This is undoubtedly a strong episode. It's also one that works on a variety of different levels, subverting expectations at repeated junctures, advancing the scope of the show's tone and of the history of the world our protagonists occupy, as well as raising some fun questions about the show as a whole: conspiracies within conspiracies, and the elusive truth that hides somewhere between fact and fiction. The Cigarette-Smoking Man's elaborate history, detailed here, is by turns shocking and pretty ridiculous, creating an episode that is pretty darn spectacular in what it wants to achieve.
An element of the show I didn't touch upon last review was the presence of Dr. Harleen "Harley Quinn" Quinzel, professional deranged megalomaniac and The Joker's right-hand woman. She's one of my favorite comic book characters and a huge reminder of my childhood (she regularly stole the show on Batman: The Animated Series and the Mad Love graphic novel is ridiculously awesome), but she's one of those comic book characters that just can't work outside of the page. A character so outlandish needs that rare actor who can make the insanity believable. Mark Hamill has got the voice down pat, while Heath Ledger was, of course, remarkable. But Mia Sara just can't pull that off.
A pretty good episode which utilizes the majority of the cast extremely well. The only downside is that the Landau's are still dragging this season down. Just like last week, I liked that a lot of the subplots folded into one another. Matt's stupid decisions are once again revealed to be a result of his libido, while at the same time Christian accuses Michelle of attempting to kill Burt. As a result, Michelle gets mad, Christian manipulates Kimber into bed before dumping her, and Kimber hooks up with Matt in revenge. It's a big web of craziness, this show.
Women have it rough. Especially in the entertainment industry. I remember reading years ago that the box office under-performance of Jodie Foster's vigilante thriller The Brave One meant the studio behind the movie immediately black-balled female-led projects. Supposedly "they didn't sell". This kind of sexism also seemingly occurred as a result of the WB's short-lived Birds of Prey, a flawed comic book adaptation picked up to series following the success of the network's Superman re-working Smallville. The show flatlined quickly after it premiered, and was quietly canceled after thirteen episodes. Its failure, knowing the industry, probably sealed the fate for any other comic book-adaptations based on female characters. So no Wonder Woman, Hawkgirl, non-appalling Catwoman, nor any consistent update of the Birds of Prey themselves. Bummer.
Plastic surgery is intrinsically horrifying. Just the names of the procedures represented here (liposuction, face peel) sound pretty gross. Pair this with the at-the-time growing popularity of such procedures, and it's unsurprising that the show would explore this area of medical science, if only to exploit it for all of its grotesque qualities. So, we're audience to face meltings, face suckage, explosions of blood, and pentagram leeches. The latter is clearly a band-name in the making. It's a little disappointing, however, that Sanguinarium is lacking in the substance department. Sure, it's insanely gross, but pretty light everywhere else.
I have always struggled with this episode. I remember watching it years ago and coming away from it tired, unmoved and a little frustrated that I had just spent an hour watching something so boring. Before watching it again, I assumed that it must have been something wrong with me, and not the episode. It's Morgan & Wong, surely it's gotta be pretty great. In the end, while this episode isn't as bad as I remembered, I'm still not sure it's executed well at all.
Despite opening with an arresting dream sequence featuring Sean and Christian as gay lovers (shame the show caved to network pressure, forcing them to cut an actual kiss), Faith Wolper, Ph.D suffers from being weighed down by two of this season's worst story arcs. The Landau storyline unexpectedly blurs together with Brooke Shields' nutty shrink, a turn of events which briefly gives the Burt subplot some life. Faith herself is exposed as being completely wacko, and I loved her sadomasochistic tattoos. However, the Landau arc doesn't interest.
While it does feature the return of the dreaded "Scully kidnapped and tied up" motif that has been resurrected repeatedly over the last three seasons, Unruhe is in fact pretty spectacular. Cribbing together the most successful elements of The Silence of the Lambs and several series classics like Irresistible and Grotesque, this is a wonderfully terrifying exploration into the mind of somebody left so mentally disturbed that he believes his horrific actions are actually beneficial to his victims.