TV shows

Becoming human through rebellion: September’s character development

I wrote this article for a Fringe fanzine but since I don’t know when the zine will be published or if this piece made the cut AND we’re allowed to share our articles on our own sites anyway, I’m posting it here. I’ll update this post with a link to the zine if/when it’s published. Here’s a look at September’s development over four years of the show. Spoilers for season 4.

“Disobedience, in the eyes of anyone who has read history, is man’s original virtue. It is through disobedience and rebellion that progress has been made.” – Oscar Wilde

Walter violated laws of the universe when he crossed over to save Peter. David Robert Jones crossed ethical lines with his real-world-as-a-laboratory experiments. Nina Sharp withheld information that could have helped the fringe division. Altlivia deceived everyone on our side.

But the character whose prohibited actions have had the most impact is September. He broke the rules when he visited Walternate in 1985 and distracted him from curing Peter. September’s interruption set off a string of events (and alternate events) that have unfolded over the past four years on Fringe. September’s initial interference led to continued disobedience of the Observers and ended in season four with him siding with the humans.

But he didn’t switch sides over night. Let’s take a look at September’s development.

The Observer: When we first meet September, he seems exactly like all the other Observers. He dresses like them and speaks like them. Most of the time, he stays in the background, simply watching.

The Interrupter: September wanted to witness the moment when Walternate cured Peter, but he accidentally distracted Walternate. When Walternate failed to cure Peter, September had to interfere to save Walter and Peter from drowning in Reiden Lake. Peter was safe, but he was in the wrong universe. Even worse, Walter’s crossing upset the balance between the universes. All because of September.

The Sympathizer: Again and again, September shows up to help Olivia, Walter, and Peter. September isn’t supposed to make contact with present-time humans, but he keeps disobeying the Observers’ rules. At the end of season two, September appears to Olivia and, as a warning, leaves her a picture of Peter activating the Machine. In season three, September prepares Walter to sacrifice Peter (so that later Peter can bridge the universes and heal both worlds). The bridge doesn’t completely erase Peter from the timeline, though, and instead of finishing the job, September’s lack of action allows Peter to re-enter the timeline. September cares what happens to Olivia, Walter, and Peter, so he warns them about future events, prepares them for what’s coming, and deflects the other Observers’ attempts to reset the timeline. Which finally leads us to…

The Rebel: At the end of season 4, September explains to Walter that the Observers are going to invade Earth in 2015. This is September’s final act of disobedience: warning the fringe team about the coming invasion and in doing so, giving them time to prepare a defense.

September’s disobedience puts him back in touch with emotions—the essence of being human. His rebellion allows for progress, but not in favor of the Observers. Instead, September’s actions allow him to help the fringe team. We don’t know the primary reason for September’s disobedience, but fan theories suggest that he is the young boy in “Inner Child” (season 1, episode 15). If that’s true, maybe September is returning the favor: the fringe team helped him, so he helps them. Perhaps we’ll have a definite answer in season 5.

Are Fringe and Community breaking the fourth wall?

This is how Wikipedia defines the “fourth wall”:

The fourth wall is the imaginary “wall” at the front of the stage in a traditional three-walled box set in a proscenium theatre, through which the audience sees the action in the world of the play. […] Speaking directly to or otherwise acknowledging the audience through the camera in a film or television program, or through this imaginary wall in a play, is referred to as “breaking the fourth wall” and is considered a technique of metafiction, as it deconstructs the boundaries normally set up by works of fiction. [source]

I noticed something related, but slightly different, going on in the Fringe and Community finales. Spoilers for both after the cut.


First Fringe. In “Brave New World Part 2,” Olivia and Jessica talk while Peter hooks up wires and checks monitors in preparation for interrogating Jessica. The show breaks for commercial and when it comes back, Peter says they’re all set to go and the interrogation starts. Time passes in the lab while the audience watches commercials.

Community. In “Introduction to Finality,” Greendale has a court trial to decide a business matter between Shirley and Pierce. Dean Pelton acts as judge and when he calls for a recess, the show goes to commercial. Then it comes back and the trial continues. The commercial break doubles as the court recess for the characters.

Both of these examples show an awareness for television format. Most shows have scenes built to fit between commercial breaks, but these are the first episodes I noticed where the characters’ actions and dialogue trigger commercial breaks.

24 did stuff like this all the time because of the real-time nature of the show, but Fringe and Community don’t have to follow the same sort of timing restraints.

I’m not sure if these examples count as breaking the fourth wall since they don’t address the audience. Instead, the writers and editors are acknowledging the medium and creating a connection between the fictional and real worlds. That’s what makes me think about the fourth wall concept, but I wonder if there’s another term for this.

Sherlock: Post Reichenbach Fall

It’s been only a few hours since I’ve seen the Sherlock finale, but here’s the theory I’ve pieced together. It isn’t solid, but I think it’s plausible. Spoilers after the cut.

First, the facts:

  • Irene Adler successfully faked her death and Sherlock helped her fake her death a second time in “A Scandal in Belgravia.” She said something like records are only as good as you keep them. Sherlock knows that too.
  • The man who kidnapped the ambassador’s children looked like Sherlock, similar enough that the girl screamed when she saw Sherlock in the hospital. Moriarty set up the look-alike.
  • Mycroft said they’ve been keeping an eye on Moriarty.
  • Molly offered to help Sherlock and he meets her in the lab at night. Moriarty meets Sherlock on the rooftop and it’s daytime. That means Sherlock had all night to plan the details of how he’d fake his death.

On to the Maybes and What-ifs:

  • Sherlock did go to Mycroft for help and asked him to track down the look-alike kidnapper.
  • Sherlock asked Molly to help him fake his death and they worked on the plan during the night.
  • Sherlock was telling the truth: he’s on the side of angels but he isn’t one of them. He is not a hero. What if Sherlock threatened the look-alike the same way Moriarty threatened Sherlock? “Sacrifice yourself or else I’ll kill all the people you care about.” Sherlock forced the look-alike to jump off the roof.

The phone conversation with John is a bit tricky. I do believe that’s the real Sherlock talking to John, but I don’t think Sherlock is standing on that rooftop. The man standing on the rooftop looking down at John is the look-alike. From the roof to the ground, there’s no switching people, no mid-air saves, and no one could survive that fall. So the man who jumps and dies cannot be the real Sherlock.

Here’s the thing: the camera doesn’t lie, but editing can. I think the real Sherlock is standing on another rooftop nearby, safely watching and in clear view of the look-alike. Sherlock ordered the look-alike to imitate his movements, so the look-alike holds the phone as if he’s talking to John and he reaches out his arm as if he’s the real Sherlock.

The scene is edited together to make us think that the real Sherlock is talking and looking at John at the same time, but that isn’t what’s happening. The look-alike is looking at John but Sherlock is talking to John.

Then the look-alike jumps to his death. The man on the bicycle (someone from the Homeless Network?) bumps into John and knocks him down. That was part of the plan: make John watch the fall, knock him down, and disorient him. Hope that he’s too upset to look too closely at the body. Too disoriented to notice it isn’t quite Sherlock.

Edited to add: Sherlock says to John, “Keep your eyes fixed on me.” Sherlock wanted John to watch the look-alike so that John wouldn’t look around and spot the real Sherlock. And it fits with what Molly noticed: Sherlock shows his sadness only when he thinks John can’t see him. Sherlock must have been sad to fake his death without telling John and sad that he has to leave Baker Street, and he couldn’t let John see him.

Does everything a spider can

For several weeks in July, August, and September, I watched every episode of Spider-Man, the animated series that was on FOX from 1994 to 1997. I had seen most of the episodes growing up, but seeing them again now, I realize how much this cartoon series respected children as an audience.

I see respect for the audience in several aspects of the show:

1. Complex characters. Peter Parker is consistently an intelligent and flawed character. We see how smart he is in figuring how to defeat villains, and when he makes mistakes it’s because his  arrogance, carelessness, or anger. Everything Peter does makes sense, though. His actions are logical reactions to what happens to him and around him. The villains are relatively flat compared to Peter, but even they have logical motivations. Doc Ock needs resources for his research. The Green Goblin sabotages the King Pin’s work so that Norman Osbourne can keep a clean reputation.

2. Multiple story lines at the same time. Episodes often contain one problem for Peter Parker and one for Spider-Man. Besides those, we see plot developments with Mary Jane, Harry, and Aunt May.

3. Multi-episode stories. Spider-Man often carried a story over several episodes. Recaps at the beginning of every episode probably helped children follow along, but even so, children had to pay close attention to make sense of the larger story. Characters and other elements from early seasons came back in the final season of the show. That’s a lot of detail to ask children to remember.

4. Crossovers. I’m impressed with the number of Marvel characters Spider-Man features. I started keeping track after I realized crossovers were a recurring theme. The X-Men, Punisher, Daredevil, Iron Man, War Machine, Captain America, Blade, Red Skull, and Fantastic Four all teamed up with or fought against Spider-Man in the series.

Spider-Man respected its child audience by offering entertaining, complex stories. The banter and action scenes so typical of superhero cartoons are there, but so are deeply emotional scenes, like when Peter loses Mary Jane. The creators of the series must have felt that children could follow and enjoy these stories. Or else, why would they bother writing such developed plots and characters?

I feel like today’s creators of children’s television have much lower expectations for their audience. Children today are lucky to watch characters who behave rationally, let alone see complicated and satisfying story lines.

Venom to his Spiderman

Since Netflix added Spider-Man, the animated series (1994-1998), to instant streaming, I’ve been watching season 1 and remembering what a great show it was.

“The Alien Costume” is a three-part story in the middle of season one. The symbiote comes to Earth with a space shuttle and attaches to Spider-Man. Peter fights it off, and it takes over Eddie Brock to become Venom. This story is the animated version of everything Spider-Man 3 should have been. But I don’t want to talk about the film’s emo Peter Parker.

I want to talk about how Venom is a reflection of Spider-Man and why that makes him such an interesting villain.

I’m going off the animated series here (which I expect is close to the original story in the comics). Venom knows everything about Spider-Man and Peter Parker because the symbiote tried to bond with Peter first. This gives Venom a few advantages.

1. Venom can block Spider-Man’s spidey sense. Venom is the only thing that can sneak up on Peter, and we see how jumpy and paranoid Peter feels because of that.

2. Venom has Peter’s memories, so he knows Mary Jane Watson and Aunt May.

3. Venom has all the same powers as Spider-Man, except he’s stronger.

Venom matches and beats Spider-Man in strength and ability. He plays mind games. He threatens to expose Spider-Man and hurt his loved ones. Venom is dangerous because he knows how to fight Peter Parker and Spider-Man. He can attack both identities.

This idea of a villain who is a reflection of the hero reminded me of “Amy’s Choice,” a series 5 episode of Doctor Who. The Dream Lord is a mocking version of the Doctor (Time Lord) that comes from the Doctor’s mind. He hates the Doctor, he taunts Amy, and he puts Amy, Rory, and the Doctor in a cruel test of distinguishing dreams from reality.

But there’s an important difference between the Dream Lord and Venom. Venom is a reflection of Spider-Man, but a separate entity. The Dream Lord is part the Doctor, the dark thoughts about issues the Doctor doesn’t want to face. Venom’s threat is in being able to match Spider-Man. The Dream Lord’s threat is in the Doctor torturing himself.

These types of villains are compelling because they aren’t simply evil: they’re evil that comes from the hero. That complexity shows a flawed side of the hero, and that’s good storytelling.

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