Again a more or less cheesy episode. The synopsis for this episode gives that away already but I was pleasantly suprised that it didn't turn out to be as cringeworthy as it sounds, although, to be fair, the "acting scene" on set was cringeworthy.
I love self-irony and hoped this episode would be self-ironic and it definitely was.
Malcolm Goodwin's (Babineaux) deliverance of his line to a TWD-styled zombie extra of the show Zombie High, who said: "You know what would be fun? A zombie show where the zombie is the star." was absolutely on point and hilarious.
Just like his remark about zombies and how they affect him. Foreshadowing much?
Finally they realized that they were after Blaine, took them a while but since this is a show where the zombie is the star I can live with that. Additionally, I am glad that Clive and Liv could work their differences out quickly. Without them working together something's missing. Overall a weaker episode but as a critic once wrote even in its weaker episodes iZombie delivers (paraphrased).
Sadly it seems like The CW postponed the next episode to the 2nd Feb. Oh, well, I guess (and hope) that explains why the backorder was 6 to 19 episodes in total instead of 9 to 22 or so for season 2 because they needed the timeslot.
[7.2/10] Nothing, or at least nothing much, in Rebels Season 3 finale is bad. Thrawn’s ground assault on Attalon has moments of excitement, Ezra reconnecting with Sabine is cool, and while I have my issues with it, the wrath of Bendu creates an interesting enough wildcard in this otherwise one-on-one fight.
But there are a few problems at play. The first is that it never feels like much is at stake here. Attalon falling should be a big deal. The Rebel attack failing to even get off the ground should be a big deal. Instead, my reaction was ultimately pretty ho-hum.
Part of that has to do with what we know about who has to make it out of here alive. We know that Hera does; we know that General Dodanna does, we know that Chopper does, and the rules of television suggest that Ezra will make it out alive as well. That immediately lowers the stakes for Thrawn’s invasion, because we know that sooner or later the good guys will make it out of this jam.
Now that is a fact of life when you’re talking about an ongoing series like this, particularly one meant to kid-friendly. And I’m not arguing that major characters necessarily have to die in order for a finale to have meaning. But Sabine puts it best when she makes her pitch for helping to her mother -- that this group of Rebels always does the impossible. There is a sense of inevitability to all of this, to the fact that our heroes will make it out okay and fight another day. Maybe for a split second, you think the series could go Empire Strikes Back and commit to something more down or harrowing like Phoenix squadron ending up as Thrawn’s prisoners, but otherwise it becomes pretty clear that Ezra and company will prevail, or at least escape, and there’s little excitement in that when it feels like a foregone conclusion.
The other side of the coin is that Rebels has faced this before and come out okay by substituting plot-based stake for character stakes. When the story isn’t who wins or who loses, but how the journeys affect the characters at the center of them -- whether it’s Ezra’s questions about the Dark Side or Hera’s conflict with her father or Sabine’s struggles with her family and legacy -- you can overcome obstacles like necessary plot armor and known futures. “Zero Hour” is mostly devoid of that. The goal is just to survive, and despite some lipservice paid in a scene between Kanan and Ezra at the end of the episode, there’s not much development or attention devoted to building the characters through these events.
I also don’t know how I feel about Bendu as the force that, inadvertently or not, allows the Rebels to escape. It’s not like he hasn’t been set up as a force to be reckoned with before, but the show has played so coy with him, and he’s still so ensconced in doublespeak, that his rage storm seems like a weird development from the character. It’s not quite deus ex machina, but it does feel like a convenient way for our heroes to make it out of dodge in time. I appreciate the symbolism that as cold and tactical as Thrawn is, there’s things beyond his comprehension or understanding like Bendu that make him fail, or at least not fully succeed, but it’s an undercooked point delivered with cheesy laughs and typical angry god boasts.
Still, the progression of events themselves work just fine. Again, we have a clear goal with Ezra and Sabine taking out the interdictor so that the fleet can escape. Zeb and Rex working together to take down assorted walkers has hints of Ep. V, and the old warriors make for a fun pair. And as much as I find Bendu’s role here questionable, the image of his glowing eyes in the storm is a cool one.
Again, there’s nothing exactly wrong with the finale. It doesn’t necessarily bother me that everyone survives (though Kallus’s escape route is semi-improbable). There just wasn’t any oomph to it. The set dressing is there, with big explosions and perfectly acceptable plot obstacles, but there was no deeper meaning, no real character stakes, nothing that made this event much more than a collection of cool set pieces. It would take a lot to live up to last season’s amazing finale, but like Thrawn’s attack, as solid as this episode was, it didn’t even come close to greatness.
[7.3/10] While I appreciate Rebels getting to its endgame after a great deal of setup this season, the epic conclusion didn’t exactly blow me away. It’s nice to see Thrawn actually executing his plan -- confronting Kallus, locating the rebels, etc. -- but there was just something underwhelming after all the build.
I did appreciate a couple of things about this one. First and foremost, I like that there was a clear goal here. It wasn’t just a space battle for space battling stake -- there was strategy and planning. For the rebels in particular, the major objective was to get Ezra past the blockade so that he could go get reinforcements. It’s a straightforward enough plan, but it drives the rest of the efforts.
I also liked the poetry of Commander Sato’s sacrifice. There is some obvious, but still good symbolism in the contrast between the Rebel leaders and the potentates of the Empire. Sato is able to make it possible for his side to get out of this alive by sacrificing himself in the name of the greater good, while Konstantine not only meets his own end, but scuttles Thrawn’s plans by striking out for personal glory. It’s the difference between the two sides in one tremendous gesture, and it’s the strongest part of the episode.
The problem is that the rest of the episode is perfectly fine, but just a bit uninspired for a grand finale. Ezra and Kanan’s conversation about what’s been achieved for the rebels is clunky and not as meaningful as it needs to be. Kanan raising Bendu’s ire is kind of cool in the moment with Tom Baker’s stentorian tones, but gets to be too much. And Thrawn’s monologuing and taunting goes a bit too far as well.
The space battles are cool, if a bit static at some point, with cool explosions and other action. And this does have the feeling of a dry run for the rebel battle in A New Hope, but there’s just something missing here, something that should put this episode over the top and yet makes it feel a bit lacking.
[8.7/10] The natural inclination in an episode like this is to go big, to make it loud and exciting and epic. It is the Original Trilogy meeting the Prequel Trilogy meeting Rebels, and so the powers that be could be forgiven for turning that encounter into an epic confrontation, full of fireworks and piss and vinegar.
Instead, “Twin Suns” is a quiet, deliberate, almost melancholy episode. That is a bold choice, one that pays off for Rebels and delivers one of its most meditative, understated episodes in a way that does justice to the various major figures it invokes in the effort.
It opens on the holy site of Star Wars, the deserts of Tatooine. There in the swirling sands, Darth Maul wanders the arid wasteland, searching in vain for his mortal enemy. “Twin Suns” commits to the desolation of the planet. Many times, it frames its character in wide shots, often at a distance, showing how small and insignificant they are on that vast landscape between those dual radiating stars. While there are moments of action, most of the time is spent with the characters wandering through those miles of nothing, contemplating what’s calling them there.
Of course, it’s not enough to just have Maul stalking the specter of Obi Wan, so Ezra Bridger feels the call to Tatooine as well. The reasons for his being there are thin, but adequate. He is, essentially, bait. Maul uses the same visions and hallucinations to draw Ezra to the desert planet so as to put him in danger. If Obi Wan is there, Maul reasons, he’ll be unable to stop himself from emerging to save the day.
So foolhardy Ezra heeds the call, follows the visions, and gets both Chopper and himself lost and desperate amid the sands of Tatooine. Despite the half-plausible excuse, Ezra doesn’t have much of a place in this story. It gives the character a bit of nice material, with deliberately disorienting edits creating his sense of being at a loss and in peril as the amount of time he spends out there remains unclear. But on the whole, his arc, to the extent it exists, is merely a familiar epiphany that he’s turned his back on his newfound family and should return to them rather than taking things on his own.
But it’s the man who offers him that advice who matters. Rebels realizes the Ep. IV-era Obi Wan Kenobi well. The franchise has yet to address the awkward business of bridging the gap between the Ewan McGregor/James Arnold Taylor incarnation of the character, and the version that started it all. But Stephen Stanton (who also voices Tarkin and AP-5), does his best Alec Guiness and it scans as true to one of Star Wars’s founding performances.
The Obi Wan Ezra meets in the desert is of a piece with one Luke meets in A New Hope. The years have blunted the edges of the reserved but adventurous man who fought in the clone wars. In his place is this wise old monk, one who has the zen and worldly perspective that Guiness and George Lucas imbued in the role. Rebels attempts to revive characters who’ve gone unseen since Return of the Jedi have been hit or miss, but kudos belong to Stanton and writers Dave Filoni and Henry Gilroy for capturing the spirit and demeanor of the character we know from Star Wars’s first act.
It’s not, however, inter-generational crossovers and desert-worn wisdom. Obi Wan’s time with Ezra is mercifully short, just enough to give him the lesson he needs and send him on his way before Maul arrives. Maul explains his manipulation in a suitably villainous fashion, and trades insults with Obi Wan as he gears up for a confrontation greatly hyped and long in the making.
When Obi Wan faces Maul, the scene is tense. Maul is inquisitive, probing, challenging his wizened adversary. He sniffs out why Kenobi is on this backwater planet, and the Jedi Master’s eyes subtly react with concern and awareness of what he’s revealed. Only then does Obi Wan ready himself to fight. The two men hold the tension, stand their ground, letting the potential of this grand clash linger in the air before the first, tremendous blow is struck.
Instead, it simply ends before it barely began. A few swift moves is all Obi Wan needs to fell his opponent. He moves slowly but decisively. Anything more would be a betrayal of the warrior we saw in Episode IV. There is mercy in his blade and in the way he cradles Maul in his arms after the deed is done.
But the purpose of that anticlimax is not simply fidelity to the source that began it all. It is a reveal, a demonstration, that these are not the fiery young men who clashed on Naboo. They are not the hardened warriors who met in battle on Mandalore. They are broken down old men, the last of a generation, finishing the last vestiges of conflicts that were already lost before they’d even started.
These are the last gunfighters, drawing one last time, because what else is there to do? As Maul seemingly dies in Obi Wan’s arms, he asks Kenobi if his task is to protect the chosen one. Obi Wan admits it, and Maul says the most curious, revealing words as he leaves the living force – “He will avenge us.”
Maul and Kenobi have stood on opposite sides of the battle lines for decades. They have seen the fall of republics and the rise of empires. They have done this dance across the ages, each taking pounds of flesh from the other. And yet, when the final blow is struck, the clarity of the last light reveals a simple truth. They are both victims of the same tormentor, the same individual who took away all that they had and believed in.
As Star Wars has gone on, it has evolved, showing more shades of gray within the hero’s journey that started with A New Hope. Before that little boy running across the horizon could rise up and strike down the evil that took so much from so many, too many had to suffer, both the good and the bad. The distance between the two seems as small as the distance between Maul and Kenobi. They are the twin suns, intertwined, eternally circling ‘round these same events, pulled by the same force, until they are snuffed out, ready for a new light, a new beacon, to sweep the galaxy, and wipe away their shared regrets, mistakes, and pain.
8.8/10. Lightsabers are one of those holy artifacts in the Star Wars universe, the kind that are specific to the Jedi and signify their oneness with the force. So it was always a little odd, albeit cool, that when Jedi would run into Mandalorean baddies, they would have this darksaber that seemed to allow them to go to toe-to-toe with the Jedi. “Trials of the Darksaber” rectifies that, making the darksaber an even holier object by making it one of a kind and, through an impressive if brief art shift, establishing it as a holy object for the Mandaloreans as well. It is the only such lightsaber, created by the first Mandalorean Jedi master, taken from the Jedi after his death, and passed down to storied leaders from the Vizla clan through the ages.
It’s a pretty big deal for the first and only black lightsaber in Star Wars. (As an aside, I am an old man who remembers when there were only blue, green, and red lightsabers. Now we have purple, yellow, black, and white. I think that just leaves orange and indago before we complete the Roy G. Biv lightsaber rainbow.) But more importantly, it makes the darksaber something more than just a cool new toy for Sabine to play with; it makes it a symbol of the birthright she’s rejected and the pressure of being both a Mandalorean and a Rebel.
That’s what I liked the most about “Darksaber Trial” – that it used something cool, flashy, and toyetic to expand the lore, provide character backstory, and most of all, develop one of its more underserved characters a little better. Getting more insight into the history of the darksaber and the Mandalorean mythos is cool; finally getting to know why Sabine left Mandalore is interesting, if a little trite, and getting insight into what’s driving her is a vital part of making her a more well-rounded and motivated character.
What gets the episode extra points is how well it uses Kanan and Hera on top of that main story. It’s not a high bar, but the pair have quickly become the best (pseudo) married couple in all of Star Wars, seeming like mature and caring partners who have their differences but know how to get through to one another. That gives the episode added weight and dimension too.
One of the recurring threads in Rebels has been Kanan’s insecurities about being a teacher. Despite the air of authority he puts on when in teacher mode, Kanan himself has admitted that he’s unsure of himself, inexperienced and not positive how to do this. So the fact that he is hard on Sabine, starting her off very slow and not giving her a chance to go big and commit to learning the darksaber works to show his reluctance and myopia as an instructor.
The episode does a nice job at suggesting that there is something uniquely Mandalorean about Sabine and about the darksaber, and that means that Kanan is trying to fit a square peg in a round hole by trying to be slavish in teaching her the Jedi methods of lightsaber wielding. There is a hesitance from him here, a bias even (with a nice but subtle subtext of gender bias in the comments about how he didn’t treat Ezra this way) in how he will not let Sabine test her limits because he doesn’t trust her uniquely Mandalorean nature.
That leads to two of the nicer elements of the episode. The first, and another toyetic element given weight, is how Fenn Rau gives Sabine Mandalorean vambraces that help her to replicate Jedi powers like a force push or a force grab in uniquely Mandalorean way. These make the difference, and lend toward the recognition that Sabine has to forge her own path, one that is not purely dictated by her Mandalorean history, but also not dictated by Jedi tradition either. She finds a healthy middle between the two, matching Mandalorean ingenuity with Jedi principles of the blade as extension of self.
And second, it dovetails nicely into Sabine’s epiphany that she can honor both her old family, the one that rejected her on Mandalore, and the new one, who bow down to her and say that they would follow her lead. That’s where Hera comes in. I love the fact that Rebels remembered its history here, invoking that Hera is uniquely position to know what it’s like to feel spurned by your own parents to give her insight and empathy for what Sabine’s going through that makes the difference. Her being the one to convince Kanan to change his tactics is a great choice, that builds on what we know about Hera and the pair’s relationship.
That change in tactics leads to a thrilling action sequence, made all the more notable by the fact that it is, essentially, a very intense sparring session. The cinematography and art direction are both superb, with the evening sky and the desert setting creating the right mood for the heightened moment where Sabine uses the darksaber for the first time and Kanan pushes her to confront her conflicted emotions about it. Much credit also goes to the perpetually underappreciated Kevin Kiner, whose score adds tremendously to the gravitas of the scene.
The only catch is that, heaven help her, voice actress Tiya Sircar, who typically does a great job with Sabine, isn’t quite up to those charged moments. Sabine’s emotional breakthrough doesn’t quite have the impact it needs to when Sircar comes off more overwrought than convincingly distressed. That’s a real difficulty in trying to sell Sabine’s big realization and triumph here (and in fairness, stretches of clunky dialogue don’t do SIrcar any favors), but thankfully the direction and music in the scene help to make up the difference.
The result is that we get to know Sabine much better. We know that what caused her to defect and to leave Mandalore is the fact that, with her creativity and tech skills, she was a weapons-maker, and reacted with horror after learning that the Empire used the weapons she made on her own people. We know that her clan and family name are sore spots because her own parents disowned her for seemingly abandoning her people for this reason. And we learn that, like many in Star Wars and Rebels specifically she has difficulty trusting in anyone or anything for this reason.
The darksaber is the prism through which all of this information is delivered. It is a symbol, both of Sabine’s connection to her people which she is reluctant to embrace because of the bad memories it conjures, and now also of her new family, the one that, whatever Kanan’s initial hesitancy (and let’s say it, prejudice) about training Mandaloreans, is the one that trusts her with the awesome responsibility of that weapon and all the significance it carries, and the one that would follow her into battle, whether she’s wielding it or not. Lightsabers are one of the most iconic parts of the Star Wars universe, and the best works within it use them not merely as cool futuristic swords to slice and dice, but as windows into the souls of those who carry them.
6.9/10. This was a very confused episode, that was trying to do a lot of good things, but never really manages to get them off the ground due to, at times, incoherent plotting or just plain dumb logic. Let's go through them!
Clare and Dr. Burstein managing to fix Luke was a fairly tense scene...that didn't make much sense. I mean, to some degree you have to go with comic book logic and accept the technobabble, but why heat was necessary to make Luke's skin more pliable, when that level of heat was what made his skin strong in the first place, is fairly puzzling. Still, the show replicated the sort of ER hecticness of a patient flatlining to keep the intensity of the scene up, so you can kind of let them get away with it.
But that's not the only piece of dumb logic in the episode. When Diamonback is trying to frame Luke, and get him tarred as copkiller, it's pretty ridiculous that he himself goes out in a hoodie and uses some superpowered punch thing to do it. The reveal of his shared biology with Luke means there's the grain of a good idea there, but the two don't really look alike, in build or in their facial structure, and Diamondback yelling out "I'm Luke Cage!" just seemed humorous. Maybe you can cut the show some slack for trying to provide a commentary on the problems with cross-racial eye-witness identification, but I'm not sure I give the show credit for such headiness, and either way, it doesn't really work within the logic of the show.
But it works flawlessly, to where Misty is the only person who seems to doubt that Luke was the one who punched that nice cop to death. What, however, is her argument beyond the fact that she just doesn't think Luke would do that (despite the fact that there's dashcam footage of him punching other cops across the block when feeling cornered)? This assailant was wearing a backpack. Luke doesn't wear a backpack! This case is airtight! It's not like Luke could have just put on a backpack for some reason! Yet again, the show tries and fails to show that Misty is a sharp detective. It knows how it wants to present her, but doesn't have the writing to actually demonstrate that she's good at her job beyond the "visualize the crime scene" ability.
Of course we jump back to Dr. Burstein's barn, where Luke uses the laptop to discover that Reva was in on the whole thing. What should be a piercing emotional reveal falls flat due to Mike Colter's acting, which continues to be not quite enough at heightened moments like these. It's an interesting story, feeling betrayed by the one person who gave you hope in a dark place, but Colter can't really sell the moment. His anger and destruction of Burstein's lab/barn feels more like a plot save than a canny narrative choice. it's supposed to be cathartic and feel like justice in Luke preventing someone else from going through what he's been through, but it's shortsighted since he may need those facilities again if he gets shot once more.
It also leads to more dull non-chemistry between Luke and Clare that doesn't really add up to anything but Luke going back to visit his dad's old church in Georgia. I really like the way the scene is shot and edited -- with smooth transitions between the past and the present as Luke stares at the dilapidated chapel and remembers what happened when he was a kid -- but the reveals are underwhelming. There's a fairly direct Isaac and Ishamel parallel going on, and I can I appreciate that as thematic subtext to the issues between Luke and Diamondback, but the show does a pretty weak job at showing how young Luke could have missed his Dad having an affair with Diamondback's mom, while adult Luke can put the pieces together. The things he remembers aren't exactly subtle, and while you can handwave it with Luke having repressed the memories until the site of his dad's church made them all flood back, it seems very strange that he wouldn't have put this together sooner.
Things get dumber still after the cops start beating around the block trying to get info on where Luke is. Again, I like what the show is trying to do here. There is a The Wire-esque quality of these scenes of cops being angry at the loss of one of their own, and taking it out on the streets, hassling corner boys and being needlessly rough. That side of things rings true and feels motivated, even if, again, everyone feels like a sucker for falling for Diamondback's ruse so easily. The cop interrogating Little Lonnie and going too far feels like a bit much, a bit too calculated to tug on your heartstrings, but it works for what the show's going for.
The problem is that since Mariah is being strongarmed by Diamondback to try to sell the public on Luke Cage and powered people generally as a threat, the show has to tie her pitch for the police department buying superpowered weapons from Diamondback to the cops beating up this kid, and it doesn't really add up. There's a strange "the cops abused their power, so we should give them really powerful weapons" logic that doesn't make any sense, but for this episode in particular, you just kind of have to go with the flow and accept that nothing makes sense and the story's just going where it needs to go regardless of the demands of basic logic.
So of course, Luke returns to Harlem (this whole thing seemed to happen very quick, how long did his trip and curing take and visit home take?) and Misty is after Diamondback at Harlem's Paradise and Luke jumps into save her as we hit a cliffhanger. Why the hell not? It's vaguely action-y, and it gives us some cool scenes of Mariah riling up the crowd and showing herself as an expert manipulator and showman even when the pitch makes no sense. With Alfre Woodard's delivery, I almost believed it.
That's the big problem though. This show wants to traffic in real life tensions between police and the black community. It wants to play in the realism of its setting and the genuine issues facing the people of Harlem and similar urban areas. But it has to marry all of that with an out there comic book storyline, involving secret brothers, magic labs in barns, and elaborate schemes to sell superguns. The result is something that often feels very stitched together and not really doing justice to either side of the equation. You can employ comic book logic the whole way through, or you can try to ascribe for something approaching realism, but finding the balance is a tricky business, and it's something that all of Marvel's Netflix shows have struggled with to some degree. Luke Cage in particular seems stuck in the middle, with no clear idea on how to reconcile its hardscrabble atmosphere and its superhero roots.
8.3/10. Best episode of the season so far. I've appreciated the show's resistance to doing a straight up origin story up t this point, but it was actually fascinating to see how Luke Cage became the superhero he is today. The dialogue was still pretty rough, especially in the scenes between he and Riva which were exchanges of either wooden exposition or silly cliches, but it's a cool story.
Also, it's the most I've liked Mike Colter in the title role. Maybe it's just the fact that he was doing the strong silent type a little better here. There's a purity to Luke Cage that can be a little annoying (Bullock on Deadwood is a good analogue) but seeing him be a little less in control, to the point where he's basically lost hope and is letting himself be sullied but slowly building himself back up, makes the character and the performance much more compelling.
There's also some fun mythology stuff. While the cuffs and the headband and the loud shirt come off a bit cheesy these days, making them be part of the magical machine that gave him his powers, in addition to a good ol' clothesline borrow, only to have him declare that he looks like a fool once he sees himself in the mirror is a nice way to nod to the source material without doubling down on it. At the same time, I appreciate the symmetry of Luke being at his wits end on his first day in prison and punching the walls, only for him to pull the same trick after recovering from the experiment and seeing the extent of his powers. The "Sweet Christmas" exclamation is corny, but ya had to do it. (That said, the explanation for how he got his name was really forced.)
In truth, there's a lot that's corny about the episode. The love story between Luke and Riva is a generic prisoner/Florence Nightingale routine. The asshole Warden is a cliche, as is the beloved friend who gets used as leverage and eventually killed because of things you've gotten mixed up in. Still, it gives us insight into Luke's psyche and how he got this way. Even little touches like his hair being wilder all around show how this was a more unrestrained, shaggy time in his life, and that he resolved to pull through.
The frame story of him helping his landlord out of the rubble was mostly just there, but worked well enough as a break between the backstory. Seeing him punch through the rubble at the same time he was punching through Seagate succeeded as a juxtaposition, showing how the things he's doing now are advanced versions of things he's been doing for a long time, and drawing a straight line between his time in prison to his time helping people now. We'll see what repercussions him announcing himself publicly have.
Overall, in the midst of all the major plot machinery that's been moved around in the first few episodes, it's nice to see Luke Cage take a step back and do what amounts to a character piece on its protagonist. There's a lot of narrative shortcuts (and I'm curious to see what role Levy from The Wire will have as the experimenting doctor), but it made the character less monolithic and more interesting, which goes a long way.
Well, again, one great scene goes a long way. The scene where Frank and Karen converse in that diner is one of the best in the show. The way that Deborah Ann Woll conveys that she's at her wits end is superb, and Frank's monologue about how feeling hurt means there's a connection to something, and he'd kill to have that connection back is a little trite, but wonderfully performed. It's a powerful, human moment at the center of all this chaos, and the performances make sure it work. The ensuing scene where Frank beats up the mooks in the diner to get the info he wants about the Blacksmith is pretty horrifying, but then again it's supposed to be, and I appreciate the show not pulling punches about how brutal Punisher is, even if it's a bit grusome to watch in practice.
I was less enamored with the whole bit with Clare Temple and Matt. It's always nice to see someone like Clare cut through Matt's martyr complex B.S., but the hospital staff covering up what happened was really vague. I get that they're presumably leaving plot threads that this show or The Defenders can pick up in later seasons, but it didn't feel well developed, and Clare quitting over it seemed like piece-moving rather than something that stemmed purely from her character.
Madame Gao was a treat, and again, I think I find Daredevil's scenes the most entertaining when someone clearly smarter than him is calling him out for not really looking at the big picture. The actress who plays Gao has a great presence about her, and that helps keep the tension up during the expository dialogue. Plus, I even enjoyed the creativity of Daredevil darting among the clothes in the dry cleaner in order to hide. It's a little silly, but it makes sense for what he's trying to do, and helped distinguish this fight from the dozens of others he's had with faceless mooks.
Speaking of which, the final scene on the boat was so-so. Thematically, I like the idea that Daredevil is offering to help Frank, and even to violate his no-killing code in order to do it, at the same time Frank is upset that Daredevil won't even allow him the false moment of peace from killing one of those henchmen. The dialogue itself is clunky, but I like the contrast, that Daredevil doesn't believe in wanton destruction, but maybe in the fact of what Karen's told him and he's learned himself about Castle's background and The Blacksmith, he's willing to make an exception given all that this guy has taken away from Castle and others. Matt crosses himself before saying this, which is another nod to the religious themes that have been floating in the background this season.
The show's pretty much reached the point to where it's mostly just enjoyable pulp with a few scenes that rise above that, but I can appreciate it as slightly heady entertainment, even if it feels like the show is aiming to be more than that at times.
Look, pairing up Fisk and Punisher, arguably the two characters who've made the biggest impression on this show, is just a recipe for success. It admittedly wasn't perfect. The plot reasons for them getting together and for Fisk releasing Punisher are vague, convenient, rushed, or all three. It's hard to keep the characterizations for the two characters consistent and still have them plausibly team up with one another, even as a marriage of convenience, and the show ties itself in a few knots trying to make that work. And Jon Bernthal's very naturalistic performance as the wounded-if-determined soldier isn't a perfect tonal match with Vincent D'onofrio's very good but much more mannered and affected take on The Kingpin.
But damn if it isn't captivating to watch the two of them react to each other in that prison. Just seeing Fisk plying his trade in the "big box" is a sight that makes me wish there could have been a mini-movie or something just focusing his Orange Is the New Black-esque adventures. Punisher's scene getting his answers from Dutton (who informs him that the crossfire that resulted in his family's deaths was the result of a police sting), was nicely intense. The ensuing scene where Frank takes out an entire cell block was uncomfortably gory, but it fit with Castle's M.O. and the gore served a solid purpose of elucidating the lengths Punisher will go to in contrast to Matt. And though things got a little overly theatrical at times, the scene where Fisk and Castle went toe-to-toe was absolutely electric, enough to where the somewhat suspect plot elements faded into the background.
Speaking of convenient plot elements, it's quite a coincidence that Karen finds herself with a de facto job at the New York Bulletin just when Matt and Foggy are so much on the outs, and the aftermath of the Castle conviction still so fresh, that Nelson & Murdock is shutting down. Still, it's nice to see Karen be able to continue her dogged investigator routine, and taking over Ben's post at the Bulletin is a nice organic way to make that work. It helps that Ben's editor (a poor man's Paul Giamatti who's endearing from the getgo), is there to be a foil and friend along the way, with Karen pushing back on him just enough to keep it interesting.
Unfortunately, Daredevil is, once again, the least interesting thing on his own show. His fight with Nobu is fine, and there's something quite creepy about the blood farm he uncovers, but his whole breaking off ties so as not to hurt the people he cares about routine is pretty cliche. That said, his is the most minor story in the episode, and since the Punisher/Kingpin stuff soars and the Karen stuff does very well too, the episode overall works quite well.
I'd like to note at the outset that I'm watching the episodes in the order outlined on Memory Alpha. As such, it will be out of sync with the order outlined here and on Netflix.
It's difficult, I think, to approach Star Trek with anything like a critical blankness as I'm trying to do throughout this project. Its cultural influence is so pervasive that watching this episode for the first time I'm already familiar with Kirk the cad, Spock the logical but trusted deputy and all the tropes that will undoubtedly play out over the course of the series. I doubt that this will dampen my enjoyment at all, but it's worth taking into consideration. The episode opens well as both Kirk and Spock's characters are established, in broad strokes, in the first two minutes or so. From there the viewer is taken through the scenario: through an encounter with a magnetic storm, crew member Gary Mitchell is changed somehow and begins to develop latent psychic powers at an accelerated rate. His concerns become less human, leading him to become a danger to the rest of the crew as he seeks to transcend humanity.
The effects are dated and the writing isn't phenomenal, but the episode does a solid job of portraying Mitchell's change while revealing more about Kirk. What was less convincing was Dehner's sudden willingness to follow him but she acts as a convenient stooge. The confrontation allows all-action Kirk to reveal himself and Mitchell is defeated accordingly. What is most important is that the Enterprise's mission has been established, Kirk and Spock and their individual traits have been introduced and emphasised and the format that I gather the show will follow is demonstrated - the ship encounters an external force and Kirk, along with Spock, uses his ingenuity and brawn to overcome it. Once I know all this I'm able to sit back and enjoy it all - the effects, the bad one-liners, the occasional lack of forward momentum. One of the things I find compelling about the Star Trek universe is the expansiveness of it, and I'm looking forward to delving into it.
6.8/10
Lincoln is one of the most boring characters on a show that has had to fight accusations that it's dull. Focusing the main story of the episode on him was a recipe for doldrums that the show lived up to. Even seeing him go all Static Shock on the power lines or bus or guards didn't do much for me. Accidentally killing a friend who's mistrustful of you should be a meaningful event, but it was constructed so haphazardly, and with such an uninteresting character, that I barely cared. The lack of chemistry between him and Skye/Daisy meant that I only groaned when they kissed. Daisy herself has had to overcome bland mary sue characterization, and pairing her with a piece of stubbly milquetoast doesn't do anything to help that.
I did appreciate Coulson's part of it. I go back and forth on his interactions with Rosalind. On the one hand, at times it feels like a dinner theater version of Hepburn and Tracy. On the other hand, when things are clicking, it makes Coulson feel like a human being and not just a delivery mechanism for exposition, high-minded ideals, and ill-fitting quips. I'm cautiously optimistic about the storyline, and especially pleased that they tied it to Coulson learning lessons from the "Real Shield" debacle.
Hunter and May's storyline worked well enough, as they're two of the better characters on the show, even if the "fight club to get into Hydra" plot felt a bit tacked on. May struggling to not just get right down to business in the pub while Hunter and his mate were Brit-ing it up was amusing, and her and Hunter feinting toward what happened during May's vacation was nice. I was surprised at how bloody they let the Hunter fight get, and it's always nice to see May kicking some ass, even if it felt shoehorned in. Again, we'll see where it goes.
And as usual, Fitz and Simmons are the best thing about the show, with Fitz doing everything he can to get things back to normal even if it's not what Simmons needs, and Simmons convincingly showing the psychological scars from her experiences. Are Fitz and Simmons's storylines any better than anyone else's? Probably not, but they're better actors than most on the show, and they sell the emotional undercurrent of all of their stories, which gives them greater weight than anyone but May can muster.
(Oh, and what was with all of the dutch angles in this episode? Seemed like a weird quirk in the way the episode was shot.)
6.8/10
Lincoln is one of the most boring characters on a show that has had to fight accusations that it's dull. Focusing the main story of the episode on him was a recipe for doldrums that the show lived up to. Even seeing him go all Static Shock on the power lines or bus or guards didn't do much for me. Accidentally killing a friend who's mistrustful of you should be a meaningful event, but it was constructed so haphazardly, and with such an uninteresting character, that I barely cared. The lack of chemistry between him and Skye/Daisy meant that I only groaned when they kissed. Daisy herself has had to overcome bland mary sue characterization, and pairing her with a piece of stubbly milquetoast doesn't do anything to help that.
I did appreciate Coulson's part of it. I go back and forth on his interactions with Rosalind. On the one hand, at times it feels like a dinner theater version of Hepburn and Tracy. On the other hand, when things are clicking, it makes Coulson feel like a human being and not just a delivery mechanism for exposition, high-minded ideals, and ill-fitting quips. I'm cautiously optimistic about the storyline, and especially pleased that they tied it to Coulson learning lessons from the "Real Shield" debacle.
Hunter and May's storyline worked well enough, as they're two of the better characters on the show, even if the "fight club to get into Hydra" plot felt a bit tacked on. May struggling to not just get right down to business in the pub while Hunter and his mate were Brit-ing it up was amusing, and her and Hunter feinting toward what happened during May's vacation was nice. I was surprised at how bloody they let the Hunter fight get, and it's always nice to see May kicking some ass, even if it felt shoehorned in. Again, we'll see where it goes.
And as usual, Fitz and Simmons are the best thing about the show, with Fitz doing everything he can to get things back to normal even if it's not what Simmons needs, and Simmons convincingly showing the psychological scars from her experiences. Are Fitz and Simmons's storylines any better than anyone else's? Probably not, but they're better actors than most on the show, and they sell the emotional undercurrent of all of their stories, which gives them greater weight than anyone but May can muster.
(Oh, and what was with all of the dutch angles in this episode? Seemed like a weird quirk in the way the episode was shot.)
6.8/10
Lincoln is one of the most boring characters on a show that has had to fight accusations that it's dull. Focusing the main story of the episode on him was a recipe for doldrums that the show lived up to. Even seeing him go all Static Shock on the power lines or bus or guards didn't do much for me. Accidentally killing a friend who's mistrustful of you should be a meaningful event, but it was constructed so haphazardly, and with such an uninteresting character, that I barely cared. The lack of chemistry between him and Skye/Daisy meant that I only groaned when they kissed. Daisy herself has had to overcome bland mary sue characterization, and pairing her with a piece of stubbly milquetoast doesn't do anything to help that.
I did appreciate Coulson's part of it. I go back and forth on his interactions with Rosalind. On the one hand, at times it feels like a dinner theater version of Hepburn and Tracy. On the other hand, when things are clicking, it makes Coulson feel like a human being and not just a delivery mechanism for exposition, high-minded ideals, and ill-fitting quips. I'm cautiously optimistic about the storyline, and especially pleased that they tied it to Coulson learning lessons from the "Real Shield" debacle.
Hunter and May's storyline worked well enough, as they're two of the better characters on the show, even if the "fight club to get into Hydra" plot felt a bit tacked on. May struggling to not just get right down to business in the pub while Hunter and his mate were Brit-ing it up was amusing, and her and Hunter feinting toward what happened during May's vacation was nice. I was surprised at how bloody they let the Hunter fight get, and it's always nice to see May kicking some ass, even if it felt shoehorned in. Again, we'll see where it goes.
And as usual, Fitz and Simmons are the best thing about the show, with Fitz doing everything he can to get things back to normal even if it's not what Simmons needs, and Simmons convincingly showing the psychological scars from her experiences. Are Fitz and Simmons's storylines any better than anyone else's? Probably not, but they're better actors than most on the show, and they sell the emotional undercurrent of all of their stories, which gives them greater weight than anyone but May can muster.
(Oh, and what was with all of the dutch angles in this episode? Seemed like a weird quirk in the way the episode was shot.)
