314: 'A Clear and Present Danger'
Wr: Tim Kring
Dr: Greg Yaitanes
Synopsis: After the battle between Pinehearst and Primatech, Pete, Claire, Matt, and Daphne try to live normal lives, while a powerless Hiro tries to teach Ando how to use his new special ability and become a superhero. However, Claire discovers Nathan's plan to track down those with abilities.
Review: Much has been made of the perceived failure of Heroes' third volume, 'Villains'. Television periodicals stoked viewer panic with feature after feature decrying the show's descent into mundanity. 'Too much plot!', 'not enough character development!', 'forced character changes!', 'betrayals of continuity!', 'lack of motivation!', 'too much time travel!': all sensationalised headlines that, when combined, painted a bleak portrait of a show on the cusp of sinking under the weight of its own highly set standards. To be fair, some of these criticisms have a degree of validity: certainly, by the end of the volume, cracks were beginning to appear in the masterplan. Things were getting a little too sloppy. So, out go the convoluted generation-spanning mythology arcs about previously-thought dead fathers and complex scientific formulas and in comes a straightforward narrative singularity about otherness and social segregation. While I still have trouble buying into Nathan's transformation into a contemporary Adolf Hitler, I suppose it's something I'm just going to have to swallow if I wish to impartially enjoy and review the show. And honestly, aside from this niggling scab and the reappearance of Sylar WHO REALLY NEEDS TO LEARN TO STAY DEAD (even if his plot is fairly minimal and more than a little pleasingly creepy), Kring's script works really rather well.
There's something refreshing about the simplicity of the thing: there's no grand scheme to destroy the world or mobilise an army. All we have here is one man's psychotic desire to round up those like him and throw them as far away as possible, probably due to his own internalised phobia and self-loathing. The plot moves forward at a steady pace, maneouvering everyone into position, and gives us a rather delightful climactic sequence in which everyone gets to dress up in Slipknot jumpsuits and have an in-flight catastrophe. It's excitingly disturbing stuff and does show promise, although I have my concerns over the possibilities inherent in the narrative trajectory. Hopefully, things won't be as simple as CRAZY PSYCHO Zelko Ivanjek chases after the Heroes week in, week out and they stay one step ahead of him because Parkman is now, conveniently enough, a prophet. While every second that Andre Drazen, sorry Ivanjek, is on our screens is a joy to behold, that would become very old, very fast. The last thing Heroes needs is to become an overblown chase narrative in which everyone runs around for forty five long, drawn out minutes. The show is so much more than that and let's hope that Kring and co.'s desire to up the ratings and please the critics by calming things down doesn't mean that they send the show into cardiac arrest. Still, an encouraging start to volume four and arguably worth it for the Ando Cycle alone. Here's to a revitalised programme! 8.5
315: 'Trust and Blood'
Wr: Mark Verheiden
Dr: Allan Arkush
Synopsis: Our heroes truly become fugitives, and they are on the run from one of their own. Sylar begins the search for his father, and Matt's paintings reveal a dark fate.
Review: What a difference a simple production staff change makes, eh? Please welcome into the fray Mr. Mark Verherden, the man responsible for penning some of the greatest (among many great) episodes of Battlestar Galactica in the last couple of years; thankfully, he's now been poached by Kring and is setting his mind to scribing beauties like 'Trust and Blood'. Granted, there's nothing particularly awe-inspiring about the plot: the premise retains the air of simplicity struck up in last week's volume premiere, focusing on individual efforts to escape the clutches of the dreaded Nathan/Andre Drazen machine (oh and Sylar's hunt to find his father) but this is, in itself, breathing life into the tapestry of the show. Verherden's script just orchestrates the whole thing with such flair and panache that you can't help but be impressed. I mean, check out the dialogue man! How much of an improvement is this! Aside from a slightly mawkish final scene between Peter, Hiro, Ando, Matt and Mohinder, the clumsy one-liners delivered cheesily to camera and coming across forced and unbelievable are gone. In their place, we have intelligent conversation (such as the social debate between Nathan and his Hunter) and words that flow from the actors' mouths and,, more importantly, that are damn well in character. Matt, Hiro and Mohinder's lines as a trio in particular are indicative of this but, to be honest, it's difficult to pinpoint specific examples because the quality permeates the entire script.
Verherden is a master at making something interesting out of the apparently mundane. His narrative doesn't simply coast along on fabulaic auto-pilot, revealing events in a standard syntagmatic fashion. Instead, he interjects the plot's development with flashes of a future (in terms of the story chronology) piece, in which Nathan is relaying the details of 'Trust and Blood's contemporary sequences to an unknown listener, later revealed to be the sinister Angela. This not only gives credence to some of Nathan's actions and begins to allow us to see why he's turned into a mini-Hitler (just without the bloodlust... yet), it also lends the narrative an original sheen that has perhaps been missing from previous episodes. It displaces the viewer for it is outside of the chronological story development and that's just the kind of thing the show should be doing more: surprising us in whatever ways possible.
Speaking of surprises, poor poor Daphne. Gone bye bye... well, we think. And we barely knew her. I quite enjoyed her character and I question the sense in gettingr id of someone with so much potential so flippantly (shock value, much?) but, there again, the desired effect is achieved: it gives us all the opportunity to sit bolt upright and scream "you what?" at the TV. There's also the final scene with Tracey which seems a little ominous... what are they doing to her/where are they taking her? Nathan remarks 'don't fight it' and the anchoring/presentation of the scene seems to suggest there is something significantly bad going on: is it just that she's being carted off to some concentration camp or are they actually going to kill her? Nicely ambiguous that one. And so, for that matter, is Sylar's story which finally, after all these weeks, is actually becoming interesting again. His screen time is kept to just the right level and his dialogue is replete with the kind of unrelenting, warped malice that made us all love to hate him back in season one. No cheesy one-liners, no questioning his own inate evilness... just backwards psychology and manipulative bastardom. Zachary Quinto is wonderful when he's psychoanalysing the crazed mother/son relationship and thankfully, the child that he's been given to play off seems to be a very competent young actor too... so no cringeworthy moments to come, hopefully. I like this development in all honesty because it really is something completely new. It offers u a whole wealth of possibilities for Sylar's previously stilted narrative... oh, and how cool was the torture? That shit looked nasty...
Last week, I wrote that that I was fearful that 'Fugitives' might end up becoming a victim of its own simplicity, turning into one long, drawn out chase narrative that could bore the tweed off a Physics lecturer. While 'Trust and Blood' keeps the story simple, certainly, it circumnavigates this problem by keeping the writing strong, believable and, most importantly of all, finding fresh ways to present it. Well done Kring: poaching Verherden was a masterstroke. Now just get him to write the rest of the season. Ta. 8.6
316: 'Building 26'
Wr: Rob Fresco
Dr: Sergio Mimica-Gezzan
Synopsis: As the President sends a representative to investigate Nathan's activities, Sylar continues his quest to find his father. Hiro and Ando travel to India to fulfill the destiny shown by Matt's drawing, and Claire risks her father's wrath to protect a new friend.
Review: I've said it before and I'll say it again... you just can't please Heroes fans. If they're not rubbishing their favourite show for its apparent complexity, they're berating it for being slow moving and 'boring'. Now, it's certainly worth reminding ourselves of the age-old credo, 'you can't please all of the people all of the time', but it seems that the Heroes audience is never happy; or, at least, it would appear so if you spend your time idly lurking on the show's many interweb forums like a sad bastard, as I do. Ahem. The central issue, it seems, is that the fans want the programme to return to the heady days of season one when things were 'more original, characters were less convoluted and stories were more interesting'. The problem, of course, is that as soon as you ask a show to go backwards, it stops being original or interesting and instead it becomes a rehash of itself, trying desperately to counter the highly natural tide of story development. Things. Change. It's inevitable. You simply cannot expect any halfway deent show to remain in a self-contained bubble, especially not one WITH AN ONGOING PLOT. While a number of the changes inherent in Heroes haven't exactly been executed as well as they could have been, the very fact that the show is willing to progress should be something that we encourage, not lambast. The answer is not to return to the stylistics of the first season: it's to write change in a more convincing and enjoyable fashion. Just look at the other serialised shows on TV at the moment: Lost, Battlestar Galactica, Supernatural... none of these are much like their debut seasons but, crucially, they are far, far better for it. Development is the cornerstone of a successful, ongoing drama, not the enemy.
With this in mind, it is easy to see where 'Building 26' falls regrettably short. The episode tries its very best to restore some perceived 'loss' of season one characteristics by concentrating squarely on the kind of character facets that were implicit in the central players back when we were first introduced to them. So, Hiro and Ando make a completely pointless trip to Inia in an effort to regain Hiro's 'destiny' (his powers). Naturally, there's a moral lesson in this escapade: that you don't need powers to be a hero. Well, there's a revelation. This motif has been reiterated to death by the show since the get go. Hell, we even have a character who effectively acts as an encapsulation of this fact: Ando himself. Sure, it's mildly interesting to see the roles reversed in their relationship but on the whole, the narrative creaks with the rot of aged familiarity. There is no logic to the journey either: the pair travel to India simply because the painting indicates that they do, rather tha out of some need that the painting happens to reflect, and in so doing, the only ultimate outcome is the receipt of a message from REBEL about Matt... which, surely, they didn't need to travel abroad to receive. Hiro's epiphany, for me, just doesn't have the weight or relevance to justify devoting an entire B-storyline to a, quite frankly, ludicrously boring and cliched story about a woman who doesn't wish to enter into an arranged marriage. With every beat, the plot becomes still more predictable: as Ando convinces the bride to call off the wedding in two seconds, so it becomes clear that the groom will reinitiate it. Once Ando is kidnapped, Hiro's adoption of the role of intercessor is assured. And then, once the wedding begins, Hiro's interference is achingly obvious. The entire story can be read before it unfolds onscreen and that, my friends, certainly isn't the sign of a rivetingly written narrative.
That it were only this strand that falls victim to this problem. Sadly, it's rife elsewhere too, particularly in Claire/HRG's narrative. Fresco tries desperately to restore the conflict that made their story such a success in season one but, in so doing, makes the whole thing feel like a tired retread of things past. These two characters have grown significantly since we were first introduced to them: they've had so many reconciliatory father/daughter moments based on his desire to protect her and her assertion she she doesn't need protecting/what he is doing goes beyond the acceptable that I've lost count. And yet, here we fucking go again. It's the same plot beat we've had forced down our throats for far too long; during the early season three episodes, it seemed it was buried, or at least put to rest for a while. Now, we have the whole damn thing all over again, in glorious technicolor. Claire rebels against her father's wishes and brings a cute boy along for the ride (um, West, anyone?) It's just yawnsome. And the fact that she pulls the wool over his eyes for the majority of the episode is just plain unbelievable. How mnay times has she rebelled now? It's practically a pre-requisite. He'd have her surveilled or locked in her room or something as soon as she raised the slightest objection. But no, in the interests of servicing the plot (getting it to the point where HRG can be kidnapped), she gets away with it AGAIN. It's almost insulting to the viewer to expect us to swallow this sort of thing. Granted, it does give us the rather unexpected development of having HRG estranged from his wife but this doesn't make up for the boredom induced by the predictability of the remainder of the storyline.
There are additional problems elsewhere, too. While Nathan's story is at least a decent attempt at exploring the politics of his actions, it is fraught with story inconsistencies and illogical developments. First, why would Homeland send a non-believer to investigate the activities of Building 26? Particualrly when this decision will have been overseen by the President? The head of state is aware of Nathan's project; hell, HE ACTIVATED IT. He is, therefore, a believer in the existence of powers and any investigation would surely have been into the human rights aspect of the operation alone. Thus, someone privy to the reality would have been brought in, not a skeptic. The only reason for this is to serve the plot, so that conflict can be created out of an attempt to illustrate both sides of the political debate. Very lazy guys. And then there's Tracey's 'escape'. This is utterly, utterly ridiculous. Right, so she understands that someone loosened her shackles to facilitate her escape and that this was designed to win the doubting Thomas (WHO SHE KNOWS AND IS HER FRIEND) over to Nathan's side. You know, the woman who actually sympathises with her situation and may be able to help her out of it... as she actually tells her when she first enters her cell. So what does Tracey Strauss, sensible, inteligent, expert at conniving and political maneouvering, do? She murders the man who tries to recapture her, in power-centric fashion! It isn't even accidental! And she does it right in front of the woman WHO WAS GOING TO HELP HER AND DIDN'T BELIEVE SHE WAS A MONSTER! Eh?! This is completely and utterly unbelievable, especially given that Strauss seems to understand that she was being manipulated: so she just went along with it? Oh yeah, very sensible. Again, this just illustrates the lazy nature of the writing: Tracey's illogical move is simply a convenient method of getting the story to the point that Fresco needs: no governmental objection to Nathan's operation. It's a shame that this decision taints what is otherwise a fairly competent strand. There are some strong interchanges between characters (particularly Nathan and the Hunter) and the race/difference allegory is well woven. But,a gain, flawed writing gets in the way of this success.
The only aspect of the episode that escapes these problems is Sylar's story which remains somewhat refreshing thanks to the inclusion of the child. Once again, there's some good interplay between the two and the development of their somewhat warped surrogate father/son relationship is moving at a pleasing pace. Zachary Quinto is particularly good this week, returning Sylar to the manipulative, evil SOB of old while also interjecting enough compassionate difference to stress the changes he is going through. Crucially, they are nothing like the complete about turn that compromised his character in 'Villains': they are slight tweaks, not personality shifts. Sadly, however, this is not enough to save 'Building 26'. The remaining strands, while far from excerable, are fraught with problems, the most prominent of which is the failed execution of some perceived 'need' to return to the trappings of season one. This is the last thing Heroes needs right now: it should be moving forward, not traipsing back. If it doesn't regain its focus and momentum soon, I fear for the show's survival. Let's hope this was one is just a blip. 6.2
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