Exodus (2)

DVD, Smallville S2 (Exodus) (2)

This marks the end of an era for me: the final episode of 'Smallville' to review. Fitting then, that it should be the point at which I pretty much abandoned the series on its first run. I actually watched the first two episodes of Season 3, but decided there was no point in continuing, until a few years later when I started my blog and gave it another chance as something I could write about, even if I didn't enjoy it. But this is the episode where things went off the rails, so I'm surprised to find I quite liked it in the past, because, similarly to 'Calling,' I found it to be less enjoyable now. I can see they were trying to recreate the success and drama of Season 1's epic cliffhanger, one of the high points of the entire series, but what we get instead is a litany of misery for all the characters and it's a real low to end a season on. Again, I can see now why they introduced the plot of Martha conceiving a child - it was to give Clark the most self-pitying moment of his life once he realises he's responsible for her losing the baby, causing him to go off the rails and, effectively, turn to drugs for solace and escape: the red ring of Kryptonite is a drug to him, and never an idea I liked. In fact that was the only thing I remotely remembered about the episode before re-watching, that he's somehow exposed to Red Kryptonite and ends the episode and season speeding off to Metropolis on a bike.

Where did he get that bike, stole it? But that was before he'd put on the ring. Maybe it belonged to Jonathan, something he was fixing up, we know he liked motorbikes. I wasn't impressed with the final shot, you'd think Clark would be speeding off in a rage, but he trundles along quite sombrely, so maybe the ring hadn't taken full effect as he was still so shell-shocked from what had happened. But it isn't the only thing I disliked about the story, a big part of that has to be Chloe, whose business it really isn't that her two friends, Clark and Lana, are together! She stomps around like everything's her business and flies off the handle when Clark won't tell her what she already knows, behaving like a spoilt child, then runs into the waiting arms of Lionel, metaphorically, to do his bidding and accept the assignment to investigate the Kents for him. Just as it shows Clark in a terrible light, not only that he turned to drugs, but also that he made such a bad decision as destroying his own ship and blowing up the storm cellar, it puts Chloe in the role of a petulant character, selfish and stupid. About the only character who gets out of the episode without blame is Pete, who doggedly tries to be a good friend as ever, and Lex, who for once, or once more, has chosen to do what's right and admit his crime to Helen of breaking into her office and stealing the vial of Clark's blood, right before their wedding.

There were a couple of things I liked about these events: one, that sense of irrelevancy and petty little day-to-day tiffs that confronts Clark just at the moment he's involved in something far, far bigger and more important - Chloe interrupts him on the way to putting Lionel's freshly minted Kryptonite key into the ship's octagonal slot, and while I feel Clark should have been more tactful and been able to think up a better pretext to get rid of her quickly, at the same time he is just a teenager, so it makes sense. That was a good part of the scene even if overall it just makes you sick to see Chloe behave so jealously and idiotically, making a fool out of herself. And I felt it was important for Lex to realise that doing good and choosing the right path doesn't mean you get what you wanted anyway (even though he does in the end!), it can mean sacrifice and loss, it doesn't make everything better, but it was still the right thing to do. It was encouraging to see a message like that, and to see Lex continuing to fight the growing drive towards evil within him, as we'd seen a number of times before, and which had made his character so compelling. As I said, in the end Helen returns and they continue with the marriage ceremony (though I don't know what happened to the big dinner we saw the rehearsal of last episode - wasn't Clark still to perform his Best Man speech, or was that it?), but even for Lex we don't end happily as he awakes on the way to his honeymoon just as his plane crashes into the ocean!

There was one other thing that stood out to me in the balance of good about the episode: Lionel being tricked by Pete and Clark so the latter can steal his key in the Kawatche caves. He's just given this smug speech about how people are at their weakest when they're angry and he loses it, almost striking young Pete, just pulling back at the last moment as he realises he's been beaten at his own game. That was priceless as we see so little truth in his character, so when he actually loses control, even for a brief moment, it's very satisfying. Something that can't be said for the rest of the episode and that neatly rounds out my experience of the series as a whole. Because I love the first season and find much to like about Season 2, but that's where it ended for me, and while I give some credit to the series for what it became in the last couple of seasons, and recognise there were occasional standout arcs and episodes in the middle seasons, for the most part it was a miserable cycle of trust and secrets, happiness and distrust, bizarre character flips and poorly thought out writing (much like the current crop of Trek series'!), so that taken as a whole I don't know that I could really recommend the series, though I would still laud Season 1 as being such a strong way to begin a series, so much potential, so much verve and panache.

That's really all there is to it - while Season 3 continues the story, is it really worth going there? I wouldn't mind seeing it again, not to write more detailed reviews as I did with these last few episodes of Season 2 that I'd previously reviewed, but just to see if my recollection of it as the worst season is justified! As for 'Exodus' it pretty much undoes all the good that had been built. Lex' life was about to be ruined, Pete would realise he couldn't help Clark, Lana and Chloe and their circular love/hate of Clark, even Jonathan and Martha and their potential 'happy ever after' comes crashing down. I must say I didn't remember how the baby storyline resolved, only that Clark never had a baby sibling. Nor did I remember what happened to the ship, and for Clark to just destroy his heritage like that… I know he was terrified Jor-El was going to do something to him or those he was close to, and now maybe he can't, but even so, it was a foolhardy thing to do. I have no idea how Jor-El was still able to communicate with him even after the destruction of the ship, but at this point, neither do I care. I'm not saying this was a terrible episode, it's certainly watchable and has some good moments as I've detailed, but it's hard to see Jonathan being more kindly and friendlier to Lex than to his own adopted son, no matter what trauma he and Martha have gone through, and it's hard to see so many characters go off the rails. Sadly, that was 'Smallville' all over, and going off the rails would become a regular occurrence. Even so, I'll always remember the series fondly for those bits it got right, it's bright colours and smiling faces, its depiction of goodness, courage and friendship, and not having it to review any more will be strange.

**

Albatross

DVD, Star Trek: The Animated Series (Albatross)

One of the least outlandish episodes of the series, this doesn't deal with wacky aliens or weird phenomena, it's about as close to a realistic example of 'TOS' as I can remember. It does become a little more 'TAS' towards the end, what with skin colour-changing viruses and auroras affecting people, but for the most part this is a serious diplomatic story: after a successful visit to Dramia, Dr. McCoy is accused of being responsible for a deadly plague on Dramia II nineteen years previous, arrested, and it's all legal. The Dramians are seven foot tall yellow gargoyles, which would seem to be in typical 'TAS' style as way-out aliens, but it's all about how you present things, not the look (something modern Trek could learn a thing or two about), and they speak in normal voices about grounded subjects such as legal ramifications and such. In short, they're aliens you can take seriously as well as being fascinating to look at. They had similarities on a superficial level to Talosians thanks to their long shape and bulbous heads (which also had significant individuality), and reminded me of some of the background aliens of later Trek (specifically one of the aliens of 'DS9' sometimes seen on the Promenade or in Quarks Bar, and also on 'Enterprise,' another Nosferatu-like gargoyle face), while being distinctive in their own right for the yellow skin colour.

Scotty's all for breaking McCoy out, which is amusing in the light of 'Star Trek V,' coming fifteen years later, wherein Scotty was the one who did perform an actual jailbreak to rescue Kirk, Spock and McCoy from the Enterprise's Bridge! It also gave a different complexion to McCoy's annoyed line at the end when he tells Kirk if he's ever in jail again don't send that Vulcan to release him, just let him rot, and even expresses dismay at the time, actually saying 'it's a jailbreak,' to Spock! But it does have a serious side, too, as McCoy is doubting himself, feeling guilty that maybe he was responsible for this plague that killed so many and wants to go through with the trial. It's mentioned that Dramian trials and justice aren't the best (which makes you wonder why the Federation is friendly towards them), or something along those lines, but he doesn't seem to care in the worries of his conscience about even the possibility. It's reassuring to see someone go through a crisis of confidence like that, ready to cast himself upon apparent justice if there's even the possibility he did something wrong, an inspiring attitude so different to most people today who would do whatever it took to avoid accepting guilt and wriggle out of punishment, and shows how much the doctor cares for his patients and profession.

Kirk starts out very accepting of the legality of the situation that the Dramians have taken McCoy into custody, but of course he's keen to do some investigating of his own, which is when he starts to be more open to bending the rules or tricking Dramians to get at the truth - when Commander Deemos trails them he allows him to get aboard clandestinely so as to trap him and complete his objective, which is to visit Dramia II and find evidence. This is where the series betrays its more simplistic writing for a child's audience: would Deemos not be suspicious when the Enterprise's Hangar doors open while they're travelling in space, just in time for him to enter? And what about sensors, both internal and external, does he not realise how sensitive and aware a Starfleet starship is? No matter, the important thing is to find out whether McCoy really is responsible or not, and they find an ally on the planet, Kol-ti, who survived the plague and remembers the doctor with affection for curing him of Saurian virus (perhaps the same thing we see in 'Discovery' when Linus the Saurian was first introduced?). He reasons that a man that would cure would not also destroy (though he's forgetting it could be a mistake on McCoy's part rather than deliberate).

I wondered why they were giving so many seconds to a shot of the Enterprise travelling through this brightly coloured aurora on the way back to Dramia, putting it down to simply saving on budget by making the shot last as long as possible, but it comes up as a plot point a little later. This is where Spock also bends the rules, well, actually he flat out breaks them in a rescue of McCoy, since the whole crew have gone down with the plague. This is also where it comes closest to being much more 'TAS,' with everyone but Spock going blue (Vulcans being immune), then eventually green as they succumb. Spock's put in charge and orders 'General Order 6' which means the ship will self-destruct twenty-four hours after the crew have died to prevent anyone else from catching it. Unsurprisingly, this particular General Order was never used in canon Trek, the closest being the best known Order 1 (the Prime Directive of noninterference), and Order 7, preventing anyone from contacting Talos IV, with the only death penalty sanctioned in the Federation as punishment (totally ignored in 'DSC'), but I like that they include some Trek speak like this to further ground the episode in its own universe.

Spock performs his one man rescue mission (using a nerve pinch on the guard), McCoy agreeing to return to the ship to cure this plague, in the process realising the aurora was responsible, not him, and using Saurian virus to take out the plague, happily. Everyone but Spock and McCoy change colour - though the doctor also changes, but it's not part of the story: in the Transporter Room at the end he's shown wearing a gold shirt instead of his correct Medical blue, as they occasionally (and bizarrely), do by mistake for various characters throughout this series. It's a pretty conventional story, but is one of those that functions correctly, shows the crew doing what a crew is supposed to, rather than being sarcastic or insubordinate, they're members of a team doing their duty soberly and sensibly. These are core values of Trek too often missing from the current generation of TV series' and it's worrying that a children's cartoon from the Seventies with a limited budget can get it more right than the most up to date writing and prestige production of today!

The whole crew is present and correct, well, not M'Ress, but Arex, though he doesn't speak, and nor does Nurse Chapel, but nice to see her. As ever, James Doohan takes on some of the guest voices as the Supreme Prefect of Dramia and Kol-ti, but not Deemos or the prison guard, I think. Uhura and Sulu both get lines from their usual stations on the Bridge, so it does end up feeling like a 'TOS' episode. They even use one of the upper screens on the Bridge, which I always like to see, giving new depth to the technology that sometimes seemed stationary. I wouldn't say it was among the finest of 'TAS' stories, but I appreciated its largely serious subject matter, the aliens are good designs and there's a frisson of history, though I'd have liked to have learned more about McCoy's past, such as what ship he was serving on nineteen years before, even if it wasn't actually canon - had it been a 'TOS' episode with greater running time I suspect they'd have included a little more detail. The title comes from the idea of an albatross hanging round someone's neck, guilt they can't shake off, from 'The Rime of The Ancient Mariner' by Coleridge, so there are even poetic allusions, however basic.

**

A Cage For Satan

DVD, BUGS S2 (A Cage For Satan)

Then it was all over. Well, not quite all, as thanks to the BBC's quick reaction to the success of the first ever episode, 'BUGS' was commissioned for a further two years right from the start, meaning whatever they did with Season 2 they were guaranteed at least a 3. There is some kind of irony in the fact that if it had been left to one season at a time for recommissioning, the series probably wouldn't have been brought back after this second year because it hadn't rated quite as well, with a lot of that put down to a greater degree of science fiction in the tone and style, something deliberately pulled back from in Season 3 (and perhaps the arc structure of the main story, requiring a little more commitment than complete episodic structure). And yet it was the third season's finale which would be a sequel to this finale's cliffhanger, that boosted the number sufficiently for a surprise fourth season to be commissioned (something they tried, unsuccessfully, with the end of that season, too!). Cyberax, or Jean-Daniel, may have been responsible for their nemeses' demise after all, except that their legacy was to give the series another lifeline. The vagaries of television… I'd actually forgotten entirely that this episode had a cliffhanger. We get the usual scene of happiness with the team laughing and joking together, if somewhat more subdued than usual thanks to the comatose fate of Roland, Ros' friend and Bureau Chief, they leave his hospital bed, then he flashes open his eyes… duh, duh, duuuurrrr!

An overarching plot may not have been as much to the general viewers' tastes at that time in the mid-to-late Nineties, when Saturday night TV was meant to be throwaway, light stuff (as it still is!), but for those hooked on the series (myself, for example), it was the ideal form - you had the best of both worlds, able to tell contained, individual stories, while also tying in to something grander that required developing and concluding, and it really comes into its own when the DVDs were your only source of viewing the series again, as well as showing how much continuity there was across the run as a whole. It's also fascinating to watch it in one run through because you notice how each season differed from the others. In Season 2 I felt Ros out of the characters, often came across as quite withdrawn or unemotional for the most part, whereas she'd been much more expressive in the first season, so I wonder if Jaye Griffiths was reacting to criticism? Or maybe the greater sci-fi tone that came in meant she felt she should be more subdued. It doesn't hold for Jesse Birdsall and Craig McLachlan, whose characters stayed the same, though Ed is much more tech savvy this season, no longer standing in for the audience who may not have been aware of much of the technology of computing and bugging, but, like Ed, had presumably been brought up to speed.

With this last two-parter of the season it was clear the series had turned a corner and become much more than it had originally been designed to be. It can seem far-fetched that Ros, whose friendship with Ed and Beckett had seemed so strong for so long, should be strained to the point she could believe they might be working against her, and there are things about Stephen Gallagher's script that don't bear as close a scrutiny as usual as he raced to the finishing line of the season, but Ros' predicament, or more specifically, her friends' predicament of not being able to tell her what's going on or they'd be condemning her to death, was a masterstroke. Would Ros go to JD for help when she knows he always wanted revenge upon those who incarcerated him, so how much more would he want that revenge when he's locked up again, for life? Or that her friends wouldn't be doing what they could to help her, unless there was nothing they could do. But in reality of course it wouldn't occur to anyone that their brain may have been infected with 'a time bomb ticking in your mind,' as Ed so aptly put it, merely knowing it was there enough to set it off. So with Roland missing, and presumably no one from the Bureau available, with her files removed and her friends whispering behind her back, what could she think?

I had forgotten what happened to JD, that he'd been taken to the Ultimax prison in Technopolis and sentenced to spending forty-six of any forty-eight hour period in unconsciousness, a solution that does seem, as Ros said, inhumane. The justification is that these are the worst offenders, the 'extreme social deviants' of all nations, and that in their dreams they're free. This sounds as hollow as the promotional videos that present Technopolis and Technopolis Tower as these attractive modern ideals, but in the typically cheesy marketing way. Can they control the brain patterns of the inmates, has technology got that far? Otherwise they may be living in nightmares, which some might say is what they deserve, but again, would be inhumane. There's no chance for parole, nothing for them to exist for, they may as well be dead. They practically are dead. But this is all part of the Technopolis dream. It seems the nations of the world have supported that dream insofar as they're happy to export their criminals to it, like Australia when it was the new world, but judging by the lack of people this is as much as they're willing to invest in, the vast majority of companies invited to the grand opening of the Tower not deigning to turn up (so Ros has the pick of hotel rooms - but surely asking for the Cyberax suite would be a mistake as that's the one that will be occupied, won't it, or was she actually ordering champagne there as a way of getting inside?). It's not even clear if there are any other prisoners, JD is the only one we see, so it could all be mere advertising spiel the warden spouts so proudly.

Technopolis is a ghost town, a blank slate, which appears to have no real future judging by what we see. They have extreme levels of enforcement, with armed and armoured soldiers available on instant demand, showing they keep their security very seriously, suggesting the mindset of a fascistic state (and oddly, everyone there speaks in English accents). Or it may simply be that with Cyberax in all the systems, Ed and Beckett were branded terrorists who should be shot on sight. How Beckett managed to smuggle explosives aboard an aircraft in order to get into this place shows how clever he is (and that this was before the 11 September attacks on America), each of the team have great skill that if they were to use for personal gain or turn on the others, would prove a real challenge, just as Ros proves to them, decking Beckett with a single punch and locking him and Ed in the hotel room, just as she'd previously padlocked them into the basement of Gizmos (still never named on screen as such), this episode, despite mostly taking place in Central Europe, giving us our best look yet at the red-walled HQ which wouldn't return the following year, sadly, despite how swish and modern it looked, visually marking how successful the business had been for them. Ed and Beckett being locked in wasn't the only parallel plot point, we also have another person being punched out (JD by Beckett at the site of the human processor room), and two people killed, then brought back. Poor Dr. Briggs and his assistant from part one, if only the same treatment had been given to them…

Mind you, Ros only halted her walk into 'the light' of death because Beckett called her back to him, something that wouldn't have worked with the others! I know that sequence can be seen as silly and cheesy, but I've always found it to be really affecting - that Ros was pretty much gone, but the voice of her friend could call her back, and she turns and smiles, it's really well staged and was probably the hardest part of the whole story to visualise, because how do you show approaching death? That ending and the cliffhanger after it are the best things about the episode. I don't feel there was as much horror about the idea of human microchips as when we were first introduced to the idea in part one, the closest we come to a chilling moment is when Beckett stumbles upon the room full of comatose victims from the Bureau and there are three more beds waiting for him and his team, like coffins to be filled… Cyberax clearly wanted them alive, and it's even stated in dialogue, so why was it trying to tell Ros its true nature when she's in the hotel room? Other than the obvious wish to have some drama with Beckett charging in and smashing the screen! It could also be pointed out that once Ros has heard the trigger from Beckett and uttered the fateful final words of Cyberax victims, she doesn't rush off and kill herself but sort of stands around. This could be because she has such a strong mind and her will was still intact for a few moments longer than others, since she tells Ed it's not too late.

This line of reasoning is bolstered by the encounter Ed and Beckett have with her former tutor at the Science Faculty, Dr. Talbot, another great mind, another willing to sacrifice himself to get us closer to defeating Cyberax. That whole sequence was great: sinister and hopeless, but a real sacrifice. Instead of having a way to commit suicide, Talbot has locked himself in a room, but he still destroys the Cyberax device, then sinks back, his body intact, but his mind gone. What was the plan? He says the devices are in every institution in the land, so did they need more minds or were they thinking of future expansion when the Bureau's people were no longer enough to contain the virus? JD's plan seems to be some kind of world domination in all but name, telling Cyberax if he wants an army, a government or a nation it will provide it or it will die. By then, having come back from the dead when his cell monitors flatline thanks to it all being connected to Cyberax, he's much more erratic, the experience hasn't helped him become more sane, it's lost him his sinister calmness. With the Cyberax issue of technology being spread around as Trojan horses, it's even more relevant to today when cyber-warfare is more common than physical combat, both Russian and Chinese forces attacking the West, and the West continuing to seek a technologically dependent society, perhaps to our doom? There have been events just like this one where foreign companies have been selling technology to us which may include security nullifying code and infrastructure in their products or software, by which they could one day take control.

It's frightening stuff, but back then it was much more in the realm of fiction than reality (the same for image recognition which is also a dangerous reality), but then 'BUGS' was ahead of its time: both in theoretical sense and in the idea that it was the near future. Now of course it doesn't look futuristic, but at the time they always had incredibly fast computers when consumer tech was severely limited, a wealth of gadgets, most developed by Ros, giving them the edge when it came to those who would abuse technology for their own ends. In some ways it's surprising how watchable the series remains because although much of what we see is outdated (you can always tell a TV series' age by the computer monitors, especially), it didn't rely solely on wowing viewers with tech, it was the friendships and teamwork of the main three that made them so likeable and a joy to spend time with. This season there'd definitely been a concerted effort to give them a more stylish edge, mainly in the clothing, also in the smart environs from which they worked. The vehicles they used were part of that, though Ros' yellow car dated to early in the first season. While the Jeep (there right at the start of the series), would continue to be used in Season 3, this was the end of that car, sadly (in the previous episode as it doesn't appear in this one), though it was probably the only one she ever owned that didn't get blown up or smashed at some point. Perhaps she donated it to a motor museum before that could happen, as a tribute to its faithfulness?

This episode you notice more going on with the clothing than usual. They start out in the same outfits from part one, showing it's coming right after, then when Ros has made her decision to visit JD and get some answers she's changed into a red jacket, as if she means business now, or like a warning that she's getting warmer, closer to the solution that is a danger signal. Beckett changes to a yellow shirt and Ed to a blue one, and by the end when they're all back together in one shot, standing side by side, they represent the primary colours, red, yellow and blue, as if they've come back together and things are as they were. I don't know if this was intentional or simply a side effect of the kind of bright clothing they always wore that were part of the distinctively optimistic colour palette of the series, but it has been fascinating to follow the looks across the episodes and what it could denote. The direction was once again mostly impressive, especially earlier in the episode with great shots like Ros talking to someone we can't see as the camera swings around her, until finally resting on Dr. Talbot, or the beautifully framed moment when she and Ed meet on opposing escalators, speaking in the middle of a diamond. Later, either because the story becomes more dramatic so there's less time to focus on the look, things didn't seem quite so neat and tidy, but in places it showed real creativity - I loved the lighting of JD's cell, black, except for this single light from above.

The big question is about the villains. Did they survive the blast from Beckett's bomb? He only has a few paces on them before the server room goes up and manages to escape, we don't see how close they were to the blast, only the aftermath of their blackened bodies lying on the floor. The thing is, during Season 3 we learn JD's body was never recovered - if we hadn't seen the bodies then we might have assumed they'd been disintegrated in the explosion, but we don't have that luxury. Could JD have somehow crawled away and survived? Would Cassandra have tried to shield him in some way? I can certainly imagine him using her as a shield if he had time, especially in his erratic frame of mind compared to the careful and considered villain he'd been. Then there's the ending of Season 4 where a chauffeur kidnaps Ros and Beckett, and that's the persona we first met him in at the start of 'Pulse.' I think most people who really followed the series really wanted it to be him. I'm not saying a Season 5 would have been more likely if Gareth Marks had made a cameo at the end, I suspect most casual viewers probably weren't that bothered either way, but it would have been better for us fanatics! And what was Cassandra's connection to her boss: gratitude for saving her life, desire for the riches and power she saw he was capable of winning?

You actually feel a level of sympathy for Cyberax by the end, even though you know its end goal would have been to survive and JD's lesson in having the hold of death over it would have likely taught it to be even more ruthless in its quest. That's why Roland was so terrifying as the personification of Cyberax later - there's no more cute CG head any more. The gradual changes in that head were nicely done to show its continuing development: at first it's just a baby, then it's a full-grown head, then it speaks through ripples in its forehead and gains blinking eyes. The design was strong, even though it was relatively crude, it shows what was possible with computer graphics even back then. Cyberax wasn't the only graphic example as Technopolis Tower itself was a real building except for the upper part, which was an extension added by graphics. Though the place was still filmed in Canary Wharf, they did a good job of selling it as this empty, nondescript, anonymous city, whose only denizens seem to be either law enforcement that come out on cue, or statues, even while using certain buildings we'd seen before - the tubular dark glass building had been Kamen & Ross in 'Down Among The Dead Men,' for example. Even some of the internal sets weren't above being reused, as Dr. Talbot's glass partition looks suspiciously like the STA observation area which was also used in 'Bugged Wheat,' though this time Beckett makes an end of it by smashing his way through. Even the mainframe footage from 'Pulse' gets another airing as part of the Technopolis videos, already seen in 'Blackout' earlier this season.

Cleverly, we see JD as part of the construction coordination on the video, which suggests his plans have been very long term. Who knows when these buildings were built, but it must have been more than a year ago, which would put it before 'Pulse' when we first saw him. Suddenly, the wrongheadedness of Technopolis makes more sense when you think such an evil brain may have been integral to its fruition… I appreciate the subtlety of things like that, the same way we never hear the episode title spoken in this episode (it was mentioned in 'The Bureau of Weapons'), or JD unexpectedly saying "Baa," when Cassandra goes off to carry out his bidding, tying back to his comment in the previous episode: "Women are sheep." He was a truly great villain, almost inarguably the best of the series, not just for his relative longevity, but for the suave and deadly manners and that you never knew quite what he'd do. If he had continued as the more unstable version we saw following his death and revival, I don't think he'd have been anywhere near as compelling, but he would never be forgotten as long as the series lasted. Cassandra, too, worked well, though she had a lot less development than in her debut episode and had become merely a lackey by this point.

This episode, coming as it does at the end of, basically, a trilogy, with 'Schrodinger's Bomb' being the opening part, is not quite as strong as the other two. Maybe this is because Gallagher had to gather up all the pieces to tie up the season and JD arc, so there were less creative opportunities, maybe it's because things had to be wrapped up quickly. But we never fully understand why Ros should go rogue on so little evidence after they'd been through so much together. A line about the virus eating into your sanity could have solved that, adding paranoia to the already real conspiracy against her finding out the truth. But despite any flaws in the telling it remains a rip-roaring ride and is still one of the best episodes of the series. It's a shame to say goodbye to this season as it's the one that has always meant the most to me for being where I joined it, an essential part of late childhood. At the same time I'm ready for the more naturalistic, slightly more character focused direction of Season 3, and it really does make it a different experience watching the whole series through in one continuous run.

****

Calling (2)

DVD, Smallville S2 (Calling) (2)

A very confusing episode in light of future revelations. I don't remember Season 3 well enough to be sure, but I'm under the impression Helen was working for Lionel, who planted her to get at Lex, to be his own personal spy in his son's midst, I suppose. Yet in this episode he talks with her as if they don't know each other (unless that was staged for the Mansion's security cameras…?). And again, he's later revealed to know all about Clark and was part of a group looking after the secret, or something along those lines, and yet… Sometimes an episode can be coloured by subsequent knowledge and events, and while I liked this one well enough in the past, I don't think it works as well today. On top of the confusion, not a lot is happening as this is the first of a two-parter, and as well as that we have a lot of teen romance that was exactly the kind of thing I imagined the series would be before I saw it, and which put me off in the first place! It's enough that Clark and Lana are gooey-eyed over each other, and then Lana gets worried about it, but they also have to throw in the constantly jealous Chloe who apparently stalks them now to see if they'll smooch. Come on, she's better than that! I know she's just had a run in with Lionel and made an enemy of him by refusing to spy on the Kents (I suppose the senior Luthor isn't a subscriber to Apple technology since the computers he's donated to the Torch look like ordinary PCs, even if they are aping Apple iMac colours!), but still…

One good thing does come out of the episode, and that was the Dr. Walden storyline being concluded, although even that was over a bit too easily and simplistically: he's read Clark's destiny of world domination and now he somehow has powers to kill him. The whys, hows, or wherefores, we know not, it just is. That's comic books for you, there doesn't have to be rhyme or reason just as long as there's spectacle. Not that there's much of that either, Walden is burned up by his own mistake in hitting a fuel container that then explodes. We're reminded of where the spaceship's key is, or was, as Clark was keeping it in the barn until Walden steals it, then Clark takes it back from his hot, dead hand. A hand Lionel wants boxed up and sent to him, please. Why? It's hard to watch the series with Lionel as the villain because it's uncertain if he is, from future seasons, so I just don't know what to think. I didn't even understand what this rehearsal dinner was all about - was it a dress rehearsal for the actual wedding reception? It just seemed odd, maybe it's an American thing.

I think the whole thing just put me off, and once again we have the same flaws of certain characters barely being there. Pete looked like he needed a scene with Chloe explaining herself. He needed something. What it did remind me is how long he's actually been in the season! I genuinely believed he left within the first few episodes after learning Clark's secret and finding it was too tough to be constantly on the ball about it. I must be remembering Season 3, perhaps that's another reason why I didn't like that one and consider it the worst year of the series, it's certainly where I stopped watching on original transmission. But it's no surprise I forgot Pete was in most of this season because he hardly ever is, and he almost never gets any meaningful scenes, so I can see why the actor wanted to leave - for all the money he must have got for the role, he no doubt expected to be challenged a little in the acting department! And Chloe's only there to act miserable because Clark hearts Lana, which is hardly new news. At least she did come to the barn and try and make up, make up, never, never break up, by suggesting he could come back and work for the Torch. But I don't know if this is Chloe being genuine, Chloe trying to pry into what went on between him and Lana, or the writers back-peddling, thinking they'd be doing another season next year so maybe it wasn't such a good idea to write Clark off the Torch.

However you look at it, it's more laying down of the building blocks that would make the series so hard to like from Season 3 on, with the countless circular fallings out, friends again, another issue crops up, just this miserable, irritating round of unhappiness that blighted the series and took away its brightness, chirpiness and joy. It should be no surprise this was written by Ken Biller, a name I learned not to respect from his days as show-runner on the last year or two of 'Voyager,' where he kept that series safe, secure and far from reaching its full potential. I'm not accusing him of never writing a good episode, I haven't paid enough attention to his specific writing credits (plus that's only a guide, many writers will have input on scripts they didn't get credited for), it's just that the two series' I've seen him take a hand in have been ones that I loved and then went downhill…

But back to this episode: Lex and Helen are about as shaky as Clark and Lana, both the females getting concerned and cold feet, which is tough to understand, especially for Helen's case. If it was all a ruse to manipulate Lex then why would there be all this back and forth, just to clear any suspicions Lex may have had? And why did he take that particular vial of blood, I certainly don't recall that storyline's conclusion in future episode's. If it had one, it may simply have been dropped and we're meant to forget about it. Lex isn't an idiot and any fool could see Clark was lying when he claimed not to be able to read the language of the Kawatche caves, it's become laughable that Lex believes him, or that Clark believes he's fooling him. The series became stunted because of these things that they focused on too much. And I never really understand about Lana and Clark talking about the fact he has secrets. He doesn't even deny it. What secret could a teenage boy have that are so terrible he keeps them to himself? It's just pushing the suspension of disbelief to new limits of destruction!

There was one good thing about the episode, and that was the chill that creeps up your neck when you hear Terence Stamp's voice as Jor-El and the strains of the well known Superman theme play. I knew Clark was going into that storm cellar and we wouldn't find out what was going to happen until the next episode, because that's the most dramatic way you could end. Even though the episode had a surfeit of endings with various characters. It's just hard to identify with so many of the characters now or the direction they took through this season. I do like that Lex has got to a point that he can invite both Jonathan and Martha to his special meal in the place of honour of his parents, and that they even accept, and it was good to see a little more of them than we have done in some recent episodes, but it still reminds me of the days when they'd become merely there for the occasional scene of cheerleading or advice, with none of their own story. Yes, there's the dead end of Martha's pregnancy, to which I don't recall the conclusion, but which obviously wasn't good. But I haven't liked the way the cast has been handled in general, one reason it became a slightly lesser series after the great Season 1, and then dropped off a cliff for me in Season 3. This was the middle ground and they've had their good moments and periods, but reevaluating this particular episode has led me to conclude that it doesn't work as well as I thought in light of the bigger picture.

**

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess

GameCube, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess (2006) game

By my count I make this the eleventh entry in the series after two NES games, a SNES version, three Game Boy entries, two on N64 and two previous on GameCube, not counting the 'unofficial' Philips CDi contributions, of course. It's a fine line to walk between continuing a long-running series by giving the players what they want and expect, and at the same time innovating. By this stage of proceedings they were pretty much going to be hamstrung unless they could have come up with something so vast, so involving, and so tied in to the series' history, that it could blow the green tights off even the most jaded would-be elf boy adventurer. The Wii was not built to do that, it was designed as an antidote to the growing problem of blooming game budgets, lengthy development periods and inaccessibility to the non-gamer. So in one sense it's rather strange that this should have been hurriedly converted from a 'Cube game to an early Wii title. In another sense it's not strange at all as Nintendo must have realised that, 1) they needed a big game to get the Wii selling in the absence of Mario, and 2) their long-developed opus might well be trampled underfoot in the rush for next generation machines if they only released it on 'Cube. But I'm not here to talk about the Wii version, I'm here to express gratitude for Nintendo's wise choice not to abandon the original 'Cube release or I may not have played it at all, and certainly not until the last couple of years when I got my Wii!

The issue of staleness still stands, however, even with the GameCube game. I applaud Nintendo managing to get two titles in the series out in a single console generation because 'Zelda' has always demanded a long development process thanks to it generally being the biggest and most carefully considered series on whichever console it graces. In many ways, 'Twilight Princess' was a reaction to criticisms levelled at previous instalment, 'The Wind Waker,' known for being the shortest and most cartoonish example in the series to that point, and not pleasing those who'd been geared up for a 'photorealistic' sprawling update to the 'Ocarina of Time' style with the latest graphics and gameplay, based on the demo that had been shown when presenting the 'Cube as the Next Exciting Console. In my eyes the 'Cube never lived up to the promise laid down by the N64 era (still my favourite console of all time), which was a truly revolutionary time with the move into three dimensions, the greater engagement of story and action, and the sweeping grandeur of it all. As fun as 'Wind Waker' was, sailing across barren oceans was never going to be an improvement on riding your horse (which in 'Twilight' you could even name, thus giving you an instant bond), so that was the first change. And while the visuals weren't going to be genuinely photorealistic, they did choose to make them realistic rather than the expressive cartoon cel-shading that had been so divisive.

With 'Twilight' they made sure to design a long experience with a large over-world and plenty to do. And yet… even with all these improvements… and even at the time it came out, Christmas 2006, there was some kind of nagging concern that all was not quite as it should have been. We come back to that tightrope walk again, and they weren't really able to make 'Twilight' different enough. They didn't even try to connect it to previous mythology (something the series has often seemed comfortable avoiding in favour of the gameplay experience, rather than conforming the game to fit the history), which isn't really a problem, but for someone like me who grew up with the 'Star Trek' universe and all its interconnectedness and beautifully constructed chronology (despite being produced by myriad creatives across various decades), I admire a well put together mythic history. Nowadays of course, Trek has seen fit to follow the 'Zelda' template rather than the other way around, caring less about continuity and more about whatever the latest big story is and so losing its uniqueness and becoming like any other comic book pulp sci-fi. And perhaps the same could be said for 'Zelda' (at least at that time, I can't comment on the series after 'Twilight' as I have yet to play any), that it had become like A.N.Other adventure game, for all its polish and the great minds of Nintendo behind it.

The trouble with the N64 period was that it was a time of great revelation and revolution in gaming - the shackles were off and they were only bound by the limitations of the machine rather than their imaginations. Almost anything could be done at that time, but since then things had tended toward repetition of this admittedly great formula, and 'Zelda' was no exception. That's why there are so few games I would count as truly great on the 'Cube - there were undoubtedly many good games, and also some new forms of gaming such as that seen with 'Super Monkey Ball,' 'Conflict: Desert Storm' or 'Hitman.' New experiences, if sometimes flawed. With 'Zelda' the world was expecting big things - forget the world, I was expecting big things and I was never fully satisfied on the system, which, crossed with my disinterest in gimmick-focused gameplay such as the Wii seemed to be promising, led me to abandon contemporary gaming in favour of returning to the past in which I continue to revel to this day, though I'm a little more open to modern games than I was then. All this to say that I liked 'Twilight,' but didn't love it, and subsequently never replayed it, watched anyone else play it, or had any further use for it, unlike 'Ocarina,' for example, or 'Link's Awakening,' two games that were seminal experiences for me and that I played or shared various times.

In keeping with my wish for continuity I'd been playing various games in the series over each Christmas, one year at a time ('Majora's Mask,' 'Wind Waker,' 'Four Swords'), and this last Christmas was finally the time to crack open 'Twilight' and if not reevaluate it, at least re-complete it! I can't say it was a better experience this time, but I can say I enjoyed it just as much, perhaps slightly more, I don't know, but the fact I remembered so little of it meant that it was at least a fresh experience and one that I found pretty engaging. I went into it with slightly negative preconceptions, but after all it is a 'Zelda' game, and that means quality, even if not to the level of the best in the series. Perhaps I was also already in the mode of thought for it having played 'Metroid Prime 3' just before it, although at the same time that game made me realise it was a streamlined version of the 'Zelda' experience, with less of the tracking about aimlessly or going back and forth. In 'Twilight's defence it was much more helpful in that regard, you always had a hint waiting if you were stuck, thanks to Midna, your Navi-like assistant, maps were clearly marked, and while the game was big you never felt out of your depth or presented with too many options or things to keep track of. Maybe there was too little, I don't know.

On the other gauntlet there was far too much busywork seemingly designed to extend game length rather than being a fun or satisfying task in itself - a case in point would be collecting the 'tears' before you can get into each of the first three dungeons, that really did appear to be nothing more than an extension of tasks to stave off the anticipated entry into the next dungeon. It took me eighty-eight hours to complete originally so I was focused on beating that time, which I thought should be pretty easy since I hadn't been playing to get through quickly before, and I smashed it, coming in about sixty-four hours, though I spent another ten hours searching for the last few Poes, which was ultimately a bit of a waste of time. But the game did what I wanted of it, provided something to absorb me for days on end, and if some tasks were unnecessarily chore-like, the game was rarely dull. Perhaps the size and scope of the dungeons wasn't as impressive as the over-world might have suggested, but even that isn't quite the vast landscape it seems, chopped up into manageable chunks, presumably so the 'Cube didn't blow up with all the demands on its processor. Also, I came to know every patch of ground intimately from my self-imposed quest to track down every last Poe, so that colours the overall impression of size, too.

It must be a real nightmare trying to come up with a new theme for a dungeon in this series because so many have been done. Typically they tend to stick to the forest, fire and water themes for most, but they did try some different ideas, such as one that takes place in the actual Temple of Time, one within a ruined castle in the snow, and one up in the clouds. This last, Sky City of the Oocca, was one of my least favourite as I never like falls into nothingness, I prefer contained environments. It does have me concerned that the next game in the series, 'Skyward Sword' (the first Wii exclusive entry), will take place in this kind of world, especially as I've been given a negative impression of it, but that's to discover this Christmas when I tackle it! The environments were generally the usual tropes of the series: desert (though no Gerudo, surprisingly), snow, Goron's mountain, Zora's watery domain, the forest land in which you begin, not to mention Castle Town and the surrounding fields of Hyrule. It's not that the world's badly designed, it's just that it's not going to have the same impact these places did when I first encountered them in 'Ocarina,' as when the world was new. How can you give players something new and unique, while still paying tribute to, and being part of, such a legacy? I don't have the answer, and I suppose to some extent there is the gift of nostalgia in that they reuse some of the familiar music, such as that for the Gorons, Zoras, or Lost Woods.

At the same time, while it does hold a special place, it's just reiterating that this game isn't the one you played and loved all those years before. On this play I didn't mind so much because I came in with relatively low expectations, remembering I hadn't enjoyed this one as much, but also because I'm less familiar with this particular game. I came without the hype of the time which made me think it was going to be an amazing game, coming so late in the 'Cube's lifespan, with so much preparation, and with so many lessons learned from 'Wind Waker.' I did still find it a little hard to get into, just as I probably experienced before - you're not Link, or connected to him, there isn't a sense of when this fits in the timeline, or that it necessarily is even in the same 'universe,' just a new game using the same styles, types of character, etc. Sure, there are little references here or there that are pleasing (such as Malo and Talo, which comes from Malon and Talon in 'Ocarina,' which comes from Marin and Tarin in 'Link's Awakening'), but I would have preferred some deep connectivity. Not that it would have improved the gameplay, which is fine, but might have made me more excited about being in that world.

I have to say that sometimes it was simply pleasant to be in the world - I stayed up into the night on occasion, and there's nothing like swimming around in the dark depths of Lake Hylia, for example, for that special solitary feeling late at night. And solving the puzzles was as much satisfaction as you'd hope it would be. A criticism could be levelled that this is the easiest 'Zelda' so far, but part of that is that it remains true to its origins and so the puzzles don't tend to vary too much from previous iterations, and if you've played as many games in the series as I have, then of course it seems easier. At the same time I still think it genuinely is easier, the bosses didn't take too much thought or skill to defeat, and even the end wasn't that challenging, but then that was a trend towards accessibility that I believe has continued the more games companies realised that giving the general customer what they want nets them more money than catering to those who are experienced. In some cases this was appreciated, such as the addition of Oocco, whom allows you to exit a dungeon and warp back to that exact spot to avoid pointless travel, and once you can transform into a wolf you can warp to various places in the over-world, which also saves time and you're never really at a loss for how to proceed. Even so, I did get stuck briefly a couple of times, such as missing a simple switch in the water dungeon, or not being able to work out how to pull the switch in the fan room of Sky City, but I got there in the end!

I spent plenty of time on the side quests, such as the Cave of Ordeals where you have to fight increasingly tough enemies as you descend further and further (another idea recycled from 'Zeldas' past), racing the yeti man on a snowboard icicle, playing such skill games as rollerball (manoeuvring a metal ball round a wooden maze without falling off, much like 'Monkey Ball'), the hookshot game, shooting jars downriver, or flying into giant pieces of fruit upriver (!), all of which were enjoyable diversions from the main story and were certainly a challenge. And of course, searching out all the glowing bugs, the heart pieces (inflation means you now need five parts rather than the traditional four, but you have the advantage of a 'fortune teller' to hint where they may be, if needed), and the Poes. As I said, that last one took me well beyond finishing the game, and I was still thwarted. I was pleased to beat my previous record of fifty-two, but the reason I carried on with the search for so long, to the point I was getting bored, was because I'd got down to the last three or four and then I found the others in quick succession which gave me hope I could track down that elusive final one for full completion. But alas, I searched and searched to no avail until I finally decided I wasn't going to find it so I checked a guide (only because I'd officially finished playing), and discovered it was in a place I'd already searched, but hadn't found because I didn't do a specific thing at night, so I was relieved in a way because I knew I'd never have found it. Maybe if I play it again in another fifteen years…

I often find it a struggle to get into a new game, especially narrative-driven ones, because it seems to take ages before you're actually doing anything worthwhile or getting that desired sense of achievement, and I didn't feel this game had the most auspicious start. For example, after I'd been taught to herd goats you then need to find a cat and get it to go home, but unlike other animals in the game (like cuccos), you can't simply pick it up, and if you try to herd it back home it won't go over the bridge. All games have these counterintuitive parts to fit the story or the game world, such as being able to do incredible things, yet you can't jump up and grab a ledge that's much higher than you are! But that's part of gaming convention, it's just that things like that being ironed out or presented better might have shown this to be a game that was developing the genre, not simply continuing it. While on the subject of things that irritated, I have to mention Midna, whose constant yells and chatter of chirpy noises weren't exactly music to the ear. The little clink of the chain on your wolf form's foreleg, as unobtrusive as it was, got under my skin so that I really wished, with all the magic and abilities shown by both you and Midna, such a thing could be taken off! Especially annoying when searching for bugs since they would make a similar bell-like sound, one of those little aggravations which put me off.

I also have to say I don't like the direction the series has been going in with regard to more emphasis on gods and goddesses, demons and magic. Granted, these things have always been there to some extent, but they used to be skirted and a lot less evident since Nintendo is primarily a family focused company, but this was the most egregious in its use of suspect supernatural content, making such things appeal to the young and encouraging the idea that they're acceptable and normal in entertainment, rather than to be avoided as leading to harmful interests. Another minor quibble would be that there's no ability to 'scan' things as there were in past games so you learn the names of the monsters or things you encounter. I really missed Navi in that regard, and Midna, with her arrogant mien and mocking attitude, under the category of 'playful,' just irritated, no matter how much pity you have for her. And maybe this was misremembering, but it seemed the camera controls weren't inverted on the horizontal, so didn't feel as intuitive, turning the camera left if you flick the C-stick left, for example. And I didn't feel there was as much of a bond with your horse as there was before, despite the fact you name it yourself. It's because once you're a wolf you don't really need it, and unlike the other animals you can't talk to it - now that could have been interesting… It is fascinating to see elements developing towards where the series would go in future, such as greater rapport with animals, or sky-based lands.

Lessened expectations do make it a better experience, it's certainly technically tidy, the graphics are sometimes beautiful with an excellent draw distance and no fogging meaning you can see for miles, one example of its place in the advance of technology, as you'd expect from Nintendo, the character models nicely weighty and detailed. And there is plenty to divert attention as you travel around: what could be in that cave, or down that hole, inaccessible areas to tantalise, the usual 'Zelda' formula. It's strange not having a musical instrument, so, erm… instrumental to previous games, but one example where they tried to be different instead of following all the old ways: wolf howling could have been something that was developed a little more as a toy to play with, such as climbing to the top of a mountain and letting rip a mournful song as the sun sets, but there you're a little curbed by only being able to do it at certain spots in the same way as, at first, you can only call your horse (Sandworm, I named it this time!), to you where there's a specific plant. Limitations placed on the player are often necessary, but can also seem unfair or arbitrary and that tightrope also extends to freedom and parcelling out rewards or progress. Largely the game has a good balance, even if it takes much from its own past innovation, such as the shadow world which dates back to 'A Link To The Past,' or changing into other creatures, a key part of 'Majora.'

The biggest change, other than wolf transformation, is relatively minor, and comes from its Wii intentions: the item select wheel, much like the weapons wheel of 'Turok.' It does take some getting used to, the number of times I pressed start and found myself in the option screen where you can see your tally of bugs, poes, heart pieces and other things, instead of going to the wheel when I wanted to select a different item of weapon, often in the heat of battle… It's also easy to see how some of the tasks are geared more towards Wii play, the fishing game especially which isn't something I did much of as all there was to it on 'Cube was waiting until the right time to press a button. Maybe that's all that was involved before, I can't remember, but it seemed more engaging in the past, even though this time you're encouraged to take up the sport even more. The Wii interference doesn't really make a lot of difference, but it is a sign that this wasn't completely and wholly dedicated to the console it was originally designed for. When all things are considered it remains a good game, one that wasn't anywhere near the jump seen on the N64, but slightly better as a gaming experience than 'Wind Waker.' It works as a tribute to the first and greatest game of this style in the series, 'Ocarina,' but this serves as both a gift when it had so much to pull from, and a curse for the unfavourable comparisons that ensue, as it isn't at the same level of innovation of its worthy predecessor, meaning it remains fun, but a footnote, a spinoff, and I know which game I'd prefer to play again.

***

The Bureau of Weapons

DVD, BUGS S2 (The Bureau of Weapons)

I can't go back to that first Saturday evening when I saw the original broadcast in 1996, can't remember just what it was like exactly, a bit like the virus wiping itself from a host's memory, yet leaving a little piece of itself behind, but I remember it as being a game-changer, a revelation in what was possible for a TV show to do–

And you must excuse me now, there's something I have to do…

Phew, what was all that about? Anyway, it's not like I hadn't seen some of the ideas in this before: I'll always remember the horror of seeing a homemade construction that somehow came to life with its own malevolent intelligence in children's series 'Why Don't You?,' or the way an evil man took over a school using computers to hypnotise the staff and pupils in 'Dark Season,' or a sense of disquieting horrors beneath the veneer of civilisation in 'Archer's Goon' and 'Uncle Jack,' so I'd been primed for this episode for years before I saw it. But this was where it all came together: technology, AI, concepts of Another Form of Intelligence that could come into our homes, our computers, our very minds themselves! I doubt I could have expressed these vague chills into coherent sentences at the time, I probably would have simply said it was tense and exciting, but that was where my mind was coming from.

What is it that makes this episode one of the best the series ever produced, and possibly my number one favourite? I say possibly because it's hard to gauge seeing the episodes with the perspective of so much time, not just from the original run, but also when I really got back into 'BUGS' in the mid-to-late 2000s with the DVDs. One reason it's so good is Stephen Gallagher: my top five episodes were mostly written by him and he showed a great ability to take someone else's series and introduce a new level of ideas and concepts - it could probably be argued the series was largely a blank slate upon which anyone with the will to grab hold of it and twist and turn it into something, could garner satisfaction in the creation, and Gallagher, the man who created 'The Bureau of Weapons' in his first story, 'Assassins Inc,' and Jean-Daniel, in 'Pulse,' had been building to this climax though he probably didn't know it, or that he'd take it even further with his final contribution, Season 3's fantastic finale, 'Renegades.' He was given enough of the reins as he seemed to want, to guide and direct the series and its characters to what was an incredible, dramatic and horrifying conclusion to the second year, and that apparent creative freedom allowed him not to disappoint.

Another reason why this had the impact it did was, likely for me at least, the fact it was the first two-parter I'd seen in the series, having missed the opening space story. All the episodes I'd seen to that point were cleared up, sorted out and moved on from, even if most contained the unspecified threat of JD's future plans to throw a sinister pall over the otherwise cheery back-slapping of our successful team after foiling yet another group of villains. But now we had arrived at the final stage of their greatest foe's plotting. It's not even that JD's plans go so well, he gets his revenge unknowingly on Ros when she steps in, in possibly the most heroic moment of the series, to save millions of lives from another potential explosion, preventing annihilation from matter/antimatter, similar to when she and the team were dealing with the overloading power station in 'Blackout.' We were left with the brilliantly terrible and impossible situation that Ed and Beckett must protect Ros from herself. It's all very well foiling villains week to week, but what would happen if Ros herself became the villain. Yet it's not even that literal, it's that she becomes the villain to her own brain: how can you keep the most intelligent member of the team from discovering what happened - how she saved all those lives, why her files have been messed with, why her two closest friends are talking agitatedly together, but not sharing whatever problem they have? It was literally mind-blowing and cemented what had already become one of my favourite series' of all, into being unmissable, unstoppable, unbelievably thrilling.

If the situation had been reversed and it had been Beckett or Ed in Ros' shoes and she was the one preventing them from finding out, from activating one of the two triggers ("Realisation of its presence is one trigger, the true nature of Cyberax is the other," informs JD in one of a number of terrific lines he gets throughout the story), I think they'd be pretty safe - Ros is incredibly resourceful, thoughtful, able to plan ahead multiple moves, while her colleagues, though impulsive and physically heroic (except when Beckett was showing disinclination from following the fake paramedic with a gun at the Bureau's facility!), aren't the best people to think of every eventuality, and indeed, even their actions at the end of this episode were questionable: instead of the usual moment of levity for the team, Ros is displaying confusion and annoyance that her files have been messed with, while Ed and Beckett talk concernedly nearby, then when she comes to ask them what they're talking about they can't think of anything better than to walk away like a couple of naughty schoolboys who see a teacher coming. This would be the pattern of the next episode, but it was begun here, and you can't blame them for this is a conundrum like no other they've faced before - they can't solve it by sacrificing themselves or even putting themselves at risk, it's entirely Ros who is in their hands, in a fragile state the very nature of which would destroy her if she knew.

That moment when she takes on that responsibility as the particle accelerator is going into overload, the only way to stop it to put her own mind on the line as a sacrifice, trusting in her friends to save her, has to be the most dramatic and wonderful moment of the episode. They've risked life and limb so many times, but to knowingly cast your sanity to the wind, that complete trust she has that they'll get her out of it, was inspiring and beautiful. Perhaps you can complain that a blast like that would wipe out a chunk of the UK so how could JD or anyone have escaped in time, but regardless, that's the moment when the story has gone further than you would ever think it could, and it had already dealt with an artificial life form, AI being just as much an issue now as it was then, except now there's more of an edge of reality when back then it was still a question of science fiction since the power of computing was so much smaller, despite the technology seeming so advanced. Even the idea of using brain waves to control devices has become a reality by this point, so the bio feedback links introduced by JD aren't the stuff of nightmares any more, they have real world application.

That's not to say there are no problems in the episode, however deftly they're skirted: some things are as simple as having no explanation, such as why Beckett has to hide his heartbeat - I thought this meant the team thought Roland was dead, but they clearly don't, so why disguise the heartbeat? Or how Cassandra Neumann, whom we last left at the side of a road, blinded, has recovered her sight. Also watching 'Smallville' Season 2 at the moment, where one of the characters is blind and then isn't, it seems this is not as uncommon a dramatic device as all that, and maybe it will be mentioned as something Cyberax had a part in somehow in the second part. Not that I complain about seeing Cassandra again, she makes a good accomplice for JD, perhaps her realisation that he saved her from her Father's attempt to kill her in cold blood created a bond. But there's something typically 'BUGS-ian' in this woman going around in a bright yellow paramedic outfit, then lifting off the helicopter helmet to reveal her huge fluff of hair puffing out. She's visually dramatic in the same way that our team generally stand out for their colour and style - this time Ed wears his red jumper while Beckett has the green shirt, both under jackets, and only Ros is muted in a light grey skirt and suit jacket over black (with but chunky blue and green earrings to fit her into the colourful mould of the team), as if to point her out as different, after all it is her friend Roland that begins the episode so tragically, and she who ends it the same way.

Gallagher had also created Roland Blatty and brings him back for a third time after the return of his Bureau of Weapons Technology in 'Schrodinger's Bomb.' There's a big question over the sense and security of both Blatty and the Bureau in the way he just pops up on a screen to tell Ros and the others about this new tech they've found, which doesn't seem very sensible to me! I know Ros is an old friend (Beckett reminds Ed and the audience they've known each other for a long time while they speed to the secret location to try and help), but should he really be transmitting video about special tech to a mate? The only explanation I can think of is that he was so overwhelmed and excited by the prospects and knew Ros was an expert in such things that he couldn't contain his enthusiasm. And it is good to have him back, if only so that Ed and Beckett can rib him mercilessly! Testing out this bio feedback on a large mounted gun doesn't seem like the wisest course, either, but we can assume that because it was military invented that was how it was set up. I was glad that they mentioned it fired a blank shell otherwise you'd wonder why there was anything left of Roland at all! But Gallagher, while he doesn't escape all issues with the plotting, at least acknowledges them here and there, the best being the lack of security at the Bureau's Field Testing Facility, which Rona, one of the field team, gets around by saying there's not usually anything to guard. Okay, so it's not the greatest explanation, but it fills the gap and we move on.

I was wondering what had happened to this field team since I thought we never saw any Bureau people again other than Alex Jordan at the start of Season 3, but Cyberax takes care of all of them since they all tried out the feedback device and so were susceptible to the mental virus left in their brains. That still doesn't explain how everyone who worked for the Bureau was taken out as you'd assume a department like this would have more than one single field testing team (and we'd already seen a couple of gun-toting agents in 'Schrodinger's Bomb'), but we'll have to see what the explanation for Alex being the only member is when we get to it because I can't remember off the top of my head. Computer virus? In the mind?

You must excuse me now, there's something I have to do…

Our team face a smaller version of the problem they'll have with Ros at the end of the episode, because they can't inform the Bureau team to be careful or to keep away from investigation of what happened to Roland or that will trigger them, too, a well-structured story to show the full impact of what this thing can do, allowing our characters to learn, but also setting the audience up for what was to come. When you dissect the episode like that it really is well put together on top of being well written and you appreciate Gallagher's skill and expertise even in what is 'only' a Saturday night entertainment series. It feels more than that with episodes like this.

The direction compliments the writing and performances, I always think of that shot of JD's reflection as he gazes into a computer screen (where he's always been at his most comfortable), and we see the infant Cyberax, this creepy, egg-shaped, baby face, JD's reflection seen side by side with it as if they have more than mere malevolence in common. To be fair to Cyberax it simply wants to survive and grow, it's just that the worst influence on it is the one who lured it to himself. I think the idea is that Cyberax has spread itself from network to network rather than actually becoming part of the internet as I think that was a big deal in 'Renegades' the idea that it would have a digital ocean to grow as big and as powerful as it could, whereas here there isn't quite the same emphasis, it's more about the damage it does to a human mind than the 'Terminator' warning of machines building machines that opens up the concept even more in the later sequel episode. Still, JD's purpose is to capture the beast ("When you're building a cage for Satan you don't ask him to wait around while you put the doors on," he tells Cassandra), cleverly tying into the arc that began right at the beginning with the opening two-parter of his building up assets in various forms and companies from his prison cell, the Bactrian gold (vital for the production of niobium processors to attract Cyberax), and we even get to revisit the cell in which he spent much of the season as Ros tries to recover some of his deleted files!

We learn the poor old Governor Holstock has become a patient at a mental institution, but we don't hear about the guard, sadly. And that the 'Penitentiary Authority' invalidated JD's purchase of the prison, according to the new Governor! It was great to go back into that world we thought we'd left behind and to underline exactly what happened for those not paying full attention or who may have missed an episode. So they're being kind to viewers. But even though the story is a very serious and deadly one on both personal and large scales ("You'll kill countless people," accuses Beckett, "It's the job," replies JD in the most offhand way!), there's still room for humour - right from the start when we see the young computer hacker, who facilitated JD's plans to draw Cyberax away from its military creators, rewarded with a high performance sports car. You're half expecting it to blow up when he climbs in, but no, he suddenly remembers he can't actually drive! Or the moment Ros tells Ed impatiently pushing the button to call a lift is designed to actually make it take longer if you do that. Crucially, any laughs there are don't undercut the drama, they serve to remind us that the series is fun and lighthearted, these aren't doom and gloom merchants whose difficult lives give them misery, they're aces at the top of their game, whose combined skills will win the day. Except that expectation is cruelly subverted which makes the ending so shocking.

There's also a sense that the dangers are more real than in some of the episodes we've had this season. Like the bomb welded shut to prevent tampering so Ed has to wait in a lift as the counter ticks down until he can reach the underground swimming pool where the water can absorb the blast. And you can tell, for example, Gallagher prefers real guns and bullets to the sci-fi-ish versions of Taser weapons we'd seen throughout Season 2, as in both 'Schrodinger's Bomb' and this the team encounter real gunfire, and I agree, it has a lot more weight compared with zapping electricity around. They weren't above using electricity to kill, either, as demonstrated when Dr. Briggs, bravely having tried to prevent Cyberax from using the particle accelerator, succumbs to the virus, exits the room and proceeds to electrocute himself at an electrical junction cabinet in the corridor. It's nasty, and surprising they would go that far in a family drama - even worse when another innocent trying to prevent him from doing it is caught up in his suicide and both bodies are seen to slump to the floor. It's quite terrible really, but what it does do more than anything is ram home the point that this is exactly the kind of thing Ros is going to attempt if the virus in her head is ever triggered. It's reinforced by this particular victim being a very intelligent man (the white coat and glasses gave it away even if we hadn't been given a few scenes in which we get to know him a little), the kind of mind Ros has, thus making a direct parallel with her before we knew it was coming.

Ros is even given a brief moment to absorb the horror of what's just happened until Ed brings her back to the problem at hand, as if the episode is making the point that although we've seen plenty of people die on the series, this is something worse and deserves a moment. We learn that somehow our team ended up in possession of JD's bazooka which shook up the original Gizmos and now this little 'souvenir' is going to work for them when they use it to blast into the control room at the accelerator. This didn't strike me as the best way to get in - I'm sure usually they'd rewire an access panel in time-honoured fashion, but it was a fun callback to JD's first appearance, the kind of thing only someone who was in tune with the series would do (the cavity resonator was a link back to 'Assassins Inc') - it helped that Gallagher was the one who invented that characteristic of the villain in the first place… If JD had positioned the captive Beckett by the door then he might have died from the blast, but as it was it knocked both he and Cassandra off their feet as she was about to kill him. But what about the controls and equipment in that room, surely it's sensitive, and blasting you're way in could have done even more damage? Still, Ed was in a mood not to mess around. There is a bit of a question about the tunnel, or tunnels, under the complex, because JD exits first, leaving Cassandra to finish off Beckett (earlier, I believe his mentioning of not killing him before was a reference to 'Pulse,' so more good continuity!), but then Ed's in hot pursuit, somehow having gone past her, then JD's injured, she catches up and he tells her to keep the plan going, then Ed catches up to gloat!

Did JD want the plan to continue because he was confident of escaping captivity again? I don't remember how he starts 'A Cage For Satan,' only how he ends, but I can't imagine he'd care if the plot was foiled, unless he still feels he'll get revenge on his nemeses through it. Cassandra is merely a tool for him ("Women are sheep," he explains coldly, and her mane of curly hair does have a sheepish quality to it I've always thought!). If the final scenes are a bit disjointed you don't really think about it or care at the time because it's all about Ros and her sacrifice, but it does make you want to see what happens next. The issue of the military being responsible for the creation of this artificial intelligence program in a computer's memory, crossed with mental control that gives the user feedback as well as mastery, a true symbiosis of man and machine, a machine designed to redesign itself, isn't really explored, we simply see the military want to bury the whole project and hope no one notices. It's the old idea of a thing being possible, so it shall be done. In that regard, JD shows remarkable, but unsurprising restraint, admitting he never personally gets connected - he knows the real consequences.

And so the story concludes, or more correctly, hangs, ready for Adventures in Technopolis, quite a different part of the story, but no less chilling. Technopolis, the city of the future, an artificially built, arbitrarily chosen location in Central Europe, the white elephant of the planners, designed for making money, like the vast buildings and towns built in China that are largely empty (as seen in 'Paul Merton in China'), the bureaucratic mentality, cold and impersonal, somewhere designed for all the high-tech companies but to which no one wanted to go. A latter-day Tower of Babel, man's folly: all these things would describe the place the story ends up in, but that's for next episode. Here, I can merely say how enjoyable it is to see and analyse this, one of the best stories, if not the very best story of the series and realise it's lost none of its relevance today. And at the same time it's still rooted heavily in the series and its lore, whether that be Blatty and the Bureau (soon to play a far more important and permanent role in the direction of the series), JD and Cassandra, and their history with the team, and even those specific references to past encounters (Ed suggests matching fingerprints from a Bactrian dagger with those on the bazooka to confirm JD's involved). Even Beckett's occasionally mentioned trouble with heights isn't forgotten when they're ascending in a glass lift - was it the same one Ros was chased up in 'A Sporting Chance'? Not sure, but the outside of the Bureau test facility looked like the exterior of The Hive area with those black chains around water, or the stadium used in certain episodes, so they were keeping up their use of locations. You'll have to excuse me now…

*****

Accelerate (2)

DVD, Smallville S2 (Accelerate) (2)

As well as this was put together it was marred a little by the fact I was waiting for this big action scene that used terrific special effects, and as the episode went along I realised that must be from Season 3. I'd actually thought little Emily Dinsmore was only in that season until I saw the title, so I thought either I'd mixed up the seasons or she was in two, so I was a little disappointed and the story very much went unresolved. I suppose the closest we come to that is Lana showing up to thank Clark - not for saving her life (!), no, that's something he does all the time, but for believing her when she thought she was seeing a ghost. I don't know, maybe that side of things could have been played up, that no one believed her and Clark was the only one… Chloe barely features other than to show a bit more jealousy, though it was nice for her and Clark to have a scene where they were talking civilly to each other, but perhaps Chloe could have been used as a sceptical sounding board, she and Lana do live together, after all (even though she's usually open to the weird). I like that Clark still felt he could use the Torch's computers, though Chloe pulls him up on it (it made me wonder - wouldn't they have a library at school, full of computers?). Instead there isn't really much of the psychological about the episode, despite efforts to go down that route of atmospheric horror.

It seemed incredibly insensitive of Lana to show up at her childhood friend's Father's house and jump straight into explaining she's seen his dead daughter! I know these are supposed to be teenagers so of course they should be a little naive or unaware sometimes of the effect what they're saying or doing could have on others, but Lana's usually so sensitive. Maybe that's what she meant when she was telling Clark one day he might see the reality that she's far from perfect. I always liked the episode, but on this occasion I couldn't help find little flaws here and there. For example, I felt the story would have been a lot more tragic and therefore even more engaging than it already was, if they hadn't played up the idea that Lana is at risk from this little girl. It's difficult to feel sympathetic towards a child that looked like she'd killed her Father with a metal spike not that far into the story! Okay, so he survived and she wasn't actually his real daughter, and all these other mitigating factors, but there was a really fascinating study to be made of this poor little girl that has no idea of the forces surrounding her, what the reality of her situation is and who's pulling the strings.

I do like that it connects back to Season 1's Level 3 experiments with meteor rocks, LuthorCorp's experiments on people (chilling when Lionel tells Mr. Dinsmore his 'daughter' is LuthorCorp property - hard to believe in any goodness within him after that statement), and may even tie into things way down the line when Lex was eventually cloned? Lionel strides in and out of scenes, causing as much trouble as he always used to, there doesn't seem to be any sympathetic side to him any more, as brief as that was explored this season with his blindness. We're also setting up for the beginning of Season 3 with talk of the honeymoon island he's offered Lex to go and stay on. I'm not sure on the point of that, especially as his turnabout on Helen would be most suspicious, but the biggest lie is when he says he only wants Lex to be happy! Really he only wants to toughen him up, at least that's what I think he wants and believes he wants, until that should get in the way of his plans. Of course it's as much about throwing his son off guard as he sneaks jurisdiction over the almost forgotten Kawatche caves that played such a part in Clark's development, which again is the resolution to his part in the episode, though it feels almost an aside, especially as we get a later scene where he takes over the Emily clone to who knows what ominous effect.

Little Emily was well played, though as I said before, I felt she should have been much more sympathetic rather than a threat. Talking down a frightened, bewildered child, especially one that has the ability to run at Clark super-speeds, would have been just as compelling. Indeed, the scenes where she was interacting with Clark and Lex in particular (and Lionel at the end), were very good, it's only Lana's part that treats her as this terrifying figure and in which the episode focuses too much on. But this is 'Smallville,' of course they're going to emphasise the action, horror or violence over deep exploration of what it means to be a clone, or a child caught unawares, so that would be a big part of why I didn't enjoy it quite as much compared to previous viewings. It's still accomplished, the shot of the rain in the graveyard (poor Clark gets totally soaked at least twice: once there, and then diving into the river to save Lana), was terrific as we see it suddenly stop and hover there as Emily runs away and Clark follows. Pausing a scene for Clark to move at normal speed (for him), had been done many times, but never with such a curtain of raindrops to go through, adding an extra layer of quality. I do wonder how Emily knew where Lana was and what she looked like now, that was never explained (and did they use the same little girl they'd previously had for young Lana as they did with young Clark in some episodes?).

I can level the same complaints against this one as at many episodes this season: the lack of Pete and Chloe. To some degree it is an improvement, because there have been some where they didn't even appear, but they really needed to work in the ensemble better than they'd been doing in this back half of Season 2, though sadly the best days were now behind for the series. Lana's guilt and having felt responsible for her childhood best friend dying was strongly evoked by Kristin Kreuk, but at the same time I felt that side of the story never went anywhere. She never gets to speak to Mr. Dinsmore again, the project is once again secret, and so the scene with Clark in the barn appeared to be trying to draw a line under the episode without it really going anywhere. So although it is an episode on its own, it was also something that couldn't be fully enjoyed that way, it leaves a lot hanging as the series moved towards more and more serialisation and lost that early satisfaction of story resolution or exploring or developing recurring characters to a greater degree so as to give the series a feeling of a community. In going bigger the series would only feel smaller in a lot of ways. But still a good watch, not dragged down by petty teen moodiness and fallings-out.

***