The Twilight Zone (1959) s02e15 – The Invaders

One of my major complaints about “The Twilight Zone” is the ending reveal somehow distracts from the rest of the episode. It’s a “gotcha” moment. And The Invaders does have a gotcha moment, and it does shuffle star Agnes Moorehead off-screen ingloriously, but at least it doesn’t do anything to undercut her performance.

The episode begins with host Rod Serling explaining we’re at a farmhouse, not unlike many other farmhouses, except this one doesn’t have electricity. And its sole occupant, Moorehead, has lived on her own for many years. That detail seems to be setting up Moorehead not to have any dialogue. Throughout the episode, as she becomes more and more agitated, she gets more and more vocal, but there’s a hard limit.

The “no electricity” detail allows for much of the episode’s terror. Moorehead goes from hearing sounds on the roof to battling the unexpected–tiny little alien men. The aliens have heat weapons, which cause welts–one of Moorehead’s best scenes (in twenty-some minutes of great scenes) is when she’s silently discovering her injuries and trying to dress the wounds. They may or may not jet pack technology. The episode’s definite about how many Invaders Moorehead has to fight, but it also likes having danger behind every door, around every corner. It’s dark, after all, and there are going to be noises from their spacesuits, so why not amp it up?

Heyes does a fantastic job directing the episode, embracing the limited lighting–Moorehead’s on a quest for survival through the unseen familiar, but with new danger. Most of the episode showcases Moorehead’s performance. There are a handful of action set pieces; otherwise, it’s all about Moorehead’s expressions of fear, determination, and anger. With the scant details Serling delivers at the opening, we’re able to contextualize Moorehead’s experience until the twist, which intentionally turns it over.

Outstanding teleplay from Richard Matheson. Did he write all the little moments for Moorehead or were they actor’s prerogative? There are certain story beats–finding the spaceship, losing this candle or that candle, planning scenes–but when it’s not an effects sequence, Invaders feels more like Moorehead’s doing a one-person show and showing off. She’s spellbinding.

The special effects are adorable. The aliens are just mechanized toys, which someone had a great time making ambulatory. They mostly stand still and shoot at Moorehead with their phasers or whatever, but every once in a while it’s like somehow tossed them across the shot and–whee–jet packs.

The ending twist changes the entire episode–Rod Serling’s got to be the least reliable narrator in television history–but Moorehead’s already done such fantastic work, there’s no lessening factor. Also–highly recommend watching with the lights out. Heyes and cinematographer George T. Clemens clearly meant it to be an uncanny tale for the dark.

Oh, and the Jerry Goldsmith score is excellent, too.


Doom Patrol (2019) s04e12 – Done Patrol

As usual with “Doom Patrol,” I wasn’t expecting that turn of events. I knew “Patrol” had planned something conclusive for this season, but Done Patrol is a last episode, not a season finale before a refresh. They knew and didn’t play chicken with renewal, which is exemplary these days.

The team—Diane Guerrero, Joivan Wade, Michelle Gomez, Matt Bomer (and Matthew Zuk), and Brendan Fraser (Riley Shanahan)—returns from the time stream, ready to battle Charity Cervantes and the Butts, but then a deus ex machine arrives at the same time. This season has had some weird straggler plot threads—split into two halves, with the second half delayed thanks to bad corporate decisions; given how long subplots disappear, it’s the most binge-inclined season of the show.

Also, as usual, the team has to decompress after the big action. They’re aging, some more gracefully than others, and everyone’s got a severe sense of resignation. While April Bowlby’s committed to peacing out on her terms and Gomez is terrified to live without her, everyone else is ready for some significant character changes. Some, of course, have seen the future, while others are getting over their fears of the present.

The show’s got six characters to resolve to be Done, and some get a little more, some a little less. “Doom Patrol”’s always been about hard realities, and the conclusion’s no different. Does it reach into the chest and pummel the heart before playing the most delicate aria on the heartstrings? Yes, yes, it does. It fulfills so much, even as it remains—to the end—all about unfulfilled lives.

The best performance in the episode, adjusted for screen time (sort of, I guess), is Fraser. Then Gomez, then Guerrero, then Bowlby, then Bomer, then Wade. And Wade’s excellent. So there’s a lot of exquisite acting going on. Oh, and then Cervantes. Can’t forget Cervantes. She’s been another boon this season. Half-season. Speaking of boons, Madeline Zima. She’s so good, so good.

I just discovered there’s a cameo in the episode I didn’t know about when watching, but it’s just making everything even sadder, so no spoilers. I’m too verklempt.

Shoshana Sachi and Ezra Claytan Daniels get the writing credit for the finish; it’s a fine script covering all the show’s bases, and director Chris Manley knows how to direct these actors in these scenes. It’s the ones they’ve been working towards for four seasons. “Patrol”’s done wonders with character development on a “comic book” TV show.

Some gorgeous music from Kevin Kiner and Clint Mansell.

Despite the fungible aspect of comic books and comic book adaptations, it’s safe to say there will never be another “Doom Patrol,” not with this cast, not with this crew. They made something special here, and it’ll be a divine binge someday.

Grantchester (2014) s08e04

“Grantchester” toes an interesting line with religion and religiosity. It avoids it. Yes, the show’s full of religious imagery, complete with beautifully lighted sequences where Tom Brittney gives a lovely sermon and it’s never about being shitty; it’s always about how God’s actually all for the gays and so forth. Because, besides Brittney and Al Weaver, all of the characters on the show are functionally atheists. Even the extremely religious Tessa Peake-Jones. She doesn’t believe the way Brittney and Weaver believe.

It comes out this episode big time with Brittney. Turns out he lied to Charlotte Ritchie last episode, and he’s not okay; he’s not getting better—even worse, we find out God doesn’t talk to him anymore. Now, no spoilers, but we will find out some things about how God speaks to Brittney. Good tortured expression acting from Brittney; if writer Helen Black wasn’t trying to make a certain point, however… well, it’s concerning. Or is it just going to be about the de-faithing of England. Or it’s just a story arc and not a big deal.

God abandoning Brittney is a story arc because they need to get Brittney moping. “Grantchester” was infamously about a mopey vicar who got drunk, listened to jazz, and bedded many, many women while mooning over some shallow girl. Brittney isn’t that mopey vicar. He doesn’t have the mope down, not as an actor, not as a character. When Brittney mopes, it feels like he’s overstepping—“Grantchester”’s supposed to be an ensemble now, and his moping is getting in the way. Also, he’s not being self-destructive; he’s just moping.

He’s not even listening to jazz.

Good mystery this episode. One of Weaver’s halfway house residents turns up dead. Santo Tripodi plays the victim. Halfway house troublemaker Narinder Samra is a too-obvious suspect. “Grantchester” has been letting Samra simmer nicely in the background for a couple episodes, and it really pays off here–Samra’s phenomenal. See, even though the town wants the halfway house gone, when Brittney and Robson Green start investigating, they learn these men mostly just lost their way after a war. So it’s a very personal case.

And let’s not forget Peake-Jones’s husband, Nick Brimble, is paying for the halfway house, which Weaver started after deciding he didn’t want to run his cafe (which Brimble also paid for), leaving boyfriend Oliver Dimsdale to run the cafe and be a photographer. Weaver’s got a tough arc this episode. They leave it open, too, so hopefully, we’ll get some more material for Weaver and Dimsdale before the season’s done.

There are only two more episodes, so if it’s not a subplot by now, it won’t be a subplot.

It also seems like Ritchie won’t figure in prominently, which is too bad. Especially since Brittney’s just moping instead.

Anyway.

Good supporting performances from all the suspects—David Rubin as the guy with a locked room alibi, George Brockbanks as an old collar of Green’s, Jessie Bedrossian as the one female resident in the house, who might be causing love triangles. It’s a really good mystery–definitely the best of the season, with a great finale.

And Simone Lahbib’s still around. She joined last episode as Weaver’s maid, who now gets into competitions with Peake-Jones, which is hilarious. It gives Brimble a little more to do than usual. He’s still mostly an accessory, but he gets to keep pace with an amped-up Peake-Jones.

Outside the ending, which just foretells more sad Brittney… it’s a stellar episode. Director Rob Evans and writer Anita Vettesse cook up a model “Grantchester.”

Doom Patrol (2019) s04e11 – Portal Patrol

As penultimate episodes go, Portal Patrol is a doozy. The team has found themselves stranded in the time stream, so it’s good Joivan Wade got his Cyborg upgrades because he has to make them a little pod to survive. The current stakes are saving the world and April Bowlby (who doesn’t appear this episode), so when they discover holes in time where they might be able to regain their missing immortality, everyone heads out on assignment.

Now, the opening titles spoil a big guest star—Timothy Dalton. Former series regular slash ostensible lead, who’s been dead for seasons at this point, and everyone’s still trying to work through the traumas he’s inflicted. Brendan Fraser (and Riley Shanahan) meet Dalton in the past when he’s on an outing with recurring guest star Mark Sheppard. Except they’re in 1948, so neither Dalton nor Sheppard knows Fraser. And Fraser’s left trying to reason with a fascinated Dalton and a drunk Sheppard. Outstanding acting from Fraser, Dalton, and Shanahan. The body work this episode’s terrific.

Diane Guerrero and Matt Bomer (and Matthew Zuk) find themselves in the more recent past, in the Doom Patrol mansion. Guerrero’s on a combination “dying of old age” and just getting some of her PTSD resolved arc, so she’s drawn to all the old VHS tapes of her (now missing) personas. Meanwhile, Bomer and Zuk confront… Bomer and Zuk. Bomer’s current alien symbiote star child goes to find the former alien symbiote star child, and Bomer gets into an argument with it. Of course, he does.

But Guerrero runs into Dalton, and they sit down for one last session; she’s out of time, he’s fascinated but also worried about the future knowledge.

Speaking of future knowledge, Wade—who sends out an SOS to the time stream, which seems like how you’d bring back a now deceased special guest star, but isn’t—Wade has a heck of a little arc.

Michelle Gomez journeys into her own past, where she briefly encounters Dalton (despite them being renowned nemeses, I’m not sure the show ever gave them a sustained scene) before running afoul of other people she doesn’t like–really good Gomez performance.

Everyone’s really good, of course. Dalton’s so good.

It ends up being Guerrero’s episode, with Fraser, Bomer, and Gomez sharing the B slots, then Wade getting the C. Watching Guerrero in this episode, I had the odd sensation of remembering when she wasn’t good on the show and wondering how that period plays in the greater context of the show. For the someday rewatch.

But for now, there’s one more Patrol to go, and they’re in excellent shape for it.

Big shoutouts to the script (credited to Chris Dingess) and then Chris Manley’s direction. Portal knows what it’s doing.

Grantchester (2014) s08e03

Al Weaver directed this episode, which I think is the first time one of the show’s stars has directed an episode. Weaver’s got a little to do on screen—he’s worried about Tom Brittney, who’s moping after hitting the guy with his motorcycle, but it’s all okay. I mean, okay in the sense Brittney’s not getting charged. The guy’s dead. The season’s A plot is vicar Brittney killed some guy by total accident, but also a complicated total accident.

Brittney feels terrible about it. And he doesn’t want to talk to Weaver or anyone else about it. He wants to talk to God about it. But he’s too busy with the case—and his friends interfering. In addition to Weaver worrying about him, there’s Kacey Ainsworth, whose concern brings Brittney and Robson Green into the mystery plot. Ainsworth takes Brittney out for a nice day at a college museum, with Green tagging along. First, there are some coeds—not at that college, because it’s the men’s college, no girls even on campus if they can help it—who are protesting in various states of undress about double standards regarding the female form in art and actuality.

Their demonstration coincides with the famous painting everyone’s there to see going missing. Then, later on, when Bradley Hall is on the scene investigating, he discovers a body. So now it’s a murder.

The episode then toggles between this far-reaching investigation—it’s all about how men, regardless of class, are shitty to women, but men of higher class can also be shitty to men of lower class. It’s the British way, after all.

Meanwhile, Brittney’s getting sick of the interfering—Tessa Peake-Jones also gets some of his ire, leading to a fun moment between Peake-Jones and Weaver. It’ll all come to a head—multiple times—as he gets angrier and angrier.

Ainsworth and Green have some detached family crisis—he’s probably losing his job, and she just got called in to see her boss, who doesn’t like her. Then Oliver Dimsdale convinces Weaver to hire a maid—Simone Lahbib—to improve conditions around the halfway house.

It’s a balanced episode, though little kid Isaac Highams is missing when he shouldn’t be.

And Melissa Johns gets quite a bit to do with the female protestors. The show tries to acknowledge she’s aware the cops are problematic, but then she still plays the game. “Grantchester”’s really not afraid to make their characters unlikable at times—see Brittney’s loud, angry power mope in this episode.

Thanks to the intricate plotting and Weaver’s solid direction, the episode goes off without a hitch.

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.

All Creatures Great and Small (2020) s04e03 – Right Hand Man

Right Hand Man reintroduces the idea of a triumvirate to the veterinary practice. Nicholas Ralph has put in for a student to be placed with them, Samuel West’s nasty attitude be damned. We meet James Anthony-Rose before Ralph and West, as Anthony-Rose discovers all the street signs have been taken down in the village (to prevent the Bosch from finding their way), and he has an amusing lost montage.

He arrives just in time to help Ralph with Patricia Hodge’s latest dog problem. Not little Tricki Woo (played by Derek again, but also Dora, which makes me worry about Derek’s health), but rather a bulldog she’s taken in while his owner’s off at war. Anthony-Rose puts his foot in it, and we’re off to the races.

The episode’s got a lot going on. Having decided to have a baby, Ralph and wife Rachel Shenton are trying to find some time to work on making one. Ralph’s going to be busy with Hodge’s bulldog, while West’s got a horse with an allergy problem. Anthony-Rose offers his advice in both, with part of the gag being how unhelpful his (purely academic) advice can be. Then there’s the Anthony-Rose training subplot, which West unexpectedly takes point on, giving Ralph pause. Ralph’s various pauses stress out Shenton even more. She has a good scene with Hodge about being… well, okay, about being wives, but even as it bellyflops on Bechdel, it’s a good scene. There’s some very solid character development for Hodge in the scene, too.

Meanwhile, Anna Madeley’s very gentle romance with Will Thorp continues.

Speaking of very gentle, the war makes its presence (and its impending effects) known, with West getting into it with the local trainees about how they’re disrespecting the Yorkshire ways. It’ll figure into the main plot a couple ways, but also how—Shenton reminds everyone—the war’s still coming, and they might lose Ralph at any minute. Something Ralph’s not thinking about, which the show’s also been avoiding the last couple episodes.

And even though the show’s finally acknowledged the war’s not done with it, it’s still unclear if “Creatures” will be able to incorporate the foreboding or just use it in one-offs.

Anyway. There are some great veterinary scenes, good or better moments for pretty much everyone, and Anthony-Rose certainly seems like a fine addition to the regular cast. For how long? Well, I suppose I could Google, but I shan't.

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.

Grantchester (2014) s08e02

Maybe the first three-quarters of this episode is the best “Grantchester”’s been in ages. And “Grantchester”’s a perfectly good show, they just really figure out a way to knock it out of the park here. Last episode laid out the new normal—vicar Tom Brittney married to Charlotte Ritchie, playing stepdad to Isaac Highams—and then saw Brittney run down some pedestrian while out zooming on his motorcycle.

This episode’s got Robson Green trying to protect Brittney best he can, with sidekick Bradley Hall low-key trying to sabotage in an effort to suck up to big boss Michael D. Xavier. Last season, Brittney had an indiscreet relationship with Xavier’s fiancée, breaking up the engagement, and Xavier’s holding a grudge.

So when it seems like Brittney was going nearly eighty miles an hour when he hit the guy, Xavier’s thrilled, Green’s mortified, and Brittney’s screwed.

Pretty quickly the episode gins up a way to get Al Weaver into the story (in this case, into the story means into a jail cell to talk to Brittney). Behind Green’s back, Hall goes to roust Weaver’s halfway house. Along with giving Weaver and Brittney a great scene, the subplot gets Hall in deep water with office secretary Melissa Johns, who doesn’t like it when he’s shitty.

For a relatively substantial portion of the episode, it feels like a backdoor pilot for Hall and Johns to carry. If Johns is around, Hall can not come off like a weasel, and there’s a charm to it. Unfortunately, even as Hall gets a bit more character development this episode, it doesn’t appear he’s any less of a weasel than he seems. He’s just a different kind of weasel.

When the episode’s at its best, Green is trying to do what he sees as his job—solving a crime, whereas Hall and Xavier just want to get a result. Juxtaposed is Brittney’s guilt arc, which has some major high points but then fizzles for the conclusion. During that fizzle, Green’s investigation arc is similarly bubbly. The episode throws in one too many twists.

Excellent performances from Weaver, Green, and Brittney this episode. Tessa Peake-Jones, Kacey Ainsworth, and Nick Brimble are all super-peripheral, none really getting much to do other than remind everyone they’re regulars, and also Highams’s got supervision. Ritchie does a voice spot, which may or may not end up being more filler.

But most of the episode’s outstanding, and the rest’s pretty good.

All Creatures Great and Small (2020) s04e02 – Carpe Diem

Okay, now “All Creatures” feels like it’s back. Carpe Diem is a regular, episodic entry, with Samuel West hiring a professional bookkeeper to get the practice ship-shape—did he hire Neve McIntosh because he was flirting with her at a dance and not able to ask her out so instead he offered her a job? Unclear. Something’s going on with West this episode; he’s definitely missing his brother (will Callum Woodhouse be back this season? I refuse to Google), but we never find out how exactly. It’s not in the episode’s purview.

The A-plot involves McIntosh coming in and messing with the practice so they can make more money. The B-plot is West and aging farmer James Bolam’s aging cow. There’s also some family planning discussions for Nicholas Ralph and Rachel Shenton, who spend the episode oscillating between West and McIntosh, sometimes participating, sometimes just observing. West’s got a lot of hijinks, whether it’s bulling through the china shop, mooning over McIntosh, or ignoring Ralph’s complaints about her.

Ralph and Shenton get a vet case of their own—Paul Bazely’s adorable ferret—except Bazely’s broke (and an immigrant) and McIntosh hates rodents and the rodent-appearing, and the separate dramas all weave nicely together. The script, credited to Helen Raynor, is gentle to a fault. The show really doesn’t want to talk about the war, with multiple characters assuming it’ll all be over soon. So there’s a big air of dread hanging over it, which the script doesn’t acknowledge.

The show even cuts away when Anna Madeley and Will Thorp go out to the movies (the show was able to get permission to use Hollywood movie posters, but not the British movie the characters are discussing.

Director Hay gets in some very nice landscape shots and the elaborate slapstick (serious slapstick) opening.

It’s a very good episode. Though it bothers me I’m more scared about the war than some of the characters.