In Which I Review Once Upon a Time (5x8 and 5x9)

On this week's episode of Once Upon a Time, the writers discovered lesbians! Oh, and Emma's plan was finally laid bare, but honestly, who care about that?! We had two hours (groan) of OUAT this week, mostly because ABC randomly ordered a second episode for inexplicable reasons and while neither episode fit together into one cohesive narrative (as opposed to, say, Smash the Mirror or the two part season finales) OUAT did attempt to and try to make inroads into exploring diversity and the many types of people there are, not only in their fictional world but in the real one as well. I say try because it was a mess (as was to be expected) and somewhat insulting that the tacked on second episode was given to planting the seeds for a LGBT relationship with the least amount of effort as possible, but hey--they did try. In the first half of the two hour extravaganza, "Birth," we finally got some much needed answers about what on God's (Merlin's?) green earth Emma Swan is even doing this season and why we were supposed to be worried about she of the dark leather and spray painted hair (seriously, I worry for the state of Jennifer Morrison's hair with all this white frosting-in-a-can. Her roots must be tragic!). And in the second half of the night, "The Bear King," not a single soul was shocked that Arthur killed King Fergus and the aforementioned lesbians were discovered, or at least teased, or alluded to. Sort of. We are almost--blessedly--at the end of this season and now we get one week off. So, everyone grab their favorite Magical McGuffin of the season (got my rape sand at the ready! But magical ale will do in a pinch) and let's trek down the path of Camelot meets Brave meets Heroes Journey meets who-the-hell-knows. 

The Villain Explains It All

Because this week we were treated (lolz) to a two hour session of OUAT, I'm really only going to pick up a few narrative themes and salient points for this review. Don't worry; I'll turn my critical eye to the LGBT exploration in a bit. But up first, have you ever seen a James Bond film? I'm using that as my launch point because I figure that everyone has seen at least one James Bond film in their life, be it a Connery or a Moore or a Bronson. The reason I bring this up is because in every Bond film there is a moment when the villain inexplicably explains all his diabolical schemes to Mr. Bond--usually while the MI-6 spy is chained, gagged, and in danger of losing his life, a limb, or both. It's the explanation portion of the movie. Up until now, the villain has talked in coded language (even though the villain is clearly in on the whole plot and plan) because we need to keep the audience in suspense. For the past seven episodes we've essentially had Emma Swan acting as a Bond villain in present day Storybrooke, talking in coded and secretive language in order to keep the audience in suspense (and, to be honest, tuning in) and to make the other characters--Snow, Charming, Regina, Robin, and Hook--run in circles trying to figure out what in the world the Dark One is playing at. This episode, then, is akin to Goldfinger tying Sean Connery to a slab and prattling on about Fort Knox and the Grand Slam (no, seriously, if you haven't seen a James Bond film, start with Goldfinger. Classic). I wonder if this makes Hook our Pussy Galore. Yeah, there's a really horrible joke in there somewhere, but I'll be polite and pass it over. All of this really boils down to one question: what is Emma Swan's plan? What has she been doing all season and why? Well, much like Rumple 200 years ago, Emma is atoning for a sin but unlike Rumple, who's sin was grounded in something human and sympathetic and deep and meaningful (you know, searching for his son), Emma is all about her main squeeze, the boy she's been dating for a hot second. That's right. Everything she's doing, the sin Ms. Swan is atoning for, is all about Hook. You see, Emma is really scared of commitment and she's afraid of what a future with Hook would look like until she is suddenly face to face with no future with him. I mean, I'm terrified of a future with Hook as well but that's because he is a patronizing, egotistical murderer who likes his eyeliner more than morals. But I suspect that Emma has something different in mind. Let's talk about how offensive this is. Yes, Emma's plan becomes to vanquish the darkness once and for all (by putting it in Zelena and then killing the Witch which is just straight up cold blooded murder, but the Dark Swan justifies this by reminding us that Zelena killed Neal because, all of sudden, Emma cares about that pesky detail) but in Camelot, Emma wanted to hold on to the darkness not because of some larger mythological plan but because of a boy. Her entire story was just downgraded from Savior/Dark One/Heroes Journey to "woman afraid of commitment with lover so does everything possible to run away" including turning her love interest into another Dark One.

I can promise you that I am trying--trying--not to turn this portion of my blog into a rant against CaptainSwan or Hook or even just the show but I am legitimately 100% confused and baffled by this turn of events. Emma cannot let Hook die, but she's willing to multiply the darkness and let there be two Dark Ones in existence (which is something that has never happened and something we are told cannot happen, but let's bypass that, I guess) in order not to lose her boyfriend. The father of her child, Emma will lose and let stay dead even when she goes back in time; but the guy she's been seeing for all of a few months, well him we have to save. I am going to try and frame my argument in a rational manner and not come across as someone who, under no circumstances, would ever ship CaptainSwan. I know that any criticisms against me and what I am about to say would be couched thus, but I shall endeavor to try and head those off at the pass. There is something so insulting about making Emma's hero journey, her path from darkness back to the light, all about her love interest. Now, would I say the same thing if it had been Nealfire? Maybe, but with a caveat that if it had been Neal, the narrative would have been weightier and more poetic. Nealfire turning into a Dark One at the hands of his true love, another father having to deal with being a Dark One to his son? Emma and Neal trying to work together to save each other? Henry and Rumple working to save both of them, their father/son and mother/Savior? That's poetry. That's storytelling that touches on so many of the themes this show began with, like family and sacrifice. But like so much this season, it felt as though the story was given to Hook only because the real character it was meant for is six feet underground. Now, I would have had issues with Emma's journey centering around a love interest and a man, even if it was Neal, because Emma is her own woman and her decision to go villain should rest on her own impetus, not born out of her role as a lover (as opposed to a independent woman, daughter, mother, savior or really any combination of those elements). But this is nothing new for OUAT is it? Regina lost Daniel; Cora was used by Jonathan and Leo; Zelena was rejected by Rumple; Ingrid was made to feel like a monster by the Random Kidnapper in the Woods and the Duke of Wesselton; Ursula had her voice taken by Hook; and Mal had her baby stolen by Snow and Charming. If you're an evil woman on this show, it's because of a man. It always comes back to the fact that men have control and power over women and when the guys hurt the gals or when women suddenly find themselves without their man, the natural course is to go evil.

If Emma's story was just about wanting to end the darkness by becoming darkness and defeating it from the inside, then it's a story worth telling. But that's not what is happening. Emma's desire to conquer the darkness stems, first and foremost, from the desire to save Hook. Emma was fine bringing Prometheus's flame to life and forging the sword with the dagger and then driving out her own darkness, with no thought of what to do with said darkness afterwards. But the second her boyfriend is in trouble, then she has to destroy the darkness once and for all--even going so far as to make Zelena to go into super early labor, kidnap the formerly green Witch, put the Darkness inside Zelena and then kill her. Emma's reactions are extreme in a way that makes her look beyond all rationality, almost akin to Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction (bunnies of the world, look out!) And it's all for a man. Not her son, not her mother or father or even the world or cosmos at large: it's all for Hook. Suddenly Emma Swan's main story goes from being a Mother-Savior to being Captain Hook's girlfriend. You realize, I hope, that Emma hasn't even talked to her parents one-on-one in quite awhile? Like I said, insulting. At one point Emma asks Regina what wouldn't the former Evil Queen do to save Robin and I was reminded that Regina, 6 episodes back, decided to sacrifice herself to a Fury for Robin Hood--leaving her 13 year old son alone in the world. So it appears that romance is all that matters all around. I remember a time when the love from a parent was touted as the most important love on this show. Emma refusing to let Henry die? Fine. That works. But refusing to let Hook die? No. This is to say nothing of the ill conceived logic and yet another crack in the world building of the already flimsy world structure of OUAT. So suddenly there can be two Dark Ones? And if Hook is a Dark One then why hasn't he been hearing the Dark Ones voices? Why hasn't he felt the Darkness inside? Why hasn't he exhibited any powers? Why hasn't he been acting evil or even slightly out of control? Remember how fragile Emma was in Camelot when the Darkness was taunting her? She was treated like a patient with a terminal illness. There is a thing in stories called foreshadowing. I think Adam and Eddy used to know what that meant. Now, they clearly don't. For an episode that was supposed to answer all the questions, I am left confused, befuddled, frustrated and frankly disappointed that what started off as a strong season opener so quickly devolved into the cliche soap opera trappings that OUAT is ever so fond of. What does this mean now? Most likely that Hook will make the ultimate sacrifice and absorb all the Darkness and be taken to the Underworld and then it's Emma's turn to save him, like Hook tried to save her at the beginning of this season. Adam and Eddy will call it circular and poetic. I call it nonsense.

Enter The (Sort Of, Really Vaguely Alluded To, More Like New Buds) Lesbians 

The second hour of our two hour special was, without a doubt, one of the most pointless and thoughtless episodes of OUAT I have ever seen. There was zero point to this episode. It had no connection to the current arc of the Dark Swan or even, really, to Camelot, even if Arthur did appear. Outside of Zelena, none of the main characters appeared and instead the story focused on a character we've met a grand total of twice and who has never been built as a sympathetic character that I should be invested in. Oh, and the show tried to touch on an LGBT relationship in the most unimaginative way possible. And by that I mean that the chest-thumping Adam and Eddy were doing earlier this year about exploring an LGBT relationship is laughable since, in the end, Mulan and Ruby are less romantic interests and more budding friends who decide to go hunt werewolves together. There was no hint of a relationship between the warrior and wolf. There were no long looks, no hand holding and certainly no kissing. In fact, if you hadn't known that OUAT promised an LGBT relationship this season would you even have known that Mulan and Ruby were supposedly set up as one? If anything, Mulan and Merida had a greater connection and more chemistry and history between them than Mulan and Ruby. The girl-wolf didn't even enter the narrative until about thirty-five minutes in and, after that, she was a secondary character to Merida's story line. I'm not even sure why she was there helping out Merida! This is endemic of a much larger problem on OUAT: inclusion and representation. You can count on one hand the number of people of color who are still alive and not evil. Go ahead. Count. Did you get past Regina? I doubt it. She's it, folks! And even then the "not evil" iota raises certain eyebrows. How about gays or lesbians or transgendered peoples? None. Mulan is apparently bisexual but only in the most vague way possible. The writers make Mulan play the pronoun name, never explicitly stating that she was into Aurora, not Philip. They have never said nor had Mulan say, out in the open, loud and proud, that she is bisexual/pansexual/gay. It's the 21st century! It's 2015! We live in an age where gay boys and girls are being beat up, harassed, and are killing themselves for those they chose to love. Wouldn't it be great--wouldn't it be empowering--for our media to tell the LGBT people of the world that they are loved, they are equal, and that their stories deserved to be told right alongside straight peoples! But no. OUAT doesn't have it in them. They won't fight that battle, but they'll take the credit for being "bold" and pushing an LGBT narrative. Heads up, Adam and Eddy. You're part of the problem, not the solution.

Miscellaneous Notes on Birth and The Bear King

--I passed over a ton of plot points, I know. So let's try to hit some other things here in the notes, shall we? Emma sped up gestation and Zelena gave birth to a green baby girl. Let's name her. I'm going to go with Esmeralda because it's a "green" name. Also, I fully expect that motherhood will redeem Zelena, which is overly misogynistic and horrifying all at once. Looking forward to that one!

--Arthur and Guinevere casually sit around a ping pong table, drinking wine, in full regalia.

--How many Magical McGuffins were there in these two hours? Baby's tears, squid ink, the helmet, the flame, the dreamcatcher the sword, and the dagger. With special appearances by the cuff and Hook's hook. Did I miss any? Oh. Right: magical ale that lets you talk to dead people.

--Belle held a crossbow to Hook's head. Now if only she had gotten trigger happy.

--Is it mandated that people in Camelot can only wear one outfit for all of time? Shouldn't Emma's white virginal gown be filthy by now?

--Operation Light Swan can go forth and die, thanks. They got a house by the water. I want to set something on fire.

--Hook explained all his baubles. They were all taken from men he killed for petty and selfish reasons and then he kept trinkets as souvenirs. What a guy! Totally the guy we want in a love story that is being lauded and pushed in media as a love story of the ages.

--Dr. Whale's dye job! But he was acting more like Blaine on iZombie, a far superior show.

--I did like the magic fight between Merlin and Emma. It was overly short, but I'll take what I can get between the two most powerful magicians of all time, I guess.

--Speaking of, what happened to Merlin? Is he dead? 

--When in the name of sanity did the flashbacks for the Bear King take place? And why, for the love of all that is holy, was there a magical bean? Adam and Eddy swore those things off!

--I do not, for one second, believe that Ruby would go running off and leave her Granny all alone on the off chance that she might find some wolves. And neither Snow nor Granny have mentioned that Red went off exploring in the season since she magic bean'd her way out of SB?

--Why does the sword make Hook dark? I though the sword represented the light and the dagger was the darkness? Light and dark, two halves of a whole. That was actually a great narrative point back in the first episode. But this time, it made Hook...dark?

In Which I Review Doctor Who (9x9)

Here is what happened. When you stop to think about it, you will find that there are no words in the English language quite as scary or damning, when it comes to telling a story, as the sentence that preceded this one. Why? Because unless you are a third person omniscient narrator, there is virtually no way for you to construct and tell a story without some sort of perspective, bias, color, and prejudice. Objectivity does not exist, especially in storytelling, be it of the paperback variety or of the pixelated TV kind. We are all subjective creatures who see the world through our own eyes, our own psyche, and we color our experiences with those eyes and psyche. In other words, "here is what happened" is almost never what happened. This week's episode, "Sleep No More," tries very hard to demonstrate that rather complex thesis. We are presented with a story, shot from various first person perspectives--including that of a ship--and are asked some very basic questions: what is real? what is not? And most importantly of all, what really happened? It's a very intense exercise and experiment for the writers and directors but as an audience member there is one more question we need to ask ourselves: did this episode work? Wipe the sleep from your eyes and let's go! 

Usually, Doctor Who is told from a third person omniscient perspective. We see the Doctor as the writer and showrunner have crafted and created him, and while we get hints of how other people view him (the Companions for instance) the perspective is usually one and the same: mad man with a box who falls from the sky and, most of the time, manages to save the day with a wink, a joke, and some wonderful science-fiction-meets-magic moments. Here's a something to ponder: is this episode actually any different? Rasmussen is the creator of this little story that we are watching--though, we must always remember that Mark Gatiss is sitting in the real driver's seat. Rasmussen took what he shot and decided what he showed, what he did not show, and how he put it all together. The mad scientist tells us at the start that what we are about to see is incomplete--but in chronological order--and that there might be missing bits--though, to further complicate matters, we must stop and wonder if he's telling the truth in this regard or if these supposed missing bits are part of his larger narrative. So much of Rasmussen's story is built on the fact that he's a liar. See, this is going to get really complicated before we're all through. This episode wants us to believe that it's different. An experiment in type and form, if you will. Instead of seeing the Doctor and the plot through a third party that gets to see everything at once, we are only ever through the eyes of one character at a time; the various rescue mission members, the ship itself, and occasionally Clara, are our windows into what is happening. If we were to just stop there, then this episode might be called brilliant for the overall narrative concept. Writer Mark Gatiss is really creating a story about creating a story. The details, the different perspective, the notion that everyone has a vantage point that is somehow different from the person next to them and that no two stories are going to be the same, is an exercise in storytelling gymnastics. So for example, we see the Doctor through Clara's eyes and he's the same egotistical but lovable scamp he always is. When the perspective changes to someone who does not know him, his tendencies to speak in riddles or even quote obscure poetry come out making him more of an enigma.

If you sit and ponder the way it was set up, I'm not so sure it was different from other Doctor Who episodes. You still had the Doctor as a mad man in a box who fell from the sky and tried to save the day. Again, whether or not he succeeded seems up to each individual viewer. Rasmussen wants us to believe that the Doctor failed and abandoned the ship and let the Morpheus transmission go out, but the universal truth of the Doctor is that he wins and saves the day. Always. Perhaps those elements--the mad man, the box, the hero complex--are also simply universal truths wherever the Doctor goes (and my blog has largely argued that to be true over the years). At the end of the day, I think what Gatiss was really trying to do was challenge his audience. He doesn't want us to love the story and, while I'm sure he doesn't want us to hate it either, the writer in this case wants us to sit and ponder whether or not we loved it or hated it. Gatiss wants this episode to be an earworm, something we can't stop thinking about, even after the credits have rolled. He wants us--like Rasmussen--to share it with someone and see what they think. Our answer to whether we loved it or hated it comes down to individual perspective on what makes a good story. In that regard, with the concept (somewhat) firmly in place, then we might call this episode a stroke of genius at the most and something very new after fifty-years at the very least. The problem is that it's a terrible episode. In other words, Gatiss succeeds but Rasmussen fails (but does the latter mean that the former is incorrect? Or does the latter being true mean that the former is definitely correct? See! This episode is a challenge!)

Leave the high concept and storytelling somersaults alone for a moment and let's consider the story Rasmussen sets up with the help of his video cameras (that aren't really there?) and his expositional moments. If I said I was having trouble describing the plot of this episode, I would not be lying even in the slightest. From what my very jumbled notes can parse out, Morpheus is a new *mumble* science thing that is designed to eliminate a person's need for sleep; as Rasmussen intones, we spend about a third of our lives asleep and time is money. Imagine all the money making opportunities we are missing because we need at least eight hours of shut eye. Morpheus is, then, designed to help you sleep no more (roll credits!) and allow you to go months without needing sleep. The problem is that the gunk that forms in your eye builds up overtime and becomes Sandmen. It eventually consumes the person who is not sleeping and turns them into blind sand demons. Or something. This plot, this bare bones plot that I just gave, is like something out of a low budget B-level science fiction movie that you find on the SyFy channel at 3 am. Think Sharknado but with gunk (only Sharknado was surprisingly entertaining in its stupidity). Some B-level films can at least make for an entertaining two hours of TV, but this episode of Doctor Who, when we just consider the story Rasmussen created, is cliche, boring, and frankly silly. There are Doctor Who trappings by the bucket load this week--long and too dark corridors with lots of running and screaming; a team of red-shirt scientists who get picked off one by one; a silly monster with no agenda, no personality, and a truly eye-roll (pun intended!) worthy conception, who's only mission is to destroy for "reasons." There are several climaxes, long winded explanations, and, worst of all, it's deadly dull and seems to stretch on forever. The Doctor at one point yells, "none of this makes any sense!" and he's right. None of it really made any sense. Rasmussen is a poor storyteller because he fails to deliver any meaning or heart or just plain logic to his narrative; there are too many twists, too many turns, too many fast changes in what was really happening (or was it happening?) for any of his--Rasmussen's--story to be effective. However, we then come back to real life writer Mark Gatiss and whether or not in having Rasmussen lack all of those things Gatiss is succeeding in telling a story: a story about what makes a good story. Can you all tell that I'm slightly befuddled, amused, annoyed, and confused about this episode? I simply don't know if this episode works. It's experimental but also full of cliche; it might be brilliant but it's also barking mad and stupid. It's high art but also low budget horror films at their worst. With all that in mind, and admitting that I simply don't know where I really stand on this, I think it's time to go to bed. After all, sleep is essential if you don't want to become a gunk monster.

Miscellaneous Notes on Sleep No More

--I always rank the episodes of Doctor Who at the end of each season, so it'll be exciting to see where this one ends up because I honestly don't know right now.

--Not having any opening credits is a nice touch, reminding us that what we're watching isn't an episode of Doctor Who but supposed to be "found footage" of "real events" that "actually happened." The credits at the beginning would take us out of that moment. 

--"What happened?" "From the beginning of time? That's a very long story."

--"Hold my hand." "I'm fine." "I'm not." The fact that Clara will be gone soon made the Doctor wanting to hold her hand even more poignant. 

--Rasmussen's final explanation is a final break in the fourth wall that sounds almost too much like a Gatiss-insert: "I hope you enjoyed the show, I did try to make it exciting. All those scary bits, all those death-defying scrapes, and a proper climax...compelling viewing"

--Clara never gets to name things. Only the Doctor gets to name new creatures the duo stumble upon. How God-like of him. (Stay self-aware, Doctor Who!)

--One final Gatiss-insert: "I did tell you not to watch." So was that advice we should have taken? What, my dear readers, really happened?

In Which I Review Sleepy Hollow (3x7)

This week's episode of Sleepy Hollow, "The Art of War," does not feature John Noble. When the show trots out a title such as this week's, one expects Henry Parrish/Jeremy Crane/the Horseman of War. Sadly, we did not get to see Mr. Noble and hear his low timber of a voice. However, this does not mean that the episode was a total wash. In fact, I really rather enjoyed this round of Sleepy Hollow goodness, but I'm a sucker for Egyptian mythology so maybe I'm not exactly impartial here (don't worry, Greek mythology. You're still first in my heart). Welcome to the show, Mr. Scary Man! Joking aside, the major theme and thrust of this episode is really two-fold: teasing the agent behind the Second Tribulation and fear of the unknown; all this time, we knew Pandora was working for someone, a darker being than herself, who was pulling the strings. Turns out, the Bigwig-Behind-What-Is-To-Come, is an actual god! Well, I assume he was a god. Big loud voice and coming through a tree tends to mean something not-human. My friends and I were having a friendly debate while watching: Amun-Ra, Anubis, or Set? Turns out: we don't know yet! Yay, I love a mystery. I'll go into why I think he's Amun-Ra in the proper review but as we approach the fall finale, it's all about every player falling into place as the next wave of the Apocalypse comes to Sleepy Hollow. Go berserk because here we go! 

Let's start off with something that definitely deserves a hearty round of applause: the show is opening up its mythology to encompass more of the world's stories. Sleepy Hollow has never shied away from touching on various world mythologies; beasts and monsters of the week have come from all over but are always summarily dismissed. The Big Bads and the coming End of Days have always been rooted in the Judeo-Christian traditions. When your Headless Horseman is also the Horseman of Death, is in league with the Horseman of War, and are paling around with a demon from Purgatory, it's easy to say that Christian mythology is in the driver's seat. However, in this season, Pandora's inclusion opened up the door to greater possibilities since she very clearly comes from some time before the Christian era. Many cultures have end of the world stories. The idea of the old passing away into the new and some sort of divine battle of good versus evil isn't localized to the Christian mythos. Ragnorak, the Islamic Day of Judgement, Frashokereti, and the list can go on,  cultures tell stories about the end of the world as a way to understand their present and the broad scope of history. Everything must end; this too shall pass and other such cliche sayings. By including a Big Bad who is (I assume) not a Big Bad from the Christian tradition but instead from other sources, demonstrates that the show realizes that Apocalyptic traditions are a big deal to many people, not just the one from which the writers come. On a show that tries its hardest to celebrate diversity, it's nice to see the writers take that theme and transition them beyond just the color of their characters. So why do I think this guy in the hood is Amun-Ra? Let's look at the clues; first, clearly an Egyptian deity, not that this helps us narrow it down. Second, Jenny is being set up as a consort type figure. The fact that Jenny feels as powerful as the man in her visions suggests that there is a equal link between the two. Man and woman, the perfect balance. Amun is almost always linked to his female consort, Amunet (if you've seen the show "Penny Dreadful," think Vanessa Ives). Third, there were various sun images in Jenny's scrawlings on the wall; Amun, in various stages of Egyptian history, is grouped with sun gods, including Ra. Fourth (and I admit that this is the biggest clue) the credits on IMDB list the character as "The Hidden One." Amun roughly translates to, you guessed it, "the hidden one." It has been awhile since I did any predictions for Sleepy Hollow, but there it is: Amun-Ra is the Big Bad and he has made Jenny into his Amunet. I think that makes Pandora akin to a high priestess? Still unsure how Pandora serves Amun.

Now that I've made some predictions, let's talk about fear of the unknown, which was the other major theme of this episode. Really, we could substitute "unknown" for future and it would amount to the same. For Joe, it's fear of what life might be like without Jenny (if he lost her) and, really, what life might be like with her (if they gave in and were together). For Jenny, it's fear of what is happening to her. She admits to Abbie that during those moments of her skin glowing red and going all white-eyed, Jenny feels powerful. Again, it's fear of what life might be like with that power and what she might become. But it's also fear of what life might be like without that power and how Jenny could never have that feeling ever again. Abbie is clearly fearing what is happening to Jenny, but she's also scared about her future with the FBI. Abbie is a control freak; she knows it and she doesn't try to deny it. Abbie likes keeping her life in organized boxes. Personal life over in Box A and career in Box B, but ever since Ichabod woke up and Leftenant Mills met Mr. Crane in a jail cell, those boxes have become incredibly muddled and confused. Now, with Abbie working for the FBI, those boxes are really supposed to be clear cut, but there she is, letting Crane break into a house that the FBI are investigating. Witness or FBI agent? Chose wisely, Abbie. And, then, there is Ichabod who is facing a very dangerous foe: the 21st century. As Mr. Crane says, "sometimes it feels like the unbeatable enemy is the 21st century." Ichabod has always been defined as a man out of time and his transition into the 21st century has been a focal narrative point since the start, from exclaiming about the Starbucks on every corner to emojis to romance. At present, Ichabod is staring at a future where he might become fully acculturated to the 21st century, no longer the 18th century man who just happens to find himself in the 21st. But what happens if Ichabod loses those roots he has made in the 21st century? The archives, the job, the mission? Abbie? Losing all of those 21st century touchstones would leave him adrift and it this fear of the unknown, of the future, the constant questioning of what happens next, that leaves Ichabod off his game. Pull it together, Crane! Team Witnesses are stronger than any hurdles the 21st century--or Egyptian deities--can throw at them.

Miscellaneous Notes on The Art of War

--Ichabod nicely sums up the theme of this week's episode thus: "What we do not know may hurt us."

--Berserkers! Gotta love the Norse mythology references.

--Joe's advice to Ichabod about those things Mr. Crane is fearing? "Talk to her." Even Joe gets that Team Witnesses need each other to be complete.

--Did anyone think Sophie was FBI?? I sure as heck didn't. But, along a similar vein, Ichabod calling her "pugnacious" is really his way of saying she's a bitch.

--Awww to Joe and Jenny. Joenny?

--The flashback worked well this week because it was informative to the current plot and did not rely on Betsy Ross and her corseted boobs.

--"The idea of losing you..." Oh dear. The Ichabbie friendship is going to kill me.

--Next week is the fall finale! And, as I'm sure all the readers have heard, Sleepy Hollow is moving to Friday nights in the Spring. This is basically a death sentence for the show. Prepare yourself. The cancellation is probably forthcoming. I'll miss this show. 

In Which I Review Once Upon a Time (5x7)

Here is something readers of my blog may not know: I have a Masters Degree in Comparative Religion, specifically in Early Christianity. I say this not to be a braggart but rather because I want to make something clear; I know what I'm talking about when I discuss Christian history. I spent four years in undergraduate, two years in specialty training in the classics, and two years in my Masters program to say, with absolutely certainty, that Jesus of Nazareth was not a realm jumper. I do not, for a second, believe that Jesus had a spinning top hat--a la Jefferson--and that he could zip from realm to realm, having tea with Cora and falafel with Jafar. Is it possible that Christ, the divine spirit that Christians the world over believe in, could travel to other realms? Sure, if they exist. I mean, why not. Gods will as gods will. But I'm not a theologian; I'm a scholar and again, I can state that Jesus did not travel to different realms! But, putting all that aside to say that, in short, this week's episode "Nimue" finally answered some of the shows biggest questions about the Dark One, the Dagger, and how these various green-scaled beings came into existence. As one would expect, it was because a woman did a stupid thing. Remember what I said about strong women and OUAT last week? Buzzwords, y'all. Buzzwords. Ready for some heavy mythology, a cheap love story, and a lot of Magical McGuffins? Awesome. Let's go! 

Women Always Ruin The World 

Here is something shocking: I am not going to go on a feminist rampage about how egregious it is that Nimue is the sole cause of Darkness being in the world. Pick your jaws up off the floor, y'all. I mean, yes, it is pretty offensive that a woman who watched her life and family vanish before her eyes and only wanted to ease her own suffering and pain is going to be torn down as the reason why there is suffering in the world; why so many people have died and why all our lives suck, but why would I complain about that? Why would I want to point out that, not for the first time, OUAT has shown that women are irrational, emotional, illogical, and never actually listen to good sense (usually coming from a romantic interest and always a man)? Why would I want to spend time and energy to demonstrate bit by bit that, once again, women who are "good" and "pure" are presented as light virgins but women who fall from grace are suddenly cast in dark colors, ugly skin, and as vile seducers, trying to lure the unexpected into their dens of iniquity? Why would I do that? No, instead, I am going to go another route and talk about archetypes (what. Me? Talk about archetypes? Surely you jest!) Specifically, I am going to talk about the archetype that I will call "the first woman."

Now, I rag on OUAT as being fairly paternalistic and condescending in their approach to women (because they are) but, to be fair, it's not as if OUAT invented the idea of paternalism and the juxtaposition between what makes a good woman and a bad woman (for references in media, women are easily divided into three groups: the virgin, the mother, and the seductress. Because that's all women are, you see). No, these views and images of women are old. Insanely old. Biblically old, we might say. For me, the "first woman" archetype really boils down to two easily recognized figures: Eve and Pandora. There are more, to be sure, but those are the ones that everyone really knows. How about a quick refresher course? Eve is straightforward and there is no nuance outside of what you learned in your standard Vacation Bible Program: she of the Garden and the Apple and a vile serpent. Pandora is an interesting one because her story is referenced tonight without actually naming her. Prometheus has an intriguing tie to her: together they are the downfall of mankind. Everyone knows Prometheus stole fire from heaven and everyone knows that Pandora opened a box (jar, really) and let out all the evil contained therein into the world, but did you know that Pandora was sent as a punishment because of Prometheus? I mean, yeah Pandora gets all the blame (and so does Eve) but it was a combined efforts of both man and woman that screwed us all. My point is this; throughout history and mythology there is typically a figure who is "the first woman"--a woman who is beautiful and lovely and a great gift to the world, but somewhere along the way, she allows darkness and evil into the world. I know that OUAT isn't necessarily trying to paint a picture of women as negative (at least not with Nimue, they do that well enough with other characters) but, instead, are playing with some very old tropes and ideas. And while I had thought at one point that OUAT would, instead, subvert those tropes and spin them in a different manner, it turns out that they can't resist millennia old story ideas. The larger issue I have, outside of Jesus the magical realm jumper, is that Merlin eschews any culpability here. He's blameless and innocent. Prometheus stole the fire (even if Zeus was a right git) and Adam ate the fruit, but Merlin was just a guy who was in love and never wanted to live without that love and who tried to battle the darkness (blah blah blah) but lost only because the darkness was stronger. He wasn't strong enough, but it's not as if Merlin wasn't good enough. And that's my problem in this narrative. If OUAT wants to walk the well trodden "first woman" trope then that's unfortunate but ultimately not something that's solely on them. But to make it seem as if there aren't multiple parties and blame to go around isn't fair. Vortigan is the worst kind of plot device, an undeveloped one. He exists literally to to give Nimue impetus. Vortigan is a prop; he has no meaning, no story, no form outside of pushing Nimue into doing the deed of crushing his heart and becoming the first Dark One. He's not too blame because he is just an evil object. What could Merlin have done? Not tell Nimue about the Grail. Not taken Nimue to the holy site. We have choices in the world. Merlin chose wrong, but he shares none of the blame. Woman, the seducer, the one who would not listen, does.

So, I covered the feminism bent to all this, how about the mythology we got? For years, people have been wondering how the Dark One and his curse came to be. Like many other big reveals in the show's history, it felt as though it was made up specifically for this arc and not a long thought out process. Henry's adoption? Given during Pan's storyline to parallel Regina doing anything and everything to save her son. The book and the author? Given during the (now in hindsight totally random) Queens of Darkness story line because, really, the writers wanted to do an alternate universe after exploring time travel the year before. And now we have the Dark One mythology and it's largely because at some point (probably during season 4 and not sooner) the writers decided that the Sorcerer was Merlin and he had helped create the first Dark One. This isn't to say that the story is not, in many ways, good (it was. I know, I'm shocking myself) but rather it feels less organic to the show than I would have hoped. Until season 4, we had never heard of a Sorcerer or even the idea of Excalibur being tied to the Dagger. Sure, you can't lay all your cards out on the table but there are clues that it wasn't always planned, like Blue being the highest in the order of magic in season one, only to slowly tick down as the seasons go on to the point where Merlin (a man!) is suddenly the Ubermensch. But, I'm going in circles, my actual point is this: a lot of this mythology reveal is handwave-y (something about a spark and an ember?) and relies on surprise and gasp worthy moments (shock! Nimue is not dead! Shock! Surprise flashback to moments earlier!) but it does feel mythological, doesn't it? The idea of the first woman and The Sorcerer/Immortal Man going off to try and get around immortality only to have one of them succumb to death and then, in a twisted way, defeat death. I'm not quite sure that I agree with the idea that the Darkness (capital D) existed but, what, was just floating around? Hanging out in space? What was the entity we know now as the Darkness doing? Are we really supposed to believe that Merlin had no darkness in him? I thought we all had darkness in us? Isn't that one of the biggest themes on this show? Okay, I'm starting to talk myself out of liking these parts of the show, but to round this out to a nice even landing, it felt mythological largely because the show was playing with some very old story ideas and while it didn't exactly feel totally organic, it still answered a great many questions about Merlin, the Dark One, and how violent acts are often done because of pain of the heart and not because of simple cruelty. Nimue, the desperate soul who loved her family, set the bar for all the Dark Ones to come.

Miscellaneous Notes on Nimue

--I know I'm passing over quite a lot of plot and narrative that happened elsewhere in this episode but that's because the main focus really was Nimue and Merlin. Also, because Zelena tethering the sword Excalibur to Merlin so that Arthur could control him was simply weird and strange. Who knew Zelena could do that?

--Let's go back to Jesus, the magical realm jumper. I'm not bothered by Christian themes: light versus dark, Savior, temptation, ect. Never have been. I expect those by the bucket load on my shows (really, have you read my Doctor Who blogs??). What I'm bothered by are the very overt Christian symbols and icons that appear in the Enchanted Forest. You know, like the Holy Grail, a chalice said to have been the cup Jesus passed to his disciples during the Last Supper and was later used to catch Jesus's blood as he was on the cross. I have no problem with there being a magical cup in OUAT and, more specifically, in Arthurian mythology, but to call it THE Holy Grail is incredibly problematic because it suggests that Jesus existed in and had the same influence on the Enchanted Forest as he did in our very real world. Christianity is not sui generis; it did not form in a vacuum completely devoid of outside forces and therefore could equally form in another universe. What outside forces you ask? Judaism, for one. Polytheism for another. History between those two forces, for a third. All of that (and so much more) led to the rise of apocalyptic Judaism and, eventually, to a preacher named Jesus (Joshua, really) who roamed around ancient Galilee, trying to tell people that times were ending. This is to say nothing of the apostle Paul who is responsible for Christianity going out to the Gentiles where it really took root (Jewish-Christianity fading away as the city of Jerusalem burned). If any of that--Judaism, Greco-Roman culture, the interaction between the two, and Paul--happened in the Enchanted Forest, then we've never seen it nor heard of it. And, like I keep saying, Jesus was not a realm jumper.

--The timeline is a disaster. So Merlin was in the tree for 1000 years; but he become immortal 1000 years ago. Rumple was the Dark One for at least 250 years, but Nimue became the Dark One 200 years before present day. How...is this even possible?

--The show really doesn't know how to do romance anymore. The relationship between Merlin and Nimue was almost as fast and unexplored as Lance and Gwen. One conversation and suddenly Merlin can easily say that the best moments of his 1000 year life were with Nimue. Great. Maybe you could show some of them so that I find their love believable.

--Hook's a survivor because he spent 250+ years in Neverland hanging out on a ship in a realm where time does not pass. It's not because of some stupid bauble. But no, go ahead. Say it's because of some silly ring. Lemme guess. We're gonna get some sort of backstory to it. Goody.

--Did Arthur just invent acid?

--Zelena kicking Snow was one of the funniest things I've seen on this show in a good long while because good God, Mary Margaret. You are as dumb as a pile of rocks.

--Continuity issues? We heard that the Dark One was created at the Vault (nope) and that Merlin battled the Darkness before tethering it to a human being (not really).

--Creepy men in hoods with glowing eyes are super creepy!

--Emma forged a sword. Now what?

In Which I Review Doctor Who (9x8)

The wheel just keeps on turning. Are you going to be the one to break the cycle? Can you resist the easy answer of war and, instead, come to the table as enemies, trying for a peaceful solution? So much of this week's episode, "The Zygon Inversion," is dedicated to the futility of war and the importance of peace, conversation, and understanding the complexities of situations and peoples. It was also one of Peter Capaldi's best performances to date, but more on that later. Picking up where we left off last week, the Doctor attempts to subvert a war by engaging in a game type scenario. This is definitely not uncommon to science fiction. Star Trek: The Original Series toyed with the idea of war as a computer simulation and game before and, in many ways, war really is just a game with faceless toy soldiers being pushed out on to the field of battle by their overlords where they use strategy and tactic to win and get the upper hand against an enemy, one that, oftentimes, the soldiers don't fully understand why they are fighting. They are simply "the enemy." And when winning is all that matters, the fires and the screams and the dying are worth it because the cause is just. Or so we tell ourselves. Political Doctor Who is always heavy and laden with meaning, and this episode is no different. So: would you push the button? Truth...or consequences.

I covered a lot of these particular themes in last week's review and it's suffice to say that they reappear here once more. The Zygon rebels are fighting a war on two fronts, both against the humans and against the other Zygons, those members of their race who want to stay hidden and un-normalized. In fact, the splinter Zygons are so against their own race that they are willing to expose the others to the humans in hopes of beginning a war. The image of the human-Zygon melting and shifting was hard to stomach because it felt all too real. It's the science fiction version of mustard gas or radiation from an A-bomb. It's the Gaza Strip and Hiroshima. It's ISIS and the Taliban and the armies of the West Congo. I don't want to get on any sort of political soap box or start spewing rhetoric from any side--be it American, feminine, or liberal (all of which I am). Instead, it's important to understand that this is the way fundamentalist splinter cells work. Everyone who is not one of "us" is a "them" and that's wrong (for wont of a better word). Even if the "them" profess the same religions and same cultural values, even if they look the same, speak the same language, have the same ethnic backgrounds, they are 'otherized' to the point where these non splinter groups are not an "us." Often times they are grouped alongside the bigger evil (the greater "Them") as part and parcel. It's this 'otherizing' that is so damning to the human (and Zygon) race. I spoke about this at length last week, but it is our collective failure to see each other as complex beings with complex lives in complex situations that lead to scenarios like war. When you 'otherize' you remove any and all human traits from the Other. You simply make them non-human. They are not people; they are objects and objects have little complexity. Objects can be disposed of, gotten rid of, and removed from the field of battle, or game board as the case may be. And because that--the getting rid of--is the true agenda of these splinter cells, there are no thoughts to what comes after the Revolution. You know, the building anew and starting life afresh? Yeah, that's never on anyone's mind. It's just the Revolution (capital R because revolutions of this magnitude are always talked about in cosmic terms. After all, you--the Saints of the story--are playing against the Devils--the them. How else would such an apocalyptic vision be talked about?) For the Zygons and Bonnie (really, Bonnie?) this stage of "what now" is simple: they've won; they've got a new home world, all is fair and just and life will out. Except that's never how history actually goes.

As long as there are people, there will be conflict. Notice how the Doctor doesn't advocate for a total dissolution of argument and angst. No, he's not naive. He knows--all too well--that whenever people exist together, be it on a small blue marble in the backwaters of the Milky Way galaxy or in the universe at large--conflict will arise. It's the nature of the beast because we have yet to come across any one species that is without want or desire or lust or anger. The Doctor, instead, advocates for the radical idea that we might talk out our problems; to not use violence and escalated button pushing to solve the problems of the world...or universe. What happens when the splinter cell becomes the majority and some new faction feels underprivileged and left out? What will they do? They will take their cues from the previous Revolution, of course. Nobody wins for long. Troublemakers arise, even if you've managed to defeat the bad guys. The Zygons are completely ignorant of that until the Doctor begins to poke holes in their plans. This splinter cell, as it turns out, will be the first ones against the wall when the next Revolution occurs. Speaking of enemies and how they arise, we're back to that idea that good guys exist alongside their nemeses. It's been a theme all season long: friend, enemy. Who can tell anymore? There are no friends and enemies, just people in complex situations with complex history and feelings. It all comes down to whether or not we can meet at a table with those complexities and smooth them over with some honest talk. Now, speaking of honest talk, let's take a second and applaud (like mad) Peter Capaldi's performance this week, especially for that wonderful monologue he delivered to Kate and Bonnie while their fingers hovered over the buttons in the Osgood box. It was one of those rare times when I stopped taking notes and simply watched, spellbound, as an actor really committed to the scene he was doing. His portrayal was full of grief and heartache and loss. Well done, sir!

In the end, it's all a game. The boxes are empty, though telling Kate and Bonnie this upfront would not have brought about a peaceful solution, only the desire to find another violent means to an end. But I have to wonder if the Doctor did the right thing in wiping Kate's memory. He cheekily remarks that this is the 15th time the three of them--Kate, Bonnie, and the Doctor--have done this to-push-or-not-to-push situation. This sly remark and suddenly being in on the joke made the moment far too light when it had been so weighted before. I'm not sure it was the best direction to go in, though letting Bonnie keep her memories, thus breaking the cycle, was a smart move. This episode was perhaps a bit better than last weeks, though I largely think that was due to the heartfelt portrayal by Capaldi and Coleman's chilling Bonnie depiction, especially when having a one-on-one conversation with Clara inside the pod. Political theater will always have a place in Doctor Who (and science fiction at large, if we're being honest).  It would be nice if our real world situations had such an easy solution, wouldn't it? But, I think, that is the great lesson to these two episodes of Doctor Who: there is an easy solution. Talk. Converse. Share. Emote. Do not cower behind bombs and bullets and nukes. Come. Sit and the table. And talk.

Miscellaneous Notes on The Zygon Inversion 

--The adventures of Doctor Puntastic and Bonnie sounds like a new spinoff at the BBC.

--"I'm over 2000 years old. I'm old enough to be your Messiah!" Oh, Doctor Who. You stay self-aware, you wonderful little show.

--The Zygons would rather "die in the fire than live in chains." That could be the motto of any splinter cell the world over.

--I'm glad Osgood turned down the Doctor. She might be the perfect companion (as all the mega fans would be) but she has her own task ahead of her. She can't go poncing off to see all of time and space in the Totally and Radically Driving in Space.

--How will Moffat write Clara out? We keep having fake-outs of her death so I'd find it hard to believe they'd kill her for good. 

--The only way to live in peace is to forgive.

In Which I Review Sleepy Hollow (3x6)

Women are dangerous; or, at least, that is the main thrust of this week's episode "The Red Lady From Caribee." Whether it's a bug spirit from Trinidad who infects you with literal fear and paranoia or it's a mystery lady who seems intent on taking down God's chosen Witnesses or even if it's just the gal you're taking out on a first date, women can be totally scary. I have to be somewhat honest here; Sleepy Hollow was feeling a little more than directionless before this episode. Filler or bridge episodes are perfectly fine when the rest of the episodes are trying to set the story down its straight and narrow path, but while each episode of Sleepy Hollow has the same beats and pattern, we are getting nowhere fast. I find myself asking more and more often what Pandora's endgame is with little result at the end of each episode. Even when the show did the big crossover last week, it was essentially the same pattern: Pandora sends a monster; we learn a bit of mythology; Witnesses defeat monster, and Pandora is inexplicably unbothered by the plans that never succeed. So, hey, isn't it nice that the show decided to push their narrative to the next level! The first 45 minutes were set up like past episodes (see the above pattern) but the last 10 minutes opened up the story (or tree) and pushed us into the next phase: Pandora's part one of her plan is completed, it's time to "Bear Witness" to the fruits of her labor. Watch out for wasp stings and let's go!

I have to hand it to Sleepy Hollow; it takes both guts and writing chops to have your thesis of an episode be that women are dangerous, scary, and just as villainous as men all while you build sympathetic characters out of them. Zoe, for example, is only scary to Ichabod. She's not a villain; she's not out to ruin his life or disrupt his mission to fight evil (she, of course, knows nothing about that). Zoe just wants to go for some Hibachi and wine and get to know Ichabod, a guy who is quirky, sexy, funny, sweet and, yes, a little socially awkward. But through the eyes of Ichabod, Zoe is part of uncharted territory. She's new. Too new. Too modern and the times are not a'changing but rather changed long ago while Ichabod slumbered. And, really, I think the true fear here is that Ichabod has never felt more out of time than when he's trying to transverse the dating world. Starbucks on every corner? Manageable. Having a nice meal with a pretty lady? Terrifying. Zoe isn't the only one who makes Ichabod quake, though. As our villain of the week, we have the titular Red Lady who is really a giant wasp that stings you and turns you into a paranoid and terrified mess. Good times. But really, the main scary ladies are Pandora and the Sisters Mills. First, Pandora continues to be a worthwhile villain with her cold demeanor and deeply laid plans. It's not romantic with Ichabod in any sense but there is a sort of flirty quality to Pandora and Ichabod interaction this week. They could probably go several rounds bickering and it would be both intensely scary and intensely hot. Pandora does not appear to have any fear of Ichabod; she's self assured and self confident in her plan--whatever it may be. After all, Pandora expertly played Ichabod and Abbie by simply letting them do their job. All she needed them to do was be Witnesses and well...Witnesses Represent. That's the real fear with Pandora; even when Team Witnesses were trying to stop her, they actually brought her plan to fruition. Finally, we have the Sisters Mills, both of whom scare their romantic interests (much like Zoe with Ichabod) and one sister who should be scaring everyone with her change of fate.

What's going on with Abbie and Daniel? If I didn't know better (and to be honest, I don't know, I'm just reading the scenes between the two as romantic) I would say that the constant beating around the bush and never stating outright that Abbie and Daniel were a couple was deliberate. Think about it. Every scene between the two about how they pushed each other and were there for each other is incredibly vague, as if there is some secret; the writers want us to think A but really they are going for B. I do believe that Daniel and Abbie were romantic (if only because that's how TV narrative works when the single leading lady suddenly has an old male friend with whom she was recently parted come to town) but for Daniel, Abbie's decision to move on and just push past what happened at Quanitco is scary because he can't move past it. Abbie, the woman who moves with time, and Daniel, the man who feels out of time and doesn't enjoy it. Sounds somewhat familiar, no? I don't know where Abbie and Daniel are headed, narratively speaking, and to be honest it's not something I'm interested in, at least not overly. What makes Abbie shine is that her story arc has nothing to do with romance. Yes, she and Ichabod have undeniable chemistry and there is some desire to see them be more than best friends, but she is not defined by wanting a romantic relationship. Her concerns are Sleepy Hollow, Jenny, and her co-Witness. Abbie Mills ain't got time for a man; she's busy saving the world! And then there's Jenny who, like Abbie, does not have time for a man (in the form of Joe Corbin, with whom some sparks were finally flying this week) but now I don't think she's going to even have a choice of exploring it. I have zero idea what happened with Jenny at the end of this week's episode, but her fate just changed and if I had to guess, I'd say that it's for the worse. You don't start seeing skulls and have glowing green eyes for the betterment of mankind. As the prophet said, Jenny will be claimed and we can go ahead and lay down some money that the claimer will not be holding a bouquet of flowers. With Pandora vanishing into a tree (what is with my shows and their mythic trees?) I have to wonder if Jenny and Pandora are about to team up as an unstoppable force for evil against Ichabod and Abbie. Phase one: complete. Phase two: coming soon!

Miscellaneous Notes on The Red Lady From Caribee

--Ichabod with a fruity drink and pink umbrella. How cute is he!

--I'm glad Ichabod and Zoe got a proper date that fits his and her aesthetics and did not try to be more than either of them are.

--I will refrain from spewing more negativity against Betsy Ross except to say that, once again, her insertion into this story was utterly pointless. Why couldn't Grace Dixon heal George Washington without Betsy being there to say a few lines while flashing her corseted boobs?

--I want a tree that grows earrings!

--Some truly lovely stills of Ichabod's face this week. Tom Mison continues to be one of the best things about this show. 

--Pandora went into the tree. If she comes out as Merlin, I'm done.

In Which I Review Once Upon a Time (5x6)

Here's a question for all my readers: do you, in all honesty, care about Once Upon a Time's Merida? I don't mean the Disney/Pixar Princess; in fact, just forget that pixelated red haired girl. I mean the live action character on your screens this Sunday: do you care about her? Or are you projecting your care for the aforementioned pixelated character on to this woman? Because this week's episode "The Bear and the Bow" was all about Merida--her problems, her character, her family, and her claim to the throne--and I honestly couldn't be bothered. Merida is one character that needed to be left alone, or at least not make her way over to OUAT. Merida, the young headstrong girl who refused romantic entanglement because she wanted to be who she was, would only be mangled from that positive role model to this aged up, hit-first-ask-questions-later kidnapper on OUAT. And, shockingly enough, that's what happened! Who needs character motivation or well thought out character progression when you can rely on people's fond memories of a Disney/Pixar movie? Because Merida only shows up sporadically, and with only hefty information dumps and overly loud bagpipes a'playing (because she's Scottish, y'all), we never get the chance to get to know her, not properly. So why care? OUAT managed to rob Merida, and the movie 'Brave,' of all its heart and spirit and message. This week's episode was much like other Belle centric episodes: dull, lackluster, frustrating, and causing the narrative (if that's what we want to call this season so far) to grind to a standstill. Get ready to face a giant bear and let's go!

Always Bring A Book To A Fight  

The opening scene to this week's episode feels like the set up to a really bizarre and decidedly unfunny joke. Prince Charming, Captain Hook, Merlin and Google--sorry, Belle-- walk into a jail cell. Why is Belle there to begin with? Why is she carrying a book? Why does anything think that bringing Belle--and her Google-powered iPad--along to rescue Lancelot is a good idea? This is one of the biggest (I know I say that a lot, but it really is) problems on Once Upon a Time: this total disregard for logic and explaining situations. We, as an audience, are not inside the writers heads. I do not know what their thought process was (and even if I did know at one point, it has since been utterly transformed, probably by a magical mcguffin) when they rationalized that Belle going into that jail cell was a good idea. I am just expected to buy into the idea that Charming, Merlin, and the pirate would take Belle along to a scuffle, fight, violent encounter, or any other synonym that involves fisticuffs. This wasn't the only instance of hand waving away questions of logic and problems with writing in this episode. Merida kidnaps Belle because she needs magic to rescue her triplet brothers. Okay, in some regards that makes perfect sense and I can see why Merida--who has had encounters with magic in the past--would think that magic is going to solve her problems. To be fair, it's how her Disney/Pixar character operated. But the issue here is that at no point did Merida see or hear that Belle has magic. Literally, all Belle did was point to something in her Google Operated iPad and Merlin did the magic on Lancelot's cell bars. Belle was....a book stand. Yes, that's what she was. She held a book and played a poor man's version of Siri while Merlin, the most accomplished wizard in the history of the Onceiverse, waved his hands. Logically, Merida should try to kidnap Merlin. Or even Emma if the Scottish red head was feeling particularly feisty and fresh, but no--she goes with the non-obvious, illogical solution of Belle. Finally, one more instance (that I'll talk about) in which logic is brushed aside and the writers simply tell us, "worry not about this!" Emma finally figures out that Merlin was the creepy usher in the movie theater when she was but a wee lass. Like the audience has been doing all season, she questions how Merlin was there since he was stuck inside a tree photosynthesizing for several millennia. Merlin, I kid you not, looks at Emma and tells her it doesn't matter how, what matters, instead, is what he told her (do not do the thing, young Skywalker!) On a show that can make up magical handwaving excuses faster than you can save Magical Plot Device, Merlin dismisses a major seasonal question with a condescending and patronizing answer and we are expected to swallow it, lock, stock and barrel. Nope, sorry. That's not how I roll. This is one case when the writers could have simply said "magic" and it would have been keeping in line with how powerful we're told Merlin is. Instead...we got the equivalent of a pat on the head and sent outside to play with our toys like good children.

So how was the BraveBeauty adventure? Dull, exposition dump heavy and full of rather insulting stereotypes. In other words, the same as her adventure with Mulan in Season 2 and her adventure with Anna in Season 4. First, the Scottish highlands are in the Enchanted Forest and just a quick boat ride from Camelot! How fortunate! This is a larger issue with OUAT that, to be fair, I've had for a few years and not just since the bloom went off the rose. Inserting legends that do not take place in some sort of fairy tale kingdom, or imagined alternative fantastical landscape, is hard. It's why Mulan's insertion back in season two felt awkward because how do you properly insert China into another realm? How can anything like China--the historical China that birthed the legend of Mulan--exist in another world. Mulan, and legends like Merida and even Arthur and his band of knights, belong to historical times that are born from events, circumstances, and other eras of days gone by. If the writers were to somehow explain that there is a common link between the stories in our world and the fictionalized Enchanted Forest and that, somehow, stories from the Enchanted Forest found their way to our world, then maybe I could suspend my disbelief and accept that the Scottish highlands and China are in the Enchanted Forest. The same goes for answering how on earth our world knows about Snow and Charming (and all your other favorite Disney movies) but got the stories wildly wrong. Sadly, this is another instance of the writers writing what comes to them in the moment or arc instead of using any sort of logic or well thought out worldbuilding. In that same vein, the Scottish highlands of the Enchanted Forest appropriated a lot of traditional Scottish motifs but rendered them as cliche instead of nuanced. I'm a big fan of Outlander and that's a show/book that respects culture and tries to portray it as accurately and respectfully as possible. OUAT's Scottish culture was just trying to recreate the Disney movie down to the guy with the poofy white hair. It doesn't work here because it doesn't feel genuine; it feels like a parody. I almost expected Merida to yell "you may take my lands, but you'll never take my FREEEEDOOOOM" a la Mel Gibson in 'Braveheart." Poor Belle. Whenever the writers remember that she exists and decide to send her on a girl power adventure, it never develops into anything positive.

UnBEARable 

Meanwhile, back in Storybrooke, the character formerly known as Rumple limps around, saying and doing stupid things that make me want to break his other leg. But first, before I go down that particular rabbit hole, let's stop by the so called heroes of Storybrooke and hear what they have to say about Rumple's fate. Oh, they don't care about Mr. Gold/Rumple/The Crocodile. If Rumple dies, then that's his own fault because he had many opportunities to turn into a hero. But these so called heroes absolutely have to save Emma Swan because she's innocent and the darkness simply has a hold on her but through their hard work, perseverance and determination (and love!) they can save the Swan! Hip hip huzzah. You flipping hypocrites! The darkness has been canonically established to be a sentient entity that can corrupt even a SAVIOR. What does that mean? It means that Rumple was just as much under the influence of that darkness as Blessed Emma Swan. So it means you should try to save BOTH. Because they BOTH matter and are family! COME ON. Remember when Rumple sacrificed himself for his one true love and his son? For the town? He is worth fighting for, just like Emma. This conversation was downright insulting to Rumple and to the characters themselves. Not even Regina would stick up for him; Regina who has a very complex relationship with her former master, father figure, enemy? Tell me, Snow and Charming, how many times has Rumple helped you and your family out in Storybrooke? How many times has he stopped whatever he was doing to help you with your various dramas because the two of you couldn't collectively figure your way out of a paper bag? Rumple's heart was literally being turned black by the same Darkness that is now infesting your daughter, but he's not worth saving because he couldn't fight it anymore than she could. I simply cannot with this level of hypocrisy from an Evil Queen, a Pirate and two Baby Snatchers! It was because of this that when Rumple and Belle were about to drive over the town line, I found myself yelling, "go! go! be free!" The other characters in the show will never afford Rumple an ounce of sympathy or compassion and only see him as the Dark One, never mind that his actions (while dark) were rooted in something totally human and understandable (finding his son). We still have no idea why Emma's doing what she's doing (brooding long and hard over a sword, removing everyone's memories, and ripping out little girl's hearts) but at least Rumple's motivation behind his sinister nature was compelling. Okay, I had to get that off my chest. Now, on to the Imp himself and some egregious character assassination.

Back in season two, when we finally saw how Rumple came by his famous limp, it was a story full of heroism and cowardice. A father returning home and a soldier fleeing the perils of war. It was this delicate balance of heroism and cowardice that really defined Rumple. He wanted to be brave but didn't know how so he found courage in trying to be a good father, even if it meant he was labeled a coward by everyone he knew. For Rumple, it was better to be a coward than to abandon his child. It worked on a really well thought out level when you remember that Rumple would later abandon Bae, but that, in turn, Rumple had been abandoned by Malcolm. It was a lovely circular story about the cycle of abuse and abandonment. However, in this week's episode, the writers decided to screw the pooch (bear?) and remove any and all complexity behind Rumple's character by simplifying it to the most base terms ever: Rumple is a coward, plain and simple. As Rumple tells Belle during their fight at the town line, he only injured himself because he was scared. That's it. Just scared. Nothing about manipulation from a seer, nothing about the fact that he was going to die and leave his child alone, nothing about how he "did it all for the boy!" Rumple is just a coward, guys. Malarkey. Absolute malarkey. And to make matters worse, it doesn't even fit with what was said last episode! Remember last week when Rumple talked about how he did everything for his boy? This show can’t even stay consistent from week to week, let alone arc to arc! Why should I continue to be invested in this show and its characters when they can't even be written consistently? Everything changes depending on what the plot calls for and who is writing the script of the week, which means that the characters comes across as disingenuous and poorly developed. Next week, Rumple will be back to explaining how everything was for Nealfire! But, hey. Rumple fought a bear by making it swallow a small bag (no, seriously, what was that??) and then magically pulled a sword from the stone, so there's that!

Miscellaneous Notes on The Bear and the Bow

--Very few one-liners this week, but I did enjoy Zelena's "was that a kick my little Munchkin?" I may loathe her, but Zelena does know how to be wickedly entertaining.

--Rumple shattered Chip. Back when Chip broke in season 2, it was heartbreaking because it was done in the heat of the moment after Amnesia! Belle and Rumple had been through an emotional roller coaster. This week it just felt silly and stupid and eye-roll worthy. Yes, I get it. Belle is going to save him!

--The CGI for the bear was okay. Much better than Mal's dragon back in season 4, at the very least.

--So, wait. Is Nimue not the First Dark One? Is she still alive? Why can she help? Merlin's voicemail was interesting.

--Merlin is seriously cute.

--Hook is back to calling Rumple the Crocodile and not caring if said amphibian dies. Two episodes ago, Hook was giving Emma some sort of sob story about how he (Hook) was the villain in the Rumple/Hook story of Season Two. Consistency. What are you?

--The return of the magical mushroom, which apparently can't be burned. There's a drug joke in here somewhere. 

--"You turned me into a hero." No, Rumple, Belle did. Did you not watch your own episode? But now that Rumple has pulled the sword from the stone, what can he possibly do against the Dark One?