| Not-So-Loony Fangirl |
[20120206|11:13]
Mad Scientess Jane Expat
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We've now watched the entirety of Series 2 of Fringe. It has become clear to me that Olivia Dunham/Peter Bishop is the new Dana Scully/Fox Mulder (from the X-Files). The writers are never, ever going to let us have all those meaningful glances and all that ill-concealed desire develop into a full-fledged romance. They gave us a kiss in the very last episode of Series 2 - and then promptly placed them in opposite universes. Not the other side of the country. Or the globe. Opposite universes. If that's what a kiss costs, then a shag will probably result in death for one or both parties.
I'm pretty fed up with this unrequited nonsense. Olivia and Peter had an opportunity for a quickie before dashing off to join Walter and William and their mini-particle accelerator, dammit. I get that it's a driving force for the story line, but there's something maddeningly Puritanical about allowing a couple of adult, sexually active characters to witness death, destruction and madness together, to learn how intellectually and emotionally compatible they are, to have them go to enormous lengths to rescue one another, and to let them clearly fall in love...but not actually let them *gasp* have sex. And it's not the only thing that frustrated me about this series. There's been so much focus on the magnificently dysfunctional Peter (young white dude)/Olivia (young white woman)/Walter (aging white dude) relationship that the characters who attracted me to the series in the first place - Nina Sharp (older woman), Philip Broyles (POC), Astrid Farnsworth (POC) - have been effectively sidelined. Or killed (Charlie Francis).
I'll watch the next series. I like that Charlie's still alive on the Other Side. I enjoy the alien otherness of the Observers. I'll hope for more Sharp/Broyles/Farnsworth. I would like to see a few more squidgy tentacle monster battle episodes before the whole thing devolves into endless pining and sulkitude, though. |
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