Review:

"Six Months Ago" picks up where "Seven Minutes To Midnight" left off, with Hiro teleporting himself into the past and resolving to save Charlie. The show presumably figured, hey, if it's going to have Hiro at the diner six months ago, it might as well look at all the characters six months ago.

So it does. In the form of one giant flashback, chronicling events for the main characters at a time when their story threads were in their early stages.

Does it work? For the most part, yes. The pace is phenomenal, the dialogue is good, and the performances are stellar. Beyond those merits, the episode manages to create an enormous backstory for Sylar, Niki and Eden, as well as elaborating on what we already knew about Nathan, Heidi and Papa Suresh.

If the episode has a weakness, it's in the execution of its aim to explore the history and complexity of the characters. On the surface, "Six Months Ago" achieves that exceptionally. Beneath the surface, problems start to appear. I don't mean the plotholes and inconsistencies in the episode, which were more rampant this week than in all of the previous nine episodes put together. I will, of course, get to each of them, but it's not my main concern.

My problem with this episode is the fact that it's one-sided. It concentrates on the characters who have dominated the show for the entirety of its run so far, relegating the least developed characters to the background once again. Meaning Hiro, Claire, Peter and Nathan occupy the bulk of the 40 minutes, with Niki and Matt making the most of a smattering of scenes.

D.L. and Micah? They get to be supporting players in Niki's already brief portion of the episode.

Mohinder? He makes an appearance in a clip from a previous episode.

Isaac and Simone? They're not here at all.

I don't want to find flaw in this episode, because in a lot of ways it really, REALLY rocked. But the sad fact is that it exemplifies the way this show is failing to find a balance between its characters. Here, we see the characters who needed the most attention once again shunted into the background while the more popular characters take the center stage.

In a way, I'm not complaining, because it's a delight to see Hiro and Charlie together, and it's amazing to watch the Petrelli saga unfold and Claire discover her abilities. I only wish that other characters who deserve the same vivid backstory could have gotten it too. If Eden could get it, Isaac and Simone could too.

With that out of the way, on to the scene-by-scene. And boy, this was a densely packed scene-by-scene.

Seriously. It looks like some major editing had to be done for this one. They couldn't even give Voice-over Mohinder his usual opening spot: the poor guy shares his monologue with the recap. Meaning Recap Guy has probably been canned after calling Daddy Bennet "the face of evil" one too many times and describing morally questionable characters as "extraordinary heroes."

So Voice-over Mohinder's now taking the recap gig. He doesn't seem terribly interested in doing any recapping. Actually, his voice-overs get even more cryptic. This one starts out with a reference to Ecclesiastes, "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose." This leads on to him talking about how the Earth spins so fast we're about to be thrown off, about migration, about a chain of events being set into motion, about an impending danger and whether we would have done anything differently if we'd known about it.

I'm all for profundity and ambiguous metaphor, but really. There comes a point where these voice-overs cease to intrigue and instead just baffle. I'm beginning to wonder if they actually need some kind of decoding. Like, if Tim Kring scrambled the word order and now expects someone to rearrange them into the correct order so that they make sense.

There's a part of the voice-over which makes a little sense: Voice-over Mohinder asks whether the die was cast long ago, and whether we would go back to change its course if we could. Which sort of relates to Hiro saving Charlie and Sylar becoming a killer, although how it ties in with Matt eating donuts and Claire bickering with Jackie is beyond me.

We return to the Burnt Toast Diner, finding Hiro at a table six months earlier and finding Charlie before she lost her scalp.

Hiro doesn't waste any time, telling her right away that he's here to save her life. Charlie gives Hiro this look that says, "OK, that's crazy! But you're cute, so come on over and enjoy my birthday with me." I know it's all in the script, but Jayma Mays makes this character so charming. Even when a stranger shows up and starts spouting stuff like that, she's all, "Well, sure, honey, but come and share the cake with me in the meantime."

Meanwhile, in Brooklyn, and also six months earlier, a watchmaker named Gabriel Gray gets a visit from Papa Suresh. The scene as such plays out well, as an introduction to Gabriel and to the way Papa Suresh was approaching the individuals on his list of names. Gabriel's ability consists of an awareness of "the way things work" and "how parts should go." Which sounds lame on paper, but turns out to be rather cool when it's delivered by Zachary Quinto and accompanied by lots of ticking watches.

Gabriel fixes Papa Suresh's watch. After Gabriel refuses to accept payment for adjusting the watch by two seconds, Papa Suresh tells Gabriel about his crackpot evolution theory and lumbers him with a copy of "Activating Evolution". He tells Gabriel to read it and get back to him. Gabriel gets this look that's like, "Dude, I'm kinda busy with my watches here, and this book looks like it's gonna take me about a year to get through," but he's still intrigued as Papa Suresh walks out.

The part of this which seems hokey is the way Papa Suresh seems to be visiting the individuals he identified (and, not to get sidetracked here, but HOW he identified them in the first place still hasn't been explained by the end of the episode). Papa Suresh's approach seems to consist of handing out copies of his book, dropping a bomb on each individual by effectively telling them they're abnormal, then walking away and letting them decide to either dismiss him as a lunatic or embrace his unconventional theories and explore their power.

Gabriel decides to embrace the unconventional theories and explore his power. Papa Suresh then changes his mind and decides that perhaps Gabriel isn't so special. Between the opening voice-over and this show's ongoing preoccupation with fate, I guess we're supposed to assume that Gabriel was going to turn into a killer one way or another. The problem is, I just don't see it in this opening scene. I see a guy doing his best to get by with his father's business, whether he's happy with the life he's living or not.

Papa Suresh shows up at Gabriel's store and invites him to explore his unknown ability, then kicks the poor guy off the project when it turns out he might not have an ability. He doesn't even let Gabriel stick around to help with research. He effectively tells Gabriel to go back to his old life.

Which doesn't make Papa Suresh directly responsible for Sylar becoming a killer, but I think the way he raised Gabriel's hopes of being different and then brought them crashing down is a crucial part to the creation of the show's central villain.

Long story short: this scene strongly implies that Papa Suresh started Sylar on his killing spree.

Also six months earlier ... Matt pulls over a black Ferrari on the streets of L.A. and asks the nice lady to step out of the vehicle. Said nice lady turns out to be Eden in her badass car-stealing days, when she was drink-driving and wearing sunglasses at night. Both of which are just NOT cool.

That said, working the coercion whammy on Matt to go eat a dozen donuts is funny, if only because it falls back on a cliche so overdone that evidence of it on this show can only mean self-parody. Which, you know, IS kind of cool when it's done right.

Eden encounters the Haitian. He doesn't think any of this is cool.

The entertaining part of this story thread is that Eden's basically doing what a lot of us would do with the same power: using it to have fun. It's a contrast with the character we later meet outside Papa Suresh's apartment, but also to the 'real' Eden who opposed Daddy Bennet for instructing her to make Isaac paint. Here, we're shown a time when Eden used her power for fun. It's surprising, but it also underlines how events in this episode changed or reformed several of the characters on the show.

Elsewhere, six months earlier ... Claire sits at home reading the instruction manual to a new video camera, blissfully unaware that it will one day contain the many memorable instances of her Jackass Mutilation.

Jackie's line about Laurie Trammell was a subtle nod to continuity, tying in neatly with the character Claire spoke to in "Collision". The fact that Brody later said he was telling everyone that she was a "slut" follows on from Jackie's rumor here that Laurie "skanked" the football team.

So, nice continuity. It's also good to see an early indication of Claire's sympathetic side when she challenges Jackie for victimizing Laurie.

Grotesque comedy ensues. Jackie insists on Claire trying on her cheerleader uniform to "commiserate the event," and Claire's like, "Uh, you mean commemorate the event, moron!" and Jackie's all, "Yeah, whatever, put the uniform on!" and Claire's all, "Make me, b***h! I'm not drooling for it!"

Claire gets what's apparently her first undocumented footage for the Jackass Mutilation tape. Sandra holds Claire's bleeding hand over the table and tries to stop the blood from dripping everywhere. Is Mr. Muggles around at this point in the timeline? Because you figure he'll lap it all up and save a fortune on bandages.

Sandra and Jackie take Claire to the Emergency Room. Daddy Bennet gets a call from Papa Suresh. The part we hear involves Papa Suresh telling Daddy Bennet that he wants to talk about Claire. The unclear part is whether Daddy Bennet knew already now what Claire's ability was. It's likely, but because of that gap in the plot, you have to wonder how the rest of this conversation would have gone.

"Mr. Bennet? I realize this might be a shock, but I think your daughter's the product of genetic mutation."

"How's that now?"

"I think she may have a special ability of some kind. I'm not sure what, exactly, but it's connected to my research about genetic evolution."

"Oh."

"I know how crazy it must sound, Mr. Bennet, but -"

"Actually, it's not that crazy. I've been working for a covert organization studying the same thing for the past fourteen years. Claire is the daughter of a test subject, so I've been expecting her to develop an ability at some point."

"Really?"

"No. Just kidding. Anyway, how can I help your research?"

"Well, Mr. Bennet, I was hoping you'd visit me in New York. I'll show you my research and we can decide whether to run lots of tests on your daughter to determine whether she's special."

"Uh, I know she's special."

"Well, yes, Mr. Bennet, but she might be really special."

"My daughter IS really special."

"But she might be really, really, REALLY special."

"Mr. Suresh, I can say with absolute certainty that she's really, really, REA-"

"Oh, look, Mr. Bennet, will you just get on a plane and get over here? I've got other freaks to contact."

Meanwhile, in Midland, Texas, Hiro discovers that he's traveled back in time further than intended, from October to April. He proceeds to talk to himself in Japanese while staring out the window and wondering how much further back he might go. One line about becoming "lunch for a T-Rex" seems particularly apt. Not because it's a hilarious image, but because on this show, with this level of creativity, you can believe the show will do it.

Meanwhile, six months ago in Las Vegas, Niki attends Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. There's no sign of a dual personality, Niki hasn't borrowed money from Linderman, and D.L. isn't on the run from the cops.

That said, this scene establishes how miserable Niki's life was even before events portrayed on the show: working 60 hours a week, raising a son who's flunking school, watching her ex-con husband struggle to find work. Niki's telling her group that it makes her thirsty, but stops when she sees a familiar gray-haired guy at the back of the room. This guy turns out to be her father, the absent father who's now trying to repair past mistakes by becoming a part of her life in the hope that it'll make him feel better about himself.

Also six months ago, in Manhattan, Peter finishes medical school and decides to become a hospice nurse. This leads to a party in the kind of apartment that Charles Deveaux would have been happy living in. Nathan, Heidi and Mommy Petrelli show up. Daddy Petrelli remains to be seen. The scene sets up the family's involvement with Linderman, Peter's strained relationship with his father, and above all the caustic but good-natured relationship between Peter and Nathan.

That said, this scene also seems to be at pains to reaffirm that Peter is amazingly sensitive, and that Nathan is, as always, a %*@#.

Nathan shows up at the door to the apartment with Heidi and Mommy Petrelli in tow. He presents Peter with women's nursing shoes. Peter laughs it off, but the gesture is effectively intended to imply that Nathan thinks Peter's career choice is a joke.

There's the first of several Brotherly Bonding moments when Peter gently slaps Nathan's cheek.

Peter and Nathan sit in his bedroom, occasionally accompanied by Heidi, and Peter works his intuitive charm by asking Nathan what's going on. Nathan reveals that the district attorney wants him to handle the case which could bring down Linderman; and, by extension, Daddy Petrelli.

Now here's where it gets interesting: Nathan seems to be leaning towards prosecuting Linderman, even if it means implicating their father. He reiterates Peter's own words: "he was a criminal for protecting criminals." Peter suddenly doesn't think it warrants going after Daddy Petrelli, and tells Nathan that Daddy Petrelli is their father, and that if Nathan goes ahead with this prosecution he'll never forgive himself.

So, we've got Nathan advocating the legally correct course of action and prosecuting a mobster regardless of the family ties. Then we've got Peter urging Nathan to pass up the chance to bring down Linderman because it would inevitably bring down their father.

That's more or less consistent with the characters we'll be introduced to in the premiere: Nathan's the cold-hearted, objective one who'll exploit his family to help his career, and Peter's the caring brother and son who puts his family before everything. Although flight will become rather important to Peter too.

Brotherly Bonding Moment #2: Nathan wraps an arm around Peter's neck and kisses his head. These two guys might altercate, but they also communicate. Physically.

Gabriel visits Papa Suresh and asks if he's going to be cut open. Papa Suresh assures him he won't. This leads to a rather ominous admission from Gabriel of his fantasy that his parents weren't really his parents, of his aversion to a "futile" existence as a watchmaker, of his dream of being "important".

It's an effective scene on two levels: it's in many ways a parallel to Hiro and a sharp contrast to Claire, because Gabriel is the guy who desperately wants an ability to take him out of his normal life and give him a sense of purpose. On the other hand, the prospect of a child discarding his parents as "insignificant" begins to build a more sinister impression. Coupled with the Biblical connotations of his name, Gabriel starts to take the shape of a fallen angel.

Daddy Bennet reels off Eden's criminal record and tells her it's "no way for a young lady to behave." Eden has tape across her mouth, so can't tell him to knock the fatherly crap off. Also, he misses out the part about sunglasses at night. Which is just ... unforgivable. And Eden wants to protest that driving a Ferrari through L.A. is so the way for a young lady to behave.

Eden tries to work her whammy on Daddy Bennet as soon as the tape comes off, but the Haitian provides the same dampener effect we saw in "Collision". Is this guy going to get a backstory? You have to wonder whether Daddy Bennet relied on him to restrain every individual he brought in over fourteen years, or whether he too only showed up six months ago.

Hiro gets on the phone to his six-months-younger self in Tokyo. Great-o Scott-o! It's Star Trek reference 5,345,478!

Still funny, though. And good for the character, because the difference between the two Hiros - between the Hiro we met at the start of the show and the Hiro we know now - is brought out distinctly. It's a great moment because it emphasizes how enormously the character has changed over ten episodes.

Now, contrast that with Matt, whose three scenes this week include this gem. Tommy-Rusedski drives up next to Matt's car and asks his partner what's going on: the detective exam is in an hour and he's staring into space with a half-eaten donut in his hand.

Er … ha ha?

Poor Matt. Not even the jokes in his story thread work the way they're supposed to.

Matt snaps out of his daze and asserts that he's about to become "a different man."

But, see, that's the problem with the character, and that's the problem with the way his arc has been written. He hasn't changed. He isn't "a different man." He hasn't progressed or developed in any definable way since being introduced in "Don't Look Back". We've gotten a glimpse of his life (and boy, has that been an endurance test) but we don't get the sense that Matt's life has changed beyond the fact that (1) he now reads minds, and it means he can please his wife and tell that she's cheating on him, and (2) he now uses said telepathy to assist his work with AudreyClea and the FBI.

Beyond that, nothing.

Hiro has changed. Hiro is "a different man" to the one he just spoke to at Yamagato Industries. And putting these two scenes side by side drills home the different level of success between the two character arcs more than ever.

As I've said repeatedly, I don't think it's a case of Matt's arc being inherently limited or uninteresting so much as being under-developed because of minimal screen time and emphasis on the wrong part of the story. The guy should be getting more to work with. He should be exploring his power and saving people rather than waiting for his wife to inadvertently reveal her innermost thoughts. That's what will make him "a different man."

We return to the Burnt Toast Diner, where Hiro has now ostensibly procured a job. It would be easy to tear the notion apart by asking how he managed to without a permit and a place to live, but when he's walking through the diner in a white apron, gathering empty glasses and saying "Hurro!" and "Wazzup!", it's so endearing that I find myself forgiving the implausibility.

As suspected, Hiro gives Charlie the phrase book. You have to wonder how she got the phrase book in the original timeline, the one in which she didn't meet Hiro until he showed up at the diner with Ando, but we're probably not supposed to wonder about that.

Charlie reads from her phrase book, telling Hiro in Japanese that he's "a very kind and generous man." It's so delightful that we overlook the fact that Charlie's Japanese now is, like, a million times faster and more fluent than it is when she reads the symbols on Hiro's jacket six months later.

Hiro starts harping on about the future, undeterred by the fact that Charlie isn't believing it for a moment. He now demonstrates that he's mastered one of his powers: leaving the world frozen in time long enough to run a couple of blocks and buy Charlie flowers, then a little longer to deliver a meal to a table at the diner.

We can conclude that, even though Hiro's useless when it comes to teleporting through time, he's obviously really good at freezing time, and doesn't seem to have a problem with leaving the world frozen for extended periods. He won't be laughing when it turns out that leaving time frozen for so long inflicted brain cancer on the population and eradicated mankind.

Hiro could STILL unwittingly become the villain of the show.

We cut to Niki in a cemetery, staring at a grave which reads, "Jessica Sanders, Beloved Daughter and Sister, 1976-1987." This is one of those scenes which ends up well done, but which could have been ruined by a melodramatic performance, intrusive music or an overlong focus on the grave's inscription. None of those is the case, and Ali Larter again demonstrates why her character, along with Matt and Mohinder, should be getting more attention.

D.L. approaches and sits next to Niki. "Having a drink with your sister?" It's the kind of line which could have been delivered reproachfully, but Leonard Roberts gives it an undertone of sympathy and understanding.

Ironically, that's the problem. It just doesn't fit with continuity. The D.L. portrayed here comes across as the model husband: a supportive, loving, sensitive guy trying his best to look after his family. Given that Niki mentioned to one of the detectives in "Hiros" that the police had been after D.L. for six months, we can assume that the Linderman $2m heist is about to happen, and that D.L. is about to disappear.

The problem is that D.L., as he's being portrayed here, isn't the kind of guy who Niki could possibly suspect of being a killer. But somehow, when we get to six months later, Niki's insisting to detectives and D.L.'s mother that he is.

It could be that something happens between now and the imminent heist to change Niki's mind, but even if there is, it would be an incredibly abrupt change in Niki to suddenly decide that her husband was a murderer. Given the character Roberts is playing here, Niki would logically be insisting that he'd been framed.

Meanwhile, on a deserted highway outside Manhattan, Nathan's driving a convertible with Heidi in the passenger seat. Nathan's laughing at Peter's decision to become a hospice carer, and Heidi's defending Peter because it's such a "perfect fit," what with him being "selfless and empathic" and all. Nathan counters this by calling his brother "self-centered and righteous ... he's SELF-RIGHTEOUS!"

Heidi tells Nathan that Peter's "a helluva lot nicer than you." The Anti-Nathan Campaign gains support. Nathan is the bully put into his place.

Nathan continues by justifying himself and his father, saying they're both doing what they have to do in order to take care of their family. He has a "responsibility" and an "inherited birthright" to do whatever it takes to take care of his family, just like Daddy Petrelli did. Nathan didn't want to be the favorite, but it was just "the reality" of it. Heidi gets this look that's like, "Did I really marry this guy? Aiiieee, maybe I picked the wrong Petrelli."

But here's what it boils down to: Peter's again portrayed as the intuitive and thoughtful one overshadowed by his older, meaner brother. Nathan's again portrayed (through his own words, admittedly) as the overconfident and egotistical one saddled with the task of upholding the family name.

And yet here's the irony: this comes just a few scenes after a conversation in which Peter was advocating protecting their father by covering up his connections to the mob, and in which Nathan was denouncing his father's choices and trying to find it in himself to expose him.

Meaning Nathan was the self-righteous, morally upstanding one struggling to do what was necessary, and Peter was the one trying to protect the family by implying that his brother should conceal the family's connection to Linderman.

It's either woefully inconsistent, or just plain ambiguous.

The car gets rammed by a truck, and Nathan ends up floating helplessly above his car while it crashes into the barrier at a fork in the road. There's sign for New Dock St.

Now, here's where the story works as tragically as it's supposed to if you're watching it on a surface level. If you're an unfeeling b*****d who's watching it with an eye for detail (as many of us are, including myself) then inconsistencies start to appear.

Peter wakes up in his apartment with a jolt. The phone is ringing. As established in "Genesis", he knew his brother had been in an accident.

The problem is that Peter said back in "Genesis" that Nathan had been 300 miles away from him. Which, based on the sign for New Dock St., we can safely say is garbage.

Peter hurries to the ER ward and learns that Heidi has been in surgery for ten hours. It took Peter TEN HOURS to get to the hospital?! I'd believe it if he was 300 miles away, but the show just established that he wasn't. There's also now the additional problem of Peter having originally described this as Nathan's "accident", when in fact it's really Heidi's, and Nathan just happened to get a few cuts and bruises by being involved.

All peripheral details, and they don't detract from what now becomes a very well-written and well-acted scene. If you're not analyzing the show for every detail, none of it will bother you. But it bothers me because, up until now, the show had been meticulous with details. It's disappointing to see it drop the ball like this, because the show usually stands up to that kind of scrutiny and analysis.

Peter finally gets to the ER ward. There's Brotherly Bonding Moment #3.

Peter reveals that he saw the crash take place in his dream, and that he knows about the truck which rammed Nathan and Heidi. Nathan blames himself for considering the prosecution against Linderman, and Peter insists that it's Daddy Petrelli's fault rather than Nathan's.

Brotherly Bonding Moment #4.

Nathan learns that his wife is going to be paralyzed, and Adrian Pasdar brings a stunning sincerity to the scene. The expression which emerges is a mixture of fury, resentment, grief and regret, and somehow, the character we were supposed to find contemptible in the previous scene is the guy you now feel sorry for.

The next day at the Burnt Toast Diner, Hiro shows up with a Japanese newspaper affirming that, as Hiro predicted, the Tokyo Swallows beat the Chunichi Dragons. How did Hiro get this newspaper? Either there's a newsstand in Midland selling the latest edition of Japanese papers, or Hiro teleported to Japan to get this.

Hiro works his origami magic, folding a thousand cranes and hanging them around the diner. It's romantic, it's heartfelt and it's charming, but it might also have killed off every living organism frozen in time while Hiro pulled it off.

In addition to folding a thousand cranes while time was frozen, it also turns out that Hiro slipped away to buy two plane tickets to Japan. At this point, you wonder whether even micro-organisms have survived the catastrophic effects of being suspended in time for so long.

Back in New York, Papa Suresh hooks Gabriel up to a monitor, asks him why he became a watchmaker, and decides without any compunction that perhaps Gabriel isn't so "special". Gabriel doesn't take kindly to the news that he's being passed over so that Papa Suresh can move on to "other opportunities," and throws a few folders across the room before he storms out of the apartment.

Some of you say you knew this guy would be Sylar from the first scene he appeared. Honestly, I wasn't sure. This was the point when it first became obvious to me, because this was Gabriel's "Anakin" moment. Meaning this is when Gabriel becomes resentful about being underestimated and not getting a chance to prove himself. This is when he becomes bitter about the lack of faith in him and the fact that no one sees his power. Between the glasses, the hair and the well-defined jaw, the guy's a spitting image of Brandon Routh's Clark Kent. But really, it's Anakin he's playing.

Grandpa Sanders gives Micah a laptop, promptly becoming the affluent relative who's trying to ingratiate himself with the relatives by supplying expensive gifts. Which makes him into the kind of reprehensible character we're supposed to condemn for trying to win love with money. But if you think about it, it's exactly what Niki wanted.

Micah's thrilled at the gift. Grandpa Sanders tells him the laptop is "amortized over ten birthdays." Micah's all, "Huh? Is that a word I can use in Scrabble?" and runs off with his new toy.

Niki and Grandpa Sanders exchange AA mantras, and we get the first hint that he didn't just abandon his daughters. This impression solidifies when Grandpa Sanders goes berserk at finding Micah methodically dismantling his laptop and examining the circuit boards.

Interestingly, it's not clear whether this is the same laptop which later needed a new logic board in "Genesis", so we don't know whether Micah ever managed to piece it back together.

Grandpa Sanders flies into a terrible rage, throws a check at Niki and hurries away. Niki can't recall the "terrible" event which drove her father away when she was a child, but Jessica gets her first mirror reflection, and she obviously can.

So Jessica makes her first appearance (in the story's timeline, at least), throttling her dad and convincing him to never return again. As with all of the Jessica scenes, Ali Larter acts the scene out with a lot of flair. The disappointing part is that, in an episode which in many ways serves as the "origin" story for the characters, it still isn't clear how Jessica first took control of Niki. We still don't know whether it's a form of spirit possession or a dual personality, and we still don't know whether Jessica has super-strength which is now transferred to Niki, or whether Niki's super-strength emerges when Jessica takes control of her.

Meanwhile, back in New York, Daddy Bennet visits Papa Suresh. He gathers all the information he can, all the time feigning ignorance and acting as if the notion of people with special abilities is the most astounding scientific breakthrough he's ever heard.

Daddy Bennet instantly traverses 1600 miles and finds himself back in Odessa, where Claire is practising a cheerleading routine in front of a mirror. She's imagining a march in her head. Or Daddy Bennet is. Or they both are. I'm not sure. Daddy Bennet hands her a teddy bear and wonders whether she's too old for the bears-from-around-the-world tradition. She protests that she's not and adds it to a formidable collection, telling Daddy Bennet that she loves her bear. More than ever, I want to join Hayden's legion of fans parading a placard with the words "Hayden, let me be your teddy bear!" written on it.

Claire says she worked hard to be a cheerleader, but that Jackie can sometimes be a ... "A bitch?" finishes Daddy Bennet. Claire looks at him, like, "Wow, you really ARE the best dad ever!" As the only dad on the show who gets to call a character's ability "cool" and a high-school girl a "bitch", I'm tempted to agree.

Claire uncovers her bandaged hand and sees that her insta-heal power is working its magic. Daddy Bennet doesn't look too surprised. And Claire realizes it's time to haul out the video camera and begin the Jackass Mutilation tape.

Matt gets his third and final scene, although in many ways this brief scene does more for the character than the previous episodes he's appeared in combined. Here, it's established that Matt pushed Janice away out of self-loathing. When he asks her how she can want to kiss him, we hear his disillusionment. We realize how humiliated he feels for his dyslexia and for the fact that he's been directing traffic for eleven years.

The scene involves what might be Matt's first instance of telepathy, although at this point he isn't even aware that it's a thought rather than a voice. But the scene stands out for the conflicted emotions which Greg Grunberg brings to the scene; as brief as it was, it said a huge amount about Matt's low self-esteem and frustration.

Peter slicks back his hair and prepares to give the deposition that will incriminate his father. Milo looks as dashing as he did at the end of "One Giant Leap", and only mildly less brooding than he did last week in "Homecoming". Nathan arrives at Peter's apartment and tells him that their father had a heart attack. Whether that's the case or whether Linderman was responsible is unclear, although it's likely to be a part of the story which will be covered.

From one tragic scene in an episode filled with them, we move onto another: Charlie's going to die whether Hiro saves her from Sylar or not. She has a blood clot on her brain.

This is where, for me, Jayma Mays cemented her right to be a cast regular on the show. It's not like she hadn't sold her performance already, but her sincerity and depth in this scene were gut-wrenching. When she tells Hiro she was about to give up, and how full of joy he made her, we realize how significant an impact Hiro had on her. When Hiro teleports himself back to the roof of Yamagato and realizes he can't get back, Masi Oka captures all of the despair and exasperation which Hiro felt at not being able to save her.

There were exceptional performances from all of the cast this week, but for me, Oka and Mays delivered the finest, just as they did in "Seven Minutes To Midnight".

Brian Davis visits the watchmaker. The show seems to assume we're too dumb to recall who Brian Davis is, so helpful flashbacks remind us he's one of Papa Suresh's "other opportunities": the dude with telekinetic abilities whose folder Gabriel hurled across the apartment.

Gabriel Gray becomes Sylar. He takes this name from a watch, which I guess is as good a source for an alias as any. Sylar watches with rapt awe as Brian channels his telekinesis and clunkily moves an empty cup along a work surface. Sylar's all, "Wow! Just think, in six months I might be able to do that with actual coffee inside the cup!"

The scene tries to make Brian as innocent and well-intentioned as it can, emphasizing that Brian wants to make his power go away. He's afraid his empty cups might rattle their way too far along a work surface and hurt someone. Sylar grabs a slab of quartz and knocks open Brian's head, gaining his first brain. As with Niki, we see the first instance of a mystery, but the mystery itself, what Sylar actually does with the brains once he gets hold of them, remains unsolved.

Eden joins Daddy Bennet's group, agreeing to work for him and, presumably, not use the Haitian's absence as an opportunity to misbehave by coercing Daddy Bennet into doing all kinds of stuff he'd rather not do. The goal, we learn, is for Eden to wipe Claire's name off Papa Suresh's list of individuals to study. At the same time, it leads very smoothly into Eden moving into Papa Suresh's building and befriending him. It's one of the backstories this week which turns out to have fewer inconsistencies than the others.

So Sylar, previously powerless, returns to Papa Suresh, brandishes the same ability as one of the individuals which Papa Suresh was about to contact, and doesn't raise the slightest suspicion. On the contrary, Papa Suresh is astounded by this unforeseen discovery. Sylar begins to sound more delusional than Papa Suresh ever did, talking about how he can "feel" the other people with abilities out there, that they're going to find them because they "are the future." The psychotic streak emerges. Tragically, Sylar's sharing this scene with the guy who tapped into it and inadvertently fostered it in the first place.

Hiro returns to the Burnt Toast Diner and is reunited with Ando. It turns out that he needed to get back to Texas from Tokyo by plane and bus.

Now, here, sadly, is another gaping plothole, and one that really, really pulled me out of the plot, mostly because it seemed like a flimsy way to justify killing Charlie off.

The waitress last week told Ando that Hiro "popped out of [Charlie's] life weeks ago." Meaning Hiro found himself on the rooftop of Yamagato weeks ago, and not only had two weeks to get back to Texas, but had two weeks in which to contact Charlie by phone and beg her to stay away from work the day Sylar showed up.

Would she have believed him if he told her he'd teleported back to Tokyo? Probably not. Would she have believed him if he told her about Sylar? Probably not. But chances are if they'd fallen in love and spent months together, as it's implied they had, Charlie would have agreed to do what he begged her to. It wouldn't have saved her from the blood clot on the brain, but it might have spared her a scalp slicing and prolonged her life long enough for Hiro to see her again.

Instead, Hiro churns out garbage about how he "failed" because his power was "bigger" than him and because he can't change the past. Fine, he can't change the past. I don't see why he can't, but OK. But see, here, that just doesn't add up to Hiro being unable to contact Charlie and implore her to take one day off work to avoid the sequence of events which led to her death.

The moment with Hiro holding an origami crane is moving, but like the entire Hiro/Charlie relationship, it's a beautiful part of a relationship which is brought to a weakly resolved conclusion.

Admittedly, this might just be me expressing dismay that the character couldn't survive and become a part of the main story.

The episode draws to a conclusion, with Mohinder monologuing about whether the future for these characters is written into their DNA, whether it's in their own hands to change the future and decide what each of them does with their abilities. "Of all our abilities," says Voice-over Mohinder, "it is free will that truly makes us unique. With it, we have a tiny but potent chance to deny fate. And only with it can we find our way back to being human."

We see images from the ending to "Homecoming". Now, with the depth added to each character from this episode, the various story threads look oddly different.

Claire is covered in blood at the homecoming game, about to tell Daddy Bennet her secret. Somehow, after the scene between him and Papa Suresh, Claire's decision to tell her father the truth carries more weight.

Peter gets arrested for saving the cheerleader. Somehow, after we know how much the guy suffered because of losing his father and growing apart from his brother, we sympathize with him more.

Eden waits on the hill and works the whammy on Sylar. Somehow, after we know how Eden was recruited and how Sylar started out as a watchmaker with misguided dreams of being special, we care about the characters more than we did a week earlier.

Hiro stands at the shrine in the diner and tells Ando that he loved Charlie. And after everything that Hiro and Charlie have been through this week, it seems more tragic than ever.

That, I guess, was the intention of this episode: to give us a glimpse of the circumstances leading each of the characters to the present, to help us understand their motives, and to enhance our identification with each of them. In that respect, "Six Weeks Ago" is undoubtedly a success.

I'm docking half a point for the inconsistencies, because let's face it, there was an abundance of them. And I'm docking another half a point for missed opportunities which an exploration of Isaac's and Simone's backstory could have provided.

That doesn’t detract from my gut feeling, though. This was a bold and wildly inventive concept for an episode, and a swift and effective way to provide extensive backstories for each of the characters. Aron Eli Coleite deserves praise for an extremely tight script, and Allan Arkush deserves praise for some tremendous performances from the cast.

One of the strongest episodes so far.

4 out of 5