indulging some love of chaos?

The end of the struggle on Kobol came together quite nicely. I never expected things to get quite so intense, but then, I suppose I should have known better. I really believed that Crashdown would shoot Kally right then and there! I love how things get out of hand, even within the structure of a rather predictable resolution. I expected the Colonials to save the SAR team at the last possible moment, and for the Raptors to arrive when all seemed lost. It’s how the writers managed to sneak in a little doubt that made the episode for me.

With the Kobol situation more or less over, I expect that the next episode will actually bring an update of the situation on Caprica. The prophecies related to the Arrow and the Temple were mentioned again, so clearly that’s something that will continue to unfold. And then there’s the timetable suggested by Roslin’s admission of impending death. If she is the foretold leader, then she’s got very little time to point the Colonials towards Earth. My bet is that the entire season will be the process of getting to that part of the tale.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Buffy 4.17: "Superstar"

Written by Jane Espenson
Directed by David Grossman

In which Jonathan casts a spell that makes him the best at everything, but when a monster starts attacking people, Buffy begins to figure out that the world is not as it should be…


Status Report

After a couple of episodes that focused strongly on Buffy, Faith, and Adam, the season’s theme of self-identity veers into unexpected territory with this installment. Essentially a professional version of the everyday fanfic “Mary Sue” staple, this is all about someone trying to escape one’s reality through creation of fantasy world. In the process, much is revealed about the characters and what they believe about themselves.

Everyone sees in Jonathan, thanks to his spell, the person that they wish they could be. In some cases, it’s the effect of the spell; it’s as if a little bit of everyone was stolen away so that Jonathan could be the best at everything at all times. But that also serves to emphasize, for many of the characters, the qualities that they struggle with about themselves.

Right from the beginning, the effects are obvious on Buffy and Giles. Buffy lacks her usual confidence and sharpness, which is remarkably like the person that Buffy had been in the season premiere. This actually helps to explain why Buffy is able to recognize that something is very wrong as the episode unfolds; Buffy has been in this psychological space before, and she was able to work past it.

Giles, on the other hand, seems obsessed with gaining some sense of approval for his efforts. The suggestion is that he feels like his life is lacking a clear direction and meaning, and that his purpose as Buffy’s mentor has lost much of its necessity. The fact is that Giles doesn’t know what to do without the Watchers; as the series would later demonstrate, he eventually finds a way to resolve that inner conflict when the opportunity presents itself.

If this episode had focused entirely on the fallout of Faith’s seduction of Riley, then it might have been a bit tiring. Allowing the healing process to take place within the context of Jonathan’s fantasy world is a brilliant move. Jonathan points out exactly what many fans assumed in the previous episode: Buffy is disappointed that Riley couldn’t do what she could do with Giles in “A New Man”. Using the “Mary Sue” of Jonathan to point it out is really just a different spin on exposition, letting the audience understand Buffy’s emotional state while keeping things interesting.

Beyond the sight gag of Jonathan working with the soldiers of the Initiative, that scene reveals important aspects of the season arc. For one, it firmly connects the Initiative to a military operation, secret or otherwise. It also highlights the fact that the Initiative is completely unprepared for an adversary with the intelligence and purpose like Adam. Jonathan gets to deliver more exposition on Adam (including producing design specs that really shouldn’t exist), setting the stage for the end of the season.

Like Buffy, Riley’s emotional state is explored in his conversation with Jonathan. Another intriguing question comes up: even in her confused state, did Faith rock Riley’s world? After everything that Faith mentioned to Spike, one has to wonder if she didn’t use a few of those tricks on Riley. It’s unlikely, since Faith wasn’t operating in her usual vixen mode, but Buffy’s concerns on that end would be sensible.

Turning to Xander and Anya, some interesting aspects of their relationship are revealed. Xander, not surprisingly, has some serious self-confidence issues. He’s constantly worried about whether or not he’ll prove worthy of Anya’s near-constant attentions. Anya’s obsession with all things Jonathan doesn’t help. One can speculate that this is indicative of an obsessive personality in general, based on her transition to human life and the need for something to give her a consistent feeling of comforting normality. (There’s also an odd return to the “Is Xander gay?” motif of earlier seasons, but it’s not that meaningful.)

What’s most interesting about Jonathan in this episode, beyond how his spell throws the format off kilter, is how he chooses to live out the world of his spell. He could simply be rich and beloved, but it goes beyond that. He genuinely wants to help people, and it genuinely bothers him that Karen is hurt because of something related to his spell. He immediately recognizes that the creature is a product of his choice, and for the rest of the episode, Jonathan deals with the fact that he can’t allow others to be hurt, even if he gets everything he wants in the process. (This becomes very important to his character in the sixth season.)

Even Adam’s reaction is revealing. Adam responds in such a way as to explain the depth of his perception and how he interprets it. Clearly, Adam thinks of himself as being far more powerful than he really is, but he’s still gathering data and trying to build his understanding of his purpose and being from that data. It’s exactly what all self-aware beings do; most of them simply don’t have self-diagnostic programs to help them along!

Getting Riley to the point where he takes Buffy’s side, despite the evidence of his own senses, was a big part of this episode. Riley is a lot closer to seeing the world from outside of the Initiative’s perspective. Unfortunately, this also means that his strongest material is nearly at an end; once his character arc is done, his presence is little more than a distraction in the fifth season. But that moment also mirrors Buffy’s realization in the season premiere, where she grabs onto reality, despite the momentary lack of self-confidence.

In another early hint at what would come to pass between Buffy and Spike, Spike shows a remarkable amount of attraction to the Slayer. For that matter, she’s rather attracted back. This is possible foreshadowing for the sixth season (Joss plans a couple seasons ahead, after all), since a lack of confidence and self-worth opens the door for her attraction to dark things. After everything Faith said to Spike in the previous episode, there’s certainly a lot of reason for him to consider what it would be like!

One thing doesn’t quite come together. The Scoobies figure out that in order for Jonathan to become a paragon of everything good, then the monster is supposed to be a paragon of everything bad. Except, of course, that the monster is rather unimpressive. Conceptually, it works; in practice, it simply wasn’t possible.

As Jonathan comes to the realization that he must accept who he is, rather than endanger others in the process of trying to be a paragon, Buffy comes to the realization (at least on a certain level) of who she is supposed to be. In essence, she is realizing what it really means to be a Slayer. That leads directly into the eventual consequence of the fourth season: Buffy’s search for self-identity turns into a quest to understand what it means to be a Slayer.

As a diversion (and even as a distraction), the Jonathan/”Mary Sue” concept worked well enough. It’s not the kind of episode that one watches very often, but when running through the DVDs, it’s a pleasant change of pace. Jane Espenson gets to show her best snark, and the cast gets to play things a little differently than usual. It’s rare for commentary on fanfic and the season’s theme get to have so much in common!


Memorable Quotes

XANDER: “It is a true test of dexterity.”
ANYA: “Can you open this?”
XANDER: “No, I tear it and it gets all sloshy…”

ANYA: “Xander’s not here.”
BUFFY: “Oh.”
ANYA: “You’re not going away. Why aren’t you going away?”

ANYA: “Oh…you’re still here. That’s nice…”

BUFFY: “And I’m the Slayer…the Slayer! That’s supposed to mean something!”
ANYA: “Oh, buck up, you! You kill the best…go you! Kill kill!”

BUFFY: “Stop with the shrimp! I am trying to do something here!”

BUFFY: “Giles, do you have a Jonathan swimsuit calendar?”
GILES: “No! Yes. It was a gift!”

WILLOW: “Buffy was right. Buffy was right!”
ANYA: “It doesn’t sound very likely, does it?”

XANDER: “You know what I’ll always remember?”
RILEY: “The swimsuit calendar’s sticking in my mind. Not in a good way.”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is a pleasant diversion from the usual format, with just enough overlap with the “real Buffyverse” to allow the writers to maintain progress on the season arcs. Jonathan’s story works perfectly with the season’s theme of self-identity, and it’s damned funny as well! The concept itself doesn’t quite work in the end, thanks to a lame monster, but it’s still one of the more amusing fourth season episodes.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Ghost Hunters 2.1: "27 Jul 2005"

Case Study: Myrtle’s Plantation


I divurge somewhat from my usual reviewing slate here, because this is one of those few reality series that I actually think has a compelling subject matter. I could really care less about people redecorating at this point, makeovers that emphasize conformity, dating shows that emphasize conformity, etc. And since I don’t really care much about cars, all those shows can take a hike, too. (Yes, I watch “Survivor” and “American Idol”, but I don’t pretend that they have any lasting effect on my consciousness.)

“Ghost Hunters”, on the other hand, offers a potent double punch: compelling individuals with a rather unique perspective on the world, and possibly the most scientific approach to paranormal investigation I’ve seen. And there’s part of why I love this: I’ve actually participated in this kind of thing before, and Jason and Grant are correct when they say that most groups try to prove the existence of the paranormal. These guys try to debunk hauntings. The difference is that what some might say is evidence is, to them, not enough to meet their expectation.

Of course, the best part is delving into the crazy little world that they’ve created for themselves. There’s a whole subculture out there that considers TAPS to be highly reputable. I look at how they describe and rationalize their own experiences, past and present, and consider it an interesting take on how people respond to questions that they cannot answer. Every so often, they stray from evidence into sincere discussion about demonology. One could easily decide that these people are crazy…and yet, who doesn’t try to reconcile something that science and religion cannot fully explain?

The best part of the series, of course, is the investigation aspect. I love seeing the process that they go through, both the “science” and the subjective comments, and I love the fact that they show anything that they “find” and then break it down for the audience. A lot of what they find, they dismiss and explain away, even when it’s fairly compelling evidence to the audience. This episode was no exception.

I’ve actually been to the Myrtle’s Plantation, back in my Anne Rice fandom days in the mid 1990s. A lot of those “hot spots”? I’ve actually been there! I remember hearing a lot of the same stories, so I was very interested in seeing what they would find. I’ll admit, though, that I was slightly disappointed in how little they documented, especially when people started flipping out. And way too much time was spent on Brian and his possible firing. (This just goes to show how hard it is to get rid of a bad employee.)

OK, so on to the “evidence”!

I find it very interesting that neither Jason nor Grant remembered that little story about the 17th step, because that’s exactly the spot at which that heat signature showed up on the thermal camera. It was too much of a coincidence, in my book, and given their eventual conclusions, it would have been a great combination of anecdotal evidence and a recorded anomaly.

The other thermal image wasn’t linked to anything, but it was a lot more bizarre. Because they had to spend so much time at the beginning of the episode rehashing the mission statement and concept behind the series, they didn’t get into the operation of the camera. That kind of anomaly is hard to reconcile, especially since the recorded image was of something very close to the camera. If something “normal” had been there, Jason and Grant would have seen it.

I found it odd that the most compelling evidence was considered to be the lamp. Sure, they tested how the lamp would have to be moved to reproduce the effect, and it wasn’t easy to pull off, but it wasn’t like the chair that moved by itself in the first season! It was just odd how they missed the obvious connection earlier, and then focused on something far more questionable.

Also odd is the dismissal of that shadow that appears out of nowhere at the front door, when everyone on the team is otherwise accounted for. Could it have been someone outside? Sure…but looking at that footage, I’m not at all convinced that the figure wasn’t inside that door. And that would have been a lot harder to explain.

So what do they conclude? As one would expect, they believe Myrtle’s Plantation is haunted. My problem with that? The evidence wasn’t as strong as it could have been, and it might give new viewers a false impression of how high Jason and Grant set the bar. Thankfully, it looks like the next episode will feature both a debunked case and a more active site.

Chill Factor: 7/10

Stargate: Atlantis 2.2: "The Intruder"

Written by Joseph Mallozzi and Paul Mullie
Directed by Peter DeLuise

In which the Daedalus comes under the control of a Wraith computer virus, while the Atlantis team returns home from Earth, where Weir found that her struggles are far from over…


After a season premiere that capped off a three-part action-driven epic, I think the writers were right to focus more on character. Two themes were evident as the episode marched on: “you can’t go home again” and “threats can come from unexpected directions”. A lot of the focus is on Weir and her struggles to keep control of the expedition, now that the political landscape on Earth has changed a bit and there’s more of an SGC presence.

The plot revolves around the potent threat posed by a Wraith virus left dormant in the Daedalus computer network during the previous episode and the efforts to eradicate it. As usual, it takes a while for everyone to recognize the scope of the danger and get a complete picture as to the solution. If there’s one thing that’s predictable in this episode, it’s the fact that if something can go horribly wrong, it will do so without fail and with a few choice snide comments from McKay!

As many have already noted (including the producers!), this is really just a variation on the “Stargate SG-1” episode “Entity”. Thankfully, this wasn’t a case of the writers cribbing old episodes without acknowledging the past. There’s something to be said when the characters recognize that it’s a familiar situation and respond accordingly!

This episode could have easily been centered on the return to Earth and the experiences of the characters. But the writers wisely recognized that this wouldn’t have served the story as well. Switching between the two themes, along with some action scenes to keep the episode moving, kept things from being too pedestrian.

The most obvious “intruder” in this episode is the Wraith virus itself, but that’s only in terms of the big picture. Taken from Weir’s perspective, there’s another, more personal threat: Caldwell. Caldwell has very clear ideas about how the operation should be run from a military perspective, and that’s a battle that Weir thought she had won. Now she’s dealing with someone with a lot less reason to follow her lead, since Caldwell is only weeks away from Earth and his command structure at any given time.

Many feel that the presence of Daedalus will detract from one of the primary elements of the series: the fact that the team has been isolated by the inability to return home to Earth. On the other hand, it’s still not a Sunday drive, and the past two episodes have provided a keen reminder that human technology, even mixed with Asgard enhancements, still doesn’t hold all the answers. Supplies and personnel might be more readily available, but for the most part, it’s just an ongoing source of dramatic conflict, since Weir can no longer assume that her authority remains as strong as it was.

More importantly, this episode makes the case that the team on Atlantis has lost some connection to the world they used to inhabit. Weir’s struggle with Simon and his new life says it all. The team on Atlantis was not unlike a division deployed to foreign front lines, with survival and return far from certain. They held a vision of the world they left behind in their minds, but it was an image of what was. In the meantime, people had to move on, assuming the worst. Weir learns that the hard way with Simon.

Along with getting him his promotion, Weir seems to be recognizing just how important Sheppard has become to her sense of control. Most importantly, Sheppard is part of her team; he’s experienced the same level of adversity, and he understands how the team must interact. He brings his military experience to the table, but he’s not some outside, inexperienced authority. Sheppard is going to be even more important to Weir in the episodes to come, and with Simon out of the picture, who can say what will happen?

There were the usual bits of humor, centered on McKay and Hermiod, which gave the episode its distinctly “Stargate” flavor. Sheppard continues to drop the O’Neill-esque one-liners, and while one continues to wonder if the man has ever owned a comb, he’s still one of the best parts of the series. Thankfully, it looks like Teyla is going to get some screen time in the next episode, since the few moments with her this season have been less than impressive.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Dead Zone 4.6: "The Last Goodbye"

Written by James Morris, Shintaro Shimosawa, and Steven Binder
Directed by Michael Robinson

In which Johnny discovers that a musician beloved by Sarah is still alive, despite a well-publicized death, and in the process of finding him, the two uncover more than they bargained for…


I didn’t really care for the last two episodes. This one is similar to the other two, but I found myself enjoying it more. It still had some of the same predictable weaknesses, especially in terms of investigating an apparent murder, but the framework of the story is a bit more personal. I find that the episodes dealing with Johnny’s personal life, in conjunction with his ability, rise above the more standard fare.

This could have easily been an episode about a random rock star’s son who Johnny just happens to catch in concert. Instead, the writers make the elder Foldes and his music an iconic part of Sarah’s history with Johnny. This could have easily imposed upon the existing mythos of that relationship, but instead, it adds another layer of meaning. Granted, it could have been grafted to the overall past history a bit more carefully, but the concept itself plays into the nostalgia that many children of the 1980s can relate to.

It’s rare for Johnny and Sarah to be on the same page this season, so it’s good to see them working together. Is this a sign that the writers are steering back into all-too-familiar territory? I certainly hope not. The Johnny/Sarah/Walt thing has run its course, and at this point, they need to settle into a stable equilibrium. The scenes with Walt seem to indicate that his fears have been largely addressed, despite the indiscretions of the past. Johnny, too, seems to have moved on.

Sarah’s comments, on the other hand, make her sound a lot more conflicted than she should be. But then, that could have a lot to do with the circumstances. Foldes and his music became, in her mind, something forever associated with Johnny and her life with him. There’s a metaphor at play between Foldes, his apparent death, his discovery, and Sarah’s relationship with Johnny. If Sarah equated Foldes’ death with the end of her relationship with Johnny, is his “resurrection” now dredging up emotions she thought she had resolved?

Even if that’s the case, it doesn’t have to be more than a wistful moment. Foldes returns to life, so to speak, but he has no intention of returning to his old life. Similarly, Sarah might be reminded of the depth of her love for Johnny, but she could also be reminding herself that their feelings for each other must evolve into close friendship.

Ben Foster seems to bring a true intensity to his roles, even if the “deeply conflicted” thing is getting a bit old. I truly disliked his character on “Six Feet Under”, and while I see a lot of the self-loathing in Darrin, at least he’s not so annoying. One actually believes that Darrin is this scarred inside, and that’s what Foster brings to the table.

What I didn’t like were all the plot holes. The gorgeous Audrey is stabbed in the back of the shoulder with a needle, and the coroner still concludes that it was an overdose! That’s the kind of plot convenience that drives me nuts. And given who killed Audrey in the first place, it’s hard to figure out who beat up the reporter. For that matter, who was Darrin’s mother? Some random groupie?

It’s the possible metaphor with Sarah that makes the episode work for me. It helps me set aside some of my issues with the predictability (I saw the killer’s identity coming a mile away) and the plot holes. As someone who grew up in the 1980s, I completely understand Sarah and Johnny’s point of view. Just look at how people react to the combination of Springsteen, the disappearing icons of the Jersey shore, and their relationships…it’s something everyone can relate to on some level. It’s still not as strong as I expect from earlier seasons, but it’s regaining momentum.

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

Final Rating: 7/10

4400 2.7: "Carrier"

Written by Douglas Petrie
Directed by Leslie Libman

In which one of the 4400 discovers that her ability is to wipe out large populations by releasing a plague when she is agitated, while nearly everyone else deals with personal distractions…


This is the mid-point of the season already, sad to say, but the series has hit its stride. After a couple of episodes that took the story in completely unexpected directions, this episode settles back into the format that worked so well at the series’ inception. At the center of the tale is the discovery of a lethal 4400, but the real impact is what happens while everyone is running around on the job.

I happen to like that a lot better, especially now that the subplots are more interesting than the ones at the beginning of the season. No more endless road trips through the most bigoted regions of the Northwest, at least! Instead there’s more of a focus on how dealing with the 4400, on a personal level, is far more unusual than one can predict.

I’m glad that the writers didn’t assume that Alana was simply part of the gang now. Her integration is being handled nicely. I like the fact that her “knowledge” of Kyle has only served to demonstrate how much his condition has stolen away his choices. He’s just a lot more aware of it now. He also knows that he shot Collier, which the previous episode suggested would be discovered shortly. It’s a great place for Kyle’s character to be in at the dramatic mid-point of the season arc.

Sean’s travails are also strong narrative ground. It would have been easy to have him proceed with only a few token doubts, but the writers take the more difficult road. Adding a lobbyist with a personality and look very similar to Collier just adds to the tension. Now it’s not just a pseudo-religious movement; it’s also a movement with designs on steering political currency. I’m actually sad that the writers only have six more episodes this season, since this part of the story alone is worth spending hours exploring!

It was inevitable, perhaps, that April would try to use Maia as a gambling device. That was probably the most predictable part of the episode, because it centered more on genuine human emotion than the more fantastic elements of the series. April should have seen it coming a mile away…but then again, that’s inherent to her character. She’s so wrapped up in her own world that it’s easy for her to see Maia as a tool rather than as a person.

Not as interesting, but probably just as important in the long run, is this crush that Marco has on Diana. The writers seem to be trying to avoid the obvious Tom/Diana pairing by offering other possibilities (or quickly writing them into place). As disturbing as the whole Alana thing was, this is actually a lot more creepy. Marco is trying way to hard to get on Diana’s good side, and that fake diary is just asking to be discovered. Season finale, anyone?

The case this time was nerve-wracking on two levels: the modern fear of all things microbial, and the fear of unfettered religious zealotry. Jean Lynn Baker is about as mentally unstable as a person can be, so why would the “future humanity” give her the “ability” to unleash a “death field” through sores in her hand. Once more, the whole idea that the 4400 are preparing humanity for a better and brighter future is under question. (And any future that manages to make the lovely Sherilyn Fenn look so ragged can’t be 100% benign!)

Another strong episode with a relative minimum of predictable moments. Tom and Diana continue to be on paths that promise conflict down the road, and both are making choices to protect loved ones against their own abilities, good or bad. Sean is beginning to see how corrupted and corruptible the 4400 Movement can be. No wonder this is one of the most acclaimed genre series around!

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Stargate SG-1 9.2: "Avalon: Part II"

Written by Robert C. Cooper
Directed by Andy Mikita

In which the team uncovers an Ancient communication artifact under Glastonbury Tor, and Daniel and Vala end up stuck in another galaxy where the Ancients went in a very different direction…


Picking up where the previous episode left off, this installment has all the hallmarks of being the second part of a trilogy. It resolves the immediate cliffhanger from the premiere and sets up the third and final part of the story. The scope of the season premiere as a whole is now a lot easier to appreciate. I like the fact that three episodes are being used to introduce the basis for the new status quo instead of just one; it gives the writers more time to establish a clear and present danger.

The resolution to the Ancients’ puzzles is fairly simple. I’m not sure I buy the idea of an Ancient, even Merlin, using Arabic numerals, but conceptually, it works well enough. The swordplay is a bit silly at times, but that’s probably intentional. Again, like the previous episode, Mitchell avoids being a clone of John Crichton, but there’s enough similarly between the two to let Ben Browder shine.

So the point is this, it seems: a device for long-range communication with other humans related to the Ancients is discovered, and Daniel uncovers the possibility that the Ancients originated from someplace other than Earth. (For some reason, I don’t remember that last bit being much of a question, but I could be mixing up my SF-TV mythologies.) I like the connection to “Citizen Joe” (an underrated commentary on fandom, I thought).

So the Ancients have a name now…Altera? And it seems that the Ancients that were hanging around the Milky Way/Pegasus galaxy region were more useful when they decided to ascend, because at least they weren’t demanding that their descendents worship them like gods! The suggestion seems to be that the Ori are Ascended who are all too happy to interfere. In other words, I expect them to be like a whole mess of beings like Anubis, but with absolutely no ties to the Goa’uld. Not a good thing!

I loved the immolation scene, because I never thought it would actually play out. Kudos to the writing team for going the extra mile! Sure, the whole religious extremism angle was covered plenty of times in the past, and there were some very familiar elements, but it was necessary to provide the framework for how the Ori had manipulated the situation. Vala’s resurrection was also important to establishing the Ori as manipulative. (This kind of new direction for the mythology, based in the old but exploring new ground, is exactly what “X-Files” failed to do.)

Speaking of Vala, she was a lot less annoying this time around. I think it was because the writers didn’t feel the need to smack us over the head with her personality. It’s out there, it’s established…time to move on and just let it happen. Dr. Lam should prove to be an interesting “replacement” for Janet after all this time, and I like the fact that there’s a relationship (father and daughter, I reckon) with Landry. It adds to the potential drama.

The only thing that doesn’t quite work so far is the ongoing process of isolating Teal’c from the Jaffa High Council. So much is happening off-screen that it’s hard to get a good feel for it. I hope that the next episode culminates in something a bit more definitive than Teal’c deciding, off-screen, to rejoin SG-1. The best way to revitalize the series is to continue focus on the characters and several ongoing, inter-connected plot threads.

I’m still trying to figure out how the whole Merlin/Avalon thing led into the Altera/Ori thing, but it feels like the kind of unexpected direction that the plot would have taken in earlier seasons. Then again, if the writers were looking to smooth over the obvious goal of introducing the Ori, this is about as organic a way of doing as I can think of. The writers had to sell a lot to the fans, and while I’m sure it didn’t work for everyone, it’s a strong case for a renewed sense of purpose.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Battlestar Galactica 2.2: "Valley of Darkness"

Written by Bradley Thompson and David Weddle
Directed by Michael Rymer

In which Cylons infiltrate Galactica, slaughtering the crew and forcing a desperate defense, while the survivors on Kobol deal with mounting losses and Baltar struggles with his loyalties…


This week continues the slow but steady exploration of all the craziness from the first season finale, and I couldn’t be happier. There’s no shortage of body count or red-shirts, and the stakes continue to rise as none of the adversaries, human or otherwise, seem ready to let threats from the outside get in the way of a grudge.

It would have been so easy for Tigh and Lee to bury the hatchet and let the whole business over the president be bygones. At least, I would have expected that from some other series. The writers didn’t disappoint me, because instead of taking the easy way out, they were only civil to one another while their goals were temporarily aligned. They didn’t discuss it outright or go into detail about it after the fact. They worked together when convenient, and then naturally acted like it never happened.

Speaking of the boarding party, I’m glad that there wasn’t some major lag between the end of the previous episode and the continuation of hostilities. I’m also very happy that the Cylon virus didn’t simply disappear. Consequences are everything on this show, and everything that happens in this episode is a consequence of poor command decisions in the premiere. It’s hard to think about that as the stakes get higher with every passing moment; quite literally, they brought the siege upon themselves.

The real question is whether or not the virus is going to continue to be a problem in the future. Wouldn’t it be fun to see Adama asking Tigh, in that low but deadly voice, why there’s a Cylon virus running around a bunch of systems that were never supposed to be connected? Like the previous episode, this is an ongoing commentary into the weaknesses of Tigh, and it’s not pretty. The man may be holding a grudge in realistic fashion, but it still doesn’t make it a good choice!

Events on Kobol seem more and more like a way to put the screws to Baltar and whatever allegiance he may retain to humanity. Those visions once again seem metaphorical, though it’s hard to tell with this series. Specific or otherwise, Baltar doesn’t just believe that a hybrid is necessary, but that humanity (embodied by the most threatening of humans) is the enemy of that necessary future. Step by step, Baltar is being conditioned into the perfect weapon against humanity.

I have the sinking feeling that the writers are slowly but surely wiping out the survivors on Kobol so that at some point before the remaining few are rescued, one of the better known characters will die. They’re simply running out of red-shirts down there! Six’s warning is just vague enough to make it possible that everyone but Baltar will die, but then again, it’s impossible to know if she’s saying all of that as part of the conditioning.

One thing that I didn’t quite get, from a story perspective, were the scenes on Caprica. They seemed out of place, though it was probably necessary to explain how Starbuck and Helo manage to get around in the following episodes. Was there a point to those scenes, though, beyond that plot element? It was some minor insight into Starbuck’s character, but at the moment, it doesn’t seem all that important in relation to the rest of the episode.

On the other hand, though, those scenes did give me a chance to breathe between the scenes on Galactica and Kobol, so I suppose they served that purpose. Overall, this was another fine installment. I really love how all these plot threads continue to move forward, bit by bit, and the writers don’t feel the need to bash the audience over the head with explicit meaning. The story is what it is, and the audience is invited along for the ride.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

X-Files 5.9: "Schizogeny"

Written by Jessica Scott and Mike Woolaeger
Directed by Ralph Hemeckler

In which Mulder and Scully investigate the mysterious death of a supposedly abusive father, only to discover that they have come to a town where nature seems to be under someone’s control…


Status Report

This is one of those episodes that can be easily dismissed. It has very little to do with the rest of the series as a whole, there’s not much in the way of overt character development, and Scully is practically sidelined for no apparent reason. There’s also the little matter of a confusing plot with killer trees. But a closer look reveals an interesting and even meaningful concept close to the heart of the mythology.

At first glance, the plot is bizarre. In this particular town, apparently abusive fathers are getting killed. It turns out that trees are doing it, something only Mulder seems to understand. This is tied to a blight on the trees that last came 20 years earlier. The kids whose fathers were killed were undergoing therapy with a disturbed, previously abused woman whose father mysteriously died 20 years earlier. Her consuming hatred, it seems, resulted in a final psychotic break, which somehow got the trees all freaky again.

It’s hard to know if the writers themselves knew what they were trying to suggest. Some episodes are put together with little more than a high concept like “Trees kill people!”. But there’s also a commentary on abuse in this particular case, and everything centers around Karin Matthews. The question is: how did Karin turn into the person seen in this episode, and how did that translate into the events depicted?

The writers aren’t saying that terribly abused individuals are all capable of making the world around them animate and murderous. Karin is depicted as a woman filled with a unique brand of continual rage, triggered by the fact that she has attempted to overcome it by teaching others how to defeat anything that challenges their self-esteem.

As the episode progresses, it’s more and more apparent that Karin is in some way “possessed” by her father. Psychologically, it’s as if she obsessed so much over her hatred for her father’s power over her that she stopped questioning it. It become a reality that she could never overcome, and thus the cycle perpetuated until some element of her father’s abusive personality manifested itself in her own mind.

But two things were also tied to Karin’s history: the timing of the blight afflicting the trees and the death of Karin’s father. The death of Karin’s father seemed to end the previous blight, just as it’s suggested that the current blight is the result of Karin’s father’s personality emerging in her mind. The suggestion is that Karin’s father was the one bringing the blight, but is that the logical conclusion?

In the lore of the paranormal, poltergeist activity is often related to young or teenage girls who are emotionally volatile, yet can’t express themselves openly. If one takes that concept and expands on it, while also giving it focus, it could easily apply to Karin. At the height of each abuse cycle, her unchecked and unexpressed rage afflicts the trees that define her world, and in turn, her will animates them as depicted. It gets to the point where Karin transfers her memories onto the children, so as to create the justification for the rage.

In terms of the mythology, there’s the concept of “sentinels” like Albert Hosteen and Scully, humans with a genetic predisposition to interact with the spiritual, consciously or subconsciously. (In terms of the mythology, these are the people with the latent abilities needed to defeat Purity.) Karin could have been one of these “sentinels”. But instead of growing into her abilities (or having them remain latent), the physical and psychological abuse from her father resulted in a premature and violent outlet of power.

The other side to that, however, is the possibility of being subsumed by a stronger non-corporeal intelligence. In earlier episodes, malevolent intelligences had taken over those with a fractured sense of identity. Twenty years earlier, Karin’s rage had led to her father’s death. What if his personality was so powerful that it remained intact enough to plague Karin. One could then speculate that when Karin chose to enter the counseling profession, thinking that she could help others avoid her kind of childhood and emotional issues, the resulting explosion of rage allowed her father to take control (psychologically and spiritually), triggering another subconscious release of power into the environment.

This is the situation that Mulder and Scully find themselves in, and it’s not pretty or entirely sensible out of context. This is a case where the agents are reacting to the symptoms, and because they do not understand the scope of the system, they can only guess at the source of the pain and suffering. Events take place that are outward expressions of something distinctly spiritual.

Taken from this perspective, it’s a question of whether or not the various elements fit within the context in a logical manner. For the most part, they do. There are still some oddities that make the episode less than perfect, but from a conceptual point of view, the events are not nearly as bizarre and contrived as they first appear. It all comes down to considering how the universe of “X-Files” is meant to work, given how broad the “extreme possibilities” canvas can be.

It’s not entirely clear how Mulder and Scully become involved in the case in the first place. The timing is particularly odd. The season premiere took place in October 1997. “Detour” took place sometime in November 1997. The next in-continuity episode, “Christmas Carol” (along with “Emily”) took place in late December 1997 through early January 1998. “Kitsunegari” was logically a week or so later in the timeline, so this episode is probably mid-January 1998. From a timeline point of view, the suggestion is that Mulder and Scully are still on relatively “light” duty, following Scully’s return to the field and the fallout from Mulder’s little showdown with Blevins. So this case was probably assigned and assumed to be routine.

There’s also the little matter of the portrayal of Bobby and Lisa. Granted, these are supposed to be troubled children with psychological hang-ups the size of Michigan, but they act like they’re perpetually stoned. Bobby’s affections are incredibly annoying in particular. Then again, that kind of look wasn’t the norm, and Bobby would play up his personality to overcome the fact that he was a constant target.

Some attempt is made to establish a rebellious phase in Mulder’s own childhood. Mulder refers to the fact that Bobby could have been him. While it’s easy enough to imagine that Mulder’s childhood was dominated by a psychologically damaging father and a disconnected mother, it’s hard to see Mulder as the rebellious type. Mulder rebels against authority only when the structure prevents him from getting the answers he needs to fulfill his mandate. His response to his parents would have been closer to immersing himself in his academics than heavy drug use.

Fairly early in the episode, it’s obvious that Karin is involved. Oddly enough, it takes the agents forever to figure that out. It’s more a question of character missing details, and the plot being forced in directions necessary to allow that to happen. Scully might as well not even be in the episode; she’s there only to present a foil to Mulder’s evolving assumptions and speculations. Her own interpretations are completely suppressed, and no reason is given for it. She gets to be tough with Bobby in front of the class with the chemistry teacher that doesn’t know chemistry (check the blackboard), but that’s about it.

For instance, why does the coroner completely miss the obvious chunk of wood sticking out of the victim’s neck, and why is Mulder the one making the observation? All things being equal, that’s usually Scully’s shtick. Mulder makes the typical leap regarding the source of the “splinter”, but Scully doesn’t even try to give an alternative explanation. There’s the “plot device with an axe”, who actually turns out to be the resolution to the case. (And if there’s a major issue with this episode, that’s the issue: the agents don’t really bring about the resolution.)

Lisa’s predicament is a direct consequence of an incredibly stupid decision on her part. She knows something is going on in the house, so why walk into a dark basement without at least putting the light on? Why not try to break the window and get the hell out of the house? Why wait to break the window and call for help until after the agents are gone and Defenseless Aunt arrives?

Mulder and Scully aren’t much better. There’s one scene in which they discuss an issue, standing in the middle of a rainstorm, shouting to hear each other over the noise…and they are completely dry the entire time. They drive up to Karin’s house and completely miss the rather large body sitting on the side of the house. They walk into the house and the basement without even trying to put the lights on. External to the basic concept and its complications, the storytelling breaks down as the episode marches on.

Perhaps the most obvious flaw in the concept of Karin subconsciously manipulating the world around her is the ending itself. Once Karin was dead, what or who would continue that manipulation? One could suppose that it’s Karin herself, or whatever is left of her viable personality, but that’s weak with respect to the idea that a violent death equates to a fractured non-corporeal existence. And while it makes sense that Mulder wouldn’t understand what had happened, his final voiceover suggests a confidence in his conclusions that masks the underlying concept.

As far as the presentation as a whole, the episode is visually evocative. This is paced more like a feature film or a true anthology series installment. This could have been lifted out of a superior “Outer Limits” episode. Unfortunately, that is also one of the drawbacks of the episode: Mulder and Scully bring nothing of themselves to the case. Very little makes it necessary for these characters specifically to tell the story. As interesting as the concept is, it just wasn’t integrated into the series well enough.


Memorable Quotes

MULDER: “Hey, Scully, is this demonstration of boyish agility turning you on at all?”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode had an interesting concept, tied indirectly to some of the deeper mysteries of the mythology, but the execution made it hard to comprehend. The episode is visually stunning, but the treatment of the characters doesn’t quite fit with Mulder and Scully. Filled with odd inconsistencies, this is definitely not one of the better episodes of the season.

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

Final Rating: 4/10

Angel 1.16: "The Ring"

Written by Howard Gordon
Directed by Nick Marck

In which Angel is taken captive by human brothers who run an illegal demon bloodsport ring, where he tries to foment a revolt while Wesley and Cordy work to rescue him…


Status Report

If there’s a list of staple plot devices for genre television shows, the “illegal bloodsport story” ranks fairly high. This is especially true when the writers are looking for someone to play Spartacus within some engineered gladiator game. The success of such an episode is typically dependent on the level of subtext. Even when the story works well, there’s a feeling that the writers didn’t try so hard. Even shows like “Babylon 5”, hailed for their multi-layered storytelling, fail to make such episodes viable.

In this case, the issue is one of an illegal fighting ring, where demons are forced to fight to the death for the pleasure of the upscale crowd. This is interesting on a few levels. Consider that this means that some of the biggest movers and shakers in the Los Angeles area are aware of the existence of demons and willing to use them to their own advantage. Wolfram and Hart is ostensibly the legal representative firm for the majority (if not all) of the clients.

This being a Howard Gordon episode, the concern is whether or not there’s a strong enough execution of the concept. Gordon is, typically, a good idea man with a spotty track record in terms of implementing those ideas. This one wasn’t even his idea to begin with, so it would have taken a lot of effort and depth to overcome the familiar and well-trodden plot threads. Unfortunately, that’s not the case.

The whole set-up is just a little too obvious. Darin is obviously setting Angel up for some kind of fall. The real question is why Angel was targeted by the Macnamaras. It might have been interesting if Wolfram and Hart had decided that Angel might be an issue, and decided that the ring was a good place to either corrupt or eliminate a potential enemy. Unfortunately, the script wasn’t even that complicated.

One aspect that works well (at least from a comedic perspective) is the website: “Demons, Demons, Demons”. That’s just simple enough to be inspired. The idea of a web-based demon bestiary is damned funny, and it probably inspired a lot of fans to check the web to see if there was a mocked-up webpage!

As one would expect, once Angel is in the clutches of the evil Macnamaras, a couple of clichés are trotted out: the brutal champion (Val Trepkos), the bully (Cribb), and the meek victim (Malish). Angel quickly defends the victim against the bully, as every would-be Spartacus must. The victim gets angry at Angel for fighting his battles, even though it’s obvious that he can’t fight his own. When the victim is matched against the champion, of course, even the bully has a measure of sympathy.

This episode at least continues the evolution of Wesley as a character. He’s still occasionally bumbling in his choices, but he’s developing an edge. He does a great job with the bookie, for instance, employing some down and dirty methods to get the information he needs. It’s a welcome change, especially since it presages his more casual violent side in the later seasons.

Angel’s decision not to fight his opponent is a convenient way for the writers to toss out the rules of the game. It also gives Wesley and Cordy some time to arrive on the scene and demonstrate how well they are beginning to gel. It’s not so much the bickering of a married couple as the sparring between siblings. Angel makes for an interesting father figure, but in essence, that’s the role he’s taken. That said, one has to wonder how Wesley knows about the ongoing demon pit fights when they were a complete surprise to Angel; exposition, it seems, can be a cruel mistress!

If there is one scene that actually breaks away from the conventional, it’s the scene where Angel takes Jack hostage. Angel is shocked to discover that the demons aren’t willing to fight for their freedom. The suggestion is that they are willing to kill to be free, and that the “live and let live” alternative doesn’t hold much weight. Equally surprising is Darin’s decision to kill Jack rather than let the demons go. The Macnamaras were already on the same level as the demons they enslave, but in that moment, Darin sets himself apart.

This represents the first real attempt by Wolfram and Hart to subvert Angel’s crusade to their own devices. Taken in retrospect with the fifth season and its explanation for the goals of the firm, this makes perfect sense. If Angel were to agree to the arrangement, then he would effectively be allowing the apocalypse to continue unabated. This is why it would have made more sense for Lilah to be the one behind Angel’s capture from the beginning, rather than someone taking advantage after the fact.

There is, however, a completely predictable result: Angel is scheduled to fight the champion (as he surely must), and of course, it’s the champion’s last fight towards earning his freedom. Thus it boils down to what one would expect: will Angel be able to convince the champion to risk his life for others, or will the champion stick to what he knows? The answer is not exactly original, since it always turns out that the champion initially sticks with the rules, until something happens to convince him (during the fight, of course) to change his mind.

Equally predictable is Angel’s apparent victory, wiped away when he refuses to kill Trepkos, unwilling to give in to the demands of the game. Trepkos, of course, regains the advantage, only to find himself unwilling to deliver the killing blow when his victory is assured. Just at that moment, Wesley and Cordy’s lock-pick triggers a mass revolt. Darin is dealt justice through his own method of discipline, and the crisis is over. There’s even time for a moment of comic reflection, but by then, the audience is wondering whether it was worth it.


Memorable Quotes

WESLEY: “For your information, I lead a rich and varied social life.”
CORDY: “Oh, I know…every night it’s ‘Jeopardy’ followed by ‘Wheel of Fortune’ and a cup of hot cocoa. Look out, girls, this one can’t be tamed!”
WESLEY: “I’ll admit it may not be as intoxicating as a life erected on high fashion pumps and a push-up bra!”

ANGEL: “Come on, Darin! We both know there’s only one way to let this play out. So let’s just get it done. He’s your brother.”
DARIN: “Now he’s my dead brother.”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was a far cry from the quality of the previous installment. Beyond introducing Lilah Morgan, this episode has little meaning in the scheme of things. Howard Gordon delivers a predictable and tired script with very few surprises. There’s some nice growth in the relationship with Wesley and Cordy, but it’s too little of what the episode needed.

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

Final Rating: 4/10

Dead Zone 4.5: "Heroes and Demons"

Written by Michael Taylor
Directed by James Head

In which Johnny is contacted by an autistic boy who finds a way to communicate, seeking Johnny’s help to prove that his father, on death row, is an innocent man…


Like the previous episode, there’s a feeling that the writers are struggling to find the hook into each new story. Having played with most of the obvious variations on psychic murder mysteries, the writers seem to be struggling to keep the series from slipping into a serial mode in terms of the mythology. As much as I like the overarching concepts of the story and how it diverges from the original novel, I wonder if the writers need to take advantage of the large episode order (a total of 20-22, IIRC) to delve into the Stilson mythos.

My wife happens to work as a teacher in a “second chance” school for behaviorally challenged children. Since many of those children have a mild form of autism called Asperger’s, she’s been taking the necessary training and extended educational courses to understand the condition. She also has a cousin with a form of autism. The bottom line is that she is often skeptical of how the condition is treated in the media, and in this case, in her opinion, the pattern holds. (Yes, I know that she’s not an expert, but she knows more than I do on the subject and so I defer to her on this one.)

This episode is no better at portraying the intricacies of autism, since inevitably, story concerns trump reality. Frankly, realistic depictions of autism would be incredibly frustrating and boring. This is inevitably where Johnny comes into the picture, since his ability can cut through the communication barrier to a certain degree. But the writers can’t get over the fact that the information would be nearly impossible to interpret, so a consistent rationale is established.

I’m not sure that I liked the whole Tolkien-esque fantasy theme. The opening sequence neatly incorporated elements of the opening to “Fellowship of the Ring” and Galadriel’s monologue, right down to a bit of Elvish. It communicated the idea that Thaddeus is completely immersed in his interpretation of the world. But that’s something I found hard to accept: how could a child so focused on that frame of reference manage to travel on his own without anyone raising an eyebrow.

The story requires Thaddeus to be a silent witness to events critical to his father’s survival. Therefore one would have to accept that the child was regularly following his father around and basically interacting with the world on enough of a level to accomplish perfect surveillance. Yet it’s also made clear that the child was often completely unable to interact with his father. Apparently, this is possible with autism, but funny how it also happens to serve the exact needs of the story.

Perhaps it’s just that episodes centered on autistic children are troublesome for me, based on the personal angle. I’ll admit that possibility. I will say that the young actor who played Thaddeus did a very good job. But that final scene, where Thaddeus opens up to his father? It rubbed me wrong. It seemed a bit too dishonest, designed purely for the emotional payoff. It broke the spell, in a sense, created by the concept of a child with so many challenges accomplishing something profound. I thought it would have been far better to have Thaddeus’ father simply recognize that his son loves him dearly, even if he can’t express it directly.

I don’t want to make it sound like that’s the only problem I had with the episode. I found the “mystery” to be rather predictable as a whole. I immediately guessed that the partner was the true crooked cop (isn’t that always the way it goes?), and that made the rest something of an exercise. If I had enjoyed the shift in perspective a bit more, the predictable elements might have been less annoying. But as it stands, I simply didn’t like the episode.

One aspect, quite apart from the story itself, is the music. I actually like the new theme, because after the initial disappointment, I let it slip past my defenses. But the music within the episode has been spotty at best, and this time around, it really got on my nerves. Television scoring is largely done by computer these days, and sometimes, it’s all too obvious. (Early “Stargate SG-1” episodes were particularly guilty of destroying a fine episode with cloying synthetic music.)

It’s way too early into the season to be worried about a decline in quality, especially when this is an episode that might simply be ranking low for purely personal reasons. But I’m still holding out hope that the next episode will reach my expectations!

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

Final Rating: 5/10

4400 2.6: "Life Interrupted"

Written by Ira Steven Behr
Directed by Michael Watkins

In which Tom finds himself in a world where the 4400 were apparently never abducted, but when his “wife” remembers being an abductee, the truth turns out to be more than he imagined…


Every so often, a series will begin with a well-worn plot device and end up in completely unexpected territory. Moments like those remind us why we love the show in the first place. When I was watching the trailer and first act of this episode, I thought I had it all figured out. I knew Alana had to be planting that fantasy world into Tom’s head, but never for a second did I consider that it might be something more than an individual action.

What’s great is that the episode doesn’t start off in “reality”. It begins in the fantasy world and continues to progress from there, right to the decision point. Ironically, I mentioned in my comments for the last episode that I wanted to get a better idea of how Tom’s role was supposed to play out. Sure enough, the writers were one step ahead of me. Instead of following up a huge episode with something predictable, they drop down an episode that is clearly important to the series and its mythology.

One thing this episode touches on, at least tangentially, is the concept of “consensual reality”. The fantasy world that Tom inhabits through most of the episode is not internally consistent. There’s no way that NTAC would let him back in the field if he were still showing signs of instability. He certainly wouldn’t be given a gun! The point was to get him to where the door is, so his mind could absorb that piece of information. As Alana says later in the episode: if he were to reject what was being given to him, he would prove that he wasn’t the right man for the job.

One of the most difficult things to do on a series is building a loving relationship. It usually takes a very long time, or methods of storytelling that skip over that time. It’s nearly impossible to have a relationship just appear out of thin air. And yet, that’s exactly what the writers have accomplished. Tom and Alana are given a nearly perfect relationship, complete with a shared sense of how things ought to have been, and that gives them an instant rapport. Tom doesn’t have to go through the process of explaining all his problems to someone new.

This ought to play out very nicely over the rest of the season. Things are about to get traumatic for Tom, and he’s going to want to turn to Alana for support time and again. She’ll be there, as planned by “the future humanity”, to serve that function and keep him on task. But how will the others in Tom’s world react to the idea of this sudden, fully functional relationship? At what point will NTAC begin wondering whether Tom is acting of his own accord?

And that brings up an interesting possible parallel with Kyle. Some have speculated (and I happen to agree) that Kyle might be receiving ongoing “instructions” from “the future humanity”, all part of a kind of maintenance program for the plan involving the 4400. Something needs to be done, Tom hasn’t done it in a timely fashion…Kyle is utilized. Isn’t using Alana and her ability essentially the same sort of thing? Using Tom against his will?

In a way, that says a lot about “the future humanity” and the intention of sending back the 4400. They say it’s for the betterment of the future. But their methods leave much to be desired, and if they used questionable ethics in creating and maintaining the 4400, why assume that their end goal is any less questionable? What if the evidence begins to suggest that the 4400 were seeded back into humanity for a malevolent purpose, and Tom and Diana are placed in even more conflict with NTAC?

A lot of the imagery was very creepy, especially the representation of the facility where “the future humanity” (I really have to think of a better name) altered the abductees. The writers took a risk by focusing so completely on a few characters and one plot thread, but it fundamentally alters Tom and changes the status quo completely. Not only that, but I had no idea what the twist would be, and that it would turn out to have so many layers of potential consequences. This is already one of my favorite episodes, if only because it demonstrates that the format can be altered successfully.

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

Final Rating: 9/10

X-Files 5.8: "Kitsunegari"

Written by Vince Gilligan and Tim Minear
Directed by Daniel Sackheim

In which Robert Modell escapes from prison and those responsible for his defeat begin dying, but when the investigation proceeds, Mulder believes the killings are from a different suspect…


Status Report

After an “introduction” phase that eschewed stand-alone episodes for mythology and character development (and even some “non-canon” fare), the writers return to the well for a few episodes while working out where to go next. With the series at its critical peak, especially in terms of the popular culture, there must have been some desire to touch on the themes and concepts that were popular in season past.

According to Tim Minear, the story editor for the most acclaimed period in the series’ history, the original story concept was something more in tune with “Millennium”: a serial killer who escapes prison, supposedly on the “word of God”, to stop someone else from committing murders. The idea was to have Mulder go against his own instincts and believe in the killer’s conversion, because the evidence would suggest that the “word of God” was in fact real. Scully, on the other hand, would find herself denying something that her faith insists as possible and miraculous.

That episode could have fit rather easily into the mythology of the series, especially since divine intervention has been on the agents’ side since the very beginning. Instead, Vince Gilligan suggested that the character of Robert Modell, the antagonist from “Pusher”, be cast in the role of the killer. Thus his motivations change dramatically: it’s not the “word of God” that matters, but rather, his knowledge of a sibling who has decided to kill in his name.

Right away, this introduces complications. Modell was supposed to be dying and permanently out of commission. He was also completely unrepentant. It’s interesting to note that the writers avoid this little problem by giving no explanation whatsoever for Modell’s change of heart. Nor is it at all clear how Modell learned of his sister’s plans to exact revenge. Since the episode begins with Modell’s escape from prison, there’s not even an indication that Linda Bowman contacted Modell with hints of what was to come.

Character motivation is everything, so when the writers force Modell into the mold that Minear originally cast, it doesn’t fit very well. As the meeting with the marshals suggests, Modell’s mindset was firmly established in “Pusher”. Referring to that gives the audience reason to suspect Modell and thus generate conflict when Mulder believes differently, but the seeds of Modell’s motivations should have been intact. They are not intact, and as a result, the episode never quite comes together the way it should.

It also seems odd that Mulder would emphasize the dangers of dealing with Modell, only to ignore his own advice several times over the course of the episode. Mulder is used to placing his own life on the line for his theories, but this is a bit ridiculous.

The plot is so thin that there’s no hidden meaning in Modell’s desire to contact Mulder. He’s trying to warn everyone about his sister, apparently out of a desire to get to her first and convince her to stop the killing. That’s literally the extent of the story. All of the important and ground-breaking character work in “Pusher”, the real reason that episode was so popular, is missing. Instead, the writers place Mulder and Scully at odds, apparently on the hopes that the episode will culminate in a compelling confrontation.

There are some interesting images along the way. “Death by house paint” is a particularly memorable image, and one must admit that “kitsunegari” is inspired, never mind Scully shooting herself in the head. Bowman’s slow and methodical use of the “push” to induce Modell’s death is a great use of the ability.

But then there’s the list of things that aren’t so impressive. Bowman’s hint-laden conversation with Mulder is somewhat silly, since Mulder is forced to pin his suspicions on those hints and it only serves the purpose of getting him off the case. Even after Mulder’s theory becomes more tenable, the writers make sure that Mulder and Scully are at each other’s throats.

The worst flaw of the episode is the final confrontation. Mulder is lead to the address where Bowman is apparently waiting for him. Bowman has apparently staged this little event to ensure that Mulder kills Scully, under the belief that Scully is Bowman and that Scully has already been “pushed” into killing herself. There’s just one problem with that. Why would Scully have gone to the building where Bowman is waiting for Mulder? Scully doesn’t believe Mulder at all, and there’s nothing to indicate that Mulder shared the address that he found on the back of the “Nurse” badge.

More importantly, this is the easy way out. Instead of having Mulder and Scully threaten each other against their will, like in “Pusher”, it comes across as a random act of revenge. Nothing that happened up to that point in the episode was building to that confrontation. It’s just a bit too conveniently staged and there’s not enough explanation surrounding the whole event. In the end, Bowman’s existence doesn’t have the same impact as Modell’s.

The final scene is meant to bring the events into some kind of focus, as if Mulder’s near-killing of Scully was somehow his responsibility. Granted, he went hunting after Bowman on his own, and that led to the confrontation, but that was largely Skinner’s fault for isolating Mulder in the first place. It would have been more logical, however, for Mulder to wait for Bowman to come for him. If he really believed that Bowman wanted revenge, then he would have realized that Bowman only killed when it served that purpose. Mulder could have waited for Bowman to make a move out of impatience, and it would have been over.

What this episode lacks is a sense of depth. The story is relatively thin, and the events just happen as one would expect. Sure, the writers make Modell out to be the villain, but once Mulder draws his conclusion, it’s rather obvious that Bowman will be the true enemy. The character work of “Pusher” is completely absent, and that makes all the difference. Add to that a few plot conveniences, and this is an episode that doesn’t quite match the potential of either writer.

Ironically, Tim Minear would move on and begin working with Joss Whedon, who would use a very different storytelling method with “Buffy”, “Angel”, and “Firefly”. Minear would deliver some of the best episodes of his career while working on those series, and his post-“Mutant Enemy” work has been equally impressive. One can only assume that he learned what not to do when working with Chris Carter and 1013.


Memorable Quotes

SCULLY: “A serial killer makes us believe that he’s guilty, in turn diverting the suspicion away the real estate lady…well, he had me going…”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was a disappointing sequel to one of the most popular episodes of the series. Bringing back Modell for this story was an ill-advised attempt to capitalize on impressions of continuity, especially since the character aspects of “Pusher” were completely absent this time around. It’s hard to believe that Vince and Tim, both strong writers on their own, were responsible for this material.

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

Final Rating: 4/10

Stargate SG-1 9.1: "Avalon: Part I"

Written by Robert C. Cooper
Directed by Andy Mitika

In which Lt. Col. Cameron Mitchell is assigned to lead SG-1, but he is less than pleased when he finds the original team dissolved, especially when an old adversary comes calling…


As I was watching this season premiere, I was struck by the overwhelming touch of the familiar. It wasn’t just the return of a certain energy to the storytelling. It wasn’t just the welcome return of Ben Browder and Claudia Black to my television screen. It was the feeling that I had during the eighth season of “X-Files”, when the producers sought to continue that series once David Duchovny decided he was done with the show.

Robert Patrick was brought in as a new character (John Doggett) and immediately the fandom was fractured into two warring camps: those who wanted the series to end without Duchovny, and those who wanted to see where the writers could take things with a new character in the mix. The ratings took a predictable drop, and even now, the overwhelming opinion is that it was a mistake. Yet that masks something that many fans have since discovered on their own: the final seasons of “X-Files” were hardly the universal horribleness that some Duchovny adherents insisted.

There will inevitably be those who bemoan the fact that Jack O’Neill is no longer a mainstay of the series. True, he was the heart of the team for several seasons, but it’s been a while since he’s been truly a presence. He was reduced to a few snide (often lame) comments here and there, and at times, he was visibly bored. Browder looks anything but bored, and he has an equally strong comedic pedigree. If this episode is any indication, he understands the series’ inherent mixture of the serious and self-aware absurd and plays it to the hilt. There are shades of John Crichton in Mitchell, but the characters are distinct enough to allow the familiar to inform the unique.

Vala, however, is a more troubling character. Claudia Black certainly plays the character with relish, and it’s clear that she enjoys being sexy without apology. The corseted wardrobe definitely doesn’t hurt! But she sometimes plays the character too over the top, crossing the line that her initial appearance tred so carefully. Given how serious the episode was at the beginning, Vala’s antics brought the episode back towards the hilarity a bit too quickly. It’s still a lot of fun to see Claudia again, though, and she serves the necessary purpose of driving characters who were logically growing apart back onto the team.

Speaking of that necessity, I love the fact that the team is split up when the episode begins. It would strain credibility beyond all measure for the end of the eighth season to not result in a fractured team. It’s perfect to begin with the new commander and the new general. It’s still a hard break from the old regime, but it avoids the cliché of “passing the torch”. Landry is thankfully very different from Hammond or O’Neill. I’m still not sure what I think of him, but I didn’t immediately hate his guts, so it’s a better start that I was expecting!

With all the focus on the new characters, it’s almost jarring when Daniel and T’ealc return to the story. Daniel’s involvement is perhaps more logical, thanks to his character’s relationship with Vala; T’ealc feels like he was forced into the story. Amanda’s “delicate condition” thankfully makes her return a bit more protracted, giving the writers the chance to make that a more organic process. I’m not loving Daniel’s beard, but hey, it’s better than that thing that bonded to T’ealc’s chin a few seasons back!

As for the story itself: typically half-cheesy, especially the Merlin stuff. “Stargate” has always embraced its own inherent absurdity, reveling in the fact that the whole “mythological” motif was a bit over the top at times. Yet it makes perfect sense, within the context of the series, for Merlin to have been related to the Ancients and Avalon to have a real-world meaning. It can be goofy, but that’s part of the charm (at least for me!).

This is apparently the first part of a three part premiere, which means that there’s a lot still to be revealed. The writers are taking their time with things, and hopefully, I’m not the only one willing to see what they can so with fresh blood. As much as I admit that “SG-1” has always been about a core team of people, the series has enough legs to it to bring in new cast members and still survive. Unless, of course, the fans aren’t willing to go along for the ride.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Stargate: Atlantis 2.1: "The Siege: Part III"

Written by Martin Gero
Directed by Martin Wood

In which the arrival of the Daedalus helps Atlantis repel the Wraith’s initial attack, but the situation gets much worse when they send reinforcements and something goes wrong with Lt. Ford…


Before I go any further, I just have to have a moment of silence for the first season opening theme. I’m not sure why SFC decided to chop it down and remove the inspiring and memorable music, but I suspect it had something to do with adding commercial time. (Networks do silly things like that and pretend it doesn’t matter.)

I liked how it started right where it left off, and for the most part, the transitions were seamless. In fact, I was left wondering if the entire first act hadn’t been the original final act for the first season finale. Bear with me…wouldn’t that have actually been a logical place to end the series, if SFC had pulled a “Farscape” on it? It’s like the rest of the episode was somewhat tacked on to the original ending. I didn’t think it was bad, but there was a slight different feel to it after the first act. Very strange.

I think the addition of the Daedalus to the series will be a good thing. “SG-1” was always introducing new technology to the mix as the series went on, and having something bigger than a puddle jumper around is going to come in handy. It also adds an “outside” military presence to the series, which ought to play nicely against the group led by Sheppard. There are now several groups with very different levels of experience with the Wraith and the status quo of the Pegasus Galaxy, and that ought to be fun for the writers to play with!

I’m not sure what to think of Mitch Pileggi’s role yet. Supposedly it’s only going to be a recurring role, which I think would be unfortunate. For one thing, the man needs work! But he also needs a chance to get out of the chair and develop more of a personality. He’s something of a cardboard cutout right now, which is all right for an introduction under such circumstances, but his motivations need to be clarified.

The battle against the 12 Hive Ships was a great showcase for the special effects, and I’m glad the situation wasn’t resolved so easily as suggested. The final solution is also a mere delaying tactic, though. The writers make it sound like Ford is the weak link, and that his presence beyond Atlantis is likely to break the illusion. But that ignores the fact that they run around from planet to planet all the time! Aren’t the Wraith going to find evidence of their continued presence anyway?

I buy the fact that the Wraith would see the explosion and assume that the city was destroyed in a moment of spite. (I’m not sure why the Ancients would have failed to attempt a similar tactic, but there we are.) But the thing with Teyla and her little telepathic connection to the Wraith comes across as too convenient, especially after how difficult it was for her at the end of the first season. For that matter, in a few scenes, Teyla was a little “off”, like in the scene with McKay in the first half, so maybe that’s why I didn’t buy it completely.

This thing with Ford ought to be interesting. It’s about time they gave him something to do. He was probably my least favorite character from the first season, and frankly, he could have been the first major casualty, and I wouldn’t have minded. Now, though, he ought to be trouble for the team, and his ordeal might serve to explore more about the Ancient/Wraith connection.

I love the Daedalus! I thought the Prometheus kicked some serious butt, but this ship is even more massive and formidable. I love it when the writers actually think about how the shields and weapons work, and keep the technobabble to a relatively low roar by using established concepts and playing them out. By using and removing the one quick advantage of having the Daedalus around, the writers keep it from becoming too convenient a plot element.

As season premieres go, it was pretty good. It had a lot to cover, and it did that and more. I didn’t see Ford’s thing coming at all, especially since problems like that typically get resolved. I hope that this is a sign that the writers will continue to “up the ante” and keep the episodes from becoming too self-contained. The first season had a nice balance of dropping information about the mythos into each and every episode, and I’d love to see that continue.

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

Final Rating: 9/10

Battlestar Galactica 2.1: "Scattered"

Written by David Wettle and Bradley Thompson
Directed by Michael Rymer

In which Colonel Tigh is forced to take command of Galactica, but when something goes wrong when an emergency jump, his confidence is tested when difficult choices must be made…


If there’s one thing that I really like about “Battlestar: Galactica”, it’s the measured pacing. The story isn’t artificially accelerated to serve the purposes of a fickle fanbase or network pressure; the producers tell the story the way they want to, and if it takes forever, then it takes forever. Ron Moore probably had enough of being jerked around by networks after “Roswell”, so why not make a show on his own terms and be done with it?

The result is very different than most shows, even the ones that I love, where arc elements are equally important as stand-alone elements. Taken along with the “Stargate” shows, where arc elements are typically not as important as maintaining an episodic format, this is like a breath of fresh air. (I like all the various series I’ve mentioned, BTW!) But how many other shows would focus almost entirely on the psychological issues of a few characters, letting the audience’s questions smolder for a little while longer?

A lot of this episode is about Col. Tigh and his massive lack of self-esteem. He’s frackin’ right about the fact that he shouldn’t be in command! A lot of what he takes on his shoulders isn’t for him to answer to, but he’s a drunkard and his personality clashes with everyone in the universe. That makes him a capable enough second, but not the commander, and it shows. Things get done, but things also get missed. It’s inexcusable for Tigh to miss the fact that an obvious breeching pod slammed into his ship.

But like so much on this show, it’s about the consequences of how events are handled, not the events themselves, that matter the most. Sure, one wonders what’s going on with the Boomer who shot Adama, but it’s how Tigh deals with her confusion that hits home. It’s how Adama’s decision to incarcerate Roslin could very well make her stronger among the people, not unlike Zarek in the first season. Circumstances are likely to make things a lot harder on Apollo than they already are, if the civilians and soldiers become even more divided.

I loved the short scene with Starbuck and Helo, especially since it raises more questions about what the Cylons might be up to. Helo clearly sees less difference between the humans and Boomer than one might think, and if she is indeed pregnant, he’s got plenty of reason. Starbuck ought to know from her own experience that there are organic components to the next-gen Cylon tech. Why wouldn’t that include clones with Cylon nanotech intelligences?

Which brings me to the whole Six/Baltar thing. I understood up until the point that she said she was the mother and Baltar was the father. It worked better as a metaphor (humans and Cylons birthing a new hybrid species), but then again, if Boomer can be pregnant, so can Six. More to the point, if Baltar believes that God wants such a hybrid race, he’s likely to ensure it, however possible. What if that was the point? What if the Cylons see humans as little more than breeding stock, so they force humanity into small, manageable numbers? The Cylons could use them until the new hybrid species is viable on its own, and then they could wipe humanity out.

It’s probably a bit more complicated than that, and it will likely take a season or two for things to really make sense. Until then, this bunker mentality is working well in terms of the psychological drama. Starbuck and Helo are still on Caprica, there are survivors on Kobol, and there’s the fracturing within the fleet itself. By keeping all of those balls in play, the writers give themselves plenty to keep themselves (and us!) occupied.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Buffy 4.16: "Who Are You"

Written by Joss Whedon
Directed by Joss Whedon

In which Faith tries to slip her way into Buffy’s world, but as she begins to experience Buffy’s life, she begins losing sight of her own personality, while Buffy struggles with the Watchers…


Status Report

The previous episode focused primarily on the fact that Faith had come out of her coma with a fractured sense of self and a set of unjustified grievances the size of Montana. It ended with Faith literally taking everything from Buffy and forcing Buffy to walk in her shoes for the rest of her life. As revenge fantasies go, Faith manages to live out one of the more satisfying ones. The theme of the season, however, is self-identity, and how one learns to define one’s purpose, so Faith doesn’t have it as easy as she might like.

At this point of the season, things finally begin to gel in terms of the season arc. Buffy’s personal issues and the fracturing of the gang into personal growth experiences has left the door wide open for someone to come along and organize the demonic world. One gets the sense that the Mayor’s defeat at the end of the third season left most demons searching for their own direction and purpose, and the Initiative’s work sent them into even more of a panic. Adam steps in and finds his place in the world as the one to gather the troops and make a move to dominate; instead of being the perfect demon-killing machine, Adam becomes the perfect weapon to eliminate humans.

Given how much time was spent in the previous episode on determining Adam’s next move, it’s interesting to note how Faith disrupts that effort in a major way. Certainly Faith has no intention of risking herself to stop some killing machine that she hopes to never encounter. Her thought process never went beyond getting on a plane and pretending at having a new life. But even before that happens, the nurturing aspect of Buffy’s world begins to have a disturbing effect on her. The unconditional love of a mother is not something Faith is used to experiencing.

The bit with the mirror is a lot of fun, and it gives Sarah a chance to demonstrate her ability to mimic Eliza’s particular depiction of Faith. The constant, mocking repetition of “because it’s wrong” provides a baseline for Faith’s mental stability. Faith sees Buffy and her moral compass as hopelessly naïve and self-limiting in the beginning, when she has some hope of remaining unscathed by the trauma of her own decisions.

This being a Joss episode, everything promised regarding Willow and Tara in “Hush” comes to fruition. Unlike some of the other aspects of the season, their relationship has grown on a fairly logical pace. The effort to make Tara look unconventionally attractive continues, however, and in some scenes, the effect is actually closer to disturbing. Willow would definitely go for a goth Wicca; she wouldn’t go for someone who looks like a stoner. Sure, Tara may be trying to look a certain way to place the rest of the world at arms’ length, but it makes one wonder about Willow’s taste.

For all that, Joss is remarkably honest about the circumstances of the relationship between Willow and Tara. A lot of fans eventually took issue with the way that the relationship ended and its supposed connotation for “the nature of lesbians”. What is often overlooked is the fact that Willow might have easily gone into a relationship with a male Wiccan, with the same end result. The entire relationship begins out of a shared passion for magic, and from the beginning, Willow is attracted to the allure of sharing and expanding her abilities. The seeds for Willow’s descent are already well established. In turn, Tara’s personality is established in such a way that she is effectively centering her universe around Willow.

One could draw parallels of dominance/submission within that relationship, but that would ignore the fact that Tara is a person who has been taught to demean herself, regardless of the relationship. In a way, her reaction to Willow is the kind of reaction she would have had to anyone who treats her as valuable. The point is that these are character flaws that are entirely independent of the fact that this is a lesbian relationship, and the eventual consequences derive solely from those previously established character flaws.

Something very interesting happens when Faith vamps up Buffy. One immediately realizes that a lot of the inherent sexiness of Buffy’s character disappeared after the third season. Part of that is certainly character-driven; Buffy had more than enough reason to reject the side of her that resembled Faith and everything Faith loved about being a Slayer. But part of it is the fact that Sarah became a bit too skinny over time, to the point that they couldn’t even find a stunt woman who could match her body frame. Not to be crude, but Buffy used to have cleavage, and those leather pants used to fit a lot better. (Why wouldn’t Faith choose a push-up bra, when in her usual body, she’s displaying the bosom without hesitation?) Sarah still looks damn good in this episode, and she knows how to be seductive and dangerous, but it exposes how much that side of her character has been missing.

On another note, the Watcher hitmen finally catch up with Faith’s body, and Buffy is probably not happy to discover that the Watchers have a cleaner squad. For that matter, it’s a little surprising to think that the Watchers would have people ready and waiting to conduct extreme prejudice on Slayers who cross the line. Joss is clearly trying to give the Watchers a dangerous edge, but it doesn’t quite fit with the impressions of the organization thus far. It also makes one wonder why, if the Watchers were willing to eliminate Faith, they were more than happy to let Buffy run around as a rogue agent. (Then again, as previously mentioned, it works to their advantage, since Buffy gets to risk their neck while they get time to train the Potentials more thoroughly.)

Faith seems to enjoy toying with the Scoobies, but it bothers her somewhat to know that Willow hates her. This is the other side of the equation that Faith can’t seem to deal with. She’s not comfortable with the kind of world that Buffy has creating for herself, filled with genuine nurturing, and she doesn’t like dealing with the reality of how strongly people hate her for her actions. To live as Buffy, Faith has to start thinking and reacting like Buffy, and it brings up alternative emotional responses that she would normally be able to dismiss.

She quickly decides to use Adam as an excuse to go have some wicked fun at the Bronze, and she runs into Spike. At this point, Spike is still engaged in his hate/hate relationship with Buffy, but Joss turns that around in a hurry. This is where Sarah really makes Faith’s raw sexual energy shine through, even if she doesn’t have the assets for it. Faith’s little description of what she could do speaks volumes, and it certainly gave Spike (and most male fans!) something to think about. If Spike wasn’t secretly lusting after Buffy before, he certainly was after that!

But it also reveals something that Faith’s character has always hinted at: the raw and primal instincts of the Chosen. All that power and physical ability is clearly a rush, and tapping into the wellspring at the heart of the Chosen line is like a direct connection to the pure and predatory animal. Faith let the pain and suffering of a (likely) sexually abusive childhood translate into a desire to use those primal urges to control her relationships with men. She plays Spike like a fiddle.

At the same time, what does that say about Buffy? She has to feel a lot of the same desires, but her sense of morality keeps a lot of that in check. Indeed, she seems to hold back just a little too much at times. When she loses that sense of purpose and direction, and she wants to punish herself in the sixth season, how does she respond? By abusing herself and Spike in exactly the way that Faith depicts in this episode. It’s hard not to believe that this was intentional on Joss’ part, because while Buffy’s self-control is often better than the alternative, her self-denial can be dangerous when something drives her to give in.

Willow and Tara run into Faith at the Bronze, and for a moment, it feels like a scene designed to set Tara at odds with Buffy, forcing Willow to choose. Faith really rips into Tara, and she takes a lot of pleasure in undermining Tara’s confidence. But when it comes to stepping into the Slayer role again, this time as Buffy, Faith is faced with the simplicity of human compassion. It confuses the hell out of her, and so when Willow gives her the idea to visit Riley, it gives her another way to escape the uncomfortable feelings.

Buffy, meanwhile, gets a really good look at how far the Watchers are willing to go to get their way. One supposes that Buffy’s defection wasn’t a big deal, because they always felt like Faith (and her successor) was their true responsibility. But what does it say that there would be people working for the Watchers who consider themselves expendable? Fighting demons is one thing, but this is a squad designed for something else entirely. There are shades of the Talamasca from the Anne Rice novels, but since this side of the Watchers is largely absent in future seasons, it’s a concept that isn’t realized.

Tara shows a depth to her character when she very carefully tells Willow what she “felt” about the Faith-in-Buffy situation. It would have been easy for Tara to dismiss those feelings and assume that Buffy was simply a lot worse a person than Willow believed. Instead, Tara understood what kind of person Willow would gravitate towards, and saw the inconsistencies. It speaks volumes about how important Willow is to Tara.

Much like the scene with Spike, Sarah does a damn good job of seducing Riley, while keeping true to Faith’s character. Once again, a less emaciated Sarah would have been more interesting to watch, but they play it up beautifully. The shot of Sarah crawling across the bed is particularly memorable! But this is Faith, of course, and so she prefers to play power games, rather than explore what love entails. Riley, on the other hand, has no intention of letting that happen.

Joss takes both relationships to a similar place, but with vastly opposite results. The use of magic as a metaphor for Willow and Tara’s first sexual experience together is very well done. Allyson actually makes her ecstasy look genuine and triumphant, as opposed to the look of terror on Faith’s face when she realizes that she’s in completely new territory. Willow and Tara open up to one another without reservation; Faith does the same, but it only throws her into confusion. It’s a great example of classic Joss interplay.

Amidst Willow and Tara finding out who they are together, Riley figuring out that he loves Buffy, and Faith realizing that pretending to be Buffy means dropping her defenses far more than she expected, Adam also comes into his own. He becomes the inspirational leader of a gang of vampires, but that’s only the beginning. Adam intends far more, and as the season draws to a close, eliminating the opposition is his primary goal.

Forrest, like nearly every other appearance since “The I in Team”, doesn’t give Buffy an inch, and thanks to that, Faith snaps right back into her usual persona. It’s easy, since Forrest doesn’t even try to see any other point of view than his own, and he actually gets more and more annoying as the season progresses.

Meanwhile, Buffy gets the drop on the cleaners (something else that doesn’t give them much credibility), and as expected, it’s not long before she’s running to get help from Giles. This is easily the best scene with Eliza as Buffy; she gets Sarah’s mannerisms and speech patterns down perfectly. It’s a little disappointing to Buffy (and the audience) that Giles doesn’t look into her eyes and recognize her, but Buffy’s spiel regarding Giles and his sex life was priceless. (Ever notice how only Joss bothered to mention Olivia?)

Things come to a head when Adam’s latest minions take over a church, threatening to kill everyone, high on overcoming their fears. Faith hears about the incident in the airport, and instead of boarding her plane, she decides that she’s Buffy, and so she has to do the right thing. Her sense of identity is completely shattered. Now, when she says “because it’s wrong”, she actually means it. Instead of taking over Buffy’s life and stealing her world, she’s allowed Buffy’s world to take over her.

Thanks to some courageous silliness on Giles’ part, it doesn’t take long for Buffy and Faith to come to blows, once Adam’s minions are taken out. Seeing her own body again sends Faith right over the edge. Everything she hates about herself, now that she’s had a means of expressing what she might really have wanted in life, comes into focus, and it’s not pretty. The fight is remarkably short, but in retrospect, it makes sense that Faith would run away once back in her own body. Faith is defeated in every sense of the world, and whatever strands of sanity remained are long gone. As would soon be clear on “Angel”, that self-loathing would translate into a deathwish; she has, finally, hit rock bottom.

Of course, the damage was already done. Buffy had to fight to take back her life, but Faith made a mess of it in less than a day. Worst of all is the fact that Riley slept with Faith, unaware that it wasn’t Buffy. Giles’ lack of recognition hurt in one respect, but it’s Riley that she really would have expected to come through. Then again, she needs to give him some slack, given what he’s been through lately.

Unfortunately, the experience reinforces some of the personality changes that Buffy had undergone since the third season. Buffy is one step further down a path of self-awareness, but for all that, she’s afraid to let her sexuality to the surface in any way that would resemble Faith’s aggressiveness. She’s still sexual, of course (thinking of “Where the Wild Things Are”), but she also begins to lose some of the joy in life.

Buffy’s search for a sense of purpose and identity would not be resolved in the fourth season. Instead, the end of the fourth season would transform her journey, placing the focus on what it means to be a Slayer and one of the Chosen. But in order to make sense of how that journey changes Buffy, especially in terms of Dawn’s arrival, Buffy needs to get a grip on who she is now that she’s becoming an adult. Having everything in her life taken away without warning, only to get it back, helps to give her that sense of who she wants to be when all is said and done.


Memorable Quotes

TARA: “I am, you know.”
WILLOW: “What?”
TARA: “Yours.”

WILLOW: “What’s ‘wetworks’?”
XANDER: “Scuba-type stuff.”
ANYA: “I thought it was murder?”
XANDER: “Well, yeah…but there could be underwater murder…with snorkels…”

ANYA: “We were gonna light a bunch and candles and have sex near them.”
FAITH: “Well, we certainly don’t want to cut into those seven minutes…”

SPIKE: “You know why I really hate you, Summers?”
FAITH: “’Cause I’m a stuck-up tightass with no sense of fun?”
SPIKE: “Well… yeah…that covers a lot of it…”
FAITH: “’Cause I could do anything I want, and instead I choose to pout and whine and feel the burden of Slayerness? I mean, I could be rich. I could be famous. I could have anything. Anyone. Even you, Spike. I could ride you at a gallop until your legs buckled and your eyes rolled up. I’ve got muscles you’ve never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you until you pop like dry champagne and you’d beg me to hurt you just a little bit more. And you know why I don’t? Because it’s wrong.”

BUFFY: “Giles, you just have to…stop inching! You were inching!”

BUFFY: “Ask me anything.”
GILES: “Who’s president?”
BUFFY: “We’re checking for Buffy, not a concussion…”

BUFFY: “Oh! When I had psychic power, I heard my mom think that you were like a stevedore during sex. Wh…do you want me to continue?”
GILES: “Actually, I beg you to stop.”
BUFFY: “What’s a stevedore?”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode provides a strong conclusion to the first half of the story, exploring several different aspects of self-identity in a well-executed script. Joss continues to improve his directorial style by delivering an exciting and funny episode with an equal helping of psychological trauma. Sarah and Eliza do near-perfect impressions of each other, which gives the “body switching” cliché more credibility.

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

Final Rating: 9/10

X-Files 5.7: "Emily"

Written by Vince Gilligan, John Shiban, and Frank Spotnitz
Directed by Kim Manners

In which Scully’s attempt to gain custody of Emily forces Mulder to reveal what he knows about the experiments that led to the child’s creation, while both search for a cure to save her…


Status Report

After a rare example of character exploration in “Christmas Carol”, the writers returned to the typical fare for mythology episodes in the second half. In a number of ways, this is a sequel to “Momento Mori”, in which many of the consequences of Scully’s abduction are given new and more psychologically damaging forms. It’s not enough that Scully can’t have children, thanks to the tests, but her genetic material is being used for more than just generating new clone workers for the conspiracy.

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

As outlined in the review for “Herrenvolk”, the conspiracy had a three-phase plan for the genetic alteration of the human race into an artificially evolved form. “Phase II” was the use of abducted men and women for the purposes of gathering genetic material, and then using extracted ova in the attempt to create a biological analogue to the nanotech that was developed during “Phase I” for the creation of “super soldiers”.

The point of this episode is to underscore the fact that embryos and fetuses were being engineered, implanted into human test subjects, and then experimented upon to determine if which alterations would generate the desired result. Finding the right genetic alteration was only part of the equation; working out how reproductive biology should be altered to “naturally” result in the desired genetic alterations was a different story.

Emily represents a point very close to the end of “Phase II”. She is, in the end, a failed test subject. In essence, Cassandra Spender would eventually be the test subject that gives the conspiracy the answer they need; “Phase II” then shifts focus to altering women’s biology to produce these “hybrids” (thus, Scully’s experiences in seasons 8 and 9). The conspiracy believes in later seasons that William is the culmination of their efforts; Emily is a precursor to that end, even if the writers were unaware of it at the time.

This overall theme of history repeating itself is closer to the concepts of “Never Again”. Scully’s tattoo in that episode is once again reflected. Scully sees herself as falling, once again, into a state of isolation and loneliness. For those keeping track, she is still keeping Mulder at a certain distance emotionally, even if he’s filling one of Scully’s traditional “authoritative father figure” roles. Scully doesn’t seek solace from Mulder; she sees herself as ultimately being alone in this ordeal. (Again, this is not unlike the situation that occurs, quite against Scully’s desire, in the later seasons.)

Mulder looks like he’s incredibly uncomfortable in this episode, but that’s exactly what one would expect of a man who has made Scully and her emotional stability a major personal priority. Mulder reacts much as he did in “Momento Mori”; pushing Scully when it’s necessary, but in the end, acting to what he perceives as being in her best interests. (Why else would he do that “Mr. Potato Head” thing?)

Now aware of the situation, Mulder has every reason to think that Scully is in danger. He also has more than enough information to know that Emily is part of the conspiracy’s experiments, though he cannot understand the full complexity of “Phase II” at this point (indeed, he never really would). He only knows that Emily is the product of experiments by the conspiracy using Scully’s extracted eggs. The answer must inevitably lie in the knowledge of what Emily was meant to be, and therefore, what efforts were devoted to make that happen.

That’s not what Scully is looking for, however. In a way, Scully is using Mulder in the same manner that he often uses her: a means of validating a personal agenda. She assumes that Mulder will back her completely, because of course, she’s not thinking clearly through much of the episode. Mulder, on the other hand, gets to play the role that Scully normally plays by bringing in information that might complicate Scully’s case but needs to be addressed. It places them at odds to certain extent, but if Mulder didn’t care so damn much, he wouldn’t bother.

Continuity issues aside (and the writers really mess up in this episode), Mulder’s explanation for Emily’s existence and Scully’s peculiar brand of motherhood is a real treat. Clearly, the court is correct in pointing out how crazy it sounds, and yet to many fans of the series, it was a bit redundant and obvious. It just goes to show how quickly the unusual and insane can begin to sound normal and logical.

To her credit (and to the credit of their relationship), Scully doesn’t get angry with Mulder over his selective disbursement of information. If it had been anyone else, would Scully have been so understanding? After all, what Mulder knows is incredibly personal. How else could Scully react to the fact that her medical and reproductive history is so freely available? Mulder is the one person who can understand her the most at this point, in terms of trust, so getting angry with him would be pointless.

One is left to assume that Melissa once again sent Scully to Emily’s side. There’s a lesson in play there, but it’s somewhat lost in the midst of so much rehashing of the mythology. Is it meant to personalize the stakes of the conspiracy’s Project even more for Scully? Or is it more psychological than that? Scully needs to have her eyes opened to a wider reality, and this experience demonstrates to her, once again, that there are forces in play beyond the conspiracy itself.

Emily’s medical condition is more than just a means of attaching a deadline to Mulder’s frantic search for clues to the scope of the reproductive experiments. It’s also a way to communicate to the audience the nature of the genetic alterations themselves. The cyst on the back of the neck is clearly the same kind of organ that resides in the same location within the clones and the “hunters”, who have the more perfected biology. Dr. Calderon’s treatments were designed, it seems, to regulate and study, under controlled conditions, the growth of the biological nanotech circulatory system in combination with normal human tissue.

It’s such an obvious connection to make that it seems foolish that Mulder would fail to warn the medical staff until the absolute last moment. But it does give the writers a way to tie the effects of the retrovirus from “The Erlenmeyer Flask” onward to this episode, unifying that aspect of the mythology. (Similarly, this identical nature makes it necessary to establish two distinct and opposing forces with identical biology, thanks to “Colony” and “Endgame”.)

One aspect of the episode that doesn’t quite gel is the struggle for authority over Emily’s care. Surely the situation is plain enough that Scully’s participation cannot be determined as the prevailing factor in Emily’s chances of survival. It seems designed to show how far Scully will go in the hopes of preserving something that the conspiracy has taken away from her, no matter how impossible the task. But it doesn’t come across very well, and it doesn’t mesh with the mythology-heavy nature of the story, either.

The biological nanotech circulatory system is tied directly into the nervous system. This makes sense if that genetically engineered system is designed to allow a person to change appearance and heal quickly. The organ attached to the brain stem would make many of the “advanced” functions of the nanotech autonomic, while leaving higher-order functions to connections with the cortex. Of course, that kind of adaptive biology is not capable with normal human tissue; the experiment was apparently geared towards introducing the genetic roadmap for creating the nanotech system in the hopes that natural infant development would force the human biology to adapt.

So what is the nature of the treatment itself? One can assume that the conspiracy is aware of the tests, under the impression that the goal is still creating the better soldier to defeat the future invasion of Purity. The fact that Purity is, in fact, a future iteration of the same retroviral nanotech (a carrier for a malevolent non-corporeal intelligence) is unknown to the conspiracy itself, but critical to understanding the plot. Emily is a failure in certain terms, but in essence, the nanotech itself is invasive. Calderon’s treatment could very well be a prototype version of the Syndicate’s vaccine. The effect seems to bear that out: while she’s on the treatment, the nanotech’s presence is contained. As would soon become obvious, the transition to the Purity form involves a much more difficult challenge, the solution of which is essentially the creation of Purity itself. (Scully’s theme works for Cancer Man’s doomed crusade, too!)

There’s a recurring theme of using the elderly as test subjects themselves. They were used to test the effects of a “docile” form of Purity in “Terma”, where those infected apparently could never be cured. In this case, the elderly are used as incubators for the genetically engineered fetuses. This brings up an interesting point, of course: how is the conspiracy dealing with the problem of infection by the “mother”, when the child must inevitably be passing on some of the retrovirus?

One aspect of the plot that makes no sense at all is Kresge’s presence at the nursing home. Why would he show up there? Sure, he was probably looking for Calderon, but if so, why react to Mulder as if he were a criminal? Wouldn’t Scully be able to describe Calderon and mention that Mulder was also looking for him? It seems a bit too convenient, designed to ensure that Kresge can mistakenly shoot “Calderon” and be infected.

For that matter, given how Mulder remembers so much else about the “alien” biology, it’s a bit hard to believe that he would simply ignore the fact that Kresge walks right out of the building after he watches the cop drill “Calderon” and release the retrovirus! It’s the kind of scene that makes no sense at all and actually casts a bad light on the entire episode.

In the end, of course, Scully is left with the fact that Emily cannot be saved, and that the conspiracy has once again stolen something from her that it had no right to take. Worse, it is now beyond clear that the conspiracy will happily create a child that will painfully suffer to achieve its own ends. It sends a message about the difference between heroes and villains. The Syndicate and their associates are focused on their own survival and selfish interests, and thus their efforts bring humanity to an untimely end. Mulder and Scully, though sometimes selfish, sacrifice nearly everything, often with no conception that they would become the parents of humanity’s heirs.

This episode closes by harkening back to the religious metaphor of the Holy Mother. The funeral scene is incredibly well done, especially in the sense that most of the characters don’t know what to do. Ma Scully seems to be resigned with the fact that her family’s world is never going to be the same, while Bill looks like he’s never going to invite Scully to visit ever again. It’s entirely appropriate that Mulder is the one to remain.

Duchovny’s performance in the final scene is nearly perfect. Who wouldn’t react in that exact same way to the unending grief of one’s closest friend? Scully retrieves her golden cross with a sense of wonder, and Anderson’s expression is that of one tested by God, seeking understanding and the comfort of faith. In fact, the scene is so strong in terms of the subtext and depth of characterization that the viewer can’t help but damn the fact that the episode that follows will simply pretend it never happened.

After such a strong first half, focusing on Scully to near-exclusion of all else, the switch to a focus on the mythology is a bit disappointing. It’s also makes it hard to hold onto some of the plot elements that were so important to the first half. Here Kresge feels like an intrusion instead of a vital part of the tale, and Scully’s connection to Emily isn’t quite so mystical in its quality. In a way, it’s Mulder’s presence that steals away some of what made the story unique. Mulder doesn’t uncover anything new, and if the episode had remained focused on Scully, it would have made the entire arc more intimate.

As it stands, however, it leaves Scully with a number of things to think about. Scully found it hard to resist a reversion to skepticism after Melissa’s murder; her own restoration was also a restoration of faith. Emily’s death, and the events that brought her to her “daughter” at the end, were outside of her faith and yet firmly a part of something inherently spiritual. This episode marks another step on Scully’s journey; even if she continues to resist the process, it’s clear that she can no longer truly deny that her perception is changing.


Memorable Quotes

MULDER: “Have you ever seen Mr. Potato Head? He looks like this!”

SCULLY: “I can protect her, too.”
MULDER: “Yeah…but who’s going to protect you?”

MULDER: “Well, if you can show me a legal precedent, I’d like to see it…”

FROHIKE: “Any fetching young mothers there?”
MULDER: “I think you might have a shot here, Frohike.”

SCULLY: “Who are the men who would create a life whose only hope is to die?”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was not as strong as the previous installment, largely due to the shift from in-depth character exploration to a rehashing of earlier elements of the mythology. Emily is a good plot device in terms of personalizing the conspiracy’s depredations just a bit more, but at times, it seems like the writers are victimizing Scully a bit more than necessary. Unlike the later mythology episodes, however, this one manages to avoid any unnecessary new elements.

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

Final Rating: 7/10

Dead Zone 4.4: "Still Life"

Written by Juan Carlos Coto
Directed by Mike Rohl

In which Johnny receives a painting from a celebrated artist, and has a vision that the artist’s recently missing daughter is about to die, leading to revelations about the artist’s methods…


The format of this series is such that no matter how often I guess the outcome, the process of watching Johnny get to the conclusion is usually compelling enough to keep it from becoming predictable. This is the second episode in a row where I felt like it was a little too easy to see where the story was going. The difference between “Double Vision” and this episode was the supporting cast. Johnny’s distaff twin was incredibly hot and full of personality. Even the beautiful people in this episode were somewhat boring.

There were moments when the writers were trying too hard to make us care about the whole “art” motif. Bruce goes on and on about this artist as though he’s the cream of the crop, which is never the best of ideas when the prop department can only come up with mediocre paintings that aren’t all that impressive. Then again, I openly admit that paintings are not my favorite form of art, so an episode devoted to the world of a famous artist is probably not going to rock my world.

Patrick Bauchau does a nice enough job as Andrew Lyne, but I didn’t really feel much in the way of chemistry between the supporting cast members. The only one that seemed to communicate much, beyond the simple demands of the story, was Nora. As a result, it took less than half the episode to figure out that she was the killer, and once it was clear that Lyne’s subjects were not his real daughters, Nora’s motivations were equally clear.

Chloe is meant to be sympathetic, but it’s hard to get a grasp on her character. Her first introduction is a bit unsettling; was I the only one thinking that she was playing at seduction with that playful smile? Sure, it makes sense with the story in retrospect, and it probably set me thinking in the right direction, but it also suggested some creepy father/daughter interaction.

Speaking of, what was the point of having Lyne and his agent living a decadent lifestyle with those “Eyes Wide Shut”-lite parties? Some attempt at making it look like Lyne wasn’t the relatively benign man that he seemed to be? This is another area where I had some issues with Bruce and his characterization. He made the parties sound a lot more extensive and disturbing. Are a couple of lesbian kisses and sexually charged looks supposed to indicate a lot more behind closed doors? That’s the assumption, but like the art aspect, Bruce’s descriptions are more impressive than the reality. (Yeah, it’s basic cable, but those first season scenes with Dana were a lot more provocative than this!)

I did enjoy some aspects of the story, but the writing felt more like someone’s first shot at telling a “Dead Zone” story. Looking at the writer’s credits, I’m wondering if he’s a new addition or if this is a spec script. Maybe it was just the subject. Whatever the case, this didn’t grab my attention like the typical “Dead Zone” episode usually does.

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

Final Rating: 6/10

4400 2.6: "As Fate Would Have It"

Written by Craig Sweeney
Directed by Nick Gomez

In which Maia has a vision in which Jordan’s life is threatened, Kyle’s blackouts culminate in a deadly manner, and Diana is forced to choose between loyalty to Maia and the NTAC…


I’ve had some frustrations with this series, especially when certain episodes take an interesting concept and find a way to make it utterly predictable. A couple of the episodes earlier in the season fell into that category, but thankfully, this episode breaks the mold a bit. While it’s easy enough to figure out where the story is going, the characterization is strong enough to keep things engaging.

One thing I really like is the “shades of grey” motif running through the entire concept. Isabelle is one freaky little kid. Was her vision a lie, or did she only tell Jordan what he needed to know, so that his “death” could become the impetus for his change for the better? Or was it all just a lie, Isabelle’s way of eliminating a threat by gaining Jordan’s confidence and knowingly plotting his demise?

Whatever the case, I love the religious imagery throughout the episode. Jordan fits rather well into an “Antichrist” role at this point, right down to the apparent assassination and foreshadowed resurrection. Is the role of the 4400 to be the engine of change that brings about human awareness through acts of equal good and evil? Is Jordan Collier (note the initials!) supposed to create a movement that, in the end, will force humanity to react with something more genuine?

Sean’s role is interesting because he was supposed to be Jordan’s conscience, but he’s being tempted by the same trappings of power and control, if the end of the episode is to be believed. That would be too bad, because Liv, played by Lindy Booth, is incredibly attractive and could be one hell of a good influence on him. Then again, this escalates the tension between Tom and Sean, setting them on opposite sides even as they appear to be finding common ground.

Am I the only one happy about the fact that Lily and Richard are finally done with the Incredibly Redundant Road Trip from Hell? Things are so much more interesting now that Isabelle is in a central location, where she can become a personal concern for her parents and the goals they have in life. Heidi might have had a condition independent of Isabelle, though, so it’s still possible that Isabelle and her true nature are still misunderstood.

Going back to the “predictability” thing…it was still easy enough to see where things were going with Kyle and Jordan, but the difference is that it carries the story forward. The two previous episodes didn’t do that; the main plots were incredibly predictable, and therefore didn’t meet the promise of the premise.

I will say, though, that I hope that this is all going somewhere. The writers and producers have openly admitted that they like to keep their options open, and so there’s only a general concept of where the story is going. There’s a lot that deserves explanation, and this episode is filled with examples. It’s one thing to have so many “shades of grey” to explore, but given the fact that there’s only an assurance of several more episodes, I hope the pacing picks up a bit. This isn’t “Lost”, where the producers knew rather quickly that the story could take its time.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Angel 1.15: "The Prodigal"

Written by Tim Minear
Directed by Bruce Seth Green

In which Angel discovers that Kate’s father is involved in an illegal business run by demons, and in the process of trying to help, his own “daddy issues” from his human past are laid bare…


Status Report

After a disaster of an “event episode” and a mediocre return to a more character-based approach, the writers returned to what might be considered one of the original plot threads of the first season: the evolution of Kate’s relationship with Angel. Up to this point, of course, it looked like Angel and Kate were headed for a tentative love connection. Kate’s discovery of Angel’s true nature got in the way of all that, but from there, the path forward was less obvious.

The previous episode focused on a message regarding fathers and the effect they can have on their children. Wesley was the kind of young man who could never measure up to the lofty expectations of his father, and indeed, there were more than a few hints of psychological abuse. Wesley is still in the process of dealing with the fact that finding his own place in the world means ignoring his father’s wishes.

As it turns out, Angel has more than a little in common with Wesley, which could and perhaps should have been used to give their partnership additional resonance. Angel’s father terrorized him in a similar yet oddly opposite fashion: he had expectations, but assumed that Angel could never meet them, to the point that failure became the expectation. As a result, Angel never had a sense of self-worth or accomplishment, something that fed into his demonic side when he became Angelus.

Kate also has “daddy issues”. Her father felt that an emotional connection between father and daughter would represent weakness. Much of the reason behind that damaging psychology was outlined in “Sense and Sensitivity”. But Kate continues to strive for her father’s acceptance, even to the point of extremes. The underlying message of the episode is that such fathers maintain power over their children long after they are dead and gone.

In “Somnambulist”, Kate discovered that there’s demonic activity in the world. Her initial reaction was very professional, and while she seemed stunned, she also seemed ready to deal with the new reality. Time, it appears, has allowed doubt to creep in. Now she’s not dealing with it so much as trying to return to that sense of blissful ignorance. Angel’s not sure how to deal with that, but he’s been around enough to know that Kate could get herself killed if she keeps putting reality at arms’ length.

Of course, earlier in the season, Kate might have entertained some interest in Angel. He was already a part of her world. Even if she can turn a blind eye to the demons all around her, she can’t dismiss the fact that Angel isn’t just a dark and brooding private investigator. His nature is all too real for her, and she’s terrified to allow him to remain so far within her defenses.

With so much emphasis on Angel’s past and Kate’s present, there’s not much else for the rest of the cast to do. Wesley plays a critical role to keep the plot moving forward, but Cordy is more or less window-dressing. In some respects, this keeps the episode from hitting all cylinders, since some of the later seasons meshed a larger ensemble cast in far better fashion. But the scenes that do include Cordy feel contrived as it is, so perhaps more would have been equally painful.

One very interesting discussion between Kate and Angel picks up on one of the more intriguing questions regarding the Buffyverse. Initially, all demons were soulless and evil creatures, the original denizens of the Earth before the Slayer drove them out. But since that point, coming into “Angel”, there were hints of demons with a more neutral, even non-aggressive way of life. This would continue to be explored in the future, but in this case, it becomes a benchmark for Kate’s psychological state. Angel tries to get her to understand that not every demon is evil; Kate, however, needs to see things in black and white at this point.

Angel’s decision to meddle when it comes to Trevor Lockley’s activities, however justified by the circumstances, is something that comes back to haunt him. He does it, it seems, out of consideration for Kate’s feelings. It might have been better if he had given her some information that would let her verify his discovery independently. By going behind her back, it gives Kate reason to think Angel can’t be trusted, which is not his intention.

It’s also hard to imagine how Trevor would miss the rather obvious fact that his associates are conducting illegal activities. Does he really believe that something a little illegal is any better for a former law enforcement officer than something completely illegal? Trevor’s motivations are hard to pin down, and they seem designed simply to ensure that his life will be forfeit in the worst possible scenario for Angel and Kate.

Kate’s peace gesture becomes the impetus for Angel’s attempt to protect Trevor from himself, all in the name of trying to protect Kate from being hurt. Of course, when the time comes, Trevor’s choices deliver consequences before Angel can do anything but watch it happen. He seems to forget, in the interests of taking revenge, that he called Kate and tried to get her to warn her father. In the end, however, the whole situation is designed to make it look like Angel stood by and watched her father be murdered.

That’s not at all consistent with the fact that Kate armed herself with very specific information in “Somnambulist”; she would know that Angel has to be invited in, regardless of the circumstances. So Kate’s anger towards Angel is really a way of transferring her own sense of blame onto Angel’s shoulders. Kate blames herself, on some level, because she had been trying to ignore the reality of demons. Angel is the one that opened her eyes to that, and so all that self-loathing is given direction.

This does, however, give Kate a direction that isn’t contrary to the expectations of the fans, who were still hoping for an Angel/Buffy reconciliation. That would be crushed to pieces soon enough, but in the meantime, the audience got a good look at what might have been, had the Slayer been less in love with the vampire with a soul. Kate makes a nice enough Slayer stand-in, despite the inexperience, and that parting shot to Angel is just vicious.

The theme of the episode, however, is one of tragedy. Angel and Kate are both left without closure, though of course, Angel’s situation is far more damaging in the long run. Kate wasn’t directly responsible for her father’s death, but Angelus definitely murdered his entire family with a smile and a few witty remarks. Angelus thought he was defeating his father, but as Darla points out, he was delivering final victory to Liam’s da without a second thought.

This brings up an intriguing side to the whole “vampire” concept in the Buffyverse. According to the Watchers, vampires utterly replace the human with a demonic personality, thus eliminating the human entirely. The mechanism of Angel’s curse made that unlikely, and as time marched on, more details emerged. In this episode, Darla puts into words what the totality of the Buffyverse continuity clearly indicates: the demon within a vampire is essentially an invading parasitic entity that comes in, locks onto a person’s psychological obsessions, and heightens them to a massively damaging and violent degree.

In terms of Angelus, it’s rather complicated. This episode establishes that at least part of Angelus and his deviousness originated with the heightened obsession over living up (or down) to the expectations of Liam’s father. Thus Angelus has an appetite for elaborate destruction, even to the point of self-destructive madness, as per the second season of “Buffy”. Angelus prefers to torture his victims psychologically, and this episode suggests that his methodology is based in the complicated and bitter mental anguish of Angel’s youth.

This blurs the fine line between the human and demon within a vampire. Most vampires are ruled completely by the demonic persona; indeed, they become the cannon fodder of nearly every “Buffy” teaser sequence. But there seems to be a significant population within the vampire horde that operates on a more substantial level. Spike is ruled by obsessive love (thanks to mommy issues), Angelus is ruled by a need to display the full depth of his cleverness, Drusilla is ruled by her visions and accentuated madness, and so on. The real question is Darla and her motivations, which are explored in more detail later in the series.

Speaking of Darla, it’s no mistake that the audience was reminded of her role in Angel’s past. By this point, the writers were beginning to see where the series should be going, at least in terms of the second season. One could even assume that the first season itself was seen as something of a loss, given all the outside pressures; the focus was on establishing new characters, clarifying the situation with Kate and later Wolfram and Hart, and then getting the series to the point where a story arc could be firmly established for the second season. Showing Darla in all her glory (and incredibly tight period attire) was a good first step, though hearing David’s version of an Irish accent is hardly a treat.

Thus this episode marks a turning point for the first season. The rest of the season would have serious highs and lows, and the apparent theme of the series would be lost in the shuffle. It’s not so much that the effort was no longer being made to make the first season meaningful, but when one looks back on the series as a whole, the first season serves as an extending opening chapter to a much more interesting tale to follow.

“The Prodigal” is one of the season’s better episodes, because it defies expectation by setting Angel and Kate against one another. At this point, there was still an attempt to make Kate and the more darkly rendered “real world” concept for the series work. But the seeds for the more epic, mythological aspect of the series had already been established in “I Will Remember You”. Kate never fit into that side of the story, and so while this episode sends Kate in an interesting and more complex direction, it was closer to a holding action than a strong step forward.


Memorable Quotes

ANGEL: “Everyone gets corrupted…but I find some forms of corruption are more pleasant…”

KATE: “Well, I guess I can forget about reading him his rights…”

ANGEL: “I don’t know…ever since she ran me through with a 2x4, things have been different.”

ANGEL: “Disappointment? A more dutiful son you couldn’t have asked for. My whole life, you’ve told in word, in glance, what it is you require of me. And I’ve lived down to your every expectation, now haven’t I?”
DA: “That’s madness!”
ANGEL: “No…the madness is that I couldn’t fail enough for you. But we’ll fix that now, won’t we?”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is one of the better installments of the first season, focusing almost entirely upon Angel’s relationship with Kate. It’s something of a cliché for characters to have issues with a father figure, but in this case, it places characters into a logical narrative resonance. Cordy’s scenes are a bit pointless, but the shock of an unexpected death and its consequences more than made up for that lack.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Birthday Thoughts

I know I haven't been posting much of late, but a lot has been happening and I've been a little distracted...

The Company gave us Friday the 1st and Monday the 4th off as paid holiday, so I had a four day weekend! The first two days were great...I took the family out for breakfast, we went shopping, etc. Sunday and Monday weren't so great. We didn't get much sleep. Two doors down (past the usually more annoying neighbors that I've complained about) lives a couple with a son who recently returned from 18 months in Iraq. Well, the parents went away, so the young man decided to invite dozens of his military buddies, high school reject friends, and loud annoying young women to get drunk all hours of the night. These nitwits proceeded to set off fireworks on both nights, and as they would get more and more drunk, they would start setting them off in the middle of road (traffic be damned!) and in front of other peoples' houses.

Now, I didn't even blink when the guy had his "coming home" party. The drinking and carousing wasn't a big deal, either; I give the guy his due slack. But the fireworks were basically "community terrorism". These idiots were terroizing the small children and families on the block, and in some cases, the fireworks exploded on peoples' porches and in their yards. The cops were called on them several times, and I personally went over and got in one moron's face to get the message across, to no avail.

Message to recent veterans of the Iraq/Afghan theatres: Don't fight against terrorism and then bomb your own frellin' town to show how patriotic you are!

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OK, so, on top of that, our Ford Freestar has been having issues, despite being less than 18 months old. One of the automatic sliding doors doesn't stay closed, which is bad for safety with the kids. Nor does the DVD player that works less than 50% of the time, despite 4-5 repairs in the past year, provide much value. We dropped the car off on Thursday, and when we picked it up...the door still wouldn't close. All day Friday, we waited to pick it up, and it wasn't ready until 5PM. Sure enough, on Saturday, the damn door wouldn't close again. By Tuesday, the replacement DVD player wasn't available like they said it would be. Best part? The several calls from Ford Service asking about our opinion of their 5-star quality response. I let my wife handle that one...I'll take care of driving the POS Freestar into the showroom through the plate glass window...

****

But, there's better (or less stressful) news. My promotion was effective 01 Jul, so now I'm officially getting paid more. I celebrated by going to work Tuesday while my wife dropped the kids off with my parents and sister (they are there until Saturday), and I did very little while I was there. It wasn't slacking off...nearly the entire Company is on vacation this week, so there's not much to be accomplished!As it happens, my wife had to go to a workshop for her school this week in Colorado Springs. So she's there until Friday evening (or later, given the weather here and the whole London thing). Hence the kids being away! So she left very early yesterday morning, and I've been home alone since. Yep, we were apart for my birthday, her birthday, and our 9th anniversary. Figures!

That's OK, though, because I decided that I would take a half day yesterday, and then take the rest of the week off. That's right. I've been hanging out without the family for a few days! I ordered pizza, went shopping at Borders, Best Buy, and Home Depot (Happy Birthday to me!), and I've watched many DVDs and played lots of video games ("Buffy" and "Ratchet & Clank", for those who want to know). Thanks to the new roof, we're not going away for vacation this year, so this is my chance to "get away from it all"! And I even took the time to shop properly for my wife's birthday and the anniversary. (And no, I didn't call for any "escorts" to engage in stimulating conversation while the family is gone and the house is so quiet...)

Tomorrow, provided the flight isn't delayed too much, Cris wants to go see "War of the Worlds", and then we're going to go pick up the kids on Saturday. Hopefully, we won't have much else to do, and I can ride out the weekend with relative ease. That will be...oh, 1.5 days of work in a 10 day span...not bad! And thanks to the promotion, I still have 7 days of vacation left and 2 personal days. Plenty of chances to take mental health days!

I want to thank everyone who sent their birthday wishes through BtS and LJ. I'm impressed that some people remembered that it's also our anniversary!

****

So...I'm hoping that I get better with the reviews and writing this summer. I've been otherwise distracted with the goings on at work and home, but things ought to level out soon. To be honest, I haven't been inspired to write much, so it's slow going. I've wanted to finish a couple other things first, like updating my website a bit more and catching up on some other projects here at home. I will get to it again, I'm sure, but it's still very much a work in progress, coming in fits and starts. Honestly, if it wasn't so close to being done and constantly running around in the back of my head, I'd have given up on it by now. But I want closure on this 5 year project already!

Speaking of the website updates...

I've been considering something interesting for a long while. I don't want to say anything yet, but if I decide to go forward with it, it will be very apparent within the next 10 days. The thought has come out of a few comments from naysayers who point out that a lot of my efforts have been rooted in finished series. What, if anything, am I doing to move into the future? That, and I've been thinking about how I approach the reviews as a whole. The process and scope have to evolve if I want to keep myself and others interested, and that doesn't necessarily mean being more in-depth.

We'll see where that line of thought takes me. I have to be practical, after all. Three series of in-depth commentary ("24", "Alias", and "Lost") is enough for now. In the future, I may not have time for adding more in-depth reviews for new series of interest. So do I stop when those shows are done? What if, as I suspect, I begin having less time for the reviews as a whole? Do I fade away gracefully, or do I consider that my reviews have never been more popular or widely read? All of this is bringing me towards a decision that could initially be time-consuming, but could also make things a little easier in the long run.

****

Enough for now...I hear Playstation and an episode of "The Inside" calling my name!

Firefly 1.13: "Heart of Gold"

Written by Brett Matthews
Directed by Tom Wright

In which an old friend of Inara’s calls for help when a rich man starts tossing out threats, and when Mal and the crew answer the call, things get complicated between Mal and Inara…


Status Report

Like the two previous episodes, it’s interesting to look at how the final edit compares to the shooting script. Unlike the aired episodes, the three unaired episodes never received a post-viewing transcription by fans; instead, the fans were later treated to the somewhat final versions of the scripts used to produce the episodes. It was only after the DVDs were released that the fans got to see the final cut of each episode.

The cuts are somewhat more noticeable in this episode, largely because the final version lacks a certain cohesion. Some of the small moments, the ones that are supposed to touch on the depth of the previous episodes, are missing completely. The result is an episode that doesn’t come together nearly as well as episodes like “Out of Gas” or “War Stories”.

As many others have noted since the shooting script was released, the episode is almost entirely designed to use the tension between Mal and Inara against them. This is typical Joss: bring characters closer together and then rip their hearts out (sometimes literally). In this instance, the effect would have been rather interesting to see, considering that much of the early part of the season was devoted to constructing Mal as a man dependent on a handful of civilizing influences. Paramount among them was Inara and her ability to undermine his dislike of “complications”.

The tension between Mal and Inara has never been hidden from the audience. Their interplay has always been one of unspoken (and sometimes unacknowledged) approach to something deeper. Mal sees Inara as someone who can make him believe in love again, and because of that idealistic inner picture of her, he despises the thought of others using her as an object, no matter how much it might help him in the end. Inara, on the other hand, has never revealed her true agenda.

Inara is a character of contradictions. She puts forward a front of absolute respectability. She sided with the Alliance, and she looks down on the kind of life that Mal has decided to lead. But this episode reveals something very important about Inara. Her reasons for leaving the temple on Sihnon are unknown, but she gave up the chance to take on a highly prized and respected position among Companions to pursue her current lifestyle. She didn’t break from the Guild, but that could have been a matter of practicality. So what was she looking for when she left House Madrassa? A life less complicated?

There’s plenty of opportunity for story within those boundaries, and by setting them in a convenient love triangle with Nandi, the writers seem to suggest that the situation is going to get more than a little strained. Indeed, it does, but the plot itself gets in the way of the best moments. Add to that an oddly inconsistent performance by Melinda Clarke, and the episode stumbles more often than it succeeds.

Part of the problem is the premise itself. Burgess never comes across as a credible or memorable villain. He’s simple a means to an end, for all that violence. A credible threat needs to be applied to the Heart of Gold, or the standoff there won’t make sense. And apparently, in the minds of the writing staff, the standoff was necessary to throw Mal and Inara in close quarters with Nandi and her girls.

It’s hard not to think that there could have been a better way to accomplish that goal. The centerpiece of Burgess’ fighting force is a hovercraft that looks like it was put together from one of those cheesy ads in the back of “Popular Science”. The whole episode looks like it’s been filmed in someone backyard after a couple days of preparation and a whole lot of tinfoil. This is easily the worst looking episode of the series, and while the whole tone is deliberately rustic (complete with dialogue to make sense of it), it just doesn’t work as well as it does on paper.

It didn’t have to be that way. One read of the shooting script reveals a story that could have had a lot more resonance for the characters. The problem is that the script leaves more than enough to the fans’ imagination. The result is an episode that looks less impressive than one would expect. The women aren’t quite so beautiful, the threat of Burgess isn’t so overwhelming, and some of the guest performances are lacking the gravitas of previous episodes. One gets the unfortunate feeling that this was an episode forced to live on a budget because of demands from the network.

As usual, it’s the regulars that shine. The first good scene of the episode is between Mal and Inara, as one would expect. The two dance around each other like they were born to it. Just as Inara lets Mal get away with calling her a whore far too often, Inara takes equal delight in constantly calling Mal a petty crook. It’s a nice tie-in to their argument in “Trash” as well, but there’s a certain comfortable nature to the verbal sparring. Each of them sees something better in the other, and they constantly remind each other of that fact.

What’s interesting is that Inara displays the same level of weary affection for the entire crew when talking with Nandi. She doesn’t talk about them as if they were associates; she talks as if they were family. She doesn’t even give Mal an attitude for listening in, as if it were completely normal. This is clearly different than the situation earlier in the season, where Inara insisted on her privacy.

At the same time, she’s aware of the fact, perhaps belatedly, that she has crossed over a line. Mal is willing to take on a rather dangerous job with no payment on her behalf, and she didn’t even have to ask. The detachment that she had been trying to maintain has eroded on both sides. Inara’s reaction is not necessarily hard to predict. As hinted at in earlier episodes, long-term relationships for Companions are somewhat frowned upon, and so she tries very hard to maintain the detachment necessary to justify her continued presence on Serenity.

The problem is that Mal has chosen to trust a very select few, and as such, they have become as important to his mental health as Serenity. They are, in many respects, his extended family. That’s why Jayne’s betrayal hit him so hard, and why he tolerates those who might otherwise annoy him to no end. When Inara pulls away, she slips out of the role that Mal has granted her. He wants her to be the mother figure for the crew, just as he is the father figure, and that has implications that he’s still trying to work out.

When the crew is given the option to stay on Serenity, the staging of the scene is a little awkward. This is a crew that has gone through a lot together, so why does Zoe talk to them as if there’s still some doubt as to loyalties? A lot of scenes appear to be out of synch with the overall continuity, which is hard to understand. In many respects, it’s a question of direction and tone, but sometimes the scenes themselves are written as if the characters have only known each other for weeks.

When the crew enters the Heart of Gold, there’s precious little time taken to introducing the audience to anyone or giving them a good look at their surroundings. The story rushes right past that part, and it steals something away from the suspension of disbelief. Even the scene between Mal, Inara, and Nandi is somewhat rushed and lacking in true depth. Part of the problem, as already mentioned, is Melinda Clarke. She’s good with the more seductive or active scenes, but the smaller moments don’t reveal much chemistry, especially between Nandi and Inara. Since those scenes are critical to the story, it leaves the audience wanting.

That scene does, however, leave Nandi with the impression that Mal wants Inara and bristles at the fact that Inara puts him at arm’s length. But it’s a little hard to imagine that Nandi would miss the rather obvious fact that Mal’s comment about the “businesslike relationship” cuts Inara just as deeply. It puts to question Nandi’s later claim that she was unaware of Inara’s feelings.

One thing that is far better in the script than the final product is the interaction between the crew and the whores. Nandi gets to be a lot more bemused with Jayne than the audience gets to see, for instance. Jayne’s antics are more or less translated from page to screen with minimal cuts, which is odd, since Jayne’s material is far more crude than the character development that was removed.

Kaylee’s comments about the “boy-whores” seems to say that she and Simon aren’t even close to being together. Granted, they would never really get together during the course of the series, but in the previous episode, Simon and Tracey were both vying for Kaylee’s affections (in a certain sense). In the next episode, Simon and Kaylee are very friendly with each other. It’s another example of how the writing didn’t quite mesh. Then again, it gives Kaylee and Wash a chance to interact, which is a real treat.

Another aspect that was cut down to the bare minimum is the concept of the religious prostitutes, Emma and Lucy. There are a number of scenes in the shooting script that make it a legitimate subplot, but they were never realized in the final version. That’s unfortunate, because this is a chance to show how Book has changed since joining the crew. In “Serenity”, Book wasn’t sure how to deal with Inara and her profession; it made him very uncomfortable. While he’s still wary with Emma and Lucy, he’s not nearly so conflicted. That’s character development, and it’s too bad it never really came together.

In the script, there’s an entire scene between Mal and Inara where they engage in some mutually rewarding banter, reminding the audience that they so have a relationship of sorts…and it was, of course, cut from the final version. Additionally, the “puppet show” was the story of Earth-That-Was, which is all but absent from the final cut. The verbal jousting between Mal and Burgess is supposed to give the audience the impression that Burgess sees his little playground as doing the right thing by God. But the script also drives home the fact that Belinda, his wife, is guiding his hand.

One scene that works very well is Mal’s attempt to convince Nandi that leaving is the right move. Up to that point, Nandi is just a friend of Inara’s. But when Nandi refuses to leave, Mal identifies with that kind of spirit. It’s very similar to the kind of spirit that the Independents had to have shown, and that Mal continues to hang onto.

But then it becomes another scene where Mal calls on the crew to join in or opt out, and people start acting inconsistent. Wash acts as he should, with this episode coming after “War Stories”, but Book’s comments just seem strange for someone who’s been with the crew and Mal for so long. In fact, “War Stories” established Book as a man with experience with firearms and the use thereof; why the sudden focus on his abilities as a “carpenter”? Is it simply to reinforce his role as a Shepherd?

One of the important scenes is between Zoe and Wash. It’s revealed that Zoe has been nagging Wash about having children for quite some time, and Wash has been a bit of a pragmatist on the subject. Considering what he went through in “War Stories”, Wash has a very good set of reasons against becoming a parent. Perhaps more disturbing is the fact that Wash and Zoe are happy and probably more stable than they have ever been. Joss never lets that last very long, and it usually ends in someone dying. Had the series continued, would Zoe or Wash been the first loss for the crew?

When Mal and Nandi discuss their preparations, it feels like nothing less than foreplay. Nandi seems to cover all the bases with Mal first (there’s a nice show of how Mal isn’t bothered by questions of homosexuality, in a particularly obvious moment), and it’s very clear that Nandi is wondering if he’s been holding out for her. But before that can happen, she needs to understand where Mal stands with Inara. She sees how similar Mal and Inara are to one another, and her training as a Companion tells her what that ought to lead to: love or the equal but opposite hatred. With all that training and observational skill, how could she miss the fact that Inara loves Mal as much as he loves her?

But just as important is the fact that Nandi and Inara are not very different. Nandi eventually found the Companion way too restricting, and she left to find a place where she could apply similar principles in a more balanced and self-empowering. Nandi doesn’t see prostitution as degrading, obviously; she seems to see it as a legitimate means of exerting feminine power over a man. How far along the same path has Inara gone, and is her resistance towards a relationship with Mal a part of a more general resistance to break away from her comfort zone?

Nandi’s not a total fool. She knows, on some level, that she’s a temporary replacement in Mal’s eyes. Her comment about not being Inara seems more designed for the audience than for Mal. That said, there’s a good reason for it. She doesn’t want Mal to hold back, because he needs to not hold back. It needs to be a matter of her giving comfort and solace to him, and him giving her a chance to release some tension and forget about what’s coming, if only for a little while.

This is in direct contrast with Burgess and his view of prostitutes and women in general. His scene with Chari is not a mutual moment of giving. It’s outright humiliation and exploitation. It says a lot about Burgess, but it also says a lot about the writers. A lot of people would see any level of prostitution as being a matter of exploitation on any level. The writers seem to be drawing a distinction, perhaps to reinforce the fact that Inara’s role as a post-modern courtesan is not the same as the everyday streetwalker.

Inevitably, Mal’s decision to sleep with Nandi cuts Inara to the core. It’s not like this is someone from Mal’s world; Nandi is, in essence, only a stone’s throw away from where Inara is standing, psychologically. Inara knows that it could and should have been her, given who Mal ultimately chose. For some odd reason, it takes Inara’s reaction for Nandi to make a simple observation that the entire audience made during the pilot!

The assault on the Heart of Gold is fairly standard, and some of the elements are remarkably poor. The hovercraft is pathetic on all levels, as is the use of a laser; the series would have been better without either. It’s not clear how Burgess’ men managed to board Serenity, either. And what’s with the present-day shipping trailer in the background when Burgess comes walking in the back door? And as mentioned before, why did Book, when of the better shots among the crew, avoid staging a defense with a good sniper rifle?

As one might have predicted, Nandi dies in the process, having served her purpose, driving a wedge between Mal and Inara. Mal gets to have his revenge on Burgess by chasing down that hovercraft with a horse (!), and there’s even a passing of the torch as Petaline, the intended victim, takes Nandi’s place as the empowered madam. It’s mildly satisfying that Burgess gets shot in the head, but by that point, there’s no compelling reason to care. Burgess simply isn’t an interesting villain.

Coming right on the heels of “The Message” (at least on DVD), the funeral scene is less than impressive. It’s also a lot shorter than in the shooting script, where the description suggests a far more extensive and emotional scene. As written, it was meant to suggest that Inara was beginning to distance herself from the crew.

This is nearing the end of what would be considered the “complication” phase of the first season. Inara’s decision to leave is more about her own character and slowly unraveling the mystery of her decision to leave the Core and join Mal’s crew, but with none of that realized, it seems like the end of the journey instead of the beginning. As Inara says, it would be easy for her to fall into the family role that Mal is offering her, whether he’s aware of it or not. But that would require an equal commitment from her, which she has been trying to avoid. Her decision to leave is fairly logical, even if this episode wasn’t necessarily the best way to get it done.

It should be noted that when “Trash” was reviewed, it was considered at that time to be the worst of the unaired episodes. In the months since, having seen the episodes more than a few times, “Heart of Gold” has suffered the most from the increased scrutiny. In fact, looking back at the series as a whole, this episode is the least effective of the bunch. Very few of the elements that make “Firefly” such a powerful and unique series were present, and for that reason, this gets the lowest grade out of the 14 episodes.


Memorable Quotes

MAL: “BWAA!”

MAL: “The distress call wouldn’t be taking place in someone’s pants, would it?”

NANDI: “If they got guns and brains at all…”
INARA: “They have guns.”

JAYNE: “I don’t know these folks. Don’t much care to.”
MAL: “They’re whores.”
JAYNE: “I’m in.”

MAL: “Any friend of Inara’s is a strictly businesslike relationship of mine.”

MAL: “They’re good folk.”
JAYNE: “Can I start getting sexed up already?”
MAL: “Well, that one’s kind of horrific…”

WASH: “Would be you get your most poetical about your pecker!”

MAL: “Inara, think you could stoop to being on my arm?”
INARA: “Will you wash it first?”

RIVER: “Who do you think is in there?”

MAL: “Miss Nandi, I have a confession to make.”
NANDI: “Maybe I should get the Shepherd.”
MAL: “Well, I ain’t sinned yet, and I’d feel more than a little awkward having him here when I do.”

INARA: “I wouldn’t say I’m entirely OK. I’m a little appalled by her taste.”

PETALINE: “Jonah, say hello to your daddy. Say goodbye to your daddy, Jonah.”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is an interesting concept, and the resulting consequences were clearly the point of the entire situation. While the shooting script still contained a number of unfortunate flaws, the final cut left out some of the nuances, thus compounding the errors. The villain is never very compelling, and frankly, Nandi’s inconsistent characterization, a requirement of the plot, is a major drawback.

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

Original Rating: N/A
Final DVD Rating: 5/10

X-Files 5.6: "A Christmas Carol"

Written by Vince Gilligan, John Shiban, and Frank Spotnitz
Directed by Peter Markle

In which a visit to her brother’s home for Christmas marks the beginning of a psychological and spiritual journey for Scully when she encounters a young girl with a personal connection…


Status Report

While the various film commitment schedules, franchise-related and otherwise, forced the producers to think outside the box during the fifth season, the results were often mixed. “Unusual Suspects” was an interesting concept with mediocre execution, for instance. This episode was the writers’ attempt to deliver the first part of a mythology episode without Mulder driving the action, due to his schedule on “Playing God”. The result is a rare insight into Scully’s psychology and her life outside of Mulder’s sphere of direct influence.

All things being equal, the producers would have preferred to see Mulder and Scully running around as if nothing of consequence happened in the “Gethsemane” trilogy. Not having both lead cast members available at the same time gave the writers an incentive to implement a more satisfying plan. Considering that Scully is supposed to be working through her emotions since recovering from near-fatal cancer, an experience that ended only weeks earlier, the timing for this kind of episode couldn’t be more perfect.

The intersection with the mythology is fairly straightforward. The writers had already revealed in “Momento Mori” that Scully’s abduction had been about providing genetic material and eggs for reproductive experiments. One aspect of those experiments involved the quick-growing of the “clones” like Kurt Crawford. But there were also many reproductive experiments involving genetic manipulation and forced evolution. This is the mythology-based foundation for the current story, which is in actuality tangential to the story itself.

This is actually about Scully’s questions of self-identity and life coming out of that cancer experience. Everything had been about a fight for meaning in her life, and towards that end, she found herself defining her existence in terms of Mulder’s vision. Now it doesn’t have to be that way, and Scully is discovering that it’s not so simple to take control of her life again. She’s not the same person that she was before Mulder, and her questions of belief and faith in “Redux II” find expression when she is given the chance to explore “extreme possibilities” on her own.

As one would expect, this is an episode overflowing with religious symbolism. Scully’s role on the series would eventually evolve into the “Holy Mother” personification (barren mother giving birth to the miracle child), so there’s something of an unintentional foreshadowing taking place in the teaser. Scully seems to be doing everything possible to keep her spirits high for the season, but she’s clearly thinking about everything that had been bothering her early in the fourth season: thoughts of motherhood.

In “Home”, among other episodes, Scully considered what the effects of her abduction might have on her ability to have children. As she would later discover, much to her shock and despair, was that the abduction left her barren. In essence, this was overshadowed by the threat to her very life, but with that passed, she has to deal with the fact that children are not in her future (or so it seems).

From the mythology perspective, it makes sense that Melissa would lead Scully on this personal journey into self-awareness and faith. Albert Hosteen helped Melissa cross over in “Paper Clip”, and as mentioned in the review for that episode, it seems likely that this had a purpose. This is where that purpose is realized; Melissa directs Scully along the path to discovery. Based on the phone call Scully receives, Scully uncovers an aspect of the mythology that would become incredibly important in her own life. In short, Scully needed to have this experience to prepare her for the difficult road ahead.

This being the “X-Files” version of Christmas, Scully’s personal ghost doesn’t send her on a simple retelling of Dickens’ old yarn. Instead, it’s a more complex and symbolic journey. Scully is led to a crime scene where a woman appears to have committed suicide. While there, Scully sees a little girl, and she’s immediately sympathetic. That’s not hard to understand; the girl just had her mother kill herself at Christmas. What kid wouldn’t look so mutely doleful in such a moment, after the hysterics have passed?

Scully’s first instinct is to call Mulder and consult with him, but she rather quickly realizes that she doesn’t need Mulder in this situation. For one thing, Mulder’s strength has never been spiritualism, and this is so clearly personal to Scully that it would be intrusive for Mulder’s typical methods to be employed. Scully must sense, on some level, that she must do this herself. Never mind that bringing Mulder into this situation would place her at odds with her family at the worst possible time.

Without really knowing it, Tara guts Scully by making it sound like motherhood is the beginning of any woman’s true existence. Tara is not exactly the smartest cookie in the world, but it’s hard to imagine how she could miss the obvious. It’s not like Scully’s health status is the only indicator; certainly Scully’s history (as discussed in this episode, at least) is fairly sparse in terms of romantic prospects. So it’s an insensitive thing for Tara to say regardless. But Scully’s reaction is plain as day, and sure enough, her mother notices. Forced to admit the one thing that’s dominating her thoughts, Scully tries to deny the depth of her pain and need.

It’s sometimes taken as a given that Scully’s dream sequences are meant to be true memories, akin to the visions of Dickens’ immortal tale. That may not be the case. After all, Melissa has already communicated to her sister to begin a process, and Scully’s dreams continue to force her down that path. Her first dream is something of a warning: it’s possible to love something so much, to shelter it from some other threat, that it dies in the process. While Scully isn’t responsible for what happens to Emily in the next episode, Scully’s dream is reminding her that not everything can be saved.

Matters get complicated when Scully decides, with somewhat predictable results, to visit Mr. Sim in the middle of the night. She really doesn’t know what’s going on, so it’s inadvisable to the extreme. What’s worse is that Mr. Sim seems to think that telling Scully that he’s in the middle of a “meeting”, at 2-3AM, is going to make sense. Obviously, it doesn’t. The usefulness of this scene, in the scheme of things, is as an indicator to Scully’s emotional and mental discomfort. Even before she forms a theory, something is telling her to act, and she doesn’t really understand it.

The writers do take some liberties to get the story moving. Those dream sequences with the mixed messages are an example. So is the scene between Detective Kresge and Scully the morning after her midnight walk to the Sims residence. There’s really no reason why Kresge would bother entertaining Scully’s whim (other than the fact she’s insistent and so very attractive when slightly disheveled). There’s certainly no reason why he would let her “borrow” evidence.

In a Mulderesque leap, Scully compares the picture of Emily to a picture of Melissa at a roughly similar age. Sure enough, the pictures match. Scully quickly learns that Emily is an adopted child. It’s not hard to imagine why Scully would make a few assumptions based on that information, given that Melissa keeps calling her. At this point, Scully’s dream perspective shifts, and she begins identifying with Emily, which serves to reinforce her determination to figure out what’s really happening.

It goes without saying that Scully’s activities disrupt her plans with her family. Bill in particular is less than pleased, and it’s not hard to understand why. Scully was more than willing to let work (and therefore Mulder) take priority when she was dying. Bill blamed that on Mulder himself, which was a bit of a simplification of the true dynamic. The last thing Bill wants to see is Scully working through her vacation; he wants to believe that she’s capable of living a normal life. (Ironically, that ship has, by this point, long since sailed!)

Scully trusts her intuition more than ever as she follows the evidence of dreams and Melissa’s spiritual goading. It’s unclear whether or not she comes up with her murder theory based on the evidence alone or those other sources. Certainly it seems like a bit of a leap, despite some of the hints and contrivances earlier in the episode. Whatever the case, Scully cites a couple of interesting and relevant pieces of evidence to support her claim, which demonstrates how far Scully has come.

But as right as Scully might be, there’s the open question of her motivation. She seems to take it very personally that Mr. Sim might have killed his wife. It gets to the point where she’s ordering the local law enforcement around, despite the clear questions of authority. She wants to believe that there’s a connection between Melissa and the child so that she can justify her need for a connection with Emily.

The conversation between Scully and her mother is interesting beyond the family dynamics. One could easily believe, based on Melissa’s introduction in “One Breath”, that she had been something of a wild child, off on her own for months or years at a time. While some minor aspects of the continuity don’t come together, the Scully family dynamic is entirely consistent. What’s more interesting is Ma Scully’s hint that she also has some kind of latent psychic ability.

A lot of fans claim that the dream sequence in which Melissa and Dana get identical cross necklaces is a violation of continuity. Scully previously told Mulder that she received it on her 15th birthday. But for all that the writers are playing on Scully’s past as prologue to her present, these are still dream sequences. Events are dictated by psychological and spiritual need, not strict matters of memory and experience. Scully is laying the foundation of the relationship between herself and Emily; it’s as much about her receiving as it is about her giving. This is the point of the scene in which Scully gives Emily her cross necklace; Scully transitions from being the daughter to being a mother, at least in her own mind’s eye.

One of the connections to the mythology rears its ugly head when payments to Mr. Sim are discovered, coming from a pharmaceutical firm. It doesn’t take much to realize that Emily’s treatments are connected to the conspiracy; indeed, as the next episode would clearly indicate, Emily is hardly the only such “lab rat”. What’s interesting about this is the logical conclusion: the conspiracy involves at least one adoptive parent in the process of evaluating and experimenting on the genetically engineered children.

Scully’s maternal psychology is far afield of normal, even taking into consideration her recent health crisis. Scully needed Melissa to be the probably mother for Emily so she could justify her psychological connection to the child. As Melissa’s sister, she can justify stepping into the role that her sister presumably refused. Bill is there to bring Scully back to some semblance of reality, even if he’s not working with all the information (as usual).

Then again, neither is Scully. She uncovers the fact that someone was using the Sims and Emily for some unknown purpose, but she doesn’t make the conclusion that ought to be easy enough to make. She still holds on to the possibility of Melissa’s presumed pregnancy, even after Bill provides clear evidence of its impossibility. She needs to have that connection for her own psychological comfort.

Of course, it all comes down to Scully’s highly unlikely meeting with Child Services representative. All the clear and simple reasons why Scully should not be a mother, especially on a seeming whim during a delicate time in her life, are laid out for the audience. It’s hard to watch Scully react to the logic, because one is forced to agree, despite the sympathy Scully invokes. Scully might eventually make a good mother, but looking back on the past few years with Mulder, it’s rather obvious how terrible a choice it would be for Scully to adopt. (If only the writers had considered as much when they eventually made Scully pregnant in later seasons!)

Emily’s health condition is a bit of a cheat, even if it does work well in terms of the mythology. It makes it clear, right from the beginning, that Emily’s days are numbered. The whole metaphor of the Christmas miracle child is somewhat tempered by the knowledge that Emily wouldn’t be around very long anyway. It gets the writers off the hook because they can have their cake and eat it too. They get to take Scully on this important psychological journey, yet they also get to bring those issues to a quick and relative close by the end of the next episode.

The conversation between Scully and Melissa could fit within the continuity if it were necessary. But it actually works well if viewed as Melissa’s spirit trying to tell Dana something vital about her own life. Scully may not believe in fate, which makes sense in context with her rejection of her psychic ability, but she has been given clear evidence that some degree of meaning lies beneath everything that has happened in her life. Mulder is at the center of her life now, which is exactly the point of that conversation; even meeting Mulder and becoming part of his world, suffering and all, has been part of someone else’s plan, some other fate.

The whole Christmas miracle theme, tied to the Holy Mother metaphor, comes together in the final scene. The episode ends as it must end, given all that has come before. Scully yearns to be a mother and needs for Emily to be Melissa’s birth mother so that she can step into the role psychologically without too much self-doubt. She just about brings herself to recognize what she’s been trying to do when the floor is ripped out from under her; she is, in fact, the biological mother.

This presents Scully with the typical double-edged sword: she gets exactly what she wants, but the circumstances are such that the likely outcome is far worse than the theoretical impossibility of motherhood. She began struggling with the reality of her barren condition and the conspiracy that made that happen. Now she’s face to face with her genetic daughter, a child who is dying for the very reason that Scully can be her genetic parent. One is left with the thought that Scully might have been better off if her journey had simply been psychological.

But this gives the writing staff the chance to play on some religious metaphors in the same vein as the “Gethsemane” trilogy. Where Mulder was portrayed as something of a Christ figure in that part of the mythology arc, Scully is here portrayed as the Holy Mother (though clearly not a virgin!). This is hardly the last time this would happen, and taken in retrospect, this season is where the two concepts are introduced for later exploration. Scully is figuratively the Holy Mother in this episode; in the later seasons, she would become a modern incarnation of Mary in several respects.

In a lot of ways, this is the kind of episode that the writers should have attempted more often. One cannot help but recognize that the series was weakened by the somewhat erratic treatment of the main characters. Sometimes they were treated like icons, stuck within a strict portrayal; far less often, the characters would be given a more substantial personality. What could the series have been if this kind of episode were the norm?


Memorable Quotes

SCULLY: “It’s OK…I just never realized how much I wanted it until I couldn’t have it.”

SCULLY: “I don’t understand. I mean…I think I have the right to know why you’re rejecting my application.”

MELISSA: “Just don’t mistake the path for what’s really important in life.”
SCULLY: “Which is what?”
MELISSA: “The people you’re going to meet along the way. You don’t know who you’re going to meet when you join the FBI. You don’t know how your life is going to change, or how you’re going to change the life of others.”

BILL: “What are you trying to say?
SCULLY: “According to this…I’m Emily’s mother…”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was an interesting and uncommon in-depth look at Scully’s psychology. The writers rarely had such an opportunity, and along with Gillian Anderson, they run with the opportunity. The religious metaphor is a bit thick throughout, but this is actually a bit more subtle than would become the norm. Making the child sick works for the mythology, but in a lot of ways, it seems like a plot contrivance.

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

Final Rating: 8/10

Roswell 2.21: "The Departure"

Written by Jason Katims
Directed by Patrick Norris

In which the hybrids say their last goodbyes as they prepare to leave Earth for their own homeworld, but things get complicated when the truth about Alex is revealed…


Status Report

From the very beginning of this episode, it’s clear that the shuffling of episodes damaged the dramatic narrative flow. Maria and Michael’s voiceovers assume that the audience has just dealt with the fallout of Max and Tess being together and the news of a way back to Antar; unfortunately, the audience was more likely wondering what the hell Maria meant when she said that “Off the Menu” held the “key to everything”.

If “Off the Menu” is cut out of the sequence, the story builds nicely into the beginning of this episode. But it’s still not enough to repair the damage done by the network’s back-stabbing ways. “The Departure” was originally written and edited for a two-hour slot. After the episode was already prepared for broadcast, the network went back on their word and demanded that the season finale be cut down to one hour. By then, the network had already long since decided that “Roswell” wasn’t going to be renewed, and the producers had created the finale as a means of bringing the open plot and character threads to a relative close.

The effect of cutting out 44 minutes of an 88 minute story is staggering. It doesn’t take much to recognize that a lot of good material was ripped out of the episode; there are moments that feel like they were carved down to one or two critical lines of dialogue. There is, apparently, a bootleg version of the original two-hour version, though it’s hard to confirm. If that’s the case, then it should have been restored and presented on the DVD set, to give the fans what they really wanted and (from a studio perspective) to recoup some small measure of what was lost when the episode wasn’t aired in full.

The network decision was public enough that fans should have been more forgiving when the episode didn’t quite deliver on every level. The producers were forced to take certain liberties with the resolution of ongoing plot threads. A lot of decisions made by the characters feel rushed and illogical because much of the process of getting to those decisions had to be removed. The producers went with emotional payoffs rather than strictly logical ones, and it’s on that level that the episode succeeds.

The episode begins with the hybrids discussing their final 24 hours on Earth. It’s logical to assume that this is how both versions of the story began. The scene cuts almost immediately to Max and Michael asking to speak with Liz and Maria, so they can prepare to say goodbye. This scene also includes the real visual clue, completely missing from “Off the Menu”: Kyle’s finger drumming, which matches the same unconscious habit that Alex acquired in “Cry Your Name”.

Brendan Fehr has always given Michael a very realistic and uncompromising personality, so when he becomes serious and openly emotional, it hits home. Maria’s reaction is exactly what it ought to be: she’s probably been waiting for the next hammer to fall since Alex’s death and the revelation that aliens really were behind it. As has been the case since “Cry Your Name”, Michael and Maria take solace in each other, even as events promise to tear their worlds apart.

The conversation between Max and Liz is far less satisfying. For Liz to claim that she never blamed Max or the others is an outright lie. How many times did they remind the audience of Liz’s angry words at the end of “Cry Your Name”? Why would Max have reacted so strongly to Liz and her investigation unless he felt like she was holding him responsible? Perhaps Katims realized that the writers had gone a little too far in how polarized the characters had become, and this scene was meant to bring them closer to a meaningful rapprochement than otherwise possible.

That said, Max is still not thinking clearly. It makes sense given how conflicted and worn-out he was at the end of “Baby, It’s You”, but the shuffling of the episodes makes it harder to sympathize with his situation. Max is under a deadline, so he makes the assumption that killing Leanna is the easiest way to ensure the safety of his human friends. Liz definitely has a stake in the outcome, but her inclusion seems more contrived (thanks to the deeply cut scenes) to ensure that Max doesn’t make a fatal mistake.

All season long, Isabel has struggled with the desire to strike out on her own and escape the edicts set down by Max. Never has that inner conflict been more obvious than in the past few episodes. The deadline presented by this finale provides the writers with a clear resolution to that character arc: does Isabel betray her brother (metaphorically, anyway) by refusing to return home at his side, or does she stand by him and make up for the past indiscretions of Vilandra. Isabel’s inner conflict is well depicted, making the time spent to portray her grief worth it. This is an example of where the producers chose the emotionally satisfying scenes over plot exposition.

One challenge of the episode was making sense of Tess’ motivations. It’s not overly harsh to say that this goal was not achieved. Tess had been given a strong sense of direction up until “Viva Las Vegas”: her cold alien side had been partially melted away by the love and support of the Valenti clan. The scene between Tess and Jim seemed to be designed to demonstrate how honest she had been in her affections, because the ending wasn’t going to give her much in the way of sympathetic portrayal.

But Tess’ motivations, beyond getting Max to mate with her and then return home to Antar, were never clear. The suggestion is that Tess, until around “Max in the City”, had assumed that Max and Liz would be together, despite her best attempts to follow through on Nasedo’s deal with Kivar. The suggestion is that without Nasedo, Tess had doubts about the viability of the plan. When she decided to use Alex and several others in Las Cruces to translate the book, was she firmly acting out of desire to ensnare Max? Or was she getting that information because she thought it might be useful? She was at the summit, so she knew that Kivar had been ready to accept the granilith and presumably the heir to Max’s throne; was her decision to translate the book and find a way home based on the assumption that the result of the summit and Nasedo’s deal would work in her favor?

One wouldn’t have expected Tess to tip her hand if she had always been evil, but her efforts to gain Max’s trust and to integrate with the Valentis had seemed sincere. Did the writers backtrack on the original plan to integrate Tess as a love interest for Kyle when the writing was on the wall? Did the network’s decision to end “Roswell” give the writers the idea that making Tess a true enemy wouldn’t need to be addressed in the future?

Villains are compelling when they believe that they are doing the right thing. Tess didn’t need to be in concert with Kivar, via a vague deal with Nasedo, in order for her “betrayal” to make dramatic sense. She could have accidentally killed Alex and still returned home in much the same situation as shown. Without the reference to the deal with Kivar, the entire story would have hinged on the warring desires and imperatives within Tess herself. That would have been far more satisfying in terms of the season’s theme.

On the one hand, Tess would have wanted to do what was necessary to convince Max that he should follow his destiny. That would logically include giving him knowledge of his Antarian heritage, the lack of which has always been a gap between them. Mindwarping Alex into performing her bidding would have fallen into that category. On the other hand, Tess would have been getting closer to her more human side, thus coming to terms with life beyond Max and Antar. Tess’ decision not to reveal the translation could have been justified as her decision to abandon the thought of going home, and Alex’s death could have been explained as the side effect of her efforts to hide her previous motivations. Tess would have been a more sympathetic and tragic figure had that been the case.

The writers frame the Leanna question in rather simplistic terms: either Leanna is a killer alien, or she’s human. This is the other downside of placing “Off the Menu” out of sequence, just before this episode. It makes Max and Liz look incredibly stupid. Why don’t either of them consider the possibility that Leanna has been “possessed” like Brody? For that matter, why not have Leanna be “possessed” by one of Kivar’s allies, who then poses Tess with an offer or ultimatum after “Max in the City”? The Skins were out of commission, the summit didn’t work…Kivar could have sent someone within Leanna to threaten the lives of the hybrids’ human allies. That’s a second option for giving Tess a more reasonable and logical motivation.

While Michael gets to say goodbye to Maria and Max gets to find some sense of closure with Liz, Isabel is left to visit Alex’s grave. Had this been the series finale, it would have been a nice capstone to the whole Alex/Isabel relationship. As it stands, the concept is revisited in the beginning of the third season in a less satisfying way. (But then, the third season adds Jesse, which was a bad idea all around.)

Once Leanna is cleared, Max and Liz are left with the fallout of the entire season. While specifically the issues in “Cry Your Name” and “The End of the World” created their current crisis, it originated in “Destiny”. Liz didn’t want to stand in the way of Max’s destined path, and one way or another, events forced both of them to live with that decision. It makes perfect sense, in retrospect, that Max and Liz would reach their darkest hour at the end of the second of three seasons. The third season is essentially the process of healing necessary for them to come together.

Liz and Max don’t really know how to deal with the situation they find themselves in. Max has already decided to leave, but he wasn’t expecting the killer to still be loose. (Keeping in mind that Max is completely ignoring the fact that aliens can attack Liz and the others even after they leave.) Liz, in her pain over Tess’ pregnancy, has little desire to give Max credit. But she’s not really angry with him; she’s equally angry with herself. She knows, on some level, that she had always assumed that sooner or later Max would still come to her, no matter how hard she pushed him away.

This is in counterpoint to Michael and Maria’s “dinner”, in which one of the older questions in the series’ history is finally answered. Michael makes it clear that the “flashes” between Max and Liz had everything to do with Max’s desire to open himself up to Liz. Both Liz and Maria seemed to share flashes with their hybrid loves, but Maria never had flashes herself. Michael, it seems, consciously held back. But now, at the end, he doesn’t want to hold back, and he gives her everything. And sure enough, as anyone might have guessed, Maria is at the center of his universe.

Max and Liz feel the same way, but events have driven them apart instead of together. By the time Max tells Liz that he wishes it could have been different, he’s speaking for everyone in the audience. When it comes to Max with either Liz or Tess, things could have been very different. The battle between destiny and free will has left all of them in tatters; the third season is therefore quite a battle to reclaim what was lost (which is inevitably one of the themes of that season).

It’s at this point that the episode really begins to show signs of massive editing. Michael’s admission of his impending departure takes its time, but it’s not as satisfying as it could have been. Max and Isabel barely get to discuss her misgivings, emphasizing the choice she must make, before things move on. And then there’s Liz and Sean.

Sean was always developed as the character of “Not Max”, and once again, that’s the purpose he serves in this episode. Liz goes to him, and almost instantly, she rejects him. It’s incredibly jarring, and it’s clear that there was supposed to be more to it. It’s not a horrible edit, but the pacing is disrupted and the point is somewhat lost in translation. Liz looks like she’s using Sean again, but the audience doesn’t even get to delve into her complicated emotional state.

When Max and Isabel sit down to record their goodbye to the Evans, it really begins to drive home the fact that this was the end of an era. If this had been the definitive end of the series, this is all constructed very well. Given that the departure never actually happens, it becomes a source of immense complication in the third season. For all that, it’s interesting to consider that they recorded a farewell despite faking an accident. Why not just fake the accident and be done with it?

When Tess sees a flash of Max kissing Liz, it has more than a few implications. For one thing, taken in context with Michael’s previous comments about “opening up”, it suggests that Max has fully accepted that he will be with Tess for the rest of his life. Otherwise, how would she get that memory? For her part, Tess acts a bit too catty. After all, she’s won the contest, forcing Max to follow his destiny instead of his heart’s desire. Why rub it in?

Valenti’s farewell to the hybrids is about what one would expect, and it certainly brings a tear to the eye. It’s a little awkward, though, because Valenti’s role as father figure for Max and Michael never really materialized this season. Indeed, Valenti’s place on the series was never the same after the first season, when he was written as a complex semi-villain. In the second season, he was symbolic of the cost of the hybrids’ secrets on the humans around them; in the third season, his character took a major turn for the worse. For all that, Valenti’s words to Max speak to his compassion. He could easily have been bitter about how his life has fallen apart since the beginning of the series.

One element of the finale that is completely dropped is the mental instability caused by Tess and her mindwarping. The extent of the damage seems rather inconsistent. For humans, it can apparently be harsh from just one exposure; Amy is a basket case, and Alex found himself falling apart at the seams. But Kyle is still relatively normal, and “Leanna” seemed all right. And what about Max, who was the recipient of extensive mindwarping himself? One might use that to explain the depth of his emotional breakdown over the previous few episodes, but it’s still not clear.

The whole process of uncovering the effect of Tess’ mindwarping and the truth behind Alex’s death looks like it would have been far more extensive. There are signs of quick and dirty editing all over the final act, in fact, and it takes something away from the impact. It also gives the audience the false impression that the explanation makes sense as presented. It doesn’t take long to realize that the Cliff Notes version of the story doesn’t really answer the burning questions of method and motivation. (Perhaps the issue of why Liz asked Kyle where the pod chamber was would have made more sense in the extended version!)

Michael’s character arc comes to a very satisfying conclusion when he decides not to go to Antar with the others. It’s entirely consistent with his journey this season, and it feels incredibly satisfying. Ultimately, Michael went against his destined role and made a human choice to remain on Earth. Isabel makes the similar choice: choosing to remain with Max rather than abandon him. Tess, of course, is firmly rooted in her desire to fulfill destiny, because she has always been the incarnation of Max’s “preset” role. Max is the only one still in play.

Like the quick and truncated investigation into Alex’s death, the confrontation with Tess is missing a lot of critical information. Even the dialogue feels like it was chopped up and rearranged. Tess’ motivations are all over the map. As mentioned earlier, she could have stopped at the point where she regretfully admits that she didn’t mean to kill Alex, and that it was all about hiding what she was doing. It would have made Alex’s death and Tess’ part in it more tragic. But the writers tacked on that bit about Nasedo’s deal with Kivar, which complicates the situation needlessly.

One has to wonder when and why Nasedo made the deal. Tess says it was 40 years earlier; that would be prior to the emergence of the hybrids, while Nasedo was still on the run. So why would Nasedo see the Skins on Earth as a threat? As noted in reviews for the early episodes of the season, the Skins seemed to be acting on their own, based on a mandate set around the time that the hybrids were sent to Earth. That might account for why they were willing to cross Kivar and why they wouldn’t know about a deal between Nasedo and Kivar made years after their arrival. But it’s all far too complicated and unexplained.

The very ending is equally rushed. The special effects are not at all impressive, though the budget restrictions were what they were, and little could be done about it. But there’s not much time for Max to ruminate on the fact that he needs to find a way to save his son from his enemies before the episode comes to a frantic halt. One gets the feeling that the ending would have been a bit more measured had time allowed; as it was, the story barely gets a chance to end before the episode fades to black.

Looking back at the episodes beginning with “Baby, It’s You”, the effect of the network interference on the story was clear. Instead of a well-paced and consistent plot arc, the producers were left with episodes that took place in wildly different points in continuity and half the time they expected for the season finale. It’s even worse when one considers that the producers weren’t positive that the series would be renewed; the ending was constructed on the hopes that some other network would save the day.

As a result, the season ends on something of a down note. It’s hard to give the writers credit when much of what they wrote never made it on screen, but much of what happened to make this episode lackluster came out of network interference. Those words become somewhat of an unfortunate mantra for “Roswell”, because for much of the series’ run, the true vision of the writing staff was held back by attempts to make “Roswell” to something it wasn’t.

On the whole, the second season tried to be many things to please many people. The network demanded more sexual tension, more focus on Max as a leader, and more sci-fi action. The writers and producers wanted to continue with the delicate balance of the first season’s best moments: melding character drama with philosophical exploration of self-identity. In the end, the various demands (and the ever-changing episode commitments) made it nearly impossible for the episodes to be consistently well-received. As the fans would discover, the concessions made going into the third season made the situation even more precarious, leaving the fans wondering if the renewal was a victory after all.


Memorable Quotes

DIANE: “Do you realize there are people teaching cooking classes naked? There are talking politics naked!”
PHILIP: “Politics? Really?”

ISABEL: “Alex, that night…that night at the Prom when we danced…it was one of the best nights of my life and I never got to tell you that.”
ALEX: “My Lady?”

LIZ: “I trusted you! I gave you everything, I jumped off bridges for you, I broke laws for you, I risked getting shot for you, I trusted you, and you go off…God, Max, I saved myself for you!”
MAX: “Saved yourself? You slept with Kyle!”

MICHAEL: “…I want you to see me...”

MAX: “I wish…I wish it could have been different. I wish that so much.”

VALENTI: “It’s been an honor to know you, Max. It’s been an honor.”

MICHAEL: “I finally found home. The weird thing is, it’s here, on Earth.”
MAX: “You of all people…”

MAX: “Home to what, Tess? To Kivar? To our enemies?”
TESS: “They’re not my enemies, Max.”

ISABEL: “What happens now, Max?”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode would have been much better in its original two-hour form. The deep editing required to remove half the story crippled the final product. The producers did everything possible to cram in all the emotional content; after that, there was little time left to explore the more subtle points of plot resolution. In the end, this episode is much like the second season as a whole: flawed, but mostly for reasons beyond the control of the creators themselves.

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

Final Rating: 6/10

Season 2 Final Average: 6.7