Angel

CJL’s Review of ANGEL Season Five, Conclusion (episode by episode rundown)

Let’s get right to it:

CONVICTION - Season openers are a bear to write, and this one had to be trickier than most. Joss had to lay the groundwork for a new premise, new location, explain the absent characters, introduce new, boring ones (I’m looking at you, Eve), etc. But I think watching the design crew build the set would have been more exciting. Tons of tedious exposition, and without his symbolic value, the villain of the week would be completely forgettable. (Fries and his son are the first of many parallels to Angel and the absent Connor. Much foreshadowing of a day of reckoning over the mindwipe. Flip down to 5.18 to see how that turns out.) Funny teaser, a great joke about the W&H phone system, and Harmony is as lovely (and dim) as ever. But most of this episode is like Joss’ fancy five-minute tracking shot in Act I—a lot of movement, but nothing much going on. (Grade: 6.5 out of 10)

JUST REWARDS - Blondie Bear! Another fair-to-middling villain in Magnus Hainsley, but the Spike/Angel interaction, snarky and engaging as ever, makes all the difference. The real fun of the episode, though, is the touch of ghoulish humor around the edges: Hainsley’s display room, Spike’s comment on "the circle of death," and Spike getting in a few more shots at Angel after Hainsley’s body dies. The closer with Fred shows a touching vulnerability in Spike, a welcome relief from his usual bravado. Spoooooooon! (Grade: 7.5 out of 10)

UNLEASHED - Craft and Fain’s worst script, reminiscent of some of the low points of Season 3. I guess Joss wanted to drive home how Fred was the glue that held Angel Investigations together, but she’s verging on Mary Sue-dom for most of the episode. Curvaceous figure aside, Nina doesn’t make much of an impression either, and that song at the end? Painful. Excellent direction by Marta Grabiak, who effectively conveys the heightened sensory experience of lycanthropy. Nice work by John Billingsley as the xenobiologist (always a pleasure, John). All the regulars seem to be MIA, though. (Grade: 5.5 out of 10)

HELLBOUND - Boy, ME sure loves its haunted houses, doesn’t it? The Price, Habeas Corpses, and now this. DeKnight works his butt off trying to capture the proper mood of a Halloween scare-fest: flickering lights, long, sinister-looking corridors with Something Bad at the end, spirit mediums, people coughing blood, ghostly messages, etc. It breaks my heart to tell him that the episode just isn’t scary. I also get the strange impression that, even though the episode is All About Spike, Pavayne’s victim could have been any poor ectoplasmic schnook wandering down to his basement. DeKnight doesn’t deal with any issues specific to Spike’s character; even though Spike was almost dragged down to Hell, I felt that almost nothing was at stake. (Grade: 7 out of 10)

LIFE OF THE PARTY - I love Lorne, and even though they’re always uneven at best (see: The House Always Wins), I love Lorne episodes. ME lets Ben Edlund loose here, and LotP is filled with those insane touches that are Edlund’s trademark: Sebassis’ "carafiend," the Pylean-skin coat, and the demon masquerading as a human ("my other car is a Lambourghini"). This episode neatly sets up Lorne’s character arc for Season 5, even though ME seems to forget about it for huge stretches of the season. I could do without the Angel/Eve sex, and (God help us) the return of Wesley’s Hidden Crush on Fred. But the party is a blast, and it’s great to see our two underutilized regulars dance the night away. Lorney-tunes! Harmonica! (Grade: 7 out of 10)

THE CAUTIONARY TALE OF NUMERO CINCO - In many ways, my favorite episode of the season: a return to my childhood days of wrestling fandom, when I watched Lucha Libre on Channel 47 in Manhattan. A phenomenally well-balanced mix of film noir, high camp and Aztec and Buffyverse mythologies, with a welcome-if-belated acknowledgment of the Hispanic population of Los Angeles. Danny Mora turns in one of the best one-shot supporting performances of the entire series as Numero Cinco, and he never even takes off his mask. Amazing. (Grade: 9 out of 10)

LINEAGE - After shuttling him to the background for the first six eps, ME finally brings Wes out to play, and Alexis Denisof runs through the history of Wesley Wyndam-Pryce in 45 minutes: Wes talks smack with the weapons dealer (Leader Wes), regresses in front of Daddy (Doofus Wes), creeps out Fred (Stalker Wes), tortures a cyberninja (Badass Wes) and empties his cartridge into Robopop (Stone Cold Killer Wes). It’s a bravura performance, but in retrospect (Drew Goddard’s eye for Whedonverse continuity aside), the episode seems completely disconnected from not only the seasonal arc, but from parts of the episode itself. Why is Angel so comfortable with Wes "making the hard choice" and shooting his Dad, when it was established in the first five minutes that Angel himself could easily be the next target if Wesley thought it necessary? Why are Angel and Spike cracking bad jokes about killing their parents to "comfort" Wes? Who sent the cyberninjas and why? Excellent, subtle performance by Roy Dotrice as Roger, but the episode doesn’t hold together. (Grade: 7 out of 10)

DESTINY - An explosion of operatic drama and passion, as 120 years of jealousy and mutual resentment finally come to a head. I’ve got to give Fury and DeKnight credit-there’s a lot of wild shit in this ep, and the lockdown at Wolfram and Hart and the battle for the Cup of Perpetual Torment could have easily come off as unhinged as the Eye Bleeders. But the writers keep the characters in focus, and in one instance, actually achieve the astounding illusion of making Eve INTERESTING. (Thank God that never happened again; would have completely shattered my belief system.) Wonderful touches: Gunn’s collection of robots, Spike’s nooner with Harm (and the acknowledgment that Fred and Gunn did the same back in the day), the toner fluid incident (I can relate), and-of course-the boggling last-second reveal of the one and only Lindsey MacDonald. The Spike/Angel knock-down/drag-out is a classic, and I was thrilled to see Captain Peroxide get his AtS upgrade, doing those 20-foot leaps all vamps do in this series. Kudos to Fury for overriding DeKnight and writing Spike as the victor. Docked a point for the watered-down Drusilla in the flashbacks, but that was inevitable, since we’re looking at things from Spike and Angel’s point of view. I’m still not happy about it, though. (Grade: 8.5 out of 10)

HARM’S WAY - As I’ve said a number of times this year, I luvs my Mercedes and an entire episode devoted to Harmony should have been pure heaven; but if Harmony’s travails in the shallow end of the corporate shark tank are supposed to parallel Angel’s experiences in deep waters, Craft and Fain never sell the connection, and the episode comes off as an entertaining trifle. The first five minutes are fantastic: the W&H promotional film ("Yoyodyne"—heh) is a masterstroke, and the musical montage with Harm is pure sugar rush. Once the murder plot gets rolling, though, the comic energy drains away, and the Spike/Harmony conversation caps the proceedings on a truly baffling note. (Didn’t believe his speech then; don’t believe it now.) In Craft and Fain’s defense, I will say that the kitchen in my office has dozens of pairs of chopsticks lying around in a cabinet drawer, and their use as lethal weapons in this ep is both funny and feels absolutely right. Good to know my company is well-armed in case of vampire attack. (Grade: 7 out of 10)

SOUL PURPOSE - A paranoid’s wet dream, on a level with "The Magic Bullet" from Season 4, and the best depiction of Angel’s ‘sublime melancholia’ in Season 5. This is Boreanaz’ episode all the way. His reaction shots are classic—the utter confusion on his face when Fred dives in and pulls out his internal organs, the flop sweat when the Fang Gang brutally critiques his "performance," and the weary sadness as he wheels the mail cart away from Spike’s annunciation. (Aw. Poor, sad former mass murderer.) DB’s direction is almost equally impressive, duplicating the look of Angel Season One for "Champion" Spike with surprising ease, and lending the dream sequences a properly surreal tone. Two sub-plots here that should have had more room to breathe: Wes and Gunn as the corrupt Crockett and Tubbs, and Spike as "Mr. Outside." End of season question: given what we know now, why does Lindsey send Spike to save Angel? (Grade: 8.5 out of 10)

DAMAGE - To those who hated "Lies My Parents Told Me" and fumed at Spike’s utter obliviousness to Nikki’s pain, Mutant Enemy offers this conciliatory bouquet of black roses. The best pure Spike episode of the season, with the character development that "Hellbound" promised but never delivered. Goddard and DeKnight write a textbook on Spike/Angel contrasts—Angel as the cool, methodical planner and Spike as the impulsive man of action. Breakout performance by Ravi Nawat as Dana, working with a degree of difficulty of about a million. Think about it: she has to convey Faith-level toughness, "Coma Buffy"-level psychic trauma, and multiple slayer personalities. On top of that, we have to see her slowly make the distinction between her childhood memories and the memories imposed by the Calling-all with minimal dialogue. (That she hits almost all of those notes is close to miraculous.) Andrew is back (oh joy)-and even though I want to dive for the antacids every time I think about his five-minute expository lecture, I have to admit, the "worm turns" climax wouldn’t work with anybody else. (That should have been the last time we saw Tom Lenk this season.) The final scene between Angel and Spike is one of those quiet, golden moments when you’re grateful you’ve stuck with Joss for eight years. (Grade: 9 out 10)

YOU’RE WELCOME - Another case of Joss and Crew adding two and two together and coming up with three. The first 45 minutes rock the house Old School style, the best Angel Season One episode since Season One. We have Cordelia charging back into the game, as deadly with a quip as ever, bringing out the quiet and vulnerable side of Angel and the gentle, even wryly amusing side of Wes (which seemed to disappear when he grew the stubble). She slaps down Eve not once, but twice, cutting her off at the knees during introductions and later, slapping UC Santa Cruz chippie with the ultimate insult: "Lilah Junior." (I cannot tell you how much love I felt for Cordy during those moments.) Glenn Quinn visits us from beyond via the famous Angel Investigations videotape, Harmony finally gets violent on behalf of the good guys, and there are many, many lovely and gratuitous shots of Charisma’s black bra. (Life is good.) Then Lindsay shows up to activate the fail safe, and the episode goes screwy. Even if Eve blows his anonymity with Angel and the Gang, why does Lindsay blow his cover? Why does he throw away years of planning (and expose himself to the Senior Partners) in a futile attempt to kill Angel? And why exactly does Angel suddenly feel good about his job as CEO of Hell Inc.? The moral dilemma at the start of the episode is still there at the end. (Remember, this is BEFORE Cordy gives him the Kiss of Enlightenment.) No solid explanations, not even after Power Play, and it’s probably one of those times when the standalone ep and the seasonal arc don’t quite mesh. Still, I can’t bring myself to feel petty about this. For the most part, the rare episode worthy of the #100 mark, and a spectacular and dignified exit for Charisma. (Grade: 8.5 out of 10)

WHY WE FIGHT - A well-meaning attempt to put the events of Season 5 in the context of an "unknown chapter" of Angel’s past life, but the plot’s metaphorical engine stalls halfway through Act II. Goddard and DeKnight do an admirable job setting up the parallels between 1943 Angel and Angel today: morally ambiguous situation, reluctant hero, loyal crew trapped and set up to suffer for their own ignorance. Unfortunately, once the situation is set up, the drama is over, depth charges or no depth charges. We know Angel is going to walk out of that sub; we know Spike survives and Lawson will become a vampire and pop up in the 21st century as well. What’s left is the episode’s metaphorical significance, and that’s kind of hazy. Who does Lawson represent here, anyway-Angel, looking for a reason to fight? Spike? Connor, the sacrificial lamb? A little bit of all three? Why exactly does Angel let his progeny go free, even though he knows they’re going to kill people? And why does he kill Lawson here, now? Never clear. The Fang Gang is barely a factor after the credits, hung up on wires for symbolic value; Spike, in full raging asshole mode, is not used particularly well, either. OTOH, Camden Toy gives another one of his outrageously mannered performances as the Prince of Lies, and you have to like the tie-ins to BtVS mythology-we witness the birth of the Initiative, and come out of the ep with a warm glow knowing that Buffy was right about Rasputin after all.... (Grade: 7 out 10)

SMILE TIME - Sheer comic genius. As a long-time Muppet maniac, I was looking forward to this episode for weeks, and Edlund exceeded my wildest expectations. Half the dialogue in this episode is destined to be repeated in sci-fi conventions from now until the end of TV: "Stupid plastic piece of crap!" "My little prince!" "You’re a wee little puppet man!" "I’m made of felt-and my nose comes off." "I’m writing a song about the difference between analogy and metaphor." "Make him swallow his tongue-again!" Fantastic puppet work, and Boreanaz’ vocal performance is so dead on, I find myself praying that he does Joss a favor and signs up for the Buffy animated series. Along with all the merriment and music, we also advance the seasonal plotline and Angel hits a major turning point in his unlife: for the first time ever, he stops looking toward the future and tries to pay attention to the Here and Now. (Watch out for that werewolf claw, Angel! Ouch-and hee!) And for the cherry on top, David Fury pops in dressed as Jim Henson, just in case you didn’t think this season was meta enough as it is. Docked half a point for the Incredibly Boring True Romance of Wesley and Fred (too little, too late), but not even that blown subplot can spoil this episode. Why didn’t Fox didn’t flood the market with Angel (and Vamp!Angel) puppets right after this episode aired? They would have made a mint. (Grade: 9.5 out of 10)

A HOLE IN THE WORLD - Schizophrenia, thy name is Whedon. Honestly, does Joss’ brain short circuit when it comes to Amy Acker? The scenes where Angel and the boys huddle around Fred and then devote their very souls to fighting for her life contain some of the most melodramatic dialogue in the history of any Whedon series. Joss is hammering away at us here, screaming out through the TV set: "This is the most beautiful, glorious woman who’s ever walked onto this set, and you will be moved to tears, dammit! YOU WILL BE MOVED!" He completely oversells his case, and these scenes are all but unwatchable. I also find it annoying that the last thing Fred wants is to devolve into the helpless damsel in distress-she says it in no uncertain terms—and she dies as precisely that. Meanwhile, on the other side of Whedon’s brain, the scenes with Spike and Angel at the Deeper Well are heartfelt and funny, deliberately evocative of Monty Python and the Holy Grail (my favorite movie comedy). The burial site of the Old Ones, the hole in the world itself, deepens Joss’ mythology by a full measure. "St. Petersburg" sums up the Spike/Angelus relationship in two words and one fluid motion. Now that’s writing. (Grade: 7.5 out of 10)

SHELLS - Better. Not quite as many delirious highs as the best scenes in A Hole in the World, but all the lows are eliminated. Once Whedon finishes his contribution with the brilliant "perspectives" scene between Angel and Spike, the big boss and our souled vamps fade into the background and the supporting cast takes over. This episode is J. August Richards’ high point on the series. Gunn’s grief, helpless anger and self-loathing are palpable. Amy Acker blows our collective mind with her transformation into Illyria, a complete 180 degree turn away from Fred. Funniest Scene Ever In a Tragic Episode: Wesley gunning down Knox right in the middle of Angel’s pompous speech about the preciousness of every human life. ("Weren’t you even LISTENING?!") So good and so right because it fits both characters perfectly. Yes, there’s another stupid song at the end, but if you turn the sound off, the montage could conceivably move you to tears. (Grade: 8 out of 10)

UNDERNEATH - Craft and Fain atone for Unleashed, and go out on top. Even though the Wolfram and Hart holding dimension brings to mind The Matrix, The Stepford Wives, and a thousand other movies about suburban horror, the environment created in this episode has a certain visceral power the others lack. (With life in modern day America so psychically compartmentalized, sometimes you need the blunt reminder that underneath our comfortable everyday life, there is blood to be paid every single day.) Again, J. August Richards turns in spectacular work, and we can’t help but wonder if he’s acting to help the team, punish himself, or both. The Spike/Angel buddy act is revving on all cylinders, and we are finally introduced to the little bad who should have been the little bad for the entire season: Hamilton. Docked a point for the Wes/Illyria scenes, which aren’t half as profound as Craft and Fain so desperately want them to be; half-point back on for Wesley’s "joke" and the sad realization that both men in the joke are Wes. (Grade: 9 out of 10)

ORIGIN - I know I should be angry at ME. After telling us for most of the season that Angel did a bad, bad thing to Connor in "Home," and foreshadowing a terrible reckoning, Joss and Co. bring back Connor, undo the mindwipe, and....everything is just peachy! Connor is fine! Angel is fine! Wes is-OK, Wes is still nuts, but the restored memories give him a sort of balance after the trauma of the past few weeks. A clear betrayal of the seasonal arc—and yet, I enjoyed this episode immensely. DB and VK have had great chemistry since "A New World," and the magic continues here; Boreanaz is always more emotionally engaged when his paternal instincts are in play, and Kartheiser displays an easy, relaxed sense of humor that’s instantly endearing. (Yes, I said "endearing.") Howlingly funny scenes between Spike and Illyria, tons of Season 4 in-jokes (including Connor’s thing for older women), and a no-nonsense scene between Gunn and Hamilton that gains power from brevity. Plus: Sahjhan! They finally settle the prophecy! (So it’s a happy ending. Is that so wrong?) (Grade: 8.5 out of 10)

TIME BOMB - This is what people in the TV business call a "bottle" episode: just the regulars, no outside locations, no guest stars (Adam Baldwin doesn’t count-he’s Joss’ buddy), and not a lot of extras walking around the set. Bottle episodes usually smell cheap, but in this case, Edlund makes the insularity of the W&H environment work for him. Although we didn’t realize it at the time, "Time Bomb" is where Angel breaks his previous patterns and works out the plan to take down the Circle of the Black Thorn; Illyria’s time jumps allow him to sort through possibilities, witness consequences, and assess failures of strategy, all without any real cost. It’s a deliberately convoluted episode, more in line with Star Trek: The Next Generation than with ANGEL, but most of the regulars do solid work amidst the chaos: Gunn, trying to balance his ill-gotten legal knowledge and his renewed sense of ethics; Wesley, skittering across the floor of his office, now almost fully schizoid; Illyria, trying to hang on to the last shred of her regal dignity; and Angel-as frustrated and pissed off as we’ve ever seen him, his brain taxed to the limit by the twists in the space/time continuum and his (seemingly) limited options as W&H CEO. I have no doubt this episode will improve after repeated viewings. Bring on the S5 DVD! (Grade: 8 out of 10)

THE GIRL IN QUESTION - OK, I’m going to say this one more time, and that’ll be the end of it. I had no objections to the Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (TM shadowkat) premise of this episode and I actually looked forward to seeing the Spuffies and the Bangels go down with ‘ship. But in puncturing the delusions of our heroes, Goddard, DeKnight, and Greenwalt take the mockery over the edge and make Spike and Angel look like idiots, not fools. With fools, we can laugh at their delusions, but still sympathize with their confusion and pain; with idiots, any expression of sympathy would be wasted-and I think Spike and Angel deserve a little better than that. Still, even though the laughs are somewhat crude and obvious, there are big laughs here: Ilona, her cleavage, and her overactive salivary gland; the slow motion fight at the disco; and especially the two-second, don’t-blink-or-you’ll-miss-it shot of Spike and Dru in ‘La Dolce Morte’ Fellini chic (which practically screams fanfic). But this episode would have been an afterthought for me if it weren’t for the ‘B’ plotline, which takes the Wes/Illyria relationship to even stranger and more disturbing places. There’s a potent mixture of grief, loneliness, self-delusion, and gamesmanship bubbling underneath the surface of those innocuous scenes with the Burkles, and I hate the WB with a fiery passion for not allowing us to see Denisof and Acker explore each of those themes in Season 6. (Grade: 7 out of 10)

POWER PLAY - Cribbing from my previous 5.21 review: "What’s utterly remarkable and fun about ‘Power Play’ is that, from the very beginning, the long-time Angel audience is two steps ahead of Fury, and Fury knows it. So he sets up the episode as a game with the veteran viewers, the Has Angel Turned Eeeeevil game—a game which he has absolutely no interest in playing. Even though Fury is playing with the Ministers of Grace (tm TWOP) and sucking them into Angel’s deception, it’s worth noting that Fury doesn’t even try that hard to fool the audience. Once we’re past his opening dialogue with Nina, we’re fairly convinced that Angel is faking his conversion to the forces of darkness and the MoG and the Circle are morons for buying this load of malarkey.

"But then something interesting happens. As we uncover more and more of Angel’s plan (and his attempts to cover his tracks), we see more and more of the moral compromises Angel had to make to accomplish this near-miracle of setting up the take-down of the Circle of the Black Thorn. And so, when we’ve circled back to the opening teaser and the murder of Drogyn, we’re revisiting the initial question from an entirely new perspective: OK, he was faking the whole ‘I’ve turned evil’ bit. We kind of had that figured from the beginning. But how much evil did he have to do to accomplish this greater good? What if Angel had to kill more of the MoG in order to solidify his place in the Circle? How far down the dark path would we be willing to go along with Angel in his quest to strike that staggering blow against the forces of evil?" It is this gold mine of philosophical ambiguity that led me to participate in Masq’s virtual S6 project. "Power Play" had more to say about the traps of power than all of Buffy Season 7. (Grade: 9 out of 10)

NOT FADE AWAY - Quoting myself from the top of Part I of this review: "And so it ends—not with a bang, but with a rumble, as Angel and his crew of do-gooders set their jaws and prepare to roll the rock up the hill one last time for our viewing pleasure. Joss went for the Myth of Sisyphus ending, as I’d always suspected. No reward in the offing, no benediction from the Powers That Be, no ultimate victory in sight-just the satisfaction of a job well done and a battle well fought. As someone who punches the clock every day and tries to make the world a better place through my tiny contribution to the magazine, I saw it as an optimistic ending. It was both a final statement about the character of Angel and a statement of purpose about Joss himself: he knows his time in the media spotlight is limited, and he intends to battle the forces of greed and mediocrity as long and as hard as he can. I hope Angel’s last stand will be remembered by talented writers and producers who are still fighting the ever-increasing banality of American television within the system, and who can keep the flame alive until quality scripted programming returns full force. I light my candle in solidarity." (Grade: 9 out of 10)

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Well, that’s all folks. The end of ANGEL. But not necessarily the end of my series of reviews. Just before Serenity explodes across the big screen in 2005, I’ll come back with a look back at all 13 episodes of Firefly, and who knows? Maybe some time in 2006, I’ll be running us through the first season of BUFFY: The Animated Series, Ripper—or even Fray. (Joss is too powerful a creative force and brings in too much money in ancillary merchandise to be knocked off the tube for long.) So until next time, be good, be well, and I’ll see you in Chicago!