Charmed: Battle of the Hexes (8.8)

It's easy to look back at vintage Charmed through rose-tinted glasses, especially in light of the steaming piles of wet poop being thrust in our collective faces this season. But the Prue years certainly weren't perfect. Remember the teeth-pulling Dan/Leo love triangle? Lovestruck owls? Jenny Gordon? But in spite of all that, the one thing that kept you coming back to this show was the chemistry between the sisters and the believable interaction between absorbing characters. They were certainly flawed individuals, but their flaws rang true, and the Halliwell sisters were fun to be around. I bring all this up because what was once the show's saving grace has long vanished. I dislike everybody right now. Paige is a moron, Piper is angry all the time, and Phoebe is eternally wrapped up in her quest for semen...

Charmed: The Lost Picture Show (8.7)

As much as it may look that way, this isn't actually a re-run. Sure, almost all the storylines here have been done on the show before, but technically it's still a new episode. Charmed season eight, people -- where things are tossed together with all the subtlety of an elephant parading through a retirement village. Everything here blows, but the worst elements involve the complete re-writing of history, notably in the Paige/Sam relationship. Long-standing resentments were resolved back in season five, yet here Paige is ridiculously antagonistic towards him. And while it is pretty shitty that he hasn't contacted her in three years, the show does such a bad job of depicting her animosity that it reads like they've never even met before.

Angel: Destiny (5.8)

There's definitely a fan-service quality to Destiny, if only because it seems like a response to one of those 'who'd win in a fight between...?' fanboy questions, along the lines of Freddy vs. Jason, or Batman vs. Superman. But it quickly becomes clear that Destiny, while eventually settling for rock-'em, sock-'em hysterics, does at least have a conscience. It continues to explore one of season five's few running themes, the show wondering whether merely having a soul is tantamount to being a good person, and whether Angel will ever get himself out of this funk that he's been in for a while. It's no Lineage, but definitely another strong episode that sets the show back on track.

Angel: Lineage (5.7)

The first episode in season five that doesn't feel regressive in its sensibilities or alternatively plain terrible, Lineage wonderfully depicts the contradictions between your private self and your public self, and what happens when the barriers between both personas are torn down. Wesley has always been a character of two extremes. When he arrived on Buffy, he was this bumbling butt-nugget that made Hugh Grant seem like the pinnacle of manliness. But after experiencing torture and pain and emotional devastation, he's wound up this brusied anti-hero -- a complete 180 to what he once was and a testament to the Whedonverse's dedication to the art of character growth.

The X-Files: Sunshine Days (9.18)

These last run of episodes have seemingly been trying to represent every past sensibility of The X-Files, bouncing from serial killer horror to monster supernature, back round to alien mythology and now comedy experimentation. Sunshine Days is a little light on the comedy, but Vince Gilligan lends a neat sense of strangeness to the episode, which opens up as a wacky goof-ball mystery full of strange eccentrics and visions of 1970's sitcoms, before settling on more character-driven drama with a surprisingly tender father/son relationship. It's tonally disoriented, but easily reflects all the ideas and creativity of the X-Files writing team over the years.

The X-Files: Release (9.17)

Presumably having now become aware that the show was about to end, Release is the second episode in two weeks that brings to a close some of the series' long-running story arcs. With that in mind, it would be a little unfair to criticize the episode for not being as impactful as it could have been -- potentially in the hands of writers with a stronger sense of direction, we would have already had a greater emotional attachment to the story of Doggett and his deceased son, instead of just a couple of vague references over the last two seasons. Regardless, Release is a strong episode on its own, despite its faults.

Dawson's Creek: A Weekend in the Country (3.12)

Oh God, the corn! While Dawson's Creek is superficially all about over-angsty teenagers who obsess over every little detail of their lives and talk like the televisual equivalent of being beaten over the head with a thesaurus, it only rarely exploits the sentimentality which is so readily at hand. A Weekend in the Country unfortunately overdoses on the maudlin, whole rafts of embarrassing dialogue handed to the ensemble as they reminisce about their favorite smells (??) and remember the good times. There's then a horrible Big Chill pastiche with everybody dancing in the kitchen, which is about as fun as being flayed alive. Granted, this episode isn't a total crock but, boy, is it hard to love.

Dawson's Creek: Barefoot at Capefest (3.11)

Identity plays an important part this week, primarily when it comes to the idea of who you should be, versus who you actually are. It gets a little confused in the Dawson story, as he's inspired to abandon his movie aspirations by Nikki, but the principal still rings true. Nikki, who is turning out to be a surprisingly engaging love interest, talks about her own perception of film as a medium to express stories, while claiming that Dawson's love for filmmaking comes from his love of film itself. There's definitely a difference there, and it's no surprise that Nikki's work holds greater artistic merit. But it's a story that angers Joey, since she views Dawson's decision as him compromising his identity. Isn't it just natural evolution though? Dawson being inspired by his peers?