Monsters of Television

“No, it’s you AND me. And we’re going to blow up that train.”

Even post-Blackout, no one wants a piece of Canada.

I don’t like the idea of comparing this show to Lost. Mostly because I don’t think it actually competes but also because I don’t believe it’s an apples to apples comparison. They share many of the same traits (mystery for which answers are provided in small tastes, adventuring without the benefit of modern conveniences, castmembers that look really good in tight shirts) but Revolution feels, somehow, much more straightforward. Maybe because we know upfront that the answer isn’t magic.

It’s not necessarily a bad thing for the show to be more straightforward in terms of learning curve. Lost‘s complicated story, with its myriad offshoots and complexities, creating diminishing returns when people would hear the hype and try to jump in. If only they’d thought of putting the series on Netflix like they did with Breaking Bad. But, with Revolution, we have a short introduction in the beginning of every episode that contains all you really need to know about the show to continue.

Sure, Lost had a Previously On but, from how many people still today ask “What was up with the polar bear?” (despite the answer coming in Season 3), we have a bit of disconnect between the important events for an episode and seasons of mythology. Revolution may be new but, as long as it’s contained in this box, it might actually learn from the mistakes of the learning curve that Lost suffered in the ratings.

Now, if they could only get me to care about the concerns of these characters.

When Aaron and Charlie stand over Maggie’s grave like a couple of sulky dopes, I feel Miles’s sentiment. They spend a long time mourning the loss of a woman that had very little impact on their lives. Before Neville’s men killed Ben, they were just having a discussion where Charlie debated the Maggie’s status within their family, making it sound like her addition is relatively new. But here she is, standing over her in grief. Charlie didn’t even wait until her father’s body was cold before questing for Miles but she stands still over Maggie for 30 minutes after she’s buried. Come on now.

But I suppose that kind of thinking grates against my ever-solidfying theory that Charlie is the truest protagonist on the show. Miles is the clear hero, a man searching for redemption and the mightiest threat to the oppressive regime. Charlie may have been presented as the character with whom we’re supposed to empathize but she just gets in the way. A lot. Consider, just from this episode:

• Charlie hangs out over the grave, keeping the group from moving on.
• Charlie spies and covers well when she’s caught snooping but then trails Neville like a doofus and gets caught, forcing Miles to reveal himself.
• Charlie interviews “Nate” out of the cage and lets him get away (well, everyone lets him get away — but you just kind of know that decision to let him out was Charlie’s).
• Charlie motions to her brother to enact a plan before actually checking to see if she can do her part, which leads to them both getting captured.

None of which would be so bad if she didn’t have to be saved every time. The campaign to rescue Danny may be a good motivation for Miles to deal with what he has wrought and to drive the team forward, but I have a feeling that actually finding him is going to become secondary to either (a) Miles taking down Monroe or (b) Miles and company joining up with the resistance. It just doesn’t seem like the stakes in getting Danny back are as high as they are for Miles to return to the house he built so he can burn it down.

And what a small house it is, from an interpersonal level. While maybe it should’ve been something I figured out well before this episode, I didn’t put it together that “Nate” (I guess I can call him Jason now) is not only Neville’s son but also Miles’s nephew because Neville is married to Miles and Ben’s sister Julia. Which, of course, makes Jason and Charlie cousins, which makes their interest in each other kind of gross.

Though, admittedly, there’s never been an indication that Jason has been interested in Charlie in a “let’s-get-naked” kind of way, just a concern for her well-being. Maybe it’s a fault on my part (and possibly the audience at large if I could be representative of that?) to assume romance when two people show thinly-veiled concern for each other. It’s led to more than a few George and Tessa Suburgatory fan-fics I’m sure, not to mention the ill-conceived notion that Mad Men‘s Don Draper and Peggy Olson are going to eventually find each other (we all know Peggy’s going to bring her pears home to Pete). Upon finding out that Jason is related to Charlie I thought, “What? Gross, dude.” But maybe that was just me being conditioned to think we don’t have all the pieces in place because we don’t have a love interest for Charlie yet (because, apparently, she’s related to 60% of everyone in the cast).

While I struggle to connect with the concerns for much of the cast, the one character that’s knocking what’s being given to him out of the park is Neville. On paper, his character sounds dull and basic. He was a pencil-pusher in the days before the blackout, overshadowed not only by his superiors but also by his douchbag next-door neighbor. Once the Blackout came, he unleashed his inner alpha male and used the rewritten rules to his advantage. It’s a classic trope for the nebbish to take their revenge once the slate is clean or in the midst of chaos.

The difference is in Giancarlo Esposito’s delivery. His swings in tone, his knowing stares, his supporting the belief that he can be violent and nurturing — he nails all of the things that give this character any nuance so well that it’s almost hard for me to imagine why the other characters don’t contain the same breaks from archetype. Miles was Han Solo from day one, Charlie is a naive teenager, Aaron is the goofy nerd. Even Monroe’s limited characterization is just a desperate man burdened by the pressure of leadership. Why does Neville feel so different? I think the variable is clear.

• One of the other things that reminds me of Lost: adventure music. When parties are formed to go on a quest, the tone of the music changes to very tell-tale questing music. I don’t know if he and Michael Giacchino have ever collaborated. I’m just saying has anyone seen them in the same room together?
• I’m glad Danny is finally in Philadelphia so Rachel and Monroe can stop having the same conversation every week.
• I like that Miles rags on Jason for his tight t-shirts by calling him things like “Nipples.” Someone needs to call out the tight shirt epidemic happening on this show. No shirt manufacturers and, yet, everything everyone wears keeps its shape?
• The punching foley is really loud and kind of gross throughout the episode. When pre-Blackout Neville hits the punching bag, it’s like it’s being punch by the Hulk. Getting back at the neighbor felt like off-screen punishment dealt to a walker on The Walking Dead.
• Hey! It’s Jeff Fahey! In another role where he’s a victim of circumstance among people more destined to achieve than he is!
• I’m glad Miles is like Sterling Archer and really just wants to be involved in a battle on top of a train car. Old fashioned train heist!
• There are 12 of those key chain things?! And we gotta catch ’em all? SON OF A