Archive for November, 2008
This week on Prison Break, the Breakouts defeat their enemies, achieve their goal, vanquish those who would harm them — and then discover they’re just as screwed as they’d always been. Dagnabbit! When are these crazy kids going to get their shot at a shirtless paradise?
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When last we left the Breakouts, it looked like they’d made a fatal mistake in their quest for Scylla. Michael moved the mini-monolith, and the General came a-running. “You almost beat it,” the General sneers. “The frustration must be killing you.” But it was all a part of the plan — they needed the General’s card, and he just brought it right to them. The General remains smug — you’re still missing several cards. Au contraire, says Michael, exhibiting his wares. How did you get all five cards?” the General gasps. “The frustration must be killing you,” Michael smugs back at him. I believe Sucre sums up the situation most poetically. Quoth Fernando, “Suck it, General.”
Of course, there are still several obstacles. For example, Gretchen and T-Bag are heavily armed and waiting for the Breakouts at Gate, and the General has a whole bunch of goons at his beck and call. Still, Michael and Co. decide to leave via Company elevator. The General thinks he’s on firmer ground now — you’ll never make it! I can give you anything you want! Just give in, and all will be well! You can’t kill me, or you lose your leverage! Ah, but the Breakouts have planned for that. See, Lisa, the icy other woman in the General’s gang, is interrupted in her lunch by a soup dumped on her lap. A gun-toting Sarah is waiting in the bathroom for her. Remember that little piece of evidence Gretchen passed along when she didn’t get the General’s card? That was her telling Michael that Lisa was the General’s daughter. Bingo — leverage.
With Lisa in peril, the General agrees to walk the Breakouts out past the gantlet of goons. But they won’t get far, he vows. Plus, he gives Linc and Michael a little parting gift — you know your dad used to work for us, right? He was an executioner — a Death Fairy. Now the men he trained will be after you.
Company thugs tail the Breakouts to the Ontario airport. The Breakouts split up, with Mahone and Sucre heading off on land while Linc and Michael take the bag containing Scylla and head for a plane. The goons ground everything, then make their move. They take Michael’s bag — but it was a clever switch! Sucre smuggled Scylla out in his pants! (Lucky, lucky Scylla…) The Breakouts present Scylla to Self, who thanks them effusively, hands them their transfer papers, tells them to await the parade (ok, FBI convoy) and walks off into the sunset. Nothing suspicious about that at all…
Of course, there was plenty more going on while the Breakouts were thus engaged. Feng was still holding self and Trishann captive. Trishann has an amusing meltdown — “You’re the worst partner I ever worked with! Leaving me with the one-handed freak and the crazy bitch while you hang out with GQ!” — which distracts the thugs long enough for Self to unlock his cuffs with a hidden key, then take out the thugs. He unlocks Trishann, who shoots Feng as he was aiming at Self. Self doesn’t seem happy about that. Hmm.
Back at Gate, Gretchen and T-Bag are preparing a warm welcome for the Breakouts. Smarmy boss Mr. White comes in to schmooze Gretchen and catches sight of the guns. Doh! Gretchen proceeds to take the whole office hostage. Trishann comes back to the office and frees the captives, but Mr. White proves to be a craven idiot when he decides he’ll make a break for it — and he fails utterly at sneaking. Gretchen proves to be the rare bad guy who can, in fact, hit the broad side of a barn with automatic weaponry, and White dies. Gretchen and T-Bag make a run for the garage. Gretchen comes thisclose to killing T-Bag, but Trishann shows up with her Fedmobile and interrupts. Gretchen runs, and Trishann nabs T-Bag. Poor guy — he just wanted to stay a salesman!
Trishann takes T-Bag to the rendezvous point, where Self arrives bearing Scylla. He’s bummed that Gretchen got away, and he quizzes Trishann on other potential buyers now that Feng is dead. Trishann says T-Bag will spill as soon as they get him into an interrogation room. So Self shoots her. Self! You double-crossing rat! He was in it for the money! Back at Breakouts HQ, the Breakouts FINALLY start to get suspicious after they’ve waited for their parade for an hour. Michael opens the envelope full of ‘transfer papers” to find a sheaf of blank pages. Doh!
Highlights, thoughts and odds and ends
- I can’t tell whether Trishann’s meltdown, where she hysterically (in both senses of the word) called Self the worst partner ever, was sincere or was a ploy to distract. I hope it was the former.
- The Breakouts beset the General’s goons as soon as they step off the elevator. They were unwilling to put down their guns — until Mahone aimed his pistol at Scylla. Nicely done, Mahone.
- The Breakouts all made themselves comfortable in the General’s office as they awaited word from Sarah. I love that Sucre raided the General’s liquor cabinet. Hee!
- The General tried to bluff his way out of the leverage situation — Sarah Tancredi wouldn’t hurt a fly! Maybe that was true once, Michael says — before you tortured her. Makes you reconsider that whole policy, doesn’t it?
- Linc was quite happy to rub the General’s nose in their victory — ” I guess right now you wish you’d framed somebody else, huh, General?”
- Michael stuffed the bag the Company goons took from him with a book — “All’s Well that Ends Well.” Ah, but Michael — you forgot that this NEVER seems to end…
- After Trishann caught him, T-Bag lamented that he could have been a salesman-contender, if not for his past. He spouted Gate-speak — he’s caught in the negativity of a past identity, yadda yadda yadda — then pauses. “Who’da thought they actually be right bout something?”
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Many great works of art have dealt with the question, “What does it mean to be human?” I wouldn’t exactly put Heroes in the upper echelon of art, but I give it props for at least trying to apply the question to its own universe. The result? As with almost everything Heroes, a mixed bag. Furthermore, tonight’s episode was little more than a long setup for next week’s payoffs, so those looking for answers were left in the cold. Those looking to explore age-old questions? Well, they found quite a bit to chew on.
First off: the eclipse seen in the pilot episode did NOT activate their powers. I don’t know why the show wants us to believe this. It’s patently untrue. So to hear Peter Petrelli talk about Nathan’s first flight during that last eclipse really irks me, and should irk anyone who cares about long-term continuity. If you recall, the show devoted an entire episode (the seminal “Six Months Ago”) in which they showed how many powers were already exhibiting well before that eclipse. While the last eclipse may have augmented various abilities, it did not create them. Also? There’s an entire generation of superpowered people that were doing their thing well before that eclipse! We good? Good. Moon and stars above, I need a drink.
All of that continuity critique aside, the impending eclipse both lent an urgency to the proceedings at hand and gave our main cast of characters time to recognize just how much their powers factor into their sense of self. To hear Gabriel say, “We’re just human,” one recognizes that those on both sides of the fence–heroes and villains–see themselves as fundamentally different than their counterparts on this planet. That might sounds like an obvious point to make, but the difference seems to lie not so much in what they can do as much as how their abilities shape their self-identification. These people simply do not know who they are without their powers.
To some, this return to humanity is paralyzing. To yet others, liberating. But the eclipse forces everyone to step outside of themselves in order to evaluate what these powers mean, and what they are truly meant to achieve. Take Parkman, for instance. Without his power, he feels like a hollow shell of doughy man, unable to provide Daphne with any comfort or protection. For her part, Daphne is now the show’s resident John Locke, running away from her crippled past, yet unable to sprint fast enough to avoid the eclipse. Both view themselves as fundamentally flawed as “just human,” unworthy of any type of respect, admiration, or love from each other.
In Claire’s case, her loss of power transformed her from an unkillable entity back into someone’s daughter. That might sound like a step back to some, but provided the necessary bridge to reconnect with her estranged adoptive father. I couldn’t have been the only Heroes fan to see glimpses of “Company Man” in this episode. HRG’s relationship with Claire was one of Season 1’s strongest components, and it’s been sorely wasted over the past two years. I loved watching Claire’s combo agony/elation at realizing she can once again feel something, even if it’s pain. And I loved hearing the words “Claire Bear” again. Yea, I’m a sap. Sue me.
In some cases, the eclipse not only removed powers, but altered moods. How else to explain the Petrelli Brothers’ Fightin’ Hour, or Elle’s sudden “kill ‘em all” attitude towards Sylar? Both came pretty far out of left field, even for Heroes. I know the show likes to choose the dramatic importance of a scene over consistent characterization. But I’m getting whiplash trying to decide if Elle wants to save Gabriel or re-ignite Sylar, or why Nathan’s fraternal relationship with Peter suddenly took a turn for the worse in Haiti. These reactions have nearly nothing to do with what’s come before it, and gives the show the dreaded “we’re totally winging this” vibe thats death to shows like this.
A few other tidbits from tonight’s episode:
- Not sure why the show kept on upping the gross quotient on Mohinder’s appearance, but by the time he was “birthed” from his webbed cocoon I cursed the heavens for making me look at things that nasty. And just when Dr. D’oh looked normal, he threatened to bring back Maya to the show. The eclipse is an unjust and merciless god.
- Loved the montage in which Arthur’s drawings paralleled events around the globe. Really strong mixture of music and imagery there.
- Put Noah in a room with three other non-superpowered people? Noah emerges victorious. That felt totally and completely right.
- Was I supposed to shout out, “Hey, it’s the Robot Chicken guys!” when Seth Green and Breckin Meyer popped up onscreen? Because I did. Sure, it took me completely out of the show’s universe and called attention to its very artifice, but hey, least it was a cheap gag. So there’s there.
- What does it say about Arthur Petrelli’s status as a criminal mastermind that he couldn’t wait until after the eclipse’s end to start freaking out about the superpower outage? Also? He’s relying on Mohinder! The man’s unwittingly undone two world-ending plots already, Arthur. If anything, you want him working for the good guys. That would almost guarantee your success.
While walking with the Petrellis through the jungle, the Haitian casually notes, “”The universe has decided our fate.” I’m not entirely sure this true. If anything, the universe has afforded everyone time to basically stop, inhale, and truly think about the choices to come. These people are not mere puppets; if anything, there heroism comes from facing the inevitable and fighting anyways. After all, Heroes consistently shows how one person can alter the course of future events. While certain things are destined to happen, there are still things not written in stone. And while they may be scribbled upon a sheet of paper, it’s still within the power of the parties involved to change things. Maybe they can’t change them drastically, but even a small amount might be the difference between life and death.
After all, an eclipse covers the majority of the sun, but light still manages to escape along the edges.
You know what I think of when I think of Boston Legal? I think of courts and trials. I think of judges and juries. However, there was no court case tonight. There may have been a bunch of judges and a jury, but that’s only because there was a friend-filled Thanksgiving dinner at Shirley Schmidt’s.
That’s right, there was no court case. Instead, with just a few episodes left in the series, we learned that Crane, Poole, and Schmidt was going broke. Belly up. Bankrupt. What could they do (not that they all knew, but go with me)? They all celebrated Thanksgiving together. All the usual suspects were there, and even Melvin Palmer, Edwin Poole, and Poole’s new foster child showed.
I have to say, Shirley has quite the digs, not that I would have expected any less. There really wasn’t a lot of furniture in the place, which I thought odd, but maybe Shirley is more of a minimalist than I pictured her to be. Either that or she sold everything in order to help keep the firm afloat. Nah… that couldn’t be it. Maybe she had just broken everything as part of her case of nerves hosting a party. Yup, that seems more likely.
The dinner itself was a hoot. It was a hoot before it even began. Alan wanted to say grace, but Denny objected when Alan instantly invoked God (Alan not believing in Denny’s version of God), and grace disappeared. Then, as the food was starting to be passed, Alan said something about the firm’s systemic racism (it came up due to an insensitive remark Denny made about Poole’s African-American ward). Alan then ranted, raved, and spouted facts as though he were delivering a closing.
Shirley booted him from the house, or at least she should have booted him. She tried to boot him. She asked him to leave, but Carl didn’t let her carry out the order. Looking at Shirley you could just tell that she was itching to let everyone know that the firm was going under.
Edwin went so far, when asked by Alan what was going on with him, to refer to his “economic Armageddon.” Shirley compounded Edwin’s semi-bean spilling by referring to that as a secret, and naturally Alan wanted in. And that is where things went bad. Very bad.
Over the course of the next few minutes Jerry went off on Katie, saying things it would be difficult to take back, and then Denny forgot that it was Thanksgiving. He thought it was his birthday and that he and Shirley were, perhaps, still together.
I ask you, do we really need that many possible storyline finales thrown into this episode, and did those two particular ones have to come back to back? The show has known for an awfully long time that this abbreviated season would be it for them, they didn’t have to cram everything into one holiday turkey of an episode.
Maybe it wasn’t quite that bad, but at that moment it certainly felt like it.
In the scenes that followed the show tried to take bits and pieces of those moments back. Denny minimized his issue, and Alan said that it was unlikely that Denny would develop a serious problem from his mad cow before dying of old age. They weren’t minimizing the problem so much as putting it into perspective. Jerry, as we knew he would, apologized to Katie. He even announced his love for her. She was taken aback by that. Seriously. I kid you not, she didn’t realize how Jerry felt about her. Do you think she was just too close to the issue?
So, with nothing better to do, they all went back to the table and it took about two seconds for Denny to point out that Edwin, being mentally unbalanced, ought not be allowed by the government to raise a child. Edwin got frustrated and hinted at the bankruptcy again. Then Shirley got all sentimental about this being her first dinner without her father, she got up from the table (again) and Edwin finally let the bankruptcy cat out of the bag.
Alan was more than a little perturbed. You can understand why, the man is, after all, a partner in the firm, but he seemed more perturbed than Denny who ought to have been pissed at never having been informed. Eventually Denny did get pissed, but he seemed just as angry that Carl was dating Shirley as he was that the firm he had put his blood, sweat, and tears into was tanking. It took Carl’s revealing an engagement ring to Denny to shut him up.
Well, that at least explained why Carl was so moody about not having the quiet evening at home with Shirley that he had hoped for. By that point in the show, Carl had decided he wasn’t going to pop the question, the timing wasn’t really great, but Alan, Denny, and Edwin all suggested that he do it anyway. They wanted him to be happy which showed how much of a family the folks at the firm are. I don’t think that it was really appropriate for Denny to show Shirley the ring and propose (with some help from Alan) on Carl’s behalf, but it was sort of sweet.
And there the episode ended.
Oh come on, Boston Legal doesn’t do that sort of thing. She said “yes,” and was all happy. Dessert was then served and everyone was happy. I guess they forgot the firm was going under. Either that or Alan’s closing speech during dessert put them all to sleep.
Alan and Denny did end up on the balcony back at the firm after dinner, which I liked, but even that conversation (which revolved mostly around Denny’s illness) didn’t do much to save an episode that could have been better. I like the idea behind this episode – the firm’s Thanksgiving dinner, I just would have done it differently. I don’t know how, but I would have.
That is, of course, the question of the week – if you were doing a Crane, Poole, and Schmidt Thanksgiving, would you have done it this way? I think maybe they needed some sort of kangaroo court setup at Shirley’s.
So what does an extra-long episode of Fringe look like? Well, sort of like a regular episode, although bloated. Only fitting to show such an episode just before Thanksgiving, really. This week’s outing could be compared to your Uncle Ted about an hour after ingesting his body weight in cranberry sauce: not exactly the shining example of “the more, the merrier.” While individual elements were interesting, tonight’s episode showed that sometimes less is indeed more.
Let’s start with the good: finally placing Massive Dynamic at the center of the conspiracy. Sure, the corporation has danced around the edges of The Pattern to date, but by episode’s end we had a good and proper antagonistic relationship between Olivia Dunham and Nina Sharp. Awesome. About time. This particular pairing works on several levels. For one, it gives Olivia’s character focus. For too many episodes, she has essentially sat on the sidelines while the Bishop Boys did all the cool, fun, sexy stuff. And secondly, her stake in this struggle is personal: in learning about Sharp’s true motives, she hopes to eventually learn about John Scott’s true motives.
What brought John back into Olivia’s consciousness? Why, the Pattern of the Week, of course. This week’s edition? Something concocted by a person who clearly admired the film Young Sherlock Holmes. After all, both that film and tonight’s episode featured a toxin that literally scares people to death. Of course, the Holmes version merely caused people to unwittingly commit suicide. Fringe took this idea and gave it the little extra J.J. Abrams zing: this time around, the fear biologically manifests itself within the victim. So, if you think you’re being attacked by killer butterflies, well, your body will start tearing itself to shreds from the inside out. Fringe science: it’s faaaaaaaantastic!
Turns out the victim of this particular Butterfly Effect, one Mark Young, once worked with John Scott. We know this thanks to Olivia’s re-entry into Walter Bishop’s Mystery Tank, in which she went daydreaming through the memories obtained from John in the series premiere. Confused? Don’t worry: the takeaway is that while Olivia dreamed a little dream, she located a smuggler named George Morales, whom she later identified in the real world thanks to Young’s cryptic “MONARCH” reference in his weekly planner. Turns out “MONARCH” was Morales’ phone number, and not a shout-out to television’s best baddie. Oh well.
Dunham soon had Morales in custody. Case closed, right? Wrong. Turns out Morales has some info for Dunham: The Pattern is simply a “smokescreen” perpetrated by Massive Dynamic in order to run rampant and do whatever it wants. “Massive Dynamic is hell, and it’s founder, William Bell, is the Devil,” he tells Olivia. Why does he trust her? Because John Scott did. Altogether now: awww. Morales’ words seem to carry some weight, as he fell victim to the same toxin as Young while Dunham interrogated Nina Sharp and her Wonder Woman-esque bracelets of power. (Seriously: in every scene tonight, she wore ridiculous, gauntlet-esque bracelets. I couldn’t tell if she was running a company or attending a Renaissance fair.)
Now, is Massive Dynamic truly behind all this? After all, Broyles told Dunham a few episodes ago that the Pattern was the byproduct of various scientific cells around the world using the world as their laboratory. Both Broyles and Morales can’t be right. So who is? Here’s a hint: no large corporation in the history of popular culture has ever, EVER been a force for truth, justice, and the goodness in this world. Even when governments go corrupt in mass entertainment, it’s due to interference from nefarious corporations. So I’m gonna go out on a limb here and call Massive Dynamic capital-E Evil here.
Now, is Broyles consciously lying to Dunham? Doubtful. But we know he’s in constant contact with Nina Sharp, and we know he can’t even detect that his friend Mitchell Loeb is a mole. So perhaps Broyles isn’t exactly the safest source for canonical mythology for us, the viewing audience. This weakens Broyles slightly as a character, but come on: this is Lance Freakin’ Reddick here. If he learns that he’s been played, there will be no small amount of great vengeance OR furious anger. More than likely, the tension between Dunham and Broyles over Massive Dynamic’s role will boil over the tipping point (hello, February sweeps), only to have him come around and save Dunham from certain Dynamic doom later on (hello, May sweeps).
With the focus so heavily on Dunham this week, the Bishop Boys were left with little to do. After last week’s Walter-centric episode, it makes sense that he stayed in the background for the majority of this edition. At least he got a nice moment of almost paternal care for Olivia at the end when he refused a third trip into the Mystery Tank. But Peter? Poor Peter was saddled with a side story that would have been better served in another episode. With everything surrounding Dunham this week, there was simply too little time to spend on figures from Peter’s past starting to bubble up in the Boston area. Fringe could have imparted all this info in another week or two and done no harm at all. I’m 100% for revealing elements of Peter’s past, but Fringe didn’t do him or us any favors this time around.
Had Fringe been its normal length, perhaps Peter’s plot would have been excised: it certainly would have been the easiest thing to cut for length. But faced with the happy problem of having to produce a longer-than-normal episode, Fringe seemed to tack on these scenes in order to fulfill a corporate mandate rather than satisfy its creative impulses. (See? I told you. Corporations are always, always evil.) I’m all for doling out backstory on a continual basis, but there’s something to be said for focused storytelling as well. The balance is difficult, to be sure. But with a guaranteed full season, Fringe can afford to pick and choose the right time to tell the story it wants to between now and June.
Other tidbits from tonight’s episode:
- Loved the shout-out to Lost, courtesy of the “Oceanic Air” on Young’s ticket. Sadly, not one character shouted, “We have to go back!” at any point tonight. Depressing.
- Couldn’t have Fringe picked a better phrase than “hasta luego” for Dunham to identify Morales? I mean, honestly. Just a touch stereotypical, no? The only other phrase that could have been worse would have been, “Rico suave.”
- I want a laptop with the battery power of the one Olivia owns. She never seems to plug the thing in, and yet, it’s always ready to power up when a dead man sends her psychic emails. Amazing.
- I know I wasn’t supposed to laugh when Mark Young fell all Matrix-like to the ground, surrounded by butterflies, but I did. That was just a little silly, sorry. I wish he’d gone whole hog and just said, “Whoa,” right before impact.
- I know I mock Olivia’s character for being emotionally reticent (to put it kindly), but I did appreciate her line to John in her dream walk: “I loved you. Tonight, during dinner, I loved you.” More of that, please. After all, the central conflict of the show features her never-ending pursuit for the truth about her ex in the face of a seemingly unstoppable global conglomerate. It would kinda help to show, not tell, us how much she truly cared for this man.
- Are we supposed to wonder why Mark Young was late for his meeting? And what is the extent of the “Extense-A-Life” project?
After the last two strong episodes, this one felt like a bit of a let down. Nowhere near as bad as the one involving a self-burrowing torpedo, but a let down all the same. That’s the problem when a show produces stellar work: you want them to keep doing it. Crazy, I know. But Fringe has set the bar to a higher level these past few weeks, and I’d be wrong to say this episode met that new threshold. Interesting ideas were introduced, and will no doubt pay off down the line. Hopefully a return to its fighting weight will re-ignite the spark lit over the past few weeks.
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Tonight, House was introduced to a new way to approach health care reform: armed and dangerously.
The slow-motion opening montage is proof positive that this is sure to be a dramatic evening. Or perhaps melodramatic. 13 is performing clinic hours and is accosted by a man insisting all he needs is a refill for his migraine meds, but she’s only interested in seeing emergency patients. The guy rightly points out that she’s not in the ER and she warns him not to piss her off. Her bedside manner is as warm and fuzzy as House himself - who is at that same moment, rifling through Cuddy’s desk. Foreman approaches 13 and offers her a place in his Huntington’s drug trial, but she passes, admitting she’s not doing any treatment at all.
A patient comes in from the waiting room and asks if Cuddy is in and House promptly tells the man to get lost. He does, but he’s back a moment later, with a gun in hand and about a dozen hostages - including 13 and migraine man. He demands to see the best doctor in the hospital, otherwise he’s going to start killing people. The man has seen 16 doctors and had countless tests in the last two years and still no one can identify what his shortness of breath, random rashes, heart palpitations, stomach pains and insomnia are related to. And he’s willing to go to jail to get a diagnosis. It’s the perfect patient for House!
The hospital is evacuated and House gets to work on the POTW. And by ‘get to work’, I mean ‘try to figure out why he’s come in with a gun to get a diagnosis’. He insinuates that the man’s wife left him, only to find out he’s never been married. Stymied, he asks one of the hostages for a lighter. One of them makes a move towards Cuddy’s desk and he warns them all not to touch it. Interesting. A lighter is passed over and when the POTW can’t blow it out from arm’s length, we get the first possible diagnosis: pulmonary scleroderma. House says “Case solved, see you on visitor’s day”, but we all know that was way too easy.
The phone rings and House answers it with a merry “Crime scene!” to hear Cuddy asking if everyone is OK. The POTW wants a test to confirm the diagnosis and House gamely orders up a shot, to be delivered by Cuddy. She’s clearly nervous about House’s involvement, but it’s less clear if she’s nervous because she cares or just because…well, it’s House. When the shot arrives, the POTW balks and wants it to be given to a hostage first. House points out that the hostages are all either sick, pregnant or on painkillers themselves and the POTW points out that migraine main is pain med free, since that’s why he was there in the first place. Migraine man tells them to give it to 13 instead and House calls him a creep before giving him the shot.
House then approaches the POTW to administer the same shot, but before he can, migraine main falls to the floor. The POTW points the gun at House, but has to agree when House illustrates the err in logic behind shooting the doctor who’s working on his diagnosis. So he shoots a hostage in the leg instead, just to prove he’s not to be messed with. The phone is ringing again but the POTW is not in the mood to talk, so he simply picks up and hangs up, as outside, SWAT moves in. The head of SWAT asks Cuddy if she has a loved one inside and she denies it, but the look on her face speaks differently.
House gets the old and new teams on a conference call and lists the POTW’s symptoms. Chase storms out in protest of giving the guy what he wants and the rest of them get their assignments, as far as test running and house snooping. Back in Cuddy’s office, the POTW suddenly freaks out, hearing people at the window. He peeks through the blinds into the barrel of a weapon and points his gun at the nearest hostage, telling SWAT to back away. House notices a small bug on the window, but is more interested in the new symptom that emerged, since the POTW heard them at the window when no one else did. He and 13 theorize on what could cause amped hearing as well as a general weakness on the left side of the face. And I thought crooked grins were charming.
They come up with another diagnostic theory, only the test for this one (a form of herpes) is incredibly painful if the person does not have the illness. When House orders up 200 micrograms of capsaicin, it makes sense why it would hurt. Capsaicin is the active component of chili peppers. If the herpes infection is present in the nerves, apparently the person will remain pain free. A few hostages are released in exchange for the drug, the one he shot and the migraine man, and 13 is the next lucky hostage to get the treatment before the POTW. This garners House’s disgust as he accuses her of waving the white flag at life because of her Huntington’s. She doubles over in pain, leaving House to muse “I would have laid money that you had herpes.”
House prepares the next dose for the POTW and theorizes that he was defined by his work but all his illness made him sloppy and got him fired. The POTW asserts that he just wants to know what’s wrong with him. Well, we know it’s not the herpes diagnosis, because he falls to the floor in pain when he gets the shot. Not long after, the POTW’s heart begins racing and 13 suggests they get the paddles. House points out the the muscle contraction the electricity causes will fire the gun, so they wisely opt for a chemical intervention instead. Again, the POTW insists that 13 take it first, regardless of the fact that her heart is not racing. She collapses as her heart rate drops and he agrees to take the shot, bringing his back to normal.
With no signs of tachycardia and sweat coming out of only one side of his face, House moves to a new diagnosis: cancer. Wilson takes the consult call, but the POTW wants more proof. A handful more hostages released and with the remaining 5 tied around him for body shielding, they make their way to radiology. House again tries to psychoanalyze the POTW and finally gets the answer we all knew was there - the POTW can’t handle not having an answer. Just like House.
In a plot point I am confident we could all see a mile away, the POTW must relinquish his gun to get results from the CT scan, since the metal in his hand is interfering with the machine. As the gun is handed over, 2 hostages run out leaving just 13, House and a teenage boy who wants to see how it will all end. Of course, the test shows no cancerous tumor and as the POTW sits devastated with the knowledge that it’s all over, House hands him back the gun and gets back to work on his differential. The entire moment is well acted, but so glaringly obvious that I can’t help but feel disappointed. Outside, the SWAT leader tells Cuddy that he hopes her boyfriend knows what he’s doing, and I barely kept myself from rolling my eyes.
The team gets back on the line, but Foreman announces he agrees with Chase and leaves. A new theory is produced with a new drug needing to be administered. The SWAT leader negotiates the teen’s freedom and tells the POTW that they can’t test anymore drugs on 13, who’s barely able to remain upright at this point. When the drug arrives, the POTW changes the game and demands 13 take it first. Given that it is designed to affect her breathing, House reveals she has Huntington’s and tells the POTW he’s killing her. We can hardly expect the POTW to care, and he doesn’t. 13 takes the drugs and soon after goes into kidney failure. The POTW takes it, to no effect.
The team and House try to figure out what’s protecting the POTW’s kidneys, which somehow works out to House needing to slap the POTW for diagnostic purposes. The new theory that arises from the smack is ameliodosis. With the final drug on delivery, the POTW is down to one more trade. He opts to give up House, since he wants to give 13 the meds first. House assures him the medication will kill 13, but the POTW doesn’t care, he wants his answer. This would have been a great moment to have House stare his own obsession in the face, but nothing of the like happens, alas. 13 points out that she’s dead either way and House simply leaves.
13, now alone with the POTW and the syringe of her doom, suddenly grows a will to live. She cries and admits she doesn’t want to die but the POTW argues that she just doesn’t want to do it herself, she wants it out of her control and now it is, since he has a gun. She continues to cry and Olivia does a very moving portrayal of a person begging for her life. I just found it hard to connect the moment with the nasty, self-centered, destructive 13 we’ve seen all season. But, the POTW is moved and grabs the syringe from her, plunging it into his own arm, as the SWAT team’s charges finally go off and blow a hole in the wall. They rush in to subdue the POTW and House rushes in to get to 13, asking how she’s still alive. She tells him “he didn’t make me take it”. Which is one way of putting it, but for someone who was sobbing a moment earlier and was just caught in a bomb blast, she’s remarkably calm all of the sudden.
The show ends with 13 going on dialysis and asking Foreman to be included in the drug study for Huntington’s. Meanwhile, House shows up in Cuddy’s office as she surveys the damage and announces his diagnosis was confirmed. They have a brief confrontation about how House handled the POTW and how she handled the situation because of House’s involvement and how it proves they can’t have a ‘thing’. House points out that if she’s blaming the outcome on their non-relationship, the only answer is to do the opposite. She asks him, in awe, if he wants a relationship now and he denies it, heading for the door. She sits at her desk and opens the drawer, only to have it spill it’s contents on her feet, since House had put it in upside down.
Tonight’s funny:
POTW: I’m looking for Dr. Cuddy…
House: Either she’s not here or she’s under the desk. Either way, leave me alone until I’m finished.
POTW: Dr. Cuddy brings in the drugs. Alone.
House: She might be armed. I’d have her deliver it shirtless.
Cameron: Ameliadosis? It fits all the symptoms.
House: It would if he had ever been in a tropical region.
Cameron: Costa Rica? Panama? He’s never been…
POTW: I’ve never been anywhere south of Florida!
House: … YOU IDIOT!
POTW: Florida counts?
“That you may be the children of your Father which is in heaven; for he makes his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and unjust.” — Matthew 5:45
Twice during FX’s broadcast of the The Shield’s 90-minute finale here in Los Angeles, the emergency broadcast system broke in to warn of flash flooding. From Santa Barbara to Yorba Linda, heavy rains are falling on scorched earth, threatening deadly floods and mudslides to the rich and the not-so-rich alike, to the honest and the cheaters, the young and the old, the righteous and the heinous.
Life is not fair.
But, the measure of justice is not about how long one lives or how much stuff one accumulates. Instead, it’s weighed out in friendships made, families created, love shared, help given, wisdom passed on.
Whether or not you believe any of the above is true will likely affect how you feel about the final scene of The Shield. After seven seasons, born in murder and raised in corruption, does rogue LAPD Detective Vic Mackey get what he deserves?
I’m getting ahead of myself. Family Meeting begins…
As the episode opens, Vic is negotiating with drug-cartel boss Beltran, his ace in the hole in his deal for immunity from Olivia Murray and Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) — a deal which conspicuously does not include his last remaining Strike Team member, Ronnie Gardocki, who is blissfully unaware of his own impending doom.
Meanwhile, Dutch tries to convince Corinne that her husband going scot-free won’t wind up with her and her kids facedown in a ditch somewhere, but she’s not buying it.
Back on the run with Shane and pregnant Mara and little Jackson, the Vendrells finally come home, at the end of their wits, their resources and, with Mara’s injury and her shooting of an innocent woman, their will and ability to keep running. Mara frets that her son will wind up in foster care — which might as well be “death by hanging,” the way she says it — and that her daughter will be ripped from her after birth in a prison hospital.
Together, Shane and Mara decide to name the unborn child Frances Abigail, or Franny Abby for short. Father-of-the-year Vic Mackey swings by Corinne’s to give her the good news that she’s off the hook for her fake arrest, and she gets an Academy Award pretending she’s relieved and OK with having him in her house.
Here, let me pause for a theory. I’ve come to think Vic is a sociopath, incapable of true emotion. His extravagant devotion to his wife and children is a way he convinces himself he’s still human. As long as he’s doing his “heinous sh-t,” as Dutch puts it, for them, it’s excusable. Of course, life won’t be worth living if he doesn’t have them. More on this later.
Shane confronts slacker Steve and offers him surrender terms to pass to Claudette — Mara stays out of jail, and he’ll come in.
Vic leads ICE in a raid and comes up snake eyes. Things aren’t looking so good for that immunity right now.
Back at the Vendrells’, Mara needs Shane’s help to get out of bed and go to the bathroom. Anyone who’s ever had a major injury or surgery knows what a nightmare it can be to perform the simplest necessary bodily functions. The scene plays out with honesty, pathos and tenderness. It’s sweet and sad and foreboding all at the same time.
Out in a patrol car, uniformed officer Tina muses if she’ll get a cake for being one year out of the Police Academy, while partner Julien flicks on the mental wayback machine upon seeing some hot young men. Ah, the graveyard of abandoned plot twists…
In the middle of this reverie comes a call, and the two are confronted with loud and proud mayoral candidate Robert Huggins (Andre Benjamin from OutKast), who’s whipping up support on the street for his New Paradigm Party, which promises radical change. He’s a young African-American, and his buttons are round with a round design. Mark this moment — it’s about as close as The Shield has ever come to commenting on the real world. The parallels thankfully grow less obvious as we go along.
Shane, having found Los Angeles’ last working pay phone — and it looks it — gets bad news from Steve. He rings up Vic and tries to bully him into helping, but Vic’s all immunity-wunity, boo-hoo for you. Shane rears back and throws a haymaker, telling Vic that Corinne’s working behind his back to bring him down, while he, Shane, still has his family on his side.
Vic hits back where it hurts, threatening to pay visits to Shane’s family while he’s in jail, tell them bedtime stories about the good old Strike Team days. Shane, who worships the innocence of his wife and children, goes into a blind panic.
Back at the Barn, the subplot about Ted Bundy Jr. — a k a Lloyd — and his mysteriously dead mother starts looking like a frame-up for Dutch, whom Claudette yanks off the case. His fate now rests in Steve’s hands. Looks like the dam just burst all over our Dutch Boy.
On the bright side, Steve’s lawyer — who looks suspiciously like Julia Campbell, the real-life wife of Jay Karnes, who plays Dutch — drops by to chat with Dutch. When he stalks away, she gives him The Look…you know the one.
Shane, now calm and even a bit cheerful, enters a convenience store to buy a pad, pens and a toy police car, then drops a wad of cash on the luckiest Asian-American teen girl to ever sit behind a bulletproof glass panel.
Vic, the same as ever, bulldogs forward with his plan to take down Beltran and make Olivia happy. In another part of town, Huggins makes life tough for campaigning Aceveda, who is plainly irritated at having to go through all these boring electoral formalities. It all ends with a slavery reference and some very nice singing.
Shane comes home and calls a family meeting, unaware that a neighbor has ratted him out to Claudette, who has just been doing her best and silkiest mindfrack on young Lloyd.
Mackey makes the nice with Aceveda, who’s willing to play. I always thought these boys protested too much.
Arriving at Shane’s house, Claudette and the team decide to go in quiet. Inside, where it’s already awfully quiet, Shane is writing a note. The cops come in. Turns out Shane’s sitting on the toilet. The cops fan out. There’s a bang, and Danny looks into the bathroom to see Shane slumped against blood spatter on the wall.
Claudette is taking this in when she’s called into the bedroom. Lying on the bed are Mara, holding yellow flowers on her belly, and Jackson, one leg slightly bent, wearing white socks and holding the toy police car on his belly.
I’d like to say I was surprised when I saw this scene at a screening of this episode, but I wasn’t. Shane signaled his suicidal intent at the convenience store by giving away money. He also fits the profile for a “family annihilator,” a white male in his 30s or 40s who has lost control over his fate and sees no way out.
But instead of taking out his rage on his family, as many annihilators do, Shane’s motivation is love, but also a good dose of narcissism (the same word Claudette will eventually throw at Lloyd). Shane is his family; his family is Shane. Preserving his vision of their innocence — even at the cost of their lives — is both his penance and his redemption.
Of course, Mara, Jackson and little unborn Frances Abigail have to make the ultimate sacrifice for this to happen, but that’s beside the point.
Anyway, Ronnie and Vic head in to take out Beltran and his boys. Olivia shows up and is immediately all, “So where’s the drugs, big boy?” But, hey, there they are. Vic wins the immunity lottery.
Back at the barn, lawyer lady drops the date-me hammer on Dutch, who’s too dense to realize he’s been hit. Thankfully, Danny is there to clue him in.
Aceveda, true to form, throws on his Superman cape and explains to credulous member of the press how he managed to run a mayoral campaign and work undercover to bring down a drug cartel, all at the same time. All hail Super Aceveda! He don’t need no stinkin’ election..
After metaphorically slapping Lloyd around a bit more, ailing and pained Claudette falls, metaphorically, into the arms of Dutch, who mother-hens all over her, until she drops the “dying” word on him. But it’s OK, the lupus won’t get her today, and Dutch just has to go on being her good friend.
While his romantic skills are nonexistent, that, the Dutch Boy can do.
Things are not so indefinite for Huggins, who is gunned down. In the ambulance, he loses his life, but first he gets Tina’s vote.
Summoned back to the Barn, Vic sees Ronnie sobbing, partly in grief over Shane and his family but, I think, mostly in relief that the last one who knew of their crimes is now gone. Good one, Ronnie. As long as you come out of this smelling like a rose, it’s all just ducky. You’re dead to me.
Vic meets Claudette in interrogation, where she crisply orders him into the perp’s chair. She then reads him Shane’s last words, which are:
“I guess enough painkillers can make even the worst kind of hurt go away. The thing you need to know is that Mara was innocent, and Jackson was innocent. They didn’t know what they were drinking, and their last moments together were happy ones. They left the way I first found them, perfect and innocent. They were innocent; they’re in heaven now; and we’ll always be a family.
“The guilty ones are me and Vic. Vic led, but I kept Following. I don’t think one’s worse than the other, but we made each other into something worse than our individual selves. I wish I’d never met him. I can see it all now, there’s no apologies I can make, no explanations I can give.
“I was who I was, and I can’t be that person anymore. I can’t let myself…”
Oh, yeah, and she also brought pictures.
“You must be very proud of yourself,” Claudette says, cool as an executioner. “This is what the hero left on his way out the door.”
Vic takes a look then takes out his anger on the camera. At least he didn’t punch the wall. That’s so bad-action-movie.
He tells her to bill him for it, and his first payment is to see Ronnie arrested and dragged off, howling in rage. Eat it, Ronnie. You’re no Boy Scout.
Vic shows up for work at ICE, and Olivia informs him he’s going to spend his days at a bland cubicle, writing 10-page, single-spaced memos on gang-crime patterns, all while pissing into a cup once a week. Oh, and lose the leather jacket, bucky, this is a suit-and-tie kind of place.
Vic’s every kind of pissed, but Olivia’s like, oh, well, you’re my rented mule now.
Aceveda drops by to see Claudette, who congratulates him on winning the election that hasn’t happened yet. He waves her off with false humility. I’m sure he’ll do just ducky.
Back at the ICE offices, Vic, wearing possibly the worst-fitting gray suit the wardrobe department could find, gets the HR briefing. Most important — don’t mess with the thermostat.
Somewhere in America, a Handsome Marshal — no kidding, that’s what the credits said — played by director (and former Homicide: Life on the Street star) Clark Johnson, shows Corinne and the Viclets their new small-town home, proudly proclaiming that a local museum has “the largest and finest juvenile T-Rex” around.
Corinne’s cool with the house, the new life and the T-Rex.
Dutch takes one last swing at Lloyd, asking him what serial-killer nickname he wants, telling him about public-works employee Mack Ray Edwards, who murdered children and buried them under the Los Angeles freeways (totally real, BTW). Then he muses that 50 percent of known serial killers have spent at least part of their lives in Southern California.
He asks Lloyd why, and Lloyd says it’s because folks come to L.A to get famous.
Nah, it’s the weather. Nothing’s worse than burying your victims in snow or rain. It just sucks all the fun out of it.
Down in the Barn’s kitchen, Tina’s gotten her cake, but a call comes in before it can be sliced, and off go the real cops.
At ICE, under humming fluorescent lights, Vic puts out pictures of his progeny and a two-shot of himself and the unfortunately fragged Lemansky. A police siren wails outside, and the old firehorse sprints to the window, looking like a Dickensian orphan peering at a bakery display full of sugary goodness.
Poor Vic, stuck behind a desk. He sits, ponders, ponders some more, starts to get a bit misty — then the lights go out (but at least that stops the infernal humming). But, wait, Vic’s got a gun in the lockbox. He pulls it out, smiles at it, tucks it in his belt, tosses on his ill-fitting suit coat and prepares to head out and do …what?
Who knows? But I have another theory.
Look at it this way, now unencumbered by family, friends or having to maintain a facade of upholding the law, Vic is finally free to be the soulless shark that he is. If you doubt me, watch last week’s episode again, as he confesses his many, many crimes to Olivia. Gosh, he’s been waiting for years to tell somebody about all the cool stuff he’s done. He enjoyed it. Oh, yes, he surely did.
Sadly, I think Vic will be just fine. Oh, he’s likely to get himself or a lot of other people killed, but he’s going to have plenty of fun first.
And the rain falls down…
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Season: 1
Episode: 11
First Aired: 11/29/2008
When Arthur kills a unicorn, he brings a curse upon Camelot. With the mythic city plagued by both famine and drought, time is short for the curse to be lifted. The mysterious Anhora, keeper of the unicorns, tells Arthur he is responsible for bringing the famine to Camelot- and to lift the curse, Arthur will be tested… but unless he makes amends for the killing of the unicorn, Camelot will be doomed.
Writers:
Howard Overman
Stars:
Colin Morgan (Merlin)
Bradley James (II) (Prince Arthur)
Katie McGrath (Morgana)
Angel Coulby (Gwen (Guinevere))
Anthony Stewart Head (King Uther Pendragon)
Richard Wilson (Gaius)
Season: 1
Episode: 6
First Aired: 11/29/2008
Prod Code: 103
Writers:
Mike Sussman
Director: Charlie Haskell
Stars:
Bruce Spence (Zeddicus Zu’l Zorander)
Craig Horner (Richard Cypher)
Bridget Regan (Kahlan Amnell)
Season: 13
Episode: 10
First Aired: 11/30/2008
In the race’s tenth leg, the teams continue their journey through Moscow, Russia, hoping to secure a spot in the final three. Andrew and Dan struggle to remain in the race when faced with a Speed Bump requiring rhythm. All teams struggle with difficulties involving public transportation. One team suffers a major blow to their chances when they lose their passports and all their money. This, or another mistake, leads to one team being unable to join the others at the race’s finish line.
Stars:
Phil Keoghan (Host)
Ken Greene (Himself)
Tina Greene (Herself)
Andrew Lappitt (Himself)
Dan Honig (Himself)
Toni Imbimbo (Herself)
Dallas Imbimbo (Himself)
Nick Spangler (Himself)
Starr Spangler (Herself)
Season: 20
Episode: 7
First Aired: 11/30/2008
Prod Code: KABF20
Homer suspects Bart’s new friend, Bashir, of involvement with a terrorist plot to destroy the Springfield Mall.
Stars:
Dan Castellaneta (Homer Simpson, Grampa Simpson, Barney Gumble, Krusty the Clown, Groundskeeper Willie, and others)
Hank Azaria (Apu Nahasapeemapetilon, Moe Szyslak, Chief Wiggum, Comic Book Guy, Lou, and others)
Nancy Cartwright (Bart Simpson, Nelson Muntz, Ralph Wiggum, Todd Flanders, and others)
Julie Kavner (Marge Simpson, Patty Bouvier, and Selma Bouvier)
Harry Shearer (Mr. Burns, Ned Flanders, Principal Skinner, Waylon Smithers, Kent Brockman, and others)
Yeardley Smith (Lisa Simpson)
