Review:

Hey, everyone, and welcome back to Heroes!

Also? Welcome back, Heroes! 'Cause those were seven slow and torturous weeks, and as awesome as the graphic novels and 360 Experience have been, it's great to have the show back, and it's great that it's back with such a fast-paced and tightly-scripted episode to set up the closing episodes of the season.

It's not perfect. It has some amazing moments, but there are points to grumble about, and I should say right now that some of them are pretty major; the most obvious being the decision to kill off one of the most underused and underrated cast regulars on the show.

I haven't noticed Simone's departure since "Unexpected." There hasn't been a scene which made me wish she'd stuck around, or a moment when I thought her character would have fitted into the plot. The problem was that, as well as Tawny Cypress played her, Simone's role on the show was as unremarkable as her departure. She never came across as more than a complicated romantic interest.

Isaac, at least to me, was the opposite. The guy's role was central to the plot, but he never got the screen time he deserved. He was repeatedly pushed into the background and relegated to subplots instead of being the focus of the story. And even though he was well written, and at times exceptionally well performed by Santiago Cabrera, I'd say he's even less likely to make another appearance than Simone.

And you know that's coming, people: when the show starts exploring the previous generation of supers, you just know there's going to be a Kid-Simone running around, whining and complaining and throwing attitude at anyone who won't drop everything to give her what she wants.

Isaac almost certainly won't get that opportunity. His lineage was never established. The story behind his art and his 9th Wonders gig was one of those "be-a-nerd-and-freeze-the-frame-with-the-artist-bio-on-the-comic" gems. Which is great for fans who dig deep enough for the details, but it didn't do the character a lot of justice. And beyond one very early graphic novel, the origin of his power was never explored.

All of which make me sad, because although Isaac wasn't the most compelling character on the show, I'd attribute that more to a lack of screen time and a chronic lack of development than to the character himself. And when a character like Simone gets a chance to resurface through the Deveaux backstory, it's frustrating to acknowledge that the chances of a backstory involving Isaac -- a character who remained likable, three-dimensional and consistent throughout the season -- are much less likely.

It's great that this episode rocked. And it did, in all sorts of ways. But there are a couple of serious issues with this week's episode, not least the whole "inevitability" discussion behind a death which has apparently been on the cards since the start of the season.

The opening montage with Isaac's art was a fitting tribute to the character: a neat throw to continuity with the images he'd painted; a creative way to establish Linderman's fixation with collecting Isaac's body of work; and, I can't stress this enough, so preferable an alternative to Mohinder's snore-fest voice-overs that you wish the show had started every episode this way.

At the Primatech Fun Factory, Daddy Bennet sits in his cell. Claire bolts through the door and throws her arms around him. "I'm sooooo sorry!"

I never thought I'd say this: Hayden proves she can act badly. My notes here: "HP. Acting. Wooden. ?!?!?"

It's deliberate, sure. And if you think about it, it's more a reflection of Candice's acting than Hayden's. But heck, it's still a shocker for the legions of fans who never imagined they'd see Hayden put in a bad performance.

You'll also note that Claire leaves the door to the cell wide open. And even though it only takes Daddy Bennet a moment to catch on to the pretense, it never occurs to him to make a run for it. Not that he would have succeeded, but there's a reason for all those fanfics that depict Jack Coleman wearing his rugby shirt and barreling through fifty security guards until he's locked in a loving embrace with his wife and son.

Oh, wait, that's just my fanfic. 'Cause Bennet doesn't seem too concerned with finding out whether Sandra and Lyle are being vivisected while he scoffs cherry pie in Midland. Someone had better resolve that before the season's over.

Claire morphs back into Candice, and Missy Peregrym gives that "Yeah, gotcha! Hate me enough already?" smirk. Thompson shows up to offer a Graham Greene novel and lecture Bennet about following orders. And plus points for everyone involved with this scene, because Eric Roberts scares the heck out of us and totally makes up for the exposition dialogue. And as expo-dialogue goes, this was nowhere near as clunky as it could have been. At this point, I think the show just assumes its viewers know what's going on.

At the Hotel of Antiquity, Linderman shows Nathan his art collection. It apparently covers a period that stretches back to the Renaissance, which sort of makes Isaac a link in a chain, but it's also extremely cool because it confirms what's often been speculated: that there are a bunch of supers out there with the exact same powers as these heroes. The implication here, especially when Linderman later mentions the "artists" (plural) who painted his "road map," is that Linderman's plans involve clairvoyant art that goes back centuries.

Also, can I just say that Malcolm McDowell totally rocked this week. He sells the moral ambiguity so brilliantly that you get why mobsters and dual-personality hitwomen are terrified of him. The "civilized menace" didn't convey that in "Parasite," at least not to me. Here, it's impossible to imagine anyone else playing the role. It's like Gene Roddenberry insisting that Patrick Stewart wasn't Picard; looking back, you wonder how anyone could have doubted it. McDowell absolutely owns this role. His understanding of the people around him, his ability to grasp at their fear and insecurity, his satisfaction at exploiting people's vulnerability: that's why he rose to power. And McDowell conveys that flawlessly this week.

Anyway, Linderman explains that he's "a humanitarian," that he wants to save the planet, and that he needs Nathan's help. Which feels sort of hokey after he ordered a van of thugs to ram Nathan off the road in "Six Months Ago." I guess we're supposed to assume that either Linderman only wanted to scare Nathan into backing off with the D.A. case, or that his plans have changed. The problem is it seems like such a drastic change in agenda that it pulls you out of the scene. It's also what undermines the whole "Linderman-as-misguided-but-well-intentioned" angle, because in the context of sending mobsters to Niki's home and assigning Jessica to shoot Malsky's brains out, it's difficult to accept Linderman as the misunderstood-but-ultimately-good mastermind.

Still, Linderman super-healing the plant was extremely cool. Such a subtle effect, and such a delightful nod to what we know from the graphic novels.

At the Primatech Fun Factory, Parkman wakes up to discover that he didn't get a bed, but that he did get a tray with fruit. That's just so thoughtful of The Company! And so useful to the plot.

Matt's telepathy passing through walls was a neat detail; we'd seen it go through solid objects in "Don't Look Back," but here it's shown to pass through several walls and filter out even more voices to hone in on one specific voice.

Then Bennet basically does to Matt what Thompson did with Bennet. He uses the prospect of loved ones to manipulate Matt, spurring him into action by telling him he'll never see his wife again. Which is true, but it's also a little sly when you realize that Bennet's only real interest is taking out "the tracking system" and preventing The Company from hunting down Claire.

Between Bennet playing on Matt's hopes of returning to his wife and Thompson using an illusionist to conjure up the image of Bennet's daughter, I'm not sure Bennet is the hero here that he was in "Company Man." Although he is funny, and Matt thinking aloud that he hates Bennet is played for laughs, and you can imagine the comedy the show's going to get out of the Road Trip that ensues.

At the Hotel of Antiquity, Linderman gets around to showing Nathan a painting of Hiro saving the schoolgirl in "One Giant Leap." Again, nice nod to the backstory, and the kind of thing which makes us think, because if Linderman's the one overseeing The Company and bringing all of the heroes together, you wonder why he hadn't zeroed in on Papa Sulu's son, and you wonder why he didn't know about the kid's quest to track down Kensei's sword. Less a plothole than an unresolved story thread, but it's something which needs explaining.

Linderman lays out his crazy-ass plan to let New York get nuked and put Nathan in a position to unite mankind through a common fear and a united sense of hope. Which is all kinds of Ozymandias and a little too Watchmen-esque for a lot of fans. But then, it affords McDowell the chance to play a deranged lunatic at the same time as a civilized mobster and a misunderstood superhero, and at this point it's so twisted and bizarre that I wonder how the actor pulled it off. McDowell just sails with the complexity in these scenes.

Linderman gets to the part about the "others" who discovered their powers and turned into a bunch of two-faced, power-hungry, b**chy traitors who turned against him. And Cristine Rose's name appears in the credits at this exact moment. Which is just a hilarious coincidence, I'm sure, but it's also pretty much a giveaway when it comes to the backstory.

We learn that the previous Superhero Clan was "confused," that they "found each other" and "tried to make a difference." So, in a neat parallel, Linderman more or less describes the premise behind this season of the show, hinting at the resonance the show's focus on previous supers will have next season. If it's even remotely as well-crafted as this scene, it's going to rock. McDowell brings this amazing wave of guilt and regret when he's delivering this dialogue. For a moment, you feel for the character, because that sadness overcomes all of the insincerity and deviousness and brings out something genuine. It's the only moment so far when you know Linderman isn't hiding behind a facade.

Nathan doesn't buy into any of it. Then he checks out his iron-clad jaw and deliciously handsome scowl in a painting which depicts him in the Oval Office, and even though he immediately goes on to mention that his Spongeman bro will be the one who levels New York and wipes out half the city's population, the sight of himself in the White House is enough make him wonder.

Meaning the people who defended Nathan from the start (myself included) now look like idiots and need to shut up.

At the Primatech Fun Factory, Bennet demonstrates that he knows every nook and cranny of his paper factory. Like, he even knows which pipe in the cell is rusty. And which cell Matt's being kept in to begin with. And that banging on the pipe will be just audible enough to attract the attention of a guard, who'll immediately identify the exact cell the noise came from. Also, Bennet knows exactly how long it'll take for the guard to get to the cell, regardless of which guard is on duty. And exactly where every guard in the build-

Oh, you get the point. There's such a thing as a well thought-out plan, and then there's a plan which is just so ridiculously perfect that it feels like it's built for the plot.

But then Matt bangs on the pipe and Jack Coleman gets that cheeky "Who's-a-good-boy!" grin. And I can't help smiling too, so I'm almost willing to let the implausibility slide. It's like Papa Sulu growling in "Distractions"; you let the imperfections go because your lasting impression comes from the final shot: the one which makes you smile.

Now, the next scene? That's a different matter.

As per "Parasite," Peter visits the Apartment of Evolution and finds Mohinder pinned to the ceiling and Sylar ready for the Big Showdown.

You know how this show sometimes re-shoots scenes? Like, when Claire and Daddy Bennet were in the hallway at Canine Central before RadioTed and Matt showed up? They re-shot this scene, but they edited out the emo-bang falling onto the floor.

Also? Sylar and Peter's edited dialogue:

"Before you die, Peter, there is something you should know!"

"What?"

"I am your father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate."

"What's that make us?"

"Absolutely nothing! Which is what you are about to become! Prepare to die!"

No, seriously, if the show's going to create such an elaborate network between superheroes around the world, you'd better believe that Peter and Sylar are related.

Sylar TK's Peter to the wall and makes with the scalp-treatment. Peter insta-heals. Sylar gets thrown across the room. Mohinder falls to the floor. Peter turns invisible. And then the shard of glass and the chalkboard.

Disappointing? A lot of people thought so. Too brief, and too unimaginative. Greg Beeman even mentions in his blog that the scene was simplified because of budget cuts.

But is that a cause for complaint? To me, no. It's disappointing that the scalp-slicing (which a lot of us predicted would lead to Peter's scar) was resolved so quickly. But leaving the smackdown until the season finale doesn't bug me at all. I'm almost glad the show abandoned the idea of Sylar being thrown out the window and plummeting to the sidewalk below. Because that's already been done on this show, and the first occasion was too awesome to be imitated.

My gripe with this scene is in the details.

Sylar floating the shards of glass was flawless. Peter taking a shard in the back of the head and blood appearing on the glass before Peter rematerializes is even more impressive.

But then you start to wonder: was the only reason Peter took the glass in the back of the head so that no one would revive Peter before Claire got around to running her fingers through his hair?

And then you start to wonder: if Peter could work that time-bending, uber-cool, "don't-you-shoot-that-taser-probe-at-me-dude!" whammy in "Distractions", how does this shard of glass even get close to him?

And then you also start to wonder: if Peter had his back to Sylar, was the wimp running away, or was he just diving for cover?

I'd like to believe that Peter's heroism prevailed along with his sense of survival. But the implication here is that Peter's a rookie when it comes to the super-smackdown, so it's definitely possible the guy was scared out of his wits and about to make a run for it.

So Sylar watches Peter keel over, stands there for a moment to "mwa ha ha," and drools at the prospect of the brain he's about to munch on. And apparently this level of anticipation is such that Sylar's super-hearing temporarily conks out, because Mohinder now has a chance to wheel a chalkboard across the apartment and knock the guy over.

You know what? I'm taking out the SUPER- in super-hearing. Because a hard-of-hearing Sylar would have heard that chalkboard coming.

You'll also note that Mohinder conveniently gets a clear path across the apartment to roll the chalkboard. This in an apartment strewn with smashed furniture and broken glass.

(You begin to see why I thought this scene didn't work, yes?)

Then the ultimate gag. And not in a Papa-Sulu-growling kind of way. More in a Simone-keeps-the-key kind of way. I was tempted to make it this week's Unsolveable Dilemma, but, you know, that just lends it too much dignity.

Sylar gets the K.O. and goes down, lights out, good night.

And Mohinder's first reaction isn't to grab his revolver and put a bullet through the b*****d's head?!

"But what if the gun only had one bullet?"

Good point.

"But Mohinder didn't succeed the first time he shot Sylar, so why would he try again?"

Even better.

"But Mohinder's one of the non-super-powered heroes. He wouldn't kill an unconscious villain who's lying helpless on the floor. It's not the same as shooting him in vengeance when the villain's awake. This would be wrong!"

One of the best counter-arguments I can think of.

So, bearing in mind all of these, you have to wonder why Mohinder doesn't just pump the guy with a few gallons of curare, sling him onto a cart, wheel him to Mordor and hurl him into the fires of Mount Doom.

Instead, he hauls Peter into a taxi, checks his wallet, and takes him to Mommy Petrelli.

And Sylar?

Let's just leave him at the apartment and hope he's gone when Mohinder gets back!

*Sigh*

Petrelli Castle. And if you thought the Apartment of Hospice Luxury was somewhere only millionaire New Yorkers lived, you're going to think Mommy Petrelli is royalty. This is one gargantuan residence.

But even when I was in awe of the set, nothing prepared me for the name caption at the bottom of the screen: CLAIRE BENNET & ANGELA PETRELLI.

It's the first time Angela has been mentioned on the show. Bye-bye Mommy Petrelli, hello Angela. And doesn't it just make her so much less cold and austere and so much more approachable and endearing?

Now that's a good idea. And one so sneakily snuck in that you barely notice it.

In a room with a merry fireplace, Claire gazes at a photo of Nathan and Peter. Claire observes that when Peter and she first met, he "forgot to mention that [they] were related." It's not like he was distracted, what with falling off a roof, being led away in handcuffs and having an apocalyptic premonition that put him in a coma.

Also? NO ONE had any idea they were related. It was a happier time. The Claire/Peter shippers laughed and frolicked. The sun shone, the birds sang, the flowers bloomed. All was right with the world.

Then the show went and made them uncle and niece, and ... Ew!

Angela calls Claire "Nathan's folly in Texas." Which, surprisingly, doesn't persuade Claire to take a staple gun to her grandma's hand and jam a two-foot steel rod in her neck to test whether she too can regenerate. Instead, Claire listens politely while Angela rambles on about how she and Grandpa Petrelli "made arrangements" for her until that accident with Mommy Firestarter. Then it got so intricate that I gave up trying to figure the whole thing out. There's obviously a backstory with the Petrellis and Linderman, and now we know that Linderman's apparently the Big Boss of The Company, but it's not clear what Angela knows about Meredith, and it's not clear how the Haitian became Angela's eyes and ears in Odessa.

So Angela's tells Claire that even though she can grow back her bones and spit up bullets, she "needed to be protected." And Claire's all, "Kiss my butt, Grandma! I don't NEED protecting!"

Yes she does -- from the Angry Wives Club! Seriously, folks, if you haven't seen it yet, check it out. Hayden's so cute when she's indignant. And whether she's 16, (28,) 32 or 64, I will totally be there for her.

Angela? She'll be there for Claire. Not in an oatmeal cookies and school plays kind of way, but, you know ... in the SOCK-STEALING KIND OF WAY!

It's possible there's an explanation for Angela's attention-seeking kleptomania in the show's premiere. It's also possible that we'll eventually find out what it is. But the problem is we're being asked to accept a big change in character: Angela starts out stealing socks and looking at Nathan like he's a %*@# for putting his election before family; then, suddenly, she's orchestrating faux-brunches, ensuring Nathan gets favorable press coverage, telling Nathan to throw some money at his illegitimate daughter and "prioritize," and this week advising him to hide Peter's corpse until after the election so that it doesn't cause a media circus.

All of which leads to the revelation that, all this time, Angela was one of the Superhero Clan; a wise, all-knowing, affluent and all-powerful veteran of the previous generation of supers, tempered by experience and plagued with the memory of what happened.

Now throw in some sock-stealing! Because Angela was a lonely and neglected woman who just wanted her sons to give her a little attention.

It's not impossible. It just seems that way at this point, and I think it'll seem that way until the show goes full circle and explains what led up to "Genesis." Cristine Rose is infinitely better at projecting composure and confidence in this scene than she was at playing the forgotten mom at the start of the show. But given the contrast between those characters, and given the incredibly short space of time this story covers, it's asking us to buy into what seems to be a critical inconsistency. I don't doubt for a second that the show had a solid reason for writing Angela that way at the start, and I can't wait to see what that reason is. But at this point, it jars rather horribly.

Back to the scene: Angela tells Claire that Peter and Nathan "aren't in a position to be anything to [her] right now." Which is almost word-for-word what the Haitian told her. Only Cristine Rose is too scary for Claire to contemplate ditching her at an airport without a ticket. Also? Marseilles becomes Paris. And the prospect of Angela tagging along for shopping sprees ... It may well be Claire's greatest dilemma yet.

Actually, when Angela tells Claire that she'll one day have a choice between sticking around in Europe or "joining this madness" like Angela once did, you know Claire probably doesn't even want the option.

Also? You can bet that Angela's super-power is the craziest of the lot. I mean, Tim Kring said he assigned powers to the characters based on their circumstances. What kind of a power do you give to the uptight, stuck-up, silver-spoon brat that Angela must have been when she was growing up? It's probably something like speed-reading or super-daydreaming -- something that would get Angela through lectures at the Sorbonne and lead to her falling for a punch-first-think-later stud like "Dallas."

Cristine Rose plays this scene almost as well as McDowell played his: when Angela says she regrets a lot of the choices in her life, it's like Linderman telling Nathan that all of the good his Superhero Clan achieved amounted to nothing; it's a moment of sincerity. And behind Angela's veneer of austerity, it's as rare as Linderman's manipulation-free honesty. I'm blown away by how well delivered that line was.

Then the tribute to fans everywhere: Isaac meets the King of the Nerds. And Nerdeo's going to deliver Isaac's latest 9th Wonders -- "the latest and the last." "The last?" asks Nerdeo, with the expression you'll see if you visit a Star Wars convention and suggest that Greedo shot first.

(No, seriously, don't try that unless you want to see a bunch of grown men weep.)

But this is where Cabrera brought his A-game. He played the calm resignation perfectly; the certainty that, by handing over the comic and the sketchbook, he's setting events into motion. It's stuff like this which makes me wish the actor could have stayed on the show and gotten the attention he deserved.

"You promise you won't post any spoilers?" Nice shout-out, Heroes. Nerdeo grins from ear to ear and sees the caption, "Hiro in the Future!" It's all kinds of awesome. Then Isaac hands over his sketchbook, and Nerdeo looks like he's just been given the Holy Grail. Which isn't that far off; I mean, the guy's pretty much holding a step-by-step guide to the end of the season. So, amazing much? Nerdeo's practically in tears as he scampers away, and I can't blame him, because I probably would be too.

At the House of Supers, D.L.'s loading his bags onto the same Wagoneer he was driving in "Nothing To Hide."

Continuity points go up.

Niki's back to being Jessica, although you'll note there's no evidence of the way Nathan socked her in the face a day earlier.

Continuity points go down.

But then Jessica's feelings about protecting Micah appear; and for that, her story arc this week is one of the strongest of the episode. It's why this scene struck me as compelling from the moment it surfaced on the internet. It doesn't matter if the Niki/Jessica dual personality was never explained. It doesn't matter if D.L.'s discovery that he's been living with a killer is never dealt with. Ali Larter plays these scenes with such amazing nuance that you let it go. Here, having fired bullets over Micah's head to take out D.L., and having knocked her son against boulders in an attempt to smack the life out of the kid's father, we learn that Jessica suddenly has a conscience.

Which, if you can get over the way it comes out of nowhere, is a neat instance of the show's willingness to challenge its own conventions. Because if a ruthless, psychotic hitwoman can suddenly become the anxious and loving mother that Niki is, it's almost possible to buy that Linderman's an OK guy.

Or not.

D.L. tells Jessica that he's taking Micah away, because this isn't the environment for a kid, and D.L. doesn't want Jessica corrupting Micah the way Papa Sanders corrupted her. It's unintentionally funny when you recall that Micah's already a seasoned thief. But as we get further away from it, I doubt the show will ever address the implications of Micah's ATM heist. Looking back, I guess we're supposed to write it off as a desperate measure from a well-intentioned kid.

Malsky 2.0 pulls up in a generic black van and tells Jessica that Linderman wants to see her. And Ali gives this "Oh %*@#!" gulp which, for the character who always exuded such confidence, is bizarre; it's bizarre to see shades of Niki's doubt and uncertainty creeping into Jessica.

At the Primatech Fun Factory, Matt follows mental directions from Daddy Bennet and reaches the cell where RadioTed's being held. It turns out that RadioTed's gone from a suicidal, hostage-taking pseudo-terrorist to a genial and broken man who doesn't want to hurt anyone. His first reaction when Matt shows up is to refuse to leave. Which you could boil down to RadioTed not wanting to die in a crazy-ass escape attempt, but I think the more likely explanation is he wanted to stay at Primatech for the sake of everyone's safety. It doesn't redeem the man who pointed a gun at Sandra and beat Daddy Bennet senseless in front his family, but it's a start.

Petrelli Castle. Mohinder knocks at Angela's door and gently breaks the news that he's delivering her dead son's corpse. The problem here is we know everyone's grief is unfounded. We know that it's only a matter of time before someone pulls the glass out of Peter's head and the guy coughs back to life. Watching Angela sobbing over Peter is moving, sure. But it's not gutwrenching. The tragedy is muted because we know Peter's going to be fine.

But then, Sandra crying hysterically over Claire's body in "Company Man" worked fine, and that was basically the same set-up, so I'm not sure what's different here. It's suitably brief and well performed, but somehow it lacks the same sense of grief and loss.

Jessica shows up at the Hotel of Antiquity, and Linderman tells her that he needs "a small favor" from Micah. And unless it involves fixing the hotel's payphones or entering a Scrabble tournament, odds are this is the moment when the graphic novels and the interactive side of the show gel with the on-screen story: Linderman probably needs Micah to undo the havoc Hana's causing in her effort to reverse the rigged election. Which is so totally cool as a storyline in its own right, but when it ties in so perfectly with the other media the story's working with, you want to applaud.

Primatech Fun Factory. Thompson discovers the pwned guard in Matt's cell and makes a mental note to install surveillance in the building's corridors. RadioTed's EMP pulse was a nice touch. As with using Matt's hearing to orchestrate the cover-up after Claire was shot, it's cool to see how Bennet uses the heroes' abilities in a way we didn't expect.

Nathan bursts through the front door of Petrelli Castle and calls out to his "Ma." Aww. And bearing in mind that he managed to get here in the time it took for Mohinder to take a downtown cab ride, you can't help imagining how Pasdar would have looked in that suit as he soared across the sky.

Nathan buries his face in Peter's clothes and weeps heartfelt tears. Fans of the Brotherly Bonding will love this. Pasdar fans will also be delighted. The only thing pulling me out is the fact that it's set up to make us grieve about two minutes before that grief is invalidated. And the fact that Nathan's sock-stealing ma is now advocating the cover-up of her favorite son's death to ensure it doesn't affect the other son's position in the polls doesn't help.

Oh, who cares. Brotherly Bonding! Drink!

Claire finds the shard of glass in Peter's head. And as forced as the set-up feels, Claire saving Peter is a cool parallel to Peter saving Claire in "Homecoming." I'd comment on the Claire/Peter chemistry here, but it's too painful to contemplate.

Peter returns from the dead and cracks morbid jokes with Nathan about keeping the shard of glass under a pillow. Nathan grapples with the idea of his brother dying. Peter tells him not to think about it, and it's more in a dismissive way than a reassuring, brotherly way, which I think is why a lot of people suspect that Peter's going to change from this experience. Moreover, he doesn't seem to give a crap about the professor who, as far as Peter knows, is still trapped in an apartment with a super-powered serial killer. If he's going to take a shower, slick back his hair and get a change of clothes before he checks on the guy in mortal danger, I'd say Peter's gotten colder already.

Nathan finds out about Peter and Claire's ability to regenerate. I can't figure out if this is the point where Nathan decides that letting the explosion go off and becoming president might not be such a terrible plan, but it definitely seems like he's weighing the option when he learns that Peter might survive. Given Peter's insistence on keeping Claire in New York to avert the city's destruction, Nathan's decision to send her away seems like a conscious effort to support Linderman's plan.

But Claire's totally on-board with a week in Paris with grandma. Because, hey, it's Paris, and grandma's rich!

Claire's bratty attitude in "Parasite" disappears this week; she wants to get to know her dad, but at the same time she understands why he wants her gone. Which could have come across as self-pitying if anyone other than Hayden was playing the part, but it once again allows the actress to demonstrate why she's one of the strongest members of the cast. She gets this look of hope and uncertainty when Nathan tells her he wants to be there for her. And even when she's tearfully nodding with understanding about why Nathan doesn't want her around, you get the sense that Claire's emotional growth over the course of the season just took another leap forward.

Pit Stop #1 on the SuperTrio Road Trip: the Burnt Toast Diner.

Ando's Caffeine Haven!

The show even got the same waitress Ando spoke to after Hiro teleported back in time.

Bennet, Matt and RadioTed sit down to coffee and cherry pie. It's revealed that Linderman is overseeing the operation of The Company. Which I guess works, just about. I'd been running with the other popular theory, that Linderman and Papa Petrelli were part of an organization working counter to The Company. But at this point it seems like every character and institution comes back to Linderman in the end, so it's not a total surprise.

House of Supers. Candice-as-Jessica-as-Niki pulls Micah out of school to hand him over to Linderman. Which is going to tick Jessica off no end when she figures it out, but also ticks me off because it makes Micah look like he's getting progressively dumber: he's gone from the super-intuitive kid who could tell Jessica and Niki apart over the phone to playing video games with Mom and never wondering why she's suddenly so carefree to not being able to tell the difference between an overprotective mom who packs his lunch and tells him to be a good boy by getting into a car with a stranger.

It's not like Micah could have acted on his suspicion and run. But then, he found his moment to run away from D.L. in "Nothing To Hide," so why he would go along with this charade is beyond me. Maybe Micah's just too tempted by Linderman's offer of a chance to "save the world." Because even though he's a minor offender, Micah still has the heroic spirit.

At the Apartment of Evolution, Mohinder decides it's time to pool resources with The Company and stop Sylar. Oh, Mohinder. Couldn't you have decided that before Sylar woke up and left the apartment?

*Ding!* Dumb As Mohinder, Part I.

Mohinder uses the calling card that sparked off countless hours of interactive fun. Thompson points out that Daddy Bennet's "no longer with the company." Meaning Mohinder was on the phone to a total stranger. And for all Mohinder knows, the shady company he was so afraid of in the past might actually have WANTED Sylar to escape and go on a killing spree.

But, hey, Mohinder's out of options. So let's phone the Primatech Fun Factory and invite them over.

*Ding!* Dumb As Mohinder, Part II.

Even better, let's ignore that overriding sense of suspicion that Thompson's more interested in studying Sylar than preventing him from a scalping spree. Let's work together!

*Ding!* Dumb As Mohinder, Part III.

Also? Mohinder wins this week's Gullible As Ando Award. He's now won it more times than Ando!

Apartment of Clairvoyance. Isaac finishes a painting of Sylar at the apartment. Sylar shows up, noting that Isaac's ability to paint the future is "just like the professor said." I seem to recall Sylar randomly taking Isaac's name from a list of contacts right before Mohinder drugged him, so it's unclear to me when Mohinder mentioned Isaac's ability. Or, for that matter, when Mohinder established Isaac's ability at all.

Never mind. The plotholes aren't what drag this down. To be fair, the performance from Cabrera and Quinto here is such that I really, really wanted to reward this episode with a decent score. There's such an eerie inner peace about the way Isaac accepts his death; and Sylar plays the homicidal delight with such restraint -- and such amazing contrast to the guy who was throwing a tantrum and smashing objects around him not a few scenes earlier -- that his performance here is on a level with McDowell's.

But doesn't this death raise some bleak questions about the message of the show? Between Charlie's death and Isaac's (and now, based on the most recent graphic novel, Hiro's thwarted attempt to alter an immutable future), why are we supposed to hope that New York's destruction can be avoided? Why are we supposed to feel a sense of optimism if everything's carved in stone, and if events depicted at the start of the show are now playing out almost exactly as they did at the start? The story's now coming full circle: a much younger and more naive Hiro's going to discover his power and teleport to New York, he's going to find the copy of 9th Wonders at the newspaper stand, he's going to visit Meester Eeezuk and pick up the revolver, and cops are going to bust in and arrest Hiro before a mighty explosion wipes out half of the city's population.

The show has painted a bleak picture from the start, but I always figured the plan was for certain events in the story to be averted. I thought Hiro's inability to save Charlie was a lame and contrived resolution to a romantic and poignant moment on the show. And, heck, this is almost as bad: this is killing off a likable character, but, worse, it's implying that no matter how hard a motley crew of superheroes tries, they need to accept the inevitability of fate. Which, on a show about people with extraordinary abilities trying to make a difference, seems to make the rather bleak statement that no one can change the future. Even if the cheerleader survives and Peter or Ted explode instead of Sylar (which, I have to admit, made for a stunning graphic novel this week), the end result seems to be the same now as it was at the beginning.

I'm still watching, and like everyone else, I'm still hoping. I just can't figure out why.

But then ... wait. Sylar's painting a green-skinned, claw-handed, hunchbacked Nathan in the Oval Office, and Hiro's standing on the Future Rooftop of Pigeonly Delight and taking in the devastation around him. And the pigeons are still nuked.

But get this: Hiro's suddenly convinced that if he and Ando stick around in the future, they'll figure out how to change the past.

So they can change the past? Charlie was a bust, and Isaac was going to die no matter what, but this isn't carved in stone? And even if Hiro's wrong about "the brain man" being caught, we're supposed to go along with his cheery resolution to change the past in spite of the fact that he'd previously decided it couldn't be changed?

Ando: "I'm confused." Oh, there isn't enough WORD! for that.

Hiro and Ando visit the Future Apartment of Clairvoyance, which now contains a lot of decorative threads around the room with newspaper clippings. Neat set, and neat concept, especially when Future-Hiro shows up to glare at Present-Hiro. And yet they're still standing there, without causing some kind of bizarre temporal paradox which rips apart the fabric of the space-time continuum.

Oh, whatever.

This episode was a mixed bag. It was a fitting conclusion to Isaac's character arc, the SuperTrio banter was entertaining, and McDowell knocked his scenes out of the park. But that stuff is thrown in with Angela's switch in character, a lot of twists in the plot which made zero sense, and the death of a character who, ironically, only got the opportunity to shine when he was about to be written out.

Some of you felt the previews and spoilers killed the episode; by the time it aired, a quarter of the episode was online, and the majority of the details in the plot had leaked to the show's fan sites. It didn't bother me, but then my issues with this episode mostly revolve around the characters and the premise rather than the suspense or the predictability. And in spite of the flaws, I'd still say it was buoyed by some excellent dialogue, some sparkling performances, and some neat details that helped to bring the episode to life.

3.5 out of 5