Yes, that really is how the episode title is spelled, no matter how many times the show changed it. Yes, Arthur really does look dead, no matter how many fans insist that a bullet to the front of the head won't kill anyone who regenerates. And, yes, Arthur's blood really is red. Don't go there, fanfic writers ...
Nathan finds his brother and dead father and heaves a heavy sigh. Subtly acted, although it's difficult to get a handle on what anyone's feeling here. The way Nathan blurts out that Peter "did it," I couldn't really tell whether Nathan was relieved or grief-stricken, although I'm guessing that was the idea: the conflict of emotions is where the brother-versus-brother arc starts to become compelling.
Peter: "I tried. It was Sylar."
Nathan: "Sylar, huh?"
You'd be forgiven for mishearing that as, "Sylar who?", although with hindsight it's easy to see why the show never bothered with a dramatic reveal to clue Nathan in to his new brother. Looking back, there was absolutely no point.
Surprisingly moving, even if you hated the way Arthur was written and played. The fact that Nathan's the one to kneel down and covers his dad's eyelids while Peter sits at a distance says a lot, particularly when Nathan was the one who idolized his father. As whimsical as Nathan's character arc has been this season -- from religious fervor to superpowered rescue effort to mass incarceration -- it's easy to buy how this moment steers his actions for the rest of the episode. When Nathan tells Peter that their father's plan is now theirs, it's as if he's trying to convince himself that their father didn't die in vain, and that he wasn't a total lunatic.
Or not. Maybe Nathan really is just as crazy as Arthur was. The way Pasdar brings the fixated stare and the way he enunciates Nathan's plan to [soft fairytale voice] "make the world a better place," you could equally buy that this is less about honoring Arthur's goals and more about becoming a deluded tyrant.
The staging throughout this sequence is superb: the way both brothers stand at the same time and the way they circle their father's body is as engrossing as it is disturbing. There's also something tragic about the way Nathan's trying to defuse the tension between them ...
... which boils down to Nathan trying to sway his brother to insanity, but which also sets up why Nathan will later feel justified for beating on his brother. The fact that Nathan offered a truce between them now -- and that Peter spurned it -- underscores why he'll end up wondering if he even recognizes his brother anymore. Peter's right to trick Nathan and knock him out, but he indirectly proves Nathan's suspicions to be true: Nathan can't trust anyone, even his own brother.
We cut to Primatech, where we've apparently missed dialogue along the lines of, "Hey, Dad, remember that blonde who showed up 16 years ago to nickname me 'ClaireBear'? Yeah, that was me! Also? That Japanese dude took my Catalyst! Then Grandpa tossed him over a rooftop and told me to tell Grandma he's 'won!'" The absence of this scene isn't as disappointing as the lack of anything to bridge Meredith's split from The Company in the graphic novels and her sudden return to Primatech now. It's easy enough to speculate that either Meredith decided to stay until the Level 5 villains were recaptured or that she decided to remain an agent and work separately from Noah. The point is there was no attempt to connect this storyline to the show's other media. It's not like viewers should need to know that Meredith and Noah disagreed over apprehending Metal-Arm Danny, but a line or two to maintain some semblance of continuity would have been cool.
Sylar goes supersonic from Fort Lee to Hartsdale, eluding the Haitian and killing off several Company security guards. It's sad, but, on the bright side, at least we now know that Primatech really did have what passes for security.
The option for a facility-wide lockdown makes sense, although you have to wonder what good it would do against anyone like D.L., who could phase through the grates on the windows, or anyone like Peter, who could TK the grates right off the windows, or even someone like Metal-Arm Danny, who could probably bust his way through most restraints. You also have to wonder whether anyone on the show has heard of this movie, because the similarities are a little too close to be ignored.
The sad part is how, in spite of the appropriation, this story thread had the potential for much more really great drama. Sylar and Angela are the only two who end up revealing how they feel about what they've been through over the course of this volume. Sylar goes out of his way to prove that everyone he traps is a "monster" like him, but it's hard to tell if Meredith, Noah or Claire are affected by anything they hear or witness. This was an opportunity to go back to Meredith's guilt over blackmailing Claire's father and abandoning her; it was an opportunity to follow through on Claire's storyline last week and to show how Claire's abandonment issues are outweighed by how much she loves and depends on her father; it was an opportunity to look at how Angela feels about Arthur's death, and whether she accepts any responsibility for the present situation.
By the end of this episode, we've no real impression that anything between these characters has changed. Angela now knows that Claire has a killer streak in her, but the dynamic between Claire, Noah and Angela is more or less the same as it was at the start of the episode. Which doesn't make any of this story thread unwatchable, but it seems like the concept was underdeveloped. The point of trapping several characters together is to watch them overcome their issues and work together, but more importantly to watch the dynamic between them develop. This was a chance to explore the questionable actions of some of the most compelling characters on the show, and the storyline was over before the show even scratched the surface.
Past Rooftop of Pigeonly Delight.
ElderPigeon! It wants Hiro to deliver a message! Tell the younglings that everything is going according to plan! The younglings are delighted.
Props to whoever came up with the CG street below. Most of our attention focuses on Hiro telling the pigeon how he screwed everything up --- which we aren't inclined to disagree with -- but if you look past Hiro sobbing, there's actually traffic moving in the shot below him.
Ando, Daphne and Matt visit the Apartment of Clairvoyance. Daphne wonders how history will change if Hiro dies in the past, earning an appalled look from Ando and Matt and reminding everyone else why Daphne is the single most awesome thing to come out of this volume.
Daphne observes that "they really cleaned this place up." I find myself wondering whether "they" refers to Team Pinehearst after they recruited Mohinder or Team Primatech after they removed the numerous cocoons Mohinder made. I also still wonder whether any of those cocooned individuals survived, even though I know I shouldn't.
Other things we shouldn't ponder:
Daphne walks past an intriguing black-and-white painting of a fiery monster and some poor sap standing on a rock. Which I figured wasn't supposed to pique our curiosity, but I couldn't help wondering if there was some larger significance to it when we get a scene from a different angle on the set ...
... and the painting has moved. Were the set decorators especially proud of this prop, or is this a hint that the Uluru storyline's still getting thrown around in the writers' room? You decide.
Daphne decides to go to the Helix Compound to find Mohinder. Matt's all, "No! Absolutely not! Too dangerous!" And I just have to say once again how much I've loved the way Brea Grant played Daphne this volume, because that "I'll-show-you-who's-wearing-the-pants-in-this-relationship" smirk before she speedyzips away is priceless.
Helix Compound. Mohinder, left without anyone to talk to, tells his recorder that his infection has spread to his lungs. This causes mass panic among Sendhil fans, prompting them to wonder whether stuff like this constitutes an actual spoiler.
Peter shows up at the lab, and Mohinder rambles about what it means to be "special" and "powerful" and OH. MY. GOD. Is that it? So protecting Molly from Sylar and avenging Chandra's murder and rescuing members of the superpowered population from a serial killer HAD ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH IT? Whatever. Mohinder's motive was boiled down to its simplest form 14 weeks ago, and I won't rehash the same complaint.
Daphne speedyzips through the lab and swipes Mohinder's vial so fast you hear canisters smashing. Small detail, but it's very cool.
Flint and Knox show up to help Peter trash the lab; which is to say, they do more than stand around looking like glorified extras. Flint wanting "payback" was a nice nod to continuity, especially now that no one's around to stop him from torching the guy who beat him into unconsciousness. Would Flint feel threatened by the idea of abilities for the masses? I can buy that Knox would be nervous: he relies on fear to empower him, and giving his enemies abilities would reduce the level of fear for him to feed off. But Flint? He wanted to be a Company agent. And he's a dumbass.
Having been imbued with superstrength, Chad opts not to go on a Hulk-style rampage around Fort Lee, instead visiting his boss when "Ms Strauss" becomes concerned. He even still calls Nathan "sir." Aw. It's typical that the show makes me like a character ...
... right before killing him off. And that sadness is compounded with the nausea-inducing neck-snapping-with-added-squelching sound effect.
The question you shouldn't be asking here is what happened to Arthur. The trail of blood looks like it leads underneath Chad and out of the door, so presumably someone dragged him out between the moment Peter pwned Nathan and the moment Chad woke Nathan up. Whether it's Peter, Chad or someone else who removed the body -- and whether they took him to the Pinehearst morgue or somewhere completely different -- is likely a point that the show will never address. As gaffes and plotholes go, it doesn't stick out too prominently, but it does kind of hang there feeling as unresolved as it does amusing.
Daphne returns to the Apartment of Clairvoyance, and Matt warns Ando that The Formula won't necessarily make him a time-traveler. Daphne points out that abilities are an extension of character, predicament and temperament, and although I'm not sure what that says about Maya, it strikes me as extremely cool that the show kept this dialogue in the episode. It underscores how Ando's innate ability is to motivate and drive the people around him, and that role had been limited to Hiro for two-and-a-half seasons. By removing Hiro's abilities and giving Ando the ability to ramp up everyone else's, the show opens up enormous possibilities for the character. It sucks that one of the few non-superpowered characters now joins the rest of the special clan, but it also rocks that -- for the first time since the first season -- Ando seems to have a purpose beyond slapstick humor and listening to Hiro yammering.
Hiro climbs from the flagpole to the Past Rooftop of Pigeonly Delight, then finds Kid-Hiro mourning the loss of his mom. I would have advised Hiro to reassure his younger self by pointing out that he'll be running around and waving his sword when they next meet at Mama Sulu's funeral. Then it occurred to me that, with the timeline changed and Adult-Hiro posing as the family chef, Kid-Hiro really should recognize Adult-Hiro when he shows up at the funeral.
*HEADACHE!*
Midas Study. Claire tests the external phone line and the grate outside the window, and Angela settles into a comfy-looking couch in the middle of the room. Were the apples on the coffee table too much? Most of the biblical references and imagery work for me, but this seemed a little too obvious.
Angela describes Sylar as "a child starved for attention [who] throws a temper tantrum." Which ... kind of belittles the menace behind Sylar's Saw homage, and makes me wonder whether the show was in fact aiming for parody with this story thread.
Sylar phones Claire while casually stepping over another anonymous security guard. I find it morbidly amusing that the body count keeps mounting while Angela dismisses Sylar's actions as a "temper tantrum." When Sylar gives Claire the option to kill Angela in exchange for everyone else's freedom, Angela looks less disturbed than mildly entertained. Even when Sylar lists her main crimes -- planning to nuke a city, attempting to murder her husband and lying to Sylar about his lineage -- Angela's expression is ...
... completely inscrutable. Which was definitely the right call by Cristine Rose because it emphasizes how composed Angela remains under almost any circumstances. It also dovetails very nicely with her refusal to indulge Sylar's "tantrum" when she knows he's planning to kill them all anyway.
Sylar: "I could've been a nobody instead of the monster I became."
Great delivery by Zach. You can hear the rage beneath the surface, and you can see Sylar staring into space while he imagines what could have been. It doesn't completely explain why Sylar killed Elle, but it's something, the implication being that Sylar doesn't blame Elle for following orders and provoking him into becoming a killer, but rather for provoking him into becoming something he couldn't change back from. It's a subtle spin on the guy who last week rediscovered how much he enjoys ripping people's heads open, but it also ties in with Sylar's "nobody-ever-really-changes" speech before he killed Elle, and, perhaps more obliquely, with his attempt to go back to being "a nobody" back in the first season.
Noah and Meredith return to The Basement and release the remaining Level 5 inmates, who turn out to be Doyle, Metal-Arm Danny and Echo from the webisodes. For anyone who didn't know Echo from the webisodes, he was just another nameless casualty here. For everyone who did recognize him and looked forward to seeing his story continue on the show, this was pretty heartbreaking. I know David H. Lawrence XVII said this scene was longer and that dialogue was cut, but this final cut left Kiko Ellsworth's role close to non-existent. It's limited to standing in the background in this scene and lying very still in the next. I can get over the lack of characterization and the fact that we didn't even see Echo's ability on the show, but the lack of any dialogue? Not a single line? If it was a question of crunching it all into 42 minutes, I think we can all agree that this finale was better suited for a two-parter than "The Eclipse" was. There's very little in this episode that didn't need to be here, and there was plenty in "The Eclipse" that could have been compressed in order for this storyline to unfold over two episodes.
Anyway, Noah and Meredith point guns at Doyle like they think that'll be any use against him. I love how Beeman lowers the camera to just below Doyle's shoulders ...
... which ends up making these inmates even more intimidating and the guns even more useless.
The villains go their separate ways in a bid for their freedom, and Doyle stops to blow a kiss to Meredith. Cute detail, and very in character.
At the Apartment of Clairvoyance.
Ando: "Do I have abilities?"
Daphne: "So far, all we know is that you can pass out really well."
Funny, and in a scene that marks a surprising change of pace and tone from the rest of the episode. It's effectively this episode's Leg-Up-To-The-Air-Vent: a scene that's played for laughs and breaks up the intensity of the rest of the episode. The cool part is that, as with Sylar's lie detector last week, it doesn't disrupt the flow of the episode, it serves the characters, and it really is funny.
Matt: "Scrunch gently. You don't wanna jump back to the Stone Age."
Line of the night.
Too funny. I love the bewildered expression Daphne and Matt get when nothing happens, and how Ando feels like they're crowding him and steps forward to test his ability with more privacy.
Meredith and Sylar leave The Basement and decide it's best to split up, earning them each a Dumb As Peter Award. Meredith comes across Metal-Arm Danny's severed arm -- complete with still-twitching fingers -- before being flanked by Sylar and Doyle.
The showdown was effectively done, but it's especially remarkable for the way we find ourselves rooting for Doyle even after the Russian roulette scene. Doyle points out that he's as likely to kill Meredith as love her, but the fact that he cares enough to protect her -- as twisted as his interpretation of caring might be -- speaks for his character. Every aspect of the guy's actions -- and every nuance of Lawrence's performance -- are true to the spirit of the character. He's creepy and psychotic, but he's also disarmingly warm and protective when it comes to Meredith, to the point where he can show up to fend Sylar off. Even if you know he'll slice a broken bottle top along her neck, you're genuinely glad he's there because he's the lesser of two evils.
But then, Sylar's the one who, once upon a time, kissed his mom on the forehead and put himself in danger to save his brother. Say what you like about this volume; it came up with some bizarre stuff for its villains and screwed around with our sympathy in the best way.
Sylar's TK trumps Doyle's puppeteering, gives Doyle a nosebleed and floors him. It does look like he's back in the next volume, so it's safe to say this didn't kill him, and neither did all of Primatech collapsing over him.
Noah ends up back in The Basement and discovers ...
Damn you, editors.
Goodbye, Echo! We wish we could have known anything about you from the show, as opposed to what we already knew from the webisodes and graphic novels. We hope to see you in many flashbacks and dream sequences in which you get a speaking part.
Sylar using a shot of adrenaline to boost Meredith's pyrokinesis makes sense if we assume he knows about the connection between abilities and adrenal glands. Given the number of times he's hacked open heads and acquired people's abilities, I guess it's possible. The more relevant question seems to involve the subtext behind Sylar wanting Noah to kill his adoptive daughter's biological mother. There are several shots in this scene ...
... that seem intended to emphasize how deeply Sylar and Noah understand one another. It could be that this was Sylar's way of lashing out at Angela -- forcing his pseudo-role model to kill his daughter's mom and break her heart; or Sylar wanted Claire to hate Noah as much as Sylar hates Angela for lying to him; or he wanted Noah to feel as guilty about lying to Claire as he thinks Angela should feel for lying to him.
Or he's just a "sick bastard" (< < Quote! I don't need to censor it!) who enjoys playing mind games. You decide. Whichever it is, I don't think it's a coincidence that Sylar's dialogue here -- "You made me into who I am" -- so closely resembles Nathan and Arthur's "I made you" dialogue last week. Noah's as much of a mentor and surrogate father to Sylar as Arthur ever was, and to engineer a situation where Noah's trapped in a situation and forced to kill the way Sylar was seems like a twisted attempt to give the two of them even more in common.
Helix Compound. Nathan thwacks Knox and makes a dash for the door, and then:
Goodbye, Knox! You were a two-dimensional villain, but we loved you! You were portrayed with visceral menace by Jamie Hector, and we wish we could have gotten to know you better. We hope to see you in many flashbacks, dream sequences and alternate realities.
Tracy urges Nathan to get out of Pinehearst and deny having anything to do with it ... which earns Tracy plus points for coming up with a smart plan, as well as for being as ice-cold as ever when she's stroking Nathan's neck and fingering his chest and charming the heck out of Nathan in order to manipulate him. Her charm's even more commendable when you recall that she's keeping it up with a pool of Papa Petrelli's blood at her feet and a dead supersoldier lying in the doorw-
Wait a second, where is Chad's body?
Seriously, folks: Nathan breezes out of the door and shows no sign of stepping over a body. Is there some kind of mystical corpse-remover at Pinehearst?
Apartment of Clairvoyance. Ando's Force lightning manifests, and well done to the show's visual effects department for distinguishing it from a straightforward red Ellectrobolt, because the sparks look chaotic and out-of-control, the way they would for anyone who'd recently discovered the ability. They also earn Matt and Daphne Dumb As Peter Awards after Ando repeatedly tells them he can't control his ability and they continue touching him on the arm. I realize this was the only way for the storyline to move forward, but come on: when a guy's emitting supersparks, it's probably smarter if you DON'T TOUCH HIM!
Matt gets Ando-zapped and hears the thoughts of everyone in the city. I can't help thinking that the effect could have been better -- for a second longer, and with more voices -- but it's a very cool idea.
Then Ando zaps Daphne and sends her 20 seconds into the past ... and Matt uses his recollection of high-school physics to apply Einstein's Theory of Relativity ... and posits that Daphne can use Ando's ability to travel through time. And this is where I respond to everyone who ever told me that I couldn't suspend disbelief for this show, because I'm going to let this slide without saying a single word ... except to let you know that my BS Detector currently sounds like a World War II air raid siren.
Sulu Penthouse. Hiro and Kid-Hiro remove The Formula from Papa Sulu's safe and are immediately caught by Papa Sulu. The Kensei sword in the apartment was a nice detail, but mostly I love that both Hiros instinctively obey their father when he tells Kid-Hiro to go to bed, and that the only reason Papa Sulu sends Kid-Hiro to bed is because he doesn't want his son to see him hacking the chef to pieces.
Back up a second. This is a timeloop, right? The Formula was always ripped in half by Hiro. It wasn't an intentional effort on Papa Sulu or Angela's part to keep the two halves separate. If that's true, then Hiro was destined to always go back in time, become The Catalyst, lose The Catalyst, break into Papa Sulu's safe and rip The Formula in half. If that's true, then Hiro was destined to always be The Catalyst instead of Claire, unless there was some original timeline we've never seen in which the Formula plans were complete and in which Claire really did become The Catalyst before Hiro showed up to usurp it from Mama Sulu. But if that's the case, substantial portions of this volume could never have happened, which means Arthur would never have retrieved both parts of The Formula and Hiro would never have needed to go back in time in the first pl-
Oh, never mind. Somehow it makes sense.
Daphne speedyzips Ando and Hiro forward 16 years.
Aww.
Hiro: "Nemesis, you have a chance to make up for your past, and for me to make up mine."
With that last part, I hope Hiro means opening up Papa Sulu's safe, and that he's learned not to act on his boredom. If he'd kept the safe locked, most of this disaster wouldn't have happened.
Calling Daphne "nemesis" for the billionth time wasn't as annoying as it used to be: it's cool that it's now more of a nickname, and that it serves as a reminder of how far the character's come since she was introduced.
Daphne speedyzips Hiro to the Helix Compound. Tracy ices Arthur's safe, removes the two halves of The Formula, calls Hiro "Pikachu," and then ...
Oh, boy. Oh, boy. And we were worried that this Hiro wouldn't be as proactive as the 10-year-old one.
Daphne's reaction pretty much sums it up, but I want to praise whoever came up with Hiro pausing to bow to Tracy before he decks her, because THAT? ... makes all the difference in the world.
We cut to Mohinder's lab, which Peter and Flint are still trashing. How long have they been at this? I wonder if they'll still be smashing vials and tipping over shelves when I finish this review.
Mohinder gets doused in The Formula after Peter and Flint tip a vat on its side. He loses the peeling flesh, but does that mean he lost his strength and wall-crawling? I can't see why getting soaked in a power-imbuing formula would remove his powers, but this episode wraps up the whole powers-for-all storyline, so it would make sense for Mohinder's powers to end with it. There were several intentionally open-ended story threads in this episode, but I'm not sure this was supposed to be one of them.
After several eons of vandalism, Flint decides he's ready to set fire to the lab. Nathan shows up to club Flint over the head, and then proceeds to start beating on his brother. And the look on his face ...
... is of a guy who no longer recognizes his brother.
And this, right here -- Nathan brutally beating Peter while discordant strings tell you this is an Overwrought Moment -- is where you either buy into the episode's brilliance or write the whole thing off as garbage. This is inarguably asking viewers to take an enormous leap. I bought into it, but that's mostly because I bought into the idea that all of Nathan's experiences led up to it: his parents used him as a lab rat, his father tried to have him killed, his wife left him and got a restraining order to keep him from their kids, his new girlfriend went behind his back and conspired with his father, his future-brother shot him, and his present-brother pointed a gun at him, told him he was crazy and knocked him out.
It's hard to ask viewers to buy into the transformation Nathan underwent in less than four episodes, but the rationale for turning on Peter -- when he and everyone else had already turned on Nathan -- is there. It wasn't established in dialogue, and maybe it should have been, but when Nathan tells Peter that he broke his heart, Nathan's admitting that Peter was the one person he was counting on to not betray him; and when Peter does, the only thing Nathan's left with is his own sense of right and wrong.
Flint regains consciousness and torches the lab, and Nathan ... just stands there. Which I'm tempted to award a Dumb As Peter, but at this point I wonder whether Nathan even knew where he'd go or whether he cared if he lived or died. The way it's depicted, Nathan comes across as a broken man who's got very little left besides a warped set of principles and the conviction that he's doing the right thing.
Peter finds a vial of The Formula intact, injects himself, and apparently gets back his absorption ability, immediately soaking up Nathan's flight and pulling Nathan out of Pinehearst before it explodes. So, presumably, Peter now has the option to either visit every super he ever knew (and who's still alive) with the aim to re-absorb the abilities he used to have ... Or Peter (and for that, read the show's writers) will be a little smarter about which supers he comes into contact with, and this time he won't end up with an armada of abilities that can only be controlled by amnesia, body-swapping or power-sucking.
We go from one Overwrought Moment to another as we cut to Angela and Sylar AND ABOUT FIVE BILLION TICKING CLOCKS at the Midas Study. Seriously, the clocks in this scene are deafening.
Angela: "So, you killed Arthur."
Sylar: "I certainly did."
Angela: "Then you saved the world. I was right about you all along. You are a hero."
Great dialogue. As with pretty much all of Angela's dialogue, it sounds crazy on paper but ends up sounding reasonable when Cristine delivers it. The staging and camera also do a lot of the work: Sylar forcing Angela into the chair and dragging her across the office reinforces how he's overpowered her ...
... and the way Sylar's a hair's width away from Angela brings out how much the dynamic between them has changed since Angela first visited Sylar in his cell.
Sylar asks Angela if she's really his mother, she tells him she's not, and the clocks freeze. If this isn't the first time a show used ticking clocks as an expression of a character's emotional disposition, it's got to be the most awesome.
Sylar replies that, for a moment, he wishes Angela was his mother, and Angela's expression when she hears this ...
... absolutely kills me. I wish we'd seen more of this throughout the episode, but in a way, getting little doses of it like this gives it even more impact.
Angela skips the BS and admits that she wanted Sylar to be everything that Peter and Nathan weren't: a destructive unethical Company drone who'd willingly become a tool and wouldn't balk at the idea of taking out a few million innocent individuals every now and then. Angela's admission that she's "a monster too" is in character, tying in very elegantly with her admission to Matt back in "Cautionary Tales" that the ElderSupers "mortgaged [their] souls" for the sake of their children. It's also a brief but illuminating window into the way Angela feels about her life and her actions -- the underlying idea being that she knows she's doing good but that it comes at the cost of her soul and any sense of inner peace.
Sylar: "Is there any good in this world? Tell me something -- anything. Just make me believe that you're not the same as me..."
The dialogue alone doesn't do it justice, because Zach -- like Cristine -- nails this scene. In spite of the about-turn the character underwent over the course of 13 episodes, Zach sells it. You can buy that Sylar wants to believe in something to counter his own evil.
The revelation that Angela knows who Sylar's biological parents are kills the suspense behind Sylar's death. You can see the show's love affair with Sylar saving him a mile off, but it's also that there's no way the show would drop in a line about Sylar's parents and then make the revelation a moot point by killing the character off.
But let's pretend, if only for a moment:
Claire sneaks up on Sylar, and ...
Goodbye, Sylar! You were a magnificent villain! You were complex and entertaining and terrifying, and even though a lot of us think you should have died a lot sooner, we're sorry to see you go. We hope to see you in many flashbacks and dream seq-
Oh, why bother? Nice try, Heroes. You're not fooling anyone.
Noah somehow overrides the lockdown, lifting the grates over the windows and flooding the Midas Study with light and highlighting ...
... just how daaaaaaaaark Claire's become after not-killing Sylar, and ...
... just how traumatized Angela is after watching her granddaughter stab a killer with a shard of glass after months of pretending to love him like her own son.
Claire rediscovers her heart in time to say goodbye to Meredith.
Claire: "I love you, Mom."
There's not enough aww to capture how beautifully that scene was done. It was poignant and well-delivered and captured everything that was special about the relationship between these two.
Goodbye, Meredith! We'll miss you! You were fun and unpredictable and incredibly gorgeous, and you were a great role model for Claire. We hope to see you in many flashba-... Ah, you know the rest.
Damn. I really liked her. I guess it's possible she survived becoming a human fireball, but all of Primatech collapsing over her? I wouldn't put it past this show, but I'd be surprised.
Peter lands Nathan in a clearing outside Pinehearst.
Nathan: "Why'd you save me? Why'd you do it?"
Peter: "Because you're my brother."
And again, the aww is off the charts, not least because Peter's expression here ...
... is one of a guy who's appealing to his brother the same way that his brother appealed to him an hour earlier.
The look from that brother now ...
... is one of a guy who doesn't know who he's looking back at anymore. Nicely played by Pasdar, because that look underscores how the whole relationship between Nathan and Peter has disintegrated.
Primatech burns. Shenkar wails. V.O. Mohinder ... uh, v.o.'s. And Tracy pulls up in a sports car to save Mohinder from having to hitchhike back to Chandra's Crib.
Try not to be too proud of yourself, Hiro. Most of this is your fault.
Usutu lives!
... Or not. It might just be a specter of Matt's spirit walk. I guess an apparition of the turtle would have undermined the profound nature of this closing montage. Usutu inexplicably appearing in New York is admittedly much more effective.
We zoom into Claire's eye -- because you know this show will be all about her from now on -- and thus ends a volume that's been at times incoherent and exasperating, but at times also entertaining and thought-provoking.
4 out of 5
Aaaaaaaaaand we're off. Nathan meets the president, and he turns out to be ...
PRESIDENT WORF?!?
Well done, Heroes! Picard couldn't be prouder! Prophet-Sisko sends his congratulations! Kahless finds it an honorable vocation! Alexander and the House of Mogh say "Kapla"! Jadzia's Trill spots are glowing! Troi senses your confiden-
OK, I'm done here.
Nathan hands Worf a dossier containing everything he knows about -- among others -- Tracy, Micah, Mohinder, Matt and Hiro. Nathan wants to round them all up and lock them in a secure facility, but I'm guessing Worf's going to take a bat'leth and slice open their necks before ripping out their intestines and returning to Qo'noS to celebr-
OK, now I'm really done here.
Nathan pauses to look as photogenically conflicted as Pasdar can make him. He should: his storyline was the crux of this finale, and, at least from the look of it, the springboard for the central storyline in Volume Four. It's also a big part of what helped the show to finally move beyond the rut it's been stuck in for most of Volume Three. With Primatech NY and Pinehearst gone, the superpowered society exposed and two of the ElderSuper offspring at one another's throats, the status quo has been dismantled. It'll be close to impossible for the show to fall back on the story conventions it followed before this finale, meaning the only direction the show can now go is forward. This preview was detailed -- more so than either of the previous volumes' -- which is a hopeful sign that the show has a very specific idea about where it wants to go, and -- perhaps more importantly -- a specific plan about how it wants to get there.
Here's hoping it turns out that way. In the meantime, thanks to everyone for reading, enjoy the vacation, and we'll see you in the spring.]]>
These birds are pissed, Heroes! They want to know how you could go back to the Rooftop of Pigeonly Delight and not show either the ElderPigeons OR The Bearded One. And how, instead, you could tell a story that involves -- of all things -- a dove.
They might not have loved this episode, but I did. After half a season of secret formulas, catalysts, cocoons, amnesiac main characters and soap-opera plot twists, it's a delight to finally get an episode that's as poignant and thought-provoking as this one: an episode that deftly reverses several of the problems that plagued this volume, and one that -- for the first time this season -- truly showcases the brilliance of the show's cast, writers and directors.
If you can get over Christopher Eccleston's conspicuous absence after the last time this scene played out, the episode plunges into its story with astounding pace. Papa Sulu and Noah are talking in Japanese, Kid-Hiro's playing his brick-sized GameBoy and BabyClaire's peering up at her adoptive father. Papa Sulu hands BabyClaire over to Noah, and it might just be the way this was shot that makes it so much more obvious than it was in "Company Man," but when Noah takes BabyClaire in his arms ...
... he actually bends his legs. It's a tiny detail, but it's one of a million nuances Jack Coleman brings to his character. It shows how tentative and uneasy Noah was about this assignment being thrust onto him.
Claire realizes that the baby in Noah's arms is herself, and I'm guessing it's 10-year-old Hiro's incomprehension that spares us any dialogue along the lines of, "Oh, me as a baby! Aren't I pretty? Look how everyone loves me! Me me me me meeeeeeeee!" Remarkably, we're this week spared any of Claire's self-adoration or typical passive-aggressive whining. At first, I struggled to put my finger on why the Claire/Hiro scenes were so much more effective than any scenes Claire's had with almost any character who's not one of her parents this season.
Then the reason hit me:
Claire can't bemoan what a lousy parent she thinks Noah's been lately because it'd be like talking to a wall. Hiro probably wouldn't even stop to listen.
Hiro: "'Where is train station?' 'I must use toilet.' 'More waffles, please.'"
Very cute. It's designed to be cute, but it flies because of the context and the delivery. It's bookended by the adorableness of BabyClaire and Kid-Hiro, and its qualified by both 10-year-old Hiro's proud smile when he recites the lines he remembers and by Claire's "Yeah, that's nice" look of disdain when she realizes who she's stuck with. Well done, show: you've officially suckered me into liking these characters again.
Should 10-year-old Hiro remember living in a New York apartment? It was easier to explain in "Company Man" when the implication was that Papa Sulu had brought Kid-Hiro on a one-time business trip, but the revelation this week that the Nakamuras actually lived in the Deveaux Building -- presumably even before Papa Deveaux did -- makes it a tougher sell. Unless they're repressed or Haitian-whammied memories, you'd think Kid-Hiro's recollection of Mama Sulu dying here would spark off at least some associations when he ended up standing on the same rooftop in "The Hard Part."
Too cute. There's a comedic element which keeps you wondering if they're going to trip and fall, but the other half of the appeal is that neither character really knows what they're doing here until this scene; unlike the other instances when Hiro and Peter traveled through time, no one's on a mission here. Even after Hiro and Claire realize what they need to do, the focus remains on the emotions rather than the objective. The pretext about The Catalyst takes a back seat to Hiro bonding with Mama Sulu and Claire meeting a hapless Sandra. The plot drives the episode in the end, but the emphasis throughout is more on what Hiro and Claire are feeling than what they're working towards.
We meet Mama Sulu, who's brilliantly played by Tamlyn Tomita and whose attachment to her son is so beautifully conveyed that you grasp how her death left Hiro emotionally stunted, and how it forced him even deeper into a fantasy life of comics and video games. Mama Sulu's also so stunningly gorgeous that -- between her and Sandra -- I this week find myself torn between the show's bountiful selection of hot moms.
Mama Sulu: "We must face the inevitable. I think it will happen tonight."
A surprisingly crucial line, if only to establish that Mama Sulu was going to die whether she transferred The Catalyst or not, and that Hiro's insistence on getting The Catalyst wasn't the direct cause for his mom's death.
"We must make arrangements for The Catalyst before it is lost forever."
... Which would suck because ...?
Seriously, why not let it die with Mama Sulu? The Nakamuras obviously knew enough to leave Arthur out of the loop; even if the ElderSuper photo was taken about now, it's obvious the group was splitting off into separate factions and distrust was rife among them; Papa Sulu's whole argument for nixing the decision to make his boy the next host is that he's irresponsible and can't carry the burden, so he obviously knew there were risks attached to keeping a part of The Formula active. So besides the potential for drama, what was the benefit of keeping The Catalyst? It's not a plot hole, but definitely something left undeveloped. Papa Sulu's rationale for keeping the project alive is never explained beyond the vague suggestion of scientific curiosity.
It looks like he's ready to start bawling. Wonderfully played by George Takei. Solemn and affecting, and very consistent with the guy we'll next see crying his eyes out at Mama Sulu's funeral.
Papa Sulu growls contemplatively, then tells Mama Sulu that Noah's baby is "the perfect candidate," which has me cracking up at a moment that was meant to be earnest. I guess Papa Sulu might have known about the circumstances leading up to Claire's birth, but the suggestion seems to be that he was mindful enough of his own son's incompetence to choose some random baby he knew nothing about as the recipient of the family's life-altering legacy.
Kid-Hiro sees the dove dying in its cage. The symbolism's appropriately underplayed and Hiro's cluelessness about what's going on is nicely underscored, but get this, folks:
They used a Japanese newspaper in the cage. Now that's attention to detail. Whoever came up with that -- Ruth Ammon, Dena Allen, James Clark -- they need a bouquet. The entire set for the Sulu Penthouse was beautifully made, the Manhattan skyline outside the window was so convincing you'd never realize it was CG, but details like this in the set production exemplify how much work went into this episode.
Mama Sulu: "This conversation isn't over yet."
Great dialogue, mostly because -- even at this point -- you trust that Armus and Foster are crafting their script with care. You know the dove isn't just a diversion to a conversation that'll never be mentioned again: you trust that they're going to come back to it, and they do. This episode shines because there are ramifications, within the episode itself if not within the rest of the show. Conversations are interrupted, but they resume instead of ending up ignored or forgotten.
Kid-Hiro retrieves the bird from its cage and hands it to his mom. Looking back, it's even more of an aww moment than it is at the time, because you realize Kid-Hiro had no idea his mom had a superpower. He was handing it to her because, like most kids, he believed his parents were infallible and omnipotent and could fix anything. In this case, Kid-Hiro's parents pretty much are, but the point is he's tapping into our own sense of childhood wonder and innocence.
We learn that Mama Sulu's ability is essentially the same as Linderman's, only it seems like she needs to kiss her benefactors instead of just touching them. Hiro realizes his mom can help him get his memories back without stomping on too many butterflies. Claire, on the other hand, seems a lot more gung-ho about rewriting history and preventing herself from becoming The Catalyst. And this, right here, is the first of very few complaints I have with this episode. It's a defensible decision: Claire probably figured that if she never became The Catalyst, it wouldn't matter if Team Pinehearst ended up capturing and vivisecting her. The problem is the way that rationale never becomes clear. You don't get the sense that Claire's trying to throw a wrench into Arthur's plans; it's more as if she's trying to undermine Papa Sulu's plans because being a component in a superpowered formula is an inconvenience for her.
To be fair, it could be even more straightforward than that: Claire might simply be thinking about how she can alter history so that she doesn't end up getting shot and Sylar never ends up choking her father to death in their home. But this is where the language barrier with Hiro poses a problem, because if Claire couldn't explain her motives to Hiro -- which would be dumb, because he'd have no idea what she was saying -- the alternative would be to explain them to Young Noah, which would screw up the timeline even more. There's no obvious solution, but the result is that Claire's attempt to avert disaster in the future ends up unclear. You never really get a handle on why she's so determined to prevent Papa Sulu from turning her into The Catalyst.
Papa Sulu discovers Hiro and mistakes him for the chef who was supposed to prepare breakfast. Should we be wondering what happened to the real chef? Probably not. But I wouldn't want to be him if Hiro hadn't gone back in time and been standing here right now to cover his ass. That glare in Papa Sulu's eyes is paralyzing. I love how Takei can move from tearful-and-torn-up to madder-than-hell in less than a minute.
Costa Verde Beachfront. Hiro wins a retroactive *PING!* Dumb As Peter Award for keeping the psychotic supervillains within comfortable traveling distance. Would it have killed Hiro to teleport Sylar to a deserted island?
Sylar answers his cell phone, and the impatient "What!?" he gives Arthur captures the shift in his storyline. "Dad" and "Sir" have become "Arthur." Sylar's eagerness to please has become brazen defiance. Nicely played by Zach, and a sign of how much he seems to be enjoying his role now that the whole Petrelli-with-a-Hunger arc has come to an end.
Elle's cell phone turns out to be a Sanyo. I'm pleasantly surprised that the show resisted turning this into a Sprint plug, but also appalled that a Company agent stored a list of supers AND THEIR ABILITIES on a cell phone. I guess anyone who found or stole the phone would assume that "strength" and "superspeed" and "pyrokinesis" were dirty euphemisms, but what kind of idiots at Primatech and Pinehearst came up with this policy? Can you imagine the security breaches they're dealing with every time a Company agent loses their phone? Or, you know, gets murdered with their phone on them?
Sylar pours lighter fluid over the woman he scalped, but pauses for long enough ...
... to rest a hand on her arm, and then long enough ...
... to look like this murder actually affected him. Or confused him. I'm not sure. Again, it's a part of a story I wish could have been better developed, and something that shouldn't have been left to speculation. It's still unclear why Sylar killed Elle, and whether it was the eclipse or Noah's revelation about his parents that snapped Sylar back into his first-season self.
Visually stunning, but also a subtle nod to the passion both actors put into their scenes together. As confused as the storyline turned out, there was no part of it that Zach and Kristen didn't act the hell out of.
Midas Study.
Angela: "One shot to the back of his head and it's done."
Angela: "Three teaspoonfuls of sugar and a dash of nutmeg."
Peter: "You want me to kill him?"
Peter: "You want me to leave out the cinnamon?"
Angela: "Why do you think I sent your brother and you to find the Haitian?"
Angela: "Why do you never listen to me when I tell you to add the cinnamon with the flour?"
Peter: "You poisoned Dad with the soup. Plus, you didn't really send me to find the Haitian. I had to hitch a ride on my brother's back and nearly got shot to prove I was useful."
Angela: "I don't think this is our actual dialogue, but as you may know, the Haitian can block Arthur's powers."
Peter: "Wow. Thanks for letting me know. I'd never have guessed he could do that after the time he blocked my own powers, wiped my memory and sent me to Ireland in a cargo container with nothing except my pants and my passport."
Angela: "It's all up to you."
Peter: "Why can't you do it?"
Angela: "There's no other way..."
Peter: "Look! There's Zach Quinto's name in the credits! I can't believe that popped up the exact moment you said there was no other w-"
*HAITIAN DEATH GRIP!*
Peter's hand pausing over the gun was a neat touch, as was Angela's barely-audible whisper when she recounts how she tried to kill the man she loved. Milo does a solid job with the furrowed brow and Cristine Rose reveals a layer of inner turmoil beneath the controlled exterior. But this is a transitional scene, and it doesn't seem like anyone -- the writers or the actors -- quite knows what to do with it. The last time Peter and Arthur met, Peter was furious with Arthur and spurring Sylar on to "kick his ass." The last time Angela and Arthur met inside a nightmare, Arthur tacitly acknowledged that he still loved Angela, and Angela seemed to have swayed Arthur. The shift in Peter and Angela's perspectives here was jarring: Peter's gone from "I've seen the future! Kick his ass! He's going to end the world!" to "Oh, but is he REALLY evil? Do I really have to KILL him? Angela's gone from "We were in love -- you're a vicious b*****d but I know a part of you still cares..." to "You're a monster! Die!"
Peter was angry at Arthur in "Eris Quod Sum," and Angela's feelings for Arthur were palpable in "It's Coming," and the way the resolution to this storyline was set up in this scene seemed to overlook parts of the arc that led up to it.
Nathan returns to the Helix Compound to tell Papa Petrelli he's taking over the business. The brief appearance by Flint and Knox was a nice nod to continuity, if only to remind us that they're still alive. As with Doyle and Danny in "The Eclipse, Part I," it's also a sad reminder that the show never did as much with these villains as we hoped it would, and that the actors' roles are more or less limited to standing in the background and looking menacing.
Tracy: "Your father sees the problems in this world -- war, terrorism. He wants to make it a better place."
And that might just be the most informative line we've gotten about the Daddy Villain's endgame since he was introduced. It might actually be the only informative line we've gotten. It sounds a lot like Candice telling Micah that Linderman wanted to "heal the world," the difference being that Linderman had four or five episodes -- and one phenomenal scene with Nathan at the Corinthian -- in which to set out a rationale for his drastic measures. Arthur never got that. He never got a scene to make his motives clear, or a moment to explain why he was so determined to finish The Formula and build his superpowered army. Robert Forster's performance as Arthur was exemplary, but you have to feel sorry for an actor whose insight into the character was limited by a chronic lack of workable material.
We cut to a pre-Canine-Central Casa Bennet, where Claire poses as a neighbor's niece and volunteers to be Sandra's new babysitter.
Too cute. I'll leave it to you to decide how ironic it is that Claire gets to fuss over herself, but the irony in no way undermines the cuteness.
Is that Sandra? She really does look like she's 16 years younger. Part of it might be the tone of her scenes; we've never really seen her outside the golden glow of Odessa and Costa Verde, and the blue New York hue brings a fresh novelty to the character's role this week. Part of it's also that Ashley Crow plays Sandra the way she played her at the start of Season One -- minus the dog obsession.
Sandra: "Noah's very busy at work ... Apparently, he's very good at what he does."
Brilliant dialogue, and brilliant delivery. You can hear a tinge of the pre-"Company Man" cluelessness, and her loneliness before Claire showed up.
Sylar visits one of the supers on Elle's list. We learn that she has the ability to detect lies, which is accompanied by a whoosh, a shake of the camera and a pinging sound in the background. The execution's a little cheap, but the ability itself is extremely cool. So cool, in fact, that you wonder how successfully the show will handle it. So much of the show's storyline involves deception or manipulation, and now that Sylar has the ability to detect those, it's going to be hard for any character to lie to him.
Not that you stop to think about that as this scene plays out, because it's so morbidly amusing -- from Sylar's delivery uniform to the excited smile he gets when he asks if the ability "tingles" -- that it's hard to find fault with it or wonder how the show will get around it.
Sylar promises that stealing Sue's ability won't hurt a bit ...
... then admits that he lied ...
... and that it's going to hurt a lot.
It's as hilarious as it is scary, mostly because the horror's undercut with humor, and because Zach -- like David Anders earlier in the season -- brings terrific comic timing to his scenes.
Sylar: "I almost forgot how good this feels."
So did we. For all the complaints about how dull Sylar's character arc will be if he's limited to this, watching him fall back on a straightforward "want-power/take-power" impulse is oddly appealing. You know there are no ramifications: no guilt, and no attempts to rationalize the kill or foist the blame onto side-effects of a root ability. This is Sylar: a villain who taunts and terrorizes victims, and who enjoys inflicting pain while he gains an ability that makes him "special."
"Cake?"
Line of the night. It's funny for Zach's "Oh, you shouldn't have!" delivery, but also because it taps into the chasm between normality and fantasy.
Lair of the Nerds! We get an establishing shot of Daphne speedyzipping two people along with herself -- one of whom (and I say this with the greatest respect for Grunberg) is Matt. I now have a renewed respect for both Daphne and her ability, because someone as petite as Daphne pulling a guy as big as Matt can't be a small feat.
Matt actually apologizes to Nerdeo's Boss for mind-reading him. Surprising and admirable. You'd expect Matt to Parkman-whammy people left and right as he became more adept at it, but the fact that he stops at mind-reading and even feels bad about it is a nice sign of the character's growth and adjustment to his ability.
Helix Compound. Nathan pulls up a chair with Chad Faust. I'm not sure if this is an homage to The 4400 and a nod to both Kyle Baldwin and promicin, but the "similarities" are becoming alarmingly overt. Nathan warns Chad that this trial will "change [his] life in ways [he] can't possibly imagine -- forever." Chad has his reasons and recounts how he lost 10 comrades while stationed in Iraq. It's harrowing, but the appalling part is the way Nathan then plays on Chad's guilt and decides he's the guy to test the new version of The Formula on. By doing that, he's effectively renouncing his role as a hero on the show. I'm willing to bet that Chad will be dead before the end of the next episode, but even if he doesn't die, Nathan damns him by authorizing Mohinder to test the serum on him. Nathan condemns this guy to the same fate he suffered: the one where, if you're not plagued with scales and bug-slime or dissected by a covert organization, you're manipulated, exploited, pursued, isolated and left feeling like a freak. Nathan willingly inflicts this on an individual out of a sense of serving a greater good, and -- at least where Nathan's concerned -- that's what distinguishes this storyline from the bomb plot in Season One. Back then, Nathan was a tool. This time, he's the one calling the shots. It's sad to see the character become corrupt, but it makes for brilliant drama. It's consistent with the character we've seen, it dovetails with the character we saw in "I Am Become Death," and it's a chance for the show to work with the kind of complex moral ambiguity it should have been playing with throughout the volume. Well played, writers.
Sulu Penthouse. Hiro tries to cook breakfast for his mom. Aww. Papa Sulu laments that his son is "irresponsible." Mama Sulu tells him to "give him a chance." I love the vigorous nod Hiro gives when he hears that, and I have to say, I'm going to miss this version of the character. Masi used this storyline to capture everything that was entertaining about his character at the start of the show, and the writers wrote him with more courage, heart and initiative than they ever wrote Adult-Hiro.
Papa Sulu concludes that Hiro "will never amount to anything."
Aww.
Double aww. It's nothing new, but it never gets old, and it never fails to be adorable.
Casa Bennet. Claire warns BabyClaire about the perils of fifth-grade romance. Aww.
Then:
Hiro -- what have you done? You've brought Jack Coleman forward in time from his Dynasty days!
Noah interrogates Claire, and Claire's pretty much, "I'm ... uh ... Damn, Dad, what is your secret?" Well done, Heroes Make-Up Department.
Props to Coleman for the Company-groomed glare of suspicion. Props also for the way Noah barely looks at his daughter, and for the near-total lack of empathy he shows either BabyClaire or Sandra. You get a sense of how little he wants to let BabyClaire mean to him, and how little he trusts Sandra with the truth about how the baby ended up with them.
Noah stares at Claire with so much ferocity that you wonder if it's possible for his eyeballs to pop out of their sockets, sprout knives, slice their way down Claire's throat and rip out her entrails. Sandra nervously asks if this has "something to do with how [they] got the baby." Well done to the writers for at least addressing the issue: at least we know Sandra asked how a paper salesman ended up having a baby dropped in his lap; presumably, she didn't push too hard because she bonded with BabyClaire so quickly.
Claire articulates Noah's reluctance to care about an assignment that could be snatched away at any time.
Claire: "This little baby will be in your life for at least 16 more years, and many more -- hopefully -- after that."
Was I the only one whose ears pricked up at the hopefully?
Even BabyClaire gets an alarmed look at that part. Or maybe it's more, "Am I really going to become this melodramatic?"
Noah looks like the steely Company surface is cracking. Damn, even I'm kind of moved. Noah gets a call from Papa Sulu, Claire insists that his "ClaireBear" is fine the way she is, and then:
Aww.
Awwwww!
Claire will probably find she's messed the timeline up irrevocably with this stunt, but, damn, that was a moving scene. A little theatrical on Hayden's part, but very moving.
This would usually be the part where Ando grins over a bar of gold or Hiro gets a leg up to an air vent. In defiance of the trend this season, Hiro's next scene trumps the previous one by not only being even more emotionally draining, but also advancing the story and opening a door for Hiro's character arc that's as promising as Claire's.
Hiro prepares waffles, syrup and orange juice and tells his mom he doesn't know how to make Tamagoyaki. Damn, even that gets an aww out of me. This episode really is trying to turn me into an emotional wuss. Stop it, show!
Beeman mentions on his blog that he took the reins on these scenes, and looking at Masi's performance, you can tell. As with every Beeman-directed episode, there are nuances that the actor and director almost certainly came up with on the spot: Hiro's nervous shuffle with the tray, the deferential nods and half-bows he gives his mom while he's still pretending to be a chef, and the soothing voice he uses to greet his mom because he knows she's sick.
Mama Sulu immediately recognizes something familiar about Hiro. You could write that off as a necessity for the plot, but it also says something about Mama Sulu's perception and the bond between her and Hiro. The way Masi delivers the line about not even being sure how his ability works, you also realize how scared and confused the 10-year-old Hiro must have been, and how much he must have wanted to fall into his mom's arms from the moment he saw her.
Mama Sulu gushes about how proud she is to see her son grown up, then learns that he's a tabula rasa from the age of 10 and restores his memories.
She's so proud of him!
Mama Sulu: "I always knew you were meant for greatness."
Aww. Who cares if he bent the truth a little?
Hiro volunteers to become the next host for The Catalyst. I want to praise Hiro for his determination, but given that he lost his father's half of The Formula within seconds of unlocking it from the safe, I have to agree with Papa Sulu.
Mama Sulu disobeys Papa Sulu by agreeing to give Hiro The Catalyst. Between this, Sandra and Angela, I'm beginning to wonder if the show's trying to make some kind of statement about overbearing husbands and the smart-and-capable wives who stand up to assert their authority.
At this point, I kid you not:
Hiro's glasses are misting up. It's about the millionth aww of the episode, but it's so well deserved.
Cool effect. Nothing extravagant, but the warm glow's a nice contrast to Chad convulsing after he gets The Formula.
Mama Sulu dies, and I find myself wishing the show would find some way to bring her back -- Magik Blood, dream sequence, flashback, whatever -- because Tamlyn Tomita and Masi knocked this scene out of the park.
We cut to present-day New York and catch a glimpse of another world-split-in-half painting splashed across a building. I suddenly realize we've nearly reached the end of this volume without those ever being explained. This painting's so high up that it must have been painted by someone who can fly; and if it isn't someone who's clairvoyant, it's got to be someone who traveled back in time with several tins of paint. Maybe I'm overthinking this.
The Haitian: "To kill one's own father is a horrible thing."
Indeed. So horrible that you wonder why Angela gave this sucky assignment to Peter instead of undertaking it herself. I get that she's running Team Primatech and delegating field ops, and I get that this is probably a grim rite of passage for the wimpy son whose idea of rebellion was becoming a nurse. But we know Angela has no issues with killing Arthur. It would have made more sense for Angela to come along, and to supply the Haitian with his own gun as Plan B. Angela wins a *PING!* Dumb As Peter Award.
Sylar leaves the Office of Normality and steps into an elevator. There's probably a lot to analyze about this scene ...
... but the image says it all. That, and, "It does kind of tingle."
Lair of the Nerds. Nerdeo's Boss lets Matt, Daphne and Ando know that the sketchbook was found in a locker after Nerdeo was fired, and that "every fanboy in the city's been trying to grab it." Daphne opens the sketchbook, and the first page seems to be "Hiro Lost In Time." If Hiro and Claire were hiding in the greenhouse in the first edition of 9th Wonders and this is the first sketch in Isaac's sketchbook, the implication seems to be that Isaac painted events in near-chronological order, including events altered by people traveling back through time. Which is way too much of a continuity headache for me to contemplate, because it implies that Isaac's clairvoyance includes events that take place in the past, and events that have been altered by people knowing what happens because of clues they've found in Isaac's comics.
Rooftop of Pigeonly Delight. Hiro lets Claire know that he's taken the burden from Claire and that The Light is in him now. Astonishingly, Claire's not pleased to have gotten what she wanted:
^ ^ Furious!
Wasn't she trying to stop herself from getting The Catalyst? Shouldn't she be jumping for joy? IS THERE NO PLEASING HER?
Arthur shows up.
Wait, what?!
WHAT?!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!?
Did he just to decide to teleport to the day Claire was born and grab The Catalyst then and there? Did he sketch that he was going to meet Hiro and Claire on the Rooftop? Did he read a bunch of 9th Wonders comics and find the same clue that Breckin did last week? Did Peter absorb Molly's ability at Superhero Square, did Arthur get Molly's ability when he stole Peter's abilities, and does Molly's ability extend to finding people in different timeframes?
I'm going to go with the simplest one: he knew when Claire was adopted from her file, and he teleported to a couple of timeframes to establish where and when The Catalyst was transferred to her.
Arthur TK's Claire across the terrace. Hiro ... stands there and babbles about stopping Arthur and saving the cheerleader. OH. MY. GOD. It's started already? You know the 10-year-old version would have grabbed Claire and teleported out of there immediately.
Arthur absorbs Hiro's ability and The Catalyst, sadly proving Papa Sulu's suspicions about Hiro's inability to protect The Catalyst correct, and gets ...
... the maniacal gaze before TK'ing Hiro over the rooftop. And doesn't even check for a body. In theory, Hiro now has 16 years to climb from the flagpole to a window and plan how he's going to overthrow Arthur. He also has detailed knowledge about events leading up to Angela's first attempt to kill him, and who he needs to find to stop Arthur in the present. Arthur wins a *PING!* Dumb As Peter Award for failing to wipe Hiro's memories, snap his neck and Ted-nuke the corpse.
Arthur teleports back to the Helix Compound and transfers The Catalyst from himself to The Formula. Peter and the Haitian stroll through the Pinehearst lobby, apparently only meeting one incompetent guard on the way to the top-secret about-to-change-the-world-with-a-scientific-breakthrough lab. You'd think Arthur would have recruited better security for this building.
Arthur predicts that Peter doesn't have the nerve to kill him, and he's pretty much proven correct, which leads me to wonder whether -- on top of the statement about formidable wives defying their husbands -- the show's trying to make a deeper statement about sons inevitably disappointing their fathers. Looking back, I have to ask: shouldn't this volume have been titled "Families"?
The Haitian looks like he's about to barrel over from the exertion of blocking Arthur's abilities. Interesting detail, because it suggests the power involves a level of focus, and that there are different degrees to blocking abilities.
Peter finally gets the courage to kill his father. And, sure, it wasn't actually Peter who sent the bullet into Arthur's head, but he shot with the intent to kill his father, so it's close enough.
Incredibly well done. I love how you can still see the bullet spinning when it's frozen, and how the camera lingers on that shot and allows you take in the one moment when Arthur looks genuinely afraid.
Let me get this straight: Peter pulled the trigger, Arthur TK-slashed Peter across the face, Sylar froze the bullet and TK'd Arthur and Peter to the spot, and the Haitian regained his mojo and re-blocked Arthur but not Sylar.
It's elaborate, but not so much that it pulls you out of the intensity of the scene. Amazingly, the pause in the confrontation helps to make it even more intense, because at this point -- after half a season of flitting back and forth between allegiances -- you can't predict how Sylar's going to let it play out. You don't know if Sylar's going to let the bullet fall or ricochet it back to Peter.
The lie detector serves a purpose to the larger story arc. So the morbid humor contributed something to the main story as well as reestablishing Sylar's role as the central villain of the show. With hindsight, it reaffirms how carefully structured this episode was, and how every scene counted.
And *BAM!*, away goes the bullet, and down goes Arthur.
Goodbye, Arthur! You were a formidable villain, you were expertly portrayed, and you scared the heck out of me. We wish your character arc had been better realized, and we wish we could have known what your real motives were. You were a pivotal part of several main characters' lives, so we're sure to see you in many flashbacks and dream sequences.
I can't figure out if Peter's also hoping to see Arthur in many flashbacks and dream sequences. It looks like a lot of his issues have been resolved, and honestly, I'm kind of getting used to pretending that this whole Sylar Petrelli arc was something in an alternate reality, so it might be for the best if every part of this volume's story comes to an abrupt end.
Sylar tells Peter there's nothing Peter has that he wants. Well, sure, but the quiet dude behind him? Blocking your opponent's ability isn't something you'd be interested in? No? OK then ...
The Haitian pursues Sylar and leaves Peter to practice his furrowed brow. We cut to Nathan looking earnest in the lab. Chad's been injected with The Formula, finished convulsing and ripped a chair from its hinges. All of which look a lot cooler than when Mohinder did pretty much the same stuff 11 episodes ago. It's as if we've come full circle.
It's also as if this episode belonged to a different show, and in the best possible way. There were plotholes, but none of them too critical. There was little to no Angela and Mohinder's role was close to a non-speaking part, but everyone was here, everyone was in character, and -- surprisingly so far this season -- everything they did was consistent.
Will that last? Probably not. We've seen Claire experience something life-changing and grow up, only to turn bratty the following episode. We've seen Hiro experience loss and become wise beyond his years, only to end up sitting in his father's office feeling bored.
I want to believe that won't be the case this time, and that this is a starting point for the show to head in a new direction. With Arthur gone, all of the time-travelers either dead or powerless and the Pinehearst storyline looking like it's drawing to a close, the show has a chance to change and to build on the character arcs it developed in this episode. Claire gained a deeper understanding of her father; Hiro had a chance to say goodbye to his mother and to see his life through his mother's eyes; Sylar once again became a villain who delights in his own villainy and who's free of soap-opera baggage; Nathan's slowly becoming his father; and Peter managed to put the greater good ahead of his own feelings, even though he kind of biffed it.
How much of that will be relevant five episodes from now? If you're optimistic, all of it. If you're cynical, little to none of it.
Either way, does that undermine this episode? In no way. Even if it only works as a standalone episode or an alternative continuation of the show that created "Company Man" and "Cautionary Tales," this was a defining moment. This was on the same level as the show's previous highlights, and it's proof that Heroes is far from unsalvageable. The writing was exquisite, the storyline was heartfelt and amusing, and Hayden and Masi each delivered some of their finest performances on the show.
More of this, please!
5 out of 5]]>
... showcases Holly Dale's penchant for sweeping, cinematic angles. In this instance, the sprawling jungle helps to convey how isolated Peter and the Haitian are.
Peter and the Haitian pause for a theological debate about the eclipse and the silver lining now that Samedi lacks his impenetrable skin. The focus shifts onto Peter's mission to topple Arthur's empire, and his need to demonstrate he can be a hero without abilities. Peter all but admits that a sense of heroism matters more to him than stopping Arthur; and, sadly, the focus in this storyline remains almost completely on the Petrelli drama for the rest of the episode. There's almost no attempt to flesh out the bond -- or the conflict -- between the Haitian and Samedi. It's not like I wanted it to last all season, but it would have been nice to gain a little more insight into the Haitian's life and background with his brother.
Sandra brings Claire to Costa Verde Hospital. We learn that Claire's "whole system has been infected," indicating that she's never been sick before. In all fairness to Pokaski and Coleite, it's possible Claire's ability really does make it look like Claire's never been sick. If you wanted to nitpick, there's a touching scene early on in the first season in which Sandra recounts how Claire had a cough when she was a baby.
We cut to the Vortex Safe House, which needs to drop the "safe" part after gunshot wounds and coition occur on its premises. We learn that Noah squandered his opportunity to take a perfectly-aimed shot at Sylar and Elle, opting instead to spectate while Sylar and Elle ... you know:
I guess you could argue that Noah waited too long and lost sight of both of them. Or that Noah wanted to lull Sylar and Elle into a sense of security before bursting into the house and scaring the heck out of them. But the thought of Noah watching Sylar and Elle strip down and go at it? It's the immediate conclusion that jumps to mind, and it's as disturbing as it is disappointing. Noah had a clear shot at the end of the previous episode, so how Sylar and Elle got a chance to have sex while Noah waited across the street with a sniper rifle trained on them boils down to either voyeuristic proclivities or sheer incompetence. Either way, it's a *PING!* Dumb As Peter Award for Noah. Next time, Noah? Don't watch them have sex. Just shoot them.
All of this aside, the scene sets up Sylar and Elle's shared uncertainty over what they're going to do now that they're powerless. Perhaps more importantly, it also foreshadows the way Elle will end up a victim. You get a sense here that Elle cares about Sylar; not just because he helped her to channel her ability and accept the death of her father, but also because he was someone she could confide in. The dialogue does part of the work, but it's mostly the actors who convey that trust.
Noah gets tired of watching the post-coital rambling and starts shooting. He bursts through the door ...
... and I have to ask: is there really that much difference between that and this? Seriously, someone needs to start a petition: Jack Coleman for Bond. He totally gets my vote.
Beautifully shot. It's grandiose and atmospheric, and it creates enormous tension when you realize how close the killer is to his victims. The amazing part -- throughout this episode -- is it's hard to begrudge Noah for his bloodlust.
At the Helix Compound:
Is this some kind of bizarre psychological warfare? Are you trying to scare me, show?
Flint playing with the cigarette lighter was a nice detail. The flame's probably a source of comfort after losing an ability he'd become so accustomed to.
Mohinder tells Arthur he's "checked every imaginable connection" between the eclipse and the loss of everyone's abilities. Every imaginable connection? Within a few hours? My BS Detector sounded, but when I tried to research the stuff Mohinder theorized about -- eclipses, gravity and electron density -- all I got was a little pop-up message that said, "YOU IDIOT! THIS IS HEROES SCIENCE! IT'S NONSENSICAL! LET IT GO, OK? JUST LET IT GO!" So, at the start of "The Eclipse, Part I," we had no idea how or why the eclipse removed people's abilities. At the end of "The Eclipse, Part II," we still have no idea. It's a little disappointing. I'm tempted to say that even if the explanation had come down to pseudo-scientific babble, it would've been something.
Flint: "You keep talking, but all I hear is 'blah, blah, blah.'"
Line of the night. I love how Blake Shields snarls it out.
Backyard to the Vortex Unsafe House. Sandra calls Noah to tell him Claire's in critical condition at the hospital, and that the cops were alerted to the gunshot wound. Noah seems genuinely surprised by this news, so I'm wondering if he really didn't realize he was leaving Claire to die last week. If he did, he's feigning surprise now.
Noah: "Tell them what I would tell them."
Sandra: "You mean lie."
It's telling dialogue. Sandra's generally the one who defends Noah when Claire throws accusations at him, but here, you start to sense Sandra's misgivings about the way Noah deceives everyone around him.
The look Sandra gets when she realizes what Noah's asking her to do only supports that. I hope there's at least some fallout from this. Sandra has every right to blame Noah: for refusing to bring Claire to hospital sooner, for not being there when Claire died, and for hiding the reason why Team Pinehearst sent mercenaries after Claire in the first place.
Noah's decision to finish the hunt was an interesting moment for the character. You wouldn't think he'd put anything ahead of his family, but the implication is that he's so hellbent on avenging Claire that his rage outweighs his love. You could argue that Noah's goal-oriented Company streak overrides his compassion, and that he can't let go of a mission until he's completed it; but at the same time, it's surprisingly cold-hearted of Noah to put the apprehension of his daughter's shooters ahead of his daughter's life.
Speedster Farm. Daphne reveals she's wearing leg braces.
Matt: "What are those?"
Oh, Matt.
Brea Grant delivers another superb performance as Daphne recalls how she couldn't walk ...
... getting a fleeting smile of nostalgia as she remembers discovering her ability and leaving the leg braces behind.
Daphne describing herself as a "villain" and "nemesis" seemed carefully planted: it underscores how far the character has come since being introduced, and, perhaps alarmingly, it draws attention to the way Daphne's becoming a more compelling character than the one who labeled her a "nemesis" in the first place.
As with so many shots of the eclipse, both this week and last week, it's beautifully realized. Even if the science behind it falls flat, it's a visual treat.
Helix Compound. Mohinder prepares a serum of unknown properties.
Flint: "You really think I'm that kinda stupid, Doc?"
Outwitting Flint is hardly an achievement, but the deadpan raise of the eyebrows Mohinder gives when he says he really does think Flint's that stupid is priceless.
We cut to Sam's Comics, Kansas, which is where we meet the Robot Chicken guys. I know they're supposed to be named Sam and Frack in the story, but they're never named on screen, and, honestly, I have no idea which one is which. By their own admission, Seth Green and Breckin Meyer are essentially playing themselves in this episode, so I'm sticking with "Seth" and "Breckin."
Both actors do a solid job with their cameos. Breckin Meyer ...
... brings his innate charm and boyish goofiness to the role. Seth Green ...
... brings exactly what he brought to every scene on Buffy: an ability to exude confidence, warmth and charisma.
The problem is neither of these guys needed to be here. There's no function they serve in the plot that couldn't be served without them. Ando spends most of this episode translating back and forth between these guys and Hiro, and most of what Seth and Breckin come up with -- the theory on everyone's abilities returning, the speech about being a hero, the comic with Hiro and Claire hiding in the greenhouse -- could just as easily have come from Ando. It's more entertaining this way, but somehow both characters come across as extraneous.
Hiro's not thrilled about growing up and becoming a hero. We get a montage of 9th Wonders images depicting Hiro stabbing Sylar, Charlie at the Burnt Toast Diner, Hiro dueling with Kensei and Papa Sulu dying. It's an effective selection of images, and evidence that at least someone on the show realizes the impact these experiences should have had on Hiro. If the 10-year-old equivalent is affected by it, you have to wonder why the adult Hiro seems to have forgotten it all.
In the Haitian jungle, Nathan rambles to one of the Haitian girls about how there's no one to protect her. It feels slightly forced, like Pokaski and Coleite knew they needed to set up Nathan's decision to join Pinehearst and worked their way backwards to this scene. But part of it also rings true. It makes sense that, after losing his family, his admiration for his parents and his role as a congressman, Nathan's only pride would be his ability. It also stands to reason that Nathan's sense of powerlessness would drive his ambition even harder, and that feeling like a victim would make him lash out at his captors even more fiercely. Nathan sounds deranged when he later talks about giving the "right" people abilities, but the rationale behind his decision is established in a way that helps to make Nathan's eventual decision seem less out-of-character.
Peter and the Haitian show up to unchain Nathan and rescue the two captive girls. Peter resolves to "hold them off" while Nathan, the Haitian and one of the remaining girls escape into the jungle. My BS Detector was already ringing at this point because I couldn't figure out how one guy was going to stop an army. How long did Peter think he could "hold them off"? A minute? Two minutes? Was that really going to help Nathan and the Haitian escape -- on foot -- through the jungle? Peter's resolve is courageous, but it's also extremely dumb. Dumb As Peter, you might say. It's almost as hilarious as Peter's next line:
"You're a senator! You're important!"
Alternative versions of this line:
"I'm not a senator! I'm not as important!"
"I'm a nurse! I'm nowhere near as important!"
"You're a politician! You're not supposed to actually fight for anything you believe in!"
Nathan gets a look that seems to say ...
"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" Or maybe it's, "When did my brother become so brave?" It's hard to tell.
Somewhere near Costa Verde, Sylar and Elle take cover ...
... in a convenience store? It's jarring for the most appealing reason: because it's mundane. It makes sense that Sylar would seize the first chance to patch Elle up, staunch the wound and stop the blood trail, but the location jumps out at you because of its normality.
The way the next few scenes intercut between Claire's death and Sylar's is superbly done. The editing never disrupts the flow of the scenes; the way it turns out, Sandra's lack of support and Noah's ruthlessness play off one another and become even more vivid.
Should we wonder where Lyle was this week? I guess you could speculate his absence away with a dozen explanations, but it made me feel even worse for Sandra when she covered for Noah and accepted Claire's rebuke. No one seemed to care that Claire's brother was as guilty as their father for not being there.
Claire goes on a voyage of self-pity, calling herself a stupid teenager and lamenting how she used to wish her ability would go away. It's nothing we haven't seen before, from the time she tearfully asked Noah why he let Sandra get Haitian-whammied to the time she thought he was dead. But after several episodes in which Hayden played Claire as abrasively smug, it's oddly reassuring to see that Hayden ...
... is as adept at emotionally fraught scenes as ever. The performance is visceral, the emotions are raw; and, even knowing there's no way the character will die, it's hard to watch a scene like this without finding it affecting.
Claire flatlines. You know it doesn't mean a thing; you know Claire will pull through. But when Sandra lets out that hysterical shriek, it blunts our ability to think clearly. Ashley Crow carries the scene and evokes despair that's intense enough to override the whole "Nah, Claire will pull through" supposition.
Noah tracks Sylar to the storage warehouse behind the convenience store, and the scene in which Noah beats the bejesus out of Sylar intercuts with -- look away if you're eating --
-- Claire getting sliced open. Homage to the time she was on an autopsy table? It's eerily reminiscent and equally grotesque, but three seasons later, after seeing Claire's brain opened up on a coffee table, it lacks the same dramatic punch.
Noah beats Sylar into semi-consciousness, then discovers the box cutter. I have to praise Coleman for the way he plays this particular moment, because the expression Noah gets when he notices the box cutter ...
... is so clearly a "Hey, that's something I can use!" expression. It feels so spontaneous, you almost wonder whether Noah thought of it while the camera was rolling.
Noah brings the cutter to Sylar's throat ...
... and the context and performance are such that you feel invested in the character who's about to slit a guy's throat. You share Noah's satisfaction in killing the guy, but you also share Elle's horror while she watches it from the freight elevator. This is what I wish the entire volume could have focused on: conflicted characters, morally complex predicaments, and a storyline that divided the audience's sympathy.
Daphne's expression says it all.
The story about the scarecrow saving the field was nicely delivered. It gives an insight into the character's background and roots her in the real world (as opposed to a world of superpowered criminal activity), and it's heartwarming without becoming overtly nostalgic or sentimental.
Daphne jumping into Papa Millbrook's arms is equally heartwarming, but I wonder how much sense it would make without the context from the graphic novels. If you didn't know about Daphne saying she wished her dad had died instead of her mom, and if you didn't know about Daphne up and leaving as soon as she got her ability, would Daphne's need for forgiveness make any sense? I guess Papa Millbrook worrying that he drove Daphne away achieves something, but this reconciliation was the emotional resolution to the storyline at the farm. Without the backstory established in the graphic novels, you're left to speculate about what exactly Daphne needs forgiveness for.
In the Haitian jungle, Samedi's soldiers mobilize. Milo Ventimiglia fans have reason to squee with delight when Peter aims his rifle and does his best to resemble Rambo. Then he runs out of ammo and surrenders. As near as I can tell, this attempt to "hold them off" buys Nathan and the Haitian approximately 45 seconds. If they hadn't come back to rescue Peter, I'm struggling to understand how Peter thought this display of bravery would make a difference.
^ ^ The Haitian Death Grip!
I get that he can wipe memories and turn people into zombies, but what was that?
Nathan levitation-slams Samedi into the hood of a car. Nice effect, and nice way to demonstrate Samedi's invulnerability. Is this really how impenetrable skin works, though? Does impenetrable skin add up to impenetrable bones and internal organs? Because if it doesn't, you have to wonder why this ...
... doesn't cause massive internal injuries and kill Samedi before the Haitian gets anywhere near him.
Does the Haitian actually kill Samedi? It looks like it. Based on Nathan's mention of this as a "sacrifice," the implication is that, even if Samedi only got his memories wiped, he'll still be left a vegetable. I can't see the fraternal parallels extending this far, but the way Samedi appeals to the Haitian's brotherly love -- and the way the Haitian ignores his bond with Samedi in order to stop him -- seems to point the way to a storyline between Peter and Nathan in Volume Four.
Folks, I'm peering between my fingers, so forgive me if I miss anything here.
"Maya? It's me, Mohinder ... [Edited for time?] The guy who trapped you in a cocoon. So, uh ... wanna grab some coffee?"
I wonder why Maya needs "just a minute" before she answers the door. Was she checking her hair and make-up? Hiding some stud in the closet? Grabbing a cricket bat? Whichever it is, they're all in character.
Mohinder sees the scales on his wrist ... and, what, realizes that the absence of those scales wouldn't be enough to win her back?
Maya finally answers the door, calls Mohinder's name in an empty hall, and finds the note with her address. I'm trying to figure out the worst case scenario here: they're not really going to bring her back, are they? This was a one-off scene to highlight the life Mohinder forfeited because of the serum. Truth be told, I liked it that way. And I choose to believe there's no possible way that Maya will forgive Mohinder, decide he deserves another chance and come back to him. Let's not even go there.
Moving hastily on!
Sam's Comics. Seth delivers a speech about heroism, reciting every superhero maxim ever delivered by someone and somewhere else. You know Seth doesn't believe it for a second, and he barely finishes the speech before Breckin points out that Seth doesn't believe it. But apparently Hiro believes it, because he's either a gullible 10 year old or a true hero. The way this scene undercuts Seth's conviction, I'm leaning towards the first of those.
Breckin pulls out a magnifying glass and studies the first issue of 9th Wonders, then he and Seth debate whether two characters sharing a scene counts as meeting one another. Is this how the show sees us? I'd feign indignance, but it's an alarmingly accurate portrayal, so I can't really berate the writers for misrepresentation of their fanbase.
Cute. I can't help thinking it's already been done after Peter found himself in the same greenhouse at the end of Season One, but the thought of going back to that storyline is so appealing, and provided the twist doesn't wreck the storyline in the process, it's something to look forward to.
Sandra, presumably too furious to ask Noah whether the people who shot Claire will look for her at their home, brings Claire back to Canine Central. Noah, presumably assuming Elle bled to death and Sylar won't retroactively regenerate once his abilities return, doesn't think to take Claire to Primatech to protect her. And Claire, presumably traumatized by dying, contents herself with the latest Love-Noah/Hate-Noah/Forgive-Noah cycle. There's a lot of presuming going on here, but this scene establishes that Claire's ...
... definitely up to the Hating-Noah part, so forgiving him's probably right around the corner.
I can buy Claire hating her father for not being there to hold her hand and tell her it'll all be OK, but did we really need another scene where Claire accuses Noah of putting his work before her? Claire was there when Noah took a bullet and had his memory erased for her. She was there when he died trying to protect her. She was there when he gave up his freedom in exchange for his family's safety. And even if Claire's suffering from selective amnesia after flatlining, she admitted on several occasions that her father does what she wishes she could be doing: stopping superpowered villains and averting global disaster. So, all in all, I think I'm justified when I say, SHUT UP, CLAIRE!
Noah twigs that Claire regenerating after dying without her ability means Sylar's live and kicking, races down the stairs and demands to know where Sandra is. Again, poor Lyle.
Sylar and Elle show up, and Noah gets TK'd to a wall.
Noah: "You're following Daddy's orders, now? Trying to be a good boy?"
Sylar: "Not a good boy, not exactly. Something else, something like ... like you. Home, family, but not afraid to do the job I have to do."
Great dialogue. It's funny for the mildly insulted look Noah gets when he realizes Sylar wants to emulate him, but it also dovetails quite elegantly with Sylar naming his son after the man he admires.
Sylar TK-chokes Noah. Claire agrees to leave with Sylar and Elle if they'll leave her parents alone. Sylar looks like he's going to kill Noah anyway. And Noah comes out with the revelation that Angela and Arthur aren't Sylar's parents.
Just writing it sends a shudder down my spine. The expression "WTF?!" doesn't begin to adequately capture my reaction to this.
I want to believe that Noah was desperate; that he was thinking on his feet and messing with Sylar to buy some time. But then, Elle's expression when he comes out with this line ...
... isn't so much "Oh, please!" as it is "OH, S**T! HE'S REALLY GOING TO TELL HIM?!"
Noah: "They're manipulating you; Arthur, Angela. I've read your files, Gabriel. You're not their son. They're just leveraging your mommy issues to turn you into their weapon."
So, to recap:
We've spent half of Season Three adjusting to the appalling idea that the villain and the hero are brothers, and now it turns out it was all a hoax?
Angela and Arthur, who have barely communicated over the past year, both decided to spin what's more or less the same story (give or take the circumstances surrounding Sylar's birth and adoption), and now it turns out it was all a ploy?
The show went to exorbitant lengths to establish visual, thematic and conceptual ties between the family members -- from physical attributes to key traits and abilities -- and now it turns out it was all one giant coincidence?
Seriously, Heroes, ARE YOU KIDDING US?!
I hated Sylar turning out to be a Petrelli, but this? This is worse. This is taking a storyline that turned everything on its head and AGAIN turning it on its head. It's essentially telling us that Sylar's heritage, the central storyline of the season -- above and beyond The Formula or Arthur's plan to build a superpowered army -- was just an elaborate fake-out. At this point, I'll take Sylar being a Petrelli. However questionable it may be, it's preferable to the whole storyline turning out to be a ploy.
Noah points out that Sylar killed Elle's father, and Sylar gives Elle a look ...
... that seems to foreshadow his decision to give up on his humanity. It's not so much regret as realization; as if he realizes he doesn't deserve Elle's forgiveness and he doesn't deserve to be loved. It doesn't make Sylar's transition over the course of the season any more consistent, but it serves as the moment he realized that his dream of a happy life with Elle wasn't going to happen.
Hiro teleports in, teleports Sylar and Elle out, then returns to teleport Claire to the Rooftop of Pigeonly Delight 16 years earlier. It's probably the single most awesome display of abilities we've seen Hiro demonstrate. Between this and his distress over what's happened to Adult-Hiro over the past year, I'm inclined to hope Hiro keeps his 10-year-old mentality. He's more self-aware, he's more heroic, and he's infinitely more competent.
Sam's Comics. Seth tells Ando, Matt and Daphne that "the well is dry." No more 9th Wonders. No more prophetic comics. "This is it," you think. "Goodbye, Meester Eeezuk. This plot device has finally come to an end."
Except ...
Oh, come on. YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING US!
In the Haitian jungle, Nathan praises the way Peter's decisions "always came from [his] heart." It seems like Nathan's underhanded way of telling Peter he makes dumb decisions, but I love how Peter's all, "Aww, bro, you're too kind," and how Nathan's like, "Oh, yeah, by the way? I'm totally ditching Mom's team and heading over to Dad's. Good luck stopping us!"
And Peter's reaction is just ...
"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?"
But the best part?
The Petrelli Hands of Manipulation!
Nathan decries Samedi's tyranny, extols the Haitian's ability to stop him, and decides the prospect of superpowered megalomania, corruption and greed isn't enough of a reason to ignore Team Pinehearst's ideology. Because if the ~*idea*~ is sound, the risks are worth taking. Nathan gets the crazy eyes, so the show pretty much guides you to the conclusion it wants you to draw when Nathan talks about the "right" people being granted abilities. It's largely to the show's credit, however, that it decided to move past soap-opera drama and address the global ramifications of people having abilities. It brings the story full circle. It takes us back to Mohinder and Peter's conversation in "Collision" about abilities representing a natural response to environmental factors; it takes us back to Nathan and Peter's conversation about the potential for people to do good with their abilities in "Nothing to Hide." And, sure, it's a sign of a show's delusional self-importance when characters in a fictional world talk about resolving crises in the real world; but provided the show avoids taking a political stance, this development has the potential to bring contemporary relevance to the story. If nothing else, it's an opportunity to get away from waffles, spitballs and prophetic comics.
We reach the scene this episode will be remembered for. Sylar and Elle pop up on a deserted beach, Elle unconvincingly tries to placate Sylar after the scene at Canine Central, and Sylar decides that slicing Elle's head open is the surest way to find out whether she's telling the truth. Or maybe he slices Elle open for the hell of it. I'm not sure.
Elle flinching when Sylar tries to brush away a strand of her hair was a nice touch. I'd love to know if it was in the script -- "Elle acts jumpy before Sylar kills her" -- or whether someone came up with that on the spot. It says a lot about the broken trust between the characters, so I choose to believe it was planned.
Sylar: "I've been thinking ..."
Elle: "About what?"
Sylar: "About what you said; about us finding ourselves free of parents or powers."
Come on, writers: I appreciate that you might not have the time to check when Nathan first flew or when the invisible man stopped tackling people in alleys for The Company, but this dialogue was in this episode -- and it was Sylar's dialogue, not Elle's.
Sylar: "Nobody ever really changes."
Elle: "You did. I saw you ... [Edited for time?] Even after I goaded you into killing a car rental employee."
Sylar gets in a line about him and Elle being "damaged goods," and at this point, you can just about buy why Elle wouldn't struggle as Sylar slices her head open. Between hooking up with the guy who killed her father, losing all sense of purpose and realizing that she created a mass murderer, the implication seems to be that Elle had given up.
The editing could have been better; you can see what the show was trying to achieve by cutting away and leaving the horror unseen, but an obsessive portion of the fanbase is now living in denial because we didn't see Sylar finish slicing Elle's head open.
Goodbye, Elle. You were inconsistently written, but a lot of us loved you. We hope to see you in many flashbacks and dream sequences. We also hope that somehow L'il Noah turns out to be yours, even though we can't fathom the grotesque depths the show will plunge to in order to make it happen.
Was I sorry to see Elle written out? Yes. And that's proof that the character thrived and developed, because when she was introduced, I really couldn't stand her. Perhaps that's a good sign, and perhaps that's the way it should be when any character is written out. An outcry from fans who vow never to watch the show again is oddly preferable to viewers celebrating the departure of a character who no one could stand. The fact that the show killed off a popular character with an abundance of story potential restores a sense of peril to the show. It underscores the fact that almost no one is safe -- regardless of their popularity -- and that, no matter how convoluted this volume might become, the central villain's capacity for evil has in no way been undermined.
Could it have been executed better? Probably. Elle's despondent resignation on the beach made sense, but a character defined by her spark and energy deserved a dramatic send-off, and Elle's final scene felt as damp as the sand on the beach where it happened. But then, the fact that the show was willing to kill her off at all speaks in its favor, and suggests that perhaps the show is willing to strap on a set of balls, take risks and challenge our expectations every now and then.
This episode was a mixed bag, but it restored the sense of peril which previous episodes lacked. It resolved the eclipse storyline with only moderate success, but it also set up several storylines that are likely to resonate throughout Volume Four. We had several entertaining scenes at Sam's Comics, Hiro demonstrating surprising resourcefulness, Ashley Crow perfectly capturing her performance as the distraught mother, Nathan emerging as a potential new villain, and a charmingly written and performed scene between Matt and Daphne.
Despite several minor issues, it's a vast improvement on last week.
3.5 out of 5]]>
... but instead lets the remark roll off her out of sensitivity to the guy she cares about.
^ ^ Expression of Crafty Scheming? It seems like Sylar's genuinely trying to be a dependable son and make his father proud. But then, the assumption that Sylar's trying to become his father's son blows all previous theories about Sylar double-crossing Arthur out of the water. You could justify Sylar's unwillingness to confide in Elle if he doesn't want to reveal he's playing Arthur out of loyalty to Angela; but if Sylar's not playing Arthur, and if he's serious about becoming the model Pinehearst son, the moment he defected to Team Pinehearst suddenly seems a lot less plausible.
Arthur assigns Sylar to retrieve Claire, and Elle's reaction to Sylar going all "Yessirrightawaysirconsideritdonesir" is:
Shock? Panic? Conflicted loyalties? It could be that this look conveys Elle's sense of camaraderie after Claire tried to help her, but it could just as easily be distaste for Sylar's blind obedience. Looking back, it doesn't seem like Elle intended to change her plan at the last minute and help Claire; but then, if Sylar isn't double-crossing Arthur to help Angela, and if Elle isn't double-crossing Arthur and Sylar to help Claire, this scene lacks any complexity or nuance, and the furtive glances between the characters end up meaning nothing. You can read a meaning into them, but when the episode seems to thwart that effort, you almost wonder why you tried.
Angela and Claire stride through Primatech. The expo-dialogue is brief, and we learn that Team Primatech has been divided into separate assignments. Hilariously, Angela doesn't seem to have assigned Peter with anything vital.
Nathan jumps into his assignment and puts aside his hostility towards his mom after learning that she used him as a lab rat. You could speculate that Nathan would put aside his reservations to stop his maniacal dad from splitting the world in half, but Nathan discovering he was genetically altered by his parents, telling Angela to go to hell and then putting that behind him is a jump, and it seems like the show expects us to either accept it or ignore it. Just as we needed a scene to establish Elle's reluctance to betray Claire, we needed a scene to establish why Nathan would overcome his contempt for Angela and agree to help her. Because otherwise, leaps in the plot make the characters look inconsistent.
The cameos from Doyle and Metal-Arm Danny were a nice nod to continuity, but they also remind you what could have been. Doyle's look of crazy fascination at Claire reminds you what a great villain he was, and Noah returning Danny to a cell reminds you how disappointing it was for the partnership between Noah and Meredith to collapse in a graphic novel instead of on-screen. When the episode brings up missed opportunities like this and cuts to 10-year-old Hiro doing the Pee Dance and Mohinder cocooning himself, you can't help wondering if the emphasis is in the right place.
Peter insists that Nathan can't go to Haiti alone because it's "too dangerous." His apprehension, we learn, is because of a Level 5 inmate with the alias "Baron Samedi," who apparently headed straight for Haiti as soon as he escaped from The Basement. The fact that he didn't waste any time with bank heists, revenge or family drama immediately makes me like him.
Peter: "When I found my abilities, I knew who I was supposed to be."
^ ^ Actual dialogue!
^ ^ Delivered with a straight face!
Who was he supposed to be? The guy who explodes? The cad who leaves his girlfriend in the future? The tool who helps a maniac wipe out mankind? The outlaw who shoots his brother to alter history? The psycho who threatens to slice open his mom's head?
We could keep going, but the point of this scene is to emphasize that Peter's abilities helped him discover who he is, even though "who he is" never really became clear. Nathan, being an awesome brother, reassures Peter that he still has a purpose without his abilities. Peter isn't so sure, especially if he can't guilt Nathan into helping him find a purpose by letting him tag along to Haiti. Which is prefaced with much Petrelli Brotherly Bonding, but also raises the same question that's been raised on several occasions: would the characters achieve more by doing nothing? Would Nathan be better off if Peter didn't choose this as his chance to be "useful"? Would Mohinder be better off if he didn't decide to inject himself with an untested serum? Would the world be better off if Hiro wasn't bored and in need of a reason to save it? From that standpoint, in the interests of avoiding global chaos, Angela's Do Nothing assignment is the best option all around.
Helix Compound. Mohinder carves up the guy he was last week forced to euthanize, inadvertently removes scales at the same time as surgical gloves, and demands that Arthur cure him. Arthur resists the impulse to TK-snap Mohinder's neck, pointing out that something is going to happen today. This is another moment when it felt like something was missing. It goes without saying that Arthur would have seen plenty of eclipses over the years. When Arthur asks Mohinder, "WHAT. DOES. IT. MEAN?", you could speculate that he witnessed different effects from different eclipses and just doesn't know what to expect this time. The problem is it isn't clear that Arthur's witnessed an eclipse before. He latches onto Mohinder's theory that everyone's abilities manifested during the last eclipse, but since we know that's garbage because plenty of supers were using their abilities long before that, we're stuck speculating.
So, on the one hand, the disappointment stems from the fact that the superpowered villain -- the guy who's been steeped in superpowered activity for 30 years -- apparently has no clue what effect an eclipse will have on the superpowered population. On the other hand, the disappointment stems from an episode which is entitled "The Eclipse," which involves an eclipse, and which, bizarrely, fails to explain anything about the eclipse. I know, it's only the first part of a two-parter. But come on: even if the show doesn't want to immediately enlighten us about a key part of its mythology, you'd figure the characters who possess abilities and who've seen eclipses before would offer at least some input on the effect it'll have.
Arthur: "'Everything could change today ...' No. Dammit! That's not it! It needs to sound momentous. How about, 'Everything's going to change today?'"
Mohinder: "Damn straight: if The Catalyst dies, I'm @%*#ed!"
Arthur: "Yes, but Mohinder, without The Catalyst and my plan to create superpowered humans everywhere, the world will split in half."
Mohinder: "All I want is to save myself! I'm a scientist, but right now I really couldn't give a rat's ass about you or the world. If Claire dies, any hope of me being cured dies too. So drop everything and help meeeeeeeee!"
Arthur: "Very good. Very expressive. I look forward to our next scene."
Chandra's Crib. Daphne asks how Hiro ties in with The Formula. Does she remember stealing half a formula from Papa Sulu's safe? Because even if she didn't know what she was stealing, she must have at least known to look for a shred of paper with chemical diagrams on it, and she knows that Papa Sulu was Hiro's father. I can't figure out if this was bad dialogue, bad continuity or a bad memory on Daphne's part. Or a Haitian Whammy.
Daphne wonders why Matt keeps her around. "Because I'm going to get laid" isn't an acceptable explanation, so Matt tells Daphne she's "one of the good guys now." Given that he's seen her working for the enemy and involved in the death of a four-year-old boy in the future, I have to question that optimism. Matt's pause before telling Daphne he trusts her completely comes back to haunt him, but who can blame him? He barely knows Daphne, he's seen more of her in spirit walks and nightmare realms than in the real world, and she reminds him in this scene that she betrayed him. I can understand Daphne freaking out and wondering if she rushed into a relationship with a guy she barely knows, but berating Matt because he's not sure if he completely trusts a woman he's only just met and who admits she's a liar in the same scene? Matt gets my sympathy.
Ando shows up and says Matt needs to "fix" Hiro. He supports this decision with a copy of the 9th Wonders comic in which Ando tells Matt he needs to "fix" Hiro. So, let me get this straight: Hiro and Ando have a comic that dictates their actions like stage directions: all they need to do is act out what's in the comic. And yet, somehow, everyone's unsure about what to do next ... except Hiro, who actually reads the step-by-step guide.
Matt reads Hiro's mind and gets ...
... delightful subtitles!
Despite any reservations I have with Hiro's character arc (or lack thereof), props to Masi Oka for the way he's throwing himself into this thankless role. The guy does a terrific job of becoming a wide-eyed kid, making every mannerism more clueless and neurotic.
Daphne wonders why Ando didn't die. Nice nod to continuity.
Hiro bobs his head along with the turtle. It's cute, but we went from Charlie getting scalped and Papa Sulu getting pulled over a rooftop to this? This is what two and a half seasons have come to?
Daphne bails. Matt tries to dissuade her, and, to be fair, Daphne's assertion that Matt doesn't know what she's "been through" seems as insensitive as Sylar telling Elle she wouldn't understand proving oneself to a parent. Between his ex-wife's affair, getting shot, the revelation that his dad's alive and evil, the revelation that his dad's dead and then getting banished to Africa, I'd say Matt's seen and experienced his share of horrors.
Hotspur! The company that Hiro and Ando used for the Versa in "One Giant Leap," and the company that Peter, Claire and RadioTed went to for an escape vehicle in "Landslide." Again, good continuity. I have to wonder how the show comes up with stuff like this and then, in the same episode, seems to forget when Nathan first flew.
Sylar learns from Arthur that Claire's with Noah. This, coupled with Sylar's ability to understand Noah and "how he thinks," leads Sylar and Elle to the Vortex Safe House. Really? Really, show?
Elle groans at the prospect of an encounter with "Glasses Himself." I'd harp on about the way Noah saved her life by trapping Sylar in a cell when he was scalp-happy in "The Butterfly Effect," but, hey: (1) "Glasses Himself," and (2) Kristen's roll of the tongue when she says "Uuurrrgh." I don't care what the show does with her, Elle has never not been awesome this season.
Sylar's willingness to become a model son and Pinehearst stooge concerns Elle. You could argue that, with her father dead and years of regimented routines and procedures behind her, she's enjoying the sense of liberty to use her ability as recklessly as she wants. But then, I'm not sure how Elle would want Sylar to behave any differently.
Sylar tells Elle he's trying to be "responsible," and Elle punches the air and gives this little sneer as she repeats the word back to him. Again, awesome performance from Kristen. Elle then reveals that she told the rental car employee that Sylar's a serial killer who kidnapped her, and the look of delight she gets when she recounts it ...
... is beyond awesome. It's a world away from the complex conscience-stricken agent in "Villains" and the vengeful daughter in "It's Coming," but it's so funny that I almost don't care.
Sylar doesn't find it as funny as I do, and there is a serious dimension to the scene because it raises several questions about the way Elle's being written. The transition from sane-and-stable agent to sociopathic sex kitten to neglected daughter still doesn't make sense, but there's a hint of Elle's playful nature here which recalls the character she played in Season Two. It could be a coincidence, or it could indicate that Elle's method of rebelling against authority involves channelling the more childish part of her personality. Between Bob's role at Primatech NY last season and Elle's recruitment into another organization this season, you could speculate that Elle's bouts of craziness are a reaction to the pressure of adhering to regulations.
Or Elle wanted to turn Sylar back into a killer and felt like doing something silly. You decide.
"I hate heroes."
Or is it, "I hate Heroes"? They're either acknowledging that Sylar's redemption arc failed, or that the characters hate their own show. Either way, I'm inclined to take it as self-parody.
Noah brings Claire to the Vortex Safe House. It's either good continuity or a cheap re-use of an old set.
How much does Noah know at this point? Does he know Claire accompanied Elle to Pinehearst? Does he know about Pinehearst? Does he know Arthur's alive? Does he know Sylar defected to Team Pinehearst to be with his dad? I guess none of it's essential to the story, but when Noah says he's trying to protect Claire, we wonder whether he realizes what he's protecting her from.
Noah tells Claire she's being stupid and careless and behaving as if she has a "license to act like a brat." Good dialogue, and a reminder of why Noah's absence has been missed so much throughout this volume, because he voices exactly what's been on our mind since the start of the season.
Midas Study. Tracy wins a *PING!* Dumb As Peter Award for taking a seat in Angela's chair and fingering her photo of the Petrellis WHILE SECRETLY ON THE PHONE TO ARTHUR. It's in Tracy's nature to manipulate and backstab. You would have thought she'd be more discreet when it comes to reporting to the enemy.
The reference to the Parris Island facility was an interesting detail. Future-Nathan was lobbying to create a superpowered army in "I Am Become Death," but the implication seems to be that Arthur's looking to pull it off several years in advance. Again, it seems like a part of the plot that needed to be fleshed out: we don't know how this fits in with Arthur's larger plans, who he expects his army to be fighting in the "war" he's anticipating, or how he thinks this will stop the planet from splitting in half. There's suspenseful and intriguing, and then there's underdeveloped and exasperating.
Angela overhears Tracy's half of the conversation, and apparently now knows enough to call the Marine Corps Recruit Depot and warn them about a slimy, scaly, monologue-spouting bug-dude who'll pull up to their base and try to peddle injections. It's also worth noting that Angela doesn't immediately call Tracy on her betrayal, but instead seems to reconcile this with her nightmare of at least one of Ali Larter's personalities turning evil.
Chandra's Crib. Am I the only one who wonders how it falls to a 10 year old to read a prophetic comic while the adults in the scene pace back and forth and wonder what to do next?
Hiro teleports Matt, Ando and himself to Daphne's farm in Lawrence, Kansas. There's no chyron to help us, but it's established in the dialogue, and it's impossible to mistake the location based on the geographical accuracy:
Kansas has mountains!
Whatever, show.
The eclipse was beautifully shot. And even though the effect of the eclipse hasn't been explained, and it's absurd that people can see it in Kansas and Haiti at the same time, and the eclipse lasts a lot longer than it should, and it's a b**ch to screencap because everything's so dark ... it is well executed.
The entire montage coming after it was nicely done, but two moments stuck out as remarkable: Arthur sweeping his sketches off the table with frustration -- which, except for his agitation when he was poisoned, is the only time we've seen him even slightly rattled; and Elle and Sylar swiping a convertible from the Hotspur parking lot -- which is kind of cool in itself, but worth noting for the reflection of the eclipse in the windshield, which should earn the visual effects team a bouquet.
In the Midas Study, Angela goes back to scrutinizing the Petrelli family photo, and the symbolism when the eclipse covers half of it up ...
... speaks -- or rather screams -- for itself.
Nathan loses his flight over Haiti, and he and Peter come crashing down in a lake.
Peter: "Wasn't there an eclipse that first day you flew?"
Nathan: "Yeah."
I guess you could argue that catching Peter when he jumped off the rooftop was the first time Peter saw Nathan fly, or that it's the first time Nathan intentionally flew. But the way this was worded, it's as if the show forgot how Nathan launched out of his car when Linderman's goons tried to ram him, and it's a plothole that pulls viewers who remember the backstory out of the narrative, because they now spend the rest of the scene halfheartedly trying to think up an explanation.
The brothers launch into the strongest scene of the episode, with Nathan chastising Peter for being a helpless wimp and Peter writing Nathan off as a tool for their dad. It's a confrontation which thrives on the way it draws elements from the show's backstory, but which, more importantly, involves the characters saying what they think. It resonates because you can appreciate why both of them would be angry at the other.
Peter effectively tells Nathan he'll become evil in the future, which seems like a deductive leap if he's basing that on the future he saw in "I Am Become Death," especially when -- paradoxically -- Peter was the one slicing Nathan's head open. The fact that Nathan becomes president and seems to run Pinehearst doesn't necessarily make him evil, even if he didn't seem fazed by the sight of Future-Claire hacking into Present-Peter or the sight of his dead brother on a gurney in front of him. In any case, Nathan takes this news surprisingly well, dismissing potential futures with the resolution to do the best he can in the present. Which might make Nathan an idealistic fool, but somehow, to me, Nathan's sincerity ends up making him noble and Peter even more of a judgmental d*%k for doubting his brother's integrity.
Speedster Farm. Papa Millbrook turns out to be Ray Baker, which is all kinds of awesome, not least because he uses a handful of scenes to establish the character as a warm-hearted but slightly old-fashioned dad.
Matt attempting to Parkman-whammy his way past Papa Millbrook is hilarious, for the way it confuses Daphne's father and for the way it makes Matt look like an idiot. But on some level, it takes you back to the way Matt used his mind-reading to trick Janice. He's apparently still such an upstanding guy that, if the love of his life doesn't want to see him, he's willing to use coercion to bypass her father and ignore her wish. It's not a big deal in the scene, and it might just be me, but somehow it seemed disrespectful towards Daphne's father to be falling back on the Parkman Whammy within a minute of meeting him. I would have preferred to see him introduce himself, explain why he'd come to see Daphne, and try to convince the guy to let Matt see Daphne without his ability.
Brea Grant plays all of her scenes on the farm with subtlety, but the way Daphne hugs her legs in this scene -- because she's feeling vulnerable and insecure, but also because she knows she's about to lose control over her legs -- was a particularly neat detail.
Vortex Safe House. Claire continues bashing wood against the walls, then channels Badass Future-Claire when she reveals that nothing ever made her angrier than Daddy Bennet leaving her to go on business trips. Her anger's sufficient to trip Noah up and put him on the receiving end of a sharper plank of wood, and Noah's expression in that moment ...
... demonstrates why Jack Coleman is one of the most dynamic actors on the show. I could be wrong, but it looks like he's afraid of the animal he released. Another shade of the expression looks like guilt, probably because he realizes how he hurt Claire and how he's forcing her to dredge up that pain, but perhaps also because he realizes he's turning his daughter into the character we've seen her become several years down the line.
Elle and Sylar show up. I'm sorry, but I still call BS on the likelihood of them tracking Claire and Noah to this location. Anyway, Elle twigs that her EllectroBolts aren't working, Sylar gets to look as dumb as Matt by waving his fingers in the air and wondering why nothing happens, and Noah gets to beat the life out of Sylar.
It's morbidly satisfying to watch Noah beat on the guy who terrorized his daughter, but, at the same time, that twisted pleasure never extends to uncertainty over whether Noah will actually kill Sylar, and it's part of what undermines the horror of the scene. Noah gets an opportunity to make good on his promise to kill Sylar, so you have to wonder why he wastes so much time knocking the life out of the guy instead of snapping his neck right away. The inevitable conclusion is that it's not because Elle gets in the way and shoots Claire, but because the show can't bear to let Noah make good on his vow to kill Sylar.
Elle moves to shoot Noah, and Claire gets inbetween them. The scene plays out with such earnestness that you know it's intended to be a Very Serious Moment. Noah hits Elle so hard that it actually makes me wince. It reinforces how Noah doesn't have any issue resorting to violence and kicking everyone's ass, but also how ferociously he'll lash out when he needs to protect his daughter.
Was the slo-mo too much? I'd say no. Even the ominous percussion and discordant strings don't feel too overplayed. The focus seems to be more on Noah's panic that Claire isn't immediately healing than on the prospect of Claire dying. Which helps, because, as with Noah hypothetically killing Sylar, Claire dying feels like a non-issue.
Noah brings Claire home, Sandra freaks out, and Noah forbids her to call the hospital for fear of alerting the cops. I guess Noah doesn't want to draw attention to Claire's injury if she's suddenly going to regain her ability and regenerate, but this eclipse -- besides covering everyone and everything at the same time -- seems to last for a length of time defying all laws of the universe, so Noah's assumption that Claire will inevitably instaheal back to health seems like an error in judgment, and that's before we know he's lying about the seriousness of Claire's wound.
Nicely played by Hayden. You see and feel her pain, but also her delight in getting to feel that pain, and her regret when she tells her dad she was wrong to think she was invulnerable. If you're optimistic, it's a moment that unlocks potential for change: the experience could broaden the character's perspective, and it could set up why Claire stops trusting anyone after her father lets her bleed out instead of calling an ambulance. If you're cynical, it's another instance that'll be forgotten the next time we hop on the Love-Noah/Hate-Noah/Forgive-Noah merry-go-round.
Speedster Farm. Matt asks Hiro how he's supposed to get his abilities back. I find it telling that Matt's calling on a 10 year old for advice on winning the love of his life, but it also underscores why Hiro's the smartest person in this storyline for actually bothering to read the 9th Wonders comic.
Matt admits he never thought he'd miss his ability. It's an interesting admission, but was Matt the right choice for the dialogue? He's been comfortable with his ability since the end of the first season; he adapted to it and uses it on a regular basis to get what he wants. The prospect of a character enjoying a respite from their ability is covered by Sylar in the final scene of the episode, and it might have streamlined the episode to limit this dialogue to one of them instead of both.
Hiro throws corn at Matt and urges him to win Daphne back by following the Hero's Quest and triumphing without his powers. Then:
Which is as limited in its humor as anything else in this story thread, but it's made adorable by Hiro's deferential bow and the way Matt glowers over him.
The current comic reaches its last page, but there is, of course, another issue. Isaac's contribution to comic-book lore -- and to this show -- has no limits.
Hiro references the Greek oracle at Delphi, the Library of Alexandria and the Hall of Justice. To Hiro's credit, he doesn't need Wiki for this, and, perhaps alarmingly, he comes across as a lot more intelligent as a 10 year old than he does as his mid-twenties counterpart.
Helix Compound. Mohinder's scales and psychosis disappear, and he's back to his old, pre-Season Three self. You're thinking it must be some kind of miracle for the character -- and for us. But then ...
Oh, CRAP! No, show, NO! Don't even think about it!
Oh God, SHE'S IN NEW JERSEY. So the show can dangle this threat over our heads anytime it wants? What's it going to take? Bribery, petitions, more viewers jumping ship?
Arthur and Flint show up. I've never been happier to see either of them. Arthur instructs Mohinder to park his ass back down and figure out a way to bring everyone's abilities back. I'd point out that locking Mohinder in his lab and forcing him to figure out how to reverse an astronomical phenomenon would take Mohinder a loooooong time, so long he'd never have a chance to head over to New Jersey to visit Ma-... Ohhh, I see! Clever, Arthur. Very clever.
The Haitian shows up in the jungle and starts leading Nathan and Petrelli back to their village, and then we meet Baron Samedi. Baron Samedi makes the Haitian look like a shrimp. His voice is so deep that I wonder if the ground rumbles when he talks. He makes Arthur look decrepit. He makes Sylar, Adam and Maury look like sissies. Seriously, folks:
This guy? ... scares me. And even if he didn't have that whole "impenetrable skin" thing, I can't figure out why he'd ever take orders from Arthur. Even with Arthur's TK-snapping and coercion and civilized menace, he's completely outmenaced by this guy. It's only one scene and one K.O. when he knocks Nathan down like a feather, but Demetrius Grosse owns the scene. Great casting.
Speedster Farm. Matt sings Daphne's praises and tells her he's in love with her, which, aww, even though you can hear Janice and L'il Matthew weeping while he says it.
Heartbreaking. It fits with the references to her "old life," with her love for her ability, and with her fear of Arthur snatching it away.
Props to Grunberg, because he manages to capture Matt's reaction without letting it stray towards false sympathy or indifference. You don't doubt for a moment that Matt will love her no matter what, but at the same time you see him realizing that Daphne was right, and that he had no idea who she was before he met her.
And props again to Brea for nailing this scene, because she steers clear of self-pity or bitterness and evokes our sympathy through her sense of shame. The camera lingers on the crutches for a moment, but avoids focusing on them so long that it would feel sentimental. It's the focus on the look between the characters that makes the moment as poignant as it is.
Canine Central.
Brilliantly shot. I love how the focus shifts from the glasses to Claire, as if Claire's becoming an extension to the icon that personifies The Company. Nicely done.
Noah promises to figure out what's happening to her. Claire tells Noah she loves him. Noah calls her "ClaireBear." It's the most moving aww of the episode, and it reminds you how rarely we get moments like this anymore: emotional, moving, human moments between the characters.
The only thing undercutting it is that, looking back, you realize Noah's lying through his teeth because the first thing he plans to do is NOT figure out what's happening to her, but instead go back to the Vortex Safe House and blow Sylar and Elle's brains out.
Again, superbly shot. I love how the smile he puts on for Claire vanishes the moment the glasses go on, and -- get this -- how Noah adjusts his tie as he's leaving the room. He's planning to haul out a sniper rifle and kill the people who shot his daughter, and he actually straightens his tie before he does that. It's such an amazing nuance, and it's so in character, and I'm willing to bet it's a Coleman improv, because only he could think up a detail like that.
Presumably, Noah knew Claire was bleeding to death. And he lied to and abandoned his daughter because revenge outweighed his readiness to watch her die while the killers got away. There's moral ambiguity, there's emotional detachment, and then there's plain heart-of-stone ruthlessness. And it's probably to Noah's credit that, after Claire gets shot, we can't tell where any of those ends or begins for the character.
Dun-dun-DUN!
Even if he doesn't go through with it, Noah this week brings new meaning to the word "badass."
This one's essentially a set-up episode, so, like "The Hard Part" without "Landslide," it's hard to judge the episode without seeing the follow-up. It has some strong moments, particularly in Claire and Daphne's storylines. You want to believe the show will change after this: that Matt and Daphne will become closer, and that Claire's near-death experience will affect her perspective. But then, in line with this season's focus on plot above character, you can't help wondering if large chunks of potential character development will just as easily be effaced or ignored.
As a set-up episode, part one of "The Eclipse" suffers from an inability to capitalize on its concept: the characters lose their abilities, but we learn nothing about why, and we spend most of our time on characters who were either already powerless or who rarely used their powers anyway. Why make an episode in which the characters lose their abilities and focus on an already-powerless Peter? Why focus on Hiro when the predicament in his storyline -- the loss of his memories -- has nothing to do with the eclipse? Both of those threads were well executed this week, but they sap time that could have been used to explore how the episode's predicament affects other characters: how does Angela react to the prospect of dreaming without horrifying prophecies? How does Knox's role as a minion change when his leader's strength disappears at the same time as his own? How do supers all over the world who love their abilities and use them for everyday purposes -- including long-forgotten supers like Monica and Micah -- react to the prospect of normality? It's possible a lot of this will emerge in the second part, but at this point, with the exception of Daphne and Claire, there's very little in this episode that couldn't have been achieved without an eclipse.
The episode also fails to generate any real sense of anticipation or foreboding. It seems like none of the potential developments will be as ominous or far-reaching as they should be. We know the show won't dare to kill Claire off; we know Noah won't end up shooting Sylar or Elle; we know no one in Team Pinehearst will think to turn on Arthur while he's vulnerable -- even though it would make sense.
The gist in the media seems to be that a major character's about to be killed off. Despite the mutiny it'll inevitably cause among portions of the fanbase, I hope that's true. Not because the show should delight in killing characters we love -- or, conversely, because it should bow down to pressure from fans to thin the herd -- but because the show seems afraid to shake itself up and thwart our expectations. When Hiro provides comic relief, I'd like to wonder -- just once -- if it won't go on like this for the rest of the show's run. When Claire is wounded, I'd like to wonder -- just once -- if the show has the courage to ignore our attachment to the character and refuse to write their way out of it.
Which isn't to say that death is the only way to sustain tension on the show; just that several of the characters are in near-death peril in this week's episode, and that it was impossible to feel invested in any of those moments. I'm not advocating the death of a main character for ratings or shock value: I'm advocating it because it'll help episodes like this to carry real weight and real tension -- two things this episode was predicated on, and two things it lacked.
Whether the characters' abilities return next week or the week after, this episode struggles because its concept isn't supported by any sense of tension. It fails to resonate, and it lacks substance. We know -- mostly from previous experience on this show -- that any calamity can be fixed, undone or rewound, or, in some cases, rewritten altogether.
Here's hoping the show bucks that trend and surprises us.
2.5 out of 5]]>
... that.
Self-parody? I'm not complaining. It's almost as hilarious as Hiro getting hit over the head. But the V.O. Mohinder monologue seemed to bring meaning to the episode, and when it's followed by a shot of Hiro bellowing at the top of his lungs, you have to wonder if the show is intentionally undermining itself.
Then there's the fact that Hiro gets to exercise his lungs at all. We get a gratuitous shot of Usutu's severed head on the ground ... which, ew, but also, Huh? Arthur snaps Maury's neck and beheads Usutu, but when it comes to the guy who knows everything that happened in the previous episode, he opts for turning his victim into a vegetable? Beyond the plot contrivance, it's also a little odd that Arthur suddenly wastes so much effort -- TK'ing Ando away and taking the time to wipe Hiro's memories -- when he could have killed them both in half the time. It's an error in judgment that earns Arthur his first *PING!* Dumb As Peter Award, because Hiro will inevitably regain his memories and this will inevitably come back to bite Arthur in the ass. Arthur should have killed Hiro right away. And I'm only half-joking. If this episode proves anything about Hiro, it's that he's more tolerable when he doesn't change or develop in any way.
Arthur gets distracted by Ando leaping at him, then by the painting of an eclipse on a boulder. Ando knocks Hiro into a semi-coherent state while Arthur admires Usutu's painting of the eclipse. You'd figure Arthur would be smart enough to freeze time while browsing, or at least TK Hiro and Ando to the ground so they couldn't escape.
Hiro and Ando teleport to a bowling alley, or, as we'll refer to it, the Superhero Nursery. I was anticipating having to rip into these scenes, and I'm pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed them. Between the absurdity of the mentally-prepubescent Hiro and the way the tone in these scenes jars with the others, I still wonder why this storyline didn't derail the episode. Its nostalgic value saves it, because the light-heartedness in these scenes takes us back to what made Hiro's thread so appealing in the first place: Hiro's infectious exuberance, the simplicity of his motives, and his everyman relatability. The point which Hiro's thread emphasizes this week is that the guy was an ordinary kid who discovered an extraordinary ability. In a season largely set in underground cells and top-secret labs where everyone possesses an ability, normality is a novelty.
Helix Compound. The camera pans around Sylar in one long, smooth shot. Arthur teleports back, and in contrast to the abrupt pop when Hiro or Peter teleport, it's a smooth, progressive effect. It's in service to character because it demonstrates how gracefully Arthur uses his abilities. Nice detail.
Arthur and Sylar contemplate how Peter survived getting TK'd out of a seventh-story window, and as effective as the "Ooh, I wonder!" moment is, it feels like an overplayed twist when it's brought up again two episodes later.
Arthur explains to Sylar that The Hunger isn't about killing so much as power. And although this part flies because Sylar's scalp-happy M.O. was always a means to an end, it's bizarre that Sylar now turns out to have what's essentially Peter's empath-absorption. On a basic logistical level, it clashes with Sylar's intuitive aptitude, which up until now (and even in the future) was defined as a distinct ability. It also implies that Sylar became a villain because he didn't know any better; on the basis of what we learn this week, Sylar could have become the same good-natured and sensitive man Peter was, if only he'd been as kind at heart and hadn't been made to feel like a failure by Mama Gray.
Sylar looks incredulous, and so do I, because as with many developments this season, it feels like something hatched for the sake of the current story instead of something that made sense for the character. Part of what made the tension between Peter and Sylar so effective was the perception that they were two sides of the same coin. The conclusion to draw from this revelation is that they're essentially the same side of the same coin, and that our interpretation of the other side of that coin was a misconception. We're left wondering whether we ever understood the villain we felt so invested in during the first season, which is less compelling than it is disappointing.
Arthur shuts Sylar in a dark and empty cell, and Greg Yaitanes and Charlie Lieberman's collective genius begins to emerge.
The sparse lighting, the dank, clammy, cavernous atmosphere, the sense of a place that's been forgotten ...
... the focus on specific details: the Ellectrobolt that forms in Elle's hands, the chains on her feet ...
... the hatred building up behind her eyes ...
... and something resembling your average Jackson Pollock.
We cut from a scene as intense as that, go to the opening sequence, and reach a part of the episode that struggles to match the rest. Paire shippers, do NOT rejoice!
Peter and Claire plan to leave the Apartment of Hospice Luxury. Only not together, because Peter wants to go "someplace where they can't find [him]" ...
... Such as the Company's New York facility? Yeah, no one's going to think to look for him there.
Peter wants Claire to go home, because the man who brings new meaning to "morally gray" is sure to prevent Claire from becoming the badass who Peter meets in the future.
The problem with this scene isn't the premise -- it's the acting. And it pains me to say that, because for the most part I've never had any issue with Hayden or Milo's acting, and there've been occasions when I thought they excelled in their roles. This was beyond less-than-stellar. This was wooden.
"Youdon'thaveyourpowersyourfather'stryingtokillyou."
All in one monotonal breath. No inflections. No feeling. No concern. Not even a sense of ownership in the words. Just hollow delivery of dialogue on a page.
Peter: "I need you to stay ... innocent."
Clunk ... clunk ... clunk. I cover my ears because the dialogue's so bad, but even the visual half of the scene fails because it's impossible to tell what Peter's feeling. He's the one driving this storyline forward, knowing how Claire turns out and wanting to alter the path she's on. The problem is you don't get a sense of that here at all.
Is Peter worried? Is he anxious or upset? Is he determined? I couldn't get a thing from his expression besides "obstinate." Like, "I've seen the future happen but that doesn't mean I have to let it happen." When Flint's idiot smile is more expressive than Peter's concern for Claire, something's wrong.
Knox and Flint break down the door to the apartment and find Claire ...
... wearing another smug smile. This is painful, people. The handheld camera is good and the window sequence is excellent, but when the performance from the actors bounces between "wooden" and "smug," it's hard to appreciate anything connected to it.
Claire: "Don't you know? I'm the defensive player of the year."
I'm trying to figure out what that line was supposed to convey. No matter how hard I try, all I get from it is "overconfident," "arrogant," "cocky" and "self-assured." The show this week made me despise a character whose scenes I used to look forward to.
Helix Compound. Mohinder tests The Formula on some random guy, turning him into a monster. This elicits sympathy and sadness from the audience, but also gives Mohinder a chance to express that he's Very Upset.
Arthur notices a monitor Mohinder's working from.
Mohinder: "It seems most of the powers I've documented took place during the last total annular eclipse."
Which means what, exactly? That the supers he identified had abilities during the last eclipse, or that they were using abilities during it, or only that they developed abilities after it? "Took place" is so vague that it's meaningless. This line makes a connection between abilities and the eclipse, but it's such a tenuous connection that we're not even sure what it is.
Mohinder explains that The Formula requires "some kind of catalyst that allows the blah-bla-blah-bla-blah-bla-blah-bla-blah ..." It boils down to Arthur figuring out that the key to The Formula isn't someone but something, and that Papa Sulu hid The Catalyst. Between this and sleeping with his wife, I'm sensing that Arthur really hated that guy. I'm also curious to see the look on Papa Sulu's face after learning that the baby he chose as the host and handed over to Noah back in the day was close to invulnerable. It's great if Papa Sulu wanted the third piece of The Formula to last forever -- long after everyone Papa Sulu knew and worked with was dead -- but it also defies all logic when you consider that Papa Sulu wanted to prevent anyone resuming work on The Formula. If Papa Sulu wanted to keep The Formula out of enemy hands, it would have made more sense to shred the blueprints and stick The Catalyst in someone who wouldn't sustain almost any injury.
Matt and Daphne find Company Medical deserted. Matt discovers Angela and resolves to get in her head and help her wake up. He does this either because he's out of options and doesn't know who to turn to for help against Team Pinehearst, or -- as I'd prefer to believe -- because his first instinct when someone's trapped and suffering is to help them. It's one of the subtler moments to character, but it's essentially an "incredibly-brave-or-incredibly-stupid" moment of heroism for Matt, because it doesn't seem like he thinks twice about helping Angela.
Daphne twigs that Arthur's responsible for putting Angela into a coma and speedyzips to the Helix Compound to report back.
Yaitanes seems to be playing around with camera focus in this scene in order to shift our sympathy between characters. The focus is on Arthur, with Daphne a slightly-blurred interruption to his thought process and the little voice that annoys him, but it's interesting that our sympathy skips over Arthur and onto that background figure when Arthur dismisses Angela's state of mind and threatens to send Daphne back to her "previous life." When Arthur says Angela "will be fine," it's not delivered with regret or worry so much as grim resignation, whereas Daphne's concern for Angela and for Matt -- as confused and peripheral as it is when it's shunted into the background of this shot -- comes off in waves. The shot's perfectly set up, but the real beauty's in the way it supports the emotional undercurrent of the scene.
Daphne speedyzips back to Company Medical and leaves Arthur to study his files on Papa Sulu and Claire, scuppering our hopes that Claire won't again become the pivotal figure in the story.
Sewer of Revelations. Peter refuses to abandon the We Must Separate Plan. I can't argue with this because, given the quality of their scenes together this week, I think it's best for the actors and their characters if their storylines permanently diverge.
Peter reveals that the alley he and Claire just ran through is the alley where Future-Claire shoots Future-Peter. It's good that the show didn't opt to drag it out, but when Peter tells Claire she's becoming "a killer," Claire's reaction ...
... is delivered with as little inspiration as her dialogue in the previous scene. Is Claire shocked? Is she skeptical? Is she horrified?
Is Peter haunted by the memory of what Claire becomes? Is he frightened by it? Milo's performance is so hollow in this scene that it's laughable: it looks like he's forcing each syllable out like he's choking on it. It doesn't evoke grief or trauma so much as the image of an actor regurgitating dialogue. It's unthinkable that Yaitanes would let a scene slide the way this one does, so I'm tempted to think this is some kind of statement about Kring's script.
Knox and Flint show up in the sewer. Claire tells Peter to run, then puffs herself up and tries to look as menacing as she can.
Claire: "You want him, you're gonna have to go through me."
I realize it's not Hayden's fault, but when you give a petite actress a line like that and ask her to deliver it next to two guys twice her size, it's unintentionally hilarious.
Forget the spitballs. "Time-space continuum"? I don't even need to comment. The show is officially reviewing itself.
Ando gives Hiro a demonstration of the scrunched-up face.
Hiro: "That's the stupidest thing I've ever seen."
Self-parody? It's big of the show to admit its idiocy, even when the admission is sandwiched between the image of a guy in his twenties playing spitball with schoolgirls and the sequence of pranks Hiro pulls in the bowling alley.
Hiro freezes time.
The fact that I can't remember the last time we heard that is a good sign. The fact that it doesn't immediately grate is even better. Two and a half seasons in, what becomes clear is that Hiro didn't need to change or evolve as a character at all, and that his contribution to the show is still limited to adolescent humor and an exuberant outlook on life.
It's funny, but the fact that we're content to watch Hiro being a 10-year-old prankster -- when the character deserved more -- is a sign that Hiro's emotional growth since the pilot episode has counted for very little. A subplot as pointless and absurd as this should not be entertaining: it should be an insult to the depth of Hiro's character arc. The fact that it isn't demonstrates how little depth that character arc has had, and how little we expect from the character and his storyline.
Now, compare that to this ...
... which is effective because of its technical brilliance, but also because we care whether or not the villain survives. And this ...
... which is astounding because of Kristen Bell's phenomenal performance, but also because we care whether or not Elle's rage ends up consuming her.
The difference between Hiro and these characters is that Sylar and Elle have evolved, and that -- issues with Sylar's redemption arc aside -- we care for the characters now more than when they were introduced. Bizarrely -- and perhaps tragically -- Hiro's storyline this week demonstrates that he's more entertaining with zero character development than he is with the context of his entire storyline over the course of the show.
Sylar gets burnt to a crisp and regenerates. You know the character isn't in any real danger, and, in a curious contrast to Claire getting shot in "Dying of the Light," you want to see how far the concept can go: you watch with grotesque fascination because you want to see how extensive the injuries can be.
What makes this one of the darkest and most gripping moments of the show is Kristen Bell. When you hear Elle let out those bloodcurdling shrieks, you wonder how the actress threw herself into the performance so convincingly. Kristen sells her performance this week in a way that few actors on the show have before.
If there's a level of ambiguity to these scenes, it's in Elle's need to avenge Bob in the first place. Elle's visceral need for revenge is understandable, but at the same time the context almost calls it into doubt: it's not like he ever showed he loved her, or that they were ever particularly close. The impression was that Elle was exploited by Bob, and that, where any father would have offered love and support, Bob offered disapproval and disappointment. One question this scene raises is whether Elle's furious assault on Sylar stems from hatred towards herself as much as towards him; self-hatred because of the way her father made her feel, but also because a part of Elle doesn't grieve the way it should, either because it's never been cultivated or because the absence of warmth between Elle and Bob means it was never there to begin with. It's possible Elle's rage also ties in with the realization that she'll never have a chance to earn her father's love. With her life at The Company over and her father dead, Elle's robbed of what little in her life made sense. Like Sylar, she's now faced with the prospect of forging a new path and discovering a new purpose. It's a solid explanation to why the actress got scenes with an off-camera friend, but it's also a character arc with remarkable depth given the way Elle started out last season.
Sylar accepts responsibility for Bob's murder but tells Elle he "didn't want to kill him." I'm tempted to question that when he got such a perverse delight out of flaunting Bob's ability in front of Elle, but the show seems determined to emphasize that Sylar's Hunger was forced onto him. Maybe I've been suckered by the show's single-minded attempt to convince us it's true, but this was the first week I actually bought it. Sylar counters Elle's hysteria with such stoicism, you believe he's willing to suffer for his crimes, and, moreover, you believe he wants to suffer for his crimes.
Which isn't to say the character's atonement has now been realized, or that the show's necessarily even pushing for him to atone completely. When Elle collapses and begs Sylar to put her out of her misery, Sylar gives a little flick of the hand, and for a moment, you wonder if he's going to slice her head open and grant her that plea. The fact that we wonder is a testament to the tension and suspense in the scene, and it underscores that Sylar may yet challenge our assumptions and surprise us.
In the meantime, Nathan and Tracy visit the Helix Compound. Nathan gets nostalgic about the way Papa Petrelli used to take him fishing. This, we learn, is where the name "Pinehearst" originated. Funny, if another nod to self-parody.
Nathan and Tracy reach Arthur's office, and I feel obligated to point out the gargantuan *GULP* Nathan takes when he opens the door and sees his dad.
If there's a way to capture "floored" with one expression, Pasdar finds it.
Nathan: "Do you have any idea what you've done to this family -- what you've done to me?"
Good dialogue. Simple but effective. It complements the outrage and hostility the other sons showed Arthur, but it's also a rare moment when Nathan's feelings center on himself. Peter's and Sylar's first concerns were what Arthur had done to Angela and what Arthur was doing at Pinehearst. Nathan's first concern is how his father's actions affected him.
Arthur speechifies about Nathan's "destiny," and I love how Nathan gives a reflexive flinch the moment Arthur tries to lay a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder. Terrific nuance, but also worth noting for the way it bridges the changing dynamic in the scene: we go from the father and son on opposite sides of the room to an uncertain proximity ...
... to the focus on Nathan as he tries to put everything into perspective ...
... to the focus on Arthur as he tries to impress his plan onto the "favorite son." Again, evidence of Yaitanes using elements of direction to push the audience's sympathy from one character to another from one moment to the next. The drawn-out close-ups give you a deeper sense of everything the characters are feeling -- more so than either of the previous father-son reunions -- but the shift in focus also brings out the uncertainty throughout the scene.
Arthur emphasizes that The Formula can "stop" the apocalypse and that he and Nathan can "save the world together." Forster delivers the lines with a measure of sincerity, but they sound as disingenuous now as they did when he told Peter he wouldn't let the future turn out the way his son saw it. It could be that, as the show's villain, Arthur's supposed to come across as untrustworthy and fake; but for whatever reason, his motive for wanting to save the world -- or even for wanting to end it -- remains exasperatingly cryptic. His altruism doesn't come through, but neither does his malevolence. The outcome is that we have no idea what Arthur's thinking or feeling. We can believe he's glad to see Nathan, but at the same time we don't get a sense of what Arthur planned to do if Nathan had been on board with his father's plan. We know Arthur says he wants to save the world, but his motives are so underdeveloped that we never get a sense of whether -- if the world did end -- he'd actually care one way or the other.
Nathan dismisses Arthur's delusion as "the same crap Linderman spouted." Again, good dialogue, and to character, because, in a contrast to Hiro's appeal being predicated on a lack of development, this underlines how Nathan has learned from experience and become a more rewarding character to follow because of it.
EllectroCavern. Sylar TK's Elle's chains off and tells her he's not going to kill her. And, again, props to Kristen, because this performance ...
... is beyond phenomenal. The character's physical and emotional exhaustion radiate off the screen, to the point where you buy her resignation as the loss of will to live instead of just a theatrical gesture.
It's interesting that Sylar reminds Elle of her wish to be "normal" and tells her they're the same. The scenes between Sylar and Elle underscore how much they have in common, but this stuck out to me, mostly because of the irony: Sylar wants acceptance from the people around him, but he also desperately wants to be special. You could argue that his desire to be special stems from a need for acceptance, and that Sylar and Elle tried to win parental approval in order to feel validated; but then, Elle showing Sylar how to harness the Ellectrobolt isn't about embracing normality so much as sharing a sense of superhuman solidarity. When Sylar tells Elle to forgive herself, and when her pain fades away, it's about Elle's acceptance of who she is as much as it is her reconciliation to Bob's death and her longing for his affection.
Sylar, by contrast, now learns he can be even more "special." And although I doubt anyone ever predicted we'd see Sylar cry because he's overwhelmed with emotions, this felt like such an organic development and such a believably overwrought scene that Sylar's tears, and his nervous laugh of relief when he rediscovers a part of his humanity, come across as believable reactions.
The episode momentarily shifts down a gear as Paire shippers once again grit their teeth. Peter intercepts Knox and Flint and hears Claire's uninspired "uuurrrgghlemmeGO!", then submits his own Emmy-worthy moment by telling Knox and Flint, "Let her go or you die!" This is some truly thankless material. How we can go from a scene where Elle begs Sylar to kill him to a scene like this is beyond me.
Peter uses a gas pipe against Flint. Uncharacteristically resourceful, but also worth noting for the way the explosion prompts Flint to instinctively dive for cover. I guess the theory that your own ability can't harm you doesn't extend to an external source.
Peter and Claire run, the flame dies down, Knox and Flint climb to their feet, and then ... they just stand there. *PING!* Knox and Flint win a combined Dumb As Peter Award, mostly because I was counting on them to capture at least one of those two so we wouldn't have to endure another scene between them again.
We cut back to the EllectroCavern, where Sylar and Elle ...
... cosy up to one another. Elle thanks Sylar for doing what no one's ever done for her before. In our defense, Elle: none of us would have lived to brag about it. Also in our defense, Elle: there are plenty of us who'd gladly be fried alive to help you reclaim your peace of mind.
Was the transition from hellbent out-of-control animal to thankful-and-forgiving friend too sudden? It's Elle, so I guess mood swings and insanity are in character; and it's Season Three, so I guess breakneck pace and haphazard storylines are to be expected. Still, hearing Sylar tell Elle that being "at war with ourselves [is] what it means to be human" drives home how bizarre this shift in the story was. Sylar helping Elle towards her reconciliation just about flies, but this:
... seemed like too much of a jump. It's disturbing, appalling and bizarrely sexy, but it's also so messed up that it makes you wonder what we're witnessing. Sylar did kill her father, and no matter what Elle's issues with Bob might have been, laughing and flirting with her father's killer so soon after she was ready to flay him alive seems a little too sudden.
Superhero Nursery. Hiro decides he's ready to move beyond time-freezing and onto teleportation.
Oh, no.
Please, God, no.
He's going to end up in feudal Japan again, isn't he? Only this time with amnesia. And he'll need to join an Irish gang and rob an armored car, and it'll be a hideous amalgamation of all the worst storylines the show ever came up with, and PLEASE, SHOW, NO!
I'M NOT READY TO REVIEW THAT GARBAGE AGAIN, DO YOU HEAR ME?
OK, breathe, breathe. Deep breaths. Stay calm.
Don't help him, Ando! Stop him!
Hiro teleports behind Ando, then in front of him, and says it was even more fun than stopping time. One can only imagine.
Helix Compound. Nathan relays Arthur's superpowers-for-all campaign and tells Tracy he doesn't know what to believe. In the first indication that Tracy runs out of patience and decides to go her own way, she tells Nathan to "snap the hell out of this."
^ ^ Actual dialogue!
I LOVE this character. She's so direct and crafty and manipulative ... and it makes so much sense that she's joining the less virtuous team because, given all of these attributes, she'd be squandered as a hero. Even the sight of Nathan zipping up his Members Only jacket and launching into the sky isn't enough to sway her from defecting to Team Pinehearst.
It could be Angela who put Tracy off. Or it's that Arthur was so suave and charming and Tracy couldn't resist the allure of villainy. Or maybe she just has a thing for influential men, and the prospect of Nathan dithering over what to do is such a turn-off to Tracy that she'd rather hang out with his dad. Whichever it is, Tracy's apparently now Head of Marketing for Team Pinehearst.
Matt works the Parkman Whammy and goes from the real Company Medical to a nightmare Company Medical. Although judging from the look of it, they're exactly the same.
Is this Angela's version of the nightmare that Matt trapped his dad in? It could be that Arthur trapped Angela where her prophetic dream took place; but in a way, Angela's inability to help herself in this dream mirrors her inability to avert what she dreams when she returns to the real world. If this isn't Angela's greatest nightmare -- locked in a facility she helped to create and unable to save herself or anyone else -- it's got to be pretty close.
Yaitanes does an amazing job distinguishing the real and nightmare environments. The rapid cuts do a lot of the work as Matt walks through corridors, finds Angela and tries to break her chains, but I also love the way the sound gets mangled: you hear the wind in the hall and the clank of Angela's handcuffs, but you don't hear Daphne's footsteps or the rattle of the doorknobs that Matt tries to open.
Nightmare-Daphne shows up to stab Matt in the chest. Real-Daphne joins Dream-Matt, and Brea Grant runs with the material and demonstrates that she can go well beyond the Hiro "nemesis" banter and scare the heck out of us, but also ...
... that she can play opposite herself fairly convincingly, to the point where we cut back and forth between the two Daphnes and immediately know -- from the expression, tone of voice and posture -- which Daphne is which.
Real-Daphne tells Matt she loves him. Which, aww, even though they barely know one another and there's no way to be sure if they're only projecting what they think they feel because they're supposed to fall in love. Who cares. In a surreal, artificially-induced nightmare, it's heartwarming.
Nightmare-Daphne turns into Arthur, which is all kinds of messed up, not least because Matt can never hug Daphne again without wondering whether she'll stab him and turn into a dude. But it allows Angela to confront her husband with the memory of how they "were once like that." I think Angela was a little taller and Arthur was a little cooler, but it's the thought that counts. And, really, in this family, does attempted murder count for anything? In an episode in which a character forgives and flirts with her father's killer, is it out of the realm of possibility for Angela to forgive Arthur after he tried to kill their son? It would probably depend on whether he forgives her for poisoning him, and for sleeping with one of their associates, who went behind both of their backs and planted a portion of their research in a human being who then turned out to be their granddau-
OK, headache.
Arthur, Angela, Matt and Daphne relocate to the Midas Study, which looks like it's been cleaned out except for the ElderSuper files, a globe and a couple of swords. There's regrettably no sign of Bob's cello.
Even sadder is the way Angela persists with reminding Arthur that he loved her, and that there's "a part of [him] that still does."
And when Mr. You-Need-To-Freeze-The-Frame-And-Scrutinize-Every-Nuance-To-Figure-Out-What-I'm-Thinking gets the puppy-dog eyes, it's hard to argue with Angela's observation. For a moment, you almost forget the context; you forget that Arthur's the Daddy Villain, about to lead the planet to annihilation. The character-based familial drama supersedes the fantastical plot. It's nothing groundbreaking, but it's affecting, and it's what Heroes does better than almost anyone else.
Angela implores Arthur to let them out of the nightmare ... and he does.
?!?!?!?!?!?!?
Sentimentality clouding Arthur's better judgment? Crafty scheming because he knows he'll manipulate them more effectively in the real world than he could here? Nausea after Daphne professed her love for Matt? You decide.
Everyone wakes up. Matt and Daphne meet Peter and Claire in the hall, and Matt's still mightily peeved about the time Future-Peter banished him to Africa, although he seems to overlook the fact that this experience helped him to find true love. So, really, regardless of which Peter this is, shouldn't Matt be shaking his hand and slapping him on the back instead of pinning him to a wall?
Helix Compound. I think it's telling that Mohinder's not included in the hero/villain montage we're about to see. I choose to believe it's not because Mohinder's too useless to choose a side, but rather because he's an impartial scientist and too caught up in research. Said research culminates in his test subject begging to be put out of his misery. I don't see Mohinder bonding with this guy over Ellectrobolts, but some contemplation would be nice, because Mohinder just took a life which won't be saved with Magik Blood.
Hiro and Ando teleport to Sam's Comics. The Japanese cover to the 9th Wonders comic was cool, but also the source of a serious WHAAAAAAT?!?, because, come on: unless Isaac painted this stuff six months in advance, passed the sketches on and oversaw their publication from the grave, this is ridiculous. It's possible, especially after we saw him hand his sketchbook to Nerdeo, but it feels less like a carefully planned twist and more like a contrived set-up for the plot.
Company Medical. Peter kisses his mom (aww) and thanks God she's alive ... and, presumably, Arthur, who helped him get over the urge to rip his mom's head open. Then Nathan shows up, and I realize this is the first time in a while that we've had so many mains in a room together. This is an ideal opportunity to discover who knows what, but the conversation immediately turns to the third and crucial part of The Formula being stored in a human host. I love how everyone's shuddering at the thought of the future they have to prevent and wondering what their part will be in stopping this calamity; and how, throughout it all ...
... Claire's thought process never waivers from me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me-OMFG-DO-YOU-THINK-I-MIGHT-BE-THE-CATALYST?!
If she isn't, she's still the center of the Heroes group shot.
And although I realize I might be channeling some antipathy towards a couple of heroes after their scenes this week, Team Pinehearst is most definitely a whole lot more exciting than Team Primatech. And I can't help wondering what that says about the show. When the villains turn out to be better realized, more consistent and more compelling than the heroes, is it a sign that the show's in trouble? Or is it a sign that the volume's preoccupation with moral ambiguity has turned everything on its head? Because that's what this episode reinforces: that everything has changed.
This episode was atrociously bad in parts and limitless in its genius in others. I've gone from devout Paire shipping to hoping Hayden and Milo never have a scene together again. I've gone from lamenting Ali Larter's thankless material to wondering when her story arc suddenly took on a life of its own. And I've gone from despising Elle to adoring her, and from wondering what all the fuss over Kristen Bell was about to wishing she was a cast regular.
I've even been successfully suckered into thinking the Sylar redemption arc's not as impossible as it seemed.
Overall, a mixed bag, but one that featured some spectacular performances from Kristen and Zach, some exquisite character work for Elle and Tracy, some brilliant visual touches by Yaitanes, and the sense that the show has regained its focus and direction.
4 out of 5]]>
... the way they look at one another, and the way Forster delivers that line, you can believe the sentiment went both ways.
Linderman: "My king, my queen, congratulations."
Angela: "Thank you, Daniel."
First time it's been established on-screen that Linderman deferred to Arthur beyond legal ties, and the first time Linderman's been called by his first name by anyone on-screen.
An attempt to shift the balance of power from Linderman to Arthur? An attempt to humanize the mobster mastermind behind the bomb plot in the first season? An attempt to emphasize Arthur as the Daddy Villain this season? You decide. For me, it's one of the few retcons in this episode that's difficult to get over.
It just about fits with the graphic novels if this is the kid who took orders from Sergeant Petrelli in Vietnam; but even then, it doesn't fit with the way Linderman later showed up to offer Arthur a role within The Company. The balance of power from that point was always in Linderman's favor, and even if you discard the graphic novels and stick with the show's canon, it never seemed like Linderman was anyone's lackey -- which is essentially how he's written here. By the time Nathan confronted him in "Parasite," Linderman was the guy pulling all the strings.
To be fair, we don't know if Nathan and Linderman met again before the confrontation at the Corinthian. But we go from Nathan threatening the chafe of handcuffs and Linderman's palpable concern here ...
... to the pot pie scene in "Parasite," when Linderman's close to untouchable and Nathan's trembling under the guy's menace. Like Meredith and Elle, Linderman was rewritten for this episode to work. Does that drag his scenes down? In no way. But it underlines one of this season's biggest flaws: that character behavior's being tailored to fit the requirements of the story.
Arthur mind-reads Nathan and realizes he'll go down with Linderman if Nathan goes ahead with the prosecution. Neat effect: I love how it's so much smoother and less choppy a cut-cut-cut than it is with Maury or Matt. It's consistent with the guy who sucked up Sylar's intuitive aptitude without worrying about The Hunger, and who took on the Tears of Death without wondering if he'd be able to control them. I was hoping this episode would establish if Arthur absorbs abilities without leaving the original host dry, but we're left to speculate about whether Arthur really does "take it all and leave nothing behind": if he didn't get the mind-reading and mind-control from Maury, it seems like he sucked the whammy out of some other poor sucker over the past couple of decades, and Maury coming along with the same power was a coincidence.
Arthur assures Linderman that dissuading someone as single-minded as Nathan is a lost cause, and Linderman asks, "What do we do?" Again, it fits with the directionless miracle-healer kid who looked up to his confident commanding officer. But Linderman? The guy with unfathomable resources and enormous finances and clairvoyant paintings spanning centuries? Linderman is asking what he needs to do? I don't buy it.
Arthur calmly decides to kill his son.
^ ^ Appalled!
And this is the guy who later rationally explains to Nathan that killing off .07% of the population is an acceptable loss. You could argue that Linderman distinguishes genocide from killing one's own child; or simply that his perspective changed. But this character has a conscience. He's not the character who later lets Nathan in on the plan to nuke New York.
Memphis, Tennessee. If you didn't catch the license plate on the truck, a helpful chyron establishes the location. I find it amusing that the show expects us to follow elaborate time-jumping storylines but doesn't think we'll catch a location on a license plate. And, thinking about it for a second, I wonder if Hiro can see these chyrons. If he can't, does he know this is only set one year ago instead of 18 months ago? There's another reason why the framework around the episode doesn't work.
Meredith and Flint hold up a convenience store. Meredith goes straight for the cash register. Flint goes for the microwavable popcorn. I'm still trying to figure out if we were supposed to find Flint this entertaining from the moment he was introduced. Judging from the way his blue-pyro reign of terror was included in the recap -- accompanied by a monologue about people going "horribly wrong" -- I'm guessing not. It's not exactly objectionable if the show uses a Level 5 villain for comic relief; I recall a moment at the bank when Blake Shields came across as too eminently likable to ever play a convincing villain. But the Level 5 inmates were conceived as the most vicious villains alive. Call me crazy, but doesn't microwavable popcorn undermine that?
Welcome back, Eric Roberts!
Thompson shows up to hose Flint.
Roberts looks like he can barely conceal how much he's enjoying playing the action hero ...
... and Blake Shields definitely looks like he prefers playing a big dumb kid to a ruthless psychokiller.
Meredith diverts Thompson's attention and tells Flint to run. Flint, spectacularly obedient to his sister, complies.
"Brooklyn, New York, one year ago." The way the shots move between mirrors and magnifying glasses is perfect. The ticking clock and the broken piano theme in the background are superb. And Zach's ability to slip into the neurotic, nerdy watchmaker's son is as flawless as ever.
The show's reluctance to rely on our memory and common sense isn't so admirable. We're inundated with shots of Sylar conking Brian over the head with a slab of quartz. The show would have you believe this is to emphasize Sylar's intense distress over his first kill. If you're cynical, you realize it's because the show doesn't expect us to remember that without repeated visual aids.
Sylar prepares the noose and pushes the chair aside.
Beautiful shot. Very precise, and very carefully thought out. A lot of shots in this episode display Allan Arkush and Nate Goodman's trademark precision and technical wizardry, but I love how elements of the direction and photography support the story: a surreal shot like this sets up why Sylar believes Elle's an angel when she saves him.
Elle tells Sylar that "everything's gonna be OK." She tells him that "everybody does bad things," that she's "felt exactly how [Sylar's] feeling right now," and that sometimes it helps to "talk about it."
Humor me: read that last paragraph again. The next time we see this character ...
... she'll be stroking Peter's earlobes, fondling his hair, Ellectrozapping him for kicks and playing the unhinged-and-dangerously-unstable sex-kitten role to perfection.
My point isn't that the way Elle's written here doesn't make sense. It does -- as much as Elle's role in the Company storyline in Season Two did. I vastly prefer the way Elle's written here to the way she was written in Season Two, so I can't hold this particular course correction against the episode; and, to be fair, the performance Kristen gave during Season Two -- even when she was whiny and pouty and obnoxious and when I hated her with the passion of a thousand fiery suns -- was as complex as the performance she gives here. My point is that Elle shouldn't have been written one way, then another, and then the first way again. This episode reestablishes that's Elle a Company cautionary tale, but it also portrays her as sensitive, charming and perceptive. She's putting on an act, but only up to a point: the implication is that she genuinely cared about Sylar and didn't want to watch The Company destroy his life. Within the show's continuity, that's then effaced by the Season Two sociopathic Ellectrozap-happy brat with the mental age of an eight year old, only for Elle to then bizarrely rediscover the complexity she had at this point in the show's chronology at the start of Season Three.
I guess we can write this off if it turns out Elle has a moral crisis, turns against The Company and gets lobotomized. But the question is whether we should need to speculate that far. The character here -- and the character throughout Season Three so far -- is a polar opposite to the character we met in Season Two.
Elle leaves Gray & Sons. As she walks away we get a glimpse of the clock outside the shop. The time on the clock is ...
Oh, show. Clever, clever show. For that, I forgive inconsistent characterization.
The Primatech Van? Very cute.
Elle asks why she and Noah can't B&T Sylar and analyze his ability with the standard vivisection. Noah (although, at this point, I guess he's not "Noah," or even "Daddy Bennet": he's "Anonymous Evil Trenchcoat Guy") exposits that whales won't sing in captivity. Given the way we've watched Sylar snack on Bridget Bailey in captivity, I'd say that theory's been refuted. In Noah's defense, there's no way he could have known that at this point.
Props to all of the cast for climbing back into their characters two years earlier. Coleman does a particularly stellar job. He's fortunate because his material in this episode is wholly assignment-oriented -- the way it was in the pilot -- allowing him to slip into his early-Season-One character gracefully. Noah walks with a more confident stride; his tone of voice becomes level and less emotional; his eyes convey resolve instead of anxiety. You can believe this is the guy who taunts Mohinder in the cab and lies so convincingly to his family.
Noah: "Pie!"
Pushing Daisies shout-out? It was written and filmed long before the drama over the past week, but if there's a subtext to that line, it screams, "Only you can save us, Bryan!"
Primatech Fun Factory. Meredith asks if they can skip the bulls**t and go right to the deal Thompson wants to cut with her. It's remarkable for the way Jessalyn Gilsig gets it across: it's more shrewd and to-the-point than it is b**chy, which is in line with the character she played all along.
Thompson asks Meredith why she hates The Company. Her reasons come out before the episode's over, so I'm not sure the melodramatic pause here was necessary. But the intriguing question is why Thompson doesn't already know what Meredith's reasons are. Meredith obviously knows it was Company agents who broke into her home 14 years earlier. It's not clear how she knows, but given that Thompson's reading Meredith's history out to her, and given that we've seen Thompson hand Claire over to Noah, the question is why Thompson doesn't immediately make the connection between Meredith and Claire. The only explanation is he doesn't know Meredith is Claire's mother; and if Noah and Claude tried to B&T a firestarter, brought the woman's baby back to The Company and never once mentioned the identity of the firestarter they were trying to take down in the first place, you really have to wonder how an organization with such serious communication issues lasted so long.
Petrelli Castle. Nathan shows up, Arthur implores Nathan to drop the Linderman case, and Nathan insists he's going to free the family from Linderman's "toxic" influence.
It's difficult to say what's running through Arthur's mind in this moment. Forster plays his scenes with enigmatic brilliance, but I think you could argue this look conveys admiration for Nathan's resolve as much as it does resigned acceptance about what he now needs to do.
Adrian channels the confident, steely-eyed gaze he delivered so well throughout the first season, and reminds me why I'm still looking forward to Nathan's scenes with Arthur in the present more than anything else for the rest of this volume.
The repeat of the crash from "Six Months Ago" is brief and manages not to come across as an attempt to harvest scenes from earlier episodes. Looking back, I wish we could have gotten a reaction from Angela or Arthur about Nathan manifesting an ability. We now know they were waiting to gauge whether his synthetic ability was successful; you'd think whatever details Linderman's goons fed back about their target launching into the air would be worth a line or two in the next scene.
Nathan waits outside Heidi's room at the hospital and learns she's paralyzed. Adrian delivers what remains one of his most earnest and compelling performances. It doesn't borrow from the show's early brilliance any more than the car chase did, but, perhaps unfortunately, it reminds us that a lot of recent material on the show doesn't come close to topping this early brilliance.
The little gasp of horror Angela lets out when they find out Heidi's spine is broken was well played by Cristine. Angela looks like she starts to connect the dots right away, so the fact that she doesn't immediately order Linderman to work the Be-Healed Whammy on Heidi just about flies. But then, Adam's locked up at the Hartsdale facility at this point, so it's not like the Magik Blood wasn't an option worth considering. I'm surprised there wasn't any mention of this. It was an ideal opportunity to bring Adam into the story, and the guy was effectively erased from the backstory this week.
Again, beautifully shot. I love how Angela's like a blurry backdrop to the drama between the brothers, but I think it's also interesting that Arthur's kept out of this particular shot, as if he's peripheral to the family unit. He's responsible for this accident, so I guess a shot like this reinforces that it's now "them" against him.
Arthur and Angela return to Petrelli Castle. Arthur insists Linderman wouldn't dare go after Nathan on his own. I think the Season-One Linderman most definitely would, but perhaps this wimpier lapdog Linderman wouldn't.
Angela's expression ...
... more or less sets up her doubt, but also conveys how much she wants to push back her suspicion and fool herself into trusting the man she loves. When Angela tells Arthur she loves him, you can believe it. And when Arthur removes his glasses, looks at his wife ...
... and lies to her face about an attempt to murder their son, you're hard-pressed not to sympathize with the woman for poisoning him and wanting him dumped in a Company incinerator.
Thompson and Meredith visit a ramshackle shelter to apprehend a superpowered war veteran named Danny Pine. Thompson introduces himself as a Veterans Affairs official. Danny wants to know what happened to Scofield.
Scofield?
Fox River? Panama?
The metal arm is a neat touch, as is ...
... the little smile Meredith gets when she captures her first target. It's a fateful irony that, barely a year later, her daughter gets the same smile when she captures her first target.
Queens, New York. I wanted to call this place the Pie Hole, but the ABC lawyers would probably come after me, so I'm settling for the Morally Gray Apartment. Whatever we call it, it's a testament to the detail that goes into making the show, from Papa Gray's company-headed paper to the SuperMap Eden and Mohinder find in "One Giant Leap."
Again, plus points for continuity; it dovetails perfectly with Sylar's first batch of victims in Season One, and with the reveal in the graphic novels that Sylar was working from a fragment of Chandra's list.
Elle shows up with pie and tells Sylar she's been thinking about him. She shows an interest in Sylar's list, and Sylar -- determined to be special in Elle's eyes -- snatches it from her. Sylar demonstrates his ability. Elle wonders about the people with abilities like Sylar's, and Sylar -- determined to be special in Elle's eyes -- immediately shuts down the conversation and asks about the pie. It's one of the more consistent parts of Sylar's character arc, and Rob Fresco brings it out with remarkable subtlety.
Primatech Fun Factory. It's worth noting that Meredith goes along with her assignment and seems pretty enthused about the prospect of becoming an agent. I'm not sure I buy a character with this kind of integrity turning corrupt enough to extort $100,000 out of Nathan less than a year later, but it's interesting that, per the graphic novels, a character who lacked a stable environment during childhood and moved between adoptive homes during adolescence would latch onto a regimented life of structure and procedure.
Flint: "An invisible man tackled me in the alley!"
Claude shout-out? It's a funny line, even if it isn't. Chances are Claude's off the Company radar after Noah shot him six years earlier, but you could speculate that if Claude isn't tackling fellow supers for kicks, it's simply another invisible super. That, or the show's rewriting this part of the backstory as well, and Claude's still a Company agent a year before Peter finds him in New York.
Flint's enthusiasm about becoming a Company agent is so pathetic it's funny. I'm not sure what it means when one of the volume's most allegedly merciless villains turns out to be pathetic or funny, but the salute Flint gives Thompson is so adorably naive that it's endearing.
Morally Gray Apartment.
Beautiful set, and beautifully shot. The plastic-covered chair; the perfectly-made bed; the antiquated lamp and rug and wooden furniture; the fact that Sylar and Elle have to eat on the floor because Sylar never has guests and wouldn't have a table to eat at. You don't know whether to laugh or cry for the guy.
Sylar describes himself as "an addict" who's after "a drug that [he] can't get enough of." I think the analogy was more effective as part of the subtext rather than part of the dialogue, but, in the show's defense, this is at least an attempt to connect the current Season Three storyline with the origin of the villain: alongside Sylar's final phonecall to Chandra in "Don't Look Back" and the "forgive me" scrawling in "One Giant Leap," it becomes apparent that Sylar was aware he was turning into a monster. This episode doesn't redeem the character any more than the previous episodes have, but it gives Sylar a level of self-awareness, and it lays out how, on top of being a victim of circumstances, Sylar was actively pushed into becoming a killer.
Sylar: "Maybe I don't have to be so special. Maybe I can just be Gabriel again."
Word for word, it's almost identical to what he later tells Mama Gray. It seems like Sylar wants from Elle exactly what he later wants from Mama Gray and Angela: to be accepted the way he is.
Outside, Noah looks like he's about to throw up from the sentimentality of the scene. He realizes Elle's not just throwing herself into a performance, and gives ...
... possibly the cruelest smile he'll ever give anyone on this show. I figured at first that this came down to Noah being uncharacteristically vicious towards Elle, but it could be that Noah was so good at compartmentalizing work from family that an emotional attachment in his work inspired a reflexive reaction.
Petrelli Mansion. Angela overhears the plot to kill Nathan, looks thunderstruck, and Arthur Parkman- AND Haitian-whammies Angela into submission. Which makes us despise Arthur even more and makes Angela even less of an equal partner in the ElderSuper hierarchy, but also quite elegantly sets up her distaste for Matt's ability at the police precinct in Season Two, and explains why she was reluctant to let the Haitian inflict any mind-wiping on Claire in "Fallout."
Desert of Clairvoyance. Hiro goes catatonic, Usutu and Ando mix a gaseous version of the clairvoyant goop, and Hiro gets put under again. I'm at a loss to explain why this scene was here. This is about a minute of screen time that could have been used for any other storyline.
Primatech Fun Factory. Meredith springs Flint out, helps him escape on a freight train and tells him he can't ever trust The Company. As with every Flint scene this week, it's hilarious, mostly because of Flint's insistence that The Company's "been nice" to him, but also because Meredith finally loses patience with Flint and tells him they're tricking him because he's dumb. I love the petulant look Flint gets when Meredith says this. He can't disagree with it, but he also trusts Meredith enough to make decisions for him, which leads very consistently into Flint always needing a crewrunner like Knox or Arthur to tell him what to do. It also sets up an inevitable scene in which Meredith and Flint discover they're working for opposing companies, and in which Flint wonders how Meredith could rejoin the organization she told him not to go anywhere near.
The cut from the flaming carriage to the flame on the stove at Petrelli Castle was a neat touch. It's amazing how this episode cuts from an explosive, high-octane scene to an intimate, character-based scene without losing any tension or momentum. Whatever issues the episode has with continuity and internal consistency, its pacing and flow are impeccable.
It's an Arthur Whammy, so you'd figure it's as slick and insurmountable as they get. The fact that Angela's able to overcome it at all -- if only enough to look disturbed about something she can't put her finger on -- is a credit to her strength of will. I think it's also enormously to Cristine's credit that she switches so effortlessly from self-deluding wife to mind-rape victim to vengeful mother to liberated widow in the space of one episode; and that she takes the character who helped orchestrate the bomb plot and makes us feel as bad for her as we felt for Sandra after she was Haitian-whammied into debilitation.
Linderman: "That smells good! Almost as good as my pot pies."
Nice throwback, but also worth noting for the way McDowell delivers it. It's the one way you can reconcile the Linderman we see here with the one we see at the Corinthian.
Linderman works the Be-Healed Whammy on Angela, and the little half-smile he gives after restoring her memories ...
... could easily be the same smile Arthur had after removing Maya's ability; that's to say, the Good Deed smile. But I don't think Linderman would take any pleasure in small deeds; his smile here is because he helped someone he cared about, and more importantly because he realizes it's the first step to overthrowing Arthur's empire. The focus on challenging blind obedience makes for a neat thematic tie to Meredith and Flint's storyline, but it's also the only way Linderman's description of Arthur in "Landslide" as a man who was "weak" and who "gave up" makes sense. If you figure Linderman's confidence emerges when he decides to take a stand against Arthur, it's his subversion that propels him to change and step up as the Big Boss of Season One.
Linderman: "Believe it or not, I still have a shred of humanity left in me somewhere."
I find that hard to believe, but if we're supposed to believe it, I think it's telling that Linderman's shred of humanity is rekindled by the prospect of rescuing Angela from what amounts to an abusive marriage. This is a springboard for ... Lindermangela shippers?
Aaaaaand we're back to the pilot episode. Sort of. Amazingly, the footage of the train wreck doesn't look at all dated; the pyrotechnics are still spectacular by TV standards, the new footage on the bridge blends seamlessly with the reused footage, and the scene does what so many scenes in "Six Months Ago" did: it alters our perception of the characters and their story arcs. Even if this wasn't the idea when the pilot was shot, the fact that Claire's heroism emerged at a crash which her biological mom caused somehow brings Claire's arc -- and Meredith's -- full circle.
Meredith reveals that The Company killed her daughter. Thompson catches on to the daughter's name and mumbles something about how The Company "told her she died in a fire." I continue to be amazed that Thompson didn't make this connection sooner, but I guess it was 14 years earlier, and perhaps, at the time, he really wasn't privy to the high-clearance information he has now.
^ ^ Alternatively, the reason Thompson suddenly gets so jittery about Meredith being brought back to The Company isn't about a conflict of interests between Meredith and Noah, but because he knows there's A Big Plan for the kid who was handed off to Noah, and because he doesn't want Meredith interfering in the life of the Pure-Blood-Formula-Key-To-Averting-The-Latest-Apocalypse daughter. I hope that isn't the case, but kind of suspect it is.
Morally Gray Apartment. Elle dresses up, cooks ziti for Sylar and tells him about "some sort of artsy spoken-word thing" at the theater down the street. Aww. I know it's grotesque and laughable, but am I insane for shipping these two?
Sylar suggests they visit the theater later that night, which is pretty funny because I'm guessing that Sylar -- prudish gentleman though he is -- had only one outcome in mind on this particular night. Which makes Elle's admission that she invited someone to join them all the more hilarious. I don't even want to think about the slash fiction that fans will get out of that.
Petrelli Castle. I'm not sure how the cast takes dialogue about Italian lentil soup and makes it so ominous, but this trumps even Arthur's line to Nathan about looking good in a suit.
As with all of her scenes this week, it's perfectly played by Cristine. You get a sense of Angela's hurt and betrayal, but you can see how it's only veiling the rage beneath the surface.
Angela wonders whether, without the mind-reading ability, Arthur would know who she was anymore. That trail of thought inevitably leads to the conclusion that Arthur became warped and misguided and fanatical; Angela says as much in the next scene when she tells him he was "a visionary" who lost his soul.
Which sounds a lot like Adam. I was waiting for one of the characters to draw the parallel; even if it had only been an off-the-cuff namecheck, it would have helped to bridge this with the brief-but-illuminating backstory in Season Two. The way Adam's role in The Company is ignored -- and the way his importance in shaping the ElderSuper's collective ideology is ignored -- is disappointing. It doesn't drag any of these scenes down, but it stops the story arc from becoming as epic as it could have been.
Not that this isn't something the show can return to; as with the Haitian showing up and already working specifically for Angela -- over and above Arthur or Linderman -- there's an enormous chunk of this backstory still left to explore.
Morally Gray Apartment.
Trevor plows through every glass in the apartment. Sylar looks mortified at the debris he'll need to sweep. Elle looks thrilled at Trevor's ability, which makes me wonder whether she's secretly saying, "Pfft! What a crappy power! Mine is SO much cooler!", but which, more importantly, also draws attention to how "special" Trevor is and maximizes Sylar's outrage. With hindsight, it jives perfectly with Sylar's line in "The Butterfly Effect" about Elle being as much to blame for his killing spree as anyone. It didn't make sense at the time, but it shows how at least some parts of this show were planned in advance.
Zach works the manic eyes. It's interesting that he brings out the Sylar personality while he's still wearing his glasses: in "Six Months Ago," he removed his glasses before cracking open Brian's head. Small detail, but it's a nice visual clue to the psychotic personality overcoming and submerging the mild-mannered one.
Elle makes a half-hearted attempt to hold Sylar back, freaks out and runs. Sylar TK's Trevor to the wall and scalps him. And Noah ...
... watches with disturbing fascination as Sylar demonstrates his M.O.
As with many parts of this flashback, you could argue that it retcons everything we thought we knew. There's never been an indication that Noah was involved in events leading up to Sylar's rampage. By all accounts, given what we've seen here, Noah should be going on a long-haul guilt trip for everything that happens after this -- especially to Sandra and to Claire.
But then, you could equally argue that he is carrying the weight of that, and that it just hasn't been shown on-screen. You could also argue in favor of Noah's compartmentalization: he's impartial here, but he sobers up when Sylar comes after Claire. At that point, when his actions come back to bite him in the ass, it's as if he finally realizes the horror he helped to set into motion. By that logic, Noah only acknowledges the reality when it becomes personal and threatens his family.
And that's just Noah.
Elle looks like she'll need a lifetime of therapy. And while I can just about accept the retcon to Noah's backstory, the only way I can explain the change between Elle now and Elle when she's straddling Peter is a Haitian Whammy that goes disastrously wrong.
Brilliant. Theatrical, but brilliant.
Again, brilliant. Visually, this episode is on a level with the best of the show.
Petrelli Castle. Angela watches her husband collapse and takes a sip of wine. The Ice Queen is born.
Angela: "I lied. It's not your mother's recipe."
Line of the night. Perfect deadpan delivery.
Nathan shows up, finds his father on the ground and immediately forgets his vendetta against Arthur. In character, very human, and complemented by Angela's glance at Nathan as he's dialling 911: it's partly regret for the anguish she caused her sons by killing their father, partly admiration for the way Nathan's so much more forgiving than she is.
Arthur's doctor turns out to be the bespectacled whitecoat that'll tend to him over the next year. I'm still surprised that the show opts for "permanent paralysis" and doesn't go anywhere near Adam's Magik Blood as an immediate solution. I guess security at the Hartsdale facility is better at this point, but come on: how much harder would it be for Maury to sneak in and swipe a vial of Adam's blood now than it would be a year later?
We cut to the street below the Morally Gray Apartment. This is a part of the timeline that doesn't quite gel, because somehow, between Sylar scalping Trevor in the previous scene and Noah jumping into Mohinder's cab in this scene, Eden was assigned to watch over Chandra, Sylar tracked down and killed Chandra, Noah flew to Madras to analyze and collect Chandra's research, and Mohinder and Noah both flew to New York for the rest of this scene to play out.
Who cares? Let's focus on simpler thoughts. It was a simpler time. A time when Mohinder was the intelligent scientist, when Noah was The Anonymous Trenchcoat Guy, when strangers felt a sense of solidarity during an eclipse and struck up conversation about being extraordinary ... and when we had no idea of the bug-serums, feudal Japan detours and pandemic virus plots ahead.
The repeat of Peter climbing out of the cab and Noah hopping in was a neat touch. As with Meredith showing up at the train wreck, it changes your perception of the story. It feels even more fateful than it did at the time, but it also feels even more tragic. In retrospect, Noah was at least partly responsible for the death of Mohinder's father.
Peter, Nathan and Angela attend Arthur's funeral. Nathan brings up Izzie, the uncontrollable bane of Arthur's existence. Funny, and a subtle way to offset the disturbing half of this scene. It seems like there's a measure of venom in Angela's voice when she tells her sons not to idolize their father. It could be the moment when Angela starts feeling "free to speak [her] mind," but it could also be the starting point for the character we'll see her become: the one who's motivated enough to pick up where her husband left off and complete the plans they'd made together.
Desert of Clairvoyance. Hiro wakes up. He and Ando hear a shriek.
Goodbye, Usutu! We liked your paintings. We liked how you made fun of Matt's illiteracy and bonked Hiro over the head. We hope to see you in many dream sequences, and we're only mildly perplexed by the way Arthur showed up out of nowhere to kill you.
This one? ... Arthur can take. Scream, Hiro. Scream all you want.
For whatever reason, this episode's flaws didn't grate too severely with me. It could be the nostalgia trip that made it so enjoyable, but the episode's merits were enough to make me want to forgive its failings. It's not like the episode's perfect. The plotholes and inconsistencies are rampant, some key issues are glossed over or ignored, and the episode never quite manages to embellish the characters as successfully as "Six Months Ago" did.
But a lot of the inconsistencies can be written off with idle speculation. None of the plotholes are critical enough to damage the story the show was trying to tell. And, continuity issues aside, this episode does exactly what "Six Months Ago" and "Four Months Ago" did: it redeems and humanizes characters who were either two-dimensional or one-note, and it gives the audience a window into the characters' shared history. It's also a moment for Angela and Elle to shine, and for Cristine Rose and Kristen Bell to demonstrate why they're among the strongest members of the cast.
And, if nothing else, it has Hiro shrieking "AAAAARRRRRGGGHHH!" ... which will never not be awesome.
4.5 out of 5]]>
Mohinder's a white dude! Now we know Usutu has a sense of humor.
Mohinder is angry. Nathan and Tracy have "ruined everything." I'm not sure what there is to ruin, but Mohinder sees the steam rising from Tracy's cryo-hands, and the vibe in this scene reverses so abruptly that it pulls you right out of the story: Mohinder suddenly gets this wary look, Tracy gets this almost-confident look, and Mohinder backs off and says he was only trying to "help Maya." Which, while laudable because it minimized Maya's dialogue over several episodes, feels very inconsistent. The way Mohinder rips open the cocoon and busts through the skylight is a neat effect, but everything driving Mohinder is underdeveloped. Putting Maya in a cocoon doesn't seem to have furthered Mohinder's research in any way, and it never seemed like Mohinder giving himself an ability and cocooning a neighbor and a random drug dealer was about helping Maya. Or if they were, that was never clear enough. You can see what the show was trying to do, but Mohinder spent a quarter of this season seeming less like a misguided fool for love and more like an instinct-driven zombie.
We cut to Peter at the Helix Compound, where we're supplied with a montage of images which we've already seen, but which serve to bring up to speed any viewers who either didn't watch that episode or didn't remember it. I think this could have been lumped in with the rest of the footage in the Previously, but we do get one new image from Papa Petrelli's funeral a year earlier:
And, as gorgeous as Cristine Rose looks in every scene, I feel obliged to point out that she looks about 20 years younger in this flashback. Which is probably a combination of a distorted dream and Angela applying heavy make-up to cover up grief (even if it's not grief over the death of that "deeply flawed" magnificent b*****d), but perhaps it also says something about the enormous toll that events in the past year have taken on her. After a tragedy like this, who wouldn't be up for a bout of sock-stealing?
Peter wakes up from his expo-conducive flashback to discover he's cuffed to a stretcher in a cell. And while Arthur's choice of literature is in itself a subtle nod to character, the fact that Arthur stayed with his son seems like the first of several instances when Arthur comes across as less of a megalomaniac and more of a concerned father.
Peter asks Arthur if his abilities are gone forever, and ...
... his look of dismay is surprising. We've never really gotten a hint of whether Peter values his powers for their own sake rather than for self-defense. The look of vulnerability he gets in this scene is like an echo of the guy who was thrilled to discover he could fly when the show began.
Arthur tells Peter they'll make sure the future he saw never happens -- and call me crazy, but he seems genuine enough. A little stubborn and warped, but not cold-as-stone malevolent to the point of not caring that the world ends. We don't even know for sure whether it's Arthur's plan that causes abilities to become widespread and the planet to break in half.
Peter's "not interested" in hearing what Arthur's doing. I'm interested, and I wish Peter would shut up long enough for Arthur to explain his plan, but Peter's hostility towards Arthur is one part of the storyline that seems consistent with the backstory: in "Six Months Ago," Peter proudly pointed out that he finished school without his father's money or support. Between the two sons who actually knew that Arthur was their father, it seems like Peter was always the one with a little less admiration and a little more resentment, even before he found out that Papa Petrelli was behind a superpowered conspiracy.
Claire and Sandra return to Canine Central, Sandra asks if Claire's OK, and Claire's like, "Yeah, I think so, but it's funny after everything I've been through and blah-bla-blah-bla-blah-bla-blah and me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me ... [edited due to time constraints?] ... and oh, by the way, ARE YOU OK? 'Cause I can imagine how getting kidnapped by a deranged puppeteer and being forced to shoot your daughter would be hard on YOU as well."
Sandra heaps praise on Claire for her strength and courage and OMG-general-amazingness, and I have to wonder what the show's trying to achieve here. Even if I didn't find Claire self-centered to the point of being contemptible in this episode, I have to wonder why the show is trying so hard to glorify the character. When you get speeches like this two weeks in a row, it's more than a sweet moment where a parent tells their child they're proud of her. When a character's saintliness is rammed down your throat so overtly, it invites you to disagree with the sentiment and look for reasons to dislike the character.
The house lights start flickering. Run for your lives! It's a monster with the ability to wreak horror-movie cliches from hell! No, wait, it's Lyle! He wanted to go to the other side! He had to know what was there! He needed to feel loved! It's a plea for attention!
Claire finds Elle surfing the web. So Lyle got fried because he was trying to stop her from checking her e-mail? Hayden tries her best to look menacing, tilting her head forward and glaring upwards. It doesn't quite work, mostly because we know Claire's anything but a badass at this point, and because we know Elle's a whole lot scarier.
Elle goes Ellectric on Claire, and Claire ...
... looks like she's trying to say "Do your worst!", but it comes across as more "Look at me, so smug, don't you wish grandpa would suck the arrogance right out of me?"
We get the next best thing:
It's almost as cathartic as Hiro getting thwacked over the head. Shouldn't Claire be on fire? Or at least a little burned? Elle singed a guy to cinders the last time she pulled this trick, so is the voltage weakening as the ability becomes more unstable, or is Claire so "smoking hot" that the show can overlook continuity? Do they love her too much to burn her?
Lyle douses Elle with a bucket of water.
Cool effect, and props to Lyle for doing what's in all likelihood the most useful thing he's ever done on the show.
The moment when Elle collapses in the corner was beautifully captured, and probably the strongest moment of the episode. The drowned-rat look does a lot of the work, but so do the desperation in Elle's eyes and the nervous nail-biting before the scene cuts away. As awesome as the chick fight and Ellectro-zapping and dousing are, the way Kristen Bell makes Elle look like a cornered animal reinforces the way the performances will always outshine the visual effects.
Helix Compound. Arthur apologizes to Mohinder for keeping him waiting. There's nothing remarkable about the dialogue, but the fact that Arthur bothered to apologize says something about his civility. As TV mastermind villains go, he's one of the politest.
Mohinder exposits about how his goal all along was to remove Maya's ability and "end her suffering." And, unwittingly, ours.
Then the show does it for us. It introduces a well-written, well-performed, charismatic and compelling character who invalidates five episodes of bug-related garbage by stepping in to take hold of Maya and sucking the suck right out. Which, as far as I'm concerned, makes Arthur the greatest hero this show ever created.
Arthur gets a little twinkle in the eyes and something resembling a smile. And again, I'm not sure what we're supposed to think when the megalomaniac villain turns out to be the most carefully-nuanced and human character on the show. That's not a mua-ha-ha smile -- that's an I've-just-done-a-good-deed smile. And I'll bet that detail wasn't in the script. That's an actor working with decent material and then making the character is own.
Arthur clarifies that he "take[s] it all and leave[s] nothing behind," effectively shutting down any hope fans had that Peter's abilities would pop back by the end of the next episode. Mohinder wants to know if he can lose the lizard-scales and peeling flesh but hold onto the speed and strength and wall-crawling and boundless energy and whoa, is it me, or does this completely contradict what Mohinder said NOT ONE SCENE EARLIER? Suddenly the research isn't about helping Maya, it's about imbuing himself with an ability without any side effects.
It would make sense if Mohinder's motive for wanting an ability was to defend people from monsters like Sylar, or if having an ability heightened his concentration and thought process enough to help develop a cure to lethal abilities like Maya's. The problem is the show couldn't even come up with a rationale like that, so we're stuck speculating about Mohinder's intentions, wondering if we're supposed to pity him for his plight or despise him for his recklessness. This is where the "character complication for the sake of drama" issue becomes relevant, because in an attempt to "complicate" Mohinder's character, the show ruined it. We have no idea who this character is anymore, and we have no idea what his core motives are.
Mohinder gets a look at the two halves of the Formula blueprint and asks if it's been successful. Given the way this Formula created wonderfully pretty supers like Nathan and Tracy, you have to wonder why Arthur would want Mohinder messing it up with scales and slime and cocoons. It could be that Pinehearst's bespectacled doctor has no idea what he's doing and that Victoria and Kaito were the only two who had any idea how The Formula worked. Or it could be that Arthur wants The Formula refined to produce specific abilities or speed up manifestation rates. Again, something that'll hopefully be developed.
Company Medical. Angela works some kind of paralysis-induced astral projection and appears in Sylar's head. Or Sylar bypasses the medically-induced coma and climbs into Angela's head. I'm not sure how this works. But Angela visits Sylar in his cell and tells him to help Peter, and Sylar's like, "Uh, yeah, HE'S THE REASON I'M LYING HERE -- not gonna happen, Ma!" Angela tells him to suck it up and "make Mommy proud" (actual dialogue), and that Sylar's her "favorite," which would probably carry more weight if she hadn't told Peter the same thing in "Don't Look Back."
In a sick, twisted, grotesque and abnormal way, it's the sweetest aww of the episode.
Canine Central. Elle reveals she's "overloading" and can't control her ability. It stands on its own in the episode as something that can't be explained and just is, but I wish we could have gotten a couple of lines to connect the storyline to the graphic novel this week. Given the episode's focus on several parents' dubious motives, it seems like Bob's death and Elle's issues over her upbringing could have been worked into the script quite easily.
Elle tells Claire she was counting on Noah for answers about Pinehearst. And given his wealth of knowledge about The Company and its members (barring the one who used to sign his checks), he'd probably know more about a rival company than anyone. And this is one of the big minus points to this episode, because all it would have taken to find out is one phonecall: "Dad, what do you know about Pinehearst? Can they be trusted? Can they help Elle regain control of her ability?" Or even a text message: "Dad: Pnhrst good, y/n? Also, L hr. Lyle zppd. Me OK. P.S. I still h8 u." Odds are Noah would have vetoed going anywhere near Pinehearst and Claire and Elle would have gone anyway, but at least they would have known what to expect.
Daphne struts into Helix Compound to hear the dreaded words, "You have a mess to clean up." I wonder how many times she'll hear that from Matt after Daniella's born. Arthur wonders if Daphne subconsciously discouraged Matt from joining Team Pinehearst, which perhaps gives too much credit to a guy who generally won't figure stuff out unless you explain it to him like you're talking to a three year old, but also raises the question of why Maury wasn't mind-reading Daphne throughout this scene. Maury's concern for Matt seems very sudden, especially when you recall that he nearly drove Matt and Nathan to kill one another, but if he covered for Daphne because he could hear she was trying to protect him, the about-turn in Maury's portrayal balances out the minor plot hole.
Maury stands up to the guy he was terrified of a couple of episodes ago, and ...
... goodbye, Maury. We hope to see you in many flashbacks.
Standing up to Arthur says a lot about how much Maury cared about his son. Trouble is, it's not the same character we saw last season -- the one who tricked his son into a deadly nightmare, who terrorized Angela and tortured Matt's foster daughter with debilitating nightmares. The nobility and sacrifice here would be affecting if we hadn't seen Maury try to kill Matt himself. It's not an impossible turnaround for the character, but the motive and rationale needed to be established for it to make sense. As it stands, it feels like a last-minute attempt to redeem Matt's father so that Daphne's revelation to Matt can be more poignant. Again, complication for the sake of drama. I'm not sure how we're expected to reconcile the character we saw last season with this one. Maury wasn't Noah: he didn't put his family before his job or his loyalties, and he didn't risk his life for his child.
Canine Central. Sandra gets the line of the night:
"'Pinehearst'? Sounds like a dishwasher liquid."
Claire explains there's something wrong with her which Dad can't fix ... so the solution is to visit a highly questionable chopshop organization that no one knows anything about -- and which Vortex Guy and psycho Puppet Guy were invited to join -- on the off-chance that the people there won't hack her to pieces, drain her blood and exploit her ability. This is indeed a sensible plan, and in no sane universe would Sandra ever oppose it. Worst case scenario: Claire and Elle go into Pinehearst and never come out. Best case scenario: Elle limits the Ellectrobolts to people who "deserve" them, and Claire screams with pain when she gets zapped instead of smiling with evil glee.
Chandra's Crib. The good news is the turtle's still alive. The bad news is it's bobbing its head up and down like an emo kid in a mosh pit, so I'm tempted to say this isn't the real turtle, but in fact a low-tech demonstration of Matt's ability to create illusions.
Was Brea Grant overacting when she pointed a gun at Matt? It depends on whether or not this is part of a plan that Arthur orchestrated, particularly after Maury got his neck snapped and Arthur realized he needed at least one mind-reader alive and working for Team Pinehearst. I'm going to go with the theory that Daphne was making everything up as she went along, and that a theatrical performance like this isn't so much a pretense as it is Daphne desperately trying to convince herself that her only option is to kill Matt. But that's mostly because when Daphne tells Matt to turn around so she can shoot him ...
... she tilts her head to the side and gets this pleading expression that's way too adorable to be a pretense.
Matt mind-reads the death of his dad and looks as affected by it as any son would be, even one who was tricked by his dad and forced to trap him in his own nightmare. I think there was a lot more to this particular father-son relationship to explore, but that might just be wishful thinking because Alan Blumenfeld played the few scenes he had as Maury so effectively.
Helix Compound. Peter asks his dad if he really thinks he's better than everyone else and has "the right to do whatever [he] want[s], to hurt anyone that gets in [his] way." I'm going to take that line as an intentional nod to Future-Peter doing exactly that, because then it underlines how the son becomes the father and makes the title a little more profound. But then Arthur gets this superb comeback:
"I am better, Peter. It's not a belief, it's a fact."
It's not the dialogue that makes it brilliant; it's what Forster does with it, and it reinforces why he was so well cast opposite Angela. Avoiding any inflection that turns it into a delusional declaration, Forster turns it into an off-hand observation. Like Cristine Rose, he makes irrational statements sound rational, and he captures to the minutest detail why a character like Arthur would have gathered a devout following.
Peter gets wheeled into the main lab, apparently because Papa Petrelli doesn't care if his son ends up with Fly-Mo scales and a slithering soundtrack. Peter faces Mohinder! It's a Battle of the Dumbest! Mohinder explains he's going to give Peter an ability-inducing serum ... Oh, Mohinder. Let's hope it's not superstrength and that Peter doesn't immediately bust his way out of restraints, kill you and go charging out of the building on a serial-killing rampage.
Peter: "I saw you in the future!"
Mohinder: "Really? What did I look like?"
Oh, Mohinder. Is this really the time? Beautiful! Just like today! Your legions of squeeing fans have grown to even mightier proportions!
Sylar shows up to TK Mohinder against a wall. Mohinder goes psycho on Sylar, and for the first time all season we get a part of Mohinder's storyline that's disturbing for the right reasons. As discomforting as it is to see him beating on Sylar, it makes sense, and I almost wish it had played out longer. Mohinder finally gets a chance to avenge Chandra's death, to take revenge on the way Sylar played him during the road trip to Montana and took Molly hostage and shot the woman he cares about. Mohinder's anger makes sense; the way he seizes the first opportunity he has to stand up to Sylar and make him pay makes sense; the near-hysteria Sendhil brings when Mohinder asks Arthur if he knows how many innocent people Sylar killed makes sense. Well written and well played throughout.
He intentionally left that until the last second, didn't he? Great entrance. I love how Coleman can own a scene with about five seconds of screen time and one line.
Nathan: "You!"
Yes, him! The one who tried to capture you in your pajamas!
Claire and Elle fly to New Jersey. Wouldn't it have been safer to take a car or a train, or to call Daphne and ask her to speedyzip them to the Helix Compound?
Claire sees Elle struggling to keep her ability under control and asks her in that sweet-to-the-point-of-being-totally-insincere voice whether everything's all right. If it was me, I would have been like, "Well, what the #*%@ do you think, pompom?" Elle's much nicer than I am and attributes the discomfort to being an "anxious flyer." Aww.
Claire looks like she's loving every moment of this: looking down on Elle, being the one in control, having a chance to gloat over one successful capture that her dad pretty much finished for her. Poor Elle concedes she wasn't a very good agent, which makes me sympathize with her even more, especially when it fuels Claire's overconfidence even further and gets her going on the whole "letting-the-Level-5-inmates-escape" issue. Again, if it was me, I'd b**chslap Claire and be all, "Yeah? Well, who gave Sylar the instaheal power that let him get past Company agents with tasers and scalp my dad? How do you like having that on your conscience?" But again, Elle's surprisingly restrained and settles with telling Claire to shut up.
Am I the only one who picked up on a sisterly vibe between these two? I think the secret-family-ties device has run its course on the show, at least for this season, but if they ever decide to make Elle and Claire related, the bond you pick up on in this scene would justify it. The bickering and the tension play out believably, but there also seems to be an implicit understanding between them.
Elle goes Ellectric and ends up using Claire as a conduit to channel her energy feed into. It is a neat idea and it is well executed, even if the set-up with the plane feels contrived. As before, though, you'd think Claire would be smoldering from something like that.
Chandra's Crib. Knox shows up and snaps Daphne's neck as she tries to escape. I have to say right now, this entire scene blew me away because I didn't see the twist coming at all.
Grunberg makes a valiant attempt to look intimidating, but it's less successful than it was in "Five Years Gone." It's partly undermined by the actor's boyish good looks; unlike Milo and Adrian, who slipped into villainous or shady personalities relatively easily, it looked like Grunberg was struggling to get behind the darker side of his character in this scene. I hope he gets more of a chance to play that side of the character, if only because it'll be an interesting challenge for the actor when he needs to overcome the fact that we can't help looking at him like a giant teddy we want to hug.
Then ...
And that fooled me completely. No joke. I sat bolt upright, my notes fell out of my lap, and I started to wonder how I could have missed the part in the spoiler forums about MATT GETTING KILLED OFF.
Foooooooooled you!
Well played, show.
And aww, even if, looking back, you can't be sure if she genuinely wanted to peck him on the cheek or whether it was part of the act she's giving because Arthur told her to.
Helix Compound. Flint tells Arthur the building is sealed tight. Maya wheels a suitcase out of the front entrance in the next scene, so I have to question that, but never mind. Sylar hovering several feet in the air was a nice touch; overly theatrical, but the kind of thing Sylar would have done to his own victims if he wanted to taunt and humiliate them. As uneven as several character arcs turned out this week, this episode does a remarkable job of asserting that Sylar is indeed a Petrelli. This scene gives a great sense of how alike Sylar and Arthur are, in the way the dialogue bounces back and forth between them and in the way they try to outmaneuver one another. Sylar insists that Angela accepts him for who he is, and Arthur gets this "Pfft! Whatever you need to tell yourself!" expression. Sylar insists that Angela loves him, but the tone says, "I want to believe it, please reassure me." The magic isn't in the dialogue so much as the delivery, and for whatever reason, putting these two actors together generated one of the strongest scenes all season.
Arthur reveals that Angela tried to drown Sylar when he was born. Assuming Arthur's telling the truth -- and he'd have no reason to make something like that up -- it at least partially explains how Sylar ended up as a member of the Gray family, and why there was never any fear of him discovering he had an ability. Presumably Angela hoped Sylar would live out a normal life devoid of serial killing, and that an ability as complex as intuitive aptitude wouldn't manifest without a specific catalyst like some idiot barging into Sylar's life and saying, "Hey, come be a superpowered superstar -- unlock your potential!" Looking back, you realize just how gargantuan a cosmic screw-up Chandra caused with that little one-man quest.
Arthur releases Sylar from the TK-harness. Awesome. Partly for the thud as Sylar hits the ground, because it drives home how far Sylar's aspirations of being a favorite son have fallen; but also because Arthur obviously realized he'd broken Sylar's resolve. Which is why Arthur can now ...
... extend a hand to help him up, and at the same time make it a gesture of friendship and family and trust and respect -- none of which actually exist between these two.
Love how he keeps his arms against his chest, like he's hoping it'll mask his vulnerability or protect him from any other bombs Arthur's planning to drop. Everything about this scene sparkled, but the physical performance and the mannerisms from Zach and Forster were remarkable.
I'm not sure why I found this so amusing. Part of it's Peter's dim expression, but it's mostly the idea that an organization with corrupt superpowered ties would have this neat directory to guide its escaped test subjects. Even the Primatech Fun Factory didn't have that.
That image works on so many levels, it's not even funny. Just take the money and go, Maya.
"Is this how it ends for us? You know that business with the cocoon came from a place of love. You know that, right? I gave you everything, Maya. That thorough examination you asked for, my entire storyline this season, my apron last season ..."
"Yeah, well, you know ... Sometimes these things don't work out. I'm sure there's another guy out there who'll shoot me or put me in a cocoon or some other bizarre thing like that ..."
"I have to know, Maya: was he better than me?"
"You really need to hear it to move on? You need me to tell you that you were special and he meant nothing to me? That I wasn't thinking of him every moment I was with you, even after he killed my brother? I'd be lying to myself ... and so would you."
"Yeah? Well, on a scale of one to ten, my fans would give me an eight. I'm awesome. And pretty. What do you think your fans would say about you?"
"That's so unfair, Mohinder! I only joined the show in the second season, and it was a truncated season! There was no way I was going to win as many fans as you did!"
"Well, there goes the only woman who ever cooked me chilaquiles and made me bleed from the eyes ..."
Goodbye, Maya! I want to say I'll miss you, but you know I'd be lying. You had some thankless material and made the most of it, and although I'm struggling to recall a single memorable moment right now, the Crying & Dying Routine was very dramatic ... the first time.
All together now, one last time:
"ALEJAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANDROOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Peter returns to Arthur's office inside the Helix Compound and finds Sylar lounging on a couch with his arm draped around it.
Peter: "What are you doing just sitting here? Did he take your powers?"
^ ^ Actual dialogue!
Sylar: "This is what I have to do."
Interestingly, there's no elaboration on what "this" involves, so I'm still leaning towards the theory that Sylar's playing Arthur rather than being fooled by him, particularly after Arthur tells Sylar revenge is in their blood, and after the Look of Crafty Scheming Sylar gets in response.
Claire and Elle reach the Helix Compound.
It's a surprisingly sweet moment between the characters. Even after Elle abandons Peter and Claire, you get the sense that a bond formed between them. If Kristen Bell's stint on the show wasn't so brief, I'd say I hope we see the friendship between them develop.
Awesome stunt. The overhead shots look a little too CG, as do the shards of glass, but this shot was flawless, and on a level with Peter getting pushed off a rooftop in "Distractions."
Elle hears Peter telling Claire that his ability's gone, decides she's willing to overlook the "getting-thrown-out-of-a-seventh-story-window" part, and leaves Peter and Claire to their fate. And as reprehensible as that would usually be ...
... Kristen does the same thing here that she did in "The Butterfly Effect" after Bob was killed. Elle's expression conveys how confused she is about what she's supposed to be feeling, and you can buy it because she has so little experience outside of Company missions and doesn't know what she's supposed to do in a situation like this.
Apartment of Clairvoyance. We see the abusive neighbor being led out on a stretcher by Company agents. It's unclear whether he survived. Tragically, I think it's accurate to say that absolutely no one cares.
Tracy gets a bouquet for untangling the connection between Meredith, Nathan and Noah. While the whole scene is as entertainingly awkward as it should be, I can't help wishing we could have gotten a little more dialogue between Nathan and Noah. Given that this is one of the few occasions when they've shared a scene, it would have been interesting to see a little more dialogue -- about anything -- between Claire's two fathers.
Peter, Nathan, Claire and Tracy gather at the Apartment of Hospice Luxury. Claire notices Tracy and gives her a looooong and meeeeeaningful stare. It might be because she doesn't like having a conversation about parents returning from the dead with a total stranger, or it might be because Claire uncovered something in the Primatech files about Barbara. You'd think Noah would have gotten the same suspicious look if that had been the case, but then, Noah's much better at playing his cards close to the chest, so it could be he made the connection and let it slide.
Nathan discovers his father's alive.
Underplayed? It's not like it's a straitjacketed performance from Adrian, and it's not like I would have expected Nathan to fall onto his knees or start bawling, but somehow the guy showed a little too much restraint over the news. Was he angry over Arthur deceiving the family? Was he too shocked to formulate a coherent reaction? Was he going to kick the doors down at Pinehearst because he wanted to give Arthur a piece of his mind, or because he wasn't going to let anything stand in the way of finding out if his hero was really still alive? Probably answers we'll get within a few episodes, but it seemed like a deliberately cryptic reaction for the sake of postponing the drama until a following episode.
Desert of Clairvoyance. We learn that Usutu's thousand-year-old mystery goop consists of tree root and hyena dung. Charming. And intriguing, because at this point I'm starting to wonder if Usutu actually has Isaac's clairvoyance, or whether he's a regular guy who eats lots of goop and listens to the right auditory accompaniment and doesn't need an ability in the first place. It seems like an ability that doesn't require a superpowered serum and has nothing to do with adrenal glands, lineage or DNA sequencing. It's just a glorified magic trick.
Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it underlines how the conventions of the story are being rewritten -- or at least substantially amended -- in favor of the current predicament the characters find themselves in. If that means turning irredeemable nightmare men into loving fathers on a whim, or mild-mannered scientists into cocoon-building monsters and then back into misguided-but-fundamentally-well-intentioned lovers in order to fit the story, that's what the show's going to do. Some of it's working fine: Arthur shows a staggering level of complexity and humanity, Elle's confusion and despair offset her willingness to zap everything in sight very elegantly, and even Sylar's ambiguity as the unexpected hero duping his father to help his mother comes across as convincing and compelling.
But when characters' motives seem to change from week to week, and when the show's focus on ulterior motives leads to behavior ranging from unexpected to out-of-character, the show's essentially asking its viewers to take a leap of faith and trust it'll all make sense in the end. As much as you want to believe the characters will rediscover themselves, and as much as you want to believe the show that created the characters remembers who they were to begin with, it's hard not to wonder whether ambiguity is masking inconsistency.
3.5 out of 5]]>
... even something as simple as that conveys something about the character. For all the antagonism between Daphne and Hiro, Daphne's expression here implies she looked up to Hiro for his principles, and that her illusion of Hiro as incorruptible has now been shattered. She's in the same boat as most of us.
Hiro's slow on the uptake but finally gets a smile of nostalgia when he makes the connection between Usutu and Meester Eeezuk. Which is kind of cold when you recall that Isaac -- as far as Hiro knows -- is still waiting for someone to find his scalpless corpse at the Apartment of Clairvoyance.
Daphne speedyzips away and Hiro gives Ando a gentle kick to let him know he can breathe.
Hiro: "Now you know how it feels to be killed by your best friend."
Ando: "Good, so we're even."
Am I the only one who was bothered by this? We went through four episodes of Hiro holding a grudge against Ando for stabbing him in the future and Ando holding a grudge against Hiro for something he hadn't even done yet -- and here it's almost played for laughs. Ando telling Hiro that they're even dignifies Hiro's resentment -- a resentment that was unfounded to begin with -- but it also implies that the payback for an Ellectro-zapping in the future is a fake-killing in the present. Somehow, it seemed like this scene was trying to neatly resolve the animosity between Hiro and Ando. It's a relief to see Hiro and Ando get over their mistrust because it was getting old fast, but at the same time it would have been good to see their friendship renewed in a way that didn't trivialize the tension between them since the premiere.
Canine Central. We have what's essentially the same scene as last week with the dialogue and reactions assigned to different characters. Claire gets Sandra's dialogue and panics over the danger that Meredith's in, Sandra exudes Meredith's rationality, Claire gets ready to charge to the rescue the way Sandra wanted to last week, and Sandra does what she should have done last week when the superpowered one gets ready to ditch her at home again -- she insists on joining the rescue effort. Which is in character, even if it never seemed like Sandra liked Meredith all that much, but also makes Sandra even more awesome, because Ashley Crow pulls it off in a way that doesn't make Sandra look cocky or arrogant so much as resolute and determined.
We cut to "Doyle's Marionette Theatre," which is established by the chyron AND by the big-ass sign outside the building, and kind of makes me wonder whether The Company thought to check for its escaped Level 5 inmates at their homes and workplaces. In any case, psychotic torture games aside, this is one gorgeous set. Between this and the way the Lair of Clairvoyance has pretty much been webbed into one giant cocoon this week, Ruth Ammon really deserves another nomination by the Art Directors Guild for this episode.
Doyle: "Meredith Gordon, as God is my witness, I'm going to make you love me again."
The "again" raises several questions. He's probably deluding himself, but you do wonder for a moment whether it was Doyle's puppeteering or Meredith's loose morals that led to there ever being a perceived "first time" between them.
Kudos to David H Lawrence, because in spite of the way he plays Doyle as deranged and grotesque for the majority of this episode, the switch he manages -- from hopeless kid with a crush to perverse torturer -- brings the full horror of these scenes to life. The smile and spark in his eyes in this first scene resemble something bordering on human feeling -- just enough for you to imagine this monster growing up. You can see Doyle being the loser who was bullied for being fat, and you can see Meredith being the unattainable beauty queen who made the mistake of feeling sorry for Doyle and saying "hi" to him just once. And when you see Doyle in this episode telling Meredith about his fantasy wedding, you can almost imagine how, under different circumstances and if Meredith was sufficiently drunk, that kind of naive childish excitement might have seemed endearing.
Or not. Mostly he's just a lunatic and you wonder how Meredith could have fallen for this guy without him controlling her.
Meredith threatens to kill Doyle if he doesn't let her go, which, coming from Meredith, is quite believable. And after this ...
... I was surprised Meredith was able to hold herself back and not seize the first opportunity she had to torch the guy. In this instance, after entrapment and self-mutilation and forcing a mother to shoot her daughter, it seemed like a retribution that most of the characters -- and most of the audience -- would have understood.
Knox brings Adam to the Helix Compound and lets the guy worry over his reputation. Which, looking back, becomes even funnier when you realize he's about to have the life sucked out of him. But it's also a little sad that David Anders came back for barely one episode and managed to pull off Adam's transition from manipulative menace to lovable rogue so effectively.
Adam realizes that Arthur's still alive -- and, like everything relating to the ElderSupers, it screams THERE IS A FRICKIN' GOLDMINE OF A BACKSTORY HERE AND WILL YOU GUYS PLEASE JUST TELL IT ALREADY?!
Is killing off Adam a wasted opportunity? It depends on your fondness for the character and how far you saw his potential to drive the plot, particularly in the shadow of a guy who's evidently going to out-menace both Adam and Sylar as the show's central villain. I saw it more as the show making a statement: that for once it isn't going to drag out a character's storyline just because he's played by a talented actor who's available and beloved by the fanbase.
Unbelievably cool. One of the best effects the show has come up with. Smooth, progressive and completely believable: you can see the flesh dissolving before the skeleton starts to crumble away. And, sure, you could bash the science of it by arguing that the show exchanged plausibility for coolness: with Adam's regeneration gone, it would have made more sense for his cells to now start ageing normally and for Adam to live out a mortal life until someone came along and stabbed or poisoned or beat him to death. But sometimes the effect is such that you forgive plausibility in favor of what was an unashamed wow factor.
Aaaand opening sequence, and JFK, and Turtle Rendezvous. Sweet love awaits!
Daphne dumps her Pinehearst files in the trash and gets ready to run. It's really not clear to me what's stopping her. Unless Team Pinehearst has the SuperGPS Molly Whammy working for them, I don't see why racing back to the CG Eiffel Tower and using her earnings to buy one of these isn't an option for Daphne.
Specter-Linderman shows up to dissuade Daphne from the chateau. Daphne laments how she corrupted "a good guy" and turned him into a murderer.
Specter-Linderman: "You've done so much for us, we've done so much for you ..."
Sometimes I feel bad for Malcolm McDowell. I mean, this? And "No pain, no gain"? ... is some unforgivably thankless dialogue he's been given. I choose to believe that Maury's forcing Specter-Linderman to deliver this godawful material at Arthur's behest, and that, behind the scenes, they're both giggling like schoolgirls while they get the former Company boss to sing nursery rhymes.
We get a glimpse of Maury a few feet away, and his expression when he sees Matt is ...
... one of regret? Like, "That's my son over there, and I'm not angry that he trapped me in my own nightmare. I'm just sorry I can't go over there and give him a big hug. One that won't suck his abilities right out of him!" For a character as cryptic as Maury, it's a surprisingly troubled look.
Matt comes down the escalator with the turtle in a cage -- which, aww -- and runs through his checklist of things to do: "Find Daphne, save her life, get her to fall in love with me ... check that Molly's safe, catch up with Mohinder, call the ex-wife to see how her and the kid are doing, let Barry Shabaka Henley know I'm OK, stop that b*****d Future-Peter from teleporting anyone else to an African desert ... What am I forgetting? I know I'm forgetting something! Oh, crap -- I NEED TO STOP THAT EXPLOSION THAT KILLS 200,000 PEOPLE!"
Let's assume he was either thinking of all of those things or that it was just cut for dialogue. It doesn't really matter when Matt and Daphne meet, because who cares if the romance makes no sense? Turtle, let the sweet romance begin!
They get a little table for themselves and the turtle. Daphne recounts Matt's life story, which is intended to show that Team Pinehearst knows everything about Matt, but more importantly:
She understands him! Matt's bowled over by how much this beautiful, young, nubile woman understands him -- more than that old trollop Janice ever did!
She sees him for who he is! This is a meaningful bond betwixt minds!
But then, alas, the revelation! This isn't about them? She is too dear for possessing! Sweet love, thou hast been thwarted!
Matt ineptly describes the "dream" that was "real," and the turtle in the dream, and how he and Daphne were soul mates. And the turtle's like, "Don't drag me into this! Use the Bard! Win her over with poetry!"
Daphne dismisses Matt as a stalker and speedyzips away, then speedyzips back when Matt tells her about Daniella. A-ha! The turtle was right! From fairest creatures we desire increase, that thereby beauty's rose might never die!
Daphne asks Matt to park his ass in the airport for the rest of the day, which he immediately agrees to. Let this sad interim like the ocean be which parts the shore!
Fresh from the revelation that they were human experiments, Nathan and Tracy visit the Apartment of Clairvoyance to solicit Mohinder's expert medical opinion. Mohinder's like, "I'm relieved to see you're OK, Niki -- oh, #%@*! I just remembered how I found a cure to your lethal virus but got distracted and left you dying in New Orleans! Where's my mind been these last few days?"
Nathan tells Mohinder that Tracy's not Niki. Tracy tells Mohinder that Niki was her sister and that she's not Niki. Mohinder asks Tracy if she's telling him she's not Niki.
Oh, I give up.
*PING!*
DUMB AS PETER! And from now on, ANYONE who needs to be told twice that this woman is not Niki gets an award.
Tracy selects the most expensive-looking piece of equipment in the lab to demonstrate her ability on, which should cause Mohinder immense anguish but results in ...
... an insane smile. Mohinder is animated, excited, entranced at the possibilities. Frankly, I feel all of those things in almost equal measure because we finally get to see some kind of reaction from him. After episodes in which it was impossible to tell if he felt anything, there's finally an indication that Normal Mohinder's still in there. Which is reassuring, if a little vilifying for a character who was apparently in control of his actions when he cocooned his neighbor and new love interest, and when he now jabs Tracy and Nathan with needles and watches them collapse while he stands there with arms folded.
The sad part is the dialogue and drama in this scene explain why Mohinder's story thread is useless all by themselves: everything about it is being done somewhere else on the show -- and more effectively. Tracy tells Mohinder there's a scientist out there who knows how to do what Mohinder's trying to do -- without rattlesnake sound effects as an accompaniment to the results. We know there's a woman currently in a comatose state who's racked with guilt over what she inflicted on the people she tested on -- without elaborate cocoons built around them. And we now know there's a badass villain out there who can suck people's abilities right out of them, either robbing them of a gift or liberating them from a curse.
Pretty much every aspect of Mohinder's storyline duplicates what's being done elsewhere on the show. It's intended to emphasize the parallels and ties between the story threads, but it ends up making Mohinder's story look more redundant than ever.
Daphne visits The Basement to spring Flint and Sylar out. She mentions security, but besides a couple of angry voices before she speedyzips Flint away, it doesn't look like anyone actually works at The Company anymore. We can assume that either Arthur gave Daphne the access codes she'd need to reach Level 5, or that it's relatively easy to waltz into a top-secret bunker and let the world's most vicious superpowered criminals out.
What kind of psychoanalytical profiles are in these folders that Daphne's being given? Whatever information she has, she seems to know exactly what to tell her assignments in order to sway them: she taps into Matt's lack of career fulfillment, she promises Sylar a boss who'll accept him the way he is, and she guarantees Mohinder the scientific answers he's looking for. If the profiles she's been given don't come with a section titled "Say THIS To Persuade Them," Daphne's remarkably perceptive when it comes to telling prospective candidates for Team Pinehearst exactly what they want to hear.
Sylar resists the temptation to scalp this superpowered vixen, choosing instead to convey that he is Very Conflicted before he visits the Midas Study, finds Mama Petrelli with an open folder displaying Papa Petrelli's profile (the way she was before Arthur worked the Nightmare Paralysis on her), transports her to Company Medical and wakes up Peter.
All of which symphonically assert that Sylar is A Nice Guy. At this point, you either believe it or you don't. The fact that Sylar chooses to stay where he is, tries to make Angela comfortable when he can't help her and risks another broken neck from his out-of-control brother in order to find out what's wrong with their mother is probably about as convincing an argument as the show could make that Sylar has reformed.
Hiro and Ando teleport to the Desert of Clairvoyance. Ando has changed out of his fake-bloodied shirt, but the replacement's surprisingly understated, particularly after some of the sharp suits we saw Ando wearing last season. Since they're traveling to a hot climate and Hiro clearly has no compunction about stealing when it suits The Greater Good, I think we should have seen Ando opting to expand his horizons with something like this.
Hiro finds the painting of Matt holding Daphne in his arms and wonders why the guy looks so familiar, apparently forgetting the time they worked together to stop Peter and Adam, and the time this guy tortured him in an obsolete future. But, hey, "They all look the same to me"? It is funny, if only as a jab at the number of times viewers confused D.L. with the Haitian.
Ando voices his reluctance over kidnapping "an innocent man" just to retrieve Papa Sulu's half of The Formula. Which again goes to show how Ando keeps everything in perspective while Hiro bumbles through every obstacle he encounters, but also makes you wonder whether it wouldn't be easier for Hiro to teleport to the moment Ando walked into Papa Sulu's office and simply instruct Ando not to let his friend open the safe. If he trusted Ando to die convincingly, he can trust him to curb Hiro's obsession with adventure just once.
Or, you know, teleport to the Helix Compound, discover the identity of The Boss, then teleport back to the Midas Study to tell anyone who isn't comatose that they need to be very, very afraid.
Ando gets the Doubtful Face. We all do. But as with the other weaker elements of this episode, it's immediately effaced by something so sublime in its awesomeness that it's hard to care.
That?... is the most awesome screensaver ever. Even better than Adam choking the life out of Hiro last week.
No, wait: this is even better. Could someone loop this moment, add in the "BONK!" sound effect and put it on YouTube? Because this is so hilariously therapeutic I could watch it all day.
Ando -- again loyal to a fault -- waits with his friend until Hiro regains consciousness. Interestingly, someone seems to have laid out a blanket where Hiro's lying. I can't figure out if that's Ando being an amazing friend or Usutu trying to alleviate his guilt over the fun he's having thwacking Hiro.
Hiro -- now apparently suffering from a concussion and plunged to depths of dumbness no one ever knew he could reach -- lets Ando furnish him with a plan: teleport to one minute before he originally tried to ambush Usutu and take Usutu by surprise.
"One Minute Before Hiro Got Hit"? Funny. Mostly because the chyron gives this crazy plan an undeserved level of dignity, but also because it's so spontaneous, and because we wonder why Hiro never tried something like this before.
Cute. I love how Usutu paints himself holding the shovel like a baseball bat, and the wide-eyed cluelessness he gives Hiro.
Hiro gets the "Oh no!" look of dismay. You know you should object to the fact that Hiro isn't fast enough to stop time, but you can forgive his ineptitude after the first blow to the head ...
... and now you pretty much have to forgive ANYTHING Hiro does, because, damn, this is going to have lasting repercussions.
Daphne speedyzips back to JFK, as near as I can tell just to make sure her sweet poetry-quoting turtle is still waiting for her. He is. Daphne then speedyzips to the Apartment of Clairvoyance to hand Mohinder an invite to the Helix Compound. It seems Team Pinehearst is after Mohinder's research, database and contacts. I didn't realize he had any of those things, just an outdated list of names and a microscope. The rest of it's Company property.
Should Daphne have done something to help Tracy and Nathan? She sees them tied up, tells Mohinder he's a jerk and then ... leaves. I guess she's following her instructions to the letter and not getting involved in the shadiness she comes across, but you would've thought she'd at least use her speed to untie the poor suckers.
Claire and Sandra pull up outside a building with a giant sign that reads "DOYLE'S MARIONETTE THEATRE." Seriously: no one at The Company thought to look here?
Sandra advocates a plan. Claire advocates rushing in. I'm starting to think Sandra would make an outstanding Company agent, and that the reason Claire ends up joining Pinehearst is because The Company refuses to recruit anyone so reckless.
Having happily tasered a guy who had no hostages last week, I'm not sure why Claire pauses for such an abnormal length of time before shooting Doyle. It might be that she wasn't sure she could reverse Doyle's hold on Meredith if he was unconscious, but even then, you have to figure it's something Claire could worry about after she'd stunned Doyle and tied him to a chair.
*PING!*
Claire gets a Dumb As Peter Award for exercising made-for-TV hesitation.
The Russian roulette scene starts out phenomenal and ends up predictable. Out of context, it's a scene that flies on the strength of the performances. In context, it's a scene that relies on the performances when it should have been supported by tension arising from the predicament.
Claire's torn up, Doyle's loving every moment of it, and we're left wondering if the show's about to chalk up another death next to Adam's. Even after it turns out to be an empty cylinder, you're left reeling from the tension because the prospect of Claire shooting her bio-mom carried real weight.
Then it stops being about the predicament and falls back on the performances. Props to Ashley and Hayden for selling this scene, because:
Sandra's a wreck, even knowing her daughter's going to survive after she gets shot.
And Claire's torn up over having to watch her mom pull the trigger on her own child.
Out of context, it tears you up. It's horrifying, it's tragic, and it continues to bridge the transition from Claire to Future-Claire, because you figure a big reason she becomes so messed up is situations like this: where she's powerless, vulnerable, begging for mercy and watching people she cares about tortured and killed by creeps which The Company's too ineffectual and incompetent to stop.
If you put it into context, the scene loses almost all of its impact: Claire's been shot before -- we've seen it, Sandra's seen it, and Meredith's probably shrewd enough to have figured it out. So it's not like there's any real tension behind this scene -- the only person who doesn't know how it's going to end is Doyle, and the only thing driving the scene forward is the power of the actors. Which is incredibly powerful, but it's not something the show should rely on in the absence of any real tension. The outcome is so predictable that the tension evaporates and you're left waiting for the scene to reach its foregone conclusion.
Sandra's hand trembles as she pulls the trigger, Doyle gives this little sigh of delight as he tells the surviving women how much "fun" that was, and we're reminded that, for all of the show's preoccupation with moral ambiguity and redemption, there are characters who can't be humanized, and there are characters who sadistically delight in inflicting pain and suffering for their own sake. And even though this scene lacked the impact it should have had, it's disturbing enough to make us challenge why Meredith waited for Noah to show up and tranquilize Doyle instead of setting him alight the moment she was free.
Meredith gushes with praise over how "amazing" Claire was and how she "saved" them and how all of her "heart" comes from Sandra. I can't help finding this a little false because Claire going mercenary is the reason they ended up trapped here in the first place, and hesitating to taser Doyle is what led to the Russian roulette predicament, and telling Sandra to shoot her isn't so much about "heart" as it is about trademark Crafty Bennet Scheming.
Noah learns that Claire apprehended Doyle and gets this priceless "WTF?!" expression, then claims that Claire has "the wrong idea" about him. This not long after she watched him tell a guy to kill or be killed. I think Claire has the right idea, but I'm still surprised she didn't emulate her father when it came to the killing part, because, really, this is one instance where it would have been justified.
Meredith becomes a Company Woman. On the one hand, woohoo; on the other, Noah now has three partners to choose from.
Sylar makes Angela comfortable at Company Medical, visits Peter in The Basement, wakes Peter from his chemically-induced coma, then accompanies Peter to Company Medical to worry over Mama Petrelli. As far as I can tell, throughout this entire sequence of events, NO ONE attempts to stop two Level 5 inmates while they're roaming the Company facility, transporting the head of the organization from one end of the building to another and accessing restricted areas with classified files. Just saying -- if this place does have security, they all deserve to be fired.
Sylar laments that their comatose mom is "the only person who ever accepted [him] for what [he] is," and Zach Quinto's sincerity when he delivers that line is so convincing that the show seems to be trying harder than ever to make you believe he means it.
Peter reads Angela's mind, scrawls the double-helix onto the nearest scrap of paper and resolves to go after whoever's responsible for putting his mom in this state, which makes him angry enough to give Sylar the super-smackdown when he gets in the way.
I'd be surprised if we see an effects extravaganza like this again anytime soon. You have to figure the show borrowed the budget from several upcoming episodes, probably banking on the fact that Papa Petrelli is way too cool to show off any of the abilities he usurped from his boy, and therefore that no one's really going to use any of these effects on-screen for a while. It's a beautifully-executed scene, but also a surprisingly brutal and disturbing one, particularly for the way it's now hammering home a role reversal that pitches Sylar as the pacifist victim and Peter as the belligerent wildcard.
I feel sorry for Nathan for missing out on all this. It's not like he's missing any deep emotional attachment, but it's as if he's been shunted onto the periphery of the storyline without even knowing Sylar's his brother, and the way he's been forgotten while Peter and Sylar duke it out makes it look like he's been marginalized as Peter's brother in favor of Sylar. The brotherly drama feels incomplete.
Apartment of Clairvoyance. Mohinder is suddenly imbued with Maya's Five Facets of Character. Tracy manages to tap into [Facet #3] guilt by telling him she knows what he's thinking, then [Facet #1] fear as she prompts him into admitting that it "all got out of control" and was "so unnecessary." I personally feel that cocooning Maya was entirely necessary and possibly the best creative decision the show will make all season, but that's beside the point. The point is that Tracy now taps into [Facet #4] naive infatuation, luring Mohinder into holding her hand in a Moment of Quiet Solidarity.
"Foooooooooled you!"
I think I just fell in love with Tracy all over again. That was so awesomely devious. Dumb-As-Mohinder Mohinder earns a
*PING!*
Dumb As Peter Award for letting himself be played.
Tracy freezes her way out of the restraints. Neat touch, and a resourceful use of her ability. Tracy and Nathan then dodge a flying table, which is kind of hilarious, but also signals the onset of Mohinder's [Facet #5] anger. With Maya stuck in a cocoon, Mohinder has undertaken immense emotive versatility. It's preferable to not knowing whether it's really Mohinder and whether he's feeling anything at all, but it would have been nice to know what Mohinder's actually trying to achieve by putting his test subjects in cocoons and sticking needles into them. This storyline feels predicated on the horror of its central character turning into a mutant rather than on any coherent idea or outcome. We don't know what it's about or where it's going, and, perhaps more alarmingly, we don't really care.
Turtle Rendezvous. Matt and his poetic companion wait until night. Daphne speedyzips in to tell Matt that he wouldn't fit in with Team Pinehearst. This in spite of the fact that Matt has a history of theft, coercion, manipulating people into doing what he wants and cheating his way into getting what he wants. I'd say he's ideal material, but that's me. Daphne tells him he wouldn't be among good people, and that he seems like a sweet guy. Sweet love, renew they force! She has no idea that Matt once forced a little girl to finish her cereal against her will! Tis better to be vile than vile-esteem'd!
Matt warns Daphne that, someday, Pinehearst will get her killed. Her and about 199,199 other people. Dammit, Matt, FOCUS!
The issue of what Team Pinehearst has over Daphne comes up, and judging from Daphne's expression here ...
... it's something pretty darn big. I love how Brea Grant can make us want to know her whole backstory with a single look.
Desert of Clairvoyance. Do you think Hiro and Ando waited for the sun to go down, or did they cheat and teleport a few hours forward in time?
Usutu reveals he was testing Hiro to help him rely less on his ability and more on his common sense. This strikes me as hopeless, but well done to Usutu for trying. I have several entertaining screensavers because of it.
It looks like Arthur, Knox and Flint, but the guy at the top right could be anyone. He's got Sylar's bushy eyebrows but Peter's iron jaw. And the crinkle in the forehead might be Future-Peter's scar or it might just be a crinkle in the forehead. And the mustache and the goatee are probably just creative liberties which Usutu took while Hiro was unconscious. It's a shame Usutu couldn't provide more of a commentary to this gallery he set up in the desert.
Helix Compound. Peter teleports to the entrance and activates the Doctor Fantastic invisibility. This effects bonanza is delightful, but I can't help thinking it only came about because either (a) the show realized it was going to save a fortune over the next few episodes and decided to blow its FX budget in one go, or (b) the prospect of Peter losing his abilities prompted the writers to consider how many abilities they've been underutilizing all this time.
Arthur: "The bad guys are here."
Perfect delivery. As great as the casting was when it came to Zach Quinto and David Anders, this scene is an indication that casting Robert Forster was the show hitting a jackpot.
Papa Petrelli harps on about how he's looking at "criminals" and "villains." As if on cue, Peter barges in, hands sizzling. Nicely done, show -- are you ditching the subtlety altogether? Why not have a neon sign over his head?
"Dad? How's this possible? You're dead!"
Good! Well done, Peter! Keep going! Shapeshifter? Illusionist? Time-traveler? Regenerative healer? Whichever it is, he has unsavory associates and he's connected to whatever put Angela into her current state!
To be fair, it's an emotional moment. Peter's confused, he's overwhelmed with shock and relief and joy to discover that his dad's alive, and Milo plays the moment extremely well. But come on -- this is what the Dumb As Peter was invented for.
*PING!*
Do NOT hug the guy just because he looks like your father, Peter!
Peter gets the look of a frightened kid who wants to bury himself in his dad's arms and close his eyes and hope all the bad in the world goes away. As dumb as Peter is for actually doing that in this instance, it's well played, and it demonstrates what this show does best: family drama in the foreground with superpowers in the background.
Robert Forster slips out of the off-the-charts menace and into this disarmingly warm dear-old-dad persona that completely ... and utterly ... fools his own son.
And Peter's multiplicity of abilities comes to an end? Well done, show! Did not see that coming. Maybe I'm cynical, but I saw several seasons of amnesia, bodyswapping and idiocy holding Peter back, and this is SO much better.
Will Peter get his abilities back? Did he only lose the abilities he absorbed, or did he lose the empathic mimicry itself? Has Arthur helped Peter in a roundabout way by removing The Hunger along with Sylar's intuitive aptitude? Perhaps more importantly, is it a blessing in disguise if Arthur just dethroned the close-to-omnipotent superhero of the show and gave the closest thing it has to a protagonist the opportunity to develop as a character?
All questions we're left asking, but the best questions we could be asking. Instead of questions borne out of plot holes or inconsistencies or weak storylines, they're questions that invite us to continue watching. Bringing Arthur back was always an inevitable plot device that you knew the show would resort to eventually, but making him the one to drain Peter's abilities doesn't feel contrived so much as fateful. The way Forster plays him, Arthur's a villain who scares the bejesus out of us even without abilities, and with Sylar becoming a murky hero and Adam getting dusted, the show has created its ultimate villain -- one whose villainy emerges out of innate menace and charisma. Given the predominant theme of the volume, the fact that the villain turns out to be the original hero's father seems like a fateful and fitting irony.
I'm docking minor points for the Mohinder storyline, which needs to find some kind of direction because it's dragging the rest of the show down, and for the Doyle storyline, which started out well but ended up feeling predictable and losing the tension it should have had.
Otherwise, outstanding, and a promising sign of where the show might be going.
4 out of 5]]>
... whose eyes are looking predatory. Great performance from Sendhil this week, from the eyes and the wary crouch when he's standing here to the confident stride at the lab later on.
We return to The Basement, where Sylar gets throttled by Peter and ends up getting his neck snapped. You'd think Peter's second murder in two episodes would warrant a little more impact, but since the first murder took place in the future and this one involves a serial-killing supervillain who can instaheal from the injury, it's less impactful than it is comic. As with Future-Nathan casually pulling up a chair next to his dead brother's body in the future, you have to wonder if two near-invulnerable brothers snapping one another's necks will become a regular occurrence.
Angela rushes into the cell to reason with Peter.
We get several shots conveying the onset of both Peter's inevitable descent into villainy and Milo's contractual obligation to be shirtless as often as possible. This combination both repels and delights squeeing fangirls everywhere, but also has a certain theatrical merit: corrupted by The Hunger, Milo has a chance to play a darker personality without relying on Future-Peter's scar, leather jacket or husky growl; and somehow playing a darker side without those frills comes across as more menacing. When he's inches away from his mother and threatening to kill her, the horror becomes more visceral and immediate than Future-Peter pulling on a hat and shooting his brother at a distance.
Does Peter mind-read Angela in this scene? It's not clear whether Angela's blocking Peter's attempt the way she blocked Matt in "Lizards," or whether Peter could have gotten a read on Angela but wanted to hear her say it out loud before he killed her. Either way, it's an effective scene, the kind I wish we could have had when Peter discovered the truth about Sylar.
"What other secrets are you hiding from me, mother?"
Great delivery, particularly the emphasis on the last word. Unlike the condescension Future-Peter delivered it with in "The Butterfly Effect," it's now more a contemptuous mocking.
As slapstick humor goes, it gives most of Hiro's efforts a run for their money. It helps that -- unlike most of Hiro's comedy -- it's tangential to the scene rather than focal, but the amazing thing is it doesn't detract from the intensity of the scene. If anything, it helps to make the family dynamic even more dysfunctional.
Noah shows up to give Sylar the "I'll be waiting out here" nod. This raises the question of whether Noah stumbled into Level 5 a moment too late to help Angela, or whether he watched the entire confrontation on the surveillance cameras, hoping two of the three Petrellis would kill themselves. In any case, you do have to ask where all of the Company guards in the first couple of episodes have gone. With Bob gone, Company funding must have dried up completely.
Noah tells Sylar he has a lead on one of the inmates.
Sylar: "You want me to come with you?"
The sad thing is Sylar sounds hopeful. You can hear how he wants to feel valued. It's difficult to reconcile with Sylar getting a kick out of dividing Noah and Claire, but if you figure Sylar's insane enough to look up to Noah at the same time as hating him, this is an oddly validating moment for the character.
Except ...
... Noah has The Smile of Crafty Scheming.
It's nicely underplayed by Coleman, but I can't help thinking it takes away some of the suspense. For a character who plays his cards so close to the chest, you wouldn't think Noah would be so sloppy -- even with the audience. We now spend the rest of this storyline waiting for Noah to doublecross Sylar, and even though we were expecting that from the moment Noah vowed to find Sylar's weakness, the underplayed smile makes Noah's motives a little too overt. Instead of the implication that Noah saw an opportunity to use a super's ability to solve a problem, the implication is that the only reason Noah came up with this search-and-retrieve operation was to get rid of Sylar.
Canine Central. Sandra twigs that Claire played her and freaks out over the danger Claire's in. Then Meredith walks in, and she's like:
"Ah, well, it happens. I'm sure she'll be fine."
Great physical performance from Ashley Crow and Jessalyn Gilsig. Sandra's shoulders become hunched with worry and her movements become jerky and sudden, and Meredith's so laid-back she's practically slouching. Subtle detail, but you get a sense of the overbearing worrier Sandra is and the trusting leave-it-be mom that Meredith would have been.
We meet Stephen "Bubbles" Canfield, whose ability is to create miniature rifts in space that suck everything into them.
Cool effect. Beeman mentions in his blog that it was limited by budget and time constraints; looking at it here, you'd never guess. Even cooler than the effect itself is the way the character wields it, because in spite of this mightily destructive ability Stephen comes across as one of the most vulnerable and human supers we've met.
Claire shows up to taser Stephen, and props to Anthony Hemingway for the way this scene was set up, because it brings out Stephen's fear and paranoia when he hears the footsteps in the house -- making us identify with him even more -- at the same time as reinforcing that Claire is ...
... enjoying becoming that badass mercenary b**ch we know she'll become in the future. And is it me, or is the Make-Up Department going heavier on the eyeliner this week? Nice foreshadowing, show.
At the Cemetery of Sark ...
I can't put into words how wonderful a vicarious experience this is. Really. It's the closest any of us will get to expressing how we feel about the direction Hiro's storyline has gone in.
Ando pretty much stands there while Adam throttles the life out of Hiro. I guess he knows Hiro can take care of himself, but you have to wonder if Ando's enjoying this as much as we are.
Even beyond Adam throttling Hiro, we know we're meant to enjoy this scene. Perhaps the more relevant question is whether we should enjoy it. Ando is the voice of reason, reminding Hiro that he just dug up the guy who killed Papa Sulu and nearly wiped out 93% of the population. Hiro repeatedly freezing time to seal Adam back inside his coffin is amusing, but when he asks if Adam will "behave" and David Anders delivers his "OK" with this priceless "you're-so-gullible-I-can-play-you-like-a-violin" nonchalance, the scene becomes genuinely funny. And throughout this episode, you know you should feel bad for finding it funny. But the humor is so spot-on and the guilty pleasure of having Anders back on the show is so appealing, it's hard to care. You put aside your ethical reservations and don't care if you're laughing at a genocidal maniac. Which says a lot about the success the show is having with its focus on moral ambiguity, but also a lot about David Anders's versatility as an actor, and a lot about us as viewers if we're willing to embrace one of the show's most sinister villains as a comical rogue.
Hiro summarizes the situation with The Formula. Adam doesn't seem particularly surprised, running through a selection of extremely over-the-top and delightfully comical expressions ...
... all of which underline how effortlessly he's playing Hiro and Ando. He also immediately points the finger at Angela, which suggests that either Angela was the most notoriously reckless of the ElderSupers back in the day, or Adam figured out within minutes who sent Hiro and Ando to dig him up and decided it'd be fun to confuse them. Either way, this was the funniest scene Hiro has had since he met Nathan at the diner.
We cut to Linderman and Daphne at the Pinehearst labs, where Linderman sells some lame story about being acknowledged and accepted by society, which I can't believe would sway Daphne unless it came with a remunerative bottom line, but Daphne gets this half-skeptical/half-intrigued expression that's begging to be expanded on, so my guess is Linderman isn't completely barking up the wrong tree.
Daphne talks to herself. Funny in a disturbing kind of way, not least because the two doctors who walk past her don't look especially surprised by this one-sided conversation.
Linderman's folders contain files on Knox, Mohinder and -- if you're enough of a nerd to look (which I apparently am) -- on Usutu. Which is a detail so well hidden that you need to want to find it, but it's a hopeful sign that the whole Desert of Clairvoyance storyline isn't as far removed as it seems at the moment, and that it'll tie in with the larger story.
Noah and Sylar drive to Stephen's home in the scene which very nearly didn't make it into the episode. What's great about this is it emphasizes exactly what makes this episode stand out: Sylar munching an apple and flicking through radio stations doesn't forward the story, but it says something about the way the character is adjusting to normality. The only way to make it cooler would have been if Sylar found a station playing his brother on guitar.
Sylar: "Rehabilitation doesn't happen overnight. I am trying."
Sad, because the way Zach Quinto delivers it, you almost believe him. The translation is, "It's common for people to relapse, so I may kill a few more people before I'm better," but the fact that Zach could sell the line without it sounding like a Serial Killers Anonymous mantra is a testament to the way he can run with the material he's given.
Noah remarks that killing is in Sylar's nature, and the show cuts to Stephen stunned on the ground and Claire standing over him. Which, again, is a credit to the editors, because it forces us to ask whether killing is in Stephen's nature -- or, given the way the scene is set up, in Claire's.
Intentional similarity to Future-Claire pointing a gun at Future-Peter in the premiere? You'd think so, and if so, it's a neat way to bridge the transition between the two characters.
Stephen explains how he "made one mistake" and ended up vortexing his neighbor. Claire calls him a monster, and it's the only time in this episode when the thematic work feels a little heavy-handed. The way this storyline played out, I don't think we needed to be pushed towards a conclusion so forcefully. Andre Royo played his role with enough feeling that we were nudged in the right direction, and vicious-smiling heavy-eyeliner Claire invited us to hate her without calling the sympathetic villain a monster. It seemed like the show was determined to hammer home the angel/monster distinction and ditched some of its subtlety, which is a shame because the actors and material were conveying that distinction just fine.
Mohinder drags his drug dealer from Central Park to the Apartment of Clairvoyance. Which might be a hilarious plot hole, but I guess, in theory, he transported the guy with reptilian speed and agility and only became slow and clumsy when he got to the apartment. I say this not to excuse Mohinder's idiocy but for the sake of the man he's dragging along, because when Mohinder pulls him down a flight of stairs in the apartment the poor guy's head bashes on every single step. It's painful to watch.
Mohinder pulls the guy into the Lair of Clairvoyance and, amazingly, Mohinder's trademark piano theme starts up on the soundtrack. It's thrown in amid a lot of rattlesnake sound effects, but the use of the theme here seemed like an odd choice. It might be intended to maintain a connection between the audience and Normal Mohinder, or to evoke some kind of sympathy for Under-The-Influence Mohinder. I'd say what's missing is some kind of motive -- even if it's just a sense of self-preservation or Mohinder's need to finish his research to prove he isn't sacrificing himself for nothing.
We cut back to Stephen pacing around his home and Claire pouting at the guy she just called a monster.
Stephen: "Your Company's got it all wrong ..."
^ ^ Is he flattering her? He actually took her for an agent? Probably the nicest compliment she'll get all season.
Stephen collapses against his front door and laments that he can't see his wife and kids and hold them. We get several wide shots that establish how alone Stephen is. Then several close-ups to establish how full of remorse and regret he is. Perhaps in spite of all this rather than because of it, we feel for the guy: not only because he's a family man and because Claire's now obviously realizing how her father robbed this guy of everything that mattered to him, but also because we get a sense of how an ability and one unfortunate incident with it can ruin lives.
Stephen's essentially portrayed the way Maya and Tracy were: as a victim of an ability. And the sad part is there's almost no one left on this show who actually enjoys their ability. Daphne, maybe, but after this episode even she seems to have reservations about where it's gotten her. Micah, Monica and West are AWOL. Charlie and Candice are dead. For everyone else on the show, the abilities have become a curse.
Stephen lets Claire go, eliciting a "WTF?!" look from Claire and a moderate Shenkar wail on the soundtrack, although as ways to convey this guy as a Very Sympathetic Villain go, this is subtler than Claire petulantly calling him a monster.
At the Ice Fortress, Tracy recounts how she went cryo on Katt's ass. Somehow this scene felt eerily reminiscent of the time Niki told D.L. how she tore two thugs to pieces. Again, it could just be an unintentional throwback, but I'd like to think the idea is to show history repeating itself, and how Tracy accepts what she's done much more bravely -- and with much less whining -- than Niki did.
Tracy: "You think God gave us these powers?"
Nathan: "If He didn't, who did?"
Tracy: "A doctor in Reseda, California."
Again, great delivery. I love how Tracy gets this "Boy, this is gonna break his heart" look before she tells him. It is funny, for the way it undercuts Nathan's earnestness and for the way it shatters the mysticism Nathan was happy to live with, but it's also a little sad how the show again seems to imply that no one's allowed any faith in their ability unless they're ignorant or delusional. I kind of hope there'll be a part of this synthetic ability storyline that can't be explained by DNA splicing or evolution.
We cut to the Center of the Vortex, where Claire supplies Stephen with his wife's cell phone number. Stephen gives Claire a heartwarming "thank you" -- which, aww. Claire looks back at him with this sad little smile -- and aww. Stephen calls his wife and looks like he's about to start crying with joy when he tells her he'll meet her and the kids -- and aww yet again. And then Noah and Sylar barge in and screw everything up, and Stephen still feels like he owes Claire enough of a debt to warn her to hold onto something before he opens another vortex. And aww for about the millionth time in under a minute.
Claire's about to get sucked into oblivion and deprive Paire shippers of any hope of further rejoicing when Sylar grabs hold of her. This justifies the most contemptuous glare Hayden can muster while she's in a harness with a wind machine at full strength next to her. And it is kind of understandable when she's looking at the guy who traumatized her enough to step in front of a train and go on a mission to hunt down Level 5 inmates, but at the same time it's not like Sylar had to save her, or even ask if she's OK, which he now does. He is trying.
Sylar: "When I touched your hand, I could feel the pain that I caused you ..."
Bridget Bailey's ability? So Sylar can see a person's history as well as an object's? Cool detail if it's true, although you could equally argue that he's just making a perceptive observation.
Noah implores Claire to tell her where Stephen's gone.
"You can trust me, Claire."
Maybe it's just me, but it seemed like the show wants to remind us that Noah's a fundamentally dishonest character who can't be trusted by anyone -- even the family he's trying to protect. And I know that's not an enormous departure from the shady-but-ultimately-well-intentioned character he always played on the show, but it's somehow fitting to be reminded of that in a season in which the terms "good" and "hero" are relative, and in which Noah's partner is a character who -- for all his atrocities and unforgivable crimes -- comes across as more open and trustworthy.
Adam, Hiro and Ando visit a bar that's aptly described by Hiro as the Cantina. Oh, show. You do bring out our inner geeks.
Adam asks Hiro to "try and ... look tough," the pause expressing the hopelessness of that request. And, yes, Ando's Roboto tough posture is hilarious, but not as hilarious as:
... Hiro mimicking Adam's posture and slapping the counter the exact way Adam does, and then:
... apparently doing his utmost to imitate the guy who murdered his father and wanted to wipe out the majority of mankind.
Oh, yeah. Adam's role model material.
You know it should be objectionable and appalling, but it's so adorably pathetic that it's funny.
Was Adam's plan all along to provoke a fight and escape in the commotion? Or was he going to get Hiro and Ando so wasted that they wouldn't be able to stand? Either way, the plan goes off without a hitch, Hiro gets pwned for about the billionth time, and Ando -- loyal to a heartbreaking fault when you know how it's going to be repaid -- stays with his friend while Adam gets away.
Nice visual tie to Sylar three episodes ago. Peter's effectively taking Sylar's place.
Nathan and Tracy walk into Peter's cell, Angela tells Nathan they're in trouble now that Peter's gone psycho, Tracy offers to make things worse by telling the world about their abilities, and Nathan gives this looooong look at Angela before he asks her what she's hiding.
Angela explains that Zimmerman was involved in the Company's development of "synthetic abilities," then drops the bomb on Nathan. Although it has to be said: she does take a pause that's even loooooonger than Nathan's stare. And, to be fair ...
... She does at least look a little guilty about using her son as a human experiment.
Nathan raises his head in shock, and this takes even looooooooooooooonger than either his previous stare or Angela's dramatic pause. It's as if Adrian and Cristine are battling to see who can own the longest shot of the episode. Adrian wins. It's so slow that it's slower than slow-mo, but it's effective. Great performance from both actors in this scene.
Maya returns to the Apartment of Clairvoyance to investigate the trail of blood she'd seen. I can buy that she wants to know what's going on before she calls the cops, and that she's probably too afraid to contact them given her criminal record and lack of a visa, so I won't Dumb-As-Peter that. Still, if she was expecting trouble, she could have brought the cricket bat.
Did Mohinder always have a framed photo of Papa Suresh next to the door to the lab? I never noticed it until now. Kudos to the Props Department because it goes to show how hard someone on the set tried to convey Mohinder's humanity. But then, it's really not clear what we're supposed to feel about Mohinder's transformation: whether we're supposed to find it scary or tragic or fitting after he brought it on himself. This episode demonstrates the extent to which heroism and villainy depend on perspective, and the show doesn't spend enough time with this storyline -- or its central character -- for us to gauge what Mohinder is thinking or feeling, or whether there's any trace of Mohinder even in there anymore. Even when Maya tells Mohinder he's a monster and Mohinder moves in to cocoon her, it's hard to tell whether he's angry or hurt or just an instinct-driven zombie.
Which isn't a catastrophic failure on the show's part because this scene still conveys a sense of horror and foreboding. But it's disappointing that, in an episode which explores the complexity and humanity of its monsters, Mohinder never gets a chance to demonstrate either of those.
Angela brings Nathan and Tracy to the Midas Study and hands over all information about the way they were used as test subjects for The Formula. This is either an indication of Angela's abundant goodwill or a sign that she doesn't have the staff or authority to lock Tracy and her son up. Or even to have them Haitian-whammied and sent on their way.
Angela reveals that Nathan's father was disappointed about his son lacking an ability, which seems to support Kimiko and Simone never manifesting abilities. Through gritted teeth, Angela admits that what the Company did was wrong, and that they "divided the formula and hit it." I realize the Company might be short on cash, but would it be breaking the bank if the Company bought one of these?
Tracy drones on about Katt getting iced because of what Angela and her cohorts did, and for a moment I sympathize with Angela because you can imagine how she must want to b**ch-slap Tracy right about now, like, "You're whining about one guy? Do you know what I've seen in my dreams because of this damn formula?" But she limits herself to describing the impending anarchy and destruction, and then asks Nathan for help, using the word "please," which is surprising because the only other time she used it was when Matt used the Parkman Whammy to prize Victoria's name out of her. It's kind of a big deal for a character as austere and mercurial as Angela, particularly when it's not because she's being coerced but because she's desperate.
And Nathan still tells her to go to hell, which is understandable, given that he never wanted his ability and that his involvement in this superhero drama cost him his family and his career. After this, you really have to wonder if anyone will help Angela besides Sylar.
Nathan berates Angela for ruining everyone's life, walks out and leaves his mother begging him to listen to her. And you can hear Angela's voice quivering as she calls out to him. Great performance from Adrian and Cristine in this scene. Just the right balance of outrage and anguish without it turning into hysteria and melodrama.
Nathan recommends visiting "harmless" Mohinder, and we cut to Mohinder burying Maya in a cocoon. Well played, editors. The show has officially turned everything we thought we knew on its head.
Claire finds Stephen at the Griffith Park Carousel, and we learn that his family never came to meet him. Then Noah shows up and AGAIN screws everything up.
Did Sylar use superhearing to figure out what Noah was planning? I'd say he didn't, not because it makes more sense in the ongoing debate about whether or not Sylar still has all of his abilities, but because this:
... is the look of a guy who's smart enough to piece it all together without an ability.
Noah promises that "this is all over" if Stephen vortexes Sylar. And he's probably lying about that too, but it's somehow to Stephen's credit that even the prospect of freedom doesn't persuade him to give up his ethical code. When he says, "You people, you're taking everything from me," Stephen's essentially making Noah the monster for forcing him to give up his conscience.
Stephen: "I won't be a monster."
And aww for the final and fifty billionth time, and damn the show for writing him out, because the fact that I've said aww so many times in a smattering of scenes says a lot: about the way this character was written, the way Andre Royo played him, and the way he was brought to life. I don't think there's been such an effective guest appearance on the show since Jayma Mays last played Charlie.
Hiro regains consciousness at the Cantina, searches the area for Adam, doesn't notice Knox pwning Adam and doesn't think it worth freezing time to continue his search. He then drowns his sorrows with Ando and admits that they've "hit a slump." That observation works on so many levels for this character that it's not even funny.
Hiro: "We've made mistakes ..."
The show's writers talking?
Daphne and Knox show up to offer Hiro a job. It comes out of leftfield, mostly because it's hard to imagine what possible use Arthur could have for anyone as incompetent as Hiro, but also because no one would have guessed that Papa Sulu's boy could be so spineless and disloyal and monstrous that he'd ...
... KILL HIS BEST FRIEND?!?
Poor Ando looks terrified. Across the nation, we look terrified. And you can believe Ando will have a right to zap Future-Hiro after this.
Bye-bye, Ando.
^ ^ Does he even look like it bothered him all that much? Even Daphne and Knox look more shaken than that. What a b*****d!
Did he save Noah at the bank and Claire at the house just to break the family apart? Did he curb the serial-killing rampage because he thought it'd be more fun inflicting emotional and psychological scars? Or is he just chuckling over the way Claire repeatedly forgets how easily her father lies to her?
"Everything I do is to protect you."
You know he means it, in his own ends-justify-the-means way, but if it means getting one guy to kill another guy and then probably killing the first guy just to keep her safe, can Noah still be considered a hero? And if so, how many people die before he stops being a hero?
Claire looks like she's wondering the same thing.
Noah: "It's all gonna be OK, I promise."
Well, if forcing a guy to kill or be killed in front of Claire didn't clear things up, I guess that did.
Sandra mentions Meredith leaving to find Claire. I think we can all be forgiven for forgetting about Meredith. We learn she's not exactly being harmed ... yet. Just coerced into piling on calories and making out with a guy she hates. And, OK, ew. Props to David H Lawrence XVII because he's got even less screen time to work with than Robert Forster, yet we get a sense of Doyle's amoral creepiness as vividly as we do Arthur's. Brief introduction, but well executed.
Angela sits in the Midas Study and dreams a prophetic dream in which she finds Tracy's throat slit, Nathan with a fatal wound to the head and Peter with a crowbar in the back of his skull. And if there was any doubt about whether Angela knew Papa Petrelli was alive when she told Peter about his suicide, the gasp she lets out when she sees him standing in front of her establishes that she didn't. Or if she did, she got that knowledge thoroughly Haitian- and Parkman-whammied out of her.
Love how the camera focuses completely on her. It's like we're looking to Angela to gauge how shocked or horrified we should be.
Arthur: "You can see the future. I can't have that. It's too dangerous."
No it's not! Her dreams are garbled with cryptic double-meanings and metaphors -- none of them make any sense! It's not a dangerous ability at all!
Angela: "You won't succeed. I'll stop you. With a blockade of cotton footwear if I have to!"
OK, so they edited that last part out. She probably would have said that if she hadn't woken up.
Source of his power? Could be. Or you could point to a scene from way back when Angela was telling Nathan to "prioritize" ...
... and it seemed like there was an unusual focus on her ring too. Maybe these two just really like their rings. Not that it matters much to Angela now because she's paralyzed in her chair in Midas Bob's study, so jewelry's kind of a moot point.
Daphne meets Linderman outside Pinehearst and expresses regret that Ando died, possibly scuppering the theory that Hiro froze time and that Daphne's in on the "pretend" murder. If she is in on it, she's giving a convincing performance to Linderman.
Linderman assigns Daphne to recruit Parkman Jr. ... Or Parkman Sr. assigns Daphne to recruit Parkman Jr. ... Or Papa Petrelli assigns Parkman Sr. to assign Linderman to assign Daphne to recruit Parkman Jr. ... Somebody wants Parkman Jr. on Team Pinehearst, which is perhaps surprising when they've already got a competent Parkman on the team, but the idea of Grunberg and Blumenfeld getting more scenes together is promising, so I won't try to poke holes in it yet.
Linderman describes Matt's power, pretty much spoiling what's about 30 seconds away, but still ... Welcome back, Alan Blumenfeld!
Daphne agrees to recruit Matt because ...
Because ...
Because she trusts Linderman even after she's found out he's an apparition? Or because McDowell just has an honest face and Daphne's willing to believe he has his reasons? Or because she'll get paid whether her boss is a ghost or not? I'm leaning towards that last one, but as with the half-skeptical/half-intrigued expression, it's a hopeful sign that Daphne's got her own motives for going along with this gig.
Maury visits Papa Petrelli in his gargantuan bed inside Pinehearst and tells his boss "the team is coming together nicely." Which is an understatement because Team Pinehearst is more or less the show's Villain Elite. The remarkable part is the team came together through a lot of fluke circumstances rather than any concerted effort or contrived twists in the plot.
Which brings us back to the paradox of this episode, because the shocks in this episode -- while necessitated by the plot -- come across as very much character-motivated. Arthur being alive sets him up to be the daddy villain over Linderman, Adam and Maury, but you're drawn to the story because of the ramifications it has for Angela and Peter and Nathan. The prospect of half of the show's supers being lab rats who were given their abilities rather than born with them makes the ElderSuper backstory more necessary than ever, but it's more intriguing for the way it changes the family dynamics than for the story possibilities it opens up.
The surprising part of this episode was its heart: for the way it recaptured the show's first-season spirit, for the way it turned out to be affecting and poignant when you didn't expect it to, and for the way it followed through on its original idea of duality and the lengths the characters will go to do what they think is right. It was less explosive than last week's episode, but also the first truly character-driven episode of the season. Slower paced and bordering on elegiac, but in the best possible way: it unified the separate story threads with a common theme, as if the show suddenly remembered that, for all its explosive plot-driven appeal, the most appealing part of this show remains its characters.
4.5 out of 5]]>
Was the dog's DNA manipulated? Does Zimmerman know his son turned into a magnetic maniac? Will Ali have to do a German accent if Barbara grew up with Zimmerman?
We learn that the triplets' birth parents died, so it seems drunken abusive Hal was an adoptive father for Niki, although whether Jessica's birth parents were the same as Niki's is now also a question worth raising.
Ali plays the scene deftly, going for something between shock, curiosity, violation and anger. Ronald Guttman's performance is more underplayed, probably because -- as we gather -- he's had crucial memories Haitian-whammied out of him. It's worth noting, though, that the scene sets up manufactured abilities as a superpower lottery rather than a controlled science. Zimmerman doesn't know what Tracy's ability is, guessing that it might be speed or strength.
Tracy goes semi-cryo on Zimmerman but pulls herself back in time for the guy to thaw out. Cool effect. It's only later that it hits you: they're not just using Tracy as Niki 2.0 -- they're using her as Maya 2.0. She discovers a destructive ability, panics and kills a guy, then goes looking for answers. The difference is that she finds more answers in four episodes than Niki did in two seasons, and that she avoids the self-pity and insufferable whining which Maya displayed throughout the second season. Unlike both of those characters, Tracy comes across as independent and resourceful despite how confused and alone she feels. Good writing and good portrayal.
Desert of Clairvoyance. We learn that Matt's eating goo rather than berries. Whatever. I still don't buy that the right goo and the right auditory accompaniment will imbue anyone with a power which, until recently, was supposed to be hereditary. But if we've gone from hereditary abnormality to adrenal glands to DNA manipulation, what's a little goo and music for extra measure?
Matt goes clairvoyant and sees ...
Beautiful shot. Eerie, surreal, and setting up quite elegantly how this is all a reflection of what could happen until two Peters splash into it and mess it all up.
Present-Peter discovers that Superhero Square has become Superhero Planet.
The sequence with people flying and speeding across the street was well done, but I couldn't help wishing we could see more. I can't believe the budget was too tight to show a couple of suits phasing through traffic, or a guy replacing a tire with TK, or someone Parkman-whammying their way out of a parking ticket. It's a great sequence as it is, but some variation to the abilities would have made it better.
Future-Peter speechifies about how people can't be trusted, and how they're weak and jealous and violent. It's a riff on Claude's "people suck" speech, and while it's interesting that Future-Peter eventually reaches the same conclusions Claude did, it's also a little disheartening to see that Present-Peter -- despite his deception by The Company and his manipulation by Adam -- is as naively idealistic as he was in the middle of the first season.
Future-Peter: "It's not safe for me to be out in the open. They'll be looking for us."
Crucial Continuity Screw-Up #1. And this not a minute after a scene that echoed the words of Doctor Fantastic, who blessed both of these idiots with the gift of ...
Anyone?
*PING!*
*PING!*
They both get Dumb As Awards. It's not like they knew Future-Claire and the Haitian would show up to find them in a random New York alley, but both of them should have thought to stay invisible if they didn't want to mess up the timeline even more than they had.
Future-Peter explains that he's a wanted man. It's intended to raise questions at the same time as making us say "No, he's trying to save us all!" The problem is it demonstrates everything that's wrong with this episode. We know Future-Peter's trying to avert an apocalypse, but we're pulled out of the drama by wondering: what did Future-Peter do to make people think he was an extremist and a villain? Is it that he alters his appearance and turns invisible? Is it that he can time-travel and change events? Because if abilities have become the global commodity they're made out to be here, you'd think there'd be more than a few people who can eavesdrop on conversations and wipe memories and rewrite history. You'd also wonder why anyone would hunt and slaughter and experiment on supers when their abilities are so ubiquitous.
All interesting questions, and they're so abundant that they pull you out of a story that's already excessively complex. The preoccupation with "moral ambiguity" means we can't get behind the characters. We can't root for Future-Peter because we don't even know if we trust him; we can't completely hate the trio at Pinehearst because we don't even know what they're working to achieve; we can't wrap our heads around a world in which Sylar's a victim because our gut feeling tells us it's insane. It's all possible, but without some kind of context to the scenes the audience is collectively wandering through the episode blind, trying to figure out what they're supposed to feel and who they're supposed to sympathize with.
Future-Peter tells Present-Peter they need to find Sylar so that Present-Peter can absorb his ability. Because that, apparently, will help the Peters correct history and avert an apocalypse. Present-Peter rightly asks Future-Peter why he can't do that, earning his future self yet another
*PING!*
Dumb As Award. Why is Future-Peter dragging his present self into this? Future-Peter and Future-Sylar are obviously tight friends, so it would make sense for Future-Peter to absorb Sylar's ability before he started screwing around with time.
Present-Peter doesn't like the sound of visiting Sylar. He wants to see Nathan, Claire, Suresh ... but apparently not his dear mother. If she's alive, you can hear Future-Angela weeping with neglect and planning her next sock-stealing escapade.
Future-Claire shows up with the Haitian and puts a few bullets in Future-Peter. The Paire shippers do not rejoice. Neither does anyone who enjoys any semblance of continuity on the show, because the bullets hit Future-Peter in the chest, meaning he should have regenerated the moment the Haitian was out of range.
Present-Peter scurries away, taking a moment to grab a trash-can lid to thwack the Haitian over the head, like, "THAT'S for wiping my memory and sending me to Ireland, a**hole!"
Aaaaaand from way back:
Intentional similarity between the shots? Your call. I choose to believe the director of photography's a genius even when the writers seem to be idiots. I'd like to think this deliberately recalls the last time Claire lost someone she cared about, because if it is intentional, it says a lot about the way Claire went from being a victim to a killer. On the other hand, it could equally be a lucky coincidence.
Sad. You know he's remembering how she was and lamenting what she's become, but it's also sad for us to remember how fresh and inspired the show felt, and how long ago it now seems.
Future-Mohinder appears, but he's so ghastly that we only see him with a hood in the shadows. There's some growling and wheezing and slithering involved, so I think there's a lot to be said for the theory that this isn't actually Mohinder but in fact a mutated form of Lizard-Mohinder.
Peter pulls Future-Sylar's location out of Future-Mohinder's head and moves to teleport out of there.
Peter's becoming the Boogeyman! Nice foreshadowing. Again, plot holes and overly entangled storylines aside, this episode has some superb visual work tying in with the character arcs.
Peter shows up at Future Canine Central. The blue-pyro as a defense mechanism was a neat touch. Not a big deal and not forced into the plot, but it makes sense for him to use the ability when he isn't sure what to expect.
I can't comment on this. The image says it all.
I will, however, point out the sheer brilliance of the "Hail to the Chef" apron, which trumps even Mohinder's "World's Best Dad."
And I will point out the ditty little march on the soundtrack, which captures the ridiculousness of the scene perfectly.
And Future-Sylar's glasses, which look like they were picked to maximize his dorkiness.
And the shift in Zach's mannerisms, from the usual steely glare to a goofy grin, from choosing and enunciating his words so carefully to slurring them in a casual conversational tone.
Whatever you think of the premise behind this episode, there's no denying that Zach Quinto owns it.
"What's the magic word?"
"Ab-wah-ca-dab-wah."
"Well, that's a magic word."
Adorable. Saccharine and calculatingly sentimental, but adorable.
Peter glares, enough for L'il Noah to become uncomfortable and Sylar to twig that something's up. So Sylar cuts a piece of the waffle (aw!) and tells L'il Noah that the grown-ups are going to have a chat in the next room.
The scene starts out awesome: Future-Sylar figures out Peter's not the Peter he knows as quickly as Angela did. In character, particularly for a character whose ability involved a high level of perception.
Then we go from awesome to suck: Peter discovers he and Sylar are brothers. The reveal itself is well played by both actors, but it comes across as an off-hand "by the way" reveal rather than "brace yourself, this will blow your mind." Even if it was set up the same way, I think Angela needed to be there when this scene played out.
And from suck to suckier: Sylar won't give Peter his ability. Continuity Screw-Up #4, because since when did an absorber have to ask permission before taking an ability from an absorbee? Is intuitive aptitude some kind of high-grade ability that needs an instruction manual and advanced classes? Peter struggled to control his ability, but it's not like he ever struggled with the principles behind it: (1) stand next to a super, (2) absorb their ability, (3) think really hard about the way they make him feel or get into a situation where their ability comes in handy.
"There's a hunger. To know more, to have more. I couldn't control it. It turned me into a killer."
The Melancholy Sylar Piano begins, so we know they're not kidding us with this. We're genuinely expected to buy into the idea that, all along, Sylar's been a victim of his ability. As opposed to, you know, A POWER-HUNGRY B*****D WHO WILLINGLY MURDERED PEOPLE EVERYWHERE SO THAT HE COULD FEEL SPECIAL. The reveal that Sylar's a Petrelli was bad, but this is worse: this implies that becoming a serial killer wasn't Sylar's fault. It was. It was his fault when he cracked Brian Davis's head open, and it's still his fault. Suggesting that two seasons of murder was the work of a man who's good on the inside despite his urges isn't something I'll believe. Ever.
And yet, the show drags itself back to awesome:
"Every day is a struggle. Every hour. But I fight it ..."
It's good dialogue, it's well delivered, and if it was taken out of context the show probably wouldn't have a problem making a reformed villain a metaphor for a reformed drunk. The problem is this doesn't just devalue Sylar's stature as the villain of the show. It retcons the pleasure Sylar took in killing people and gaining their abilities, from Dale to Isaac to Candice, all the way to nearly scalping Elle this season. It'd be less implausible if he felt bad about it; you could point to the "Forgive Me Father" scrawling in "One Giant Leap" and argue that he did feel bad to begin with. But the show now seems to be saying that Sylar didn't actively take pleasure in taunting his victims and didn't delight in robbing them of their abilities for his own benefit. We know he did.
Peter persuades Sylar to paint the future so that he'll see why it's so important to change the past. Sylar gives a nervous look towards L'il Noah in the kitchen.
"Don't let him see me."
Aaaaaand we're all the way back to awesome again, because regardless of the context, it's hard not to be moved by the thought that went into these scenes. Sylar was so afraid of relapsing that he placed an Ability Embargo on the house. Putting aside the obvious questions -- is L'il Noah actually Sylar's child? Who's the mother? Does the kid have an ability? Does he know about Sylar's ability? -- the interesting question is why Sylar banned abilities from the house. In order not to tempt himself, probably, but it could be that Sylar's trying to delude himself into thinking he's changed and that he can live out an unspecial life. And in a world where abilities are like cell phones, it's probably the most special thing Sylar could wish for.
We cut to Future Chandra's Crib, where Future-Matt and Future-Daphne argue over whether or not to use Molly to pinpoint Present-Peter's loca-
Whoa, Matt and Daphne? MATT AND DAPHNE? Way to go, Matt!
Welcome back, Adair Tishler! Does she look four years older? I'd say yes; if she was around eight in "Don't Look Back," she looks around 12 here. It helps that she's playing an angsty teen who hides from her parents' bickering by putting on earphones.
Matt mentions having "a spouse who's worried if you're gonna come home alive." Which is a little oblique, but if Heidi and Caitlin get as much as Janice just did, I'll be happy.
Future Canine Central. Future-Sylar paints the splitting globe we saw in the desert and on the warehouse and in the alley. It's turning into the new double-helix. There must be a lot of clairvoyant artists out there.
Whoever came up with that deserves a bouquet. It takes us all the way back to the day he took on the name, but it's also amazing that the hands have stopped at seven minutes to midnight. You see a detail like that and you wonder how this show can be written so brilliantly one moment and so abysmally the next, and how they remember stuff like this when they miss stuff that's so much more obvious.
Peter TK's the components around a bit, puts them back into place and repairs the watch, and Sylar gets ...
... the eeriest look when he tells Peter how sorry he is. It's part remorse, part horror, part fascination. Again, as much as I might complain about the premise, Zach's performance in this episode was flawless.
L'il Noah calls out to his dad to let him know there's a L'il Hostage Situation in the kitchen. And I realize this really is nitpicking, but how long did it take for the Villainous Trio to get from New York to Costa Verde? Unless Sylar's painting took four or five hours -- in which case L'il Noah deserves a LOT of waffles for waiting in the kitchen the whole time -- I'm assuming Daphne came speeding to Canine Central with Knox and Claire in tow on rollerblades.
Sylar: "Peter -- teleport out now."
Indeed! Or FREEZE TIME. Or TK THE GUN OUT OF CLAIRE'S HAND AND PIN THEM ALL TO THE CEILING. Sylar's inaction is understandable; he's too afraid for his son, and after years of inhibiting his ability he might not even know if he can access it fast enough.
But Peter? He's dumb. Dumb.
*PING!*
*PING!*
*PING!*
And that, ladies and gentleman, gives us the HeroSite Dumb As Peter Award for Heroes Season Three.
Claire points her gun at L'il Noah, which brings back the disturbing image of Matt pointing his gun at Sandra and Lyle at the end of "Unexpected" and kind of makes me hate Future-Claire. It's made worse by the fact that Claire is ...
... smiling as she's holding a kid at gunpoint?
Well, hey, if they think they can redeem Sylar, they probably think they can redeem this too.
Peter: "You're gonna kill me?"
Claire: "One bullet in the back of the head should do the trick."
Sylar heard that, right? Glad we got it straightened out this week. One inconsistency we can tick off the list.
Peter: "What happened to you? How did you get this way?"
Nice echo of Future-Peter's words in the premiere. It's a little sad that, four episodes in, we're no closer to an answer than we were back then, but it's also quite moving how Claire gets a quiver of the lip when Peter asks.
Present-Peter absorbs Future-Daphne's superspeed and gets into a superspeed-smackdown with her. I would have pegged that as an ability that needed a little practice before you turn pro, but it is an impressive sequence.
Knox beats on Sylar while Sylar philosophizes about power, strength and fear. Then Knox channels L'il Noah's fear and kicks Sylar across the ground so hard that he sends Sylar and a broken table smashing into the kid.
And this is gutwrenching.
Not that the show dwells on it much, because we jump from Peter looking horrified and Daphne looking a little sorry to ...
... Sylar ready to go nuclear.
OK, back up. I realize it's Sylar, that the episode needs to make 42 minutes and that these villains aren't going to stand around to accommodate a lengthy mourning scene, but Sylar's transition from devastation to fury is very sudden. The show should have lingered with it a little longer, at least long enough for the audience to acknowledge what happened. It jumps to Sylar going berserk so abruptly that we don't have a chance to register what happened: we don't feel for Sylar as much as we should and we don't hate Knox as much as we should. It's an emotional rollercoaster that's so fast it robs us of the emotions. So all we're left with is a rollercoaster. And Sylar incinerating 200,000 people.
Now, here's the REAL kicker. How do they follow up a scene as intense as that?
You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me.
Cutting to the gold bars after Elle went Ellectric on Level 5 was bad, but cutting to Hiro and Ando wrestling over a belt and Hiro getting a leg up to a vent? When Sylar just nuked 200,000 people? Seriously, Heroes, ARE YOU %@*#ING KIDDING US?!
Ando uses the belt to pull the vent open and basically tells Hiro to have a nice life. And is it me, or IS HIRO CONTENT TO GO ALONG WITH THIS?
Does anyone remember when Hiro used to talk about a code of honor? Because it doesn't seem like he's intentionally being written as a villain -- just a total douche who's lost all concept of right and wrong.
We cut to the Apartment of Clairvoyance, where Mohinder's looking through a microscope and cursing under his breath to let us know that What He Knows Is Too Complicated To Explain. So we're left with sticky fingers, a visit from the violent neighbor, and what may turn out to be some cannibalism humor.
Tracy returns to the Ice Fortress to phone a detective and tearfully turn herself in for Katt's murder, only she freezes the handset before she can get the words out. Clever, and well executed. I love how Tracy finishes the confession even after the phone's frozen, like admitting the truth to herself is as important as turning herself in.
Tracy takes the time to type up and print out a resignation letter for Nathan before jumping off a bridge. Which might point to Tracy being the kind of control freak who can't stand leaving loose ends before she kills herself, or it might point to Tracy wanting a pretext to see Nathan one last time. Or it's just a device to put Tracy and Nathan together so Linderman can cryptically tell Nathan it's his destiny to rescue her.
Nathan catches Tracy after she jumps and brings her back to the Ice Fortress.
I love how nonchalant Pasdar is in this scene, and how Tracy takes a nervous sip from her drink before she freezes it. Nice effect; you even see steam rising from the glass.
Having revealed her ability, Tracy looks like she's not sure if Nathan's going to freak out, love her less or regret catching her from the bridge. Our answer is given in the form of ...
Gah! What are those things over her eyes? Call the fashion police!
We gather that Future-Nathan becomes president, that Future-Tracy becomes the First Lady, and that President Petrelli apparently has some close connection to Pinehearst, which has double-helixes in its logo and a giant Kirby Plaza-esque double-helix sculpture at its entrance.
It seems that Present-Peter and Future-Claire's charred remains have regenerated. We're given to believe that Claire subdued Peter long enough for the Haitian to arrive at the scene and stop him from freezing time, teleporting or speedy-zipping away before anyone could haul his ass from a West Coast crater to the East Coast Pinehearst facility.
Future-Claire wonders if Present-Peter's trying to teleport away. "That's not going to work with my friend here." Nice echo of Noah's words to Matt in "Collision," and nice way to show history repeating itself. Claire blames Peter for Sylar nuking Costa Verde, which seems a little unfair because it's no more his fault than it is Knox's or Sylar's, but it leads to Claire using a scalpel to slice Peter open [Insert your S&M jokes here] and vowing to make Peter feel the pain of every victim one slice at a time. So, two down, 199,998 to go. It's a good thing these two don't age, but will the Haitian live long enough for Claire to make good on this vow? Even if he doesn't visit the men's room every once in a while, he'll drop dead before Claire gets beyond 50,000 cuts and Peter will teleport away. This plan wasn't very well thought out.
Nathan walks in on this torture and seems ...
... oddly unemotional about it.
If you didn't need those painkillers before, you'll need 'em now.
The fact that Nathan doesn't flinch at the sight of his dead present-brother next to his daughter slicing his past-brother open with a scalpel tells me one of two things: either this is a regular occurrence for these two in the future [Add more S&M jokes here!], or Nathan has become such a jerk that the sight of one relative taking a scalpel to another doesn't faze him. If it's the latter, I'm inclined to think Future-Angela would be beaming with pride at her son right now.
Nathan tells Peter that what happened at Costa Verde is reason enough to authorize a superpowered army. I'm not sure who they'd send that army after, but the important point is how Present-Peter seems to have screwed the future up even more than Future-Peter screwed the past up. Which shouldn't be a problem because once Present-Peter returns to the present he can undo all of it, but this plays out with a lot of earnestness, which seems to suggest it's another event in history that'll take place no matter what.
Nathan wearily pulls up a chair next to the dead future version of his brother. Which, again, implies either that this is an everyday chore for him, or that Nathan's an unfeeling b*****d. Pasdar does seem to be channeling a lot of the mannerisms and inflections he used for Sylar-as-Nathan, so you have to wonder.
Nathan offers to let Present-Peter read his mind, which Peter does, and then, dun-dun-DUN!:
It's not enough that he won the season's Dumb As Award. Peter's turning evil!
He could still be alive! But somehow that'd ruin the symmetry of Future-Peter going back in time and killing Present-Nathan, only for Present-Peter to come forward in time to kill Future-Nathan.
OK, my brain has now officially fried. I need someone to re-read that and tell me how anyone can make sense of this show anymore. And the show still claims that new viewers can jump on-board anytime they like. Who do they think they're kidding? This is so messed up that I wonder how devout fans follow it, let alone casual viewers who tuned in to see what's going on. It's surreal: Future-Nathan calling the shots at an alternate Company where Claire and Knox work, where Future-Peter's body doesn't elicit so much as a whimper from the guy's brother and where Present-Peter slices his future-brother open to find out how his brain works? I'd say it must be some kind of alternate universe, but that'd be too straightforward for this episode.
Present-Peter returns to The Present Basement to find Present-Sylar, who he blames for Future-Sylar letting Peter take his power. Sylar realizes that Peter's aggression stems from The Hunger, presumably setting us up for a scenario in which Peter goes on a serial-killing rampage while Sylar adopts a kid and learns how to make waffles.
"Moral ambiguity"? It's in there somewhere, but it's buried beneath a storyline that tripped over itself one too many times and finally fell flat after losing any sense of coherence.
Future Chandra's Crib. Daphne shows up ...
... and dies in Matt's arms. Which, aww, even though there was no real reason to buy into the two of them being together in the first place.
And Matt finally wakes up. Am I the only one who forgot this all took place in Matt's head?
Matt remembers that the woman in his dream was named Daphne and makes it a priority to find her. Which I guess is the second priority after escaping the desert, but also raises the question of whether Matt saw everything we just saw. If he did, you do have to question the priorities of a man who resolves to find his mystery blonde before looking into the potential destruction of a town, the deaths of 200,000 people and the prospect of a near-invulnerable superhero taking on an ability that'll turn him psychotic.
That's true love.
Usutu tells Matt to follow his spirit guide.
How long do you think it would take Matt to follow this turtle from Tunis to Cape Town? However long, it'll be faster than the pace this story thread's moving at. When Matt's storyline consists almost entirely of dreaming about what other characters are doing, something needs to change.
Angela brings Hiro and Ando to the Midas Study and tells them that "they" have both parts of The Formula, and that Papa Sulu was wrong about Hiro growing up to be a great man. We don't feel inclined to disagree with this, and neither does Hiro, who lets his head droop so low that you wonder if it's possible for shame to induce narcolepsy.
Ando resuscitates Hiro long enough for Angela to tell them there's someone "powerful" and "hidden" out there, and that Hiro's the key to finding him and solving this mystery. Hiro's solution to solving said mystery is to dig up Adam. Because, between 30 years in a Company cell and a couple of weeks in a coffin, there's a chance he might know something. At this point, I've given up trying to make sense of the episode. I'm not even going to wonder how Hiro and Ando could be stupid enough to release Adam without the Haitian there to negate Adam's instaheal and put a bullet through his head the moment he runs.
In the end, it's hard to complain, because ...
SAAAAAAAAARK!
It goes without saying that this episode has a lot in common with "Five Years Gone": present hero meets future counterpart, sees how everyone's changed, witnesses a disaster and returns to the present to avert it all. On paper, it's straightforward enough. And, to be fair, this episode displayed a lot of the brilliance that "Five Years Gone" did: the concept was engaging, the effects were superb, and we're left wondering how the characters will become so screwed up.
The difference is that while "Five Years Gone" told a coherent, streamlined story, "I Am Become Death" is a mess. An often brilliant mess, but one that loses its brilliance because of its messiness. The questions we're left with aren't intentionally enticing so much as regrettably unresolved: Linderman's pulling Nathan's strings, but we don't even know if he's Linderman; Future-Claire's a trigger-happy mercenary, but we still have no idea why; Matt and Daphne are together, but it seems like it's more for the sake of arbitrary drama than because it makes sense for them to be together; and Hiro's dredging up the previous season's villain on the off-chance that he'll illuminate them -- and us -- about anything going on here.
It's not just that the logic behind the plot falls apart the moment you think about it; it's that the episode is so elaborate that it loses sight of what it wants to say. For all its scope, "Five Years Gone" had a core idea: it explored how each character reacted to New York's destruction and its aftermath. "I Am Become Death" confuses mystery with obfuscation and lacks a core idea. The backbone of the story is Peter hoping Sylar's ability might help him alter history without completely messing it up, but since we don't know what we're supposed to make of that -- whether it'll work, or whether we can even trust the guy who came up with it -- we don't know what we're supposed to make of the episode. It's not so much enjoyable as it is bewildering.
3 out of 5
As tragic as L'il Noah getting squished, because it should have been a 5.]]>
This? ... is just ... ew.
Angela laments that she ever gave Sylar up for adoption, which raises all kinds of questions about whether Angela wanted to raise Sylar and didn't get a say in it, and whether Zimmerman's "creation" project involved planting supers in different environments to see how the individuals and their abilities would adapt. Alternatively, it's all just one giant mindfrak with Sylar. Which, judging from the way Sylar's on the verge of hyperventilating during this scene, is having the desired effect.
Angela tells Sylar that Bridget Bailey's going to "feed" him, except the way Cristine delivers it, it's not so much "feed you" as "feeeeeeeeeeeeeeed you." Great delivery, and great ambiguity as Angela's stepping out of the cell and walking away from The Basement, because her look of pride is only slightly offset by the "Aw, shucks, it had to be done" look she gets when Bridget starts screaming. I don't know if that makes Angela the unconscionable Company Woman who's happy to lose a few employees if it means sending Sylar on missions and getting the job done, or if she's just the misguided mother who disapproves of her difficult son's vices but knows there's nothing she can do about them.
V.O. Mohinder monologues about "the search for self" and whether "the hero or the villain inside us win[s] the day" as we cut to the Ice Fortress, where Tracy ...
... goes cryo on a bunch of roses, most of whom are like, "Thanks, b**ch! What did we ever do to you?" Cool effect, and a cool way to establish how Tracy's the antithesis of Niki, confronting her ability and pursuing the truth instead of running away from it.
We cut to the Villainous Four in a location that, according to the chyron, is Poughkeepsie, New York.
Beautifully shot, and, with hindsight, driving the knife even further into the wound when you realize this is all the opportunity Francis Capra will have to play Peter. If the plan was to kill Weevil off within three episodes, it's not like a lot of viewers were going to forget it was Present-Peter in there; and if the plan was to tie the Villainous Four's storyline with Noah's and Sylar's so quickly, it's not like viewers would bash it for being removed from the central arc the way the Ireland storyline was. Capra could easily have played Peter-in-Jesse.
The Villainous Four enter the bank, and the Heist of the Villainous Four begins. The German Magnetoes the blinds shut, Flint goes blue-pyro, and Present-Peter just sort of stands there looking dumb, probably wondering what he'd rather be doing instead of holding up a bank.
The Company Man returns to The Basement to trade quips with the Company Woman.
Angela: "You can take the man out of The Company ..."
SNIP! Edited because this script is awesome!
Sure, she could have finished the sentence and it would've only added a few seconds to the running time. But why bother when we know how the sentence ends and when Noah doesn't have the patience for it? For all the criticism you can heap on this episode about the way a lot of it makes zero sense, Joe Pokaski's script is a 5 out of 5. Quick, snappy, well-crafted, and above all a script that sounds natural in the mouths of the characters.
There's some verbal jousting over "our Claire" that speaks volumes about the proprietary contest between Noah and Angela, and then Angela tells Noah that the Haitian's "on a pick-up assignment." And even though it's kind of hard to buy that Angela would send the Haitian on a monumental mission like this by himself, particularly after the numerous times he's double-crossed The Company and played its various factions against one another, it also jars quite startlingly with the Company's "one of us, one of them" policy that we're now reminded of. You could speculate that Angela's stockpiling her supers to sustain Sylar at snack time, but the non-supers? You would have thought Angela would send one of them to Berlin along with the Haitian.
Noah rattles off the old "one of us, one of them" policy, and I can't help thinking the reason they put this reference in here was to remind us of the good-natured pigeon-feeding Bearded One that Noah tried to kill so long ago -- specifically to contrast Ol' Doctor Fantastic with the latest replacement:
I love how Sylar's got this little "Whoopee!" half-smile while Noah's more:
"YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS!"
We return to the Heist of the Villainous Four, where Peter's telling the hostages to keep their heads down. Again, I'm convinced Capra could have delivered exactly the same line to the same effect, but it's a cool detail that Milo can communicate how commanding and assertive he is with lines at the same time as conveying how insecure and freaked-out he is with expressions.
The German Magnetoes the safe open and declares with pride, "Es ist offen!" Aw. And I know I'm not supposed to "aw" that, but honestly, I'm struggling to understand what made these guys Level 5 material. I mean, The German beat up the car driver last week, and, OK, he pulls a gun on Knox this week when he realizes he's been betrayed; but besides that, am I the only one who's not getting a Worst-of-the-Worst vibe from this guy? I get the impression that he's really only interested in taking his part of the money and disappearing. We were supposed to believe that these guys would cause "unimaginable destruction to the world." It could be intentional on the show's part, particularly in a volume parading its goal to bring ambiguity to every character's actions, but I couldn't help thinking that some of the actual villains weren't intended to be as sympathetic as they come across. Even Flint nearly going pyro on some random member of staff in the bank only half-succeeds in making him monstrous, mostly because Blake Shields has such an affable presence that he transcends the role he's playing. You can believe he'll torch the occasional guy he meets after he's taken his money and run, but I can't see him destroying the world, and I'm not sure why we should loathe a guy with a penchant for the occasional torching when we laugh off Angela's willingness to feeeeeeeeed her psychokiller son.
We go from that to the eggs and bacon and waffles at Canine Central. Great thematic contrast, but also a great visual set-up for the wholesome family life that Claire's about to give up. Well played, writers.
Sandra asks Claire if she's ready for school. Claire tartly replies that she's not going, and it suddenly occurs to me that it's really only been a couple of days since the drama last season, and I wonder if we're meant to assume that West is still at school and waiting for the superhero crapstorm he was expecting to begin as soon as Claire went public about their abilities. I think the main reason it occurred to me was because Claire's petulant tone and expression here brings back everything that failed with her character arc last season.
Mercifully, the Bratty Claire moment is brief, and Meredith rescues the scene by coming to Claire's rescue and offering to explain to Sandra that when you're "like" them --
Sandra [dialogue]: "Meredith, I'm thrilled that you're here to protect us but I know how to talk to my daughter, thank you."
Sandra [translation]: "Who gave you permission to speak?"
... And Meredith understandably withers before this demonstration of power. I wouldn't have guessed Ashley Crow could be so scary, but I also kind of wish we could have heard Meredith finish her sentence: was she going to say that having an ability makes you feel like the rules don't apply to you, or that a normal life is pointless? Again, props to Pokaski for a brilliant script because the whole point of Claire's storyline this week is to set up why she can't go back to a normal routine and a normal life, but it'd be interesting to get a graphic novel to embellish what Meredith's experience has taught her about having an ability and how that affects her relationships with non-supers.
We cut to the Midas Study.
Beautifully shot, and a scene that's electric because it puts the show's most complex characters together. As with the Sandra and Meredith dialogue, the brilliance is in the tone and the subtext: Sylar's defensiveness when he points out that scalping Claire wouldn't kill her, like, "Dad, it's not like I crashed the car, I just dented it," and Angela's weariness when she reproaches Noah for pointing his gun at Sylar, like, "Noah, I told you to finish your homework and take out the trash 10 minutes ago." I can't tell if that's Sergio Mimica-Gezzan's directing or the actors just nailing their characters and their motives in this scene, but it works.
Noah: "Your solution is to send a psychopath after the psychopaths?"
Great dialogue. Blunt, succinct, and self-parodic in the best possible way. You hear it, and you know the writers hear the audience saying it's nuts, even though they're going to go ahead with it anyway.
Angela: "He's been misunderstood. He just needs structure."
I wonder what Sylar's victims would say about that, but I also wonder if we're meant to trust Angela's assessment of Sylar or write her off as delusional. The way Sylar seems to respond to her, you almost believe she can control him. It doesn't make sense; you would have laughed at it last season, or even last week when Sylar was slicing Claire's head open. But the scene is so well played and the performances and dialogue are so carefully delivered that you struggle to care. You laugh because it's genuinely funny rather than because it's absurd.
Hiro and Ando teleport to Daphne's location in Berlin, which turns out to be a movie theater hosting a Buster Keaton midnight special ... which is either hilariously appropriate to the slapstick simplicity of this storyline, or completely random. Daphne promptly shows up at the entrance to the theater, and Hiro's all, "Nemesis!" Which is intended to be funny, but it underlines everything that's ruining this storyline. It's a reminder that Hiro's first priority is to give his life meaning by convincing himself that he's a hero on an adventure, and that the second priority is to retrieve The Formula and, you know, save the world. It's also a little sad that Hiro's having to overdramatize his meeting with Daphne and pretend he's a hero after the real heroism he's demonstrated in the past. As weak as Hiro stabbing Sylar was, he was taking a life to prevent Sylar from taking more. As lame as the entire feudal Japan story arc was, it led to Hiro burying his hero alive. And while you got a "Yatta!" after the first instance and morose puppy-eyes after the second, both of those were preferable to calling a superfast thief "nemesis" and offering popcorn to a guy who's just been conked over the head.
It's not that they need to remove the comic-book undertones altogether, just that the show needs to dial them down if they don't want Hiro to look like an idiot.
Now, all of that said, this:
... is adorable. And telling. Not because of anything Hiro does besides letting Daphne adjust his glasses, but because you realize what's carrying Hiro's storyline is the charm and energy of the supporting players: the intrigue behind the Haitian's mission, Ando improvising with the plan, Daphne offering popcorn in the theater. When Daphne adjusts Hiro's glasses, she's not just adjusting his glasses: she's usurping one of Hiro's trademark mannerisms. Essentially -- and probably without realizing it -- the show is saying that Hiro has lost what made him unique and relying on the characters around him to keep him unique.
Hiro loses his time-freezing and teleporting, and Daphne loses her speed and shows us that her normal run is a lot like Phoebe's. Which I'm going to assume is an intentional nod. It's possible that Brea Grant really is that uncoordinated, but I'm going to go with the theory that Daphne's ability comes to her so effortlessly that she doesn't need to try. It also adds a little depth to the medallion Hiro found last week, because if she was a clumsy and awkward kid before twelfth grade then getting her ability and becoming superfast and graceful would be like winning the superpower lottery.
The deactivation of abilities can only mean ...
Welcome back, Jimmy Jean-Louis!
Canine Central. Claire finds Meredith standing outside the house.
Am I the only one struggling to buy Meredith's good intent? I don't doubt that she cares about Claire, but the way she manipulated Claire and Nathan during the first season needed to be addressed here, if only with a couple of lines. Jessalyn Gilsig does a solid job with Meredith's portrayal as the streetwise less-a-mom-than-a-big-sister to Claire, and it's an effective way to foreshadow how Claire will emulate this hardened personality and become the leather-clad gun-toting Future-Claire. But we don't know how much Noah and Sandra know about the extortion, the money-grabbing and the way Meredith tricked Nathan into nearly never meeting Claire. Less a criticism than an oversight, but there was a conversation that needed to be had about how much the family can trust Meredith.
Claire asks her Cool Mom to teach her how to fight, which is kind of a slap in the face to the Normal Mom who raised two kids and a show dog and accepted her human-vivisecting covert-organization husband and self-regenerating adoptive daughter for who they were. Just saying, if that's not an uphill struggle worth learning from, I don't know what is. But if Claire wants to learn how to kick guys in the groin, she should try this.
Nathan braves the Ice Fortress to ask Tracy why she skipped his swearing in. Tracy brings up the way Nathan called her Niki Sanders the other day, then shows him the footage of the wild night her double spent with Nathan at the Corinthian and demands to know who she is. I'm going to take a wild stab at this: could her name be Niki Sanders?
Tracy: "Tell me what you know about her."
Oh, Tracy, don't go there. The show's lost enough viewers as it is.
The Heist of the Villainous Four continues. We learn that Knox called the cops to alert The Company and lure Noah to the scene. Which works out pretty well for him, but it's a plan that relies on a lot of variables: Knox couldn't have known that Angela would release Noah from his cell, he couldn't have known that Noah would stick around to recapture the inmates if Angela did release him, and he couldn't have known that The Company would even hear about the heist unless it was run by people who actually follow the news ... which, judging from the scene coming up, wasn't an option that Angela had considered.
The German balks at Knox's plan because all he wants is to take his share of the money and leave. Which, again, really doesn't strike me as the scheming of a mastermind bent on world domination so much as a quick and easy escape plan.
Knox explains that the scared hostages are "powering [him] up," which provides a solid rationale for why he wanted to carry out the heist during the day. The fact that the German also pulls a gun on Knox at least partly explains why Knox kills him and only beats on Weevil later on, although the bond between Knox and Weevil is also developed in this week's graphic novel, even if the majority of viewers have no way of knowing that.
Knox puts his fist through the German. And by that, I mean he actually ...
... puts his fist through him.
They killed The German? But I was saving the Sauerkraut jokes!
Damn, that was quick. I guess they'll need to thin the herd pretty fast if they're planning to show us all 12 of the escaped inmates, but I figured these four guys would be the focal group. I didn't think they'd off two of them and imprison a third so early in the season. It screams "We have a plan!", which is reassuring, but it also gives the show a chance to reinforce how ruthless Knox is. Which, again, is partly in the details -- particularly Knox casually wiping the blood off his hands with the German's jacket -- but also Jamie Hector's embodiment of the role, because the guy's so charismatic and plays Knox with such volatility that the scene comes to life every time the camera cuts to him. You're afraid for the camera man because you're not sure if Knox is going to pat him on the back and tell him he's doing a good job or rip his head from his shoulders and use it as a football. After a scene like this, you realize why he's the villain who ends up in Angela's dream after the other ones fade away.
We return to Matt and Usutu in the Desert of Clairvoyance, although you'd be forgiven for forgetting this story thread existed because it's so far removed from the others.
Matt and Usutu are walking. Yes, it really is that exciting. Matt's starting to look seriously blistered from the sun, which earns the make-up department a couple of points. It's also kind of funny that rescuing Matt from this scorching sun is at the absolute bottom of Future-Peter's checklist of Things To Do before he returns to the future.
Usutu continues to blather about how it's not right that Matt's here, and how he was told on his spirit walk as a boy that he was destined to paint Matt's future ...
Read that again. It's just ... horrible. Not the storyline itself (although that's pretty bad), but the level of torture inflicted on this guy. Can you imagine dedicating your life to painting Matt? The traffic directing, the coffee ice cream after sex, the leaky pipes?
We get a glimpse of the tedium Usutu was saddled with when he got this gig:
It's amazing, it's even got Greg's Herculean hands and Adair Tishler's perky little nose. Usutu probably decided that if he was stuck with painting this garbage he might as well do it accurately.
Usutu: "This I painted when I was a boy. I'm not a boy anymore, Parkman."
Did anyone else just find themselves humming the chorus to Britney's "I'm Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman"? I'd do a multiple choice for what's on Usutu's walkman, but you're only going to need one guess.
The highlights of Matt's life: the Superhero Square Showdown ... when Matt got shot with his own bullets. And the time he got thrown out a window. And the time he got his mind-reading frequencies jammed while trying to read Peter. And those are just the highlights. Poor Usutu.
Midas Study. Sylar puts on a suit and slicks his hair back, and looks ...
Doubtful? Conflicted? Remorseful? Repentant? Guilty?
One of those. Or he's just playing Angela.
Angela consoles her boy, telling him it's not his fault that he's a murderer and that it's just his ability; and that he has a hunger that he can't control, which, at least on some level, I guess Angela can relate to.
It goes without saying that Angela wanted Sylar to buy into this, but a more interesting question might be whether the show wanted us to buy into it. I'm not sure whether we were expected to buy that Sylar's a victim of his own ability and that, if you took his ability and his "hunger" away, he'd be a decent guy. Angela's obviously manipulating him, but is the show trying to manipulate us? Is it trying to persuade us that a psychopathic serial killer is "misunderstood" and good on the inside? Or is the message that the abilities corrupted a man who was rotten on the inside from the beginning, and that no amount of conditioning or rehabilitation could "fix" him? If we're pausing to think about that, I think the show's playing the moral ambiguity motif the way it wanted to.
Gehen wir ins Kino! I know I shouldn't ask, but do you think Hiro and Ando bought tickets to this screening? We see the Haitian with a ticket and Daphne probably sped past the usher, but I have a hard time believing Hiro teleported to an exchange bureau to cash a few euros. Criminal. Moral ambiguity indeed.
Daphne and Hiro exchange not-so-witty banter, although Daphne's as amusing as ever when she says she doesn't care if the world ends as long as she gets paid, and when she demonstrates how separable Hiro and Ando are. But Ando telling Daphne that Hiro's his best friend and that they'll "never leave each other's side"? Aw. He probably doesn't realize how he just jinxed their friendship, but we do.
Desert of Clairvoyance. Matt looks at more paintings of his life, I continue to feel bad for Usutu for such a thankless calling, and we finally discover that a painting of Matt with a cute-looking blonde and a baby ... isn't going to happen anymore. I wonder what else in Matt's life isn't going to happen anymore, and whether painting what isn't going to happen might actually be more creatively rewarding for Usutu than painting what does happen to Matt. Usutu blots out this family portrait, plugs in his headphones and starts off on the glazed-eyes mania. And, I kid you not, Shenkar's wail when this happens is DEAFENING. Did someone in the editing room think we wouldn't realize this is a momentous moment in Matt's life? (Side note: this clearly constitutes a highlight in Matt's life -- I wonder if Usutu can paint Matt watching him paint Matt?) Did they need to clobber us over the head with a musical accompaniment so loud it could shatter windows just to convey that This Is A Very Important Moment For The Character? Because I think we got that part just fine anyway.
Heist of the Villainous Three. Sylar does a remarkably convincing job of masquerading as FBI Agent Hanson, chastising cops for failing to adhere to barricade regulations and throwing in a free decaf for Noah. Which, aw, but also wow: for the nod to AudreyClea, for the ingenuity Sylar demonstrates, for Noah's disbelief at the way Sylar threw himself into the role, and for the switch in the role that Zach usually plays. It's not quite as funny as Hiro trying to communicate with Nathan in broken English at the diner back in "Hiros," but it's on that level. Hilarious, delightful and surprising.
Knox agrees to let the hostages go in exchange for Noah.
Sylar: "You do realize they're not gonna let you out alive?"
Noah: "Well, that's very touching -- a monster cares about my well-being."
Sylar: "You're so concerned with proving you're better than me that you're willing to get yourself killed."
Noah: "I am better than you."
Great dialogue, and great delivery. You watch a scene like this play out and you almost wish the story arc wouldn't end so we could get more like it. The actors bounce their lines off one another so fluently and the tone between them is so bizarrely familiar, you wish every episode could have scenes like this: snappy verbal sparring between two complex characters, villains trying to be heroic, ordinary people being extraordinary without abilities; this is what makes the show great.
Tracy visits the Dawson Superhome. She finds Niki's surprisingly uncharred body in a casket and meets Micah. Micah follows the Season Three Honest & Forthright Trend and skips to asking Tracy about her ability and telling her about his and Niki's abilities. Which moves the plot along, but also somehow makes Micah even more adorable when you remember he's grieving and an orphan and still trying to help a stranger -- mostly because she looks like his mom, but probably also because he encapsulates what it is to be a hero.
Micah technopaths his way through the web and establishes that Niki and Tracy were born at the same hospital on the same day and with the same doctor. And, again, even though you know this scene is basically just functional -- "Tracy finds her double and learns who can give her answers" -- Micah's bond with Tracy is so poignant that you realize what this show lacks because of the character's absence.
Heartbreaking. And after a scene as moving as this, I defy the show to justify why Micah and Monica were written out while a glorified big kid like Hiro gets to stay.
Um Mitternacht im Kino! We learn that Mrs. Sendhil Ramamurthy is a Company Agent, which is all kinds of awesome. The Haitian meets her behind the movie screen and spends about fifty billion years scrutinizing Angela's half of The Formula, either because he doesn't trust Agent Ramamurthy, or because he has a photographic memory and knows he'll need to reproduce the document after it inevitably gets stolen. Either way, the Haitian finally verifies its authenticity and starts to exit the theater. But he didn't finish watching the movie!
Then:
... the show's ability to surprise us is redefined. Future-Peter being the shooter? Tracy being an ice queen? Angela being Sylar's mom? They all pale in comparison: ANDO'S PLAN TO PWN THE HAITIAN WORKS!
To recap, Daphne's adjusting Hiro's glasses, the Haitian's supplying general charisma, and Ando's doing the thinking for Hiro. And ... for some reason Hiro's still the center of this story thread.
A lot of useless yammering between Hiro and Ando ensues. Daphne finally snatches The Formula and zips away before Hiro can teleport after her. The Haitian has regained consciousness and is mightily peeved. The popcorn is funny, but after an episode that reminds us how tired the Hiro slapstick farce has become, it's also a little sad.
Heist of the Villainous Three. Knox interrogates Peter-in-Weevil while Flint administers obligatory punches to the gut. Noah is brought in and strapped to a chair.
Knox: "You took away my life!"
Noah: "You're a criminal, Knox."
I love how Coleman delivers that with the same I'm-just-a-paper-salesman tone he used with Matt and RadioTed back in "Company Man." It says a lot about the way Noah communicates with a super who wants revenge on him, but also reminds us how calm he can be in a crisis situation. Great consistency in Coleman's performance.
Peter-in-Weevil insists that "NO ONE DIES TODAY!" and lets out the EchoSoundWave ... which looks a lot less impressive than Echo's did. It's understandable given the budget concerns which Beeman mentions in his blog this week, but also a little mystifying given that the webisodes are made with a fraction of the show's budget. Maybe time constraints factor into it, but where Echo's ability was an elegantly-conceived, progressive ripple, this is a blur with papers getting blown about.
Peter-in-Weevil KO's Flint with the first wave and is in the process of unleashing another less-than-stellar EchoSoundWave on Knox when Future-Peter shows up and freezes time. I wonder if he found out about the heist by watching the news the way Noah did. It doesn't seem like he absorbed Molly's ability at Superhero Square back in the Season One finale, although I can't see why he wouldn't if he got D.L.'s phasing ability. But then, Future-Peter using the SuperGPS to find Present-Peter is like trying to find himself on a map, which would probably confuse the hell out of the ability until it said, "Hey, quit screwing around with me! I'm for finding other people, not yourself, you idiot! I'm ashamed to be one of your abilities! Unabsorb me RIGHT NOW!"
Future-Peter surveys the scene and gives Knox a loooooong and meeeeeeaningful glare. This tells us there's An Important Backstory for these two. [Note to editors: this was achieved WITHOUT a deafening Shenkar wail.] Future-Peter then pushes Present-Peter out of Weevil. Which, like the EchoSoundWave, could have looked better, but it's veiled in the awesomeness that is two Peters meeting while time is frozen and bickering about what's wrong with the world.
The two Peters teleport away from the bank, leaving poor Noah to fend for himself against Knox and Flint AND Weevil. Thanks a lot, Peters! That's the last time Noah does either of you any favors. You could have at least tied the villains up and locked them in the safe.
Knox is about to pummel Noah when Sylar shows up. Knox gets TK'd to a standstill, Weevil gets the TK Choke, and Flint gets shot by Noah. And on the one hand that sucks because these guys were supposed to be about 10 times more villainous than Sylar, so neutralizing two of them while Noah gets a clear shot at the third is a little disappointing; but at the same time this scene is such a vindication of Angela's belief in Sylar and it's such a thrill to see the look of surprise in Sylar's own expression when he realizes he's doing a good job. In the end, plot points be damned. When you see that knowing half-smile between Sylar and Noah, you don't care if it makes sense or not. It's too much fun to care.
Meanwhile, somewhere near Canine Central, Meredith persuades Claire to step into a cargo container with her.
Cool effect, and if the scene itself weren't so disturbing I'd be relishing the prospect of reviewing a scene in which two gorgeous blondes get hot and sweaty in a container. The jokes end there, though, because Meredith going pyrokinetic on Claire until she thinks she's suffocating is both brilliant and seriously messed up.
The flashbacks to Claire getting scalped at the house help to bring the horror to life, but they're also relevant to establishing why this scene is effectively a continuation of the scene at the house. If Claire's trauma from that experience is what causes her to become so angry, these two scenes set up the character's arc for the rest of the volume -- and, in all likelihood, the rest of the series. As a way to establish the psychological damage done to Claire, this is about as intense and unnerving a way to do it as the show could have come up with. I'm not sure if it's ironic that the money-grabbing, manipulative bio-mom is the one to force Claire to confront her anger and admit that her core motive is vengeance; but the fact that the super who Noah assigned to protect Claire is the one who convinces her that her old life is over seems laden with irony, particularly when Noah's half of the duo who caused the fire that brought Claire into his care, and particularly when it's his career in The Company that put Claire in danger in the first place.
Each episode this season has had at least one outstanding scene for Claire: the scalping at the house, standing in front of the train, now being tricked into thinking she's suffocating and admitting her goal isn't as altruistic as she claimed. What's remarkable is how believably each scene sets up the character we met at the start of the premiere, and how easily that lets us buy into Claire's darkness in the future. It's also remarkable for the way it sets up Claire's agenda to be the same as Knox's: a victim driven to revenge on the person who made them feel helpless.
The scene continues at Canine Central, where Meredith apologizes to Claire but tells her she "did it for [Claire's] own good."
... Which Claire doesn't seem to agree with, and which I'm not sure I agree with either. If there's a flaw in this storyline, it's in something that's overlooked rather than flatout nonsensical. I can buy into Meredith's love for Claire, but I think the episode needed to develop Meredith's motives for fireboarding Claire: did Meredith want Claire to confront her sense of helplessness or her anger? Was Meredith trying to placate Claire's sense of violation or harness it? Was the idea for Claire to accept what happened and return to a normal life (as she says in this scene), or was it to spur Claire on to act on her need for revenge? I struggled to get a handle on the way this storyline was resolved because it was left so open-ended. Meredith was portrayed as shrewd and smart and perceptive in this episode, so the idea that Claire would deal and move on once she'd been forced to confront her rage seems oddly naive. The look on Claire's face throughout this scene -- even when she's smiling -- telegraphs the can of worms that the scene in the container opened, and it's strange that Meredith -- for all her shrewdness and intelligence and perception -- wouldn't realize that.
It's also strange that Meredith would fall for the cheerleader-sleepover-retreat story, but that's just plain Dumb As Award material.
Point being, I hope the show expands on Meredith's motives for the scene at the cargo container. To say it was for Claire's "own good" doesn't go far enough, not when the experience obviously screwed Claire up even more. Meredith zeroes in on Claire's sense of entrapment when she's in the container, and she points out that Sandra "smothering" her will only make Claire push back even harder, but I don't think the show expanded enough on Meredith's aim when it came to confronting Claire's sense of entrapment and claustrophobia. Which, in an episode with the Deafening Shenkar Wail, is both surprising and strangely delightful, because it leaves you wondering what to think instead of having the Correct Conclusion smashed over your head.
The Heist of the Villainous Four concludes ... without an actual heist. And without any of the original four who enacted it. This is because one of them got super-suckerpunched, one of them gets shot and taken back to his Basement cell, one of them escapes, and one of them, as we now learn ...
... gets a bloody nose? Or a bleeding lip? Maybe? Come on, show, you didn't need to kill 'em all this fast.
Bye-bye, Weevil. We wish you'd had more to do on the show besides playing Milo's reflection.
We draw to a close. Tracy visits Reseda to track down Dr. Zimmerman, who unfortunately is not played by Robert Picardo, although it would have been such an awesome Star Trek shout-out if he was. Zimmerman mistakes Tracy for "Barbara," although it could also have been "Barbra," which would explain a LOT. Perhaps in line with references to the way Linderman "arranged" Micah's birth in Season One, we learn that Tracy is the one from Beverly Hills -- one of several who was "created." Dun-dun-DUN!
Aw! You know you should ask what a copy of 9th Wonders is doing in Africa, or at least in Chatsworth, but as with so many delightful touches in this episode, it's difficult to care.
Matt eats berries, listens to Britney, and ...
... gets the Isaac clairvoyance? Are they kidding us with this stuff?
Oh, hell, we had Andrew Hanson and Claire getting fireboarded. I don't care what they come up with anymore.
V.O. Mohinder monologues about our search for self, for answers and for purpose. Nathan turns to the Bible. Claire takes the Rogue with a stack of Noah's Primatech folders and disappears, and Angela puts Sylar back in his cell, although she's not looking disappointed with him so much as optimistic. Who can blame her; Sylar saved her from having to sacrifice another Company employee.
And Hiro and Ando are Sylar's cellmates on Level 5, which undermines the villainy of the Level 5 inmates quite considerably, but also lacks suspense because you know that any guard posted there will let Hiro out the moment he threatens to recount his storyline from Season Two.
Or even his storyline from this season so far.
I'm docking points for the Hiro slapstick. Otherwise, close to perfect. A near-flawless script, some superb thematic work, and some wonderful and surprising comedy.
4.5 out of 5]]>
It's not like they fixed everything, but this episode was a significant step up from the premiere when it came to consistent character behavior, coherent storylines and development of the volume's predominant theme.
We start out with a great scene but preface it with a device that generally sets alarm bells ringing in viewers' heads: the soft, melancholy piano. This will be Searingly Beautiful Television, it tells us. What raw and cathartic anguish awaits us? What new heights of emotional resonance will it scale?
Sandra sweeps glass from the floor at Canine Central while Claire sits in the shadows and resembles an inanimate object. You wouldn't immediately think of that as a dramatic achievement, but when you realize that most of Hayden's acting on the show involves some kind of movement or animation on her part, acting like a statue becomes a performance in itself.
The other part of the scene that plays so well is Ashley Crow's restraint as the distraught mother: Sandra says how angry she is, but we don't see her shouting or sobbing or looking like she's about to start pounding her fists on the table; which is the perfect way to play it, because bottling up what everyone's feeling somehow conveys the family's sense of violation much more intensely than over-the-top hysteria would.
Leather-clad Future-Claire shooting Future-Peter was good. Two great actresses doing their thing and opening an episode with material as disturbing as this? It's unbelievable. It's not like the show should start with the aftermath of pseudo-rape every week, but a hard-hitting scene like this encapsulates everything that made this episode good: strong acting, well-written and well-delivered dialogue, and the ramifications of what these characters are going through.
In the context of the show's backstory, you also have to wonder whether Sandra even realizes how much she empathizes with Claire and how this conversation would have gone if Sandra hadn't been Haitian-whammied after the last time Sylar came into their home.
Claire cuts herself on a shard of glass and doesn't feel a thing. Again, the brilliance is in the detail: subtle acting from Hayden when she conveys her dismay at not feeling pain, and from Ashley when Sandra winces at the wound; it could be a maternal instinct, it could just be that the sight of the blood makes her want to puke, but either way it's a world apart from Sandra watching Claire plunge her hand into a pot of boiling water and West pinching Claire's ear to see if it hurts. This sets up Claire's sense of isolation from humanity so much more effectively than contemplating whether or not to cut off her toe.
Meanwhile ...
Angela has a prophetic dream. Which is the same one she had in the half of Season Two we never got to see, but it looks so great and it's so deliciously creepy that I'm thrilled the show worked it into the new season.
Hiro gets stabbed with his own sword, Matt gets his throat slit, Noah gets shot, Peter's stomach gets ripped open and Claire gets beheaded. I wonder if Sylar would be so confident about the instaheal ability after seeing that last one.
But he does! Sort of. He shows up in the dream to place his hands on Angela's shoulders, and is anyone else totally flashing back to every time Angela ever did that exact same thing with Peter and Nathan? It's the kind of nuance that gets buried beneath the rest of the awesomeness in this sequence, but looking back, you can see how the show worked in details like this to build up to the Sylar/Angela reveal.
It's already been shot down in interviews, but the resemblance is uncanny. I could easily buy the hint in the graphic novels that these two were related.
You have to wonder how reusing this footage changes the original idea behind it. Chances are this was supposed to be Jessica instead of Tracy. Or maybe the plan was to bring in a new personality all along and Tracy really will turn into a badass during this volume. I hope so because Ali Larter's proven how good she is at playing evil, but the flipside is that you have to feel bad for an actress who's essentially grappling with her fourth character on the show and now possibly having to turn her slightly-sleazy political advisor into an out-and-out villain. Ali Larter must be looking at every actor on the set with irrepressible envy for the way they can build their characters' voices and mannerisms over the seasons.
As with the Adam/Tracy shot, great way to put a new villain side-by-side with an ElderSuper and integrate the new villains with the previous ones. It's intriguing that Knox is the only one of the escaped Level 5 inmates in this dream. It could be that the other convicts will be caught or killed before they become precog-dream-worthy, or that Knox is by far the most vicious of the lot. If you're cynical, the reason that Weevil, Flint and The German aren't here is probably because the show hadn't conceived or cast them when they shot this sequence.
Angela wakes up from her dream and goes straight to the Apartment of Hospice Luxury to blame Future-Peter, who's not bothering with the Present-Peter visage while he's tying strings around the apartment the way Future-Hiro did.
As with their scene in the previous episode, the actors exude the characters' hostility. Angela is courteous enough to knock at the door before she comes in, but the glare she gives Future-Peter as she steps through the door is priceless.
Future-Peter: "There are things I know. Things you can't see, MOTHER. [Perfect condescension.] I've seen what you become. [Raised eyebrows that speak volumes.] I've seen what you do."
What she does? In the future? I have my own theory, but I wonder what he meant by that.
Future-Peter acts like he doesn't care whether three million people die as long as it's no one he knows and cares about. Angela pounces on this and brings up the subject of someone he does know and care about -- "someone like C-..."
C-?
C-C-C-?
^ ^ Currently suffering existential oblivion in a nonexistent alternate future!
You could poke holes into the plot and ask how Angela knew Claire had been scalped when she hadn't yet taken the reins on the Company and didn't apparently have anyone watching the house. I guess she could have dreamed it, but that'd be dreaming that the granddaughter she claimed to care about was getting her head ripped open, and I have a hard time believing even Angela could foresee something like that without trying to intervene.
All of that said, this brings up a nifty twist to Future-Peter telling Claire to stay in Costa Verde instead of coming to Odessa to transfuse Nathan; presumably if she'd packed her bags and left the house sooner she would've been long gone by the time Sylar got there, Sylar wouldn't have gotten her ability, the Company agents would have tasered and captured him without any problems, and history would have unfolded the way it originally did. So Future-Peter screwed up history just by telling Claire to stay at home.
Oh, no. It's that time of the episode, folks. Be brave. Here we go.
Maya visits the Apartment of Clairvoyance. Notice how the camera's focus starts with her chest area. Not a big deal, just saying. There's also some discussion to be had about Maya's expanding wardrobe; is she buying these vibrant orange tops and designer capri pants a couple of days after her brother died, or does Chandra's Crib just happen to have these items stashed in the closet for special occasions? Matthinder shippers and fanfic writers, you know you want to go there.
"Dr. Suresh?" Aw. I choose to believe it's a sign of admiration and respect rather than a hint that Maya enjoys "playing doctor."
You want to be happy for the actor. I can't remember many occasions when Sendhil got to do stunts, or even smile on this show, even if he's only smiling here because he's deranged. There's almost as much to be praised about Sendhil's performance as there is about Milo's: the overt confidence, the arrogant swagger, the nervous excitement. You look back on the way Mohinder's story thread dragged throughout so much of the first season and you want this storyline to make sense. You wish it could have been developed over a few more episodes so that there could be a solid rationale behind the character turning into this.
We learn that Mohinder has increased strength, agility and energy. And that he can work a Spider-Man wall-scaling sequence on a TV budget. And that Sendhil's been working out over the summer until his six-pack's ready to compete with Milo's. It's largely to Dania's credit that Maya gets through almost all of this scene maintaining eye contact with Mohinder.
Mohinder reassures Maya that it's only a matter of time before he figures out how to reverse abilities as well as create them, which is sort of sad because -- coupled with Sylar's promise to help Maya find Chandra -- the implication is that Maya will (per Maya Character Facet #4) fall into the arms of anyone who says he can help her.
Aaaaand here we are! The hands! The hair-stroking! The earlobe-fondling! The tearing off of the vibrant orange top! The rampant making out on a work surface! It's time for "Dr. Suresh" to finally "help" Maya with a thorough "examination"!
We return from the opening sequence to Matt in the desert.
^ ^ Pretty!
Besides that, there really isn't much to comment on in this story thread, so we're going to get it out of the way right now: Matt walks and walks and walks and walks and walks, and it's hot, oh it's hot, it's unbearably hot, and Matt's thirsty, so thirsty, he's so thirsty and hot, he can't go on, and, ooh, vulture! And eventually he collapses. That was riveting. Then Matt wakes up and a turtle tells him to use the root of a plant for water, which is funny, but then we realize it's not the turtle talking but in fact the awesome Ntware Mwine, who's totally wasted in this episode because first he's forced to plug Sprint and then he's forced to ask Matt whether he knows Britney Spears, which either says that a guy's pop culture knowledge in an African desert is 10 years behind, or that Kring's knowledge of pop culture is 10 years behind, which isn't really the point of the scene, but, anyway, the important thing we learn --
-- FINALLY! --
-- Is that Ntware's character Usutu knows Matt's name and has Isaac's ability to paint clairvoyant images. And that Matt isn't supposed to be in the desert. Which, duh.
Meanwhile, near Canine Central, Sylar's merrily strolling through the suburbs with his little red folder, the sun is shining, and a cheerful guitar strums over the soundtrack.
"No, no, no, you idiots! It's all wrong! I want something meaningful! Something with contextual relevance and theatrical impact! I WANT BROADWAY!"
We never get to know the characters on the screen, but it's a subtle nod to the graphic novels that we find out how this encounter with Sylar derails the life that Gael and Bianca would have had if they hadn't been killed here.
It's not like he would have come quietly, but to be fair, he is putting his hands up like they asked him to, he is backing off as they approach, and he doesn't get much of a chance to follow their instructions and get on the ground before they start plowing taser probes into him.
Between the cheerful guitar music and the perspective from the camera in the car, this whole scene was played for laughs. The goal in the previous episode was to make us hate Sylar as much as possible, and it seemed like that was still the goal at the start of this episode. This sketch is funny, but I can't help wondering whether it would have been more effective as a serious scene, one where we knew Sylar was destroying two people's lives and ensuring they'd never get a chance to raise a family and grow old together. There wasn't an obvious way to do that because we weren't introduced to these Company agents on the show and a couple of lines of dialogue weren't going to make us care much about them. But if the show wanted to vilify Sylar, showing how he destroys two people's future together would have been as effective an approach as any.
Welcome back, Midas Bob!
Welcome back, Ellectro-Entity!
Bob blames Elle for letting Sylar escape with the Mohindaire Cocktail and taunts her with recollections of emotional neediness after Mama Bishop died. This screams for explanatory flashbacks, but it also underlines how far the character has come from the Slusho-slurping sex kitten last season, and how psychologically complex the show has managed to make its Company cautionary tale.
Yamagato Empire. Hiro hires "discrete" [sic] private detectives to scour the scene and find Daphne's fingerprints, and we learn that Hiro has trust issues after witnessing Darth Ando work the Force Lightning on Future-Hiro. The "discrete" detectives identify the thief and her address, and Hiro and Ando teleport to Speedy Maison, where ... Oh, God, they actually stuck a CG Eiffel Tower in the background? Oh, show. Why stop there? Why not have some poor extra cycle past the window with a beret on his head and a baguette and a bottle of wine under his arm?
We cut to Boxleitner HQ, where Malden seems to have changed his mind about Nathan being his guy. The about-turn isn't as bad as some of the character's dialogue (among the most painful auditory inflictions, I kid you not: "God and politics -- risky bedfellows!"), but it's the first real glimpse we get of Tracy and the way Ali Larter's playing her. The whining and helplessness are gone, the dangly earrings are gone, and, perhaps sadly, so are the limb-ripping and nightstick-snapping. Instead, there's a no-nonsense briskness to this personality's stride and an impatient forcefulness to her mannerisms. And ...
... She's blatantly manipulating Malden with the batting eyelids and mischievous smile and irresistible charm.
All of which are to Ali's credit. I don't think the twinkle in Tracy's eyes is entirely the character: Ali genuinely seems to be relishing the chance to step into a new role, and a lot of that translates to the subtlety of the performance.
William Katt gets his cameo as the Greatest American Hero to ever end up as a slimy reporter. It's an awfully brief role which I wish could have been longer, but it does afford the show some continuity with the lasvegasniki.com storyline, and it does give Tracy the chance to threaten Katt with, "You run this story and I will hunt your ass down and destroy you." Which makes me go from merely liking the character to adoring her.
Costa Verde Beachfront. Claire restarts the Jackass Mutilation Tape and we witness Attempt #7:
It brings back everything that was great about Claire's character arc in the first season -- her confusion and despair -- but also ignores everything that was bad about her arc -- the selfishness and the bratty rebellious streak.
Beeman wonders on his blog what people thought of the effects sequence. One word: wow. Beautifully shot, to the point where I would never have guessed that the Peter portion was digital; the grainy quality of the camera helps, but the entire sequence as Peter flies in and pulls Claire from the track is so smooth that you can't tell where the stunt ends and the CG begins.
Also, one of the best snippets of dialogue of the night:
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like? Trying to get hit by a train!"
We have an emotional moment between uncle and niece ...
... Which I don't want to ruin.
Paire shippers, rejoice!
Claire bemoans the way she can't defend herself and the way she's "just a victim." In Claire's defense, she did thwack and knife Sylar until he nearly bled to death.
Then Claire wins a
*PING!*
Dumb As Award for asking Peter to "teach" her to fight Sylar.
"What should I do, Peter?"
"Well, this ... is the TK Maneuver. And this ... is the Ellectrobolt. And this ... is the Supersmash. And this ... is the Levitation Slam. And this ... is the Nuclear Overload."
"Oh. I don't know if I can do any of those things."
Tracy visits Nathan at the hospital and gives millions of adoring fans the chance to see a cheeky Pasdar grin. As with Sendhil, it's such a rarity on the show that you want to smile with it. Then Nathan recalls the "pretty good time" he had with Niki and sees the blank expression from Tracy, and Adrian captures Nathan's disappointment so perfectly: his words sputter to a halt and you can't help laughing because he's so pitiful, but you also laugh because you know this personality won't be able to resist Nathan any more than the other two could.
Then Tracy takes a step forward to introduce herself, and the way this is shot ...
... is just phenomenal. It's beautiful on a surface level, purely because the way the light and the shade play across Ali's face is so photogenic. But when you think of the symbolism behind it, with the whole split-personality backstory and the hero/villain dichotomy between Niki and Jessica, you have to applaud. I don't know if that's Beeman or Goodman or Lieberman's magic, but whoever came up with that deserves a bouquet.
At the Midas Study ... THERE'S A CELLO SIGHTING! And then ... Damn, it's bye-bye to Midas Bob.
I'll let slide that Sylar went from West Coast to East Coast in, like, less than an hour. I'll even let slide that he found the Company facility so easily, because the first explanation that springs to mind is that these idiots were dumb enough to print Noah's Badass Villain profiles on company-headed paper and led Sylar straight to the address.
But Bob? Ned Ryerson? That's almost as unforgivable as killing off Papa Sulu! Midas Bob, who flew around the world to recruit Mohinder and reached out to Niki and loaned Monica an iPod.
Farewell, Bob! Your scenes were a pleasure to review!
Elle looks like she's somewhere between choking and gasping on the sight of her dad in the chair. Kudos to Kristen for the way she played this, because it was the first scene since the one where she gave her mini-bio to Peter to convey how completely the actress has gotten under the character's skin. The way she plays it, it looks like she's not just grieving -- she's grappling with grief itself. I'd love to see a flashback that embellishes that, because we don't know if Elle's ever really cared about anyone besides her parents, so we don't know if she even realizes what she's supposed to feel when she finds her father dead.
Elle goes down to The Basement and immediately releases Noah. Sylar shows up to TK Elle to the ground. It's telling that he lets Noah shoot him repeatedly instead of TK'ing the bullets in mid-air or the gun out of Noah's hands to begin with. It could be that he wanted to test Claire's ability with bullets, but more likely he just wanted to demonstrate Claire's ability to get a reaction out of Noah, which is further evidence that he likes to mess with the Bennets' heads before he tries to trap or kill them.
Was there any chance that Sylar was going to scalp Elle? The tension and suspense are built effectively enough that -- at least for a moment -- you wonder. It's hard to believe the Sylar piano theme would be playing if this wasn't a triumphant moment for the villain, or that the writers would have Peter-in-Weevil going as berserk as he is in his cell -- beating the windows and bellowing at Sylar -- if something seriously bad wasn't about to happen. But then, that's the idea.
Elle goes Uber-Ellectric, Sylar gets KO'd, and the doors in The Basement all open. The out-of-it perspective as Elle regains consciousness was an interesting choice by Beeman; it works because we're left feeling as powerless as she is, and the whole "less-is-more" horror approach plays into these villains seeming scarier. It's a little disappointing that we don't know who breaks out: we get a glimpse of Weevil and Knox and The German, and a blurry image of the one who's going to turn out to be Eric Doyle, but I wish we'd at least gotten a look at the rest of the villains who are going to cause that "unimaginable destruction."
Here's where the tone of the episode backfires. Comic relief is great, and balancing out an episode as intense as this with a few jokes works in theory, but when you go from Elle's short-circuit and the worst of the superpowered population on the loose to this:
... You know something's gone wrong. The transition from a scene as involving as the previous one to a scene as lighthearted as this one falls flat. It's great that Hiro admits why he's so mistrustful towards Ando, but it's impossible to get lost in the narrative because you're so much more invested in the characters from the previous scene. You know you should care what happens in Daphne's apartment because The Formula needs to be retrieved, but you don't, not when it's peppered with Catwoman jokes and humor about gold bars and medallions; all you want is for the scene to be over so that you can find out what happened to Elle and Noah and Sylar and Peter-in-Weevil.
We cut to Nathan at the hospital. Nathan tells Peter that he's been offered a position as a senator. Peter congratulates Nathan with a bordering-on-deadpan "That's incredible." I'd love to know how it all went down in Future-Peter's original timeline: whether Nathan went public about his abilities and still got the job, and whether Peter's totally unenthused because it's the start of Nathan orchestrating the mass superhero culling; or whether it's just that Peter really doesn't give a crap about Nathan's political career because something else is going to happen to make any decision Nathan makes now a moot point. Or maybe Future-Peter just doesn't give a crap about politics.
Like Hiro with Ando, Future-Peter comes clean with Nathan by revealing the scarred Future-visage and admitting he's the one who shot Nathan. Milo and Adrian deliver stellar performances, but what works in this scene is the way the whole timeline-altering end-of-the-world issue is second to the betrayal issue. The focus isn't the damage Future-Peter causes to history or the impact Nathan's speech has on the superpowered population; it's Future-Peter's guilt over lying and trying to kill his brother, and it's Nathan's willingness to forgive that because Peter -- no matter which timeline he's from -- is still his brother. It's the family conflict at the center of the drama that makes the story so compelling.
Nathan calls Tracy to accept her offer, Katt shows up next to Tracy's car with footage of Nathan and Jessica at the Corinthian, and then:
There's a new Ice Queen in town!
Peter swooping in to save Claire from a train? ... was good. Elle going Ellectric in The Basement? ... was great. Tracy going cryokinetic on the Greatest American Hero? Now THAT? ... is awesome.
It feels like less of an homage to Terminator than an appropriation, but it's so cool that it almost makes it OK.
We return to The Basement and learn that they've pretty much got the place back under control. Which is kind of a shame because I would have wanted to see what happened as the inmates left the building and moved onto the streets, at least more than I would have wanted to see Ando picking up gold and Hiro reading the inscription on a medallion.
Angela visits The Basement before Elle has a chance to test the brain matter/wood chipper theory on Sylar. It suddenly occurs to me that Angela might not even know how her son was locked up in this building for months after exploding over New York. Probably another detail from Season Two we're supposed to forget, but I wonder if that would make Angela more or less ticked off with Bob and Elle right about now.
Angela: "With your father's death, the chain of command falls to me."
Bob outranked Angela? I always figured the Petrellis were second only to Linderman and that Angela just didn't care about day-to-day operations within The Company. Apparently Angela was closer to Papa Deveaux and Papa Sulu's level, which still seems to be higher than Maury or Victoria and the rest of the Lesser ElderSupers but nevertheless comes as a surprise. I don't care if they've shelved every other idea from Season Two -- that "1977" episode needs to happen!
Elle: "I ... we ... caught Sylar."
Again, great delivery by Kristen. You wonder why Elle paused to rephrase it, but it's delivered so naturally that you buy Elle's insecurity.
Angela: "Good for you!"
Hilarious at the same time as infuriating. You hate Angela for being so insensitive, but even more so for treating Elle like a child.
Was Elle doing such a shoddy job as a Company agent? She struck me as a little reckless when it came to Ellectrocuting an Irish pub owner, and she failed to zap the guy who's about to be revealed as Angela's son, but to only have stayed because Midas Bob was sticking his neck out for her? That's harsh. She doesn't seem any more incompetent than the other agents we've seen -- on the show and in the graphic novels -- so I'm going to go with the theory that Angela had a prophetic dream on her way to The Basement and realized she needs to release Elle in order to fix what's happened. It's also the only way I can reconcile Angela releasing an unstable Company agent into the world when she's likely to blab the truth to the first person who listens and Ellectrocute the first person who looks at her the wrong way. I would have expected The Company to have a firm procedure in place for agents who want to return to a normal life. It probably involves killing them.
With the central drama resolved, we return to Speedy Maison. Daphne shows up and looks mightily p**sed about Hiro holding her medallion. Hiro teleports around the room, Daphne reveals that The Formula's behind the Mona Lisa, thereby awarding Ando a
*PING!*
Dumb As Award for not looking around the apartment thoroughly enough. The outcome is that Daphne runs off with The Formula.
So, at the end of this episode, how has the Hiro story moved beyond where it began? Hiro started out looking for Daphne because she had The Formula, and he's still looking. He found her because the detectives got him an address, and now he can find her because he's attached a tracking device to the medallion. Which is nice and all, but does anyone get the sense that this story thread is lacking momentum? Daphne's an entertaining character, but she needs more to do than chasing Hiro around an apartment for a medallion.
Mohinder wakes up in the Apartment of Clairvoyance and discovers that -- dun-dub-DUN! -- he's becoming ...
... part of an appropriation of The Fly! Now all we need is for Maya to blow his brains out. Don't do it, Heroes!
Noah returns to Canine Central. I can't figure out if we miss the tearful reunion because Noah's so busy gathering his files, or because everyone's so freaked out from that last time Noah came home that he's not even going to ask if anyone's happy to see him.
Claire randomly comes down the stairs and there's an Aww! moment. Noah cryptically tells Claire that "something" has happened, which immediately sets alarm bells ringing after a season of Bennet Secrets & Lies. To everyone's amazement, Noah follows suit with Hiro and Future-Peter and reveals everything about the Basement Cons and their abilities. We learn that Knox has the ability to absorb fear and convert it to strength, that Flint is a blue-flame firestarter, that The German is Magneto, and that Weevil ... is really named Jesse, but that he's also apparently so bad that Noah doesn't want to tell us about him. His profile says "Sound Manipulation," which may or may not be Echo's ability from the webisodes. Again, the show seems to be very cagey about revealing these characters; I hope we find out at least a little about them before the volume's over.
Claire begs Noah to let her be proactive and courageous and idealistic and help bring the Basement Cons in. Which brings her a step closer to becoming Elle, but also leads to a shock when it turns out that Noah and Sandra are happy to leave Claire under the protection of ...
... Mommy Firestarter?! Which, yay, but also huh?, because this skipped over a whole bunch of questions that really need to be answered. As far as we know Noah didn't even know Meredith was alive, so how he found her or contacted her is anyone's guess. It seems like next week's episode goes into a lot more detail about the vibe between Meredith and Sandra, which is a relief because you wonder how Sandra could be OK with Claire's biological mom dropping in and undermining her. You also have to wonder how Noah settled on Meredith as the model protector for Claire instead of the Haitian. Not a plot hole by any means, but definitely a development in the story that brings up a lot of questions.
Future-Peter shows up at The Basement, presumably with the intent to remerge Present-Peter's consciousness with Present-Peter's body and be all, "Hey, Past Self, it's me! Well, shucks, I screwed up history by making Sylar invincible, but hey, no one found out! And I saved Claire from getting hit by a train! And I decorated your apartment with string! It wasn't a total waste of a trip! Laters!"
I couldn't help wondering how much Future-Peter knows about the bond between Angela and Sylar. When he says "Sylar" here, it's not clear whether it's an exclamation along the lines of "My mortal enemy!" or whether it's more "My brother!"
Angela doesn't care one way or another, she's just appalled that Future-Peter chose Weevil as a vessel for Present-Peter's consciousness. Which I'm not sure I agree with, because Francis Capra's an ideal choice to portray Peter as bewildered and anguished and desperate to warn his family about the impostor posing as him. Only problem is he doesn't get much of an opportunity to do that. The moments at the gas station with Weevil's reflection show that the actor's obviously capable of playing Peter, but for whatever reason all we see of the person inhabited by Peter's consciousness is Peter. It's not necessarily a bad move to show us Peter when everyone else sees Weevil, but it would be nice if Francis Capra got a chance to play more than a reflection.
Peter finds himself not quite himself, then gets mixed up with a group of morally questionable associates involved in morally questionable activities. Recycled plot device? Pretty much, although this one does come across as a lot more compelling than the last one.
Flint torches some random woman at the gas station and The German beats the living daylights out of some random car driver. And Peter ... just watches this happen? I guess he could be so confused about the bodyswap that he's too disoriented to intervene, but he was coherent enough to phone Nathan so it's not like he's completely zoned out. Maybe he figured it was too late to save the burned-to-a-crisp lady or that he wasn't strong enough to take on three superpowered cons at the same time. Or Peter's just an idiot who couldn't make up his mind what to do. You decide. Whichever explanation is correct, I thought it was puzzling.
And so we come to The Big Reveal. Angela steps into Sylar's cell, accompanied with solemn choral music that tells us something gothically chilling and momentous is about to take place. Angela loosens Sylar's restraints and assures Sylar she can give him "what all boys crave from their mothers." Which isn't really an admission, but Angela's eyes here?
There's a concern and sincerity in that expression that goes beyond metaphorical maternity. There's warmth in that look, which is so unusual from a character like Angela that if there's a caveat to undo what Angela says, it's going to feel less like the show played us and more like it misled us.
"My name is Sylar, and you are not my mother."
"Oh, but I am, dear. I am."
^ ^ On-screen reaction imitating our reaction?
You can hear the collective THUD! of jaws hitting the floor across the nation. It's not the story that shocks us, it's the fact that the show was willing to stoop low enough to go there at all. I predicted that Peter and Sylar were brothers back in "Parasite," but the catch is I WAS BEING SARCASTIC. I didn't think they'd actually resort to soap-opera tactics in order to keep the principal villain relevant.
Is there a catch? I hope so. I hope it turns out there's a DNA-splicing test-tube twist that culminates in a mass Parkman-and-Haitian-Whammy-induced conspiracy in which no one ever had a clue that Sylar was related to Peter and Nathan. Because that would suck, but it would be less desperate a maneuver than making Sylar a Petrelli and a brother to Peter and Nathan.
I'm not counting this against the episode. It's lifted right out of daytime soaps, but I'm putting faith in the show that when they say "Nothing's what it seems" they really mean it.
Besides the slow pace of the Hiro and Matt threads, this episode had almost nothing working against it and almost everything working for it. My complaints are mostly about what we didn't see, and in most cases the weaker parts we did see are only weak because they're starting out slowly. This episode continued the thematic work that the premiere began, it showcased some terrific performances from Milo, Kristen and Cristine, and it recaptured the emotional resonance that made the first season so compelling. It made us care about the characters and their predicaments, and it made us want to see where the story goes next.
4 out of 5]]>
Sure, the brunette thing's been done, the "black leather = baaaaad person!" thing's kind of overused, and the "hooker look" ... well, yeah, that's valid.
Who cares. She looks GORGEOUS!
Future-Peter finds himself at gunpoint. I'm not sure why this gets him so panicky. Between the instaheal option, turning invisible, letting the bullet phase through him, TK'ing the gun or the bullets across the warehouse or -- as turns out to be the solution of choice -- freezing time and teleporting out of there, it's not like Peter wouldn't have a dozen escape methods.
We learn that this future is similar to the one in "Five Years Gone": superpowered individuals are being hunted and herded and vivisected and forced into hiding. Future-Claire reminds Peter that she's "different" and "SPECIAL," and I kind of have to put that in italicized block capitals because there's just no other way to convey the venom Hayden spits it out with. Great delivery and, in retrospect, great echo of Sylar's words at Canine Central after he scalps her.
"Sorry, Peter. I always loved you."
Oh, come on! That's a niece talking to her uncle? Are you kidding me? I don't care how innocuous those words look on paper. The way she says it? That's no niece talking to her uncle. That's a reason for everyone who ever wanted the show to retcon the Petrelli family tree to celebrate. Paire shippers, rejoice!
Future-Claire shoots, Future-Peter freezes time and the bullet stops in mid-air with a plume of smoke behind it. Very cool. It loses a little of its impact after we've seen Sylar TK a bullet to a standstill, but that's the first of many instances this week of, "It worked in Season One and they're using it again."
Future-Peter removes the gun, teleports away and time restarts.
Am I the only one surprised at the way Future-Peter's flying by the seat of his pants here? It seemed like the shooting last season was planned and timed pretty methodically, but the way it plays out here -- he just happens to find Future-Claire with a gun he can use to shoot Nathan, he just happens to find a hat and a coat at the police station to disguise himself -- he's making it up as he goes along.
But here's the problem with making it up as you go along: you end up winning HeroSite Dumb As Awards!
*PING!*
Chalk one up for Future-Peter for the most extreme and unnecessary solution he could come up with.
Nathan takes two bullets to the chest and Future-Peter returns to the closet where he hides his gun behind a box of GRR ILLA Drum Liners. Inside joke? He then runs with Present-Peter in hot pursuit. As we later learn, this is the moment when Future-Peter morphs into Present-Peter and ... switches Present-Peter's consciousness into Weevil's body and inhabits Present-Peter's body? And, what, Weevil's consciousness is still in Francis Capra's body and just submerged beneath Peter's? Or did Future-Peter teleport Present-Peter's body AND Weevil's consciousness into LimboLand and are they just floating around out there until Future-Peter works this bodyswapping whammy again? That needed a little more explanation.
Nathan's brought into hospital, and at this point ...
won't make it.
Nathan being brought back to life: Ghost Linderman working the Be Healed Whammy? Future-Peter working the Be Healed Whammy after unknowingly absorbing Linderman's ability as a kid? Or just classic Petrelli Brotherly Bonding workings its magic? You decide. Whichever it is, for reasons yet unestablished, Nathan lives. Which, AWESOME! But it also kind of kills any suspense that death has on this show. Unless we follow the off-screen drama and know that the actor got a gig on another show, there's really nothing to keep the writers from bringing anyone back now. If it isn't The Magik Blood, it's the Be Healed Whammy. And if the person working the whammy's dead themselves -- well, there's an unestablished plot device to fix that too. Heroes has beaten Death!
Opening credits. I'm delighted that Cristine Rose is finally a cast regular but dismayed that Dana Davis and Noah Gray-Cabey are nowhere to be seen. Sucks to be Monica and Micah.
Yamagato Empire. Hiro sits in Papa Sulu's office and messes around with the clock. He wants a purpose in life, a chance to prove that he's a hero and a chance to save the world.
So, basically, he's where he was at the start of Season One.
You could take it as a throwback to the pilot. It strikes me as more or less a negation of everything that happened to Hiro over the past two seasons. After what's barely a couple of months in Hiro's life, the implication is that he's ready for new adventures and ready to move past everything that happened. "Everything" being losing the love of his life (the first one), putting a sword through someone (and, for all Hiro knows, killing them), betraying and blowing up his childhood hero, watching his father murdered by his childhood hero, and finally burying his childhood hero alive.
You'd think that Hiro would be a little less cavalier about playing with the clock; I get that it's meant to be funny, but in this kind of context, with this kind of backstory, it comes across as callous, particularly when Hiro's sitting in his dead dad's office. But you'd also think that Hiro would welcome a little normality in his life. The implication after Season Two was that Hiro was ready to go back to his old life. Judging from this scene, that didn't last long. Instead we get him playing with the clock and telling Ando he's bored. Woohoo.
What sounds like a sitar *twang* tells us this is A Scene Intended For Comic Relief. Ando enters the office calling Hiro "sir." We learn that Hiro owns 51% of Yamagato, and that Papa Sulu obviously screwed over sister Kimiko.
OR DID HE?
"Two hundred and fifty million in cash"? They don't say whether it's Japanese Yen or U.S. dollars. If it's Yen, it's barely $2m. (Check it!). Which isn't peanuts, but methinks Kimiko's happily living on a tropical island she bought before Hiro even thought of the inheritance.
Hiro reminds Ando that he "saved the world ... twice." I can't figure out if he means the time he didn't kill Sylar or the time he teleported Adam out of Primatech and left a highly contagious strain of the Shanti Virus about to smash on the ground. Either way, Hiro leaves out the part that involves him inadvertently manufacturing the crises he then has to overcome: chances are Kensei wouldn't have been so p**sed off if Hiro hadn't stuck around in 1671, and chances are Tokyo wouldn't be exploding this week if Hiro hadn't opened the damn safe.
Canine Central. Claire packs a bag, presumably planning to call Sandra a few hours later and be like, "Hey, Mom, I'm going to New York to transfuse my Bio-Dad after he got shot ... No, Mom, they haven't caught the shooter yet ... Yeah, Mom, I'll be careful ... Well, I think if he blows my head off I might not regenerate, but the show's getting a little hazy about that, so we'll tempt fate ... Love ya!"
Then ...
Dun-dun-DUN!
So calm! So composed! So civil!
Papa Sulu! Welcome back, George Takei! They can bring you back from the dead anytime they want!
"If you're watching this, then I am dead ... And it's all your fault because you made Adam angry 400 years ago by stealing his girl and then you let him throw me over a rooftop and, you know, I was only trying to be profound with all that talk about Destiny! You were supposed to save me! What kind of son are you? That's it, Kimiko's getting everything!"
OK, maybe he doesn't say that. But he should!
"I have left you my fortune ..."
I love how Hiro gives a little bow to the TV screen when he hears that. I don't know if that's a Masi improv, but it's a neat touch.
Hiro is saddled with "a sacred duty," one that involves harboring "a dangerous secret."
Oh, dear God, Papa Sulu's going to tell Hiro about the affair with Angela, isn't he?
Hiro's sacred duty is ... to never open the safe! Which, of course, he immediately does.
I'm not awarding that a Dumb As. Papa Sulu rigged the safe to open with Hiro's fingerprint so obviously he wanted Hiro's curiosity to spur him on. This whole Tokyo-exploding thing is still Hiro's fault, but it's not like Papa Sulu didn't indirectly help to put it in motion.
Hiro gets a look at The Formula:
... Which apparently is part of this volume's end-of-the-world storyline. Papa Sulu then rambles about protecting this half of The Formula with a Chosen One with pure blood who can be The Light that safeguards The Darkness. All of which is intriguingly (/exasperatingly) cryptic and effectively sets up the story arc for the next 12 episodes.
The Formula disappears from Hiro's hands and Hiro freezes time.
Beautiful effect, and an ability in a character that's beautifully owned by Brea Grant. I was fully ready to hate this character. The Hiro/Daphne Batman/Joker analogy grated my last nerve when it was used for the billionth time over the summer, mostly because it never rang true and you could tell right away that Daphne was going to be an antagonist rather than a villain. I'm pleasantly surprised because she comes across as charming and refreshingly direct here. I can still see this being a reverse-Elle and Daphne going from quick-witted and snarky to obnoxious and petulant, but Daphne's a lot less annoying at the outset than Elle was.
Hiro introduces himself, straightening his posture and placing his hands on his hips. Masi improv? Again, seems like something he'd come up with.
Hiro asks Daphne if she moves "fast," and Brea Grant gets this delightfully insulted look. And then glares a bit. And then asks whether time would stay frozen in Tokyo if they both went to Bangkok, which is a question I've been wondering since way back when Hiro was making origami cranes. Yeah, Daphne's cool.
And getting cooler when she decks Hiro. Given the way Hiro's been acting this episode, I wonder whether the writers wanted us to applaud Daphne for it.
Odessa Police Department. Peter returns to the GRR ILLA liners to retrieve Future-Claire's gun and, presumably, shoot Nathan again. Matt finds Peter searching for the gun, realizes that Peter might be an accomplice to murder -- or, somehow, a suspect -- and ... steps into the closet with Mr. Superpower and ... closes the door? Without backup? That's really dumb.
Dumb As Parkman, you might say.
*PING!*
It really is going to be a battle between the two heavyweights this season, isn't it?
Future-Peter jams Matt's mind-reading frequencies the way Maury did and teleports him away. The remarkable part of this scene is in the detail: the way Milo staggers his performance as he drops the Present-Peter charade even before he morphs back into Future-Peter; you can see how Peter's smile dissolves and his head tilts down and his eyes narrow. Again, subtle acting. It's also a cool sequence for the way Future-Peter TK's Matt towards him rather than just reaching out to grab him, and for the way the teleporter remains where he is while the teleportee gets whisked away.
Nathan visits a chapel and, driven by delirium as near as I can tell, speechifies about God, our hopes and dreams, and how we can only make our lives meaningful if we work together.
It goes without saying that Heroes operates with religious undertones. I think it's always done a solid job of not letting the undertones become overtones, but this is a remarkable turn for the show -- and for Nathan as a character -- because it effectively turns the biggest non-believer into a believer.
It seems like the "delirium" part is what's crucial. If Nathan's in his right mind then the epiphany carries real weight and suggests that the most cynical and power-hungry guy can find faith and redemption and a higher purpose for his ability. On the other hand, if he's just delusional -- or, worse, putting on an act -- then the show's essentially dismissing the idea that the characters' abilities on this show can be God-given. Not that the same thing hasn't been implied in the past; between Adam and a couple of the graphic novels, the implication is that these abilities evolved over millennia; between the Haitian and now Maya, the implication is that God doesn't grant salvation before nature or scientific progress do. And with the whole Formula storyline now being set into motion, the angle the show's taking seems to be that it's less about God and more about DNA-splicing.
If nothing else, it's an interesting acting challenge for Adrian. It's bold of the show to bring a religious motif to the forefront at the same time as pushing the opposite angle with the Formula storyline, but I wish we hadn't been left with a message that seems to boil down to, "People with abilities only attribute their ability to God if they don't understand the science behind their ability, or if they're delirious and the ghost of a dead guy tells them Divinity brought them back."
The episode cuts from a religious motif to a scientific one that involves tyrosine, dopamine and cortisol. It all sounds ... plausible. Can anyone vouch for this stuff?
Then ... Oh, no.
Gaaaaaaaaah!
You know where this is going, people! You can see it coming A MILE OFF, but being prepared for it doesn't make it any less obscene or any less unbearable. Please, show, STOP! There's a superpowered psychokiller out there! Maya's brother was just murdered! MAYA was just murdered! Mortal danger! Lethal abilities! I'd expect this kind of idiocy from Maya, but Mohinder? FOCUS!
There's chemistry between them, no doubt about it, but that doesn't mean this makes sense. There was chemistry between Mohinder and Niki. There was chemistry between Mohinder and Matt and Mohinder and Noah. IT DOESN'T MEAN THEY SHOULD MAKE OUT!
Off topic for a second:
Lizard-Mohinder lives!
Mohinder has prepared another Magik Cocktail: this one will give anyone an ability. Maya's all, "Hey, GIVE an ability? What happened to, you know, REMOVING MY DAMN ABILITY?" But Mohinder doesn't seem to care much about that. I'd say it's "out of character," but right now I'm stuck on "totally bizarre."
Canine Central. Claire's still trapped in the closet.
It's possible Sylar didn't get back all of his abilities from the Mohindaire Cocktail last season. It would explain why he doesn't liquefy the chain on the closet door or TK the door from its hinges altogether. I like the theory that Sylar already knows he's going to catch Claire and that he's deliberately taking his time and savoring the experience. It's debatable because Sylar's generally a "Get in, scalp 'em, get out" kind of guy, but we've seen him leave Noah alive in a Company cell instead of killing him, and we've seen him terrorize Sandra before he decided to kill her. You could argue that he wasn't interested in harvesting an ability from either of them, but I think Sylar has a fixation with this entire family that goes beyond taking Claire's ability.
Folks, if you're squeamish or eating while you watch this episode, look away during this scene, 'cause ...
Dayum!
We learn that Sylar acquires abilities from his victims by poking around the inside of their brains and ... looking at them? But that he definitely doesn't eat the brains or take them to a shrine or anything. Which is a defining moment for the character as far as a lot of fans are concerned. Frankly, I didn't care one way or another. Future-Peter's scar? The truth about Papa Petrelli's death? Mr. Muggles's special ability? Those are questions I want answers to. I can appreciate why people loved this, and why they loved the "Eat your brains? Claire that's disgusting!" line, but to me, it felt like fan gratification. There's nothing wrong with a token to the fans, but there should be a point to it. Giving Daddy Bennet a first name made sense because he was going to stick around and needed more than a second name and "HRG," but did we need to know what Sylar did with the brains?
This scene saddles the show with a villain who's now close to invulnerable, but also -- and perhaps more importantly -- with a character who's now emotionally and physically numb after being traumatized by an experience that borders on violation. I think the show was brave to go there at all, but the way this was written and staged, it's hard to ignore the implication behind Sylar breaking into Claire's house, getting what he wants from her, leaving her distraught and walking away feeling proud of himself. Given the theme of the volume and the revelation that Sylar's a Petrelli, it seems like that was a challenge the show intentionally set itself: to make us wonder what's worse than a serial-killing pseudo-rapist, whether Sylar can be forgiven, and whether he can be redeemed or reformed. I'm not sure how I feel about the show going there in the first place, but, at least creatively, it's bold of them to film a scene like this with the express intent of then challenging our disgust and hatred towards the character and attempting to overturn that antipathy.
Props to Hayden and Zach for the way the way they played this scene, because you can see how Hayden's playing Claire as bewildered at the same time as horrified, and how Zach's playing Sylar as civil at the same time as monstrous. I love how Sylar's actually considerate enough to return Claire her scalp and to close the door on his way out. That's a testament to the actors' skills, but also to the distance their characters have come since the show started, because you wouldn't have imagined a scene like this when they made "Homecoming."
Sylar: "I couldn't kill you even if I wanted to."
Claire has a "WTF?" face, and so do a lot of us, because, hey, tree root? Shard of glass? Bullet to the head?
"You can never die. And now, I guess, neither can I."
Settles the debate about whether or not Claire's ability extends to immortality, but also forces us to ask whether the show's writers are making this up as they go along. If Adam or Claire or Sylar's brain matter goes through a wood chipper, they're dead. I don't see how the show can get around that, so I'm just going to assume that Sylar's wrong.
Maya visits Mohinder at the Apartment of Clairvoyance and implores Mohinder to destroy his research.
"No, we're doing this for SCIENCE! For HUMANITY! For unspecial people EVERYWHERE!"
I guess you could argue that the prospect of fending off Sylar with a power of his own is so thrilling that Mohinder's blind to all reason, but I don't buy it; I don't buy that he's developing this serum to stop Sylar or to protect Molly, or even to help Maya. He's doing this because he's thrilled to make a scientific breakthrough, he wants an ability of his own, and his ambition and greed outweigh his conscience.
All of which are plausible, but the show ain't gonna get there in one episode, and when it tries, this is what you get: Maya suddenly posing as Mohinder's conscience when, for the duration of the show, Mohinder's been Mr. Conscience. He's the guy who berated Bob for daring to decide who lives and who dies. He's the guy who couldn't bear to test the Shanti Virus on Monica. He's the guy who battled with his conscience over whether to betray Noah if it saved the population from an epidemic.
With all of that in mind, the ethical dilemma is now limited to:
"But Mohinder, what if some poor sucker shoots up a power and ends up with something like mine?"
"It's like a box of chocolates, Maya -- you never know what you're gonna get."
"But what if your research falls into the wrong hands?"
"Err, I'll give myself an ability and fight 'em!"
And this in a volume that promises moral complexity? I hope it gets better than this.
We cut to Bruce Boxleitner in a hotel room and see Ali Larter in lingerie.
She's gorgeous, and I appreciate that every show needs gimmicks and a little flesh to boost its ratings, but it used to make some kind of sense in the context of the story: Niki stripping expressed something; it said something about her financial desperation, about her struggle to look after her son and her determination in the face of adversity. Even Jessica sleeping with Nathan said something about the alter ego stepping in for her sister to help her out of a tough situation with Linderman. As near as I can tell, this was here purely to boost the ratings. You could have taken out the shot of Tracy slipping on the gown and nothing in this or the following episode would have been affected.
It's great that Ali Larter's back, it's great that she's getting a new character to play, and, yes, it's great to see her in her underwear. It just would've been nice to get that in a reasonable context where it conveyed something besides, "Ooh, watch this, there's a hot blonde in lingerie!"
CG Tokyo. Ando suggests going back in time to ask Papa Sulu what he was rambling about, and Hiro's like, "No way, never going back in time ever ever again." Which is short-sighted of Hiro because it makes more sense to figure out why anyone would want The Formula in the first place than to just see what losing The Formula causes. Then again, if going back in time starts another seven-episode subplot about how Hiro needs to "fix" history, it might be in the show's best interests to rule the option out completely. Well played, writers.
Hiro goes forward four years into the future. How does he know how far forward to go? Beats me, but it's awfully convenient because not only is this the exact moment to gauge the destruction Hiro's little quest causes, it's also the exact moment he witnesses Future-Ando whooping Future-Hiro's ass. This Future-Hiro doesn't yet have the soul patch or the ponytail, but Future-Ando?
Unspecial Ando becomes Darth Ando and works the Force Lightning!
It seems Ando's going to betray Hiro. I think it's more likely that Hiro betrays Ando, but that's only because James Kyson Lee's not nearly as good at playing a badass as Masi is.
Now THAT? ... is impressive. I love how it's such a detailed and progressive shot: how it goes from the crumbling buildings to the fire to the roads being torn up to the cars falling.
The effect itself? Impeccable. But it's like Ali Larter in lingerie: its impact depends on the context. Tokyo exploding at least has some context with The Formula, but it's essentially a rerun of New York exploding in Season One: we've seen it before, and -- like the bullet frozen in mid-air -- it loses its impact the second time round. It's a better visual shot than New York being leveled in "Don't Look Back," but it lacks the suspense and the shock because we've seen it before. It seems like the show is desperately trying to imitate itself; that it's taking its strongest elements from previous seasons -- an exploding city, future versions of the characters, lots of cool superpowers and a Big Mystery To Be Solved -- and reworking them.
Hiro returns to the present. "We've gotta find that formula." As in, "We've gotta find that sword"? Hopefully not.
The Ice Queen returns!
Peter waits for Angela outside Nathan's room, and the hostility when they have this little confrontation? You can feel it radiating off the screen, the actors play it so well. Angela immediately realizes this guy's a fake and demands to know where Present-Peter's gone. Big Reveal Of The Episode #52,864: Angela's ability is precognitive dreaming. Which sounds cool, and judging from the dream we see in the following episode it looks cool, but how useful does it turn out to be in practice? It explains Peter's dreams about flying and meeting Claude and Peter exploding, but in terms of batting average, this ability's pretty useless: she never saw the New York bomb plot falling apart, it doesn't seem like she knew about the Shanti Virus outbreak or that Adam and Maury were coming after her until it was too late. And the day-to-day things? She couldn't even plan a sock-stealing caper without getting caught. Seems like Isaac's ability trumps Angela's, at least as far as accuracy goes.
Angela lambastes Peter for shooting his brother. Peter lambastes Angela for creating The Formula with the ElderSupers. There's a whole lot of lambasting going on until Angela -- and I'm not making this up -- grabs Peter by the jacket and slams him against a wall. That's got to be the most aggressive thing Angela's ever done on the show. Even better than slapping Papa Sulu.
We get a glimpse of The Basement and our first look at Weevil, Knox, Flint and ...
... Noah?! He's Level 5 material? The Company has a few issues with him, but Level 5? It seemed like his deal with Bob at the end of last season was to come back to his usual job, not say goodbye to his family permanently and live in a cell. Either I was really slow on the uptake when it came to the deal, or that final scene at Canine Central in "Powerless" was even less clear than I thought it was at the time.
V.O. Mohinder returns to recite the Yeats poem the episode is named after. We cut to Canine Central, where Sandra and Lyle find Claire looking seriously messed up. We cut to Matt in an African desert, where he works a cool trick and uses his mind-reading as a radar to find out if anyone's in the area. Also?
The Boulder of Clairvoyance!
Finally, we find Mohinder at Superhero Harbor.
Melodramatically staged, but beautifully shot. Mohinder injects himself with the serum, we have the Obligatory Convulsing That Signals An Important Physiological Change, and then Mohinder wakes up to a couple of random guys at the harbor trying to rob him and works the superstrength smackdown on them.
Thieves attack one of the mains at a harbor and get their asses handed to them? It's another recycled plot device, but at least it's without the fake Irish accents. Or the iPods.
Also?
The Warehouse of Clairvoyance!
This episode was by no means terrible, but it wasn't the finest when it came to consistent characters or original storytelling, and it wasn't the epic return to form a lot of us hoped for.
Hiro's character arc and storyline bugged. It's like his story over the past two seasons never happened, and, Papa Sulu and some neat visual effects notwithstanding, it's like his entire storyline about witnessing a catastrophe in the future and making it his mission to avert it is taking place all over again.
Mohinder's storyline bugged. Which might not be entirely his fault because he's been coupled with one of the weakest characters the show has created, but it isn't helped by a rerun of Mohinder preparing to up and leave and then bizarrely turning out of character just because he figures out how to give himself an ability.
And Matt ... wasn't around much at all. As per Season One. So it's difficult to say how his story thread's going to play out. With hindsight after the second episode, it's not looking great.
All of that said, plus points go to several of the other threads, and in some cases aspects of the less-stellar threads: the Claire and Sylar stuff was well-performed and well-shot, the Future-Peter and Nathan stuff was thought-provoking, and the Daphne and Angela scenes were electric. There were also some genuinely cool details throughout that showed a lot of hard work went into making the episode. Problem is, you judge a show on what it makes of itself rather than what goes into making it. This is a season premiere that makes itself by cannibalizing its previous counterparts rather voraciously.
3 out of 5]]>
Mohinder has A Box.
Sort of the way Peter had The Box; the difference being that the contents of this box aren't a mystery that'll be dragged out over several episodes with little or no pay-off, and that it's the core premise behind Sylar visiting Mohinder, which means we actually care where the box is and what's in it.
Mohinder stumbles into Chandra's Crib, and it's a deeply disturbing (/indescribably delightful) Mylar reunion. Did we need to sit through 10 episodes to get here? No. But now that we're finally here, it's a pleasure to watch. It also seems like Allan Arkush is intentionally trying to echo the history between Mohinder and Sylar in the apartment, because the way Sylar slides out of his chair and towers over Mohinder is eerily reminiscent of the way he broke out of restraints after Mohinder pumped him full of curare. Tense moment, and you wonder whether Mohinder's going to end up pinned to the ceiling again. Then ...
"Is that my apron you're wearing?"
Does the nod go to the props department or the costume department? Whichever it is, A+++. That's just ... genius. And it reminds you how good this show is at blending drama and horror and comedy.
Zach Quinto's having a blast with this scene, and it radiates from his performance. Sylar's so obviously enjoying confusing the hell out of Mohinder, and he's so obviously thrilled to be playing Maya for a fool, and it's kind of oddly enjoyable and thrilling to watch this little spiel play out.
Maya explains to Mohinder that she knows Sylar's a killer, and that she too is a killer. And, true to Maya's ability to make every scene visually compelling regardless of content, Mohinder gets the kind of expression that can't be conveyed with words:
"You know he's a killer ... and ... you're a killer ... and ... you're OK with this?"
"It doesn't matter anymore. I'm a part of your story arc now."
"What kind of alternate universe is this?"
Eleven episodes in, Dania Ramirez has the opportunity to express something besides distress, contempt, guilt, and naive infatuation.
Maya is angry. Like, demonically angry. That's FIVE facets to her character we've now had the privilege of witnessing. Wow. I'm sure everyone will agree that this more than qualifies Dania Ramirez for a cast regular slot -- the one which still eludes Cristine Rose and Ashley Crow.
I'm not saying the actress won't eventually earn it. Just that, on the strength of what we've seen so far, it hasn't been justified. Shalim Ortiz deserved it as much as Dania did; which is to say, NEITHER OF THEM DESERVED IT.
Sylar agrees with me.
"Don't even think about pulling that 'ALEJAAAAANDROOOOO' crap with me, woman!"
Everyone's eyes blacken, including Molly's, and Maya experiences Facet #3: Guilt. She applies the self-control that Sylar helped her achieve last week, mercifully sparing us another instance of her bellowing
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Apartment of Hospice Luxury. We learn that the murder charges against Angela have been dropped. It's unclear whether Angela's grateful to Nathan for getting her out of jail, or whether she's even glad to be out. As with Papa Sulu's death wish, it seemed like Angela was content to accept punishment for her role in The Company. By the end of this episode, though, it's as if it never happened. Angela's back to her devious scheming, neither of her sons trust her, and the Ice B**ch is once again seemingly untouchable.
Nathan reveals that Peter's alive. Angela's reaction is again ambiguous; it might be shock, or it might just be, "Oh." I'm not sure.
Angela launches into YET ANOTHER rendition of, "We were lost, then we found each other; we tried to fix the world, but it all came to nothing."
Seriously, show, NOT AGAIN. Linderman's done it. Kaito's done it. Maury's done it. Bob's done it. And now Angela's done it. Which leaves only Papa Deveaux, Papa Petrelli, Victoria Pratt, and four unnamed ElderSupers to deliver it from their graves.
The next time it's mentioned, can we actually see some of it? Or at least hear something less oblique and more substantial? It's one of the most intriguing storylines of the show, and it's been limited to the same regurgitated account over and over and over again. And to dangle it in front of us at the end of a volume titled "Generations" -- a volume which should have explored it in detail -- can only be interpreted as an instance of this show's bleak sense of irony.
Angela describes how the ElderSupers all bought into Adam's crazy-ass plans to wipe out mankind and start over. Nathan gets this hilarious look:
"Can you believe I nearly let a city explode because of this woman?"
Angela accurately theorizes that Adam needed an empath with lots of cool abilities to retrieve Strain 138 from the Primatech Fun Factory, and that he "chose" Peter. Circumstances inside the Company Jail didn't allow Adam to be especially choosy, but you have to wonder if Adam spent 30 years in his cell watching single-powered supers in the adjacent cell come and go, waiting for a super like Peter who'd not only show up and break him out, but who'd also be pliable enough for Adam to manipulate once they were free.
The fact that the empath who Adam had been waiting for just happens to be the son of one of the ElderSupers who Adam manipulated 30 years earlier? That's just another of this show's amazing coincidences. But it makes for a nicely symmetrical story, and it ties in with the ElderSuper backstory, so truthfully, I don't want to criticize it.
Canine Central. Claire prepares to deliver Noah's Company paperwork to the press, presumably expecting someone to read through it and have more luck finding the Secret Door at the Primatech Fun Factory than a cop and an FBI agent had when they tried.
Sandra gives Claire a reproachful look.
Sandra's actual dialogue: "You're really going through with this?"
More appropriate dialogue: "What do you think you're doing you little brat! How @#*%ing selfish can you be?!"
Claire: "They killed Dad. They're never gonna leave us alone."
Yes they will! Just make a conscious effort NOT to alert them to your location by staging a prank that involves a masked flying man and a death-defying fall from 30 feet in the air.
Sandra's actual dialogue: "You do realize what'll happen to us if you tell everyone what you can do?"
More appropriate dialogue: "You self-absorbed little b**ch! Who are YOU to drag your brother and me into a situation that'll destroy our lives?"
Claire's actual dialogue: "No more running, no more hiding, no more secrets."
Thought process behind actual dialogue: "ME-ME-ME-ME-ME-ME-ME-ME-ME-ME-ME-ME-ME!"
Sandra starts telling Claire how she dreamed of her daughter going to college and getting married someday, and how she's terrified of her daughter being taken to some lab and experimented on for the rest of her life.
... And the tears are welling up behind her eyes ...
... And Claire's just ...
"Whatever!"
I'd suggest a Selfish As Claire Award, but on the strength of the character's behavior over the course of this volume, Claire would win it by a mile every week, which I guess would defeat the point.
Claire wanting to expose an organization which kidnaps individuals and vivisects them? That's understandable. Claire wanting to stop running and hiding? That's understandable. But Claire ending any semblance of a normal life for her mother and brother and wanting revenge on the organization which shot her dad WHEN SHE'S THE ONE WHOSE ANTICS ENDED UP IN THE NEWSPAPER AND ALERTED THE COMPANY TO HER LOCATION IN THE FIRST PLACE?
PING!
Selfish As Claire.
^ ^ Less selfish than Claire!
Elle returns to the Midas Study and tells her dad she's sorry for disappointing him. Which is kind of funny after she learned that her father's the reason she has a few screws loose in her head, but it's so saddening to see her plead with him for forgiveness when she was doing the best job she could, it actually makes me like Elle. And I'd just like to take a moment to say what a wonderful surprise that is, because after Elle's first appearance, I really, really thought I was going to hate the character. Not only has Kristen Bell portrayed a character who's easy to not hate, she's run with her material and created a character who's layered and complex. And considering she started out with little more than Ellectrobolts, obnoxious pouts and an ultrasonic whine as defining characteristics, to accomplish that inside of six episodes is an achievement. More of this in the next volume, please.
Bob tells Elle she's being pulled from all field ops. I call that an empty threat because it's obvious The Company has absolutely no field agents or subsidiary teams whatsoever, but Elle's demoralized enough to watch Noah throw a ball at a wall.
Elle ... watches Noah ... throw a ball ... at a wall.
^ ^ Dullest plot development ever committed to film.
^ ^ Redeemed by the immeasurable talent of the actors involved.
^ ^ Vindication for Veronica Mars and Dynasty.
Elle's eyes actually follow the ball as it's bouncing around the jail cell. You wouldn't think that'd be such an amazing detail, but watching the ball instead of glaring at Noah somehow supports Elle's playful nature. I don't know if that was Kristen's call or Allan Arkush's or if it was in Jeph Loeb's script from the start, but it's brilliant. The whole blurred-image swing-and-tilt lens throughout this scene wasn't working for me, but some of the nuances the actors brought to the table were flatout brilliant.
Noah describes how Bob was the one who pushed Elle beyond her limit, even after a relatively vicious b*****d like Noah wanted to dial down the Ellectrification. I have no idea if Noah's embellishing this for the sake of turning Elle against her father, but it just about fits with the timeline if this is the kind of thing Noah was witnessing when he shot Claude. Chances are most of this storyline hadn't even been thought up at the time, but Noah's insistence to Claude that Claire wasn't "one of them" suddenly takes on a lot more meaning; you realize how much Noah wanted Claire to NOT have an ability so that he'd never find himself in a situation where he'd have to push her the way Bob pushed Elle.
Bob tells Noah that Claire's "becoming difficult." Noah gets this proud "That's my girl!" smile. Bob is seriously alarmed. I'm not sure why; it's not like he hasn't covered up Company activity before, and there's nothing in Noah's records which Bob wouldn't be able to spin or deny. But apparently, an obstinate teenager presents a greater challenge than covering up a nuclear detonation over New York, burying the murder of a billionaire entrepreneur, then averting the media circus that would ensue when a newly-elected congressman suffered life-threatening radiation burns. It seems to me that Bob could have solved this latest problem by snatching Claire and throwing her into a cell next to Noah's.
At the Primatech Fun Factory ...
Anyone remember the exchange between Future-Peter and Future-Hiro?
Future-Hiro: "Shall we freeze time?"
Future-Peter [guttural growl]: "No, I haven't had a good fight in years."
This is so similar that it borders on self-appropriation. I don't know if it was an intentional echo, but it was equally cool and equally unsettling. I mean, Peter's TK'ing the guards and knocking them out without injuring them, but Adam? He slices one guard across the face with his sword so swiftly that the guy's going to be disfigured for the rest of his life, and slashes another of them in the leg so forcefully that he's probably going to bleed out before anyone finds him. And they're hidden underground -- NO ONE'S going to find them.
Peter? Buddy? You think perhaps, maybe, possibly, this man might not be as well-intentioned as he seems?
"No, I haven't had a good fight in years."
But Future-You said that! You were disillusioned and weary and hardened from years of oppression and persecution and suffering when you said that! You're supposed to be an idealistic hero at this point!
That comes later in the episode!
"I couldn't wait -- I'm evil."
I'm calling it now: the central villain of Volume Three will be Peter. With Matt right behind him. And Sylar and Adam and Maury somewhere in the hazy distance.
Peter and Adam reach The Imposing Vault. Eerie music plays. Solemn expressions appear on the faces of our heroes. This might be their greatest challenge yet.
It's not like Peter could, you know, PHASE THROUGH THE VAULT WITH ADAM HOLDING ONTO HIM.
PING!
Chalk one up for Peter, because only an idiot forgets his own abilities.
PING!
Chalk one up for Adam, because only an idiot forgets how he broke out of the prison he was locked up in for 30 years.
PING!
Chalk one up for the writers, because
PING!
I
PING!
expect
PING!
them
PING!
to
PING!
remember
PING!
the
PING!
abilities
PING!
of
PING!
their
PING!
characters.
Adam: "I guess you'll have to pry it open with that brain of yours."
Peter: "I'm not sure I have that sort of power."
But you have a brain! That's more than anyone else has got right now!
Adam: "Not much at stake here -- just the fate of the entire human race."
So, in case we weren't clued in to that when we saw the body bags, here's a sledgehammer blow round the head to hit it home.
Thing is, this story really is on a larger scale than the bomb plot. It doesn't feel that way because it's only been building up to this for four episodes, but there is more at stake. The problem is that a smaller volume, by default, means less time to build suspense. I don't know if it's true that the plan before the writers' strike was for Nathan to contract the Shanti Virus instead of getting shot, but if it is true, you can imagine how the show would have told the Shanti Virus story over the course of 22 episodes instead of cramming it into 11. The way it's played out, we didn't get a sense of the scale of the threat until Peter teleported to the future, and the past four episodes didn't generate the sense of impending disaster that 22 episodes did last season. That's one of the tragedies of this volume: its premise was on a larger scale than the previous volume's, but the abridged structure prevented it from conveying that scale. It's why viewers are less inclined to care about the death of 93% of the population now than they were about 0.07% of the population last May.
Peter asks Adam, straight up, whether he killed Papa Sulu. Adam admits, straight up, that he did.
... And Peter's going to stick to the original plan and help Adam get his hands on the virus because ...?
...?
...?
Forget Dumb As Parkman. We're onto Brainless As Maya.
Adam spins the situation by asking why Papa Sulu chose to keep Strain 138 intact instead of safely disposing of it. Which ... is actually a very relevant question.
ElderSuper backstory, please!
Then Adam remembers what Peter's first priority is -- "CAITLIN!" -- and manipulates him into TK'ing the vault open.
Let me get this straight: if Peter averts the outbreak of the Shanti Virus, Past-Peter and Caitlin will still teleport to Times Square in June 2008, only now it'll be populated and the disaster will have been averted and Caitlin won't get deported.
But if that's the case, Past-Peter won't end up clinging to a fence while he watches his girlfriend dragged away from him, he won't end up screaming "CAITLIN! CAITLIN! CAITLIN!", and he won't end up teleporting back to the past to meet Adam in the Montreal Junk Room.
But then, if he doesn't teleport back to Montreal, none of this can happen.
Or it can, but Present-Peter could now end up meeting Past-Peter.
HEADACHE!
The point being, WHAT HAPPENS TO CAITLIN NOW? Will she suddenly pop up in the future without Past-Peter in tow? Has she been wiped out of the space-time continuum along with the averted timeline? Does Peter have the ability to jump between alternate timelines and bring her back to this timeline?
I'm going to assume this storyline will be picked up again at some point, because if it doesn't, the hilarity behind Peter's motivation for wanting to stop the virus fades, and the love of Peter's life gets lost to the intricacy of a time paradox, which ... is kind of lame.
Team Mylar arrives at the Former Apartment of Clairvoyance, which Sylar doesn't hesitate to point out is where he scalped a clairvoyant artist. If only we could feel as bad about this death as we did about that one ...
Mohinder stalls for as long as he can, figuring the security cameras in the apartment will alert someone to the fact that Sylar's alive and about to get his powers resto-
Whuh? W-wa-waaaaait a second!
THERE ARE SURVEILLANCE CAMERAS IN THE APARTMENT!
The apartment which Mohinder went snooping around when he wanted to find the missing Mendez paintings!
Who cares?! Someone's actually using the surveillance cameras! It's a triumph for [PRODUCT PLACEMENT] Cisco Video Surveillance!
Midas Study. Bob gets three boxes of files, Angela gets seven (her punk-rock days were prolific), and Elle only gets one? And the box is empty? Aww.
Duzac's Diner. If you were a gangster in New Orleans and you'd been hired for an arson job, this is totally the place you'd be hired to burn down.
Monica tries to call Micah using her [PRODUCT PLACEMENT] Sprint cellphone. Micah uses Monica's cellphone to triangulate her location and track her down. And Niki gets the most favorable traffic ever because Micah's screwing around with the traffic lights.
OK, that last part's contrived, but it is funny. If I had that ability, I'd abuse it shamelessly every day on the way to work. And Micah only uses it when his cousin's in mortal danger. This demonstrates remarkable restraint on his part, and gives me reason to believe that, despite the fact that his powers are evidently growing exponentially, the ATM heist was a one-off which won't necessarily put Micah alongside Peter and Matt in Volume Three's selection of heroes-turned-villains.
Nathan flies Matt from New York to the Primatech Fun Factory.
As in, Petrelli Airways. Nathan flies Matt.
That's got to be the funniest thing ever to not be captured on camera.
Then the hilarity gets ruined by a joke which by now feels as if it's been used about 36,629,476,078 times.
"FRYING MAN!"
NOT AGAIN. It was funny the first time. It was a nice echo the second time. The third time it lost its humor. By now, it's just dumb. And unintentionally funny when you recall the last time these two characters met. Hiro should be all, "You already bad guy! You are virran! Virran!" for refusing to help Hiro and Ando stop the bomb last season. It was a while back, but for Hiro to somehow know that Nathan went on to save the day seems like a plothole.
Does Hiro recognize Matt as the guy who tortured him? Maybe he does and it's just not established on screen, but again, the continuity here felt a little sloppy.
But, hey, "FRYING MAN!" Funny. Or not.
THIS is funny, though. West stops by Canine Central to talk to Claire:
"Oh good, you're here! These two boxes are done. They can go in the car."
^ ^ Actual dialogue!
West: "I came to stop you."
"You mean you're not going to carry my boxes?"
Put your hands together for this, folks. This is a sympathetic character.
Claire: "These people ruined my life!"
Her life, but not the life of the woman whose husband is dead and whose daughter is about to bring reporters and cameras to her family's front door? Not the life of the boy who lost his father, and who's now going to be branded the brother of a mutant?
Can you believe there was a time when we wondered if West was good enough for Claire? I mean, I got to the end of this scene and I was sorry to see him fly away, because the way Claire was written this week, West comes across looking selfless by comparison.
Even he agrees with me. He can't believe what he's seeing.
Then ...
Behold -- Prototype Cyborg Noah!
Noah [monotonal Stephen Hawking voice]: "Hello ClaireBear."
Is it a robot? Is it Candice on drugs? Is it some kind of apparition? No! It's Noah ... being forced to return to his family. Which, OK, has got to be difficult when he needs to tell Claire to back off sabotaging The Company. But does that mean the reunion with the family who thought he was dead would be so ... robotic? I mean, shouldn't everyone be overjoyed that he's alive? Shouldn't he be overjoyed to see his family overjoyed? Shouldn't there be sonic waves of relief emanating from this house?
"Come on, guys! Is anyone happy I'm alive?"
"WTF?!"
"WTF?!"
Cyborg Noah explains he's alive because of Claire's blood, and that he made a deal with The Company that'll keep everyone alive and able to live a normal life and free to remain where they are in Costa Verde -- so, basically, everything short of a hi-def television and a free trip to Disneyland. And Cyborg Noah's STILL not feeling the love, so he finally drops the cyborg charade and emotes: "I never meant to hurt you." But they're not buying this either, so Noah just ... walks away.
WHAT. THE. @#*%?
What just happened here? I get that everyone's still in a state of shock and that Cyborg Noah's doing what he's been ordered to by Bob and isn't exactly the guy the family expected to show up at their doorstep, but WHAT JUST HAPPENED HERE? Was everyone in this scene compiling mental grocery lists while the camera was rolling?
Cyborg Noah [to Bob]: "It's done."
What, weirding your family out? Confusing them into stunned silence? Alienating them from their patriarch until they want to run away?
THIS is how the storyline was resolved before a hiatus?
Whatever. I'm sorry, but WHATEVER.
Former Apartment of Clairvoyance. I think it's extremely telling that Maya seems to have more chemistry with a pre-teen than with anyone else on the show. To be fair, Adair Tishler's probably very easy to get along with, and that probably translates to on-screen chemistry with just about everyone. And Maya hasn't had a chance to meet many of the characters, so there's not a huge basis for comparison. But it's also extremely telling that Molly's the one who needs to be reassuring and tactful with Maya instead of the other way around.
Molly offers to "find" Alejandro. I don't know if Maya expected to hear he'd miraculously traveled hundreds of miles and was already back home, or if she just wanted to know he wasn't wearing an orange jumpsuit or racking up speeding tickets after boosting a Ferrari or something. Either way, the responsibility of telling Maya her brother's dead falls to a kid. Which Molly handles extremely well by telling Maya that Alejandro's "not anywhere." Great euphemism.
Maya storms into the middle of the apartment and bellows, "YOU KILLED MY BRUUUUUTHER!" And Zach Quinto's expression here is so fleeting that it can't even be captured as an image, but it so accurately conveys our exasperation with the character that I'm certain it's an in-joke. It's partly, "Can't you see I'm busy? I have zero patience for this!", partly, "Oh, for God's sake, SHUT UP!", and partly, "Oh, no, NOT AGAIN -- this one's for you, dear viewers."
And *BAM!*
Maya gets a bullet in the chest and collapses to the ground. It's intense, it's tragic, it's so sudden and shocking that we don't know how to react.
BUT WE APPLAUD. WAY TO GO, SYLAR! IT DOESN'T MATTER HOW USELESS YOUR STORYLINE WAS THROUGHOUT THIS VOLUME -- YOU CAME THROUGH FOR US WHEN WE NEEDED YOU!
Primatech Fun Factory. Peter's really having fun giving himself a nosebleed while he TK's The Imposing Vault from its hinges. This is so much easier than phasing through it. It does look like an extremely formidable effort, though.
Hiro teleports in front of Adam before he has a chance to enter the vault. He's unarmed. As near as I can tell, Hiro's plan is pretty much to leave time unfrozen and run towards Adam and blunt the blade of Adam's sword with his head. I don't know. Peter TK's Hiro against a wall and it's intended to underline Peter's Emerging Evil, but it probably just saved Hiro from decapitation.
Peter starts choking the life out of Hiro, and it's the same look of perverse enjoyment he had when he was choking Ricky's lackey. Except he had amnesia back then and had no idea who he was and why he shouldn't be enjoying it; at this stage, when he's supposed to be saving mankind, you'd expect him to curb his dark side and exert a little more self-control.
Matt shows up and tries to Parkman-whammy Peter into releasing Hiro and stopping Adam, but Peter's apparently immune to the Parkman-whammy, having absorbed the Basic Telepathy package last season. There's something so cool about the way they're communicating in one another's heads. I get why the show doesn't want to do a scene like this every week and become a superpower extravaganza, but this was awesome.
Depending on your perspective, it now gets even more awesome. Peter TK's Matt back down the tunnel, and he's probably about to choke the life out of Matt, when ...
"You have much to learn, little brother. Like, for instance, if you just unbuttoned your shirt a little, you could wield the kind of influence that I do."
"Bite me, big brother! I ran around a harbor shirtless! You're telling me the upturned collar and intense stare aren't working for me? Also, do you think Adam might not be such a terrific guy? It's occurred to me, but perhaps I haven't given it as much thought as I should."
"He's using you, little brother. He's playing on your fears and insecurities and your willingness to do whatever anyone wants."
"You'd know what that feels like, wouldn't you?"
"That was different. I was going to be president. And it was our mother. Oh, by the way, she says to put a bullet in your head if we can't stop you."
"That's mom..."
"Yeah ... So how about stopping the crazy guy who's about to unleash a virus that wipes out most of the population?"
"Am I really so craaayyyzeeeee?"
David Anders must be enjoying this episode so much. Even more than Zach Quinto. It's like he gets to be as over-the-top as he wants to as Adam. I hope he gets to play with the role more in the following volume.
Masi Oka's performance is much more subtle. It's like Anders sucked all of the exuberance out of him, because Hiro's more or less counteracting Adam's craziness with subdued sadness and regret. When he tells Adam he should have killed him, he's practically whispering. Which makes for an interesting acting choice, because I think Masi could equally have played this scene as resolved or vengeful and only showed Hiro's loss of spirit after he'd buried Adam. But already at this point, he's playing the character as defeated. I'm not sure how it fits in with the Epic Marathon across the warehouse and greeting the "FRYING MAN!", but Masi takes the material and delivers a surprising performance with it.
Hiro teleports Adam out of the vault, causing the vial of the Shanti Virus to fall to the ground. So, if Peter hadn't gotten there in time to TK the vial before it smashed, Hiro would have indirectly created the lunatic who planned to release the virus AND indirectly caused the virus to be released.
Anyone want to place bets on Hiro taking center stage as the villain next volume?
Peter nuking the virus was a neat touch, as was the S-helix beneath the powder of dust which the vial leaves behind in his hand. I would have figured he'd never dare to use Ted's ability knowing the disaster it could cause, but given the alternative, it makes sense that the most effective way to dispose of the virus would be to incinerate it.
Former Apartment of Clairvoyance. Maya gets a shot of Claire's blood and instaheals. The collective groan of 11 million viewers can be heard across the nation.
Maya: "I thought I was dead!"
SO DID WE! We were shamelessly misled! Why, Heroes, WHY? Why couldn't you let her stay dead? We would have liked her so much more if we knew she wasn't coming back.
Here's the bizarre part, though: I'm reassured that the show's keeping her around. If they'd killed her off, it'd be like admitting they'd failed catastrophically with the character. Keeping her alive is at least a sign that there's some kind of a plan for the character beyond the Crying & Dying Routine and screaming
"ALEJAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADROOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
and
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Dare we hope? The next volume might explain the show's purpose for introducing the character.
Sylar makes a rapid exit with the Mohindaire Cocktail. Elle arrives in time to bellow his name.
PING!
Don't advertise the fact that you're about to attack them, Elle -- just shoot.
Elle fires off an Ellectrobolt which barely slows Sylar down. I'm beginning to think Sylar is the human cockroach. If he can fall five stories and take a sword to the gut and wander through forests and deserts for days and still not die, he's clearly as invincible as Adam, and can apparently look forward to surviving the show's entire run.
Unlike certain individuals.
Oh, crap. We're here, aren't we? The part of the episode which I'm quite happy to pretend didn't happen. Fine. Let's get on with it.
Duzac's Diner. Anonymous Gangster discovers Monica's cellphone and sets fire to the building using Micah's 9th Wonders comic.
Anyone remember what happened last week? Anonymous Gangster and his (suddenly-conspicuous-by-their-absence) crew stole the comic from Damon because it was so valuable. And now Anonymous Gangster ... sets fire to it?
Micah and Niki find Anonymous Gangster leaving the scene in his van. Niki plays chicken with him and wins because -- duh! -- he's not driving a [PRODUCT PLACEMENT] Nissan. By the looks of it, though, neither is Niki. Probably why Micah couldn't "tell" the car to go crashing into the diner to rescue her.
Niki kicks him in the groin and thwacks him across the head with his own gun. This is a moment of vindication for the character and for the actress, because not only is she Jessica-less and powerless, she's also whiny-less. And apparently still capable of kicking anyone's ass. Which, yay, even though with retrospect you realize it was only inserted into the story for the sake of giving the character one final kickass moment to remember her by.
Does it make up for a season-and-a-half of minimal screen time and a meandering dual personality story arc which was never fully explained? You decide. My feeling is Niki drew the short straw for ending up with an aimless story, and that Ali Larter drew the short straw for having virtually nothing to work with and STILL managing to shine.
Niki dives into the diner and rescues Monica. Then a flaming beam falls in their way. And I'm sorry if this is unfair to the production crew who built the set and choreographed the scene, but COME ON:
There's an escape route AROUND the beam so blatantly obvious that you'd have to be blindfold not to see it.
I appreciate that the show might have produced this scene on a budget, but at least bring the cameras in closer so that we can't SEE the escape route so clearly. Because this makes Niki's death even more tragic.
The fire spreads. Monica exits the building. Niki's trapped inside. We're thinking maybe she'll find another way out. Or a corner to shelter in.
Any chance someone could survive that?
You're really trying to stifle our hope, aren't you, show?
All right, enough with the pyrotechnics! It's just gratuitous now! We get it -- she's dead.
Hiro returns to Yamagato Empire and goes back to his old life.
Again, kudos to Masi, because the guy nails the character's reaction to condemning his father's killer to an eternity without food or light or oxygen or movement. It goes beyond forsaking adventure and heroism and returning to his cubicle to wear a shirt and tie. It turns Hiro into the kind of avenger who's forced to mete out punishment for a villain who can't be killed. Which is probably a large part of what turns him from "Yatta!"-Hiro to Future-Hiro: the fact that he's forced to inflict torture and suffering on a former friend; the fact that Hiro might secretly feel his father's killer deserves that kind of suffering; the fact that the memory of his childhood hero will haunt him when he thinks of his icon buried underground, alive and screaming.
Odessa Police Station. The show does its best to make this scene even more traumatic by giving us an extended session of Petrelli Brotherly Bonding:
"You know I'll always be with you, little brother."
"But what is one Petrelli brother without the other? Who'll explain to me that serial killers are bad?"
"You'll find your way, little brother. Try not to explode, and try not to be so gullible. You'll be fine."
"You give me such great advice, big brother. I don't know what I'll do without you."
"Oh, little brother ... You don't need my advice. And even if I'm dead, they can always bring me back. If there's enough of an outcry from the fans, the show won't be able to leave me dead."
"Leave you dead?! Over my dead body! I'll hunt Kring down and force his hand to the pen and paper if that's what it takes for the words NATHAN COMES BACK TO LIFE to end up in the script."
Nathan uses Matt to Parkman-whammy the press into listening to a speech about "special people," which is basically an excuse for an extended trailer to Volume Two. If you take out the montage, the speech is pretty deranged. I mean, Nathan's talking about ordinary people doing extraordinary things and organizations not wanting other people to know about those things and something incredible happening to Nathan and him being afraid but then not being afraid anymore. And on paper, that's all a little vague and uninspiring. But then it's put alongside the montage and it makes a little more sense.
We see drunken Pasbeard Nathan. And Molly leaping into Mohinder's arms. And D.L. rescuing a little girl from a fire. And Matt taking his detective's exam. And Hiro stealing swords from the Twelve Stupid Samurai Who Were Afraid To Lose Their Clothes. And Claire jumping from the Hollywood sign. And Maya crossing from Guatemala into Mexico. And Monica 619'ing the robber. And Peter and Caitlin teleporting into the future. And Elle Ellectrifying West and Claire out of the sky. And the Haitian wiping Peter's memory and locking him in a cargo container bound for Ireland. And Nathan flying away from Noah and the Haitian. And Peter catching Nathan in the sky after he was burned to a crisp.
And, looking at that, you could be forgiven for thinking this had been an amazing volume which brought the characters an enormous distance and told an incredible story. Problem is, it really is just one giant trailer. It really is just a smattering of remarkable moments thrown inbetween a lot of insubstantial material which dragged on much longer than it should have, which took the characters and the story nowhere, and which failed to cohere into a consistently entertaining, well-structured, well-told story. That's the sad reality of this volume; that no matter how outstanding a trailer you place at the close of the 11th episode, it doesn't undo or roll back what we felt while we sat through the other 10 episodes. Less than half of them were outstanding. Most of them were mediocre. Some of them bordered on unwatchable.
But, look, none of that matters now. Nathan's here to tell all of you Parkman-whammied lemmings he can f-
Oh, no.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
Oh, no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no.
Come on, Peter, time for a miracle transfusion. If your blood doesn't work, teleport to Costa Verde and grab Claire's. If that doesn't work, go find Adam in his coffin and use his. And don't worry about the whole cheap-plot-device garbage I rambled on about two episodes ago. Seriously, dude, @#*% that. I didn't know what I was talking about. I didn't know they were going to kill NATHAN. Do whatever you have to -- cheap plot devices be damned.
BRING HIM BACK.
And this would be ... Noah? West? Future-Peter? Adam? Sylar? Papa Petrelli? Claude? Zach? Lyle? Mr. Muggles? Let me know when I'm getting warmer, show.
AND ANGELA WAS IN ON A PLOT TO KILL HER SON?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!
That's it. No more praise for character complexity. She's just plain evil. No redeeming qualities. Period.
Wait, that's it? You're going to leave us with Nathan and Niki dead and Angela evil and Hiro in a cubicle and Adam in a coffin and Cyborg Noah walking out on his family and MAYA ALIVE?!
AND SYLAR JUST GOT HIS ABILITIES BACK?
SOMEONE SORT THIS WRITERS' STRIKE OUT RIGHT NOW!
NBC? GET THIS SHOW BACK ON THE AIR!
KRING? FIX CLAIRE AND GET RID OF MAYA AND DON'T EVER PUT YOUR CHARACTERS IN IRELAND WITH AMNESIA AND DON'T EVER SEND THEM ON ROAD TRIPS ACROSS CENTRAL AMERICA WITH A CHARACTER WHO CRIES BLACK GOO AND DON'T EVER PUT THEM IN FEUDAL JAPAN 336 YEARS IN THE PAST WITH A LOVE INTEREST WHO PAINTS PURPLE FLAGS. THAT WAY, I WILL NEVER AGAIN BE FORCED TO WRITE AN ENTIRE PARAGRAPH IN CAPITAL LETTERS. THANKS -- OTTO.
Was this a good finale?
Yes.
Was this a good volume?
Only in places. It had some great moments, particularly towards the end, but overall, it struggled to be anything above average.
And therein lies the merit of this episode, because, against all odds, it managed to make the most of the storylines which had been set up over the past 10 episodes and change the direction the show was headed in.
Paradoxically, that direction's pretty much the way it came -- back towards Volume One. Several of the characters are now essentially where they were back then. Nathan once again may or may not be dead. Angela's once again the evil mastermind. Noah's once again the Company Man. Mohinder's once again the high-minded scientist. And Sylar's once again the superpowered villain. All of which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it doesn't say much for the distance this volume covered. For a volume which was titled "Generations," a volume which seemed like it was going to explore the story behind the previous generation, the past 11 episodes haven't been especially enlightening. We learned that Kensei became Adam, but most of the rationale behind that transformation was recounted through dialogue instead of being shown. Bob, Maury, and Victoria were introduced, but most of the questions surrounding how the ElderSupers came together are still unanswered. The Company's plan to use Shanti's illness as a bio-weapon was revealed, and it made for a compelling backstory, but again, it was mostly hinted at instead of being explored. We don't know how Shanti's virus developed in the first place, and we don't know how the ElderSupers found out about it in the first place.
Irrelevant details? A dead-end storyline for peripheral characters? Maybe. But those were the details and storylines and characters which I'd been looking forward to since the title of the volume was first unveiled.
Now, with all that said, the surprising thing about this volume is that it covered a considerable amount of ground with other characters, particularly the ones whose story arcs last season didn't get anywhere near the attention they deserved. Matt and Mohinder both got more prominent roles, even though they were competing for screen time with an influx of new characters.
Elle? Caitlin? Bob? Adam? Monica? Maury? Even West? Most of those turned out all right, both in terms of servicing the plot and presenting themselves as compelling, consistent, sympathetic characters. If nothing else, this volume threw a dozen characters into the mix, and most of them deserve to stick around.
But then, it's not as if Niki, D.L., and Nathan didn't deserve to stick around. The way they were killed off and written out felt like either an admission that their story arcs failed or an attempt to garner viewers with the prospect of a sensational death. That's great for boosting viewers in the short term, but when characters we love and identify with are killed off because they're competing for even a minute of screen time alongside a dozen new characters, the show loses ones of its inherent strengths during the first season. When characters we'd become attached to are unable to take part in any meaningful story because they're constantly being shunted into the background by newer and infinitely less compelling additions to the cast, it becomes a frustrating viewing experience. And it's the kind of frustration that a lot of viewers experienced throughout this volume.
This episode demonstrated that the show isn't unsalvageable, that it hasn't completely lost its way, and that there is a plan, even for the story arcs which, for most of the volume, didn't seem to make sense.
Which, in a roundabout way, brings me back to the original point: as a conclusion to a less-than-stellar volume, this really wasn't a bad finale. As finales go, it was pretty good.
4 out of 5
And that, dear readers, is the end of HeroSite's reviews for Heroes: Volume Two. As always, I'd like to thank everyone for reading. I'd like to thank Craig for continuing to let me review the show, Brenda for designing and maintaining an amazing blog, and everyone else who knows they deserve enormous thanks but whose names would probably result in a list longer than this review. You guys know who you are, and these reviews would never have been written without you.
I wish everyone a happy holiday and new year, and rest assured, we'll be back to cover the show as soon as it returns to production.]]>
Love how that was done; the buildings even tilt with the soft focus.
This whole sequence is hilarious for the way it drives home how, despite the havoc the Shanti Virus will wreak, Peter's response throughout is pretty much,
"CAITLIN! (...and the rest of the population.)"
"CAITLIN! (...and billions of other people.)"
"CAITLIN! (...and, you know, mankind.)"
The fact that Peter (and the show) haven't forgotten about the character is reassuring, but the way Peter puts Caitlin ahead of everyone else? I don't know if it's meant to be romantic, but it seems like Peter's not too concerned about the rest of the population as long as he saves his girlfriend. It's difficult to sympathize with a character whose perspective is that narrow.
Peter finds himself back in the Montreal Junk Room and tells Adam about the Shanti Virus. Ominous music plays. Adam gets The Expression of Villainous Scheming.
Is Adam lying about The Company developing the virus from Shanti's illness instead of creating it? He's got no reason to lie about that, so we can assume the virus really did start out as an unintentional sickness rather than an artificially-developed bio-weapon. It's not essential to the plot, but it's good that the detail was thrown in.
What does start to hurt the plot, already now, is the way Peter never stops to ask how Adam knows so much about The Company and its history. I mean, from Peter's perspective, Adam's some random schmuck who was bagged and tagged and locked away by The Company because he wanted to go public with his ability. The fact that Peter just accepts Adam's knowledge about who engineered Shanti's sickness as a weapon and exactly how and when that happened seems a little ... dumb. But, like a lot of things this week, it's just one of those things we're supposed to buy into.
The important thing is that Peter realizes what needs to be done:
"We need to stop the virus -- AND SAVE CAITLIN!"
"(...and, you know, other people too.)"
Canine Central.
That's an intense way to start a scene no matter who's pointing the gun, but when the focus shifts and you realize that it's ...
Mama Bennet? ...
... it becomes even more intense. And I'm surprised some jittery network exec didn't freak out and censor the shot, because having a character who started out as a clueless dog-loving ditz get to the point where she's aiming a gun at a man in front of her son and daughter is genuinely disturbing.
Ashley Crow plays crazed remarkably well. The one thing I kept thinking throughout this scene was that it's about time the actress had a chance to work with the kind of material she only ever really got to work with once on this show, when Claire was shot in front of her.
Lyle? He sort of ... stands there with his arms folded ... and tries to look menacing with his arms folded ... without dialogue.
NBC, have you ever considered using this in place of the actors on your shows? Because if you're so uptight about paying the wages which your writers deserve, I don't see why you couldn't make a saving on recurring actors who are limited to glorified extras.
And Heroes? Please give Randall Bentley more to do.
Does Bob know Mohinder used Claire's blood to revive Noah? Stephen Tobolowsky brings the "pretend" sincerity he's so good at, but I couldn't figure out whether Bob honestly meant what he said about Noah being "a true friend," or whether Bob even knew he was offering his condolences for the death of an employee who was at that moment being transfused in a Company lab. It's not like the plan wasn't to "take out" Noah all along, but something about Bob's morose eyes seemed earnest enough here.
Bob gets into his car looking visibly rattled, so I'm tempted to think his reaction in the house wasn't entirely false. The whole Elle-in-a-sling-is-assigned-to-spy-on-Claire story is amusing, but it's also a little disappointing to see how small and ineffectual The Company has become. Most of the first season, The Company was embodied by Bennet, the Haitian, and Eden, but you got the impression they were an extension of a much larger and more influential organization.
This week, you get the sense that The Company doesn't extend that far. You'd think they'd have benched an employee who screwed up her assignment as completely as Elle did. You'd think they'd have assigned a dozen field agents to watch a super as valuable as Claire. Hell, you'd think they'd have strapped Claire down and started filling test tubes with her blood right in front of Sandra if it met their objectives.
You would NOT think The Company would be limited to a father, his incapacitated daughter, and a recently-recruited and deeply-misguided scientist.
But then, I'm not sure whether the dingy cell where Mohinder revives Noah is unfortunately cheap or intentionally sparse. It might be to convey the sense that Mohinder saved Noah without The Company's knowledge in a facility which wasn't being maintained. My guess is it's sadly a limited budget preventing the show from reviving Noah in the kind of high-tech lab which Matt woke up in.
I also spent most of this scene trying to figure out where Mohinder took Noah. Is this still Costa Verde? Is it the Hartsdale lab? At least with Matt's lab, the show intentionally maintained the mystery with a caption that told us the location was "unknown." It seems like the show doesn't even care about details like that anymore.
What's great about this scene, though, is Mohinder's conviction about The Company's capacity for good.
"I was once Dumb As Mohinder, but now I am D-E-F-I-A-N-T!"
Is Mohinder a fool to think he knows better than Noah? Of course. But it's satisfying to see Mohinder flip the bird at his former partner and defend his decisions so passionately. The fact that Mohinder believes he's the doing the right thing -- and that he's willing to challenge Noah's experience with The Company so brazenly -- shows how far he's come since the idiot who, not three episodes ago, had no idea what to think or who to trust. He's still an idiot, but he's a delightfully decisive one.
Mohinder: "Your recovery has proven this blood has tremendous regenerative properties."
Wait, so this was just a test to see if Claire's blood would work on the virus? So Mohinder wasn't even all that bothered whether Noah survived a bullet to the eye? I never thought I'd say this, but Mohinder has become one ruthless, cold-hearted badass.
Dawson Superhome. Damon contemplates how much he could make out of selling Micah's 9th Wonders comics, and Monica figures out why Clark Kent wears glasses.
That pretty much sums up this story thread.
One glimmering virtue emerges:
I love how Ali Larter's performance knocks me out every week; how she'll always bring a tiny nuance to her role that brings her mediocre story to life; how she can give this nervous little smile that shows how afraid Niki is to tell her son she's dying, but that she's even more afraid she won't be able to fool him into thinking she'll pull through.
Tragically, in spite of Larter's performance, the scene goes down the drain.
Niki starts off on the "ohmygodImissedyoueverydayeveryminuteeverysecond" spiel, which isn't really a spiel, but the dialogue's so weak that it feels like a spiel.
Micah goes to get "something to make [Niki] stronger," and Niki tells him, "We cannot waste another nanosecond." Which is terrible dialogue, but it's made even worse by Niki delivering the line WITHOUT MOVING HER LIPS. Great editing, show. This actually threw me. I started wondering whether this was a dream sequence, or whether Jessica's voice was inside Micah's head when Niki wasn't talking, or whether it was a flashback with a Niki voice-over or something. It was so sloppy that it became misleading.
That's not the worst part, though. This subplot about the medal actually damages the intensity of the rest of the episode. The importance of the medal is a subtle tribute to D.L., I guess, and if the focus had been on Niki and Micah's grief over D.L.'s death it would at least have had some resonance with the loss Niki and Micah were feeling. But the amount of time a STOLEN BACKPACK gets in an episode intended to set up events for the finale and draw the story arcs to a close is shocking. A story about a medal, thoughtful though it is, doesn't gel with a story about a virus that wipes out mankind and a daughter's devastation after her father's been murdered. It slows those stories down. It's not season finale material, or even volume finale material. It's mid-season "Wouldn't-this-be-a-fun-subplot-adventure?" material.
You know what makes this storyline seem at least a little better?
This:
And if you thought Maya's scenes were torturous until now, brace yourself for scenes that will REDEFINE the word torturous.
CHEERS!
Maya: "I almost feel normal."
Sylar: "After you see Dr. Suresh, you will be."
Maya: "... And then Alejandro and I can go back home."
Isn't she wanted for murder? For resisting arrest? For assisting in the escape of a convict who later turned up dead while his Nissan Rogue went back and forth across the U.S. border?
Yeah, they can go home. Along with a
PING!
Dumb As Parkman Award for ignoring the homicide warrant.
Sylar: "What if Alejandro could go home now?"
Maya: "I need my brother..."
YES!
Maya: "He's..."
...your brother!
...the one who loves you!
...the one who's always been there for you and taken care of you no matter what!
Maya: "...the only one who can stop me."
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!?
There's selfish and ungrateful and disloyal, and then there's just DUMB.
Sylar: "Do you love your brother enough to let him go?"
Maya [with a "How-can-you-ask-me-that?" laugh]: "Of course!"
No! No, Maya! You've grown up with your brother and know him and trust him and love him and went on an immeasurable journey with him, and now, when you're on the verge of answers you wanted, YOU'RE GOING TO SEND HIM HOME?
Maya's eyes blacken, Sylar collapses, and then ...
Maya [elated]: "You were right! I did it!"
That's great! Could you try it again a few times ON YOURSELF? You know, just to be sure?
Maya doesn't, but she's convinced she's now in complete control of her ability. Which (a) basically makes Alejandro pointless, (b) basically makes all of Maya's victims pointless, (c) basically makes Maya's trip to see Chandra in New York pointless, and (d) basically makes everything we've sat through for the past 10 episodes pointless.
But, hey, CHEERS!
At Yamagato Empire, Hiro realizes that healing from injuries = immortality.
?!?!?!?!?
Stupid us! How could we not have realized Claire will live forever! And that Peter will live forever! And that cellular regeneration leads to immortality! That's just so ... obvious.
NOT!
But Hiro makes this incredible deductive leap because the plot won't work if he doesn't, so shut up.
Searsmont, Maine.
Peter finds Joanna Cassidy, and she's all, "You lost?" And he's like, "I know you're Victoria Pratt, you worked for The Company, there's a virus that'll kill everyone in less than a year, it's about to be unleashed, please help me." And she's just, "WTF?!", because she clearly wasn't clued in to Linderman's crazy art collection. And Peter's all, "No paintings! I've seen it with my own eyes!" And then Victoria herds Peter inside the house with a shotgun, which is disturbing, but the fact that she's concerned about Peter's prediction is the first hint that Victoria might be one of the non-bats**t-crazy ElderSupers.
At Yamagato Empire, Ando's "like a hamster making a nest." Frankly, Ando as a hamster seems preferable to Hiro as a badger who says "Chuffa chuffa." But then, I thought Maya meeting goats was cute, so what do I know.
Papa Sulu 30 years ago! Well, sure, if Papa Sulu was a bodybuilder in his youth and underwent drastic surgical alteration before he settled down with Mama Sulu. I know I shouldn't complain because any ElderSuper flashback is better than no flashback at all. Just saying, Heroes casting department -- WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!
Hiro discovers that Kensei is Adam Monroe, and that Papa Sulu ordered Adam's incarceration 30 years earlier. He gets the date and address of Adam's incarceration and resolves to "do this." I'm not sure what "do this" means -- whether Hiro meant he needed to go back in time to find Adam, or whether he just needed to find out why Adam was locked up in the first place. But he teleports out of Yamagato Empire and leaves Ando lamenting that he's been ditched "again." Here comes another five episodes of contemplation, video games, and visits to the Kensei Fan Club.
A cardboard cutout for Ando, please!
Hiro visits Company Medical in 1977. This is so exciting, people! Just think, Hiro could ditch this Company conspiracy garbage and join millions of nerds rejoicing over the birth of a sci-fi phenomenon!
The actor playing Young Papa Sulu does his best to imitate his older self's cadence and intonation. It comes out less like George Takei and more like William Shatner. You know, with the random affected pauses for dramatic effect? "You betrayed ... everything ... we stand for ... by releasing a virus ... that could kill ... billions ... of innocent people."
Young(er) Adam speaks normally, explaining that man's "disregard" for the environment and propensity for war meant he needed to "make the hard choice for the greater good." Which sounds a lot like Linderman, but it's subtle enough that you can believe Kring & Co. slipped it in to make it sound like Adam was the one who talked that way and that it rubbed off onto Linderman. Good writing, and good continuity.
Hiro watches the confrontation, then scampers through the hall and eavesdrops on Young Papa Sulu's conversation with Young Victoria. I'd point out that Hiro's probably being caught on surveillance cameras, but it's not like The Company ever actually uses its cameras, or even switches them on.
Young Victoria worries over the devastation Strain 138 could bring and pulls out of the project. This raises all kinds of questions about the other 137 variations on the Shanti Virus, but also makes me wonder how Victoria and Angela could have remained on such good terms that it would take Matt's Parkman-whammy to force Victoria's location out of Angela.
Aaaaaand again, the most interesting questions come from the ElderSuper backstory.
In the present, Peter glimpses Victoria's newspaper clippings that chronicle Angela's confession to the murder of Papa Sulu. Peter's like, "Huh?" And Victoria's just, "You look like your mother," instead of, "What kind of son comes back from the dead and gets his memories back after four months and DOESN'T EVEN CALL HIS MOM TO LET HER KNOW HE'S OK?"
In light of the discovery that his mother's been jailed and an ElderSuper's responsible for the virus which kills most of the general population, Peter focuses on what really matters.
"There was a woman ... Caitlin ... If you just tell me where to find the virus, I know that I can save her."
"(...and, you know, everyone else.)"
Victoria's so bowled over by this story that she gives Peter a false location in New Mexico. Peter tells Adam the good news so they can rush off to destroy the virus, even though they have no clue how to safely dispose of the virus once they find it.
Victoria puts bullets in both of them. You wouldn't think a bullet to a villain's chest -- a villain who can instaheal -- could be so shocking. But it happens so suddenly that your immediate reaction -- before "Oh, he'll regenerate, it's cool" -- is "Oh %#*@!" And Peter, in a parallel to Mohinder's "I Love The Company" loyalty, blindly ignores Victoria's suspicion of Adam and pwns her to save his friend. Which, Aww, but also, Oh, Peter, REALLY.
Romantic Picnic Getaway. Alejandro goes online, visits the New York Chronicle, and learns that someone stumbled onto Mama Gray's corpse.
Maya bursts in and tells her brother about Sylar's success in helping her control her ability.
I'm not sure why every scene with these two lends itself so well to images, but you can't deny that these actors work hard to bring their scenes to life. It's kind of sad that they're trying so hard.
Maya holds a copy of the article with the headline "LOCAL MAN WANTED IN MOTHERS [SIC] MURDER."
Maya: "I don't believe it! It's not true!"
Sylar doesn't even try to deny it. And Maya's reaction is ...
Well, it is quite sad, so you can't begrudge Maya for crying over this. But Sylar?
^ ^ Moist eyes?
Real grief or pretense? He's twisting the truth and manipulating Maya's reaction, and he seemed indifferent to Mama Gray's death when he was painting the apocalypse in her blood. But there's a part of Zach Quinto's performance here that's really quite convincing -- so convincing that you wonder if you're supposed to buy into it.
"Fooled you!"
The hands on her shoulders! The eyes on the back of her scalp! The fallen angel turning a sister away from her brother! It's ... dumb. You feel bad for Peter for the way he's duped by Adam; you can kind of admire Mohinder's conviction while Bob's playing him; but Maya being manipulated into sending her brother away? Maybe it's just me, but I don't feel bad for her or sympathize with her -- I actually hope she suffers a slow and agonizing scalping once Sylar gets his powers back. And I feel sorry for Alejandro. Not because he's now facing the prospect of retreading hundreds of miles on his own with only a smattering of English and no money and no one he can trust, but because he has such a colossally impressionable sister who could be persuaded to abandon the brother she's grown up with for an infatuation with a stranger she met on a desert road.
In Maine, Adam ties up Victoria while Peter ignores her claims of Adam's duplicity. Again, I'm very tempted to give Peter a Dumb As Parkman Award, but you could argue that between four months in a cell next to the guy and the debt of gratitude he owes him for healing Nathan, Peter's loyalty to Adam is close to unshakable.
Then Peter does get a moment of uncertainty:
And HERE'S what earns Peter a
PING!
Dumb As Parkman Award, because if the guy was smart enough to mindread Victoria, you have to wonder why he never acts on his uncertainty by mindreading Adam. Chances are Adam's trained his mind to resist all mindreading, especially after recruiting Maury, but the fact that Peter never even tries to get a read on Adam is surprising; after this scene, we know there's a hint of uncertainty creeping into his mind.
Adam unties Victoria, counting on Victoria's attempt to shoot Peter as a justification to shoot her. Which is one hell of a risk to take because if Adam had paused for a moment longer and if Victoria had shot a moment sooner, Peter would be dead.
Instead, we say bye-bye to Joanna Cassidy as Victoria Pratt. That didn't last long. I'm a little disappointed that Peter didn't insist on giving Victoria a transfusion and healing the bullet wound, but the implication is that Peter doesn't have time for anything if it doesn't involve Caitlin. It's also rather saddening that he walks out of the house and leaves Adam to decide whether to cover the corpse or let it fester. It's as if Peter's becoming so accustomed to death that he isn't even fazed by it anymore.
Dawson Superhome. Damon returns home after letting Micah's backpack get stolen by a gang of kids. Micah starts beating the crap out of Damon until Niki and Uhura break them apart.
Micah: "We need to be heroes!"
As in, "We need to be Heroes"? I don't know if there's any meaning behind that pun, but the show does need to be Heroes. And soon.
Niki: "Being a hero is what got your father killed."
No, Niki forcing D.L. to come to her rescue after flushing her pills and running off to a coke dealer in L.A. while possessed by an alternate personality is what got him killed. What kind of spin has Niki put on D.L.'s death?
Alejandro visits Sylar at the Romantic Picnic Getaway.
Alejandro: "I'm taking my sister!"
^ ^ In English! Aww!
Sylar and Alejandro scuffle. Again. And then Sylar stabs Alejandro with a knife and Alejandro dies. And ... that's it.
Let's be thankful we didn't have a chance to get attached to the guy. If we had, the way this was handled would have been even more tragic.
Farewell, Alejandro! We felt like we knew you. You loved your sister. And had the ability to absorb the Tears of Death. And got married to your girlfriend after four months because it was romantically impulsive. And were computer literate. But not particularly good at stealing cars.
And ... that's pretty much everything we knew about you after 10 episodes.
You know the best way to distract us from a badly-written, badly-edited death?
Uh, yeah, that'll do it.
Plus points for continuity: he still has the stab wound in his chest. Minus points for the way Sylar apparently strips and showers within about 10 seconds.
Maya resolves to send her brother home in order to "protect" him. This, it seems, extends to not even saying goodbye to him. And, sure, Sylar probably told Maya her brother had already gone. But the fact that she actually fell for that idea? That she'd be cool with her brother leaving without saying goodbye and fending for himself as he headed back down to the U.S. border, across Mexico, through Honduras and back to the Dominican Republic where his friends and wife were dead and where his sister was wanted for murder? That's what Maya does to "protect" her brother?
There's a point where you have to ask whether someone who's being manipulated is mentally deficient. At this point, the plot stops functioning. It stops being a plot and devolves into farce.
Ten episodes in, having tried to give it the benefit of the doubt, having tried to reserve judgment, I have to ask: WHAT WAS THE POINT?
What has this storyline achieved? Has it raised any significant questions? Has it put forward any meaningful themes? Has any of it tied in with the larger story?
Those aren't rhetorical questions. As always, feel free to let me know what I've been missing. I don't think I've been unfairly harsh on this storyline in previous reviews, but I'm at a point where I can't see how it's going to connect to the show's central story arcs. There's nothing that could redeem this storyline and justify the attention it's gotten. It sapped screen time which could have gone on Matt's separation from Janice. Or Nathan's separation from Heidi. Or Niki's experiences after she checked into The Company. Or Noah's collusion with Mohinder. Or Matt and Mohinder adopting Molly. Or Sandra and Lyle asking Noah about his job at The Company. Or West's life at home and his relationship with his parents. Or Ando's effort to return to a normal life in Tokyo. Or Monica discovering her abilities. Or D.L. joining the fire department in Las Vegas before he died. Or anything -- in any shape or form -- relating to the ElderSupers.
Or even a day in the life of Mr. Muggles.
And, truthfully, it's painful to say that, because it goes without saying that a lot of people put a lot of effort into planning and realizing this story thread. The problem is the Maya/Alejandro story has been so far removed from the rest of the show and turned out to be so totally pointless that I'm not sure why it was here in the first place.
ANYWAY, we cut to Canine Central, where Claire's unpacking the wind chimes which send a signal to the Haitian. Which is another nod to continuity, but also makes you wonder what happened to the Haitian after he and Noah returned from Ukraine.
Claire's recollection of her various injuries was amazing. Great dialogue, and one of the few moments in this episode that stand out as memorable. Convincingly delivered by Hayden, and believable from a character whose physical invulnerability would make her complacent about healing from any kind of pain.
Claire asking the Haitian to wipe her memory of Noah is an intriguing "What If?" You have to wonder if it would last more than a few minutes after the way Peter recovered his memories; given that Noah's what matters most to her, and given that every part of her life leads back to him one way or another, it's not like anything -- short of sending Claire to Ireland -- would keep her memories from immediately restoring themselves. Still, the tragedy's in the idea that Claire would want to forget her attachment to her father.
At the Former Apartment of Clairvoyance, Mohinder concocts a cure for Niki. Bob continues to plug the advantages of "a safe way to remove the abilities of dangerous individuals," which suddenly makes me wonder whether Bob was the middle-man back in the 70s. I mean, if he wasn't on the Kaito/Victoria anti-virus team, and if he wasn't on the loony Go Adam! Linderman/Angela/Maury team, chances are Bob was the liberal who wanted to placate both sides and safely develop a way to restrain out-of-control supers.
But then, he's also the dad who pushed his daughter's ability until she snapped, so he could very well be closer to the Raving Loony Team than the Sane & Skeptical Team.
Bob asks Mohinder what he can do to regain his confidence, which is odd, because until now Bob pretty much issued orders and put up with Mohinder's complaints and protests because he knew Mohinder would end up doing what The Company wanted. This moment lends credibility to Mohinder's new-found conviction because it implies that Mohinder really does have an influence on Company directives.
Does Bob actually care what Mohinder wants? Probably not. But the fact that Bob's even trying to gauge Mohinder's state of mind and give the impression that he cares underlines how important Mohinder is to The Company. Which, if nothing else, gives Mohinder some leverage to bargain his way into effecting real change in the organization. It's disappointing to see a company that seemed so formidable at the start of the show be reduced to something so malleable, but it's great to see Mohinder gain some influence in The Company.
Dawson Superhome. Monica dresses up as St. Joan and lets Micah tag along to retrieve D.L.'s medal.
The iPod which Bob gave Monica contains footage to enable effective B&E skills. Hilariously, it doesn't provide an effective exit. Or it does, but Monica doesn't bother to study and imitate that.
The break-in sequence was nicely done; good stuntwork, good music, and it brought a sense of urgency and drama to a thread which felt pretty slow this week.
Then ... Dilemma!
Monica retrieves the medal, the comic, AND the backpack. The gang pulls up outside the house with their van and SUV. This is so straightforward that it warrants a multiple choice. Does Monica:
(a) put the medal and comic into the backpack, put the backpack around her shoulders, surprise the gang with a 619 and then run for her life,
(b) introduce herself to the gang, explain that the medal is a memento of a kid's dead father, and that it'd be the cool thing to let her leave with it,
(c) take the medal, leave the cumbersome backpack, wait until the gang's inside the house, then exit by the roof, the way she came, or
(d) hide on the ceiling with comic AND backpack AND medal, and ... wait until it's convenient to climb down.
The fact that Monica froze with terror when the kids found her on the ceiling isn't hard to buy into; she's got several guns pointed at her and she's terrified. But the fact that she gathered everything in her arms and opted for the ceiling plan at all when there was a clear escape route out of the house the way she'd gotten in? That's just ...
PING!
Dumb As Parkman.
Costa Verde Beachfront.
Beautifully shot. It's difficult to connect with the emotion in the scene because we know the family's grieving over the death of a man who's alive, but it is well shot.
The problem here is that, beyond the visual element of the scene and the quality of the performances (and, truthfully, Hayden's performance here bordered on wooden), this scene lacked the impact it should have had. It's going to lose all resonance when Noah shows up alive, so you're essentially left waiting for Noah to break out of the Company cell and return to his family. In the meantime, you're not sure why you should share any grief or regret with the characters.
Elle sits in her car slurping a Slusho until Claire sees her, then fumbles for the car keys and spills the Slusho. Which is idiotic and extraneous and contributes nothing to the plot, but it makes Elle look so adorably hapless and unfortunate that you feel sorry for her when Claire slams her against the car and smashes the window.
Scary role reversal; you wouldn't think there'd be a moment when Elle became the helpless and powerless one and Claire became the violent and threatening one.
Too cool. Gross, but too cool. I love how the flesh in her hand pushes out the glass the way Peter's chest spat out a bullet. It shows consistency in the ability.
Another cool detail in this scene was Elle's lightning bolt necklace. Not important to the story, but a nice detail for the character.
Claire decides she's going to avenge her father and bring down The Company by revealing her ability to the world.
Oh, Claire.
First, it's a plan Simone came up with. And all Simone plans are bad.
Second, it's not like no one's ever tried the same thing and been branded a nutjob for it.
Third, as you've pointed out, you'd be a guinea pig for the rest of your life.
Fourth, and mostly because Claire couldn't possibly know about two of the previous points, it's insaaaaaaaaaaaaaaane.
Sylar calls Mohinder on his cell phone. Subtle nod to continuity with the Zane Taylor charade, as well as providing a truly scary moment for the former villain: threatening Molly to Mohinder over the phone while making it seem harmless to Maya who's standing next to him. Tense, unsettling, and well thought out. It's the first scene with Sylar all season that I'd describe as genuinely worthy of Zach Quinto's talent.
Matt left Molly with a babysitter while he went to find Victoria? As in, a non-superpowered, un-clued-in, run-of-the-mill babysitter? He left Molly with a babysitter when he knows The Company wants to exploit her ability and that she was only just beginning to recover from a nightmare-induced coma inflicted by Matt's father?
PING!
Dumb As Parkman. And Matt earned it without even appearing in the episode.
Do NOT leave your superpowered foster-daughter with a babysitter while you go on a wild goose chase looking for an ElderSuper!
Yamagato Empire. Hiro returns and wakes Ando from his nap. He knows that Adam wants the virus at the Primatech Fun Factory.
Did I miss something? Hiro discovered that Adam tried to release the virus in 1977, that he was locked up for it, that the virus was stored in Odessa, that Adam's now free, and that he killed Papa Sulu.
And therefore Adam's again planning to release the virus?
Seriously, I need someone to spell this out for me because I'm sure I missed something. I'm not saying every trivial detail had to be explained, but this isn't the same as "regeneration = immortality." This is a key development in the plot which relies on solid deductive reasoning from A to B to C, and Hiro just made a jump from A to C that would be IMPOSSIBLE with the scant information he has. Hiro has no way of knowing that Adam's still trying to release the virus, or that Adam only just broke out of The Company, or that Strain 138 is even still stored at the Odessa Primatech facility. All he knows is there was a strain of the virus stored there, that Adam once tried to release that strain, and that he just killed Hiro's dad. That IN NO WAY adds up to Adam suddenly returning to a plan he attempted 30 years ago.
Primatech Fun Factory. Adam and Peter walk in, time freezes, and Peter finds Hiro standing behind him just like he did when they met on the subway.
This was the one moment in the episode when I sat up and said wow. The way the camera circles Peter the exact same way it did when Peter met Future Hiro, and the way it's staged so that they're standing at the exact same angles they were when they met on the subway -- that's so vividly reminiscent of "Collision" that I had to say wow.
Hiro and Peter are reunited. Peter wants to know why Hiro teleported away and never came back when they were facing off with Sylar at Superhero Square. Hiro wants to know what happened to Peter after he was about to explode. And what happened to his hair. Peter wants to offer his condolences for the death of Papa Sulu, and, based on the clippings he saw at Victoria's house, whether his mom might have had something to do with it. Hiro wants to know whether Peter's really in league with a murderer, or whether he's perhaps playing the murderer in a devious scheme that'll eventually lead to his downfall. Peter wa-
Nah, screw that. Let's not bother having anyone communicate. Let's just have Hiro tell Peter that Adam killed his father, then have Peter refuse to let Hiro kill Adam, then ...
Dun-dun-DUN!
This is going to be intense!
He's ready to kill Peter!
He's starting to run!
He's running!
He's still running!
Uh, still running!
You maybe wanna grab a drink or something? Plenty of time.
He's still running, trust me.
What can I say about this one, folks? If you enjoyed it, great. I tried to, but as the penultimate episode of the volume -- and possibly the season -- this was a disappointment. Maybe we weren't supposed to compare it with "Landslide"; between the smaller volume and the writers' strike, maybe this can't be compared with the show's format last season, and maybe we can't expect a tight script and a fast pace and a sensible focus on the central story arcs.
But then, most of that's stuff I'd expect in every episode, not just the episode leading into a finale.
I'm docking points for the leaps in logic which Hiro's storyline demanded just for it to work; for the lack of communication between Peter and Hiro when they met; for the emptiness of the Claire storyline that involves grieving over the death of a character we know is alive; for the attention given to the Micah storyline involving a reminder of a character which the show spent most of the season ignoring; for the way Alejandro was killed off and written out; and for the sheer, unimaginable stupidity which Maya demonstrated this week.
That's pretty much enough to drag this episode down to a 1 out of 5. What saves it is a decent opening sequence, a couple of neat details and nods to continuity, some good acting from the cast, the ElderSuper flashback, Mohinder becoming more assertive, and the potential of Peter and Hiro facing off before they figure the situation out together.
All in all, that raises the quality just above "Kindred," although not by much.
I wish I could have been more positive as the volume draws to a close, but however you look at it, this doesn't inspire confidence for next week's episode.
2.5 out of 5]]>