“Form follows function.” – Ed
I want to like you, Lights Out. I really do. But you make it so hard. Your heart is in the right place, but sometimes you do things that I just don’t understand.
Much like Charlie Sheen, it seems to me that Lights Out is simply trying too hard. It’s certainly ballsy to insert a new character — one that consumes the screen in every scene he’s in — halfway through the inaugural season, just when the show has finally settled into something of a groove. I probably wouldn’t call Eamonn Walker’s performance as Ed Romeo “good” exactly, but you can’t deny its power. His presence is magnified when he shares the screen with Holt. Lights is a decent character (in theory), no doubt. He is supposed to be “the strong silent type,” a good-mannered, good-natured oaf with a secret temper. But since McCallany is so severely limited as an actor, his “strong silent” often manifests itself on screen as weakness spiked with occasional bursts of exaggerated, over the top rage.
Walker has just the opposite problem; he’s giving a strong performance on behalf of a weak character. I mean, think about it — Ed Romeo is kind of ridiculous. Not to mention, he’s is dangerously close to crossing into “magical Negro,” (one of the more obnoxious television tropes) territory. Lights finds him living out in the wilderness in some sort of a barn or log cabin or something, surrounded by young, svelte boys, no other adults in sight. I’m not sayin’, I’m just sayin’. Lights brings him home to the family and within a matter of days Ed is a fixture in the Leary household. He’s shacking up in the guest bedroom. He’s picking up Lights’ kids, giving them semi-creepy life lessons. He’s having deep, semi-creepy conversations over dinner and wine with Theresa (Catherine McCormack). He’s going all Kanye on cameramen.
He’s pushing people close to Lights out of his life — like a controlling girlfriend at the beginning of a relationship — in spite of the effort the show has exerted trying to get us to care about the likes of Pops (Stacy Keach) and Johnny (Pablo Schreiber). He’s breaking down, literally collapsing to knees from emotion, when Light’s breaks up with him. Then there’s that awkward car ride to the gym after the break-up… Yikes, how uncomfortable must that have been. “Soooo, Ed… I was thinking… maybe one last go round, for old times Sake?” “No, it would be too painful? Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Silence. Two sets of eyeballs trained like lasers, straight ahead and through the windshield. Every once and a while they steal a glance in the other’s direction to see if he’s looking back. He never is.
I’m sorry, l got a little carried away. Having spewed all of that criticism, I feel it necessary to qualify all of it by saying that I actually think “Infight” is a pretty compelling episode, all things considered. If nothing else, it’s certainly an improvement over last week’s hour. (I guess that’s why I can’t seem to get completely invested in Lights Out; the week to week inconsistency). By the end of “Infight” I really felt a bit of sadness and empathy for Ed and, for that matter, Lights as well. I didn’t feel anything as strongly as the writers wanted me to, what with all of the sappy “It’s not you, it’s me” good-byes and the “Uncle Ed” nonsense. But, I did feel a twinge of emotion and I guess that’s an accomplishment, albeit a modest one.
More thoughts on “Infight”:
* The way I interpreted the episode, I am assuming that Ed will be gone next week. However, the way the episode ended, with Lights left bleeding after stepping into the Ed/Johnny crossfire, one could make a case that it’s possible for him to have something of a “come to Jesus moment” in the hospital and decide to retain Ed’s services after all.
* I’m no attorney, but there was something fishy about the way Barry served Johnny with that subpoena. As soon as Lights failed to post for the TV interview he pulled out the court paperwork that he just happened to have handy. Wouldn’t Barry have to demonstrate to the court that there is some kind of evidence that he could produce proving that Lights is in breach of contract? And if Barry had that paperwork ready to go prior to Lights missing the interview (and thus violating the contract), he must have had it filed before Lights breached the contract. Would a judge (or whoever is in charge of subpoenas) issue a subpoena just because he or she is told that there is a possibility someone might breach a contract, ya know just in case? I would think not, right?
This review originally appeared on TV Geek Army.