Dawson's Creek: Parental Discretion Advised (2.22)

I apologize in advance for being hypocritical, but this was almost too melodramatic to truly work. Dawson's Creek is at its best when those heady teenage emotions are pushed center stage, and it ordinarily creates some instantly earnest drama. While Parental Discretion Advised does feature a ton of crying and revealing emotional truths, most of the plot devices to get to those points feel painfully generic, and not at all the type of drama that DC usually employs. With fires and suicidal thoughts and drug deals and wire-taps, the finale resembles more than anything an average episode of Beverly Hills, 90210 -- and I'm not sure this show was ever aiming for that.

Dawson's Creek: Ch...Ch...Ch...Changes (2.21)

I wrote last week about the quiet blandness that has suddenly appeared in Dawson's Creek, where everything has become so unassuming that you can't help but freak out. Besides Andie and her mental problems, the show is almost too quiet right now, stuck in a creative impasse and screaming out for some kind of drama. This episode follows suit with that understated feeling, but at least builds to a couple of muted cliffhangers that promise a minor hint of intrigue for the season finale.

Dawson's Creek: Reunited (2.20)

Andie glimpsing Abby's ghost in the last ten seconds of Rest in Peace could have easily read like the show indulging in vaguely supernatural hooey for no other reason but to lend the episode some metaphysical intrigue. Instead, Reunited turns what could have been something silly into something tragically real -- since it was the first of a run of events in which Andie hallucinates the dead people closest to her, her mental problems surfacing once again. It's a saddening story, Meredith Monroe making Andie's sometimes obnoxiously manic personality this vivid and upsetting thing rather than something to dislike her over.

Dawson's Creek: Rest in Peace (2.19)

There's an interesting sensibility to Rest in Peace, which addresses the complicated reactions that we all have to death. Abby Morgan, as fun a character as she was on the show, wouldn't be somebody you'd enjoy encountering if you ever met her in reality. Hearing of her death would be naturally shocking, but it'd be hard to eulogize her, or put her on some kind of post-death pinnacle purely because of how tragic it is for somebody to die so young. But the show does a strong job of exploring that contradiction, mourning the circumstances of her passing, but not making out that she was ever a good person.

Dawson's Creek: A Perfect Wedding (2.18)

For all the stupid plot developments and over-written insanity of Dawson's Creek, it's easy to suddenly hit that moment where you realize that you really, really love the show. Even though you recognize how intrinsically lame the whole thing is, that sense of overriding '90s nostalgia can't help but surface in you. A Perfect Wedding is one of those episodes that just bashes you over the head with warmth, featuring emotions that cut deep with their resonance and a sense of drive and momentum that never lets up. It's an overwhelmingly adorable episode, even if it does end with somebody plummeting to their death off the edge of a boardwalk. Oops.

Dawson's Creek: Psychic Friends (2.17)

"It's a preposterous soap opera about a bunch of teenagers who talk too much". Yikes. Everything that's been pretty clear for a while, that Dawson's film is self-indulgent goop that nobody outside of the DC ensemble would ever give a damn about, is actually stated here, in a gloriously blunt plot twist in which Dawson's hot film class teacher tears his work to pieces. It's harsh and brutal, but damn does it feel earned. Like she says, the industry is a gargantuan bitch-monster, and Dawson's hacky teen melodrama-fest isn't going to get some important producer to jump on the Leery train. It's a ballsy move for the show to completely undermine his entire life's focus, and for that the writers deserve a ton of credit.

Dawson's Creek: Be Careful What You Wish For (2.16)

It's always been an overriding problem with Dawson's Creek, but I'm still not entirely used to characters bending their emotions and switching priorities in such a short amount of time -- and it's usually confined to the annoying Dawson/Joey relationship, which is all crazy flirtation and longing gazes one week and then angsty resentment the next. They're "on" this week, with Dawson determined to win her back since her relationship with Jack went down the gay tubes last episode. But it's a problem that's especially horrible, since the constantly conflicting emotions that appear and disappear in equal measure can only mean that you wind up a little bored of the characters themselves, since any internal consistency flies away.

Dawson's Creek: ...That Is the Question (2.15)

Part of the reason I enjoyed last week's episode so much was that it avoided the preachy sincerity of traditional 'coming out' episodes, since the show went with a more introverted exploration of sexuality, with a character coming to terms with their own emotions. Where this episode takes a dip in quality is in the various on-the-nose discussions that Jack's maybe-gay revelation brings. But, at the same time, I'm aware that asking a late '90s WB teen series to avoid the saccharine is like asking Barney the Dinosaur to not be so purple. It sort of comes with the territory, and luckily most of ...That Is the Question manages to eclipse some of the weaker elements of the story.

Dawson's Creek: To Be or Not to Be... (2.14)

While everybody remembers this as the big Jack episode, it's in actual fact a huge moment in time for Pacey, who confirms his position as one of the most sympathetic, compassionate and strong-willed characters on the show. His defense of Jack is worthy of major kudos, putting his own education at risk to stand up for what's right. Mr. Peterson is something of a ridiculous caricature of evil teachers, and I can't remember if we're ever given indication for why he's so harsh here, but the contrivance at least pays off in the character development given to the rest of the cast.

Dawson's Creek: His Leading Lady (2.13)

For anybody who's seen Scream 2, it's no surprise to learn that Kevin Williamson enjoys translating a traditional narrative into a movie within the existing narrative. So just as Sidney Prescott got disturbed that her real-life experiences had been turned into a hit slasher movie, here we have Joey struggling to cope with "Creek Times", Dawson's film based on the events of the last year. What makes this all so much more screwy than Sidney's experiences with Stab is that Dawson lifts entirely from reality, so much so that whole conversations are taken straight from real life and tossed into his movie script. It's all strange and ridiculous, and you can understand why Joey would be weirded out… especially with an annoying actress monitoring her every move in the hopes of capturing the aura of 'Josephine Potter: character'.

Dawson's Creek: Uncharted Waters (2.12)

'Daddy issues' are a firm favorite of the television genre, and they arrive here in the form of Sheriff John Witter, Pacey's drunken, abusive father who goes out of his way to undermine his son at every opportunity. It's a story that's been casually referenced since the show's inception, but this is the first literal depiction of the abuse -- Pacey driven to tears by his father's constant belittling of his life choices, his personality and his future. Uncharted Waters, as a result, is arguably a little manipulative as a story. We don't get a whole lot of insight into why Mr. Witter acts this way, or why somebody so volatile is happily elected Capeside sheriff. But if you ignore the stretches in logic, Pacey's characterization is mildly affecting. Joshua Jackson is able to finally source his character's inner trauma and low self-esteem, and conveys a real desperation for parental approval.

Dawson's Creek: Sex, She Wrote (2.11)

Like any good mystery, events are kept at arms-length for most of this episode, designed to keep us on our toes as we try and work out which DC couple actually did the deed the previous night. It's at the expense of some of the more human elements, though, since we're mostly watching characters discuss things in such vague exchanges, purely to confuse the audience at home. Nonetheless, Sex, She Wrote initially works so well because Abby and Chris are pushed center stage as younger, skeezier Miss Marple clones -- trying to work out the sex mystery after stumbling across an anonymous letter. It's a fun ride, not without its flaws, but surprisingly warm at the end. And that sounded a whole lot more sexual than I had intended.

Dawson's Creek: High Risk Behavior (2.10)

Sex had always been Dawson's Creek's cachet. It's now-dated sexual openness created widespread controversy at the time, while the show continued the long-standing YA tradition of making sex the be-all and end-all of high school existence. The thing that everybody's thinking about, that everybody's terrified of, and that everybody's eager to start having. High Risk Behavior is probably one of the more overt episodes centered on sex, so much that the WB plugged the hell out of it: "Which one of the DC-ers loses their virginity? Tune in to find out!", etc. It's an hour that isn't entirely perfect, but manages to find some interesting new angles to a sort of tired premise.

Dawson's Creek: The Election (2.9)

Andie is very much becoming a character of two halves. She has this annoying penchant to speak a mile a minute, sputtering dialogue like a crazy-woman and alienating everyone who isn't Pacey in the process. At the same time, though, she's vulnerable and tragic, making her this ticking time bomb that we can't help but sympathize with. Andie is somebody who is rapidly facing the same fate as her mother, but hasn't yet come to terms with it. When somebody pokes fun at her, she doesn't fight back or take it in her stride, instead undergoing an emotional meltdown. It's this version of the character that works better, Meredith Monroe having the saddest eyes whenever Andie gets hurt. And no matter how often Pacey tries to help, it's a personal issue that she can only get over by herself.

Dawson's Creek: The Reluctant Hero (2.8)

Sometimes Dawson's Creek reaches so hard to make its lead character appear a good person that you begin to wonder if James Van Der Beek was demanding script approval at this point. The Reluctant Hero paints Dawson as one of the last incarnations of a dying archetype: the selfless, classic 'good guy', who saves threatened women, does the right thing, and stays moral and true despite heavy temptation. Sure, most of his actions here are worthy of praise -- but, being Dawson, you can't help but wonder if all of it is really that selfless, the character doing all these things to make himself look better, rather than doing them because it's the right thing to do.

Dawson's Creek: The All-Nighter (2.7)

The All-Nighter tries so hard to be another Detention that it winds up being pretty soulless. The format is exactly the same, with the Dawson's Creek ensemble tossed together in one location and having their deepest secrets exposed. Only instead of Abby Morgan being the instigator, this time it's the all-together less charismatic Jane magazine. It also suffers from there not being a whole lot of juicy secret-keeping lately. We all wanted Joey's crush on Dawson to be revealed last year, but I don't think anybody cares all that much if Andie finds out about Pacey's fling with Tamara. Eh. It's all a little weak.

Dawson's Creek: The Dance (2.6)

It's interesting to see the show almost directly addressing some of the weaker elements of season one this year, particularly when it comes to Joey. Joey, throughout her young life, has done little besides pine for Dawson. If she has ever cultivated extra-curricular interests, we've never exactly been informed of them. The Dance allows Joey to actually come to terms with her own lack of personal interest, as she realizes that she's spent so long directing attention to the boy next door that she's completely failed to grow as a person herself. It's an intriguing new approach to her character, and grants her some much-needed dimension.

Dawson's Creek: Full Moon Rising (2.5)

It's funny with a show like this to find certain things fine one week, and annoying the next. Dawson's Creek has always been a series that has straddled that thin line, and Full Moon Rising whiplashed back and forth between both extremes. It doesn't have the most auspicious of premises -- the full moon is making everybody supposedly crazy, something Joey ruminates on in one of her trademark overlong, frowny monologues at the top of the show. The drama, at certain points, resembles both a 7th Heaven shriek-fest as well as an Aaron Spelling soap, with face slaps and cries of 'easy lay'. But, naturally, the show pulls you back in the end.

Dawson's Creek: Tamara's Return (2.4)

It's a mark of the show's constant growth that season two is still attempting to open up new avenues for its tight ensemble cast, and after some strong work for both Pacey and Jen, it's Joey's turn to have her world explored a little. Watching this episode, it was interesting to realize that we still don't know a whole lot about Josephine Potter. We know her dysfunctional family background, we know that she's academically successful, and we know that her entire life revolves around Dawson. But what do we actually know about her own personality and the things that make her tick? It's arguable that her artistic streak has been pulled out of left-field, but I like that she has gained some kind of passion in her life, a personal interest removed from the romantic entanglements that derailed a lot of her potential last season.

Dawson's Creek: Alternative Lifestyles (2.3)

Mike White's episodes always seem to have an irresistible hook to them. Detention had the cast locked up in a room together; The Scare was a Friday the 13th horror show; and Alternative Lifestyles pairs the ensemble off as part of an elaborate school project, along the lines of that standard TV trope of 'taking care of an electronic baby', only this time with the more believable idea of having the cast plan the finances of various types of couple -- so Pacey and Andie are the blue collar couple; Dawson and Jen are the upper middle-class suburbanites, and Joey is the single mom. Of course, this is all just a jumping off point for various romantic tribulations, and White once again creates vivid sparks.