[7.8/10] I don’t know how I feel about Erica, the terminally ill wife of the summit negotiator who Elizabeth is playing nurse to. On the one hand, it seems like she only exists to give cryptic but subtle advice to Elizabeth, statements that act as misdirected instructions or life lessons, but which are oblique enough that it’s not as corny as having the character just announce how she feels to Elizabeth. On the other, there’s an honesty there, a way in which Elizabeth is seeing an alternate version of herself in the same way that Philip did with William.
The import of her words seems pretty clear here. She says, partly to Elizabeth, partly to no one, that she thought her art, her work, would be her legacy, something to outlive her and, in a more artistic way, make a difference, but now she just wishes she’d spent more time with her husband doing anything really.
It’s not tough to draw a line between that and a subtle critique of Elizabeth (on behalf of the show, not Erica, obviously). Elizabeth is someone who has been preternaturally devoted to her work, who soldiers on because she believes it’s in service of a greater good that will help protect and maybe even save the world. In a season where death, the prospect of Elizabeth’s death in particular, seems to be lurking behind every frame, there’s the sense in this scene that she’s devoted herself to the cause at the expense of the thing that would truly make her happy, the thing that will truly matter to her if she were to be on her deathbed -- her relationship with Philip.
But we learn in “Mr. and Mrs. Teacup” (a delightful name for an episode, by the way), that the Jenningses are even more divided than we thought. This season has conveyed the fact that the formerly thick as thieves husband and wives are living almost entirely separate lives now for a while, but we learn of a new line of demarcation that feels a little craven, if undeniably practical.
In brief, this episode suggests that they have essentially divided up the supervising of the kids. Elizabeth directs Paige’s life, and Philip directs Henry’s. It’s kind of bizarre, even if you can see this type of “deal” being the closest thing to a workable compromise the two might be able to come up with when they’re at such philosophically different points about their children. One of my first thoughts in the season opener, when we saw Paige ensconced in spy operations, was “How would Philip not throw his body in front of an oncoming train to prevent this?” Apparently it’s a trade-off, that Paige is subject to the same things that wrecked him if he can spare Henry from it.
It makes Elizabeth angry when she feels like Philip is overstepping his bounds in questioning Paige about what she knows about the general’s death. He’s worried that her life is at stake, and Elizabeth just sees it as undermining her authority and the development of Paige as a good spy. At the same time, Elizabeth seems almost unbothered about how Henry’s taking the prospect of not being able to return to St. Edwards next fall. She tells Philip that’s his department, and it’s hard to tell whether she just doesn't care, whether she’d be just as glad if her son doesn't continue in a snooty boarding school, whether she’s earnestly trying to be deferential to Philip given their deal, or most likely, some combination of the three.
Philip is definitely having a hard time with it though. The show captures the awkwardness and pain in his conversation with Henry where he admits that possibility. It’s something weighing on Philip when he hangs out with Stan, or pores over his accounts ledgers. I’ll admit, I still find the whole money trouble angle implausible, but I at least like what they’re doing with it here.
Just as Erica is a quiet indictment of Elizabeth’s life right now, this situation is a quiet indictment of how 1980s “American” Philip has become. There’s a lot of thematic material in this episode that Philip wanted to grow, to get bigger, to be greedy in a way. He wants the American dream and part of that is reaching for the brass ring, not being satisfied with a steady income from a small regional travel agency but wanting to expand and conquer and get bigger. Now he’s over his skis with finances, and as the flashback reminds us, has lost his humility from when he was just another poor kid who had to subsist on frozen pot scrapings. He has lost his roots, and it’s put him in this impossible (for some reason) situation where he has to worry about paying the bills.
I guess he can’t just ask the KGB to cover his loan, or to have Elizabeth do the same now that he’s out? Still, it might not be the right time to have Elizabeth intercede on his behalf, given how her ops go in this episode. The early part of the episode sees her trying to sneak into a facility to get the sensor that was mentioned in the last episode, but it all goes wrong when the alarm goes off and the police start showing up. To be honest, most of the sequence was too dark to make out, but two things become clear: (1.) Elizabeth has to kill more people, which means she’s taken a life in every episode so far this season, and (2.) as she admits to Paige (who stays with the plan despite hearing gunshots, which gives her mother pride) she wasn’t able to get the sensor in all the tumult.
That failure is duplicated at the end of the episode. She manages to figure out which jacket Glenn is going to wear to the World Series watch party, and slip in a bug. But she decides that’s not enough, and talks Erica into joining the festivities, so that Elizabeth can act as a nurse and monitor the situation. Unfortunately, Erica gets sick at the party, which not only prevents Elizabeth from being able to skulk around and gather information, but which takes Glenn away as well before the bug can pick up anything useful.
It’s another sign that Elizabeth is overextending herself, trying to do too much, and facing an increasingly uphill climb, regardless of how important the summit is. In another one of those loaded lines of dialogue, Erica tells Elizabeth (in the context of a drawing lesson) to start with the dark and work her way toward the light. It’s a little too cute as dialogue goes, but in a season that’s been foreboding from the beginning, it gives us the slightest bit of hope, that however rough things are going for Elizabeth, both in her own life and in her relationship with Philip, maybe she’s internalizing all of this at some level, processing it in ways she can’t understand, that may point her somewhere else, somewhere better, in the back half of the season.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParentSpoilers2019-08-04T06:34:58Z
[7.8/10] I don’t know how I feel about Erica, the terminally ill wife of the summit negotiator who Elizabeth is playing nurse to. On the one hand, it seems like she only exists to give cryptic but subtle advice to Elizabeth, statements that act as misdirected instructions or life lessons, but which are oblique enough that it’s not as corny as having the character just announce how she feels to Elizabeth. On the other, there’s an honesty there, a way in which Elizabeth is seeing an alternate version of herself in the same way that Philip did with William.
The import of her words seems pretty clear here. She says, partly to Elizabeth, partly to no one, that she thought her art, her work, would be her legacy, something to outlive her and, in a more artistic way, make a difference, but now she just wishes she’d spent more time with her husband doing anything really.
It’s not tough to draw a line between that and a subtle critique of Elizabeth (on behalf of the show, not Erica, obviously). Elizabeth is someone who has been preternaturally devoted to her work, who soldiers on because she believes it’s in service of a greater good that will help protect and maybe even save the world. In a season where death, the prospect of Elizabeth’s death in particular, seems to be lurking behind every frame, there’s the sense in this scene that she’s devoted herself to the cause at the expense of the thing that would truly make her happy, the thing that will truly matter to her if she were to be on her deathbed -- her relationship with Philip.
But we learn in “Mr. and Mrs. Teacup” (a delightful name for an episode, by the way), that the Jenningses are even more divided than we thought. This season has conveyed the fact that the formerly thick as thieves husband and wives are living almost entirely separate lives now for a while, but we learn of a new line of demarcation that feels a little craven, if undeniably practical.
In brief, this episode suggests that they have essentially divided up the supervising of the kids. Elizabeth directs Paige’s life, and Philip directs Henry’s. It’s kind of bizarre, even if you can see this type of “deal” being the closest thing to a workable compromise the two might be able to come up with when they’re at such philosophically different points about their children. One of my first thoughts in the season opener, when we saw Paige ensconced in spy operations, was “How would Philip not throw his body in front of an oncoming train to prevent this?” Apparently it’s a trade-off, that Paige is subject to the same things that wrecked him if he can spare Henry from it.
It makes Elizabeth angry when she feels like Philip is overstepping his bounds in questioning Paige about what she knows about the general’s death. He’s worried that her life is at stake, and Elizabeth just sees it as undermining her authority and the development of Paige as a good spy. At the same time, Elizabeth seems almost unbothered about how Henry’s taking the prospect of not being able to return to St. Edwards next fall. She tells Philip that’s his department, and it’s hard to tell whether she just doesn't care, whether she’d be just as glad if her son doesn't continue in a snooty boarding school, whether she’s earnestly trying to be deferential to Philip given their deal, or most likely, some combination of the three.
Philip is definitely having a hard time with it though. The show captures the awkwardness and pain in his conversation with Henry where he admits that possibility. It’s something weighing on Philip when he hangs out with Stan, or pores over his accounts ledgers. I’ll admit, I still find the whole money trouble angle implausible, but I at least like what they’re doing with it here.
Just as Erica is a quiet indictment of Elizabeth’s life right now, this situation is a quiet indictment of how 1980s “American” Philip has become. There’s a lot of thematic material in this episode that Philip wanted to grow, to get bigger, to be greedy in a way. He wants the American dream and part of that is reaching for the brass ring, not being satisfied with a steady income from a small regional travel agency but wanting to expand and conquer and get bigger. Now he’s over his skis with finances, and as the flashback reminds us, has lost his humility from when he was just another poor kid who had to subsist on frozen pot scrapings. He has lost his roots, and it’s put him in this impossible (for some reason) situation where he has to worry about paying the bills.
I guess he can’t just ask the KGB to cover his loan, or to have Elizabeth do the same now that he’s out? Still, it might not be the right time to have Elizabeth intercede on his behalf, given how her ops go in this episode. The early part of the episode sees her trying to sneak into a facility to get the sensor that was mentioned in the last episode, but it all goes wrong when the alarm goes off and the police start showing up. To be honest, most of the sequence was too dark to make out, but two things become clear: (1.) Elizabeth has to kill more people, which means she’s taken a life in every episode so far this season, and (2.) as she admits to Paige (who stays with the plan despite hearing gunshots, which gives her mother pride) she wasn’t able to get the sensor in all the tumult.
That failure is duplicated at the end of the episode. She manages to figure out which jacket Glenn is going to wear to the World Series watch party, and slip in a bug. But she decides that’s not enough, and talks Erica into joining the festivities, so that Elizabeth can act as a nurse and monitor the situation. Unfortunately, Erica gets sick at the party, which not only prevents Elizabeth from being able to skulk around and gather information, but which takes Glenn away as well before the bug can pick up anything useful.
It’s another sign that Elizabeth is overextending herself, trying to do too much, and facing an increasingly uphill climb, regardless of how important the summit is. In another one of those loaded lines of dialogue, Erica tells Elizabeth (in the context of a drawing lesson) to start with the dark and work her way toward the light. It’s a little too cute as dialogue goes, but in a season that’s been foreboding from the beginning, it gives us the slightest bit of hope, that however rough things are going for Elizabeth, both in her own life and in her relationship with Philip, maybe she’s internalizing all of this at some level, processing it in ways she can’t understand, that may point her somewhere else, somewhere better, in the back half of the season.