Lost in Space (2018) s02e03 – Echoes

After the casual nod here and there—the “hub” in the space-camper looks a lot like the Alien mess hall—this episode goes all-in on the Aliens homage, complete with a little girl (Nevis Unipan) surviving on her own for months and months with aliens out to eat her. Leslie Hope directs the episode. It’s excellent suspense direction. The flashback stuff with Parker Posey, explaining her backstory, isn’t good, but it’s not Hope’s fault. So mostly, it’s one of the best-directed episodes.

The Posey material, both in the present and in the flashbacks, is at best wanting and, in actuality, is pretty bad. The script, credited to Liz Sagal, reveals Posey is a blue blood who became a professional con artist after her mom died and the money faucet turned off. Selma Blair’s back as Posey’s disapproving sister. Angela Cartwright plays the mom. Unfortunately, neither gets anything to really do, though—again—Blair and Posey are fantastic siblings casting.

Given Posey’s dumb luck escapes all last season from her terrible decision-making, it strains credulity she’d survived three days as a professional con artist without an infinite lawyer fund, much less years. Especially since her actions in the present, while showcasing newly revealed extensive computer skills, also seem very obviously primed to cause significant disaster for everyone, including Posey. If part of the character is supposed to be her ability to act in self-preservation is broken… it needs to be addressed. Otherwise, it just comes off like lazy writing.

Otherwise, the script’s good. Like, sure, Unipan’s a little much, and when Taylor Russell comes across her, the show owed us a line about it being from that antique movie Aliens, but there are some good surprises in it. Again, since the regular cast seems invulnerable to too much harm, those good surprises help a lot. Leads to some fun scenes and suitable tension relief valves.

It also leads to way too much mooning from Mina Sundwall about Molly Parker not liking her enough because it’s apparently going to be a season subplot. Unlike the Maxwell Jenkins mooning over the robot—much of the episode teases a return of at least the evil second robot, if not the good one too, because the last time we saw the mothership, the two robots were crashing into it.

Parker and Toby Stephens mostly get a concerned parents arc—they’re all wandering the mothership looking for signs of life and then explanation at the lack of them. It’s not until the end (when there’s set up for next time) they actually have much action.

The episode gets a lot of mileage out of Sundwall and Jenkins in a familiar environment we’ve never seen them in—the show started with them getting away from the mothership in their space-camper. We also get some backstory on Russell’s birth father, which… would’ve been more interesting to see in the context of their voyage from Earth to where things went wrong to start the show. Like, there’s a constant reminder of the dad on the ship, and Russell was super-pissed off at Stephens when the show began for other things. Might’ve made for good character development.

Anyway.

The finale sets the show up for its next big dramatic turn. Or, depending on how you count them, its first big dramatic turn. Since all the other ones have been flashback reveals. It’s potentially compelling, even if it seems like it could’ve come at the finish of the season’s first episode, not its third.

Lost in Space (2018) s02e02 – Precipice

Alex Graves is back directing this episode; unlike last time, he lets “Lost in Space” take advantage of its John Williams theme music to do some Williams-esque riffs. The major disaster sequence, which sets up the rest of the episode, gets very emotive music.

The action immediately follows the last episode, with the family assembling and going over what they’ve learned and got to do. There’s a great moment when Ignacio Serricchio asks Molly Parker to repeat his assignment for the sake of exposition. Then things start going wrong immediately, with the kite Doc Brown ties to the clocktower in hopes of collecting the 1.21 Gigawatts–wait, wait, wrong movie. But something does go wrong with the kite. And then something else goes wrong. And then once they figure out the next thing to do, something else goes wrong, then something else.

Then killer seaweed starts attacking the cast, getting Serricchio the worst and putting him in sickbay for the rest of the episode. Unfortunately, the only person onboard matching his blood type is Parker Posey, who’s been reading Mina Sundwall’s memoir of their voyages and discovered Serricchio’s got some secrets to hide. It’s interesting to see Posey be straightforward in her machinations with Serricchio and their scenes are funny thanks to his partial paralysis.

Meanwhile, Taylor Russell feels like Toby Stephens doesn’t trust her enough when he says she needs to recognize she’s the doctor and can’t be doing the grunt work. This episode’s grunt work involves dangling the SUV out the back of the space-camper by a metal cable to save the family and refill the battery. But, unfortunately, the killer seaweed and various convenient inconveniences hamper their progress.

There’s a lot of character drama for Sundwall and Parker. They find themselves unexpectedly paired for the episode’s adventures, and Parker has to acknowledge maybe Sundwall’s not as useful as her other kids. Of course, given these crisis activities are the areas where Jenkins failed on his colonial tests and Sundwall passes, it plays like the show just ran out of stuff for Sundwall to do and gave her a gripe arc.

Their arc’s not great but does end up having a fairly reasonable conclusion.

One big change in the family’s reaction to the life-threatening crises is no one seems worried they’re going to die. Last season, there was always a lot of angst around imminent failure and destruction. This season, no one gets very worked out about it. They just have to complete all the tasks, and somehow it’ll work out. It’s very much doing disaster movie. Though not pacing-wise. Credited to Zack Estrin, the script plunges from one disaster to another.

We do get some more of the Cylon mythology, with the family discovering giant metal lightning rods built by the same intelligence as built the robot. They also find—six months after the previous season’s finale—the second, always evil robot’s lopped-off arm, which means they didn’t clean the garage in six months.

The disaster dramatics are a little much, but the actors carry it—and the special effects are excellent—making the episode more effective than it would be based on the plot machinations. There are a couple cliffhangers, one sort of rewinding the stakes two episodes back to last season finale, and then one where Posey shows she hasn’t learned anything as far as planning ahead.

Lost in Space (2018) s02e01 – Shipwrecked

After a reveal about last season’s finale, the episode reestablishing the ground situation—the Robinsons and friends have been marooned on a mostly water, very toxic planet for six months because the Cylon engine has stopped working. I may just call the robot’s “species” the Cylons. I haven’t decided. After they set it all up, the episode quickly becomes a “Murphy’s law” disaster movie, sort of like it was getting at the end of last season.

Murphy’s law—I already googled it for us—meaning “Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong.”

The family has the space-camper set up on a beach, and they’re growing corn and other vegetables. They don’t have enough power for the lights, but they’re trying with the solar panels and so on. The first act is all about the Christmas they’re having, what with Parker Posey still a prisoner in part of the ship and then Ignacio Serricchio being the slightly exasperated live-in handyman. For Christmas, Maxwell Jenkins has published—unclear with what resources—sister Mina Sundwall’s memoir about season one, Lost in Space. Everyone reading it or not reading it will be a subplot.

But they’re one big happy family given the circumstances—they still think the mothership will come to get them even though they clearly wormholed to the Delta Quadrant last season finale—and dad Toby Stephens is going to teach Jenkins how to drive. But it’s really boring to drive one of the future SUVs, so they have to make it sound like driving a car in the dialogue. Sundwall’s super snarky about it, which isn’t funny, just justified. The first act kind of drags.

Especially since, even though last season established Molly Parker and Stephens were partners now when she wants to go and try to refuel the ship at some regular lightning storms, Stephens says no.

Then something bad happens, and all of a sudden, they’ve got to do it. And time, as it has to be, is going to be tight.

The episode takes a few extra beats to reveal Parker’s plan to allow the audience to have an “ah-ha” moment, which is probably the weirdest move in the entire episode. The script, credited to remake creators Matt Sazama and Burk Sharpless, is relatively well-balanced, but they do not want to lean in on science and engineering in their science fiction. It’s not a significant problem. The episode’s got a new-to-the-series director, Alex Graves, and a really nice special effects budget given who difficult the journey will be for the family. It looks good. Probably the best the show’s effects have ever looked. So the season’s off to a good start on that front.

Character-wise… since they’re marooned, they’re mostly spinning wheels. Jenkins is mooning over the robot, Russell and Sundwall are bored (though people reading her book gives Sundwall a plot). Serricchio’s in stasis, ditto Parker to some degree. Stephens is thrilled playing extreme farmer, which could be interesting but isn’t. Posey’s going to have the most significant arc in the episode. She’s currently trying to manipulate Sundwall (in addition to everyone else), but mostly Sundwall.

It’s dramatically far more rewarding than when Posey was grooming Jenkins.

There’s a cliffhanger with a reveal, then a tag with another reveal, but the show never resolves some of its season one leftovers. The six-month jump-ahead also helps them ignore treacherous Posey in their midst.

But it’s a great-looking, entertaining start. The character dynamics are down, the actors are more comfortable—though Jenkins is growing fast, and Stephens shouldn’t have cut off his facial hair. Instead of looking like budget Michael Fassbender or Hugh Jackman, he seems like budget Damian Lewis, which isn’t the same thing.

Punisher: Soviet (2020)

Punisher soviet

No question, Garth Ennis has still got that old Punisher magic. Soviet is a change from most of Ennis’s post—Punisher MAX limited series, which have been military historical fiction with the Punisher inserted, filling out the character, peeling the onion of his tragedy. Soviet’s not about Frank. Soviet is about Frank’s Russian alter ego, one Valery Stepanovich. Stepanovich has tragedies, both familial and military, in the ballpark of Frank’s history—obviously in Afghanistan, not Vietnam—and for a good portion of the series, Soviet’s going to be Ennis’s Afghanistan story.

At least, it’s going to be a Soviets in Afghanistan story from Ennis. Maybe not “the.” I’ve always assumed his trajectory with his war comics writing—it’s been twenty years since he started—was to get to Vietnam without Frank Castle. Soviets in Afghanistan is a stop along the way. But Valery’s backstory is just right to fuel a righteous mission, out to get a Russian crime boss who’s slowly been getting more and more powerful and now seems to be going straight. The boss comes on Frank’s radar because he’s rushing to the legit finish line. The first issue’s got a lot of exposition—Frank interrogating a bad guy, a cop passing Frank information—but once Valery shows up and the erstwhile buddy flick starts… Soviet is a run downhill towards destiny for the cast.

Except not Frank.

Soviet is Valery’s story, it’s the story of the crime boss to some degree, of his kids, of his wives. But it’s not a Frank Castle story. There are occasional acknowledgements of MAX continuity, but new-to-Ennis-Punisher artists Jacen Burrows and Guillermo Oretgo visualize Frank somewhere in his forties or fifties, not seventy-one or whatever. It doesn’t not work out but it’s also an incomplete on whether Ennis can ever get the Frank Castle character development machine running again. At their best, Burrows and Oretgo make it feel like homage to a serious Ennis and Steve Dillon Punisher, which I don’t think ever actually happened. I certainly hope they keep Burrows with it. There’s an interesting contrast in his clean art and Ennis’s quagmire situations.

It does end with an interesting observation about Frank, which is just right for a Punisher comic where he’s just along for the ride. Outside the first issue, everything he does is with his new best friend.

Valery and Frank don’t get a lot of buddy scenes together because Ennis is trying to keep it serious–there’s a truly hilarious joke but then they’re off to talk about Valery’s past and things get serious again. Their buddy arc’s resolution is appropriately sanguine, given the circumstances, and Ennis clearly likes pairing Frank with a capable partner, especially one with a sense of humor.

I didn’t know much about Soviet going in (not the Russian alter ego, not the Afghanistan flashback, not Burrows) and it all turned out to be a pleasant surprise. Well, not pleasant, obviously, but a very welcome success. I didn’t think Soviet would be bad, but I also didn’t think it would be quite so good. Ennis and Burrows make a great team and, while I want for an “older man Frank” series from Ennis, an intentionally indeterminately timed approach clearly works as well.

Knives Out (2019, Rian Johnson)

Knives Out is very successful, very neat riff on the Agatha Christie-esque genre of mystery stories, specifically the limited cast, the intricate death, the “gentleman detective.” Out’s gentleman detective is Daniel Craig, who plays his French-named character as a Southern Gentleman with aplomb. He’s always delightful, even though he’s—intentionally—not particularly good at the investigating, rather trying to figure out where the truth will reveal itself and meet it there. Nice Gravity’s Rainbow reference, though writer and director Johnson’s joke about people not actually reading it… well, there’s an insight ceiling. Out does a pretty good job not bumping it while covering a range of precarious topics throughout, with the Pynchon cop out probably being the closest call.

The lead in the film is instead Ana de Armas, nurse and confidant to recently deceased (apparently by suicide) Christopher Plummer. Plummer’s a millionaire mystery novel writer who supports his greedy family members, reigning from an intentionally gothic house with the occasional physical gimmicks related to his mystery novels. The house set is a lot of fun. When the film finally leaves for a sustained period (instead of just quick asides to remind de Armas has a real life away), it loses a bit of its personality. Especially when it will just turn around and head back, reining in its expanse at the end of the second act just to use the house again in the third. Only once it returns, it’s already shown what’s behind the curtain–Johnson does a fine job establishing the actual suspects from the potential ones and gives the audience enough information to at least guess the perpetrator if not the motive.

It’s a good script. Even during the finale, which goes on a little too long, all of Johnson’s instincts and twists are good, there’s just too much material in between them. Some of it’s Craig mugging but Johnson’s also really careful never to let him go too far. The film’s got a very specific tone, very specific narrative distance—it’s got to encompass a lot around de Armas—Johnson and his crew do an excellent job with it. Steve Yedlin’s photography, Bob Ducsay’s editing, Nathan Johnson’s music. All works out.

No small thanks to de Armas, obviously, who’s able to do a lot in this spotlight, including entirely, exquisitely humanize Plummer. It isn’t until their big scene together Plummer really gets to act; until then, opposite the family, it’s all for motive setup. With de Armas, Plummer gets real personality, which resonates throughout the film.

The first act’s a series of flashbacks and flash arounds, establishing the last night of Plummer’s life, with the various family members and suspects—Jamie Lee Curtis, Michael Shannon, Don Johnson, Toni Collette—incriminating themselves and others and getting annoyed with cop LaKeith Stanfield’s repeated interrogations. Stanfield’s the straight man, Noah Segan’s his numbskull sidekick, Craig’s the gentleman detective. Johnson has a great handle on the genre norms and nimbly adapts some of them.

Good performances all around, though Out is really de Armas, Plummer, and Craig’s movie. Of the supporting cast–well, the family (Stanfield’s great but he’s de facto third tier)—Collette and Shannon are the best. Curtis and Johnson are both fine, they just don’t have the same opportunities. As the black sheep and prime suspect (of sorts), Chris Evans is good (his amazing sweater, hiding Avengers guns, is amazing) and maybe even better than I was expecting given the part, but he doesn’t have the spark the big three exhibit.

Though he also doesn’t have Johnson showcasing him the way de Armas, Plummer, and Craig get the spotlight. They all transfix, the film riding on them—which just makes de Armas more and more impressive as the film moves along.

Knives Out is good. Just about ten minutes too long.

Extra Ordinary (2019, Mike Ahern and Enda Loughman)

A few minutes into Extra Ordinary, after a stylized prologue and then opening sequence, I realized it was a low budget marvel. The film has under five locations and six characters. Directors Ahern and Loughman widen the proverbial lens to make it feel bigger with choice location shooting—being able to do the driving in the car stuff well does a lot—and, of course, the excellent special effects. Extra Ordinary is a ghost comedy, meaning there need to be a lot of ghost effects, and they’re able to execute all of them well, most of them comedically. The supernatural in the film is a combination of mundane and uncanny, with an understanding the latter is only possible with some filmmaking finesse, otherwise you get the former.

The film opens with hilarious (film in the film) eighties VHS series on the supernatural. It’s one of the only times it really feels low budget because the VHS filter they use still looks way better than actual VHS would. A very amusingly straight-faced Risteard Cooper hosts the show.

In the present, Cooper is long dead; something went wrong with the supernatural and now adult daughter Maeve Higgins still blames herself for it, even though sister Terri Chandler tries to assure her she’s not. Higgins is a driving instructor who used to do some other kind of work. Turns out she was a medium for hire, but has given up the trade. All she wants is driving instruction gigs, all anyone ever calls about is ghost busting.

So when she gets a message from Barry Ward for driving lessons, she thinks it’s a real gig. Only then it turns out Ward’s being haunted by his dead wife and daughter Emma Coleman told him he had to call Higgins or she was moving out.

Throw in American-rock-star-in-tax-exile Will Forte who’s trying to get his Satanic ritual together and needs a virgin, setting his sights on teen Coleman, and Extra Ordinary’s got the ingredients for a rather eclectic ghost comedy.

The make and break of the film turns out to be Higgins, who’s phenomenal from the first moment and for a while it’s not clear if the directors just really know how to direct her or if it’s Higgins. It seems to be Higgins, who’s able to keep character development going even when she’s got to be the most static one in the film. Not to knock the directors; they do an exceptional job—and it’d be impossible to image the film looking, sounding, or feeling any different—but Higgins is still the star.

Ward’s a fine sidekick for her; she’s got to introduce him to the supernatural around town. He’s always good, sometimes better. He just starts better than he ends up so it’s not as easy to be excited about his performance. He’s got a big swing and it’s a hit, but like just enough to get to first base. Nothing special. Not like Higgins being able to carry the film.

Then the other two main stars are Forte and Claudia O’Doherty as his wife. Forte’s awesome. The film’s got great timing, Forte’s got better timing. It’s incredible how well he sells the Satanic one hit wonder trying to get back on the charts with his terrible music.

O’Doherty’s always funny as the needling wife, though it’s definitely one of the film’s shallower parts.

Ahern and Loughman’s composition is almost always excellent. In the handful of shots where it goes a little wrong, it’s obviously something about the budget. Cinematographer James Mather works wonders and the film looks great, but there’s just something off every once in a while. Usually reaction over the shoulder shots actually.

Great editing from Gavin Buckley, great music from George Brennan. Again, it’s a low budget marvel.

And they’re able to do a big effects sequence.

Extra Ordinary is an extremely well-made comedy and a great showcase for Higgins.

Elizabeth Is Missing (2019, Aisling Walsh)

I’m not sure what I thought Elizabeth Is Missing was going to be—I only half read a description—but when it became clear Glenda Jackson’s character (not Elizabeth) would be searching for that character (played by Maggie Steed) but also Jackson having Alzheimer’s and also sort of live action flashbacks with her younger self… Well, I hoped they weren’t going to do a Memento where the gimmick was someone’s Alzheimer’s.

My hope was not realized. Elizabeth Is Missing is indeed a ninety-ish minute pseudo-mystery where there’s no mystery it’s just Jackson’s Alzheimer’s is getting worse and she’s having a lot of bad memory triggers. Jackson not understanding what’s going on is director Walsh, screenwriter Andrea Gibb, and presumably source novelist Emma Healey’s gimmick. Jackson can’t remember the really important parts of the plot so we discover them late, creating opportunity for Jackson to experience realizing she’s not remembering something and consequently having a trauma.

So while Jackson’s really good, it’s by definition exploitative. Like. Dementia advisor or not; the plot itself is inherently exploitative.

Bummer, I guess? In hindsight—you know, if you went through and looked for all the signs Bruce Willis was a ghost, which I’m sure you can—it’s probably inevitable it’s going to fail. The scant subplot about Jackson’s daughter, Helen Behan (who should talk to her agent about better parts), being exhausted with having to care for an ailing parent while her older brother and the prize child (Sam Hazeldine) occasionally Skypes from Germany and is no help… they definitely could’ve done it better. I just hadn’t realized it was them doing it the best they could.

Because Jackson’s really good and you’re really invested in her and flipping it to make her an unreliable narrator and a pitiable subject… it’s really unfortunate. And a waste of Jackson’s time. There’s a far better movie in granddaughter Nell Williams and Jackson, I don’t know, going to the library for ninety minutes in real time than there is in a Double MacGuffin with Cheese murder mystery.

The flashbacks are all about young Jackson—played by Liv Hill—and her missing sister Sophie Rundle, which has all sorts of analogues with missing best friend Steed. It also has the memory loss MacGuffin being the only part because there’s no character development for young Hill. And there’s also a deus ex machina? Because it’s really lazy and a waste of everyone’s time.

Kind of good music from Dominik Scherrer; like a horror movie score but he never leans into it enough.

But no. They can’t even manage to give Jackson a good part by the end of it. Once they’ve made all the reveals, the filmmakers have no enthusiasm for the finish. Behan and Williams have some good moments—though Williams’s are a lot less problematic than Behan’s—otherwise the supporting cast is middling.

It’s a strange, unfortunate ninety minutes.

Doom Patrol (2019) s01e15 – Ezekiel Patrol

In terms of ambition, scale, and execution, I’m not sure there’s anything better than Ezekiel Patrol. Writers Tamara Becher, Jeremy Carver, Shoshana Sachi, director Dermott Downs, the cast—they set a new bar. With Ezekiel, even though it’s from Grant Morrison, “Doom Patrol” has just fulfilled the concept of Vertigo TV. It’s sophisticated… okay, not suspense. Sophisticated superheroes.

The episode starts with a truly magnificent recap narrated by Alan Tudyk, which makes perfect since since he’s a cosmic narrator and whatnot; it’s not even Tudyk’s delivery, which is fine but not great, it’s the writing. It’s specific to each cast member and it seems like it can’t all be from the comic. But if it somehow is from the comic… I mean, bravo Grant Morrison. It happens.

After the recap and the resolution of the outstanding reveal, which shakes the foundations of the series to its very core and we still don’t understand all the fallout—the cast once again gets split and forced to confront themselves and each other. Some are more self-destructive than others, some are more empathetic than others, some are more uplifted than others—Matt Bomer’s arc with the Negative Spirit seems too good to be true, versus April Bowlby discovering the real world—despite being something she can tolerate if necessary—is really shitty.

Meanwhile Robotman (Brendan Fraser and Riley Shanahan—maybe my trepidation about being a big Fraser in “Doom Patrol” fan is because it seems to overshadow Shanahan’s movement work) and Diane Guerrero form a quizzically symbiotic relationship. Guerrero manages to get a lot of sympathy this episode, just because the storytelling is so good.

Alimi Ballard shows up, including for some flashbacks with Timothy Dalton. Ballard’s not great. It’s too bad. It seems like he could be great, then it falls apart. Doesn’t matter, everything else is great. Like guest star Curtis Armstrong. He’s great. Tommy Snider’s great. Charmin Lee’s great (she’s Vic’s mom in flashbacks). Dalton’s great.

And then there’s Phil Morris.

Morris isn’t the “hero” of “Doom Patrol: Season One”—it’s Bowlby because of course it’s Bowlby, she’s phenomenal—but his performance in the show is singular. I thought it was great before. Morris doubles it this episode. So good.

Great music from Kevin Kiner, great photography from Magdalena Górka. The special effects are excellent. Everything about it is excellent.

It’s been a long time since something’s had such a good first season close as “Doom Patrol.”

I can’t wait for what’s next.

Doom Patrol (2019) s01e14 – Penultimate Patrol

It’s a superb episode. Lots and lots of content—including some surprising devices to extend the narrative, which seems iffy at first but ends up working out great. Although you see the budget when it comes to a Groundhog Day-esque montage and the exact same footage keeps getting reused. “Doom Patrol” is even more impressive when you take them being on the cheap into account.

This episode indeed does have more Devan Long, but nowhere near as much as I was expecting. It’s fine, the episode’s so good they didn’t “need” him like they do when, you know, Diane Guerrero’s supposed to be holding her own. And while I missed him, they do die him a great scene.

Also surprising is Joivan Wade’s participation in the episode; they’d given him permission to skip “Doom Patrol Duty” to hang out with Phil Morris. Turns out even though that bonding time goes somewhat awry thanks to some real talk—Morris is so good, just so devastatingly good; his performance ought to be taught—Wade’s not really with the team by choice. Because it’s time for a big reveal.

And not one of the many reveals we’ve been promised—okay, there are maybe two outstanding mega-reveals (though this episode does raise some questions when it flashes back to everyone right before they become, quite unfortunately, “super”)—it’s an out of nowhere reveal. There’s some foreshadowing for a reveal of some kind, a truth divulgence and so on, but the stakes aren’t really established. And the show’s able to kick-off an entirely different take thanks to it. Penultimate Patrol doesn’t feel like an abridged two-partner so much as a “giant-size” episode, even though it’s only one of the forty-four minute ones.

Possibly because of the great script, courtesy Chris Dingess—who wrote the comic “Manifest Destiny,” which I read for a while—great script, great direction from Rebecca Rodriguez; I don’t blame anyone for the montage editing except Warner for not giving the show more money. Though with more money you probably wouldn’t have the same cast and, Penultimate confirms, everyone else makes up for Guerrero. I mean, Brendan Fraser’s voice acting is along far enough, Bowlby delivers greatness every episode, Bomer’s working out, Timothy Dalton….

I mean, Alan Tudyk isn’t doing what they seem to think he’s doing but he’s a lot closer than Guerrero, who actually gets some sympathy here when she’s just so incapable of doing the part. It’s almost mean they made her.

Great music—I thought for sure it’d be some Clint Mansell, but Kevin Kiner’s solo on this episode. Mansell and Kiner have done some great scoring this season.

The cliffhanger’s just right too.

Doom Patrol (2019) s01e13 – Flex Patrol

Devan Long is back this episode—looks like he might recur the rest of the season in fact—and he’s so good I almost want to watch his other stuff. He’s got the right amount of humor and the right amount of heart for the show. He’s stuck with Matt Bomer, Diane Guerrero, and Robotman (Brendan Fraser—and I may come to regret this statement later—is doing fairly well at this point—and Riley Shanahan) while April Bowlby gets to go and try to provide emotional support to Phil Morris and Joivan Wade.

Again, I know there’s the age difference and Wade’s nowhere near as good as Bowlby, but there’s definitely something more shippable about them than anyone else in the show. Though I guess there’s nothing shippable at all about anyone else in the show. Regardless, lots of good scenes for Bowlby, who’s trying to apply her recent personal growth to being a good friend and… dare I spoil… leader.

It helps she finds a sympathetic ear in Ed Asner, who pops in for an Ed Asner cameo and manages to be exactly what Bowlby needs to act off, which wasn’t a point I wanted to make but it’s definitely one of the things about “Doom Patrol.” There’s not always the actors you need to pull off the scene. Sometimes the other person just can’t carry it—hell, even though Guerrero’s not significantly better like Fraser… being around Long helps her performance. Some of it is definitely just the content—she barely gets anything to do on her own and the stuff she does with Long just suggests whoever cast her didn’t test her with the other actors on the right material—but she’s less bad than usual. She’s bad more infrequently than usual. Whatever doesn’t sound like a compliment and maintains a shade of objectivity.

The end of the episode is some bookkeeping, getting everything setup for the last two episodes of the season, which are probably at least a two-parter given Alan Tudyk shows up and mugs to the camera in full narration, bitching about it taking so long to get from episode one to episode fourteen. They leave Tudyk on by himself too long and you start wondering what it’d be like with an actually dynamic performance in the part instead of just them just feigning it with Tudyk.

The writing would have to be better on the character too… probably wouldn’t work for episodic TV.

Anyway.

The ending does what it can to undue previous successes in the episode, but there’s too much good from Bowlby and Long.

The show also establishes—not at the end—it’s willing to be cruel, whereas the last episode implied there were limits to its narrative cruelness. Here… not so much.