Tag Archives: father jack landry

What the Heaven and Hell!? (V gets religious)

29 Jan

Or, how a show I used to really enjoy has suspended my suspension of disbelief.

I wanted to write this a week ago, but there is no wrath, after all, like an atheist socked in the face with preachy religious messages in the middle of a science fiction program that’s supposed to be about, well, science fiction, and I didn’t want to have a completely incoherent rant splashed all over search engines for the rest of time.  After two-ish years of science fiction blogging, I still have some dignity.  Maybe.

So here goes:

I’ve been reviewing ABC’s alien invasion drama V since it premiered last year.  I was thrilled with the show: Elizabeth Mitchell and Morena Baccarin are both fantastic actresses, and to see them face off in an intergalactic war seemed pretty exciting.  I’ll admit–part of me was trying to fill that LOST-shaped hole in my heart, and FlashForward just wasn’t doing it.  FF had the plot twists, but V had the characters worth caring about.

There’s the FBI agent turned terrorist, the omnicompetent mercenary who can kill soldier aliens with a shovel, the slick tv anchor with access to the mothership,  the turncoat reptiloid traitor, and the Catholic priest who lets them plot and plan their revolution against the Visitors in the basement of his church.  Meanwhile, they banter and make Thorn Birds references.  This season they added that son of Satan from Reaper as the smart-ass scientist, and at last the cast was complete.  It would sound like the premise for a really bizarre sitcom–if the fate of the universe weren’t at stake.

It’s not surprising that the priest, Father Jack Landry, grated on my nerves at first.  He was so dreadfully naive–letting vital information slip to all the wrong people, and biting his fingernails over violence (this is a revolution, buddy).  But he grew on me–mostly because he’s just such a terrible priest.  For God’s sake, there’s a mercenary weapons expert torturing a captive in the middle of the rectory!  Not to mention the whole Jack-Landry-breaks-the-Seal-of-the-Confessional-to-his-own-personal-confessor,-the-FBI-agent thing, which is kind of a bad sin, for a priest.

Simply put, I liked the show–and I defended it against Kate the Lostie, who was all the time pushing me toward Fringe and Minecraft videos.

But I stopped watching halfway through episode 2.2, “Serpent’s Tooth,” and haven’t started up again.  Here’s the thing:

Season One dealt very well with the differences between humans and Visitors.  At that time, it was all about emotion–namely, love (and even more namely, love of a mother for her children).  Reason’s great and all, but love was what worried V Queen Anna most of all.  And in a fantastic season finale twist, Anna herself experienced her first burst of human emotion (rage) when her own children (well, creepy soldier children reptile eggs) were… er… frozen to death by the Fifth Column.

This season, the emphasis has shifted.  In one of the most ridiculous television scenes I have ever had the misfortune of watching:

Apparently, what makes humans human isn’t emotion, empathy, love–it’s The Soul.

“I have human skin, I feel, but I need you to tell me something…” Ryan begs of Father J, “Do I have a soul!”

(Cut scene) “I will isolate it in the medical bay!” Anna exclaims.

(Cut again) “Every creature can feel the grace of God!” Jack tells Ryan.

(And again) “It’s too complex!” cries Diana.

*cue creepy piano music*

Oh, I’ll pick V up again when I can find it on Megavideo, I guess.  But I won’t be so naively happy about it myself, and I don’t know that I’ll ever get that immersion experience that a good story–print or film–can give you if it successfully suspends your disbelief.  If the show continues along this path, viewers have to accept that “humanity” in the world of Anna and Jack is defined in terms of religion.

No, the idea of a soul isn’t very controversial in the United States, but to base an entire science fiction series on it is… jarring (and a lot harder to deny in V than it ever was in the at-times-somewhat-spiritual LOST).  I’m an American Studies major–I’ll learn to look at V the way I do any other historical artifact: as a product of its time and culture.  But who really wants to be a scholar watching tv?

V is for Vengeance (season one wrap-up)

19 May

ABC’s alien invasion drama finished off season one Tuesday night with a surprisingly satisfying finale.  The last scene left us with a major question for next season, to be sure (congratulations V, you outlived FlashForward!), but the major enjoyability factor was definitely the interesting twists the writers put into a number of characters’ fate lines.

Here’s a look at where our favorite terrorists and alien invaders started off, and ended up last night on V.

Ryan Nichols

Ryan’s had a rough relationship with his girlfriend Val.  First she found out ahead of time that he wanted to propose to her, then he decided to wait on it, then she started having weird pregnancy cravings for dead rats, then she found out he was an alien—it hasn’t been easy for the originally-quite-happy couple.  When Val finally found out Ryan had been hiding his reptiloid self for years, she did the completely logical thing and left him.  Only one problem: she was pregnant with a human-alien hybrid baby (which I’m still really confused about—I thought different species couldn’t interbreed?  And the Vs aren’t just homo neandertalensis, they’re friggin extraterrestrials!  Maybe that’s a season two plot point).  So she did the next most logical thing and brought along a V doctor for her pregnancy.

Too bad Anna sent a V soldier after her.  The gang escaped the soldier once before, thanks to Kyle Hobbes’s impressive hatchet-wielding skills, but the start of “Red Sky” saw the soldier healthy as ever and chowing down on a deer in the forest.  Considering that was the first scene of the episode, I had to doublecheck to make sure I hadn’t accidentally stumbled upon Twilight.  Val, whose water had already broken, gets snatched up to the mothership.

Ryan, who manages to get on board strangely easily, finds his girl in the middle of a difficult pregnancy—understandable, considering the circumstances.  But he’s not in the room during the birth itself, and so misses out on Anna killing Val right after the mother gets a good look at her kid and lights up in… fear and horror.  Not quite the parental elation one would expect.  Ryan, aching with grief, believes Anna that she hadn’t killed Val (why does no one remember not to trust anyone?), and finds himself susceptible once more to Anna’s Bliss:

“This is what I was trying to protect you from, human emotion,” she says.  “I’m so sorry you lost her, but now… now you have me.”

So Ryan’s come full circle—he learned how to love from Val and went rogue, but lost her and came back to Anna’s creepy hive mind (“Welcome home,” she tells him, holding his baby—who we never actually see—rather possessively).  Since hindsight is 20-20, we can see some foreshadowing in last week’s episode, when Ryan almost left the Fifth Column because, without Val, he “couldn’t do it anymore.”

And just a random thought: is anyone else getting the feeling that the hybrid baby is going to be some sort of Chosen One?  I’m predicting that Anna’s plan for Tyler and Lisa involved impregnating the Lizard Princess with a hybrid baby, and that makes Val and Ryan’s a rival.

Joshua

Here’s another Visitor-turned-rebel, who’s spent most of the season at Anna’s right hand with Marcus.  We met Joshua back when everyone was still freaking out about Erica’s FBI partner (what was his name?  Dale?) trying to kill them all at George Sutton’s first Fifth Column meeting.  Joshua killed Dale for good, and got a big cheer—he was the first on-ship Visitor to reveal his true (dis)loyalties and earn appreciative applause from a captive audience.

More recently, he’s become the focus of Joshua/Lisa fanfiction, which seemed pretty on the mark in “Red Sky,” when the two beautiful Vs gave each other their last goodbyes from opposite sides of a blue energy forcefield.  Joshua knew he had to sacrifice himself after Chad Decker set up the on-ship Fifthers, and ended up ordering Erica to shoot him in hand-to-hand combat.

Pity it was only a human-made bullet, and easily healed by V medical staff.  Next season, expect to see Joshua with his cover blown (considering that his secret passcode was “John May Lives,” I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did.  Subtle.)—possibly turning back to Anna just like Ryan.  Because just like Anna, Marcus had a cheerful beside manner for the turncoat V: “Welcome back.”

Marcus

Imagine that—Marcus is actually starting to do something other than stand next to Anna looking creepy.  In the final scenes of the finale, Marcus actually got physical with Anna, trying to force her from “initiating the sequence” on a floating computer monitor.  We have no idea what “the sequence” is, but from the roiling red skies that resulted, it’s probably bad.

Marcus also revealed himself last night to have been the man behind Kyle Hobbes’s many contract killings (of course, I thought we already knew that)—and offered the mercenary another job, to infiltrate the Fifth Column.  He seemed to have some sort of leverage over Hobbes, a picture which we didn’t see and which he explained with one word: “Her.”

Kyle Hobbes

I’m thinking a daughter.  Maybe?  In any case, he already is in the Fifth Column, unbeknownst the Marcus and the Vs.  Being a double agent just turns things slightly more complicated.

Although, admittedly, I wasn’t sure Kyle Hobbes’s loyalties could even get more complicated.

Hobbes is a mercenary, but has appeared up until a couple weeks ago to be completely loyal to the Fifth Column.  He’s gotten them illegal weapons, built explosives from the ground up, and tortured other contract killers in the basement of a church with a medieval device called a “heretic’s fork.”  Which could just as easily be a byword for his own double-dealing and difficult choices.  After promising Marcus a hard-drive containing research that could destroy the Vs (reptile-killing algae, to be specific) last week, this week he uses that connection with Anna’s right hand man to get Marcus off the ship in time for Erica to blow up Anna’s babies.  (This was a pretty complicated finale.)  The question that remains is now this: Is Hobbes using his back-alley relationship with the Vs because he’s really loyal to the Fifthers? Is he hedging his bets, playing both sides until he sees who wins? Or does he even know, himself?  He did look pretty shocked when Marcus showed him “her,” after all.  My theory: he’s hanging around in church basements to watch Erica Evans strap guns to her thigh.

But that’s all speculation.

Father Jack Landry

Speaking of church basements, Erica and the gang might not have a place to hang out and plot next season, seeing that Jack’s been thrown out of St. Josephine’s.

I know I’ve been bashing Jack all season for being too naïve, too trusting, and all-around too priestly to be a very useful member of the Fifth Column.  But after “Red Sky,” I’m starting to think that being a priest is just as good as being a terrorist.  Father Jack is kind of awesome.

Tormented all season about whether or not to speak out publicly against the Vs, Jack finally did it with a super intense homily about the Vs as “false prophets.”  Disobeying the orders of the church pastor, who thinks the Vs are messengers of God, Jack stood up on Sunday to a packed crowd and finally challenged the Vs the best way he can—not with surface-to-air missiles, but the Word of God:

“I was lost, and now I am found.  I lost the courage to tell you the truth, that you need to choose who you are going to follow—the Vs, or God?  Because you can’t serve two masters… There is a war upon us, a war for our souls. With love, hope, and faith, we can overcome anything.  Who among you will join me? Let V no longer stand for Visitor, let V stand for Victory!”

By that point, only Erica, Hobbes, and half a dozen other parishioners sat scattered around the pews, but those who were there, stood.  Jack proved that he could do something for the Fifth Column—be its public voice.  As a priest, he had a both a pulpit (literally) and an aura of moral authority.  Though the final scene saw him exiting St. Josephine’s in a sweatsuit, in those vestments, Jack Landry has some influence.  Though he’d been unwittingly feeding Chad Decker information these past weeks, he’s shaping up to be the anti-Decker, the mouthpiece not of Anna, but the opposition.

Chad Decker

Of course, Chad finally realized in the finale what either ambition or naivete had been blinding him to before: Anna’s using him, and she’s definitely not the savior of mankind.

After following Joshua’s hint to check out the creepy V acupuncture rooms—where human Live Aboard Program members (I just realized—the program puts humans right in Anna’s LAP, get it?) get experimented on in their sleep, Chad had his epiphany.  Too bad it was too late to save all the on-ship V Fifthers he’d ratted out along with Joshua.

But Chad was one of the half-dozen parishioners standing in support of Father Jack, so maybe the tide’s about to turn.  In my first post on V, if I recall correctly, I labeled Chad Decker the most powerful man on the planet.  If he’s not with Anna anymore, that’s a pretty good sign—especially if she still thinks she is.

Erica Evans

By the season finale, I might say Erica Evans is the most powerful person on the planet, now, considering how close she is to Anna by way of her son—and just how much Anna (amazingly!) trusts her.

When Anna invited Erica and Tyler up to the mothership for a getting to know you dinner, she told Marcus—“With Agent Evans as my ally on the ground, and my new army, the humans won’t know what hit them.”

Wrong on both counts, Anna.  The V High Commander doesn’t have a more determined enemy.  As much as Anna chatters on about “the very thing that drives humans—love,” she still underestimates just what a mother might do to protect her son.  And Erica’s not above vengeance, either.  Last week, she started on her path to manipulating Lisa away from Anna (which culminated in last night, when Lisa betrayed her mother and her own kind by handing Erica a blue energy grenade to destroy Anna’s soldier babies).  This week, she froze all of Anna’s other reptile spawn.  As she threw the grenade, she made her position pretty damn clear: “Here’s to your children’s future, Anna.”

Ouch.

But after Joshua staged his own murder at Erica’s hand, Agent Evans is now in the perfect place to get to Anna—mother of the princess’s boyfriend, trusted by Anna so much that she gets to carry a gun on board (“Its okay—she’s an ally.”), head of the FBI-Vistor joint taskforce against the Fifth Column, and head of the Fifth Column itself, if Erica can’t stop the Vs, no one can.

Anna

And the humans are going to need that sort of help next season, now that Anna’s “initiated the sequence.”

One of the biggest shocks of the season finale was the total breakdown of the ice cold, always-composed Anna, who practices facial expressions and vocal inflections in the mirror before speaking publicly.  After finding her thousands of baby soldiers frozen (only 12 survived, Marcus told her, and even those might not make it very long), Anna screamed, sobbed, and choked on a horrified question:

Anna: “What’s…happening… to me!?”

Marcus: “I believe you’re experiencing your first human emotion.”

Maybe she and Erica do have something in common after all—the grief and anger of a wronged mother.

Anna’s heartbreak left me gaping, but behind her, Lisa smiled—possibly pleased that the mother who would have her daughter’s legs broken was creeping toward the danger zone on the V empathy test.  Even so, my hope is that emotions weakens her in the face of the Fifth Column, but doesn’t turn her “good”—I think I’d die of the triteness.  Her emotion already did push her near the edge at the end of “Red Sky,” or as Marcus said, she was acting “rashly” and “irrationally.”

Which brings us to “the sequence” and the title of the episode: “Red Sky.”

In her grief, anger, and emotional breakdown, Anna stormed out of her birthing room to one of her ubiquitous floating computer monitor forcefields.  She typed in a code, and revealed an image of the earth surrounded by pulsing red V ships.  And then, the most cryptic conversation on tv since Ilana and Bram kept asking everyone what lies under the shadow of the statue:

Marcus: This is terrible to be sure, but we must not act rashly.

Anna: They must pay!

M: (grabs arm) This is too soon.  If we initiate the sequence now—

A: (grunts and tears arm away/ jabs at computer screen with red illuminated ships around the planet)

M: Do you know what you’ve done?

A: Vengeance.

(Yes, and I’m sure that’s exactly what the script looked like.)

So we can probably assume that the sequence has something to do with the total destruction of humanity, right?  The clouds turning red and rippling across the sky was ominous in the extreme (and rather reminiscent of Independence Day).  But there was pathos there, and I’m ready to find out what happens next not only with the story, but with the characters that make it work.

V 1.03: Killing with Kindness

19 Nov

One of the biggest dangers the humans of ABC’s V might face this season is the cliché.  Alien invasion stories, after all, are nothing new.  Neither is the priest whose own doubts give him trouble handling the problems of his flock.  But three episodes in (and even if three weeks doesn’t quite constitute a hit), V hasn’t gone stale, a necessity in a season when networks are axing new shows that don’t deliver almost faster than they premiere.

Here’s hoping to a long shelf life.

The opening minutes of last Tuesday’s episode, “A Bright New Day,” were possibly the sweetest I’ve seen in the show yet—and no, they don’t involve Erica’s idiot son and his simpering space princess (he annoys me so thoroughly, you might have gathered, that I’m not even bothering to learn his name).

The show opens with Jack (Father Landry, to the faithful) sweating and fidgeting in his confessional as various parishioners file in or out, in torment or rapture, variously.

“Are the Vs demons, or angels?” one woman asks.

“Who am I to question the Pope?” says another man.

In the past few episodes, shifts in who you can trust and who count as authority figures have been major themes—here they are again, notably, in questions posed to a very human man with neither.  And he looks so uncomfortable trapped in that stiff collar and tiny room that we’re left wondering who he can talk to about these questions.

“I want to be able to look them in the eye and tell them God loves them, everything’s going to be fine.  How can I tell them that?  I don’t even know what to tell myself anymore,” he insists.

And here’s where ABC defuses the cliché: Jack’s sentiment might not be original, but most priests don’t ask their advice from FBI agents investigating sleeper cells… of aliens.

So much for prayer.

Erica and Jack’s conversation is particularly touching because, in a world where everyone has two faces (and for some of them, I mean that literally), this bizarre pair trusts each other completely.  Shoot—Erica leaves him alone in her house paging through the FBI database.  National security breach?  Too late for that.

And you have to admit that Erica’s game plan is a lot more practical than saying two Hail Marys and a Glory Be.

“Whatever their plan is,” she says of the Vs, “They need us for something.  And until we find out what that is, we need to fight them the same way they’re fighting us.”

In other words: pretend to play nice.

If there’s anyone I can see going head to head with Anna and winning, it’s Elizabeth Mitchell as Agent Evans.  Even as she assists V security in identifying a death threat against one of their officials, Erica demonstrates the skills she’ll need to build a resistance: brilliant observation, something close to photographic memory, and absolute control over how she allows others to perceive her.  Sound like any particularly conniving alien woman we know?

In the long run, it doesn’t matter that the whole shooter/assassination/death threat thing was a set-up: we already knew the Vs were sneaky, and the would-be rebels knew it as well.  In “A Bright New Day,” it’s the Vs who are out of the loop for once, and the great thing is, they don’t even know it—

By saving Anna’s slimy advisor Marcus, Erica gains his trust, as he assumes she saved him out of the same devotion most humans display.  Painful and seemingly-counterintuitive though this rescue must have been, Erica keeps her head and shakes his hand.

Infiltration doesn’t have to be one-sided.

With the return of David Richmond-Peck as George “it’s Georgie” Sutton (organizer of the ill-fated warehouse meeting in episode one), this becomes even more clear.  While well-meaning Jack (once again) demonstrates his blatant lack of street smarts, Richmond-Peck portrays a sapient homo sapiens who knows how to survive and outlast anyone (and when it comes to his family, tragically, he has).  The team is beginning to shape up.

Though “A Bright New Day” hints that there’s another V in the FBI (I’m guessing Erica’s boss Paul—he’s the one who let the Vs take custody of the “shooter,” after all, and seemingly without a fight), we also meet a traitor in a very high place, the New York Mothership (and I was cheering by the end of that scene, by the way).  Add into the mix the mysterious John May-or-may-not be a myth, and the rebels might just stand a chance.  Or, as the veterans call them: The Fifth Column.

More hope lies in the new knowledge that not all of the Vs are committed to the program of human destruction: Ryan Nichols’s old Fifth Column buddy Cyrus tries to turn him in, but only because of something he speaks of incoherently a “the Bliss.”

“The Bliss?” Ryan scoffs.  “The Bliss is how she controlled us, Cyrus.  Just like junkies, man.  And that’s what you are, you’re nothing but a junkie.  Just like the rest of them.”

Killing with kindness?  Anna’s killing with ecstasy.

But Erica’s “fighting them the same way they’re fighting us” now, remember, and that could make all the difference this time, in what’s shaping up to be the second rebellion.  We don’t know much about the first, but having Georgie Sutton around gives us some useful clues—

After 1.03, his emotionalism in the pilot’s warehouse scene is even more understandable (not that aliens overhead is something not to get upset about): the Vs murdered his wife and kids.  And like we treat most adults ranting about aliens in our own society, Georgie’s community stigmatized him.

“He went a little crazy,” one of his neighbors says, of the murders.  “He said aliens did it.”

Turns out he wasn’t crazy after all, but as Anna teaches us every Tuesday, perception is everything.  He didn’t look credible, however good his information was.

And as good in his role as the impassioned, almost-fanatical, and kind of ruthless survivor (he holds a gun to the head of a priest) as Mitchell is at playing cool-and-composed, Richmond-Peck’s Georgie is as much the counterpart to Erica as is Jack Landry, and just as important to the growing resistance.

Erica and Jack—an FBI agent and a Man of God—are the poster children of model citizenship, but Georgie Sutton and Ryan Nichols know the rules of the game.  And this time, they’re going to play nice.

For now.

V 1.02: What part of ‘don’t trust anyone’ don’t you understand?

12 Nov

ABC’s V sets up a scenario that should be an intergalactic politics nightmare:

Alien spacecraft darken the skies over the globe’s major cities, world governments debate establishing diplomatic ties with the non-human intelligent life, and, as it turns out, the so-called “Visitors” don’t plan to leave any time soon—in fact, they’ve already been here for years (at least).

And yet, we haven’t seen a hint of the president, or any world leader for that matter.  This is definitely a departure from the traditional alien invasion and/or disaster movie, in which a tortured president generally plays a clichéd, but prominent, role.

Personally, I like this model better.

As it stands after episode two, “There Is No Normal Anymore,” the (human) power-brokers on Earth aren’t anything like conventional authority figures.  We have—

FBI Agent Erica Evans: determined, observant, and unbelievably cool under pressure (it’s all that practice lying to Ben Linus, honest), she’s shaping up to be the natural leader of the incipient resistance movement, but has nothing in the way of institutional clout (except what FBI documents she can steal, of course);

Father Jack Landry: a Catholic priest who’s doubtless used to being told the truth (in confession and otherwise), Jack’s noticeably new to the subterfuge game.  Still, he’s not naïve, and in a world where it’s increasingly difficult to trust anyone, being a Man of God can’t hurt;

Chad Decker: Ambitious and slightly amoral, Chad’s psychology seems simple enough for Anna to manipulate—in 1.02, though, the glib news anchor puts an uncharacteristic look of shock on the usually-blank face of the alien High Commander with his unwillingness to act the docile mouthpiece of the Vs.  And with significant influence over public opinion, Chad Decker might be the most powerful man on the planet—God help us.

It’s this motley crew (and a couple V defectors, if they can ever trust each other long enough to get together) standing against an extraterrestrial force with surveillance capabilities that make wiretapping look like child’s play.  Here’s another example of bringing contemporary issues up for discussion in a theoretically non-politicized venue (who ever said science fiction was escapist?).  Modern technology makes an omniscient centralized government closer to science fact than fiction—it just looks a lot more disturbing when set on an alien mothership: because really, if you can’t trust your 9-1-1 dispatcher, who can you trust?

The answer Erica and Jack grapple with throughout the episode is: absolutely no one.  That’s one frightening world to live in—and the worst part is, it’s one we can readily recognize in modern America.  First lesson in primary school isn’t phonics anymore—it’s Stranger Danger.

Even Vs have trust issues—

Ryan Nichols, a “traitor” V who’s set up a comfortable life with a human woman he loves and plans (well, planned) to marry, struggles with the fact that his entire life is based on a lie.  And considering just how big that lie is, it’s unlikely he and Valerie could just kiss and make up if he ever told her.  But with Nichols convinced that he needs to get back into the resistance, he faces the choice of breaking both their hearts or putting Valerie in danger.  Tragic.

The major plot point here, though, might just be V medical technology.  Taking back up the rebel standard, Nichols suffered what a human might be a fatal gash down the arm—for a V, however, ‘tis but a flesh wound.  An potent injection (nanotechnology?) knits up a cut which had revealed his true scaly self up in literally seconds.  Little does Agent Evans know that it’s probably this very technology bringing back her ex-partner Dale up in the mothership, after she’d thought she killed him—with a stake through the heart, no less.

But even first-aid man (really a V) Angelo Russo, drugs Nichols and skedaddles after patching his old rebellion buddy up because, quote, “I’m sorry man.  I can’t trust you—I can’t trust anyone.”

It’s a line echoed throughout the episode by humans too: Jack, Nichols’s fiancé Valerie, Erica’s boss Paul, and Erica herself on multiple occasions.  In one memorable scene, she breaks her composure and shouts viciously at Jack—“What part of don’t trust anyone don’t you understand?”

I only wish the FBI agent would take her own advice. Erica, who’s borderline-paranoid (and who could blame her?) still trusts her son, who’s out daily frolicking with “space girls.”  Earth to Agent Evans: parents should never trust their teenage kids, not even when there aren’t alien invaders in the sky overhead.

Oh, the irony.

But human beings are never fully consistent, and contradictions are what make a complex character—the last thing we want out of Elizabeth Mitchell is a two-dimensional Rebel Leader.  That’s one thing V seems to be doing excellently, even so early in the season: casting and character development.

Morena Baccarin as Anna is an immediate standout.  She’s already mastered the (lack of) expression necessary to convey an identity as some type of reptiloid in utterly foreign human flesh.  With this unearthly schizoid impassivity as a backdrop, even the subtlest change in expression or tone of voice is clear as ice, and generally as chilling.

Too bad she’s evil.

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