The Fringe Division: Bad-Asses All Day

Maybe it's just because I watched these episodes knowing that I'd be writing my next Marathon Diary installment -- the very one you are currently enjoying, dear reader -- at the end of Bad-Ass Week, but it seemed like this run of episodes offered pretty nice showcases for the bad-ass talents of both Olivia and my beloved Walter. Which is refreshing because, on just about any other show of this ilk, it would be Olivia's dude partner and taciturn boss who'd be driving the action -- the latter because he's played by Lance Reddick and the former because he's a dude.

And sure, every character Lance Reddick plays is, by default, a bad-ass, from Cedric Daniels to Voodoo Satan to this weirdo. But even Broyles's big showcase episode, "Earthling," was mostly about one of his most deeply regretted failures; these days, he's showing how he's learned that, in the Fringe Division, the best way he can be a bad-ass is to stand aside and let the real heroes be heroic.

Meanwhile, there's Peter. I gather there was a note at some point about making the show explicitly more X-Files-y, and since the most obvious dyad was Peter and Olivia, they decided to edge out Charlie and thus create more pretexts for Olivia and Peter to go places together -- and I'm fine with all of that, particularly since the show's producers are apparently smart enough to keep their relationship from getting romantic (and lord, if it turns out I'm wrong about that, please don't tell me, I mean it). But even with all the attempts to raise Peter's status from Walter's generally pissy caretaker -- to contrive reasons for Peter to be carrying a gun sometimes, for example -- there's no way to make him anything close to Olivia's equal. Like, when they go to Seattle together in "Dream Logic" and confer about evidence that's come in after they both put on their jammies, she can't help reminding him that even if they're both in t-shirts from their alma maters, she's the only one who graduated. Peter has a lot of useful skills -- he can pick locks, introduce Olivia to sketchy underworld types who owe him favours, and roll a coin over his knuckles. But he's not half the person that military veteran, Marine prosecutor, and all-around bad-ass Olivia is -- and, to his credit, at least he knows it. That didn't stop him buying a hideous overcompensation of a tough-guy leather coat, though.

Broyles and Peter are valuable support members of the team -- that is, when Peter's not a liability, falling prey to a mind-controlling teen or Hulking out from some crazy virus. But Walter and Olivia are the bad-asses that keep this story going, and I like them even better now that they're bound by their horrible secret. Some guy's going to pop out of a van with two guns aimed at Olivia?

She's going to take him out with one shot, actually. Some immortal Nazi is going to try to create a master race using microtargeted disease? Nope, Walter's going to micro-target THAT guy and see how he likes it. (Not much! He dies horribly.)

Also there's that whole thing where Walter figured out not only how to watch the alternate universe (specifically Walternate, tee hee) but cross over into it and make it back alive, something that only a tiny handful of people we know of, so far, can do. Walter may not have the enforcement power Olivia does -- exception noted: immortal Nazis -- but he's a bad-ass nerd. Maybe not a bad-ass of ethics.

Bad-asses aside, this was a pretty fun fourteen-episode Fringe jam, even if the production's relocation from New York to Vancouver while keeping some of the same sets is just slightly disorienting...though it kind of seems like just another way to make the actual experience of watching the show kind of Fringe-y in and of itself. I'm still fascinated by the unfolding Cortexifan backstory, and Olivia's use of the term "Cortexifan kids" in "Olivia. In the Lab. With the Revolver" made me even more disappointed with James Heath's killing spree since it prevents them from joining back up and becoming Fringe's answer to the X-Men. And since we're on the subject of that episode: it was a very nice if on-the-nose gesture for Sam to bring by Clue for them to play EXCEPT YOU CAN'T PLAY CLUE WITH TWO PEOPLE, PEOPLE.

This factual issue was so upsetting to me that it almost erased the joy I experienced watching "Peter"'s special 1985-vintage credits.

Just kidding, nothing could. They're gorgeous.

Most Horrifying Indignity Visited Upon A Human Body Part: I thought all the huge parasites crawling out of people's mouths (yes, again) in "Snakehead" were pretty bad until I discovered there's something worse than losing half your body to a portal between universes.

And it's getting mashed up with the version of yourself from the other universe (including his pants, apparently) plus a girder, and when I say "mashed up" I mean mashed UP.

"Be careful with this guy: he seems nice but he's a real two-face." - this dude's co-workers. Just kidding! They all died.

Favourite Character Actor From The HITG! Pantheon: Before he was giving gross old closet cases lapdances on Shameless, Cameron Monaghan was a troubled teen who got really good at mind control thanks to his Massive Dynamic employee dad's shady tests.

Heartbreakingest Walter Moment: There's certainly no shortage of heartbreak surrounding the whole dead Peter exchange program, but I was still more affected by the moment in "Snakehead" when Walter thinks he's been having an independent, self-sufficient outing which he's agreed to let Astrid join, only to get separated from her in a bustling market, spend all his change trying and failing to call Peter on a PAY PHONE (unpinch a penny and buy the man at least a damn flip phone, Broyles, damn), and end up confused and weeping at a bus stop with a woman who doesn't speak English.

No kidding: rewatching this scene to cap that shot of Walter almost made me cry again -- AND THE SCENE WAS ON MUTE. So I guess I have to add "Walter Bishop in distress" to the list of things that will literally always make me cry -- a list that also includes "little kids playing music"; "when Courtney yells 'Second place, hell yeah!' at the end of Bring It On"; and "literally any kind of dance performance with more than two people."