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Due South continuity thoughts
One of the many people on my flist who's just recently gotten hold of DS season three on DVD remarked recently that she was a bit puzzled by the way "Asylum" - an episode vaunted for the increased closeness between Fraser and Kowalski - was immediately followed by "Mountie on the Bounty" - a two-part episode whose B-plot is quite firmly centered around whether or not the Fraser-Kowalski partnership is going to break up.
I just rewatched "Asylum" last night, and I have to say: it makes perfect sense to me. You just have to remember that, like Buffy said, it's about power.
Asylum is a hugely, hugely squee-worthy episode: there's Ray and Volpe patting each other down, there's Ray on his knees screaming Fraser's name, there's Ray making curling references, there's Fraser doing a striptease, there's Ray in a Mountie uniform, there's Fraser talking about why he's in the closet... It's fabulous (and, yes, written with an entirely different Ray in mind*).
But let's look at this from Ray's perspective: Ray starts out the day just trying to do his job, going for a meet with Volpe, and for possibly the first time since his unofficial stakeout in "Eclipse," he's doing it alone - without Fraser's help. Things promptly go horribly wrong, and Ray is forced to run to the Consulate, to Fraser, for help. He is down on his knees, here, and prurient interpretations aside, that is not a place any guy likes to be. Then Fraser puts him in handcuffs. Then Fraser won't let him go get his own files. Then he's left with Turnbull for a babysitter and made to watch curling. When he does form a plan of his own, leaving the Consulate dressed as a Mountie, the failure of that plan is so utterly inevitable and unremarkable that we're not even shown how the gangsters capture him (whereas their capture of Fraser is shown to be carefully planned and executed, designed to specifically exploit his altruistic tendencies) - Ray just appears and is tied up, totally without comment. In short order, Ray is facedown on the floor, on the verge of panic and talking about how he doesn't want to go to jail, while Fraser sits calmly above him, assuring him that the situation is under control. Ultimately it's Dief, basically an extension of Fraser, who rescues them. They hang from the rafters, and while Fraser, not even out of breath, chats comfortably about how he once did this for thirteen hours, under a suspension bridge, while being swiped at by a mountain cat, Ray collapses at the first instant it won't cause total disaster.
So, what does this episode tell us, apart from the fact that Ray is alarmed by the prospect of sexual hijinks in prison? It teaches us that Ray is weak, and that Fraser is strong. And then we get this exchange:
Ray: Hey, I can't wait around for Cahill and his goons to come and arrest me. I got to do something.
Fraser: Do what, Ray? And where? Everyone in this city on both sides of the law is looking for you.
Ray: Well, yeah, that may be, but I gotta do something.
Fraser: Yes, you do. You have to trust me.
And, left without any other choice, Ray does trust him. The next morning - reduced to wearing either Fraser's or Turnbull's clothes - Ray stands quietly among the other pawns while Fraser, great-detective style, reveals the true criminal in their midst. Thatcher helpfully demonstrates that a) even girl Mounties kick more ass than gun-toting Chicagoans, and b) no, Ray does not have supernatural sexual prowess. Still, Fraser has exonerated his partner and friend Ray, um, Vecchio, so the episode ends on an essentially happy note. Right? Of course right.
But if you follow this episode immediately with "Mountie on the Bounty," then you are immediately thrust into a situation where Fraser is again demanding that Ray trust him and do as he's told. Again left without a choice, Ray does trust him, and because this is Fraser's plan, it works out just fine. But Ray has had just about enough of being the junior partner here - as soon as they're on dry land, he's arguing. His plan would have worked just as well. Fraser asks him to trust too far, do things that are too crazy, is too critical of him. Fraser just keeps talking, and Ray pushes the fight out of the realm of the verbal and into the physical, but after Ray throws a punch, Fraser walks away. He's obviously not badly hurt by the blow, but he turns his back to Ray and just walks off, which is its own kind of demonstration of unquestionable supremacy; he won't stoop to fight with Ray. When Ray does talk him into hitting him back, Fraser demonstrates his supremacy again; he very nearly knocks Ray to the ground with a single punch. (NB: this takes place after "Mountie and Soul," when Ray, on what he clearly perceived as his own turf in the world of boxing, goaded Fraser into hitting him, and Fraser, as he did here, took him out with a single blow.)
Ray doesn't want to take the case; Fraser uses the advantage of his not-inconsiderable rhetorical skills to push Ray into doing precisely what he wants. Fraser endangers Ray's life in wildly bizarre ways, and then rescues Ray from the peril Ray would not be in if he did not have an insane partner. Finally, in the submersible, we get this:
Ray: Just admit it, Fraser. We're lost.
Fraser: No, we're not lost.
Ray: Admit it.
Fraser: All right, we're lost.
Ray: Okay. Thank you. . . Go that way.
Fraser: Why?
Ray: I got a feeling. It's a hunch, it's a feeling. Go that way.
Fraser: Yes, but there's absolutely no reason why -
Ray: Look, Fraser, just this once. Just this once. I trust you. Every single time, every single time I got to trust you. Just once you trust me. Go that way.
And Fraser, left without a choice, does.
I don't think that "Mountie on the Bounty" does a particularly good job of resolving the uneven power dynamic that "Asylum" sets up. It does at least bring it out into the open, and is immediately followed by "Dr. Longball" - an episode in which Fraser has to go to Ray for help, and Ray gets to be a hero in front of everyone.
* - The power dynamic in "Asylum," may be in part an artifact of the greater Fraser-centricity of the Vecchio seasons, for which the episode was written. I'm not really in a position to comment coherently on that yet. I will note that Ray's interactions with Dief seen more typical of Vecchio than of Kowalski.
So, yeah. There's my spot of episode-analysis for the year.
I just rewatched "Asylum" last night, and I have to say: it makes perfect sense to me. You just have to remember that, like Buffy said, it's about power.
Asylum is a hugely, hugely squee-worthy episode: there's Ray and Volpe patting each other down, there's Ray on his knees screaming Fraser's name, there's Ray making curling references, there's Fraser doing a striptease, there's Ray in a Mountie uniform, there's Fraser talking about why he's in the closet... It's fabulous (and, yes, written with an entirely different Ray in mind*).
But let's look at this from Ray's perspective: Ray starts out the day just trying to do his job, going for a meet with Volpe, and for possibly the first time since his unofficial stakeout in "Eclipse," he's doing it alone - without Fraser's help. Things promptly go horribly wrong, and Ray is forced to run to the Consulate, to Fraser, for help. He is down on his knees, here, and prurient interpretations aside, that is not a place any guy likes to be. Then Fraser puts him in handcuffs. Then Fraser won't let him go get his own files. Then he's left with Turnbull for a babysitter and made to watch curling. When he does form a plan of his own, leaving the Consulate dressed as a Mountie, the failure of that plan is so utterly inevitable and unremarkable that we're not even shown how the gangsters capture him (whereas their capture of Fraser is shown to be carefully planned and executed, designed to specifically exploit his altruistic tendencies) - Ray just appears and is tied up, totally without comment. In short order, Ray is facedown on the floor, on the verge of panic and talking about how he doesn't want to go to jail, while Fraser sits calmly above him, assuring him that the situation is under control. Ultimately it's Dief, basically an extension of Fraser, who rescues them. They hang from the rafters, and while Fraser, not even out of breath, chats comfortably about how he once did this for thirteen hours, under a suspension bridge, while being swiped at by a mountain cat, Ray collapses at the first instant it won't cause total disaster.
So, what does this episode tell us, apart from the fact that Ray is alarmed by the prospect of sexual hijinks in prison? It teaches us that Ray is weak, and that Fraser is strong. And then we get this exchange:
Ray: Hey, I can't wait around for Cahill and his goons to come and arrest me. I got to do something.
Fraser: Do what, Ray? And where? Everyone in this city on both sides of the law is looking for you.
Ray: Well, yeah, that may be, but I gotta do something.
Fraser: Yes, you do. You have to trust me.
And, left without any other choice, Ray does trust him. The next morning - reduced to wearing either Fraser's or Turnbull's clothes - Ray stands quietly among the other pawns while Fraser, great-detective style, reveals the true criminal in their midst. Thatcher helpfully demonstrates that a) even girl Mounties kick more ass than gun-toting Chicagoans, and b) no, Ray does not have supernatural sexual prowess. Still, Fraser has exonerated his partner and friend Ray, um, Vecchio, so the episode ends on an essentially happy note. Right? Of course right.
But if you follow this episode immediately with "Mountie on the Bounty," then you are immediately thrust into a situation where Fraser is again demanding that Ray trust him and do as he's told. Again left without a choice, Ray does trust him, and because this is Fraser's plan, it works out just fine. But Ray has had just about enough of being the junior partner here - as soon as they're on dry land, he's arguing. His plan would have worked just as well. Fraser asks him to trust too far, do things that are too crazy, is too critical of him. Fraser just keeps talking, and Ray pushes the fight out of the realm of the verbal and into the physical, but after Ray throws a punch, Fraser walks away. He's obviously not badly hurt by the blow, but he turns his back to Ray and just walks off, which is its own kind of demonstration of unquestionable supremacy; he won't stoop to fight with Ray. When Ray does talk him into hitting him back, Fraser demonstrates his supremacy again; he very nearly knocks Ray to the ground with a single punch. (NB: this takes place after "Mountie and Soul," when Ray, on what he clearly perceived as his own turf in the world of boxing, goaded Fraser into hitting him, and Fraser, as he did here, took him out with a single blow.)
Ray doesn't want to take the case; Fraser uses the advantage of his not-inconsiderable rhetorical skills to push Ray into doing precisely what he wants. Fraser endangers Ray's life in wildly bizarre ways, and then rescues Ray from the peril Ray would not be in if he did not have an insane partner. Finally, in the submersible, we get this:
Ray: Just admit it, Fraser. We're lost.
Fraser: No, we're not lost.
Ray: Admit it.
Fraser: All right, we're lost.
Ray: Okay. Thank you. . . Go that way.
Fraser: Why?
Ray: I got a feeling. It's a hunch, it's a feeling. Go that way.
Fraser: Yes, but there's absolutely no reason why -
Ray: Look, Fraser, just this once. Just this once. I trust you. Every single time, every single time I got to trust you. Just once you trust me. Go that way.
And Fraser, left without a choice, does.
I don't think that "Mountie on the Bounty" does a particularly good job of resolving the uneven power dynamic that "Asylum" sets up. It does at least bring it out into the open, and is immediately followed by "Dr. Longball" - an episode in which Fraser has to go to Ray for help, and Ray gets to be a hero in front of everyone.
* - The power dynamic in "Asylum," may be in part an artifact of the greater Fraser-centricity of the Vecchio seasons, for which the episode was written. I'm not really in a position to comment coherently on that yet. I will note that Ray's interactions with Dief seen more typical of Vecchio than of Kowalski.
So, yeah. There's my spot of episode-analysis for the year.