WordMaster
On Friday, March 23, at precisely
9:00 pm, Fringe will return from its
month-long hiatus with an episode called “A Short Story About Love” that sounds
all but guaranteed to be spectacular, a season – or maybe even series – best (EW’s Jeff “Doc” Jensen has already given
the episode an A, an extremely promising sign to say the least). Sadly, even if
“A Short Story About Love” is the greatest hour in the history of TV, it will
most likely make no more than a blip on the pop culture radar: the show’s
fourth season has never managed to lure in more than 4 million viewers, leaving
it on the verge of cancellation.
I’m not going to deny that I’m
writing this blog post for mostly selfish reasons. Fringe is far and away my favorite TV show currently on air, and
the prospect of discovering it, only to have it snatched away from me so soon
is like buying a new puppy and finding that it has mysteriously disappeared the
next morning (having never owned a pet, I can’t attest to the accuracy of that
thought with another thought’s hat, but you get my point). By now, I’m fully
aware that television is a ruthless, unjust industry in which quality and
ambition frequently go unrewarded – something that fans of Firefly, Arrested Development,
Terriers and countless other shows
learned the hard way – and I’ve accepted the fact that none of my favorite
shows are ever going to be massive hits in the ratings. As much as I wish
everyone shared my love for Community,
for example, there is no way a quirky, esoteric show like Dan Harmon’s cult darling
can beat a middle-of-the-road farce like Two
and a Half Men. And you know what? I’m perfectly fine with that. It makes
sense that the most popular shows would be ones that appeal to the broadest demographics
– unscripted reality shows like American
Idol, weekly procedurals like NCIS
and innocuous sitcoms like The Big Bang
Theory or Modern Family – while
weirder, less conventional fare has to settle for niche appeal. Still, I don’t
think it’s too much to ask that a show that consistently displays excellence,
creativity and innovation be allowed to end on its own terms, if not for the
show itself, then at least for the sake of the small yet devoted group of fans
that has patiently watched the show grow and blossom.
As I said, while I’m hoping
against hope that Fringe manages to
wring out a fifth season, I don’t mind the show’s cult status – in fact, it’s
almost comforting to know that Fringe
is unburdened by the sky-high expectations that plagued a certain other
mythology-based show created by J.J. Abrams. But that does not change the fact
that anyone not watching Fringe (or Community, Mad Men, Justified, etc.)
is missing out on some damn good television. It may have started out as little
more than a diverting, albeit uneven procedural arguably a tad too reminiscent
of The X-Files, but by the end of its
second season, Fringe had evolved
into a mesmerizing slice of genre pulp unlike anything else, a daring, wildly
inventive thriller that stimulates in equal measure the mind and the heart.
Plus, it’s on Fox! In our post-Lost
era, when original programming seems to be increasingly limited to cable, Fringe provides an encouraging reminder
that TV doesn’t need colossal amounts of violence, profanity and sex in order
to be provocative.
What, you may ask, makes Fringe so special? Why should I spend
hours – days – of my life watching a TV show that might not even get a real
ending? I’m glad you asked, and even if you didn’t, you’re getting the answer
anyway, so you might as well make yourself comfortable.
So, why is Fringe worth your time?
Well, because it has one of the
most undervalued casts on TV. John Noble captured viewers’ attention from day 1
for his portrayal of the eccentric, guilt-ridden scientist Walter Bishop, his
uncanny ability to balance the character’s comical quirks and heartbreaking
vulnerability; it is nothing short of bewildering that the Emmys have yet to
recognize this nuanced, compassionate performance (on a side-note, even more
outrageous is the fact that, despite being nominated 19 times, the actors of Mad Men have not won a single Emmy). Matching Noble step for step are Anna Torv
and Joshua Jackson (in the roles of Olivia Dunham and Peter Bishop,
respectively), who have gradually overcome some initial skepticism with their
effortless chemistry and emotional finesse. By now, it’s impossible to say
which of the three is most impressive. Then, there are supporting players Lance
Reddick, Jasika Nicole, Blair Brown, Kirk Acevedo and Seth Gabel, who exhibit
considerable generosity by never trying to steal the spotlight from the leads
but also take full advantage of the opportunities given to them. It is also worth
noting the numerous guest actors that pop in and out of various episodes; standouts
include recurring visitor Orla Brady, Peter Weller (“White Tulip”), Martha
Plimpton (“Northwest Passage”), Michael Eklund (“The Plateau”), Karley Scott
Collins (“Subject 13) and John Pyper-Ferguson (“One Night in October”).
Because David Robert Jones is a
flat-out awesome villain. He’s only appeared in seven episodes to date, but Mr.
Jones is easily one of the most enjoyable and memorable parts of Fringe. Portrayed with devilish delight
by veteran Brit Jared Harris, who can convey more menace in a single raise of
his eyebrow than most actors can in an entire monologue, he’s like Hannibal
Lecter without the cannibalism: charismatic, brilliant and undeniably
psychotic. He’s too unashamedly evil to be sympathetic (just watch the hospital
scene in “Enemy of My Enemy”), but it’s a blast watching him manipulate and
outwit his opponents.
Because it’s a geek’s
dream-come-true. When Fringe
premiered, the relentless comparisons to The
X-Files were more often than not used as criticism, but now, the nods and
references to various movies, TV shows and other pop culture phenomena have
become part of the show’s identity. Over the years, Fringe has directly or implicitly winked at everything from Lost and Star Trek to Se7en, The Twilight Zone, The Matrix, Inception and
even Brigadoon. On any other show,
all of these homages and allusions would probably feel like overload or just
plain laziness, but here, they feel both appropriate and discreet, like
gemstones waiting to be discovered. It’s easy to ignore if you couldn’t give
two shits about pop culture or science-fiction, but if you’re like me and your
conversations consist almost entirely of references and quotes from various
forms of fiction, Fringe is a
fantastic opportunity to indulge your inner (or outer) geek. For God’s sake,
there even exists a graphic novel in which Peter and Walter send Adolf Hitler
back in time to be eaten by dinosaurs! If that doesn’t make you giddy with joy,
then I don’t know what to tell you.
Because it looks stunning.
Fringe isn’t exactly
Avatar in terms of its visuals, but
especially for network TV, it’s still gorgeous (at any rate, compared to
Lost, it practically is
Avatar). Boasting atmospheric set
design, surprisingly decent CGI and envy-worthy costumes, the show makes good
use of its apparently high budget; for proof, just look at
this
picture, which is literally the reason why I got interested in
Fringe in the first place. Also, the
last episode featured a scene of The Big Bang that I found more awe-inspiring
than the much-hyped creation montage from
The
Tree of Life, perhaps because it
actually
made sense – and this is coming from someone who liked
The Tree of Life.
Because Olivia Dunham is a
feminist protagonist in every sense of the word. Fringe may be classified as science-fiction noir, and for the most
part, the show flaunts its genre origins like a badge of honor, but it also
takes every opportunity to bend and twist conventions. Most notably, it
subverts the notoriously misogynistic noir genre by inserting a woman into the
traditional “detective” role. Tough, independent, fearless and ambitious, Agent
Olivia Dunham is everything that a strong female character should be: she
doesn’t take bullshit from anyone (least of all, men), she kicks ass and she’s
complicated. While most contemporary action heroines come in the form of
cold-blooded martyrs seeking to exact revenge on male bigots everywhere (think
Lisbeth Salander), Olivia has none of those revolutionary pretenses; she’s
simply a fierce, determined woman who does what it takes to get the job done,
and while she is often emotionally detached, she doesn’t completely shun human
relationships, romantic or otherwise.
Because it’s a worthy successor
to Lost. If all the networks still
desperately searching for “the next Lost”
were paying attention, they’d know that we’ve already found it. Fringe may never obtain the titanic ratings
or cultural significance of that landmark series, but the parallels between the
two shows extend far beyond their shared creator, from their heavy
science-fiction elements and labyrinthine mythology to their themes of faith,
love and destiny. If anything, Fringe
has improved upon its predecessor. Lost
is and always will be my favorite TV show, but even I have to (grudgingly)
admit that it had its fair share of flaws, many of which Fringe has identified and corrected. Whereas Lost boasted a sprawling ensemble cast, Fringe keeps its scope small, ensuring that regardless of how
convoluted the plot gets, the show never loses sight of its characters and
their individual journeys, and lending it a comforting intimacy that Lost couldn’t quite maintain after its
third season. More importantly, however, Fringe
has noticeably shunned Lost’s
enigmatic exploration of spirituality in favor of a more logical, scientific
approach. While I found Lost’s
blatant religious implications intriguing, even inspiring, it is an understatement
to say that most people reacted to the theological allegories and mystic
elements that dominated the show’s sixth season with frustration. No doubt
wanting to avoid the controversy that greeted the finale of Lost, the people behind Fringe made sure to keep the show
grounded in realism, and at least so far, they seem to understand that more
often than not, it is better to provide answers that are predictable yet
believable rather than attempt to blow audiences away with huge,
out-of-left-field twists. After The
X-Files, Buffy the Vampire Slayer,
Battlestar Galactica and Lost, I’m sure that fans of
science-fiction TV are hungry for a show ending that lives up to expectations;
could Fringe be the one to break the
curse?
Because it isn’t afraid to
venture down the rabbit hole. Also unlike Lost,
which started out as a relatively ordinary drama, Fringe let its freak flag fly right out of the gate, luring in
viewers with a series of freaky, often grotesque mysteries. As the show
progressed, its imagination has sprouted in all kinds of startling directions,
stretching the boundaries of television. What other show would dare to do an
entire episode centered around a neo-noir children’s story that not only has
little connection to the actual plot but also involves periodic musical
numbers? Or literally enter the minds of four different characters? Or pull off
a storyline in which one actor is obligated to do an extended impression of
Leonard Nimoy? And that’s not even mentioning the ingenious, mind-bending
cases, most notably “Dream Logic”, “White Tulip”, “The Plateau”, “Marionette”,
“One Night in October” and “And Those We Left Behind”.
Because it’s simultaneously
escapist and serious. On the surface, Fringe
is an entertaining, adventurous mystery with a sci-fi twist, as evidenced by
its brazen love of body-horror and its playful, lighthearted sense of humor
(vagenda, n: 1. an act where a woman
seduces a man for ulterior reasons, 2. the most awesome contribution of any TV
show to the English language). And it can certainly work as pure escapism if
you want it to. On another level, though, it’s a deft, surreptitiously timely
conglomeration of various themes and issues, ranging from love, family and
redemption to power, fate, identity and paranoia, and one of the most sensitive
and subtle fictional portraits of post-9/11 America I’ve seen. By turns
suspenseful, exhilarating, sinister, humorous, nostalgic, thought-provoking and
poignant, Fringe truly has something
for everyone.
And lastly and most of all,
because it has one of the best onscreen romances I’ve ever seen. That may sound
like hyperbole or like I’ve got my priorities messed up, and maybe both of
those possibilities are correct, but watching “A Better Human Being” a few
weeks ago, I couldn’t help but realize how much I love Peter and Olivia as a
couple. We’ve followed their relationship through four seasons’-worth of ups
and downs, tentative hopes and disappointing setbacks, and during that time, it
really feels as though we’ve gotten to know them – their dreams, their fears,
their insecurities, their habits; at this point, it’s almost like watching an
actual couple as they mature and attempt to navigate their complicated feelings
for each other. In all the hundreds of movies and TV shows I’ve watched over
the years, I don’t think I’ve ever rooted this wholeheartedly for two
characters to find happiness together. Aided by the effortlessly endearing
chemistry shared by Anna Torv and Joshua Jackson, the Fringe writers took a romance that could have been clichéd and
strained and transformed it into something that feels utterly natural and
sincere. When they talk, you get the sense that these people genuinely belong
together, that they know each other through and through and have shared
numerous memories and experiences unseen by viewers that shaped them both as a
couple and as individuals. In short, they are a perfect pairing, which makes
the near certain knowledge that their relationship is an ill-fated one all the
more devastating – as Peter Bishop once said, all the best romances are
tragedies.
If you’ve managed to survive all
of my tangents and too-earnest gushing, I think I can safely assume that you’re
either already a
Fringe fan – in
which case, virtual hi-five! – or you’re at least semi-interested in the show. Whenever
you get the chance, go ahead and buy or download the pilot from Barnes &
Noble, Amazon, iTunes, Netflix, Sockshare.com or wherever (or if you want to
dive into the deep end right off the bat, I’d recommend watching “Brown Betty”,
which is both a terrific standalone episode and an effective entry test for
prospective newcomers). I’ll wait. In the meantime, Fox, while you’re watching
Glee crash and burn through six
all-but-inevitable seasons and an already completed movie (
not
that anyone cared), do humanity a favor and give
Fringe the fifth season it deserves. I promise we’ll thank you for
it.
