Hello everyone. So Royal Mail are clearing the postal backlog in a nicely symmetrical but somewhat counter-intuitive way where the earliest post gets left until last. Luckily, that doesn't affect me any more, (except for the three week old gas bill, which I know nothing about), as this morning Hellbound landed on my front doormat. Actually, I don't have a doormat, and it wouldn't have fit through the letterbox. Am I making any progress at all here?

One thing which the whole little postponement did do was make me doubt a little bit. Not in a soul-searching, maniac-bound-forever-in-Minority-Report-box way, but just your usual stuff. And I think doubt is a key to this episode. It's certainly an important part in how I personally view Angel as a show in its fifth Season, and indeed how I view my life.

Oddly enough, the people and actions I find hardest to understand in my life are rarely the ones most different from mine. I don't believe I have a problem understanding or rationalising others' decisions based on their motives, opinions and so forth. What I find most alienating in people- what scares me sometimes, is an apparent complete lack of doubt.

As an atheist leaning agnostic, I live, when at my two family homes, in two wildly different spiritual atmospheres [not hankering for that phrase again any time soon]. One family are Christian, the other atheist. It's an interesting existence ping-ponging between the two. And I have a great deal respect for certain aspects of each of their beliefs. Their explanations, the stories they commit to the page of their life by actions. The person I have recently spoken to about belief most openly is Christian, whereas I'm virtually atheist. The thing we have in common, the thread which connects us while others stay further apart, is our doubt. The ability to question belief, to shore it up one way or another. Any belief worthy of a tome as beautiful as the Bible, the Koran or the Bhagavadgita must require not only faith, (though that may ultimately be the centre), but some kind of rational interpretation. Questions need to be asked and answered. And I personally belief that doubts have to be had. They can make belief stronger. The one-minded, never questioning believer is liable, at one painful harsh moment, to have the whole pack of cards fall on top of her. Similarly, the person who, devoutly atheist, never even considers faith- may end up in such superstitious desperation that he feels very insecure.

Sometimes, I think, the the appearance of certainty can mask very real doubts. I know two people, one of whom is familiar with the Bible and actually co-ordinates RE for a school, the other is unfamiliar with the Bible. Both are atheists. The less knowledgable one almost forbids mention of Christianity in the house, while the other is prone to long discussions. I believe the latter to be the more honestly atheist, more truthful about doubt, and searching, while the former, underneath may hone a fear of Truth- this being Truth with a capital T.

Of course, the ultimate logical extension of lack of doubt is fearsome- the terrorist so sure of Allah's reward for a display of solidarity against infidels that he flies an aeroplane meaninglessly, for him with ultimate Meaning, into a tower. Conversely, we have states so desperate to make one leader a religion in itself, that they sacrifice belief and persecute anyone who attempts to practice it. These aren't the shadows of self-doubt, but something larger, a monumental conspiracy that proves my argument only by dismissing individual and leaping straight to societal. That's not as simple as a lack of self-doubt.

But in the people we meet every day, in relationships, in beliefs, in education, are the more productive, the happier, the most self-honest people the people who have laminated their worldview and have copies for passing commuters, or those who are always searching, made to doubt assumptions and prejudices, changing their opinions not only as the facts change, but as they encounter humanity.

That's one message I've got from reading some Proust. I think it needs refining. Maybe as a person prone to doubt myself, I find it consoling to have my apparent weakness taken as a creed in itself- undermining at a pinch all the original argument. But it does kind of fit, in the haphazard, dynamic way the world spins- multiple epiphanies, contradictory realisations, shifting perspectives. If we never doubt that our life is not perfect, how are we to improve it.

5.4- 'Hellbound'

Oh, so, yes Angel. Quick, link it in. Well, I think that Spike's journey in this episode- as manwitch mentioned, a clear reflection of Angel's in this Season, is all about the value of doubt. At the end of the episode, we're left with Angel, with conviction, (doubt's opposite fascinatingly), but no mercy, locking Pavayne away, and introducing him to Hell. That's not the way of it. In meanwhile, Spike, never quite sure what to do, how to react, eventually is left with a two-pronged fork, either to skewer himself or others, and through a snap decision based on examination rather than blind conviction, makes the self-sacrificial action rather than the self-enhancing. This isn't a parallel, I don't think, it's a contrast. Although interestingly, and with the kind of parallelic twistiness one might expect from Steve DeKnight, we get Angel compared to Spike, and Spike to Pavayne, and then Angel contrasting to Pavayne at the end.

Fred is one of three unneglected characters so far this season. Gunn has been peripheral, Lorne indifferent, Wesley underused [5.7 coming soon!], Harmony criminally underused. Fred's been very interesting in her relationship with Spike, and the reflections she casts on others. One element of Hellbound which adds just a touch of extra resonance to Edlund's follow-up is the accusation that Fred should sleep more. She's being productive to the point of never stopping, just like Lorne, and hence Angel. And in being over-productive, she hasn't half spent a lot of money- a gentle nod to the oft-uncommented-on whizziness that Science Departments seem to have in television and film.

Here, to pick up my Big Red Anvil for a little while longer, Fred is the one with doubt, the person who is attempting to save Spike, not knowing whether it is possible, not quite sure of its effects or the cost. Angel has decided straight down the line, in one of the best moments of the episode that Some people can't be saved Goodness me, Connor central once again. He has to believe this, he has to belive that he couldn't have rehabilitated Connor, and Spike, the well-used outline of this argument in this Season, has proved the point. In Just Rewards, Angel's all too happy to kill Spike when he asks for it to happen, to repeat his deed with Connor but this time with Spike's affirmation. Here, Spike is again the pale shadow that isn't worth bothering with, the person who is too far gone to be brought back. In order to portray this assured, utterly certain attitude, Angel inside has demanded of himself that he become cynical. He's cut off from his mission, he is becoming disconnected from his staff (a resolution to which comes in 5.6), and he's desperate to divorce himself from all Connor and Cordelia references. It won't succeed for ever, while the guilt hangs still over his mind like a pall. While he acts with self-assuredness, doubt is nibbling away, eroding the wrong things rather than being made to question the right.

For Fred, more open-minded about Spike, the question is still about the ability to do good, or even Good. It's what Fred came here to do, and this bleach-blond saviour still has a chance of redemption, though currently slipping towards hell. There are several references to her big brain, the most visual being the very deliberate and double intended pretty scene where she writes on the shiny windows. A Pylea reference yes, but also a reference to A Beautiful Mind. At the moments where encouragement from Spike seem appropriate, she can't hear him at all, lost in self-reflection about how to go about re-corporealisation. Eventually, she fails what she thought she was trying to achieve, but the outcome is better. Chalk one up for changing attitude with circumstances and knowledge.

Gunn has a few (too few) little moments in this episode. He undercuts Wesley nicely, (the volcano line coupling with Fred's line about Hell as a pair of quirky little misdirects. And later, we get the panther, and Gunn talking about whether Angel was listening rightly. I got from this a refraction back to Cordelia as Vision Girl- the one who saw and whom Angel relied on. Maybe it's all just grist to my psychotic Mind Wipe is Crucial propaganda, but in any case, Gunn is important to Angel, and he mustn't forget it.

If Fear and doubt are the themes of this episode, what confirmation do we have? An obvious one. Steven DeKnight, the henchman of Whedon on more than one occasion, is drafted in here to spread the same brooding darkness that all of Blood Ties, Dead Things, Seeing Red, and Deep Down have had. And he decides to do it partly by filmic references. I'm don't know much about horror films, but I think three things are fairly obvious. We have the shower scene with Fred, the obligatory Psycho reference. We have an extremely The Exorcist type shot where the blood spurts over the executives at their table (projectile vomit possibly out of bounds on network television). And we have Pavayne, who, causing horror using the ghosts of other people, is a polyhuman, with those darkened eyes giving a definite feeling of Frankenstein's monster. Here the sociopathy is stronger though, because the motivation is entirely his own.

And so to the main two characters. They start, explicitly and literally, together, in a long scene which got the Angel-Spike chemistry crackling better than anything so far this Season, we get Angel and Spike as brothers, competing, but ultimately in the same home, coming from the same family background, and sharing the same outcome to their lives even if taken through a very different course. Angel is of course certain, like he is throughout the episode, that he's going to Hell. And he even manages to convince, for the moment, the Trickster Spike, the being who always tries to jump out of destiny. This is Angel's scene, and this episode is Angel's dilemma told through Spike. This is emphasised by some more excellent direction by DeKnight, where we have, for several shots, Angel dominating the foredground of the frame, with Spike crammed, as if into his fate, into the small portion at the top left of the screen. And at the end we get a re-affirmation, ephemeral and missable of the two's knowledge that they are, at least for now, colleagues rather than enemies. The line about Spike's poetry by Angel is funny, and considerably more truthful (because embarassed, almost unsure) than most of his other attitudes here. Spike, ever hunting the snark, comes back with Manilow. [Which incidentally reminds me, could someone please tell Westlife to stop singing the cover of 'Mandy'? It's confusing me hugely].

And so to Spike. From the teaser we know that he's feeling powerless. As if he can't be handy. A gruesomely literal rendering of which is the severed fingers. Shortly afterwards we get the hallucinations, where Spike is not sure what to believe- whether these people are ghosts, demons or just possibly something his over-taxed mind has constructed. And shortly afterwards, another telling parallel of Angel, the lift compels Spike downwards. This is a need rendering of 'Reprise'. We are right to be very unconvinced that Spike is in Hell, or indeed that the dimension where he finds himself with Pavayne is any different from real life. The Home Office, indeed.

The whole of Pavayne's monologue, sewing worry and resignation, is a little overwrought. To hit back on my repetitive theme, it is not self-doubt that Pavayne is trying to instil, but resignation, certainty of failure, of submittal to his power. And finally, Spike picks up something that Pavayne didn't mean to let slip. That reality bends to desire. That, if you search, if you identify what you want, what you need, you can start to regain power. In doubting Pavayne, Spike is on the road to saving himself. Back comes the duster, he resumes a role he is not wholly living, but for now inhabiting. The warrior. No longer is he the dazed, confused little ant scurrying from the flame, he's building the bonfire himself, with the help of his fellow ants- Fred, Wesley and Gunn.

In the end, Spike chooses to remain in limbo. He's discovered that the fear of Hell is to be balanced with the life gong on around him, rather than to be the reigning theme. He's going on living in a state of leashed-ness, his perpetual state, because it's in that cauldron of mixing influences that he can continue to change, with the dynamism that has always been a crucial part of his character. And meanwhile, he has made the best decision- to release the suffering from Hell, and to keep Pavayne well away from other spirits trying to establish truth from their own doubt.

Finally, Pavayne lies in what is, to all intents and purposes a forgotten coma. The same coma that Angel has left Cordelia in. Another suggestion to me that his path in this episode is significantly scrambled, and he must at all costs attempt to learn from those around him. Of course, all of this strengthens Jeffrey Bell's brilliant 5.6, but this episode is no slouch either- an interesting meditation Spike and Angel, and one which definitely shows the great potential of the parallel. All we need now is a little bit more of the under-used.

I'm not quite sure whether this isn't a rather radical reading of the text- that doubt is good and conviction can be dangerous, at least when based on false beliefs. But of course, my doubt in itself merely justifies the point of view, which makes me feel a little smug. Go ahead then, do your worst. And thanks for reading.

TCH