Emma (Jennifer Morrsion) hopes Henry (Jared Gilmore) recovers after her lack of faith leads to his hospitalization.

“It’s not the destination, it’s the journey,” or some variation of that cliche was drilled into me as a kid so that I would develop patience, and not be so results-oriented: “I want this, I want that,” and the like. And it’s useful, because when you embrace that value you’re less likely to be disappointed. Sure, if you invest mightily in a project you want to see it succeed, but if the process was rewarding in itself, then you won’t walk away like you’ve wasted your efforts.

As a viewer of “Once Upon A Time,” I cannot speak for all, but in my enjoyment of the breakneck speed conclusion, I wondered if the journey that led me to this satisfying destination was tainting it. Almost as if I had such a traumatic flight en route to a luxury resort on a tropical island that it soured me on the whole paradise thing. While I’m sure I could find a way to enjoy soaking up some rays and bathing in pristine waters, this finale wasn’t so mind-blowing that I’d forgotten how pissed I was on the way over. Last week, I talked about being that proverbial kid who always need to pee in the back seat, whining incessantly, “Are we there yet?” Now, I feel like the spoiled kid who got the Christmas present he wanted, but upon receiving it doesn’t want it as badly, Because I waited so long for it lost its allure. I saw the commercials every day after school and the desire for it became pathological. When Mom said I would get it for Christmas, I danced around for what seemed like forever and passed the time imagining what it would be like to call it my own. Then the day came and I wanted something else more.

That feeling of getting almost exactly what you wanted, but not being as thrilled with it as you’d imagined you would was my overwhelming emotion watching the conclusion to OUAT’s first season. The isolated fairybacks, whose relevance eluded us got connections that were more than tenuous at best, magic got context and concrete boundaries instead of fluid, willy-nilly usage and the emotional toll on the characters was palpable. Withholding these methods of engagement doesn’t seem fruitful to me, especially when you need to convince your viewers that 22 episodes are a worthy investment. I understand the storytelling advantages inherent in character by character flashbacks, but for me the real world arc was dragging its heels so that its development would sync up that of the Fairy Tale Land. But Storybrooke is the aftermath, the fallout from these FTL events. Being beholden to those fairybacks serves no narrative purpose.

The “Lost” formula was successful for a reason, but the application of it was sloppy. Yes, an episode of “Lost” would focus primarily on one character through flashbacks and they would become more fleshed out in the current timeline as a result, but the world didn’t stop so that we could get to know them. For example, in the Grumpy episode, what did we glean from having Grumpy crush on a nun and sell candles? Yeah, nothing. That contributed zero to the direction of the arc. And while the relevance of certain threads like The Mad Hatter’s and Belle’s were given heft in the finale, many other detours remained a distraction, the part of the magician’s trick where they subtly get you to draw your focus away so that you’ll miss the manipulation. Shoehorning a “see wasn’t that worth it, kids?” into one pretty thrilling day trip, does not make this television show a worthwhile “vacation.” To me, it’s a case of lazy parents who are putting off presents until the holiday so they don’t have to deal with it now. And they hope that by making it special, the excruciating wait will be forgotten. Sorry, I remember the bumpy ride to Disneyworld or the painfully drawn out months that preceded the most wonderful time of the year.

Let’s get down to logistics. there was a lot to be delighted about. And while promises are not always kept on this show, we end on a note that would suggest OUAT won’t just be meandering in The Infinite Forest in its follow-up season. In the FTL, we begin where we left off, with Snow White poisoned and Charming trapped. While being escorted to his execution, Charming busts out his apparent military training as he totally owns the Evil Queen’s guards. However, as he turns down the hall a guard points his bow and arrow at him, and another guard boxes him in. Awaiting an arrow in the chest, the guard fires and hits his own man instead. Why did the guard help him? Well, because that guard is the Huntsman a.k.a Sheriff Graham. I got nervous they were bringing him back from the dead as some ploy, but then I remembered that in FTL you have the luxury of living after your heart is ripped out of you and crushed in someone’s hands.

Emma rushes Henry to the hospital and Dr. Whale asks her how this happened. She now does believe in Henry so she screams that he ate a poisoned apple turnover! Emma’s insistence was kind of hilarious, because for once she gets to feel how ridiculous it is to explain this to a non-believer. As the kid goes comatose, she touches his book and she’s flooded with memories of the FTL. It feels cheap. I understand that belief is powerful, and the point is that her son being in immortal danger is and should be a galvanizing force, but seeing “magic” as a catalyst again brings out the groans in me. Regina flurries in and Emma goes ape. She shoves Regina in a supply closet and throws her around. Well, it’s about damn time! I know it makes sense that Emma would only get some fight in her now that she believes, but Regina could have used some roughing up a while ago. Regina admits that it’s all true and that it was poisoned to make Emma fall asleep. The brief moment where we see Regina’s desperation to keep her son is touching, but most emotional moments are breezed through and not given time to ferment because, as I said, the answers are shoehorned in and it’s a mad dash to revelations. Regina says they must consult the only other person in Storybrooke who knows magic. Emma guesses Gold, but then Regina delivers the laugher line: “Actually, he goes by Rumpelstiltskin.”

Lost in the forest, Charming bumps into Rumpy who enchants his mother’s ring to help find Snow. On one condition. He must insert a potion, carefully encased in a golden egg, into “the belly of the beast…for a rainy day” (hehe). The potion, of course, is that true love potion I was excited about. Eeerily enough, the potion was made from strands of Charming and Snow’s hair. We also get a gem of a line about what Rumpelstiltskin knows of true love (obviously referring to Belle): “It was a brief flicker of light amidst a notion of darkness. Badass.

Continuing with the overt parallelism, in the following real world scene, Gold tells Emma about the nature of the curse, and the reason why she is the anointed savior, the safety valve. He put one drop of true love’s potion onto the parchment of the curse, meaning that she, the product of true love, is the one glimmer of hope in all that misery. See, that’s cool. I like that. As I’ve mentioned, I’m a sucker for true love, but it also follows through on what I have been asking for, some guidelines for how magic can be used, instead of being deployed when it’s convenient. We get the punchline too for the “rainy day” joke when Emma replies, “Well it’s stormy as a bitch, where is it?” Gold smiles with that Rumpy, mischievous grin and gives Emma her father’s sword.

We get another Spark Notes version of emotion when both Regina and Emma say their potential goodbyes to Henry. There’s some good acting, they just aren’t afforded time to linger with the severity of the situation. Like when Regina’s goodbye is abruptly cut off by Jefferson creeping in the shadows, waiting for his deal to be honored where he doesn’t remember his old life. But their deal is null and void since Emma is still awake. Jefferson doesn’t take this loophole well and seems to have the face of a schemer.

Emma stalls a bit to visit August with an obligatory, “You were right!” He can’t open the door though because at this point, he’s mostly wood (giggity) and as his face, the last remnant of humanity turns, he tells Emma that he has the faith she can save them all. Emma then meets Regina at the post office where she has a secret lair (surprise, surprise) with an elevator that will take her to Maleficent. We all know it’s gonna be a dragon, but they’re coy about it like it will be some big reveal. But anyone with a working knowledge of fairy tales knew that was coming, right? Anyway, Emma assures her majesty that the only reason she’s not dead is she needs her help. But if Henry dies, she does too. See, Emma with some bite is awesome, more please!

Our double duty dragon battles ensue, with father and daughter trying to accomplish opposite goals. While the CGI dragon was impressive, it was depressing to see how horrible the green screen scenery was. All the effort put in to those sword fights and gorgeous fire-breathers, and it’s downplayed by a really artificial looking castle. At any rate, having both battles at the same time felt like overkill, like I was in an anteroom waiting for the real action to start, but it looked damn good. And we get a couple standout moments from Emma’s bout: she pulls out her gun because she is clumsy with a sword; and she chucks the sword at the dragon as the prince did in the Disney film.

Charming finds Snow with his GPS ring and then asks for her hand. It was a nice touch for Goodwin to say, “What do you think?” playing off the knowledge that we obviously knew where this was headed. Egg in hand, Emma gets stalled in the elevator and screams up to Regina only for Gold to answer. He says to throw up the egg before she climbs up. Boneheaded move. Once up there, she sees that Gold gagged Regina, and that upon catching the egg, Gold ran off. It’s then when Regina and Emma both receive messages. Henry’s dead. Now, fair warning. This is horrible. But did anyone else HOPE he stayed dead. I’m not a proponent of child murder per say, BUT man would that add some urgency or what, huh? I’m sorry. I’m a terrible person and should be ashamed. I will let the record show though, that losing Jared Gilmore as a child actor would not be the worst thing. There’s a reason he didn’t stick around on “Mad Men.”

While Henry was going into cardiac arrest, Jefferson uses the chaos to slip downstairs to the mental institution wing. As revenge against Regina, he frees Belle and tells her to go seek out Mr. Gold and tell him that Regina locked her up. Why he couldn’t escort her, I don’t know. Late for tea, maybe? Yeah, I suck. So, when Gold opens the egg at his shop and Belle strolls in, he’s astonished. If there was one sentiment that sang in this episode it was that reunion. Emile de Ravin and Robert Carlyle killed it. Even if we got only one episode of them together, I thought their reuniting was more triumphant than even Snow and Charming’s, and we follow them along their treacherous journey all season.

As Emma stares shocked at Henry’s lifeless body, we can hear her exasperated breaths. She’s torn up, knowing that her lack of faith, not necessarily in fairy tales but in her son, was to blame is a heavy burden. But she pours her love into an “I love you,” and a kiss on his forehead and true love’s kiss radiates throughout Storybrooke, jolting Henry awake and reigniting the memories in all the former fairy tale characters’ heads. Again, seeing Belle remember how she loved Rumpy beats out even David turning around from leaving Storybrooke to hold Mary/Snow in his arms again. On the opposite end of the spectrum, everyone also remembers how they hate Regina, and while she would love to stay and be grateful Henry’s alive, she ducks out ready for a mob and cries into Henry’s pillow instead. That sounds a bit stalkerish though when you say it out loud, doesn’t it? Hm.

Despite having love reintroduced into his life, Rumpy hasn’t abandoned his lust for power. He leads Belle to the magical well we were introduced to in “What Happened to Frederick.” This was the well with water that can bring back what you’ve lost. Now we also have the nugget in our minds that Rumpelstiltskin told the prince he’s invested in true love, especially the powerful concoction Charming and Snow have, because of what its magic creates. With that veiled threat in my mind we see Rumpy pour the contents of true love’s vial into the well and a billowy, purple smoke blasts through town. I was intrigued that Henry knew it was bad right away. I mean, as we know from “Lost,” smoke of any color is bad, but considering that the return of magic was what the kid wanted, it’s curious how the idea of magic in the real world is so frightening. As Rumpy manically informs his new/old beauty, “Magic is power,” but couldn’t that power be acquired by the good guys? I suppose it’s interesting too because the other Sunday show I review, “Game of Thrones,” is also dealing with the perils of magic in its second season, so maybe this is an admirable direction for reinvigorating this series.

Regardless, the realization of their past while remaining in the real world is almost exactly what I was calling for. I didn’t want this to be adventure time in FTL, and I’m glad Kitsis/Horowitz got the memo. Now that the characters know, there’s more opportunity to seize their own destiny instead of being servile prisoners of the EQ. And the devilish grin upon her face when the smoke tumbled through suggested to me that Henry’s dalliance with death hasn’t softened her. I’ve already addressed my quibbles ad nauseum, but now props must go out to the writers for lurching ahead with this runaway train instead of trying desperately to slow it down. It’s reassuring to know—although still infuriating to a degree that it wasn’t apparent earlier— that there was a finite plan and trajectory.

The callbacks were pleasant, and at points even fun and sweet. Because we wandered aimlessly so much, I didn’t realize how much I cared about Belle, but on a practical level to have less space and time wasted was refreshing. Still, there needs to be a concerted effort to pace the season just like this episode. Obviously, don’t show your hand, but making us aware of what’s important wouldn’t hurt. It’s not a spoiler to say, for example, that Emma is the drop of true love Rumpy put into the curse as a safety valve. That’s more informative than just “she’s the savior.” In a fantasy world, we need structure and rules just as necessarily as we do in the real world. Because like our fairy tale counterparts in Storybrooke, we’re only human, so let’s respect that and not pretend we’re don’t need things like love to stay alive.

Raphael Sbarge, an accomplished actor of over four decades, sat down with Blast to talk "Once Upon A Time."

Raphael Sbarge, who plays Dr. Archie Hopper/Jiminy Cricket on ABC’s “Once Upon A Time,” recently took the time to answer of my questions. He delved into his character, reflected on the season, and spoke about the show’s improbable success in its first year.

BLAST: First, your career spans many recognizable titles in TV and film. You had a role on The Guardian as well as several parts on notable shows like Dexter, Heroes, 24, Prison Break, and the list goes on. No doubt you’ve had a prolific career and have been sought after for many parts. What in particular drew you to the role of Dr. Archie Hopper a.k.a Jiminy Cricket?

RS: Thank you for your kinds words.  Yes, I have been blessed with a career that had many wonderful opportunities.  Needless to say, there are hills and valleys in any actor’s journey, and one never knows what is coming next, and so you learn, as a matter of survival, to finesse the twists and turns that are inevitable. As far as Once Upon a Time is concerned, my feeling from the moment I read the script was that it was something special.  My concern (on the page) was that it was wildly ambitious, and could never be pulled off.  I mean, how on earth could they create two distinct worlds— and one a fantasy world, in a regular 8 day shooting schedule (the standard amount of time for a network show?)  Clearly they have exceeded expectations on all counts.  I shudder to think how this idea would have been done in lesser hands.

BLAST: Now, funny enough, I started reviewing Once Upon A Time for Blast a few episodes into the season and the first review I did was of your spotlight episode, “That Still Small Voice.” Tell me what it was like to delve into this fresh back-story for the Jiminy Cricket character and what may have surprised or intrigued about the somewhat dark direction the show took with his beginnings and transformation from man to cricket.

RS: When I first heard that it was “coming”( from our creators, Eddie Kitsis, and Adam Horowitz)  I got very excited.  When I finally got to read it, I was really moved by the story they had created— it made me weep, actually.  Jiminy’s story is not a happy one.  His “conscience” was born out of some terrible stuff, which, in my humble opinion, gives it some depth (and doesn’t make him a “know-it-all.”)   Once I got past the teary stage, then I got to the “Holy-Cow!” stage, meaning, this is a big bite, and one that will make a lasting impression.  There are moments, and this was one of them, when the “Hey, I’m portraying an icon and I hope I’m up to the challenge” gave me more than a few sleepless nights.   I was very happy with how it turned out, and been greeted with folks saying, “Wow!  I didn’t know that was Jiminy Cricket’s back story.”  Of course they made it up, but I consider this a huge compliment to their ingenuity.

BLAST: A follow-up to my last question about “That Still Small Voice,” your real-world arc in that episode surrounds Archie’s relationship with Henry. Will that doctor-patient relationship play a role as Emma seeks custody of her son?

RS: As I write this, I believe that you will have seen a scene with Emma and I that addresses that, yes [In last week's "An Apple Red As Blood].   There is clearly a struggle, a battle for Henry and for who knows best.  Adam and Eddie have set up a huge power play between two powerful women— both seemingly with Henry’s well being in mind, but with different methods, it seems.  Henry too, has emerging ideas about who he wants to spend time with.  Clearly we have not seen the end of this.  Archie, as the man in the middle, will have a lot to discuss.  Won’t it be interesting if the Mayor comes to the therapy room, too?

BLAST: A couple weeks ago in “The Return,” Dr. Hopper had his first pivotal scene since Jiminy Cricket’s “fairyback” (my term for the fairy tale flashbacks) where Archie has a mini-therapy session with Mr. Gold. This exchange fascinated me and a lot of fans because it gave Gold a vulnerability we hadn’t yet seen. How did you approach that scene and do you think Gold will return to Dr. Hopper for further therapy?

RS: I love that term, “fairyback!”  You may have coined something!  Ha!  Yes!  We got tremendous response to that scene— I LOVE Robert Carlyle, and was a huge fan of his even before I got to be on a show with him( and now that I get to watch him every week, my appreciation has only grown!)    We had a blast together, and I do hope we have many more opportunities to explore some of the themes that got initiated in that episode.

BLAST: ”The Stranger” was one of my favorite episodes of the season, and you as the voice of Jiminy Cricket played a significant role. Can you tell our readers a little more about how you feel your character played a vital part in Geppetto and Pinocchio’s story (on the show)?

RS: I loved this episode too (but I have so many favorites now, its hard to pick one out, personally).  Tony Amendola who plays Gepetto, quite by coincidence, is an old friend of mine.  We have known each other for 25 years, and done more plays together than I can count.  He is such a wonderful actor, and I was incredibly proud of him.  I loved too, the last moment in the episode when August/ Pinocchio says to his father, “I want to fix things.” Killed me.   I was there doing off camera Jiminy work for the scene at the enchanted tree, when Gepetto and Jiminy have a tiff— and was so pleased that we got to revisit the painful past between these two.  There is a lot to mine, in that relationship I think.  And, needless to say, the episode was just wonderful!

BLAST: Can you speculate at all about how Archie/Jiminy Cricket will factor in next season? If you can’t speculate, what would you like to see for Archie/Jiminy in successive seasons?

RS: Well, I am in the dark as much as you are, frankly ( the story lines to future episodes are a very closely guarded secret, especially for next year).  But that said, I will be interested to see if we get a chance to explore Archie’s love life and or his life in the town outside of his time in the office.  As well, I would love to see more time with Mr. Gold, or Emma, or the Mayor in the therapy room.  Based on the finale, I would say there is a lot of job security ahead for a therapist in Storybrooke.

BLAST: Do you approach your character as separate entities (Archie Hopper AND Jiminy Cricket) that you play differently (distinct voices, personalities, demeanors), or do consider them as one person at two places in time that happens embody a human and cricket form?

RS: This is a very interesting question.  They are, I believe, as you suggest, the same person, in two places at once.  One has a broader view of things, and one is locked in time.  And there is indeed a different voice that Jiminy has.  But, they are both bound by a conscience, born of some hard knocks, and a desire to help others find their way.

BLAST: Obviously, doing the voice of a CGI cricket is a lot different from playing a human therapist. What can you tell us about filming the Jiminy scenes and how involved you are in the process?

RS: It is a fascinating experience.  Completely different from any other I have ever had on a set.  I mean, to be an actor in the scene, playing it full out, but to always be off camera is very unusual.  The actors in the scene, ON camera have been very thankful that I am there to do it (and not a script supervisor, reading lines from way off set, as is the norm).  It has given me, as well, a chance to find him amidst the action, and not just on a dark sound stage by myself.  I have done a lot of voice over work in other mediums (in video games, and commercial work), and it is a particular skill.  But, this is unique in my four decades as an actor.

BLAST: As a Lost fan, I have great respect for Adam Horowitz and Edward Kitsis. I often talk in my reviews about the similarities the shows share. Kitsis and Horowitz use flashbacks in both to add depth to characters, and I talk about the theme of faith vs. reason—a continuous thread in Lost and something Emma is struggling with mightily on Once Upon A Time. What is it like to work with those two (Kitsis and Horowitz) and what elements of Lost do you think they’ve carried over to this show?)

RS: Wow. Big question.  You elucidate the theme quite beautifully. I would say simply, that it is a marvel to work with them. They have created a very, very complex world, with distinct rules, and clear structure (very hard to do).  I don’t know if I can speak to how Lost themes or elements have carried over, but I can say that I am constantly surprised how they are able to surprise me.  I mean, I watch television.  I work in television.  More often then not, I can anticipate where the story is headed, who the killer is, or where it might be headed.  With this show, I never know where they are going next, and this seems to be one of the things that fans are so excited about (amongst others, of course).  What they have done is create a world of characters that are both good and evil, but complex, and multidimensional.With the Evil Queen or Rumplestilskin, we see evil deeds, with devastating consequences, but we also get to see the cost, the pain, the horror of their interior life, that gives us compassion for them, even as we love to hate them.
This is no easy task— and to do it week after week, I am as I say, slack jawed at how they can balance so many stories at once. I feel at times like a squealing fan, and when people tell me ( as they often do), “I’m totally addicted to your show.”  I say, “I know!  Me, too!”

BLAST: To be honest, it seemed improbable this series would last. It’s such a high-concept show that asks a lot of its audience in terms of patience and trust that it will all become clear soon. Though it helps that the source material includes familiar and timeless tales like Snow White and Pinocchio. But against formidable odds, it has a huge following and is the most watched new drama. Are you surprised at all by the show’s success?

RS:  I am 100 percent surprised by the success.  Not as any disparagement to any of us.  But, just because the odds of any new show finding its audience is slim to none— let alone to be dubbed the “most watched new drama.”  Just as I was writing these answers to you,  I just got an email from Adam and Eddie saying it was official, we are picked up for next year (thrilling to hear!).   Based on the honor of Most Watched, we all felt pretty confident, but needless to say, after years of doing this job, it makes you very humble and grateful for those rare moments when something comes together and works.  This is one of those rare moments.

BLAST: here’s some incredible acting on this show (yourself included, obviously ha-ha). Who have you most enjoyed working with?

RS: I feel like I am on an All-Star team, and every time I come to the set, the level of  commitment and pride that we all share is very evident.  In fact, it is shared by every department— camera, props, costumes— even the guy who watches our cars in the parking lot told me how proud he was to be on this crew!   We all feel like we are on something very special.

BLAST: Overall, what have you considered most rewarding about working on Once Upon A Time and playing Archie/Jiminy?

RS: As actors, we are innately story tellers.  We are, of course, completely reliant on the world that is created by the writers, and the elements that they craft for us.  What is most rewarding?  The absolutely breathtaking stories that we get to tell, every week.  I am so incredibly grateful.

BLAST: For our readers, what should fans know before going into the finale? Will their minds be blown? Can fans look forward to more answers (like the many provided in “The Stranger”) or will more questions arise?

RS: I can’t tell you. But, even if I could, wouldn’t you rather find out yourself?  So much more fun to unwrap you own Christmas present, isn’t it?  :)  What I will say is this, prepare for a big finish!

BLAST: Thank you so much for your time, Mr. Sbarge. It’s been a pleasure and an honor to speak with you and I wish you (and Archie/Jiminy) all the best. I hope I get to speak with you in the future regarding Once Upon A Time and possibly any other roles you take on.

RS: And, thank you for these great questions!

The Evil Queen (Lana Parilla) teases Charming (Josh Dallas) by showing him her secret weapon: a poisoned apple.

Emma doesn’t seem so stubborn to me now. I’m having just as much trouble believing this whole curse thing and I’ve known from the beginning it’s “real.”

At this point, I thought all the rules had been established. There’s no magic in this world, Emma’s the only one who can break the curse and no one but Emma can leave Storybrooke. Well, it turns out we weren’t given all the facts. Apparently, Emma, the one person who could break this spell, the one person who has a chance of “bringing back the happy endings” as Henry so nauseatingly put it, cannot be killed by Regina. Why? Well, because that would break the curse. Wait, run that by me again? The Queen was so distraught about Snow White’s “happy ending” that she enacted a curse that would have a GIGANTIC loophole? Or, the curse is virtually indestructible as long as people don’t act predictably. Let me explain.

Here’s how this looks, from afar. The queen can hardly do anything to stop Emma, or she can do anything except kill Emma. My whole Faith vs. Reason argument has some teeth now. The only thing stopping Emma from saving everyone, and inversely the glue that keep Regina’s curse airtight is faith. As Regina’s dream forewarned (shot in the cheesiest, most cliche manner imaginable, and so goddamn obvious), the danger isn’t that Emma has the magic to reverse the curse, it’s the idea that she could rile everyone up to turn on her. As Mr. Gold surmises, “They will be looking for blood.” If Emma suddenly believes Regina is the Evil Queen and that Henry’s beloved book is true, then she is that magnetic figure who could conjure up a good ol’ fashioned mob. But of course Regina can’t eliminate this rabble-rouser that could make the whole town call for her death. Why? Because Rumpelstiltskin said so. Um, okay. Then why would she agree to that?

On the flip side, even if Emma turns a corner and starts to trust her son and believe that fairy tales are possible, all our vile EQ has to do is not kill Emma and evade death herself. And here’s where my whole “religious allegory” theory gets interesting. The only way Emma can ensure her friends live to see their happy endings is to sacrifice herself. If she can provoke Regina to kill her, that is. She would be the savior in the most Biblical sense, because she absolved the sins of these non-believers so that they could be happy again. Or, it becomes the most boring game of chicken EVER. “You’re not gonna kill me! I bet you won’t!” But then there’s the matter of, will Emma killing Regina effectively end the curse, anyway? And one question for Mr. Gold/Rumpelstiltskin. If you want the curse to be broken now, because your son isn’t in Storybrooke like you’d hoped, or whatever your motivation is this week, why don’t you just…reverse it? I mean for god’s sake, it’s your freaking curse! Wouldn’t you know how it works?

Our problem here is MAGIC. Magic as a solution to a problem is lazy and a great way to obliterate the tension in drama. Most great conflict is derived from choice. The easy way or the hard way. Good or evil. Life and death. But when the safety valve of magic is present, there’s always a way out. And I suspect that next week, with the astronomical success this show has had, Emma won’t be saving the day and reversing the curse. Then what would the show be? Fairy Tale Adventure Hour. No thanks. What I’m guessing happens is that some version of the reset button is pressed. Like the Joker and Batman (but not nearly as compelling or twisted) they will “do this dance forever.”

And does anyone else find it odd that Emma’s supposed to save everyone, but none of us know what that means? Yes, it would mean ending the curse, but is it simply a matter of “waking everyone up” like Desmond did on “LOST?” Once Emma gets wise, what does she do with that knowledge? That’s why my sacrificial lamb theory seems to be the only plausible solution. If it’s true, that’s a hell of a twist on happily ever after, but it would feel like a hell of a waste. Some felt that way about “LOST,” and for some that’s justifiable, but this has been way too frustrating of a ride to endure for some spiritual, metaphorical payoff. I wouldn’t mind if OUAT was like an acid trip, some out of body experience that won’t become clear until I’ve come back down to earth. But this show feels like less of a hallucinogenic high and more like someone giving me poor directions. Yeah, yeah. It’s the journey not the destination. Well on this journey the kids keep needing to stop to pee and screaming, “Are we there yet?!”

And that’s my masterful little segue into the actual car trip that starts the episode. After Regina’s “in case you didn’t know Regina was anxious about death” dream that spoon-fed us Regina’s current mental state, we pick up inside Emma’s car where she plans to take Henry far away from his wretched mother. Heart’s in the right place, but oh my could that backfire. Henry, for once, is the voice of reason. Well, his “reasons” involve saving everybody, but he knows his bio-mom is solving her problems by running and he jerks the wheel, veering them off the road. They aren’t hurt, but Emma gets the message and turns around.

Mary Margaret is rightfully pissed off that Emma would have left without saying goodbye to her “family.” She specifically calls Emma out for reverting, which I’m glad someone mentioned since I was fascinated by last week’s regression. Emma realizes she has to figure out what’s best for Henry so she does coffee with Dr. Hopper. He doesn’t definitively say that Henry’s better off with Emma versus Regina—I’m guessing his reluctance isn’t entirely genuine since he used this exact scenario as leverage for his job against Regina earlier in the season—but he’s certain this war of theirs can only be harmful to the kid’s psyche (especially since he already thinks I’m Jiminy Cricket and you’re….Jesus I guess).

After being rejected by Gold (ain’t no magic powerful enough to get me to help you win babe), Regina seeks her own magical ace in the hole to tip the scales. She enlists The Mad Hatter. I’ll give points to the writers for a creative way to summon him—a calling card attached to his daughter’s bicycle. Of course he watches her even though she doesn’t know who he is. Her request is that he use his hat, which she has been kept from him (for obvious reasons like extortion), to travel back to Fairy Tale Land to retrieve something for her. What does he get in return? His memory wiped. He’ll have no recollection of the daughter he lost. Again, I’m a sucker for psychology so this request of his intrigued me. When we get a glimpse into how much of a rouse their “happiness” was in the FTL, I’m mystified. When we’re back to broad battles of good vs. evil, curses with conditions, and fairy warfare (more on that next) they lose me.

Our fairyback this week consists of a failed rescue mission and the quintessential Snow White tale of the apple. Last we saw, Prince James had been captured by his adoptive father, King George. For his treason—refusing to marry King Midas’ daughter—he’ll be guillotined. But as the blade drops it turns to water. The EQ herself storms in and buys Charming off the king’s hands. She is using him as bait to lure Snow White. So there’s strike one against the rescue. I knew the whole time she’d fail! If she wanted Snow to come and get him, why would she make it so easy? Come on, people. Think with your brain. Strike two against the rescue mission, terrible castle CGI. Though I love seeing cute girls kick butt, whether it’s Ginnifer Goodwin or Scarlett Johansson in The Avengers (SO GOOD btw), I’m sold. But the castle backdrop was a laughingstock. And strike three? Fairies. Dear Lord, the fairies. When the whole dwarves yielding pickaxes and Snow White going MMA on the royal guards is negated by pretty fairies in a flying V dropping glitter bombs, it just robs a fight sequence of its cool factor INSTANTLY.

Once Snow arrives at the cell and discovers that Granny’s Admiral Ackbar impression was right (for those who don’t get the reference watch Star Wars for crying out loud, but the line is “It’s a trap!”), the Evil Queen interrupts their cross-magic mirror reunion with the most unnecessary line the show may have ever used, “I had to stop you. I have no interest in cleaning tongue marks off my mirror.” Ew, Regina. Why’d you have to go and get all nasty. Their love is pure. Why you gotta dirty it up like that? So EQ makes things awkward and then defines what a parlay is (who hasn’t seen at least ONE pirate movie) and they agree to meet where “it all began,” which is ominous before the commercial break speak for “where you saw me and my stable boy kissing.”

At their meeting, Regina guilts Snow about how she was the worst child ever because she couldn’t keep a goddamn secret. She shows her Daniel’s grave, blames her for her mother ripping out his heart (again, I think her beef is with mom) and tells her she can pay penance if she eats her poison apple. Skeptical, (because, well, it sounds like it might kill her), Snow asks why should she? Regina replies, because I’ll kill your boyfriend if you don’t. Damn, she’s sneaky! So Snow willingly eats the apple and turns into “a tomb to house all her regrets.” So, wannabe Shakespeare talk for “she’s in a coma.” This sets us up for the pilot where Charming kisses her awake (DISCLAIMER: This does not work on most coma patients).

Conveniently, when Mad Hatter opens the portal to retrieve the famed apple—which was so painfully telegraphed when he said, “Maybe I can reach through and grab something. But it has to be small enough to fit in my hand.” HAHAHA—it’s just been chewed on by Snow and has rolled downhill into the magical sinkhole they made. It was a nice touch that the magical catalyst they needed was the ring her stable boy proposed to her with, I must say. Then Regina bakes it into an apple turnover that she gives to Emma after they agree on a rough custody agreement. This leads into what I thought was the best scene because despite Henry’s atrocious overacting, it was the most grounded in reality. Emma tells Henry that she is leaving Storybrooke, but that she’ll visit and the kid is devastated. No matter the reason, separating a kid from love is just cruel and it got to me. Then Henry eyes the turnover and makes a desperate move for his mama. He bites into it to prove the curse is real and he drops to the floor. If Emma still has trouble buying into the book now, I think she’s swimming DEEP in denial river.

This final twist was sure to make many a viewer gasp, and I agree with it as an apt way to appeal to Emma’s issues with believing, whether in herself or in something she can’t figure out—after all she’s an expert in lie detection. Still, the mechanics that got us here are shoddy. The boundaries under which magic manifests in this world are a permeable membrane that allows in any deus ex machine it pleases. When a fleet of fairy bombers can take out a couple dozen knights, it’s no longer magical. Doubt and disbelief are what make those moments where we see the beyond all the more enchanting.When wicked curses start resembling contracts, it’s clear they’ve lost sight of why we love fairy tales. It’s about beating the odds, not rigging the game.

P.S. “Once Upon A Time,” I know it’s a season finale preview, but the “Requiem for a Dream” theme music was a little much. You already take this whole fairy tale, cross-dimesion epic too seriously, no need for more theatrics.

Geppetto (Tony Amendola) cradles his son, Pinocchio, after he's transformed from a puppet into a real boy.

Emma is the only thing standing in the way of happily ever after. All she has to do is believe in love, in magic, and in herself, and all that was lost will be returned. So August should be able to provide that faith, right? I mean, he’s clearly a charmer with a rad bike and a way with words. Why wouldn’t she become inspired to take on the Evil Queen, save her son, and by breaking the curse, reassemble a once thriving land? Well, it’s a little more complicated than that. And while some fans are surely screaming at their screens in frustration, this hitch in the plan is the best twist Kitsis/Horowitz have provided so far.

I know I’ve sounded like a broken record, or the boy who cried “LOST,” but the resemblance is uncanny after last night’s episode. Faith vs. Reason was the central conflict that guided the contentious relationship between LOST’s main two protagonists, Jack and Locke. That same dichotomy has been tapped into here. Except the battle between philosophies is an internal struggle for Emma. What if like LOST, this show isn’t about the answers. Maybe it’s less about the happily ever after and more about the question, what is happiness? Emma denies her destiny as August pleads for her to see what’s right in front of her. He’s proven to her that her whole life has led to this moment where she can save everyone from misery. And admirably, the writers stick to their character’s guns and say, “Well that’s too much of a burden, I don’t want that.”

So the question then becomes, how will they be saved if not by the savior? God damn, it’s got the same religious overtones LOST did too! LOST SPOILER ALERT! Lost ends with all of the Flight 815ers exiting a church into a blinding light that represents the after life. Could the trajectory of OUAT lead to the resurrection of the chosen one? I don’t think the parallels are arbitrary, either. The connection goes deeper than just shared writers. There’s LOST references and allusions in nearly every episode, and this was no exception. When August mentions the day the clocks start moving again, the day he started having shooting pains in his leg, what time was it? 8:15 A.M. Flight 815, people? And when August (a.k.a Pinocchio, which I’ll get back to) falls out of the tree into a new world without magic, a plane flies overhead. Coincidence? Even if the writers are screwing with us or just paying homage, the legacy of that show looms large here as the emphasis seems to be steering towards questions and not answers.

But it wasn’t only my empty wishes for a LOST reincarnation that made this easily one of the top three episodes of the series, but a fairyback that reminded me why this technique can be so effective. When the writers use the familiarity with the tales to their advantage it often allows them some creative space to beef up these characters. August and Geppetto owned this episode with their emotionally resonant reunion as well as the ways in which their selfishness altered the future irrevocably.

We’re transported to the tail-end of Pinocchio’s legend where he and Geppetto are evading the monstrous whale. Pinocchio pleads with Geppetto to use their life saver to save himself. He’ll be fine since he’s wooden and can float. The scene incorporates the best CGI I’ve seen on this show, and I can only speculate that the viewership has something to do with that. The quality was cinematic and it’s timed with the recent declaration of the Nielsen ratings—OUAT is the most watched new drama.Washed up on shore, Geppetto sees an unconscious Pinocchio and cries for his revival. The Blue Fairy descends upon them and grants his wish by turning Pinocchio into a real boy. The only condition of his boyhood is to always be brave, truthful and unselfish. These terms create a underlying tension in the real world since this must be involved in August’s sickness.

In the real world, Emma’s on a mission for Henry. She decides she’ll hire Gold as her attorney and assures Mary Margaret that she’s ready for motherly responsibilities. August, after installing a medieval lock on their door to keep out Regina, implores Emma to see the bigger picture, to have faith that he can help her get her kid back. Her response: “My kid needs me, I don’t have time for faith,” is a preview of her breakdown at episode’s end. Realizing his influence on her is weak, August meets with Gold, asking him to deny her counsel so that she’ll run to him. When Gold laughs at the idea he can be trusted, we’re reminded of Pinocchio’s propensity to bend the truth. For me, this was an instance where OUAT proved it can do subtle with its parallel worlds.

Fast forward to the end of the FTL, when the Blue Fairy requests Geppetto build a wardrobe out of the last enchanted tree to house a pregnant Snow White and her husband, Charming. The child, as the prophecy goes, will restore the magical realm. But Geppetto afraid for his boy’s safety, bargains to have Pinocchio take the second spot in the tree. Jiminy tries to talk him out of this foolishness, the child should not be without its parents. Geppetto nastily refers to the cricket’s horrid beginnings by saying he will help him like he helped his parents—a callback to “That Still Small Voice” where we learn that Jiminy’s parents killed Geppetto’s parents for their belongings. The Blue Fairy grants his wish anyway, and allows Pinocchio to take Charming’s place.

August whisks Emma away on his hog out of Storybrooke to tell his story. Is the reason they aren’t hurt because they were protected by the enchanted tree? Anyway, he brings her to a diner that causes Emma anxiety. The reason why is that’s where she was found as a baby. August then drops the bomb that the seven year-old boy who discovered her was him! Unconvinced, he uses details that weren’t reported by the papers like the blanket she had with her name monogrammed on it. Then he tells her how they arrived in this world through their tree portal and that her fate’s to save them all. Thinking he’s got some screws loose, Emma starts to walk away when August falls to the ground in searing pain. He explains that his sickness is actually him returning to his old wooden form. It’s punishment for not being there when Emma first settled in Storybrooke. August had lost his way and was tempted by Phuket—the real world equivalent of Pleasure Island (and the place where Jack ran away to in “Lost.” Seriously, I can keep going). Now he’s paying the steep price for not being the guardian she needed.

Pinocchio ends up being appointed Emma’s guardian because Snow does not go with her newborn in the tree. Due to a premature birth, Pinocchio and Geppetto are told he must give up his spot so that mother and child will be together. Geppetto obviously, disobeys. He instead makes Pinocchio promise to be the child’s protector. Jiminy warns of the temptations he’ll face (Thai prostitutes, it’s gotta be) in this new world without magic, but as long as he’s brave, truthful, and unselfish he’ll be fine. But as we know, August eventually abandons his charge when his overbearing and unloving foster parents give him reason to ditch. It’s a cheap excuse, but no matter the cause it wasn’t smart to entrust a seven year-old with a baby’s care, so it was inevitable.

Emma’s reluctance persists when August shows Emma his wooden leg and her ignorance is so powerful that it distorts what she sees, a real human leg. She doesn’t want to save everyone, she doesn’t want that responsibility, and Jennifer Morrison sells me on her psychology here that she’s looked out for herself for so long that she isn’t ready to be a savior. The only person she is willing to rescue is her boy right now. Therefore after her confrontation with August, she makes the rash decision to walkie-talkie Henry and ask if he wants to escape Regina. The boy says “More than anything” and she peels off, ready to run from all the madness of this town and to deny her destiny. On some level, I wonder if she does believe, but is too afraid to fail.

This complexity has eluded Emma in the past because we thought she had no backbone. Turns out she has the capacity to be the hero they’ve been waiting for (but didn’t know it) and she’s just too insecure and dependent on reason for her survival. This direction for Emma and the series is excellent. I’m not sure how long it can sustain itself, however knowing the once inevitable return to glory may be thwarted not by evil but by good standing by is a refreshing take on what I was beginning to suspect was a stale, but fun series. Now it has the legs to become something thrilling, yet layered with sophistication to contemplate. Can happiness be found in Storybrooke if the savior never comes to take them to FTL/Heaven?

I even appreciated the sidebar this week as Regina is killed with kindness. When she comes to school to sour Mary Margaret’s return, her wickedness is rejected by Mary Margaret’s forgiveness. Ginnifer Goodwin delivers these chilly lines like only she could, sweetly yet viciously: “Your life must be so incredibly sad that you only experience joy from ruining others’ happiness.” Damn Mary Margaert, that’s way too cold. You can tell that the words follow Regina, hitting hard enough that she seeks the affection of Mary Margaret’s former lover, David.

Her engine won’t start so David offers her a lift and she insists he stay for dinner. After David devours his lasagna he delivers his second groaner line in two weeks, “You really know how to work some magic.” That much cheese is just unhealthy. Regina then recounts the day she found David. I noticed the parallels between how both August and Regina failed to make strong connections with “how I found you” stories. I’m not sure they relate, but maybe it has to with the fact that both Emma and David need to find themselves, their true idenities, and on some level they reject others thinking they know them? Well, Regina misreads David’s graciousness as a green light and he denies her advance when she leans in for a kiss. My impression is it wasn’t just a way to get back at Mary Margaret and that she is devastatingly lonely. When she throws the wine glass at the mirror it’s a tip off. It must remind her that the one person who adored her (her “mirror” Sidney Glass) is behind bars, and nobody else out there loves her. She needs David, even if it’s just his pity, but she may have squandered that by asking for too much.

“The Stranger” ends on a hopeful note when my thesis that the series may take the route of “finding happiness without happily ever after” gets an affirmation. August stumbles upon his dad’s clock shop and lends him some pointers. Geppetto says August’s father must be proud and August wonders if that’s true with all the mistakes he’s made along the way. Geppetto delivers the icing on the cake, “You realize your mistake and try to fix it. If I had a son that would be enough for me.” Brimming with pride and overwhelmed by his father’s indirect forgiveness, August volunteers to be Marco’s (Geppetto’s alter ego) assistant. He accepts and its such a moving moment. August has for all intents and purposes failed his father, but the man accepts him without knowing him, unconditionally. That’s not fake or manufactured, that’s real, and a byproduct of a wonderful fairyback that didn’t need to justify itself with forced parallels. It belonged by being what this show is at its core, a romanticizing of human relationships and the magic comes from them.

It was imperfect, but it accomplished everything you would hope an episode of OUAT would. It was innocent, fun, mesmerizing, inspiring, while still making us fearful that good may not win this time. Henry has faith, Emma has reason not to, and in the final two episodes OUAT asks us, what about you?

August's (Eion Bailey) identity is shrouded in fog as he searches for some magic in Storybrooke.

Three weeks ago now, “The Stable Boy” billed itself as the big reveal. It was going to answer the supposedly essential question of why the hell the Evil Queen hated Snow White so damn much. I thought the episode had its redeeming qualities—the girl who played Young Snow White, Bailee Madison, was a dead wringer for a younger Ginnifer Goodwin for one—but I was unsatisfied with the answer, which was just a variation of the usual conflict in Fairy Tale Land: lost love.

However, after seeing tonight’s episode I appreciate the brunt approach of that episode even more. Though creatively the backstory was stale, at least that question isn’t being dangled before me anymore. “The Return” is the perfect name for this episode because it took all the momentum back to where we started. In the real world, more questions heaped on the existing ones and virtually everything returned to the status quo. Thought the appearance of not-dead Kathryn would mean Emma’s one step closer to exposing Regina? Nope. Lovesick puppy Sidney Glass fabricates a confession that absolves Regina of any suspicion. Thought you might find out who exactly August is? Well, for a while that looked like a sure thing, then the rug was pulled out from under us. Oh, and were you wondering what would motivate Mr. Gold/Rumpelstiltskin to play for both teams (No, not like he’s bisexual. Like he’s helped both Emma and Regina sabotage one another)? That just gets all fogged up. And remember when Emma promised she was finally gonna start playing dirty to take down Regina? Well, she does that again. Except this time she explicitly mentions that she’ll take back her son. All right! Some finite goals, that’s progress, right?

Truthfully, it’s starting to feel like this whole season has been one long pre-game warmup for this last stretch of episodes. Most fairybacks have involved characters with little-to-no importance concerning the big picture: Red Riding Hood, Belle (will she ever be released from the basement of the hospital?), Cinderella, Mad Hatter, Grumpy and the list goes on and on. While some of these offbeat episodes have been engaging, the fairybacks I have been most drawn to are the ones that have impacted the main players. If it hasn’t revolved around Rumpelstiltskin, Snow White, Charming or Regina, it’s difficult to get invested because I hardly know them in another context. And ironically, because so much airtime has been occupied by ancillary characters, I feel like I don’t know as much about the stars as I should.

And if Kitsis/Horowitz should have learned one lesson from their time on LOST, it’s that the saving grace of a show with an intricate mythology, one that will create more questions each week than it resolves, is compelling characters. While I still get a kick out of the sardonic delivery of Jennifer Morrison, Emma is a nobody. She has trust issues, she’s good at detective work, and she’s grown to love her son, Henry. Did I miss anything? And while Mary Margaret and David may be the most multi-dimensional characters, they’re thrown into the same situations. Mary Margaret wants him in her life, then David messes up his chance. A repetitive ride could be thrilling, but there’s no sense of danger since we already know how this on-again/off-again relationship ends. Happily ever after does not get my heart racing.

While I feel harsh for beating up on OUAT like this, I wouldn’t be so hypersensitive if I didn’t think the ingredients for a heckuva show were here, especially when I don’t believe OUAT’s ambitions are similar to that of LOST. I could be wrong, but LOST was inherently a more avant-garde show. It employed religious allegories, time travel, and electromagnetism in an effort to create a dense universe that would say something about the very meaning of our insignificant lives. To me, OUAT is a recycling of old material, inherently less adventurous. But its source material is rich enough that you could create something entertaining and even enlightening if you wanted. But fun seems to be the target for his show. And I don’t want or need it to be more than that. Still, I feel like I’m being asked to forgive A LOT before I can just sit back and enjoy.

Now that the 700-word, I mean pound, gorilla is off my back, I’ll admit to being impressed with some of what transpired tonight even if upon reflection it felt empty. While watching I did a few double takes, and possibly even puddled a bit for Rumpelstiltskin. We began with August’s leg twitching something fierce, the pain seeming unrelenting. He joins his buddy Henry to get Operation: Cobra rolling. Although, August is slightly dishonest in that he uses Henry to tend to a personal matter. With Henry diverting Gold’s attention in the store, August scours the office. Gold finds him eventually and pretends to have gotten lost. Suspicious, Gold breaks into August’s room at the B+B and finds a drawing of the infamous dagger that had given him his dark powers as Rumpelstiltskin.

In the FTL, those dark powers are alarming Rumpy’s son Baelfire. While he used his influence to bring the Ogre Wars to a truce, he also become ruthless in protecting his son, turning one passerby into a snail just to crush him. Understandably, Baelfire wants to find a way to reverse this enchantment that has turned his dad into a malevolent force. Rumpy’s sure that the magic is irreversible. Only if he’s killed by the dagger will the power be transferred to another soul. Determined, “Bae” makes his dad promise that if he finds another way, he’ll oblige. Immediately, it was clear to me that this was the “one deal” he tells Regina about earlier in the episode, the only deal he’s ever broken.

Now weary of this stranger that Emma describes hilariously as “A typewriter wrapped in an enigma wrapped in stubble” (there were many moments actually where I thought the writers might have been mocking themselves or at least their stiffly rendered characters), Gold tails him. He follows him to Mother Superior. After threatening to double the rent on the nuns—I keep forgetting he’s like the Trump of Storybrooke—she tells him that August sought counsel. He’s come to town searching for his father, and may have found him. Emma, in an almost insultingly observed B-plot, confronts Sidney Glass about the bug he installed in her office. When she realizes that he’s loyal to her because he’s in love with her, she shrugs it off, “Fine. Whatever.” Emma really was the comic relief for my frustration with this hamster wheel of an episode.

Baelfire racks his brain for a cure and consults his friend, Morraine. She suggests a great force of good magic, The Blue Fairy. The boy summons the fairy and she says she cannot return his father to who he was, but she can send them to a place where dark magic has no power. She produces a magic bean that she says he and his papa must follow if Rumpy’s to be restored to his old self. This sets us up for a devastating scene, possibly the best of the episode, where Baelfire plants the bean and a green vortex appears. Baelfire begs for his father to join him, but his cowardice gets the best of him. He had originally sought this power so he could protect his son, but now he’s so consumed with maintaining that power, he’s lost sight of what matters. He lets go of his son’s hand and Baelfire’s sucked in, and the portal closes. His cries afterward where he regrets not joining his son really were gut-wreching and possibly the most genuine emotion shown by someone not named Ginnier Goodwin, Jennifer Morrison or Josh Dallas throughout the course of the show. Good on ya, Robert Carlyle.

After an appointment with Dr. Hopper (oh yeah, him), Gold gets up the nerve to confront the man he believes is his son. And I’ll admit, Eion Bailey had me fooled too. When he said, “I guess all the lying can stop…Papa” I thought it was a done deal. But to Bailey’s credit he played spurned little boy as a grown man quite convincingly. And I thought, YES, this is what I waiting for. Real juice, real crossover of the fairyback and real world events. Then Rumpelstiltskin dug up the dagger and handed it to August to prove he has changed, and all the emotionally resonant material was killed by August turning the dagger back on his “dad.” Dammit is right. August isn’t Baelfire after all. That’s next week apparently. Why must you tease me with a huge development and then yank it away! The only real news of note is August is dying, and he needed the dagger’s magic to heal him. But as Gold points out, magic doesn’t exist here. That was the condition of the curse, which, obviously, was made by Rumpy himself so he could find his son. So while I’m glad Rumpy has a solid motivation, it doesn’t explain why he’d want to serve as a double agent. How does that help him reunite with his son? Enigma wrapped in enigma.

On the sidelines we had another Mary/David “It’s Over” moment. Oh can’t those crazy kids just kiss and make up! There’s also the classic case of using dialogue to convey overt thematic ties. When Mary talks about something out there keeping them apart and David replies, “Like dark forces?” I audibly groaned. I guess it was a nice change of pace to have David supply the groaner instead of the EQ. It was just so inauthentic, it was unforgivable. And yet, the exchange was almost redeemed by Mary’s chilling comeback to David’s “But I love you.” She twisted the proverbial dagger with “And that’s what makes it so sad.” See, that was honest and real, not tailored to relay exposition and reiterate a message. Why can’t we have more like that?!” says the oft-burned critic in the corner.

Although Giancarlo Esposito’s pathetic admission as Sidney was a deadpan mumble delight, I couldn’t help but think well, Emma’s gonna get angry that she’s been thwarted once again and promise to go Sarah Palin-rogue on her ass and it won’t happen. And yet, the finale approaches. SOMETHING must happen. And while I can appreciate how networks operate, and the need for monumental finales, couldn’t Emma have grown a tad more aware, shown some savvy or gone off the hinges just a smidge so that we wouldn’t come to expect disappointment from the anointed “savior?” I mean, I bet there were the haters who thought Jesus was just some hotshot carpenter, but I bet even he wouldn’t have put up with Regina’s B.S for this long. Sorry for the sacrilege, I just hope that regardless of how she changes the game, it feels like the tectonic plates have shifted. I’ll confess to at least loving how she categorized Regina as setting the board so no one could win, and promising she would play an entirely different game. Even if it feels like a campaign pledge, it was rhetorical candy. If only this episode could have been sweet till the last morsel. Instead, I felt manipulated like I was Pinocchio (who I presumed August would be as I mentioned in the comments last time to Mystic), and I don’t want no strings on me. Maybe The Blue Fairy will grant my wish…

Barbara Hershey stars as the mother who turns her daughter, Regina (Lana Parilla), into a wicked queen.

Well, there you have it, folks. The question that OUAT has insisted you have been begging for an answer to “why does The Evil Queen (EQ) hate Snow White so gosh darn much?” has FINALLY been answered! Rumpelstiltskin be praised! And what gift of enlightenment have our overlord writers bestowed upon us meager humans?

*Clears throat*

EQ used to be a delightful girl Regina who loved to ride horses bareback, and her mother was less than encouraging of her choices in recreation because they weren’t bringing her any closer to snagging a rich, upper class husband. But the reason she hasn’t gotten married is she is in love with the stable boy. Likes riding bareback, indeed. Anyway, Regina (her name in Fairy Tale Land too, I guess) doesn’t trust her mom, Cora (Barbara Hershey, amping up her camp factor) will approve since marrying him would be a step down on the social ladder.

Cut to Regina riding her beloved horse through the hillside after a a secret rendezvous with Daniel, the horse poop-scooping hunk, and suddenly a horse whizzes past with a little girl holding onto the reins for dear life. Regina rescues the child and the girl thanks her repeatedly for saving her life. They exchange pleasantries and—BOOM!—it’s a young Snow White.

I’ll just leave that tantalizing bit of mindf**k dangling there. Meanwhile, in Storybrooke, we’re transported a week into the past where Gold feeds Regina the plan to frame Snow for Kathryn’s murder. The only tidbit that I found revelatory was that the goal is not incarceration. Since they can’t jail her in the modest cells at the Sheriff’s office, she would have to be transported to some correctional facility outside of Storybrooke. But anyone who leaves Storybrooke, croaks. Also, Gold planted that key, as insurance, so that if she tried to flee, it would yield the same result. I knew that Gold was involved and guessed he was the Machiavellian mind behind it all, but there had to have been a more eloquent way to dump that information without an abrupt flashback.

At any rate, Regina stops by for a visit to Mary Margaret’s cell, just to rub her face in her misery. I dug that Regina was showing her vengeful self in a more sinister way, because usually she’s just twirling her mustache throwing banana peels in front of Emma. Her taunting felt more human, more grounded in bitterness. Whether that cold worldview is justified by the fairyback is something I’ll debate strongly, but it was good to see Regina as less of a prankster of more of a heartless woman out to deprive others of the happiness that was ripped from her.

Alan Dale also makes an appearance as District Attorney Spencer (not sure how this is an appropriate alter ego to King George, but whatever) to conduct a pre-trial interview of Mary Margaret. He grills her about how angry she must have been when Kathryn slapped her in public, and Mary starts off calm, sure that she didn’t want Kathryn “gone.” After recounting the ways in which her reputation was ruined though, Mary cracks. It fell pretty short of the realism achieved in “Law and Order” interrogations, but that’s mostly OUAT operating out of its comfort zone.

Grateful that Snow was saved from being trampled by her own horse (one of the most undignified ways to die), King Leopold uses Regina’s heroism as an excuse to cure his loneliness and proposes to the unsuspecting young lady. This was one instance where I flat out refused to suspend disbelief. I sympathize with a father who wants his kid to grow up with a mom. Hell, I even can feel for a man who misses a woman’s touch. What man doesn’t, like, all the time. But he has NEVER seen her in his life, didn’t even buy her dinner first, and lets face it—all she did was what any decent human being would do! Maybe we wouldn’t have been as flashy about it, but if I saw a kid clinging to a wild horse I would certainly call the police. So because she’s decent, and available, she’s it! I can forgive fairy tale contrivances like magic or fate, or true love (well, because that’s real, duh), but not behavior that disregards all logic and reason. If Leopold were high off his ass, maybe. Otherwise, no. Obviously, the ladder-climbing mother accepts the proposal.

Immediately, Regina runs to Daniel, the wannabe Brokeback Mountain man, and implores that they run away together. Considering you can’t say no to King Leopold, and her mother would surely use her powers (Oh yeah, she can  shoot stuff from her hands too) to keep the arrangement intact. Then Daniel proposes himself and as they lock lips to seal their union, and Snow stumbles into the stable. Indignant about what she’s witnessed she makes a mad dash for the woods and eventually Regina catches up. She schools Snow on true love and the kid perks up at the idea of such a powerful magic and swears she will keep her secret.

Speaking of powerful magic, what kind of sorcery did the casting department use to find a kid who looks so remarkably like Ginnifer Goodwin? And it doesn’t stop at an uncanny likeness. She nails the mannerisms, the expressions, even her speech patterns. It’s as if she studied Goodwin for months in preparation. Gotta hand it to them, they either lucked out big time or, someone in casting needs a significant raise. Bravo to this impressive young actress, Bailey Madison!

Emma’s investigation hits a snag, and August swings by and sees that she’s “grasping at straws.” He then starts into an awfully pedantic, but surprisingly astute lecture. He likens her detective skills to his writing: “If you get stuck, go back and reread, you might find a nugget of inspiration in what you’ve already done.” Emma acknowledges his wisdom and decides that with her new perspective she should visit the scene of the crime. Lo and behold, at the hole where Red dug up Kathryn’s heart she finds a shard from a shovel and bets it’s Regina’s. With Henry as inside man—a stellar moment of comedy is when he uses his Operation: Cobra code words and Emma admits, “Uh, I left my codebook at home”—she matches the shard to the shovel, but in painfully predictable fashion, when she comes back with a search warrant (the parameters of which are clearly fabricated) the shovel is missing. Shocker! Emma suspects August, her accomplice, squealed and he’s rightfully offended, but I feel like most viewers, myself included, knew that there were eyes and ears somewhere that tipped Regina off.

Then after some pressure from Cora whining about how she and Regina have drifted apart, the inevitable occurs. Reasoning that Regina shouldn’t lose her mother like she did, Snow divulges the secret upon which Regina’s future wrath hinges upon. Just as Regina is about to ride off into the night with Daniel, the horse and lady whisperer, Cora storms into the stable ready to shut it down. Regina pleads and pleads for her to be a loving parent and put her happiness first. It sure seems like a futile effort to argue with someone who says things like, “After all the sacrifices I’ve made!” and “It’s not your life, it’s mine!” Still, the couple falls for her calm and suddenly supportive demeanor. And as she relaying advice to Daniel about parenthood, she goes all barbarian and rips his heart out, crushing it into sand. She won’t console her daughter either, ranting instead about how “love is weakness, but power endures.”

This cutthroat attitude carries over to Storybrooke where Regina relishes in victory making Mary Margaret beg for her freedom. As I’ve already mentioned, this is the real-world evil I was hoping for, wielding her influence to make her enemies whimper in submission. It was the first time that I was sort of excited by her shenanigans, though I wish she was actually more in control since Gold could easily make the whole apparatus crumble from under her with how much she has depended on him. The showstopping moment is when she wipes away Mary Margaret’s tears as she screams that she’s innocent and doesn’t deserve this. Regina’s comforting words? “Oh I know, but you do deserve this.” Damn, it’s chilly in here.

In the coda to EQ’s evolution, she’s being fitted for her wedding gown and Snow says she’ll look beautiful for Daniel. The lightbulb goes off, and she asks Snow if she told her mother. In rare villainous form, she hides her disdain and assures Snow she isn’t mad. Under her breath she snarls, “I should have let her die on that horse.” As vital as it is for EQ to turn her vengeance upon Snow, I wanted real reason to question the princess’ squeaky clean image. I mean, although it was “true love,” her real-world counterpart is a mistress. Let’s give Snow some imperfections! Instead, she’s duped by Cora into believing she can trust her with the information. She’s still an innocent and does not deserve this crusade to destroy her. Cora deserves that and more! But EQ’s motivations for not turning on her mother are never explained. I assume some FTL equivalent of Stockholm Syndrome where the victim sympathizes with the aggressor, but that wasn’t on screen and it should be if this is the impetus for, well, everything that has happened.

In the final scenes, my suspicions were confirmed. Sidney Glass hid a bug in a vase he delivered to the sheriff’s office, which I remember seemed random, but it was subtle enough that I did forget about it, so well played, OUAT. Completely out of the blue though was the reveal of an alive Kathryn appearing in the alley behind Granny’s! I guess that means no more trial, which means no more bogus attempts at a legal drama, and tons of possibilities concerning how Gold pulled it off. He has to be the one behind her reappearance, right? He mentioned he could still “perform some miracles” to Emma.While I have my apprehensions about another character being motivated to do evil in the name of lost love, there were moments where I found myself unwillingly sucked in.

By surprising me with elevations in Lana Parilla’s performance, promise in Eion Bailey’s turn as August, the mysterious writer, and catching me off guard with the final twist, OUAT was able to balance out the absurdity of the fairyback where motivations did not match the vicious tone. For talking me off the ledge with trickery, OUAT effectively creates what Cora suggests may be the “fading illusion” of true love possessing the magic necessary to bring the show back from the depths.

There really is no greater sign of Hollywood being out of ideas than this recent trend of remaking classic fairytales. Have we run out of sequels, prequels and trilogies already? Aren’t there a few more obscure graphic novel heroes that we can attempt to make into summer blockbusters?

Following in the footsteps of 2011’s “Red Riding Hood,” “Mirror Mirror” attempts to bring a fresh, modern take to the familiar children’s story of “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs”. However, a few jarring differences from Disney’s adaptation cannot transform this classically boring tale into anything more than a predictable, laugh-less snooze-fest.

The story behind “Mirror Mirror” is just about as boring and cliché as a kid’s story can get. The tale begins with a happy and bountiful kingdom ruled by a beloved king. But one day the king disappears into the woods never to be seen again, and his Evil Queen takes over his rule. She taxes the people into poverty and uses magic to bring a state of constant winter to the land. She keeps the king’s daughter, Snow White, locked up in the castle, forbidding her to leave her room under any circumstance. Will a hero come along to stop the Queen from taxing the commoners to death?

The creators of “Mirror Mirror” try to disguise an unimaginative story by introducing stark variations to some aspects of the old animated film. The Seven Dwarfs are now grubby, thieving bandits who walk on stilts and steal from rich people who pass through their section of the woods. The “mirror mirror on the wall” is actually a magic portal that transports the Evil Queen to her own evil hideout, where she can communicate with her magical reflection. And some kind of dreadful beast roams the forests, causing the villagers to live in fear. All of these updates are superfluous and in no way help save the film.

Armie Hammer as Prince Alcott

The only redeeming part of “Mirror Mirror” is Armie Hammer (“The Social Network”) as Prince Alcott. Hammer successfully transitions from his previous serious roles in “Network” and “J. Edgar” to this silly role as a handsome fairytale prince. Legitimately amusing parts are very few and far between in this movie, but when they do occur they almost always concern Prince Alcott. The Seven Dwarves are meant to be a major source of hilarity but instead are mostly annoying. Julia Roberts as the Queen is equally irritating, and Nathan Lane as her bumbling servant is a lame re-hashing of Lefou from “Beauty and the Beast”.

As retched a film as “Mirror Mirror” is, it does deserve praise for one thing in particular. Actor Sean Bean, known for his roles in “The Lord of the Rings” and “Game of Thrones”, makes it to the end of the movie without being decapitated, shot full of arrows, blown up, or meeting his demise in any other hapless ways. That has to be why Bean agreed to appear in “Mirror Mirror”, because I can’t think of any other reasons.

With “Mirror Mirror”, Director Tarsem Singh has given us another disappointing flop after the bomb that was “Immortals”, which ended up with a 37% on RottenTomatoes. It’s a shame too, because if you’ve seen “The Fall”, you know that Singh is capable of making films that are not only visually stunning but also contain captivating narratives. Here’s to hoping he will soon right the ship and give us another great movie that will help us forget the bitter taste of the likes of “Mirror Mirror”.

The Mad Hatter (Sebastian Stan) takes his daughter to market in an Alice in Wonderland-themed episode.

This week’s OUAT prompted me to do something it hasn’t often. Think, real hard. I pondered an idea that hadn’t even entered my realm of possibility since the first frames of the pilot. What if…Fairy Tale Land (FTL) doesn’t exist?

I understand it seems like a given, the whole premise of the show centers around The Curse that has imprisoned them in “our world,” but what if that world is just imagination? What if it’s just a memory of a time that never was? “Lost” has tested the boundaries of alternate timelines/dimensions and life and death before, why not now? Heck, what if Storybrooke isn’t real? What if that isn’t reality, meaning an external world outside sensory experience, and they’re trapped in an psychological illusion, a la “The Matrix?” OUAT has proven to be a much more “accessible” program than “Lost” was, but could Kitsis/Horowitz be secretly constructing another sci-fi mindf**k?

Probably not. But even if the show is influencing the mere consideration that’s a huge positive. Since the pilot set up the structure of the two universes—one in the past and one in the present, existing as two separate worlds (even that is shaky when you think about the existence of magic and remnants of FTL materializing in the real world)—that relationship has gone unquestioned and untested. Until last week, when FTL memories bled into real world factuality.

This week expedited that bleeding by introducing the Mad Hatter a.k.a Jefferson (Sebastian Stan). In Storybrooke, Jefferson is a lonely man in a mansion who knows about The Curse, and believes his only way back to FTL is through his magic hat (which normally serves as a portal to Wonderland). During his real world stay he hasn’t been able to make a hat that works. The magic is absent. But he believes the good sheriff, Emma, is his glimmer of hope. When she came to town, the clocks started working (I guess they hadn’t been for like, ever) and this was proof to Jefferson that she possessed magic and he’s had a telescope fixed on her office ever since. That’s a normal reaction, right?

So, when Emma goes out looking for escaped suspect Mary Margaret, he walks along the road waiting to stage an accident. He’s not one of those freeloaders trying to get a settlement, he wants to earn the sympathy of Sheriff Emma and a ride home so he can drug and kidnap her. And well, that’s basically what happens. And surprise, surprise: Mary Margaret is there too, all tied up and stuff! It is worth noting though, that after Emma has been subdued by the sleepy tea (tea’s his thing, remember) she wakes up bound and gagged, but escapes from her restraints wicked easily. It was kinda badass. She uses her mouth to move a pillow to the floor, stomps on it so a tea cup falls off the coffee table, then uses the jagged edge to cut herself free. Where has resourceful Emma been all this time? Now I’m much more sold on her leading a police force if she can evade capture so well.

Over in FTL, it’s a hard knock life for a retired Mad Hatter who is also named Jefferson (more shattering of boundaries!). He’s a poor fellow who struggles to provide for his daughter, Grace, and she’s his whole world. So when the the Evil Queen (EQ) comes knocking, asking him for a favor that requires his special talents, he’s tempted. EQ could ensure that Grace never want for anything, but he decides abandoning Grace would be more detrimental than their current financial woes. Still in need of his skills, EQ (whose fairyback look was absolutely boobtastic this week) manipulates him by disguising as an old woman selling a stuffed rabbit at the marketplace. Grace thinks it would be a perfect addition to her dinner party (HA!) but Dad’s short. The cruel, masquerading queen doesn’t allow him to haggle and denies the girl her toy. This inspires the change of heart within Jefferson to help out EQ—just this once—in order to better his daughter’s life.

At the manor, cunning Jefferson intercepts the ladies as they escape, holding them at gunpoint. He forces Emma to tie up Mary Margaret again. He directs Emma to another room where he relays his Curse knowledge. Emma is still in denial, despite Henry’s insistence and frankly some damning evidence. Clearly, Jeff’s creep factor is through the roof, but we know he’s right and not crazy. But we’ve been conditioned to trust Emma’s judgment, and though he is separated from his daughter—she belongs to another family in Storybrooke that he spies on with his other telescope—a sane person doesn’t hold people at gunpoint to get what he wants: unless you’re Liam Neeson from “Taken,” or Jack Bauer on “24,” or…pretty much every man searching for his family in the movies or TV, ever. Therefore, I’m inclined to not believe him, but that would defy one of the fundamental truths of the show. The psychopath does make a salient point, however, about the dialectic of stories and truth and how the distinction is blurry at best. He also makes a poignant critique about how most people seek out a magical solution for their problems, but refuse to believe in magic. These sorts of philosophical questions are uncharted waters for OUAT, and probably too heady for its audience and too loaded for its breezy subject matter, but their bold attempt did not go unrecognized.

While holding Emma hostage, demanding she use her apparent “magic” to make his hats work again, he’s also escorting the EQ to Wonderland. She needs to retrieve something the Queen of Hearts stole from her. Upon entering, a expertly CGI-ed hookah-smoking caterpillar appears atop a giant mushroom, but then it speaks and CORNFEST 2012 begins. Roger Daltry (of The Who) lends his voice, and what do you guess he says? “Who…are you?” Am I the only one who finds this to be just the WORST case of needlessness? He literally says one line and it’s one of his song lyrics, and an unnecessary piece of dialogue in the first place? I know their budget has seen an influx due to ratings and it’s done wonders for their VFX, but REALLY? Rant over.

Jefferson and EQ approach the Queen Of Hearts’ maze, and we learn suddenly that the EQ can shoot fireballs from her hands. I wish they would outline exactly what her powers are, because at this point I assume she can get out of most situations. What she retrieves after she burns through to the center of the maze is her father, in a box. No, I’m not just making things up! This, however means tragedy for Jeff. Only the same amount that entered can leave Wonderland, and EQ has no qualms about swapping him out for daddy dearest. An odd detail, EQ shows remorse in her face when she breaks the news that he’s stuck, but her words convey cruelty, saying if he really loved his daughter he never would have left her, a bitter pill to swallow. ALICE IN WONDERLAND REFERENCES ALL DAY! Sorry.

Captured by the Queen of Hearts’ men, Jefferson initially withholds information of how he arrived in Wonderland, but then in a too-hot-for-TV move, a knight cuts his head off. But alas, no blood and he lives. They promise to reattach his body only when he shares the truth, so he tells them about the hat. Turns out to be a bad move since now he’s trapped in Wonderland until he can make the Queen of Hearts a new hat. And he lacks the magic necessary. So we’re left with the haunting image of Jefferson surrounded by mountains of misfires and mounds of failures.

Emma starts to question Jeff’s madness as she tries to craft him a magical hat, and she seems to empathize with his quest to reunite with his kid. We’re also treated to some weird chemistry between the two. Their breathy speech and close proximity imply they could kiss at any moment, but it might just be the palpable desperation on their tongues. And just as we start to believe Emma believes, she whacks him upside the head with his telescope. After a struggle, Mary Margaret kicks him out the window. When they look below to see the damage, his body is gone and his hat is bottom up. Did the hat work? Has he crossed over? No, John Edward get out of here! Oh, that’s a reference to the TV medium John Edward…oh never mind.

Flipping Mary Margaret the keys, she gives her the choice to run or trust that she’ll exonerate her. She implores she also stay because she doesn’t want to lose her family, “or friends or whatever.” So they hurry Mary Margaret back to the cell before Regina knows she left and Regina scolds Mr. Gold for not holding up his end of the bargain. Shocker of shockers, she was behind the planted key and Gold put it there. Apparently, he’s a double agent, which makes sense given he never scratches a back that won’t scratch him back, but I do believe he has taken a side. I’m unsure which, but my money is on him wanting to usurp Regina.

Our final scene is with Emma and Henry at a school playground. Grace, whose name is Paige in the real world walks by. Emma recognizes her from mad man’s telescope and asks Henry if she can inspect his book. The picture of Grace is a side profile, so there’s no guaranteeing a match, but Emma requests she keep the book. Is she FINALLY believing? It seems like this is the season’s ambition is to finally turn that tide, but I hope not. There needs to be a bigger payoff then “Emma’s on our team!” For the most part though, this was a harmless episode. It neither excited me, nor incited my wrath save a absurd use of a rock legend. It was equal parts detoured into Wonderland and focused on the main story. I’m anxious for the trial to be over and so relieved that next week they’ll finally address: what did Snow White do to ruin EQ’s life? They have laid such importance on this event that it will be hard for them to live up to expectations.

Sebastian Stan owned his spotlight this week, not overselling the madness or drowning out the established voices. Though Mad Hatter’s fairyback was par for the OUAT course, using a child as motivation, I liked that Jefferson acknowledged that the Curse is not being in the real world, it’s being separated from the ones you love. That detail might prove important later on. I could imagine a difficult decision down the road where a character might have to choose between the worlds. All speculation now, but thematically it’s significant that we have this consistency in message for the fairybacks. It’s an acute lens through which we can view them going forward. For keeping the ball rolling on the “bleeding realties” track and for maintaining a grave tone without frolicking into cheesy sentimentality territory, as the series unapologetically tends to, I’ll give credit where credit is due: there’s some magic in Storybrooke.

Snow White (Ginnifer Goodwin) gets in touch with the evil within, thirsty for the Evil Queen's blood.

I know these “Lost” alum love literary allusions, but this title seemed a little strong. I mean, does Ginnifer Goodwin seem like what Joseph Conrad had in mind for Kurtz?

Minor gripes aside, last night’s flirtation with evil was both infuriating and entertaining as hell. Some of the more annoying tendencies return, such as Regina’s groan-worthy fare and Henry, being Henry. And then there’s Snow White: a take-no-prisoners, pick-axe wielding, knight-torturing woman after my own heart. The slow reveal where she sings to a bluebird just to lure in it and swat at it with her broom was probably one of their best deployments of comedy yet. Turns out a Charming-size hole in her heart is the cause of her bitter ‘tude, but I gotta say: it was a major turn-on. Ginnifer Goodwin’s “dark side” was a pleasant surprise, even if it was a result of denying her true self. Most of the allure came from the pure unpredictability of what she would do to achieve her vengeful ends. I also yearned throughout the episode for her unadulterated brutality because the rest was so distastefully sugar-coated. The bad habit of repeating dialogue in both realms to emphasize a thematic tie was a well they drew from several times and only elicited obnoxious eye rolls from yours truly.

Lazy writing would be the wrong diagnosis. In my “professional” opinion, it stemmed from the blurring lines of reality that arose in last night’s moon-gravity leap forward in the overarching plot. Though the implication of this cross-world channeling was important to clarify, I felt that they underestimated their audience. Networks tend to do this, but I expected Kitsis/Horowitz to know better after working on such an experimental and innovative network show (in case you’re new, I liked “Lost,” and they wrote for “Lost”…moving on). Beat you over the head lines like “She has had her heart broken, and that can make you do unspeakable things” and “Sometimes evil stares us right in the face and we don’t even realize it,” call attention to themselves in the worst way. Like that kid who gets no love from their high-expectation parents so s/he seeks validation from everyone else. Look everyone, I’m doing something clever with parallelism—and irony!

With the help of CGI Jiminy Cricket (could you imagine if it was a dude in a costume? Hilarious.) the seven dwarves stage an intervention, where even Happy relays his grievances (she broke his mug!) and they force her to move out unless she starts to return to her old gleeful self. Snow agrees to leave, but not for their benefit: she wants head to roll. The queen’s gotta pay for (allegedly) killing her daddy, so she slings her pick-axe over her shoulder to hunt down the evil bi-otch. Moments later, she trips up a horse-riding knight and legit tortures him for information on the queen’s whereabouts. Her threatening monologue about diamonds and how they’re impervious to damage was awesomely diabolical. When she explains that her pickaxe, from the dwarf mines, is the only blade that can cut through a diamond (“So imagine what it could do to your soft flesh!) was the the sort of cutting-edge (pun intended) menace a writer dreams of having the opportunity to employ in dialogue. And the delight shows, especially in Goodwin’s cold delivery.

In the real world, Emma’s forced to book Mary Margaret to keep up appearances and not attract Regina’s wrath. And frankly, the evidence is piling against her. Her fingerprints are all over the box that likely contains Kathryn’s heart, AND said container is her jewelry box. Emma firmly believes in Mary Margaret’s innocence, but she needs to exonerate her dutifully or she’ll doom her friend to prison. Here’s where everyone’s least favorite precocious, fairy-tale zealot, Henry butts in, hoping to find the evidence that will vindicate his teacher. When he inspects the apartment with Emma, however, they find the murder weapon stashed in a heating vent. Discouraged, Henry seeks answers at the bottom of a mug of hot chocolate. Then the artist formerly known as Mysterious Biker Dude a.k.a August (ew) comforts the boy by professing his faith in The Book. In fact, he divulges to the kid his purpose in Storybrooke is to help Emma “see the light.” Essentially he is OUAT’s version of Desmond (am I right, Losties?) shepherding lost souls. He springs Henry into action, convincing him that with solid proof Emma will rally around his cause (Operation Cobra or “The lamest military operation name ever.”).

Back in FTL, Grumpy confronts Snow as she’s stripping the clothes off the knight (oh Ginnifer, how you tickle my fancy) and insists she let him help. He recommends seeking the counsel of Rumpelstiltskin since his potion is what altered her personality. She has no intentions of being cured, but she wonders if he can aid her in her mission. Rumpy does bestow a bow upon Snow that supposedly never misses it’s target, free of charge. Rumpy slyly assures her, “I’m invested in your future.” He never explains why he took her hair during their least deal (for the potion), but he drops a hint when he rambles on about how the only magic he hasn’t been able to bottle up is love. And if he could, he would be all-powerful. It’s a tidbit that intrigued me more than most they inserted into last night’s narrative because anything that empowers Rumpy means that EQ (the Evil Queen) will be unseated as the biggest of the baddies which is definitely my MO. I mean, Regina was seen skinning an apple with a pocket knife in this episode. A villain doesn’t get any more hammy than that.

Storybrooke alter-ego Mr. Gold also offers his assistance to Snow White’s doppelganger, Mary Margaret, agreeing to be  her legal counsel. Mary accepts, but like her counterpart she’s uneasy that he’s representing her gratis. He recites the identical forewarning, “I’m invested in your future,” furthering my defeated feeling that OUAT cares very little about my sensitivities toward cheesiness. Also in the business of clearing Mary’s good name (although for the first time in forever people start referring to her as Ms. Blanchard, why?) is David, who visits Dr.Hopper the town shrink hoping he can extract the memories he’s lost during his blackouts. Under hypnosis, he upholds the motif of channeling the FTL and believes that his memory of insisting Snow not kill the Queen is actually him imploring Mary not to kill Kathryn. WHOOPSIE!

Prince Charming also confronts Rumpelstiltskin (after Red creates a kickass diversion from the pursuing royal guards when her inner wolf comes out to play), strong-arming him for a cure to Snow’s personality disorder. When he confirms that true love’s kiss is the only antidote, the prince rushes to find her before her assassination attempt. He doesn’t leave, however, without striking a deal with Rumpy for her whereabouts, giving him his cloak in return. The imp is dubious about the value it possesses, but bear with with me on that. After a first attempt fails because he didn’t remind her of who she used to be, Jiminy Cricket appears fro a pep talk, and upon the second try (if at first you don’t succeed, kids, keep stalking that girl!) he restores Snow’s memory after sacrificing himself by jumping in front of the arrow. His willingness to die before she slips into darkness touches her so deeply, enhancing the magic of that pivotal smooch.

Charming’s immediately captured though, putting a damper on their reunion, but Snow vows that she “will always find [him]!” After genuinely apologizing to her dwarf buddies, they join her in the crusade to rescue her true love and the warm and fuzzy Snow returns! Thankfully, the disappearance of cutthroat Snow did not disappoint me, because both Josh Dallas and Ginnifer Goodwin bring their A-game in establishing chemistry, so you’re as adamant about their love triumphing over evil as they are, and that empathy that is proving essential to the overall investment in the show’s momentum.

The real world plot wraps up just as cathartically, but in the opposite direction of ‘”feel-good.” After heeding August’s advice to seek guidance from The Book, Henry surmises that the Queen’s key will open any lock. So he smuggles away his “mom’s” keys (resourceful little bugger, ain’t he?) and coerces Emma into testing it out. When the key opens the apartment door, Emma’s intuition of a set-up is reaffirmed. She ensures Emma that despite the DNA test confirming that it was Kathryn’s heart, that she will do whatever it takes to free her, proving her gall by striking up an alliance with Mr. Gold. Mary’s tempted by circumstance though when she finds the cell key beneath her bed (planted by Regina no doubt). And after David visits and admits to his increasing suspicion, due of his mixed-up memories, (a biting critique against the validity of hypnosis, huh?) she breaks down, banishing her true love. He resolve weakened, she uses the key to break out, obviously complicating any effort of Emma’s or Mr. Gold’s to absolve her.

The bigger payoff, for me, came before that final frame that reveals Mary’s empty cell. In the FTL, we see Rumpy drop Snow’s hair and a thread from Charming’s cloak into a flask. The result is some sort of illuminated bond, which signifies that his purpose of collecting random personal items was indeed malicious. He now has successfully bottled love, elevating him to an omnipotence that would seem impenetrable. What this means in the larger context is unclear, but I like the prospects if he now has a leg up on the insufferable Evil Queen.

This development, among many others, affirmed my faith that we may be moving toward less isolated “fairy tale of the week” departures and have arrived at the sturdier backbone of the series. Not all of OUAT’s ventures into folklore have been pointless, but meandering has become tedious considering how many episodes in we are. Although the hand-holding insulted my intelligence, I’m thankful there is a trajectory that I can grab onto and follow. A drama centered around fairy tales with no stakes is too self-indulgent to enjoy; and with newfound purpose, I’m more likely to tolerate such heavily lathered-on “significance. Though I wish the writers would stop being so keen to point it out. To be clear, my issue isn’t with the idea of the borders of Storybrooke and FTL becoming indistinct, but when its added only to stroke the ego of the brain trust and to be “clever for clever’s sake,” I can’t get behind that. But the risk-taking drove character action, so with cautious optimism I’ll encourage the less dawdling, more uninhibited get-it-done approach.

For unveiling the series’ dark side, while evolving the premise and capitalizing on the crucial draw of the show—the connection between Emma, Mary and David becoming a family unit again, and unifying to take down Regina—this week’s episode earned my respect, despite testing my patience with cliched repetition. B, for more badass mofo Snow!

Snow White (Ginnifer Goodwin) and Red Riding Hood (Meghan Ory) hunt down the BIg Bad Wolf.

Can a 44-minute drama be salvaged by a final 15-ish minutes of badassery when the first 30-ish of shlock made me want to be anywhere else but in front of my television?

I was preparing my most epic of rants near the halfway mark. I was ready to bash the show’s inability to brand itself: who are you OUAT? Are you the cornball cheesefest parade of Disney characters masquerading as a mystery drama? Or are you the genre-bending brain child of LOST creators that uses parallel worlds and fairy tales to challenge our conceptions of good and evil and “happily ever after?”

But then my mind was blown a bit, and I jumped off the pulpit. OUAT isn’t ambitious, no matter how much I want it to be. There will still be overarching themes, subtext, and symbolism; but this should not be mistaken for an attempt to televise high-end children’s literature. The success of this show hinges on how fun and inventive the fairy tale allusions are, week-to-week. Let’s face it, not much headway has been made in “Operation Cobra” a.k.a Tell Storybrooke residents they used to be fairy tale characters. To be frank, most of the real world happenings that have earned their keep had to do with relationships and next to nothing with mythology. The last time I can recall a significant development in understanding the connection between FTL (Fairy Tale Land) and present day Storybrooke was Regina’s collection o’ hearts that she stows underground.

Therefore, with so much “riding” on the subversion of  familiar legends, Red needed to blow the house down (see what I did there?). At first I was underwhelmed and even perturbed. She whined about Granny’s overprotectiveness—she hatched down all the doors and sat by the fire with a freaking crossbow—because she was separated from the handsome meathead, Peter. Granny justifies her tyranny claiming she had a run-in with The Wolf as a child. It slaughtered all the men in her clan and left her scarred, emotionally and physically (bite marks on her arm).

When Red finds Snow White in her chicken coop, her reclusive lifestyle is shaken up. When Snow hears that the wolf’s terrorism is keeping her from true love, Snow’s romantic tendencies arise and she’s adamant that Red must overcome. With puppy love blinding her, Red decides they’ll scour the woods for the wolf during the day, since he’ll probably be taking his savage beast nap. As Red follows the tracks (by scent, the first clue) their fear heightens as they discover the remnants of a massacre, several blooded bodies strewn over a white snow blanket. Part of my annoyance was how they hyped up this wolf so damn much. They kept panning back and forth to both their awestricken faces, and saying things like, “What kind of monster are we dealing with!” and none of the horror felt earned.

The tracks lead them back to the cottage and it becomes clear that Red’s puppy love is actually werewolf love as he was the last person other than them (other big hint I missed) that would have come footprints leading there. Then more over-dramatization: “This is so bad.” “So do something!” “You’re right, I have to.” I mean, come on, that’s just awful, and uninspired, and just a waste of script. Then overwrought dialogue just becomes ridiculous when Red informs Peter of his supposed alter ego and her plan to spend every night with him helping him cope with his ferocious ailment. “All we have to do is tie you up during the wolf’s time. I know where to find rope!” Oh, how resourceful you are Red Riding Hood. It’s a plan that ensures disaster.

Across the dimensional planes, or however they eventually explain it, Emma is conducting her static investigation of Kathryn’s disappearance. After David’s extravagant and public arrest, Emma simply releases him because she’s the human lie detector and she can’t charge him with anything. Red’s Storybrooke self, Ruby, quits her job at Granny’s diner because she totally like, oppressive: giving her more work and junk. Emma takes her under her wing and Mary offers their place while she figures out her future. She tries her hand at policework (despite Henry’s repeated suggestions that she try a messenger job, because he’s the prince of irony and thinks he’s clever, but he’s just a precocious little twerp) and helps Emma track David, who since his release from police custody has been spotted in the woods in a catatonic state or “dreamwalk” state by Mary Margaret.

When Ruby happens upon David he’s passed out. They jolt him awake, and he has no recollection of the past day. Emma gets a hunch that he might have wandered to the toll bridge like he did last time he “dreamwalked.” Aiming to boost Ruby’s self-esteem, she sends her on the erran and what Ruby finds nearly paralyzes her with fear. Remember those tiny treasure chests of hearts I mentioned before? Well, it’s one of those, with Kathryn’s heart inside! Duh duh DUH!

Snow, under the alias of Mary (because OUAT’s goal this week was to make me groan as many times as possible), covers for Red as she tends to Peter the wolf (ugh, seriously). But when Granny pulls back the red hood and doesn’t find Red, she panics. The reason for her captivity wasn’t to keep her from love at all. Are your ready? RED IS THE WOLF! THE RED CAPE WAS MADE BY A WIZARD TO STOP HER TRANSFORMATION! Yeah, they fooled me on that one. I knew it wasn’t Peter, but I suspected Granny since she described with such precision how the wolf decimated her family. Turns out my instinct was right, and Granny passed on the werewolf gene and withheld the secret so she wouldn’t have to shoulder that burden. Crossbow-yielding Granny does subdue her, but not before she’s ripped her boyfriend to shreds with her teeth (a man’s worst nightmare). Obviously, this traumatizes Red, but we leave her in agony and I fully approve of this. As I’ve mentioned, I LOVE when FTL goes dark. I’m the eternal optimist and it would be awesome if the show ended up going the route of championing the real world, where fairy tales are possible without the aid of sorcery and just the magic of love. Yeah, it’s shameful how sappy I am.

Turns out the awesome 180s don’t end in FTL. Emma reveals that the box was marked up with not David, but Mary  Margaret’s fingerprints! I’m not at all convinced that my sweetheart Ginnifer Goodwin is capable of murder, and we already know those boxes belong to Regina. I’ll admit I’m digging the ruthlessness the Evil Queen has displayed with this act, as opposed to her usual nails-on-a-blackboard fits of wrath. There isn’t as much suspense here as they’d like to think, all we need to know is how she planted the prints and what motivation she has to frame Mary Margaret for this crime.

Ruby ends her rebellious phase and returns to Granny, resolved to never encounter a human heart buried in the ground ever again. Nothing like gore to make you run back to Grandma. She evens cleans up her appearance ditching her booty shorts, belly-baring tops and red streaks in her hair for flannel, jeans and a more professionally styled hairdo. Granny takes her back, admitting she only wanted to assign her more duties so she could prepare her to take over the diner when she’s gone. I have to at least commend the writers for one of their more subtle, less wink-wink, parallels. Ruby, like Red, discovers a side of her she didn’t know she had, but chooses to suppress her sleuthing skills in exchange for a humble existence with those she loves. Granted Red’s dark side is more tragic, but I believe extrapolating and exaggerating the woes of their real-world counterparts should be the objective of the fairybacks, therefore I condone its usage this week.

It’s hard to ignore the utter irrelevance and lack of bite (I’m so darn pun-ny!) of the majority of this episode though. A twist done right, can be masterful, but I had no desire to invest in where Red’s story was going until her genetic monstrosity was uncovered. Perhaps if her adoration for Peter felt less fleeting, or if her defiance of Granny were less juvenile and rooted in a purer ambition I might have cared, but when you’re focusing on a fringe character whom you’re hardly invested in, motivation becomes key. And it was clear to me they glossed over it and were banking on their audience sticking around, feeling their viewership would be vindicated in the final revelations. Though they certainly altered my perception of the episode, my memory of time wasted was not erased. My main issue was illustrated perfectly in one particular scene, where Henry explains to Emma that Ruby has a lot to offer because she’s goddamn Red Riding Hood (my words). Emma replies, “Yeah, she’s pretty badass.” And by that point, I had not seen that in the slightest. At that point, in both worlds,  she was a timid girl on a defiant kick, with little ambition other than to stick it to Granny and have people affirm that’s special. If I don’t believe that she has any fight in her, why would I take it on good faith that she would prove herself to be vicious?

Much of last night was spent confirming what is needless and infuriating about the Once Upon A Time premise: obvious allusions, character of the week structure, and unfounded causes for alarm in the seemingly low-stakes secluded village of Storybrooke. For a thrilling conclusion with legitimate surprises, and a glimpse of how both worlds can conjure up their own immediacy, I will jack up the grade on an otherwise boring detour from the primary question: when will they find out the truth? Truth is, I guarantee its dragged out past the season finale, but if the fairybacks can offer a more palpable, less tangential interest in their backstories, and they ramp up the tension in the real world it might not matter. But with little to hang on to besides a missing persons investigation, my mind continues to wander. Red’s possession by demon doggy carries a mediocre episode into B- territory.

At the village tavern, Dreamy (Lee Arenberg) is advised by Belle (Emile De Ravin) on the pain inherent in love.

“Once Upon A Time” just might be too damn cheesy for some. Let’s face it, blue and pink fairies floating above the clouds, dropping fairy dust on a giant egg, from which a dwarf is hatched—that’s an acquired taste. That sort of cornball, nonsensical mythology is not necessarily new to “genre” television, but with such a Disney-fied sheen, it might alienate many viewers. But judging by the ratings and the resulting raise in the VFX budget (much more respectable CGI), this concoction seems to be working it’s (brace yourselves) magic.

Tonight’s formula didn’t quite work for me, mostly due to the absurd love story at the center of the episode. The actors were troopers (genre vet Amy Acker as Nova the fairy, and Lee Arenberg as Dreamy/Grumpy) who didn’t mock the material and tried to inject genuine, and not overblown, feeling into a largely forgettable story. It’s upsetting too, because as I’ve begrudgingly foretold, I love me a good true-love-conquers-all tale. But since Snow White met up with the dwarves in “7:15 AM” (one of the best episodes so far by the way) we’ve known that Grumpy was once “blinded by love.” We knew that somehow the relationship would be doomed and his “Dreamy-ness” would be shattered. I’m bumming myself out with how cynical that sounds, but it’s true. I found it hard to root for a relationship that I knew wasn’t exactly “Too Big To Fail.”

Also, to be even more of a killjoy, Dreamy never really loved her. When Nova clumsily spilled her fairy dust on him, she accidentally made him fated to fall for her. Now, we could get into a lengthy discussion of which came first, the dust or the egg (rimshot). Sorry, I had to. But no, seriously, I would gladly hear an argument that maybe the fate of Dreamy and Nova’s love pre-destined her dropping the fairy dust and it randomly falling on his egg, but this felt less Romeo and Juliet (us and our destined love against the world) and more like mythical negligence. And even if you disagree, and feel like nothing can tear at the fabric of this dwarf-fairy union, fine. But in terms of storytelling, this dramatic irony didn’t work for me.

Using Romeo and Juliet again, yes it’s stated blankly in the prologue that they will die, but that’s a play with layers of tragedy to unravel. It doesn’t become less enjoyable once the end is spoiled, it becomes all the more intriguing. There’s the fighting families, there’s the flawed nature of both lovers, and I don’t think Shakespeare makes the argument that these were two people who belonged together. They were two kids who fell head over heels and let their conceptions of love overwhelm them and cloud their reason. Dreamy and Nova can’t be together because…dwarves are culturally denied the right to love? Because Dreamy feels Nova should put her career first? Actually, now that I think of it, that was less of a tragedy and more of a commentary about the shift in our modern conceptions of love, wasn’t it? NAH.

Regardless, the show would be hard pressed to trump their own use of dramatic irony in the instance of Snow White/ Prince Charming. Here the construction is the opposite. There is less of a tragic element because we know they WILL end up together. But where the engagement happens is the multi-episode arc in which they get together against all odds. Since we’re clueless as to how they get together, the writers are free to orchestrate a intricate, obstacle-riddled path to their happily ever after. Where my investment starts is when Snow and Charming start to experience the painful longing, and they question whether the fight is worth it. You want to convince me that true love exists? Integrate it’s spell into parts of our world. Use emotional anguish, use hopelessness, and use that resilience that keeps you from quitting on someone because losing them would kill you, even though you’re already dying, just to see that someone again. Even in the age that equates optimism with weakness, happy endings work. They just need to be earned. And so do the sappy ones, you won’t gain my appreciation just by denying Dreamy his dream.

Dreamy’s Storybrooke doppellanger is Leroy, the town drunk (because in the real world, if you’re a grouch it’s because you drink too damn much). Generally, a grump (surprise, surprise), Leroy is bitten by the love bug. Of course, he can’t have her because she is the real world equivalent of an untouchable fairy—a nun. As Mary Margaret berates, “Could you possibly pick anyone less available?” Not gonna lie, I lolled. Anywho, he’s smitten with her prudish and naive charm and offers to help sell candles to raise money for the nuns’ rent, which slightly sketched me out. He joins Mary Margaret in the effort, but they sell zero candles because they’re social pariahs. It’s all very biblical actually. Afraid to disappoint Astrid (the nun that has seduced him into paying his rent…still sketchy) Leroy lies and says he sold all of them, $5,000 worth. So how will the town drunk and town harlot sell all the candles before it’s too late? Tune in next week…or paragraph. Either way.

Well after searching for the answer at the bottom of a glass, our kooky friend, Leroy decides to take an ax (ah, subtle link between the worlds) to the transformer, putting out all the lights for blocks. So, basically, they threatened them into buying candles. Huh. This show is dark. Astrid is impressed though, but nothing really becomes of it because, well she is a nun. So they live happily, but celibately ever after.

Relegated to not nearly enough screen time is the matter of Kathryn’s disappearance. Emma investigates the scene, and even calls the law school, and determines that she was definitely abducted somehow. When she interrogates David, she feels he is honest when he says that he hasn’t talked to her at all since the accident. But when Regina pulls the phone records, it tells a different story. Emma must then go against her instincts and her allegiances and take David away in her squad car as a suspect. The episode ends on this “cliffhanger,” but it felt extremely anti-climactic. He isn’t being arrested. She has evidence that he might have lied (he could have pocket dialed), but nothing linking him to the crime yet. Why Mary Margaret was looking on as if her world had come crashing down seemed like forcing emotion out of the preliminary stages of this investigation.

In addition, there was a detail that bothered me. I understand that Emma operates alone, in a small town, but when you have a case where a wife goes missing, wouldn’t the side chick be the first one you question? I understand Mary Margaret is her mother-friend, but you have to hold up the integrity of the law. At least go through the formality of asking her questions even if you are going to ignore the answers. Jot some stuff on a notepad, help her come up with an alibi, SOMETHING! When Sidney Glass mentioned this explicitly, I was irate. They just completely dismissed it, like “No, I know her, she’s a good person.” SO?!

Implausibility was a huge issue for me here. I’m willing to suspend disbelief so that I can enjoy an artful mythology or relatable characters, but disregard for logic? I can forgive dwarves hatching out of eggs (which in hindsight was kinda awesome, and a clever way to explain their work-dedicated life without some half-assed slavery allegory). What I can’t forgive is manufactured feeling. Is destroying a transformer supposed to be a romantic gesture? It’s not only illegal, but irresponsible. Candles don’t solve the problems of food going bad in the refrigerator. And what if the hospital was within that radius? I hope he sells some extra candles to pay for the generator! And as I mentioned already, I was impressed with the actors who played Nova and Dreamy-turned-Grumpy, but as written there wasn’t nearly enough payoff for me to get my “Awwwws” from the him brandishing a new ax that dubs him Grumpy. Plus, I saw it coming a mile away once I saw that he was originally dubbed Dreamy in the same manner.

It’s not impossible to make me care about a dwarf and a fairy falling madly in love, but when you explicitly discount their feelings by saying it was conjured by fairy dust, how am I supposed to feel the magic? For falling short of the expectations they had raised in recent weeks, of delicately rendered love stories and dynamic flashbacks with sophisticated spins on the childhood standards, I must regretfully whistle as I work to forgive the dull stone they mined this week. But knowing what Kitsis/Horowitz are capable of, and looking ahead at a sexy, Red Riding Hood fairyback next week, I’m sure the gleam will be restored. Until then, C+

Emma (Jennifer Morrison) hesitates, but eventually hops on the stranger's (Elon Bailey) bike as Granny watches.

Despite shifting social opinions on love, commitment, monogamy and sexual liberation, one commandment has stood the test of time and atheism: thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.

In recent weeks, I’ve expressed my allegiance to the Mary Margaret/David pairing. Shall we call them Mavid? Yes, let’s. Well, Mavid has honed in on the thread of my fabric that is a hopeless romantic and they’ve yanked at it with all their might. However, the consequences of their love have a mighty wide ripple effect in both Storybrooke and in Fairy Tale Land (FTL) as Snow White and Charming.

In Storybrooke, their romance gets the stigmatized label of an affair. David is married to Kathryn, whom he doesn’t love, but more importantly he doesn’t care for enough to tell her that. This is where my ties to Mavid become tenuous. Forbidden love carries with it an air of thrill and the danger can really ramp up the sexual tension, but it loses its luster when eventually the unsuspecting “others” find out, and that infatuation is quickly converted into a burdensome shame. Having been wrapped up in a doomed relationship myself, I felt for Mary Margaret. It’s tough to let go when you feel like loosening your grip on someone means losing hold of who you are. But in her case, she’s not just lying to herself she’s lying to his wife. You’re aiding and abetting a broken promise. This dishonesty seems totally contradictory to the kind-hearted, thoughtful Mary we have come to know over thirteen episodes, but it could all be forgiven if when the heat of the moment reaches its boiling point, Mary can make the right decision instead of the easy one.

Tonight’s episode was about this self-destructive inner turmoil we call love, and the havoc it wreaks upon the emotions of every one involved. FTL serves not as the painfully obvious parallel this week, but as an alternative (and we aren’t browbeaten about ‘the point’ through ‘wink wink’ dialogue). What if both Kathryn and David decided to stop dancing around each others’ feelings, and followed their hearts? Often times, I have said FTL appears to be grimmer than reality, and redemption is sought in Storybrooke, but tonight the karmic tale plays out in small town Maine, while more typically, beasts are conquered in the alternate universe.

Kathryn drops a bit of a bomb on David when she reveals that she had applied to law school while he was still taking his really long nap. That’s what a coma is, right? She has received her acceptance letter and was accepted to an unnamed school in Boston. Well which is it? New England Law? Harvard? I’m way too close to the situation being a resident, I apologize. His reaction is dismay since this means no more sneaking around with cutie-patootie. When he goes to “clear his head” with Mary, I’m vindicated when my girl tells him to face facts. She insists he tell Kathryn the truth or he has made his choice, there is no “them” anymore.

David’s alter ego James (awful alternative to Charming) is running from marriage too. As explained in “7:15 A.M,”  he and King Midas’ daughter Abigail (Kathryn’s FTL identity) are betrothed per an agreement to unify the two kingdoms. Charming says screw political alliances and holds steadfast to his principle that he can’t marry someone he doesn’t love. Abigail’s henchmen intercept him and they bury the hatchet. See, in this universe Kathryn’s alter ego has a true love as well that isn’t him: a fellow named Frederick, who was paralyzed in gold after throwing himself on the cursed Midas when their caravan was ambushed. It discomforted me at first, the implication being made through the juxtaposition of stories that David and Kathryn’s marriage was always loveless, but Kathryn admits as much to Regina later. It troubled me still, because I found this to be inconsistent. When we first met David, fresh after his super long nap time, his personality was split. Half of him still loved Kathryn and the other was engrossed with Mary Margaret. At the time I assumed it was an internal conflict between his present self and the memories of his FTL past, but now the whole idea that he ever truly loved Kathryn pre-coma has been abandoned. Kathryn disavows that idea when she says, “He never looked at me like he looks at her.” I’m not sure which I would prefer, but I wish OUAT had simply stuck with one so that I didn’t end my sense of loyalty wasn’t so scatterbrained.

When David confronts Kathryn he acts much less honorably than his royal self. In a doubly deceptive ploy, he tells Kathryn that he can’t go to Boston because he can’t make a connection with her (stinky load of horses**t, huh?). Not only does he neglect to mention he loves someone else, but he promised Mary Margaret he’d tell the truth. What a scumbag. I loved it. I’m all for making these fairy tale conceits of good and evil less stark by employing duplicitous characters. As much as the romance between Mary and David sent my heart aflutter, it was the most I’d ever enjoyed David oddly, when I stopped liking him. Not only does he incite a rage within Kathryn when she finds out from Regina instead, but he brings shame upon the woman he professes to love. His wife not only slaps her in front of her students, but the reverberations of it spreads hateful murmurs all over town and TRAMP is tagged on her station wagon. The humiliation gives rise to courage, and Mary Margaret asserts that the relationship has become too destructive, a refreshing concept considering how in FTL men and women risk their lives for an elevated ideal of true love. Even if the relationship is predestined, this wrench in the plan felt like the most convincing way to veer off course (foreshadowing, lol).

A legend of the mystical properties of water elicits the more direct collision of worlds this week. A magical lake called Something-Lame with the power to bring back something you’ve lost serves as the answer to reviving Princess Abigail’s true love, Frederick. The guardian of the lake is predictably a siren, the obvious metaphor for temptation. The seductress takes the form of Snow White, and at first he is entrapped by her kiss. But when she says she loves him he senses the inauthenticity and wriggles away from her seaweed grasp and stabs her. Abigail then pours the lake water over statue Frederick and he’s restored to lively Frederick again. I could care less about Freddy though. He served as an adequate motivation/plot device for Charming to confront his hopelessness towards reuniting with Snow, but he came off as kind of a wuss, despite slaying the beast. He entered into a knowingly risky situation figuring that he had nothing else to live for, so he would fight for someone else’s true love since he can’t secure his own? Kind of a suicidal mess, no? Ultimately, he realized that true love is not something you give up on, but initially his misplaced sense of sacrifice came off as less than valiantly. Otherwise, the fairyback felt inconsequential, taking us back to where we left off with “7:15 A.M,” extending the scene only slightly to show him and Red Riding Hood galloping away from his “father’s” hot, arrow-firing pursuit. It actually confused me about the timeline of these fairybacks and made me wonder how long Snow has been with the dwarves to this point.

The water-induced recovery in Storybrooke was that of The Book. Yes, Henry’s book that contains all the tales of its inhabitants’ former lives. We as an audience are privy to the truth, which is that Mysterious Biker/Writer Dude, who finally gives up his name (August W. Booth, ew), had it at the end of “Fruit of the Poisonous Tree.” It was unclear, to me anyway, whether he was simply repairing the book or if he added new pages, but nonetheless he strategically places the book in a gutter underneath Emma’s car after making her drink some well water that, according to legend, comes from a magical lake. Does this mean that FTL lies underneath the town as was alluded to in “That Still Small Voice? (the 5th episode way back in November)” The writers sure seem to be suggesting it. I also thought when August started with his didactic monologue about ancient cultures worshipping water it was terribly misplaced, but Kitsis/Horowitz were part of many such preachings on “LOST” so that type of speech was bound to seep in at some time. But where “LOST” was tonally very spiritual, “Once Upon A Time” should stick to its lighter, mythic tone.

Kathryn’s mature realization that she never loved David as deeply as Mary Margaret, and only pretended to, set in motion some shady events. First, Regina steals a letter Kathryn left for David giving her blessing of Mavid (think it will catch on? I’s okay I know it’s lame) and subsequently burns it. Then, when Kathryn leaves town to study law in Boston and find her real true love, her car is found by a passerby swerved into the woods, but with no body inside! The cut to Regina’s sinister stare implies she had something to do with it, but how? Too much slight of hand is taking place in those last moments for me to enjoy the ride (pun intended). The strings are visible and the manipulation, like the show itself in its lower points, is far from subtle. For me, the sweet and somber note of Emma lying beside Mary Margaret in bed as Mary cries over her rough decision to end it with David, was the preferable ending. Not only do I buy into the acting styles of Morrison and Goodwin more than Lana Parilla as Regina/Evil Queen, but their struggles gel more with the core of the episode’s thematic ambition. Ending on Regina’s Machiavellian mischief was just a calculated network cliffhanger, and I should have expected that by now.

As I’ve admitted ad nauseum, I’m a sucker for a good ole fashioned faith-in-true-love hour, so this episode reeled me in easily, but by messing with the formula gave me reason to stick around. The VFX were FAR better than in episodes past; between the siren sequence and the horseback chases I was moderately impressed. All the same, this fairyback didn’t captivate me like those with Rumpelstiltskin ruining people’s lives have (I’m a bitter, bitter man) and the butchering of the mood at the end soured me from being more forgiving. For further developing already likable characters into flawed and relatable characters, and providing a noteworthy tale of tough choices—when is love worth the fight and when is it just killing you—I can’t ignore the progress my relationship with this series is making. I won’t pretend it was the real thing, so a not-quite-true love deserves a B.

Rumpelstiltskin (Robert Carlyle) whisks his new housekeeper Belle (Emile de Ravin) away from her father.

My viewing experience of “Once Upon A Time” is tainted, by expectation. I want it to be LOST. It’s creators want it to be LOST, and it never will be.

Last week I gladly declared that OUAT had found its identity and had squandered many of its pretensions and simply tried to be a damn good time. But this week, Kitsis/Horowitz seemed like a needy child tugging at its mother’s pant leg. I thought they were beyond seeking approval. All the Easter eggs and insider jokes like the Apollo Bars and the McCutcheon whiskey were just tributes to the landmark series they took part in. However with Emile de Ravin’s appearance as Belle (yes, of Beauty and the Beast fame) I wonder if Eddy Kitsis and Adam Horowitz, harbor a repressed need to catch lightning in a bottle again.

Surely, De Ravin’s guest appearance is simply an isolated homage, and lofty aspirations haven’t bogged down this creative team. Except, LOST is not the only acclaimed drama to catch OUAT’s wandering eye. They’ve snatched talent like Jennifer Morrison from “House,” Giancarlo Esposito from “Breaking Bad,” and tonight they made a “Game of Thrones” pun by naming a flower shop, “Game of Thorns.” I can’t decide whether it is endearing or desperate.

Much like some classic LOST episodes, tonight’s OUAT was a reveal episode. There was still a fairyback, one brought to life thanks to all those Disney rights! Ah, ABC, you treat them well. And there was “progress” in Storybrooke. But the real meat of the plot came during a two minute interaction between Mr. Gold and Regina where it was finally acknowledged that they both know of their former lives and evil power struggle. She goes all Destiny’s Child, “Say your name!” And he admits to awareness of “other worlds.” This wasn’t presented as a huge deal, it wasn’t even the final reveal of the episode, but it is a revelation with implications for the series at large. It is out in the open now, and if he knows the questions become, will he be a roadblock for Emma and Henry’s plans to enlighten the townsfolk (for my Losties, “Desmond-style”) or could he prove a formidable ally?

I was predisposed to be enthralled with tonight’s fairyback. Beauty and the Beast is almost certainly in my top three Disney flicks of all time (excluding Pixar) and Claire was one of my many beloved Oceanic 815ers so Emile de Ravin had me hooked with little effort. We’re introduced to the heroine as she stews by her father’s side, worried their village will be sacked as the Ogre Wars rage on (Am I the only one who would be fascinated by a detailed history of the events leading up to these wars?). I was mildly disappointed her dad was a rich, lordly fellow instead of an eccentric inventor. Anyway, Rumpelstiltskin appears as the solution to their suffering, promising to save their town in exchange for Belle’s services as his permanent housekeeper. Her betrothed, Gaston, insists she stay, but Belle is intent on breaking away from the social constraints of womanhood, seizing the opportunity to be heroic. She elects to go with Rumpy, much to his delight.

In the real world, there was much less interesting fare. Mr. Gold is robbed by a florist, Mr. French, after Gold nabs his van as collateral. Gold seems awfully upset over one particular item that Sheriff Swan hadn’t yet recovered and threatens that if she doesn’t detain Mr. French, he will get to him first. When he does, he beats the florist with his cane for information on the whereabouts of this item. He starts screaming about “her” and how it’s his fault that, “she is gone.” When he refuses to divulge the entire truth to Emma, he is cuffed.

In a Storybrooke subplot, Ashley returns. Who? Oh, that pregnant girl who is Cinderella in Fairy Tale Land (FTL). She’s overtired from taking care of the baby because her baby daddy Shawn is always at work being the breadwinner. Ruby (FTL identity: Red Riding Hood) suggest that she and Mary Margaret join her for a ladies night on the town. Both agree, especially Mary Margaret who’s once again unsatisfied by only being a part-time lover to David, who is still carrying on with his wife, Kathryn. I normally care about those two lovebirds, but the developments felt so wedged in, that I became detached. Next week their affair will come to a head when Kathryn finds out.

At Rumpy’s castle, Belles settles in after feeling initially weary about handing over her life to a “monster.” But as the “tale as old as time” foretold, Rumpy begins to treat her nicely, even pardoning her when she chips a cup. This is of course an allusion to “Chip” from Disney’s incarnation of the tale. You might say this reference made me groan, but I shall not complain as I promised last week. Rumpy begins to fall for her first, turning Gaston into a rose for his sweetheart when he comes to her rescue. Then, Belle’s opinion of her master (kinky) shifts when she falls from a ladder into his arms (the editing and VFX in this scene are ATROCIOUS). She begins to probe him for information about his past, when he was a man. She yearns to know the man she will serve forever better. In a move to test her affection for him, Rumpy asks Belle to go into town for more straw. If she comes back, he will tell her the story of the son he lost. He expressed that he expects her to never come back.

On her journey she runs into the Evil Queen. EQ informs her that her master’s curse will be broken, and his humanity restored if he receives true love’s kiss. Knowing that his beastly features and evil within can be eroded she returns to him. But when she shares true love’s kiss with Rumpy, he resists the change. He suspects her to be an agent of the EQ, trying to remove his powers, to weaken him. For her treason, Belle is thrown in the dungeon. After a tantrum in which the only glassware spared is the chipped cup, he releases her, never wanting to see her again. She calls him a coward as his son had when he killed to protect him, a genuine callback and reference that felt the most organic and essential of any they’ve attempted.

Shakeups in Storybrooke abound when Ashley accepts Shawn’s marriage proposal and Mary Margaret bumps into David. He hands her a V-day card, but accidentally hands her one addressed to Kathryn. This tips the scales for MM and she observes that they will find a way to be together, but this isn’t it. Back at SBPD, Regina bribes Emma with a half hour visit with Henry (this wouldn’t strike her as odd…awful sheriff….and where’s mystery writer/biker dude?) in order to converse with Mr. Gold. She confesses to encouraging Mr. French to rob him, asking that he bring her back…his chipped cup. She held this as leverage so that Gold would speak his FTL name. It’s a fun scene that recalls the legend that surrounds his name. As I mentioned before, this revelation that they both know could add a layer of mixed allegiances or simply heighten the risks involved in Emma and Henry’s pursuit of the truth.

While Rumpy slumps at his spindle over his reluctance to allow love in his heart, for fear of rejection, EQ visits hoping they can strike another deal. When he is not in the mood he accuses her outright of ruining their relationship. She cryptically answers that she had nothing to do with “that tragedy.” Puzzled, Rumps asks of what she speaks. EQ shares that upon returning home, her father had shunned her. He learned of her love for “The Beast” and has banished to a tower where clerics will cleanse her soul. Distraught, she threw herself out of the tower, falling to her death. This explains the sentimental value surrounding the cup in the real world, it’s all he had left of her. Or so he thinks. The very last scene of the episode shows Regina entering a secret wing of the hospital where “Belle” is locked up. What repercussions could this have for their eternal power struggle? I’m unsure, but again it opens up the dimensions for the real world adding a darker tinge to the episodes to follow. Gold, like EQ may not want to go back to FTL, but they want to vanquish each other. The more moral ambiguity that can be infused in these classics, the better. And with the sporadic investment in real world proceedings before this, another reason to care wouldn’t hurt.

Nearly all the real world happenings felt inconsequential. This irrelevant quality took a sharp 180 toward the end, but I can’t discount my utter boredom beforehand. Ashley had been gone for so long, her engagement felt like a formality. And when I start feeling blase about any plot point that involves Mary Margaret you know it hasn’t been well rendered. Despite these clear narrative shortcomings, it was pleasant to step into the world of “Beauty and the Beast” again, and it’s always a pleasure to watch Emile de Ravin smile sheepishly at me (ok, in my general direction). For it’s sheer entertainment value, and for effectively (and finally) incorporating the gritty, tragic elements of the FTL futility into the thrust of the Storybrooke setting, OUAT regresses but swings its pendulum in a positive direction with a B-.

King Leopold (Richard Schiff of "The West Wing") dotes on his daughter, Snow (Ginnifer Goodwin).

Is there anything freer than knowing exactly who you are? You have nothing to prove, because your expectations are much more reasonable and whenever you create, or work, or do what it is you do, you do it with a exactness that no one else could ever conceive of.

Well, “OUAT,” I believe, has found that sweet spot. They have embraced an identity, and it falls short of many great shows on television. I can provide you with 10 better written shows, and I can find you ten shows that I certainly look up to more for their innovation and artistry. Edward Kitsis and Adam Horowitz worked on one of those before, “LOST.” If you have read my reviews you know how much I adored, and still carry great affection for, that show. Despite it being the one show my dad and I will never watch together, and while my opinions contrasts with those who loathed the final five minutes of the series finale so severely that it ruined the entire journey before it, it is undoubtedly, one for the history books. OUAT, will never be LOST. OUAT wishes they had the privilege of “LOST’s” club of flaws. However, OUAT has a lightness to it now, as if they have dropped the burden of expectations and have decided to care less about being great, and want to a force of its own will. “Once Upon A Time” will make me groan weekly with its insisting witticisms connecting their dual realms, but beyond today I will note them no longer (but seriously, referring to a plan to expose Regina as reaching for the fruit of the poisonous tree, COME ON!) because it’s charming just how little they wish to please me. And now that they have stopped catering to some false sense of importance, it has become more enjoyable, more effortlessly engaging, and more goddamed fun.

Although tonight, my patience was tried within mere minutes of the still lame title sequence (this isn’t a haunted house show, let’s be real). Lana Parilla is a clearly attractive woman in her own right, and I’m sure come Emmy season I will be scraping my jaw off the floor after she has walked onto the red carpet, but any chemistry we had has been killed by her shrewish attitude on the show. I’m sure that is how she has been directed to be, but why couldn’t she be more seductive. Isn’t the purest evil the kind that sneaks up behind you because you trusted it would never harm you? Well, it seems the show may be in the business of granting wishes. I say this not just because “The Genie” from Aladdin lore is the subject of tonight’s fairyback, but because in said fairyback, the Queen effectively seduced me.

But not before she made my balls shrink up inside me with condescensions like, “He’ll have a cracked cranium if you aren’t careful,” or “It’s time to be responsible Ms. Swan.” These gems and more are a part of a barrage of berating remarks by Regina, aimed at Emma, after she finds her and Henry playing at a now dilapidated playground (Henry’s castle) after the storm hit it. Emma, initially, is willing to let her usual overreaching roll off. Then she hits up Granny’s. Here we find Gus (damn, still not Breaking Bad, huh), I mean Sidney Glass, editor of the Storybrooke Mirror throwing back whiskeys for breakfast. Turns out he has a grudge with Regina too. After he was humiliated at the sheriff elections he decided to expose her for the corrupt mayor she is, to no avail. She found him out and fired him. Now, Sidney’s looking to partner up with Emma to take her down through some good old dirt-digging. Emma declines, claiming she wants to take her down without getting her hands dirty, but when she sees Henry’s playground is demolished and his book (THE BOOK) missing from its hiding place, she decides all bets are off.

As mentioned, we meet Genie this week who is Sidney’s alter ego (played by the supremely talented Giancarlo Esposito, who found his career-defining role as Gus in AMC’s “Breaking Bad”). As we know from prior installments (so don’t be shocked) Sidney is the magic mirror to Regina’s Evil Queen. This sets up easily the show’s most effective twist on conventional fairy tales, The Genie becomes the mirror. And despite this nugget not being concealed, I was still enthralled by the how of it all. The genie is summoned from the lamp and appears before King Leopold, father of Snow White. Esposito’s take on Genie is refreshing, he too wishes to be broken from the shackles of his gig, but this Genie isn’t masking his longing with cheer and improvisational humor. This guy is unenthused and apathetic. He recites his spiel about his magic’s limitations sans gusto. Being a kind royal, who wants for nothing (though it’s much easier to be humble when you’re royalty though) Leopold wishes for Genie’s freedom, a gesture that delights our not-so-blue friend. With his second wish he grants that his third wish be given to the Genie to use. Genie is again grateful, but asserts he will never use it. He’s granted 1001 wishes, and all of them have had grave consequences. Without much purpose to pair with his newfound liberty, Leopold offers to make him a member of his court where he’s certain he’ll find the one wish Genie cannot grant for himself, true love.

Making a brief appearance in the real world is Mary Margaret who meets up with David for a surprise picnic at the place where they first met, the ever-romantic toll bridge. Mary Margaret, amidst a flurry of kisses, wonders if they should face the reality that he is married, but David just wants to love her guilt-free so they push worry off to tomorrow. Mary Margaret also delivers possibly the funniest line of the night, when she see Sidney and Emma sifting through public records to discover any seeds of wrongdoing: “Yeah, maybe you’re doing something wrong, but if it’s right and it’s meant to be, does that make you a bad person?” Ha! Oh, Mary Margaret, even when you’re a mistress tortured by guilt and shame, you’re cute as a button. Meanwhile, Sidney seems convinced that this $50,000 of unappropriated funds will be the Mayor’s undoing, the “crack in the mirror” (ughhhhh…but I’m letting go…). When Emma questions why Sidney ever got in her pocket in the first place he more organically alludes to the parallel story, “I used to think she was a different person.”

Here we start to feel for Evil Queen (EQ). At some festivity, we see the King waxing philosophic about his daughter’s unmatched beauty, but then he strikes at EQ’s self-esteem saying Snow is a constant reminder of his “fairest of them all” first wife, and her mother. EQ has no place in his court, or in his heart. She is trapped in an essentially loveless marriage, or at least one where she will always play second fiddle. Genie runs after her into her courtyard where the soon-to-be poisonous apple tree grows. He lifts her spirits by gifting her a mirror, so that she may see what he sees, the true “fairest of them all.”

In Storybrooke, Emma confronts Regina directly about the missing funds. Regina is quick with an alibi, saying the record of the transaction was burned in the fire that got her elected. While leaning against her desk, Emma plants a bug so she can intercept some clue of where she allocated the money. When she overhears a phone call about a roadside meeting, she and Sidney spring into action. While heading to the location, the brakes fail on Emma’s car and Sidney immediately notices they were tampered with and that Regina must have discovered the bug. Coincidentally, Mr. Gold is out by the roadside. He informs them that the mayor met with him to buy his land. He also warns about emotional entanglements, and how they can distort the truth and people will get hurt. Unconvinced, Emma heads for Regina’s office and breaks in. She gathers any files related to the land grab off her computer, but not before running into Regina herself. Emma, quick-witted, conjures up a tale about a teenage prank that Sidney had witnessed. Across town, we also get a short glimpse of Mysterious Writer/ Biker Dude who bumps into Henry who is trying to record the details of THE BOOK, in case it isn’t found. When “Oh Precocious One” grills the man with the box about why he is here, he mocks the child, “Stuff.”

The Evil Queen’s father makes a surprise visit, dropping in on Genie when he expected a rendezvous with the Queen. The King has pilfered his wife’s diary and has knowledge about a man who has stolen her heart. He recognizes that he can never love EQ like she deserves, but he’s still aghast at her betrayal. He charges Genie, whom he trusts, to sniff out this mystery man. In response, EQ’s father has come to deliver his daughter a package, a way out of this prison of a life, an escape from her own form of servitude. When she opens the box we find two Agrabah vipers. For those with a working knowledge of Disney, Agrabah is the homeland of the Genie. EQ’s plan is to kill herself with one venomous bite, but Genie stops her. Clearly enamored with her, he offers to kill the king himself by setting the vipers loose on him. In this scene in particular we see another side of Regina/EQ, one who is stricken with sadness, but oozes sensuality as she brushes against Genie’s cheek and embraces him for his selflessness: a deep contrast to the shrill, unabashedly evil Regina that has inhabited every other episode. The added dimension is well executed and goes a long way to establishing a character we can invest in instead of just emphatically opposing.

Then the entanglements Mr. Gold forewarned of begin to unravel. At a city council meeting, Emma and Syndey speak up, exposing Regina’s plans to build a second home in the woods with taxpayer money. Unphased, Regina retorts she is indeed building a house. A PLAYHOUSE. OH SNAP! She circumvented the city governance so she could get the project underway quicker, so that the town’s children would have a safe place to play. Disgraced and defeated, Emma loses not just her plot for revenge, but Henry as well. Regina blackmails Emma with evidence that she did truly break-in to her office and bans her from seeing Henry for an undetermined period of time. The one ray of hope she clings to is that Sidney is her ally now, and no longer Regina’s spy. Earlier, he had pulled out a shoebox of photos he had taken of Emma while under Regina’s employ, tracking Emma’s every move so she could prevent her from getting close to Henry.

With a powerful ally, Emma has the strength she needs to stand up to Regina when the time is right. Except, the last scene of the episode suggest differently. Sidney is seated before a mirror in Regina’s office and he reports that “she bought it,” he has earned Emma’s trust and holds a tape recordings of all their meetings. Regina is as unstoppable as ever, now she can track the sheriff’s every move and will always be one step ahead. What seemed like a foregone conclusion, Emma’s penetration of Regina’s facade, now seems improbable. With a well-established network of watchful eyes, Regina seems to have an unrelinquishing grasp on her power, and Emma. Although, mysterious writer/biker dude may be the thorn in her side. We get a quick glimpse of the all-important box, the one that last week held a typewriter. Now it holds… THE BOOK! WHAAAAATTTTT? Stay tuned, as they say.

The twist with the most payoff though, was in the fairyback. Genie sicks the vipers on his dear friend and they both dig their fangs into his neck causing an almost instant death. In his last moments though, Genie expresses his regret. He acknowledges that he’s forever indebted for the freedom the king granted him, but that he had to do the same for his queen, and break her chains as well. And as the king’s life is sucked out, he reminds Genie of another way he could have freed her. His last wish from the map. Damn. Either Genie was too gosh darn stubborn or too caught up to use it, but that would have been a more civil route to go. When he rushes to his love’s side to tell her the good news, she appears in more despair than before. The guards know the vipers are of Genie’s homeland, and that he will be executed. She offers him safe passage, but Genie is connecting the dots. Of all the snakes she could have picked, she picked those from Agrabah. She set him up. She never loved him at all, and used him to kill the king. EQ acknowledges this, and erases any possibility he could ever be in her life. But Genie has his one last trick up his lamp. He uses his last wish to grant that he will be by her side always, and that every day he will look upon her. And the magic of FTL does grant him this. He is to be stuck inside her mirror for the rest of his life. The show has introduced a litany of grim ways that magic has haunted these characters that have relied on it for solutions to their ills, but never has it been more tragic than when this man, recently freed, is once again enslaved. But this time, it was of his own will. He could not live without her, now he certainly cannot.

“7:15 A.M” delivered for me last week, but with this episode coming in consecutive weeks, I’m sure that it was no fluke. Appealing to pathos once again, the show struck a chord by sticking with the cliched but proven conceit that love can be the grandest magic in the world, but it can also inflict the greatest of pains. The fate of unrequited love has never been pretty, and I’m glad OUAT was bold enough to confront it. For the second week in a row I have reason to celebrate the achievements of a series that has labored through much of its first few months for my approval, and frankly the approval of many critics. But I’m confident that this week many others will be singing it’s praises. Surely, Regina cannot become a totally different character and will continue to thwart any of my attempts to like her or root for her success, but I can’t imagine this show is striving for that sort of moral ambiguity. At any rate, for this week I was again delighted to delve into both worlds (more so with the FTL because of the world-building and tragedy), and I’m excited for where the series can go from here in defying expectation now that they are ironically freed from its constraints. For allowing the captivating Giancarlo Esposito the space to play, for expanding our conception of the Queen’s capabilities, and for feeling like the gust of fresh air the show set out to be at its inception, OUAT repeats its success with a second straight triumph over my preconceived notions. I mean, the dialogue is still wooden; and much of my interest in the real world activity is riding on potential plot threads, my parallel investment in the FTL, and my admiration for a few performances. No buts about it though, the “fruits” of their labor have earned them a B+.

Snow White (Ginnifer Goodwin) looking so darling it hurts, as a dove delivers her a message from her true love.

Readers, as I have mentioned in previous posts, I feel like we have a good thing going. I can share with you all the kinds of things one doesn’t divulge at dinner parties. I can open up to you with no fear of reprisal. Therefore, it is without hesitation that I confess to you…I’m a sucker for love stories. Yes, it’s true. I come off like a cynic, someone without a soft spot, someone who shuns things like cuddling and soul mates (because only those who believe in fate find pleasure in holding loved ones in their arms…icky). When you break down my grisly exterior, however, you will find a man who always cries at the end of The Notebook. A man who just last night screamed at his television while watching “Lost in Translation,” “What did Bill Murray whisper to Scarlett Johansson goddamit!” I am also the type of man who would dig tonight’s episode. One filled with the pain of unrequited affections, as well as the kind of forbidden romance you only find in fairy—son of a gun.

Needless to say, if they were looking for some good pub they came to the right…well, let’s pretend I have clout…critic. I was additionally surprised I enjoyed this episode so much because after last week’s turd in a punchbowl I was dreading this week. Perhaps if I watched previews I would have known we’d return to the only thing I’m invested in, Mary & David/Snow & Charming. Exacerbating my bias was the fact that Championship Sunday was as thrilling as its been in years. Both games decided by a field goal, one missed and one made. The second game was even in overtime. I found religion today and my Lord is the NFL. So how could this shaky family drama possibly hold my attention? First, by featuring the show’s best (never mind cutest) actors and by providing us with reasons to care about a relationship we already know is destined.

We resume with whom last week left us, scratching our heads, The Stranger. Or as I call him, Mysterious Biker Dude. Dude is fixing his chopper outside Regina and Henry’s residence when Oh Precocious One inquires as to what he is doing here? Dude smugly answers, “Fixing my bike,” and divulges no more information. Regina seems legitimately concerned that she doesn’t know who this guy is. Maybe he’s not connected with FTL (Fairy Tale Land) in any way? Also, there’s the whole stranger talking to my kid angle, so she may be onto something. From there, we enter the abode of the strong, sure-assured females (in all seriousness I suppose we should commend OUAT for portraying women with such agency in a show centered around stories that reenforce the most basic gender expectations) that save the show from vacuous oblivion, Mary Margaret and Emma. Mary Margaret wakes up in a tizzy because she is late. She claims she promised some of her students she’d help them with their science fair project (isn’t that cheating!) before school at 7:15. Emma scoffs that they can wait, and with one of the better lines, Mary replies, “Uh, we’re building a volcano.” Ha, because that’s a big deal, but not really. Get it? Okay, so I find Ginnifer Goodwin to be adorable. Sue me!

Turns out she isn’t meeting up with her students. Shocker, right? She sits down with a book at the coffee shop and pretends to read. Lo and behold, David walks through the door.She’s stalking him! How adorable! He says good morning, she asks how his job at the animal shelter is, he says the apes haven’t taken over yet. HA! Oh what a charming fellow. Well I’ll be they did it again! In FTL, he IS Charming. Oh dear. Anyway, she plays it off like it’s no thang and Emma walks in wondering where that volcano is. Mary fesses up that she comes at 7:15 A.M so that she can run into him. Aw…honey, he’s gonna file a restraining order! No, but Emma is much more supportive. She commiserates that love is indeed, the worst, and Mary sends us into the other realm with a you-can’t-miss-it cue: “I wish there was a magic cure.” Bet you can guess what the fairyback is about!

Thankfully, it isn’t quite that simplistic. We meet up with Snow as she is delivered her food run by Little Red Riding Hood. She also sneaks her intel about the upcoming royal wedding, in which “the love of her life whom she met but once” is the bridegroom. Snow agonizes like Mary about trying to forget that sexy-ass man. Red alludes that there might be a way, but chickens out. Snow then reminds her that she helped her when no one else would. This intrigued me because obviously the way to avoid becoming stale is to reinvent the familiar tales within an original mythology. The idea that there is an interconnectedness seems to be coming into focus so I don’t mind the vague references, for now. Not so surprisingly, good ole Rumpelstiltskin is the man with the drugs she needs to forget that one night stand with the rugged woodsman. When she finds Rumpy in a not at all shady dock covered in fog he provides her with a potion that will not only mend her broken heart, but she will forget who he is entirely. All he asks for is a strand of her hair. Either Rumpy has become a pedophile or maybe we should keep that in the back of our minds. Before she scurries off though, the impish dealmaker leaves her with parting words of wisdom, “Love is the most powerful magic there is. Love has killed more than any disease.”

Next, we pop in on the man of the hour, Prince James, who is peering out on his balcony broodingly. King George (Alan Dale, who played the wealthy and powerful Charles Widmore on “Lost”) presents him with a peace offering, a crown crafted by King Midas, his soon to be father-in-law. As fans of the show may remember, four episodes ago Prince James agreed to marry Kind Midas’ daughter Abigail as a show of good faith that they would enter an allegiance that benefits the prosperity of both kingdoms. James is sprung on Snow though, and resents his adoptive father for forcing him into forsaking her. He mocks the Midas crown rebuking that, “You could feed the kingdom for an entire winter with that crown.” Ugh, so he’s one of those annoying 99 percenters, huh? In all seriousness, I was mildly enthralled by the politics of it all, and how the King talked about the responsibility that comes with all that wealth. On another show, it might have carried more weight, but here it establishes the futility of Snow and Charming ever resuming their tryst. Ever persistent, James sends a dove with a letter for Snow. Like carrier pigeons, but more regal. The note reaches Snow just before she is about to down her potion. What she reads gives her renewed faith that they can be together, despite the odds. He asks her to come to his room that night so he knows she feels as strongly as he does.

While Mary is shopping for Apollo chocolate bars (a nod to the made-up brand featured in “Lost”) she bumps into Kathryn, David’s wife. As they sort through their stuff she stumbles upon a pregnancy test. She leaves and goes to clear her by walking though the woods (aw, the parallels) and hears a dove trapped in some wiring. It’s the same goddamn dove isn’t it. Yup, and even cheesier, when she brings the injured bird to the animal shelter (wait David works th—I know!) the doctor tells her that physically the bird will heal, but this particular dove is of a breed that develops highly monogamous relationships. If not reunited with her flock, she will be forever alone. Oh my god! The bird is just like MARY! Yeah, that hammer in your head isn’t a headache, it’s OUAT writers cramming in a metaphor.

Mary runs off, feeling akin to the bird’s struggle (I don’t know why their paths don’t intersect, like, at all) wanting to give the dove a chance at finding its loved ones. Mary slips and falls, barely hanging on to a cliff’s edge when DAVID ARRIVES! Convenient, yes. But he apparently followed her out of concern from the shelter. The cliff being a metaphor for her hanging onto feelings for David though? Kind of a stretch, don’t you think? Then like clockwork the rain comes down and they take shelter in an abandoned cabin. At this point, I grew worried this might be the beginning of a tremendously high-budget porno. Instead, Mary admits why she’s been so distant. It’s too painful to see him when they can’t be together. And yet she tortures herself by going to the coffee shop ay 7:15 every morning to see him. He laughs. “I go to the coffee shop at 7:15 every morning to see you.” My eyes rolled and I recited the line as he said it. Clearly telegraphed. And yet, it worked.

I can’t explain it, I just care about these darn kids, and I want them to be happy. The chemistry between the actors is palpable, Ginnifer is ridiculously cute as mentioned, and honestly they didn’t have to try so hard. As the kiss we all needed to relive our sexual tension was upon us, Mary thwarted it. She can’t break up Kathryn and David especially when they might be having a baby. David was unaware, but it changes things. They have to forget each other. Despite the new stakes, he resists. He explains the duality inside him in obvious terms that allude to the curse, but it nails the sentiment for me as it evokes the central question of the series thus far, “Who’s to say which one is real?” I won’t detail this theory again, but I still hope the show is moving toward this question about whether happily ever afters are not all they are cracked up to be, and that maybe it is only in the “real world” that we can find something genuinely worthwhile.

As Snow attempts to sneak into King George’s castle, Snow is locked up. Her cellmate? GRUMPY (Lee Arenberg, as seen in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies)! Grumpy tells Snow a hell of a tale about how he ended up there, blinded by love, and due to their instantaneous camaraderie, he breaks her out when his pal, Stealthy (the awesomest eight dwarf) springs him. As luck would have it, the eight dwarf doesn’t last long (gee, wonder what the point was cutting them to seven) and is killed by an arrow. Snow leverages Grumpy’s freedom for her own capture and King George presents her with an impossible choice. Either she tells the Prince that she does not love him, or Charming gets the ax. He reasons that if an assassin kills the Prince he will be viewed as a martyr and Midas will keep the alliance in his sacrifice. Because she doesn’t want to harm the one she loves, Snow lets him down easy. Not at all actually. “Fill your heart with love for someone else, someone who can love you the way I never have. The way I never will.” BOOM. He cries, she cries when she walks away, but she gains friends in the now seven dwarves. Grumpy also offers up some pretty sound advice for the grieving beauty, “I don’t want want my pain erased. It’s what makes me who I am. It makes me…Grumpy.” Yeah, it’s hokey. And when it’s supposed to be heartfelt you are focused on the pun, but it is an apt lesson about heartbreak.

While all the heartbreaking and mending is happening we do learn a bit about The Stranger too. Played by Eion Bailey,  he’s a charismatic fellow, but he’s also a sarcastic bastard. Perfect for Emma, who has a witty repartee with him. He agrees to tell her what is in his case if she shows him hers. Nah, but he does want to buy her a drink sometime. So she agrees and he reveals a typewriter. He’s a pretentious douchebag writer who stills uses a typewriter. He finds inspiration in the whimsy of Storybrooke, I guess. But when Emma asks if he has been there before, he evades the question.

The episode that jerked my heart around then ends with two last rips at my sensitivity and further emasculates me by making me care. Kathryn and David attempt to reconcile in a touching scene where both put their cards on the table and agree to do marriage counseling with Dr. Hopper/Jiminy Cricket. He also makes the conscious choice to avoid the coffee shop at 7:15. Mary, reluctantly does the same, Emma holding her hand through it. When they both decided enough time has passed it is 7:45, and they both run into each other anyway. Again, OBVIOUS metaphor for fate, but it was exactly the sort of chance resolution we all wanted deep down. They realize it is useless, they can’t avoid each other. What follows is both exactly what I might have dreamed of and not what I wanted at all. David blurts out, “Kathryn isn’t pregnant,” and with that particular barrier gone they kiss like it’s Smooch City, spinning around like nobody is watching, except someone totally is! Regina! How could they be so careless! Clearly, both of them aren’t concerned about Kathryn at all. It sort of invalidated the whole struggle before that with such an easy payoff, that didn’t involve any real shifts in circumstance from where we started. Except Regina’s got blackmail to spare. What a witch.

But then they did this. Prince Charming atop his trusty steed speeds through the forest and happens upon Snow’s cottage. Red Riding Hood is there instead and he professes that it matters not what Snow said, he won’t give up. If it wasn’t meant to be, he would seem mad clingy. The wedding is off! Cut to the dwarves hovel, where Grumpy rushes in to Snow’s bedroom to give her the great news that the and that her love awaits. Snow appears groggy. She turns to him. “Who?” She tried to find solace at the bottom of the vial. Completely ignoring Grumpy’s whole spiel about using the pain to make you stronger, she gave in and downed the whole love vaccine. NOW WHAT?

This was my favorite episode so far. No doubt. Here’s why. In ten episodes, I’ve come to terms with a few things. One, for whatever reason, the effects on this show make “Lost”  look like a feature film. This week, when they were walking through the caverns under the castle, and when the Prince rode his horse through the woods, the edges around the actors was ablaze with digital blur. Second, the dialogue is corny as hell. And not subtle. The juxtapostion of the worlds will be pointed out brutally, as if I forgot what show I was watching. And subtext will likely be zero to none. Actually, I hope it will be from hereon. The metaphors they tried in this episode were laughably inelegant. The bird, the storm, the cliff. I practically wrote those in fourth grade. But regardless of all these shortcomings I enjoyed the time spent. There were sudden reversals of fortune, there was an ending in the FTL that felt a tad Shakespearean in how it seemed tragically unavoidable, and above all it made me care about Mary/David & Snow/Charming to an embarrassing degree that I wouldn’t acknowledge outside this column. If OUAT can keep me invested in what becomes of these people, as their journey towards salvation or simple happiness becomes murky on the horizon, I will stay the course. This show will probably never be great, or win a prestigious award, but if it accomplishes this level of legitimate   feeling regularly it will be fun, and a hit, among a wide range of audiences. If this were a show with higher expectations this would be marked down more severely for its inattention to detail, but for its most appealing episode to date and for making me break down as if Taylor Swift were my gospel, I begrudgingly admit this was a B+.

The Blind Witch (Emma Caulfield) senses the presence of yummy children.

*Exasperated sigh*

So, for those of you who read my review of last week’s episode…remember all that goodwill that OUAT built up? They caught me fresh off some new year’s resolutions, a fun trip to Disney World, and legitimately entertained me with Rumpelstiltskin’s backstory, while also establishing a potential arc when Emma defied Mr. Gold and he proclaimed himself a worse enemy to have than Regina. Well, all that goodwill has been wasted, and in many ways I am officially mad at this show. The only bright spots for me were the usual: great rapport between Emma (Jennifer Morrison) and Mary Margaret (Ginnifer Goodwin, who this show needs to highlight more or perish), and the subversion of happily-ever-after in the FTL (Fairy Tale Land). And the only other consistent silver lining, the Mary/David relationship was on hiatus.

Equally disappointing was the lost potential. Not only was the source material the eepy-cray “Hansel and Gretel” story, but comedic talent Emma Caulfield (know for her work on “Buffy”) was playing the Blind Witch. I was geared up for the best fairyback yet, and for the show to finally embrace the dark side of the Force. Alas, this was the biggest letdown since “Terriers” got cancelled (anybody catch that show on FX last year? Awesome detective show. Really great writing, intense drama. Would have been a great, classic series). As mentioned there was subversion of the expected, but it was as slight as that sliver of cake your grandma takes at every birthday.

Hansel and Gretel are not kicked out of their parent’s home. They lose their father in the woods after searching for kindling. When they wander onto the main road for their search they are almost hit by the Evil Queen’s carriage (dressed in some S&M meets horse riding garb that screams someone wants to fool around in the stables). She scolds the children for impeding her path and even tries to capture them, but they scrap their way out from her guards’ grasps and instead uses magic (which is unclear because we have no idea the limitations of her power so nothing surprises us) to tie them up in tree roots. She first commends them for their ingenuity, but then offers a deal. If they go retrieve something for her, she will help them find their father. Gretel in particular does not want to help the villainess, but she knows no other way to find her father now that the compass he bestowed upon her has been broken in the scrum. EQ then outlines the task at hand: steal something from the Blind Witch for her, bring it back to her, and she will use her infinite evil resources to find Dad.

Here’s where obvious, parallel real-world scenario comes into play. Henry is perusing the local comic book joint (comics shown include recent Hulk issues written by fellow LOST alum, Damon Lindeloff) when he runs into a boy and a girl (wow, those kids look like Hansel and Gret—oh, yeah) about his age. The girl befriends him and asks if he wishes to come to their house to play. Henry, who with his fairy tale obsession must be a loner, is thrilled. But when leaving the store, the clerk makes him empty his backpack. Turns out the stranger’s kindness was a con to help steal food and supplies. Eva and Nicholas fib to Sheriff Emma that they were stealing to help their parents who are financially burdened. Apparently, Emma, who has been duped often by Storybrooke’s seedier characters, professes her bullshit-detecting powers  and follows through when she pulls off after dropping the kids at their “house” and then sneaks into the house to get the real story. Obviously, they’re orphans. Their mother is gone and they squat in their former home. Emma, who was an orphan herself, is sympathetic and decides to let them stay with Mary Margaret/Snow White Mom and her. Many might be put off by her extremely harsh opinions of the foster care system that follow. I grant you, I have a close friend who has a foster kid and is not grabbing for cash, but it is understandable how someone within could develop such a beef with that system. Because of this staunch opposition she refuses to abide by Mayor Regina’s proposition which is to put them in separate homes (the closest are in Boston).

EQ, back in FTL, warns the kids about the “special properties” of The Blind Witch’s house. “No matter how tempted you may be, you must not eat anything.” Of course, once inside they find the black satchel the Queen s desires, but as Gretel fingers it, Nicholas eats a blue-frosted cupcake and wakes the Blind Witch who immediately sniffs them out. When she locks them in a cupboard as she prepares dinner she offers up the strangely hysterical question, “Gravy or butter?” As in, would you rather be lathered in gravy or butter. Gretel then sacrifices herself and steals the key from the witch, tossing it to her brother who then breaks out. After a struggle that never seemed to have any real stakes despite the witch having weird powers to move things and throw projectiles, the kids push the witch into the oven. Then through the mirror the EQ herself hurls a fireball (apparently the mirror, like in Blue’s Clues, has the ability to transcend time and space) and burns her alive inside the oven. I suppose this would seem more ironic if it weren’t so telegraphed. Then EQ delivers her groaner of the week: “I would have gone with gravy.” The much funnier line is delivered after when she stalks Snow White via the mirror and quips, “She’s cavorting with dwarfs now, when did that happen?” I actually laughed out loud.

In her efforts to spite foster care everywhere, Sheriff Emma searches for Eva and Nicholas’ pops. Along the way, Helper Henry (who was surprisingly interesting this week, but this could have been that the other child characters this week were so stale) asks Emma about his dad. Emma, not having the heart to disappoint him makes up a story about how he was a fireman trying to save a family from a burning building. “He is the true hero, not me.” After vomiting in my mouth from all the manufactured cuteness, I wished so hard that she was BSing the kid, and it turns out she was. She reveals as much when she talks to gal pal/Mom (weird, huh?) about her own trials in the foster care system, and reveals that Henry theorizes Emma may be Mary daughter in FTL. Ginnifer Goodwin does a beautiful job subtly conveying in her eyes and gestures that she is curious and maybe even a little excited about the prospect. Of course, what the show needs to realize is that this feeling is done by showing, not telling. With models like Horowitz and Kitsis, who know the power of a striking look from LOST, David Goodman and Liz Tigelaar, should have employed this technique more, but alas we only get the real character development and emotional ploy when Mary Margaret is around. *Deeper sigh*

Also derived from the conversation was Emma’s strategy to find their dad. Apparently every orphan has some memento that was given to them by their birthparents. This seems highly unlikely, but I rolled with it. Fortunately, Eva has a compass (JUST LIKE GRETEL…oh, yeah) that she has carried with her since she was little. When Emma brings it to Mr. Gold, he is able to pinpoint the person who bought that exact compass from him. His price? Simply forgiveness for last week’s political shenanigans. Emma offers up tolerance, and he accepts. There is, a twist though. When they show the card he pulled that supposedly had the name on it, it appears blank. WHERE DOES HE GET HIS INFORMATION?! THIS WAS THE ONLY THING THAT EXCITED ME ALL EPISODE! The name she was given leads her to a mechanic in town. Oh, yeah. Henry knew he would be in town because part of the curse is no one can leave or come in. Thanks Exposition Helper Henry! When Emma reveals the existence of his two kids to the grease monkey he is predictably reluctant. Defeated, and unwilling to break the hearts of the children she says she never found him and prepares to drive them to Boston. However, she has a trick up her sleeve. As they are about to cross the Storybrooke border, Emma pretends the engine has stalled and calls for a tow. Guess who comes? No. No. No, not Rumpel—yes, the father! Finally. Anyway, he has a sudden change of heart when he looks at their downtrodden and pouty faces and decides he can raise them! What an unexpected surpr—oh who am I kidding.

As for our FTL alter egos, Hansel and Gretel, when they hand over the satchel, anticipates the Queen who pulls a fast one. After opening the satchel to reveal an apple (clearly the poison apple, or as she calls it, “a weapon,” she claims she has a “better idea” that they can stay with her! Nicholas seems intrigued by the riches by always the rebellious and boisterous type, Gretel resists her evil temptations just like at the Witch’s house. In her anger she casts them off in a poorly CGI-ed tornado and releases their father from her custody. NO WAY! No, but yeah I knew that too. I mean, she was right there when they couldn’t find him…*breathes deeply*…I’m calm now. Anyway, she casts him off too when he answers her question, “Why wouldn’t they stay with me” with “Family always finds each other.” Then in anti-climactic fashion she plops him in the expansive forest so that they can search for each other FOREVER. Or you know, until they find each other, whichever.

Then there’s the matter of the enigmatic biker dude that arrives at the very end. Clealrly, the episode itself held no intrigue or suspense on its own so they leave us with he cliffhanger of who is this dude who has come into town. BUT WAIT! How did he do that? Emma was the first stranger to come into town…ever. How did this man get there? Could this mean legitimate mystery has found its way into the show. Ehh, maybe.

My main gripe with this episode is the lack of recognition for what they could have done. They phoned this one in. I found my self singing “If only, if only” the whole hour. If only they had utilized Emma Caulfield better, and hadn’t given her corn-fest lines. If only Hansel and Gretel, an inherently dark fairy tale was actually scary. I never felt imminent danger. If only they had stopped trying to pull a fast one in the real-world plot with the lazy, predictable reversals. Oh she mad up a story about his father. Duh. The dad is gonna take them after all? Well, to create an hour-long conflict. And either of those things might not have felt so cheap if they felt less like plot points and more like actual emotions and struggles for these characters. But neither the mechanic nor Emma (Morrison’s ability to stretch the material can only go so far) made feel as though their reversals were earned or even really a consequence of anything. I was satisfied when  Emma had another opportunity to tell Henry the truth, and didn’t, but besides the obvious the why (?) still escapes me and not in a ambiguous sense, but in an unaddressed sense.

Thankfully, next week, we will be back to basics. Previews suggest another Snow White/Charming and Mary/David episode and most of the show’s energy lies with Ginnifer Goodwin and Josh Dallas’ chemistry so hopefully that will help bridge the gap. For this week, though, the fairyback was anti-climactic. The real-world plot revealed nothing plot or character wise, and what little joy I had came mostly from one loud guffaw (the cavorting with dwarfs line) and when we got to see of that budding Gilmore Girls-lite relationship between Emma and Mary Margaret. Even when this show is technically frustrating there is fun to be had, but very little kept this episode from slipping into D (as in damn that sucked) territory. But for making it out in one piece, with a couple mysterious threads hanging loose (Gold’s blank card, Henry’s father’s REAL story, and who this foreign biker dude is) My extra credit will allow OUAT to cling a second chance at life, with the promise of a better tomorrow (next week’s return to Mary/David adorability).

Emma (Jennifer Morrison) looking shocked after Sheriff Graham (Jamie Dornan) almost hits her with a dart trying to get her attention.

I’m starting to wonder if this is how Kitsis and Horowotz pitched “OUAT” to ABC execs:

“Hey millionaires! So remember LOST? Yeah, that sci-fi mystery show that got you awards and viewers all at the same time? Well, picture this in those money-grubbing noggins of yours…we take the most infuriating elements of that show, the endless barrage of questions with no answers in sight, and instead of a magical island we have a world where fairy tales are real!”

The execs respond: “It’s gold! With Disney as our parent company we will have no problem gathering the licenses for a treasure trove of characters people already know and love. They will be falling over themselves to watch the old, familiar stories while sticking around hoping that there will be some sort of new development, but there will be practically none!” (Maniacal laugh)

No, but seriously, would you be surprised if that was true? Several times we get vague references to what Snow White did to the Queen to elicit her vengeful spirit, but we still don’t know what that is. The show has been dangling this mystery for 5 weeks now, and every time it’s referenced I thank that spot in the ceiling I stare at and call God that I won’t have to agonize anymore, and then those strumpets at the OUAT writing team tease me yet again! Wicked temptresses, for God’s sake just tell me what Snow White did to her! Twice this week you awkwardly addressed that hideous elephant and nothing! The huntsman asks the Evil Queen directly, “Why do you want her killed so badly, what could she have done to deserve your revenge?” I practically shoved my ear into the TV so I wouldn’t miss a word, but all that witch could say is, “I told her a secret, and she couldn’t keep it.” UGH. Yeah, because that’s something. Oh wait, except it’s not! What kind of answer is that? Did she spread a rumor that you have an STD?

Seriously, that just multiplies the possibilities. Before last night, Snow White had owned up to her crimes and the Evil Queen divulged that her life was ruined thanks to Snow, and that is why she deserves to be cursed, and honestly I would have been okay of they just said how right then and there. Let’s pretend for a second that I would watch this show if I wasn’t obligated. Well, I’m not tuning in to figure out if Snow White really deserves to be cursed. Sure, I would be intrigued if cute-as-a-button Ginnifer Goodwin had a dark streak to her, but that would only be a small facet of my overall intrigue. What I’m dying to know, is will these people ever go back to Fairy-Tale Land, or will the real world become their Happily-Ever-After. Their constant cloudiness over this motivation to enact the curse is a pretty insignificant lynchpin, and clearly a ploy to make us care about the show’s season-long arc. For me it is accomplishing the opposite. If the thing that sticks out most about an episode of television is what I didn’t get out, that’s an ominous sign: a foreshadowing that the show has no goddamn clue where it’s headed.

Thankfully, it wasn’t all stalling tactics and we had both our first major character death and the first recognition of their previous life. Once again stealing from the pages of LOST lore, Sheriff Graham (a.k.a The Huntsman in FTL, Fairy-Tale Land) gets his first flashes of his bow and arrow slinging past when he kisses Emma because he “needs to feel something.” This theme of the vulnerability of feelings would be shoved in to as much dialogue as humanly possible, but all the same it worked for me, primarily because of how the actors were allowed to play with the “walls” we put up to avoid pain. Jennifer Morrison and Ginnifer Goodwin steal the show as always with their dynamic, as Mary Margaret starts to reveal her maternal tendencies (her alter ego Snow White is mother to Morrison’s Emma) as she cautions Emma about the pitfalls of emotional barriers: “Those walls may not let in pain, but they also don’t let in love.” It’s simplistic, and something we all encounter when we figure out too late we’ve fallen to hard for someone, but it felt sincere and Morrison played it with the same sharp-tongued skepticism, with just a dash of optimism. Maybe she is willing to share her heart with the Sheriff, but just needs a little insurance so that she won’t get crushed.

For this week’s fairyback we meet said Sheriff’s FTL persona, The Huntsman. I was captivated by this tortured killing machine who was raised by wolves, but was slightly confused as to why a man who cries after his kills (which evokes for me the ritualistic respect Native Americans would give their prey) would make a perfect assassin for the Evil Queen. Regardless, he takes the job and leads Snow into the woods disguised as a knight. She calls his bluff though, pointing out his lack of condolences given for the death of her father. He chases her through the woods for a bit, and predictably corners her. He’s puzzled that she has stopped to write a letter, and Snow asks him to deliver it to the Queen along with her heart. Oh, yeah, one badass detail I totally dug was that the Queen collects the hearts of her victims. Sweeeeeet.

When the Huntsman reads the letter of forgiveness and remorse he’s understandably touched, and he spares her. He tries to dodge the consequences initially by giving his boss the heart of a stag, but she is not easily fooled. In her rage she rips his heart out with her bare hands (also pretty badass) and stores it in a chest on her wall of fame for hearts, I guess. From then on, he is without feeling and is bound to her as a sex slave. Gotta say the kinkiness and gore was a pleasant surprise as the fairybacks continue, IMO, to be the freshest and most thrilling part of the show. The continued subversion of the typical happy endings indicates to me that the show could delve deeper and become an honest examination of how fairy tales aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. Here’s hoping.

Back in the less intriguing real world, Sheriff Graham has a vivid dream about a wolf while in bed with Regina (Evil Queen), still “trying to feel something.” And felt something he did indeed. Haha, oh sex humor. Anyways, the same wolf of his dreams appears to him in the streets and he starts to question what in the hell is happening? In his flash with Emma he saw himself lifting a knife up to stab someone who looked like Mary Margaret. He visits her, and we learn that no one seems to remember how they met each other in Storybrooke (more evidence of the curse), but otherwise she has no answers, but when he brings up past lives she directs him to Henry. Goddammit. Just when I thought it was going to be a Henry-free week. Much to the show’s credit though, we have been seeing less of him. Henry then shares The Huntsman’s story since that aligns with his flashes, and the Sheriff decides to follow the wolf as it must be his guide to the truth.

Along the way he runs into Emma, and together they inspect the forest the wolf leads them into, where they eventually end up at a large tomb. Inside, the Sheriff frantically looks for the heart that he’s convinced he doesn’t have. What else would explain the meaningless sex he’s having with Regina? I think it may have more to do with his penis than his heart, but that’s just me. Suddenly, Regina appears and is all like, “Why you snooping around my dad’s casket?” Then a sorta awesome, and much needed fistfight ensues between Emma and Regina, where Emma totally makes her bleed and Sheriff Graham tells her off claiming that it isn’t his heartlessness that’s the problem…the problem is her! GASP! When Regina tries to deflect the blame on Emma, she reminds Madame Mayor that Henry too ran away, and that maybe she needs to take a look in the mirror (HA!) and ask herself why everyone is leaving her. So what does Regina do? Oh….you know, what anyone would typically do in that scenario…climb down into the secret passageway under her dad’s casket, pull out the Sheriff’s heart and squish it into dust in her menacing grip. You know, the usual.

Though the act is cartoonish, but epic, the episode ends on a heartbreaking note as Emma finally does let love in. They share a romantic kiss and the electricity of it restores all of his past memories (again, just like the flash-sideways in LOST, where love and relationships triggered everyone’s memories), but immediately after telling Emma that he remembers he falls to his knees, dying instantly. The Regina death grip knows no mercy.

Yes, there is the emotional payoff and Morrison gets to show off her “heaving sobs while holding a dead body” chops, but it completely nullifies any advancement the episode made. The one guy who could prove that Henry was right dies as soon as he could provide that evidence. Again, if it wasn’t for the performances surrounding it all, the viewing experience would have been for nothing as we as well as the people of Storybrooke are none the wiser. Although, Emma certainly learned to not mix work and pleasure ever again, huh?

“OUAT” can both pride itself, and be ashamed for its consistency. All of the things I appreciate or even genuinely like are in full effect, but the gimmicky annoyances are always in rare form. So, for pulling my heartstrings in the Sheriff’s death (props to Jamie Dornan for going out with a bang despite little airtime to build up sympathy) and not compromising the darker sides of FTL, I tip my cap. But “Heart Is A Lonely Hunter” also dragged out needless mysteries, butchered a could-have-been thoughtful venture into vulnerability with repetitive, unsubtle dialogue, and shot the series in the foot by offing the guy who could have swung the momentum. This week’s OUAT is stag-nant (hehe, horse humor) and spurned by love again with a C+.

Josh Dallas as Prince Charming, filming his fight sequence in front of a green screen

So, in reviewing my review (cue Twilight Zone theme), I realized that in some ways maybe I was going to easy on the show. Granted a commenter (shoutout to Ablenight) felt the opposite, but I still think that I was grading this episode based on potential, on what I hoped it would become, both as a “Lost” fan rooting for Kitsis/Horowitz and as a TV fan who would love to see a quality fantasy drama on network television. I’m not ready to declare “Once Upon A Time” D.O.A yet. Truthfully, I liked a lot of what I saw last week, but because I was grading based on effort, this week’s installment takes a slight dip.

Not going to lie to you OUAT fans, most of the goodwill garnered by The Shepherd is based on a limited supply of Henry. He served his purpose, to explain to us his theory (or let’s be honest, he’s a mouthpiece for the show, so this is “the truth” as we know it) that David does not remember he is Prince Charming nor his life prior to the coma because he is has some sort of curse/amnesia hybrid plaguing him. Okay, little dude, now run along.

Once that was taken care of and we were transported into Fairy-Tale Land we were treated to a battle royal between Charming and….some Orc looking fella. Treated may be too nice of a word though. I might use subjected, because the special effects were God awful here especially. Cuts were taken too sharply and I struggled to follow the movements of both fighters, and the foggy cliff  green screen made everyone look like they were figurines up against a moving poster board made for a 5th grade science fair. Mind you, that’s me being kind.

However, when Charming got stabbed through the heart thinking his opponent was down and out, I got quite cheerful. Sure, death by sword is always awesome, but this particular reaffirmed to me the show’s commitment to subverting Disney lore with a bit of existential cloudiness. These magical beings, the ones we were so mesmerized by as children, can be made pawns of a cruel universe. Call me dead inside (I mean, that would be factually correct), but that is a great route for this show to go. The commonly held belief by Henry the Great…Pain in my Ass and OUAT-ers (?) is that Fairy-Tale Land will be their salvation. I personally would love to see the more complicated real world be a source of comfort and, heck, just as enchanted with potentials for happily-ever-after.

Due to Charming’s unexpected demise, King George (played by LOST vet, Alan Dale, who brings the same grab-life-by-the nuts attitude Charles Widmore had, to the role) consults Rumpelstiltskin. Initially, I was annoyed that Rumpelstiltskin and his fineprint-type deals would again be integral, but Carlyle’s silver-tongued demon is the best thing the show has going for it, so why not? I just wish they could diversify the baddies, or simply make the “good guys” morally gray through their own choices, as most trailblazing dramas of the last decade have. Then again, I suppose you could argue Rumpy is a conduit for evil, not a harbinger of doom himself.

King George’s predicament is this: he’s without a son to slay the dragon that threatens King Midas’ kingdom. This is personally taxing because his own kingdom is in need of gold. And well, Midas has a lot of it considering every thing he touches literally turns into gold. White people problems, huh? Rumpy doesn’t sympathize because he was the one that bequeathed Charming to him in the first place. Of course, he is always willing to make a deal so in exchange for whatever he wants, he will give King George the up-until-now secret twin brother. At first, I wondered whether the twins were Cinderella’s, but that wouldn’t work given the timeline established two episodes ago. Alas, it’s just another long lost sibling deus ex machina, which is expected, but still disappointing.

In the real world, David (Charming’s “real life” name) is having an identity crisis too. He understands that he was married to Kathryn, but doesn’t remember falling in love with her, and certainly doesn’t feel the chemistry now. He definitely has the hots for Mary Margaret (Ginnifer Goodwin) though, and who could blame him? She’s friggin’ adorable, and she saved his life. That must be true love! I’m being facetious, obviously. The duo does set off sparks when they share the screen, but this will they/won’t they is wearing slightly thin. I enjoy their interactions, and Goodwin especially has the natural sweetness to pull off “sweet girl who falls for the wrong guys,” routine with sincerity, but what seems like an unsettling question isn actually destiny.

I have no reason to question that they will get back together even when David steps into Mr. Gold’s (Rumpy as real-world sleaze) pawn shop and eyes a windmill that jogs his memory. For an object that feels like it should be Chekhov’s windmill, something that was planted beforehand and emphasized so that we know it will resurface, I have no idea what it means. It was mentioned once when Kathryn was trying to jog David’s memory of their past life together, but is it somehow enchanted in Mr Gold’s shop? What memories does it conjure up? Much like the “twist” at the end of last week’s episode, I’m intrigued, but it feels like contrived, like I’m being manipulated to care.

And there is a lot I actually care about. For one, I care about Emma finding her place in Storybrooke. Her story gets a similar “men will disappoint you” treatment when she sees Sheriff Graham climbing out of Regina’s window during her midnight rounds. It was funny to see him shimmy down (shimmying is, after all, ridiculous), yes, but when we see Emma shake her head, we sigh, knowing her pain and wishing she didn’t have to be so jaded. Earlier, when trying to ease Mary Margaret’s mind, she laments her bad decisions with men and says that whenever she has had a hunch she was doing the wrong thing, it was wrong. This futility is relatable, and I’m invested in her and Mary’s happiness. But with Mary, there’s no indication that Fairy-Tale Land’s prophecy will not come true.

You know, that may be a huge problem with the show as a whole. A lack of surprise. I am continuously surprised by the grim truths our Fairy-Tale inhabitants must face. The realization that Prince Charming 2.0 could never see his mom again or the entire kingdom would fall apart is an impossibly huge, but nonetheless horrible, burden for a small farm boy to handle. I couldn’t help but think of Luke Skywalker, hopping on a speeder to Mos Eisley Cantina with a Jedi Knight only to come back to his farm and find his adoptive parrots charred to bits by the Empire. This Momma’s boy commiserated with Charming 2.0, because mothers can be amazing supports that you always want to have in your arsenal, and to lose that security is to not only lose love, but lose a bit of yourself. Those same kinds of stakes don’t exist in this show’s “real world.” Yes, at episode’s end David is trying to make things work with Kathryn and Mary Margaret is double-fisting drinks with a douchey doctor, but does anybody doubt at all that Henry is right and Emma will somehow break the curse and bring happiness for all Storybrooke’s townsfolk again? I’m more invested in the dark underpinnings of how Fairy-Tale Land came to be a breeding ground for widespread joy, the idea that Happily-Ever-After comes at a price that MUST be paid. If Happily-Ever-After has already been achieved, then it won’t be long before the magical reset button is hit.

Unless the show can convince me soon that Fairy-Tale Land was flawed from the beginning, that this curse is actually a road to redemption for these characters, and that they can only truly achieve happiness beyond the magical bounds of their homeland, then I might return to my faith of weeks prior. Right now, I just can’t see the magical forest through the singing trees, or whatever tress do in fairy tales. I’m seeing a formula at play, a formula that indicates a fairyback (a fairy-tale flashback, a term coined at The AV Club http://www.avclub.com/articles/the-shepherd,65911/) for each major character that provides insight into how each of them has been effectively pushed away from their paths to true happiness (whatever they think that is) by the curse. But through Emma-induced miracles, happiness starts to become reality and the Queen’s curse is rendered powerless. Storybrooke is no longer appears as a backwoods town in Maine, and is restored to it’s storyBOOK sheen. To me, that end as telegraphed is not exciting or rewarding. This would only reinforce that magic, an unattainable, intangible force (like fate) is what we need to be happy. Wouldn’t it be an even greater Happily Ever After, if it we could find it within ourselves?

I’m not ruling out the possibility that OUAT could rise to the heights of inspirational, emotionally resonant and fulfilling entertainment. “Lost” did it on ABC, why couldn’t this show? But I can only consider what I’ve been presented with thus far, and what I’ve seen is a lack of improvement week-to-week, or rather a complacency to stick with what works instead of expanding upon those strengths. “The Shepherd,” was especially frustrating, too, for its sloppy use of special effects during the Prince’s battle sequences. In spite of a host of consistently compelling performances (of which I would now include Josh Dallas as Charming/David and vehemently exclude Lana Parilla as Regina/Evil Queen and Jared Gilmore as Henry), I have my made my choice, C+.

Terry Gilliam’s films have always had the feel and look of a child’s dream. From his hilarious and terrifying view of the future in "Brazil" to the dark corners of imagination in "The Brothers Grimm," Gilliam’s lush stories are essentially fairy tales gone terribly, terribly wrong.

So perhaps it’s fitting that 10-year-old Quinn Lord was the one to speak to Blast about his role in Gilliam’s newest film, "The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus." The feisty young actor, who previously played the terrifying pumpkin head in "Trick ‘r Treat," discussed working with Gilliam, hanging out with Vern Troyer, and the simple joys of blood, guts, and gore.

Blast: What was it like working on this movie with your director Terry Gilliam?

Quinn Lord: Terry Gilliam is amazing to work with. He’s a fabulous director, he always has these great movies. I’ve watched "Doctor Parnassus" like three times, and I notice something different each time I watch it.

BLAST: So there’s always something going on that you don’t catch the first time.

QL: It’s so special, about that. It’s eye-catching or something. Some magic that he has in his movies.

BLAST: So you’ve got quite a few films and television shows under your belt — which was your favorite film to do?

QL: I would say "Trick ‘r Treat." It’s a good movie. I got to work with Michael Doherty; he wanted me to watch "The Shining." I wasn’t even scared of that movie, I wasn’t scared of anything.

BLAST: It didn’t frighten you, really?

QL: Yeah, really! I didn’t get frightened at all. “Heeeere’s Johnny!”

BLAST: That’s impressive. I’ve seen that movie several times and it still scares me. So what did you like about that experience?

QL: The best part was backstage, I was looking at all the meaty, gut things. It was very impressive!

BLAST: So you liked the gross stuff.

QL: Yeah, I was about to say, gory.

BLAST: You’re still very young, but what have you learned as an actor from when you first started? When you go into act, do you do anything to prepare yourself?

QL: Yes, yes, it’s very easy to get into the horrifying characters. It’s why I like the creepy, creepy, creepy roles. The most fun I’ve ever had with like the gory stuff was when I was on "Smallville."

BLAST: This is going to be a big movie — are you nervous about being famous?

QL: I’m not nervous of anything. I’m like the tough guy who can go through the scariest movies, like "The Shining" and other scary movies. I can work through the blood and gore — even if it like rains blood from the sky, it’s no problem. And being famous — I’d like it.

BLAST: Are you going to be doing any more horror films, because it seems that’s where your interest lies.

QL: I’m going to be in another scary-ish movie (“Second Chances”), but I’m the good guy in that one. It’s with Melissa George I think.

BLAST: Do you want to play the villain again?

QL: Yes, I am up for villains. Villains are the explosion! The gore explosion. I get a kick out of the bad guys, they’re so fun to play.

BLAST: So what’s next for you — what are you up to right now?

QL: Right now? Right now, I think I want to watch a movie. Like "Army of Darkness," "Back to the Future," that kind of thing. I like the time warps and time paradoxes, stuff like that.

BLAST: Well that must have been interesting to do in "Doctor Parnassus," that thing about time and space.

QL: Yeah, there’s a lot of story in there. And I really want one of those mirrors — when you see the movie, you’ll want one too. Everyone would pretty much want one. Everyone would come out of the theater and say, “Wow I really want one of those mirrors!”

BLAST: Just one last question for you. What are you up to next in terms of your work, in terms of acting?

QL: I have auditioned for some stuff, and I’m coming very close to a film. I’ve got my fingers crossed.

BLAST: Is there anything else you’d like to say? I know a lot of our readers are very excited about this movie.

QL: Yes. "Doctor Parnassus" is mind-blowing. Well, not mind-blowing literally, but metaphorically it will blow lots of people’s minds.

Boston Ballet’s The Sleeping Beauty danced its way into the hearts of a packed house Friday night.‚ 

The opening curtain revealed vibrant costumes of red and orange.‚  Women of the Court and their men dressed in their best were present at the christening of the Princess Aurora. Young Fairy Godmothers contrasted the Women of the Court in cool colored costumes of blues and purples. The Godmothers each honored the infant princess with a solo dance. Some more traditional, others with flare that caused pleasant laughter throughout the theater. Their graceful flutters across the stage melted with the musical score to tell the story of a happier time.

While out of synch in places, the use of lines and beautiful choreography made this act a favorite among the audience. At the end of the prologue Fairy Carabosse, arrives and is angered that she has not been invited to the celebration. Riding on stage with the help of her four evil hobbit-like attendants in a chariot made of twisted branches, she casts a dark spell upon the young royal,‚  distressing everyone on stage until the beautiful Lilac Fairy comes to the rescue.

In act one the audience meets the young, graceful, and high-energy princess Aurora. Celebrating her twentieth birthday, four suitors come to court her but she dances with and dismisses them all.‚  When presented with a sparkling spindle from an ominously trudging hooded stranger, she leaps and twirls around the stage with excitement until she pricks her finger. At that moment the hooded stranger reveals herself as the evil Fairy Carabosse and the princess and all her guests fall into a deep sleep that will last for a hundred years until the spell is broken with a kiss from a prince. Layers of curtains fall to build a dense forest around the sleeping princess as act one ends.

The love story between Prince Florimud and princess Aurora comes to life in act two. While hunting in the forest, the prince sees the ethereal dancing princess in visions created by good Lilac Fairy. The Prince tries to dance with the beautiful vision but to his frustration cannot touch her and is soon led by the Lilac Fairy to his sleeping love. Mounting a boat and floating across the stage through fog and woods they finally enter the great gates where the princess lays. The prince enters the room and kisses his love to break the spell.

In the final act the wedding takes place. Everyone from mythical lands attends, from the Puss in Boots and the White Cat to Belle and the Beast. Each performs a duet to honor the soon to be newlyweds.

While some partners danced several times and seemed to take away from the love story, others added comic relief and refreshment. The audience cheered while the White Cat swatted away the advances of Puss and laughed as the two danced in circles chasing each others tails. This act felt very long and didn’t seem to focus on the lovebirds, Florimud and Aurora, who had a few duets with beautiful choreography in which the prince lifted his love into the air in stunning formations.

In the end, the audience gave a standing ovation. The prologue definitely stole the show as well as the Puss in Boots and the White Cat.‚ 

The Boston Ballet’s performance of The Sleeping Beauty swept up its audience in a timeless love story while still not taking itself too seriously — incorporating silly anecdotes throughout the performance. The show is a hit for all ages with something for everyone and the vibrant costumes and beautiful backdrops are sure to have you sitting on the edge of your seat for the whole Theatre through May 3.

The story of Sleeping Beauty is widely known by every generation.‚  Most forget however that the popular Disney movie with all of its singing squirrels and flying fairies was preceded by the popular ballet of the same name that has captivated audiences for over a century.

Charles Perrault first published the traditional fairytale of Sleeping Beauty in 1697.‚  In 1890 Sleeping Beauty was preformed as a ballet in St. Petersburg to a score by Pytor Tchaikovsky with choreography by Marius Petipa. It would come to be known as Tchaikovsky’s first major success in ballet composition and the choreography was held as a standard for composers to come.

A cross between exquisite solos and elaborate party scenes Sleeping Beauty has every element of a fairytale ballet.‚  There is the evil witch with her menacing accomplices, good fairies, prince charming, and a blonde princess. Over the 100-year span it covers birth, death, marriage and everything in-between.‚  The ballet becomes more than just a story of love and spinning wheels, but a narrative carefully told through movement, expression and music.‚  With the single flick of a finger a ballerina may express what had taken a song in any cartoon version.

With updated scores by Jonathan McPhee, Boston Ballet Musical Director, and choreography by Artistic Director Mikko Nissinen The Sleeping Beauty never gets old at the Boston Ballet.‚  Running at the Wang Theater from April 23, 2009 to May 3, 2009, The Sleeping Beauty promises to revisit old memories and create new ones.

Pakistani author Danyal Mueenuddin begins his inaugural book simply, with a dedication to his mother and an epigraph: “Three things for which we kill — Land, women and gold.”

The Punjabi proverb, written in English and the highly stylized lettering of Urdu calligraphy, anticipates with startling accuracy the source of conflict in Mueenuddin’s brilliant debut collection of fiction, In Other Rooms, Other Wonders.

In the title story, the wealthy patriarch of a feudal landowning family, KK Harouni, falls for Husna, a shrewd, young social climber looking to integrate herself into the glitzy, jet-setting life of Lahore’s wealthy elite. Much to the chagrin of Harouni’s europhile daughters and estranged wife, Harouni takes Husna, with her simple clothes and unrefined manners — imagine a Pakistani Eliza Doolittle, if you will — under his roof, at first only as a servant of sorts, but eventually as a mistress.

Husna shows up at Harouni’s door, a distantly related young girl of a family that “had not so much fallen into poverty as failed to rise”. Harouni, a disinterested old man who seems bored to tears with almost everything, finds in Husna a relief from the redundancies of upper crust Lahore. As he explains to his daughter, “She keeps me company. She’s no genius, if you like, but she can play cards and so on.” Mueenuddin’s characters seldom try to sugarcoat the facts of life.

As many of the women in the Mueenuddin’s grim fairy tales, Husna assumes she can use feminine wiles to climb the social ladder, and avoid marriage to “a compromise, a salary man.” And at first, she succeeds, until, also like many of Mueenuddin’s stories, the fairytale ending is pulled right out from beneath her.

Mueenuddin builds up his reader’s hope for his characters, only to vindictively strip all hope away in the end. In ‘Saleema’, a young woman and her drugged-up husband move to the cramped servant quarters of the Harouni estate. The woman, Saleema, is the daughter of a prostitute mother and a heroin addicted father seeking for herself a better life. As a maid for the Harouni’s, she meets Rafik, a gentle and reserved valet. Saleema hopes that their affair can somehow make of her an honest woman. Before Rafik, “her love affairs had been so plainly mercantile transactions that she hadn’t learned to be coquettish. But that little hopeful girl in her awoke now.”

The reader can’t help but root for the honest and wide-eyed (though admittedly shrewd) Saleema, but it’s not long before she winds up drug-addled and dead herself, her child with Rafik begging “in the streets, one of the sparrows of Lahore”.

In Other Rooms, Other Wonders is partly an exploration into the harsh realities of a modern-day society still bound by class. If this had been Cinderella, most of Mueenuddin’s stories would have ended halfway through, but instead, in his Pakistan, happiness is usually short-lived. Like Husna and Saleema, his characters end up learning a harsh lesson: you can move up or down the ladder, but in the end, motion in Pakistan is only horizontal.

The collection is, in the tradition of Balzac’s original Comƒ©die humaine, eight stories bound together by the common thread of the moneyed KK Harouni’s household and extended family. Characters reappear throughout the book — sometimes on the main stage, and sometimes as a side note. Set in the Pakistani district of Punjab, Mueenuddin’s stories follow the lives of the rich and powerful Harouni family and its employees — from the managers, drivers, gardeners, cooks, and servants to the patriarch’s young, traveled nephew in Paris.

The collection sheds light on contemporary Pakistan’s many faces, from the inhabitants of impoverished rural Pakistan to the young, bored nouveau- rich gracing Mueenuddin’s pages feasting on lavish picnics of champagne and cheese or as coke-snorting snobs at Halloween parties in Islamabad.

Reading In Other Rooms, In Other Wonders, you often get the sense that writing the collection was in some ways Mueenuddin’s method for working out his own problems of identity and feelings towards Pakistan. He spent the first years of his childhood in Pakistan, then was shipped off to an East Coast boarding school at 13 and went on to attend Dartmouth College. A decade after first moving to America, he returned to Pakistan to help his aging father uphold family property that was in danger of being taken over by crafty managers. He spent seven years alone on this farm – an isolated 10 hours from Lahore by a bumpy road – before he moved back to the US to study law at Yale and practice corporate law in New York. Eventually, Mueenuddin, tired of the corporate sector, received a Master of Fine Arts and returned to manage the Pakistan farm, in his spare time writing what would become the stories of In Other Rooms, Other Wonders, which were first picked up by literary rags like The New Yorker and Granta.

In Mueenuddin’s work, you easily see the characters and colors of his own life. The crafty managers and wily servants of his father’s farm are the same characters who occupy KK Harouni’s farm and Lahore estate, and color the pages in tales like ‘Provide, Provide’ (writes Mueenuddin, Jaglani “would receive a brief telegram, NEED FIFTY THOUSAND IMMEDIATELY” and he would “sell the land at half price, the choice pieces to himself, putting it in the names of his servants and relatives.”). In ‘Lily’, the title character’s eventual betrothed manages his father’s old farm, 10 hours from Lahore by a rough road, where he is beginning to grow vegetables in greenhouses, just as Mueenuddin himself does now. And in the tale ‘Our Lady of Paris’, the character, Sohail, perhaps bears resemblance to Mueenuddin’s own identity struggle: the wealthy Yale law school-educated son of KK Harouni’s brother, Sohail struggles with what to do next in his life – move back to Pakistan and take over his father’s business dealings or live in America with his American girlfriend Helen.

This is the first post in Blast’s new Literary section — aiming to insert a little more culture into our Gen Y world.

Many years ago there lived an Emperor, who was so excessively fond of grand new clothes that he spent all his money upon them, that he might be very fine. He did not care about his soldiers, nor about the theatre, and only liked to drive out and show his new clothes. He had a coat for every hour of the day; and just as they say of a king, “He is in council,” so they always said of him, “The Emperor is in the wardrobe.”

In the great city in which he lived it was always very merry; every day came many strangers; one day two rogues came: they gave themselves out as weavers, and declared they could weave the finest stuff any one could imagine. Not only were their colors and patterns, they said, uncommonly beautiful, but the clothes made of the stuff possessed the wonderful quality that they became invisible to any one who was unfit for the office he held, or was incorrigibly stupid.

“Those would be capital clothes!” thought the Emperor. “If I wore those, I should be able to find out what men in my empire are not fit for the places they have; I could tell the clever from the dunces. Yes, the stuff must be woven for me directly!”

And he gave the two rogues a great deal of cash in hand, that they might begin their work at once.

As for them, they put up two looms, and pretended to be working; but they had nothing at all on their looms. They at once demanded the finest silk and the costliest gold; this they put into their own pockets, and worked at the empty looms till late into the night.

“I should like to know how far they have got on with the stuff,” thought the Emperor. But he felt quite uncomfortable when he thought that those who were not fit for their offices could not see it. He believed, indeed, that he had nothing to fear for himself, but yet he preferred first to send some one
else to see how matters stood. All the people in the city knew what peculiar power the stuff possessed, and all were anxious to see how bad or how stupid their neighbors were.

“I will send my honest old Minister to the weavers,” thought the Emperor. “He can judge best how the stuff looks, for he has sense, and no one understands his office better than he.”

Now the good old Minister went out into the hall where the two rogues sat working at the empty looms.

“Mercy on us!” thought the old Minister, and he opened his eyes wide. “I cannot see anything at all!” But he did not say this.

Both the rogues begged him to be so good as to come nearer, and asked if he did not approve of the colors and the pattern. Then they pointed to the empty loom, and the poor old Minister went on opening his eyes; but he could see nothing, for there was nothing to see.

“Mercy!” thought he, “can I indeed be so stupid? I never thought that, and not a soul must know it. Am I not fit for my office? No, it will never do for me to tell that I could not see the stuff.”

“Don’t you say anything to it?” asked one, as he went on weaving.

“O, it is charming – quite enchanting!” answered the old Minister, as he peered through his spectacles. “What a fine pattern, and what colors! Yes, I shall tell the Emperor that I am very much pleased with it.”

“Well, we are glad of that,” said both the weavers; and then they named the colors, and explained the strange pattern. The old Minister listened attentively, that he might be able to repeat it when the Emperor came. And he did so.

Now the rogues asked for more money, and silk and gold, which they declared they wanted for weaving. They put all into their own pockets, and not a thread was put upon the loom; they continued to work at the empty frames as before.

The Emperor soon sent again, dispatching another honest officer of the court, to see how the weaving was going on, and if the stuff would soon be ready. He fared just like the first: he looked and looked, but, as there was nothing to be seen but the empty looms, he could see nothing.

“Is not that a pretty piece of stuff?” asked the two rogues; and they displayed and explained the handsome pattern which was not there at all.

“I am not stupid!” thought the man: “it must be my good office, for which I am not fit. It is funny enough, but I must not let it be noticed.” And so he praised the stuff which he did not see, and expressed his pleasure at the beautiful colors and charming pattern. “Yes, it is enchanting,” he told the
Emperor.

All the people in the town were talking of the gorgeous stuff. The Emperor wished to see it himself while it was still upon the loom. With a whole crowd of chosen men, among whom were also the two honest statesmen who had already been there, he went to the two cunning rogues, who were now
weaving with might and main without fibre or thread.

“Is not that splendid?” said the two statesmen, who had already been there once. “Does not your Majesty remark the pattern and the colors?” And they pointed to the empty loom, for they thought that the others could see the stuff.

“What’s this?” thought the Emperor. “I can see nothing at all! That is terrible. Am I stupid? Am I not fit to be Emperor? That would be the most dreadful thing that could happen to me. O, it is very pretty!” he said aloud. “It has our highest approbation.” And he nodded in a contented way, and gazed at the empty loom, for he would not say that he saw nothing. The whole suite whom he had with him looked and looked, and saw nothing, any more than the rest; but, like the Emperor, they said, “That is pretty!” and counseled him to wear the splendid new clothes for the first time at the great procession that was presently to take place. “It is splendid, excellent!” went from mouth to mouth. On all sides there seemed to be general rejoicing, and the Emperor gave the rogues the title of Imperial Court Weavers.

The whole night before the morning on which the procession was to take place, the rogues were up, and kept more than sixteen candles burning. The people could see that they were hard at work, completing the Emperor’s new clothes. They pretended to take the stuff down from the loom; they made cuts in the air with great scissors; they sewed with needles without thread; and at last they said, “Now the clothes are ready!”

The Emperor came himself with his noblest cavaliers; and the two rogues lifted up one arm as if they were holding something, and said, “See, here are the trousers! here is the coat! here is the cloak!” and so on. “It is as light as a spider’s web: one would thin one had nothing on; but that is just the
beauty of it.”

“Yes,” said all the cavaliers; but they could not see anything, for nothing was there.

“Will your Imperial Majesty please to condescend to take off your clothes?” said the rogues; “then we will put on you the new clothes here in front of the great mirror.”

The Emperor took off his clothes, and the rogues pretended to put on him each new garment as it was ready; and the Emperor turned round and round before the mirror.

“O, how well they look! how capitally they fit!” said all. “What a pattern! what colors! That is a splendid dress!”

“They are standing outside with the canopy, which is to be borne above your Majesty in the procession!” announced the head Master of the Ceremonies.

“Well, I am ready,” replied the Emperor. “Does it not suit me well?” And then he turned again to the mirror, for he wanted it to appear as if he contemplated his adornment with great interest.

The two chamberlains, who were to carry the train, stooped down with their hands toward the floor, just as if they were picking up the mantle; then they pretended to be holding something in the air. They did not dare to let it be noticed that they saw nothing.

So the Emperor went in procession under the rich canopy, and every one in the streets said, “How incomparable are the Emperor’s new clothes! what a train he has to his mantle! how it fits him!” No one would let it be perceived that he could see nothing, for that would have shown that he was not fit for his office, or was very stupid. No clothes of the Emperor’s had ever had such a success as these.

“But he has nothing on!” a little child cried out at last.

“Just hear what that innocent says!” said the father: and one whispered to another what the child had said.

“But he has nothing on!” said the whole people at length. That touched the Emperor, for it seemed to him that they were right; but the thought within himself, “I must go through with the procession.” And so he held himself a little higher, and the chamberlains held on tighter than ever, and carried the train which did not exist at all.