End Of Season Review: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles

The first season of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles was reduced to a measly nine episodes by the 2008 writers’ strike, but it was none the worse for it. Those nine episodes crammed in almost a full season’s worth of time-travelly, robot-fighty thrills, not to mention a murderous, shocking climax that heightened expectation for the second season. Unfortunately, the 22-part season two delivered, oh, about nine episodes’ worth of similar excitement.



T:TSCC’s second run can be divided into three parts: the slow burn of the first third, up till the Connors dealt with the evil T-888 Cromartie (Garret Dillahunt) in episode 8; the headlong rush of the final half-dozen episodes, which hurled story and backstory at the audience at a dizzying rate; and the plodding middle section in which Nothing At All Happened.

Season two picked up where season one left off, reasonably enough, with John (Thomas Dekker) and Sarah Connor (Lena Headey), Derek Reese (Brian Austin Green) and their Terminator guardian Cameron (Summer Glau) pursued by Cromartie. This mini-arc concluded satisfyingly with a nicely-shot takedown set in Mexico and had a couple of meaty self-contained episodes – such as “Allison From Palmdale”, which provided some welcome information about Cameron’s future-past – but it had one large and irritating failing. Being the prey of a relentless, almost indestructible killing machine was deemed not enough to drive the plot, and instead the show relied for storylines on an unnamed resistance soldier travelling from the future to somehow find the Connors’ house and scrawling a few cryptic messages on their wall (in his own blood, natch) before inconveniently expiring.

Who was he? Why did he come back? How did he find the house? Why did he not make his bloody points more clearly? This event is an extraordinarily tenuous premise on which to base a TV drama, and yet T:TSCC did so brazenly. Need a way to set an episode in a nuclear power station? Put it on the Wall O’ Clues! Need to get Sarah fixated on an idea that will eventually lead her to a key Skynet facility? I think there might be a mysterious reference to it on the Wall O’ Clues! Need to introduce a psychologist to the show for a bit of scientific gravitas? I don’t suppose the Wall O’ Clues has the name of a good one, does it?



After the Cromartie situation was apparently resolved the show drifted, focusing mainly on John’s tentative romance with Riley (Leven Rambin) and Derek’s liaison with another future resistance fighter, Jesse (Stephanie Jacobsen), and the tension these relationships created. Which was, er, not very much tension. The better episodes in this period, such as “Self Made Man”, in which Cameron’s nocturnal library visits uncovered some early 20th-century cyborg activity and foiled a planned assassination (with an agreeably brutal Terminator punch-up), felt as if they’d parachuted in from a different show.

It was obvious at this point that the producers were severely restricted by budgetary constraints. Showrunner Josh Friedman may have claimed that he is just as interested in exploring Sarah Connor’s psyche as in watching killer robots having a scrap, but it is surely more than a happy accident that the likes of “Some Must Watch While Some Must Sleep” – set in a sleep clinic where Sarah tries to overcome her insomnia, and just as interesting as it sounds for a good two-thirds of the running time – are much cheaper than explosive, stunt-heavy showdowns. Given the lack of funds it’s forgivable, but it still doesn’t make for great entertainment.



Frustratingly, most episodes touched only briefly on one of the most intriguing aspects of the season: the supposed Catherine Weaver (Shirley Manson), another Terminator posing as the head of technology company ZeiraCorp, who had rescued Cromartie’s body with the help of former FBI agent James Ellison (Richard T Jones) and implanted it with a brand new AI, renaming it John Henry and instructing Ellison to rebuild its mind from the ground up. Ellison’s struggles to educate John Henry in the basics of ethics, forcing him to confront his own flaws, were compelling – as were Weaver’s attempts to appear human, not to mention the mystery of her motives.

The pay-off of the Riley storyline set in motion the events that brought the Connor and ZeiraCorp families together, and few could deny that the final six episodes of the season – which saw the deaths of three of the good guys, neatly explained Jesse’s mission and betrayal with a tense two-part flashback/forward, and, in the finale, turned the show on its head by separating Sarah and John in time – marked a new high for the show. Whether they made up for the preceding tedium is another matter.

One problem T:TSCC has is that almost every character’s emotional level is set to either “stoical” or “enigmatic”. Sarah, Derek and Jesse are forced to overcome hardship and swallow their feelings daily with the greater good – saving humanity – in mind; and John, increasingly, is of the same mindset. He seems prepared to jeopardise the Connors’ mission for the sake of Riley but when he loses her, he falls back in step with barely a murmur. It’s inevitably difficult to know what Cameron and Catherine are thinking, because they don’t actually think as such. The Terminatrices’ inscrutability is well played by both Glau and Manson, but they naturally struggle to make the characters truly compelling – and are given little to work with by the writers. Glau in particular was criminally sidelined for much of the season, her potent physicality and deft comic touch surfacing only sporadically.



Riley divided fan opinion but at least she displayed recognisable emotions and, in the crunch, she acted decisively and admirably. Rambin’s performance was sympathetic and, at times, verging on adorable – as was Jones’s as the conflicted Ellison, both actors lending a human face to a dramatis personae consisting of actual robots and people acting robotically. Curiously, though, it was the childlike John Henry who proved the most affecting character, with his wide-eyed efforts to understand the world and desire to protect Weaver’s daughter Savannah (Mackenzie Smith). This was by far the sweetest relationship on the show, sensitively written and skilfully handled by Dillahunt.


When I started writing this blogpost the future of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles was in the balance, but Fox has just announced that the show will not be renewed. The middling-at-best ratings of its second season made it unlikely that there would be a third – and yet there was enough quality in the season, and in Friedman’s attempted gamechanging in the finale, to suggest it was merited. But surely the only way a third season could bring in new fans – and please the existing ones, many of whom grumbled online about its lack of action – would be to up the budget to allow, at the very least, a few more balls-to-the-wall fight scenes. Hands up who ever thought Fox might start throwing money at an underperforming sci-fi show?

Well, stranger things have happened.

The Annual Culling Of The Shows

When I say culling, I'm not referring to us cutting back on shows. Don't be ridiculous. We're so far behind on most shows that we're following that it is tempting, but it's not going to happen any time soon, because I hate to give up on anything. Of course, I'm actually referring to that awful time of year when the networks pass judgement on the underperforming programmes on their rosters, slicing out much-loved cult faves and giving the kiss-of-life to some real oddities that no one is really passionate about. Hollywood Reporter has a report on the status of many shows here (this information is arranged in a more pleasing list format by Herc in this AICN Coaxial post), and it contains good and bad news, as ever.


Most upsetting is the unequivocal cancellation of Reaper, which has improved by leaps and bounds this year. Having shaken off first season nerves, the showrunners and performers have allowed more oddness and format-shaking looseness in, with some episodes doing away with the ponderous soul-hunting stuff in the cold open in order to follow the protagonists as they bumble along in their super-amiable way, and others just running with gags that would never have occurred last year. In a recent, very entertaining episode, more time was expended upon Sock (seeking chemical castration to prevent his lust for his step-sister) and Sam (dealing with his zombie dad's attempts to bond with him) than was spent on what would once have been considered the A plot, which was just fine by us. Nevertheless, that burst of energy came too late to save it. Sam, Sock and Ben (and Ray Wise, of course) will be missed.

The woeful state of Jerry Bruckheimer's roster of shows surprises me. While the CSI franchise is not going anywhere (especially now that the original series is on such consistently great form, courtesy of Morpheus), Without A Trace and Cold Case look like they're in trouble, with one of them probably cancelled. I get that this is due to the financial pressures of running both shows, but they always seemed like they'd be around forever, like bigotry and flatulence. I say that despite the fact that I watch neither of them and have exactly zero interest in them.


I'm much less surprised that Eleventh Hour is facing doom. It's only just started airing in the UK, on Living (which means watching it exposes me to endless adverts for Grey's Anatomy; a seriously nauseating experience, especially with Kevin "Journeyman" McKidd popping up every couple of seconds to remind me of our favourite recently cancelled series). A less apt channel I cannot imagine, as Eleventh Hour has yet to display a pulse. Is this the most boring show on TV? Yes, despite the insistence of the ever-present Clicking Clock Of Teh Doom, it's much less silly than Fringe, but it's not like it gets the science right even in such unambitious circumstances, so it hasn't even got that going for it.

At least Fringe, while being full of risible science, is not ashamed to forget about realism and just go all out, showing us people turning into rampaging porcupine monsters, or macrophages that burst out of your mouth and crush your windpipe on the way out, or teleportation devices that are just fucking wicked cool and if you don't agree then I'll never love you. Eleventh Hour, on the other hand, is sober but utterly joyless. It also features a lot of googly-oogly eyes, as Rufus Sewell and Marley Shelton have intense ocular orbs that scare the piss out of me. Not for much longer, though. Farewell, Dr. Hood and Thingy Gunbabe. I hardly knew you or cared.


Two other shows I don't watch are Num3e7501019 or whatever the hell it's "called", and The Unit, pictured above (that's First African American President David Palmer carrying what looks like a life doll for people with a fetish for deli-shop owners). While Numbronics has a few fun character actors on it, I cannot understand how a procedural about numbercrunching has managed to last for five seasons, and is likely to come back for another. I saw the first three episodes, and tuned out because I couldn't see how the concept could sustain itself. And yet there it is, running even longer than the similarly restrictive Bones (though of course the charm of that show, apparently, is the chemistry between Boreanaz and Deschanel). What happened to the Numberation format to make it run this long? Was I wrong to drop it? (This is a rhetorical question; I'm not going back to it no matter what I hear.) Maybe a long-running character will turn out to be a serial killer, to the delight of its many fans. Or am I thinking of another show?


In contrast, the possible cancellation of The Unit saddens me despite my utter ignorance of it. Why? Because this year creator Shawn Ryan treated TV watchers to one of the classic seasons of one of the greatest shows ever created. The final season of The Shield was a nerve-destroying tour de force, and to think he's lost one show (on a high) and then maybe lost the other one without fair warning makes me unhappy on his behalf. For providing us with such a thrilling conclusion to The Shield, he should win awards, not get thrown off TV with such disregard. Fingers crossed that, if worst comes to worst, he can come up with another show as great as The Vic Mackey Glower Hour (twice as thrilling as The Jack Bauer Power Hour, even on a good day, tension fans!).

After a whole season of speculation about being dropped by Fox, it looks like Terminator: The Needlessly Long Title Involving The Important-Sounding Word "Chronicles" is finally being cancelled. That, and Dollhouse, have suffered the fate of Friday Night Lights; running to overtake the expectation of imminent extinction. While FNL has, happily, been renewed for two more seasons, T:TSCC is not going to be so lucky. Perhaps Fox only really needed it to dilute the impact of the upcoming film in order to damage its box office chances, if their behaviour over Watchmen is anything to go by. Ironically, even though I was enthusiastic about T:TSCC when I saw the pilot, I only watched one more episode. Of course Torchwood, which I was comparing it to, got worse than even I could imagine, and yet I watched it all the way through to the hysterical end. What's up with that?


Surprisingly, Dollhouse might make it to a second season, which would probably be surrounded with even more chatter about cancellation. The only thing people have linked to Dollhouse more than those early, awful episodes is the expectation that it will not last. While once that was irksome, it's a testament to the quantum leap in quality from the sixth episode on that cancellation would now be a tragedy (in terms of TV show potential, not actual real tragedy). The last two weeks have provided more brain food than any other show on TV that isn't set on a mysterious island. As long as Dollhouse 2.0 is allowed to continue to explore the distortion of the moral norm caused by Dollhouse tech and not just have the ever-unappealing Dushku wandering around in bondage gear prior to some poorly edited fighting, a second season would be welcomed with fireworks and Bacchanalian parties (and, sadly, a flurry of woeful fanfic). If the show is not going to play to its intellectual strengths (yeah, I said it), why bother giving it another chance?


As I said earlier, we're inundated with shows, even more so now that In Treatment is back for two and a half hours a week, so maybe I should be glad Cupid is being axed. I never watched the original starring Jeremy "Mercury from The Metal Men" Piven, so I have very little awareness of what the show is like, but we're talking about a remake of a failed show, replacing the undeniably watchable Piven and the equally appealing Paula Marshall with Bobby Cannavale and Sarah Paulsen. I'm having trouble mustering enthusiasm for this, and now that it's been cancelled, that enthusiasm dims even more. If I do watch it, it'll be out of loyalty to the man who brought us Veronica Mars (though that wasn't enough to make me watch 90210).

Still, I can't imagine that it could be worse than Castle or The Unusuals. Despite the charmkrieg that is Nathan Fillion selling almost every shitty joke and laboured flirt-op (and proving he is indeed better, better than Neil, at so many things it's hard to conceal), everything else about it is to entertainment as formica is to wood. A lot of unimaginative shows feel like they are made by machines, but the machine that made this is constructed out of string and cardboard and powered by irradiated rats. Still, at least it's not The Unusuals. ABC's website made this sound like a drama featuring a bunch of unorthodox cops whose rarified skillsets allowed them to solve crimes no one else could. Canyon thought it was meant to be a straight-up comedy. That it satisfied neither of us is a sign something went haywire as soon as calloused fingers typed Fade In.


It's telling that, in the pilot, you see a clip of Bruce Weitz on TV in some kind of sitcom, as the show also felt a lot like Hill Street Blues, but this time with a team comprising nothing but the weirdos like Renko, Belker, and Buntz, but lacking the stable characters like Furillo, Coffey and Esterhaus. The first hour, directed with typical ineptitude by Stephen "The Reaping" Hopkins, was interminable, cutesy, unimaginative, uninvolving, edited into incoherence, cloying, drab, desperately quirky, and, most annoyingly, filled with terrific, wasted actors, like Jeremy Renner, Harold Perrineau and Terry Kinney. Such talented guys. Oh, and Adam Goldberg is in it too. Erm... ::tumbleweeds blow by::


So, if we lose that, no biggie. Better Off Ted, however, is just about the most lovable show on TV that isn't Reaper, and even if it's not as funny as 30 Rock, or as clever as The Office, it's still worth rooting for, especially as series creator Victor Fresco also gave us Andy Richter Controls The Universe, and I'd feel bad for the guy if he was responsible for two great sitcoms cut down in their prime. It has cemented our love of Portia DeRossi, who is just wonderful as the android-like Veronica Palmer, and has managed to satirise soulless corporate culture in such a non-abrasive manner that we almost love our monolithic overlords by the end of it. It's mild stuff, but compared to the laugh-void that is Parks and Recreation, it's Arrested Development meets Seinfeld. I've got my fingers crossed for it.


Sadly, I doubt anything can save my favourite new show, NBC's bonkers soap opera/religious fable/alternate-reality-curio Kings, which would be unmissable even if it was just 45 minutes of Ian "Swearengen" McShane walking around his "palace" muttering to himself, but manages to excel by featuring Ian "Swearengen" McShane walking around the city of Shiloh, capital city of the Kingdom of Gilboa, scheming against his foes (including Brian Bloody Cox!), railing against a preacher (played by Eamonn Bloody Walker!), and trying to predict what God wants of him in order to protect his eroding power base even when that makes him act against the interest of others. As with Dollhouse, no one expects it to make it to a second season, which is heartbreaking. In a season as dreary as this one (where the only other new shows worth following are the frustratingly erratic Fringe and the fluffy Mentalist) it's been a revelation. No matter how the other shows fare, knowing that the Sword of Nielsen Damocles hangs over such a promising head is enough to make me wonder why the hell I bother watching TV when ambition is so often rewarded with dismissal.

Self-indulgent whinge #268 over.

The 2007-2008 Caruso Awards (The Good)

Though it might seem perverse to be assessing the bests and worsts of a TV year when the new TV year is very much upon us (The Shield started last week, and Fox's big new hope, Fringe, starts tomorrow), weirdly enough we're actually doing this earlier than last year. It's hard to know where to put the cut-off dates, but now seems the right time to get on with this. There are going to be some omissions, such as Mad Men (we didn't think the first season had anything strong enough for inclusion, and the second season, though improved, is not yet over) and The Shield (we're a couple of seasons behind, but catching up fast). Also missing are mentions of Terminator: The Sarah Conicles (© Masticator and Masticatrix) and The Middleman, two shows I think I will end up loving but have not seen enough of to be sure (and believe me, the first fifteen minutes of the third episode of Middleman was so funny it almost got into the list anyway). I will also include a couple of two-parters, because they were just too perfect to be separated, and will regrettably be going over a lot of stuff I've covered before, but what can I say? When I'm enthusiastic about something, I have no off-switch.

Best episodes of the season:

10. Pushing Daisies - Sniff It Good

For a few weeks there, I was in two minds about sticking with Pushing Daisies. Maybe I would have been more forgiving of it if it hadn't been treated like God's own TV show by most critics before it had even aired, a blanket pre-judgement that grated because no one seemed willing to admit that for everything that was right with the show, there was something very wrong. At least, that's how it was at first. As the season progressed, it became clear that the critical consensus was swinging away from blanket praise to complaints that the tone was too sickly, and just to be contrary, we began to fall in love with it. As the show became more bittersweet (in counterpoint to the colours and romance) it blossomed, and this episode represented the high watermark. Not only did it introduce Paul Reuben's olfactory expert, it ended on a heartstopping rendition of Morning Has Broken by Ellen Greene playing over a hallucinatory animation sequence that still makes me choke up whenever I think about it.

9. CSI: Crime Scene Investigation - Goodbye and Good Luck

Coming after the two best seasons of this long-running show, the eighth was a disappointment, though one littered with the odd classic moment. This episode, chronicling the final case of CSI Sara Sidle, was the season highlight by a long chalk. Directed by star helmer Kenneth Fink (also responsible for the excellent finale, which detailed the last moments of CSI Warrick Brown), it featured the return of Sara's arch-enemy, the bad seed Hannah West, and brought their antagonism to a surprising and moving conclusion, just in time for Sara to leave the team in an attempt to save her damaged soul. Visually impressive (as I mentioned at the time), emotionally draining, and beautifully judged, it was the total opposite of the empty gore-fest that non-fans assume CSI to be. Even when not operating at maximum efficiency, surely this is one of the most underrated shows on TV right now.

8. Doctor Who - Forest of the Dead

The general consensus is that no matter how shaky Doctor Who can be, at least Steven Moffat will pop up at some point and save the day. So it was with the River Song two-parter, which was lauded pretty much before it aired. Another truism is that heightened anticipation will often lead to disappointment, and the first part, Silence in the Library, featured so many of the tricks Moffat had already used that this felt less than fresh, even with a spirited performance from Alex Kingston. Luckily for Nu-Whovians everywhere, the second part, Forest of the Dead, was a heartbreaking triumph. Though still reusing elements from previous Moffat scripts (especially The Doctor Dances), the emotional surge in the last five minutes dispelled any misgivings, mixing uplift and tragedy with enough enthusiasm that pointing out its flaws feels like mean-spirited carping.

7. Journeyman - Emily/Blowback

Journeyman was the little show that couldn't, no matter how much we had hoped it would. Damned as nothing more than a Quantum Leap rip-off, it struggled to attract the Heroes audience at exactly the moment that the Heroes audience decided it didn't want to watch an entire episode through, let alone hang around to see what was on afterwards, even if that meant missing out on something bold, complex, and thought-provoking. By this point in the show's run we had realised something special was happening, and this two-parter, exploring the disastrous consequences of Dan Vassar's actions, and the limitations of his power, was a perfect example of its uncompromising storytelling. With our temporally-challenged protagonist's liberal good intentions responsible for attracting the attention of a serial killer (played with sleazy menace by Raphael Sbarge), he is forced to contemplate the unthinkable in order to save his family. Kevin McKidd acted the hell out of that moral quandary, Juan Carlos Coto and Kevin Falls wrote the shit out of it, and all across the internet, people finally woke up to the brilliance of this show. Sadly, it was too late to save it from cancellation.

6. Battlestar Galactica - The Hub

Bouncing back from a sorely disappointing third season, Battlestar Galactica picked up a bit but was still not firing on all cylinders. While the plot seemed to be moving pieces into place with some actual honest-to-God events, of all things, many episodes were still tainted by unconvincing histrionics, variable performances, dreary subplots, and clumsy narrative conceits. The Hub featured none of these. With super-total-ace writer Jane Espenson focusing on Laura Roslin (one of the show's most compelling characters), all of the swish pyrotechnics and gung-ho action paled next to the season's most dramatic moment; Baltar's delirious confession of his role in the Caprican genocide, and Roslin's almost homicidal response. That Mary McDonnell is not the recipient of every award going for her pitch-perfect reaction is a crying shame. And then, to top it off, she tells Bill Adama she loves him. This is the show I once loved. Where the hell has it been?

5. The Venture Brothers - Tears of a Sea Cow

After a long wait, The Venture Brothers returned with a greater emphasis on continuity and drama, to such an extent that my enormous anticipation soon withered into confusion and annoyance. While Jackson Publick and Doc Hammer were still providing the gags, something seemed amiss. By the time we reached Dr. Quymn: Medicine Woman, the repeated focus on a depressed Monarch, the creepy Sgt. Hatred, and Dr. Mrs. The Monarch's efforts to cheer her husband up had robbed the show of so much of its energy that even that episode, which featured none of those characters, was still not hitting the bullseye. Luckily, Tears of a Sea Cow marked a huge return to form. With Dr. Venture and Brock Samson missing in action for the majority of the episode, the focus shifts to Hank, Dean, and Dermot on one side, and The Monarch's defiance of the Guild of Calamitous Intent on the other, and as they all accidentally come into conflict of the most half-hearted kind, the show got its mojo back.


Nothing much happens for 22 minutes, but the details are perfect. 21's immortality misunderstanding, H.E.L.Per's incessant drumbeat (running joke of the year), The Monarch's psychosexual obsession with Dr. Venture coming into full bloom; just those three moments would qualify it for the list, but the episode was filled to the brim with comedic gems. In the last few episodes of this reinvigorated season we were treated to the sight of Mark Twain and Oscar Wilde in a League of Extraordinary Gentlemen spoof, the return of Colonel Gentleman and his manboobs, the introduction of super-robot Ventronic, and a shocking two-part finale that featured death and retirement horror. Arguably, those moments were funnier or more dramatic, but Tears of a Sea Cow wins out for bringing the show back on track.

4. Friday Night Lights - Let's Get It On

As with many of these mini-posts, I've already gone on about this exemplary episode at length, so forgive me for going over old ground, but though this season didn't reach the heights of the first, it was by no means the disappointment that many felt it to be. The worrying plot threads were handled well, the stupid plot threads didn't hang around long, and the performances were as classy as ever. Though the series had many high points, including Riggins' speech to his former team-mates, Santiago's first game, and Tami's sister arriving to drive Coach insane, this episode featured the highest quota of genius moments, with special praise for Street's plunge from a boat and subsequent "baptism", and the sweet and funny Y Tu Mama Tambien scene at the end of the episode. No other show on TV treats adolescent confusion and pain with such seriousness of purpose, or respect for its characters and audience. Everyone who doesn't watch it is missing out on an incredible experience. Seriously.

3. The Office - Dinner Party

The Deposition, the episode that preceded this one, was excruciating enough, showing the relationship between Michael and Jan to be riven with distrust, mutual loathing, and flashes of inappropriate aggression, yet held together by desperation and fear of loneliness. The Dinner Party, set almost entirely in Michael and Jan's house, made The Deposition look like a traditional two-camera and laugh-track sitcom from the 70s. The vicious sniping between Michael and Jan was terrifying in its ruthlessness, made all the worse for happening in front of Jim, Pam, Andy and Angela (and, later, Dwight and his babysitter, played with deadpan skill by the wonderful Beth Grant). Director Paul Feig and writers Lee Eisenberg and Gene Stupnitsky delivered a masterpiece of sphincter-tightening discomfort that not only showed up the original BBC series (which I would have thought was an impossibility), but also anything that fraud Mike Leigh has done. It was the kind of format-busting experiment that proves that, when given enough legroom by the suits at the network, mainstream TV can transcend expectations and deliver devastating and uncompromising storytelling. And yes, I'm aware I'm saying that about a comedy.

2. House M.D. - House's Head / Wilson's Heart

Again, I've hyper-praised these two episodes, but allow me to indulge myself once again. As with the Journeyman two-parter, it's impossible to separate these two episodes, even though this time there is a distinct quality difference between the two. While the second half, with the team attempting to save the life of Amber the Cutthroat Bitch, was measured and quiet, the first part, with hallucinations and bus crashes, was big and flashy. It was a superb episode, but mostly despite the attention-seeking efforts of director Greg Yaitanes. That he has been nominated for an Emmy while Katie Jacobs, director of the second episode, was overlooked, is regrettable (on edit: turns out IMDb lists her as co-director on the first episode, but she gets no attention from the Emmy judges). Nevertheless, this season finale represented House at its best. Coming at the end of the most entertaining and thought-provoking season yet, it was the perfect capper, the best episode in the history of the show, and proved the doubters wrong; there is still life in that controversial static formula, especially when used by a showrunning team as bold as this one.

1. Lost - The Shape Of Things To Come

I have spent the months since the season four finale of my favourite show trying to decide which episode was the one I loved the most. Was it The Constant, which used the baffling premise of the show to create a love story that defied time and mortality? Or was it that amazing last episode, filled with more action and surprise than anything other show screened all year? Or was it the one that made me even more long-winded than usual? Just a week ago, I finally came to the conclusion that it had to be this episode, featuring time-travelling, cold-blooded murder, the triumphant return of Cerberus the Smoke Monster, and the best performance of the year. Screw it, the decade. Michael Emerson's command of the screen is already frightening, and this most shocking of episodes featured his greatest moment yet, a near-wordless breakdown followed by terrifying revenge as our anti-hero chooses to unleash unworldy terror upon his nemesis, even at the cost of losing his hold on the thing he holds most dear. There were countless other superb moments in this episode, but that was the most impressive five minutes of the year. Forgive my hyperbolism, but no other work of art or popular culture has moved and amazed me more than that "simple" bit of acting. I am simply in awe of the man, and the entire Lost team for ignoring the critics and getting us to this point at the deliberate pace they have. If the rest of the payoffs are even a fraction as powerful as those featured in this episode, it will all have been worth it.

Coming up! The ten worst episodes of the year (hint: one of the shows included rhymes with Fuck. Another one rhymes with Norchwood). I might even get into some other stuff. Let's see how this week goes.

Lost - The Constant

After finishing my post about Eggtown last week, I felt a bit bad about bitching about it, as I had managed to enjoy it even though it had not been perfect. I had considered editing it to make it a little less catty, and when I realised I had neglected to mention my biggest bugbear (that the shots of the Barracks featured no evidence of anyone other than our heroes living there even though Locke had managed to rustle up a convoy of panicky survivors to drink his Kool Aid), I figured I'd let it slide even though it irked me throughout.


Now that I've seen The Constant twice, I can safely say that the quality gulf between them was so large that I feel no further guilt, though to be honest that's as much because The Constant was a series highlight as it is due to Eggtown being below par. The latest mind-bending time-travelling adventures of Desmond were as great as hoped, though not for the reasons I expected.

Of course, I still had my fill of the cool WTF stuff that I love so much. Possibly the most startling moment came when we saw Charles Widmore bidding on a Black Rock journal put up for auction by the hitherto unmentioned Tovard Hanso, but this is only really interesting to Lost nerds, and is probably only a set up for something later in the series. That's if he shows up later. In my last Lost post I whined about Ken Leung disappearing from the show as he is signed to be in a play, but now it seems he's not the only one. Will Alan Dale's Grail quest ruin our show? If so, decorum prevents me from disclosing where I'm going to push that pram a lot.

So, it was cool to see Charles Widmore hunting down island memorabilia, and it was cool to see an episode that eschewed flashbacks altogether, with the show format replaced by a linear (to Desmond) narrative that just happened to move back and forth in time (though it's arguable that that is what the show has always done, in a manner of speaking), and it was way cool to see the scope of the show expand a little further, with the panoramic first shots of the freighter looking just gorgeous.


However, the meat of the episode, the stuff that made it so special, was the temporary pay-off to the Desmond-Penny love story. This has been building up for a couple of years now, and hopefully it will come to an even more satisfying conclusion later (i.e. one that doesn't involve any death, showrunners!!!!), but for now, this was exactly what we were after, and not just because Desmond never shuts up about her. Seriously, I'm amazed no one has thrown him into Room 23 for some serious reprogramming before now.

Desmond's desperation might have been a little wearing in previous episodes, but this week Cuse and Lindelof cleverly made his search for Penny a life-or-death quest through time, his life depending on finding her both in the past and the present. His consciousness zipping back and forth between two versions of himself, he sought her out in an effort to keep his mind rooted in time, a condition brought on by what I assume is his exposure to the electromagnetic forces unleashed when the Swan station imploded. That said, was the time travelling side effect triggered by the helicopter leaving the path Faraday gave Frank?


It certainly seemed like the storm blew the helicopter off course, even if it was by a few degrees. If this is the case, and if this is the same heading given to Michael in the season two finale, perhaps everyone on the island is similarly affected and irradiated, and all the hatch implosion did was temporarily unmoor Desmond's consciousness in Flashes Before Your Eyes. Perhaps all my conjecturising is futile, as it's not like we got all the answers we wanted this week (which is just fine for the hardcore fans).

Of course it also meant a return for Sonya Walger. I've never been crazy about the character of Penny prior to this episode, but it was good to see Walger back in that role again, after her appearances in Tell Me You're My Constant and Terminator: TSCC. In those she often comes off poorly, either as a baby-crazy beyhotch or second-best ladyfriend to someone still besotted with his soldier girl from the past, but here she got to be the spurned lover and the loyal soulmate hunting her true love across the planet. We've had hints of her proactive nature before now, so seeing her past fury at Desmond for deserting her was deeply unsettling at first.


As Desmond's brain approached boiling point, he found his true love in 1996 with the help of her evil dad, improbably enough, and got her phone number, despite her fears that he would just use it to start phoning her immediately, which was the last thing pastPenny wanted after being spurned so nastily on the South Bank of the Thames. Telling her he would call her in eight years, she turfed him out of her expensive London pad, and he disconsolately walked away, heartbroken by her rejection of him and probably convinced she was not going to wait around for his call.


In every previous episode the flashbacks have followed a steady format, with whooshy music and a cut at the crescendo, but as this episode had linear flashbacks that were part of the plot, Desmond's timehopping went unheralded by editing tricks. We saw his jumps become more frequent, until he was skipping back and forth, waiting on the phone in the present, walking away in the past. After turning away from Penny's house he hops back from pastDesmond to 2004 to begin his call to Penny (thus making her prediction about his immediate calling come true, in a way), and in possibly the most poetic time travel moment since the final scene of The Terminator, future Desmond hears Penny pick up the phone, and in the past he realises that his terrible mistake in running away from Penny has been resolved.


Earlier tonight a colleague commented on how Lost is often misinterpreted as a clinical show with no real emotion behind it, and cited the season one finale with Sawyer telling Jack about his father as an example of how stupid that criticism is. That was a moving scene, and I'm sure if I had more time I could think of others. There's never been anything like this moment before, though.


While the Jack-Kate-Sawyer-Juliet quadrangle has its charms, and while Sawyer's longing has made me tear up before, Penny and Desmond's ill-fated love has been the most "sappy" arc on the show, sometimes veering too close to Hallmark sentimentality to convince me on an emotional level. It's a different story now. I have no idea where they're going with this arc, and I fear the worst (why else give Desmond a final book to read, other than to copy John Updike?), but this incredible finale obliterated all of my doubt. I cried a bit when I first saw it, and watching it again yesterday I was a blubbering mess. As Desmond said, it was perfect. Well done, Darlton/Cuselof. Well done.


I had a moment of worry in the middle of the episode, though, as did Canyon, who groaned audibly when the concept of The Constant was introduced. Coming so soon after talk of lasers and consciousnesses traveling through time, it seemed awfully soppy one, and more than a little contrived. However, it did inspire a burst of fanwanking from myself (that it makes sense that the human mind can take control of its reaction to time travelling), and an observation from Canyon that in the end it doesn't matter because it worked so beautifully within the episode and gave us some emotionally cathartic drama with Desmond's large-scale goal (find Penny) reduced to a break-neck race to save himself (and don't heartfelt old romantics often think that failure to pursue the object of their unrequited love is of more importance than anything else?).

I also like that as the scene cut back and forth between the two of them gabbling promises of love and fealty to each other, they finished on a moment of synchronicity, saying "I love you," at the same time. Throughout the episode there were other dualities. It was only a few minutes ago that I noticed pastDesmond has short hair thanks to the dress code of the army, and futureFaraday also has short hair (though he retains his beard), whereas futureDesmond, naturally, has long crazy hair, as does pastFaraday. It's all tonsorially topsy turvy!


Some of the characters have reflections or dopplegangers, though I'll admit they're a bit of a stretch. Juliet faced off against CS Lewis, snottily complaining about the rescuers' treatment of the islanders, conjuring up some classic bitchface in the process (this is the most we've seen Juliet do so far this season, so I'm grateful to Darlton and show director Jack Bender for giving us this).


It got thrown right back at her by CS, who not only has the same brand of caustic sarcasm when affronted, but has similar hair and a similar build (though of course pretty much every woman on the island, bar Rose, is as skinny as a rake, so that's not a surprise). Also, she's awfully keen on Faraday keeping his secrets from the castaways, which is how Juliet behaved in season three, convincing Jack not to reveal their Otherkilling plan to Kate.


A new character, Keamy was introduced on the freighter (the name seemed potentially relevant, but the only vaguely Losty name I could find on the internet was this mime and massage chap who performs a work called Namaste). Played by a former comedian called Kevin Durand, he did nothing to suggest evil, but it poured off him anyway. He seriously creeped me out, even as he calmly stuck Desmond in the sick bay with easy platitudes and an imposing physical presence (i.e. he is enormous).


Meanwhile, Desmond's consciousness was flashing back to his time in the army, being bellowed at by an imposing sergeant played by Graham McTavish, who was recently seen bellowing at everyone in earshot in Sylvester Stallone's gizzard-shredding insane-athon Rambo. Typecast much?


Jack Bender also made sure to frame Desmond and Minkowski in a similar way, in order to draw attention to the similarity of their fates. While Minkowski is strapped down like this...


...Desmond is similarly "bound" by duty in the army, with the blanket echoing the straps on his fellow time traveller. Don't forget, only fools are enslaved by time and space.


I was a little confused by some things, though. Did Minkowski lose his memory too, or was that just Desmond and Faraday? Has Faraday been time travelling too? It stands to reason considering he has been exposed to a lot of radiation and has travelled through the disturbance surrounding the island. Does Desmond's appearance in the past mean his own memory has come back? It seemed likely, but again, it's hard to theorise about this as we don't have enough information yet. It also raises questions about Faraday's motivations thus far. Were the coordinates he gave Frank correct? And why do I not trust CS Lewis and think she's a bad egg? Perhaps the next episode will clear that up. I mean, clear it up as much as anything is cleared up on this show.

Further notes on this magnificent episode. If you're going to travel by plane and are at risk of crashing on a magnetised island, be sure to pack a pocket Sayid. That guy can do just about anything.


Good to see Marc "Ecklie from CSI" Vann playing a shady doctor, though due to the lack of computing power I have no way to get screen captures and YouTube clips didn't seem to find his presence worthy of inclusion in their library. So you'll have to take my word for it.

My favourite echo of the episode was Faraday telling Desmond that he can't change the future, which was the stern lesson given to him by Mrs. Hawking, Time Cop. At least this time no one got crushed by a building, Wicked Witch-style. I also liked Faraday bitching about the possible prank being played on him with, "Time paradox. How uninspiring." Another instance of Darlton playing with the audience and their critics. That said, as delightful as I found that, I screeched in frustration as Penny, mid-phone call, began to explain how her search for Desmond had involved some research when a burst of static covered her explanation. You teasing bastards! I take back my earlier praise.

When Minkowski died from the brain aneurysm, was anyone else reminded of Mikhail's "death" when he walked through the sonic fence? Will this death prove to be as temporary, or did they really cast Fisher Stevens just so they could kill him off straight away? Seems odd.


Or maybe it was punishment for playing the "comedy" Indian in the Short Circuit movies.


Not that he is entirely to blame, of course, but John Badham and Kenneth Johnson's careers aren't exactly in full bloom, and I'd like to think it's karmic in nature. And if you think I'm misremembering the horror of his "Oh dearie dear!" performance, Short Circuit 2 was on Five just a few hours before Lost aired on Sky One, and we watched a bit of it, our faces slack with horror. And that one didn't even have Ally "Best character in The Breakfast Club" Sheedy in it to make up for it! Pisspoor stuff.

When Desmond arrives in Oxford (nice of his time travelling to stop working during a long train journey from Glasgow), we see Faraday treating one of his students like total crap. For some reason that made me really happy, knowing that even a meek and put-upon physicist like him can be a pompous bully when necessary. I also noticed the campus for "Oxford" looks a lot like the monastery from Desmond's previous flashback episode. Were they filmed in the same place?


Pink laser! A nod to PKD's Valis, which I didn't pick up at first.


Of course, Philip K Dick was once hit by a pink laser fired by God (or a sentient satellite) and gave him the information that saved his son's life from a inguinal hernia. There are hints and tributes to Dick's work throughout the series; that super-relevant intonation "Only fools are enslaved by time and space" is derived from a Buddhist text, but it is reminiscent of some of Dick's writings. At least to me.

Loved the scary scene with the helicopter being buffeted by what looked like a bad storm on the way off the island. At last we see the rough ride we've been promised for so long.


The effects for this episode were supervised by Mitch Suskin, taking over from Kevin Blank, who appears to be working on other stuff following Blankscreen's superb effects work on Cloverfield. A quick IMDb check shows Blank worked on Tsui Hark's Legend of Zu, which is on my to-watch list. Cooler than that, Suskin worked on Predator and Poltergeist. In my capacity as an effects nerd, I am impressed.

Sad to see Sayid and Frank not getting on, especially with the bitchy comment from Frank about phoning Baghdad. Don't be a dick, dude. That said, even though we've not spent much time with him, it seems in keeping with his character that he would be a bit of a reactionary ass about such things. So yay for fleshing Frank out realistically, but boo to the jerkiness. More Frank awesomeness soon, please.

Apologies if this sounds bitchy, but what was up with Desmond's eye?


I really thought it was an effect of some sort, like a contact lens, to show that his brain was distorting due to the time travelling, but I don't think it is. Perhaps I should look back on previous episodes and see if there's anything else at play there.


It's like Steve Bell's cartoons of Tony Blair or something.


There's no need for that.