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"You know when you're alive because you can feel…"
Life on Mars 2.08 – Enigmatic to the End!
I can't even begin to gather my thoughts coherently, even now. Fabulous episode, although the ending left me a little unsatisfied. I would say that I'll just run through the fabulousness of the episode first, and deal with the ending later, but it's all kind of intimately intertwined, really, so that won't work. Have to go with the random stream of consciousness instead.
I'm not actually sure what I was expecting. Maybe I got sucked into the PR about the twist in the tail, even though I know most of that is always more about tantalising viewers to keep them watching than anything else. So maybe I was expecting some kind of concrete Answer. Like…42, say. I should have known better! This is Life on Mars, and if there's one thing this show doesn't do, its give concrete answers. Way too post-modern for that.
Or possibly post-structuralist, rather than post-modern. It's all about meanings and definitions. Define 'madness'. Define 'sanity'. Define 'reality'. Sam sure can't.
This episode picks up very much where the last one left off, which was with a very definite break in Sam's assimilation into 1973 life. The biggest overarching theme of this season has been Sam's gradual acceptance of his life in 1973, and a growing sense of being part of a team there, whether he always agrees with or approves of the rough-and-ready methods of his colleagues or not. In 2.07 (man, these episodes so need names!) he actively turned his back on his own preferred methods in order to save Gene, only for the twist in the tail to send him tailspinning right back to square one.
So much about this episode resonates so strongly with the first ever episode, and that was really beautifully done, from Sam placing his hand on Annie's chest to feel her heart beating, to jumping off the roof at the end, just as he'd wanted to do back then. And in between just so much confusion and desperation – never has it been so important to distinguish between reality and fantasy, and never has it been so difficult. Sam thinks he's finally got a firm grasp on what is happening to him and what to do about it – what he's always believed and wanted – only to have that belief turned completely on its head leaving him floundering more hopelessly than ever. Nothing is ever easy, eh.
More completely perhaps than ever, the start of the episode sets it up for how it will unwind: following on from the enigmatic words from Frank Morgan at the end of 2.07, Sam receives – or seems to receive – absolute confirmation of what he's always believed, or wanted to believe. He is in a coma in 2006 and the cause of that coma, a brain tumour, has finally been identified. On the temporal lobe, no less, which could explain a lot about the time travelling fantasy. Sam is about to undergo an operation to remove that tumour and bring him home at last.
Makes sense, no? Especially to Sam. It confirms what he's always believed, or wanted to believe, about his bizarre 1973 life. And it completely reverses the progress he's made there, becoming part of the team. He does a complete flip – from going way out on a limb to save Gene last episode, he is now actively working to bring the other man down, seeking to destroy him utterly. Gene is the cancer in Sam's brain that must be completely excised in order for him to recover.
Or is he? Was the message giving Sam that information nothing more than a hallucination and Morgan's seeming confirmation of it merely misunderstanding on Sam's part? That, too, appears to be completely true, when a full and frank conversation with Morgan lays everything on the line for Sam. He is working undercover for C Division in Hyde, his mission to bring down Gene Hunt, who is considered criminally negligent. His hallucinations and confusion are a result of the accident he had when he first arrived; he is suffering from amnesia, and his name isn't even really Sam Tyler.
Sam's confusion and despair know no bounds. Which explanation is real? Which is nothing but his mind playing tricks on him? How can he tell?
Kind of helps you understand how mentally ill people can end up doing such extreme things, the boundaries between reality and fantasy can be so devastatingly blurred.
Sam wants to go home. No matter how much he's bonded with the people in 1973, Annie especially, his desire to go home has always been his strongest motivator. Even when his sense of 1973 team spirit was at its strongest we saw him choosing to stay at home in his pokey little bed-sit awaiting messages from the Great Beyond rather than go out with his friends, with Annie. Here, when it seems confirmed beyond all doubt that his life here is nothing but a fantasy, that desire to go home intensifies exponentially. Convinced now all over again that these people are not real, he is willing to do anything, whatever it takes, to aid his recovery – complete the operation – and get himself home at last.
But then when his hopes are crushed and he comes to believe that he was wrong all along, that he's been mentally ill and hallucinating all along, his sense of loyalty to these people resurfaces. If they are real people after all, then his actions have consequences far beyond his own needs and desires, and that changes everything.
Conflicted much? At this point the episode is just beyond excellent, with the boundaries between perceptions of truth and fantasy so utterly, utterly blurred.
The specifics of the case, as usual, are totally secondary to what's going on in Sam's mind, and thus relatively simple. Gene is trying to foil a big wages heist in his usual ham-handed fashion and Sam, despairing of his superior's methods more than ever due to his own circumstances, is trying to foil Gene's sting, believing that officers are being placed in unnecessary danger and that Gene has finally gone too far.
Who is right and who is wrong? Is Frank Morgan a surgeon in 2006 trying to save Sam's life by cutting a tumour out of his brain? Is Frank Morgan a DCI at C Division in Hyde, conducting an undercover operation against an incompetent colleague in another department? Is the 1973 Frank Morgan a figment of Sam's imagination, his mind playing tricks on him? Is Sam an undercover officer suffering from amnesia and hallucinations, or is he a comatose patient lying in hospital in 2006 and experiencing unusually vivid dreams?
The beauty of this show is that Sam genuinely Does Not Know the answer to any of those questions, and thus neither does the audience, not for sure, whatever either party might think they know. John Simm never ceases to amaze me with his acting of Sam's utter confusion and desolation and moments of joy.
It all comes to a dramatic climax when Sam and Morgan's joint operation against Gene and his team turns out to be what betrays them, resulting in a terrifying shoot-out. Morgan lets Sam down by not providing the backup he'd promised, and the pull of loyalty to the colleagues he's been working alongside for so long leaves Sam more uncertain than ever. One by one he watches them fall, although they all manage to escape any truly serious injuries, which could be very telling. But it's enough for Sam, watching, to be drawn into the light…
And wake up in hospital. On Hyde Ward, his room number the same as that telephone number that's been haunting him, with his mother at his side and Doctor Frank Morgan telling him his surgery was a success, even though the tumour wasn't actually removed. It was benign, the pressure was relieved; he is going to be just fine.
There is no surgical scar and no shaving of the head to indicate that any kind of surgery has taken place. That could also be very telling. Because Sam wakes up, and he gets on with his life in 2006, and it's what he has always wanted, and yet… It's unsatisfying.
"You know you're alive because you can feel."
Has Sam really woken up, or is this just another hallucination? Is it a 2006 coma hallucination or a 1973 waking hallucination? If 1973 felt so real to him, more real, even, than his supposedly real life, how does he tell? This is the dilemma now facing him – the solution he so desperately sought has resolved nothing, only presented him with a whole new swathe of questions. Especially when he realises that he's been able to cut his hand open without even noticing. Didn't feel a thing.
"And you know when you're dead because you can't feel anything."
So that's where the twist in the tail comes in. Sam comes to a decision, goes up onto the roof, and jumps off, just as he wanted to in the very first episode to wake himself up, and the music is gorgeous, and Sam looks happy, and the screen goes blank, and maybe it all should have ended there. Except…
I'm not sure what kind of message the ending really sends to the viewing public. Sam jumps off the roof, and wakes up right back in 1973, exactly where he left off, just in time to save the day, be reconciled with his colleagues, and finally make a move on Annie. And they all live happily every after.
Or do they? Because ultimately it is a very, very enigmatic ending for a very, very enigmatic show, and I think I could watch it 50 times and come up with new interpretations every time.
It all comes down to definitions and meanings and which reality is perceived to be the 'right' one.
If Sam genuinely did wake up from his coma, only to decide that he preferred his 1973 fantasy and jump off a roof so he could go back to it, leaving behind the friends and relatives who'd been so devoted to him during his long illness...well, that's kind of a bleak life message to be sending, really. Deeply unsatisfying – pick your own reality, and if you don't like the one you're in, commit suicide to get to another. But is that what happened?
Maybe Sam really was insane in 1973, and hallucinated waking up in 2006 as a result of being in such a stressful situation. Unlikely, perhaps, but if we're picking our own realities, why not?
"Every day I wake up, and I tell myself 'I'm alive'."
Or maybe he's still in the same coma that he's always been in, and never did wake up, only believed he had, possibly due to the surgery he was apparently undergoing. Jumping off the roof to get back to 1973 could be interpreted as rallying, deciding to live, even if in a comatose dream world. It's a world that feels completely real to him, populated by people he has grown to care about – as good a reality to choose as any.
So…for all its flaws, 1973 life is infinitely preferable to modern life, is that the message we're supposed to take away?
Doesn't seem terribly positive to me, and that, I think, is why I find the ending of this fabulous show unsatisfying. The ambiguity of it all works so wonderfully on so many levels, really hits home emotionally, and is entirely consistent with how utterly enigmatic the show has always been – but on closer scrutiny it also leaves a lot of 'huh?' and not in good ways.
Overall? Fabulous episode and a fabulous show, but the ending leaves me unsatisfied.
I can't even begin to gather my thoughts coherently, even now. Fabulous episode, although the ending left me a little unsatisfied. I would say that I'll just run through the fabulousness of the episode first, and deal with the ending later, but it's all kind of intimately intertwined, really, so that won't work. Have to go with the random stream of consciousness instead.
I'm not actually sure what I was expecting. Maybe I got sucked into the PR about the twist in the tail, even though I know most of that is always more about tantalising viewers to keep them watching than anything else. So maybe I was expecting some kind of concrete Answer. Like…42, say. I should have known better! This is Life on Mars, and if there's one thing this show doesn't do, its give concrete answers. Way too post-modern for that.
Or possibly post-structuralist, rather than post-modern. It's all about meanings and definitions. Define 'madness'. Define 'sanity'. Define 'reality'. Sam sure can't.
This episode picks up very much where the last one left off, which was with a very definite break in Sam's assimilation into 1973 life. The biggest overarching theme of this season has been Sam's gradual acceptance of his life in 1973, and a growing sense of being part of a team there, whether he always agrees with or approves of the rough-and-ready methods of his colleagues or not. In 2.07 (man, these episodes so need names!) he actively turned his back on his own preferred methods in order to save Gene, only for the twist in the tail to send him tailspinning right back to square one.
So much about this episode resonates so strongly with the first ever episode, and that was really beautifully done, from Sam placing his hand on Annie's chest to feel her heart beating, to jumping off the roof at the end, just as he'd wanted to do back then. And in between just so much confusion and desperation – never has it been so important to distinguish between reality and fantasy, and never has it been so difficult. Sam thinks he's finally got a firm grasp on what is happening to him and what to do about it – what he's always believed and wanted – only to have that belief turned completely on its head leaving him floundering more hopelessly than ever. Nothing is ever easy, eh.
More completely perhaps than ever, the start of the episode sets it up for how it will unwind: following on from the enigmatic words from Frank Morgan at the end of 2.07, Sam receives – or seems to receive – absolute confirmation of what he's always believed, or wanted to believe. He is in a coma in 2006 and the cause of that coma, a brain tumour, has finally been identified. On the temporal lobe, no less, which could explain a lot about the time travelling fantasy. Sam is about to undergo an operation to remove that tumour and bring him home at last.
Makes sense, no? Especially to Sam. It confirms what he's always believed, or wanted to believe, about his bizarre 1973 life. And it completely reverses the progress he's made there, becoming part of the team. He does a complete flip – from going way out on a limb to save Gene last episode, he is now actively working to bring the other man down, seeking to destroy him utterly. Gene is the cancer in Sam's brain that must be completely excised in order for him to recover.
Or is he? Was the message giving Sam that information nothing more than a hallucination and Morgan's seeming confirmation of it merely misunderstanding on Sam's part? That, too, appears to be completely true, when a full and frank conversation with Morgan lays everything on the line for Sam. He is working undercover for C Division in Hyde, his mission to bring down Gene Hunt, who is considered criminally negligent. His hallucinations and confusion are a result of the accident he had when he first arrived; he is suffering from amnesia, and his name isn't even really Sam Tyler.
Sam's confusion and despair know no bounds. Which explanation is real? Which is nothing but his mind playing tricks on him? How can he tell?
Kind of helps you understand how mentally ill people can end up doing such extreme things, the boundaries between reality and fantasy can be so devastatingly blurred.
Sam wants to go home. No matter how much he's bonded with the people in 1973, Annie especially, his desire to go home has always been his strongest motivator. Even when his sense of 1973 team spirit was at its strongest we saw him choosing to stay at home in his pokey little bed-sit awaiting messages from the Great Beyond rather than go out with his friends, with Annie. Here, when it seems confirmed beyond all doubt that his life here is nothing but a fantasy, that desire to go home intensifies exponentially. Convinced now all over again that these people are not real, he is willing to do anything, whatever it takes, to aid his recovery – complete the operation – and get himself home at last.
But then when his hopes are crushed and he comes to believe that he was wrong all along, that he's been mentally ill and hallucinating all along, his sense of loyalty to these people resurfaces. If they are real people after all, then his actions have consequences far beyond his own needs and desires, and that changes everything.
Conflicted much? At this point the episode is just beyond excellent, with the boundaries between perceptions of truth and fantasy so utterly, utterly blurred.
The specifics of the case, as usual, are totally secondary to what's going on in Sam's mind, and thus relatively simple. Gene is trying to foil a big wages heist in his usual ham-handed fashion and Sam, despairing of his superior's methods more than ever due to his own circumstances, is trying to foil Gene's sting, believing that officers are being placed in unnecessary danger and that Gene has finally gone too far.
Who is right and who is wrong? Is Frank Morgan a surgeon in 2006 trying to save Sam's life by cutting a tumour out of his brain? Is Frank Morgan a DCI at C Division in Hyde, conducting an undercover operation against an incompetent colleague in another department? Is the 1973 Frank Morgan a figment of Sam's imagination, his mind playing tricks on him? Is Sam an undercover officer suffering from amnesia and hallucinations, or is he a comatose patient lying in hospital in 2006 and experiencing unusually vivid dreams?
The beauty of this show is that Sam genuinely Does Not Know the answer to any of those questions, and thus neither does the audience, not for sure, whatever either party might think they know. John Simm never ceases to amaze me with his acting of Sam's utter confusion and desolation and moments of joy.
It all comes to a dramatic climax when Sam and Morgan's joint operation against Gene and his team turns out to be what betrays them, resulting in a terrifying shoot-out. Morgan lets Sam down by not providing the backup he'd promised, and the pull of loyalty to the colleagues he's been working alongside for so long leaves Sam more uncertain than ever. One by one he watches them fall, although they all manage to escape any truly serious injuries, which could be very telling. But it's enough for Sam, watching, to be drawn into the light…
And wake up in hospital. On Hyde Ward, his room number the same as that telephone number that's been haunting him, with his mother at his side and Doctor Frank Morgan telling him his surgery was a success, even though the tumour wasn't actually removed. It was benign, the pressure was relieved; he is going to be just fine.
There is no surgical scar and no shaving of the head to indicate that any kind of surgery has taken place. That could also be very telling. Because Sam wakes up, and he gets on with his life in 2006, and it's what he has always wanted, and yet… It's unsatisfying.
"You know you're alive because you can feel."
Has Sam really woken up, or is this just another hallucination? Is it a 2006 coma hallucination or a 1973 waking hallucination? If 1973 felt so real to him, more real, even, than his supposedly real life, how does he tell? This is the dilemma now facing him – the solution he so desperately sought has resolved nothing, only presented him with a whole new swathe of questions. Especially when he realises that he's been able to cut his hand open without even noticing. Didn't feel a thing.
"And you know when you're dead because you can't feel anything."
So that's where the twist in the tail comes in. Sam comes to a decision, goes up onto the roof, and jumps off, just as he wanted to in the very first episode to wake himself up, and the music is gorgeous, and Sam looks happy, and the screen goes blank, and maybe it all should have ended there. Except…
I'm not sure what kind of message the ending really sends to the viewing public. Sam jumps off the roof, and wakes up right back in 1973, exactly where he left off, just in time to save the day, be reconciled with his colleagues, and finally make a move on Annie. And they all live happily every after.
Or do they? Because ultimately it is a very, very enigmatic ending for a very, very enigmatic show, and I think I could watch it 50 times and come up with new interpretations every time.
It all comes down to definitions and meanings and which reality is perceived to be the 'right' one.
If Sam genuinely did wake up from his coma, only to decide that he preferred his 1973 fantasy and jump off a roof so he could go back to it, leaving behind the friends and relatives who'd been so devoted to him during his long illness...well, that's kind of a bleak life message to be sending, really. Deeply unsatisfying – pick your own reality, and if you don't like the one you're in, commit suicide to get to another. But is that what happened?
Maybe Sam really was insane in 1973, and hallucinated waking up in 2006 as a result of being in such a stressful situation. Unlikely, perhaps, but if we're picking our own realities, why not?
"Every day I wake up, and I tell myself 'I'm alive'."
Or maybe he's still in the same coma that he's always been in, and never did wake up, only believed he had, possibly due to the surgery he was apparently undergoing. Jumping off the roof to get back to 1973 could be interpreted as rallying, deciding to live, even if in a comatose dream world. It's a world that feels completely real to him, populated by people he has grown to care about – as good a reality to choose as any.
So…for all its flaws, 1973 life is infinitely preferable to modern life, is that the message we're supposed to take away?
Doesn't seem terribly positive to me, and that, I think, is why I find the ending of this fabulous show unsatisfying. The ambiguity of it all works so wonderfully on so many levels, really hits home emotionally, and is entirely consistent with how utterly enigmatic the show has always been – but on closer scrutiny it also leaves a lot of 'huh?' and not in good ways.
Overall? Fabulous episode and a fabulous show, but the ending leaves me unsatisfied.