The Amazing Nicole Beharie

I have loved Nicole Beharie since Sleepy Hollow started.  Her naturalistic portrayal of our tough and tender Abigail Mills, her ability to roll with whatever is thrown at her, her comic timing, the example she sets for millions of a smart, powerful working woman...not to mention that she is just staggeringly beautiful, and always poised and kind in public appearances have made me a true fan. 

I had heard she sang beautifully, and I had been looking forward to hearing her sing in tonight's episode of Sleepy Hollow, "Kali Yuga."  A friend sent me the following link from her 2012 film My Last Day Without You to get a taste of her singing before tonight. 

My Last Day Without You--Official Video

As if that weren't enough to blow my mind, Ms. Beharie herself posted this video singing a song dedicated to her aunt.  The amazingly modest singer calls this "rough."  I found it breathtaking.  Hope you like it too.

Missing Val

This woman's voice is enough to make a diehard Mison fan ask "Tom who?  Oh, is there someone else in that show besides Nicole Beharie?" 

Episode 2.9: "Mama," the Original Ms. BAMF

All the Mills women are fighters.

With Episode 2.9 “Mama,” directed by Wendey Stanzler, we're treated to a beautiful love story between a mother and her daughters, a powerful theme exploring Abbie's need to understand why she was chosen to be a witness, a well-developed plot, and, best of all, quality time with Jenny, Abbie, Irving and Mama Mills.

The more I watch this show, the more I realize Sleepy Hollow demands a great deal of its writers. By the end of Act One, writers must introduce this week's case, the B story/love story/heart, the theme of the episode, the villain/s and the motivation of at least one of the villains, a clock or other barrier our heroes are up against trying to defeat said villain, a bit of detective work, mortal stakes--preferably for our heroes--and a real hook, or teaser, for the act break. This all has to be achieved in roughly nine pages of excellent story-telling. I've described this structure to successful, accomplished television writers and seen their jaws hit the floor. “All of that? In the first act?!?”

Pretty much.

Given what writer Damian Kindler was up against he did a more than adequate job of setting us up for very satisfying Acts Two and Three (or as they're known in Sleepy land, Acts Two, Three, Four, Five and Six). That said, Act One was, for me, the least satisfying part of an emotionally very satisfying episode.

We open with a rather bland nightmare of Abbie's, with her mama in one of the Nazgul's old robes wandering amidst ruins furnished with lots of dry ice and a few fires. Mama doesn't want to give away too much of the plot so all she tells her daughter is “Abbie, demons!”

Yeah, well, we knew that, Mama. We've been watching the show.

We transition to the present and once again find police lieutenant Abbie Mills playing nurse. Now, I understand that police are trained as First Responders, and the tenderness of the moment between her and Crane is really quite lovely. But this makes at least the fifth time this season Abbie has played a significant nursing role (with Hawley in “Go Where I Send Thee” and “Heartless,” with Katrina in “Deliverance” and “Heartless,” and now with Crane). It's nice to see other sides of Abbie, including her nurturing side, but please be careful with this. Nursing has traditionally been a very socially conservative feminine profession, and not exactly the most empowering to women. Abbie's a police detective, not a nurse.

No one should be able to look that good sick.
No one.  

If Tom Mison wasn't really sick when this episode was being filmed he deserves an Emmy for Best Performance of a Time-Traveler With a Cold. Hell, if he was sick, he probably deserves it even more. The tiny bit of Ichabod we get in this episode is mostly a delight. Cranky Ichabod insists that he can continue working despite his illness: “I fought at Saratoga with dysentery.” I love the call-back to Episode 2.5 and the re-enactors' intention to replay the Battle of Saratoga. You can just picture Ichabod wandering around the field saying, “No, no. You were over here.  You were over there.  You were dead.  Excuse me a moment, I need to find a tree.” Mison also continues his successful run of making props into interesting supporting characters. Ichabod-meets-child-proof-lids was wonderful.

When Abbie's dream startles her awake, she shares the dream with Ichabod who, adorably, in his blocked sinus voice, calls Moloch something that sounds a great deal more like “bollocks.” Beharie then very naturally takes us through the exposition setting up our story, telling us she's been dreaming of her mom every night for the past week. Alas the Irritating Recap gets a bit clunkier as we explain Abbie's—and her mother's—connection to Tarrytown Psych, the location of a spate of recent suicides.

When Jenny goes with her sister to begin the investigation at Tarrytown, absolutely no one with a brain larger than a walnut needs her presence explained with Abbie's “no one knows Tarrytown better than you.” But, really, who cares? Jenny's back from Series Siberia!! YEA!!!!!

After a speechless patient tries to tell Abbie and Jenny something, subtly enough so we're not quite sure if this might be relevant to the case, a very friendly nurse with a fashion sense stuck in the 50s welcomes Abbie to the hospital. This scene was handled so deftly by writer, director and actors. Happily, the first patient on Jenny and Abbie's visitation list is Irving. Having these three back in the same room together, doing detective work together, is a long-overdue and welcome treat, made even more poignant by Jenny's memories and pain, the PTSD she's obviously experiencing at Tarrytown even as a guest. And it was heartbreakingly lovely to hear Abbie still refer to her former captain as “Sir” when asking if he had anything to do with the suicides, seeing as he's signed his soul over to the Horseman of War.

Irving reminds us "I did all this for my daughter."  What sounds like Irving sharing more of the Irritating Recap actually serves as a rather subtle introduction of this episode's theme, parents sacrificing themselves for their children. Abbie is typically indefatigable, self-assured and optimistic when she assures Irving they're not only going to get him out of Tarrytown but also undo whatever Henry did to his soul. This was a powerful scene, well-written, well-directed, and well-played by all three actors. 

I am a bit worried about the new Sleepy Hollow writers, though, given that Mr. Kindler named the first suicide at Tarrytown Psych after one of the scribes of  Episode 2.7.  He then goes on to give the new writers one hell of a pep-talk about life in the writers' room through Jenny. “You learn to deal with the abuse and being surrounded by misery.” Do you guys need a care package? Matzo ball soup and scotch?

We are treated to some very fine backstory for the Sisters' Mills in Act One, and it's a completely believable payoff from two seasons of getting to know her to hear Abbie admit fear that she would end up in an asylum like her mother and sister. The fact that this fear has “tainted everything she's done since” is a potent window into her character. And, now that she knows her mother wasn't crazy but literally wrestling with demons, we find out her deeper motivation for figuring out what happened to her mother at Tarrytown Psych. She wants to know “why am I a Witness? Why was I chosen for this?” Setting up this week's theme as a question to be answered was very brave, but also very dangerous, because it leaves us, the audience, rather expecting an answer by episode's end.

Abbie and Jenny seeing their mother's ghost in the corner of late patient Nelson Greave's room makes for a powerful act break. Thank you, guys, for understanding that the emotional weight of this episode is such that we didn't need a mortal scare for our heroes at this point. I do wonder, though, how Abbie didn't connect her mother visiting her in her dreams every night for the previous week with the suicides at Tarrytown. Abbie's a pretty smart woman, and this is at least the second time this season your audience has had to wait for the detectives to catch up with them regarding the case.

When we flash back to Mama Mills and little Jenny and Abbie we meet both the marvelous young actresses playing our heroines, Haley Walker and Melannie Sanchez, and the amazing Aunjunue Ellis. Ms. Ellis' ability to take a character as high-pitched as Lori Mills and not only make her consistently believable but painfully empathetic, is remarkable. I must confess, I do wish she could have been written/directed with a lighter hand but I get that we're meant to see a woman who has been almost completely broken trying to protect her children.

Our tone lightens up back at the archives, a bit too much for my taste. Crane's resentment of Hawley feels cartoonish and overplayed given that the two men just killed a succubus together in the previous episode. His fierce defensiveness of Katrina when Abbie casually points out that Mrs, Crane hasn't managed to kill Moloch yet is curious given his own doubts about his wife. The discovery of matzo ball soup, and the suspicious eyes when he starts falling over in his chair from Hawley drugging him were, as ever, played spot on by Mison. Still, I profoundly miss the subtlety of Crane's humor from the first season.

We get a bit of shading to Hawley's character in a call-back to Mr. Kindler's “Go Where I Send Thee,” learning that our resident charming rogue is a Jane Austin fan.   However, finding this out actually kind of irritated me vis-a-vis the earlier episode.  I was going to comment in my critique of that episode, “why doesn't Hawley just call Crane 'Darcy' instead of 'Pride and Prejudice'?” But then I thought, oh, because he's never read the book. (Or if he did, it was at gunpoint in a tenth grade English class). But his inexactitude makes no sense in light of him being an Austin fan, now calling Crane “Mr. Woodhouse.”

As Crane dozes off and Hawley and Abbie bond over literature, we drop into the middle of a scene between Henry and his mother. Henry quoting Hamlet to Katrina is all well and good--those of us who will never be able to afford to see John Noble perform Shakespeare on the stage very much appreciate the Bard bones--but narratively, where the hell are we?  When last we left Katrina, she was playing the newly resolved Bride of Headless and cooing over Baby Moloch. Now she's telling her son she won't cooperate in whatever his latest diabolical plan is.  Is Katrina really so enchanted by the sight of a human baby she can't deduce who the child is, or is she pretending not to know so she can be alone with the baby long enough to kill it?

You have to admire Katia Winter' sense of humor about all this.

The mother-and-child tension between Katrina and Henry is good. The absolute best part of the scene, it's heart, are the emotions flitting across John Noble's face as he watches Katrina nurturing Moloch enviously.

Back at Tarrytown, Third Wheel Hawley helps the Mills' sisters subdue the mental patient, Walter, whom we portentously met earlier in the episode, and Abbie gets sucked into some vortex, presumably by her mother's ghost. Once she lands, in an old wing of the hospital, Abbie runs into both her Mama's ghost, trying to warn her, and Nurse Lambert, looking suspiciously like a refugee from American Horror Story: Asylum. After these two disturbing visits, Abbie leaves the wing to look for Jenny and Hawley. Jenny and Hawley, meanwhile, go looking for Abbie, splitting up, as you do in a haunted psych hospital, and Jenny ends up getting a few moments alone with her mama as well.

Fortunately, Mama Mills understands this is a detective show, and so she obligingly gives her daughters an obscure, written clue instead of just telling them flat out what they need to know (in fairness, Kindler did address this, making it clear from the start that Jenny fears her mother, and having her shout at her mother's ghost to stay away from her). But how the hell does Abbie know that the message is an alpha numeric code used by mental hospitals to designate patient video sessions, specifically one of her mother's? (Oh, right. Because it's Abbie's week to Just Know Shit).

Meanwhile, back at Fredericks' Manor, finally alone with Baby Moloch, it takes Katrina noticing she's been poisoned by his nursing (on her shoulder) before she suddenly remembers, “there was something I was supposed to do...now what was it again? Oh, right. Kill Moloch.”

Honest to God, Katrina, it was literally the the only thing on your to-do list.

And, naturally, she's too late, since Baby Moloch grows almost as fast as Fetus Moloch, and already he's talking which of course means he's now too powerful to kill (because...reasons?). Moloch is apparently also trying to delude Katrina into thinking the blond child is somehow her son, calling her “Mother” in a lovely English accent (even though Moloch thinks the English say “lieutenant”). This entire plot line is just SO. BEYOND. WEIRD. Because having one's son be the Horseman of War, one's ex-fiance be the Horseman of Death, an apocalypse to stop and a husband who doesn't trust you is just Not. Enough. Drama???

No caption required. 

In a gorgeous scene back at the archives we are reminded why the fandom keeps begging for more Lyndie Greenwood as Jenny confesses that, while she loved her mother, she was also terrified of her, and as a result doesn't really want to see a videotape of her mom with a shrink. The loving moments between Abbie and Jenny are written, acted, and directed beautifully, and feel so real. Good older sister Abbie says, “we do this together,” and the Mills sisters' unity and strength is enough to make you want to cheer.

While they watch, we're treated to tension-building intercutting between Abbie and Jenny learning from Mama Mills that, while she was a patient at Tarrytown, the same Nurse Lambert was poisoning her mind and convincing her to commit suicide, and Lambert in the present persuading Frank to take his life. While the weight of this scene was handled beautifully by all, I have to admit I was bit thrown by Abbie beginning this section of the scene already quite emotional. I would have expected to see her tamping down her emotions, trying to watch the video like a professional detective and then crumbling the more she watches her mom.

The next act is just gorgeous from start to finish. Because he just hasn't suffered enough this season, Frank Irving tries to kill himself. How creepy am I to be appreciating Orlando Jones' magnificent torso as he's playing, so beautifully, Irving's suicidal torment? Discuss. (Do not discuss). On the subject of suicidal torment, could someone please donate money to Tarrytown Psych to replace all their flourescent bulbs? And maybe take up a collection for some new bathtubs too? Nurse Lambert or no Nurse Lambert, they'd be enough to make me pack it in if I were a patient there. Bless Nick Hawley's heart, he thought to bring a knife to a ghost fight, so when the A-Team rushes in to save Irving, they're successful. My bad, Mr. Hawley; I guess you do have a purpose in this episode after all.

Abbie and Irving's post-not-mortum was gorgeously restrained, tender; its power really came from what wasn't said. Back at the archives, Abbie and Jenny figure out that the Nurse Lambert they've encountered is the ghost of a nurse executed in the 50s for her role in numerous mental patient suicides.  In a well-paced, well-played scene, Jenny asks Abbie, “You really think Mama knows how to stop her?” so we know we're heading back to the asylum for a final showdown.

Thinking they'll find answers there, the sisters and Hawley head to mama's old room in an abandoned wing, and in a fantastically real, gorgeous bit of visual poetry, the women (with a little help from Nick) pull off the remains of the peeling plaster, literally unearthing their mother's true heart, to see a mural of themselves, painted by Mama Mills. It's a beautiful moment, followed magnificently by Jenny freaking out remembering her mother tried to kill her in a suicide attempt. “Even when she was trying to protect us, we weren't safe.”

Cue Mama warning everyone that they're not safe.  Mama explains that there's a journal packed away in the hospital with her things. The journal has an ancient hex that can stop Lambert. Mama's been trying to use it to stop folks from killing themselves, hence her presence in Mr. Greaves' cell on the video, but she couldn't remember the words, which makes perfect sense in light of all she's been through. It was great getting to see Mama being something other than Totally Crazy with a capital Cray. After Abbie is sucked by Lambert through another vortex, Mama shows us where her elder daughter's general-like organizational skills and capacity to pull it together quickly when the shit hits the proverbial fan come from. Fortunately, Jenny knows exactly where this journal would be—on a shelf in the hospitals' archives, right between the French nuns' demon-expelling lantern and the consecrated stained glass that voids the Tyrian shekel's power.

In another abandoned wing of the hospital (couldn't they rent these out for parties or something?  Earn a little cash to get the patients better Jello?), Abbie goes into her default self-defense mode—shoot the supernatural thing, just in case that helps—but no one comes running in the asylum from the sound of a gun shot because Gina Lambert wisely interrupts Abbie before she can fire by strapping her to a wheelchair.  Abbie—being Abigail Mills--fights so much harder in that wheelchair, strapped down, than Katrina has EVER fought for ANYTHING. Not to beat a dead horse, but why can't Katrina take some lessons from Abbie in 21^st century Ms. BAMFness?

Back in the hospital archives, we learn that Jenny too, apparently, got the family skills in the witch department—who knew?—as she finds and begins to chant the ancient hex. A good, quick flashback makes sure we all remember who Grace Dixon is without slowing the tempo or action.

Lambert reveals her motivation for killing all these people in a monologue which nicely convinces us she's a somewhat complex villain. Another noose comes into frame, like in “Go Where I Send Thee”; I'm noticing a pattern here, Mr. Kindler.

Nurse Lambert takes her sweet time getting sodium pentathol into Abbie Mills' mouth, just to make absolutely sure Mama Lori has time to show up and rescue her girl, even though Lori's a ghost which must mean she can take shorter routes than us humans, right?  “And. Now. We. Take. Our. Pills.”

I've been waiting 400 years for this. 

Our climactic fight is a very rewarding battle between two dead women, the sort of thing only Sleepy Hollow could pull off. We're treated to more magnificent visual poetry as Mama Mills wraps a chain around Nurse Lambert's neck.

Jenny's hex and Mama's fierce strength and determination defeat Lambert; both the villain and Mama disappear by the time Jenny and Hawley find Abbie. The rapid emotional shift here between Abbie's seemingly very cool—too cool—demeanor as she tells Jenny Mama “fought for me” and then losing it after she's cut free didn't work for me. I feel like there was a step in that emotional process we didn't get to see, one that was important.

In our B story's powerful, tear-jerking climax newly-minted witch Jenny raises Mama Mills from the dead for a reunion and proper farewell to her daughters.  Head-explodingly, Abbie acknowledges her partner's contribution to the ceremony with “thanks for bringing all this stuff, Crane.” Another thing to add to the business card?

Ichabod Crane, Esq.

History Professor, Revolutionary Officer, Witness to the Apocalypse,

and Procurer of Witchy, Ghost-Raising Materials

I love the looks Crane and Abbie give Jenny when she slips on her sorceress robes. “Did you take a Learning Annex course we don't know about? Where the hell did you get all this stuff? Since when do you know how to conjure the dead?  Don't you think that might have been a useful skill to list on your resume when applying for a job with Team-Stop-The-Apocalypse, Inc.?”

Crane's sneering reluctance to take Hawley's hand feels sillier and in poorer taste even than Yitzhak Rabin's antipathy for taking Yasser Arafat's at the signing of the Oslo Accords. Even Hawley gets that it's time to make peace. In fact, it appears that his time spent pinch-hitting for Crane (like anyone could) seems to have inured Hawley to the insanity of life on the A-Team. While the Witnesses seem a bit uncomfortable with this ceremony, Hawley's just rolling with it.

The scene among Ellis, Beharie and Greenwood is deeply moving, really perfect.  It turns out, like Katrina with Ichabod, Mama knew all along her beloved Abbie was a witness (but also never told her). When Abbie asks her point blank to answer this week's emotional puzzle, “why was I chosen?” Mama demures with “so many things you don't get to choose, Abbie.”

Aw, c'mon guys. Seriously? Don't get me wrong. This was a great scene, particularly with the flashback showing us the actual end of Jenny's earlier story, how Mama saved Jenny from demons.  All three actors held the scene together beautifully, and again, it was lovely to see the women handle everything while the men supported them. And the scene's ending--“I forgot how beautiful she was”--felt so real.

"Don't give me that 'aiding and abetting' look, Mills."

But Mama's answer was in no way satisfying to this fan. I appreciate your not making it easy, but given that this was the damned thesis statement, it's more than a bit irritating to wind up here at the end.

The final scene was a delight: Frank, the victim of demons, has agency and uses it to escape Tarrytown Psych. YEA!!!!!!

Because Nothing Says Irony...

like being criticized for advocating the Golden Rule.

Something Approximating an Apology

This morning I woke with a bad taste in my mouth, after finishing writing about Sleepy Hollow Episode 2.12. I realized I'm tired of critiquing other writers, particularly those who have been able to do--with even moderate success--something I haven't done yet at all, namely write a producible script and get the thing made.

To say that this is no small feat may qualify as the understatement of the millenium, and I'm not just saying that cause it's really, really hard for me. Near as I can tell, it's really, really hard for everybody.

Television writers are, first and foremost, artists. True, they make better money than 98% of other writers, but that's not why they do it. They do it for love of the craft, the love of story, the ancient, bone-deep need to make the tiniest bit of sense of this world for our tribe. They do it to entertain and edify that tribe. They do it because they can't not do it. I will never believe that any writer sits down at his or her computer and says, “how can I get away with the bare minimum so I can get paid?” We're a proud people, us writers; if we're going to put our name on something, we want it to be good.

The fact that these scripts are good enough to pass muster at Fox and have a lot of money put into their production means they are good. Not perfect, because they're written by human beings, but good.

Critiquing someone's else's work can be fun. It makes one feel smart. “Look how terribly clever I am! I found a witty way to make you feel like shit for doing your best and not being perfect.” Who on earth is required to be perfect? Whose work is? Good criticism hits on point, but with love; it is written or offered with the express purpose of helping a colleague be a better writer, an artist be a better artist. I worry sometimes that I have forgotten that. The sarcastic shredding of someone else's hard work is like a temporary salve on the wound of not having done that work oneself. For all my witty comments, the writers of Sleepy Hollow are the ones bringing home the pay checks, getting to work each day with brilliant amazing people, seeing their work performed. That fact is not remotely lost on me.

Deconstructing someone's else's creative baby is about 20 gazillion times easier than giving birth oneself. It may be a good exercise for helping one become a better writer, figuring out what works and what doesn't and why, but it doesn't get one's own script written, and it doesn't actually make writing that script any easier. If anything it makes it harder because as soon as one puts pen to paper one starts making the exact same mistakes one just excoriated another for making. And one still has to ardently court the Muse, sometimes for months, and then sweat and bleed all over one's pages to get somewhere remotely decent.

So, I'm not going to work on any more critiques right now. If I'm so smart, then let me write a decent Sleepy Hollow script. Let's set the bar a little higher—a good one. That should keep me sufficiently occupied that I don't have time to hurt the feelings of other writers doing their damnedest to entertain me. I'll finish and post my reflections on 2.9, 2.10, and 2.11 one day, perhaps soon, because I started this project and I will see it through. Besides those episodes were pretty great—in fact, for 2.11 I could just write “Bravo, Mr. Goffman” and call it done. But I enjoy waxing enthusiastic about good writing and he deserves a lot better than that, especially from me.

In the meantime, I have some sweating and bleeding of my own to do, and gratitude to express. Thank you, Sleepy Hollow writers, for all your hard work, and for keeping me entertained, coming back, week after week. You all are rock stars. Here are some virtual tissues to wipe the blood off your keyboards.

Sleepy Hollow Episode 2.12: Paradise Misplaced

"I used to hug Abigail like this, my dearest,
but I couldn't find her a box."

My dear Mr. Metzner, you know that you bought yourself a LOT of good will with me with “The Weeping Lady.” And you know that successful story-telling in television requires seduction and spell: seduce your viewers into falling completely under your spell and then keep them there for the next 43 minutes (or whatever). I get extremely cranky and rather unforgiving when the spell is broken for me, especially in Sleepy Hollow. The spell was broken for me in this episode early and frequently, which is just a shame because there was so much in Episode 2.12, “Paradise Lost” that was really well done. Let's start with some of that, shall we?

The bones of the story (not to mention the heart) were excellent. I ABSOLUTELY LOVED the place you went to philosophically in the climax: that Abbie and Ichabod aren't going to allow anyone else to determine for them who the enemy is. And I adored the fact that even though Orion is an angel and helped Abbie feel a lot less alone in a lonely world, even though Headless is their mortal enemy, both Ichabod and Abbie are willing to side with Headless over an angel when the alternative appears to be worse. And bravo for taking a rather complex set of motivations and ally-twisting in the climax and making it completely comprehensible and believable.

Orion was a fantastic villain and a lot of fun--deliciously well-constructed and well-played. Max Brown wore that role like it was a pair of comfy old Levis. And, as Crane implied, it's really nice for them to have a supernatural ally for a change (you know, a competent one), short-lived though the alliance was. I would love to see more of that fallen angel.

Orion gave us an opportunity to deepen—and challenge—our understanding of Abbie Mills, and I very much appreciated that. I also really loved Orion pointing out to Abbie that maybe she and Ichabod had gone just a tad beyond their job description in fighting the apocalypse as opposed to just witnessing it (which is not what the word “witness” actually means in The Revelation, but since the book's been put through a meat-grinder already and since Orion is a little bit, totally crazy, who cares?).

The things that went south for me in this episode did so pretty early on. One minute in and already the spell was broken.  Why are Abbie and Crane holding each other at arms' length having just survived a pending apocalpyse? Then we get Beharie underacting, Mison overacting, and Crane inexplicably telling Abbie (who was conscious, present and accounted for in the previous episode) that Henry killed Moloch. Crane's embrace of Katrina is the most tender, passionate and moving I've seen in the entire history of their relationship, but his reaction to Katrina's “where is our son?” is just weird. Like a dude with a terrible hangover, Crane replies “I...woke up a moment ago and... he's gone.” Really? He was your only son AND a seriously psychotic supernatural villain, and that's all you've got?!  Mison did a typically excellent job of looking bewildered, with concerned, hesitant elation vying for the rest of his facial real estate.

The tiny bit of mourning we get from Katrina, though well-acted, was actually more irritating than moving because she completely dismisses the possibility that Henry may have killed Moloch a) to save Ichabod TOO, or b) just because he was pissed at his adopted dad. Katrina, it's not necessarily all about you; you're smart enough to know that, even when grieving your son.

Six weeks later...ugh, how I hate that, but okay, fine, whatever...after a tonally whiplash-inducing transition that did not work for this fan, we find the obscenely talented Mr. Mison chewing up every piece of non-wormy-fruit at the farmers' market as he tries in vain to ground an Ichabod Crane written as a cartoon. Ichabod's hammy obsession with the idea that evil is still afoot in Sleepy Hollow was painful to watch and is treated like lunacy by Abbie. (For the distinction between silly and disarmingly, adorably hilarious, compare and contrast his reaction to Abbie's correcting him re: the timing of his shouting at the umpire in “The Sin-eater.” That is one of the all-time great moments in Sleepy Hollow history.)

Uh, Abbie...I think your cousin Steve
has gone off his meds again.  

Beharie, for the first time ever in this show, seems to be phoning it in until she and Orion hit it off, and her chemistry with Mison feels...strained.

As an organic farmer I thoroughly appreciated the politics at the front end of the farmers' market scene, and absolutely adored Crane's commentary on the “farm-to-table” movement (“I still fail to understand how that constitutes a movement”). You and me both, brother. Does food come from somewhere other than a farm?

As for the whole reinvention/redefinition/reimagining/re-whatever theme Ichabod introduces--and every single character reiterates in every single act--yes, it's a very nice theme, very good, echoed beautifully throughout your entire story. Now please take down the flashing Tarrytown Psych flourescent bulb above it.

Even though Crane's hamminess continues back at the archives, the conversation between him and Abbie in his new “bedroom” is powerful, especially Mison's rendering of his heartbreak over the separation from his wife. Actor, director and writer made me feel it beautifully. Although I have to say, “issues to mull over separately” is a...generous way to describe Crane's little verbal assault on Katrina in “The Akeda,” and Abbie pointing out that Katrina spends more time with “our greatest enemy” (who just happens to be her ex-boyfriend) than with Crane was quite the dumping of a box of salt on an open wound.

At the farm, Crane remains achingly silly until he and Abbie start discussing Ichabod's sub rosa issues with possibly being out of an evil-fighting-job. Abbie's litany of the "stuff" thought to constitute responsible adulthood in modern America was beautifully written.  But then she says something which makes no sense at all. “Before I knew that we were Witnesses, I didn't have any of the big questions locked down. Should I enroll at Quantico....”

Hold the phone, Abbie. That was the one thing you were entirely clear on. You may not have known your Purpose, you didn't know about Grace's journal, or your mother's torment at the hands of demons, but when we met you, the one thing you did know is that you were leaving Sleepy Hollow for Quantico. Should I send you a copy of the Season 1 DVD?

Mison does a very fine job as a man finally admitting his groundlessness sans demons to fight. AAAAANNND....Cue demons!! As the friend I was watching this with asked, how did Crane and Abbie spend an hour walking around that farm and never once check the barn?  I found the demons themselves about as frightening as lint.  They look like they've been hanging out in Series Purgatory since Buffy ended.

"Hi.  I'm Demon #1.  I like dancing,
long walks on the beach, and shedding
my blood for Horsemen of the Apocalypse."

Enter Orion. Beharie's and Mison's wonder is marvelous, but I could feel the Mary-Martin-as-Peter-Pan lines Orion flew in on, and again, that broke the spell for me.  For such an amazing new creature, this introduction was kind of underwhelming. That said, the tension of the three characters' meeting one another was marvelous. When Ichabod asks Abbie how she can be sure Orion really is an angel and she deadpans “the wings were kind of a dead give away" it's gorgeous.

Of course, when Abbie goes on to ask “if you can't trust an angel, who can you trust,” I'm thinking Mama Mills needs to remind that girl of her mantra: Trust. No. One. Still though, it gave Ichabod a chance to remind Abbie and the audience of Lucifer (for all the good that did).

I liked Abbie explaining to Jenny that she can't be her “wingman” at the bar right now, sorry Sis, but some demons escaped purgatory and we need to lock that down, stat. Both actors played that perfectly straight, and Jenny--understanding, appropriately concerned, but relatively nonplussed--deciding to just go ahead and pursue the bartender on her own, but not before calling Hawley to help the A-Team track the demons, was lovely.

Thankfully, Katrina texts Crane (she's getting the hang of the 21^st Century very quickly), because with Ichabod absent, we're treated to a glorious scene between Abbie and Orion. Thank you so much for having Abbie ask him about the Big Stuff! I hate it when people get a chance to talk with folks from heaven and never ask them any pertinent questions. As for Orion's description of the Big Guy/Gal, Abbie's frustration rings very true. When Orion responds, “You'll never be satisfied with my answers,” Abbie speaks for all of us when she replies, “well not if you answer like that I won't.”

(“You couldn't possibly understand” works just fine for the Ineffable, especially coming from an angel).

"Look, I get that you're a villain.  But you're tall,
handsome, English, you have my back and
you're not in a wildly dysfunctional marriage."  

Nicole Beharie gives a completely absorbing performance as a lonely woman entranced with this supernatural creature who really seems to get her. And a good thing too because only that performance makes it remotely bearable that Abbie Mills, having been told by the angel himself that he “broke rank” in heaven, wouldn't have figured out that means they're batting for different teams!!!! I mean, don't get me wrong...the complexity of her emotions and palpable need combined with his charm were handled well in the scene. But it really is one of those things you just can't look at too closely or you'll start screaming. If Crane's point about Lucifer was taken--and why wouldn't it have been since Abbie knows the Bible inside and out—an angel who has gone “off the reservation” would have set off some serious alarm bells for our brilliant detective.

Why are the demons looking for a new leader? On second watching, with subtitles, Orion tries to story that concern away by describing them as lesser demons, always wanting someone to follow. Thanks for explaining it, but I don't believe such creatures exist in Evil's ranks. In a power vacuum, wouldn't new demon leaders be having a bloodbath over who takes charge? Or am I thinking of Al Haig?

"Hi.  I'm Demon #2.  I've had it in for
sword-wielding Brits since Ewan McGregor 
killed my cousin, Darth Maul"

I'm liking the post-Moloch Katrina. She speaks instead of whispering! She loves Ichabod but she has a purpose of her own, one that she's acting on! Separated from her husband, Katrina seemed strong in this episode! Now, why is she still in a corset? That said, her costume was really quite lovely.

The scene between Katrina and Crane was decent, particularly in terms of the actors' physical expression of emotions, but a better job (or any job) could have been done explaining a) why Katrina would need Crane to help her try to save Abraham in the first place, and b) why he would have a problem with the seemingly great idea to separate Abraham from the Horseman, whatever his issues with his old pal. Also, Crane inexplicably needing time to think things over is a Really Important Time Constraint in the narrative, as it explains why she doesn't just go ahead and try to separate Abraham NOW (instead of waiting for sweeps); it totally got lost the first time I watched this.

The whole supposedly huge, terrible thing Katrina did to Crane, telling him that their love affair was partly responsible for Abraham choosing the path of evil, just did not seem to warrant the two mentions and an entire climactic confrontation between Ichabod and Katrina.

I loved the scene between Orion and Katrina, how they kept “reading” each other, how he tried to bond with her over the fact that they were in purgatory at the same time. I really wish they could have had a moment there, along those lines. “What did you like to watch on The Purgatory Channel? Did you get good reception on the mirror phone?” I did not appreciate Katrina continuing to back up during the conversation; one step, fine, but then I would have really like to see her back him up a bit! And I was completely confused when Orion said he was imprisoned near a “forest redoubt called Valley Forge.” It took me a ridiculously long time to figure out that he was using “imprisoned” as a verb of which he was the object, and not an adjective describing his state of being for 200 years. Maybe I'm not that bright, but maybe that could have been written a bit more clearly?

"Hi.  I'm Demon #3.  I like...
...oh, never mind.  I'm going to die soon."

I loved that Katrina set Headless free. I mean, aside from the obvious story-telling possibilities this gives us now, the reasoning behind it was gorgeous. And you really came through in explaining her motivation, vis-a-vis feeling responsible for Abraham's jealousy.

I have to say, I have frequently bemoaned Katrina's Quakerness as being all but invisible, what with the booberiffic outfits, her participation in the Revolutionary War, and her rather disaffected relationship with truth-speaking. But in this episode, Katrina has actually shown herself quite a bit more Quakerly (that is, for a woman still participating in a war—are pacifists allowed to participate in the war between Good and Evil?) Whatever her deeper motivation for trying to save Abraham's soul, the fact that she was willing to set the Horseman of Death free, to risk him killing her husband, taking his word he would not, in order to give Abraham the chance to be separated from his avatar, save his soul, perhaps...that was seriously Quakerly.  That pretty redhead is starting to grow on me, which in itself, Mr. Metzner, is nothing short of a minor miracle. That's twice now you've helped me like Katrina. Thank you.

Abbie's encounter with Orion seemed to encourage her to stand up to both Crane and Katrina more firmly, more clearly, and I do like that. I also loved Katrina standing her ground against Crane, Abbie and Orion in Headless' cell without any of that confrontation bearing even a passing resemblance to a cat-fight. And I love Crane asking Abbie to help him make things right with her.

Let's see...what else was great? Oh, Jenny's still back from Series Siberia. That's good. I appreciate that.  I did not appreciate that, aside from hitting on and being hit on by men in this episode, she does almost nothing. Please do not bring Jenny Mills back from Series Siberia just to yell at Hawley while he solves the Riddle-of-the-Egg-of-Haggis.

"I'm always dressed to kill."

Much has been made about how hot Jenny looks in this episode, and she does, but such comments suggest that she didn't look hot before and personally I've found Jenny smokin' hot since we first saw her doing push-ups in her Tarrytown Psych tee-shirt. I haven't liked at all how much make-up she's had on this season; talk about gilding the lily. She does not need a skirt and heels to look womanly. You don't have to dress her to kill, to paraphrase Hawley (a ridiculous phrase in Jenny's case since in her birthday suit she is dressed to kill, literally) to make her sexy. That said, it was fun to see her get to change things up a bit, and see her taking the initiative to pursue someone-who-isn't-Hawley. Great job having Hawley say the reason Mike's all wrong for Jenny is because he can't handle a woman like her, she'd make him into jelly.

Of course, she'd make powdered Jello of Hawley, which leads to my biggest story frustration with this episode: Hawley out-of-abso-fucking-lutely-nowhere suddenly having a thing for Jenny. Look, jealousy I'd buy, cause he's a dude and he and Jenny have hooked up in the past. But to have Hawley suddenly claim he wants to be with Jenny, in a real relationship? Seriously, guys, I've seen better patches on tires. It's totally fine if you want to abandon the Hawley's-falling-in-love-with-Abbie storyline, but you have to make it believable that he is now--with no precedent other than a hook-up aborted because he wasn't really interested--in love with her sister.

Although “Nothing can't not matter. Only something can” was WONDERFUL.

Orion's second arrival was so much better—gorgeous, really, like something out of The Lord of the Rings. To see Abbie begin to fall really hard for this fellow as they bond was enchanting.

"You must understand: when I say
'Ultimate Frisbee,' I mean...."

Crane's call to Abbie and his warning about Orion was masterful--simple, straightforward, enough. And I love that we're not really sure how much an impact it will have on Abbie's decisions.

The demon ceremony does a good job giving us reason to continue fearing Headless regardless of his vow to Katrina; otherwise it just seems silly. Demons have blood? Shedding it is a big deal? Also, what does Headless drop into the fire? Is he cleaning out his shed?

(Got it on the second time through – he's forging a new broad axe—I forgot Crane destroyed his in "The Akeda.” Thanks for picking up that loose end).

(Although, still...Headless had nothing more romantic than angle iron and rebar to melt down? Is he still hoping to have a farm there one day with Katrina, been doing some work around the place in between trying to bring about an apocalypse?)

The scene between Orion and Abbie as the angel lays out his full plan--kill Headless, take his power, kill every human he judges as evil, including Katrina--was completely absorbing. I haven't seen exposition handled that well for a loooooonnnnngggg time. Abbie's defense of Katrina is heartwarming, and I also love that Orion's intention to kill her partner's mate is the last nail in the coffin for his and Abbie's alliance. (But, Orion, honey? You're new here. You want to kill Katrina Crane, you're gonna have to take a number).

He's ba-ack!!!

The parallel fight scenes between Abbie & Crane and the demons, and Orion and Headless, were well-done.  I especially appreciated that Abbie fought the demons using hand-to-hand combat and a scythe instead of just shooting them.

Abbie's break-up speech to Orion, climactic-theme-sharing was beautifully written and beautifully delivered. “What about the good? What are they, acceptable casualties?” The act break of Headless advancing on Crane and Abbie was fabulous, as was the fact that, Abraham's vow to Katrina to the contrary be damned, he's still quite ready and willing to kill Crane first chance he gets. Curiously, and magnificently, it's Crane, rather than Katrina, who successfully prevails upon him not to do so.

As for the episode's last scene between the Cranes, honestly, it didn't do much for me, but it was so much better than so much of what we've seen. Since Katrina and Ichabod had their little “break-up” in “The Akeda,” they have suddenly become a) slightly sexy together, b) microscopically believable as people in love, and c) people whose relationship I can almost, sort of, root for a little bit. (Miracle Max's off-screen resurrection of Irving has nothing on this!)  But I really don't get how Katrina used their marriage as a “bargaining chip.” A tool of guilt, sure, but that turn of phrase implies something else to me. When Katrina tells Crane, “I simply wanted you to support me, believe in me,” and Crane retorts, “when have I not, Katrina?” I laughed out loud. Crane, isn't that kind of the entire reason you two are separated right now, because you don't believe in her anymore?

Still, though, Cranes Fighting has way more heat than Cranes Chastely Canoodling In Front of the TV, especially when it's followed by Katrina making what I assume is a Georgian era pass at her husband. “If we are to give life to our marriage, why not start today?” It's very interesting that she does so by touching the exact same arm in the exact same way she did Abraham earlier in the episode.

Katrina Crane making a pass at one of her husbands. 

Reunited with Abbie back at the police station, Crane seems positively upbeat about how things are on the home front which I understood not at all. They haven't actually addressed ANY of their issues. Please, writers, don't make it easy for the Cranes.  They're so much better and more believable when it's tough.

The closing scene between Abbie and Crane is just boring. I'm shivering from the lack of heat, or even warmth, between these two. I'm also really tired of seeing this same scene repeated every week: “We won, here's what we learned, our bond is unbreakable, blah, blah, blah.” “Witness Represent” was not an improvement.

Irving's back!!  And he wants some MILK!!!

Like any great story-teller, you saved the best for last: Irving's alive! (He is alive, right? I probably shouldn't assume that. He's certainly eating like a living human who spent the last six weeks dead,-not-for-tax-purposes). And his concluding exchange with the convenience story clerk is a delight.

“Where am I? Is this heaven or hell?”

“Neither, man. This is Sleepy Hollow.” Just meta enough.

Beautifully played, Sleepy; excellent teaser for the next episode.   

Sleepy Hollow Episode 2.8: "You're My Funky Valentine...Quite Confusing Valentine..."

Sitting shiva for their marriage?

For a while now, I've found myself using the word “heart” to describe the emotional through line of a Sleepy Hollow plot. Albert Kim's “Heartless” proved to be anything but, serving up plenty of love-related angst, humor, plotcakes, metaphors and poetic allusions. Well-plotted, with some good relationship tension between Abbie and Ichabod, enough triangles to compose an exquisite Magen David, and Katrina actually getting to be useful to Team Stop-The-Apocalypse, the episode had much to commend it.

Unfortunately, this hopeless romantic, moon-in-Leo, Valentine's Day baby could not make a lick of emotional sense out of it.

Opening with a schtick used many times—Ichabod's face in close-up, saying something terribly serious, that we later learn is but a platform for a humorous scene—we are treated to the single most unbelievable thing I've seen yet on Sleepy Hollow: a recently reunited Mr. and Mrs. Crane watching a Bachelor variant, fully-clothed, in bed.

For the record, I would just like to remind us
all that the husband in question looks like this.

Guys, you want to give me zombie George Washington, I'm down. A carbon copy of the Headless Horseman who fights for our side? Not a problem. Benedict Arnold turned by the same coin that turned Judas? Bring it.

But don't ask me to buy that Katrina Crane, proto-feminist, madly in love with her husband and separated from him for more than two centuries, would spend one nanosecond of their precious time together watching a TV show that sets women's liberation back ten trillion years when she could be ripping her husband's clothes off and making sweet, passionate love to him in every single corner of that cabin, post-partum convalescence be damned.

For his part, Ichabod Crane is a virile young man, supposedly filled with burning desire for his wife (according to the succubus we meet later) who has not had sex in more than two hundred years, and who managed to bore an electronic personal assistant to death with stories of his and his wife's idyllic love. I don't care how much Katrina lied, or how many of his ex-fiancees she may have murdered, he would not just be sitting next to his bird calmly watching tele when his fellow Witness walked in.

...especially when the bird in question
looks like this.

(Look, if you wanted to keep these two out of bed for a while longer, you didn't need their marital woes, Katrina's convalescence, or bad TV to explain it. All you had to do was write a scene of them discussing their terror that any child they create now will be a target for Henry. And then at some point down the line, perhaps in response to Crane's increasing sexual frustration, you could have had someone explain birth control in the 21^st century. Just a thought).

That said, the scene was gorgeously lit.

Delighted to be rescued from the marital bliss he hasn't enjoyed for two and a half centuries with a woman he loves so much he made the On-Star operator Yolanda weep, Crane hits the road with Abbie to investigate a murder. We already know our victim was killed by a femme fatale summoned for hell-knows-what-diabolical-purpose by Henry. So, this week's villain is a vamp. Sigh. You're going somewhere liberating, or at least interesting, with this, right Sleepy Writers?

At the crime scene, outside a nightclub, Crane interrupts Abbie translating 2014 to 1781 to assure his partner that he and Katrina were quite the libertines back in the day, frequenting such scandalous establishments to dance the gavotte, allemande...even waltz!!

Abbie indulges him. “Crane, you like to dance?”

“Wouldn't you like to see?” Crane replies, his voice dripping way more sex than that cabin saw in the previous week.
(YES, PLEASE)
With professionalism and resilience, Beharie and Mison manage to make the flirtation look fresh no matter how many takes they do. Beharie's Abbie throws back her head laughing, utterly convincing as the focused, straight-arrow detective bewitched against her own will by this time-traveling charmer.

Cut back to Henry and Abraham bickering like two magpies through the Disney mirror. Again, why and how is there a hierarchy among the Horsemen, and how did Headless end up at the bottom of it? Like his love for Katrina hasn't emasculated his villainy enough this season?

Our Witnesses problem-solve their way into Act II wonderfully as Abbie asks Crane, “Can you check the thing in the....”

“Indeed. Am doing so,” he replies. Gorgeous showing-not-telling of their intimacy, Mr. Kim. And just as Katrina starts getting involved in their work. Isn't that interesting?

Well, in theory, yes.

Meanwhile, Katrina-the-powerful-witch remains physically weak and in need of her consort to rescue her, even though she never actually gave birth. On behalf of every woman in the audience, Abbie is magnificently annoyed with Katrina's latest spell and Ichabod's subsequent solicitude.

“Can I get you something?” Abbie asks Mrs. Crane “(seeing as I really need your husband's head in the game right now and not fussing over you)?”  But, no. Turns out Abraham used to bring Katrina quince tea to soothe her nerves, something Ichabod has no idea how to procure. Seeing her partner's distress, Abbie comes to the rescue physically and morally, offering to get tea and takeout, while showing insensitive Katrina that, she, Abbie, knows Ichabod's favorite Chinese food, thank you very much. Beharie makes Abbie's pain palpable yet professional when Crane and Kat leave without even saying good-bye.

I love scenes like this, even if they are a tad obvious. Hey, this is broadcast TV; we don't have a lot of time for Edwardian subtleties.

And now back to our villain. Okay guys, mega props for making the next of victim of the succubus a woman but did you have to introduce it so awkwardly? “It's not him you want, but women?” Really?

We get a nice poetic shot of the “Pizza for One” box as Abbie calls her partner about the succubus' latest kill. As Crane continues to chastely babysit his wife—oh, and look up things--Abbie goes in search of unaccounted-for-artifacts from Ben Franklin's inventory, which unfortunately requires meeting Hawley at his office the local bar.

"Which part of 'not even to stop the Apocalypse' was unclear?"

Determined to squeeze this business meeting into a date's dress, Hawley channels Matthew McConaughey's gravelly incoherence, albeit none of his charm, refusing to give Abbie any intel until she tells him whether she's asking him as a cop or friend. Abbie's tired-of-being-hit-on-in-a-work-environment frustration resonates deeply when she asks “which one will get me to yes?”

Not surprisingly, Hawley proves useless. Surprisingly, Abbie lets him off the hook for his caddish behavior with “guys will be guys.” (Abbie, to quote your fan-base, #AbbieMillsDeservesBetter). But when Abbie figures out that a man who gets into the back of his own car, as the first victim did, expects to “get lucky,” it's magical, as is Beharie's easy shift into humor.

“So, he was with a woman,” Abbie says, reaching over to underscore her tender translation with a hand on Crane's knee. Gorgeously, Katrina enters speaking, right on cue. “Of course. Why did I not see it sooner? The signs are classic.”

Magnificent, Mr. Kim. I see what you did there. Very nice.

As Katrina explains that a succubus is drawn to hidden desires and can mimic the object of them, we see Hawley back at the bar getting picked up on by our villain, actress Carolina Ford, marvelously channeling Abbie Mills.  Matt Barr does a beautiful job conveying Hawley's attempt to make sense of this pseudo-Abbie.

Katrina announces that she can track Sucky's energy and demands a map. The look that Abbie gives her is priceless. Beharie raises the tension in the room at least 50% without saying a word. Abbie deduces that the succubus is going after Hawley (so at least now we know why he was taking up valuable story-telling real estate). I guess because Katrina's “too weak,” Ichabod and Abbie leave her at the cabin, at night, a place Henry knows well, with a jealous ex-boyfriend/Horseman of the Apocalypse a-hunting for her, and rush off to save Hawley.


Hawley, safely saved from his one-night stand with Sucky, wastes no time reminding us why he will never be good enough for Abbie Mills. “Well that settles it,” he says in a lame attempt at bro humor. “I'm definitely not buying her breakfast.” Not to be outdone dissing Hawley's date, Abbie dubs Sucky “Miss Love 'Em and Eat 'Em” and gives the boys some time to bond while she telephones Katrina for tracking help (and to see if she's even still there, hasn't been beheaded, etc).

Crane figures out Hawley has a thing for Abbie a tad too easily, but the lovely, infatuated look on Hawley's face when Abbie suggests he stay in that night and read a book is wonderful. You know, when he's a man instead of a bro, Hawley's not half-terrible.

Driving back to the cabin, Crane finally acknowledges he, too, has been distracted of late. “Katrina,” Abbie deduces, saying her name like it's a disease. But Abbie gives her partner some tender, mature advice. Crane tries with delicious awkwardness to reciprocate in kind as he gives her permission (being the only responsible male in her life) to date Hawley. When Abbie shrugs off the possibility as a complication in her life she can't afford, Crane asks her with grossly unfair tenderness, “since when has opening our hearts to new possibilities been a complication?”

She stares at him meaningfully, just this side of long enough. “Since always.”

Back at the cabin, Katrina has a nightmare about Baby Moloch and Crane deduces she's struggling with post-partum depression. Annoyed, Katrina reminds him that she was carrying a demon from hell through no fault of her own, thank you very much, and no, actually, that isn't what she's feeling. Alas, then Katrina has a vision and again her powers weaken rather than strengthen her.

And, naturally, the idea to focus her visions, thus giving Abbie and Crane the final answer to this week's mystery, comes not from Katrina but from her husband. Katrina focuses her visions easily, and sees Moloch in demon-baby form, being fed by Henry and the succubus at a vine-laced, decrepit, modern-day Fredericks' Manor. Horrified, she figures out why she's having these painful visions--the creature who was inside her is still alive.

In the next act Abbie deduces, incomprehensibly, that while Crane was trying to destroy him, Moloch “must have shunted his energy somewhere.” Seriously?  Shunted?  First a spider made of liquid poison impregnates Katrina with Moloch by crawling into her mouth, then Ichabod terminates her one-day, Alien-lite pregnancy using a Revolutionary War-era northern lights prism of Ben Franklin's, and now Moloch just “shunts” his energy to a test tube whilst Henry raises a succubus to forage the local nightclubs for baby food as Team Evil's Plan C?!?!

What follows is an extremely unsatisfying scene of overwrought conflict between Abbie and Katrina. Abbie's tired of trying to convince Katrina that Henry must be destroyed, and Katrina's tired of Abbie not appreciating that a) he's her son and b) he therefore must be redeemable and redeemed. The subtext, namely Abbie's anger at Katrina infiltrating hers and Ichabod's partnership, finally comes out, and Katrina finally shows real anger too, though not at her husband or son, both of whom really deserve it.

I think Abbie speaks for all of us. 

While I must confess it makes me happy to see Abbie take a swing at Katrina, and almost as happy to see Katrina not back down, this scene rings really false to me. These two women were so mutually respectful in the previous episode, despite the Henry conflict. However committed to the cause Abbie is, she would have some understanding of and empathy for Katrina's position. Similarly, Katrina, a lifelong warrior for the cause, would have some compassion and respect for Abbie's position. I know that the energy behind the conflict is actually about Ichabod's attention and loyalty, but Abigail Mills is a mature enough woman to recognize that, and fight with the appropriate person, namely Ichabod.

I also loathe the fact that it takes Ichabod again coming between two strong women to get them to stop fighting. Ick. And not in the cute-English-time-traveler kind of way.

Back in the archives, Abbie figures out that Sucky is “the Inchordata,” Ichabod figures out this means the creature literally has no heart, and I figure out that even though the show's artists drew the demon with a womanly figure, including strong arms, legs, and meat on her bones, the producers inexplicably hired a very slim model/actress to play the character. Ichabod also finds a creatively ludicrous origin story for Saint Valentine's Day, thus allowing Abbie's resentment of being put in third wheel position again to surface. Confusingly, though, her aside hints at romantic feelings for her partner as she kvetches “and now single people everywhere have to drown their sorrows in tubs of Rocky Road.”

It turns out that the Inchordata's heart is stored separately from the rest of her body; once it's found and destroyed, she can be killed. Brilliant Abbie reminds us that she put a trace on the Horseman of War's online activity (spend a moment with that clause, if you will), and that intel proves very helpful in locating said heart. Katrina just happens to know the heart would be stored on consecrated ground and she also just happens to know that an immolation spell will destroy it. Uh-huh. You know, like her husband just happens to know how to play a Chinese bone flute.

Crane then assigns resentful Abbie to protect his wife on her mission to destroy the heart, while he reluctantly partners with Hawley to take out the Inchordata.

Let me just make sure I've got this. Crane was willing to leave his wife in the clutches of not one, but two Horsemen of the Apocalypse, where her magical powers were blocked, leaving her no self-defense but her own wiles. He was willing to leave her alone, weak if not incapacitated, at his cabin while Abbie and he went off to protect Hawley. But suddenly he needs to send Abbie to protect Katrina when she goes to a cemetery, where everyone she's likely to encounter is either, by definition, dead, or an immortal villain, and therefore immune to Abbie's bullets? Have I got that right? Okay. Just wanted to make sure.

Not unlike her husband, Katrina thinks that the middle of a dangerous mission in enemy territory is the perfect time to discuss difficult relationship matters, and a good thing too, since that's obviously the real reason Ichabod sent the gals off by themselves. Katrina doesn't start off well, taking liberties with her counterpart's name. Calling her “Abigail” out of nowhere--something even Crane doesn't do unless one of them is about to die--Katrina acknowledges how she must appear to Abbie. “You think I'm being irrational, willfully blind even.”

“Condescending” Abbie adds without a missing a beat. She's not going to be seduced by this woman as easily as the fellas are. Abbie then tries to help Katrina get a grip by telling her “My mother loved me and Jenny, but in the end, it wasn't enough.” Huh? Mama Mills couldn't love her girls enough to...protect them from her? To protect them from demons? While Mama Crane can't love Henry enough to...turn him from his evil ways? But Abbie and Jenny are good; Henry's evil. I'm not getting the parallel here.

Meanwhile, back at Club Twerk, Hawley, when asked his intentions by Crane in loco parentis, again proves himself totally unworthy of our brave leftenant.

"Dear God, not the Urn of Rats!
Will my suffering never end?"

When, at the cemetery, Katrina and Abbie find the urn that holds the Inchordata's heart, we're treated to a surprising and humorous scene which does nothing to raise Katrina's stock for female fans. It turns out that Katrina-the-powerful-witch is mortally terrified of rats. Since Henry put a perception spell on the urn, we also learn that Abbie's afraid of maggots, but that barely gives her pause. Typical Abbie; she sucks it up, sticks her hand into the seemingly-maggot-and-rat-filled-urn, and pulls out the heart.

As Katrina begins doing the old Romani-Greek thing, Abbie calls the fellas to let them know the gals are working on destroying the heart. Hawley takes another giant step toward winning Mills' heart by informing he's lost her partner. And the succubus.

In a back room of Club Twerk, the succubus, this time channeling Katrina even down to the corset and breathy English accent, shows us that the missus is Crane's most hidden desire. Wait, what?!?! Why would Ichabod hide his desire for Katrina? How could it be a secret to anyone? Even Siri and Yolanda know. She's his legal, Christian wife; she's the one person on earth he is not only allowed, but supposed, to desire!

Is this a tacit acknowledgment of the complete lack of chemistry between these two actors last year? It certainly confirms that watching TV was the raciest thing the Cranes attempted during the-week-alone-that-should-have-been-a-second-honeymoon.

The whole purpose of this scene, and indeed, I suspect, the succubus' existence in this episode, is to inform us (and Ichabod) that despite that burning desire, his feelings for Katrina have soured, and he now doubts her. But we already knew he doubted her, and if his feelings have really soured, how can he be a hero, a man we admire, and still be burning with desire for the woman?

Perhaps a tad phased by Sucky's revelations Crane stabs her with a supernatural knife given to him by Hawley who doubted Crane, the war hero, could handle the fire power of a revolver. In a very interesting cut, at the exact moment that Crane stabs the succubus, the vessel that held her heart zaps Katrina with a protective hex. Now, this could just be an excellent job of editing for maximum climactic action, but Albert Kim has a lot of poetic stuff going on in this episode, a lot of potential story-telling pieces being moved around the chessboard, so I suspect there is more to this connection than meets the casual eye.

Fans have complained that Katrina faints here, but she doesn't. She's attacked precisely because her power is working which is quite a bit different, but given Katrina's history, not necessarily better. Since Katrina is, once again, incapacitated, Abbie again demonstrates that she bears more than a passing resemblance to a witch herself and promptly ignites the succubus' heart.

But before Sucky's heart can be destroyed, she recovers from her stabbing and comes after Crane's life force with a vengeance. When Hawley arrives to help, she turns on him, allowing Crane to demonstrate both impressive knife-throwing and gun-slinging skills, for a guy, who, you know, only fought a war to found a country. A nice fraternal beat between Hawley and Crane plays out once the succubus is dispatched, but because I can barely stand Hawley at this point, I just don't care.

Meanwhile, Abbie, channeling a hobbit, next to Katrina, channeling an elf, tries to help the older woman walk. Curiously, with Abbie, Katrina doesn't seem to feel a need to appear helpless. “I'll be fine,” she says, even displaying a rare and utterly charming moment of humility. In return Abbie finally concedes Katrina's value to the team, which touches the older woman immensely. Sense and sensibility again reign among the women as they reach accord that Moloch has to be stopped.

Katrina then tries to redeem herself for pretty much every whisper, every fall, every mistake—hell, even the damned corset--by announcing that she is going to solve the conflict between her and Abbie, risking her life and her husband's love for her, by killing Moloch. To quote Abbie, wow. I mean, damn, girl, way to step up!

Naturally, her plan requires she send herself back into captivity.

WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?! SERIOUSLY, SLEEPY WRITERS?!?!

"Just so you know, Abigail,
I'm totally Team You Guys." 

To convince Abraham to take her back, that she's not a spy, Katrina “will tell him how Ichabod has moved on, how he has found his life here, with [Abbie] by his side.” Abbie's nonverbal response, “Wait! Even you're shipping us now?!?!?,” is worth the price of admission alone.

At Crane's cabin, Hawley takes his sweet time bandaging his torso from Sucky's attack giving both Abbie and the audience a nice view of Matt Barr's lovely muscles. In a gesture of thanks for his part, Abbie gives Hawley the succubus' burned-up heart to sell on eBay. Hawley's “it's not every day a girl gives me her heart,” is made tolerable only by Abbie's, “and now I have to punch you in the throat.” Still, I find myself shipping these two microscopically more than I do Ichabod and Katrina, which has to be the 21^st century definition of wrong.

When Abbie tells Ichabod what Katrina's gone off and done this time, he, shockingly, goes all Sensitive New Age Guy on her, saying Abbie was right, that relationships have to evolve. “Katrina is the love of my life, but she is also a highly skilled operative, a fact I tend to overlook [perhaps because I've never seen it.]”

Oh, Crane! You liberated husband, you!! “I must trust in her skill, her experience. But more than that I must trust her.” Such a lovely thought. How far Ichabod has come in one episode from Mr. Stuck In His Patriarchal Ways!

Unfortunately, his faith, and Katrina's brains and bravery, are both TOTALLY UNDERMINED by the visual we're given as he waxes admiringly about his spouse, namely that KATRINA'S BRAIN APPEARS TO GO COMPLETELY ON HOLIDAY BECAUSE SHE'S PRESENTED WITH MOLOCH DISGUISED AS A HUMAN BABY!!!!

(Is a WTF even necessary at this point?)


Following a wordless and oddly moving reunion with Headless, Katrina returns to Fredericks Manor, looking not remotely like it did in her vision. Does this clue her in that things are not what they should be? We don't know, because Katrina's as good an actress as Katia Winter, so, like Henry and Headless, we believe she's been seduced by the illusion. This is a TERRIBLE thing to do to Katrina after a whole episode in which you try to convince us that she's a valuable, if weak, member of the Scooby Gang.

As for the Ichabod-Katrina show, which I'll concede needed attention this season, I don't have the foggiest idea what I'm supposed to think or feel about Ichabod's relationship with Katrina at this point. What I do know is that it is not a satisfying relationship on any level from a storytelling standpoint, which makes the time Ichabod isn't spending with Abbie, the emotional storytelling that isn't going on between those two, so much more incomprehensible, frustrating and disappointing.

Sleepy, I appreciate the feels, but I'm really starting to worry again.