So you still haven’t watched Tuesday night’s “Sons of Anarchy?” Well you’re going to want to pop your eyes back in their sockets, boot up those tablets and pre-order your copies of “Cocks & Bagels” because it was a doozy. Also, this article contains spoilers, and this is one you’re going to want to see for yourself.
Last week Ichabod and Abbie scored one for the good guys by ending a centuries old family curse and saving a little girl. Meanwhile, Hawley — aka Southern Gentleman Aquaman — scored one for pragmatism by running away from danger because self-preservation is an extremely underutilized skill.
But with Mills and Crane feeling good about “getting the hang” of this Witness thing, what inevitably terrible fate awaits them this week with “The Weeping Lady”?
Oh wow. The seamstress from the Revolutionary War reenactment the other week wasn’t a throw away character! She returns and is given a name. Caroline. Miss Caroline has been busy replenishing Ichabod’s wardrobe of period appropriate clothing. And churning him butter. And making him jam. And oh dear, I think Caroline is hoping Crane with churn HER butter. Because commitment to Colonial ways is apparently an aphrodisiac. Either that or it’s just his accent.
Despite looking like a budget Katrina, Ichabod demures by saying he is married. Through a series of comical misunderstandings involving Abbie picking that exact moment to return with takeout, Caroline is under the impression Abbie is Mrs. Crane.
I mean, it’s a logical conclusion. Ichabbie shippers everywhere rejoice at the nod, despite Crane adamantly saying Mills is his partner but not his LIFE partner. Miss Caroline is suffering from deafness brought on my acute embarrassment though and doesn’t hear, quickly escaping while making apologies to “Mrs. Crane.”
Speak of the devil, we cut over to the real Mrs. Crane who is finally getting her witchy ways on. Yeah, girl! You mix that potion. You murmur that spell. You…write that love letter? Okay, I guess she’s still hanging around to “spy” on War and Death. But she sends a raven off to find Ichabod and deliver a message. Abraham almost catches her, but she distracts him with her winning personality and new clothes.
Seriously, does no one in Sleepy Hollow wonder why the demand for period accurate Revolutionary clothing is through the roof?
Headless warns Katrina that he wants her to join him willingly, but he’s not gonna wait for permission forever…so yep, the Horseman of Death is still a douchebag. Abraham then goes to have a Skype call…I mean a mirror conversation…with War to bitch about Katrina getting around the anti-magic wards. Well at least that explains why she hasn’t burned everything to ash by now. Henry offers to help and Headless basically tells him to go back and play with his tiny town and leave the corruption of Katrina to him.
Henry is not amused. DISSENSION IN THE RANKS!
War isn’t about to let that prissy alpha male tell him what he can and can’t do, so he dives into Katrina’s personal effects to find something on which a sin might reside. Upon discovering her copy of “Gulliver’s Travels,” Henry smiles…and not in the nice way.
Meanwhile, random teens are making out in a secluded spot, so obviously they are about to die. Especially since they’re talking about whether or not to have sex. But suddenly, a ghostly witch slams into their windshield, inadvertently saving them. Everyone knows the horror monster can’t kill you until AFTER you’ve started banging, so really that ghost is a hero.
Across town, Abbie is trying to convince Ichabod that it’s totally socially acceptable to send Caroline an apology via phone or text, but his sense of propriety will not stand for it. He’s going to apologize for the mix-up in person. Right now. After dark when most people are probably in their pajamas and not expecting sudden company.
But Miss Caroline is not a normal person and is happy to see her unrequited crush on her doorstep instead of mortified. Crane says he hopes they can remain friends since he has so very few…and even less who share his affinity for 18th century American history. Caroline — in an astonishing feat — accepts this elaborate “It’s not you, it’s me” apology and agrees.
So of course she is now slated for death. In the darkness of her house, Caroline senses something is amiss. I also sense something is amiss. How the hell does a twenty-something own a house this big? Oh wait, dark water and creepy crying and a silhouette sitting in a rocking chair. Girl, you about to die.
The sad ghost lady goes feral and Caroline shrieks. Well, good luck to the realtor saddled with selling this house now.
Sometime the next morning, Abbie is identifying Caroline’s dead body on the riverbank. Crane is flipping out because they won’t let him cross the police line until Mills clears him. How many cops does Sleepy Hollow have that there are still officers who don’t know Crane is ALWAYS going to be cleared to cross when Abbie is involved?
No one can figure out what happened to Caroline. Her car was still at her house and there’s no sign of a struggle. “Who would do this?” asks Ichabod Crane, apparently in all seriousness. Oh I don’t know, genius. It’s not like you have a list of arch-enemies as long as your arm. Abbie knows the best way to stave off grief is to be useful, so she suggests they look up-river. Perhaps Caroline washed down shore and clues will be found elsewhere.
Approximately twenty seconds later, Ichabod finds Caroline’s coffee mug from the night before in the sand. Nearby there are car skid marks but no footprints. So probably those lucky non-dead teenagers. Is Abbie not going to point out that Ichabod probably shouldn’t put his fingerprints all over the possession of a murder victim? No? Oh, okay.
Have fun in prison, Crane.
Being genre savvy, Abbie figures it was definitely teenagers because this a popular place to make-out. Ichabod is delightfully naive about what happens at a modern day “lover’s lane” and it’s adorable. But he’s not so naive as to not appreciate the “spirit” of the local high school cheerleading squad when they go to question the Queen Bees about who was necking under the bridge last night.
Our hapless teen lovers confess they hauled ass out of there after the Weeping Lady cracked the windshield and a short drive later Abbie is pulling up information on a local legend at the library. The Weeping Lady is a standard soggy ghost: dripping wet, glowing green eyes, always crying, probably a restless spirit who died due to and/or at the hands of her unfaithful lover. But to be sure, Mills and Crane need the source material. It is really hard to make “searching the Dewey Decimal System” action-packed, so the show compensates in three ways:
One, Katrina’s messenger bird finds Ichabod. She lets him know she is well, if annoyed at her limited witchery due to the wards.
Two, and most appreciated, a wild Southern Gentleman Aquaman appears! Hawley runs into Abbie and confesses he’s researching apocalypse stuff because forewarned is forearmed in his — correct — opinion. Abbie tries to give him shit about running away from the last demon and Hawley is like “It was a demon!” Turns out you don’t have to be a believer of the occult to sell it. “Do all people who sell Christmas tress believe in Santa Claus?” asks Hawley, modern day philosopher. He also offers to help free of charge next time Abbie needs it, which is probably the biggest sign of respect SGA is capable of giving.
Three, the Weeping Woman is also visiting the library. But she’s not here to check out a book on how to deal with grief. She’s here to murder Abbie, who of course takes the bait. Sure, Abbie unholsters her gun but LIKE THAT’S GONNA DO ANY GOOD. The Weeping Lady makes her play and lo and behold, bullets do nothing.
When we last left the Doctor and Clara, the former had shown his willingness to sacrifice the one to save the majority while the latter had proved the Doctor isn’t the only one who lies. Determined to keep up her double life, Clara’s playing a dangerous game with both Twelve and Danny.
But who was behind the computerized voice of Gus? Or does it even matter? Will “Flatline” continue the trend of the Monster-Of-The-Week (MOTW) or will the threads of this season start to coalesce? Time to find out!
Either we’re in the 1970s or this balding hipster hasn’t updated his decor since then. He’s whispering into a corded wall phone — truly an archaic device — to the police. He knows who did “it” and they’re everywhere. Whoever “they” are prove the hipster’s paranoid delusions are true by instantly murdering him.
Godspeed, sir. You make delightfully eccentric wallpaper.
In the TARDIS, Clara is haphazardly throwing her stuff into a bag. Ostensibly because Danny doesn’t like her leaving things behind, but in reality because Danny can’t find out she didn’t break up with the Doctor. Twelve is suspicious of a boyfriend being cool with time and space travel, but not with Clara leaving her toothbrush around. However, he doesn’t pick up on Clara being adamant in making sure they’ve returned to the EXACT same time and place they left from earlier.
Unrelated to anything, Clara’s jacket is amazing.
Ms. Oswald lies straight to Twelve’s face and turns to leave. But there is a problem. The TARDIS door is significantly smaller than it should be. It’s never done this before so of course the Doctor is intrigued. They both squeeze through (which is a hilarious visual) and OH MY GLOB. Sexy is so cute and adorable! But also, this probably spells certain doom, or at least a Scooby-Doo mystery to solve.
The Doctor is excited. Clara is pissed because they definitely didn’t land back in her apartment. “Let me enjoy this moment of not knowing something. It happens so rarely,” Twelve opines. Quite frankly, it’s refreshing to see this return to a Doctor who revels in not knowing instead of bluffing that he knows everything. Clara agrees with Twelve and wanders off to see if anything strange is in the area while the Doctor tries to figure out why the TARDIS is suddenly way, way smaller on the outside.
Nearby, graffiti artist Rigsy is suffering the indignity of doing community service…by painting over his own work. His supervisor is the instantly deplorable Fenton, a man who exhibits the kind of casual cruelty that makes you instantly hope he’s slated for death by monster.
A quick cut back to inside the TARDIS, where the Doctor is doing science with steampunk googles — hell yea! — when Sexy starts shaking like a Polaroid picture. That can’t be good.
Wandering around near the Bristol train station, Clara stumbles upon a memorial of some sort. Photos and candles and teddy bears are gathered against a wall. Further off underneath the bridge are murals of people, all with their backs facing the viewer.
One of the community service guys cat calls her and Rigsy is like “Dude, what the hell? It’s a MEMORIAL,” and abandons his civic duty to perform the sacred right of spewing exposition at a main character. He tells her about all the people who have gone missing, including the most recent person. I assume he’s talking about poor Balding Hipster. Finally, a clue!
Clara quickly returns to where she left the TARDIS but it’s nowhere in sight…until she looks down. Sexy is now a Teacup TARDIS. The Doctor explains something is leeching the external dimensions but he’s still the same size. Then he proves it by sticking his hand out of the tiny door and my brain is not happy about what it’s looking at but I have no words to describe this emotion.
Twelve instructs Clara to put the TARDIS in her bag, explaining he futzed with the weight and pointing out if the TARDIS didn’t displace her weight all the time, her true size would fracture the surface of the Earth. Huh, never really thought about that.
Before getting into her purse, the Doctor hands Clara the tools she’ll need to defeat whatever is out there. The psychic paper, the sonic screwdriver, and a nanotech optic nerve implant so Twelve can see what she sees.
Our artist Rigsy catches back up and asks Clara who she is. With an evil grin, Clara declares herself to be the Doctor. “Doctor Oswald,” to be precise. Inside the TARDIS, Twelve bristles, so of course she twists the knife by adding she’s not really a Doctor, she just picked the title because it makes her sound important.
With her local guide in tow, Rigsy and Doctor Oswald head to the latest crime scene. And it’s definitely not Balding Hipster’s house. Rigsy says when the victim disappeared, there was no sign of a struggle. The spookiest thing though? The doors were locked…from the inside. Great. We’re inside a fireside ghost story.
Side note: I assume that cracked desertscape one the wall is important, since the camera lingers on it.
Talking to the Doctor, who Rigsy can’t see or hear, Clara is coming off as slightly bonkers. Her declaration that perhaps the victim fell prey to a shrink ray, before getting down to start looking under furniture, is the last straw. Doctor or not, Rigsy can smell crazy and he is out of here. In a moment of desperation to keep her local guide, Clara busts out the Teacup TARDIS and introduces him to the Doctor.
Somehow this soothes Rigsy and he is back on board. A tiny person in a miniature police box is cool, I guess? Maybe Rigsy was a fan of “The Indian in the Cupboard” as a child.
But opening the TARDIS doors has let whatever was leeching the external dimensions steal the INTERNAL dimensions! I don’t know what that means but sounds bad! Clara agrees and closes the door while the Doctor paces near the chalkboard which is still housing the unknown equation that been around all season. WHAT DOES IT MEAN?
To the next crime scene! Okay, THIS is definitely Balding Hipster’s house. His commitment to the decorating schemes of the 1970s is admirably, if misguided. Clara has convinced a local police officer — via psychic paper — that she’s here to take over. At Twelve’s direction, she starts sledgehammering the walls. Sadly, there are no wolves inside them.
While Rigsy pumps Clara for information about how she got her “job,” the police officer steps into another room to talk to her superior on the phone. Which means it’s time for her to die. Oh look, the walls are melting! Either that’s the monster or we’ve all got a contact high from being in this house.
By the way, cool suspended egg chair.
Nope, it was the monster and definitely NOT drugs. The officer dies screaming as whatever it is sucks her right into the ground. By the time Clara and Rigsy arrive, there’s nothing left but her flashlight. Looking through Clara’s eyes, the Doctor finally realizes what is going on. The mural on the wall isn’t a spooky forest, but a flattened nervous system. The cracked desert was human skin. Whatever the MOTW is, it’s from a universe with only two dimensions.
And it’s vivisecting humans to try and figure out the third one.
If you’ve been holding off on Tuesday night’s “Sons of Anarchy,” you should probably grab your cuts, brush up on your dog code and put on your Cosby sweater before you’re spoiled by this review.
After Reyes effectively put an end to all occult shenanigans last week, Jenny and Crane are out of the police sidekick game, and Captain Irving is wrestling with the truth bomb that his lawyer is the Horseman of War.
On the plus side, Abbie made a new friend in Hawley, aka Southern Gentleman Aquaman.
What adventures await our plucky heroes this week? Will Katrina finally remember witches are good at things like WITCHCRAFT and ground her wayward son? Probably not, but one can hope.
This season of “Saturday Night Live” has been surprisingly devoid of nostalgia, something I didn’t think would happen in this, the show’s fortieth season. But with former cast member Bill Hader returning tonight, look for that to change. And honestly? That’s fine. I have no problem with the show occasionally celebrating its own history, especially since much of the current cast was there during Hader’s tenure. Look for many of Hader’s classic characters to make a comeback tonight. Will there be a Stefon appearance? One could argue (and I would argue) that the Stefon sendoff was so perfect that any future appearance of the character would dilute that moment. But since Stefon did make another appearance during Seth Meyers’ farewell, anything’s possible.
Something that’s not possible but definite: I’ll be liveblogging everything that happens tonight. Also definite: Many of you will rend garments when I give something a “B” instead of a “B+”. I am just giving the people what they want: A reason to hate me. It’s how I roll, and how I’ve been rolling for five years here at HitFix.
After a heavy-handed unplanned pregnancy metaphor last week, Clara decided she’d had just about enough of traveling with the Doctor. It’s one thing to befriend a madman in a box, it’s quite another to clean up the messes of a cavalier madman with a tenuous grasp on the idea that other people have thoughts and emotions.
Haven’t caught up on Tuesday’s newest “Sons of Anarchy?” Well snuff out that post-sex cigarette, cover up those chest tattoos and don’t promise someone there will be no more dead bodies, because well … we all know that’s bull. Have you watched this show before?
Last week Ichabod and Abbie raised a DIY Frankenstein’s monster, Jenny got arrested, War got his law degree and became Captain Irving’s attorney and Katrina got to hold the “idiot ball,” opting to stay a prisoner of Headless to glean information about his plot with Moloch.
So the “Root of all Evil” should obviously be good intentions gone wrong, as proved over and over by our heroes, but it probably has something to do with money. Let’s find out!
We open with the Horseman of War carving a miniature woodwork of Terrytown Psychiatric because even harbingers of the End of Days need a hobby. The tiny Terrytown replica transforms into the real deal and we join Ichabod and Abbie already inside. They’re here to see Captain Irving but Henry has thrown a wrench into their plan. It turns out that in his haste to not receive electroshock therapy, Irving didn’t read that book he signed and it had a provision in it where Henry can bar any visitor to his client…namely ones named Abigail Mills and Ichabod Crane.
Insert your own joke about lawyers being the real evil, here.
Mills and Crane just missed Henry and despite not being allowed to let them inside, the Terrytown receptionist is apparently allowed to give out the lawyer’s personal information. This includes the name of the taxi company he called to whisk him away, because riding a fiery horse away from the psych ward is less than subtle, I suppose.
Meanwhile, Jenny is being sprung from lock-up and Sheriff Reyes is hanging out to watch because the chief of police has nothing better to do than harass the youngest daughter of an old acquaintance. Reyes continues her streak of ignorantly being the most insulting person in the world by comparing Jenny to a wayward dog Reyes used to own. One that would always run out into the road and chase cars…until one day the dog didn’t come back. Because it died. Because it didn’t listen to Sheriff Reyes. Reyes twists the knife deeper by ending with “I just don’t want to see you end up like your mother.” Yes, yes. We get it, Sheriff. You’re morally righteous. Get your condescending ass out of here!
Crane and Mills have tracked Henry’s taxi ride to the bank. They’re on an impromptu stake-out, waiting for their quarry to surface when Ichabod notices something odd inside the cafe. Two men are talking, holding hands. One of them is wearing a hat. Crane asks if that’s considered acceptable these days. He’s talking about wearing hats indoors and not homosexuality because he served with Baron von Steuben and watch the finale of “Glee” and just what is Abbie implying about Ichabod’s moral compass to assume he would condemn two men in love!?
Okay, calm down Ichabod. You’re wandering into Mary Sue territory.
Finally, Henry exits the bank but before they can stalk War to his next location, shots are fired from inside the bank. Because of course they are. Sowing dissent is kind of War’s job description y’all. What did you think he was doing in there? ANYWAY, Crane is forced to stay outside while Abbie runs in because of stupid Sheriff Reyes’s new rules and he is not happy about it.
Inside, a security guard is dead on the ground and a bank teller with a 15 year tenure is losing her mind and robbing the bank. Mills plays everything right: she reminds the teller of who she is, and tries to talk her down from shooting any more bank employees or patrons. We know the teller is not in her right mind because the of weird dark sheen crossing her face and the ancient coin clutched in her hand. But Abbie’s skills as a negotiator are cut short as no-nonsense Sheriff Reyes shoots the poor possessed bank teller in the chest, killing her instantly. God, the “normals” are a worse menace to our heroes than the combined forces of hell.
Outside, Ichabod is pacing behind the police line like a good worried partner. As Abbie walks over to fill him in, I am once again struck by just how short she is! The height differential is freakin’ adorable. Abbie swears that the bank teller was the sweetest lady in the world and would never have gone on a murder spree. It must be War’s doing it. But how? As they wonder, a dirty hipster wanders off with the ancient coin in his hand and murder in his eyes.
Sometime later, we rejoin our heroes at the Exposition Library. Crane is complaining about skulking around the Sleepy Hollow underground to avoid Sheriff Killjoy, but his rant is cut short when the bank’s security footage reveals the teller stealing one of Henry’s deposited coins. The thievery sparks a memory in Ichabod from back when he was on a secret mission from General Washington…
…and can I just interject here that there is no reason other than bragging for Crane to still be starting EVERY SINGLE STORY with “Back when I did this secret mission for GENERAL WASHINGTON.”?? Dude, we get it. You were BFFs with the Founding Fathers. Just chill.
During a mission, Crane was helping retrieve a special shipment of coins from counterfeiters before they could melt them down. Special coins that look super ancient. Unless my eyes deceive me, those are Roman coins stamped with the profile of Caesar. Of course the coins were evil, and the commanding officer who touched one later went on to betray the fledging nation. That man’s name? Benedict Arnold.
Oh, come on! Is there any super-important event Crane only heard about later on, instead of playing a starring role in?
Crane muses on the allegory of a coin sent to morally bankrupt the owner and we cut to the hipster who is totally building a bomb. This will not end well.
Time to catch up with the world’s worst double agent. Katrina is “spying” on Headless and Henry again. By just casually standing around and listening to them talk in the other room. Either these guys want her to overhear their conversation or it’s just a carriage house full of ineptitude. Katrina has been getting to Headless, feeding him thoughts to question why War gets to be in charge and he, poor Horseman of Death, has to stay hidden. War is having none of it and finally tell his mom to butt right the hell out and stop messing with a simpleton who doesn’t even have a head to defend himself against her womanly wiles.
But wait just a damn minute, where did Katrina get this wardrobe change? I mean, if she’d put on some skinny jeans or a maxi skirt that’d be one thing but where does one get period-appropriate clothing for an out-of-time 18th century aristocratic woman? Not that she doesn’t look fetching, but what?
We’ll have to file the Mystery of the Blue Dress away for another day though, because Jenny has returned. Abbie was able to get her community service instead of jail time, but before she runs off to scrub graffiti from walls, Jenny casually mentions she knows a guy who might know something about the coins. After all, Jenny was part of the supernatural community for years while Abbie suppressed her memories.
Jenny also casually breaks into the police records using Abbie’s login, because she suspects Sheriff Reyes might not be the upstanding officer of the law she appears to be. And there is something weird. Reyes was the one who had Jenny and Abbie’s mom put away in Terrytown. Her testimony led to the Mills’ girls being put into foster care and orphaned after their mom committed suicide. Jenny is outraged. Abbie tries to hedge that Reyes was just doing her job and to be fair, their mom was out of her damn mind. Jenny freaks out on Abbie and leaves in an understandable rage.
With no other leads, Crane and Mills head down to the river to talk to Mr. Hawley. Because that’s where he hangs out…because he is Aquaman. More specifically, he is clearly Southern Gentleman Aquaman (SGA). Oh Lord have mercy, please let this disreputable dealer in supernatural antiquities be a new cast regular!
Ichabod is immediately suspicious. This man is obviously a pirate and not to be trusted and CLEARLY there is only room for one man with a sexy accent in Abbie’s life. Abbie disagrees.
After some prodding, SGA reveals that coin was probably a Tyrian shekel. Specifically, one of the 30 pieces of silver Judas accepted to betray Jesus. While Mr. Hawley doesn’t believe in all this supernatural hocus-pocus, he knows that people that do believe in such things pay handsomely for such things and he is totally down to help relieve them of their burden. Crane is outrage. Abbie is amused.
Suddenly, the flower shop explodes. Guess that hipster really hated his boss. Back at the Frederick estate, War puts the finishing touches on his miniature replica of Sleepy Hollow and smiles. Any minute now, Quasimodo is going to show up and burst into a rendition of “Out There.”
By her own admission, Sarah Silverman wasn’t prepared for her last stint on “Saturday Night Live,” which only lasted 18 total episodes. But was it really a matter of her not being prepared, or simply that her brand of comedy has never matched up with that of the show? That doesn’t make one brand better than another, but certainly produces a potentially odd mix when the two sides reunite tonight. If the show can write to her strengths rather than force her into an uncomfortable mode, this could be quite the unique episode. If not…well, last week’s premiere was pretty good, right? (And I’ve already bought tons of swag from the “Pam 2: The Winter Pam” online store.)
Along for the ride tonight is musical guest Maroon 5. As always, I’ll grade each sketch live as they occur. As always, a vocal minority will take those grades as heinous affronts upon their own existence. I used to keep reiterating that these are snap judgments made from a singular perspective, but I think that message would have gotten through years ago at this point. Onwards and upwards!