THE DEAD ZONE: SEASON 4
4.4: Still Life - 4.5: Heroes and Demons - 4.6: The Last Goodbye - 4.7: Grains of Sand - 4.8: Vanguard - 4.9: Babble On - 4.10: Coming Home - 4.11: Saved
4.4: Still Life
Written by Juan Carlos Coto
Directed by Mike Rohl
The format of this series is such that no matter how often I guess the outcome, the process of watching Johnny get to the conclusion is usually compelling enough to keep it from becoming predictable. This is the second episode in a row where I felt like it was a little too easy to see where the story was going. The difference between “Double Vision” and this episode was the supporting cast. Johnny’s distaff twin was incredibly hot and full of personality. Even the beautiful people in this episode were somewhat boring.
There were moments when the writers were trying too hard to make us care about the whole “art” motif. Bruce goes on and on about this artist as though he’s the cream of the crop, which is never the best of ideas when the prop department can only come up with mediocre paintings that aren’t all that impressive. Then again, I openly admit that paintings are not my favorite form of art, so an episode devoted to the world of a famous artist is probably not going to rock my world.
Patrick Bauchau does a nice enough job as Andrew Lyne, but I didn’t really feel much in the way of chemistry between the supporting cast members. The only one that seemed to communicate much, beyond the simple demands of the story, was Nora. As a result, it took less than half the episode to figure out that she was the killer, and once it was clear that Lyne’s subjects were not his real daughters, Nora’s motivations were equally clear.
Chloe is meant to be sympathetic, but it’s hard to get a grasp on her character. Her first introduction is a bit unsettling; was I the only one thinking that she was playing at seduction with that playful smile? Sure, it makes sense with the story in retrospect, and it probably set me thinking in the right direction, but it also suggested some creepy father/daughter interaction.
Speaking of, what was the point of having Lyne and his agent living a decadent lifestyle with those “Eyes Wide Shut”-lite parties? Some attempt at making it look like Lyne wasn’t the relatively benign man that he seemed to be? This is another area where I had some issues with Bruce and his characterization. He made the parties sound a lot more extensive and disturbing. Are a couple of lesbian kisses and sexually charged looks supposed to indicate a lot more behind closed doors? That’s the assumption, but like the art aspect, Bruce’s descriptions are more impressive than the reality. (Yeah, it’s basic cable, but those first season scenes with Dana were a lot more provocative than this!)
I did enjoy some aspects of the story, but the writing felt more like someone’s first shot at telling a “Dead Zone” story. Looking at the writer’s credits, I’m wondering if he’s a new addition or if this is a spec script. Maybe it was just the subject. Whatever the case, this didn’t grab my attention like the typical “Dead Zone” episode usually does.
Writing: 1/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 1/4
Final Rating: 6/10
*****
4.5: Heroes and Demons
Written by Michael Taylor
Directed by James Head
Like the previous episode, there’s a feeling that the writers are struggling to find the hook into each new story. Having played with most of the obvious variations on psychic murder mysteries, the writers seem to be struggling to keep the series from slipping into a serial mode in terms of the mythology. As much as I like the overarching concepts of the story and how it diverges from the original novel, I wonder if the writers need to take advantage of the large episode order (a total of 20-22, IIRC) to delve into the Stilson mythos.
My wife happens to work as a teacher in a “second chance” school for behaviorally challenged children. Since many of those children have a mild form of autism called Asperger’s, she’s been taking the necessary training and extended educational courses to understand the condition. She also has a cousin with a form of autism. The bottom line is that she is often skeptical of how the condition is treated in the media, and in this case, in her opinion, the pattern holds. (Yes, I know that she’s not an expert, but she knows more than I do on the subject and so I defer to her on this one.)
This episode is no better at portraying the intricacies of autism, since inevitably, story concerns trump reality. Frankly, realistic depictions of autism would be incredibly frustrating and boring. This is inevitably where Johnny comes into the picture, since his ability can cut through the communication barrier to a certain degree. But the writers can’t get over the fact that the information would be nearly impossible to interpret, so a consistent rationale is established.
I’m not sure that I liked the whole Tolkien-esque fantasy theme. The opening sequence neatly incorporated elements of the opening to “Fellowship of the Ring” and Galadriel’s monologue, right down to a bit of Elvish. It communicated the idea that Thaddeus is completely immersed in his interpretation of the world. But that’s something I found hard to accept: how could a child so focused on that frame of reference manage to travel on his own without anyone raising an eyebrow.
The story requires Thaddeus to be a silent witness to events critical to his father’s survival. Therefore one would have to accept that the child was regularly following his father around and basically interacting with the world on enough of a level to accomplish perfect surveillance. Yet it’s also made clear that the child was often completely unable to interact with his father. Apparently, this is possible with autism, but funny how it also happens to serve the exact needs of the story.
Perhaps it’s just that episodes centered on autistic children are troublesome for me, based on the personal angle. I’ll admit that possibility. I will say that the young actor who played Thaddeus did a very good job. But that final scene, where Thaddeus opens up to his father? It rubbed me wrong. It seemed a bit too dishonest, designed purely for the emotional payoff. It broke the spell, in a sense, created by the concept of a child with so many challenges accomplishing something profound. I thought it would have been far better to have Thaddeus’ father simply recognize that his son loves him dearly, even if he can’t express it directly.
I don’t want to make it sound like that’s the only problem I had with the episode. I found the “mystery” to be rather predictable as a whole. I immediately guessed that the partner was the true crooked cop (isn’t that always the way it goes?), and that made the rest something of an exercise. If I had enjoyed the shift in perspective a bit more, the predictable elements might have been less annoying. But as it stands, I simply didn’t like the episode.
One aspect, quite apart from the story itself, is the music. I actually like the new theme, because after the initial disappointment, I let it slip past my defenses. But the music within the episode has been spotty at best, and this time around, it really got on my nerves. Television scoring is largely done by computer these days, and sometimes, it’s all too obvious. (Early “Stargate SG-1” episodes were particularly guilty of destroying a fine episode with cloying synthetic music.)
It’s way too early into the season to be worried about a decline in quality, especially when this is an episode that might simply be ranking low for purely personal reasons. But I’m still holding out hope that the next episode will reach my expectations!
Writing: 1/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 0/4
Final Rating: 5/10
*****
4.6: The Last Goodbye
Written by James Morris, Shintaro Shimosawa, and Steven Binder
Directed by Michael Robinson
I didn’t really care for the last two episodes. This one is similar to the other two, but I found myself enjoying it more. It still had some of the same predictable weaknesses, especially in terms of investigating an apparent murder, but the framework of the story is a bit more personal. I find that the episodes dealing with Johnny’s personal life, in conjunction with his ability, rise above the more standard fare.
This could have easily been an episode about a random rock star’s son who Johnny just happens to catch in concert. Instead, the writers make the elder Foldes and his music an iconic part of Sarah’s history with Johnny. This could have easily imposed upon the existing mythos of that relationship, but instead, it adds another layer of meaning. Granted, it could have been grafted to the overall past history a bit more carefully, but the concept itself plays into the nostalgia that many children of the 1980s can relate to.
It’s rare for Johnny and Sarah to be on the same page this season, so it’s good to see them working together. Is this a sign that the writers are steering back into all-too-familiar territory? I certainly hope not. The Johnny/Sarah/Walt thing has run its course, and at this point, they need to settle into a stable equilibrium. The scenes with Walt seem to indicate that his fears have been largely addressed, despite the indiscretions of the past. Johnny, too, seems to have moved on.
Sarah’s comments, on the other hand, make her sound a lot more conflicted than she should be. But then, that could have a lot to do with the circumstances. Foldes and his music became, in her mind, something forever associated with Johnny and her life with him. There’s a metaphor at play between Foldes, his apparent death, his discovery, and Sarah’s relationship with Johnny. If Sarah equated Foldes’ death with the end of her relationship with Johnny, is his “resurrection” now dredging up emotions she thought she had resolved?
Even if that’s the case, it doesn’t have to be more than a wistful moment. Foldes returns to life, so to speak, but he has no intention of returning to his old life. Similarly, Sarah might be reminded of the depth of her love for Johnny, but she could also be reminding herself that their feelings for each other must evolve into close friendship.
Ben Foster seems to bring a true intensity to his roles, even if the “deeply conflicted” thing is getting a bit old. I truly disliked his character on “Six Feet Under”, and while I see a lot of the self-loathing in Darrin, at least he’s not so annoying. One actually believes that Darrin is this scarred inside, and that’s what Foster brings to the table.
What I didn’t like were all the plot holes. The gorgeous Audrey is stabbed in the back of the shoulder with a needle, and the coroner still concludes that it was an overdose! That’s the kind of plot convenience that drives me nuts. And given who killed Audrey in the first place, it’s hard to figure out who beat up the reporter. For that matter, who was Darrin’s mother? Some random groupie?
It’s the possible metaphor with Sarah that makes the episode work for me. It helps me set aside some of my issues with the predictability (I saw the killer’s identity coming a mile away) and the plot holes. As someone who grew up in the 1980s, I completely understand Sarah and Johnny’s point of view. Just look at how people react to the combination of Springsteen, the disappearing icons of the Jersey shore, and their relationships…it’s something everyone can relate to on some level. It’s still not as strong as I expect from earlier seasons, but it’s regaining momentum.
Writing: 1/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 2/4
Final Rating: 7/10
*****
4.7: Grains of Sand
Written by Christina Lynch, Misha Rashovich, and Loren Segan
Directed by James Head
Coming into this episode, there were three relatively predictable and, in my opinion, overly average installments that suggested that the writers were struggling to keep the series moving forward. The season premiere had been designed as something of a mission statement, with Johnny demonstrating a higher degree of self-confidence. Unfortunately, too many of the ensuing episodes were little more than Johnny Smith, Psychic Detective.
This episode takes a completely different approach. Instead of a murder mystery, Johnny is embroiled in an illegal immigration tale, complete with a family that has been tragically torn apart in the process of seeking a better life. Like the episode of “The 4400” that aired the same night, the central theme is social and political commentary. Johnny is driven to some difficult decisions, because his visions predict a bad life for the baby that he has saved.
Where the plot was fairly predictable on “The 4400”, this episode uses the unique format provided by Johnny’s ability to play on audience expectation and allow for a wider variety of plot twists. Most of them revolved around Eva, the duplicitous INS agent. My wife and I were both convinced that baby Miguelito would end up with her by the end of the episode. Thankfully, it wasn’t quite as obvious as that.
At the heart of the tale is Johnny’s struggle to let go of his desire for fatherhood. He wants to be able to raise a son in his own image. I’m surprised that no one brought up the matter of JJ, because he was key to understanding Johnny’s psychology in this episode. Johnny has a role in his son’s life, but the fact remains that Walt will (barring a plot twist between now and the end of the series) always be JJ’s primary male influence.
It’s natural, then, for Johnny to see the chance to influence and shape the future of a child who, it seems, has no future without his intervention. It’s not simply that Johnny wonders if a baby will be able to survive in the kind of world that illegal immigrants are often subjected to, as depicted in this episode; he has the ability to gauge, moment to moment, whether or not Mikey will have a chance to fulfill his potential.
So the central conflict for Johnny, so far as I can tell, is his lingering desire for fatherhood and the moral responsibility to return the child to his true father. This triggers Johnny’s involvement in the trafficking of human beings and the realization that a form of slavery is alive and well in America. While shipping illegal immigrants around the world in shipping containers has been going on for a long time, it’s a horror that many Americans have been shielded from, thanks to the media.
Johnny also gets a harsh lesson in how such trafficking is typically run. While the situation is simplified somewhat within the episode, the fact remains that many illegal immigrant subcultures are victimized by their own people, who seek to advance their own chances of survival by preying on others with the same hopes and dreams. It’s not a world that Johnny understands, and as such, he puts himself in the line of fire, trying to do the right thing within a very grey situation.
As the episode progresses, Johnny’s visions unlock more and more of the puzzle, and the depth of the problem is ever more clear. When the writers let the story unveil itself in such a manner, it’s all for the best. The audience gets to learn along with Johnny, which is what was missing from the last few episodes. Too often, the audience was waiting for Johnny to catch up with what they already knew.
If there’s a troubling side to this episode, it’s the manner in which Johnny’s designs on Mikey are handled. His actions are far beyond legal, and Walt would have every reason to call in the authorities and lock Johnny up for good measure. But two things are very clear as the episode evolves: Sarah is getting very good at knowing when Johnny has a vision and is lying about it, and Walt has gotten to the point of trusting Johnny’s instincts with little or no argument. Granted, Walt was very quick to trust Johnny’s instincts, but on something this questionable, he really presents very little resistance.
There are some sloppy editing moments with the baby, but that’s expected when dealing with a young infant on set. The writers also try to avoid getting too cute with the baby, though some of Johnny’s visions are a bit over the top (and those child actors were horrible!). Some of the baby jokes were a bit clichéd, but in general, it worked. If those scenes had led to more depth regarding Johnny’s hopes and fears regarding JJ, this would have been an even stronger episode overall.
Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 2/4
Final Rating: 8/10
*****
4.8: Vanguard
Written by Juan Carlos Coto
Directed by James Head
I’m actually on vacation this week (at least, part of the week), so I didn’t get to see this one uninterrupted. Nonetheless, I got to see most of the episode, and I was very happy to see a return to the underlying mythology of the series. It’s still very complicated, and one is never really sure if Johnny is getting anywhere in his crusade against Stilson, but it’s always a lot of fun!
I happen to enjoy these episodes more than most of the stand-alone installments, but I almost always prefer “mythology” episodes because of the depth that they provide to the writers in terms of material and past continuity. There’s something to be said for a really strong anthology-style episode, and this series has more than its share; however, being able to turn back to Stilson and his machinations every so often is a good thing.
Oddly enough, my sister finds this aspect of the series to be boring. She has little patience for the chess game between Johnny and Stilson, probably because Johnny rarely makes any headway. But that’s part of the reason that I love these episodes. They highlight many of the drawbacks to Johnny’s ability. It’s easy for the writers to use Johnny’s ability as a crutch in some of the stand-alone installments, since he needs to be right most of the time to retain credibility. (How he’s proven right, and the lengths he must take to decipher his visions, generate the better part of the drama.)
It’s a lot harder for Johnny to be “right” and effective at the same time when dealing with the Stilson episodes. After all, Stilson must get away somehow, and if Johnny were to stop Stilson from bringing on the end of the world, how much fun would that be? Thus each side must gain some sense of victory, even if it’s fleeting. Stilson must always be one step ahead, and Johnny must deal with the fact that changing things based on visions is a gamble, at best.
This episode is a perfect example. It turns out that Alex, basically Johnny’s former star pupil, will invent a material that has unexpected (at least by some) military applications. Those applications enable a more compact and stable design for the core of a nuclear weapon. Thus nuclear war is made simpler, just in time for Stilson to become President of the United States. The implication is that when Stilson destroys the world, this weapon is the key; without the material that Alex invents, that future is prevented.
There are actually a lot of holes in that logic, and the episode deals with the most obvious of them: why is Alex the only person who can invent the material? Sure enough, anyone with the basic design can carry the work forward. Perhaps more troubling is the assumption that Stilson’s endgame, intentional or not, can be prevented by changing one small detail. Yes, it’s clear from the visions that the material becomes an important element in the future apocalypse, but there’s nothing to prevent something else to take its place if this material is not invented.
The point is that there are clearly many paths to be taken to the same future. In this case, the fact that Alex is out of the equation is meaningless. One is left to wonder if he is simply fulfilling a function that would have been completed by someone else. In other words, perhaps the future is meant to happen, regardless of whatever Johnny tries to do, and the key elements will happen with or without his intervention. Only the names change.
So for me, this episode is fun because both sides are playing the odds in a game that they don’t completely understand. They all know that Johnny and Stilson are at odds. Many of them understand the stakes. Stilson is playing to win on his own terms, regardless of what he may or may not intend as a future consequence. Johnny is trying to prevent that, but he makes decisions on limited and conflicting information. Neither really knows if they are making the right moves, because they can’t see the whole board. It lends this episode, which has a relatively standard plot, a bit more depth and drama.
Aside from the interplay between Johnny and Stilson, which is always fun, there’s the little matter of Sarah’s news. Things were complicated enough when it was Johnny, Sarah, Walt, and JJ. JJ was essentially a continual trigger for Sarah’s torment. Now that things have more or less settled, there’s a new complication. In the previous episode, Sarah seemed to be thinking about her relationship to Johnny again. Now there’s a new child in the mix, and it’s clearly Walt’s. Sarah would have a clear reason to commit herself to Walt and her family, and that could be something that the writers intend to use to explore whether or not Sarah is really ready to let go of Johnny as anything other than a friend.
Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 3/4
Final Rating: 9/10
*****
4.9: Babble On
Written by Adam Targum
Directed by Mike Rohl
This has been something of a rocky fourth season for “Dead Zone”, but I think that the past few episodes have put things back on track. I went into this episode cold, and since I had no conception of where the story was going, I found it rather revealing. I couldn’t remember, as the story unfolding, whether or not this idea of a genetic component to Johnny’s ability had ever been explored.
Some might not take to the concept very well, but I think it makes perfect sense. People have brain injuries all the time, and yet in the vast majority of cases (as seen on the series), those who have recovered haven’t been cursed with the same abilities. If I recall correctly, in the very first episode, there’s evidence to suggest that Johnny always had the potential for these visions; the accident and coma simply altered his brain structure and chemistry to the point where that ability became far more prominent.
The logical extension of that would be the revelation that someone in Johnny’s family had also experienced visions. Of course, that would have major implications, especially since his ability was always treated as something unexpected and unique. Well, what a shock…Rvd. Purdy knew all about his father’s visions, and helped put the man in an institution. So all that shock and awe about the visions in the first season makes a lot more sense, given how corrupt Purdy is.
This adds a bit to the story of how Purdy managed to get involved with Johnny’s mother. Purdy has always seemed like a greedy bastard, and his manipulation of Johnny’s estate and trust fund was just plain criminal. All that said, Purdy also seems to have other designs (several, in fact), and placing Johnny’s visions in the context of “God’s work”, as opposed to madness, is clearly related to Purdy’s overall agenda.
That explosion was easily one of the biggest effects on the series this season, and it was rather impressive. Skipping over how Johnny survived was not. OK, it wasn’t all that important to the story, but I found it rather hard to believe that two people trapped in the middle of a gas explosion big enough to drop a building would get away with relatively minor injuries!
I thought that the format of the episode, the peeling back of several layers of the mystery in an overlapping fashion, worked very well, and demonstrated a lot of the originality and complexity that brought such quality to earlier seasons. A lot of that complexity was missing from a few of the episodes this season. This is the difference in my mind: as predictable as this story was, it didn’t unfold in a predictable manner. That’s what I felt was missing from episodes like “Still Life”.
Something else surprised me this week: the music wasn’t quite so intrusive. It was still rather bombastic and quite present in every scene, but it meshed with the material far better than in episodes earlier in the season. And that main theme is growing on me more and more. In this case, the music really set the stage for a tale that had far-reaching implications for Johnny.
Seeing how badly “Young Johnny” was portrayed (the kid couldn’t act), it made me think of a side to this episode that didn’t hit me immediately. If Johnny inherited the potential for visions from his father, then what is the implication for JJ? Will he also begin showing signs of seeing visions as he gets older? I’m flashing back to some of those disturbing “Millennium” episodes, where Jordan would begin seeing flashes of insight like her father, and it was never a good thing. How would Walt react to having a psychic kid in the family, especially given the plans Sarah talked about?
All in all, one of the best of the fourth season, with a concept that really made me look back at the earlier seasons with a renewed sense of clarity. This is the kind of direction that the writers should be going in, rather than the less satisfying “Johnny Smith, Psychic Detective” material.
Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 3/4
Final Rating: 9/10
*****
4.10: Coming Home
Written by Christina Lynch and Loren Segan
Directed by Mike Rohl
After a couple of great episodes that restored my interest in the season, this week was surprisingly weak. There were some good moments, but the story never felt like it came together as well as the writers had hoped. It’s probably not shocking to many that the stronger moments centered around Johnny and Bruce, and that the weakest scenes involved Sarah and her father.
The core idea seems to be a healing for Sarah and her relationship with her father, much as the previous episode seemed to be all about Johnny and his father. The difference is that Sarah’s father is alive. That actually doesn’t help the episode very much. In the previous episode, Johnny was forced to take a personal journey of discovery to understand what happened to his father.
In this case, Sarah’s father is front and center. Unfortunately, as capable as Ed Asner might have been in the past, he has no chemistry with Nicole at all. This only serves to highlight some of the weaknesses in the Sarah character and Nicole’s portrayal. While I’m one of the first to point out that Sarah is unfairly maligned and that Nicole has been the victim of some problematic plotting choices, the woman can act when she has something or someone to work with.
Two scenes made this very clear to me. The scene between Johnny and Sarah, where she discovers that Johnny has had a vision of her mother’s death, is very well done. There was the appropriate mixture of hope and horror on Sarah’s face at the notion that Johnny’s ability would allow him such insight. Clearly this isn’t something she’s discussed with Walt, let alone anyone else, and it brings them closer together at a rather delicate time. Just when these two seem to be growing into a friendship, they’ve gotten closer than ever.
On the other hand, when Sarah and her father finally find each other at the end of the episode, it’s painful to watch. There’s a clear attempt to make the emotional connections work, but there’s just nothing there. The fake crying gets old very fast, and I just couldn’t suspend my disbelief and let it happen. It was jarring, to say the least.
If the rest of the episode had been as strong as the Johnny/Sarah scene, then the episode might have overcome the lack of chemistry between Asner and Nicole. But the main plot is rather murky, and by the final act, it’s not all that compelling, either. I found myself struggling to work out the plot, which is usually not a problem for me, and the whole “Shadow Man” element was just plain silly.
It felt like the writers didn’t believe that the drama of Sarah’s family would justify an entire episode, but that the resulting closeness between Johnny and Sarah was something that they needed to work out. So element after element was tossed into the mix, from what I can tell, to make the episode complex enough to fill the hour. The problem is that it didn’t come together as well as it could have, and so once again, I’m left wondering if the writing staff underwent too much of a changeover this season, resulting in a lack of focus.
Writing: 1/2
Acting: 1/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 1/4
Final Rating: 5/10
*****
4.11: Saved
Written by Christina Lynch and Loren Segan
Directed by James Head
This season has been a bit haphazard compared to earlier seasons, which has made it difficult to keep clear perspective. There hasn’t been a good streak of solid episodes all summer; week to week, the quality has varied, especially when personal impressions are taken into account. If I were asked which season was my least favorite, I would have to say this one. That’s not to say that it was horrible; I just thought it was inconsistent.
This episode, or rather my reaction to it, is a good example of where I’m at with this series. I love the premise, and since I’m on record as a big fan of the series mythology (apparently in the minority on that), this should have been a strong finale, from my point of view. But it actually left me cold. I was disappointed to see that the story ended so quickly, since there were some other story choices that could have been more interesting. But more importantly, did it really take the story anywhere?
Sure, there’s Stilson’s relationship to Miranda, which is tied to Stilson’s rising political fortunes. Miranda knows that Stilson is a murderer, and that he’s probably been involved in a lot more than that over the years. She wants to get away from Stilson, and of course, Johnny tries to help her. But things quickly go wrong, and Miranda chooses to remain with Stilson, because otherwise, Stilson’s allies will kill Johnny.
That last bit is the only real point of interest in the entire episode. Everything else is by the numbers. Stilson’s friend Janus could have been manipulating the entire situation, right down to waiting for Johnny to get involved. Was Stilson steered in Johnny’s direction? Maybe so, but I had the sense that it was a sincere request on his part. I think Janus simply used Stilson as much as he used Johnny.
All of which plays into something that has always been a possibility, but has never been explored as much as it could or should have been. Who’s to say that Stilson is really the problem? Sure, Stilson is corrupt as it gets, but is he really the one paving the road to the end of the world? I’m more inclined to think of Stilson as the kind of charismatic figurehead that many of George W. Bush’s detractors paint him as: a man who is ruled by far more sinister allies, who operate behind the scenes. Janus fits that bill perfectly.
I’m not sure, however, that the writers are going in that direction, because it would complicate matters even further. Johnny was already asked, in the second season, to join forces with Stilson. This feels like a repeat of that moment. My only hope would be that this time, Johnny has a sense that if he were to take the offer, it would be to counter the influence of Stilson’s sinister allies like Janus. That’s the only thing that I think this episode put on the table: it’s possible for Johnny to make decisions that will prevent Armageddon, but only if he directly interacts with Stilson in the process.
Some of the more minor character moments play into this concept. Purdy was very confident in Stilson and his future, but he’s clearly worried about Janus and his ilk. He might try to convince Johnny to join Stilson. It would be interesting to see how everyone else in his life would react to such a decision. Would the writers be willing to take such an extreme step?
That might sound like a bad idea, but if the writers want to keep the mythology from growing stale, they need to shake things up. It wouldn’t prevent Johnny from getting involved in the stand-alone situations, and it would add serious complication and subversive quality to the mythology. The alternative is another episode like this, where it’s a slight change of pace, but in the end, it’s another example of Johnny acting without a clear sense of the consequences of his own decisions. That can be interesting, but the possibility is there to go in a more intriguing direction, allowing the character to grow in unexpected ways.
Writing: 1/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 1/4
Final Rating: 6/10
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