Deeper, analytical pieces on shows and episodes.
When Friday Night Lights is at its best, football is the hub around which each story revolves. Some are obviously and tightly coupled, such as the QB controversy or Matt standing tall under the weight of hit after hit to go back for one more play, one more yard. Some seem detached, like Mindy and Billy acting out the behaviors they’ll repeat for the next 30 years. But in the good episodes, every story – every *person* – is impacted by Panther Football. Tonight was one of those episodes.
“Sometimes I wonder what home is. Is it an actual place? Or is it some kind of longing for something, some kind of connection?”
—Laura Roslin
“One of us here is living proof that there is life after death.”
—Gaius Baltar
“This ship has never let us down. So we’re gonna send her off in style.”
—Bill Adama
You’ll be swell! You’ll be great!
Gonna have the whole world on the plate!
Starting here, starting now,
Honey, everything’s coming up roses! – Mama Rose
So ends Six’s story, with the tearful reunion of an accidental family and the broken heart of a lifelong friend. Nothing ever could stop Jason Street, not even a broken neck. So while yes, the kid with the GED getting even an entry level job at a New York boutique agency is a bit crazy, I can *almost* believe it. Scott Porter is that good. He’s so good, I could watch Jason lie outright to Wendell about being on his way back to Dillon and stopping in just to help the poor kid make the right decision and *still* believe every word he said.
That’s a testament to Street as a character and Porter as an actor.
Jason rolls off into the sunset on $40K a year and the knowledge that he’ll be running that agency someday. At least he should know that.
I’m not sure what to say about tonight’s season finale. It did everything Burn Notice does well, only bigger. Much, much, BIGGER. Two big car chases, bombs and fireballs, and the biggest blowup to Michael’s situation we’ve seen since the season one finale made this the most packed hour I can recall. Despite all the action, there was still time for humor and a lot of real emotion, making the long wait until June and new episodes that much more of a drag.
Whereas last week was so much fun because Jay Karnes played such a compelling and capable villain, this week was exciting because Michael Shanks played such a compelling and capable client. It’s a real shame we’ve seen the last of Victor.
Adama: “Did you love her, Chief?”
Tyrol: “I thought I did.”
Adama: “Well, when you think you love somebody, you love them. That’s what love is. Thoughts…”
—from “The Farm”
“Sometimes lost is where you need to be. Just because you don’t know your direction doesn’t mean you don’t have one.”
—Slick
So! We’re back on solid ground this week, and I’m feeling both relieved and guilty for having doubted in the first place. What’s so easy to forget—with the impatience and anticipation of watching it all spool out in such fits and starts over so many years—is how well the makers of this thing are able to raise a storm right up out of the quiet every damn time. And in doing so make you doubt your own doubts, or at least question what you would have sworn five minutes ago was true. And then remember that you should never, ever trust the quiet. And to be very careful what you wish for.
I was mocked tonight for tearing up near the end of this episode. I can’t help it, as I’ve got much love for Billy Riggins. Every time I see that dumb lug bust his ass to help out his ungrateful little brother, I get to thinking maybe there’s hope for humanity after all. I know he’s a fictional character, but he’s also very real. If someone like Billy – filled with contradictions, prone to screw up, abandoned and unloved by his parents – can find enough love to do what he does for Tim, maybe the rest of us have a chance. ((In the short-term, it means I won’t be working on my orbital death ray tonight. Long-term? Don’t cut me off in traffic and you might all survive.))
Well it wasn’t the right time when we met. It wasn’t the right time when we started dating. It wasn’t the right time when I moved to Miami. No, it was the right time to tell me when she showed up on your front step. Is that about right?
We’re winding down the season and ratcheting up the tension for Michael and friends. First and foremost, Michael needs to deal with the threat Victor poses, so he tells Carla a story, leaving out only the one small detail that her pet has bitten through his leash. He needs Carla to get the suits and sunglasses detail to back off so his hunter can approach, so it’s time to start opening up.
Maybe he should have started that a little bit sooner, at least to Fiona.
Grifter, hitter, hacker, thief. You were all trying to solve your version of the crime instead of just trying to solve the crime. There’s a reason we work together.
Even amongst critics who enjoy Leverage, it doesn’t get a lot credit for style. Dean Devlin established a house style in the pilot that has been enhanced and codified through this first season that serves the show well, but few bother to note those things it does well. One of them is on display tonight.
The opening scene closely mirrors the opening of last week’s “The First David Job”, all the way down to Nate’s line to Blackpoole: “Are you here to kill me, Ian?” And the crane shot in the closing scene mirrors the same shot of the team scattering in the final scene of the pilot. These callbacks establish a through line from the pilot, through last week’s setbacks, and into next season.
“How many dead chicks are out there?”
—Hot Dog
Really? We couldn’t have packed most of the events of this episode into 15 minutes and then moved on to something else? We needed to watch growly Adama stroke the walls of his ship 35,000 times in order to understand what’s at stake if he loses her? We needed to see 35,000 chummy scenes of him bonding with Tigh in order to understand that they are in deep, utterly platonic man love? Which we’ve known for, oh, four or five years now? And ditto the 35,000 times the Final Five (plus Six!) voted on whether to stay or jump ship? Yuck. I don’t mind the talkies, but this one suffered from a serious lack of urgency: a weird stop on forward movement in half the storylines combined with lightspeed narrative unspooling in the other half. So we’ll make this short & sweet & epically crabby, and then you can holler at me in the comments, because the less time I spend thinking about it—and my fear that Tricia Helfer is going to stab herself in the eye with her own cheekbone soon—the better.
(more…)
There’s a hole in my bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza
There’s a hole in my bucket, dear Liza a hole.
And with that unguarded, completely vulnerable moment, Herc and the Riggins boys know what’s at stake. This isn’t about Jason making money; it’s about Jason being a father. The reaction shot of Herc was a given, as Kevin Rankin brings such a sweetness to his role Herc would obviously be taken by Jason opening himself up like that. The more significant shot for me was of Billy. Billy knows what a loving, doting, caring father is: he just has to look in the negative space around his own deadbeat dad. Billy’s not going to be screwing around on this project anymore, even if it means putting up with Jason’s work list.