Heroes: Acceptance

By TrinityVixen

What was the point of this episode? I mean, besides the fabulosity of Swoosie Kurtz and Christine Rose pursing their lips at each other over wine and the murders of their respective children? What, exactly, went anywhere? What was done?

Volume Five, Chapter 3 – “Acceptance”

Not a whole lot of anything is what. The Company is AWOL while Mr. Bennet’s having his pity-party, so apparently Tracy, who murdered a mess of the Super Gitmo Action Squad guys, can just waltz back into very public life. It’s great to see Governor Tron again, but as with most Niki/Jessica/Tracy plotlines, this one is D.O.A. Tracy’s effectiveness as a lobbyist (or whatever her job was) seems to have faded in the Governor’s memory. That talent is unable to compete in his head with her other more sensual, less resume-printable skills. She wants Change! He wants T & A. It gets worse when he makes overtures about her using said anatomical gifts to smooth the way with rivals. So she stopped being his mistress and is now his whore. Greeeaaaaat.

In short, Tracy decides to make a stab at her old life, has her hopes and dreams for better things dashed to pieces by her lecherous ex, and abandons it. Also, she’s so emotionally distraught about not being able to be a political hack that she’s losing control of her ability. Nothing new there.

If this show wanted to point out how lost in the woods Tracy is, that’s their right. But leaving her literally treading her own water by episode’s end is highly unsatisfying. Look at Mr. Bennet. He spends the entire episode sad-sacking with Claire and yet ends up easing back into his old Company way of life. Which, if I remember correctly, is what he was supposed to be doing this Volume. Why does he keep saying he’s left it behind? He said he’d do it! Whatever, he was agin’ it and now he’s for it. At least he got somewhere, Tracy.

Peter also backtracks on himself this episode. Discovering the compass tattoo freaks him the hell out and the first person he thinks to take it to is Mr. Bennet. Mr. Bennet awesomely tells him to stuff it, though, of course, since he’s going to go Company again, he’ll probably un-tell-off Peter. My head hurts from all these meaningless course reversals. Peter was on the right track with the “It’s none of my business!” Re: the compass. Now that it’s found him, however, he’s right back in the thick of it.

And it is coming at him from all sides. “Nathan,” having tired of Mama Petrelli trying to front-load him with memories from Nathan’s life, tracks Peter down and confesses about discovering a bunch of different powers every morning. Peter, sweet and stupid as ever, thinks this is awesome. He assumes that “Nathan” has just suddenly discovered that he’s an empath like his brother (and, to some extent, their father, but the less said about the last Volume, the better). Peter has some considerable experience with absorbing abilities, so he has to understand that even if “Nathan” is an empath, he had to have gotten the other abilities from somewhere else. Besides Peter, there have only been two others who’ve had telekinesis. Peter’s mistake is in thinking that they’re both dead.

And that’s where Peter leaves it. He explains that one of “Nathan’s” abilities (psychometrics) would be the reason he’s absorbing memories from all sides. Then Peter totally peaces out, even when “Nathan” says that one of the memories he has involves the death of an old girlfriend. Peter goes from “I’m out” to bothering Mr. Bennet about the tattoo and back to sitting on the sidelines in the first fifteen minutes of this episode.

“Nathan,” understandably non-plussed by this lack of help, picks at this old memory, one from Nathan’s wayward youth involving the attractive daughter of a family friend getting brained on the side of their pool. It should surprise no one that the Petrelli family was covering up their messes long before their abilities made everything exponentially worse. Though the girl’s death was an accident, her mere proximity to Nathan (and to the alcohol both had been consuming) set off the sirens for Mama Petrelli. She cleaned up the mess, erased Nathan’s memory, and disappeared the body. All this is so much more deliciously heartless when you consider that she set up a phony story about the girl running away in order to distract the mother, Mama P’s best friend, Swoosie Kurtz. (I’m sure the character has a name. Ask me if I care.)

“Nathan” upsets all of his mother’s protective measures by going to Swoosie Kurtz’s house to read the memories of poolside objects. Still feeling confessional, despite how far it did not go with Peter, “Nathan” tries to clear the air with Swoosie Kurtz. You can actually see the second that something inside of her snaps in half. She made peace with her daughter hating and abandoning her a long time ago. Now “Nathan” comes in and rips away that measure of sanity, bought with bitterness and a lot of booze over the years. Yeah, girlfriend’s pissed.

This leads us to the best dinner scene since Angela poisoned her husband. Swoosie Kurtz magnificently plays off “Nathan’s” accusations, allowing Angela to think that she doesn’t believe a word of it. It’s a masterstroke of a fake out, full of that acid-laced sweetness that only really rich, really mean women pretending to be friends can manage. While Angela believes she’s diffused the situation and while Swoosie Kurtz assures her that she bears no ill will in anybody’s direction, an assassin drugs “Nathan,” digs a ditch, tosses him into it, and then shoots and buries the body. Polite as anything, Swoosie Kurtz begs a moment’s pardon from Angela to take a call at dinner (it would be rude to just answer it an ignore her dinner date); the assassin confirms that the hit has been carried out, and Swoosie Kurtz keeps smiling at the friend whose son she’s just murdered.

Except, of course, Nathan is already dead, so really she’s already missed her chance for revenge. Or has she? She may have set events in motion to rip Mama Petrelli’s still-beating heart out of her chest–or the brain from her head. When “Nathan” claws his regenerated way up from the alarmingly shallow grave (you just can’t find good help these days!), the physical pretense is gone. Sylar in body (if not necessarily in mind) emerges, covered in dirt and gasping for air. And that’s where we’ll leave him, probably for another period of weeks, given how much of a priority there seems to be on this plot line.

Speaking of low-priority plot lines, Hiro spends what little time he has left before his powers kill him trying to stop an office drone from jumping off a roof. Instead of freezing time, lowering the guy to safety, and talking it out, Hiro decides to jump back to each of dozens of times this guy embarrassed himself so badly he wanted to commit suicide. Eventually, Hiro figures out that he has to talk the guy out of his death wish. Problem solved, and it only took fifty fruitless jumps into the past to do it—all of which speed Hiro’s oncoming death. At least he finally told his sister that he’s dying. Some, but not much progress. (See, Tracy? That’s what progress—kinda—looks like!)

Last, but not least missed, we rejoin the Carnival. There’s family trouble. Lydia seeks out Edgar. Both are a little disillusioned with Samuel recruiting so many new cousins into their fold, but only Edgar is dim enough to voice such sentiments aloud. (It must be the doofy haircut short-circuiting his brain.) Samuel steps out of the shadows to inform them that he’d prefer mutiny to be done to his face. And by the way? He’s still in charge. He invites Lydia to confide in him if there’s problem in a totally convincing, not at all threatening way. Turns out there’s more than one problem: her tattoo shows Mr. Bennet involving himself in the Carnival’s affairs. Samuel, rightly, takes this poorly. He’s smart enough to recognize the danger in running afoul of Mr. B.

Let us hope that Gretchen does not have a similar revelation next week. It might allow Mr. Bennet to step in and take care of her once and for all. As it stands, I’m kind of giddy about Ernie Hudson showing up to the point where the idea of Claire’s lesbian stalker putting the moves on her no longer bothers me. Never underestimate my love for Ernie Hudson.

About TrinityVixen: There’s an asterisk on TrinityVixen’scollege transcript that assures anyone who reads it that, though there is no specific major, degree, or certificate for it, she did, in fact, complete some kind of creative writing program as an undergrad. Armed with that symbol of irrelevant experience, she has polluted the internet with her opinions and horrible fanworks ever since (and for quite a long while before). Living poor in New York until she finds a means to become independently wealthy, she must subsist on the juicy meat of fandom. Fandom and noodles. And instant soup.

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