A Bit of Shameless Self-Promotion

Kim Transier of Portland, Oregon writes:

"You know, my interest in and concern for this goddamn show I've never seen really says a lot for your writing ability. Yes, I want the show to be renewed...I want Ichabod and Abbie to go on. And that is entirely the product of your writing."

Sleepy Hollow Episode 2.15: Rise of the Sith

With “Spellcaster,” Albert Kim was put in the unenviable position of having to follow Sleepy Hollow's out-of-the-park “Kali Yuga.” He did a very fine job. Even my husband--who had largely given up on Sleepy Hollow—turned to me at the end of the episode and said, “that was pretty good!” The political reflections were wonderful, the twistory was interesting, intimate, credible and powerful, our heroes got lots of quality time together, Katrina did some magic competently and got out of her corset, Frank was present and accounted for, and our villain was...okay. The theme had some issues, as did the plot, as did the Big Ending, but there was much to admire and celebrate.

This scene brought to you by the firemen of Fahrenheit 451

We're introduced to our villain, warlock Solomon Kent, in the very first scene, set in an auction house. Kent is after a book of evil magic which the house has just acquired. We don't know Kent's name, or the fact that he's a warlock, of course. All we know is that a dude with a cape appears, steals the book, and then proceeds to brutally murder two people using what appears to be magic. One of those killed is either a cop or armed security guard who, unlike the police throughout this country, actually wants to give the man he's pointing a gun at a chance to put down his knife before shooting him. Unfortunately, in Kent's case, that proves to be a big mistake. Huge. Instead of either running away as Kent starts slashing his own wrists (to release blood which then makes his magic more powerful), rushing the thief, or shooting him in the leg, the cop and curator politely stand by waiting for him to kill them.

How has this man not done more comedy?

In a tonal shift which works because we neither know nor care about any of the people in the previous scene, we find Ichabod house-hunting. With Abbie. Not his wife, presumably the person with whom he would share a house, but Abbie. We're introduced to another marvelous day player, Tia Robinson as Keely, your friendly and hilarious real estate agent. The scene is charming. Abbie decodes realtor speak for Ichabod, Mison manages to make a joke simply by squeezing a plastic banana as he begins a diatribe against modern hucksterism (“it's called marketing. People get degrees in it,” Abbie explains), and our two Witnesses discuss Ichabod's penchant for optimism, his dream of one day having his own place “with granite countertops,” as Ichabod falls victim to the realtors' mini-muffins.

The scene was fun, and very well-acted, but struck me as odd. First, I appreciate the effort to get more of Abbie and Crane together, but why is a married man hunting for a house with his professional, as opposed to personal, partner? I mean, I'd love to think This Means Something, but I have no evidence to support that. At least not yet. Second, what was the point of this scene?  A reference to it later in the episode is shoe-horned in to another scene whose point I've yet to ascertain, but on its own, I don't get it.  Why is Crane suddenly longing for a three-bedroom, two-bath Craftsman? What has happened of late to give him reason to hope normality is on the horizon? What's with the emphasis on marketing? Does this later come back to us as part of our theme? (Nope, not that I could tell).

We transition to a very fine exposition scene as soon as our heroes hit the street and the detective work begins.  This week's case is presented believably and clearly.  As we know from the previous scene, someone has killed two people at an auction house and stolen a book which Crane immediately recognizes as The Grand Grimoire, a collection of bad magic spells compiled by John Dee in order to keep them safe (brilliant guy, that Dee. “I know! Let's put all the evil spells in the same place and, rather than destroy them, bind them into a lovely, durable book so that whoever finds it will be able to go Full Voldemort in three easy lessons!”).

Remember this, friends.  Remember she could do this. 

Damn.  I mean, just...damn.

Cut to Katrina practicing her magic in a lovely woodsy setting. In one of Katrina's best moments all series, we are treated to her lifting a Gerbera daisy without using her hands, transforming it from white to red, then taking it completely apart and reassembling it before our eyes using only her magic. When she hands it to her husband, he seems proud, and tenderly holds the flower for the rest of the scene.

Then, to break the figurative spell, out of what really feels to me like far left field but is meant to be a reasonable reaction to Katrina saying that the effects of Moloch's evil may never end, Crane tells her “I know you still mourn our son” so we know that our next scene will show us....


Henry!  Yea!  He's back.  And he's...in a motel??? Watching shit TV (it runs in the family)????? Not killing anyone and almost kinda sorta having a civil conversation with his kind landlady??????? WTF?!?!?!

We are treated to a tender scene between Henry and Mary the landlady, extremely well-played by both actors. John Noble's restraint is a welcome breath of fresh air as he hints at regret for his evil-doing. This seems promising—character development for Henry! I'm thrilled! Miracles abound!

"Pixels.  Right."

Back in the Archives, Crane is suddenly the local expert on witchcraft because fans want to see less of Katrina. (It makes no sense, but, hey, it's better that than the alternative). Among the useful bits of information he gives Abbie is the fact that the chemical found in the blood of our villain left at the scene of the crime, Jinsomweed, is a plant used by witches to enhance their power—the steroids of the magic world. As the Witnesses review what little they can glean from the security cameras at the auction house, Abbie introduces Crane to “pixels” in a delightful scene, extremely well-played by our leads. Fortunately, Abbie has friends at Quantico who just developed a new technology that makes it possible to recreate an image from an imperfect bit of reflection (Abbie, please call Olivia Pope & Associates and let them know about this. They really could have used it in this week's episode of Scandal). Katrina arrives just in time to be useful, takes one look at the computer-generated image, and pronounces our villain one Solomon Kent, the warlock witches most fear.

(Now, I know I'm not supposed to ask questions like this, but sometimes I can't help myself. How the hell does Katrina have the foggiest idea what Solomon Kent looks like? He was committed to purgatory long before she was born, and there weren't any photo studios back in the 17^th century. Did some Puritan commission a portrait of him which the witches of Massachusetts held onto in case he showed up again?).

Cut to Kent vaguely resembling--uncomfortably for my taste--a modern day Lakota sundancer, complete with long black hair and scars all over his buff chest, as he tries to make magic with the Grimoire. He's sufficiently impressive that I'm curious about him, but what's with all the “and now, for my next trick” cape action? I found it distractingly silly.

Act Two arrives, and with it some marvelously written, directed and acted backstory for both Katrina and Kent. Katrina tells us that Kent was a minister in Salem—yep, that Salem, we're finally going there—when her Dutch grandmother arrived in the New World. He was also a warlock, and part of the coven which Katrina's grandmother immigrated specifically to join. Cool!

Katrina REALLY takes after Grandma.

Thus begin a series of marvelous flashbacks. Narratively, they were very strong, but the devil—as a Puritan might say—is in the details. Maybe I've had too much Jimsonweed or something, but I could have sworn Mrs. van Tassel spoke with a Southern accent initially. Her later accent sounds warmly indecipherable, which is an improvement, but still leaves me scratching my head. Katrina speaks with something approximating an English accent, or at least breathy-MidAtlantic, despite being a second-generation American, reared at a time when people like Sleepy's Benjamin Franklin and Abigail Adams were speaking like they'd just exited a Manhattan subway. Perhaps accents are one of those things that, like math, it's best not to examine too closely in Sleepy Hollow. Speaking of math, Katrina's mother appears to have been between 8 and 12 years old at the time of the Salem Witch Trials, yet if Katrina is roughly the same age as Ichabod, she was born in approximately 1750. So her mother didn't give birth to her until she was in her late 50s/early 60s? Are witches like Elves, in that they can still procreate when they're 3000 years old?

Last but certainly not least, Katrina's mother's maternal name is also hers, van Tassel. I can only maybe sorta make sense of this by combining a couple of ideas. Perhaps Katrina's mom became a Quaker after her mother was killed, in which case she would have kept her maiden name (as Quaker women did, back in the day). Then, when Katrina was born, perhaps her mother demanded her daughter take her name and/or, perhaps it's a witch thing, that the girls all take their mother's names? (Though that does strike me as rather dangerous if you're trying to hide the fact that you're a witch. Anyhoo....)

We are introduced to Kent's downfall in the form of lovely Sarah Osbourne, a young woman with whom he is infatuated. Alas, his feelings are not reciprocated, thus, when he makes a pass at her after gifting her with a new, sharp knife (next time, try flowers, Kent), everything goes south and he ends up accidentally stabbing her to death. Now, I don't know what happened with this scene—whether the problems were in the script, the directing, or (as I suspect) the editing demanded by the network--but the confrontation between Kent and Sarah was very poorly explicated visually. I couldn't see at all what had happened when she scratched his face so badly it left a permanent scar, nor could I tell how he managed to stab her with a knife she was holding (not that that's not believable, I just couldn't see it). Also, and I hate to dog make-up because they usually do such a remarkable job on the show, but I could see the outline of the patched-on cheek injury on Kent.

The idea that Kent essentially launched the devastating Salem witch hunt as a cover for his accidental killing of Sarah is very creative and moving, as is the scene between him and Helena van Tassel, when the latter confronts him on what he's done and Kent uses the old Darth Vader, choke-them-from-a-distance trick.  This leads to a beautiful, believable and tragic narrative regarding the witch trials and executions  (and I must say the “witch” make-up on both Sarah and Helena van Tassel was fabulous). These flashbacks are marvelously followed by a brief, meaningful conversation about the Army-Mccarthy hearings and Communist “witch hunt,” complete with both a reference to The Crucible (possibly the best American play ever) and Ichabod gorgeously quoting Edward R. Murrow.

In flashback we see that, for his devastation of the Massachusetts witch community, Katrina's grandmother's coven hunted Kent down and used--spine-tinglingly--Henry's old wrap-em-in-vines tactic to hold him until they could transfer him to purgatory (given all the guest stars showing up whom neither Katrina nor Abbie ever met in purgatory, I'm thinking that place must be HUGE).
Katrina then tells the Witnesses that if she can go to the last place the Grimoire was seen—the auction house--she might be able to track it. Naturally, being Katrina, she fails. But she does procure useful intel anyway, namely that the book Kent now has is incomplete, and therefore won't work due to a spell John Dee sensibly put on it. Abbie figures out that she and Crane need to find the second half of that book before Kent does.

Act Three opens with Irving stalking Abbie. She, to her enormous credit, pulls a gun on him. As he creepily tells her he's forgiven her for not trusting him, he also tells the audience that Katrina has yet to inform at least this Witness that Irving's got a clean soul bill-of-health. When Abbie lets him know, at the end of the scene, that she knew exactly from what distance he'd been stalking her and that his stealth mode was pathetic, I was once again reminded why Abbie Mills is the best female character on TV.

Back at Henry's motel room, we're treated to some more lovely visual poetry as he and Mary's son, Ronnie, discuss their shared love of whittling and antipathy to fathers. Henry's carving another model of St. Henry's Parish, with his knife casually parked in the roof; Ronnie has brought him a soldier wielding a sword, to keep, and the soldier stands before St. Henry's Parish harkening back to Henry's assassination of Moloch not far from the actual church.  Unfortunately, I managed to put all this together only on the second viewing, but the scene stands beautifully without it, a tender exchange which again challenges Henry's commitment to disavow his humanity at all costs.

When Abbie returns to the Archives, she fails to mention to Crane the frankly extraordinary (pardon the pun) fact of Katrina's spiritual diagnosis of Irving. Maybe she thinks Katrina already told him? At any rate, more research believably leads our Witnesses to deduce together that Solomon Kent is seeking the Grimoire in order to bring poor Sarah back from the dead. The Witnesses give us the stakes of this prospect: not only will Sarah's soul be allowed to enter our realm, but all the souls of the dead cold potentially do so (really?). And then we're off to another warehouse to try to intercept the second part of the book, shipped separately from the first and cleverly delayed in transit. (We know Kent will already be there because in Sleepy Hollow it's becoming canon that villains hang out in warehouses).

"This seems like a great time to have an obtuse conversation about our future."

Once at the warehouse, our heroes decide they should take their sweet time trying to find the book and Kent so they can talk about their relationship some more. Unfortunately, unlike last week when the conversation made perfect sense and went somewhere, this was the kind of conversation which, if it ever makes any sense in re: our heroes, will do so only in restrospect, i.e., after we've seen the finale. I think it was also meant to tell us the theme of this week's episode, namely that regret can change the direction of your life, or keep you from having the one you were supposed to have. Abbie jokes to Crane that he has a lot in common with Kent—both are men out of time, devoted to the women they love. Crane is rather horrified by this comparison, and tells Abbie that Kent let his regret over his mistakes turn him into something dark and evil. Abbie reassures her partner that, as she already told him in Episode 2.10, she knows that Crane chose a different path.

Then we're hit in the head with another ball out of left field when Crane asks Abbie, “do you have a vision of the life in store for us?” Excuse me? Where is that coming from? Again, I love how Mison underscores the “us” part of that sentence with his voice, and I'd love to think This Means Something, but wasn't this all discussed three episodes ago in that field at the farm, when they were wrestling with their post-Witness-identities?

Continuing with balls from left field, Abbie goes on to tell us “our enemies are willing to do whatever it takes. We must be willing to do the same,” therefore, no Craftsman houses, no going home to walk your dog, no Little League games, no Girl Scout cookie sales.  Crane, suddenly a bit nervous about his partner's ardor, responds that he “violently agrees, but we don't fight against something – we fight for something. Love, family, a life (granite countertops, a house reeking of mini-muffins)." In case we had any doubt that this is a Portentous Moment in the season, he tells Abbie, “I pray we never lose sight of what's important for that is what drove Kent into darkness.” I'm just going to put a giant flashing neon frame around this piece of dialogue, and add it to our treasure trove of Finale Clues, 'kay?

While I really appreciate our heroes prioritizing their relationship over saving the world, it takes them forever to fail to sneak up on Kent. The Witnesses are attacked almost instantly, knocked on their asses and, presumably, given the dialogue which follows, left unconscious. Gee, this would be a great time for Katrina to show up and do something magical.

Enter Katrina—again, inexplicably, albeit gratifyingly, off-stage until absolutely necessary--with a powerful, lovely shot of lightening from her hands which momentarily stops Kent short.  Yea!!  Katrina's using magic effectively!!  Unfortunately, Katrina's excellent initial volley also proves her last for quite some time. Quite late in the episode this is sort of explained when she tells Crane that magic isn't like a gun, and can't be quickly or easily “reloaded.” For now, we're just left to wonder why, instead of continuing to zap Kent, or at least desperately trying to defeat the guy, she instead has a long dialogue with the man who murdered her grandmother and then tries to get inside her head with “do I sense seeds of darkness within?” Crane and Abbie regain consciousness just in time to hear him utter a strange Aramaic phrase (put a pin in that).

Once Crane and Abbie are awake and up, they two, mysteriously, just watch Kent instead of shooting him. In a spirit of something approximating fair play, he then, rather than killing the three of them, summons two anonymous demons for no other reason than to distract them while he finds part 2 of the spell book and makes the thing whole. So, not unlike in “Kali Yuga,” when Abbie and Ichabod obligingly allowed themselves to be distracted by anonymous vetalas while the real danger proceeded afoot nearby, once again our heroes allow themselves to be drawn away from the real action. This trope is annoying, Sleepy writers, and it's really not working, at least not for me.

Fortunately, one pointless demon is quickly killed by Abbie, who, until Kent, never saw a supernatural villain she wouldn't at least try to shoot. Katrina then inexplicably tells our heroes that she'll stop Kent from assembling the book while Ichabod and Abbie keep the other demon at bay. The Witnesses, even more inexplicably, trust her to actually do so. We're then treated to some long and pointless demon-hunting, the only highlights of which for me were the old ludicrous, mute, military hand-signal thingie finally making it to Sleepy Hollow, listening to Crane try to trash talk a demon (I dunno, Abbie. I thought “curb thy foul stench, unholy minion” was pretty great), and watching a demon waste time doing parkour around the warehouse instead of just attacking our heroes.

(Speaking of wasting time, why are our heroes having a cute moment about trash talk when they should be backing up Katrina against the Most Powerful Warlock in the History of Magic? Oh, right. So she can have another private conversation with Kent about turning to the dark side).

Without backup, Katrina tries to take out Solomon Kent again, this time slowly pulling sand out of her nowhere to entrap him in a sandstorm. It's a valiant, if late, effort, but he easily recovers, attacks her, and again she sits and listens to him go all Palatine on her Anakin, trying to convince her she'll have more power if she moves over to the dark side (guys, if you're going to steal from Star Wars, fine. But we don't steal from Episodes 1-3. Repeat after me: They are not real. They are not canon. They are terrible, collective hallucinations).

For reasons beyond my meager comprehension, Katrina-the-Quaker-and-good-witch-whose-grandmother-was-murdered-by-this-bastard listens to him and tries to go evil, getting Sandman Eyes in the process. In response, delighted Kent says, “there, now you see?” See what? She doesn't actually use that evil power to stop him or do anything for that matter. After what feels like decades, Abbie and Crane catch up with her just after Kent has sashayed unharmed out the door, and Ms. BAMF Abbie-the-cop doesn't even attempt to give chase and shoot him.

Katrina explains that even though she's on her witch moon time, when her powers are at their peak, she still can't defeat the warlock. So, I guess all of Katrina's incompetence thus far is magically washed away with Kent's “you're on the wrong path?” See, Katrina, if only you'd been evil all this time, you could have achieved so much! As after-the-fact tailoring jobs go, this is not one of your best Sleepy writers. I know you're trying to be considerate and helpful and get (mostly) rid of Katrina, but she—after all the shit her character has been through—really deserves a believable descent into darkness.

Back at Corbin's cabin, Katrina's pooped and needs to retire for the evening even though there's still a deadly warlock afoot. She tells her husband the “battle” has taken its toll (...that word, Katrina...I do not think it means what you think it means). When Crane vows to her that he will defeat Kent, his wife seems both oddly unconcerned about her husband, and oddly unappreciative of his willingness to take on a battle which could easily kill him. I get that she's totally absorbed in the disturbing information Solomon Kent just gave her, but still, is it too much to expect a little bit of worry for her beloved?

"Don't you just love how the struggle is driving us all to drink?"

We're then treated to a nice, tense—which side are you on, Frank, which side are you on?--meeting at Mabie's between Irving and Abbie. Orlando Jones, one of the funniest people on TV, gets to be funny (by playing it straight, bless him) bemoaning, “I should have stayed dead,” in response to the horrors of “reality” TV. Abbie tells him he's become the A-Team's local expert on the Undead. He has no intel for her, but he does give her a lovely pep talk, tells her to keep fighting, and jokes about how much dying has jacked him up vis-a-vis his passion for life and the struggle. 

Meanwhile, Henry sees some young thugs with really poor Spanish language skills bullying sweet Ronnie, his fellow whittler. When Ronnie's mother tries to defend him by threatening to call the cops, the thugs back her down, saying cops make a mess and hinting that her son would be as likely to be wounded or killed by them as they would (lovely political statement, there, Mr. Kim).

Upon Abbie's return to the cabin, Crane worries that Katrina's convalescence will weaken them in their fight against Kent. Abbie gorgeously reminds him they managed to defeat all sorts of supernatural baddies without magic before Katrina came along, thank you very much. (I could be wrong, Katrina, but I'm pretty sure Abbie just fired you).

Abbie posits that, since there doesn't seem to be a convention of zombies in town, maybe they judged Kent's intentions erroneously. Since Kent was thoughtful enough to utter that strange phrase back at the warehouse in Aramaic, a language Crane speaks, explaining his true intentions in code, and since Abbie wisely keeps her ancestor Grace Dixon's journal on her person at all times, our Witnesses deduce fairly quickly that Kent isn't trying to resurrect Sarah at all, but to go back in time and stop himself from killing her. This motivation gorgeously provides our villain, Kent, with a lovely bit of complexity: he recognizes the mistakes he made and wants to undo them.

But, more importantly, it introduces time travel as a possibility in Sleepy Hollow! Thanks to Grace's insights and the Grand Grimoire, there's finally a way for Abbie to go back to Crane's world and enjoy the wonders of corsets and slavery! Huzzah! Nail-bitingly this also means we could get an entire reboot of the series, ala the new Star Trek timeline/storyline (also brought to us by Orci and Kurtzman). Mind you, I LOVE the new Star Trek timeline/storyline, so who am I to fret? 

Abbie figures out where Kent's going to attempt his quantum leap—at the convergence of the ley lines, of course, home to such great Witness memories as Crane leaving Abbie in purgatory, Henry burying Crane alive, Moloch nearly bringing about the End Days, etc., etc.--and helps Ichabod figure out the when: midnight of the night of Perigean tide, aka tonight, when his power will be strongest.

All of this exposition is handled deftly, but once Irving enters the scene it gets both really good, in terms of performance, and really weird, in terms of text. Mison's performance as a man confused, concerned, but trusting his partner vis-a-vis Frank is wholly believable, and also makes it quite clear that Katrina hasn't told him about Frank's supposed clean bill of spiritual health either. However, the actual text of this scene made no sense to me. Crane tells Abbie and Frank that Katrina's magic, which briefly felled Kent earlier, comes from the elements—wind, rain, lightening—and Abbie quickly deduces how to make magic out of that in the present day—generators, firehoses, etc. Fine. Fast, but fine. But then, Abbie tells Ichabod he and Frank should “figure out who's going to man the equipment” for their confrontation with Kent, while she “gets ready” to face him. Excuse me, but, what does that entail exactly, Abbie getting ready to face a foe? When has she ever needed to “get ready”? Does she want to fix her make-up? Pray? Get her head on straight (her head's always on straight)?

I guess the question really should be, what would that have meant if Crane didn't then insist that he would be the one to confront Kent. Why? He tells Abbie “you asked me before about my commitment to the cause.” Um, when?  She protests that he doesn't have to prove anything to her, to which he, incomprehensibly replies, “No, I do not. I will prove it to Kent.”

Huh?!?!

Back to those miserable ley lines, where Kent and his cape begin his spell to travel back in time.  In a moving moment, we see his pain as he catches sight of Sarah in a hologram of the past. But then one of our team throws a flashbang at him to interrupt his spell and Crane moves in. After brief trash talk, Crane fires his bow at Kent and then turns and runs away as Kent fires back. No matter the reason—and I totally get the reason—that is not the image one wants to see of one's hero.

Crane tells Kent that his magical power can be used against him, and Irving fires a dart full of concentrated Jimsonweed at him--better living through chemistry.  Crane graciously explains to Kent that his magical steroid can causes seizures and hallucinations at high doses. Once Kent stumbles into a puddle, Abbie considerately waits for her partner to conclude his exposition to the villain as to how exactly he will be defeated before flipping on the generator to electrocute him: “Your magic is vulnerable to elemental energy, such as lightening," Crane explains.  "And in the 21^st century we make our own lightening.” Gorgeously delivered line, but, um, what do you mean, 'we,' white man?

In the moments which follow, I find Ichabod far scarier than Kent. Literally kicking a man when he's down, then punching him not once but five times, our hero behaves with uncharacteristic dishonor and poorly explicated rage. When it takes a cop to pull our hero off the drugged, electrocuted, completely unresisting villain, said hero gets a serious “bad” mark in my book.

On the other hand, why our Witnesses run off in search of Irving without making sure the defeated warlock is either restrained or dead makes no sense to me either. The second they're out of the picture, Irving—playing the mustachioed villain of yore—enters stage left, takes the spell book from the warlock, and then snaps the warlock's neck for good measure. Conveniently, Kent dematerializes as soon as he's dead (I guess he really was a Jedi). Good detective Crane asks about the Grimoire. When Irving says it “must have been on his body, destroyed with him,” you can actually hear the incredulity in Crane's face as he looks to Abbie to see if she's buying this story (magnificent, Mr. Mison). Abbie's physical reaction makes it abundantly clear she isn't. So why does she cover that with “damned right, it was” and a smile in response to Irving's “this was a good win”? Are she and Ichabod just pretending to trust Frank? Are they trying to put him at ease, make him think they're all good? I'm very curious to see how this plays out because there's no way the Sleepy writers would let Abbie and Crane be that gullible.  (Would you?).

Though our villain-of-the-week's story was resolved at the end of Act Five, in Act Six we are introduced or reintroduced to not one but three potential ongoing Sleepy Hollow villains. But not before a disturbing Witness recap back at the cabin. “You surprised me, Crane, going all Rambo out there,” Abbie tells Ichabod, smiling like she thinks it was hot. Ewww. Then Crane goes on to explain that his mad bashing of the downed warlock wasn't just about protecting Katrina (and presumably avenging her grandmother), but about him being disturbed both by the realization of how easily one could turn on all those who trust him, and by Abbie's having compared him to the murderous warlock earlier in the episode (despite the fact that her comparison had nothing to do with that aspect of Kent's being). His conclusion that “we are all of us walking a razor's edge between darkness and light,” is beautifully written, entirely on point, and beautifully delivered, but seriously Crane? You demonstrate your concern that a hero could easily become a villain by acting like a monstrous dick?

(The hints from our writers that they're planning a turn for Crane have gotten a lot less subtle as the season's worn on, leading me to suspect this is all just one big red herring.  But maybe not).    

Abbie's had enough of Crane's dour reflections. She wants a beer, so much so that even graciously invites the wife, but Crane ecstatically assures her Katrina doesn't want to be disturbed. On their way out the door, Crane asks Abbie if the epithets he hurled at Kent during battle was “good trash talk.” Sigh.  Crane never hurled a single epithet at Kent during the battle. He said a lot of things, but no epithets were harmed in the filming of that scene. Albert Kim is a brilliant guy. He knows what an epithet is, so I can only assume that this is piss-poor editing.

In our climax full of “reveals,” we learn that Henry plans to stick with the dark side, Irving's batting for Team Evil after all, and Katrina, the Quaker, who once said “I fight for the conviction that every life is precious” is willing to experiment with evil magic at the expense of a life. I'll take each of these frustrating scenes in turn.

Ruh-roh.

First we get Katrina, who—to no one's surprise, but to this fan's horror—takes advantage of the first bit of privacy she gets to practice bad magic. Left alone to rest by a husband who clearly can't wait to get out the door with the woman he actually loves, she decides to use her 105^th convalescence this season to disintegrate a Gerbera daisy. Why, instead of using the apex of her magic moon-time to liberate Abraham from the Horseman of Death she is instead happily blowing up the symbol of her aroused genitalia she offered her husband earlier in the day, I have absolutely no clue (though, I have to say, as an Ichabbie shipper, I do love the symbolism).

How is it possible that her goal to separate Abraham from Headless hasn't even been mentioned since it was put forth in Episode 2.12? Are we to assume the Horseman of Death is fine with her taking her sweet time to work her magic, refraining indefinitely from taking lives (well, killing people is his job description, and he is in love with “what's-my-job-again?” Katrina, so...maybe?)? Is experimenting with flowers—using good or bad magic—really more important than trying to liberate her former fiance's soul from the avatar of Death? I don't care how rusty her powers may have gotten in purgatory. Priorities, Katrina. You really need to check your to-do list more often. (You too, Headless).

As for her much anticipated turn to the dark side, I must be the most naïve of all Sleepy Hollow fans because even though I ship Ichabbie wholly, and even though I've been driven mad by the lack of character development in Katrina, I have never thought she was evil. To me, a woman who strives to see and save the humanity in fallen souls is not evil but a “reformer,” exactly what Abbie insists the Witnesses are not. She is a brave person who is capable, despite everything she has survived, of seeing the good in people. She's so friggin' good it's annoying, but it ain't evil. Is Katrina incompetent? Absolutely. Boring? You betcha. Dishonest? Sure, at times. Evil? Not buying it. Even if she dabbles in the dark side, unless the writers give her a credible “fall” (or, preferably, a more meaningful arc of evil than, “I'm not super competent as a good witch so now I'll be a bad witch, okaythanksbye”), I don't see it happening. Especially since it's what the fandom sees coming and we know how the Sleepy writers love to mess with our heads about what we think we know.

Next we get Henry, after a one episode arc, returning to his work as Head Evil Honcho. While I loved the subtlety with which John Noble expressed his uncertainty about his path, the writing and directing of his hesitation seemed so faint to me as to be almost invisible. Giving Henry an arc of regret is awesome, but his character deserves way, way, way, way more than one episode of minimalist storytelling to show him wrestling with his nature. This fan really needed to see Henry struggling with his identity, his character rendered more complex (i.e. interesting), after his assassination of Moloch; the toe-dipping we got in this episode was wholly unsatisfying.

Moreover, I'm quite confused by his exposition in his final scene, when he kills the three men who had been bullying Ronnie and his mother. Following in the tradition of all good villains he explains his motivation before killing them. Henry tells them that, after he killed his father (Moloch) he was filled with crushing regret, considered a normal life like Mary and Ronnie have, but is now clear he wants none of it. Now, walk with me. Because he killed the previous incarnation of Evil, he was filled with regret so he considered a nice, simple normal life of humanity?  He felt so bad over destroying an agent of evil, thereby saving the lives of millions of innocents, that he wanted to be good? What am I missing here?

Also, the sheep and the wolves metaphor—beautifully delivered by Noble—is particularly weird in this context since, in this scene--as in the climactic scene with Moloch--Henry proves himself not a wolf devouring sheep (which would be what wolves do) but a wolf devouring other wolves in defense of people he probably considers sheep. Well, maybe Henry is going to end up having a more interesting arc than it seems on the surface.

"The boys are back in town, boys are back in town..."

We close with a lovely aereal shot that looks borrowed from The Two Towers' B-roll, and a final scene in the forest between Henry and...surprise! Irving! Oh, wait. Not a surprise, because he's been dropping hella hints all through the episode that he's at the very least a double agent. That said, I'm not buying his turn either. One does not simply fall due to a legal technicality; the Greeks, the Elizabethans—even Boromir--were all very clear on that. For a heroic character to fall, he must have motivation, preferably rooted in a character flaw; his fall must be a choice. Irving never chose to sign over his soul to Henry. Obviously all the Sleepy writers know that, which means Irving can't be batting for Team Evil. No way. He's infiltrated Team Evil because a) he gets to be sort of alive again and b) Katrina sucked as a spy and he thinks the A-Team deserves a fighting chance in that regard. (Or, at worst, Orion resurrected him while Henry was busy watching The Price is Right, and now Irving's actually secretly working for Team Orion, making this a dual-front war. But again, his motivation would need to be clear and present).

I really, really appreciate the extent to which the writers are responding to fan concerns. I just hope in the last episodes of the season it can be done in a way which doesn't sacrifice believable character arcs or story. I'm super excited about the last three episodes. Something tells me the writers are planning to blow our brains out with this year's finale, and I really can't wait!

Sleepy Hollow Episode 2.14: Proud Sleepy Hollow Fans Keep On Burnin'!

Team Stop-the-Apocalypse: The Album Cover.
Not shown: astonishing Abbie Mills on vocals

With "Kali Yuga," Heather V. Regnier, Sam Chalsen, Nelson Greaves sent Sleepy Hollow fans our second gorgeous love letter of the season. I don't know if the “old” Sleepy Hollow is back, but this version of the new Sleepy Hollow is definitely on the right track. Strong consistently throughout, with the relationship between Abbie and Crane front and center, “Kali Yuga” delivered where it was most necessary: our beloved supernatural detectives working together and, with tension and believability, showing us how much they really need and desperately love each other.

And you gave us Nicole Beharie and Tom Mison singing. Really, what more could a fan girl want?

Well, more of Jenny for starters, which we got, being not only badass, but also tender and caring about Hawley (in a way that felt real and believable), whilst playing Relationship Counselor Par Excellence for Abbie and Crane.

More of Irving, which we also got, getting to play husband to a still-creeped-out Cynthia, and continuing with his awesome journey of What the Hell Kind of Undead Am I?

Less, but better, of Katrina, which we got, in two scenes where she managed in her short time on-screen to prove powerful and mildly interesting, with a brief, long-awaited return to her days of proto-feminism, and in a terrifyingly portentous scene with Irving.

Hawley having a point and a likeable character, which we got in spades. 

Did I mention Abbie and Crane sing a duet of “Proud Mary” near the end? And that Nicole Beharie sings spell-bindingly beautifully, and Tom Mison has a voice deeper than God's?

So, yeah, I'm kinda fan-girling all over the place for this one. Thank you so much, Sleepy writers, directors, actors, crew, and Fox!!

Entirety of "Proud Mary" on the DVD, please!?!?!

The episode starts off swinging with Nicole “how-has-Broadway-not-swallowed-this-woman-whole-yet?” Beharie singing Gnarls Barkley's “Crazy.” In character as Abbie, she sings so magnificently it took me a while to get the joke of a woman who has feared mental illness her whole life singing “maybe I'm crazy...probably.” The utterly enchanted look on Ichabod's face as he listens to her croon gives us good reason to believe Things Are Getting Better in Sleepyville. We then get Jenny playing relationship counselor, with Ichabod unconvincingly trying to reassure Jenny that everything's fine between him and her sister, whilst absolutely adorably asking, “did she say something?”

A brief discussion of Crane's karaoke choices introduces us to “the Beatles of the 1760s,” the Catch Club. “Women swooned at the sound of their warbling.” Yeah, there's a lot of that going around, Crane. When Hawley takes his leave to go “see a guy about a thing,” this time we learn who the guy and the thing are, so we know something is afoot. Unfortunately, we leave our beloved trio at the bar to follow Hawley, but the scene is necessary to our A-story, and very well-written and played. In a variation of the junkyard where Walter White made some of his early deals, we learn that Hawley has been set up, and is instead having an uncomfortable family reunion with the woman who took him in after his parents were killed in a car accident. We're given some well-done Hawley backstory and introduced to our villain: a beautiful, frightening force of nature who wants Hawley to help her with a (clearly illegal and dangerous) “job.” Hawley's not remotely interested until his former foster mom transforms into a terrifying creature who makes it very clear this is an offer he can't refuse.

Back at the bar, Jenny's relationship counseling for Abbie and Crane believably continues as Mison's Ichabod sings an old sea shanty about a young sailor who dies of syphillus. I have to admit, I could never have imagined the Ichabod Crane we met last season, a nobleman's son and proud Revolutionary War hero, getting up in front of a room of strangers and singing anything, let alone a song about venereal disease that has him pronouncing the word “day” like he's Cockney.  But given that Ich has had a few drinks, given that Abbie went first and he is a chivalrous lad who would never hang his partner out to dry, alone in karaoke-land, and given that it's really not that hard to imagine a drunken Ichabod singing pub songs with his fellow officers in their rare off moments, the scene works. As does Mison's hilarious articulation of the title of Britney Spears' hit “Oops, I Did It Again” whilst reading the karaoke catalogue. And did I mention we get to hear Tom Mison sing? Thud.

Abbie's tender concern for and support of Ichabod are spot-on and wonderful--“cheer loudly for him, he's been through the wringer lately.” It also lays a comforting bed for Nicole Beharie's perfectly-delivered “we're fine” later in the scene, which tells us our heroes are anything but.

As the gang realizes Man-of-His-Word-Hawley is MIA and there's been a break-in at the archives, the detective work begins. But not before they encounter Hawley's very scary foster mom tricked out in full-on monster mode, down in the tunnels. Hawley, meanwhile, begins a beautiful, episode-long arc of becoming a truly decent human being by trying to take a bullet for the team.

In a somewhat confusing courtroom scene, we are treated to Cynthia classily standing up for herself to a pissy (woman) judge, Frank defending her with total respect, and Orlando Jones playing perfectly straight “I tried going with an outside firm. It didn't go so well.” The judge is so focused on Irving's lawyer, the actual dropping of the charges is never explained (as it was never intended to be, in this episode), which, although I understand why necessary, felt confusing and held me back a bit from running with the Irvings' joy at Frank finally being, ahem, free.

As the A-Team tries to figure out who the scary creature in the tunnels was and why on earth Hawley is with her, more of Ichabod and Abbie's relationship travails are believably interwoven with the A-Story. Abbie, the Smartest Gal in the Room, has already gotten back the lab results on the goo that oozed from the monster's fingernails, allowing Ichabod, the Smartest Guy in the Room, to figure out this means she's a vetala, a form of undead in service to Kali, goddess of destruction. When Jenny asks, “how did Hawley get involved with a vetala?” Abbie's, “this is a guy who went home with a succubus, remember?” is perfect.

Disagreements between the Witnesses on how to proceed continue to underscore the tensions between them. When Crane suggests they “divide and conquer” in order to a) find Hawley, b) figure out what he and the vetala are up to, it's quite obvious that Abbie isn't happy with this idea, but only Jenny, on behalf of the audience, keeps reminding Abbie and Crane that they need to get their relationship shit together. Interestingly, this is the second time this season this phrase, “divide and conquer,” has been used in such a context and I cannot think that's unintentional. The first time was in Raven Metzner's gorgeous “The Weeping Lady,” episode 2.5. I wrongly accused Mr. Metzner of misusing the phrase—sorry, Mr. Metzner, my bad—thinking our characters were applying it to themselves rather than the list of library sources to check. In that episode, we saw quite clearly that when our Witnesses separate, one of them could easily end up dead.

The fact that this phrase comes up again, and in Latin no less; the fact that Jenny makes a point of asking whether the Witnesses really are better without each other; the conversation between our leads all episode rightly concerning the sturdiness of their bond; the fact that all season Ichabod keeps insisting their bond is unbreakable whilst behaving somewhat otherwise; and the fact that the finale is coming up, all combine to scare the heck out of me--in a good way.

All these scenes in which the lack of teamwork/communication between Abbie and Crane is highlighted are just so damned well-written, well-directed, and well-acted. The pacing is good, the evolution of the tensions—verbal and especially non-verbal--and attempts at resolving them are restrained, yet spot-on. And ultimately, the tenderness between the Witnesses is a delicious drink of fresh water after a nearly season-long drought. Thank you so much for this. It made the episode meaty and meaningful and real.

On the beat together, Jenny and Abbie confront fence McKenna at his pawnshop. Jenny's bad cop to Abbie's good shows us why these two are an awesome team. They also get McKenna, believably, to tell us into whose hands he betrayed Hawley—a scary killer, named Carmilla.

In the archives, with Ichabod, we get to see some of the old spunky proto-feminist Katrina calling out Mary Poppins for not being progressive. Aside from the absolute delight of hearing Ichabod describe “Miss Poppins” as a modern witch, it's great to hear Katrina make it very clear to her husband that her idea of being a modern witch does not include using her powers for housekeeping, thank you very much. Mind you, Katrina, you'd be a lot more convincing if you weren't still wearing a corset.

When Crane finds the sigil Orion left for Abbie, his heartbreaking awareness that she's been keeping it from him is played with powerful restraint by Mison. In between all these feels, Crane also figures out that Hawley stole the plans to Theodore Knox's estate from the archives (they must have one hell of an inventory system in that place).  Rewardingly, when Jenny and Abbie return, all of Team Stop-the-Apocalypse represents in this scene, as Crane tells us that back in the day, Knox's ancestor and the Sons of Liberty kept a hoard of weapons cached at the estate for the Revolutionaries, Katrina tells us those weapons were extremely dangerous, and Jenny complements this intel with the fact that in the present day Mr. Knox collects and keeps an impressive array of supernatural weapons.

In a well-handled exposition scene between Hawley and Carmilla, Camilla uses the oldest and most powerful weapon in a mother's war chest—guilt--to convince her foster son to help her. Telling him that she was turned into a vetala by a death cult in India whilst looking for him, and that an artifact in Knox's possession can turn her back into a human, she persuades Hawley to assist her with the heist.

So, while Katrina mysteriously evaporates from the group (no mystery, really; we're trying to keep Sleepy Hollow on the air, after all), Crane somehow steals Hawley's Mustang and our beloved trio is soon speeding towards a weird party/supernatural-stuff-swap-meet happening at the Knox estate that evening (why they didn't just take Abbie's SUV I have no idea. Nor do I care). Jenny's exposition about the party and why it would make a great cover for a heist is gorgeously buried in a very entertaining scene of horsepower-enraptured-Crane trying to impress the Mills sisters.

At the estate, Abbie fabulously grabs a drink the second she's out of the car, and our team divides to follow the divided Hawley and Carmilla. Jenny, Hawley's loyal buddy-with-benefits, follows him to a safe in which we are treated to one of the coolest things the Sleepy writers/set designers/director have come up with yet in this show: a Revolutionary-era-built safe, comprised of the entire house, and the mechanical processes needed to open its vault. It is visually stunning, intellectually fascinating, and I can't even begin to imagine how the whole thing was conceived. In fact, I'm so impressed, I'm not even going to ask how in the hell Hawley knew what the combination was (even if it was on the architectural drawings, seriously, it hasn't changed in 200 years?).

Abbie and Crane have another of their miscues when Crane's crossbow catches the attention of Theodore Knox himself, and our hero is waylaid by a conversation about old-timey-stuff he would normally relish, but not right now, thanks. Without backup, Abbie confronts Carmilla down near the safe (you have to love a villain who won't even put down her champagne glass to search for the Kali statue she plans to steal). Naturally the vetala gets the better of her. Enter Crane, crossbow armed, demanding Abbie's release.

"'Swounds, villainess!  Why must you take such cruel
advantage of my honorable warning to
threaten my most cherished Leftenant?!!"

Alas, Carmilla's deadly-venom-saturated-fingernails are at Abbie's throat as soon as Crane makes his polite demand. Twice in this episode, Crane-the-gentleman overtakes the brain of Crane-the-soldier as he insists on warning the vetala before shooting her. As a result, the vetala has plenty of time to create situations, both times, which make it impossible for him to actually do so. 'Splain, Sleepy writers. I appreciate his chivalry, but not his idiocy.

Fortunately, Hawley arrives in time to save our heroes. Throughout this episode, Matt Barr is very moving as a man who, despite himself, has grown to care deeply about his crazy adopted Sleepy Hollow family, so much so that he's willing not only to sacrifice himself to protect them, but to sacrifice their respect for him. It's heartbreaking that Crane doesn't get what Hawley is doing by negotiating Crane's and Abbie's imprisoning in the safe (as opposed to Carmilla killing them), and that it requires Hawley in turn denying that Crane's assumption of his decency was accurate.

I said it before, and I'll say it again: when you're a man
instead of a dude, Hawley, you're not half bad.

The most important scene of the episode takes place in Knox's safe. Continuing with Sleepy Hollow's adorable tradition of characters saving their most challenging relationship conversations for moments when their lives are at stake, Crane and Abbie make good use of their time sharing a confined space to discuss the fissures in their communication, and, potentially, their relationship. The entire scene is beautifully written and very well-executed. When our heroes get to the pained place of questioning whether their relationship is and can be as strong as it once was, I sighed with perfect contentment. YES! This is what we've needed all season! Use of camera-movement, while not my favorite technique, keeps the scene from feeling static, and keeps the tension high even while our characters discuss their issues with the utmost maturity.

The walls of the safe closing in works precisely because Abbie makes a delightful Star Wars reference (mega-props to mega-geek-Mison for believably playing a man who has never seen the film). The slightly meta “are you having a moment?,” when Crane begins to realize how they might be saved, is a wonderful reflection of the short-hand that has developed between these two, as well as a tender and welcome wink to us fans. I love that once Ichabod deduces how to save them, he picks the wrong knob first time through by relying solely on rational deduction; it takes Abbie reminding him to think in terms of Knox's heart, not mind, to find the correct answer. Their complementarity and necessity to one another is gorgeously underscored, such that the glance-as-fist-bump between the two, once he succeeds, lands perfectly.

Jenny, of course, has already freed herself from the closet in which Hawley locked her by the time Crane and Abbie re-surface at the party. Because, unlike our rogue privateer, Crane and Abbie actually know what Carmilla intends with the Kali statue she stole—namely, to turn Hawley and anyone else she can into vetalas—the Scooby Gang wastes no time tracking Hawley through Jenny's cell phone, which he thoughtfully stole whilst imprisoning her.

Once they make it to the warehouse Carmilla is using as a ceremonial staging ground (still more warehouses; obviously she's working with Henry), Jenny volunteers to do a sweep of the perimeter while Crane and Abbie figure out how to defeat Carmilla. This scene would be ludicrous if it weren't so delightful. Actually, it's probably ludicrous anyway.  Making use of Crane's eidetic memory and Mison's long, lovely fingers (many “hand-porn” GIFs to follow from this, I fear), and Abbie's Hindu knowledge gleaned from yoga class (nice to see at least some folks ground their practice in knowledge of its spiritual components), they deduce with magnificent ease and followable (kinda justa barely) logic that iron and fire will defeat their opponent. And we get treated to a call back to Episode 2.6 with Ichabod assuring us that we will (sigh) never again see him in yoga wear. Bummer.

Goodbye for now, Mr. Barr.  We'll miss you.
And your magnificent abs.  

The climactic fight scene in Carmilla's lair was edited and directed very creatively. What might have been a rather static scene is instead made terrifying, if somewhat confusing, with the use of cuts, camera foci, and movement of shots. I really thought for a while there Carmilla might succeed in making Hawley into a vetala before our heroes rescued him (since they spent FOREVER fighting off the newly minted vetalas while Carmilla continued working on changing Hawley). Fortunately, Carmilla escapes before she can be destroyed, so we have another potential finale guest star to add to our list (are you keeping track? So far that's the Kindred, Orion, and the vetala who could reappear, and that's just the folks we know have corporeal form).

Back at the bar for our Witness wrap-up, Ichabod finally acknowledges that his and Abbie's relationship needs tending, care, attention, and date nights. Honestly, it's enough to make a fangirl weep. Abbie's way ahead of him, has already signed them up to karaoke a duet, and Crane gamely follows her to the stage to sing a song he's never sung before in his life.

"Ichabod is completely in love with Abbie," Tom Mison
tells us.  Och, truer words were never spoken, lad.

Somehow the actors and the director managed to make it totally believable that with just a little initial help from Abbie, Crane could pick up the tune and sing it perfectly. As a result, the duet between our leads is nothing short of gorgeous. It's a sweet, sweet lovesong to the fans, and we thank you for it. Despite her phenomenal voice, Beharie very graciously yields much of “Proud Mary”'s “floor” to Mison, whose Ichabod hams it up a bit, as he introduces us to a voice that clearly wants to be Paul Robeson's when it grows up.

I was having so much fun with Abbie and Crane hanging out in Mabie's together, it wasn't until after I'd seen the episode that it occurred to me to wonder, where is Katrina when these after-work bonding sessions are playing out? Don't get me wrong; I'm quite grateful the wife doesn't get invited, but I am curious as to how she and Crane have worked that out. It's not like Katrina's never been to a bar before (in Episode 2.10 we saw that, even back in the day, she was quite willing to step inside a tavern), and I can't imagine she's excited about her husband's work dates with his partner, given that his partner is a stunningly gorgeous, single woman.

After an entire episode spent making us grow to both respect and actually like Hawley, our charming rogue privateer takes his leave of Sleepy Hollow in a tender, but appropriately restrained, farewell scene between him and Jenny. Thank you so much Sleepy writers for making us really like Hawley before sending him off to go hunt his undead foster mother. Now if you decide to bring him back we might actually be glad to see him!

Yea!!  Katrina is powerful!  And scary! And (boo!)
still in that goddamned corset!!  

As for Mrs Crane, maybe it's just that Katrina has too many witch-gigs lined up to have time for pub-crawling. Katia Winter delightfully plays Katrina as both a powerful and rather scary witch, as she supposedly “helps” Irving learn whether he is, in fact, still tied to the Horseman of War (whom she, with charming obsessiveness, still insists on calling her son). When Irving hugs Cynthia with grateful relief that he is both alive (despite having died in Episode 2.11) and his soul is supposedly no longer tied to the Horseman of War, he sees in the cabin's window a reflection of his and Cynthia's embrace-- that doesn't include him! Eeek!!! What kind of Undead is Irving?!? This is a cool ending, but frankly, it's rather anti-climactic after Katrina's deliciously creepy work with the bedeviled police captain. The real meat of this scene is the fact that, played with marvelous non-verbals by Katia Winter, we see that something is going on with Katrina which will gravely affect events as the season progresses. I can't wait!

Fabulous job, Sleepy peeps, all-around! I feel very hopeful about the rest of the season!