Doom Patrol (2019) s04e10 – Tomb Patrol

How do you follow up an episode where your season villain, an omnipotent time deity played by Charity Cervantes, changed the entire world into a musical? If you’re “Doom Patrol,” with an almost limitless well of human despair. The main cast—April Bowlby, Diane Guerrero, Matt Bomer, and Brendan Fraser—are all rapidly aging to their deaths. And half of them have either new or pre-existing conditions in play as well; they’re not just on the decline; they’re even further than they expected.

While Bowlby is playing Donna Reed to ignore the situation, Guerrero, Bomer, and Fraser are all luxuriating in their individual miseries. Guerrero can’t find the other personas in the Underground, and she’s thinking maybe she does like that girl (Madeline Zima, who only appears in flashbacks), but she’s also having uncontrollable slips in time back to her profound childhood abuse. Bomer—with Matthew Zuk doing a fantastic job doing the physical work on set—is trying to figure out what to do about his radioactive space symbiote when he dies. It means he doesn’t have time for love interest Sendhil Ramamurthy, who’s also about to die because Cervantes turned out to be a high school theater department narcissist and not a benevolent god. It also means Bomer doesn’t have time for best friend Bowlby.

And then Fraser just wants to go see his daughter and grandson, trying to involve Guerrero in his shenanigans, but she’s still a little put out he betrayed them all. Except she can’t stay mad at him forever (how could you), giving the duo a fantastic mutual despondence arc. Absolutely phenomenal body acting from Riley Shanahan this episode, too. So, so good.

Joivan Wade is off at Star Labs with dad Phil Morris, talking through his regrets at giving up Cyborg. It’s basically just an opportunity to get Wade and Morris a scene in before the end of the season (and show, we now know); it’s so good to see Morris again. It’s also a good showcase for Wade, who gets to hash out a lot of his internal angst.

Wade’s not dying with the rest of the team, nor is Michelle Gomez. Gomez spends the episode trying to save the Doom Patrol, except they’re all too aged to want to help. Bowlby, in particular, has resigned herself to her fate, which figures into the outstanding cliffhanger.

All the acting’s real good. Bowlby gets a great scene “with” Bomer (I do wonder how they record his conversations; are they really just dubbing him over line readings, in which case the other actors are even better). Gomez has some great moments (she’s the show’s de facto lead at this point). Cervantes is great.

The show’s trucking along just fine towards its finish. Director Omar Madha might not have clicked with the musical material, but he’s real darn good with the angst.

Oh, and the butts.

The butts are back.

Doom Patrol (2019) s04e09 – Immortimas Patrol

Immortimas Patrol gives away some of the bit during the opening titles when the “Doom Patrol” theme gets an acapella cover version. Last episode ended with big bad Charity Cervantes getting pissed off. The town was celebrating the Doom Patrol for rescuing her, not her for being rescued, and she did something. This episode, we find out what she did was turn the world into a musical.

All of the series regulars get to participate in the musical in some capacity. Brendan Fraser and Matt Bomer get to show up in person since Fraser’s not a Robotman in Cervantes’s alternated reality. Bomer gets to be a square-jawed hunk worthy of beau Sendhil Ramamurthy. Fraser sticks around the whole episode, even doing a duet with Riley Shanahan (as Robotman—so Fraser is double-voicing), while Bomer’s one of the first to get back to normal.

In his case, normal meaning back into the full face bandages and Matthew Zuk taking over. Zuk and Ramamurthy have a great dance number. Do Bomer and Ramamurthy have a great duet? It’s complicated.

The episode’s a good entry in the very special musical episode every show does these days, and a couple of the songs are catchy, but it is somewhat slight. The whole thing builds to Cervantes coming over for Immortimas Day dinner; even though she hates the Doom Patrol, she desperately wants their approval, too. Once she arrives, there’s a great “I am Spartacus” scene at the table as people decide whether they want to stay or not.

But it’s not a musical number.

And outside Madeline Zima deciding opposite Diane Guerrero because Guerrero doesn’t like her back (romantically), there’s not much relevant character development from the episode. The characters get their appropriate numbers—Zima and Guerrero have a duet about liking each other even if they haven’t shared, Fraser gets to sing about the joys of the flesh, Joivan Wade gets a big Disney hero song number complete with spinning and raised arms, April Bowlby and Michelle Gomez sing about their very complicated friendship, Bomer and Ramamurthy have the singing that goes along with the dance number, and Abi Monterey gets to sing about belonging somewhere.

Everyone’s perfectly happy in the fake reality until Gomez wakes up and decides she doesn’t want to sing all her dialogue. So, she starts bringing the team back online so they can confront Cervantes.

There’s some excellent acting from Gomez this episode, and Zima does a fantastic job. Plus, it’s fun to see Fraser and Guerrero get to goof in real time.

The musical trappings sometimes seem more like a flex than a necessity. But only sometimes; other times, the episode does indeed show why the musical numbers are precisely what’s needed.

Maybe if the ending had landed with more oomph, or if director Omar Madha had a different touch, it’d be more successful. It’s a good episode with some solid highlights, but it never lets loose. “Doom Patrol” doesn’t often feel too short; Immortimas feels too short.

Doom Patrol (2019) s03e07 – Bird Patrol

Wow, late forties Communist paranoia doesn’t age well. It’s okay for a plot point, but showcasing how Michelle Gomez goes down the rabbit hole does an incredible job setting up her villain arc. It’s the big reveal on her; she’s just an American numbskull. Though the character’s Scottish, so she’s a Scot affecting American idiocy. It’s kind of great? It’s not dramatic at all; basically, she’s just going to be a betrayer, and we’ll get to watch that realization play out on people’s faces, but there’s only one related action set-piece, and it’s the cliffhanger. Otherwise, it’s all just watching Gomez hurt people. One after the other, as it becomes more and more evident, she’s lost her humanity to fear and hate.

Not sure how the show’s going to explain Gomez getting her memory back in the present as the audience learns about it through the flashbacks–well, linear flashbacks but April Bowlby’s ostensibly experiencing it in real-time though not as much this episode. Gomez is the star in the flashbacks, with Bowlby now just one of the Sisterhood of Dada.

The show’s actually getting through the Sisterhood of Dada stuff really fast. The subplots are all still dawdling—nicely dawdling, but still—and the Dada stuff is racing. Especially given this episode’s cliffhanger. We get one big reveal, then another, then another, then the cliffhanger.

The subplots have Brendan Fraser and Riley Shanahan back at daughter Bethany Anne Lind’s to babysit, even though it’s clear his malfunctions are continuing. Matt Bomer’s actually got a big early episode revelation with his giant zit subplot. And then Bomer’s the one in the present interacting with Gomez the most when she’s still cool. Diane Guerrero’s got more internal drama with Skye Roberts and company. It’s the most forced subplot, maybe because Guerrero doesn’t engage with anyone out in the world about it.

The most significant subplot is Joivan Wade, who’s going through with a synthetic skin treatment. Through either luck or contrivance, when dad Phil Morris (who doesn’t appear but Karen Obilom does have a lovely scene, albeit remotely) turned Wade into Cyborg, he made it easy to uninstall all the mechanicals and replace them with artificial skin. Okay, maybe not the biggest subplot, but the most dramatic. Wade losing his tech is more impactful (so far) than Fraser being inept at playing grandpa, Guerrero’s turmoil, and then Bomer’s thing.

Lots of good acting—Gomez, Bowlby, the flashback guest stars.

Though I did think the season had thirteen episodes, and it’s got ten, which means we’re heading into the wrap-up, and I didn’t realize it. Still, the show’s in excellent shape.

Doom Patrol (2019) s03e06 – 1917 Patrol

The A-plot this episode is April Bowlby in the past. We get to see her trip in the time machine, which explains how time travelers lose their memories—it’s an intense, affecting sequence with narration from Matt Bomer (I think). Or maybe guest star Micah Joe Parker. Or neither of them. Either would also make sense.

But she gets to the past and pretty quickly finds herself in the custody of the Bureau of Normalcy, where she finds some answers to the questions Michelle Gomez is asking in the future. Only Bowlby can’t remember she knows Gomez in the future and isn’t trying to get back to the future, not when she finds good friends in everyone in the past and a love interest in Parker. Of course, Bowlby and her friends are meta-humans being exploited by the bigoted Bureau (not to mention held captive), but it could be a lot worse. Especially since her friends all have good escapism powers.

It seems like the show will eventually do an intricate time travel loop with the past informing the future informing the past. Wait, it already does. Add another couple of loops. The show’s having a good time with it, but also getting in some excellent character development. And it’s nice the guest star “villains” last episode, the Sisterhood of Dada (who Bowlby finds in the past), have a thoughtful backstory.

Meanwhile, in the present, Gomez is still trying to figure out what the Sisterhood wants with her, not to mention being pissed Bowlby stole her time machine. She can’t get any help from Robotman (Brendan Fraser and Riley Shanahan) because he’s busy being addicted to online pay-to-play gaming and cam girls as a way of avoiding problems. The episode places a hold on Fraser and Gomez this episode—Shanahan gets more than Fraser to do in the part this episode, which doesn’t often happen–while keeping the other team members’ arcs going.

So Diane Guerrero gets the B-plot. Little kid version Skye Roberts wants to drive the body and see the world for the first time in seventy years. Guerrero encourages her, the other personalities do not. It ends up being Guerrero doing a Roberts impression, and it works well enough. If only Guerrero were as compelling playing “herself” as when she’s playing other people controlling her body. The subplot is simultaneously rushed and truncated, but it keeps the arc going.

Similarly, Matt Bomer and Joivan Wade make some progress. Bomer with his estranged, old man son John Getz (who’s absolutely fantastic), Wade as he tries to work out his whole existence. On the sliding scale of episode investment, Wade comes in just above Fraser, but it’s really good stuff. “Doom Patrol”’s doing a great job making its characters the most compelling aspect.

Particularly great acting from Bowlby, Gomez, and Bomer.

Also, Omar Madha’s direction is excellent. It’s actually an uneven episode, but the peaks are so sky-high they easily compensate.

Doom Patrol (2019) s02e04 – Sex Patrol

At some point someone working on “Doom Patrol” decided they weren’t messing around and gave Alan Mingo Jr. a truly devastating speech about transgender people’s humanity—to Joivan Wade—and it’s a wow aside in the episode. Sex Patrol goes all the way from hilarious to terrifying to, well, titillating but when Mingo delivers that monologue… everything else stops (in just the right way).

Mingo is back because Danny the Street is in trouble and they called out to all the for Danizens (Danny the Street is so well done I’m just going with it). Mingo—along with gone since last season but still as scantily clad and wholesome as ever Devan Long—shows up at the mansion, interrupting Timothy Dalton trying to lie to Abi Monterey about things being okay, and get the literal party started.

Monterey, despite being an almost life-long Danizen herself, never got to go to a Danny party and she really wants to stay up for this one, which gives the episode it’s fantastic “Hours til Bedtime” device. So good. Not sure if it was writers Eric Dietel and Tanya Steele who came up with it but it’s perfect.

The episode mostly follows Monterey and her attempts to stay up late without Dalton finding out. Only she’s got a terrifying invisible monster friend who’s telling her she needs to start a lot of real trouble, which leads to a very difficult arc for Monterey. Her casting is really working out for the show.

But while the narrative follows Monterey it’s because the bigger plot line needs to have some surprise value for maximum effect. See, April Bowlby needs a big favor from Long and neither of them really understand the ramifications of him granting her request. But it leads to a fantastic, action-packed finale….

Right before the appropriately terrifying, absolutely heartbreaking cliffhanger. Because it turns out the real plot line of the episode—and the season so far, actually—is how the entire team are bad dads. Except Wade. He’s just on his way toward it. And Bowlby. Though she’s got the bad dad in her too.

The hopeful part is it’s about why they shouldn’t be bad dads. But it also might be too late.

So good. And also frequently hilarious because of the Robotman (Brendan Fraser talks, Riley Shanahan walks) ecstasy subplot.

Not a typo.