707: '2pm - 3pm'
Teleplay: Manny Coto & Brannon Braga
Story: Michael Loceff
Dr: Milan Cheylov
Synopsis: Dubaku begins another strike against a chemical plant in Kidron, Ohio, but his plans are cut short when Jack's team arrives at his hideout. Janis helps the plant manager avoid any casualties by manually overriding the valves. Meanwhile, Ethan becomes increasingly concerned about the whereabouts of the First Gentleman and informs the president that Henry is missing. Dubaku orders Henry brought to him to use as leverage.
Review: Prepare yourselves for an about turn ladies and gentlemen because season seven of 24 just tied up its central narrative strand after seven episodes and if my maths is correct, there's another seventeen hours to go. Michael Loceff's script manages to shift the emphasis of the season away from the horror of the WONDER DEVICE THAT CONTROLS EVERYTHING and towards the politics of governmental corruption by destroying the gizmo in a wonderfully executed shoot-out sequence in which our heroes get to kick ass, take names and fail miserably to capture Dubaku, despite annihilating everything else within sight. Oh well, I suppose they had to keep the terror levels stoked somehow, right? Shame it means connecting this narrative with the First Gentleman's because if we spend the next seven hours desperately trying to rescue the poor sod while the President whines, I might throw things at my TV. Still, that's a little harsh: at least it (hopefully) puts an end to the whole 'paralysis thing and signals the start of something more substantial for poor Colm. And to be fair to the writers, at least this is fairly original; it hasn't really been done too many times before. Nor, for that matter, has the aborting of terrorist activity. While the 'chemical release' plot is arguably a show staple, and the whole 'sympathise with the brave plant manager' thing was about as predictable as a Pendulum album, the overall narrative was salvaged by the decision to have Dubaku back down, to withdraw and regroup. This has subsequently opened up a rather intriguing narrative avenue, as the FBI and the White House desperately fumble around in the dark, completely oblivious to the reality of what is occurring. Of course, this will soon be rectified with the marriage of the Bauer and Presidential narratives (nice of them to keep Tony out of the way of this one and reaffirm his mild bad ass credentials) but all the same, it makes for some captivating viewing. Oh, and then there's Dubaku's missus... when will these women ever learn? From the Presidential aide banging Alexis Drazen in season one to the First Lady in season five, the show seems to be littered with innocent individuals blinded to their significant other's inherently evil nature. I mean come on... are you really telling me she hasn't noticed his furrowed brow? His sinister tone? The way he angrily addresses EVERYONE HE SPEAKS TO?! Or has he put on his nicey-nicey voice every time he's spoken to his fellow terrorists on the phone when in his girlfriend's diner? Nah, sorry, don't buy that for one second.
Aside from this gripe, there isn't much to criticise in '2pm - 3pm'. Loceff's script is a decidedly solid and cohesive effort, concentrating firmly on one excellently orchestrated narrative strand and generating a truckload of tension, suspense and intrigue as a result. The cogs begin to turn on the season-long plot and we see the beginning of a shift in dramatic emphasis, suggesting that next week's episode could be a bit of a corker. I honestly don't really know where they're gonna go next. But I can't wait to find out. 8.6
708: '3pm - 4pm'
Teleplay: Robert Cochran & Evan Katz
Story: David Fury
Dr: Milan Cheylov
Synopsis: Jack and Bill win an audience with the President in order to secure the necessary clearance to continue their hunt for Dubaku. Dubaku counterstrikes by kidnapping Henry and using him as bait to force President Taylor to withdraw her troops from Sangala. Renee has to make a terrible choice when she holds the family of one of Dubaku's associates at gunpoint to obtain his whereabouts.
Review: Remember the writers' strike? Oh it was so long ago now, it's so easy to forget the months of desperate turmoil we spent, praying to the televisual Gods above that the execs would just fork out the cash so that our favourite shows could continue running and we wouldn't be bereft of new material until 2009. Well, it did come to a conclusion after a while but sadly, not quick enough to save 24, which had produced a meagre eight episodes of its seventh season before the shit hit the fan. The production crew decided it would be fruitless to try to produce the remainder at such short notice and pointless to give the viewing audience half a season (well, it would betray the show's concept entirely). So they shelved the eight and waited, bided their time, produced the rest of the season and laid off broadcast until this sodding year. Meaning, of course, that there was no 24 in 2008. Bummer.
The significance for you and I, dear reader, is that this is episode eight: the last to be filmed prior to the writers' strike. It will be interesting to see just how different everyone looks or, perhaps, what ulterior direction(s) the show will go in next week, if any. Curiously, this instalment, like the one before it, seems to signal an impending shift in the direction of the narrative, acting as the culmination of the first stage of Dubaku's plans. The CIP device is gone, Henry Taylor is back in the hands of the good guys (albeit shot... OMG! Think he'll die? No way, mofos! Renee's up and about after that brutal neck wound and BEING BURIED ALIVE, with just a plaster on her neck... Taylor's gonna be fine) and the terrorist threat is apparently nulified, if you are to believe the White House anyway, which it seems that irritating pissweasel Sean JUST ISN'T WILLING TO DO. "We're being kept in the dark!", "what's going on?", wah wah. You'd think, as an FBI agent, he'd understand that sometimes, operations/developments need to be kept under the radar for a reason and that he is not going to know everything all of the time. Ah but you see, his objections are just a convenient plot device to expose Moss' involvement in the cover operation to more grunts and, eventually, to have the mole exposed. And that's exactly how it feels when viewed, which is the polar opposite of what it should be. Unless, of course, Sean is the mole, in which case his actions are actually rather clever. Hmm. Judgment reserved. For now.
Casting this potential grumble aside, '3pm - 4pm' does come across as a refreshingly cohesive episode, predicated solely on the retrieval of Taylor within an alloted timeframe. This is something that 24 does exceedingly well when it rolls itn out: elevating dramatic tension by keeping the viewer tied to the clock within the hour. We are aware, painfully, of the ever diminishing timespan that Bauer has to find the guy and this suspense bukds as the seconds tick down. It's a simple but completely effective dramatic technique and one that should be used more often. Pleasingly, the whining about Henry is kept to a minimum and Cherry Jones does a stellar job of selling her unenviable moral dilemma, particularly in the scene in which Dubaku first contacts her. On the rescue operation front, Kiefer is top notch as always: from 'ask around' to 'are you gonna give me your keys or not?', this episode is packed with blassic Bauerisms, one liners that have you punching the air with glee. Yeah, stick it to 'em Jack, you tell those namby pamby idiots that no one's playing by their rules! Go on, stare the President in the face and give her a 'with all due respect' when she questions your loyalties! Go Bauer, go Bauer, go... *ahem*
And go Renee too. Check out the way she turns from reluctant, law-abiding FBI agent to FULL BLOWN INSANITY MACHINE as she threatens Vossler's wife and child with considerable venom. Comes rather easily, no? Sudden change of personality, you think? Little bit unbelievable, maybe? Well yeah, but it kinda rules all the same. It's a brilliant sequence, even if I don't buy that she'd actually do it, and it is tempered a little with her emotive moment with Jack in the aftermath. And speaking of emotive moments, can I get a wholehearted 'meh!' for Sean and HIS BINT, please? No one cares guys, keep these agency psycho-politics to a minimum, would ya? Thankfully, Dubaku's love interest element isn't too bad but you just know that he's gonna kill lovely Rosa, that the girlfriend will find her, go to the FBI and that's how they'll start to track him down again. Perhaps it's just becoming a bit too easy to read 24 after seven years...
A strong episode on the whole and one that feels confident due to its concentration on a single narrative element: finding Henry Taylor. There are some less than stellar elements - occasional narrative distractions, a few convenient developments - but generally, this remains encouragingly solid stuff. And if they've had about a year to prepare the next run, I can't wait to see what they can give us next. Optimism: am I a fool to covet thee? 8.7
709: '4pm - 5pm'
Wr: David Fury
Dr: Milan Cheylov
Synopsis: Jack and Renee track a lead to Dubaku's unsuspecting girlfriend, who, after learning of his true motives, agrees to help lead them to Dubaku before he flees the country. Meanwhile, Chloe O'Brian is brought in to the FBI to run tactical, but her progress is thwarted by a mole inside the agency. President Taylor is stunned to hear that her husband has been shot and is escorted to the hospital by Bill. She requests that her daughter be brought in, a task which Bill delegates to an old friend.
Review: And so we begin the post-writers' strike batch of the season with a fresh batch of narrative strands, a few loose ends tied up and a rather unexpected revelation. Everyone manages to look slightly different to their first eight episode selves - you can mostly tell by the hair length, particularly on Renee and Larry - but then, I suppose this is a change we're just going to have to accept. One thing that hasn't changed, however, is the quality of the writing. David Fury's script is a thoroughly entertaining story reboot, sparkling at points with intelligent, well-written dialogue and some superbly pitched pacing.
While '4pm - 5pm' essentially consists of the movement of narrative pieces around a board, manouevering individuals into position for the various new directions that the programme is about to take, it manages to successfully hide this fact by virtue of its originality. First, with the plot having effectively culminated at the end of the last hour with little or no loose ends, it is difficult to predict the avenues down which the show will turn. Second, the decision to introduce Chloe into the FBI HQ is an absolute stroke of genius. Not only does it promise an utterly spectacular showdown between she and Janine Garofolo (all those stares between rooms speak volumes), but it also gives a completely fresh take o the 'introducing a new element to the standard mix' plot trope. In past seasons, 24 has often taken the (sometimes necessary, sometimes not) route of bringing an outside source into CTU to oversee developments. This frequently creates a great whack of tension betwen our favourite, loveable characters and the new guy(s). Here, Fury flips the whole thing on its head by reversing the process. Chloe, the familiar character, the one we trust and have come to love, is introduced to the new locale and we are able to witness the phonomenon from the ulterior perspective. This gives the narrative a feeling of originality and opens up a whole new arena of possibility. Third, there is the mole revelation. While everyone and his dog thought something was up with Sean since minute one of hour one, no one actually believed he would be the dirty one. It was just too damn predictable: I mean, they were only trying to throw us off the scent regarding the real mole, right? Well actually, they were doing something far cleverer: orchestrating a double bluff. They made it so obvious that we ruled him out altogether and now we're eating our words in the process. It's perhaps the only successful way left of pulling the wool over all of our eyes... well, save for Jack being the bad guy and that.
This particular revelation is also tied in with a wonderfully executed sequence in the midst of Dubaku's girlfriend's journey to their rendezvous. This element in itself is perhaps the most telegraphed of the hour - it's obvious from the moment Jack and Renee burst through the door that she's going to be used as bait in an effort to capture Ike (this was a nice, 'jump out of your skin' moment though) - but the police's interception of Jack and Renee is completely unexpected and adds a distinct air of uncertainty to the trajectory of the next episode. With the two heroes stalled at present, will Dubaku manage to do off his lover and escape? Or will the police release them within the nick of time? For the sake of my sanity, I hope it's the former.
Other points worthy of note here include the President's decision to be with her husband, which is a deftly believable and very human touch. Where previous heads of state may have been swayed by their advisors to remain in office 'for the good of the country', Taylor follows her gut and gives us some lovely emotive scenes to boot. Then there's the respective returns of Aaron Pierce and Morris O'Brien: thankfully, these are restricted to cameo appearances rather than full blown introductions to the season-long narrative and they're more than welcome for it. An dfinally, we have a minor cause for celebration in the defective nature of the technology in FBI HQ which, for once, makes it so that Chloe is unable to solve everything with a quick fix. Just another example of some neat out-of-the-box thinking that makes the narrative seem fresh. Oh and did anyone else spot David Fury, the episode's writer, making an appearance as the businessman that the President's daughter is trying to win over? No? Oh well.
With so little to pick holes in, '4pm - 5pm' can only be considered something of a success. While it's hardly a rip-roaring action fest, some strong writing and original narrative touches elevate it above standard 24 fare and make the episode a thoroughly entertaining and rewarding ride. Let's hope this strength is inherent in the remainder of the season. 8.7
Saturday, 21 February 2009
Reviews: Heroes 314/315/316
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
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
Reviews: Fringe 113/114
113: 'The Transformation'
Wr: J.R. Orci & Zack Whedon
Dr: Brad Anderson
Synopsis: Olivia and Peter go undercover to investigate after the discovery of bizarre remains at a jumbo jet's crash site.
Review: So, Zack Whedon, eh? Yup, you guessed it folks, that's Joss' brother; you know, the one whose new show is about to premiere on US TV and all the critics appear to be giving it a bit of a slamming. Zack has nothing to worry about though because 'The Transformation' is the best episode of Fringe in a while and sees the show taking an about turn from the nosedive it looked set to take in the wake of its return to our screens a few weeks ago. The annoying FBI agent intent on ruining Olivia's career is pushed to the wayside. The irritating sister and daughter, there only to give the show a chance to have a few schmaltzy heart to heart moments? Barely to be seen and when she is, it's actually relevant to the overall plot. The overall plot, meanwhile, actually offers the viewer answers (shock of shocks!) and, even more remarkably, appears to put to bed the whole John Scott narrative. Well I never! I thought we'd be clinging onto the one for at least another four seasons. And while I'm certainly not convinced that we've seen the last of the bugger, it's encouraging that the programme is at least tying the loose ends up so that it wouldn't be a bone of contention if we didn't. Thus, he tells Olivia what he was doing while she's in that bloody tank again, Massive Dynamic and Broyles reveal to Dunham that they've kept John's body and they actually explain what for, and, get this, Bishop tells her that her mind is successfully venting Scott's memories and that she'll soon be rid of him. To wit, she gets bank into the flaming tank and agrees to that marriage proposal he was always going to make. Awww. Well, that just about covers every dangling plot strand related to the whole ex-partner business and, for now at least, closes the door on this avenue. I couldn't be happier. It was, after all, more than a little contrived and essentially simply a distraction from the business of Pattern-related case solving.
Speaking of which, the investigation is pretty neatly handled this week. The premise is deliciously disgusting, its continued execution delightfully disturbing (the teeth removal on the plane is just... euck) and that undercover scene is decidedly dramatic: you could cut yourself on the tension in that one, even if it is obvious that the black ops guy is going to have another virus-induced spasm before he can reveal the crucial information. Much, much better than recent efforts this and, encouragingly, it seems to close a few less desirable narrative doors rather firmly. Let's hope this is a sign of things to come. 8.7
114: 'Ability'
Wr: Roberta Chiappetta, Glen Whitman & David H. Goodman
Dr: Norberto Barba
Synopsis: The team investigates a bizarre incident where the victim's facial orifices closed over, leaving him a faceless corpse. Meanwhile, Mr. Jones turns himself over to the authorities but refuses to speak unless Olivia passes a very particular test for him.
Review: I hate American television networks. They have absolutely no idea how to handle a show successfully; instead, they adopt ludicrous scheduling initiatives that cause programmes to be on air, off air, here, there and everywhere and then they have the temerity to get themselves in a tizz about dwindling ratings. It's no wonder new shows struggle when they have the kind of stop-start track record that Fringe has suffered in its freshman year. It was off our screens for a month and a half to accommodate Christmas and now, after four short weeks, it's gone until April. APRIL! Two months away! Is it any wonder that the casual viewer loses patience and switches over, never to be seen again?
To be fair to Fringe, the production staff do an utterly stellar job of trying to encourage people to actually come back sixty or so days down the line. 'Ability' is the best episode of the series since the mind-meltingly bizarre 'Safe', full of cryptic mythology-baiting, sinister terrorist-like plot threads and, most encouragingly of all, some concrete answers regarding the series' overall direction. Obviously, any episode that features the delectable Mr. Jones so heavily is bound to be a winner and this is no exception. He oozes weird, keeping you questioning his every move and word... not entirely unlike Ben, the fantastic antagonist from that other little show produced by J.J. Abrams. He and Ms Dunham have excellent chemistry and play exceedingly well off one another: the scene in the prison cell after he jams the surveillance equipment is nail-bitingly brilliant. This level of dramatic tension is maintained admirably throughout the episode as it is so densely layered with plot. Not only do we have Mr. Jones turning himself in (nice nod to Alias, guys: Sidney's mom, anyone?) and some kooky expo regarding ZFT, but there's a little case to investigate that's marvellously disturbing too (I don't know about you, but the idea of suffocating due to your orifices sealing themselves shut really freaks me out). Cleverly, all of these disparate elements are ultimately connected, giving the narrative a strong cohesive weight and they are peppered with some intriguing insights too. We find out what ZFT is, have a hit at Walter's possible involvement in the production of the manuscript (although, it's only his typewriter's 'y's that are unaligned, just like in the text... I suppose anyone could have typed the words!), discover the reason (sort of) for Olivia's spinal tap and abduction and, try this one on for size, have the potential overview of the entire season-spanning mythology handed to us on a plate. Two co-existing realities converging, duking it out to 'win' the right to supremacy? Essentially, a parallel universe story? Well, I'll buy into that and then some. Sounds fascinating, holds such promise and, crucially, it hasn't really been done before. If the suggestions made here are correct, this makes Fringe a completely different ball game and I, for one, am stoked to see where it takes us.
So 'Ability' works for me, then. My interest is piqued, I'm raving about the show again and I will definitely be returning for more in April. Let's just hope the viewing public were equally as convinced. 9.2
Wr: J.R. Orci & Zack Whedon
Dr: Brad Anderson
Synopsis: Olivia and Peter go undercover to investigate after the discovery of bizarre remains at a jumbo jet's crash site.
Review: So, Zack Whedon, eh? Yup, you guessed it folks, that's Joss' brother; you know, the one whose new show is about to premiere on US TV and all the critics appear to be giving it a bit of a slamming. Zack has nothing to worry about though because 'The Transformation' is the best episode of Fringe in a while and sees the show taking an about turn from the nosedive it looked set to take in the wake of its return to our screens a few weeks ago. The annoying FBI agent intent on ruining Olivia's career is pushed to the wayside. The irritating sister and daughter, there only to give the show a chance to have a few schmaltzy heart to heart moments? Barely to be seen and when she is, it's actually relevant to the overall plot. The overall plot, meanwhile, actually offers the viewer answers (shock of shocks!) and, even more remarkably, appears to put to bed the whole John Scott narrative. Well I never! I thought we'd be clinging onto the one for at least another four seasons. And while I'm certainly not convinced that we've seen the last of the bugger, it's encouraging that the programme is at least tying the loose ends up so that it wouldn't be a bone of contention if we didn't. Thus, he tells Olivia what he was doing while she's in that bloody tank again, Massive Dynamic and Broyles reveal to Dunham that they've kept John's body and they actually explain what for, and, get this, Bishop tells her that her mind is successfully venting Scott's memories and that she'll soon be rid of him. To wit, she gets bank into the flaming tank and agrees to that marriage proposal he was always going to make. Awww. Well, that just about covers every dangling plot strand related to the whole ex-partner business and, for now at least, closes the door on this avenue. I couldn't be happier. It was, after all, more than a little contrived and essentially simply a distraction from the business of Pattern-related case solving.
Speaking of which, the investigation is pretty neatly handled this week. The premise is deliciously disgusting, its continued execution delightfully disturbing (the teeth removal on the plane is just... euck) and that undercover scene is decidedly dramatic: you could cut yourself on the tension in that one, even if it is obvious that the black ops guy is going to have another virus-induced spasm before he can reveal the crucial information. Much, much better than recent efforts this and, encouragingly, it seems to close a few less desirable narrative doors rather firmly. Let's hope this is a sign of things to come. 8.7
114: 'Ability'
Wr: Roberta Chiappetta, Glen Whitman & David H. Goodman
Dr: Norberto Barba
Synopsis: The team investigates a bizarre incident where the victim's facial orifices closed over, leaving him a faceless corpse. Meanwhile, Mr. Jones turns himself over to the authorities but refuses to speak unless Olivia passes a very particular test for him.
Review: I hate American television networks. They have absolutely no idea how to handle a show successfully; instead, they adopt ludicrous scheduling initiatives that cause programmes to be on air, off air, here, there and everywhere and then they have the temerity to get themselves in a tizz about dwindling ratings. It's no wonder new shows struggle when they have the kind of stop-start track record that Fringe has suffered in its freshman year. It was off our screens for a month and a half to accommodate Christmas and now, after four short weeks, it's gone until April. APRIL! Two months away! Is it any wonder that the casual viewer loses patience and switches over, never to be seen again?
To be fair to Fringe, the production staff do an utterly stellar job of trying to encourage people to actually come back sixty or so days down the line. 'Ability' is the best episode of the series since the mind-meltingly bizarre 'Safe', full of cryptic mythology-baiting, sinister terrorist-like plot threads and, most encouragingly of all, some concrete answers regarding the series' overall direction. Obviously, any episode that features the delectable Mr. Jones so heavily is bound to be a winner and this is no exception. He oozes weird, keeping you questioning his every move and word... not entirely unlike Ben, the fantastic antagonist from that other little show produced by J.J. Abrams. He and Ms Dunham have excellent chemistry and play exceedingly well off one another: the scene in the prison cell after he jams the surveillance equipment is nail-bitingly brilliant. This level of dramatic tension is maintained admirably throughout the episode as it is so densely layered with plot. Not only do we have Mr. Jones turning himself in (nice nod to Alias, guys: Sidney's mom, anyone?) and some kooky expo regarding ZFT, but there's a little case to investigate that's marvellously disturbing too (I don't know about you, but the idea of suffocating due to your orifices sealing themselves shut really freaks me out). Cleverly, all of these disparate elements are ultimately connected, giving the narrative a strong cohesive weight and they are peppered with some intriguing insights too. We find out what ZFT is, have a hit at Walter's possible involvement in the production of the manuscript (although, it's only his typewriter's 'y's that are unaligned, just like in the text... I suppose anyone could have typed the words!), discover the reason (sort of) for Olivia's spinal tap and abduction and, try this one on for size, have the potential overview of the entire season-spanning mythology handed to us on a plate. Two co-existing realities converging, duking it out to 'win' the right to supremacy? Essentially, a parallel universe story? Well, I'll buy into that and then some. Sounds fascinating, holds such promise and, crucially, it hasn't really been done before. If the suggestions made here are correct, this makes Fringe a completely different ball game and I, for one, am stoked to see where it takes us.
So 'Ability' works for me, then. My interest is piqued, I'm raving about the show again and I will definitely be returning for more in April. Let's just hope the viewing public were equally as convinced. 9.2
Friday, 20 February 2009
Review: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles 214
214: 'The Good Wound'
Wr: Ashley Edward Miller & Zack Stentz
Dr: Jeff Woolnough
Synopsis: Sarah gains strength from images of Kyle Reese, John's father, while she's hurt. Weaver attempts to save John Henry.
Review: Okay, look. I know I should be praising the bravery of this show's production crew; I understand that what they are trying to do is somewhat unprecedented in action/sci-fi drama and that no, we don't need endless gun battles and all out action fests to make a show work. Character is the crux of any programme worth its salt because it is this that we identify with. The people are what make us come back week in, week out because we want to explore their lives, to understand their plight and to see hwo they cope with the action arounmd them. Concentrating squarely on character, then, is by no means a bad idea. Just look at Battlestar Galactica: it has essentially built its well-deserved reputation on exploring the minutiae of its key players, on discovering what makes them tick and three-dimensionalising them to the point where you're actually uncomfortable with how much you know about them. But you see, Galactica also understands that you cannot develop character without delving into action. Events have to occur in order for there to be ways into their psyches. Terminator, it seems, has trouble with this concept.
Now all right, so things happened in 'Earthlings Welcome Here'. But what things? Um, Sarah met a woman-cum-man-cum-woman, drove to a warehouse and, er, ended up flat on her back staring up at at what appeared to be a UFO. Riley tried to commit suicide. Derek... did nothing. John... did nothing. Ellison had a religious debate with John Henry. Riveting. Really. For a mid-season finale, it was bitterly, bitterly disappointing. So many unresolved strands are begging, pleading, for the writers' attention and they are routinely ignored in favour of exploring some minor, generally insignificant (or just plain obvious) facet of one of the main characters' psychological make-up. Which is fine for the occasional episode but when it's every flipping week, it starts to become a little frustrating.
I mean, really, what happens in 'The Good Wound'? Sarah wakes up in hospital, for Christ's sake. No mention of what happened to her after the 'UFO' began to descend, how she got there, nothing. That whole strand, the bleeding cliffhanger, is tossed to the wayside. The only chance we get to explore any of that is in the episode's one top notch scene: Weaver's obliteration of the warehouse (excellent effects guys, by the way). Instead, we spend forty five minutes watching Sarah have a heart to heart with a hospital nurse that she kidnapped as she treats her wound. Oh and she hallucinates Kyle. So they talk. And talk. And oh, she's so tortured! Oh, she can't let anyone in because the world thinks she's a psycho so she puts up a front but oh, she's really this delicate little flower who just wants a friend and her son and her husband and to be loved and oh! Calamity! The meaningfulness of it all! Um, no, frankly. We know this stuff already. Sure, it's nice to finally see Kyle in The Sarah Connor Chronicles universe but why of why must we keep the brakes on and ponder Sarah's fragile emotional state, her 'situation', for the umpteenth fucking week in a row?
And as for John, phew, don't get me started. Once again, Dekker has nothing to do except worry about Riley. Cameron is completely superfluous. Derek runs between the two plot strands, trying to liven things up but failing miserably. And Riley/Jesse... um, we find out that she slit her wrists for John's affections (hmm... suspect this may be a little economical with the truth) and she leaves the hospital. That's it. Seriously. That's the plot. The only other distraction we're given is a little piece with John Henry that, once again, is full of religious mumbo-jumbo, although the scene with Weaver is a nice, slightly sinister, touch. Seriously, how is ANY of this supposed to engage a viewing audience?
I'm the last person to pour scorn on a show simpy because it puts character at centre stage: arguably, plot should derive from character, not the other way round. The Sarah Connor Chronicles, however, seems to eschew the idea of plot altogether on a weekly basis and, instead, spends its time navel-gazing, pondering the same psychological questions week in, week out, and ignorning the fact that there are a whole tonne of dangling narrative threads still crying out to be addressed. 'The Good Wound' does nothing, it goes nowhere and apart from a couple of the Weaver scenes, is about as interesting as watching paint dry. So Sarah opens up to someone? So what? Give us more. At the end of the day, the plot for this episode can be summarised thusly: Sarah and Riley have their wounds treated. Really. THAT'S IT. 4.5
Wr: Ashley Edward Miller & Zack Stentz
Dr: Jeff Woolnough
Synopsis: Sarah gains strength from images of Kyle Reese, John's father, while she's hurt. Weaver attempts to save John Henry.
Review: Okay, look. I know I should be praising the bravery of this show's production crew; I understand that what they are trying to do is somewhat unprecedented in action/sci-fi drama and that no, we don't need endless gun battles and all out action fests to make a show work. Character is the crux of any programme worth its salt because it is this that we identify with. The people are what make us come back week in, week out because we want to explore their lives, to understand their plight and to see hwo they cope with the action arounmd them. Concentrating squarely on character, then, is by no means a bad idea. Just look at Battlestar Galactica: it has essentially built its well-deserved reputation on exploring the minutiae of its key players, on discovering what makes them tick and three-dimensionalising them to the point where you're actually uncomfortable with how much you know about them. But you see, Galactica also understands that you cannot develop character without delving into action. Events have to occur in order for there to be ways into their psyches. Terminator, it seems, has trouble with this concept.
Now all right, so things happened in 'Earthlings Welcome Here'. But what things? Um, Sarah met a woman-cum-man-cum-woman, drove to a warehouse and, er, ended up flat on her back staring up at at what appeared to be a UFO. Riley tried to commit suicide. Derek... did nothing. John... did nothing. Ellison had a religious debate with John Henry. Riveting. Really. For a mid-season finale, it was bitterly, bitterly disappointing. So many unresolved strands are begging, pleading, for the writers' attention and they are routinely ignored in favour of exploring some minor, generally insignificant (or just plain obvious) facet of one of the main characters' psychological make-up. Which is fine for the occasional episode but when it's every flipping week, it starts to become a little frustrating.
I mean, really, what happens in 'The Good Wound'? Sarah wakes up in hospital, for Christ's sake. No mention of what happened to her after the 'UFO' began to descend, how she got there, nothing. That whole strand, the bleeding cliffhanger, is tossed to the wayside. The only chance we get to explore any of that is in the episode's one top notch scene: Weaver's obliteration of the warehouse (excellent effects guys, by the way). Instead, we spend forty five minutes watching Sarah have a heart to heart with a hospital nurse that she kidnapped as she treats her wound. Oh and she hallucinates Kyle. So they talk. And talk. And oh, she's so tortured! Oh, she can't let anyone in because the world thinks she's a psycho so she puts up a front but oh, she's really this delicate little flower who just wants a friend and her son and her husband and to be loved and oh! Calamity! The meaningfulness of it all! Um, no, frankly. We know this stuff already. Sure, it's nice to finally see Kyle in The Sarah Connor Chronicles universe but why of why must we keep the brakes on and ponder Sarah's fragile emotional state, her 'situation', for the umpteenth fucking week in a row?
And as for John, phew, don't get me started. Once again, Dekker has nothing to do except worry about Riley. Cameron is completely superfluous. Derek runs between the two plot strands, trying to liven things up but failing miserably. And Riley/Jesse... um, we find out that she slit her wrists for John's affections (hmm... suspect this may be a little economical with the truth) and she leaves the hospital. That's it. Seriously. That's the plot. The only other distraction we're given is a little piece with John Henry that, once again, is full of religious mumbo-jumbo, although the scene with Weaver is a nice, slightly sinister, touch. Seriously, how is ANY of this supposed to engage a viewing audience?
I'm the last person to pour scorn on a show simpy because it puts character at centre stage: arguably, plot should derive from character, not the other way round. The Sarah Connor Chronicles, however, seems to eschew the idea of plot altogether on a weekly basis and, instead, spends its time navel-gazing, pondering the same psychological questions week in, week out, and ignorning the fact that there are a whole tonne of dangling narrative threads still crying out to be addressed. 'The Good Wound' does nothing, it goes nowhere and apart from a couple of the Weaver scenes, is about as interesting as watching paint dry. So Sarah opens up to someone? So what? Give us more. At the end of the day, the plot for this episode can be summarised thusly: Sarah and Riley have their wounds treated. Really. THAT'S IT. 4.5
Thursday, 19 February 2009
Reviews: Skins 303/304
303: 'Thomas'
Wr: Bryan Elsley & Daniel Kaluuya
Dr: Simon Massey
Synopsis: Thomas arrives from the Congo and finds himself homeless and penniless. He gets into trouble when he meets Johnny White. However, the gang find Thomas may be the answer to their problems when they realize he has one advantage over the sinister gangster. Chillies, anyone?
Review: Skins has the frustrating habit of forestalling the progression of its season-long narratives through the introduction, early into the year, of an additional character to the central gang that we've just become accustomed to, and, more crucially, by giving he or she their own episode. It happened with the somewhat questionable Sketch in season two and it happens again here with Thomas, the boy who has travelled from Africa to live in the glorious British Isles and soon discovers that it isn't exactly all it's cracked up to be... or at least, that finding a home really isn't. While it is a little irritating that we receive a diversion from the main plot focus so early in the season, and that nothing is really developed in relation to the ulterior strands (well, except for Emily and Naomi's fragile relationship which may well be somewhat one-sided), Thomas' hour largely works thanks to a combination of simultaneously witty and clever writing and a stellar performance from the actor playing him. This is essentially an allegory on the subject of immigration: while it is never outwardly expressed in the episode, verbally or thematically, the narratalogical content is sufficient to ensure that the point is put across, however subtly. Thomas is entering Britain from a foreign country with nowhere to live and no job. He is desperate to set up home, with however little he might be able to acquire (it will be significantly more than he had in his own country) and to begin to earn money in order to bring his family over and while he ultimately ends up doing so by unsavoury means, moralistically, there is little objectionable about his enterprising nature because he is being forced, unduly, to fork out ridiculous sums by a corrupt English 'gangster'. The people here force Thomas to look to the underbelly; it is not his natural inclination. And let's face it, you know you were egging the guy on, desperately wishing that his ploy would succeed and, when it nearly didn't, you were delighting at his good fortune in the gangster's 'showdown'. The character is unquestionably likeable: he gives Pandora something to set her mind to and her first experience of romance, puts the unruly school kids in their place and almost disrupts the fragile relationship between Effy's parents which is already significantly on the rocks. It's a shame he appears destined to return home, never to be seen again, but then, distance isn't something that has proved to be much of a handicap in Skins before. Certainly a solid effort on the whole and a bit of an improvement on last week, even if it does stall major developments from taking place (if you don't count Pandora's romance, that is). I'm still not too keen on the gangster strand but overall, Thomas' hour is a welcome contribution to Skins lore and his character a pleasing addition. And can we have more of him naked, please? That scene was surprisingly hot. 8.6
304: 'Pandora'
Wr: Bryan Elsley
Dr: Simon Massey
Synopsis: Pandora throws a party which descends into chaos with the arrival of Katie's drunken friends. Pandora, completely unaware of the ingredients, indulges in some special brownies causing her to lose all inhibitions and jeapordize her friendship with Effy.
Review: At last! High five Skins, you did it! After three weeks of solid-but-nothing-to-write-home-about instalments, the show really delivers with episode four, a veritable Pandora's box of delights, so wickedly delicious that you'll be guiltily flogging yourself for days for taking such delight in it. And yes, that horrific pun was intended. Pandora's episode, perhaps predictably, is the best of the bunch so far and it's thanks to a fantastically realised premise that screams 'potential!' from the get go and doesn't fail to deliver. Throw the gang together in a single location and predicate the proceedings on something outside of their conventional modus operandi and hey presto, you're onto a winner. In sending the girly girls to Pandora's scrummy-wummy super sweet seventeenth birthday party, where they're to play Twister, wear pyjamas and talk about boys, the writers hit pay dirt as the opportunities for conflict are endless. So first there's the doting, clearly mad mother (who explains Pandora to the nth degree); then we have Effy 'sparking' things up a bit thanks to her own somewhat messed up family life - the revelation of the affair is masterfully handled and did anyone else catch the Larkin reference? "They fuck you up, your mum and dad". "They don't mean to." "But they do." Priceless. This obviously brings a great deal of issues between the two best friends to the surface and allows for an onscreen acknowledgement of what we've all been thinking: that Effy and Panda's relationship is somewhat inexplicable and, frankly, weird. But it works. Such is life. I do question the sense in having Pandora lose her virginity to Cook, and Thomas' return is the most predictable thing I've seen all year, but I suspect this is due more to my personal dislike of the character than any reasonable objection.
Next up, the boys. Infiltrating the slumber party and causing all manner of havoc. Katie is clearly on course for getting her comeuppance for her generally twatty nature, specifically through her evidently adulterous boyfriend, but it is good to see her warm slightly to Naomi, even if that does look set to fall by the wayside now that she's seen her snogging her sister. Nicely done that, by the way. JJ also witnesses this somewhat tumultuous event first hand,bless him, and then 'locks on' when surrounded by so many drunken, loutish twatheads in Pandora's house. Interesting development this and one that is actually pulled off with a significant chunk of believability thanks to the boy's substantial acting skills. It's a nice touch having Freddie take care of him too and illustrates once more his crucial, but silent, role within the group.
Pandora's episode lacks a string of hyperbolic events and this is where it draws its considerable strength. While there are clearly exaggerated elements, the whole does not feel so OTT as to be unbelievable. Effectively, this is a straightforward story about a birthday party gone slightly wrong, that taps into the well of underlying character conflict and brings recent developments to the fore, taking them in new and at times, slightly unexpected directions. It three-dimensionalises a number of our central characters and offers several fantastically played scenes that address the psychological make-up of their inter-relations. While Thomas' return straight after Pandora finishes her sexy time with Cook is a huge groan-inducer, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts and the rest of the episode more than makes up for it. Certainly the best instalment so far this season... trust Pandora to bring everyone together, eh? 9.0
Wr: Bryan Elsley & Daniel Kaluuya
Dr: Simon Massey
Synopsis: Thomas arrives from the Congo and finds himself homeless and penniless. He gets into trouble when he meets Johnny White. However, the gang find Thomas may be the answer to their problems when they realize he has one advantage over the sinister gangster. Chillies, anyone?
Review: Skins has the frustrating habit of forestalling the progression of its season-long narratives through the introduction, early into the year, of an additional character to the central gang that we've just become accustomed to, and, more crucially, by giving he or she their own episode. It happened with the somewhat questionable Sketch in season two and it happens again here with Thomas, the boy who has travelled from Africa to live in the glorious British Isles and soon discovers that it isn't exactly all it's cracked up to be... or at least, that finding a home really isn't. While it is a little irritating that we receive a diversion from the main plot focus so early in the season, and that nothing is really developed in relation to the ulterior strands (well, except for Emily and Naomi's fragile relationship which may well be somewhat one-sided), Thomas' hour largely works thanks to a combination of simultaneously witty and clever writing and a stellar performance from the actor playing him. This is essentially an allegory on the subject of immigration: while it is never outwardly expressed in the episode, verbally or thematically, the narratalogical content is sufficient to ensure that the point is put across, however subtly. Thomas is entering Britain from a foreign country with nowhere to live and no job. He is desperate to set up home, with however little he might be able to acquire (it will be significantly more than he had in his own country) and to begin to earn money in order to bring his family over and while he ultimately ends up doing so by unsavoury means, moralistically, there is little objectionable about his enterprising nature because he is being forced, unduly, to fork out ridiculous sums by a corrupt English 'gangster'. The people here force Thomas to look to the underbelly; it is not his natural inclination. And let's face it, you know you were egging the guy on, desperately wishing that his ploy would succeed and, when it nearly didn't, you were delighting at his good fortune in the gangster's 'showdown'. The character is unquestionably likeable: he gives Pandora something to set her mind to and her first experience of romance, puts the unruly school kids in their place and almost disrupts the fragile relationship between Effy's parents which is already significantly on the rocks. It's a shame he appears destined to return home, never to be seen again, but then, distance isn't something that has proved to be much of a handicap in Skins before. Certainly a solid effort on the whole and a bit of an improvement on last week, even if it does stall major developments from taking place (if you don't count Pandora's romance, that is). I'm still not too keen on the gangster strand but overall, Thomas' hour is a welcome contribution to Skins lore and his character a pleasing addition. And can we have more of him naked, please? That scene was surprisingly hot. 8.6
304: 'Pandora'
Wr: Bryan Elsley
Dr: Simon Massey
Synopsis: Pandora throws a party which descends into chaos with the arrival of Katie's drunken friends. Pandora, completely unaware of the ingredients, indulges in some special brownies causing her to lose all inhibitions and jeapordize her friendship with Effy.
Review: At last! High five Skins, you did it! After three weeks of solid-but-nothing-to-write-home-about instalments, the show really delivers with episode four, a veritable Pandora's box of delights, so wickedly delicious that you'll be guiltily flogging yourself for days for taking such delight in it. And yes, that horrific pun was intended. Pandora's episode, perhaps predictably, is the best of the bunch so far and it's thanks to a fantastically realised premise that screams 'potential!' from the get go and doesn't fail to deliver. Throw the gang together in a single location and predicate the proceedings on something outside of their conventional modus operandi and hey presto, you're onto a winner. In sending the girly girls to Pandora's scrummy-wummy super sweet seventeenth birthday party, where they're to play Twister, wear pyjamas and talk about boys, the writers hit pay dirt as the opportunities for conflict are endless. So first there's the doting, clearly mad mother (who explains Pandora to the nth degree); then we have Effy 'sparking' things up a bit thanks to her own somewhat messed up family life - the revelation of the affair is masterfully handled and did anyone else catch the Larkin reference? "They fuck you up, your mum and dad". "They don't mean to." "But they do." Priceless. This obviously brings a great deal of issues between the two best friends to the surface and allows for an onscreen acknowledgement of what we've all been thinking: that Effy and Panda's relationship is somewhat inexplicable and, frankly, weird. But it works. Such is life. I do question the sense in having Pandora lose her virginity to Cook, and Thomas' return is the most predictable thing I've seen all year, but I suspect this is due more to my personal dislike of the character than any reasonable objection.
Next up, the boys. Infiltrating the slumber party and causing all manner of havoc. Katie is clearly on course for getting her comeuppance for her generally twatty nature, specifically through her evidently adulterous boyfriend, but it is good to see her warm slightly to Naomi, even if that does look set to fall by the wayside now that she's seen her snogging her sister. Nicely done that, by the way. JJ also witnesses this somewhat tumultuous event first hand,bless him, and then 'locks on' when surrounded by so many drunken, loutish twatheads in Pandora's house. Interesting development this and one that is actually pulled off with a significant chunk of believability thanks to the boy's substantial acting skills. It's a nice touch having Freddie take care of him too and illustrates once more his crucial, but silent, role within the group.
Pandora's episode lacks a string of hyperbolic events and this is where it draws its considerable strength. While there are clearly exaggerated elements, the whole does not feel so OTT as to be unbelievable. Effectively, this is a straightforward story about a birthday party gone slightly wrong, that taps into the well of underlying character conflict and brings recent developments to the fore, taking them in new and at times, slightly unexpected directions. It three-dimensionalises a number of our central characters and offers several fantastically played scenes that address the psychological make-up of their inter-relations. While Thomas' return straight after Pandora finishes her sexy time with Cook is a huge groan-inducer, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts and the rest of the episode more than makes up for it. Certainly the best instalment so far this season... trust Pandora to bring everyone together, eh? 9.0
Reviews: Supernatural 413/414
413: 'After School Special'
Wr: Daniel Loflin & Andrew Dabb
Dr: Adam Kane
Synopsis: Sam and Dean investigate a haunting at one of the high schools they attended as teenagers.
Review: Regrettably, my enjoyment of 'After School Special' was coloured somewhat by the discovery of the passing of Kim Manners, one of Supernatural's executive producers and a highly prolific director, who manned many of the show's greatest episodes, including this season's superlative opener, 'Lazarus Rising'. Manners was fighting lung cancer but continued to work on the show, demonstrating that his heart was always concerned with doing the best that he could for others. His skill as a director knew no bounds as his work always managed to be the most innovative, prolific and, above all, downright scary. He knew exactly which buttons to press and which avenues to take when creating that tough little critter called fear. Manners worked on The X Files for the duration of its nine years and was continually called upon by creator Chris Carter to helm those episodes that needed a more deft touch, that desired to get you right behind the sofa. It's because of this that Eric Kripke called the guy up immediately upon the birth of his televisual baby and demanded that he work on the show. Naturally, Kim obliged. At 59, it's a damn shame that the guy's career was cut short when it should have had so many more years and many more Supernatural home runs in it but at least he leaves us with a legacy that is completely untarnished and contains only proof that the bloke was one of the best in the business. Your television screens will most definitely miss him.
Oh yeah and there's that pesky episode to talk about. It's a much quieter instalment than we've come to expect from this most chilling of shows, particularly in light of this season's concentration on TEH EPIC, but it's arguably a welcome change of pace. Sure, we get a delightfully gruesome sequence of supernatural set pieces to cream over: the bashing of the cheerleader's brains and toilet-drowning by the, ahem, fat kid is rather brutal and what about that gloriously macabre hand blending scene, eh? However, these are brief and perhaps the only major signposts in the mystery element of the plot. It doesn't take long, in the aftermath of these moments, to establish the culprit and for Sam and Dean to, ahem, dust him. The real meat of the story is the essay on bullying and, more significantly, emotional trauma. The script pleasingly refuses to take sides on the issue, demonstrating both the horrors of high school taunting and the reasons behind it. The episode is substantially enriched with the inclusion of the scene with the bully's father, which positively aches with regret, loss and sorrow. It's a delicate balance but it is struck perfectly and gives the viewer the opportunity to experience the ambivalence that clearly must be running rampant in Sam's head. Of course, the hour is also very much about our central protagonists and their internalised fears and darkest emotions: it is good to see Dean, albeit a young Dean, faced with the reality of his behaviour and also Sam presented with someone who offers him the alternative road that he needs in order to escape what he sees as an oppressive force in his life.
Above all, 'After School Special' teaches us the value of understanding, emphasising that no matter how horrible the actions, how apparently irreconcilable the behaviour, there is always a worm lurking in the soul of the perpetrator; there are always issues of their own that they are trying to deal with. And similarly, it stresses the horror of high school for so many, how we are often blind to the plights of others both within its doors and without. That it manages to do so without once seeming mawkish or cliched is a solid testament to the quality of the production. Definitely something a little special. 9.0
414: 'Sex and Violence'
Wr: Cathryn Humphris
Dr: Charles Beeson
Synopsis: A siren casts a spell on men in a small Iowa town, driving them to kill their wives.
Review: I had a dream about Supernatural last night. I've gotta say, this is a first. Don't think I've ever spent my slumbering hours imagining I was in a television programme before, although given that we only remember something like 2% of our total brain activity during REM sleep, I could be sorely mistaken. In this delightful escapade, I was Sam and Dean's 'partner in crime', if you will, the third part of the demon-fighting 'trio' who hunt down all the evil things that go bump in the night. We had entered a large circular building, with wooden walls and floors and instantly, I felt suspicious. Something was up. Things just weren't quite right. I explained this to Sam, that I had a gut feeling, and he concurred. We ventured up a winding wooden staircase and entered a child's bedroom, abandoned and left to rot for years. Cobwebs adorned the walls and disused toys were strewn across the floor. There was no light, despite a window being open. A dull greyness filled the room, giving it a further air of dereliction. I began scurrying about, looking for 'clues', while Sam whipped out the E-meter. Sure enough, paranormal activity. On a gargantuan scale. But there was nothing there... no person, no ghost and certainly, no demon. Suddenly, one of the toys shot across the room. A blackened action figure. Then another. A small train set. Within seconds, all of the toys were flying around of their own accord, slamming into one another and seeming aiming for Sam and I. Just to state the obvious, I called out, "It's the toys!" as Sam desperately tried the door. No use. We were trapped. More and more of these apparently cursed objects were bashing off the walls, threatening to beat us to death. It was no good. We couldn't get out. And then I woke up.
Exciting, huh? It has absolutely no relevance to 'Sex and Violence' and, really, there was no point in regailing you with it. But it does emphasise the significant impression that a show like this can leave on the imagination and when you consider that the CW has yet to renew it for a fifth (and probably, according to Eric Kripke, final) season, it hammers home the injustice inherent in the American televisual system. Who wouldn't want more of this programme: the most consistently brilliant production that the entire landscape has seen ALL YEAR? This season sees Supernatural at the top of its game and it would be a damn shame to put pay to that before it truly deserved to be at rest.
Still, enough with the platitudes, eh? 'Sex and Violence', as you might be able to deduce from the episode title, rocks. Cathryn Humphris, as usual, delivers the goods in truly stylish fashion, composing a delightful story about lust, loathing and jealousy and wrapping it up in one seedy, gritty and oft-times downright shocking package. Once again, the show marries paranormal plot of the week with sumptuous character development, using the former succinctly as a vehicle for the latter. Thus, Sam and Dean come to blows because the Siren gets to them but ultimately, that's far from the point. The issues that come to a head in the truly rip-roaring fight sequence between the two are ones that have been bubbling under for the duration of the season. The pair get to air their dirty laundry and things get decidedly ugly. Pleasingly, despite Bobby saving the day and a resolution moment seemingly being incorporated into the narrative, the conflict doesn't really seem to have reached a satisfactory conclusion... as it shouldn't. These issues are far, far too deep rooted to be resolved with a simple bout of fisticuffa and a pat on the back. No, this is foreshadowing, building to something bigger and, hopefully, better. What's the betting we'll see Sam vs. Dean by season's end?
'Sex and Violence' is a dark, dark episode and a bastard of a one to leave us with FOR YET ANOTHER MONTH (yes, The CW, in their infinite wisdom, have decided to hold back on the remainder of the season for a little while). It's ugly, it's difficult to watch at times and it feels uncomfortably close to home on occasion. And that, boys and girls, is why it's damn fantastic. 9.1
Wr: Daniel Loflin & Andrew Dabb
Dr: Adam Kane
Synopsis: Sam and Dean investigate a haunting at one of the high schools they attended as teenagers.
Review: Regrettably, my enjoyment of 'After School Special' was coloured somewhat by the discovery of the passing of Kim Manners, one of Supernatural's executive producers and a highly prolific director, who manned many of the show's greatest episodes, including this season's superlative opener, 'Lazarus Rising'. Manners was fighting lung cancer but continued to work on the show, demonstrating that his heart was always concerned with doing the best that he could for others. His skill as a director knew no bounds as his work always managed to be the most innovative, prolific and, above all, downright scary. He knew exactly which buttons to press and which avenues to take when creating that tough little critter called fear. Manners worked on The X Files for the duration of its nine years and was continually called upon by creator Chris Carter to helm those episodes that needed a more deft touch, that desired to get you right behind the sofa. It's because of this that Eric Kripke called the guy up immediately upon the birth of his televisual baby and demanded that he work on the show. Naturally, Kim obliged. At 59, it's a damn shame that the guy's career was cut short when it should have had so many more years and many more Supernatural home runs in it but at least he leaves us with a legacy that is completely untarnished and contains only proof that the bloke was one of the best in the business. Your television screens will most definitely miss him.
Oh yeah and there's that pesky episode to talk about. It's a much quieter instalment than we've come to expect from this most chilling of shows, particularly in light of this season's concentration on TEH EPIC, but it's arguably a welcome change of pace. Sure, we get a delightfully gruesome sequence of supernatural set pieces to cream over: the bashing of the cheerleader's brains and toilet-drowning by the, ahem, fat kid is rather brutal and what about that gloriously macabre hand blending scene, eh? However, these are brief and perhaps the only major signposts in the mystery element of the plot. It doesn't take long, in the aftermath of these moments, to establish the culprit and for Sam and Dean to, ahem, dust him. The real meat of the story is the essay on bullying and, more significantly, emotional trauma. The script pleasingly refuses to take sides on the issue, demonstrating both the horrors of high school taunting and the reasons behind it. The episode is substantially enriched with the inclusion of the scene with the bully's father, which positively aches with regret, loss and sorrow. It's a delicate balance but it is struck perfectly and gives the viewer the opportunity to experience the ambivalence that clearly must be running rampant in Sam's head. Of course, the hour is also very much about our central protagonists and their internalised fears and darkest emotions: it is good to see Dean, albeit a young Dean, faced with the reality of his behaviour and also Sam presented with someone who offers him the alternative road that he needs in order to escape what he sees as an oppressive force in his life.
Above all, 'After School Special' teaches us the value of understanding, emphasising that no matter how horrible the actions, how apparently irreconcilable the behaviour, there is always a worm lurking in the soul of the perpetrator; there are always issues of their own that they are trying to deal with. And similarly, it stresses the horror of high school for so many, how we are often blind to the plights of others both within its doors and without. That it manages to do so without once seeming mawkish or cliched is a solid testament to the quality of the production. Definitely something a little special. 9.0
414: 'Sex and Violence'
Wr: Cathryn Humphris
Dr: Charles Beeson
Synopsis: A siren casts a spell on men in a small Iowa town, driving them to kill their wives.
Review: I had a dream about Supernatural last night. I've gotta say, this is a first. Don't think I've ever spent my slumbering hours imagining I was in a television programme before, although given that we only remember something like 2% of our total brain activity during REM sleep, I could be sorely mistaken. In this delightful escapade, I was Sam and Dean's 'partner in crime', if you will, the third part of the demon-fighting 'trio' who hunt down all the evil things that go bump in the night. We had entered a large circular building, with wooden walls and floors and instantly, I felt suspicious. Something was up. Things just weren't quite right. I explained this to Sam, that I had a gut feeling, and he concurred. We ventured up a winding wooden staircase and entered a child's bedroom, abandoned and left to rot for years. Cobwebs adorned the walls and disused toys were strewn across the floor. There was no light, despite a window being open. A dull greyness filled the room, giving it a further air of dereliction. I began scurrying about, looking for 'clues', while Sam whipped out the E-meter. Sure enough, paranormal activity. On a gargantuan scale. But there was nothing there... no person, no ghost and certainly, no demon. Suddenly, one of the toys shot across the room. A blackened action figure. Then another. A small train set. Within seconds, all of the toys were flying around of their own accord, slamming into one another and seeming aiming for Sam and I. Just to state the obvious, I called out, "It's the toys!" as Sam desperately tried the door. No use. We were trapped. More and more of these apparently cursed objects were bashing off the walls, threatening to beat us to death. It was no good. We couldn't get out. And then I woke up.
Exciting, huh? It has absolutely no relevance to 'Sex and Violence' and, really, there was no point in regailing you with it. But it does emphasise the significant impression that a show like this can leave on the imagination and when you consider that the CW has yet to renew it for a fifth (and probably, according to Eric Kripke, final) season, it hammers home the injustice inherent in the American televisual system. Who wouldn't want more of this programme: the most consistently brilliant production that the entire landscape has seen ALL YEAR? This season sees Supernatural at the top of its game and it would be a damn shame to put pay to that before it truly deserved to be at rest.
Still, enough with the platitudes, eh? 'Sex and Violence', as you might be able to deduce from the episode title, rocks. Cathryn Humphris, as usual, delivers the goods in truly stylish fashion, composing a delightful story about lust, loathing and jealousy and wrapping it up in one seedy, gritty and oft-times downright shocking package. Once again, the show marries paranormal plot of the week with sumptuous character development, using the former succinctly as a vehicle for the latter. Thus, Sam and Dean come to blows because the Siren gets to them but ultimately, that's far from the point. The issues that come to a head in the truly rip-roaring fight sequence between the two are ones that have been bubbling under for the duration of the season. The pair get to air their dirty laundry and things get decidedly ugly. Pleasingly, despite Bobby saving the day and a resolution moment seemingly being incorporated into the narrative, the conflict doesn't really seem to have reached a satisfactory conclusion... as it shouldn't. These issues are far, far too deep rooted to be resolved with a simple bout of fisticuffa and a pat on the back. No, this is foreshadowing, building to something bigger and, hopefully, better. What's the betting we'll see Sam vs. Dean by season's end?
'Sex and Violence' is a dark, dark episode and a bastard of a one to leave us with FOR YET ANOTHER MONTH (yes, The CW, in their infinite wisdom, have decided to hold back on the remainder of the season for a little while). It's ugly, it's difficult to watch at times and it feels uncomfortably close to home on occasion. And that, boys and girls, is why it's damn fantastic. 9.1
Reviews: Battlestar Galactica 414/415
414: 'Blood on the Scales' (2/2)
Wr: Michael Angeli
Dr: Wayne Rose
Synopsis: President Roslin seeks refuge on the Cylon base ship after Tom Zarek and Lt. Gaeta take control of the Galactica. Gaeta is determined to break away from Adama's policy of cooperation with the Cylons but even he is disturbed by Zarek's violent actions.
Review: Michael Angeli picks up quite admirably from where Mark Verherden left off with the second instalment of this two parter and continues Battlestar's current trend of high quality episodic entertainment. Much of the strength of 'The Oath' is inherent in 'Blood on the Scales': the continuing use of time as a predicate for narrative progression works wonderfully in keeping the dramatic tension levels stoked. The wealth of action is also encouraging. We are barely given a chance to pause for breath as first Adama is being given the most hokum trial known to man, then the Quorum are ruthlessly slaughtered by a completely barking Zarek, then Anders is shot and lies bleeding to death after EUGENE TOOMS murders a rebel with a pen and then Bill is before a firing squad, facing summary execution for his apparently 'treacherous' activities. This is unrelenting, difficult stuff, refusing to bow to narrative convention or attempt to sugar coat the brutality of what is truly going on. Kudos to the production staff for being brave enough to take this complete about turn in the mechanics of the plot to its logical conclusion and not 'chicken out', if you will, from presenting the viewer with the consequences of a failed revolution. One gets the distinct impression that nothing will ever be the same on the show now that two thirds of the crew have rebelled against their leader and he's back in power. Racetrack doesn't simply bow to Adama's will: he is reticient, holding firm in his beliefs. And Zarek and Gaeta... well, we all knew Tom would hold out until the bitter end but Felix? That was a surprise, but a pleasing one. He doesn't atone, there are no epiphianic, revelatory speeches. Instead, Angeli gives us a quiet, reflective scene with Baltar that somehow manages to encapsulate the essence of the character... and then shoots the poor bugger dead, execution style. It's a harsh fate for someone so misguided, perhaps, but then, it's the only logical one within the confines of the show's pre-established militaristic politics. To have merely repremanded him just wouldn't have seemed right. You may not want him dead but you know it's what you should get.
The writing staff certainly weren't exaggerating when they said in pre-season interviews that this would be a climate-changing, gigantic curveball of a decathalon and that, at times, it may make for somewhat harrowing viewing. However, it's all executed so elegantly, with such poise, style and sophistication, that you just cannot help but be swept along for the ride, regardless of just how damaging to your mental health it may be. Another tough forty five minutes then but like all good car wrecks, you just can't look away. Even when Roslin screams "I'm coming for you!" in the most unnecessarily hyperbolic tone imaginable. 9.2
415: 'No Exit'
Wr: Ryan Mottesheard
Dr: Gwenyth Horder-Payton
Synopsis: As Sam Anders recovers from his head injury onboard the Galactica, he begins to remember events from ancient Earth. Meanwhile, the Final Cylon struggles with the fallout from the Final Five's former plans. One of the humanoid Cylons vows to get revenge for being created in the image of Man. Tyrol informs Admiral Adama about the extensive structural damage on the Galactica.
Review: Huh. Talk about your fangeek fests. Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, this is fun. This week's instalment of the greatest science fiction show on television comes to you, dear viewer, in mind-addling mythological technicolor, throwing revelation after explanation after revelation into your face until you just can't take it anymore. And then it carries on, laughing its bolshy, brash, overly confident face off with guiltless, unadulterated glee. Want to know how the Centurions became Cylons? Done: experiments in advanced technology. Want an explanation for resurrection? Gotcha: the Final Five invented it together. Fancy a comprehensive history of Sol, Galan, Anders, Tory and Ellen and their activities prior to becoming 'human'? Say no more. How about an explanation for the Five's lack of knowledge regarding who they are? Well, you only needed to ask, silly! The original number 1, named John, did it to the poor buggers as payback for his creator, Ellen, 'trapping' him in a human body. Oh, and what about the elusive 'number 7'? Need to know about him? You got it - named Daniel, effectively murdered by John out of jealousy regarding Ellen's affections. We don't actually get to see him, regrettably, but I don't doubt it will happen some time over the course of the remaining four episodes.
Phew. You'd be forgiven for feeling, well, a little overwhelmed by it all. The unravelling comes thick and fast and it only pauses to catch breath by interjecting a C storyline into the mix about Galactica's significantly run down status and how Cylon technology is going to have to be used to fix the ship (oh and Tyrol becomes Chief again)... which, obviously, is a nice metaphor for the situation on the character side of things. There's a nice little scene in which Lee effectively becomes President too but you needn't worry too much about that. By the end of the episode, a global collective of science fiction fans find themselves picking themselves up off the floor, dusting their windswept, battered and bruised selves down and trying to take stock of what they've just witnessed: to reconcile it, file it away and work towards the realisation that, yeah, Battlestar Galactica pretty much just gave us all about 80% of the answers we've been craving for four years. Next week: Starbuck, rationalised, piece by narratalogical piece. We can hope.
Frankly, I'm still recovering from this one. I'm not sure I've managed to process it all yet. I will say that it's a delightfully structured episode and that, in particular, the strand involving Ellen is wonderful: it's somewhat appealing to the fangeeks in the audience to see her activities in the last eighteen months predicated on the major events in the Galactica calendar. The only criticism I can really muster is that perhaps this is just too much for one episode and that the exposition is rather talky. A better storytelling decision may have been to narrate the Final Five's history through flashback in order to put it into context but then, really, we shouldn't grumble when the show is finally giving us what we all want. A bit of a whirlwind... but a very enjoyable one. 9.2
Wr: Michael Angeli
Dr: Wayne Rose
Synopsis: President Roslin seeks refuge on the Cylon base ship after Tom Zarek and Lt. Gaeta take control of the Galactica. Gaeta is determined to break away from Adama's policy of cooperation with the Cylons but even he is disturbed by Zarek's violent actions.
Review: Michael Angeli picks up quite admirably from where Mark Verherden left off with the second instalment of this two parter and continues Battlestar's current trend of high quality episodic entertainment. Much of the strength of 'The Oath' is inherent in 'Blood on the Scales': the continuing use of time as a predicate for narrative progression works wonderfully in keeping the dramatic tension levels stoked. The wealth of action is also encouraging. We are barely given a chance to pause for breath as first Adama is being given the most hokum trial known to man, then the Quorum are ruthlessly slaughtered by a completely barking Zarek, then Anders is shot and lies bleeding to death after EUGENE TOOMS murders a rebel with a pen and then Bill is before a firing squad, facing summary execution for his apparently 'treacherous' activities. This is unrelenting, difficult stuff, refusing to bow to narrative convention or attempt to sugar coat the brutality of what is truly going on. Kudos to the production staff for being brave enough to take this complete about turn in the mechanics of the plot to its logical conclusion and not 'chicken out', if you will, from presenting the viewer with the consequences of a failed revolution. One gets the distinct impression that nothing will ever be the same on the show now that two thirds of the crew have rebelled against their leader and he's back in power. Racetrack doesn't simply bow to Adama's will: he is reticient, holding firm in his beliefs. And Zarek and Gaeta... well, we all knew Tom would hold out until the bitter end but Felix? That was a surprise, but a pleasing one. He doesn't atone, there are no epiphianic, revelatory speeches. Instead, Angeli gives us a quiet, reflective scene with Baltar that somehow manages to encapsulate the essence of the character... and then shoots the poor bugger dead, execution style. It's a harsh fate for someone so misguided, perhaps, but then, it's the only logical one within the confines of the show's pre-established militaristic politics. To have merely repremanded him just wouldn't have seemed right. You may not want him dead but you know it's what you should get.
The writing staff certainly weren't exaggerating when they said in pre-season interviews that this would be a climate-changing, gigantic curveball of a decathalon and that, at times, it may make for somewhat harrowing viewing. However, it's all executed so elegantly, with such poise, style and sophistication, that you just cannot help but be swept along for the ride, regardless of just how damaging to your mental health it may be. Another tough forty five minutes then but like all good car wrecks, you just can't look away. Even when Roslin screams "I'm coming for you!" in the most unnecessarily hyperbolic tone imaginable. 9.2
415: 'No Exit'
Wr: Ryan Mottesheard
Dr: Gwenyth Horder-Payton
Synopsis: As Sam Anders recovers from his head injury onboard the Galactica, he begins to remember events from ancient Earth. Meanwhile, the Final Cylon struggles with the fallout from the Final Five's former plans. One of the humanoid Cylons vows to get revenge for being created in the image of Man. Tyrol informs Admiral Adama about the extensive structural damage on the Galactica.
Review: Huh. Talk about your fangeek fests. Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, this is fun. This week's instalment of the greatest science fiction show on television comes to you, dear viewer, in mind-addling mythological technicolor, throwing revelation after explanation after revelation into your face until you just can't take it anymore. And then it carries on, laughing its bolshy, brash, overly confident face off with guiltless, unadulterated glee. Want to know how the Centurions became Cylons? Done: experiments in advanced technology. Want an explanation for resurrection? Gotcha: the Final Five invented it together. Fancy a comprehensive history of Sol, Galan, Anders, Tory and Ellen and their activities prior to becoming 'human'? Say no more. How about an explanation for the Five's lack of knowledge regarding who they are? Well, you only needed to ask, silly! The original number 1, named John, did it to the poor buggers as payback for his creator, Ellen, 'trapping' him in a human body. Oh, and what about the elusive 'number 7'? Need to know about him? You got it - named Daniel, effectively murdered by John out of jealousy regarding Ellen's affections. We don't actually get to see him, regrettably, but I don't doubt it will happen some time over the course of the remaining four episodes.
Phew. You'd be forgiven for feeling, well, a little overwhelmed by it all. The unravelling comes thick and fast and it only pauses to catch breath by interjecting a C storyline into the mix about Galactica's significantly run down status and how Cylon technology is going to have to be used to fix the ship (oh and Tyrol becomes Chief again)... which, obviously, is a nice metaphor for the situation on the character side of things. There's a nice little scene in which Lee effectively becomes President too but you needn't worry too much about that. By the end of the episode, a global collective of science fiction fans find themselves picking themselves up off the floor, dusting their windswept, battered and bruised selves down and trying to take stock of what they've just witnessed: to reconcile it, file it away and work towards the realisation that, yeah, Battlestar Galactica pretty much just gave us all about 80% of the answers we've been craving for four years. Next week: Starbuck, rationalised, piece by narratalogical piece. We can hope.
Frankly, I'm still recovering from this one. I'm not sure I've managed to process it all yet. I will say that it's a delightfully structured episode and that, in particular, the strand involving Ellen is wonderful: it's somewhat appealing to the fangeeks in the audience to see her activities in the last eighteen months predicated on the major events in the Galactica calendar. The only criticism I can really muster is that perhaps this is just too much for one episode and that the exposition is rather talky. A better storytelling decision may have been to narrate the Final Five's history through flashback in order to put it into context but then, really, we shouldn't grumble when the show is finally giving us what we all want. A bit of a whirlwind... but a very enjoyable one. 9.2
Monday, 9 February 2009
Thursday, 5 February 2009
Review: Lost 504
504: 'The Little Prince'
Wr: Melinda Hsu & Brian K. Vaughan
Dr: Stephen Williams
Synopsis: Kate discovers that someone knows the secret of Aaron's true parental lineage. Meanwhile, the dramatic shifts through time are placing the lives of the remaining island survivors in extreme peril.
Review: What did I tell you? What did I write on this very internet page less than a week ago? What did I prophesy? A Jack and Kate-centric episode, you say? Well, I never. What a surprise! Of course, I can't try to apportion some sort of criticism to the show's production staff because, after all, I gleaned my 'prediction' from the episode four trailer... but still, I warned you all. Were you braced for the gushing? Prepared for the tortured looks of longing between those two tired old love birds? And did the inclusion of a love-lorn Sawyer, pitifully watching Kate deliver Claire's baby and having some sort of reflective, melancholic mope catch you unawares? If it did, you are a naive young pup: Lost will always weave the dreaded triangle into its narrative if it's focusing on Ms Austen... you should know that by now. No amount of geographical or chronological distance between the two players could hope to stop that! More fool you, devoted viewer. Mind, quite why Juliet insisted on probing so intrusively into James' feelings after he confessed what he saw to her remains another matter. What is it with the Others and their obsession with psychology? Jesus Christ, buy them all some couches and get them to set up a business together, would ya?
To be fair to 'The Little Prince', the triangle elements actually aren't half bad. We are spared many particularly mawkish moments as the 'tortured romance' is dressed up in the intricacies of the plot. Things go at a pleasingly fast rate: we start the episode with the Six spread around LA, Kate running from an unknown 'threat' and end it with virtually everyone together, the identity of the lawyer's 'client' revealed and Sun brandishing a bloody gun. In a car with a toddler present, for Christ's sake! Of course, she's never going to kill Ben but this development has me sufficiently intrigued to want to see how it plays out. It looks rather like Ms Quon will be 'put in her place' somewhat, however, when she ultimately discovers that Jin is still very much alive. This is not unexpected but it is slightly frustrating: actually killing him would have been a decidedly bold move and given significant weighty depth to developments in Sun's character. As it is, it rubbishes the changes that have occurred to her personality and just has us all waiting for the reconciliation, which could also be the moment that the emotive 'reset' button is pressed and everything returns, depressingly, to normality. Let's hope that doesn't happen. Actually, I'm rather pleased that Jin is still alive as he's a great character, Daniel Dae Kim is a fantastic actor and he and Yunjin Kim have great chemistry together. Of all the couples on the show, it's these two that I want the happy ending for.
Anyway, so Jin. He's in the hands of Rousseau and her gang of merry French men. See, told ya this time travel malarky would give us the perfect opportunity to see the history of the Island. Hopefully, we'll witness her party's contraction of 'the sickness' (radiation poisioning from the hydrogen bomb, anyone? Is it at the Black Rock?), the attacks by the Others and maybe even the recording of the radio tower distress signal. Who knows, perhaps the show will even afford us a few Danielle-based flashbacks? We can but hope. The reveal at episode's end that this is young Mira Furlan (she looks nothing like her, by the way) was rather telegraphed - any avid Lost viewer will have put two and two together when they first saw wreckage of a boat and heard French voices - but we'll let the show off this once for the simple reason that we've been waiting for the details of this story for years. Actually, I have to let the episode off a second time for the predictable nature of the reveal of Ben as the man wanting to acquire Aaron: it was, after all, nicely disguised slightly with the inclusion of Claire's mother. So yeah, you're forgiven. Just don't go making the remainder of your season this easy to foretell, will ya?
Of the remaining tidbits, the onset of bloody nose syndrome is quite an interesting touch as it appears to be proportional to the length of time spent on the Island, with Charlotte, Miles and finally Juliet being the first in line (Miles an Island veteran? Marvin Candle's baby?) So it isn't simply affecting the archaelogist... all right, makes far more sense now. And how about the apparent foray into the future? If the camp was back and the Islanders have no memory of the surrounding events (those boats, the new bunch of hostiles), this must surely mean that their position in the timeline has shifted ahead of where they last left it in the present. BVut who are these new intruders, what do they want and where is everyone else? I need my Rose and Bernard fix, for crying out loud. In the main, this is another intriguing episode that keeps the plot going at a steady pace, introduces a few nice mysteries to ponder and begins to open a number of previously sealed narrative doors for our collective enjoyment. A little predictable at times and not quite as much of a rollercoaster ride as previous weeks, perhaps, but very strong all the same. 8.8
Wr: Melinda Hsu & Brian K. Vaughan
Dr: Stephen Williams
Synopsis: Kate discovers that someone knows the secret of Aaron's true parental lineage. Meanwhile, the dramatic shifts through time are placing the lives of the remaining island survivors in extreme peril.
Review: What did I tell you? What did I write on this very internet page less than a week ago? What did I prophesy? A Jack and Kate-centric episode, you say? Well, I never. What a surprise! Of course, I can't try to apportion some sort of criticism to the show's production staff because, after all, I gleaned my 'prediction' from the episode four trailer... but still, I warned you all. Were you braced for the gushing? Prepared for the tortured looks of longing between those two tired old love birds? And did the inclusion of a love-lorn Sawyer, pitifully watching Kate deliver Claire's baby and having some sort of reflective, melancholic mope catch you unawares? If it did, you are a naive young pup: Lost will always weave the dreaded triangle into its narrative if it's focusing on Ms Austen... you should know that by now. No amount of geographical or chronological distance between the two players could hope to stop that! More fool you, devoted viewer. Mind, quite why Juliet insisted on probing so intrusively into James' feelings after he confessed what he saw to her remains another matter. What is it with the Others and their obsession with psychology? Jesus Christ, buy them all some couches and get them to set up a business together, would ya?
To be fair to 'The Little Prince', the triangle elements actually aren't half bad. We are spared many particularly mawkish moments as the 'tortured romance' is dressed up in the intricacies of the plot. Things go at a pleasingly fast rate: we start the episode with the Six spread around LA, Kate running from an unknown 'threat' and end it with virtually everyone together, the identity of the lawyer's 'client' revealed and Sun brandishing a bloody gun. In a car with a toddler present, for Christ's sake! Of course, she's never going to kill Ben but this development has me sufficiently intrigued to want to see how it plays out. It looks rather like Ms Quon will be 'put in her place' somewhat, however, when she ultimately discovers that Jin is still very much alive. This is not unexpected but it is slightly frustrating: actually killing him would have been a decidedly bold move and given significant weighty depth to developments in Sun's character. As it is, it rubbishes the changes that have occurred to her personality and just has us all waiting for the reconciliation, which could also be the moment that the emotive 'reset' button is pressed and everything returns, depressingly, to normality. Let's hope that doesn't happen. Actually, I'm rather pleased that Jin is still alive as he's a great character, Daniel Dae Kim is a fantastic actor and he and Yunjin Kim have great chemistry together. Of all the couples on the show, it's these two that I want the happy ending for.
Anyway, so Jin. He's in the hands of Rousseau and her gang of merry French men. See, told ya this time travel malarky would give us the perfect opportunity to see the history of the Island. Hopefully, we'll witness her party's contraction of 'the sickness' (radiation poisioning from the hydrogen bomb, anyone? Is it at the Black Rock?), the attacks by the Others and maybe even the recording of the radio tower distress signal. Who knows, perhaps the show will even afford us a few Danielle-based flashbacks? We can but hope. The reveal at episode's end that this is young Mira Furlan (she looks nothing like her, by the way) was rather telegraphed - any avid Lost viewer will have put two and two together when they first saw wreckage of a boat and heard French voices - but we'll let the show off this once for the simple reason that we've been waiting for the details of this story for years. Actually, I have to let the episode off a second time for the predictable nature of the reveal of Ben as the man wanting to acquire Aaron: it was, after all, nicely disguised slightly with the inclusion of Claire's mother. So yeah, you're forgiven. Just don't go making the remainder of your season this easy to foretell, will ya?
Of the remaining tidbits, the onset of bloody nose syndrome is quite an interesting touch as it appears to be proportional to the length of time spent on the Island, with Charlotte, Miles and finally Juliet being the first in line (Miles an Island veteran? Marvin Candle's baby?) So it isn't simply affecting the archaelogist... all right, makes far more sense now. And how about the apparent foray into the future? If the camp was back and the Islanders have no memory of the surrounding events (those boats, the new bunch of hostiles), this must surely mean that their position in the timeline has shifted ahead of where they last left it in the present. BVut who are these new intruders, what do they want and where is everyone else? I need my Rose and Bernard fix, for crying out loud. In the main, this is another intriguing episode that keeps the plot going at a steady pace, introduces a few nice mysteries to ponder and begins to open a number of previously sealed narrative doors for our collective enjoyment. A little predictable at times and not quite as much of a rollercoaster ride as previous weeks, perhaps, but very strong all the same. 8.8
Reviews: Skins 301/302
301: 'Everyone'
Wr: Bryan Elsley
Dr: Christopher Martin
Synopsis: As the one remaining link from Seasons 1 and 2, Effy starts her first day at Roundview College with a new gang. We are introduced to Cook, JJ, Freddie, Katie and Emily (the twins), Naomi and Pandora.
Review: Brand new Skins, brand new cast, same old reliable story format. Well, apart from the fact that episode one is a free for all, introducing us quite admirably to the chaps and chapettes with whom we'll be spending the next two seasons. The jury's still out on a few but in the main, they're a fairly likable bunch with a lot of promise and even those that don't seem destined to be warming the cockles of my heart are worth reserving judgement over since, at the start of season one, I couldn't bloody stand Tony, Cassie or Michelle and I ended up loving all three. Skins will undoubtedly show us the softer, more vulnerable sides of the less likable characters sooner rather than later. So, on with the assessment.
While 'Everyone' is essentially the entire cast's episode, Elsley's script takes the perspective of three male best friends and their equal desire to bed Effy Stonem as its central narrative drive. This is hardly the most original or inspiring of plots and it is, frankly, wafer thin, but it hardly matters: the episode's job is to inaugurate, not to complicate. The three Stooges (well, if the shoe fits...) are all satisfactorily deleniated and play wel off each other, seeing as they are, quite deliberately, very, very different. So we have Freddie, who actually introduces us to the new Skins world by skateboarding through it and causing Effy's dad (great to see Harry Enfield again!) to crash his car. He's perhaps the least explored of the three so far, coming across a little mysterious and slightly withdrawn. While far from shy, he appears to survey rather than participate, keeping an eye on best friend Cook at the same time. Mind, he does confront Effy about a possible attraction in the least obnoxious way so perhaps there are additional layers. Thumbs up for this dude then: he's fairly sensible, together and he skates.
Shame about his bezzie. Cook, sadly, is a wanker. There, I said it. I couldn't agree any more with Naomi Campbell's (hah!) assessment. The boy is an arrogant, self-righteous prick with more bluster than a Tory party conference. He leeringly demeans every girl he meets by suggesting that they have a burning desire to see his, apparently well proportioned, cock and has that oh-so-masculine habit of assuming that the world revolves squarely around him and his tattooed nether-regions. Well, thanks but no thanks, mate. If Cook were a band, he'd be Oasis: overly testosteroned lager lout with far too much smoke up his arse. Impressive, then, that the guy portraying him manages to make the guy so unlikeable: that's no small feat, let me tell you. All too often, the typical response is one of complete apathy so kudos to Jack O'Connell for managing to successfully pull off arrogant and irritating.
JJ, on the other hand, is an absolute sweetheart. A little embarrassing at times, perhaps (his magic tricks, while impressive, really need to be left at home) but a sweetheart nonetheless. With a delectably out-of-control mop of curly hair, complete lack of fashion sense and more brain cells than is healthy for a sexed-up sixteen year old, JJ just makes you want to reach your ahdn into the screen and give him a good glomp. He stands no chance with Effy, bless him, but his naiviety is unquestionably adorable. Impressively, he comes across as endearingly awkward and intelligent rather than irritatingly so, which could so easily have been the result. Expect to be 'aaaah'ing at this guy's narratives in the future and probably turning to the dictionary to figure out what the hell he just said).
Onto the girls and, of course, we're all familiar with Effy. She's brilliantly weird, as per, and pleasingly, for a character who is very much the focus of the episode, takes something of a back seat, allowing the lives of the other players to unfold around her as she silently observes. We're also familiar with flighty young Pandora, who gets one of the funniest scenes in the piece as she ducks out of a horrific Nail and Beauty class. Maeks me shudder just to think about it. The true newbies are twins Katie and Emily Fitch and potential lesbian Naomi who I developed an instant shine to after she called Cook on his bullshit. The twins, however, are another matter. Evidently, we are supposed to like quiet, reserved Emily who stands in her sister's spotlight and may be having a fling with Naomi (oooo lesbianism, yay) and hate Katie for her brash, obnoxious, completely unreasonable attitude. And yeah, we do. Simple as. Katie is the female Cook, only with less beer swilling from her hands: she's rude, bigoted and completely full of herself but you just know that by about episode six, we're going to forgive her due to her 'problems'. Personally, I hope we don't set to see her vulnerable side: I'd quite like to spend the next ten weeks wishing a slow, painful death upon her sorry character. Could be fun.
This is a thoroughly engaging introduction to the lives of our new cast of characters that gives a few pleasing nods to the Skins of old (Harry Enfield, Doug the 'cool' head of year, Sid's locker) but stays sufficiently fresh to keep the narrative from becoming overly familiar. While the actual plot is somewhat lacking, the episode is more of a vehicle for the cast and, at this, it works a treat. 8.7
302: 'Cook'
Wr: Jamie Brittain
Dr: Simon Massey
Synopsis: Cook prepares to celebrate his seventeenth birthday, although things take a turn for the worse when he encounters a gangster by the name of Johnny White.
Review: Didn't take long, did it? One whole week and we've got to see 'another side' to world class cuntweasel James Cook. Well, actually, it's more of an internalised address of his inherently flawed character that we're treated to but, nonetheless, we're certainly in a different place than we were at the end of 301. The episode takes the boy's birthday as its central premise and proceeds to demonstrate, for the next forty minutes, just how much of a dick he can be before finally, someone pulls him n his shit and we get a very brief, amost 'heart to heart'. The story makes for difficult viewing as a result of this but then, one suspects that is the point. From the off, Cook is thoroughly unlikable, spilling beer everywhere, gobbing down his entire birthday cake, laughing at his uncle's completely inappropriate and boorish behaviour, scoring a shedload of drugs to enable our cast to get into an engagement party hosted by a 'local gangster' and ultimately trying it on with the bloody bride-to-be. There seems to be no excuse for his actions other than his apparent need to have his birthday be a 'memorable' and 'exciting' one (although, I am sure there are deep-rooted family issues ti be explored in future episodes) and, thus, you just want to punch the guy even more with each scene.
It's questionable whether this is a successful narrative technique: on the one hand, Skins should be applauded for portraying human nature as it is and not sugar-coating the teenage experience for easier consumption (a la Dawson's Creek). However, equally, it's a dangerous route, making one of your central characters so damn infuriating. It worked, to an extent, with Tony because the narrative trajectory allowed him to change; if Cook takes a similar route though, it may come across as rather tired. A case of 'been there, done that'. Already, there are elements of this feeling within the plot: the gangster story is far too reminiscent of the drug-dealing 'PhD owner' from season one who Tony and Sid got on the wrong side of in the first episode and spent the rest of the season running from. Now, while I understand the need to have some form of antagonist within the central plot, did it really have to be so blatant a rehash? Aren't tjere other viable story options? Sure, the scene in the brothel is a nicely executed mix of comedy and horror (Jack McConnell is excellent here: just the right side of unbalanced) but is it worth it for this one praiseworthy moment?
Certainly, the reactions of the other characters are right on the money. Freddie's rejection of his friend fits perfectly with his established position within the group and makes sense in light of Cook's decision to bed Effy; JJ remains utterly adorable, unable to pull himself away from his friend due to his loyalty and reluctance to antagonise, and only doing so when Cook almost threatens him (as an aside, how cute is the sequence between JJ and the girl in the brothel? Awww... he's never kissed a girl before!); Effy is her standard, oddball self, Pandora is freaking hilarious, Naomi offers an intriguing insight into the machinations of her relationship with Emily (it's not what we originally expected?) and Katie is, well, a royal pain in the arse. All the ulterior characters logically progress from the positions that were established last week and the battle lines between likable and downright fucking inexcusable remain firmly drawn.
Not much changes, then, aside from an acknowledgement of Cook's less than desirable characteristics, but at least we get a fairly enjoyable episode out of it. The narrative just about works in spite of the viewer's penchant for wanting to throttle the central character until he puts down his pint, throws his drugs in the canal and takes his hands off the married woman's arse. And that's no small feat, let me tell you. 8.0
Wr: Bryan Elsley
Dr: Christopher Martin
Synopsis: As the one remaining link from Seasons 1 and 2, Effy starts her first day at Roundview College with a new gang. We are introduced to Cook, JJ, Freddie, Katie and Emily (the twins), Naomi and Pandora.
Review: Brand new Skins, brand new cast, same old reliable story format. Well, apart from the fact that episode one is a free for all, introducing us quite admirably to the chaps and chapettes with whom we'll be spending the next two seasons. The jury's still out on a few but in the main, they're a fairly likable bunch with a lot of promise and even those that don't seem destined to be warming the cockles of my heart are worth reserving judgement over since, at the start of season one, I couldn't bloody stand Tony, Cassie or Michelle and I ended up loving all three. Skins will undoubtedly show us the softer, more vulnerable sides of the less likable characters sooner rather than later. So, on with the assessment.
While 'Everyone' is essentially the entire cast's episode, Elsley's script takes the perspective of three male best friends and their equal desire to bed Effy Stonem as its central narrative drive. This is hardly the most original or inspiring of plots and it is, frankly, wafer thin, but it hardly matters: the episode's job is to inaugurate, not to complicate. The three Stooges (well, if the shoe fits...) are all satisfactorily deleniated and play wel off each other, seeing as they are, quite deliberately, very, very different. So we have Freddie, who actually introduces us to the new Skins world by skateboarding through it and causing Effy's dad (great to see Harry Enfield again!) to crash his car. He's perhaps the least explored of the three so far, coming across a little mysterious and slightly withdrawn. While far from shy, he appears to survey rather than participate, keeping an eye on best friend Cook at the same time. Mind, he does confront Effy about a possible attraction in the least obnoxious way so perhaps there are additional layers. Thumbs up for this dude then: he's fairly sensible, together and he skates.
Shame about his bezzie. Cook, sadly, is a wanker. There, I said it. I couldn't agree any more with Naomi Campbell's (hah!) assessment. The boy is an arrogant, self-righteous prick with more bluster than a Tory party conference. He leeringly demeans every girl he meets by suggesting that they have a burning desire to see his, apparently well proportioned, cock and has that oh-so-masculine habit of assuming that the world revolves squarely around him and his tattooed nether-regions. Well, thanks but no thanks, mate. If Cook were a band, he'd be Oasis: overly testosteroned lager lout with far too much smoke up his arse. Impressive, then, that the guy portraying him manages to make the guy so unlikeable: that's no small feat, let me tell you. All too often, the typical response is one of complete apathy so kudos to Jack O'Connell for managing to successfully pull off arrogant and irritating.
JJ, on the other hand, is an absolute sweetheart. A little embarrassing at times, perhaps (his magic tricks, while impressive, really need to be left at home) but a sweetheart nonetheless. With a delectably out-of-control mop of curly hair, complete lack of fashion sense and more brain cells than is healthy for a sexed-up sixteen year old, JJ just makes you want to reach your ahdn into the screen and give him a good glomp. He stands no chance with Effy, bless him, but his naiviety is unquestionably adorable. Impressively, he comes across as endearingly awkward and intelligent rather than irritatingly so, which could so easily have been the result. Expect to be 'aaaah'ing at this guy's narratives in the future and probably turning to the dictionary to figure out what the hell he just said).
Onto the girls and, of course, we're all familiar with Effy. She's brilliantly weird, as per, and pleasingly, for a character who is very much the focus of the episode, takes something of a back seat, allowing the lives of the other players to unfold around her as she silently observes. We're also familiar with flighty young Pandora, who gets one of the funniest scenes in the piece as she ducks out of a horrific Nail and Beauty class. Maeks me shudder just to think about it. The true newbies are twins Katie and Emily Fitch and potential lesbian Naomi who I developed an instant shine to after she called Cook on his bullshit. The twins, however, are another matter. Evidently, we are supposed to like quiet, reserved Emily who stands in her sister's spotlight and may be having a fling with Naomi (oooo lesbianism, yay) and hate Katie for her brash, obnoxious, completely unreasonable attitude. And yeah, we do. Simple as. Katie is the female Cook, only with less beer swilling from her hands: she's rude, bigoted and completely full of herself but you just know that by about episode six, we're going to forgive her due to her 'problems'. Personally, I hope we don't set to see her vulnerable side: I'd quite like to spend the next ten weeks wishing a slow, painful death upon her sorry character. Could be fun.
This is a thoroughly engaging introduction to the lives of our new cast of characters that gives a few pleasing nods to the Skins of old (Harry Enfield, Doug the 'cool' head of year, Sid's locker) but stays sufficiently fresh to keep the narrative from becoming overly familiar. While the actual plot is somewhat lacking, the episode is more of a vehicle for the cast and, at this, it works a treat. 8.7
302: 'Cook'
Wr: Jamie Brittain
Dr: Simon Massey
Synopsis: Cook prepares to celebrate his seventeenth birthday, although things take a turn for the worse when he encounters a gangster by the name of Johnny White.
Review: Didn't take long, did it? One whole week and we've got to see 'another side' to world class cuntweasel James Cook. Well, actually, it's more of an internalised address of his inherently flawed character that we're treated to but, nonetheless, we're certainly in a different place than we were at the end of 301. The episode takes the boy's birthday as its central premise and proceeds to demonstrate, for the next forty minutes, just how much of a dick he can be before finally, someone pulls him n his shit and we get a very brief, amost 'heart to heart'. The story makes for difficult viewing as a result of this but then, one suspects that is the point. From the off, Cook is thoroughly unlikable, spilling beer everywhere, gobbing down his entire birthday cake, laughing at his uncle's completely inappropriate and boorish behaviour, scoring a shedload of drugs to enable our cast to get into an engagement party hosted by a 'local gangster' and ultimately trying it on with the bloody bride-to-be. There seems to be no excuse for his actions other than his apparent need to have his birthday be a 'memorable' and 'exciting' one (although, I am sure there are deep-rooted family issues ti be explored in future episodes) and, thus, you just want to punch the guy even more with each scene.
It's questionable whether this is a successful narrative technique: on the one hand, Skins should be applauded for portraying human nature as it is and not sugar-coating the teenage experience for easier consumption (a la Dawson's Creek). However, equally, it's a dangerous route, making one of your central characters so damn infuriating. It worked, to an extent, with Tony because the narrative trajectory allowed him to change; if Cook takes a similar route though, it may come across as rather tired. A case of 'been there, done that'. Already, there are elements of this feeling within the plot: the gangster story is far too reminiscent of the drug-dealing 'PhD owner' from season one who Tony and Sid got on the wrong side of in the first episode and spent the rest of the season running from. Now, while I understand the need to have some form of antagonist within the central plot, did it really have to be so blatant a rehash? Aren't tjere other viable story options? Sure, the scene in the brothel is a nicely executed mix of comedy and horror (Jack McConnell is excellent here: just the right side of unbalanced) but is it worth it for this one praiseworthy moment?
Certainly, the reactions of the other characters are right on the money. Freddie's rejection of his friend fits perfectly with his established position within the group and makes sense in light of Cook's decision to bed Effy; JJ remains utterly adorable, unable to pull himself away from his friend due to his loyalty and reluctance to antagonise, and only doing so when Cook almost threatens him (as an aside, how cute is the sequence between JJ and the girl in the brothel? Awww... he's never kissed a girl before!); Effy is her standard, oddball self, Pandora is freaking hilarious, Naomi offers an intriguing insight into the machinations of her relationship with Emily (it's not what we originally expected?) and Katie is, well, a royal pain in the arse. All the ulterior characters logically progress from the positions that were established last week and the battle lines between likable and downright fucking inexcusable remain firmly drawn.
Not much changes, then, aside from an acknowledgement of Cook's less than desirable characteristics, but at least we get a fairly enjoyable episode out of it. The narrative just about works in spite of the viewer's penchant for wanting to throttle the central character until he puts down his pint, throws his drugs in the canal and takes his hands off the married woman's arse. And that's no small feat, let me tell you. 8.0
Review: Battlestar Galactica 413
413: 'The Oath' (part one of two)
Wr: Mark Verheiden
Dr: John Dahl
Synopsis: Adama continues with his plan to use Cylon drive technology on Colonial ships. The closer ties between the rebel Cylons and the humans sets off a violent uprising in the fleet.
Review: Well, the Battlestar Galactica forums certainly aren't replete with complaints this week. Far from it, in fact: 'The Oath' seems to have generated the kind of infectious buzz unseen since our four friendly Cylons crawled out of the woodwork at the end of season three. The general consensus, it seems, is that 'stuff happened' in this episode and, as a result, that equals good. While the logic is flawed at best, the outcome is certainly on the money: Mark Verherden's script is a delectable flurry of chaotic activity, throwing the entire Galactica world up in the air and letting it shatter into a thousand dark, ugly pieces. Far more than the revelation about Earth, the events that occur in 'The Oath' change the shape of the narrative in seemingly unreconcilable ways. Will anything ever be the same now that around two thirds of the fleet has mutined? Now that innocent Galacticans have been murdered by Gaeta and Zarek's 'revolutionaries'? Now that a political and military coup has occurred? They're locking up Cylons and Cylon 'sympathisers' for Christ's sake! Gaeta's taken command of the damn fleet! They arrested Adama and Sol! And now, they're about to fire on the President's ship! Holy mother of frack, just what in the name of Pithia is going on?!
Well, the aftermath, that's what. This is what loss, disappointment and the fanning of bigoted flames will yet you. There is absolutely no way that the events of 'The Oath' could have believably taken place if we had not had the kind of narrative development that occurred in 'A Disquiet Follows My Soul'. Last week's quiet examination of the nature of fear and loathing was absolutely needed to allow for the developments in this two parter. In fact, I'd argue that it is still possibly too sudden. Major changes do occur rather quickly: virtually the entire crew of the Galactica is ready to turn on those they've worked closely with for the past few years. We perhaps could have used an additional episode to show just how Gaeta won around his cohorts... but this is a minor criticism. It could be argued that the hour quite admirably reflects the social climate often needed for revolution to occur: after all, so many are sprawling, chaotic and, most importantly, sporadic. Verhedern does an excellent job of demonstrating the wealth of variables that can intrude on even the most well laid plans: Gaeta's struggles in the CIC are particularly reflective of this.
'The Oath' is certainly an addictively tense episode. Everyone is at the top of their game and at the height of their emotions, which keeps things permanently on edge: check out Starbuck as she threatens to lay waste to Racetrack and did you see Adama in the coup scene in the CIC? Props to Edward James Olmos for a fine, fine performance that really allows the viewer to buy into the seriousness of the situation. It's largely the script that is responsible for the nail-biting atmosphere, however: predicating the narratology on a sequence of timed occurrences gives the plot a disquietingly laconic feel, allowing events to 'puncture' the story rather than for the story to belie the events. This structure gives the viewer a prominent sense of urgency and accutely reflects the sense of concern that is inherent in the reactions of the characters on both sides of the political fence. And as for that final sequence, well, we all know that Adama and Sol are gonna make it to the end of the series but even so, this is a maddeningly intense moment to leave us hanging on. Let's hope part two can live up to the lofty highs promised by its predecessor. Another triumph. 9.4
Wr: Mark Verheiden
Dr: John Dahl
Synopsis: Adama continues with his plan to use Cylon drive technology on Colonial ships. The closer ties between the rebel Cylons and the humans sets off a violent uprising in the fleet.
Review: Well, the Battlestar Galactica forums certainly aren't replete with complaints this week. Far from it, in fact: 'The Oath' seems to have generated the kind of infectious buzz unseen since our four friendly Cylons crawled out of the woodwork at the end of season three. The general consensus, it seems, is that 'stuff happened' in this episode and, as a result, that equals good. While the logic is flawed at best, the outcome is certainly on the money: Mark Verherden's script is a delectable flurry of chaotic activity, throwing the entire Galactica world up in the air and letting it shatter into a thousand dark, ugly pieces. Far more than the revelation about Earth, the events that occur in 'The Oath' change the shape of the narrative in seemingly unreconcilable ways. Will anything ever be the same now that around two thirds of the fleet has mutined? Now that innocent Galacticans have been murdered by Gaeta and Zarek's 'revolutionaries'? Now that a political and military coup has occurred? They're locking up Cylons and Cylon 'sympathisers' for Christ's sake! Gaeta's taken command of the damn fleet! They arrested Adama and Sol! And now, they're about to fire on the President's ship! Holy mother of frack, just what in the name of Pithia is going on?!
Well, the aftermath, that's what. This is what loss, disappointment and the fanning of bigoted flames will yet you. There is absolutely no way that the events of 'The Oath' could have believably taken place if we had not had the kind of narrative development that occurred in 'A Disquiet Follows My Soul'. Last week's quiet examination of the nature of fear and loathing was absolutely needed to allow for the developments in this two parter. In fact, I'd argue that it is still possibly too sudden. Major changes do occur rather quickly: virtually the entire crew of the Galactica is ready to turn on those they've worked closely with for the past few years. We perhaps could have used an additional episode to show just how Gaeta won around his cohorts... but this is a minor criticism. It could be argued that the hour quite admirably reflects the social climate often needed for revolution to occur: after all, so many are sprawling, chaotic and, most importantly, sporadic. Verhedern does an excellent job of demonstrating the wealth of variables that can intrude on even the most well laid plans: Gaeta's struggles in the CIC are particularly reflective of this.
'The Oath' is certainly an addictively tense episode. Everyone is at the top of their game and at the height of their emotions, which keeps things permanently on edge: check out Starbuck as she threatens to lay waste to Racetrack and did you see Adama in the coup scene in the CIC? Props to Edward James Olmos for a fine, fine performance that really allows the viewer to buy into the seriousness of the situation. It's largely the script that is responsible for the nail-biting atmosphere, however: predicating the narratology on a sequence of timed occurrences gives the plot a disquietingly laconic feel, allowing events to 'puncture' the story rather than for the story to belie the events. This structure gives the viewer a prominent sense of urgency and accutely reflects the sense of concern that is inherent in the reactions of the characters on both sides of the political fence. And as for that final sequence, well, we all know that Adama and Sol are gonna make it to the end of the series but even so, this is a maddeningly intense moment to leave us hanging on. Let's hope part two can live up to the lofty highs promised by its predecessor. Another triumph. 9.4
Sunday, 1 February 2009
Reviews: Fringe 111/112
111: 'Bound'
Wr: J.J. Abrams, Roberto Orci, Jeff Pinkner & Alex Kurtzman
Dr: Frederick E.O. Toye
Synopsis: After undergoing a strange medical procedure, Olivia escapes her abductors only to discover she's the target of investigation by a vengeful Homeland Security consultant assigned to monitor the Fringe Division. Meanwhile, Olivia's sister Rachel comes to visit, and the team investigates the case of an epidemiologist who was killed by a giant cold virus.
Review: When the writers' credit for a single episode contains no less than four names, you know you're in for a bit of a cluster fuck. 'Bound' feels like a decidedly disjointed effort, perhaps reflecting the method of its composition. It certainly isn't much of a stretch to determine that a couple of folks worked on the investigation, one handled the (somewhat unwelcome) character drama and the other, namely J.J. Abrams, focused on the elements pertaining to the show's on-going mythology which, it must be said, were frustratingly obtuse and maddeningly minuscule. Within the space of the first seven minutes, the episode puts to bed the highly dramatic cliffhanger that we ended 'Safe' on, and this feels rather like a cop out. After giving us a month's build, thirty days of pondering just what happened to Olivia and how she and her fellow Fringe Division compadres are going to handle it, she's out of her kidnappers' hands quicker than you can say 'postulated'? And with a trick as completely obvious as asking for a fucking glass of water? Oh come on. Are you telling me these people have been living in a cave all their lives? That they aren't aware that it's Kidnapping 101 not to let your victim do or so anything? Jesus tap dancing Christ. So anyway, with this pesky cliffhanger out of the way, 'Bound' gets down to the apparently important stuff: introducing two utterly pointless, and thoroughly annoying, peripheral characters into the mix in an effort to create, ooo, 'conflict' and, aaah, 'emotional resonance'. Pah. The introduction of the FBI agent who just happened to be the guy that Olivia put away for sexual assault is completely and utterly contrived and, rather than create inticing tension, is simply going to royally piss viewers off. This tool? Hampering all of the investigations? Sticking his nose in where it really, really isn't wanted? It's not interesting guys, it's just annoying. And as for the sister... well, the jury's out I suppose as she didn't really do anything but then, that's possibly the point. It seems she is going to be used to give the writers an excuse to have Olivia reflect on the complex nature of her life every once in a while. Which would be fine if we actually cared. But frankly, what with all the crazy spinal taps, super size common colds and matter penetration that's going on around Ms Dunham, there are other things we'd rather spend our time with, thanks. The investigation narrative is actually quite entertaining, if only because the idea is a novel one, and at least we get to see the duplicitous Mitchell Loeb again and he gives a couple of intriguing lines, particularly relating to the idea that they are trying to 'save' Olivia rather than cause her any harm. Still, it would be nice if we could have a little more of this and a little less irritating character 'drama'. Reading this back, I have perhaps been a little unfair to 'Bound': it certainly isn't a bad episode; in fact, it's quite an enjoyable one. It's just, after the grandiose events of 'Safe', I was really expecting something more. I mean, we didn't even get to see Mr. Jones. Meh. 7.9
112: 'The No-Brainer'
Wr: David H. Goodman & Brad Caleb Kane
Dr: John Polson
Synopsis: Olivia, Walter and Peter are brought in to try and stop a killer with the ability to liquefy the human brain.
Review: With each passing week, Fringe becomes more and more like The X Files. And Alias. Which wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing if it weren't the more regrettable qualities of these particular shows that it chooses to emulate. 'The No-Brainer' is very much a stand alone episode, taking a side step from the mythology of the Pattern to deliver a kooky story about a highly intelligent computer programmer who has somehow developed the ability to liquefy people's brains by looking at a series of images on their computer screen. Uh huh. Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? That's because it is. To this writer's mind, Fringe abandoned all semblance of scientific credibility many, many episodes back so it's not too much to swallow. What I refuse to blindly accept, however, is that virtually no explanation is given as to the how and why. At least in previous instalments, some attempt has been made (often with rather laughable pseudo-science, admittedly) to delineate the way in which the event is actually possible. Here, Bishop mumbles something about computer viruses transferrable to humans and that's it. Nothing about the science behind such an idea (although there is a jargon-filled sentence or two thrown in there, just to beguile), nothing about why 'what's that noise?' is even remotely significant, everything just is. And I'm sorry, but I have a hard time buying into what is effectively lazy writing. Things don't get much better elsewhere, unfortunately: while we get a nice cameo from Mary Beth Piel (my fellow Dawson's Creek fans and I were squeeing like crazy), and the scene between she and Walter is nicely done, the other character beats just fall infuriatingly flat. First, the sister. She's still there, hanging around like a bad smell, giving Olivia a chance to sit on a couch, listening to MOR acoustic music and talk about 'her life', and now it looks like she might have designs on Peter (great! Romantic distractions we don't care about!) Then there's Sanford Harris who needs to get off our screens as soon as possible. There he goes again, getting in the way of the progression of the narrative and just generally pissing everyone off. Whomever thought introducing an irritating piss weasel like this into the story was a good idea needs to be forcibly ejected from the world of television pronto. As with 'Bound', I suspect my inherent distaste for these particular elements of the narrative may be clouding my judgment of the whole. 'The No-Brainer' is a decent episode. It coasts along at a fairly stable rate and can be enjoyed at face value as an entertaining piece of dramatic television, provided you don't think about it too much. And look away whenever Michael Gaston's on the screen. Come on Fringe... you can do better than this. 7.2
Wr: J.J. Abrams, Roberto Orci, Jeff Pinkner & Alex Kurtzman
Dr: Frederick E.O. Toye
Synopsis: After undergoing a strange medical procedure, Olivia escapes her abductors only to discover she's the target of investigation by a vengeful Homeland Security consultant assigned to monitor the Fringe Division. Meanwhile, Olivia's sister Rachel comes to visit, and the team investigates the case of an epidemiologist who was killed by a giant cold virus.
Review: When the writers' credit for a single episode contains no less than four names, you know you're in for a bit of a cluster fuck. 'Bound' feels like a decidedly disjointed effort, perhaps reflecting the method of its composition. It certainly isn't much of a stretch to determine that a couple of folks worked on the investigation, one handled the (somewhat unwelcome) character drama and the other, namely J.J. Abrams, focused on the elements pertaining to the show's on-going mythology which, it must be said, were frustratingly obtuse and maddeningly minuscule. Within the space of the first seven minutes, the episode puts to bed the highly dramatic cliffhanger that we ended 'Safe' on, and this feels rather like a cop out. After giving us a month's build, thirty days of pondering just what happened to Olivia and how she and her fellow Fringe Division compadres are going to handle it, she's out of her kidnappers' hands quicker than you can say 'postulated'? And with a trick as completely obvious as asking for a fucking glass of water? Oh come on. Are you telling me these people have been living in a cave all their lives? That they aren't aware that it's Kidnapping 101 not to let your victim do or so anything? Jesus tap dancing Christ. So anyway, with this pesky cliffhanger out of the way, 'Bound' gets down to the apparently important stuff: introducing two utterly pointless, and thoroughly annoying, peripheral characters into the mix in an effort to create, ooo, 'conflict' and, aaah, 'emotional resonance'. Pah. The introduction of the FBI agent who just happened to be the guy that Olivia put away for sexual assault is completely and utterly contrived and, rather than create inticing tension, is simply going to royally piss viewers off. This tool? Hampering all of the investigations? Sticking his nose in where it really, really isn't wanted? It's not interesting guys, it's just annoying. And as for the sister... well, the jury's out I suppose as she didn't really do anything but then, that's possibly the point. It seems she is going to be used to give the writers an excuse to have Olivia reflect on the complex nature of her life every once in a while. Which would be fine if we actually cared. But frankly, what with all the crazy spinal taps, super size common colds and matter penetration that's going on around Ms Dunham, there are other things we'd rather spend our time with, thanks. The investigation narrative is actually quite entertaining, if only because the idea is a novel one, and at least we get to see the duplicitous Mitchell Loeb again and he gives a couple of intriguing lines, particularly relating to the idea that they are trying to 'save' Olivia rather than cause her any harm. Still, it would be nice if we could have a little more of this and a little less irritating character 'drama'. Reading this back, I have perhaps been a little unfair to 'Bound': it certainly isn't a bad episode; in fact, it's quite an enjoyable one. It's just, after the grandiose events of 'Safe', I was really expecting something more. I mean, we didn't even get to see Mr. Jones. Meh. 7.9
112: 'The No-Brainer'
Wr: David H. Goodman & Brad Caleb Kane
Dr: John Polson
Synopsis: Olivia, Walter and Peter are brought in to try and stop a killer with the ability to liquefy the human brain.
Review: With each passing week, Fringe becomes more and more like The X Files. And Alias. Which wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing if it weren't the more regrettable qualities of these particular shows that it chooses to emulate. 'The No-Brainer' is very much a stand alone episode, taking a side step from the mythology of the Pattern to deliver a kooky story about a highly intelligent computer programmer who has somehow developed the ability to liquefy people's brains by looking at a series of images on their computer screen. Uh huh. Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? That's because it is. To this writer's mind, Fringe abandoned all semblance of scientific credibility many, many episodes back so it's not too much to swallow. What I refuse to blindly accept, however, is that virtually no explanation is given as to the how and why. At least in previous instalments, some attempt has been made (often with rather laughable pseudo-science, admittedly) to delineate the way in which the event is actually possible. Here, Bishop mumbles something about computer viruses transferrable to humans and that's it. Nothing about the science behind such an idea (although there is a jargon-filled sentence or two thrown in there, just to beguile), nothing about why 'what's that noise?' is even remotely significant, everything just is. And I'm sorry, but I have a hard time buying into what is effectively lazy writing. Things don't get much better elsewhere, unfortunately: while we get a nice cameo from Mary Beth Piel (my fellow Dawson's Creek fans and I were squeeing like crazy), and the scene between she and Walter is nicely done, the other character beats just fall infuriatingly flat. First, the sister. She's still there, hanging around like a bad smell, giving Olivia a chance to sit on a couch, listening to MOR acoustic music and talk about 'her life', and now it looks like she might have designs on Peter (great! Romantic distractions we don't care about!) Then there's Sanford Harris who needs to get off our screens as soon as possible. There he goes again, getting in the way of the progression of the narrative and just generally pissing everyone off. Whomever thought introducing an irritating piss weasel like this into the story was a good idea needs to be forcibly ejected from the world of television pronto. As with 'Bound', I suspect my inherent distaste for these particular elements of the narrative may be clouding my judgment of the whole. 'The No-Brainer' is a decent episode. It coasts along at a fairly stable rate and can be enjoyed at face value as an entertaining piece of dramatic television, provided you don't think about it too much. And look away whenever Michael Gaston's on the screen. Come on Fringe... you can do better than this. 7.2
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