Once Upon a Time: “Save Henry”

I’ll be honest, I have mixed feelings about season 3 of Once Upon a Time. The Neverland plot has been plodding along at a glacial pace, and the persistent relegation of Regina to the background is rather annoying (seriously, taking one of the most interesting characters in the show and giving her one or two lines an episode doesn’t make for compelling TV). But in last Sunday’s episode, “Save Henry,” Regina finally gets to do something beyond occasional snark AND we finally get to leave Neverland behind. That’s definitely a win-win situation.

The flashback portion of the episode seems to answer one of the core mysteries of the show: why the hell did Regina decide to adopt Henry in the first place? To some extent, it’s always felt like something of an ass pull since the Regina we saw in the Enchanted Forest wasn’t exactly agonizing over the ticking of her biological clock, though season 2’s “Welcome to Storybrooke” helped lay the groundwork for the explanation by showing us how Regina bonded with Owen.

Maybe if I cast "Silence" on him...
Photo credit: ABC/Jack Rowland.

In “Save Henry,” we learn that Regina’s desire for a child is shown to be a side-effect of her decision to commit patricide in order to cast the Curse. That left her with a hole in her own heart, though it can’t be too vexing since she waits 18 years before deciding that a child might help fill the void. Rather than jump through the hoops of the standard adoption process, Regina decides to ask Mr. Gold for help (I have to admit that I snickered when he thought that Regina was asking him for some, ahem, biological help with obtaining a baby). Since this is Mr. Gold, he has no problem sourcing a baby in Boston.

After agreeing to a closed adoption, Regina now has her very own bouncing bundle of pain-in-the-ass, but it isn’t long until little Henry’s incessant crying is driving her up the fucking wall. She takes Henry to Dr. Whale, who suggests that it’s vaguely possible that Henry has some sort of genetic problem, which seems like a naked plot contrivance designed to give Regina a reason to send her lackey Sydney (remember him?) on a hunt for the identity of Henry’s birth mother.

When Regina finds out that Henry’s mother was discovered outside Storybrooke just after the Curse struck, she yells at Mr. Gold, accusing him of playing his own game. Although he feigns confusion, the show definitely gives the impression that he knows more than he lets on. If that is indeed the case, the writers have a problem on their hands. Previously, they said in an interview that Mr. Gold didn’t remember that he was Rumpelstiltskin until Emma came to Storybrooke. Although this has never been explicitly stated in the show itself, it’s been heavily implied.[end]Mr. Gold has an obvious reaction when learning Emma’s name in the first episode, and when Regina goes to see him in “Welcome to Storybrooke,” he seems oblivious to his past life as the Dark One.[/end] At this point, it’s hard to say whether this is a retcon or just careless writing.

Speaking of retcons, there’s an unambiguous one later on in this episode. After flirting with the idea of handing Henry back to the adoption agency, Regina decides that the best thing for her to do is take a magic roofie potion that will make her forget about Henry’s birth mother as well as Mr. Gold’s shady baby-procurement methods. But this causes all sorts of plot problems, since in the first season it’s clear that Regina remembers how she got Henry, and it’s also strongly implied that she knew who Emma was the moment she showed up in Storybrooke. So what happened to the magic roofie? Did it wear off? Did Emma’s arrival nullify it? It’s not at all clear, and the writers appear have created a rather nasty plot hole.

The present-time storyline is focused, as the title of the episode suggests, on saving Henry, who is now comatose after giving his heart to Peter Pan (literally) in the previous episode. They can’t revive him, so Regina casts a preservation spell on him to keep him fresh while they go after Pan. For some reason, this preservation spell will only last an hour even though Regina used a similar spell to keep her dead boyfriend on ice for years.

Although Regina wants to extract Pan’s whereabouts from the Lost Boys through torture, Emma manages to get them to spill the beans with nothing more than a liberal application of maternal love. Apparently, he’s at the “Thinking Tree” (which sounds like it’s the Giving Tree‘s more intellectual sibling). Emma, Regina, and Snow White go hunting for Pan and find Pandora’s Box waiting for them in a clearing. Because Snow is kind of an idiot, she immediately grabs it. Obviously, it’s a trap, and the three ladies are tied to the tree by CGI vines. Pan comes down to snark at them, telling them that the tree will feed off their regrets. At this point, I was afraid the show would give us a long, angsty scene where the three of them come to terms with their regrets, but instead, Regina points out that she doesn’t regret anything she’s done and bursts through the vines. She rips Henry’s heart out of Pan’s chest without further ado, and I rejoice at the welcome acceleration of the plot.

After Henry gets his heart back, everyone piles on board the Jolly Roger to go home. Rumpelstiltskin is reunited with his son (aww!) and good vibes abound. Regina is somehow able to tether the Evil Shadow that serves as the genus loci of Neverland to the Jolly Roger‘s sail (they trapped it in Neal’s coconut nightlight earlier in the season), which allows them to fly away. However, they inexplicably left Henry unguarded down below, and he’s attacked by Peter Pan. Pan can’t re-take Henry’s heart since Regina at least had the foresight to put the magical version of The Club on it, so he tries to tear Henry’s shadow away instead.

Up above, Rumpelstiltskin realizes that something’s wrong and runs downstairs to trap Pan in Pandora’s Box (turnabout is fair play, after all). But while Pan is struggling against the pull of the box, Henry’s eyes flash, which kind of telegraphs the last-minute plot twist. Pan and Henry have done a Freaky Friday, so Henry’s now trapped in the box and Pan is free to cause more mischief. The episode ends with Pan!Henry telling chief Lost Boy Felix that it’s “time to play.” Dun dun duuuuun…

Despite the retconning and some shaky aspects of the Henry Adoption Plot,[end]I find it a little hard to believe that the adoption agency would just let Regina change her mind about giving Henry back at the last minute, considering they already had another placement lined up. Speaking of which, the other placement turned out to be Wendy’s brothers, who wanted to hand Henry over to Pan. Somehow, I’m not sure that an adoption agency would see two seemingly college-aged brothers as ideal candidates for a baby’s new parents![/end] I liked this episode. I’m so glad to be out of Neverland at last. This season’s episodes have crawled along at a snail’s pace, and having everyone team up to search for Henry has really thrown the show’s dynamic off. 

Reflections on Avatar: The Legend of Korra Book One

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD!

Book One of Avatar: The Legend of Korra came to an end last month. I started watching the show with high expectations, but they swiftly took a nosedive as it progressed. Sadly, the season finale did nothing to shake me from my apathy.

I approached the show as a huge Avatar fan. I loved it so much that I purchased the boxed sets of all three seasons, which is something I rarely do since I’m such a cheapskate. I re-watch them regularly, and I can honestly say that I enjoy almost every episode (with the exception of “The Great Divide,” of course).

When I heard that they were going to make Korra, I was thrilled. I was a bit disappointed that we wouldn’t be seeing more of the original characters, but the steakmpunkesque setting looked intriguing. But after the first few episodes, my enthusiasm for the show all but vanished, and I continued watching out of a sense of duty rather than enjoyment.

Korra was originally intended as 12-episode miniseries, but that was eventually increased to 52 episodes divided into four ‘books,’ with each book having a different plot arc. The original series, on the other hand, had 61 episodes spread over three books. Because Korra has shorter books, the plot is forced to move along at a much faster pace, without any filler episodes. That could have been an asset, but instead it turned out to be a problem.

The show’s pacing struck me as woefully uneven. The first part of the book is dominated by the pro-bending storyline, which gets jettisoned midway through so the Amon storyline can take center stage. After a fairly sedate beginning, viewers are subjected to plot whiplash as the remaining episodes zoom from battle to battle.

I wish the pro-bending storyline had been pruned a bit because it really wasn’t all that interesting. The institutionalized nature of the combat managed to make bending boring. At their core, all the pro-bending scenes were the same. Two teams would meet in an arena and lob elements at each other. They were a poor substitute for the varied combat shown in the original series.

The Amon storyline is less repetitious, but things move so quickly that everything seems curiously devoid of impact. The finale contains some genuine drama when Amon manages to strip Korra of most of her bending skills. For a few moments, I thought that the second part of the season would focus on her struggle to regain her mastery of the other elements, and I was genuinely excited.

Alas, Avatar Aang comes along in the last few minutes of the episode and restores her bending while dispensing some pap about how her recent suffering has made her a true Avatar. Apparently, Korra can now tap into her spiritual side, but it’s kind of hard to see this as a momentous achievement when her lack of spirituality hasn’t been mentioned since the first episode.

Of course plot problems can be overlooked if the characters are sufficiently engaging. Sadly, Korra’s weren’t. I think the lack of filler episodes really hurt the characterization. The original series handled filler episodes very well because they often ended up being more character-driven. “Zuko Alone,” “The Tales of Ba Sing Se,” and “The Beach,” are all great examples of how the original series managed to flesh out the characters.

But there wasn’t room for anything like that in Korra, and so everyone remained pretty one-dimensional. Compared to Aang, Korra’s personality seemed pretty flat. She felt like a generic Strong Female Character, and I think it’s because we weren’t allowed to get to know her gradually. She also didn’t seem to face many interior struggles. True, she had problems with the spiritual side of being the Avatar, but that it’s not really a ‘struggle’ when it’s mentioned once at the beginning and then forgotten about until the finale.

Her relationship with Mako felt similarly flat. There was never really any chemistry or tension between them. True, Mako had the hots for Asami for a while, but she might as well have worn a nametag reading “Hi, my name’s Asami, and I’m a plot complication.” There was no reason to think of her as a credible rival to Korra.

And then there’s Amon, the main villain of the book. Although he gets points for having a plot that’s more sophisticated than the usual KILL, KILL, KILL!!!, he’s still rather bland until the finale fleshes out his backstory a bit more. He can’t really hold a candle to either Zuko or Azula from the first series.

I haven’t totally given up on Korra, and I’m willing to watch a bit of Book Two to see if things get better. But I certainly won’t be rushing out to buy Book One anytime soon.

Unnatural History

When I heard that Cartoon Network had a series set in a natural history museum, I had to check it out.  Unnatural History is a new live-action series starring Kevin G. Schmidt, Jordan Gavaris, and Italia Ricci.  Schmidt plays Henry Griffin, the son of anthropologists who has traveled to all kinds of exotic locations with his parents.  To give him more stability, his parents have sent him to live with his uncle and cousin Jasper (played by Gavaris) in Washington, DC.  Rounding out the gang is their Strong Female Friend (TM) Maggie, played by Ricci.  The three of them attend a high school located in the fictional National Museum Complex (which is clearly modeled on the Smithsonian).

The episode I saw involved Jasper curating an exhibit in the museum (apparently, the museum lets one do this every year).  His exhibit is about the Pony Express and his cousin Henry is eager to help him make it a success.  Eventually, they go off on a search for some missing silver from a mine in Nevada that turns out to be contaminated with some nasty bacteria.  Poor Jasper gets sick, and it’s up to Henry to save the day.

Overall, I thought the show was decent.  The plot is outlandish, but fun.  I know next to nothing about the Wild West, so I can’t comment on the accuracy of the underlying history, but I have to give props to the writers for basing the mystery around something other than a mummy or a supposedly cursed jewel.  I also like the fact that, although Jasper is portrayed as an excellent student, the writers resisted the temptation to turn him into a pencil-necked geek with Coke-bottle glasses and a pocket protector.

The show’s major downside is that Henry is in danger of becoming a Mary Sue. Because Henry has traveled the world with his parents, he’s acquired a very diverse skill set and, when he’s forced to use one of his skills, the audience is treated to a little flashback to illustrate how he acquired it.  In moderation, it’s a cool device, but the writers need to be very careful that they don’t rely on it too much, lest Henry become a perfect cardboard cutout rather than a believable character.