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hazelkAccording to Josh Friedman on the terminator blog these past three episodes were envisaged as a Sarah Connor triptych.
A note about the recent/current episodes: some months ago I determined to steer the show towards its title, towards Sarah Connor. I wanted to explore not simply the idea of chasing Skynet and all that that entails, but also the psychological effects of doing so. It wasn’t enough to just hunt/fight/protect; I wanted to see what was going on inside her head, especially when those around her doubted her. Now some of you find that interesting, some of you don’t, some of you probably would but don’t think I’ve done a good job depicting it. And most of you are just pissed there’s not enough Cameron.
Is it difficult starting up with dark, psychological episodes after being gone for two months? Seems that’s the case. People are worked up about the Friday night thing and the ratings and I probably underestimated that microscope in my desire to explore Sarah and her demons. To be completely honest, the network warned me not to do it but I felt (and still feel) these stories (and I consider the upcoming Some Must Sleep… as the third part of the Sarah triptych) were/are vital parts of the show. But that’s coming from the guy who believes that if you enjoy watching Weaver slaughter thirty people in one episode you’re obligated to go to their funeral in the next.
The Good Wound took Sarah back to her roots, back to the garden, back to the apple tree, back to the waitress who fell for a soldier. DreamKyle who was also Sarah (just as Alan was also Elaine) showed her that despite everything that had happened to harden her, she retained her human heart. A heart that struggled to reconcile itself with the things her hands had done, things that the waitress would never have believed herself capable of. Sarah killed a man or believed she had.
I knew I was going to like this episode the moment she undercut her the iconic monologue while driving with,
“If you believe in that kind of thing.”
Which in retrospect was a clue hidden in plain hearing - which kind of thing is the audience meant to believe in? A coyote foreshadowing a dead man resurrected to punish the dreamer’s sins or Sarah Connor checking in to a brightly lit sleep clinic complete with pit-bull-in-lipstick nurse. Part of the joy of this episode is that even after you know the twist there’s still so much to go back and read meaning into.
One of the factors that made me suspicious of the clinic from the beginning was how pally John and Cameron were acting. Sarah’s nightmares were hilariously close to every shipper’s dream of their relationship. Cameron makes better pancakes. She goes straight to the sweet spot. She wanders randomly around the house in nothing but a shocking pink push up bra and matching undies. Clearly Sarah is uneasy about other women with designs on John’s affections.
In the future it’s not only robot girls who will love John but all of humanity so it was interesting that her room mate also showed an interest. Her self-indulgent, cheerfully weak and oblivious roommate, whose fate was to be consumed in fire, making her an apt metaphor for Sarah’s view of humanity. Who she tried to save but seemingly failed.
In the basement she begged John to erase her, meaning perhaps that that was what his very existence had already done. Sarah doesn’t kill to save herself, only to save John. She was an everygirl who tried to be the Madonna. She should have let Wilson kill her but she didn’t.
Their final fight was visceral. Sarah Connor fights smart. She doesn’t waste time on fisticuffs, goes straight for the soft parts and kills him for real this time. No mercy. He knew about John but I don’t think that was the only reason. The final scene shifted the sentiments of the opening monologue from first person plural to third person.
“The oldest and most enduring story told by man.”
Sarah Connor is no man. The coyote, as transgendered as all her other guides, is a bitch. A bad bitch. She can live with that.
A note about the recent/current episodes: some months ago I determined to steer the show towards its title, towards Sarah Connor. I wanted to explore not simply the idea of chasing Skynet and all that that entails, but also the psychological effects of doing so. It wasn’t enough to just hunt/fight/protect; I wanted to see what was going on inside her head, especially when those around her doubted her. Now some of you find that interesting, some of you don’t, some of you probably would but don’t think I’ve done a good job depicting it. And most of you are just pissed there’s not enough Cameron.
Is it difficult starting up with dark, psychological episodes after being gone for two months? Seems that’s the case. People are worked up about the Friday night thing and the ratings and I probably underestimated that microscope in my desire to explore Sarah and her demons. To be completely honest, the network warned me not to do it but I felt (and still feel) these stories (and I consider the upcoming Some Must Sleep… as the third part of the Sarah triptych) were/are vital parts of the show. But that’s coming from the guy who believes that if you enjoy watching Weaver slaughter thirty people in one episode you’re obligated to go to their funeral in the next.
The Good Wound took Sarah back to her roots, back to the garden, back to the apple tree, back to the waitress who fell for a soldier. DreamKyle who was also Sarah (just as Alan was also Elaine) showed her that despite everything that had happened to harden her, she retained her human heart. A heart that struggled to reconcile itself with the things her hands had done, things that the waitress would never have believed herself capable of. Sarah killed a man or believed she had.
I knew I was going to like this episode the moment she undercut her the iconic monologue while driving with,
“If you believe in that kind of thing.”
Which in retrospect was a clue hidden in plain hearing - which kind of thing is the audience meant to believe in? A coyote foreshadowing a dead man resurrected to punish the dreamer’s sins or Sarah Connor checking in to a brightly lit sleep clinic complete with pit-bull-in-lipstick nurse. Part of the joy of this episode is that even after you know the twist there’s still so much to go back and read meaning into.
One of the factors that made me suspicious of the clinic from the beginning was how pally John and Cameron were acting. Sarah’s nightmares were hilariously close to every shipper’s dream of their relationship. Cameron makes better pancakes. She goes straight to the sweet spot. She wanders randomly around the house in nothing but a shocking pink push up bra and matching undies. Clearly Sarah is uneasy about other women with designs on John’s affections.
In the future it’s not only robot girls who will love John but all of humanity so it was interesting that her room mate also showed an interest. Her self-indulgent, cheerfully weak and oblivious roommate, whose fate was to be consumed in fire, making her an apt metaphor for Sarah’s view of humanity. Who she tried to save but seemingly failed.
In the basement she begged John to erase her, meaning perhaps that that was what his very existence had already done. Sarah doesn’t kill to save herself, only to save John. She was an everygirl who tried to be the Madonna. She should have let Wilson kill her but she didn’t.
Their final fight was visceral. Sarah Connor fights smart. She doesn’t waste time on fisticuffs, goes straight for the soft parts and kills him for real this time. No mercy. He knew about John but I don’t think that was the only reason. The final scene shifted the sentiments of the opening monologue from first person plural to third person.
“The oldest and most enduring story told by man.”
Sarah Connor is no man. The coyote, as transgendered as all her other guides, is a bitch. A bad bitch. She can live with that.