Mad Men: The Wheel

 "You'll have to give back that copy of Ayn Rand..."

This is an interestingly brave, yet satisfying finale. We don't have the climaxes of last season- Peggy aside- as we end not with a dramatic peak but a satisfyingly relaxed wrapping up. This finale is all about families, none of them perfect.

This is obviously the case for Don, who never has one growing up and- as we found last week- feels semi-detached from his family, preferring to work rather than join them for Thanksgiving. Yet he has an epiphany of sorts in his presentation- brilliant as ever- for Kodak, using his own family snaps and getting a little emotional- a sublimely judged performance from Jon Hamm- at the thought of the family he has. Yet the scenes of his returning home, gathering his children in his arms and joining the family for Thanksgiving are shown just to be in his head; the reality is a cold, lonely house, all alone.

Betty finally realises, too, after Francine comes to her for help with her own husband's infidelity, that she's always known about Don's unfaithfulness and is finding it harder and harder to pretend. Then there's Pete, in his strained marriage, under pressure from his fayher-in-law to sire an heir. There's Harry, thrown out of his house after his dalliance last episode and sleeping in the office. Even Peggy's promotion to junior copywriter, a huge achievement for this quietly ambitious young woman- and another humiliation for Pete, who seems desperate to please a stern, uncaring father figure in Don- is followed by the shock of realising she's pregnant and about to give birth, a woman in a man's world after all. And, when shown her baby son, she turns her head away...

The Kodak Carousel may show a surface world of happy families. But they are nothing but.

Another season of Mad Men will be coming to this blog before too long. This is delicious, exquisite telly.

Mad Men: Nixon vs Kennedy

 "Mr Campbell, who cares?"

It's interesting that this should be the penultimate episode rather than the finale, seeing how it reaches a climax in a number of ways- including, I hope, for both Harry and Trudy, however deliciously awkward their morning after may be.

Sterling Cooper's unfortunate connection to the Nixon campaign allows a focus on the election night drama for that very close Kennedy. Yet, unlike in 2020, there genuinely is electoral fraud, although I understand the historical consensus is broadly that it didn't determine the outcome. Yet it feels strangely old-fashioned to see Nixon concede so gracefully. Of course, in those days, the Republican Party was an institution of the mainstream centre-right, and was in favour of freedom and democracy while opposing Russian authoritarianism. How times change.

The party is, of course, drunken, decadent, and full of inappropriate and sexist behaviour. Peggy, of course, leaves early, and endures a little light bullying. Yet I suspect, in the long run, she's going places.

The final act, though, has Pete using the info he's gleaned to try and blackmail Don. Don has a crisis of confidence- it's a brave and nuanced piece of writing to show this with him visiting Rachel and begging her to run away with him. As she rightly points out, this is cowardice, especially as he has kids he would seemingly abandon. We're allowed, here, to see Don at his weakest, and to see him propose to do something irredeemably contemptible. What matters is that he doesn't do this, and instead finds courage- but too late to salvage his affair with a disgusted Rachel. It's probably for the best.

Don's calling Pete's bluff is glorious, especially given how Bert Cooper's absolute indifference utterly humiliates him. Cooper is an admirer of the deluded fool Ayn Rand; he sees Don as a self-made man, a Nixon rather than an aristocratic Kennedy.

The coda is fascinating, even if Jon Hamm is perhaps a little too old to play the younger Don.We see how he passively accepts the identity of a dead lieutenant, receiving a free upgrade in social class, and leaves everything behind. Wow. This is brilliant telly, as ever.

Mad Men: Indian Summer

 "Just think about it deeply, then forget it. Then an idea will jump up in your face."

This is an episode about ambition. The central scene, of course, is about Roger's second heart attack as he's dragged in to placate big clients Lucky Strike, but the situatioin has admen and clents alike being very, very worried about Sterling Cooper. So Don, the undoubted talent, is made partner.

This leaves openings. Peggy gets another chance ("Maybe lightning will strike twice"), through the fog of casual sexism, to impress, using her talent for euphemism to its fullest. And, when asking for a raise from Don, she's advised not to be "timid"... and gets what she wanted. In direct contrast to Pete, whose blatant angling for a promotion gets him nowhere.

Peggy gets an orgasm though. Unlike the sexually frustrated Betty, who takes what she can from the washing machine as her husband works late and has an affair with Rachel who, in turn, is adjusting to the concept of being the "other woman" and what it means. All this is very gendered, and the affair is very much at Don's masculine convenience.

As ever, this is all subtly done, and superlative telly... but the suicide of Don'd brother is not; hanging is a drawn out and horrible way to go. And it's a resentful Pete who gets the parcel for Don...

Mad Men: Long Weekend

 "This is all there is..."

This is yet another multi-layered and multi-faceted episde of a drama with a lot going on, ending with Don facing a bit of a low-key existential crisis after Roger's heart attack. But essentially it's aboiut how society, certainly in 1960 but very much also today, expects women to be pleasing to men as men use them.

We see this first with Betty's widowed father and his new girlfriend who, to Betty's disgust, "lives to serve". It's revealing that Don says casually that it'll be "good to have another woman around the house, give Betty a break." But we also see this with Roger (and, passively, Don) abusing his power to hire some pretty young twins half his age, invite them to drinks, and then humiliate and sexualy use them while they fulfil theor roles of being pleasing. It's creepy to watch. We also see a kind of parallel as Joan and Carol (of whom more later) pick up two men; Joan snags the good one while Carol, stuck with the dud, just sighs and tells him to do "whatever you want".

And Don, distraught, instinctly goes to Rachel- a woman he respects, and who is not afraid to be firm with him- for succour. She doesn't yield meekly... but she yields. Althoigh not after getting some of Don's life story out of him. He's the son of a prostitute, raised by his dad, a client, and after his dad's death by his dad's wife and her new man. Bloody hell.

Even the exceptions are interesting. When Carol finally, drunkenly, confesses to Joan that she loves her ("Just think of me as a boy"), Joan pauses and pretends it never happens- and Carol goes along with it. Same sex attraction simply can't be mentioned.

And then there's Peggy, callimg out Pete on his entitled dickishness. She's going places.

This is simply an extraordinary bit of telly.

Mad Men: Shoot

 "I like this show. Very gay songs."

Once again, Mad Men gives us a devilishly clever forty-seven minutes of television. Ostensibly it's about a bigger, rival agency trying to poach Don from Sterling Cooper, unsuccessfully in the end, and the use of a modelling job for Betty as a quid pro quo. Yet it's so much more than that. It's about contemporary attitudes to women working and how they need the implied permission of their husbands, and how being at work is seen, unthinkingly, as neglecting her role as mother. It's all done with admirable subtlety.

Peggy, on the other hand, is now seeing the downside of her copywriting success, no longer seen as sexy now that she's a bluestocking- leading Pete to take extreme measures to defend his masculine definition of her "honour". And yet, in this man's world, Peggy seems to be confident she can go places, much to Joan's well-meaning bemusement. 

The ending, though, is clever, and not only pecause it makes the title a pun on both modelling and firing a shotgun, as she takes elegant revenge on at least one man who has dared to wrong her. This is wonderfully symbolic of something much deeper, and the perfect ending to an elegantly well-crafted episode.

Mad Men: Red in the Face

 "He doesn't even wear a hat!"

This extraordinary drama of bygone manners here turns its attention, in an oblique manner, to politics, as Sterling Cooper is set to handle Nixon's presidential campaign. Nixon va Kennedy is seen partly, as in the original meeting, as a clash of the generations. But it's also about social class: Betty is upset to see Helen Bishop in the supermarket and be accused of being a pervert after what happened with little Glen. You can nsymathise with her... but she slaps Helen and then proceeds to close ranks against the working single mother with her snooty friends, and to note that "I hate Kennedy" just to spite her. Wow.

There's still gender in the mix, though. Don gets a report from his pet Freudian quack on Betty and is told, with extraordinary masculine condescension towards Betty, that she has "the emotions of a child". Women are infantilised, yet the men drink enormous amounts on a weeknight, drive away while bladdered and behatted, and make inappropriate passes at their friends' wives- and Don blames Betty, over whom he has some power by dint of his gender, wen Roger, his boss and thus untouchable, makes a move on her. Ouch. Meanwhile, Pete's marriage is showing some very real cracks and he and Peggy are certainly attracted to each other.

This is a pre-Sixties world of hats, hard drinking and sexual harrassment. It all feels very secure. Yet, with Kennedy in the background and Peggy in the foreground, there may be the green shoots of something new. This is such perfectly observed telly.

Mad Men: Babylon

 "Mourning is just extendsed self-pity."

The title is clever. It relates to the ad campaign for Israel and Don's half-flirty, half vaguely racist decision to pursue lunch with Rachel because, well, she's Jewish, so she must know about Israel, right? But no; she's happily exiled in Babylon. Yet another kind of Babyon is on show, one of sin and adultery. Roger is having an affair with Joan. Don is avoiding sex with his actual wife and sleeping instead with his Bohemian girlfriend.

A lot is going on, as usual. Peggy hints that there may be substance to her, and gets a chance to write some copy, much to the disgust of Joan, who randomly alludes to Marshall McLuhan, of all people. Rachel may well acrually like Don, in spite of him being married. We get a flashback to Don's Depression childhood as Dick Whitman. Don ends up out of place in a Beatnik poetry place, where his profession is treated as a sell-out by pretentious jobless types.

There are lots of subtle moments about the characters and about the place and time in which they find themselves living. Not a lot actually happens, but that's not the point. And both the acting and the directing are utterly sumptuous.

Mad Men: 5G

 "I like being your medicine..."

It's an arresting title for a programme made in 2007, but even more arresting is the programme itself. Centred around the idea of a man's "executive" bank account is an examination of 1960 American man, his independence and his secrets. Done has plenty here. Peggy may discover that he's having an affair, but it's Joan who controls such infrmation and what's done with it- and her job as secretary is actually to help him cover it up.

Don has bigger secrets than that, though- or should I say Dick Whitman? His brother Adam is a simple but decent fellow, but Don is believed dead by his family and has reasons to be so desperate to cover up his own past that he bribes his own brother to say away... with money he can spend without Betty knowing. Wow.

Meanwhile, Ken is a published author... and all the other ad execs, fancying themselves as writers, are predictably jealous, saying a lot about the cultural cringe of advertising. And Pete is most jealous of all, so much so that he gets his wife to push for a story to be published... and is upset that she won't sleep with an old friend to do it. Again, wow. Men rule the world here, and it's tyranny.

I suspect neither Don's secrets nor Pete's marriage will last massively long. But this is bloody good stuff.

Mad Men: New Amsterdam

 "No job for a white man...!

I wouldn't have expected it, but Mad Men, that glacially and elegantly unfolding little visual serialised novel of life and manners of New York in 1960 turns out to devote an early chapter to that most un-American of subjects: social class. Well I never.

There's always been an undercurrent of class conflict to the talented and moody Don, a man with depth and soul yet a mysterious and deeply suppressed past, and Pete Campbell, a younger man who oozes the arrogance of entitlement. Here we have a nicely observed culmination of that conflict as Pete breaks the rules and steps on Don's toes, getting himself fired... only for it to be revealed that there is a deeper level of rules, and that certain aristocrats are needed to oil the wheels of posh New York society. The Pete Campbells of this world are unsackable, and the episode concludes with a tale of Pete's family connectrions to the Roosevelts.

We also find Betty connecting more to Helen, discovering the reason for her divorce and becoming the object of a rather cute crush from her young son. There's a class difference here, too, the camera (and nosy Betty) lingering on the notably less well-kept interiors of the house, and with Helen volunteering for the Kennedy campaign while it's implied that the Drapers are Republicans- this being 1960, when said party supported democracy and the rule of law.

This is slow yet fascinating telly.

Mad Men: Marriage of Figaro

 "He could be Batman for all we know..."

This is, of course, an episode about marriage, the monogamy that it represents. Hence Pete's return from honeymoon. Hence the varied conversations about temptation from both sexes. Hence Peggy accepting stoically that Pete is now forbidden goods. Hence the sudden awkwardness once Don sheepishly admits his marriage mere seconds after kissing Rachel like a proper Hollywood alpha male.Hence, indeed the downright evil whisperings aimed at poor, divorced Helen Bishop by the smug wives at the birthday party- and the arrogant assumption by a representative man that this makes her susceptible to transparent advances.

And yet this is also, I think, about how being part of a couple gives us an identity. It's 1960, so this is automatically the case for women, of course, not that we in 2022 are even close to shaking off the misogyny inherent in the tropes of marriage, which we still see as an "institution". There are variations, of course: Helen, in suburbia, is all but an outcast, laughed at for her habit of walking by lazy, car-addicted bitches. Yet Rachel, as a business woman, is defined by her work. Of course, she is also defined by other things, as a despicable anti-semitic comment at the party reminds us.

But it's also seen as central to a man's identity and dignity to be able to show himself to be married. Don has this, and so he can exist in a world where his past seems a bit murky and he is seen as just a little bit mysterious, the one with the camera looking at the party guests rather than truly being seen by others. And yet... an apparent stranger recognises hm as Dick Whitman. Who IS Don Draper?

This is bloody good.

Mad Men: Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

 "Now, try not to be overwhelmed by all this technology. It looks complicated, but the men who designed it made it simple enough for a woman to use."

I've seen the first season of Mad Men before, but in 2008, before this blog was conceived. Revisiting this first episode has been fascinating, but the overall experience has been the same. This is bloody good.

In terms of plot, things are fairly simple- it's 1960, and Don Draper is a Madison Avenue ad executive known for his inspiration. On the surface he is charming and brilliant but, like many charismatic introverts, he has hidden depths, as hinted at most strongly in his conversation with Rachel Mencken, where he is phiposophical and she is perceptive, recognising another person living a life perhaps different from what one's origins may indicate. Essentially, he comes up with an advertising slogan for Lucky Strike cigarettes, while Peggy has her first day- and sleeps with creepy Pete after his stag night. Then we see that Done- who is having an affair with a Bohemian girl with whom he connects- is married to a trophy wife with two kids.

Yet it's not about the plot, it's about the subtle (and blatant!) evocation of a mid-twentieth century, before the '60s started swinging, filled with all sorts of gender and racial norms, and attitudes that jump out at us, whether about smoking, women working or Jewish clients using Jewish firms. Don, as an advertising exec, has essentially a bullshit job, but with prestige. He's allowed to sleep in work time. Meanwhile, Peggy's doctor humiliates her when mansplaining about the pill.

The writing, acting and direction are all masterful. Let's see how the rest of the season goes.

Angel: Not Fade Away

"Good night, folks."

This is it, then. The end. And, my God, that was magnificent.

The plot of the episode could be reduced to “the gang kill every single member of the Circle of the Black Thorn, and some of them die” but, of course, the plot is not the point. This final episode lives and breathes character, feeling, and the positively existential message that yes, doing good may make no difference in the long run in a world that will always be corrupt and unjust, but we do it anyway, with joyous defiance, as something much bigger than our lives. That message lies beneath everything in this final episode.

Angel must keep up appearances, of course, and early on he is made to sign away the Shanshu Prophecy. But then he is, of course, a hero. Heroes do good because of who they are and not because of any reward, just as one does not need to believe in a Heaven to be moral. Neither does Angel, and neither do any of his friends.

But it isn’t all grim; the gang get to spend one last day doing what they love before they probably die that night. So Lorne sings. Angel spends time with Connor, and sees what a well-adjusted and happy young man he is. Spike gets drunk and performs at a poetry slam. Gunn, wonderfully, does charity work with our old friend Annie who, as much as anyone, articulates what the episode is about- if there are, indeed, corrupt forces ensuring that there will never be justice or an end to suffering, the proper response is to get to work and comfort the suffering. Hopelessness achieves nothing, however justified. We do good regardless.

Wesley, tragically, has no possible perfect days; spending it with the god king inhabiting Fred’s body is the best he can do. There is no joy for him, only grim determination and, anyway “I don’t actually intend to die tonight.” Like Hamilton later, this is something he probably shouldn’t have said.

The Circle are all killed, but not without cost. Wesley dies in Illyria’s arms as she lies to him, his last words being to tell Fred that he loved her. Alexis Denisof is simply magnificent in portraying a character who has had a rich and deep arc, and the same must be said for J August Richards, as Gunn’s arc this season has been deeply satisfying. We are shocked to see a dejected Lorne murder Lindsey before walking away forever. We are less shocked to see Harmony betray her boss and then ask for a reference, but that kind of juxtaposition is something I’ll miss enormously.

And so the survivors gather to face the consequences, with no hope of survival but happy against the odds. And then it ends. Has any season finale ever been better than this?

RIP Angel. RIP Buffyverse. You were loved.

Angel: Origin

"In gratitude, I grant you three wishes."

"Really?"

"Nah, I'm just messing with you."

Connor, inevitably, is back for an episode. This shouldn’t surprise us. What does come as a pleasant surprise, though, is how well it’s done, and how the fact that Angel altered reality and everybody’s memories acts to drive a wedge between him and Wesley in particular.

Connor’s life may be a lie, and his memories false, but these lies have made him into a healthy, pleasant, well-adjusted young man with a strong relationship with his family and a place at Stanford. He still has superhuman endurance, though, which brings him to the attention of Wolfram and Hart, and although Angel initially, to the gang’s confusion, runs away from the problem, he can’t keep himself away. He soon learns from Marcus that the Senior Partners have nothing to do with putting Connor back in his life- instead Cyvus Vail, the demon who changed Connor’s memories, no wants to use Connor to kill Sahjahn as is, of course, prophesied. Although why Vail didn’t try to do this earlier I have no idea.

I like Cyvus Vail. He’s a witty, likeable character as is Sahjahn. It’s a shame that one of them has to die, and so Sahjahn adds to this season’s growing body count. It’s a fun and entertaining set of scenes, paralleled with the horrifying Wesley discovering the truth about the reality shift, and restoring everyone’s memories.

This will, I suspect, affect Wesley’s trust for Angel, especially as early dialogue to Illyria highlighted how much he trusts his boss at that point. But the interesting effect on Connor; at first he seems to become his old, wild self and kills Sahjahn, only to return to his well-adjusted self. And the final scenes hint that, although he has his old memories back and knows the truth, he remains the man his new memories made him and chooses his current life- a mature, healthy response.

Meanwhile, Gunn is being regularly tortured in the cellar in a quest for redemption. So keen is he to redeem himself that he turns down an offer of release from Marcus- no more deals with the devil for him, no matter what the cost. This scene is here to show he’s learned his lesson; I suspect his days in Hell are numbered.

Another great episode, then. But aren’t they all at the moment?

Angel: Home

”We do have a dungeon. I can show you around later if...”

So Lilah gives Angel that thingummy wotsit to take to Buffy in Sunnydale for Spike’s big heroic sacrifice? I wish I hadn’t lost that list of the right order to watch episodes of both series a while ago. Still, no great harm done, and this is an intriguing and unusual finale which points forwards to the next season of what is now the only Buffyverse show.

It’s a lighthearted episode, a good thing after all the recent angst,  showing how all of Angel’s gang are slowly corrupted by Wolfram & Hart and agree to take over the LA branch of the evil law firm for their far from nefarious purposes but, it’s heavily implied, losing a part of their souls in the process.

It’s fun to see a temporarily resurrected Lilah tempting them all with her customary wit; she seems somewhat cheerful for someone who has just been in Hell and will be back there soon. It’s also unclear what’s so outrageous about her contractual obligations to her employer extending beyond death, with the alternative again being Hell. But it’s fun seeing her sparring yet again with Angel and, indeed, with Wesley.

They all get their individual temptations- Fred is to be head of science, Lorne of entertainment, Wesley of arcane lore or something and Gunn... well, we know not what, but he takes a trip to the big white room where a panther has replaced the little girl. He’s very conscious about what his supposed talent may be that Wolfram & Hart so require; we shall no doubt find out at the start of next season. Angel, of course, is CEO, with Sun-proof executive windows and twelve cars. Not bad.

The season has largely been about annoying little Connor, though, so it’s fitting that he should get a fitting send-off as Angel foils his psychopathic son in a nasty little hostage situation and Wolfram & Hart arrange for Connor to get an entirely different life.

It’s been a wonderfully changeable season, easily as good as the last, ending up with yet another major change. Is this going to continue...?

Angel: Peace Out

"I know she's a lie!"

And so the whole Jasmine storyline ends, suddenly. It works, it’s a good piece of telly, but you can see the joins as Angel is sidelined off in some CGI dimension where cliffhangers are easily resolved and high priests taunt him about his relationship with his son. Still, this strand successfully builds up what would otherwise be a deus ex machina ending in which Jasmine’s powers are suddenly revoked when Angel suddenly arrives.

As for the other cliffhanger, it feels a bit of a cheat that none of the rest of the gang are killed, instead spending most of the episode in a cell while the drama happens between Jasmine and Connor, who is the episode’s real focus. Still, at least the shared experience has seemingly brought the gang together and papered over some of their differences.

It’s explicitly revealed that Connor has always seen Jasmine’s real face, but doesn’t care. He needs something to believe in and, as he says in his little soliloquy beside a comatose Cordy (has Charisma Carpenter been sacked or something?), it’s nit that he’s naive enough to believe Jasmine but her lies are better than all the other lies.

Interesting, then, that is should be he that kills her, shortly before seemingly sodding off for good, which I suspect many of us wouldn’t mind. Less interesting is the half-hearted debate between Angel and Jasmine about paradise vs. freedom; I trust we all side against tyranny on that one.

So it’s a witty and well-scripted episode, one that actually makes good use of Connor, but one where a good script can’t quite paper over the awkward pacing of the plot, not even with its wit. But we end up with the status quote seemingly restored and our heroes back in the hotel- and up pops the seemingly alive Lilah...

Angel: Sacrifice

"Anyone else feel like the last feisty wife in Stepford?"

Last episode showed us life under Jasmine. This episode develops it a bit- Jasmine has now got the Governor to surrender all of California to her, and indeed the Archbishop of Los Angeles to devote his cathedral to worship of her. But essentially this episode, now that the status quo of Jasmine, is about progressing the plot as Angel and the gang escape, regroup, and start to figure out how they can end all this.

Except Connor. He's had Cordy's blood, he can see what Jasmine really is, presumably with maggots and all. But he doesn't care; for once he can belong to something, And, my God, the boy is so unbelievably annoying at this point, not questioning Jasmine even when she moves Cordy somewhere else. Incidentally, once again Charisma Carpenter is called upon to do no more than act unconscious.

We begin with the gang heroically escaping to, er, the sewers, where they get to hide from Jasmine for a bit. And, perhaps, conveniently, Wes thereby discovers an insect-like demon thing that provides a clue, insisting that "we loved her first" and letting slip that Jasmine's weakness is her true name. If you think about it too hard this is somewhat too convenient, but it's handled with just enough sleight of hand.

So, when the National Guard inevitably comes for them- led by Connor with, creepily, Jasmine's voice- its time for a double cliffhanger as Angel jumps through a portal to the dimension of the incredibly powerful and fanatical mantis things, while the rest of them face a fight against hopeless odds. Ah, Angel. You do like to be so gloriously random come the end of the season, don't you?

Angel: The Magic Bullet

"I've been so alone, so scared. I'm not like you. I'm not a champion."

The first few minutes of this episode are deeply effective; an old fashioned, happy LA with a prominent ‘50s car and a Beach Boys soundtrack. It all looks idyllic- until we see that Fred is being chased and is lucky to escape. Winifred Burkle, alone, against not only her friend but a city that is slowly becoming a hive mind, where everyone is the eyes and ears for Jasmine. Things seem hopeless, but despite the quote above Fred is a hero.

This is the episode that shows what a completely Jasmine-controlled LA is like, with the hotel crammed full of worshippers and a terrifying, stultifying conformity that is bad enough before we even start asking about the people Jasmine seems to take to her room. And when Connor asks where they went she simply says “I ate them”. She can do whatever the hell she wants and is clearly evil.

I like the interlude with the hand-eating demon, butvthe sheer hopeless drives Fred to seemingly surrender- only to shoot Angel Through Jasmine, thereby mixing their bloods and reversing the spell. It’s clever, she’s clever, and she and Angel are able to do what’s necessary for the plot and free the minds of the whole gang. Yes, it’s a stretch that the blood of Cordelia, comatose mother of the goddess  (what about Charisma Carpenter?) will do the same thing, butbthe rpisode gets awY with it, and is a bloody well-crafted 42 minutes of television.

It’s depressingly predictable, of course, that Connor should betray them even after they’ve seen the light. What are we going to do with that boy?

Angel: Shiny Happy People

"Even before you were born, I chose you to be my father."

Just as with two seasons ago, with the adventures on Pylea, the status quo has changed utterly for the last few episodes, with the baby of Cordelia (asleep all episode) and Connor turning out to be Jasmine, a good-nature’s paragon of virtue and a goddess whom everyone feels the urge to worship, including our heroes, who under her leadership swiftly free LA from all the vampires and demons which are oppressing it. Or is she?

This episode feels weird; first Angel and Connor fall under her spell, returning to the hotel to the horror of their friends, with Wesley trying to convince them they’ve been manipulated. Yet, as soon as Jasmine arrives, they all drop to their knees. It’s deeply disconcerting, as well as unusual to see Gina Torres (Firefly has just been cancelled) in a part like this.

Of course, a chink in her armour soon appears as just one of many worshippers suddenly shouts that she is a “monster” and “deserves to die”. This is rationalised as hate... until Fred randomly sees Jasmi’s probable true face, with maggots everywhere. This breaks the spell for her and she ends up on the run, the only person in the whole city not under Jasmine’s spell. Yep; finally we get a situation in which Fred is unambiguously the hero. The scene in which first Wesley and then the whole gang turns against her is chilling.

This episode consists mainly of set up and establishing a new status quo, so it’s best, I think, to reserve judgement for now. But yet again we see why Angel, with no status quo that can ever be relied upon, is indeed the televisual equivalent of Chris Claremont’s run on X-Men. And that is high praise indeed.

Angel: Inside Out

"Guy steps out for a few hours, half the place goes supervillain."

This episode is about as much a game changer as it’s possible to be. Cordy has been exposed and confronted as the baddie and is freed to spend all of her time quite openly mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ing. Except, that is, she’s still grooming (the word gets used) and gaslighting Connor.

Ah, Connor. We’ve discussed how annoying he is before, but he creaky crosses a line here, and seems as though he’s genuinely meant to come across as an annoying little shit. Even his mother’s ghost, sent by the Powers to speak to him, are unable to get through. He’s completely under the spell of whatever’s controlling Cordelia, and goes as far as to be an accessory to the cold-blooded murder of an innocent girl. His hands are quite literally dipped in blood.

We learn a lot, too; the thing controlling Cordy has been manipulating events for a long time, including Cordy’s ascension and an awful lot of recent events. Much seems to be depressingly pre-ordained, although Gunn gets a wonderful speech about how some amount of agency still exists. Skip, of course, has always been in on it and is, in fact, evil.

We also get a big montage of how it was in fact Cordy who did all sorts of unexplained things over the course of many episodes, and Wesley comes to realise that it was her who killed Lilah. It’s moving to see the renewed friendship between Angel and Wes here as Angel cares because Wes does, a nice moment.

It all ends with a flash of light as the baby is born and turns out to be Gina Torres, getting a compensation role after the cancellation of Firefly. And everyone kneels before her. Yet another twist in a series that glories in having no status quo. This is brilliant stuff and it’s looking awfully like a rather brilliant series with not long to go.

Angel: Players

"He's just making it up as he goes along!"

To some extent this is a quiet episode with time to breathe and enjoy a mini-break from full-on arc stuff, an episode the like of which we haven't seen much lately. But it's also cleverly titled, with both episodes about people being played.

This is first and foremost a Gunn episode, as Gwen (remember her?) suddenly turns up and asks for his help in a caper that she assures him is all in a good cause. The tricks him, a little, but he still has fun, and Gwen tells him firmly that he's far more than just the muscle, as he's been recently told by a manipulative Angelus and an angry Wesley. Even better, the damsel in distress turns out to be Gwen herself and the MacGuffin that is the subject of their heist turns out to be a devise that can cut off her electric charge, at least for a while, so for the first time in her life she can have physical intimacy. And she wants that to be with Gunn.This must be a rather confidence-boosting night for Gunn, and the fact that he gets no-strings rebound sex with a rather attractive and highly intelligent virgin who has risked her life to sleep with him can't hurt either.

Meanwhile, the gang all learn that Cordy is pregnant, Connor is the father and the pregnancy is abnormally far along, all very suddenly, and are somewhat taken aback. Given this baby's heritage, I'm not surprised. Cue lots of research, including a subtle scene where Fred and Wes discuss relationships, and why he got with Lilah. They are slowly coming to understand each other.

We get lots of disturbing gaslighting scenes between Cordy and Connor, and Cordy wandering around pretending not to be evil. But, as the last scene shows, she's been played, and is caught red handed. It's quite the hook, and quite the episode.