Need to warn you brave readers of a couple of things here:
1) The three writers listed only covers 'The Trial'. Wow, there's a lot of culture-y goodness in these episodes.
2) I think I've got some of the 'Gah!' 'Wow!' 'NO!!!' 'YES!!!' 'Aaah!' 'HELP!!' s out of my system, but there's always room for a relapse
3) This particular run of three episodes is, in my opinion, as good a run as anything written by Mutant Enemy ever. Ever. I've been desperately trying to contradict myself. Almost had myself fooled with 'The Body', 'Forever' and 'Intervention', but not quite. Buffy superioristas, I am officially defecting. This programme has the same quality.

OK, so that's cleared up. Calm, calm. Here goes.

2.9 The Trial

In the long summer after my GCSEs, aged 16, I read around about 20 books in my summer vacation. All the three then-released Harry Potter books. All Jane Austen. Some silly Stephen Fry. The Grapes of Wrath. The Odyssey. Other stuff I forget for the moment. The book which took the most out of me was Franz Kafka's 'The Trial'. It's a horrible bureaucratic, claustrophobic nightmare. It's about feeling that you are guilty just for living. It's partly about living in the nightmare of the crumbling Austro-Hungarian empire, but mostly about just how hard it is to live, and how sometimes filling in forms and trying to do things by the book is just darned confusing and agonising. While watching this episode, I almost came to the conclusion that the episode title was a co-incidence. Then I remembered I was watching Angel, so it can't be. Ultimately, the only thing I could find which links together Kafka's phantasmagoric dystopia and 'The Trial' is the sense of the arbitrary nature of the tasks, and the senselessness of the 'rules'. How come they can't restore Darla's life for a second time? No real reason; but that's the pain of life sometimes. It's not callous, it's not benevolent- it's just indifferent.

This is perfectly portrayed by having the English butler as the guide for the trials. Not because the English are indifferent and insensitive, I hasten to add, (hmmm), but because he is a perfect example of a literary archetype who is most interested in things being correct; traditional; in order. I realised it was a PG Wodehouse rip-off, and then was a touch diappointed when Angel actually called him Jeeves, because, hey, I prefer it when things are only implied. But there was a great truth in Jeeves being there, which made the surreality of the whole concept work. Now someone has to decide whether Angel or Darla is Bertie Wooster...

And also in The Trial there's that echo that reverberates, and that some geniuses on this board have related to Yeats' gyre. This isn't the first time in this Season of Angel we've heard, 'Things fall apart', [although I forgot to note it last time,] but it is repeated several more times, (most memorably in the wonderful Willow/Tara scene in 'Entropy'). Angel Season Two and Buffy Season Six share a theme in this sense. On a very simple level, it's about what happens when things go wrong; when things break down. This season is all about how relationships painstakingly forged, (the whole premise of Season One), can be nastily torn down by circumstances and by historical, threatening loves. An uncomfortable story, but an extremely brave one to tell on US network TV. Of course, at the end of Season Six, there's the Buffy/Giles scene, and Xander's mouth, and everything sorts itself out somewhat tidily. Because it's Buffy. Angel is such an unknown adventure for me, that anything could happen. It's not a foregone conclusion. That concludes the extremely long-winded literary references section. Other things:

-Doug Petrie is Master of the Dramatic Act Break. I remember noticing this while watching 'As You Were'. You may hate the episode, but if you're unspoiled, there's Riley turning up, Riley being married and Spike being the Doctor, all on act breaks. Here the act breaks are Darla revealing she is dying ('Gah!!'), the valet telling Angel that Darla will die if he fails ('Huh?') and Angel being told that the third task is for him to die, ('What? NO!!!'). At least some of these are definite Petrie-isms.

-'You were just soulless bloodsucking villains. They're lawyers'. One of the truisms of the season.

- The end, where had I been standing up I would have fallen over and bumped my head on various sharp objects. Wow. The whole theme of the episode is about becoming philosophical about death. Death needs to become an extension of life to some of our characters. We have Angel, who is ready to sacrifice himself for Darla. It is tempting to claim this is an act of supreme good and altruism. I think this is a false assertion. Angel knows full well that by saving Darla, he is saving one soul who arguably has forfeited her right to live. By saving himself, he is in turn allowing countless other people to live by saving them. This is about more than simple goodness, but an epic Shakesperian or Lean-ian love, stetched so that centuries feel like years. Angel realises that Darla, with her beating heart, is close to having what he desperately wants- what he considers a normal, human life. And he's willing to sacrifice himself for that. Because he still loves Darla. Understatedly, and arguably incorrectly, the valet (a little like Stevens in 'The Remains of The Day') comments quietly 'You played the game magnificently'.

Then we get the scene which becomes the end of the episode. An episode where I was expecting a rather beautiful, quiet ending. Darla has learnt from Angel that it is possible to reconcile oneself to death. It's not really a logical thing. She's not thinking: 'I've had 400 years', or 'I was dying from syphillis as punishment- now my punishment is complete'. It's a meditative thing, a personal thing, and a deep thing. This is the victory that Angel has one. He hasn't saved Darla's life. But, in a way, he has cured her. There are strong references to Buffy's 'Lie To Me' in this episode, and Billy Fordham. Billy wants to become a vampire to stop dying. With Angel's help, Darla has gone through this.

And then, like very politely ripping my heart out, comes the actual ending. Juliet Landau, uncredited at the beginning, is magnetic. She floats rather like The Gentlemen in 'Hush'. She is absolutely incredible, and what she represents even more so. Angel is apparently succeeding in saving another soul. After so much heartache. After constant knockbacks, like the end of 'Darla'. But he's still haunted and undermined by his past. There is absolutely nothing he can do in the present day about stopping Drusilla. But it is his fault. Because he sired Drusilla. All his best intentions with Darla are not good enough, even after 100 years of supposed pennance. Drusilla is Angel's sin. Angel has still not atoned.

Possibly my favourite ending on either show. Possibly the best Angel episode ever. Certainly a 10/10.

2.10 Reunion

Although I seemed to manage to work in about 20 allusions in the above review, the real quality of that and this episode is their pretty much straight ahead plotting. It just says- look, we have good characters, and oodles of narrative tension. Watch us play. And don't they do it well?

If I had one complaint about these two episodes, it might be that they are a little too maniacally focussing on the Darla arc. There's not a lot of breathing space. But this is pretty much commented on in the show itself. How long has it been since we saw Cordelia have a vision? Around about six episodes, which considering they were one of the most important pieces in the narrative structure jigsaw during the first season, is a long time. In order to counteract any complaints about this, Tim Minear, (or Shawn Ryan, frankly who cares?), puts in a vision at the apparently most inappropriate moment of the narrative- just as the tension about Drusilla and Darla is ratchetting up past breaking point. Of course, the writers also use it to fantastic effect. It shows a little more baldly how Angel is more interested in Darla's problems than in saving a normal life, in being the Champion he is supposed to play. And hence it is a neat foreshadowing of the very final scene, as the Gang, (they're so much less of a gang than the Scooby Gang, but that's part of the fun), slowly fall apart; as inevitably as Yeats, the crazy psychic, imagined.

Talking of crazy psychics, [hey, do I deconstruct you segues?], Drusilla is brilliant in this episode. She's so threatening- for me even more so than in the other Season Two. There is, again, a reference to 'Lie To Me', where Drusilla re-intones the Joss lines 'Run and catch/Run and catch/ The lamb is caught in the blackberry patch'. There is also a reveal of a very clever bit of foreshadowing that I completely missed. In 'Darla', after Drusilla is told off for playfully calling Darla 'grandmother', she suggests 'I could be your mummy'. I thought it was a Dru-ish bit of roleplaying insanity. Of course it's not just that. Now Dru really is Darla's mummy.

Kate has an interesting part in this episode- although since they pretty much scrapped the anthology idea after Season One, she is being used more of a plot tool than the fascinating minor character I originally loved. The end has two more definite 'Gah!!' moments. Firstly, the absolutely chilling 'noir Angel' line 'And yet I just can't seem to care'. Of course, despite this rather stupidly being in the season promotion for Angel Season Two, it gains a huge amount more weight from both being in context, and also from being an echo of the Wilkinsian Holland Manners earlier in the episode. Interestingly, an episode too late, we find out that another character has reconciled himself to possible death- this being Lindsay. An oversite not to put this revelation into 'The Trial' I think. Anyway, this of course blurs the line. A lot hangs on just how much Dru's vamping of Darla hurt Angel. I think from how I attempted to explain it above, and the absolute fury he goes into at the start of this episode, that it was really, really deep. Angel sees himself as getting one back on cruel fate. And to direct it at the strangely inhuman Wolfram and Hart is the easiest way. Of course it's wrong, just like his back-turning on the residents of the Hyperion in 1952. It's worth noting that he still isn't directly responsible for a human death, although he clearly could have stopped many here. But it's a sin of omission. And while condemning the action of walking away, I think that the narrative is so brilliantly crafted that it is an entirely psychologically valid action for the character at this point.

Then there's the firing, which brings to a head that breaking up of hard-won 'families' that I've already mentioned.

Another groundshaking episode

2.11 Redefinition

I'm sure this one is often considered the least of the three, and I think I would argue rightly so. However, it does a startling job, and I really appreciate the ability of relative newcomer Mere Smith to make the tricky in-between periods of story telling, (she also wrote 'Untouched'), into thought-provoking, challenging scripts.

I thank Arethusa for pointing out the threefold violation going on in 'Untouched', and here the theme of the episode is, once again, right there in the title. And there are at least four separate cases of a person attempting to redefine themselves in this episode, all of which complement and contrast themselves well.

1) There's Lilah and Lindsay in Wolfram and Hart. They survived the 'massacre' in Holland's cellar purely out of their capacity to do evil, (Drusilla calls them 'good little children', further emphasising the Family idea which seems so important to her). They need to redefine themselves in Wolfram and Hart, and they do, partly with the help of the threatening President of Special Projects. It's a simple redefinition- one of a new job title and an increased importance.

2) There's Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn's redefinition. This was very important to me. I've been missing the interplay of the three, as the action concentrated wondefully but a little obsessively on one character. They break apart after Angel sacks them- from him and from each other. But when they meet up at the karaoke bar, they find themselves part of a group again with their own solace. That's why 'We Are The Champions' is a very funny, emotional and Buffy-esque moment for me. It's about staying together, and belief. But it's done with that slant on what you might do when you're desperate and drunk. Tidy. Oooh, and Lorne is actually a real lounge lizard. Took me a while to get that joke.

3) Darla is looking for redefinition with Dru. She's not The Mater's minion. She's not Angelus' lover. She's certainly not content being a bit-part player to Dru. So she contrives to take over LA. But is pushed back at least for a while.

4) And, most in focus to the episode itself, we have Angel, or at least the character that David Boreanaz is portraying, whoever that might be. Darla contends, 'It's not Angel. It's not Angelus'. This is a quite new person- dead set on a mission, fighting for his own ends not some abstract concept of good. 'Let them fight the Good Fight. Someone's gotta fight the war', he ends. The miltaristic music from Robert Kral is nicely done. The voiceover gives that suggestion of complete detachment from anything else. And Angel is now trying to become a good fighter, and a warrior able to detach himself from past emotions and their reflection on today. Just like Buffy's own struggle in her Season Two, Angel needs to be ready to kill Darla. But it's going to take a while. Will he eventually succeed? I predict two things, [NB Spec is no fun when everyone else can laugh at you, so I'm playing safe]

1) He won't win without more sacrifice. And
2) It's going to have to wait a while, because I have reached mid-Season, and now must again trade box sets with yabyumpan.

What a cliffhanger!! Wonderful stuff!! Thanks everyone for bearing with me while I tried to resist just writing gibberishes of delight. The Odyssey continues...