Hey! And just in time for my birthday -- a new exposition montage. Instead of a mixed bag of clips, there's a snazzy new presentation that actually has a little chronology and continuity. Sydney's voice-over tells us the story of her descent into spy-dom, fiancé getting killed because she told him about said spy-dom, etc., while black-and-white passport-type photos of the main characters (Sydney, Vaughn, Sloane, Sydney's dad, Jack) pop up; we also get to see Doomed Danny, said dead fiancé.
Previouslys. I swear, this show has the longest Previouslys before the damned opening credits, ever. So: Vaughn slipped Sydney her dad's classified file, and Sydney's nose for news sniffed out the missing pages in his file. Apparently an FBI agent named Calder was investigating Sydney's dad, possibly for selling secrets to Russia. Then, it's on to Badenweiler, where Dixon's smart thinking foiled Sydney's countermission, inadvertently killing four CIA agents inside the building. Building went boom; Sydney made with the waterworks.
Badenweiler? I don't even know 'er! Sydney's still crying. The building's still exploding. Dixon's shouting that they have to leave. He asks Sydney whether she's hurt. She squeaks that she isn't. Dixon grabs Sydney and bodily gets her to her feet; they start running through the forest, chased by security guards as they shoot. Dixon yells at her to keep running as he ducks behind a tree. Sydney keeps running and comes to a clearing where she leaps (or stumbles; it's hard to tell) behind a fallen tree. The security guards come to the same clearing and don't spot her. Some are sent to backtrack while one remains in the clearing. Dixon leaps on the guy and beats him into pulp. Meanwhile, Sydney is still crying. Oh, whatever. One would assume that she's seen plenty of this kind of action in her spy days, and I know she's Tired of the Lies and all that, but my God -- could she give herself away any more times? Why not just rig up a huge neon arrow and a sign that says "Double Agent, Right Here"?
Sydney voice-over. She's telling Vaughn that she froze and that Dixon had to drag her away. She told Dixon that she had a flashback about Danny. Vaughn tells her that she did everything she could. Sydney says that she was supposed to stop the detonation, and she didn't. Wow, that Sydney -- maybe she's getting her Masters in The Obvious.
Vaughn wrinkles his forehead, but not too deeply -- this is a scene only worthy of two forehead-creases. Once again, he points out that she couldn't have known ahead of time or done anything to prevent the horrible accident. Sydney says that she wants to tell Dixon, because he needs to know the truth, although she knows it's not her place to do so. Jennifer Garner's voice is so slow and ponderous in these scenes that I'm reminded of a woolly mammoth or some other slow-moving, large animal. I think she's trying to remind us how serious these scenes are, but instead I keep wondering if she had a Novocaine shot to her lip right before they shot these scenes. Sydney says that it's the right thing to do -- to tell Dixon -- and that those agents died for no reason. Vaughn sanctimoniously says that they died for their country. Sydney all but rolls her eyes at that little gem. She turns away. Vaughn says he's sorry she had to go through that.
Sydney's Apartment of Memories That Only Shroud the Truth. She has several candles lit and is going through old photos and books. Some generic alt-rock with a super-persistent bass line plays. I would say it plays in the background, but it's so loud it almost blocks the dialogue.
Francie enters. She looks disheveled and is wearing standard catering gear: button-down white shirt, black tie, and vest. Seeing her in the uniform gives me a freaky high-school flashback. Yich. Sydney notes that she's home late. Francie tells her she was working at a Bar Association dinner, where a lawyer threatened to sue her over undercooked chicken. "Can you imagine that?" she says dryly. "An obnoxious lawyer." Sydney smiles sympathetically and then asks Francie about her own obnoxious lawyer, i.e. Charlie. Francie tells her that they're meeting for lunch, and that she knows Charlie's going to break up with her. Sydney points out that he didn't say that. Francie says that all the signs -- Charlie meeting with another woman, sneaking behind her back, lying -- point to a breakup. Sydney says that he wouldn't meet specifically for the purpose of breaking up, and that when guys want to get out of something, they just vanish. Sydney, the Cynic. Francie tries to change the topic, taking the photo Sydney has in her lap and commenting that Sydney's mom was really pretty. Sydney agrees, sadly, and thanks her. Francie hands the photo back to Sydney and tells her that she has to change, and that she feels a binge coming on. Francie pauses and asks Sydney how her trip went. Sydney tries to smile and says, "Not good. I was working with these people and...they were terminated." Francie shakes her head and says, "The economy sucks."
Oh my God. Oh my God! I can't believe this. I actually just saw a scene where the acting and dialogue felt natural, and nobody was forced to do the Exposition Dance. Am I dreaming? Am I high? Holy smokes! Someone get me a cold compress.
Generic alt-rock fades out as Sydney reads in bed. Phone rings. Helen Calder -- FBI agent Calder's widow -- says that Sydney left a message for her.
Cut to Widder Calder's house. Unfortunately, Calder didn't talk to his wife about his work much, and Widder Calder has replaced all of Calder's photos with pics of her new boyfriend. Sydney -- thinking that the new boyfriend is Calder -- says that he looks nice. Widder Calder says that he is, and then realizes that Sydney has the wrong idea. She takes out a photo of Bentley Calder -- hidden in a drawer -- and shows it to Sydney, saying he wasn't so nice. Sydney looks intently at the photo, like she's trying to burn it with her eyes. Sydney asks the Widder for a copy. Cut to the photo. At first I thought maybe it was a young Sloane, or something, because there's an extremely superficial resemblance, but boy, was I wrong.
Sydney rushes home, rips open an old hatbox of clips, notes, photos, etc., and pulls out one about her mother's death. There are two mug shots: one of her mother, and the other of the "postal worker" who caused her death. Except that the "postal worker" in the photo is Calder. Whoa! That was surprising! That was actually surprising! I'm totally beside myself! I've also used up my lifetime supply of exclamation points!
Sydney. Vaughn. Some warehouse somewhere in L.A. Sydney expositions left, then right, then left again: all these years she thought a postal worker fell asleep behind the wheel, and her dad swerved to miss him, and the car went off the bridge. But her dad survived? How? Anyway, she says that, for years, she thought Calder was that man, but now she knows he was hunting her father for KGB ties. Vaughn isn't too worried, though; to him the whole story's still only worth two forehead creases. Sydney speculates that Calder was probably chasing them, and that if her father hadn't been a double agent, her mother would actually be alive. She pauses, apologizes for spilling her guts, and says (again) that she has no one else to talk to about this. Vaughn tells her it's okay. She then says she wants to report her father -- that maybe the missing pages in his file mean that maybe he's still working for the KGB. Uh oh. Vaughn breaks out a few new forehead creases. He tells her she is loco en de cabeza (basically), and that she needs to keep her eyes on the prize -- taking down SD-6 -- and Jack is the man who's helping them do that. Sydney verges on a freak-out. Thank God they're bypassing their usual trip to Lake Overlap; you can actually hear the dialogue. It's not exactly Ibsen, but it's nice to hear what's going on for once.
Sydney: Blah blah blah it's the right thing to do.
Vaughn: No, no, no, eyes on the prize.
Sydney: Blah blah blah this is just unacceptable, sometimes we have to do the right thing.
Vaughn: Bummer for you if your dad's selling secrets.
Sydney: [seething anger]
Vaughn: Give me a couple of days to find out what's going on.
UCLA. Or USC. Frankly, it could be Cal State Dominguez Hills; I'm not sure, since they've never given the university a name. The campus is beautiful, and I have a sneaking suspicion it's UCLA. Francie and Charlie are talking on a bench. Francie is taking the "best defense = offense" strategy, and telling Charlie that she's always supported him, and that she can't believe he's been sneaking behind her back and lying to her after all they've been through. Charlie cuts her off mid-spew and tells her he wants to be a singer. Whaa--? Exsqueeze me? Where the hell did this come from? Oh, well. It's better than having Charlie be cheating, couch-potato slime, I guess. Francie is dumbstruck. Charlie reveals that Rachel is his pianist (wocka wocka wocka); that the night Francie saw them, they were meeting to rehearse; and that their first gig is this Friday. He says that his being a lawyer has been his and his family's goal forever, and the thought that he really wanted to sing -- dammit, to sing! -- is just too scary to admit.
Will. Hallway of the fanciest non-existent newspaper ever in the greater Southern California area. He's on his ever-present cell phone and telling someone (presumably Francie or Sydney) that he wouldn't miss Charlie's debut for the world. Will walks to his desk. Jennie, his very personal assistant, is sitting there. Will tells her to get out of his chair. Bwa! Ever since Clueless, I'm a sucker for people being told to get out of chairs. If Will calls someone a "chucklehead," I will retract every mean statement I've ever made about him. Except this: he needs a new hairstyle. Jennie snarks that Will was talking to Sydney. Will tells Jennie to stop it. She tells him he has a message from the DMV, and that they've tracked down the fake Kate Jones via her license plate. Jennie -- who's apparently been hooked on phonics -- reads, "Eloise Kurtz," over his shoulder. Will tells her he plans to make a visit.
SD-6. The scary white-and-red room of identification. Sydney walks in, wearing boring black microfiber separates and some very, very tall black strappy shoes. Sloane follows her and congratulates Sydney on the Badenweiler mission. Sydney uncomfortably says that Dixon should get the credit for that. Oh. My. GOD. Was that subtlety?! Was that a bit of self-referential narrative that managed to make its point subtly, and to not to drill the concept of her double life into my head like a broken bit on a dentist's drill? Sweet Jesus McGillicuddy.
The Conference Room of Spies. Sloane tells Sydney that her pops -- Jack Bristow -- will no longer have his cover as a businessman at Jennings Aerospace, since his assignment there is complete. From now on, he'll be known as a portfolio manager at Credit Dauphine, since he'll be able to plan missions from a closer position at SD-6. Jennifer Garner has the funniest facial expression here: she's obviously taken by surprise, but tries to cover it up with a saccharine "Gee! That's keen!" look. Spy Daddy starts talking. I'm going to give up the name and just call him Jack, since it looks like he's garnering a big part of the upcoming storylines here. So: FTL abandoned their base at Rabat (the name of a fabulous shoe store in San Francisco, also, by the way), and that while the heavy equipment like the T-47s were moved, the recovery team managed to find an incredibly annoying cache of birthday cards. Except he doesn't say the words "incredibly annoying." Or "birthday cards," either, actually. He tosses one to Sydney. It's got a giant yellow happy face. It opens to reveal the words "Happy Birthday" and the single most annoying bit of tuneage since "The Macarena," only nowhere near as memorable. Jack says that FTL also abandoned their facilities at Kenilworth, and that while doing a sweep there, they recovered -- you guessed it -- a birthday card. Marshall is eating what I thought was an overcooked cranberry scone, and he's practically making out with the damn thing. Jack tosses the card to Dixon. Dixon asks whether the ink's encoded. Marshall, his mouth full, says that was his first thought, and then halts himself abruptly. He offers a bite of his fritter to the table at large. Damn. Marshall looked like he was having a great time with that fritter, and because I am an advertiser's wet dream, I had to halt the recap writing at this point and go hunt down a fritter, which, in my neighborhood of pan-Asian-fusion bistros, gyms, and gay porn, was not an easy task. Sloane cuts Jack off. He says that Analysis found a code buried in the music, and that they haven't deciphered it.
There's some more spy gobbledegook. Apparently on some other FTL barge -- who the hell are these people? I'm starting to think they're like the Penatvirate in So I Married an Axe Murderer -- you know, the secret organization of the five most powerful people/families in the world, and it includes the Queen and Colonel Sanders and I forget the rest, but the point is that FTL has a code machine they need to get. Dixon asks how it works and Marshall cracks, "Very well," only his inadvertent quip doesn't fly so well with the kids. In fact, it lands with a heavy, wet thud. More spy talk: only eight code machines made, crew had to abandon FTL barge because it was set on self-destruct, and now they have to get the decoder from an FTL agent named John Smythe who's based in London, masquerading as an art-gallery owner. Jack tells Sydney that her job is to get the code machine back and find out what FTL is up to. Didn't they used to do this back in the '40s, when they'd hide decoder rings in random boxes of Ralston cereal? Anyway. Sydney gives her dad what I think is supposed to be a dirty look, but it ends up being kind of a sexy look, which then gave me a serious case of the creeps.
Sydney exits the meeting as her dad hustles to catch up with her. "I would've told you about the reassignment, but you were in Badenweiler," he says. He tells her he heard about the other agents. Sydney hisses, "I know about you," and accuses him of killing her mother. "Every time I think I know just how awful you are, I learn something worse. But this time, I'm gonna make sure you pay." Close-up of Victor Garber's face. The man has mastered minimalist acting: he twitches maybe three facial muscles and you get it all: distress, heartbreak, sorrow.
I never comment on commercials, but you know what? That iPod looks damned cool. I want me one.
Close-up of some guy in khakis and golf shoes at a driving range. Or whatever the heck those things are called -- I think it's a driving range. Pan up. It's Vaughn. Oh, God. Vaughn would so play golf. And I know the Beastie Boys and Samuel L. Jackson do it, that the game takes an incredible amount of skill, it's more than a game, yada yada yada, but here are my feelings on golf: it's lame. Remember that Eddie Murphy song "Boogie in Your Butt" when someone offers him twenty bucks to put something in his butt and he says, "I'd rather golf, to be perfectly honest with you"? Not that that's at all remotely related, but it's the one joke I can think of that expresses a clearly anti-golf sentiment. Vaughn takes the spot to Sydney, who must've really pissed off Costume that day, since she's wearing knee socks, an unflattering mini-skirt, and a tucked-in Lacoste shirt with the collar dragged halfway down her back. He puts some thing on the shelf between them. "What's this?" she snaps. "A bug," he says. "What are you, twelve years old?" she snaps, all out of proportion with the actual event. You know, I would root much more for Sydney if any of her remarks had even the teensiest bit of humor or self-deprecation or awareness to them. Anyway, it's a real bug, as in a listening device. It's totally passive, and there's some other spy gobbledegook, but the point is that it's undetectable, and cleverly disguised as a bug, and Sydney is to leave it after she snags the code machine. Vaughn tells her to deliver the code machine to SD-6 -- since they won't have time to switch it -- and that SD-6 will decode everything and report it to the affiliate offices, and since they're tapped into the mainframe at SD-6, they'll know about it, too. Oh. MY GOD. Is that continuity?! Was that the real, homey, cinnamon-apple-y scent of continuity? Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Sydney and Vaughn somehow manage to ignore my case of the vapors as Sydney asks how far along the CIA is with stealing SD-6's files. Vaughn replies that it's almost 2%. Sydney is astonished. Vaughn says that they can't steal stuff quickly, or SD-6 will notice there's a leak, but that if they're patient, they can get a lot of stuff to do some real damage. Vaughn then tells Sydney that her dad is clean. Sydney spills that she confronted her dad and told him she knew about Calder, the investigation -- everything. Vaughn is pissed. He almost creases his forehead, but not quite. Sydney says that if Vaughn had been there, he'd have done the same thing. Vaughn points out (quite rightly) that she needs to learn some self-control. (Is this character continuity? And development?! Oh God, I'm afraid to look too closely in case it's like fool's gold, or a bag that turns out to be fake Prada when you get too close.) Sydney says that he doesn't know what it's like to have a parent killed because of this deadly game of spy vs. spy. Vaughn then gives us a ham-handed speech about how there's a book under glass and a memorial wall at the CIA, and how the families are never told how the agents died, and that he was "eight when [his] father became one of those stars." He continues: there's a certain protocol followed at every funeral, and they admonished him not to be conspicuously emotional and -- wait for it -- he's the dude assigned to the funerals of the Badenweiler Four. Sydney surreptitiously tries to wipes the egg off her face.
Apartment of Kate Jones/Eloise Kurtz. Will's voice is muffled as he says he has a package for Eloise. Isn't this how many Penthouse Forum letters start? Kate/Eloise opens the door -- without checking the peephole, I might add -- and sees Will, begging for five minutes of her time. She asks how he knows her name. He says he won't use it, if she's worried. She says she doesn't know anything. He points out that people who say that always know much more than they think. He then goes into detail about how they killed Danny. They do a little paddling in Lake Overlap as Kate/Eloise tells him she has pepper spray and goes to get it off the table as Will keeps asking for five minutes. She gets him right between the eyes. Will hits the floor, yelling in agony. Oh, poor Will. My sympathy did not preclude my rewatching this scene about five times and giggling, though. Kate/Eloise tells him that she warned him, and asks him just to go away.
London. Shots of double-decker buses, rainy London streets. Very white (the walls, not the people), crowded art gallery. I think it's supposed to be a crowd of the Beautiful People, but the art is so awful and derivative that mostly it looks like some scene of Beautiful People circa a bad, late '80s movie, like Weekend at Bernie's. Some alt-rock plays. Close-up of Dixon and Sydney. Dixon is wearing so many textured fabrics that I start to fear he may cause a fire by walking too rapidly. He's wearing a black silk ascot, wide-collared black shirt, and a velvet blazer with glittery pinstripes. He looks like a refugee from The Love Boat. Sydney has fared no better: a chartreuse halter-top dress and a long black wig complete with little Bettie Page bangs. Sydney asks if he's ready. Dixon nods, looking nervous.
Sydney sashays her way off-camera as Dixon lights up an enormous stogie. Everyone looks disgusted. Across the room, some bespectacled guy nods to a curly-headed guard. They both approach Dixon. Sydney sneaks behind the barricade where Curly-Top was standing.
Bespectacles approaches Dixon and tells him that it's a non-smoking gallery. Dixon, in a winceworthy French accent, tells him, "Not anymore." Bespectacles tells him that if he doesn't put it out, they're going to kick him out. Dixon asks what kind of a deal he can get if he buys the entire collection. Bespectacles decides to alert the gallery's owner. Dixon keeps smoking.
Alt-rock makes an annoying switch to techno as Sydney, in her bright-green dress, moves down a very white hallway. Cut to a door, then inside an office as the gallery's owner gets the call about Dixon. He leaves, arming the motion-sensor security system. As he walks down the hallway and turns a corner, Sydney ducks behind him and tosses her purse into the door of his office as it closes, wedging it open without a sound. Neat! Where was Sydney when I was at summer camp, and none of us could figure out how to jimmy a lock? She hustles inside and closes the door, then grabs a conveniently placed cap (good job, Props) and tosses it over the motion sensor installed in the ceiling's corner. The camera circles her as she puts on some green glasses that let her spot the hidden wall safe. Hey. Where was Marshall and his little gadget talk, dammit? I feel cheated. Sydney walks over to the wall and pops it open.
In the gallery, John Smythe is chatting up Dixon. People are coughing in the wake of Dixon's cigar, who asks if the cigar is bothering Smythe. Smythe says, "Not at all."
Meanwhile, back at the ranch: Sydney has attached her watch to the safe's door, which tells her when she's rolled the dial to the correct numbers of the combination. I guess that's easier than the old-school method of smashing your ear to the dial and listening for the tumblers to click. The door swings open, and she grabs the code machine, which conveniently fits in her beaded handbag. On her way out, she sticks the bug under one of the blindingly white desks, just as the tweed cap falls off the motion sensor. The alarm goes off.
Dixon. Smythe. Dixon is "tempted" by the art, but not sure. Smythe points out that he's come down by 10%. Dixon points out that 10% is not 20%. That Dixon: a master of the Socratic method.
Sydney leaves the office just as Curly-Top heads back that way, gun drawn. Sydney realizes that the guard is coming to check everything out, so she tries the door, but it's auto-locked.
Oh, man. Another commercial for Ocean's 11. I. Cannot. WAIT. I could happily watch commercials for Ocean's 11 for at least an hour.
Curly-Top races down the hallway to the office door, but no one's there. The camera pans up to Sydney, perched atop water pipes above his head. Of course, the pipes start steaming, and she grimaces, unable to touch anything. She manuevers herself over as silently as possible while Curly-Top fumbles with the keys. She looks like she's in massive pain. Curly-Top opens the door, finally, and looks inside. Sydney takes the moment to swing off the large pipes she was on and to grab a smaller (and presumably non-scalding hot) one. She then does some gymnastic parallel bar move where she swings around the bar and winds up above the pipe, holding herself in a plank position, purse clutched in her teeth. Good Lord. Please give Jennifer Garner, her stuntwoman, her trainer, and her dentist a medal. That is no mean feat. Curly-Top leaves, satisfied, and Sydney drops to the floor and runs.
Gallery. Smythe tells Dixon that he won't charge him the tax just as Sydney -- sporting a French accent so terrible that it makes Pepe Le Pew sound like a native -- appears and says, "Chéri? Ah zeenk ah pwefer zee Lahmborhgheeni." She has a very credible dissatisfied-mistress moué on her face. Dixon says, "You are zee barthday girl!" and takes her arm. Before they leave, he hands his stogie to Smythe and asks, "Could you do something wiz zees?"
Los Angeles, City of Secret Singers. Francie is trying on a bizarre series of garments trimmed with faux fur. She points out that Charlie has never sung, anywhere, even in places like the shower or the car. Sydney vetoes a faux-fur wrap, saying it's too "I'm with the band." Francie frets that if Charlie had a good voice, she would've heard it. She levels a look at Sydney and pleads with her to be there, because Charlie might not be good. Sydney says that of course she'll be there, but that it might actually be the start of something great, and leaves as she tells Francie to raid Sydney's closet. Francie says, "Thanks. But I've got boobs." But apparently not a whole lot of tact.
Sepia-toned bar. Francie, Sydney, Will, and his sister Amy -- sporting the Run, Lola, Run hair of the first episode -- are meeting Rachel and Charlie. Rachel confesses that she's heard a lot about Francie and thinks she sounds totally perfect, since she's doing stuff like going for her MBA. Francie says, "Okay, I like her." Francie kind of gets on my nerves. She has a lot of teeth. Charlie introduces everyone else. Will asks whether Rachel's heard about him. Rachel confesses that she hasn't. Man. Do the writers hate Will, too? Just then, Will's cell phone goes off. It's Kate/Eloise. Will takes the call, while there's some meaningless, "You'll be great!" chatter around him. As soon as Charlie and Rachel leave, Francie leans over to Sydney and mutters, "This is going to be a disaster." Sydney whispers, "Stop it!" Sydney is really a very good friend to Francie.
Meanwhile, Kate/Eloise apologizes to Will for pepper-spraying (snicker) him. Will says it's okay, and that he had his glasses on. Kate/Eloise says that she's not a bad person. Will says that he never said she was, but that he needs her to help him out. Kate/Eloise fumfahs for a second and tells Will that "they" gave her $2000 to impersonate Kate Jones, and that she needed the money because she was between jobs and her car was broken (and still is). Will asks if they can talk in person. They make a date for 3 PM, and Will offers the name of a good mechanic as well. Kate/Eloise is silent. Will tries to be reassuring. Kate/Eloise hangs up without a word. Oh my God. I don't want to kill Will. What's going on? Did the writers come over and slip some MDMA in my Special K with Red Berries?!
Back to the club. Charlie takes the stage, and the audience dies down to murmurs. Charlie looks like he's about to be dropped off a cliff. He makes eye contact with Francie, who looks as scared as he does. Sydney takes one look at Francie, and at Charlie, and in the dead silence, shrieks, "Woohoo! Chaar-LIE!" and pumps her hands in the air. Everyone laughs and the awkwardness is officially broken. Okay. That was cute. But no more, people! I can't have my worldview rocked any more today.
Soft piano accompaniment. Charlie starts to sing that old classic "Have a Little Faith in Me." His voice isn't bad, but he's certainly no Al Green. He's also a little...flat. But he's certainly not horrible. Francie is relieved. She leans over to Sydney and whispers, "That's my boyfriend."
Charlie sings as we see Sydney walking into SD-6 in slo-mo. She looks around contemplatively and shrugs out of her coat. Dixon walks up and helps her out of it. I love Dixon.
Conference Room. Sydney presses her thumb into one of the windows of the code machine she took in London. Marshall and Sloane explain that it can create code based on a person's DNA, and that's how the greeting cards worked: the encryption was DNA-based. Jack explains that the recipient of one of the cards was Gareth Parkishoff -- at least that's how I think it's spelled -- and that he was the leader of one of the FTL's cells in Rabat. Jack and Sydney exchange a look. Sloane tells them that they need Parkishoff's DNA, but that he's dead, and his burial ground is unknown. Sloane snaps, "Marshall," but he doesn't respond. Marshall mutters, "The system's a little sluggish." Sloane is the picture of impatience, and finally tells him to get Fisher. Marshall looks a bit disgruntled at suddenly being made into the office bitch; he snaps his laptop shut and takes off.
Sloane continues: Parkishoff was assassinated by Martin Shepard. Jack interrupts and fills Sydney in on Shepard's situation: how, à la The Manchurian Candidate, Shepard was programmed to kill if someone uttered a certain phrase, and his mind would be wiped clean of the memory of said act if you said it again. Dammit! I had all these Manchurian Candidate jokes I was going to make, and it's almost the end of the episode. Damn you, ABC! Damn you! Sloane hands a volume of John Donne's poems over to Sydney, saying that they've known the correct phrase for some time. Sydney is to go undercover as a mental patient in Bucharest in the same institution where Shepard checked himself in, and to utter the proper phrase and ask him where Parkishoff's body is. Shepard, by the way, is played by the excellent actor John Hannah, who did such a good job of pretending to want to kiss Gwyneth Paltrow in Sliding Doors.
Fisher and Marshall enter. Marshall asks whether Sloane would mind if he took off to investigate the bandwidth leak. Sloane tells him to get him a report by the end of the day. Sloane gets back to the biz at hand: Fisher, under the guise of Dr. Carlos Fontanetta, is checking Sydney in. Sydney looks at Jack, who has a look of deep disgust -- or something -- on his face. I have no idea why he would look disgusted, but there you have it.
Sydney. Street. Jack runs after her and tells her that since her handler's out, he's giving her the countermission: she's to get the coordinates of Parkishoff's body and relay them to SD-6, who will decode the message. Sydney butts in to tell him that her handler is at the funeral of four heroes. Then she tells him to go to hell. Jack stops her and says that her life and the lives of others are at stake. She walks off. Jack says, "What you think you know, you don't know." Sydney asks for an explanation. Jack says, "You don't have clearance." Sydney spits, "'Clearance.' To be told how my mother died." Jack: "There are rules, Sydney." Sydney: "Then you break them." Jack: "Think about what you're saying. Acting cavalier about breaking the rules. Think about the last time you did something like that." The Bass Drum of Major Burns starts up at this point in the speech. Jack continues, "I am not a perfect man, I know that. But I am smart enough not to draw simple conclusions and act upon them. I would think if anyone had learned that lesson, it would've been you." Sydney simultaneously tries not to cry, and to back away from the heat, because, DAMN! Can you feel that heat? Ouch! Ouch!
Romania. Why didn't the title say "Bucharest"? The Strings of Melodramatic Madness play as Fisher/Fontanetta walks down the hall with another doctor -- whom I will dub Dr. Ratched -- and Sydney, in a wheelchair. Fontanetta explains that "Miss DeCamilla" (I think) is bipolar, and that during some relief work up north, she suffered a psychotic break, as well as auditory hallucinations and believing the government wants to kill her. He then lists all the heavy, experimental medication she's been on, and says that until he can find her parents, he needs a place to keep her. The Romanian mental institution looks exactly the way you would think a Romanian mental institution would look -- dreary beyond belief. Sydney scans the windows and sees various patients, until she finally comes across the slack-jawed, marble-eyed Shepard. Dr. Ratched menacingly asks how Fisher/Fontanetta found out about this institution when there are so many in Bucharest. Note to self: Skip Bucharest on tour of Eastern Europe. The doctors stop, and Sydney is taken to her cell. She struggles. It's sad to watch. They lock the door. It looks like a big cage. There's a bare lightbulb. It's all so One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest that I'm wondering if Ken Kesey got some royalties.
Los Angeles. Will knocks on the door of Kate/Eloise. He says that he's coming in, so easy on the pepper spray. One of his knocks pushes the door open. He walks into a completely clean, empty apartment. He pauses before he exits and touches the wall. His fingers are smudged with fresh paint. Someone on the forums asked why he did this, since he probably could've smelled the fresh paint, but I'm guessing the writers had him touch the wall so that Will would know something had occurred in the apartment that would require a coat of fresh paint. Just a guess.
Funeral. Apparently funerals are worthy of four whole forehead-creases for Vaughn. The Plaintive Piano of Mourning tinkles, and a woman sings as the camera pans across the funeral grounds over. And over. And over. Again. Vaughn glances over at a sad child. His brow furrows even further. Who wants to chip in and buy Michael Vartan a new facial expression for Christmas? Vaughn walks over to the widow and the child. He squats down and tells the kid, "Your dad was a hero." The kid throws himself at Vaughn and squeezes his neck. Who can blame him? Vaughn looks so cuddly and harmless, like a plush toy.
SD-6. Marshall watches a screen and says, "Oh no." Then he shoots out of his chair and starts yelling about a worm and runs into the server room to shut down the hard drive. The Bass Drum of Doom (slightly heavier and more repetitive than the Bass Drum of Major Burn) starts. He pants like he's run a marathon. Sloane brings on a heavy dose of the scary and calls someone, saying, "I think we have a mole."
The Bass Drum of Doom continues to thump. Sydney lines up to get some grub. She walks through a room of twitching, biting mental patients and sits with Shepard, at the farthest table in the back. She says hi. Shepard looks at her. He looks scary. Scary, and nuttier than a Mr. Goodbar.
Fisher/Fontanetta sits in an office with Dr. Ratched. Dr. Ratched -- who has scary, dead eyes, by the way -- hands him some form. Then, exuding menace, he tells Fisher/Fontanetta that he checked with the consulate to thank them for the recommendation, but that they knew nothing about it.
Lunchtime! Cut to Shepard and Sydney. Shepard rasps, "Do I know you?" Sydney recites the Donne poem, and I was hoping against hope that it was something from "The Flea," but it's not. I forget what poem it is, but it's insanely famous, and it starts with, "No man is an island, entire of himself." It might be a Donne essay, too. ["It is an essay called 'Devotions upon Emergent Occasions,' and is excerpted here." -- Wing Chun] Shepard looks at her, and then goes for her throat, and starts choking her. He asks, "Who are you?" and Sydney wallops him. I wish people would stop choking her at the same time they ask her questions. She struggles to get his hands away from her throat.
Dr. Ratched and his scary, dead eyes watches the struggle on the TV screen behind Fisher/Fontanetta as the latter does a damned good job of lying on his feet, claiming that the consulate referred them to a health department, who gave them the clinic's name. Dr. Ratched flatly says, "Well. That explains it."
Lunchroom. Guards break up the fight and taser-gun poor Shepard. This episode is filled with non-lethal weapons, I must say. Shepard breaks away, but then they taser him again. Sydney struggles to breathe, but then the guards grab her, too. She tries to wallop them down, but there are too many.
Langley, VA. CIA. Sean/Weiss walks out, and a random agent walks up, looking for Vaughn. Sean/Weiss says that Vaughn's on funeral duty and snarks, "Why? You finally get a date?" Random Agent says that it turns out that Krushnik (I swear, that's what the man said), who runs the asylum, is with K-Directorate. Sean/Weiss is horrified.
Bucharest. Mental asylum. The guards have Sydney in a straitjacket, but she breaks away and runs down the hall. The strings here are frenetic, to say the least. It sounds like Tchaikovsky, but I am no classical music expert. For once, though, the music actually serves its purpose instead of being jarring and annoying.
Sydney runs into Dr. Ratched's office and closes the door. In a neat move, she uses the broken wires on the door to unhook her strait jacket. She struggles free and turns around, only to see Fisher in a chair. The strings get higher as she approaches him. She turns him around, only to see he's been garroted, and his shirt is covered in blood.
week: Sydney finds out that Shepard knows her, although she doesn't know him.