First things first: Philip and Elizabeth announce to the kids that they're separating, and they take it as poorly as you might expect. Paige suddenly finds all her snitting totally justified, so she turns all THAT up to eleven, while Henry starts getting sullen and shirks his Social Studies duties.
So, now that he's unencumbered and living out of a motel, Philip (as "Clark") is more amenable to Martha's pathetic begging for him to stay the night with her. The fallout the morning is twofold: one is that Martha ends up telling him that Special Agent John-Boy appears to be rallying agents for an extracurricular hit on a KGB agent. The second is that, as Clark makes his exit in the cold light of day, he's accosted by Agent Chris, who isn't sure what he's suspicious of, he just feels like pushing around the guy who just screwed Martha. When he threatens to take Clark in for questioning, Philip's back is against the wall. They fight, and Chris ends up taking his own switchblade (!) in the gut. So Philip piles him into the trunk and takes him to a safe house, where he and Elizabeth (whose disguise this week is going to take me SEVERAL days to figure out how to describe, so please meet me back here for the recap) decide that they need to keep him alive long enough to get him to talk about this assassination plot.
Stan, who had originally opted out of the extra-legal hit operation, is suddenly radicalized by Chris's disappearance, which he's certain is KGB-related. He has all these flashbacks to his and Chris's friendship, the better for us to see how scummy Chris really is, and he gets super cold with Nina. Most importantly, he hijacks that assassination attempt. When Arkady -- the original target -- doesn't show up for his regular jog, Stan orders the agents to grab his junior-level jogging buddy instead. He's a no-value target, but Stan delivers a painfully Walter White Lite intimidating speech in order to shake loose any information about Chris. Problem is, nobody knows a blessed thing about Chris, not this kid, not Nina, not Arkady. Just Philip and I Still Can't Talk About Her Disguise Elizabeth, who are finding it hard to get Chris to talk about much of anything, as he's in the process of dying. Once they've passed the window where the hit was supposed to take place, Chris tells them Arkady was the target. Elizabeth confirms that Arkady is still alive, however, but Chris dies before she can gloat about it.
When the FBI finds Chris's body, Agent John-Boy promises Stan there will be bloody retribution. Stan gets a head start on that when he returns to the house where they're keeping that little pipsqueak KGB agent. After offering him some Pollos Hermanos, he gets the kid to admit he's KGB, then blows his brains out. Because Stan has gone DARK, you guys.
Previously: Philip had sex with his childhood sweetheart and lied about it and Elizabeth found out and they broached the very 1980s subject of divorce. Martha helped "Clark" get info on American scientists, and Agent Chris saw Martha rummaging through files and got suspicious. One scientist and three FBI agents were killed in a bombing that Philip and Elizabeth were unable to stop and Special Agent John-Boy pledged vengeance.
Currently: the Jenningses are having family dinner, and Paige is acting unusually pleasant and everybody is raving about Elizabeth's fried chicken, so obviously someone's about to say something terrible. Of course, Elizabeth clears her throat and begins to make the "Daddy and I are separating" speech. Which is traumatic enough for children when they know Mom and Dad have been fighting, but Philip and Elizabeth are so good at hiding themselves that these two kids haven't the first inkling that they should've expected this. Paige even first guesses that Elizabeth is going to say she's pregnant. ...Okay, actually, Paige tells Elizabeth "you're too old" to be pregnant, and I'm going to have to STOP THE UNIVERSE for a second because Felicity was in college the same four years that I was in college, so Keri Russell cannot be too old to have children because if that is true then I SERIOUSLY DO NOT KNOW WHAT. Anyway, Elizabeth says that Philip will be living somewhere else for a while, and Philip decides to use the euphemism "hitting the pause button," which I can't imagine is very useful at all. Paige and Henry are devastated and react in the ways you'd expect. Paige gets snitty and curses and storms off, while Henry gets sad and introspective and wonders if they'll ever stop loving him and Paige.
Later, Henry has locked himself in his room, and Philip is barely not crying as he sits out in the hall and begs his son to open up. Poor Henry. Even his Runaways-style shag haircut is sad. "I love you so much," Philip says from outside the door. This is pretty heartbreaking.
Cut to still later, when Philip and his packed bags are leaving for the night. He says he'll see her tomorrow at the Beemans' party, to which Elizabeth expresses some uneasiness that they attend a party together. But Philip says Stan's work buddies will be there, so they should. See, as I said last week, this is why divorce/separation is a dumb idea unless they're ALSO going to stop working missions as a team. Now every time they work together, it's going to look double strange to outside observers. Where's Margo Martindale to whap them upside the head with her copy of Pravda? Anyway, Philip sad-walks out into the night.
After the break, we're at said party at the Beemans', where Paige stomps around avoiding her parents and Philip and Elizabeth have a hushed conversation about how things are going. Not well, is Elizabeth's update from the front lines. Apparently Paige slept in Henry's room because the young lad is inconsolable. Elizabeth tells Philip it's for the best, this whole thing, and he snits, "Yeah, I know." Hey, who was the genius who floated divorce as an option in the first place, guy? They disperse, to mingle. Stan and John-Boy and Chris and the guys are watching hockey. At first, I thought the show was getting cute and showing the USA-USSR "do you believe in miracles?" game, and I was preparing to raise an unholy army of logistical nitpicks, but fine, it's just the "Eastern Conference quarterfinals" between the Calgary Flames and Philadelphia Flyers and HEY! The NHL didn't have Eastern and Western conferences until 1993. It was the Wales conference and Campbell conferences, and FURTHERMORE, in 1981, the NHL didn't separate their playoff bracket by conference anyone, so I don't know what The Americans is trying to pull here, but I am NOT HAVING IT.
Stan joins his FBI boys, and Agent John-Boy decides that this moment, when everybody's wearing Cosby sweaters and eating cold-cut sandwiches, is the time to start planning an extra-judicial retaliation on the Russians, in exchange for last week's house bombing. This is news to Stan, who doesn't seem all that receptive to it, actually. The target? Arkady, the acting KGB Rezident. Agent John-Boy is defiant that they have to go big on their retaliation. The plan is to swipe Arkady during his daily noontime jog. Being that this isn't strictly legal, Agent John-Boy stresses that participation is voluntary. Agent Chris is the first one to sign up, but Stan actually says to count him out. My guess is that his time spent with the white supremacists was enough straddling of the legal line for one lifetime. Agent John-Boy gets it, but Chris looks surprised and maybe betrayed.
Elsewhere, Matthew joins Paige on the stairs, where they can no doubt discuss how awful it must be to have to spend part of your precious teenage weekend at a party with your parents' friends. Paige tells him all about her parents' BS "hitting the pause button" plan and then looks warily at her dad in the kitchen.
Philip awkwardly crosses paths with Chris in said kitchen, but they don't really interact. Tough to blame Philip for that, given Chris's sweater-over-turtleneck look. Chris then expresses his surprise to Stan about his moral reservations. He says he understands -- "your shoes squeak." Which is an old metaphor and a somewhat tortured way to allow Chris to counter that he is "fully lubricated" himself. Since the mission statement these days is to have Chris be as disgusting as possible, he looks over at Elizabeth speaking to Sandra in the hallway and asks Stan about the "fox" talking to his wife. When he learns it's Stan's neighbor, he leers and suggests Stan "go borrow a cup of sugar some time." Ugh, he's just gross in the most boring of ways. I hope he does somehow.
Over in the hallway, Sandra confides in Elizabeth that she saw Philip leaving the house the other night. "I wasn't spying or anything!" she insists, giving us our Moment of Cheap Irony a little early this week. Elizabeth is forced to admit that she and Philip are separated. Sandra expresses her genuine sympathy and offers her help if Elizabeth ever needs it. On a lesser show, Sandra would be a deep-cover KGB agent keeping tabs on Directorate S assets. Sometimes I wish this were a lesser show.
Meanwhile, Paige and Henry corner Philip and openly beg him to come home. He tells them he can't and that he has to go. He does not add, "I have to go throw on my wig and glasses and bang my secret dowdy secretary girlfriend from behind in one of the least sexy sexual encounters ever aired on cable television," but he could have. So yeah, we're at Martha's apartment now, and Philip is losing himself in her nether regions. Specifically, he's pounding her from behind in a metronomic fashion, while she squeals, "SHOOT YOURSELF INTO ME, CLARK!" I know I'll never be the same, I don't know about you. Afterwards, Clark says he has to go to deal with the whole three dead agents thing, but Martha has one thing to say first: she tells him she's in love with him (she's also in love with his doggy style, but that's a matter for another conversation). "I've waited my whole life for you," she says, "and I would do anything for you." She just needs to know one thing: "Is this real?" Oh, this poor pathetic creature. Philip doesn't hesitate to say that yes, it is. She then begs him to spend the night with her, if only this once. And honestly? If it's between this or a cruddy motel, I kind of get why "Clark" decides to stay.
The morning, Elizabeth is running through the morning routine, more frazzled than usual because she's doing this solo. Paige, more docile than I'd give her credit for, asks her mom what she's supposed to tell her friends. Elizabeth, of course, doesn't understand why you would tell your friends at all. Why not, instead, just maintain a stony silence until everyone in your life recognizes your superior strength and stoicism and consequently abandons all hope of knowing you beyond what small parts of you that you've decided to make available to them, entirely on your own terms? She finally tells Paige to tell them that her parents are not, at present, living together. She then resumes making perfectly circular pancakes.
Speaking of breakfast, Martha brings Clark breakfast in bed, though it's just half a grapefruit and (probably dry) white toast, because Martha is seriously the worst. She moons over Clark (who managed to sleep the whole night without his wig going askew) and tells him it's been a long time since she's had a man sleep in her bed. She's got to run to work, though, since things have been very hectic. She ends up spilling that Special Agent John-Boy has been taking a lot of secret meetings with his old CIA cronies. "He thinks I don't notice," she says, defensively, "but I'm a secretary, not a potted plant." She knows they're planning to kill a KGB agent. Clark perks right up at this, of course, and mere seconds after Martha is out of the house, he springs up and prepares to leave.
Outside, Philip hustles to his car (still in Clark drag, of course) so he can sound the alarm about the assassination plot, but just as he's getting in his car, he's accosted by Agent Chris, who flashes a badge at him. It's not clear whether Chris actually suspects him of anything or if he's just trying to hassle the boyfriend of the girl at the office he wants but can't have. That ambiguity is good for the show, if not for Agent Chris's likeability. Clark starts out being conciliatory, calling Chris "my friend," but Chris makes it explicit that he's not his friend. At which point, Philip really has places to be, so he's like, "Yep. Caught me. Martha and I have been banging each other into ecstatic oblivion for ten hours." His words. "Banging Each Other Into Ecstatic Oblivion: The Clark and Martha Story." Anyway, Chris is feeling really high on his own power and tells Clark he's taking him in for questioning. That's reeeeally not going to do, if only on the level that at some point, Clark's obvious disguise will reveal itself to be just that. So, backup against the wall, what can Philip do but karate-kick Chris in the chest? Winded, Chris pulls his gun out, but Philip kicks it away, and the two men brawl. Then Chris produces his switchblade because hey, who doesn't need to carry a switchblade around the mean hallways of Arlington? He lunges at Philip with it, but Philip, in case you'd forgotten, is pretty great at the hand-to-hand stuff, and he directs Chris's knife right into his own gut. So how Philip's stabbed a federal agent, which presents a whole new set of problems. So he stuffs Chris in the trunk of his car and moves on to Phase Holy Crap of today's agenda.
After the break, we see that Philip has set Chris up in comfortable but Spartan conditions at a local abandoned basement of some sort. He's still dressed as Clark, of course, and after a full day in that wig, it's got to be itchy as hell, don't you think? Elizabeth joins him as backup and ... you guys. I can't. I CANNOT with Elizabeth's disguise for this one. Every disguise that I've mocked this season is officially off the hook because right now, Elizabeth Jennings has showed up in a Peter Tork wig and giant round glasses. She looks like Mr. Burns disguised as Wavy Gravy. She immediately recognizes Chris, and Philip's like, "Yeah, from Stan's party." So they know they're in deep shit. He admits this may well be a total cock-up, a "jealous suitor" situation that blew up way past the point of no return. But the more important thing is what Philip learned from Martha about the potential assassination plot. Elizabeth immediately decides that they need Chris to tell them what he knows about it. She brought morphine (my kinda gal) and they begin to strategize how they can keep Chris -- who's looking mighty ashen at the moment -- alive long enough to tell them what he knows. He's still got the knife sticking out of his gut, which is not a great sign, and he's shivering, which: ditto.
At the FBI, one of Stan's fellow agents asks him where Chris is, and Stan says he doesn't know. He was supposed to meet him an hour ago, and he never showed, which isn't like him. Stan starts to get concerned and calls Chris's house. He just gets the machine ("If I'm not here, I'm out having a ball..."). Well, now he's even more concerned.
Back at the warehouse, Philip Clark and Hey Hey It's The Monkees are trying to deal with Chris's knife wound. Philip yanks the knife out and he starts bleeding pretty badly. Chris starts screaming and crying at this, and the Jenningses have to lift him up and wrap a bandage around him, which probably does not help matters. Elizabeth is very kind, speaking softly to Chris about how the hard part is over. Which must be very confusing for Chris as to why 1970s Jon Voight is being s nice to him.
Elsewhere, Stan gets Chris's landlord to let him into Chris's apartment, but he's obviously nowhere to be found. Contrary to what you might expect, there are no manacles on the walls, nor shag carpeting, nor lotions or oils on any of the end tables. He checks the answering machine, but there are only messages from various D.C.-area single ladies, plus the message he left earlier. Nothing incriminating. Outside, he sees Chris's car (Philip drove it back) and looks incredibly suspicious.
Back at the office, Martha eavesdrops from her desk as Stan makes his case to Special Agent John-Boy that he thinks something bad has happened to Chris. For one thing, his car doesn't have any fingerprints on it, making it incredibly unlikely that Chris wiped his own prints off his car. Agent John-Boy says they don't know that the KGB has him. Stan says he does. John-Boy says he has every available agent out looking for him, but let's not jump to conclusions. He still thinks there's a decent chance that Chris was just out whoring around.
Warehouse. Groovy Elizabeth has to leave and pick up the kids (yeah, don't let THAT fall by the wayside again). Philip is going to stay behind and tend to the patient. Their long-term plans seem to be a bit murky. Wait for him to give them the intel about the assassination and then ... ?
FBI. Stan sits at his desk and reminisces about his good buddy Chris. This would have been a conversation not long after they first met, when they were still getting to know each other. Chris is typically braggy -- typical for these last few episodes, at least -- telling Stan, "My work is my life, and my life is my art." He stresses that he has no family, no hobbies, no distractions, "...except for pussy." Oh, right! Chris likes pussy! I'd nearly forgotten. What a hilarious direction they've taken with this character, taking an open (if vague) character and making him nothing but a poon hound. Stan just kind of laughs at him, indulges this kind of talk, and flatters him by calling him "el lobo." Yes, Chris is a lone wolf. A lone wolf on a pussy hunt. He's the grossest.
After the break, while Philip holds a vigil for Agent Chris, Elizabeth returns home with preparations for home-made Chinese food. Paige sasses her, rolling her eyes at this brand new Mom, who divorces Dad and makes Chinese food for the first time ever. She says she's not interested in her mom starting her life over again. Elizabeth, admirably not giving in to the emotional manipulation, says, "So that's what you don't want. What do you want?" Paige just wants things to be the way they were. This thaws Elizabeth some. She knows things are hard now, but it's for the best. Paige: "For who?" Sorry, I should probably be more sympathetic to Paige, but I'm still mad at her for that dumbass hitchhiker episode. Anyway, the phone rings, and it turns out to be Henry's teacher at school. Cut to Elizabeth gingerly approaching her son upstairs. He's playing with a Rubix cube (PERIOD DETAIL) and looking glum. She tells him that his teacher just called and asks if he wants to tell her something. He won't even look at her, much less talk to her. She speaks softly to him, telling him about her own parents and how horrified she'd have been if they even approached separation. But these are different times. She takes his hands and asks about his Social Studies project. He tries to claim that he did it, but when she asks to see it, it turns out to be just one sentence on the subject of The Revolutionary War: "America Won." Points for accuracy?
Stan meets with Nina in his car, rather than in their love nest, so you know he means business. She moves in to kiss him, but he is NOT having it. She thinks it's strange but still plows ahead with business. She tells Stan that the KGB wants to know how the Americans are planning to retaliate against the Soviets for the apartment bombing. Stan still stonewalls and finally asks her, "Who put the finger on Amador?" Man, if only Agent Chris were here to turn that question into disgusting sexual innuendo. She doesn't even know who he's talking about. He grabs her arm and demands she tell him, but obviously she doesn't know. I guess this moment should neither be surprising nor especially repulsive, considering the line of worth they're both in, but I have never not being completely grossed out by a Noah Emmerich character's behavior, so I kind of think Stan should be nut-punched repeatedly for assaulting Nina like this. He orders her to find out who took Chris and where he is and to do it now. She's too frightened of him to even make a smart comment. She just exits the car, leaving Stan to feel conflicted.
Warehouse. Chris wakes up and is lucid. He asks Philip for water, and Philip obliges. Chris isn't thrashing around or trying to escape or anything. He's gray as hell and feels cold, so he may well be too weak and blood-deprived to try anything at all. Philip kindly obliges him with a blanket as well, but he's after information, and his face goes stone-cold when he demands to know the target of the assassination. Chris says he doesn't know, but Philip doesn't believe him. This is basically the one instance where someone professing ignorance about a plot is lying, so good for Philip for being right. But trying to get a man who knows he's dying to give up his friends on his death bed is not the easiest task, so good luck.
Special Agent John-Boy has gathered his team of FBI rogues together with some select CIA pals at a nearby park to run through the retaliation plan. And Stan has decided to join them! Look who got radicalized. Miss Kendall from the CIA runs through the steps: Arkady will be leaving for his daily run in just an hour. They're going to intercept him, using a system of signals to tell each other when (and if) to grab him. Agent John-Boy makes it crystal clear that the decision to grab Arkady will be cleared by either John-Boy or Kendall. Agent John-Boy then speaks to Stan privately, telling him he's glad he's onboard. He says they're still looking for Chris. Stan expresses his concern that if they kill Arkady, the KGB will kill Chris. John-Boy thinks a more proximate concern is that if Chris is being questioned, he knows the identity of Nina as the FBI's mole. If he talks, she's dead.
Warehouse. Elizabeth, having just arrived on the Last Train to Clarksville, updates her husband on family life; i.e. their daughter hates her with a pure fury. Meanwhile, he tells Elizabeth that Chris has kept mum. She's worried that his people will be looking for him -- they need to get their information and get rid of him NOW. She decides it's her turn to start asking the questions. That sounds promising!
At the Soviet embassy, one of Arkady's underlings comes into his office, all decked out in running gear. Unfortunately, Arkady is not. He raises a bandaged hand and explains that he burned it while handling a microwaved potato. Burned it so bad that doctors are considering a skin graft, apparently. That ... seems really bad. Not just "sit at my desk and look annoyed that I can't go running" bad.
Back at the warehouse, Elizabeth is trying the sweet-faced approach to getting Chris to talk. And you really know he must be a horndog because he hits on Elizabeth while she's wearing this ridiculous getup. At first, it seems like when he says he remembers her, he's talking about Stan's party. But no, it's just a line, as he spins a tale of them meeting at a bar and screwing their brains out. Elizabeth smiles at this, indulging him. But when he tells her that he honestly has no idea about any hit, she says they both know he's lying. Chris gets harder, then, pledging that while they may torture and kill him, he'll never talk, and his country is going to kick her Motherland's "marbled ass." That actually sounds like a compliment, as far as asses go.
At the park, Stan sits in the weeds with another agent, waiting to spot Arkady running by. But when the time comes, it's only his underling. The signalman drops his newspaper in the trash, which should be Stan's sign to abort the mission. But Stan thinks this is their last chance to get Chris back, so he instead defies the orders and tells his men on the jogging path to grab this underling by himself. They do, and now Stan's running this thing like a lone wolf himself.
After the break, Agent John-Boy chews Stan out for defying orders, but he's bloodthirsty enough to not be too mad. They've got this poor Soviet kid tied to a chair in Stan's safe house. The other FBI agents leave Stan alone to interrogate the guy. What follows is a scene that wants to be Breaking Bad so much that I almost feel sorry for it. Stan breaks into this long, extended metaphor about duck hunting and dogs and soft palettes. I really don't need to give you the particulars of it, only to tell you that Noah Emmerich is no Bryan Cranston. The whole point is just to let Stan intimidate this guy and deliver the message that, while they've got him captive, they can easily let him go if he gives the information they want. Of course, he has no idea about Chris Amador in the slightest. Neither does Arkady, for that matter. This kid even denies that he's KGB at all, which I guess is the old stonewall tactic. Anyway, he's crying and sad and Stan won't shut up about dropping him at his master's feet or some such "I am the one who knocks"-wannabe nonsense.
Warehouse. Philip is refusing Chris's requests for morphine until he tells them what they want to know. Chris finally asks what time it is, and when he learns it's after 5, he says the target is Arkady. As Elizabeth scrambles to get the information out, Chris smugly says that it's too late -- he's already dead. One last victory for the bloodless man, I guess.
Elsewhere, Stan calls the Soviet embassy from a pay phone. He demands to speak to the Rezident about poor Vladimir, his prisoner. When he gets Arkady on the phone, Arkady assures him that Vladimir is nobody and knows nothing. Stan's like, "Very possibly, but that's not how this works." Hilariously, Stan just goes, "Amador. Release him." Like that's supposed to mean anything at all. Chris is just as much anybody as poor Vlad, only even more so, since Arkady honestly doesn't have the first clue who this doof on the phone is talking about. I like the idea dancing around Stan's head that the KGB has an entire war room devoted to the abduction and imprisonment of dumb old horny Chris Amador. Arkady jots the name down anyway, likely to follow up with Directorate S (and thus get Philip and Elizabeth into trouble). Stan bellows some idle threats about sending Arkady Vlad's balls on a necklace. Impotent rage is actually really fun to watch when it's coming from someone you don't like. Rage on, you big doofus.
Back at the embassy, Arkady hands the slip of paper with Amador's name on it to Nina and tells her to find out whether they have this FBI guy. Interesting. Meanwhile, he gets a call from an anonymous woman (Elizabeth), who simply confirms that she's speaking to him and then hangs up. So Chris was wrong. Arkady is alive. Back at the warehouse, Elizabeth relays this to Philip and also says that Grannie told her that the real target turned out to be this poor first-year Vladimir. Elizabeth and Philip wonder why Chris lied, at which point it becomes clear to us that no one bothered to connect the dots of Arkady having planned to go running with Vladimir in the park, even knowing that this FBI agent fingered Arkady as the real target. That is ... really dumb. So Philip and Elizabeth are like, "He must know something else!" Elizabeth pulls out her gun and declares her intention to get Chris to "talk" no matter what. Philip takes the gun and says he'll do it. It's his mess. He says he never wanted this to get this bad. He wouldn't let a dog suffer like this, much less a human. Elizabeth knows what he means and tells him that once he gets the intel they need, just give him the morphine and let him drift off. By the time Philip gets to Chris, however, that drifting-off process has already taken place. R.I.P. Agent Chris. You were a real creep.
That night, Stan is called in to the crime scene where he finds his partner dead in a parking lot. Special Agent John-Boy assures Stan that avenging Chris will now be their top priority. He says they probably don't have the time to exfiltrate Nina, but Stan is certain that Chris didn't give her up. John-Boy says there's no shame in it -- it's biology to talk when you're life is at risk. But Stan says he'd risk Nina's life and his own on his belief that Chris didn't talk.
Later, Stan gets fast-food and reminisces some more about Good Times With Chris. They talk about 'Nam, about seizing the day, about how Chris told him once that "Shame is worth than dying." This is, I guess, how Stan knows Chris wouldn't ever talk. Then they start talking about how pussy is a metaphor for freedom or something. I think an evening out with Stan Beeman and Chris Amador would be my actual worst nightmare.
Later, Stan returns to the safe house with leftover fast food for poor Vlad. After some more talk about soft mouths and duck hunting and threats upon soft-spoken threats. The good(ish)-cop routine works (plus, you know, all the waiting and being scared), because Vlad finally breaks down and admits he's KGB. Stan has no use for him anymore. Nothing will save Chris now. Of course, Stan isn't going to let that one go by unforgiven. So he crosses the room, past Vlad's chair, and then turns around and shoots him in the back of the head. Because in 2013 ... Stan Beeman ... is ... Breaking Bad.
Joe R thinks that this show should not be in the business of making viewers think of better shows. He can be reached for lavish praise and nothing but at joseph.reid21@gmail.com.