A True Americans Dream

Note: This Review contains spoilers for the final season of The Americans. If you haven't seen it yet - well, what are you waiting for?! Go! For the rest of you:

All through the final season of FX's extraordinary Cold War thriller The Americans, I've been concerned about two things: How will they end it? And will they stick the landing, or leave us, like The Sopranos and Mad Men, stuck in ambiguity hell?  Well, I can say with confidence: they didn't screw it up.

Throughout the final season, Elizabeth and Philip have been at odds. Elizabeth (Keri Russell) has been slowly burning out all year, having been working alone, mostly on work to try and undermine the US position in the famous 1987 summit that helped bring the Cold War to an end. Philip (Matthew Rhys), out of the game for three years, and not doing particularly well in his cover job as a travel agent, has been trying to work against her and for the Glasnost forces under Gorbachev. In the final three episodes, Elizabeth learned from Claudia (Margo Martindale) that she has been manipulated in a plan by the KGB to remove Gorbachev from power. She finally broke, and decided to openly move to stop the attempt.

Meanwhile, Stan Beaman after more than seven years, finally began to wonder if his next door neighbor and the man he has considered his best friend, might actually be the Russian agents that he spent the first five seasons of the show chasing. Simultaneously, the FBI began to move a snare of its own around the Jennings themselves, finally catching up with them, by reaching the priest who married them.

It all came to a head in the final episode. Knowing that they had been compromised, Elizabeth and Philip began to run, making the agonizing decision to leave Henry, their son behind, so that he might have a future in America. Then they went to get Paige, who had finally been indoctrinated into the sleeper agent program that they had been involved in.

All of this led to one of the most magnificent scenes - maybe the greatest single accomplishment in television history since Walter White finally realized in 'Ozymandias' that all of his actions had been a lie. Stan, acting on a hunch, went to Paige's apartment, as Elizabeth and Philip came to pick up their daughter and go on the run. It built, very slowly for nearly two minutes - Stan calmly asking why the Jennings were taking their daughter home, while they tried to parry, before he pulled his gun on Philip and said: "Get on the ground, you f--ing piece of shit!" Realizing that the game that they had played for nearly a decade was over, Philip and Elizabeth confessed. To everything. What they had done. Why they had done it, and now they had never wanted things to go this far. As brilliant as Rhys and Russell have been through the life of this series, this was Noah Emmerich's moment. The genuine anger melting into astonishment, and then listening, first with shock as they told them to take care of Henry, and the final blow: that Renee, the woman who had become Stan's second wife, might be a KGB agent herself. (The series never revealed that in the final moments, but maybe that's just as well. It probably would've come as an anticlimax.)

Emmerich's work in the final episode was extraordinary. Particularly, after letting the Jennings' go, he returned to the stakeout he had left appearing the same, and then when he learned  - this time from the FBI - that the Jennings were KGB - it was a performance worthy of an Emmy nomination.

After this moment, one might consider everything that happened afterwards as falling action, the same way that everything after Walter's confession to Skyler was the real climax of the final episode of Breaking Bad.  But there were still some astonishing moments. The final telephone call the Jennings had with Henry, trying desperately to sound normal. The silent sequence on the train leading to Canada, as the marshal's did one more search through the Jennings' IDs that they passed, and both Jennings as they realized that Paige had gotten off the train. And the final few moments as Elizabeth and Philip, now back in the Soviet Union, discussed what their roles had been like, and whether their children would be alright without them.

Of course, there were a fair amount of questions that were left unanswered. Was Rene really a KGB agent? What will happen to Paige and Henry? And how will Philip and Elizabeth readjust to the Soviet Union that is, for better or worse, about the change dramatically, in spite of everything they did? Of course how things play out historically. Gorbachev came back, the USSR did collapse, and Russia changed. But knowing what lies in the future, I can't help but remember Claudia's final words to Elizabeth. "I'll go back home. We'll adjust. We always have."  One could certainly see Claudia whispering in the ear of Vladimir Putin.

Regardless of one's geo-political persuasion, one can't argue that The Americans was one of the truly great television experiences. It will never have the same reputation as The Sopranos or Mad Men or Breaking Bad - it was often too cerebral even for the new Golden Age. You had too constantly pay attention, if for no other reason then too be aware when there would be a scene done almost entirely in subtitles. And it didn't enjoy either the mass audience of some of the bigger hits or the awards that Mad Men or Homeland got. (Though the Emmys have been more generous to it the last couple years.) But at its peak, The Americans could be as great as any of them. It certainly ranks as one of the great shows of the 2010s, and hopefully, maybe streaming or on DVD, it will someday be considered with the same awe that we consider the others. Das Vadonya.

My Final Score: 5 stars.

Homicide Episode Guide: Mercy

Written by Eric Overmeyer

Directed by Alan Taylor

Way back in Season 2, ‘See No Evil’ explored the idea of euthanasia as Beau Felton and Meldrick Lewis decided to let what was essentially a mercy killing get written up as a suicide.  In ‘Mercy’, four years later, we find an inverse of the situation, where the sister of a man suffering from terminal colon cancer accuses the assisting physician of delivering an overdose of morphine to her brother, thus prematurely terminating his life.

The division about whether or not this is mercy or murder divides almost everybody involved.  Perhaps not surprisingly, that includes the investigating detectives, Bayliss and Pembleton. Pembleton is his typical ruthless self, sticking firm to his belief that every live ended prematurely is murder. Bayliss, perhaps surprisingly, is far more restrained and far more willing to look the other way. Perhaps it has to do with the treating physician, Dr. Roxanne Turner, played by that most underrated of actresses, Alfre Woodard. If the name sounds familiar, its because this is the same character that Woodard portrayed on  St. Elsewhere,  the show that Tom Fontana created before Homicide. In that show Turner was an OB-GYN; she now  works in a hospice. As she herself puts in, she has come full circle from welcoming patients into the world to helping them leave it.  She makes it very clear that she does not believe in prolonging life at all costs and that she sees what she is doing as easing their deaths, not assisting them.

This is a very grey area and Frank, who has a habit of seeing things in terms of black and white, does not hold with it. The show tries to present an even-handed argument, and for the more part, it does. All of Dr. Turner’s patients are in the end-stages of terminal illnesses, most strikingly in the case of a thirty-four year old woman in the end stages of MS. It is clear that most of them were ready to die. On the other hand, considering the level of pain that they were all feeling, were they in any condition to make those kinds of judgments? Most of them had families to act as their guardian, but in some case the victim died alone, indicating that Dr. Turner was the sole arbiter.

All of this leads to a memorable ‘discussion’ between Pembleton and Turner in the box. (Bayliss begs off, clearly impressed by her reputation) Frank discusses her patients using the argument of the sanctity of life under any conditions. Turner argues just as passionately of the pain and anguish her patients go through in the end stages of their illnesses. How dare he judge her? Frank counters by asking how dare she make decisions for people in their most vulnerable stages. There is no right answer; there is not even an answer, only the futility of the end of a person’s life. Frank swears that he will pursue Dr. Turner until she stops her work but this is never followed up on, probably because Frank is not with the department much longer.

Despite the anguish and pain going on her, there’s more going on in this episode than this. Stivers and Falsone, relative newcomers to the department, catch their first murdered child case --- a sixth grader who catches a stray bullet from a robbery that took place across the street. They seem enthusiastic initially, but as Giardello cautions them, there is little fun in the death of a child--- something that Bayliss and Pembleton could easily attest to. By a stroke of luck, they find the killer but closing the case does not exercise ghosts. As the episode concludes, they go to a memorial where the photographs of murdered children are displayed on walls. The walls are covered with hundreds, if not thousands, of photos---  doubtless the pictures of Janelle Parsons and  Darryl Nawls and Patrick Garrabrek and Adena Watson are up there somewhere. They will run out of room long before they run out of pictures.

We also see Gharty and Ballard chasing down the two ‘city goats’ they like for the last month or so. Though difficult to find, they are easy to apprehend and easier still to indict--- turns out the white trash criminals aren’t any smarter than the black ones. Such are the ways of Baltimore.

But the most critical event occurs when Mike Kellerman, after some work, tracks down Judge Gibbons. Kellerman confronts Gibbons as to being on the Mahoney payroll in regard to Georgia Rae’s unlikely civil suit.  The two of them speak in the ambiguous phrases of people who don’t want to be talking about what they’re talking about, thus the conversation is open to very wide interpretation. Mike surreptitiously tapes it and  plays it for Meldrick (how he tracked down Lewis is never explained) but it can be interpreted in two ways, either Gibbons asked for a bribe, or Kellerman was threatening Gibbons.  Mike, hearing what he wants to hear, thinks it’s the former, and also seems to think that this means their problems with the judge are over. They aren’t even close.

‘Mercy’ is a very complicated and dark episode, mainly because the issues discussed are very ambiguous and have no easy answers. It features some truly fine acting, particularly in the last scene between Braugher and Woodard (who earned an Emmy nod for her performance)  and some strong, even-handed writing for both sides. This is true because of the contradictions we see in the characters. Frank Pembleton  is a Catholic thinks capital punishment is wrong, but as a cop thinks that its necessary. Roxanne Turner is a doctor who believes in the sanctity of life but also believes there should be some dignity in death. There are no easy answers to the issues raised, but the writers know that the questions must be asked.

My score: 4.5 stars

50 Greatest Episodes, Part 4: Nos. 35-31

35. Better Call Saul - 'Five-O' - 1.6

This series is not as good as Breaking Bad, but if we are to be honest, there are few series in history that were as good. And with each successive year, it achieves something rather remarkable: it almost makes you forget that nearly every character we meet will be laid waste to by Walter White. And the first time this series truly touched greatness was when it gave a look into the backstory of Mike Ehrmantraut, arguably Bad's most frightening and efficient character. You wouldn't think it possible that Mike had a soul, but this episode more than demonstrated that there was blood that could be drawn from a stone. When Mike confessed (tearfully) to his daughter-n-law what happened to his son, Jonathan Banks gave what was arguably his finest turn in the Breaking-verse... so far. It was a revelation that made you feel sympathy for one of the most cold-blooded characters in the series.

34. The Crown - 'Dear Mrs. Kennedy' - 2.8

One of the greatest accomplishments in Netflix's already formidable lineup, there have been many examples of true excellence in its run so far. One leans towards recognizing any episode in the first season that focused on John Lithgow's remarkable work as a too old Winston Churchill, but there was some more superb work in the second season when Churchill left the stage. Few episodes have been more astonishing that the one that featured John and Jackie Kennedy's visit to Europe in 1963. When American royalty met English royalty, one would be surprised how much the real thing suffered compared to artificial one, and yet you come away feeling sympathy both for Jackie and Elizabeth, both forced into roles neither wanted, both being manipulated by forces larger then themselves. Even the inevitable scene at the end involving JFK's assassination seemed novel, because it was coming from an angle we hadn't seen before. Claire Foy remains one of the true talents of the medium. It will be hard to succeed her, but I am convinced Peter Morgan can.

33. The Big Bang Theory - 'The Robotic Manipulation' - '4.1'

I'll be honest, it took a lot to win me over with this sitcom. But something that's happened on that almost never happens on a series, much less a network comedy. The characters evolved. At the beginning of the series Sheldon Cooper was so insulated and robotic that one could hardly imagine him working successfully outside the confines of his apartment. Now, he's married. To a woman he actually admits he loves! And if one can calculate the moment when this series went from typical network fare to work of genius, it is our first true addiction to neurologist Amy Farrah-Fowler.  Mayim Bialik has created one of the most indelible female characters in the history of comedies, and turned from 'a female version of Sheldon to someone with her own behaviorism and quirks. And in her debut episode where she detachedly dissects Penny (the woman who will become her best friend) sexual history, you knew this was Sheldon's soulmate. Bialik has been robbed repeatedly by the Emmys, but I guess when you've got a bioscience degree from Harvard, awards seem trivial.

32. Person of Interest -  'The Crossing' -  3.9

One of the more fascinating broadcast series of the last decade, it had much more potential than it ended eventually realizing. That said, it still had some truly extraordinary moment, and none were more effective than the climactic battle The Machine and the team had with the sinister police-backed crime organization known as HR. Its biggest confluence of evil was more satisfying because it was visible, and because there was no way this war could end without some kind of casualty. What made this was resonate was the way it set up, as the series would do far so many times, the death of beloved corrupt cop Fusco. When he managed to get through the war alive, it seemed that we'd been wrong - which made the final moments when Joss Carter was gunned down in front of Reese, all the more painful. The fact that the writers had planned this moment since the Pilot made it more effective. Person would never be quite the same after Taraj Henson left - but considering she has gone on to even more fame at the center of Empire, you can't argue it was a bad career decision for her.

31. Alias - 'Phase One'  -2.13

This was a criminally undervalued series, even considering it helped launch J.J. Abrams and Jennifer Garner into the stratosphere. It featured a heroine who was as close to the female James Bond as we will ever get.  And the series was on the cusp of the network television revolution in a way that so many of its fellow shows were not. Never was this more evident in the episode that aired just after the Super Bowl, when Abrams decided to take what many might have considered the series overriding plot - bringing down the Alliance - and completely end it. With a new head of SD-6 on the scene, it quickly becomes clear that Sydney Bristow has to save her father. The only way she can do that is tell her colleague that she's been acting as a double agent all this time, and then everything he's been working for the last twenty years is a lie. Abrams manages to mine every bit of tension that he can out of the moment, before the CIA breaks the doors down. And the final moment, when Vaughn runs into Syd's arms and kisses her, also demonstrated a new reliance to resolve sexual tension sooner rather than later. Alias would make many changes over its all too brief run, and never more brilliantly than it would here.

Homicide Episode Guide: Pit Bull Sessions

Written by Sean Whitesell ; story by James Yoshimura and Julia Martin

Directed by Barbara Kopple

  Over the course of season 6, it became clear that the writers of Homicide were grooming Jon Seda’s character of Paul Falsone  to be a more central character in future seasons. This was most likely due to the fact that Andre Braugher would be gone by seasons end and they were looking for someone to focus the series on, even though Falsone and Pembleton are on opposite poles as detectives and people. This was made particularly clear in ‘Pit Bull Sessions’, which threw the two detectives on the same case. Falsone isn’t as smart as Pembleton, but he is intelligent enough to note that Frank is a more thinking, ‘philosophical’ detective, while he is a man of action. Despite this vital difference in personality, the two have a more cordial relationship than Pembleton did with ‘shufflers’ like Lewis or Felton. Maybe Frank was starting to mellow or maybe Paul respects Frank more than the others did.

The case they are called in on isn’t quite a murder. An 82 year old man named Leonard Tjarks is found dead in his house, having been mauled to death by three pit bulls. The dogs belonged to the old man’s grandson, Harry, who is nowhere to be found. The question is, was this death accidental or was Harry responsible in some way? This seems like a remote possibility but in the first half of the episode we get the idea that Harry’s pretty much a lay-a-bout who doesn’t care much for people’s feelings. This is made clear when the detectives finally track him down and the first thing that he does is ask for his dogs back.

We’ve seen some pretty creepy and cold characters over the years but Harry Tjarks is something else. It isn’t because he doesn’t think he’s responsible for his grandfather’s death; it’s that he doesn’t care about anything. Not the fact that his father wants him in jail, not that he hasn’t succeeded at anything in his life, not even the fact that his grandfather is dead. He is completely vacant. Not indifferent, he’s empty. And because Falsone is more emotional than Frank, he can’t seem to process  this. In one of the longer interrogation sequences that he’s had this year, he does everything to try and force something from Harry. At first he wants a confession, but as he progresses and it becomes clear this isn’t a murder, he wants to get any response.  The only time he gets is when he informs Harry that because his dogs killed his grandfather, they are being put to sleep.  Harry is portrayed by a then unknown Paul Giamatti, an actor who has become famous for portraying comic schmucks in films like American Splendor and Sideways (and who later went on to considerable success playing characters with a far harder edge on television). Here he plays another kind of loser, but there is nothing funny about it, and it is an early showing of the range he would be capable of.

That’s not to say that there isn’t some funny material in this episode. Bayliss is working a shift at the Waterfront (because Meldrick is still MIA) and Gharty and Munch come over after clearing the case that involved a truly clueless felon. In this one, the suspect helped kill a cab driver and then remained on the scene for the detectives to catch. This leads to reflections on some of the dumber criminals that Baltimore seems to house, including a suspect who confesses when Bayliss tells him that they have a special camera that shows the last thing a killer saw before he died, and two men who killed each over which service branch was better in the Vietnam War--- a conflict both were two young to have fought in. Sound absurd? All of these examples were modifications of actual murders in David Simon’s book. Considering some of the would be devious felons that we’ve come across, it is comforting to know that there are felons whose brains are mostly tapioca. There is another twist on it when one of the Waterfront’s new employees is revealed to be a poet-artist who has been writing the names of the detectives and some of the victims in his book as art. Munch gets pissed because of this and fires him. It’s possible that this is a subtle way of showing how some of the detectives didn’t like Simon’s presence on the squad when he was writing his book. Or maybe I’m just seeing things.

Oh, and we have one other piece of business. Georgia Rae Mahoney’s civil suit, much to the surprise of everyone, has been given a court date by a district judge named Gerald Gibbons. Gibbons set Georgia Rae free on bail after Junior Bunk was caught shooting at them., and it turns out that he requested this case personally. Because of this Kellerman is convinced that Gibbons is on the Mahoney payroll, and visits his office only to get stonewalled by his secretary.  However, he and the judge are going to go round a couple of times before this is over.

 When all is said and done, what remains with you after ‘Pit Bull Sessions’ is how a person as vacant and empty as Harry Tjarks can be. As unfathomable as the young men  who deal and die in the drug wars and shrug off jail and death everyday, it seems more reasonable then a man like Tjarks who has been given everything advantage life has and is completely absent from responsibility. As Frank points out when Falsone asks him about the case in the episodes coda, the victim’s son will mourn the loss of his father for the rest of his life, and the grandson will mourn the loss of his dogs as long as it takes for him to find new dogs. Ultimately Harry Tjarks just doesn’t care about anything, and that can be as unsettling as any cold-blooded killer.

My score: 4.25 stars.

50 Greatest Episodes, Part 3: No. 40-36

40. Scrubs - 'My Life In Four Cameras' - 4.17

The most criminally undervalued comedy series in the 21st century, it was the most consistent performer on the air until its final season. Set in a hospital, it may be the closest thing my generation will ever get to MASH.  And yet, paradoxically, the most perfect episode it ever did was among its most atypical. Having to diagnose a TV producer with cancer leads the series hero JD (Zach Braff) to have a fantasy where the second half of the series plays like a 'typical' comedy from the Must-See Lineup. Ironically, even going to cliches the series is still much funnier than 90 percent of the shows on the air. The jokes are solid, and the laughtrack seems to fit. Which make the final moments - when reality sets back in, and all the problems our characters were dealing with earlier ending painfully - such a kick in the teeth. When JD goes back home, his voiceover says: "After days like this, you just want watch one of your favorite shows." That more people didn't rank Scrubs among them is a tragedy.

39. Big Love - 'Come, Ye Saints' -  3.6

This polygamous set drama was that rarest of things - an underrated and underwatched HBO series. Without question, the highpoint for the series came as the Henrickson reached their personal low point - the breakup of the marriage to the fourth wife in the clan. The journey to bury a family time capsule in the shrine of Joseph Smith comes as a personal disaster, as all the skeletons that have been buried for two seasons come to the surface.  The late Bill Paxton gives one of his greatest performances as his faith is truly tested, but the episode climaxes with arguably the most painful moment - when Sarah, the soul of the family, who has been dealing with her own conflicts, suffers a miscarriage mere hours after a total breakdown. Amanda Seyfried demonstrated why she was the breakout star of this series. I wish I could say things got better from there for the Henricksons. Maybe they did.

38. The X-Files -  Mulder and Scully Meet The Were-Monster - 10.3

Darin Morgan was a true visionary.  When he wrote the handful of scripts that he would produce for X-Files (and Millennium), he foresaw the use of irony and self-parody that so many series in the new golden age have adapted. When the series completed its original run, 'Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose', frequently made the lists of greatest episodes ever written. Now, in the series revival, he more than demonstrated that he hadn't lost his touch more than twenty years later. As a cynical Mulder finds that he is losing his taste for the paranormal, he finds himself drawn back into the world of the supernatural by the arrival of a monster. All the satire and in-jokes Morgan was famous for come into play, but a new twist was involved. Mulder comes face to face with - and has a long conversation with - the monster of the week, a were-lizard who was bitten hy a human. It's funny, painful, and has a memorable dig at the cell phones we all use. This episode single-handedly justified the X-Files return.

37. Better Things - 'The Eulogy' -  2.6

I'm slowly being won over by this low-rated, well put together showcase for the phenomenal hyphenate Pamela Adlon (Louis C/K. associations aside). There were a lot of good episodes, but by far the most impressive involved Sam dealing with being unappreciated by her own family, and insisting (mainly to gall her teenage daughter) that her friends and family give her an eulogy while she's still alive. Both achingly painful and hysterically funny, there were some genuine tears and real fun delivered in this outing. When the show comes up for Emmys, this is the one I think they should submit.

36. Arrow -  'The Scientist' - 2.8

The first and by far the most outstanding series in what can only be considered 'the Berlanti-verse.' , this episode would be significant for taking what was still at the time a risky, dark series involving a fringe character from the DC-Universe, and turning it into the foundation for what is now the backbone of the CW. Never did the writers shift tones more effectively with the introduction of CSI Barry Allen, the forensic scientist who had managed to deduce that Oliver Queen was the Arrow.  Introducing some real humor into a series that is as dark as many basic cable series, the episode also set up the foundation for Allen's ultimate transformation (in the next episode) into the Flash. Berlanti is always at his best when he is willing to shift from world to world, and he rarely did so with more surety than he did here.

Homicide Episode Guide: Lies and Other Truths

Written by Anya Epstein & David Simon; story by Noel Behn

Directed by Nick Gomez

 Immediately following ‘Something Sacred’  came a string of four consecutive episodes where, though the crime that formed the center of the episode was heinous, it could not be considered a ‘homicide’. Confused? It’s not that hard to understand.  For example, in ‘Lies and Other Truths’ the central case involves a case of road rage between a car and a state road maintenance vehicle.  Even though we see the crime in the teaser, it isn’t clear which side was responsible for the incident that leaves both drivers of the vehicles dead and the other passenger paralyzed from the neck down.

Munch and Kellerman get called in on the case because of the aggressive of both drivers. However, for the detectives the investigation is perfunctory--- even if it is murder, it is as most a paper clearance with both suspects dead. The final arbiter on the decision is Dr. Cox who gets involved in a critical decision. The driver of the car had a .09 blood alcohol level--- just below the legal limit. The state pressures Cox, first subtly and then bluntly, into raising the level the rest of the way, in order to relieve Maryland of any possible liability. The importance of this becomes crystal clear when the widow sues the city.

We haven’t gotten to know Juliana that well, but we know that she can’t bring herself to lie under oath. The pressure becomes so great that she turns to Mike, who in an effort to help tells her to go to Giardello, and have him help leak the story to the press. In a bureaucracy like this, there can be only one reaction to her integrity. She is summarily dismissed. Nor does she stay around to be with Kellerman--- she gets the hell out of a Baltimore, in a scene almost identical to her furious arrival in Baltimore less than two years ago. (She is still involved in Georgia Rae Mahoney’s civil suit, but this detail slips under the radar for the rest of the season.)

And with that Michelle Forbes left the show. Though Juliana Cox had been given a lot of latitude in her role on this series, ultimately her character was never given enough to do to make her a viable presence on this series. Nevertheless, it was a loss for Homicide  as her character was a much stronger presence than some of the later female characters introduced on the show. I missed Forbes.

Though the central story is very interesting, the story surrounding it doesn’t work quite as well. Bayliss and Pembleton are called into investigate the death man who was found buried alive on the grounds of what used to be CIA training base.  We learn the deceased, Ashley Akton, was a member of a group of spy wannabes known as the Sons of the Silent Service and that he was buried alive as part of a ‘training exercise’. These same wannabes have repeatedly applied and failed attempts to join law enforcement and military agencies, and are eventually revealed to be a small clique of bumblers who think of themselves as carrying on the arts of espionage in the Cold War.

The suspect is Nelson Broyles, the owner of a spy paraphernalia shop and the leader of the Sons. Filled with the bravado of the true wannabe, he eventually arrives at headquarters wearing a dynamite laden vest prepared to blow the place to kingdom come. Convinced by Bayliss that he can resist the puny interrogation methods of the Baltimore PD, he surrenders the vest--- and proceeds to confess in record time.

This case balances between suspense and very black comedy and never quite decides what it is. It doesn’t help that the Broyles character (played by the usually reliable character actor John Glover) seems too scattered to be a threat and too devoted to be funny. What is fascinating comes out in the parts where Gee , in helping the detectives along, contacts a former Soviet defector --- an ex-KGB agent---  to help his guys. Eventually we learn how the defector and Gee know each other--- the lieutenant was once a POW in Hanoi. Not only did he resist four months of KGB efforts to break him, he managed to convince the man interrogating him to defect! When asked by Frank how he did this, he demurs saying only that he helped convince his friend with 300,000 dollars. We’ve known Giardello has layers but this is a huge surprise.

The one other continuing storyline that is finished up is Falsone’s custody dispute with his wife. Turns out Paul has heard so much over the past few weeks that he’s  no longer sure that he’s fit to have more custody. Ironically, so has Janine, and when the judge ultimately rules in favor of her, she agrees to his original request. This is interesting but makes the last few weeks of this storyline seem to have been something of a waste of time if this was the end result.

Ultimately, ‘Les and Other Truths’ is a mixed bag. Though it features good work by Yaphet Kotto and Reed Diamond, as well as good farewell for Forbes, the other leads are somewhat disappointing. Neither Secor nor Braugher show any of their brightness, and Jon Seda and Callie Thorne are big comedowns from last week. The espionage story is unnecessarily convoluted and personal stories are somewhat disappointed. It’s watchable and entertaining, but from this show we expect more.
My score: 3.25 stars.

Benedict Cumberbatch as Patrick Melrose

When Sherlock debuted on PBS and the BBC in 2010, one of the many, many remarkable things about it was Benedict Cumberbatch's extraordinary job taking a character that dozens of actors have played to the point of making him a caricature, thrusting him into the modern era, and making him a fully dimensional and evolving human being. He managed to make Sherlock Holmes vital, while doing so much to keep insulated and restrained. He more than deserved the Emmy he got.

Cumberbatch has played many more memorable characters on the big screen, many of them icons in their own right - Marvel's Dr. Strange, Star Trek's Khan - and others just as fascinating - Julian Assange and Alan Turing are among the most famous. So at this point, you would find it hard to imagine that he could be capable of surprise. Or so you'd think. Because Showtime and SKY TV in Britain have collaborated to put Cumberbatch in the title role of Patrick Melrose, a character at the center of five world famous short novels by Edward St. Aubyn.  I have not read any of these novels, but based on what I saw in the premiere episode, that may not necessarily be a detriment to the average viewer.

In the first episode 'Bad News', Patrick learns of the death of his father, played by another iconic character actor (Hugo Weaving). His reaction is more joyous than mournful - he gets drunk and visits both his girlfriend and his mistress, saying he plans to give up drugs. He then flies to New York to pick up his father's body, fully drunk, and then lasts all of five minutes before going to Central Park to get hooked up. (The first episode is set in 1982, which makes a lot more sense to the modern viewer.) He then goes to the funeral home, acknowledges the body, meets with friends, and has dinner all the while trying to deny that he needs heroin in a frankly hysterical inner monologue that often leaves his own head. Eventually, he goes to a very seedy lot to get a fix, and then visits his hookup to get cocaine. Things accelerate downhill, as he burns his hand, floods his room, pokes his eyes, drinks with his father's friends, has a disastrous date (with his father's ashes in tow)  and tries to destroy his hotel room. All the while, it becomes increasingly clear that their is some deep trauma going on with his father, going back to his childhood,  a very clear problem with his mother (who can't be bothered to leave charity work in Africa to go to the funeral), and some woman named Evelyn (Jennifer Jason Leigh).

All of this is much more entertaining then it sounds, because Cumberbatch turns everything up to eleven. Anyone who saw Sherlock knows how good he was with snark, but there was always a certain measure of restraint. Patrick Melrose clearly has none (the alcohol and drugs probably don't help), and watching him unload on everybody, not always intentionally is hysterically funny, even as we realize we really shouldn't be laughing at this.

Nothing else in the first episode quite measures up to it, though Alison Williams does a decent job as the unfortunate woman who Patrick has his disastrous date with. (There's clearly some very bad history there; Patrick refreshes her parents memory's by reminding them, he overdosed in their bathtub, and that they had to tear down the door to save him). Also, there's clearly a level of confusion and disconnect here, brought on by the fact that the episode was based on the second novel in the series. Oddly enough, I think it worked in the series favor; Patrick's lost weekend is so skewed and chaotic that much of the time we felt a lot more in his head. What remains unclear is whether the series can find a direction from here.

Nevertheless, in Cumberbatch we trust. To paraphrase Roger Ebert, he doesn't exactly chew the scenery, but he sure as hell snorts it. And to see this actor unplugged and loose in a way he's really never been before, is far more entertaining then a lot of other TV. I suspect he will be in the Emmy conversation once again.

My score: 4 stars.

Go Westworld, Young Man? Season 2 Review

There's some part of me as a television viewer that has always been drawn, moth-like, to a mythology based series. And really, more than most people, I should know better by now. I devoted more than a decade of my life to X-Files, even though the longer the series was on the air, the more worn the narrative thread got. And I defended Lost to the last, even though it kept giving us more question than answers up to the very last second. I've watched at least half a dozen other mythos based series try to mine that same story with even less success than they did. So when Westworld debuted on HBO nearly two years, I was very reluctant to get involved. It came from the wellspring of J.J. Abrams, who brought us that crazy island in the first place, and it seemed to just offer fewer revelations than it actually promised to give.. But considering that millions jumped on board Season 1, the incredible starpower connected to it, and over 20 Emmy nominations last year, I figured I needed to at least watch a few episodes of Season 2 before I dismissed it outright.

Unless you were one of the host robots whose mind gets erased and rebooted, Westworld originated from a cult 70s movie series. In Season 1, Westworld, one of many theme parks owned by the Delos corporation, began to malfunctions. The hosts began to act without the controls and safeties that had worked flawlessly for thirty years. These included Dolores, a sweetheart homesteader (Evan Rachel Wood), Teddy, a would-be gunslinger (James Marsden) and Maeve (Thandie Newton), a brothel owner. Operated on by Bernard (Jeffrey Wright) and Ford (Anthony Hopkins), it was eventually revealed that Ford, the designer of the park who was about to be fired, had begun to start 'a new narrative'. To wit, the total revolt of the hosts and their overthrow of the park. The series climaxed with Dolores putting a bullet in the back of Ford's head.

As Season 2 progresses, the chaos has, if anything, only amplified. Dolores has become a cold-blooded killer, willing to slaughter anyone, human or host, who gets in the way of her search for freedom. One can empathize to an extent, considering that for more than thirty years people have been using her for sex and murder, but the ruthlessness in her has gotten to the point that Teddy, the man (?) who loves her has begun to doubt her in a key moment. Maeve has reunited with some of her fellow companions with the vague admonition of finding the daughter that she had in an earlier incarnation. Bernard, who we learned late last season was nothing more than the robot incarnation of Ford's initial partners, has been trying to play both sides, but its clear that there is some level of malfunction in him that can't be easily corrected. Meanwhile, the corporation is in the process of trying to take back the park from the robots, viewing this as a financial matter, and its also become clear that the flaw in Westworld is spreading throughout the parts, one of which bares the resemblance of a safari. And I haven't even gotten to the Man In Black (Ed Harris) , a man who has spent thirty years going through the park over and over like a gamer searching for Easter eggs - and has finally found one.

All of this is very well done, acted and written. Yet I can't escape the premonition that much like so many other mythology series, there may be, in the long run, no 'there' there. We still don't know when or where this park is, we keep getting fewer and answers and more  questions with each episodes, and every episodes seems to include some kind of time shift that makes things more confusing. (It also doesn't assuage my doubts that one of the hosts is played by Rodrigo Santoro, and anyone who watched Lost knows just what happened last time he was in an Abrams based series.) Even when X-Files was at is worst, it could fall back to something lighter in MOTW's. And Lost, for all its faults, made up for them by having some of the most well drawn characters in the history of medium. Westworld still doesn't seem to have much of a 'new narrative'.

Now, I'm willing to give the show a fair amount of rope, mainly because I'm a huge fan of the cast.  I've been in awe of Evan Rachel Wood and Thandie Newton for more than twenty years, and their work as two completely different liberated hosts is fascinated. Jeffrey Wright has always been a good actor, and he seems more conflicted than anyone else in the cast. And of course, Harris has always been one of the greatest actors in history, and he bites into this role with the ferocity of wolf eating a T-Bone.

I'll give it a chance because I've learned enough about mythology based series to know its about the journey, not the destination. But that doesn't change the fact that at some point Westworld, as Hugo 'Hurley' Reyes might say, should give us 'some frigging answers!"

My score:3.75 stars.

Homicide Episode Guide: Something Sacred, Part 2

Written by David Simon

Directed by Uli Edel

 In the second part of this double episode, we get to see how the police answer challenges like the murders of two priests--- they play decoy. We see Pembleton, Falsone, Munch (there’s one that needs imagination) and Bayliss (who has just returned from his vacation) dressing up as priest trying to attract the murderous felons. This works about as well as you’d expected--- there are six robberies but none of them the type they’re looking for.

By now it is clear that both of murders were committed in the course of robberies--- when the second priest, a monsignor, was murdered, his parish was ransack and a chalice was stolen. The evidence also seems to point even more strongly towards the two Guatemalan refugees who have fled the scene. Eventually, the highway patrol catches up to them in Frederick--- with money in their possession. Their attorney---- a nun who was responsible for the refugee’s passage into this country----  finds them and insists that they are not the ones responsible for the murders. There is blind faith, and then there is stupidity and it seems absurd for anyone to have this kind of belief.

As it turns out, however, the sister’s faith is justified. Ballard and Gharty track the chalice to a pawnshop and find what seems  to be no help--- whoever pawned used ‘Whitney Houston’ as a name and left a burned-out building as the place of residence. However, using some local geography, Ballard tracks down  another lead--- our friend Rock Rock, last seen making a suspicious phone call near a rectory.   Now Rock Rock is a tough young man--- he’s already had some juvenile arrests and when we next seem he’s selling vials to a woman in a car--- but Ballard doesn’t think that he had anything to do with the murder. She does think, however, that he knows who did.

Up until this point, the main focus on the religious aspect of these killers has been Gharty. We see him clearly affected seeing the body of the monsignor in the morgue, confessing his doubts about the case to Falsone, and paying tribute to both priests in an honorarium where they lie in state. But after they catch up with Rock Rock, Gharty’s fury about the case leads to him attacking and assaulting the callous man, leaving Ballard no choice but to throw him out. The interrogation therefore is conducted by Ballard and Pembleton, the other primary on the murder.

For four hours they drill the young man using the idea of the preciousness of life, something that a drug peddler on the corner knows is false. So Frank tries another approach, shoving Lamar (his real name) into a morgue freezer filled with young black men. Then he and Ballard drive him out to the Chesapeake (which Lamar calls ‘the ocean’)  and shows him something no corner boy normally sees. He then confronts Lamar with the simple truth--- he’s going to die young and alone. So the question is, when Lamar was alive, did he really live?  Under other circumstances this might come off as corny, but Braugher has the delivery to pull it off. The killers turn out to be two corner boys Roc Roc hung with--- one of whom is cousin. He also confirms that he was outside the first church a few weeks ago but he didn’t have the spirit to go any further.

 Admittedly, it is someone disappointing to follow Gharty for most of two episodes and then have him disappear off-stage for the final twenty minutes. Still it is Gerety’s work that remains with you for both episodes, that of the cop who everyday sees evil in the world and yet takes his family to church every Sunday. IN many ways this is Gerety’s most complex performance, though this ground wasn’t covered again.

While most of the second hour focuses on the investigation we do follow one of the stories from the previous hour--- the location of Meldrick. Lewis pops up behind the headquarters, looking even scruffier than usual. He reveals himself only to Falsone, and has no urge to see any of his fellow detectives, particularly Kellerman. He asks his partner for background and rap sheets on three felons--- all of whom, it turns out, are players in the Mahoney organization. We have no idea what Lewis is up to, only his vague remark that he is going to ‘take the offensive’ against Georgia Rae. The ramifications of this will not be revealed for several episodes.

Even more obvious is the continued deterioration of Kellerman. Mike gets positively hammered at the Waterfront, insults Dr. Cox, and throws his car keys in the river. Stumbling home, he accidentally runs into a dealer who looks at him funny and who his drunken imagination identifies as Luther, which leads him to pistol whip him and leave him unconscious in the street. He also berates Meldrick for not coming to see him when he saw Falsone. The rift between Mike and the squad is rapidly becoming a fissure.

The overall effect of  both parts of ‘Something Sacred’ is a well crafted, multi-layered story. Though its not as well crafted as some of the other multipart story, the greater realism of the story, the good performances from Thorne, Gerety and Braugher, combined with the fine guest work of Avery Waddell as Rock Rock and Leslie Silva as Sister Diane, lead to a well written and well done episode. Combined with some well chosen blues music as background and you’ve got some good TV. It’s a shame that no more ‘mini-movies’ would be made in Homicide’s remaining year and half or that even future two-parters would not be as well written and de-sensationalized as this was. That would have been something to believe in.

My score: 4.5 stars.

50 Greatest Episodes, Part 2: 45-41

45. Curb Your Enthusiasm - 'Opening Night' - Episode 4.10

I'll be honest, I've never had much use for the work of Larry David. I found Seinfeld only sporadically funny, and have had only a mixed opinion of his ongoing improvised magnum opus. But I can't deny that the fourth season, which mainly dealt with Larry getting cast to play Max Bialystock  in The Producers tickled my funny bone on more than one occasion. And the climax of that season, the debut of him and David Schwimmer in the lead roles is extremely well performed, particularly when we learn that Mel Brook cast Larry for the sole purpose of closing his hit series down. (And really, if we'd known that this would be the last time we'd ever see Anne Bancroft work, seeing that she could do a mean Gene Wilder impression was a good way to go out.) Incidentally, David and Schwimmer were actually pretty good as singers and dancers. Maybe for a 2020 revival we could get the real thing?

44. South Park - 'The Passion of the Jew' - 8.3

Similarly, I've had my issues with South Park as well. Much of my problems with the series can be held with The Simpsons -  it's gone on for far too long, its been mostly hit and miss, and it seems to be lagging behind the Zeitgeist it once held captive. But I can't deny that its had some truly remarkable episodes. And while there are more than a few good options for this list, my personal favorite remains this dead on satire of Mel Gibson, his controversial Passion of the Christ, and the groups collective reaction to the movie. Kyle's demand for his eighteen dollars back, Stan's feeling an immense amount of guilt, Cartman's natural anti-Semitism taking hold in its most extreme form - its superb. There have been other more hysterical episodes of the series, but few that actually remain true to the character. Also, Kenny lives.

43. Grey's Anatomy - 'It's The End of the World/As We Know It'

            Episode 2.12/2.13

I think that it's the understatement of this century that I am far from Shonda Rhimes' biggest booster. And frankly, I've come to consider that the longer Grey's Anatomy has been on the air, the more it turns into a glorified snuff film. (To quote a relevant John Oliver quote: "How can so many of your staff die? You're a hospital, for Christ's sake.) It doesn't, however, change the fact that, particularly in the first three seasons of the show, there were moments of greatness. And its hard to look at this two-parter, which debuted after the Super Bowl, and not consider it the series finest hour. Bailey trying to hold back delivery of her child, while her husband is being operated on by Dr. Shephard, Christina Ricci performing life support on a patient with a bomb in his stomach, Kyle Chandler trying to talk first her, then Meredith down, only to be a literally explosive end - this is the kind of things Grey's could do well. There've been other crises in the future, but they mostly seemed like excuses to kill regulars - and they make this simple story look utterly simple by comparison. It's probably the most viewed episode in the series long history, and definitely the best.

42. Faking It - 'Pilot' - 1.1

This is probably my biggest wild card of the entire group, but this criminally underwatched MTV series was always among my personal favorites in the world of TV. Set in Austin, it told the story of two teenage friends in Austin, going to a high school I really wish existed, where the outsiders ruled. Karma and Amy are mistaken identified as lesbians, and having existed on the periphery all their lives decide to pretend being gay in order to become more popular. Being cornered in a high school gym, Amy lays a big kiss on Karma - and realizes she may not be faking it, after all. A funny, endearing, and ultimately hopeful comedy series, its one of the series of the past decade I really think was canceled too soon. MTV needs more shows like this. Still does.

41. Damages -  'Because I Know Patty' - 1.13

But when it comes to series from the Golden Age that may never have gotten the respect they deserve, its hard to think of any but this brilliant FX/DirectTV drama. A legal drama that almost never set foot in a courtroom, the series focused on one an anti-heroine before anyone knew how to coin the term. Patty Hewes, electrifyingly played by Glenn Close in a role that won her two Emmys, was a litigator whose take-no-prisoner approached against some of the most ruthless of villains hardly justified the carnage that would follow. In the climax to the first, and by far the best season, a series of stunning revelations unfurled that would play out throughout the remainder of the series. Even now, its hard to consider what was the most shocking, billionaire industrialist Arthur Frobisher (Ted Danson, in one of his finest roles) being shot and left for dead by an aide he'd left behind, Patty being revealed as being behind the murder of Ellen's fiancee, or Ellen's decision to try and bring the women who she'd spent the first season idealizing down. This is a series that deserves to be considered with Mad Men and Breaking Bad on the pantheon of great dramas. Find it on Netflix. Now.