211: 'Johari Window'
Wr: Josh Singer
Dr: Joe Chappelle
Synopsis: The Fringe team travels to the town of Edina to investigate the nearby murder of three state troopers. They discover that many of the residents are disfigured, but have managed to hide their deformity... and some will to go to any lengths to ensure their secret.
Review: Fringe lapses back into its all-too-familiar Pattern (hah! See what I did there? With punctuation? No? Philistines...) with the frustratingly renamed 'Johari Window' (what was wrong with 'Edina City Limits'? Hmm?), sending Olivia and the Bishops off in search of some scientifically perplexing, but entirely inconsequential, curiosity-of-the-week while the infinitely more interesting arc plot is left to stew in its own juices for another four weeks... you know, just in time for the episode that will precede the mid-season break. This format of compartmentalised storytelling has become so transparent at this point that, honestly, it would be a safe bet for you to tune out until the last hour before the next scheduled hiatus and not really miss anything. And perhaps we wouldn't mind this so much if the stand-alones weren't so gosh damn lazy. To be fair to the writing staff, there has been something of an upturn in quality recently, 'Snakehead' and 'Of Human Action' being two examples that immediately spring to mind, but sadly, this latest offering feels a little lacking.
That's not to say Josh Singer isn't trying, of course. At its core, his script contains a plethora of inherently intriguing ideas. It is certainly refreshing to be served a story that doesn't contain a parasitic virus or rampaging genetic monster as its conceptual antagonist, with a shady government official or barking foreign scientist utilising either to wreak havoc. Instead, the 'genetic anomaly' trope is effectively turned on its head as the narrative steers away from using it to demonstrate an impending threat, and, instead, makes it a lamentable and irreversible consequence of a series of events that occurred long ago. As a result, the plot feels less like a traditional slice of stand-alone Fringe; the emphasis is not on dramatic event, but on explanation and understanding. In the end, we have no villain to arrest, no conspiracy to uncover. For all a portion of the townsfolk - including the sheriff - are prone to unwarranted murder, this is given very little fanfare and is dealt with as swiftly as possible, rendering it largely unforgettable. The main focus, pleasingly, is the crushing moral dilemma that Bishop presents to Broyles: the question of whether the inhabitants of Edina should be allowed to maintain their collective disguise. This works quite well as a minor allegory on physicality and the psychological and social machinations of human perception: the question of whether life is better lived as is, with deformity on show to the rest of the world, or if it is best to remain within one's comfort zone, literally seeing past the disfigurement and living 'as normal' (for want of a better phrase), is a very astute one and, refreshingly, Singer does not take the moral high ground and offer the 'be who you are' resolution. Edina's decision to remain internalised, as it were, is far, far more believable than, say, an epiphianic mass exodus and, as such, the narrative's pay off, in this respect at least, feels somewhat rewarding.
Unfortunately, the manner through which we get to this point doesn't offer quite as many treats. While the narrative is refreshing for its lack of standard dramatic drive, it also falters under the weight of its level of exposition. A large proportion of what we're dealing with is historical; while it's interesting to discern exactly what has caused the townsfolk to become disfigured, the need to relate the explanation through dialogue, through the literal telling of events, makes the reveal seem a little dry. If this had been a recent development, and the people of Edina were trying to figure it out themselves, the story would perhaps have acquired a little more flavour. Unusually, the structure of the narrative feels rather disjointed in this regard. Walter and Astrid arrive at the truth well before Olivia and Peter, and as we flit between two separate strands, it becomes considerably frustrating to see Torv and Jackson poring over questions that have been answered fifteen minutes prior. What is more, it's fairly obvious to everyone with a few functional brain cells that at the very least the sheriff, if not the entire town, has the genetic deformity - when you're lingering on the guy using unusual slow shots, having him pause before he responds to Olivia's questions and information dumps and soundtracking his appearances with eerie, ominous music, it sorta gives it away, you know.
It is also becoming rather tiresome to see Walter having a personal investment in literally every case that comes flying through Fringe Division's door. Once again, he just so happened to work on the exact project that has caused this strange turn of events and yup, he knew the guy who is ultimately responsible for it as well. This sort of plot development just makes it horribly easy for Singer to slot together the pieces of the narratalogical puzzle, to join the theoretical dots, and frankly, it's becoming insulting. Would it kill the writing staff to put together a story in which none of the protagonists have any historical connection to the exterior players involved? Honestly guys, it wouldn't limit your opportunities for character development or make the overall narrative seem any less entertaining. If anything, it would probably make a great number of us want to watch more. Yes, fine, Walter's personal investment in this particular case is used as a springboard to explore his state of mind in the aftermath of his ordeal at the end of 'Grey Matters'... but it needn't be. Find another way. Get creative. God knows, you've got one hell of a blank slate there writers, and a central concept fit to burst with possibility. Use it.
'Johari Window' does try to offer something different to Fringe's standard 'curiosity-of-the-week' fare and, at times, it succeeds. Unfortunately, there just isn't enough here that proves truly engaging, especially in the wake of a beast like 'Grey Matters.' Singer's script falls back on too many familiar dramatic devices and plot tropes in its execution, which hampers the effectiveness of its admittedly rather nifty allegory. Sorry to have to say it again guys but... must try harder. 6.8
212: 'What Lies Below'
Wr: Jeff Vlaming
Dr: Deran Serafian
Synopsis: While investigating a case in an office building where a man's blood literally burst from his arteries and veins, Peter and Olivia are trapped in a CDC quarantine when it's discovered that the blood carries a deadly pathogen.
Review: With each passing stand alone episode of Fringe, it becomes ever more apparent that the show's writing staff spend their weekends drinking beer and possibly smoking the ol' funny cigarettes at each other's houses while watching hours upon hours of X-Files re-runs, mining them for creative ideas. If last week's 'Johari Window' was a curious mis-match of 'Home' and 'Our Town' (look 'em up kids, they're both a million times better than the Fringe attempt was), then 'What Lies Below' is a glorious bastardisation of 'F. Emasculata', 'Ice' and probably more than a few others that don't immediately spring to mind right now. The latter episode in particular is the closest comparative: in it, Mulder and Scully travel to the Arctic where a geological team are bashing each other's brains in after having drilled down to the Earth's core and inadvertently unearthed a parasite that has a penchant for infecting humans and desperately looking for new hosts before killing the current one. These lovely creatures are believed to have been dormant in the ice for thousands upon thousands of years. Everyone, including Mulder and Scully, is quarantined and the episode is spent focusing on finding some form of solution while also worrying about the possibility that the protagonists may be infected. Hmm. Glen Morgan and James Wong, methinks you may be owed some royalties. Actually, scratch that, 'Ice' is just a rip-off of The Thing anyway. Oh well. Originality is a myth and all that.
The crucial difference in 'What Lies Below', of course, is that one of our protagonists actually does become infected with the oh-so-deadly, super-misbehaving and remarkably intelligent virus, and then spends the better part of the episode stripped down to his Rab C. Nesbitt vest, throwing furniture at windows. Neither Mulder nor Scully ever sunk to that low, as far as I'm aware (although the lack of clothing is another matter...) Anyway, this would be fine if it allowed Joshua Jackson some room to maneouvre, or the opportunity to further explore the machinations of Peter's character, and his relationship with Olivia, when placed in dire peril. This is exactly what the aforementioned episode of The X Files does so well, as the focus is not on the intricacies of the virus/parasite plot but is instead on the interplay between the quarantined individuals, on the way that their relationships with one another break down when trust begins to dissipate. The essential concept on offer here gives plenty scope for this sort of thing but sadly, aside from a few choice glances and dramatic pauses between Olivia and Peter when he slips in the dead guy's blood, and some stock hysteria from the trapped office workers, the onus is squarely on the identification and obliteration of the virus. It's more than a little disappointing; arguably, the script would be better served by keeping Astrid and Walter in the background, with only the occasional glimpse into their work, and allowing Olivia and Peter's ordeal to take centre stage.
Even more problematically, as with virtually all television writers, Jeff Vlaming seems to think that the best way to keep us all in suspense, to have us biting our fingernails as the story unfolds, is to threaten the life of one of the show's regular characters. Yes, because it isn't obvious that Joshua Jackson has a permanent contract until at least the end of the season, if not beyond, and that therefore, there is absolutely no way that he is ever in any danger of becoming a victim of the virus. Why not throw Astrid in there with Olivia? Infect her? That way, we might actually buy into the drama of the situation... hell, the actress would get a chance to showcase her talents too and maybe, just maybe, a little character development. But no; instead, Vlaming takes the obvious route and it's very difficult to buy into. It certainly doesn't help that the solution is magically hypothesised (the show's favourite word, that) by Walter in around ten seconds flat, when he suddenly makes the incredible logic leap from knowing nothing about the virus at all to understanding its inhernet nature after just a few short words with Astrid... just in time to save his son and prevent the evil, evil CDC from laying everyone in the place to waste. Phew! What a stroke of good luck, eh? How this sort of unforgivably lazy writing is allowed to make it to screen is frankly beyond me.
So what good is there in 'What Lies Below'? Well, the production values are top notch as usual; the visualisation of the effects of the virus is particularly effective and genuinely unnerving, and the sequence in which the infected lady leaps to her death out of the seventeenth (or whatever) story window is superbly executed. John Noble gets a chance to shine again as he verbally lays waste to the CDC's head honcho, and puts in a beautifully fearful performance when he's testing his son for the virus. And, from the looks of the latest communicative misstep from Walter, it seems like we might be approaching the big revelation about Peter's parallel universe past... you know, sometime before the end of the season. Or it would be nice, at least.
'What Lies Below' suffers considerably as a result of its premise. Effectively, this is a rip-off of a rip-off, owing far too much to The X Files' 'Ice' (which owes a great deal to The Thing, in turn), 'F. Emasculata' and countless other episodes of numerous science fiction shows for it to maintain the viewer's interest. We really have been here and done that so many times before that, in order for the episode to really entertain, Vlaming's script needs to contain something refreshing, a offer a new twist to the tale but sadly, it never comes. Instead, we are expected to buy into the possibility that Peter may die when it is glaringly obvious that it will never happen, and a boatload of opportunity for character development between he and Olivia is wasted in order to have Walter magically put all the pieces together in no time at all. This feels very much like Vlaming was struggling to come up with a concept and fell back on a standard without really thinking the logistics through. Come to think of it, didn't the guy write for The X Files back in its third season? Yeah actually, I think he did... 6.1
213: 'The Bishop Revival'
Wr: Glen Whitman & Robert Chiappetta
Dr: Adam Davidson
Synopsis: Unseen killers target a wedding with a toxin that targets specific individuals, and Walter discovers that the case may be tied to a branch on the Bishop family tree.
Review: One day, Fringe will present its viewers with a case in which no one, not Olivia, not Peter, not Broyles, no one, has any connection to the events in question or the antagonist responsible whatso-bleeding-ever. Since the show returned from its Christmas hiatus, we've had Walter just so happen to have worked on Project Elephant, the experiment that ultimately laid genetic waste to the town of Edina, Peter and Olivia have become trapped in a building containing a deadly virus, thereby amping up the stakes for Walter as he tries desperately to rescue them, and now, as a barking mad Nazi tries to 'purify' the human race and create Das Herrenvolk through the means that science has now opened up to him, we discover that it was actually Walter's father, the esteemed Roger Bischoff, who conceived of the science and technology that would be involved in the first place! Honestly, the amount of significant scientific discoveries and important milestone projects that the Bishop family have been involved in collectively over the last sixty or seventy years is bloody astounding. They should give them some sort of Guiness Book of World Records entry or something.
And of course, I jest, but it would be nice to see a story in which Walter has no previous connection to any element of the plot whatsoever, if for no other reason than it would force the writing staff to start thinking outside of the box and not allow them to simply pull out the 'Bishop knows something!' card every time they write themselves into a corner. And to be fair, its inclusion in 'The Bishop Revival' actually isn't all that bad. Unlike in certain recent episodes, it does open the door to some interesting character development, particularly for Noble. This is the first time we've seen Walter this deeply invested in something for a considerable amount of time; to the extent, in fact, that he becomes furious with Peter when he learns that his son sold the books containing the theoretical formula. This is a beautifully written scene, full of anger, regret and remorse, and pleasingly, it runs continually as an undercurrent in all of their subsequent scenes, until paid off in the closing moments. Jackson and Noble have such incredible antagonistic chemistry that it's a surprise they don't do this sort of thing more often... although it's looking likely that a similar sort of situation will arise once Peter finds out that, actually, he's totally from another dimension or something. There's also a great deal to be said for Walter's ultimate decision to murder the man responsible for the series of killings; this is a new and very dark development for the character but refreshingly, it seems to fit. The viewer understands his motives and appreciates the conclusion, however predictable it may be (as soon as Walter starts looking shiftily around that basement, it's perfectly obvious what he's going to do.)
Similarly, while it is clear from the moment that the 'Holocaust survivor' trope is married to the 'brown eyes' experiment that the objective is to create the Aryan race, the predictability factor is offset somewhat by the horror of the central concept. Once again, the writing staff work wonders with the teaser sequence, keeping the outcome fairly oblique but maintaining an undercurrent of inevitable tension that is brought to fruition wonderfully when Nana starts choking to death while walking down the aisle. Setting the scene at a wedding is a wonderfully macabre, twisted touch, and the District 9/Cloverfield-esque flitting between handheld recordings and steady camera (metatextuality and textuality) gives it an unsettlingly realistic feel. Subsequent scenes in the coffee shop and at the abandoned back alley are also well executed, harbouring enough dramatic weight and grizzly shock value to keep everyone satisfied. The key problem, though, is that these scenes never feel quite enough. Even with the addition of a link to Walter's past, and the barrier this throws up between father and son, the episode often feels like it's treading water, biding its time before the conclusion can be reached. There are nice set pieces, sure, and the character development is spot on, but both viewer and protagonist reach a complete understanding of events way too soon, so the plot simply shifts to auto-pilot before the big denouement. It's a shame really, since the story has the makings of a very good stand alone; it's just a shame the writers couldn't take that next step.
'The Bishop Revival' is a definite improvement on Fringe's recent stand alone offerings. There is a genuinely intriguing concept at the heart of the story that is executed well and provides much opportunity for discussion, while the additional scope for character development that is offered to both Walter and Peter pays dividends since it allows us to see aspects of both characters that haven't previously been explored in great detail. Where the episode falters is in both its reliance on a connection to Walter's past, which has been greatly overused of late, and, more importantly, in the lightweight aspects of certain elements of the narrative. At times, there just isn't enough here to keep the momentum going and as a result, the viewer's attention inevitably wanders. Still, this is certainly a good effort and at least it isn't just ripping off The X Files again. Probably. 7.2
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