Caprica takes a small step backward with “The Imperfections of Memory.” It’s not that the series has truly stumbled, however, this episode isn’t nearly as focused or thematically coherent as the previous two installments. Instead, we get a return to the scattershot approach of the early episodes of the series. And while there is a clear improvement in writing — particularly in terms of dialogue. There is a very solid, and welcome, plot twist at the very end of this episode. But on the whole, the unfocused approach proves to be more of a liability than a strength.

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“Principal Reynolds is an administrator, not a teacher.  He’s forgotten what the public school system is about.” – Dr. Benjamin Linus

With “Dr. Linus” Lost has a special installment, one that transcends the obvious drawbacks of its current approach. Put simply, this is an episode that manages to convey a deeply meaningful and profound tale with an exceptional amount of craft. All three of the episode’s story lines share a common thread about choice and fate. The directing and cinematography are excellent and the dialogue is crisp and multifaceted. All told, this is an exceptional installment, even if it doesn’t fundamentally change the approach the series is taking in its final episodes.

Of course, the biggest concern with the juxtaposition of the Island-reality with the flashsideways-reality is the lack of any explicit connectivity between the two versions of the characters we see. Are they the same? Are they shadows or echoes or something else entirely? This ambiguity has caused some issues with previous installments. But here, it almost doesn’t matter at all. The Ben Linus we see in both realities is, essentially, the same. And his story is one of a thirst for power and ultimate redemption (or at least a chance for redemption). As such, it’s a touching, human story that, thanks to the checkered history of Linus as a character, becomes all the richer for the choices he’s allowed to make.

In the alternate reality, we see the intrepid Dr. Linus toiling in the sometimes (though not always) thankless job of being a teacher. Predictably, the character connections are here. Arzt is a fellow colleague. And, of course, Locke is there as a substitute teacher. Linus complains about the high school principal Reynolds (William Atherton). Arzt is disillusioned. But, not without a wee bit of irony, Locke prods Linus to think about becoming principal himself. Locke even goes so far as to say that Linus has his attention. Oh, and Linus has a fairly positive relationship with his father (who regrets leaving the Island). Interesting stuff.

But the story takes a sudden (if slightly melodramatic twist) when Linus speaks to one of his best students: Alexandra Rousseau. During a morning tutoring session, Alex reveals that Principal Reynolds is having an inappropriate relationship with the school nurse. Linus uses the information to convince Arzt to hack into the nurse’s email account. Linus plans to use the elicit correspondence to make a play for Reynolds’ job (amusingly prompting Arzt to say, “You’re a real killer Linus”).

But Reynolds has a pressure point to respond to Linus’ attack. Alex needs a recommendation from Reynolds to get a scholarship from Yale. Reynolds threatens to ruin Alex if Linus goes through with his plan. It’s a fascinating moment because it forces Linus to make a choice: personal ambition or the well-being of a student he cares about.

To his everlasting credit, Linus chooses in favor of Alex.

What’s really interesting about this story is how it relates to what happens to Linus on the Island. The episode opens moments after the attack on the on the Temple and Linus is in a mad rush to escape to safety. He finds Ilana’s party and would seem safe at last … if not for Ilana insisting that Miles determine how Jacob — who Ilana describes as “the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father” — died. It doesn’t take long for Miles to realize that Linus is the murderer. And Linus is, finally, out of options — or so it would seem.

Ilana, furious for the loss of Jacob, forces Linus to dig his own grave. It’s to the testament of the episode that it manages to accomplish these scenes with a wonderful sense of doom and gloom for Linus. There’s almost a palpable inevitability to his final fate. And the thing is, despite his obvious wish to live, Linus seems surprisingly resigned to his fate …

… until Locke shows up.

Locke is back with yet another “devil’s deal” — this time for Linus. Locke promises to leave the Island in Linus’ keeping, if only Linus will join him at the Hydra station. Locke uses his magical powers to free Linus, who bolts into the forest with Ilana on his trail. But a rifle stowed by Locke gives Linus a chance to do something very important: explain why he killed Jacob.

As it turns out, it all hinged on Alex, whom he saw murdered before his eyes — all in the name of Jacob and the Island. It’s a surprisingly touching and poignant scene. The performance from Linus really sells the whole concept. And when he’s done, when he says that he’ll join Locke, simply because no one else will have him, it’s very, very difficult to avoid empathizing with his character.

And then Ilana gives Linus one of the greatest gifts someone can receive: a chance for redemption. She says, simply, I’ll have you. And then she departs back to the beach. Linus, dumbfounded, realizes that he doesn’t have to accept Locke’s deal. Instead, he chooses friendship, and a chance to make amends for his actions. It remains to be seen, of course, whether or not he’ll follow through on this opportunity. But the fact that he took it is a powerful moment for the episode … and the series.

This leads to a reunion scene on the beach as Jack, Hurley and Richard (of all people) meet up with Sun, Frank, Ilana, Miles and Linus. And that is the result of the episode’s subplot — which manages to be just as nearly interesting and captivating as its main plot.

Put simply, we learn quite a bit about Richard. After Jack decides to head back to the Temple, and after Hurley tries stalling, the two are found by Richard who leads them to the Black Rock (nicely foreshadowed by an image in one of Linus’ history lessons in the flashsideways). Richard says, as a seemingly insignificant aside, that he arrived at the Island on the Black Rock ship. His longevity is thanks to a gift from Jacob. But with Jacob’s death, Richard has a crisis of faith, believing that his long, unending life has been entirely without purpose.

And then it gets interesting.

Richard wants to die, but because of Jacob’s “gift” he cannot kill himself. So he enlists Jack to help him by igniting some of the volatile dynamite left on the ship. And yet, it’s Jack — of all people! — who restores Richard’s faith with a “leap of faith” of his own. Jack bets his life that, like Richard, he simply cannot die. So he lights the fuse on a dynamite stick and calmly sits down across from Richard with a simple, “let’s talk.”

It’s no real surprise that Jack lives, but the scene is notable not for its tension, but by how far Jack has come. He accepts irrational ideas completely on faith — something he was loathe to do when he first arrived on the Island. In fact, as a result, Richard accepts Jack as a kind of leader.

Curiouser and curiouser ….

But all of this nicely ties into Linus’ story, particularly the elements dealing with his own crisis of faith about Jacob. Richard is saved by Jack, just as Linus was saved by Ilana. It’s a nice thematic connection for the episode.

Overall Grade: A-

“Dr. Linus” is very, very good. Accolades are due to the director and cinematographer, as well as the script writers. Despite the inherent drawbacks of how the season has been structured, this episode features a strongly coherent and compelling character study.

Nicely done.

And then there were the promos for the upcoming episodes, featuring Leonard Cohen’s “Bird on a Wire” which, on a personal note, has quickly become a very meaningful song:

Like a bird on the wire
Like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free

Like a worm on a hook
Like a knight from some old fashioned book
I have saved all my ribbons for thee

If I, if I have been unkind
I hope that you can just let it go by
If I, if I have been untrue
I hope you know it was never to you

Oh, like a baby, stillborn
Like a beast with his horn
I have torn everyone who reached out for me

But I swear by this song
And by all that I have done wrong
I will make it all up to thee

I saw a beggar leaning on his wooden crutch
He said to me, “You must not ask for so much”
And a pretty woman leaning in her darkened door
She cried to me, “Hey, why not ask for more?”

Oh, like a bird on the wire
Like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free

“Know Thy Enemy” continues the slow evolution of Caprica as a series. Unlike the first few episodes, this one has a fairly concise narrative, one that serves to focus the plot and characters. This is good because the series certainly needs a much clearer direction for its story. What holds the episode back, though, is the fact that it is, mostly, setup. Once again, new characters and conflicts are introduced, adding to what is, already, an overload of such elements. The episode works, because it manages to stay close to one specific narrative thread — and thanks to a few tantalizing and compelling scenes — but it doesn’t represent a giant leap forward for the series as a whole.

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With “Sundown,” Lost continues its familiar approach of slowing doling out tantalizing answers while telling a thoroughly obtuse story. That’s not to say that there isn’t action (there is quite a bit of it) or that this installment doesn’t move the story forward (it does). In fact, the story is as much a tragedy as it anything else. But by the end of the episode, the overall narrative – the hows and whys of what happens – is still too vague to provide useful commentary on the characters or thematic elements.

More than anything, this is Sayid’s story – and it focuses squarely on whether or not he is “a good man.” In both segments (on the Island and in the alternate reality), Sayid is confronted with the opportunities to demonstrate his true nature. Perhaps the most informative of the two threads is the “flashsideways,” which shows us a Sayid that has been unaffected by the mystical “infection” he seems to have on The Island.

In the alternate timeline, the woman of Sayid’s dreams is very much alive and part of his family. Unfortunately for Sayid, though, Nadia is married to Omar, Sayid’s brother. We learn that this is because Sayid feels as though he is unworthy of Nadia’s love because of his actions with the Republican Guard. He kept Nadia at arms length as a way of doing penance for what transpired in his past. In a sense, this is similar to his self-imposed “exile” at the beginning of the first season, after he tortured Sawyer. If nothing else, Sayid has a conscience – a sign of a good and decent person.

But even in this reality, Sayid is far from perfection. He clearly has feelings for Nadia. She clearly has feelings for him. The two do not cross a line, but Sayid’s love for Nadia, and her children, lead him to more acts of violence. Omar, at the mercy of Keamy (now a loan-shark) has been beaten. Keany’s goons take Sayid to Keamy for a sit-down, but Sayid quickly turns the tables, killing both the goons and Keamy – safeguarding Nadia and her family.

Clearly, these scenes are meant to establish just how far Sayid will go to save Nadia. And this becomes the deciding factor in Sayid’s fate on The Island. Unfortunately, none of this is especially new or revealing about Sayid, his feelings or his character. I suppose the alternate reality scenes provide for a reminder of these facts. But that’s as far as they go. The result is an interesting, but relatively redundant development for the series. It is worth noting, though, that character connections in the alternate reality continue. Not only does Sayid kill Keamy, but he sees Jack when Omar goes into the hospital and, after killing Keamy, Sayid rescues a bound and beaten Jin.

On the Island, the question of Sayid’s character is a major concern. Dogen feels that Sayid would be better off dead and, when Sayid confronts Dogen, the two have a blistering and intense fight. This is one of the episode’s main “action” scenarios and it’s certainly plenty entertaining. But it ends oddly. Dogen is on the verge of killing Sayid when Dogen’s baseball falls off the table. This stops Dogen in his tracks. It’s an awkward, anticlimactic moment in part because we have so little backstory and investment in Dogen’s character.

Later we learn Dogen’s backstory – about how he was responsible for his son’s death in a car accident, following his son’s baseball practice. It’s touching and humanizing for Dogen. But after that, Sayid drowns Dogen in the pool, seemingly putting an end to the character. So why the buildup, the mystery and the backstory? Simply to say that Dogen is on the Island after striking a deal with Jacob to keep his son alive? This makes some sense within the context of the episode, but it hardly seems to fit with the amount of time and effort (or lack thereof) given to Dogen’s character.

In any event, a deal is precisely what turns Sayid from good to evil. Throughout much of the episode, he seemed defensive whenever he was told that he might not be a good guy. But when Locke offers Sayid a devil’s deal – act on Locke’s behest and in exchange return to a life with Nadia – it’s too tempting for Sayid to pass on. And so Sayid finally allows “darkness into his heart.” He delivers an ultimatum from Locke to the people of the temple. Then Sayid kills Dogen, which allows Locke-as-smoke-monster to sack the Temple, killing anyone who remained behind its walls following the ultimatum.

The Smoke Monster attack is the episode’s second big action piece and, like the first, it proves to be riveting and exciting to watch. People are killed with frightening ease. Kate aligns herself with Claire to escape the rampage. And Miles is rescued by Ilyana, Frank, Sun and Ben. In fact, during the escape, Ben has a confrontation with Sayid and sees, clearly, the depths to which Sayid has fallen.

This is, perhaps, the final chapter of Sayid’s struggle to separate himself from his actions in Iraq. If so, his inability to find a measure of salvation, or even redemption, is a tragedy: Sayid, a man of conscience and principle, has become aligned with darkness and is now fully and completely under the spell of temptation. And one has to wonder if, perhaps, the alternate reality is Sayid’s “reward.” Sure Nadia is alive and is part of his family. But he isn’t married to her.

Such is the nature of deals with “evil incarnate?”

Sayid’s story is, without question, the biggest strength of the episode. But the odd manner with which Dogen’s character is explored and, ultimately, done away with leaves too many questions. And, still, not knowing how the alternate reality relates to The Island continues to be a detriment. The parallel stories work if the alternate reality is the result of Sayid’s choice on the Island. But if not? What does that say about Sayid? Or the nature of the series itself?

Overall Grade: B-

“Sundown” gets a lot of credit for its specific focus on one character, in the case Sayid. But the episode suffers from an overall narrative that is making suspenseful plot twists a higher priority than providing enough information to truly understand what is happening to these characters.

And speaking of plot twists: At one point in the episode, Dogen tells Sayid to kill Locke, who Dogen describes as “evil incarnate.” Sayid must do so before Locke speaks, or else the act will fail. Of course, Locke manages a “Hello Sayid,” before Sayid stabs Locke. And Locke lives. But at the end of the episode, Locke sees Kate, but says nothing to her. A coincidence? Or does it relate to the “rules” for killing Locke?

5.01 – Apocalypse Rising: B-

“Apocalypse Rising” is meant to kick off season 5 of Deep Space Nine in grand fashion. It certainly has the feel of an episode trying to be epic and dramatic in nature. But it never quite lives up to its own expectations. This is, primarily, a plot-based vehicle with one overriding purpose: To put an end to the war which was about to erupt as season 4 drew to a close. There are some nice character moments, and surprising plot twists, thrown into the mix. But it’s not enough to make the overcome the sense that this is an episode that is just going through the motions.

5.02 – The Ship: B+

Despite a few missteps, “The Ship” is a riveting, intense, and meaningful episode. It’s been awhile since Deep Space Nine has had an outing that was as explicit in its overall message. What’s interesting is that it occurs alongside genuine action and suspense. The result is a surprisingly well-balanced installment. If you could set aside a handful of melodramatic moments, this would have been a truly exceptional episode.

5.03 – Looking for par’Mach in All the Wrong Places: C+

With a name like “Looking For par’Mach In All The Wrong Places” you kind of have to expect an episode like this. Truly, this is as whimsically overblown as an episode can possibly be, while still teetering on the edge of entertainment. I suppose this evokes, more or less, a “hate it or tolerate it” response. I cannot fathom any fans absolutely loving it. But to be fair, a series often needs a silly, whimsical episode just to prove that it doesn’t take itself too seriously. And for that reason alone, this installment is acceptable. Beyond that, though, there’s very little legitimacy to be found — even if you do manage a few chuckles at the events.

5.04 – …Nor the Battle to the Strong: A+

On a purely visceral level, “Nor the Battle to the Strong” is a triumph of television. It’s not often that an episode captures tension and suspense alongside deep character exploration and a poignant look into human nature. But that’s precisely what we get here. On the surface, the story is about the loss of innocence. But its many layers incorporate war and courage, cowardice and introspection. Perhaps the episode is a bit too explicit in its messages, but that’s a subjective point. More importantly, this episode means something. It’s a story worth telling. And it manages to convey a complex array of human reactions, responses and characteristics. Easily one of the best outings that Deep Space Nine has to offer.

5.05 – The Assignment: C-

I literally rolled my eyes and groaned out loud when the premise of “The Assignment” was revealed. As far as hokey, preposterous concepts go, this is right up there with the worst. Still, the episode managed to make the most out of its setup, right up until its final paces. Despite the silly story, there was enough tension and emotion to give the narrative a measure of (almost) legitimate drama. But, of course, when the foundation is shaky to begin with, it doesn’t take much for the whole construct to come crashing down into ruin. And that’s basically what happens before it’s all over.

5.06 – Trials and Tribble-ations: A

“Trials And Tribble-ations” is a perfect Star Trek episode. That’s not to say that the story itself is transcendent, or that the humor is inherently funny. But for a Star Trek fan, there is no better conceived or executed homage. Indeed, this episode succeeds masterfully where many a TNG episode (“Relics,” “Unification”) fell short. From start to finish, not only is it a nostalgia trip, it’s a story worthy of enjoyment on its own merits. Really, the only possible criticism to this episode is that it requires a kind of admiration for and knowledge of the original series episode, “Trouble With Tribbles” (without which many of *this* episode’s conceits fall considerably short). But for a fan-based tribute episode, I cannot imagine something executed better than this.

5.07 – Let He Who Is Without Sin…: F

Oh, where to begin? “Let He Who Is Without Sin” isn’t just a bad episode. It’s an embarrassment. It’s a silly, soapy mess which makes the mistake of also trying to be an important commentary. But the whole misguided nature of the characters, story, script, acting, and so forth make the installment both nonsensical and pretentious — a rather baffling feat, if you think about it. But really, it’s best not to think too much about this episode. There’s little point in doing so.

5.08 – Things Past: C-

“Things Past” is an awkward, inelegant attempt at some serious and profound character development and thematic exploration. The episode has its heart in the right place, it has the best of intentions. But the basic premise, the one required to get into the depths of the story, is just too obscure and bizarre to be an effective portal. The problem is, the audience is required to accept the premise throughout the entire episode — not just at its beginning. The result is that, despite the rather stunning revelations, the episode just doesn’t register as anything particularly special or noteworthy.

5.09 – The Ascent: C

“The Ascent” offers some enjoyable moments tucked into an otherwise unremarkable episode. It’s not like this is a terrible installment, or that it’s fraught with mistakes or missteps. But it never really comes together into something noteworthy or praiseworthy. It’s enjoyable, as far as its runtime goes, but I doubt that it will have a whole lot of impact beyond the confines of its story. Indeed, this is the epitome of average Trek, finding some worthy character moments in a tale that never really manages to capitalize on its foundations.

5.10 – Rapture: B+

For the first time, Sisko orders Kira as The Emissary, not as a Captain.

“Rapture” is just a bit too melodramatic for its own good. The story is solid. The implications are profound and emotionally affecting. But it’s an episode that take itself just a tad bit too seriously. And, too, the production doesn’t quite reach the lofty heights to which it aspires. There’s nothing wrong, of course, in producing an episode which which is meant to transform the series both in terms of character and narrative. But for what it’s worth, this episode misses the mark of being exceptional. Instead, it has to settle for merely “very good.”

5.11 – The Darkness and the Light: B

“The Darkness and the Light” is a thoroughly ambitious episode. The high-risk, high-reward approach certainly yields an installment which is compelling and thought-provoking. But it’s by no means perfect. In fact, much of the episode is style over substance — going for mood and tone, rather than a well-structured story. But in the end, the point is more about the emotions and ideas that the tale evokes, rather than the means by which it evokes them. And on that level, the episode succeeds quite well. The result is a classic, especially considering the powerhouse performances. But the episode certainly shouldn’t be mistaken as the best Deep Space Nine has to offer.

5.12 – The Begotten: B-

“The Begotten” is an episode high on emotions, actions and drama, but relatively light on implications for the series as a whole, from a plot standpoint. If this sounds a tad contradictory it’s because, well, the episode itself is a contradiction of what the series had established since the end of season four. And for all its bluster, the episode may have positively overstepped its bounds. There are some really good character dynamics at work here, and there’s no question this is a memorable episode, but if anything, it’s not quite a classic.

5.13 - For the Uniform: A-

From start to finish, “For The Uniform” has an almost cinematic quality to it. It’s got a kinetic narrative, driven by strong, plausible characters. It touches on a wide range of themes and conflicts. The dialogue, pacing and acting are exceptional. There are two potential points of criticism, toward the end of the episode, but they aren’t enough to derail the momentum the story manages to build. Put simply, this episode is a triumph of thoughtful action and entertainment. Outside of its final moments, this is one of the best installments of Deep Space Nine.

5.14 – In Purgatory’s Shadow: B+

After a long, slow, almost inexorable buildup, “In Purgatory’s Shadow” ends with one most memorable and thrilling cliff hangers in the entire Trek franchise. And when you factor in the avalanche of character revelations and plot twists, it’s little wonder why this episode is so highly praised among Deep Space Nine fans. But it’s not perfection. The pacing is suspect and considering the sheer volume of twists there’s some diminishing returns at stake. Still, this is one of those transformative episodes after which nothing will be the same again. And for that alone, it is exceptional.

5.15 – By Inferno’s Light: B+

“By Inferno’s Light” carries the momentum built by its predecessor a considerable distance. But there are enough complications, issues, and questions to keep it from being a truly exceptional episode on its own merits — even if it does contain a genuinely solid plot twist in its opening paces. Make no mistake, this is a worthy, entertaining and thrilling installment of Deep Space Nine. It almost effortlessly expands on the lore of the series. It’s very, very good … just not exceptional.

5.16 – Doctor Bashir, I Presume?: D-

Of all the harebrained schemes and plot contrivances in Star Trek lore, this has to be one of the silliest, most ridiculous ones I can imagine. “Doctor Bashir, I Presume” is a perfect example of what can go wrong when a series takes itself too seriously and tries too hard to be edgy, or innovative or provocative. Deep Space Nine has been a fantastic series thus far, building on strong character developments and interactions to fuel some really enjoyable and thoughtful stories. But this episode can only be categorized as a mistake. In fact, even one does manage to suspend disbelief long enough to accept the premise (a tenuous proposition at best), the rest of the episode still manages to be utterly pedestrian at best and downright ludicrous at worst. It says something that the *only* noteworthy element of the episode comes from a guest star who happens to provide a bit of continuity to Star Trek: Voyager.

5.17 – A Simple Investigation: C

“A Simple Investigation” is a romance. It’s a slow, deliberate and often tender affair, despite the film noir and mystery elements. As such, it’s a nice change of pace from the recent Deep Space Nine fare. It’s a nice story. And it allows for some important character work to be done. But there are plenty of potential barriers between this episode and viewers. The pacing is glacial. The plot is cliché and silly. Some of the character decisions don’t make a whole lot of sense. Plus, the story is, well, slow. Very. Slow.

5.18 – Business as Usual: C

“Business As Usual” is one of those “typical” Star Trek episodes which puts its characters into tight spots to prove a point about one thing or another. It’s a fairly straightforward and usually successful formula. And in this installment, the story works. The problem, though, is that it doesn’t really do anything spectacular, interesting or particularly noteworthy. The result is an episode which is, simply, average.

5.19 – Ties of Blood and Water: B

“Ties Of Blood And Water” gets high marks for its emotional impact and its attention to detail, particularly in the realm of emotions, consequences and regrets. A few questionable decisions and a relative slow pace hold it back a little, but the continuity between this story and others is enough to make it a true classic.

5.20 – Ferengi Love Songs: F

“Ferengi Love Songs” is a train wreck of of misplaced ideas, humor and stories. Almost nothing works here, from the premise to the script to the performances. Instead of humor, we get horrid. The installment increasingly grates on the nerves and the only way to endure this drivel is try to ignore it as it unfolds. I’m not sure why Deep Space Nine had such a fetish for bad Ferengi stories — there’s no reason why they all have to be nonsensical farces — but the love affair with the Ferengi is destructive and demeaning.

5.21 – Soldiers of the Empire: B

“Soldiers of the Empire” is a good Klingon episode that tilts slightly toward the melodramatic. Still, despite the heavy-handed approach to its central conflict, it nonetheless tells the tale of how far two men would go to save the honor of the other. In that sense, it’s a fine tale, worthy of being told. In many ways, this is Deep Space Nine’s version of TNG’s “A Matter of Honor.” And while the TNG installment fares better, DS9 has, shall we say, an honorable followup.

5.22 – Children of Time: B+

With “Children of Time,” Deep Space Nine does a TNG-style episode … and does it very, very well. This is a solid sci-fi story, designed in such a way as to explore some deep, meaningful questions. There are some issues in terms of story decisions and character motivations. And there are those ever-persistent paradoxes that tend to crop up with “time travel” stories. But on the whole, this is an episode with the potential to be affecting on both thoughtful and emotional levels.

5.23 – Blaze of Glory: B

“Blaze of Glory” is an episode about closure. It’s ironic (and a fantastic idea) that the answers ere wrapped in shades of grey, showing the multifaceted nature of the issues surrounding the central plot of the episode. Once again, there’s some great writing and great acting — with enough action thrown in to keep viewers on their toes. The result is an episode that is very, very good.

5.24 – Empok Nor: C+

“Empok Nor” is an exercise in mood and suspense. On those levels, it works quite well. It also features some strong character interaction, though this is perpetuated into a bit of hyperbole by the episode’s main conceit. As such, it isn’t quite as evocative or valuable as it might otherwise have been. In the end, the episode goes for broke in the hopes that the audience will hang on for the ride. The results? That all depends on how far down the rabbit hole you’re willing to go …

5.25 – In the Cards: B-

“In The Cards” is an enjoyable distraction, ending with an important, and profound thought. In many ways, it shows how infectious optimism can be, and how important it is to do things for other people. There’s a nice level of humor to the story. And the characters are fun to watch. But it’s a slow, meandering tale which takes some time to get moving and never really finds a great deal of traction. I do like the “calm before the storm” approach to this, the penultimate episode of Deep Space Nine’s fifth season (the finale will surely be a riveting affair). Still, as pleasant as this outing might be, it just isn’t a particularly exceptional episode.

5.26 – Call to Arms: A-

“A Call To Arms” features a long (almost too long) buildup to one of the best closing sequences we’ll see for a season finale in a Star Trek series. In many ways, the episode is a bit like watching a summer thunderstorm build and creep closer and closer before the torrent of wind, rain and lightning is unleashed. The one drawback to the episode, though, is that its opening paces stumble ever-so-slightly and, as such, the buildup isn’t quite as suspenseful as it might otherwise have been. No matter. The episode will be remembered much more for its final moments than the forgettable scenes which led to them.

“I don’t need magic to make a man beg for mercy.” – Cara

“Princess” is a wonderful example of how a series can inject enough humor and farce to prove that it isn’t taking itself too seriously, while still telling a riveting, compelling story. Legend of the Seeker scores an instant classic with this episode, perfectly balancing humor, character, action, story, and even a bit of thematic depth. The pacing is brisk and the comedy is legitimately funny. With solid dialogue and acting, this may be one of the most entertaining episodes of Seeker thus far.

To say that the episode moves quickly would be a monumental understatement. In short order, the Sisters of the Dark resurrect Sister Nicci (formerly played by Jolene Blaylock, now played by Emily Foxler), Nicci contacts a nobleman by the name of The Margrave (Parker Stevenson), the Margrave dispatches some Gars, and Kahlan is abducted.

All of this takes less than five minutes of screen time and, very quickly, we’re thrust into the dilemma Richard, Zedd and Cara face: How to rescue Kahlan from a castle which cancels out any magic used within its walls? Worse yet, if they don’t succeed soon enough, the Margrave will kill Kahlan in exchange for eternal life from the Keeper of the Underworld.

This doesn’t sound much like the setup for the funniest episode of the series, but that’s precisely the direction it takes. Knowing that gaining entry to the castle is of utmost importance, Zedd hatches a most amusing plan: Have Cara impersonate the Princess of Thryse, who is one of two women the Margrave is considering as his new wife. In all honesty, the premise could very easily have driven the episode off of a castle wall and into a muddy moat — especially with the stipulation that Cara speak in rhyming poetic meter whenever she addresses the Margrave, not to mention Zedd being dressed in drag as the Duchess of Thryse — but the key here is execution.

Cara’s reaction to the whole idea is a suitable combination of revulsion and resignation — she does want Richard to succeed, after all, and there is that prophecy about Kahlan’s survival being key to the demise of the Keeper. She obviously isn’t pleased with her role, but she manages to be a good sport about it all. Her wry sensibilities and personality never do quite go away and it’s fun to watch her succeed, despite the “limitations” placed on her by the arcane rules of the Margrave’s kingdom. Toss in the fact that the person Richard pretends to be is a notorious womanizer, and the episode quickly becomes very funny.

One of the most important elements to the episode’s success is its cast of supporting characters. Sister Nicci is decent enough, but both the Margrave, his Herald, and his wife are all exceptionally well-written and acted. the Margrave perfectly walks the line between being a revolting character, while still being entertaining on screen. The Herald is hilarious with his crush on the Duchess (aka Zedd). And it is through the Margrave’s wife, Orla, that it finds enough time to provide a commentary on gender equality and, even, blind faith in ideology.

After Kahlan is captured, she’s thrown into a dungeon cell. Already in the cell is Orla, the Margrave’s wife — with whom he has grown tired. He wants a new wife, so he plans to execute Orla (divorce is seemingly less palatable than outright murder). Once the Margrave chooses his new bride (either the Princess of Thryse, or the other “suitor”), he’ll kill both Kahlan and Orla to seal the deal with Sister Nicci and the Keeper of the Underworld.

For her part, Kahlan never once accepts simply staying in the cell. She immediately looks for a way to escape. She realizes that Orla could help. But Orla resists, citing The Laws of Right and Good — the arcane rules of the Margrave’s kingdom that state women must be subservient to men. Kahlan’s conversations with Orla are meant to highlight not only the need for equality, but also the dangers of believing in something — simply because someone tells you to. It’s not a huge part of the episode, but it’s significant enough to make a difference.

In fact, the idea of equality even finds some expression in both the episode’s opening scene (in which Cara and Kahlan are gathering and chopping firewood while Zedd and Richard cook dinner) and in Cara’s actions as the princess. Frustrated by the lack of success she and Zedd and Richard have in freeing Kahlan by way of the ruse, she decides to try a more direct approach. After Zedd asks her about confronting the Margrave without the powers of her Agiel, she quips. “I don’t need magic to make a man beg for mercy.”

Hilarious.

From here, the episode swings away from comedy and toward a flat-out action finale. And this is one of the reasons why the episode is so successful. It opens with plenty of suspense, finds time for humor, but doesn’t dwell on the more farcical elements of the story for too long. There’s just enough to be funny without killing the jokes. And the rest of the time the episode nicely transitions to other approaches.

And the coda, following the fight sequences, returns to the humor long enough to end the episode on a high note. The Margrave, who was wowed by Cara’s hunting prowess and physical aggressiveness quickly finds himself without either of the women he wanted. And Orla, after being convinced by Kahlan that the Laws of Right and Good were, in fact, unjust, also departs from the castle. The Margrave is left, simply, with his Herald. Then there’s Kahlan teasing Cara, Richard and Zedd about their costumes. It’s a wonderful moment because of how naturally at ease they all are. There’s a great sense of camaraderie … heck, even family, among our heroes.

Overall Grade: A

As much as I might want to criticize “Princess” for being silly and farcical, I just cannot. The execution is exceptional. So while there are more meaningful, suspenseful or riveting installments of Legend of the Seeker, very few of them manage to be as well-balanced as this one.  Heck, even the music is particularly good.

There are some very promising elements in Caprica’s “There Is Another Sky” and it will be interesting to see how they develop. However, the series is still terribly unfocused and uneven. Instead of more deeply exploring existing characters and plot threads, it adds new ones. It’s the classic case of quantity over quality. Fortunately for this episode, though, there are enough tantalizing ideas and developments to make it just slightly above average. It works here. But it’s not a formula that can sustain the series.

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With “Lighthouse,” Lost has another addition to its string of excellently produced episodes which may or may not have a lasting impact. There’s no question that this is a thoughtful, carefully constructed episode, with plenty of symbolism and continuity. It’s also quite entertaining, with a wonderful blend of humor, drama, mystery and suspense. But as a standalone story, this installment is unevenly paced. And without a clearer connection between its two primary storylines, it’s difficult at best to draw any meaningful conclusions about the events that unfold.

I think the biggest problem this episode has – and indeed, the biggest challenge that the series currently faces – is in what to make of the “flashsideways” vignettes. The mystery of what they are certainly makes viewers want to tune in again and again to find out what might be going on. This helps the series as a whole, but not knowing the true nature of these side stories poses a problem: How do they relate to the characters we know so well already? Are they simply a tapestry of “What if the plane had never crashed?” Are they the result of Juliet blowing up the bomb and creating a totally separate reality? Are they the result of Jacob’s death? Are they a precursor to these people ending up on the Island anyway? The answers will change how we perceive these vignettes.

As a case-in-point, we have this week’s focus on Jack, and the revelation that, in this “mirror universe,” Jack is the father of a preteen son, named David. Through their interactions, it’s clear that the two have a strained relationship, including the fact that Jack does not live with David’s mother. We also learn that Jack’s son is a prodigy piano player. By the end of the episode, Jack has a heart-to-heart conversation with David about expectations of excellence – explaining that his own father, Christian had high expectations. But Jack also says that, no matter what, he believes in and loves his son – a clear break from how he was treated by Christian.

Seeing how Jack would handle being a father is fascinating. But how does this relate to the Jack we’ve invested so much time exploring over five seasons? Is this really the same Jack? What character elements are we meant to take from these scenes? That Jack would do things differently than his father? The series needs to be a bit better at framing these vignettes to really help make them be more meaningful to the characters and the overall story. I’m sure that, by the end of the series, we’ll have our answers. But in the meantime, the lack of explanation is a detriment to the episode as a standalone installment.

None of this, of course, is a critique on the actual craft of the episode. Indeed, there are plenty of small-yet-signifcant moments. Jack looks in a mirror (another “mirror” reference) and notices his appendix-scar. But at first he doesn’t seem to remember how or when it happened. The key to David’s mother’s house is kept under a ceramic rabbit. And like the fifth episode of the first season, this episode is another one to focus on father-son issues in the Shephard family.

Jack’s story also continues on the Island. We begin with Hurley who has another encounter with Jacob. Hurley is given instructions to bring Jack on a journey across the Island to help someone arrive safely (who that someone is remains a mystery at episode’s end). What ensues are a few very funny scenes involving Hurley – “I just lied to a Samurai!” and “[Jacob] just appears and disappears like Obi-Wan Kenobi!” – proving once again that Hurley is becoming one of the most consistently entertaining characters on the series. It’s also fun to see Hurley and Jack on another adventure quest through the jungle. The meet Kate, pass by the caves from Season one (finding Shannon’s old inhaler and the two skeletons) before arriving at The Lighthouse.

It’s at the Lighthouse that the episode provides some of its biggest revelations.

Inexplicably, the mirrors inside the Lighthouse reflect scenes from all of the “candidates” lives, including (among many things) Jack’s childhood home. Listed on the “compass” around the mirrors are the names of the candidates along with numbers, almost like degrees on a compass. This of course begs the question, how exactly do the numbers relate to the names? And why were “The Numbers” from previous seasons limited only to a select few? Very intriguing. As is Jack’s reaction to feeling as though he’s been manipulated by Jacob: He smashes the mirrors.

All of which begs the questions: How is the image (or idea) of a Lighthouse significant to these stories? Clearly Jack is looking for a direction of some kind. For a while now, it’s seemed as if his character has been adrift. Is this Jacob’s way of giving Jack a beacon, something he can move toward? A new purpose? These questions are the best elements of the episode.

There’s also a subplot involving Claire and Jin. Claire is, clearly, deranged. She’s paranoid and ultra-violent. It’s actually a compelling performance. But she also helps Jin by stitching the wounds from the trap. Jin seems grateful, but when Claire captures an “other” and is on the verge of killing him, Jin realizes that Claire is too far gone: He lies to her about Aaron, in the hopes of saving the Other. It doesn’t work. But Jin’s problems get a whole lot worse when Claire’s “friend” arrives. Locke – or rather The Man In Black – pops into Claire’s hideout and greets Jin.

Overall Grade: B-

“Lighthouse” is an episode that gets most of its credit from the craft with which the episode was constructed, and not necessarily on story or character elements. It feels more like an average installment and not a true classic. Still, there’s enough here to keep fans interested in the story and characters. I’ll reserve final judgment on the episode until the end of the series. Hopefully, by then, there will be a clearer framework for analyzing what transpires on screen.

“Hunger” is a very, very good episode of Legend of the Seeker. Despite a few obvious plot developments, the story manages to be both suspenseful and character-driven. Along with some welcome continuity to the first season of the series, this episode manages to tell an entertaining and meaningful tale.

After the Seeker is distracted (yet again!) from his quest to find the Stone of Tears, Cara is killed trying to help some villagers. She wakes up in the Underworld and immediately calls for Darken Rahl. She wants to become a Baneling. Rahl isn’t quite so sure about Cara’s motives, but through the strength of her personality, she convinces him to grant her “the deal” — kill one person a day, in exchanged for being brought back to life. The question then remains: What will Cara do? Will she tell Richard about her deal? Who will she kill?

These questions form the central conflict and tension of the story. And they work exceptionally well. The biggest reason for this success is the investment the series has made in Cara’s character so far. She isn’t just tagging along. She’s a complex and thoroughly entertaining character and so when she’s faced with this crisis, the audience can easily identify with her conflicts.

That she chooses to return as a Baneling in order to protect Richard and convey some vital information about missing villagers speaks to the evolution of Cara as a person. She’s no longer a bloodthirsty, mindless villain. She has an edge. She’s still very driven, often cynical, and deadly. But her motives have evolved. She cares about Richard and his quest. And through her interactions with Richard, Kahlan and Zedd, she cares about other people as well.

Because of this, Cara’s “sacrifice” is all the more poignant. She accepts a role as, literally, a monster, simply to continue to act in the name of good. Her decision brings up the idea of whether or not the ends justify the means. But in Cara’s case, it’s her motives that make all the difference. By protecting Richard, she has killed plenty of times. Now she *must* kill … but if it’s in the name of good, why not?

Cara’s story is nicely integrated into a subplot featuring Zedd’s brother and the shyster salesman from Season One’s “Bounty.” Zedd’s brother shows up at Sebastian’s shop and offers to sell a few trinkets. Amongst the rabble, Sebastian finds “Shadow Water” — which just so happens to cure Banelings.

This “coincidence” is easily the weakest element of the episode, coming across as either too convenient or too contrived. Still, it’s not a critical error. And the inclusion of Zedd’s brother, who has done almost nothing in his life for other people, will become a very important element to Cara’s story. Plus, the return to Sebastian and his magical maps is a fun reminder of the first season.

Cara does her best to keep her affliction hidden from her friends — even after they learn about the potion being peddled by Sebastian and Zedd’s brother. She kills the man responsible for capturing the villagers and a random D’Haran soldier. But her “hunger” cannot be satiated. And Darken Rahl is a constant reminder to her: Kill, or face an eternity of torment in the Underworld.

All of which leads us to the episode’s closing sequence. Cara, along with Richard, Zedd, Kahlan, and Zedd’s brother are searching for the source of the Shadow Water. But they are miles from anyone. And Cara needs to kill again. Darken Rahl appears to her and encourages her to kill the weak brother of Zedd (Darken Rahl has plans for Zedd’s brother). And Cara comes close to doing so. But she doesn’t.

And that makes all the difference.

What Cara demonstrates is that both intent and choice are incredibly important. They truly help distinguish between good and evil. She chooses not to kill Zedd’s brother, but in doing so, she reveals her nature to her friends, and dooms herself to a life of torment. And as if to reinforce how powerful choice and sacrifice are to the greater good, Zedd’s brother impales himself on Cara’s dagger, allowing her to live long enough to find the source of the Shadow Water.

This really wasn’t a plot twist because it was fairly evident that it was going to happen. But even so, it works wonderfully. Heck, even the way Zedd’s brother breaks down under Darken Rahl’s torture in the Underworld is very true-to-form. That Cara is saved and is able to revive Zedd’s brother may seem a bit too neat and tidy, but within the context of the episode … it works.

In truth, my only real criticism of the episode is in the very last scene … which shows Zedd’s brother back with Sebastian, trying to peddle a miracle cure. I realize it’s meant purely for a chuckle, but it undermines the sacrifice Zedd’s brother makes. It would have been enough to let him walk off into the sunset.

Overall Grade: A-

“Hunger” is an exceptional episode. It features strong character development and some solid thematic work. The story is suspenseful, despite the obvious “reset” conclusion. And about the only real criticism comes from the very last moment. Otherwise, this is one of the best installments of the series to date.

“Gravedancing” is an awkward, meandering, and mostly unremarkable episode of Caprica. Very little happens either naturally or organically. Most of the situations and conflicts are forced. And there’s almost no dramatic payoff. There are a few glimmers of hope, mostly toward the end of the episode. But otherwise, this is very much a subpar outing for a series that is in desperate need of a truly good episode.

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Lost gets back on track, in terms of narrative, with “The Substitute,” an episode which features a tightly focused plot and some very compelling characterizations. There are a few pacing issues early on, but as the episode unfolds, the story becomes increasingly engaging and entertaining. There’s plenty of mystery afoot, but in typical Lost nature, the answers come with at least as many questions. All told, this is a strong episode, moving the story forward, while keeping characters and questions firmly in mind.

The primary focus of this episode is Locke — well, Locke in the alternate timeline and … whatever he is now on the Island. What’s fascinating is the fact that, while Locke is clearly dead on the Island, the impostor takes on some of Locke’s more pronounced character traits (namely, “Don’t tell me what I can’t do!”). But while I liked the characterizations, I’m not so sure that the episode really has all that much to say about the characters themselves, other than, perhaps, Sawyer.

The alternate timeframe finds Locke living with (and engaged to) Helen. They are planning their wedding, but plans are derailed when Locke is fired (he skipped out on the company’s conference to go to his Walkabout — which, like in Season 1, is an experience that he is denied because of his handicap). The fallout from this is for Locke to begin searching for a new job … and some direction in his life.

There are, of course, the requisite “chance” encounters, like bumping into the owner of the company he was fired from (Hugo) and meeting the temp agency manager (Rose). But the most significant scene comes from when Locke and Helen have a discussion about his disability. Helen had been encouraging Locke to call Jack’s number. But Locke took this as yet another attempt from someone to get him to be something that he is not — someone who doesn’t believe he can be and do everything, even in his current condition. It’s a striking moment — and a nice character one at that — because it reveals the deep insecurities within Locke.

Ultimately, the episode has one last opportunity for “chance” encounters. Locke has gotten a job as a substitute teacher (one of the reasons for the title of the episode). He rolls into the teacher’s lounge and meets … history teacher, Benjamin Linus. They immediately strike up a mutual respect.

This is contrasted on the Island when Sun insists that she, Frank, Ilana and Ben bury Locke’s body. At the funeral, Ilana asks someone to say a word. Surprisingly, this turns out to be the episode’s funniest moment. Ben steps up to say a few words, commenting on Locke’s “faith” before mutter, “And I am very sorry I murdered him.” — to which no one present has any idea how to react. Frank, who seems to roll with the punches better than anyone, just says under his breath, “Weirdest damned funeral I’ve ever been to.”

Hilarious.

More serious are the exploits of the Impostor, The Man In Black. In an interesting twist, we get to see the Island from his perspective as he travels around as the Smoke Monster. After that, he interrogates Richard, offering answers. Man In Black is distracted, though, by the sudden appearance of a small, blonde-haired boy. Eventually, Man In Black finds Sawyer, and that’s where the episode really begins to pick up the pace.

At seeing Locke, Sawyer quips, “I thought you were dead.” Locke responds, “I am.” And we’re off. Locke promises Sawyer answers. Sawyer, thoroughly disillusioned by the actions of Jack and the death of Juliet is easily led by Locke. But it’s not as if Sawyer is completely blinded by the promises of answers. At one point, referencing Steinbeck’s “Of Mice And Men,” Sawyer pulls a gun on Locke. But the lure proves too strong and, finally, Sawyer does get some answers.

Ultimately, Locke leads Sawyer to a remote cave in which there is a great deal of writing. What we (and Sawyer) see are names and numbers. The names of the deceased have been crossed out, the names of the living (like Reyes, Kwon, Shepherd, Ford) are accompanied by one of The Numbers. It’s a moment that gives the audience a hint as to the significance of The Numbers, and their connection to the people on The Island.

Overall Grade: B

“The Substitute” is a fascinating episode. The mysteries of Lost are, if nothing else, something worth figuring out. The episode does a competent job of focusing on the character of Locke. But truth-be-told, we’re a long, long way from the deeply meaningful episodes of the early run of the series. This is fantastic entertainment, and the title’s play on words is effective (John Locke the substitute teacher, the Man In Black looking for a substitute on the Island), but I do wish the episodes found some way to convey the thematic and character depth they had earlier in the series.

“Torn” is a very good episode of Legend of the Seeker. At its heart, it’s a character exploration. But it also features a surprisingly brisk pace, good dialogue, and a reasonably suspenseful plot (even if the central mystery is tad bit on the obvious side). What makes the episode work is its rationale and its execution. The ideas aren’t especially new, but because they are presented with a reasonable amount of craft, this is one installment that ought not to be missed.

When Kahlan learns that there is trouble in her homeland, she is, literally, torn between her pledge to help Richard and her sense of duty to her people. When Zedd uses an amulet to transport her home, the inner conflict within her causes something very strange to happen: two Kahlans appear. One transports to Aydindril, the other stays with Richard. And each version of Kahlan is very different from the one we know. It’s a revelation that isn’t immediately clear in the episode, but is, actually, almost immediately recognizable.

But this is where the episode really begins to earn its accolades. Despite the fact that it’s obvious that there are two Kahlans — that one of them is “evil” while the other is “good” — there’s still a great deal of character work being done, not to mention commentary on the human condition.

As a point of fact, this episode is not all that different in construction to Star Trek’s “The Enemy Within“, in which a transporter accident results in two different versions of Captain Kirk running around on board the USS Enterprise. That was a pretty good episode. But this one, from Legend of the Seeker, turns out to be much better.

For starters, the explanation for how the split occurs is much more poetic. Kahlan is literally split between duty and love. It’s her own inner conflict which causes the split, rather some random accident. And so the two versions of herself embody those two ideals. This means that each version isn’t strictly a caricature of “good” or “evil” but rather a distinct half of a greater whole.

The Kahlan in Aydindril is ruled entirely by duty, by reason … to the point where compassion is an alien concept. The Kahlan who remains with Richard is ruled entirely by love, by passion … to the point where rationality is an alien concept. They are two parts of a whole. They are Kahlan … but they are not Kahlan. The one in Aydindril retains her Confessor powers while the other is completely without them. And so the episode becomes a story about how these two halves will, once again, be made whole.

I suppose one could quibble about the fact that each Kahlan, freed from the bonds of inner conflict, finds someone with which to spend her evening (Richard and the confessed-former-ruler of Aydindril). But even this seemingly melodramatic development actually makes sense within the parameters of the story. Each Kahlan finds herself released from her self-imposed inhibitions. As a result, it makes sense that each would act on the newfound sense of freedom.

Ultimately, this becomes a wonderfully subtle commentary on the human condition — on how we need both our reason and our compassion, both our ambition and our sense of duty, to be a complete person. Such qualities are part of us all, and make us who we are. We cannot simply ignore those aspects of ourselves. To do so would deny at least half of who we are.

The only misstep in the episode is in the fact that the two Kahlans never find any measure of reconciliation. I think such a moment would have really driven home the episode’s message about the necessity of our dual natures. But even so, this is a strong episode, featuring a nicely nuanced performance from both Kahlans, and some amusing dialogue, particularly from Cara.

Overall Grade: A-

On the whole, “Torn” is one of the better episodes from Legend of the Seeker. It features an entertaining and meaningful story and a deep exploration of Kahlan’s character. All told, this was not only fun, but also provocative.

“Reins of a Waterfall” is an improvement for Caprica. On the whole, the series is doing a very good job of developing its central mysteries. But character inconsistencies notwithstanding, this is an episode that really delves into the deeper elements of the overall story arc — elements like trust, revenge, faith, conspiracy, love, and thirst for power. Make no mistake, this is a melodrama on a very grand scale. But the unabashed approach is, in some ways, refreshing. This isn’t a show that is afraid to hides its over-the-top style. As such, the drastic events are a bit easier to swallow — even if they are, you know, radical for both viewers and the characters themselves.

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