1x02 The Clock

[7.7/10] Life is hard for the Jennings. Maybe that’s an obvious statement. They have to maintain two lives, that cannot cross pollinate, while also taking on other temporary personas to do their job and constantly risking discovery that could completely upend their lives. That’s the sort of tension and excitement that makes the show’s premise compelling: the threat of their cover being blown and the stakes that come from the way that doesn't just threaten them, but threatens the domestic life they’ve carved for themselves in a D.C. suburb.

But the biggest threat is that it will take them away from their kids, or their kids away from them. In keeping with the pilot, “The Clock” presents a version of Elizabeth who isn’t one to question orders, no matter how unreasonably, because it’s the mission, and a version of Phillip who is incredulous, who wants to demur and thinks the risks are outrageous.

In the end, once again, they move a little closer to one another’s position. Philip has to do most of the dirty work here. The main operation of the day is strong arming Viola, the maid of the U.S. Secretary of Defense, Caspar Weinberger, so that she’ll nab and replace an electrical clock, which will allow the KGB to listen in on a conversation between him and his British counterpart. With only three days to cultivate her as an asset, that means the Jennings conspire to poison Viola’s son, warning her that he’ll be dead in three days if he doesn't get the antidote, and promising that they’ll administer it if she cooperates.

It’s tense, ugly work, requiring Philip to get in a knock down, drag out fight with Viola’s burly brother, to get rough with Viola herself, and even to smother her son in a particularly fraught moment. For someone who seemed reluctant to use such methods, to risk or inflict death, on people who haven’t earned it in the prior episode, he has to be the muscle in this one, and it’s not pleasant.

But it’s the initially gungho Elizabeth who bears the brunt of the pain and worry in this one. She sees her daughter, Paige, entering a precarious and difficult time in her life, and worries about what it would be like for Paige if her parents, her mother in particular, isn’t there to help guide her through it. Elizabeth worries about what it would be like to miss those formative experiences together, so she rushes one of them.

Paige lets her mom pierce her ears, after Elizabeth wakes her up in the middle of the night and suggests it. It’s a sweet moment between mother and daughter, and a sign of the sort of family life that the Jennings put up as collateral every time they take one these dangerous missions, everytime the KGB treats them like assets and not people. This is not just work that could threaten their lives; it’s work that could take away their family.

And that’s contrasted with Stan Beeman’s life, where his work is far easier, but he seems to envy or at least lack the sense of camaraderie and the type of family life that the Jennings has. As part of the cat and mouse game of the series, he too is cultivating assets to spy on the other side of the cold war. But his efforts are not nearly so life and death.

Instead, they involve roughing up a local pawn shop owner who has an arrangement with a KGB secretary, smothering him with his own merchandise, and stealing his caviar. There’s none of the precision or reluctance of the Jennings version of the same kind of thing. The Jennings’ operation is mostly a mental one -- trying to convince Viola that this is the only way and that it’s a simple task for her to do.

Stan’s whole M.O. is to take advantage of the situation. To nick the guy’s caviar, to resort to intimidation tactics and fisticuffs as a first resort, not a last one. He’s eager to take credit when the President’s Chief of Staff calls to congratulate. And yet he comes home to an empty house, with no one to share his purloined caviar with, because his family’s off without him.

So he invites Philip over, and they have it with corn chips and wash it down with cheap beer. Stan wants this because he knows it’s supposed to be valuable, but not because he can truly appreciate it. There too, lies a contrast. When Philip gets a hold of his own tin of the stuff, he presents it elegantly for his wife, and they savor the first bite. These are two sets of spies, engaged in the same type of work, but doing it and living it very differently.

“The Clock” touches on other aspects of these operations and the lives impacted by them. We see that Philip is involved with an asset named Annelise who seems to genuinely love him and want to run away with him. And we see the Jennings lament that Viola is a religious woman, reckoning that people who believe strongly in a higher power are harder to control.

And while these are two pretty different storylines in the episode, there’s a common thread to them. The spy business is one that only works when people are dependable, when you can know your assets and allies and trust that you can rely on them to act predictably when you need to. Strong feelings, whether in the form of romantic love or faith, get in the way of that, just as “The Clock” hints that familial love is starting to do the same in the Jennings’ life.

So Phillip doesn't relent from smothering Viola’s son until she “swears to god” that she’ll do the deed. And he seems to worry about Annelise, that she knows this isn’t real but could do something dangerous, or at least unpredictable, if he doesn't dote on her the way she wants.

It is a dangerous business, one where the slightest unpredictable element: a religious mother, an impatient paramour, a lonely neighbor, or just parents who want to live to see their kids grow up, can help determine the fate of the conflict between the world’s two superpowers.