"Nothing in the world is the way it ought to be. It's harsh, and cruel. But that's why there's us. Champions. It doesn't matter where we come from, what we've done or suffered, or even if we make a difference. We live as though the world was what it should be, to show it what it can be. You're not a part of that yet. I hope you will be." - David Boreanaz as Angel telling off his bratty son in "Deep Down."
Angel: The Complete Fourth Season DVD Review
By Marlo Serritella
I am of two minds when it comes to Season Four of Angel. Honestly, I am hard-pressed to find a single stinker among the twenty-two episodes of this show's penultimate season. Characters who I was once only mildly interested in over the past few years gradually take on new depths. Unexpected opportunities for humor never cease to entertain. Important commentaries about the line between good and evil take shape. And a completely exciting return of the oh-so-bad-he's-good Angelus has me ringing my hands in sinister delight. Which then makes the million-dollar question, why am I not more excited about this season? Sadly, I think the problem with Season Four can be summed up in one word: Cordelia. Did I fall asleep and wake up in some parallel universe where this character-a constant source of delight since the premiere episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer seven years earlier-suddenly became a somber, energy-sucking bore? Ultimately, I think the other strengths of this season win out to create another fantastic installment in this little spin-off that could. However, the choice to make Cordelia (Charisma Carpenter) into this season's uber-villian was so misguided that the storyline just lost me. I'll do my best to leave you, faithful reader, a steady trail of breadcrumbs.
The season opens with a strong premiere. Fitted for a custom-made coffin by his annoying, ungrateful son, Connor (Vincent Kartheiser), at the end of Season Three, Angel is still trapped at the bottom of the Pacific when Season Four opens ("Deep Down"). With the karaoke-loving demon, Lorne (Andy Hallett), off in Las Vegas, Wesley (Alexis Denisof) still banished for his sins of last season, and Cordelia living as a higher being up in the clouds somewhere, that leaves the ever-brainy Fred (Amy Acker) and the justice-seeking Gunn (J. August Richards) to hold down the fort at Angel Investigations. My favorite moment in this episode involves Wesley secretly holding Justine (Laurel Holloman) captive in a cage in his bedroom closet. Kudos to the brainchild behind this image. I almost expected to see Quentin Tarantino's name when the credit's rolled. If it's possible, I hate the character of Justine more than I despised Kate Lockley back a few seasons ago-and this even before Justine slit Wesley's throat and left him for dead last season. You'll recall that as Connor forged his father's aquatic prison, Justine steered the ship. Now she waits bound and gagged as Wes and Lilah (Stephanie Romanov) have sweaty, angry sex in the next room. All this, and the season's barely begun.
It appears as though Wesley has spent his summer vacation searching the ocean's bed for Angel. Take note; when last I checked, Angel and the rest of the gang hated Wesley. Well-intentioned as it was-Wesley believed that Angel was destined to kill his son-Wesley's decision to kidnap Angel's miracle child still leaves many questions. Of course, Angel never really asked those questions, choosing instead to try smothering Wesley to death. Now, the choice for Wesley is, what do you do when the best friend who betrayed you needs rescuing? (You could actually ask this same question of both Angel and Wesley, which is what makes all this complicated, internal drama so darn much fun.) But for now, Wes has decided to put aside their differences and save one of the world's true champions. Lest you think that morality on Angel is simplistic, recall that Wes is running this noble search mission with the help of the girl slave, Justine, whom he forces to poop in a bucket. (It's in such ethical messiness that Angel finds its unique perspective.) Weak and half-crazed from his three-month retreat spent at the bottom of the ocean, Angel needs human blood to regain his strength. Wes gives his old boss a further lesson in friendship by extending his hand to offer Angel a warm drink. And I'm not talking about some cocoa. I'm talking about the hand.
I'm sorry to linger on the character of Wesley, but as for old faces with new charms, this former Watcher wins with little contest. I finally understand how Superman got away with posing as Clark Kent for all those years. Who knew that hiding behind Wesley's glasses was James Bond-only grittier, meaner and let's face it, hotter? But what's most interesting about Wes this season is not his smoldering, bedroom eyes. It's not just that he's sleeping with the enemy, or even that he's running his own troop of demon hunters. There is a dramatic shift in both his attitude and his actions that might strike some as too great a change to be realistic. To those skeptics, I would ask-what would you be capable of if you were violently cut off from everyone you loved? And while I was somewhat surprised that Wesley found comfort in the bed of Wolfram & Hart's evil lackey, Lilah Morgan, I'm not surprised that this relationship had more than a little substance. I might even argue that the highlight of the entire season came when Wes sat alone with Lilah's body after she had been murdered ("Salvage"). The actor's quiet portrayal of sadness, regret and shame was palpable. In the end, I guess sometimes we can surprise even ourselves with strength we never knew we had. If you were to ask Wesley from whence this power came, the answer would be simple: "I had my throat cut and all my friends abandon me" ("Spin the Bottle"). Well, that'll spark a change.
But just because Wes doesn't want to see Angel dead, doesn't mean that they're gonna be all chummy again. After recovering Angel, Wesley delivers him back to the Batcave and leaves with barely a word. That's right, Connor! "Daddy's coming home, and I'm guessing there's going to be a spanking" ("Deep Down"). Unfortunately, Connor really gets more of a stern talking-to than anything else. I've never really been interested in the dynamic between Angel and his son. I'm not sure if we're supposed to pity Connor because he got all kidnapped and aged like seventeen years in four weeks while growing up in some hell dimension last year. But still, come on, he sealed his father up and dumped him off a boat somewhere between Pussy Bonpensiero and Wilson the volleyball, and all he gets is some dirty looks and a few jolts from a stun gun. What you may not understand is why Connor barely gets a slap on the wrist for leaving Angel to rot under the sea. Luckily you have me to spend all my precious free time taking copious notes on just such minutia. Angel decides that what Connor deserves as punishment rests on one question: "Did you do something to Cordelia?" ("Deep Down"). I actually think that they made this point far too subtly. Angel has just returned from a watery grave. Yet all he cares about is Cordelia's safety. Though I am still not ready to admit he loves her, the evidence does seem to be piling up. Check back with me in Season Five. Fortunately for Connor (and unfortunately for me who longs to see this snot-nose, hell-dimension reject get his bony ass kicked), the kid is not responsible for Cordelia's unexplained disappearance. I guess Angel knows how to take his own advice: "there is a difference between wishing vengeance on someone and taking it" ("Deep Down"). Amen to that.
Of course, Angel barely has time to find his land legs before this season's featured baddie makes his ugly presence known ("Apocalypse Nowish"). Brought up from the bowels of the earth and sprung to life in this world right at the very spot where Connor was born, the Beast is new in town and looking to party. His plans-surprise, surprise-involve killing everyone in his path, blocking out the sun and ending the world, blah blah blah. You know the drill. This doesn't yet explain, however, why his hit list includes all his fellow villains at the evil law firm of Wolfram & Hart ("Habeas Corpses"). Here's another twist. Recently returned from her stint on a higher plane somewhere, Cordelia's handy-dandy visions reveal that this unstoppable demon actually has a history with Angelus ("Long Day's Journey"). Only, all knowledge of the Beast has been magically erased in this dimension. So, Angel can't actually remember anything helpful about the monster. Now, here's where everyone really puts their thinking caps on. The sky is raining down fire. A seemingly unkillable demon is destroying the city. What should we do? I know! Let's lock Angel in a cage of questionable security. Next, we'll hire a shaman to rob him of his soul. This will in turn resurrect Angelus who, as the solid reasoning goes, will then be more than happy to share his knowledge on how to kill the Beast with this band of do-gooders ("Awakening"). Oh, and we'll keep Angel's soul in a fragile, glass jar locked in a wall safe that doesn't look secure enough for grandmother's pearls. When we're done, we'll just soul him all up again. Everyone who thinks this is a good idea raise your soon-to-be severed, bloody stump of a hand. Questions? Comments?
So many of the details surrounding the descent from Angel to Angelus are truly exquisite. Even though he is a willing participant in this little experiment, Angel is not giving over his soul without a spiritual fight. In "Awakening," Angel crosses that rickety bridge into the demon version of himself. Get ready to hit the rewind button. It's in these precious moments between what is, for Angel, life and death that the desires of Angel's heart are most clear-resolution with Connor, remorse from Wesley, and, I guess, hot sex with Cordy. Then, abracadabra, Angel has left the building. When Wesley places a chair in front of the cell holding Angelus, I half expected to see Jodie Foster sit down in it. But, this evil vampire would never ruin a good liver with some fava beans. I love the monumental amount of havoc that Angelus wrecks-all from the comfort his tiny cell little cell. It's in moments such as these that I continue to believe the writers do their best work. The fear, insecurity and jealousy that Angelus exposes among the inner-circle do far more damage than any blows he might strike. Angelus may have been dormant for years, but he can still weave that old black magic. Connor is one of the first to get stung when Angelus points out that "the first woman you boned is the closest thing you ever had to a mother" ("Soulless"). Ouch. Angelus also takes a crack at Wesley's newfound charm: "got some new clothes, cool haircut, hit the gym-you're still the same loser none of the other kids wanted to sit with at lunch" ("Soulless"). Even though he's an evil bastard, it doesn't mean he's not insightful. Sticks and stones be damned; it's those darn words that'll get you every time.
There are more than a few interesting surprises that come from the reemergence of Angelus. The best of which involve a visit from our second favorite Slayer, Faith. In an effort to take Angelus down without killing Angel (in the best fight sequence this season), Faith shoots herself all full of some funky drug ("Release"). Angelus bites her in a scene that probably should not have been so sexy to me, and next thing you know, their minds are both trapped in some kind of lucid dream. Before you can say Michael J. Fox, we seem to have traveled back in time for a little tour of the life and times of Angel where Angelus and Faith get to walk around unnoticed, much in the fashion of Ebenezer Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Past ("Orpheus"). The moments in this episode are spectacular on many levels. First, Boreanaz gets to have some fun and play both characters with the deftness that he mastered long ago on Buffy. We also finally get to see a fight between Angel and Angelus. This is not just a battle of good versus evil, right versus wrong or love versus hate. It's a choice. This is the constant struggle that exists within him. It's Angel's choice that he has to make everyday, regardless of whether his soul is locked away in a silly jar or tucked away all safe and sound. Who am I going to be? He's been asking that question for over a century; I think he's finally starting to figure it out.
Based on the intel recovered from Angelus, we learn that what everyone thought was the ultimate scary demon actually has, gulp, a boss. Beastie is just the minion of the real power in town who's pulling all the dastardly strings ("Calvary"). In other words, pay no attention to the man behind the curtain while the Beast is tearing your skin from your body. Only, this mastermind has come up with a far better hiding place: Cordelia's womb. It wasn't bad enough that Cordelia slept with Connor in some twisted one-night stand (Apocalypse Nowish"). Now we find out that this whole Oedipal nightmare resulted in Cordy getting all knocked-up ("Salvage"). And judging by the frightening rumbles of her belly, something wicked this way definitely comes. Apparently, this hell spawn is so powerful that the unborn demon has been able to control Cordelia through its evil umbilical cord. In other words, "she is the real Cordelia, but she's not drivin' " ("Inside Out"). I think the most painful scenes involve Cordelia, in her reign of terror, hiding Angel's soul under the bed sheets and making kissy-wissy with Connor while rubbing her pregnant belly. Oh, and her making out with the Beast-it was everything I could do to keep down my lunch. Yuck. It's kind of like a bad scene out of the movie Clue when Angel and the gang finally piece together all the horrible deeds Cordelia has secretly done over the course of the season ("Players"). Lilah was not, in fact, killed by the professor with the candlestick in the library! It was evil-Cordelia with a knife in the hallway. Now, I know that it's not actually Cordelia doing all the evil. But come, on! Cordelia is the once-bitchy Prom Queen with great shoes who traded in her selfish ways to help rid the world of evil. Sure, she's been commandeered by some all-powerful creature that forces her to do its bidding. But, as I reflect over the images of Cordelia this season-chopping guys to bits while naked, cursing our friend Lorne, convincing Connor to shed innocent blood-I just have one question. Why? What greater purpose does it serve either to the narrative as a whole or to the integrity of this character to take Cordelia down this road? Perhaps there is some philosophical significance for turning Cordelia into some quasi-demonic puppet, and I'm just not savvy enough to find it. Fine. I'll never wear my Phi Beta Kappa pin again. But, that lack of insight aside, I still just found this whole storyline cumbersome and humorless.
And what, you might ask, is born from this demon seed that once birthed puts Cordelia in a coma? Would you believe me if I said a 30ish mocha-skinned goddess with flowing locks and a gentle, soothing voice? Well, believe it. She emerges from the womb fully formed and all immediately bow down before her in wonder and worship. We shall call her Jasmine (Gina Tores). And she comes with a message of peace and love. Wait, what? Yes, she promises "chaos will fade . . . evil will be banished by the deeds we do . . . no death, no worry, no fear" ("Shiny Happy People"). Jasmine has come to defeat the forces of hate and change the world. Of course, she also controls her cultish followers with mystical mind-control, eats people for nourishment and those attractive, girlie features are actually concealing maggot-ridden rot where there should be a face. But, hey, she's all about the love. I'm still a bit fuzzy on this. Jasmine really does want to save the world from itself. It's just her methods that are a bit tricky. It's possible that my Catholic-school rearing has made me extra-sensitive about such issues, but I get an almost offensive, anti-Christian vibe from this latest big bad. I mean, you've got your requisite miracle birth, apostles, messages of peace and love, plus, what I can only describe as a technologically advanced Sermon on the Mount. (In his betrayal of Jasmine, Lorne also calls himself Judas Iscariot ("The Magic Bullet".) I'll put my own biases aside and argue instead that Jasmine is a poignant commentary on society's desperate need for real leadership and our longing for a solution to the human condition's constant feelings of worry and fear. See, apparently the only way to effectuate Jasmine's glorious new world order is by robbing us dumb humans of our free will. I mean, we're never going to just do it our own. So, she is less than pleased when Angel reveals her true nature to the world and breaks the spell: "I could have stopped it Angel-war, disease, poverty" ("Peace Out"). But Angel, more than anyone, knows that that meaningful change in life has to be of our own choosing: "our fate has to be our own" ("Peace Out"). To bad our own choosing sucks.
The season ends with a welcome visit from Lilah on assignment from her new office in hell. As a thank you for ending world peace (yup, that's pretty much what they did), the senior partners at Wolfram & Hart have decided to give controlling interest of their L.A. office over to Angel and his cohorts ("Home"). In other words, Angel can continue to try and save the world, only he'll be managing it from his Herman Miller chair. Dazed and confused, the gang shows up at Wolfram & Hart for the grand tour. Everyone even gets their very own guide inside the evil empire. This really isn't of any great significance, except the young actor playing one of the guides, Preston (Jason Winer), used to sit next to me in a college writing workshop and still owes me notes from Linguistics class in 1993. Anyway, my brush with fame notwithstanding, Angel strikes a doozy of a deal and the stage is set for next season. If the saying "keep your friends close and your enemies closer" is at all true, things are about to get very cozy.
