The cliffhanger as a rhetorical question

Right, I know it's all about cliffhangers, but there's not an awful lot one can say about an episode ending in 'I have waited almost thirty years for this'; 'Mom?' other than, "OK, show me the next episode then". These tactics aren't about right, aren't about wrong, they're about power. The power Abrams has as a narrator; his ability to get somebody to the edge of their seat and then leave them their for months. I have difficulty coping with this, and eventually construct a scenario whereby I read these non-endings at the end of the episodes themselves as rhetorical questions. Though we are to find out the answers to them in due course, for the moment it suffices to have the gap as a result of the question the cliffhanger asks as an artistic statement in itself. This may be readinf too much into what is ultimately just a cynical tactic by Ambrams, but it has to be done for me to consider in the mindset of reviewing in episodic form rather than just doing it all together.

Why do I go into such detail about a small element such as this? Because I want to make absolutely sure that no-one is left thinking that I wasn't irritated by the finale of 'Alias'. Deep down, I still find cliffhangers like that self-indulgent. But by feinting and jiggling a little, I can make the final few scenes of the twenty second episode work. When that happens, you're left with a masterful piece of television drama that approximates well to other beautiful television shows. At the end of the first Season, Alias still doesn't have the soul-baring humanity of 'Buffy', 'Angel', 'Six Feet Under', 'Deep Space Nine' or 'The Simpsons'. The creators have a tic of always going for the plot twist over the deeper emotional resonance. Yet caught up in this clockwork ingenuity, this work of Abrams, the work of an idiot savant, the work of Marshall designing spectacular techincal masterpieces for people whose agendas he can't really understand, comes the odd slice of debilitating truth, beauty or pathos. Not often. Sometimes I can go through a whole episode without caring, except in a 'Ooh, look, I just finished the wordsearch' type way. But every so often, the chasing and gunning and hiding and jetsetting is worth it for a moment where you find people talking to each other. The finale has five or six, a record for the series. The episode before has a couple which for me are even deeper. But first, let's go back another notch.

1.20- 'The Solution'

The finale arc really runs over these three episodes together, so while in the Hicks arc Will just gets to be a symbol of unobtainable normality on the periphery of Sydney's life, here he starts digging his way into the maze that will end up with his being tortured. Here he learns about SD-6, and sets up a meeting with Jack Bristow once the disembodied voice tells him that Syd's father was responsible for his earlier beating. All of this falls into the cogs whirring aspect of the show, setting up a storyline that kicks into full gear in the next episode.

Starting this storyline finally allows us to have Will's job linking directly into Sydney's story, rather than running adjacently as it has been doing all season. Meanwhile where our main focus is, things continue apace.

-"Hicks was a bad guy", asserts Vaughn, who is still playing Noah's exact shadow in this scene. While The Snowman offered Sydney a rainbow of hope once the storm had passed, Vaughn still symbolises commitment to duty, suggesting that because Hicks doubted the system, he must have been traitorous. It is an intelligent move, then, to have Vaughn's finale arc being all about not taking everything at face value and not having the job sold to you as the most important thing. For Vaughn, he must become more of a true believer before he starts to doubt healthily; must feel what the leash of the fundamentalist is before he strains to become human.

-"I am becoming what I despise", confesses Sydney. While she signed back into SD-6 only to prevent what happened to Danny from happening again, she has got so caught up in the space between the two grinding, bureaucratic systems, that she's starting to feel like mincemeat- robbed of the form that have her position an ultimate purpose and sanity. Things only get murkier from this point onwards.

-"Your family, friends, that's what matters" opines Emily Sloane [tell me when this style gets annoying!], providing reinforcement to the cliche that on your deathbed you never wish you had spent more time at work. Emily's thoughts are made to counterpoint the difficulty Sloane is having understanding where his family fits into his professional existence, but also to show Sydney that in an ideal world, Francie and Will should be first, not fourth, on her list of people to be honest to, (CIA, SD-6, her Father). But Syd is jack-knifed on the M25 with nowhere to head but towards the outside lane on this issue. It's not a case of reorganising her life around friends, and while she can't do that, it remains as impossible for her to reveal anything to Francie as it is for her to tell Sloane about her problems working with Vaughn. In a sense, Sydney's priorities naturally form a hierarchical structure; father, CIA, SD-6, friends. Each one knows a little less about her than the last, and each one must, for that very reason, be kept a shade more in the dark.

Francie never liked Noah, thinking him not good enough for Sydney. The irony is, after Sydney tries to tell Francie what happened honestly, (her relationship with him, her connection), Francie comes to precisely the opposite conclusion than Sydney does, that maybe Hicks is worth the bother after all. She neither knows Sydney's backstory nor her forwardstory, and therefore can't appreciate that Sydney's value judgement became a matter of life or death. It's a hard life being so unknowingly ignorant of your best friend's shadow life.

We play on Mrs Sloane's assertion as well in the scene where Sloane is visited by the security chief. Sloane is made to talk about Briault as a friend, despite the fact that he killed him in order to get to Khasinau. There are elements of the religious fanatic buried deep under the surface of Sloane's icy facade; that he's willing to give up his friends for the revelations shows a deeply warped, though strangely moving, (isn't this always the case with romantic idealism of concepts above people?), regard for the Truth that Rambaldi apparently hides behind all these layers of artifice.

-The main theme of the episode is clumsy and never ultimately used to its full potential. We start, bafflingly, on the story of Syd's house being over-run by rats. Are we supposed to think of the people Audrey Hepburn dismisses as 'rats' and 'super-rats' in 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' and wonder about Syd's own status? Apparently it's just a metaphor for people. We need to bypass the traps and go straight to the bait. So Sydney attempts to lure Khasinau out with the vial of liquid. And Will lures Jack out by dropping the name of SD-6. How this plays in a wider sense remains anyone's guess.

-And so we come to a triangular denouement, where SD-6, CIA (renegade) and K-directorate are all on the case in Algeria, and Sark, Vaughn and Dixon embody their qualities. Dixon appears to be about to shoot the wrapped up Sydney when we leave the story- and by this unconverted end of story, we're left with the ultimate message being that there is no simple 'Solution', this thing that the episode title carelessly preaches. Dixon, Sark and Vaughn are three aspects of Sydney herself, three aspects of her life that need regulating. If Vaughn and Dixon as metonyms are obvious, consider Sark as Sydney's need to better herself personally. This is the reason, (neither CIA or SD-6 can account for it), that she decides to duel with Sark, and shows her inner belief as a metaphor by fighting. But by the end of the episode, the three sections of Syd are all covering fire with each other, like the farcial, beautiful final scene of 'Pulp Fiction'. Her compartments are all still in conflict, and as tangled as ever.

1.21- 'Rendez-vous

Just before I begin on this one in earnest, the title reminded me of a really good thing about 'Alias'. I love the way that they will communicate in foreign languages without sub-titles. The creator's almost say- if you care about what Bristow and Dixon are saying in this scene, get out of your little xenophobic world and go learn the language. Of course, it hasn't actually made me enrol on any language courses, but I admire them not pandering to the ludicrous belief that English is a Universal language.

This episode played me and made me cry twice by the end, first Sloane, then Will. Right, so now the disclosure's out of the way, here's how:

-We start with Dixon fighting Syd, and shortly after her return to work, where it becomes clear that the cent has finally dropped in Dixon's mind. He knows he was fighting his partner while she was ostensibly on holiday. He has realised that there is more to her than he has understood, and given his complete faith and investment in her as an agent throughout the season, it comes as a hammer blow to him. It is resolved in one of my very favourite scenes of the finale.

-I like the fact that Sloane will go so far as to threaten to tender his resignation if Emily is not rescued to live out the rest of her natural life. I think I'm being tricked a little though, since I imagine Sloane has no expectation of the bait not being taken, and so has no real intention of resigning his post. As much as he obviously loves his wife, his fascination is always with how he balances his life (though Libra is an air sign, not a water sign, Ann, which is annoying!); how he takes on the things he needs to get exactly right without letting any of them bring him down. This is why his arc-line at the end, bringing into conflict the two most important elements of his life, is so interesting, playing on his general need to fudge, or more generously, compromise.

-Why exactly does Sloane want revenge on Khasinau, and want to bring him down more than anyone? I believe this storyline remains unresolved until the end of the Season, and will hopefully be enlarged upon later.

-'Alias' employs perhaps its first ever in-joke here, where Francie patiently explains to Will the ins and outs of her favourite soap opera, including rather dramatically declaring at one point 'but he is her father!'. By this time the twists and turns of 'Alias'' games are unlikely to be easy for the speculative new viewer. (Hence the requirement, despite its horrible lifelessness, of the clipshow).

-Weiss comes to be an important catalyst here, as Vaughn has stretched so far towards gratifying Sydney's needs as to endanger Weiss' own position as one of Vaughn's closest colleagues. In reaction to Weiss' call on Vaughn, Vaughn takes a step back, looking at the importance of his position within the CIA, and later treats Sydney with a steely reserve usually the preserve of her father. Sydney twigs, but can't work out what's happened to Vaughn's usual affability. It is a breach that will be plugged in another of the finale's truest scenes.

-Musical scene is fun. It appears Jennifer Garner can actually sing, even if she doesn't have the greatest of ranges. What is not up for debate is the fact she can perform- often someone with a mediocre voice can make themselves into a wonderful performer by sheer force of character, which is what she does here.

-The moment of Will's recognition of Sydney is really well done. The actor is brave to be that broad, but actually it works well and doesn't come off as feeling hokey since it's only used for a second or two. What is much more moving about the whole thing is when Will, far from chastising Sydney for being dishonest with him about every level of her life, is simply grateful, claiming that she saved his life, and explaining that he doesn't love her for what she says she was, but for what she actually is. It's an unusually affecting scene of unconditional love. What makes it so powerful is the backdrop against which it is set- in the Abramsverse, alliances are temporary and fluid, water out of a jug, and even fathers and daughters are not at liberty to invest too much importance in each other as agents. Will's emotional honesty are sincerity here shows how different a non-spy world can be, while as a perquisite raising questions about how tenable being a double agent is for anyone with a heart. The scene got to me. Then of course Sark shoots Will, and the sustainability of Will's own philosophy is raised as the cliffhanger's rhetorical question.

-I'd already been softened up for this one by the proceeding scene where Sark shows remorse and guilt for the fact that he killed Danny while being able to wrangle a reprieve for Emily. It's beautifully done; really excellent by Rifkin, and it gives the question of Emily's recovery extra ballast. When it becomes clear that Emily's convenient terminal illness will not help Sloane, he has to go back to the example he himself set with Sydney. The makings of a tragedy is a code of honour without the sanctity of human existence being the prime law by which all other laws are governed. Here, the honourable thing for Sloane to do is to kill his wife. It is also the wrong thing to do.

-Poor, poor Dixon, catching up with Syd and hoping against hope that she might actually explain how she works to him, but to no avail.

And so to Abrams' handiwork:

1.22- 'Almost Thirty Years'

What I always feel is best about the creator's episodes of a series is the way that they're able to get inside the heads of characters so thoroughly that they can arc out a little epiphany for several of their characters rather than a couple all in one episode. In this piece, Abrams seemingly effortlessly brings revelations to Wil, Francie, Sloane, Jack, Vaughn, Dixon and Sydney herself without batting an eyelid. Much of it is done with style and vivacity, and some of them end on nastily twisty cliffhangers.

From left to right then, (the only regular I don't honour in this way is Marshall, who is almost entirely absent from this episode):

Wil- Realises through his reaction to his handling by his torturor that within his view of himself as a sensitive, altruistic but curious journalist, (frankly, our view of him throughout the series to date), lies someone who is both determined and angry. And that these aren't always negative emotions. Determination can make a person stubborn, but they can also result in a refusal to bend to someone else's Will- to endure painfully torment and come out fighting at the other end. Anger can be destructive, but it can also lead to a fervour and a vitality in getting things right, and in wronging injustices. When Will hugs Jack towards the end of the show, it is in recognition of the fact that the world, even this world full of spies in wigs and nasty bespectacled henchmen in underground chambers, has mercy too. From beating Tippin up, Jack has become a reliable character for Will.

Francie- only has a small part in this episode, (I mean, she is a woman, so she's a bit dull, right?), but we do have time to find out that she's opening up a restaurant before she finishes with her grad school work. Francie aims to embrace the newness and uncertainty of the world ahead- to open up the surroundings to her own motives, rather than waiting for the world to ask her what it wants her to do for it. It is this grabbing of the colander by the horns that demonstrates to Sydney what she also can do in regard to Khasinau.

Sloane- comes to the hard, violent dark place where we always want to watch him act- where he is given the ultimatum, and made the offer of a directorship in a cause for which he has a personal delight and investment, if he will only set aside other, small personal interests. We're left on a cliff-hanger here, and I did think to myself that the final scenes had elements of Hamlet in- are we befuddled into believing Arvin has killed his wife when he's actually tampered with his own drink somehow? Yet all we can draw from the episode itself is that Sloane has decided to continue climbing the male career ladder by killing his feminine, sensitive side painfully literally.

I must also note that in a piece of real auteur direction, the way in which Sloane's words are soundless after his first revelation to Emily is marvellous. Sloane opts for full(ish) disclosure, but we are not to hear this moment between him and his wife. This is a genuinely private moment that Abrams debars us from the full intensity of through Verdi.

Jack- Jack's arc is not what one would expect at all. I love the way in which a little thing that used to annoy me has become an endearing character trait for him. After Sydney makes a salient point about his life, Jack will always straight-bat a withering and desultory response. Here he condescends that his way of thinking 'more strategically than emotionally' is something Syd should try. But as often as not he thinks deeply about whatg his daughter has said for a while afterwards. Here, we get Sydney asking whether Jack has any close friends, and Jack thinking, a while later, actually I'm not sure I do have any. This is his almost despairing, out-of-character question to Devlin. Then, symbolically, he kills Haldacki, a powerful symbol of someone who has no desire for friendship whatsoever, only for the procedures of his two agencies. Haldaki is a double agent like Sydney and Jack, but has that same clear-eyed belief that sometimes shows underneath Sloane's duplicitousness.

The beauty, the real beauty of Jack's arc here though is that in the end, he wins a genuinely close friend, almost without comprehending quite why. When Will hugs Jack, he does something Jack hasn't even allowed his daughter this season. But it's sincerely and honestly meant, without a trace of affectation. And Jack, his arms slowly rising around Will's back, thinks to himself, this is what friendship is. This is what humanity is.

Vaughn- Vaughn is the character Abrams takes effort over, actually giving him a nicely written and well-directed section at the train station. Vaughn knows Sydney so well it's barely believable ('I can't believe you remembered that' says Sydney, surrogateUs), and this is a mixture of his great intelligence and the way that, when you're in love, whole conversations that others forget stick in your mind to the exact word. Here, we get the lovely set-up of them sitting away from each other, having to strain to work out the other's point of view. And Vaughn explains his father's duty, and his penchant for demurring only in his own Diary, that girly, that emotional thing. This bounces back off his cold distance in the last episode, and as well as winning Sydney over, also wins him Jack's respect. Jack has been in the situation of aching personal loyalties and boring company policy before, and applauds the fact that Vaughn has already learnt a lesson about being true to himself.

Dixon, who has been accepting Sydney's 'empty rhetoric' for the whole season, finally cracks and decides that the time for evidence has come. Incidentally, I liked the fact that Dixon so quickly dismissed Sydney's 'I am not betraying this country', since I get a little queasy around the other writers' implicit suggestions that the CIA is unfailingly noble and good for the Great American Project. Anyhow, it's a heartbreaking moment because there's nothing Sydney can do, (she asked Vaughn and Jack whether she could months ago), but we feel so strongly that Dixon, unfailingly faithful and trustworthy, has a right to the truth. Their ongoing companionship can only get more interesting from here.

And so to Sydney, finding her mother.

Other bits and pieces:

No teaser again. It seems to be par for the course in Alias' more 'special' episodes to divide the action into four rather than five.

The circumference's size is a slightly artless classic of TV metaphors, the thing that's bigger than you imagine because it's significance has just expanded in your mind. See, for example, the Initiative's head-quarters.

Vaughn's 'Death by Water', (he's not seen dead and I for one am deeply suspicious, but based on what we've seen), has a certain Tolstoyan grandeur to it. He comes to a decision which is right, like Jonathan in 'Conversations...' and then dies for it, staring back to his unconsummated lover through inpenetrable glass. The unbreakable window of what could have been. The music here is also well selected and in full Late Romantic mood.

So we end the season just about to find out who Sydney's mother really is. But we end not knowing. And our not knowing is just one more rhetorical question. The question 'Who are Sydney's parents?' has been the driving force behind the Season. With Jack, we have qualified answers. But with the revised question 'Who is Sydney's mother?' we are not yet supposed to know. It is left unsaid, via a cliffhanger. Drama's ultimate rhetorical question.


Ratings for the Season. You thought you'd never hear these disclaimers again, but here they are for the sixth time, (apologies, but they're important)

1) These may not match up perfectly to my reviews. In some cases, later events make the significance of episodes more palpable, changing my thoughts.

2) The reviews are a much better description, (albeit non-numerical) of my responses to the episodes as a whole.

Right.

Truth Be Told: 7
So It Begins: 4
Parity: 5
A Broken Heart: 8
Doppelganger: 5
Reckoning: 3
Color Blind: 5
Time Will Tell: 6
Mea Culpa : 5
Spirit : 8
The Confession: 7
The Box: 6
The Coup: 7
Page 47 : 8
The Prophecy: 7
Q & A : 3
Masquerade: 6
Snowman : 8
The Solution: 6
Rendezvous : 8
Almost Thirty Years: 9

TCH

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