Books The Wheel of Time Reading The Wheel of Time: A Prediction About A Memory of Light Sylas speculates about how the series may end… By Sylas K Barrett | Published on April 28, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share It feels a little silly to write an entire essay speculating on the outcome of a book series that was finished almost eleven years ago, but since such analysis and contemplation is exactly what Reading The Wheel of Time is all about, I felt compelled this week to take a brief pause from my usual chapter recap format to address a very important theme that has been building over the entire series, one which seems to be coming to a crescendo as I get closer to the end of The Gathering Storm. And the question is: What will the Last Battle actually look like, and what is the Dark One’s true plan? Robert Jordan said in interviews that the initial idea for The Wheel of Time came from a desire to write about how disorienting and painful and difficult it would be to suddenly be told that you are the Chosen One savior of the world. The series has remained true to that study, as Jordan built a broad fantasy world full of complex characters, and many deep and complex themes. We have seen not only Rand but also all the young protagonists begin their journey with a relatively simple, innocent perspective and then be forced to very quickly grow accustomed to a world that presents them with moral dilemmas in shades of gray, complicated and imperfect choices, and demands that they take on responsibility at accelerated rates, all in the service of a world that is on the brink of being devoured by Evil. As I read these books now, many years after they were published, I am constantly struck by how relatable these themes are. It’s easy to see the echoes of Robert Jordan’s own trauma from being a soldier in the Vietnam War with the way Rand’s experiences are written, but the concept of being a young person who suddenly feels like the weight of the world has been placed squarely on their shoulders will resonate with every generation, in one way or another. In particular, I think a lot about the generation behind mine, young adults who grew up facing unprecedented climate change and a world driven by rapid technological advance, not to mention the social change that came with it. The world they live in is very different from the world young Robert Jordan lived in, and yet, I feel they might be able to relate just as strongly to the way the protagonists of The Wheel of Time have been forced to grow up so quickly, and to take on leadership roles that none of the adults around them, even the wise and experienced ones, seem to be able or willing to tackle. I’ve written other pieces about how I, in particular, relate to Rand’s mistaken (or as my therapist would call it, maladaptive) belief that he needs to cut himself off from his emotions in order to be able to “do what must be done” to win the Last Battle. This began when he tried to suppress his own fear, sadness, and pain; continued when he attempted to kill his sense of emotion and care for others; and finally came to a conclusion when Rand decided that even anger, however righteous, cannot be a factor in his actions or decisions. That only through emotionless logic can he make the sacrifices required to ready himself to win the Last Battle and save the world from annihilation. I could go on at length, and have, about the mistake Rand is making with his thoughts about what it means to be strong, and how emotions exist to give us information and guide us in our decision making. But in the past I have mostly dissected this theme on a very personal level, and what I haven’t touched on is the point that Min made to Nynaeve after they witnessed the destruction of Natrin’s Barrow: the fact that the Dark One’s plan may very well revolve around driving Rand exactly to this state. The threat of Rand becoming cold and “hard,” and of losing his human emotions has been pointed out by several characters, including Cadsuane. It’s not just the personal cost to him that has Cadsuane concerned; she worries that Rand may defeat the Dark One only to become nearly as great of a danger to the world. Min makes a similar point while she and Nynaeve are discussing the justification Rand gave for using balefire on Semirhage’s hideaway. “This might be what he has to be. The Last Battle is nearly upon us, Min. The Last Battle! Can we dare send a man to fight the Dark One who won’t sacrifice for what needs to be done?”Min shook her head. “Dare we send him as he is, with that look in his eyes? Nynaeve, he’s stopped caring. Nothing matters to him anymore but defeating the Dark One.” Min’s comment started a thought percolating in my brain, a thought that fully took form during Verin’s conversation with Ewgene in chapter 39. Verin tells Egwene that while the Chosen’s motivations are obvious and their actions predictable, the Dark One is anything but. In fact, even after all the years Verin spent studying the Dark, she is still uncertain what the Dark One wants, or why. There is one thing she is certain of, however, which is that: “[…] this battle isn’t being fought the way that al’Thor assumes it will be.” When I read that, I immediately thought about how much time Ba’alzamon devoted to trying to convert Rand to the Dark, and how it was a huge part of Ishamael’s mission for the first three books. And then I thought about how many members of the Forsaken wanted to kill Rand, and how the Dark One eventually forbade it entirely. When the decree to “let the Lord of Chaos rule” came down, I assumed the intention was to sow discord between Rand and his allies, destabilizing the world as much as possible and distracting those on the side of the Light from the activities of Darkfriends by putting everyone’s focus on the danger of the Dragon, an unfettered wielder of saidin, and then to kill him when the time was right and the Dark was fully prepared to strike. And the first part of that strategy is exactly what happened, but I am wondering now if the rest of my assumption is correct. I imagined that the Dark One wanted to hold back on sending anyone to kill Rand because Rand kept defeating his lieutenants, so the Dark One wanted to marshal his resources more effectively before coming after Rand. Or perhaps because he wanted to kill Rand himself, in the prophesied confrontation at Shayol Ghul. Now, however, I’m wondering if the Dark One actually wants Rand dead at all. Perhaps he doesn’t. Perhaps he actually needs Rand alive. Rand didn’t prove susceptible to any of Ba’alzamon’s lies or coercive tactics, so perhaps the Dark needed a different way to turn him to its side. By inundating Rand with misery, pain, and despair until he could no longer function, by increasing his fear and paranoia and sense of isolation by creating scenarios where he felt betrayed or endangered by those who should be his allies, the Dark could make him more susceptible to its influence. After all, once Rand has stripped himself of all the qualities of humanity: emotion, empathy, connection, the ability to actually live his life. What separates him from the Dark One, other than a sense of scale? Rand wanting to defeat the Dark One and the Dark One wanting to defeat Rand doesn’t make them opposites, it makes them the same. Motivation is what makes them different, and the difference in that motivation is shrinking, I think. Rand still wants to save the world, but it has become an abstract concept to him, less tangible than the goal of defeating the Dark One. Less tangible than the goal of living long enough to face the Dark One. Rand has suffered immense pain and loss; he feels as though he is entirely alone in the world. He feels like there isn’t anyone he can be himself with, especially now that Semirhage’s attack has put a distance between him and Min. Given all this, it isn’t hard to imagine Rand reaching a point where he doesn’t actually care about the world at all. If he reached such a point, is it possible he could even reach a point where he actively hated it, and wanted it destroyed? I have observed several times that Egwene’s journey, which parallels Rand’s in many ways, is a more positive one because she has been able to hold onto the feelings and emotions that drive her motivations. Egwene fights out of love; Rand fights because fate told him he was the only one who could. Egwene uses her compassion to motivate her strength, especially when she experiences grief; Rand suppresses his compassion because he believes that grief will overwhelm and destroy him. Egwene finds philosophical meaning in her trials and suffering; Rand sees his as proof that no one in the world can be trusted. If Rand wanted to destroy the world, destroy the Pattern, I think that it is possible that he could do it. After all, he still has access to the male Choedan Kal, which Lanfear believed could make one powerful enough to destroy the Dark One, and possibly even the Creator. Granted, she was speaking of using the male and female Choedan Kal together, but the world can’t fight back the way extra-dimensional beings can, and the Pattern is already under strain. It’s vulnerable enough that one Choedan Kal, wielded by a channeler as powerful as the Dragon Reborn, might be enough. And if it isn’t, there’s always the “True Power,” which has a devastating effect on reality whenever it is used. If Rand reached for that, fully embraced it, there’s no real telling where it could lead. And so I find myself wondering that if the Last Battle is actually a ruse. Not that I don’t think it won’t be fought—prophecy says it will be, and all the skill sets of our Emond’s Field quintet are clearly aimed at leading that fight. I’m just saying that maybe Tarmon Gai’don is not the main fight. Perhaps it exists to be the looming threat that drives the Dragon Reborn into fear and desperation, into the very darkness that Rand has found himself in after being collared by Semirhage. If Rand either despaired enough to turn to the Dark or to wish to destroy the Pattern himself, the Dark One would get exactly what he wants. We know his ability to touch the world is growing, but it is also still limited. Perhaps he cannot break free by himself. Perhaps it is only through the manipulation of human beings that he can succeed. After all, without Darkfriends he would have very little contact with human minds even with the patch on the Bore degrading. Darkfriends recruit other Darkfriends. The Chosen come to Shayol Ghul to swear to him and put themselves in his power. The Dark One didn’t even create Shadowspawn—that was Aginor. The only thing the Dark One has done directly as the patch weakens and the seals begin to degrade is affect the threads of the Pattern, altering the weather and creating disturbances with bubbles of evil and shifting locations. He’s touching the Pattern, but he’s not touching people. Not as long as even part of the patch holds. Herid Fel seemed to believe that Rand will have to break all the seals in order to remake the Dark One’s prison, but the Dark One may also need him to break them before he can make his true assault on the world. Even though the patch Lews Therin and the Hundred Companions made was imperfect, it is still effective in many ways. I’m also thinking of the vision Min saw over Rand’s head, of Dragonmount shrouded in darkness except for one pinprick of light. Dragonmount is a monument to Lews Therin’s pain, his failure to seal the Bore safely and the consequences that arose from the tainting of saidin. What better visual representation could there be of the darkness and despair that Rand, the same soul in a new consciousness, is feeling now, as he carries the weight of those consequences and the weight of Lews Therin himself in his mind? The last book in the series is called A Memory of Light, and we know from Sanderson’s Foreword in The Gathering Storm that this was Jordan’s title. I believe that the memory of Light is going to be a moment of confrontation, in which Rand either chooses to despair and destroy the world, or to remember Light, to remember happiness and love and life, and to find his way back to himself. That he will remember, as Egwene remembered in chapter 38 of The Gathering Storm, that life is “more complicated than a single cause. Life [is] about living. About dreaming, laughing and dancing.” Since The Gathering Storm, Towers of Midnight, and A Memory of Light can be thought of as three volumes of the same book, this important moment could come at any time between now and the last page of the series, but with the way the last few chapters have gone, I can imagine the confrontation is coming very soon, perhaps even by the end of The Gathering Storm. Which is why I wanted to pause and muse on Rand’s journey. To be clear, when I say that Egwene has done a better job than Rand at handling her relationship to her emotions, that isn’t a judgment on Rand. He has done the best he could throughout this incredibly difficult journey—Egwene herself observes how his imprisonment was even worse than hers, and his support much less—and far better than many in that position would. I mean, the nearest parallel to him is Ishamael/Moridin and look how broken that guy is. Rather, I am pointing out that Rand’s true journey is learning to have a healthy perspective from the very unique vantage point at which he stands. He must learn how to see the good that balances out the bad, the joy and pleasure that makes life worth living, the love that makes the dark moments worth enduring. I think perhaps the Dark One’s true power is robbing people of that perspective, whether it be through whispers in the dark, or threats, or torture, or tainting saidin. And the Last Battle is important, but the True Battle, for Rand, and really, for everyone who walks in the Light, is not letting that poison in. It’s how we know Verin was a Darkfriend in function and deed, but not in soul. She never stopped loving the world, and she never stopped loving life. We can’t say that about the Forsaken. And right now, we can’t say that about Rand, either. But hopefully, we soon will. As long as Rand can find a memory of Light.[end-mark] The post Reading The Wheel of Time: A Prediction About <i>A Memory of Light</i> appeared first on Reactor.

News The Authority James Gunn Confirms The Authority Movie Won’t Be Entering the DC Universe Anytime Soon According to James Gunn, the morally ambiguous superheroes didn’t have the best script By Vanessa Armstrong | Published on April 27, 2026 Photo: DC Comics Comment 0 Share New Share Photo: DC Comics James Gunn confirmed on Threads today (per Variety) that The Authority film—one of the ten projects he and Peter Safran announced when they first took over the DC Universe—isn’t currently in development. “The script wasn’t quite there but more importantly it didn’t work in terms of the larger DCU both in terms of the story and practical concerns. Maybe some day. Not soon,” he wrote. Gunn had previously described the movie adaptation as “one of my real passion projects.” In the comics, The Authority are a morally complex group of superpowered individuals who, as Gunn explained back in January 2023 when the ten projects were announced, are “basically good-intentioned, but they think that the world is completely broken and the only way to fix it is to take things into their own hands. Whether that means killing people, destroying heads of state, changing governments […] whatever they want to do to make the world better….” María Gabriela de Faría played one member of The Authority, The Engineer, in 2025’s Superman. Other characters include The Doctor, Swift, Midnighter, and Jack Hawksmoor. We don’t know what storyline DC Studios was tackling. Whatever it was, that story has gone back on the shelf, at least for the near future. Other films announced as part of those ten DCU projects, however, are almost here. We’ve already got Superman, of course, and Supergirl is set to premiere in theaters on June 26. Lanterns is heading our way soon, as well as the Clayface horror flick, which wasn’t even on Gunn and Safran’s first ten. Plenty of comics content to keep us chugging along, though The Authority will be missed. [end-mark] The post James Gunn Confirms <i>The Authority</i> Movie Won’t Be Entering the DC Universe Anytime Soon appeared first on Reactor.

Movies & TV Mother Mary Mother Mary Might Just Be the Experience You’re Waiting For Is… is this what it feels like to be the invisible default? By Emmet Asher-Perrin | Published on April 27, 2026 Credit: A24 Comment 0 Share New Share Credit: A24 Filmmaker David Lowery made a lot of audiences very happy with The Green Knight, to put it mildly. While the writer/director has other projects in the pipeline—and many more before his second A24 project put him on a very specific kind of map, as it were—few seemed poised to fill that same niche for audiences until Mother Mary appeared on the horizon.  Are there similarities? Certainly. A dreamlike quality to the story itself, dialogue seeded with metaphors that birth the film’s imagery, intimate exchanges, and rarely more than two characters speaking to one another on screen at a time. But Mother Mary offers something that might feel far more precious to over half the population of the world: The chance to exist in a place where the thoughts and opinions of men are never once entertained, centered, or even acknowledged. Irony abounds, perhaps—it is written and directed by a man, as we know—but there is a weight of psychological relief existing within the frames of this film that is hard to express if you’re not accustomed to being on the other side of the equation. You rarely see a man on screen at any point in Mother Mary. You never hear a man’s voice, never have to reckon with the weight of their opinions or bend to a concept of “womanhood” that doesn’t fit the body you occupy. The story is this: Mother Mary (Anne Hathaway) is a pop superstar of the highest calibre, but she’s having a crisis of personhood. Preparing for her next tour, she finds that the dress that has been designed for her doesn’t fit. She slips away from her entourage, producers, and handlers to find Sam Anselm (Michaela Coel)—a fashion designer and dear old friend(?) that she had a terrible falling out with. She begs Sam to make her a dress—but in order to get it, the two must rehash what went wrong in their relationship, and eventually find that they are haunted by the same red specter. While a great deal of work went into making Mother Mary a viable pop star within the realm of the film—the creative team talked endlessly of who they drew inspiration from, citing Taylor Swift (in 10-15 years), Beyoncé, and songs written by Jack Antonoff, Charli XCX, and FKA Twigs for Anne Hathaway to wail and sigh—I would argue that too much focus has been placed on that feat due to the massive amount of work that went into its creation. (It’s also a little strange that Gaga didn’t come up more frequently, as our very own Mother Monster, particularly given the inherent queerness of… everything in the film.) Mother Mary’s stardom is the backdrop on which the narrative flows, but it never once feels like the point of this tale. Having said that, it’s wildly impressive to create an entire pop star oeuvre for a narrative and have that persona largely do the work of set dressing? A feat unto itself, certainly. The places in the film where Mother Mary’s rise and fall come into focus tell a story that any fan can likely relate to—the way art often acts as a form of spiritual and religious experience, and what might happen to the people who embody that part. The name wasn’t chosen at random, after all: It’s an invocation, and the parts of Mother Mary’s act that we witness go through all of the greatest hits of that experience in high definition. We’ve got revelation, catharsis, renewal, ascension, sacrifice, deification, suffering—I could go on. There’s a hyper awareness around the fact that the uber act of pop stardom is a machine full of artists, using their bodies, their voices, their sweat and struggle, all for one person to get all the credit: A great deal of humanity loves auteur theory for reason. We cleave to the idea of one magnificent creature to raise above all others, their “vision” and personal genius shining a bright light in the dark. But outside of the trappings and halos and stadiums of fans, we are watching two women who are still reeling from the loss of each other. The script is wonderfully vague on the actual events that occurred in their past because specificity isn’t needed, but their desire is. We get to watch them toy with each other—though Sam arguably maintains control throughout, as the more wronged party who has been waiting for a chance to find the closure she deserves. The ghost that the two of them perceive may not be a true ghost in any traditional sense. She—because the specter is a she, they both agree on that—is created of Sam’s sorrow and abandonment, and the imagery around her formation is striking. Is she born of rage and loneliness? Is she the miscarriage of their dead relationship? Yes. Probably. Who knows. The film is replete with divine feminine imagery that never gives way to its usual “opposite.” As though the creative team had absolutely no care to ask whether that could be overdone, everywhere you look is another vaginal wound, clitoral folds of fabric with a pearl at the center, menstrual blood, fingering various parts of the body, wombs descending from the heavens. Moments that could feel phallic in nature are deliberately altered to that end: When they perform a seance, Sam uses her artist tools as symbolic objects to aid them—she dubs her needle as the sword to protect them. Penetration (and there is lots of that) never occurs with a phallic object of any kind. As far as this reality shows us, queer sex might be the only kind that exists. While I’m sure that someone out there is dismayed over the fact that no one kisses in the film, that there’s no outright declaration of sapphic romantic intent, it is impossible for this movie not to be queer, to be about women loving women, and hating women, and being unable to live without women, because—as I mentioned—men do not exist in this space. Is… is this what it feels like to be the default? Even as a nonbinary human, I have never felt more centered and actualized while sitting in a movie theater—this is a world in which girlhood and women’s art and the power of female and afab relationships is the only thing that ever mattered. A world where all girls do seances (look, they do). A world where losing those connections, platonic and romantic and everywhere in between, can destroy fundamental pieces of us (they do). It was an utterly alien experience to be immersed in a film that understood as much and had no interest in highlighting anything else. And I say this not to discount the incredible work being done by women and gender-nonconforming creators where men are present and important to the story—but it’s agonizingly rare for art not to spend so much time and focus and space (in the margins or not) dissecting the constant stress created by living under patriarchy and within its systems. We need a break now and then. The psychological relief is nothing to be sneered at. There are a couple of places where the pacing slips up a little, and there are real-world aspects to their relationship that the film is not interested in touching on, and I’m sure I could find more to criticize if I really wanted to—but I don’t. Mother Mary and Sam Anselm are beatific in every frame regardless of how they are feeling—tears spilling forward in shed emotion, hopeful and mischievous, sincere or putting on a show for one another. Their clothing choices, every design selection, is just right. We get to watch two impeccable performers egg each other on for hours, trying to one-up the intensity every step of the way. Coel is a hypnotizing force, who can make even the most abstracted dialogue sing. If you’re one of those people who gets up in arms about Hathaway’s earnestness and theater kid energy, I invite you (sincerely) to get over it.  Kneel at the altar of Mother Mary, and enjoy.[end-mark] The post <i>Mother Mary</i> Might Just Be the Experience You’re Waiting For appeared first on Reactor.

News Spider-Noir Nicolas Cage Gets in Some Sticky Situations in the Spider-Noir Trailer(s) Spider-noir, spider-noir / does whatever a spider’s for By Molly Templeton | Published on April 27, 2026 Image: Prime Video Comment 0 Share New Share Image: Prime Video So far, Spider-Noir seems like a case of “be careful what you wish for.” The idea of Nicolas Cage doing the live-action version of his character from Into the Spider-Verse seemed fun, right? But the previously released teasers and new trailers seem … less fun. The music and editing insist that we’re having a grand, slightly wink-nudgy noir time, but the reality is somewhat less inspired. There’s no spark, no chemistry, just a handful of good actors whose actions all seem disconnected. Even Brendan Gleeson feels a little out of place. Still, it is kinda nifty that they’re releasing the show both in sleek and noir-appropriate black-and-white—dubbed “authentic”—and also “true hue full color.” And it certainly won’t lack conflict; Prime Video released a whole separate video introducing the show’s villains, which include Silvermane (Gleeson), Sandman (Jack Huston), Tombstone (Abraham Popoola), and Megawatt (Andrew Lewis Caldwell). The series also stars Lamorne Morris, Li Jun Li, and Karen Rodriguez. Prime’s brief synopsis says: Spider-Noir tells the story of Ben Reilly (Nicolas Cage), a seasoned, down on his luck private investigator in 1930s New York, who is forced to grapple with his past life, following a deeply personal tragedy, as the city’s one and only superhero. The co-showrunners are Oren Uziel (The Lost City) and Steve Lightfoot (The Punisher), and its producers include Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse producers Phil Lord, Christopher Miller, and Amy Pascal. Speaking to Deadline recently, Miller emphasized that Spider-Noir stands alone, and is not part of a “giant web of interconnected series,” calling it “just its own little jewel of a story.” Spider-Noir airs on MGM+’s linear channel on May 25, then lands on Prime Video on May 27.[end-mark] The post Nicolas Cage Gets in Some Sticky Situations in the <i>Spider-Noir</i> Trailer(s) appeared first on Reactor.

Column Babylon 5 Rewatch Babylon 5 Rewatch: “In the Kingdom of the Blind” Mollari starts to suspect that all is not right on Centauri Prime, and Byron argues for a telepath homeworld. By Keith R.A. DeCandido | Published on April 27, 2026 Credit: Warner Bros. Television Comment 0 Share New Share Credit: Warner Bros. Television “In the Kingdom of the Blind”Written by J. Michael StaczynskiDirected by David J. EagleSeason 5, Episode 9Production episode 509Original air date: March 18, 1998 It was the dawn of the third age… Garibaldi brings a report from the Rangers to Sheridan and Delenn: cargo ships are being destroyed. These aren’t raiders, as they aren’t actually taking the cargo—they’re just showing up and blowing the ships to hell. There’s no evidence, no survivors, no pattern. But all the cargo ships being targeted belong to the IA. Mollari and G’Kar arrive on Centauri Prime. Minister Vitari assumes G’Kar is entertainment, and maybe he should be in chains, just in case? Mollari tartly states that G’Kar is his bodyguard, and no, that’s not a joke. Everyone is pretty nonplussed. On B5 in downbelow, Byron and Alexander gather all the rogue telepaths on B5 and inform them of what Byron learned when he and Alexander made mad passionate nookie-nookie: human telepaths were created by the Vorlons. Alexander points out that they can’t exactly get justice from the Vorlons for creating a slave race because the Vorlons are very very gone. Byron, however, wants the IA to give them a homeworld. On Centauri Prime, Mollari has a late-night drink with an old friend, Lord Jano, who informs him that the Regent has been in seclusion for ages. There are several bits of information that are being re-classified as for the Regent’s eyes only. And when the Regent himself has appeared, he’s been absent-minded and drunk. That last surprises Mollari, as the Regent has always been a teetotaler. While Jano and other members of the Centaurum and the aristocracy have been forbidden from seeing the Regent, Mollari might have better luck. They promise to meet in the morning. Credit: Warner Bros. Television Jano returns to his quarters to find the lights not working—and the Regent sitting in his chair. The Regent is rambling, saying that none of this is his idea right before an unseen assailant throws Jano into the wall. On B5, Sheridan and Delenn conclude a meeting with the IA ambassadors, saying that a security report will be uploaded to them tonight. Then they exchange a look, knowing that the Rangers’ report on the cargo ships will not go over well and lead to all kinds of cranky accusations and backing-and-forthing and other nonsense. The ambassadors all go their separate ways, but each of them is followed by one of Byron’s telepaths. On Centauri Prime, Mollari and G’Kar show up in the throne room, but neither the Regent nor Jano are there. Mollari sends Vitari to find Jano. While they wait, Minister Vole plays a stupid game with G’Kar, trying to prove that the Narns are all barbarians, but G’Kar declines the invitation by proving himself to be the better person in every possible sense. Vitari returns, horrified—Jano has apparently killed himself. However, Mollari knows Jano too well—he would never commit suicide, he was definitely murdered. On B5, Byron approaches Garibaldi with a request to address the IA council—but he won’t say why. Garibaldi can’t give him the ambassadors’ time if he won’t say what it’s for. Byron then reads Garibaldi’s surface thoughts, and says he has information about the cargo ship attacks, but it’s information he needs to give to everyone at once. Garibaldi then agrees. At the next meeting, after all business is concluded, Sheridan gives Byron the floor. He proceeds to, ahem, divert from his prepared remarks and instead talk about how the telepaths should get a homeworld. He even has Alexander provide handouts. He also says that his people have shadowed the ambassadors and know their secrets. If they don’t get a homeworld, those secrets will be revealed. Credit: Warner Bros. Television Garibaldi is livid, pissed that he allowed himself to trust a telepath. Sheridan says that he sees Byron’s point, and even sympathizes, but he has gone about it in entirely the wrong way. On Centauri Prime, Vitari tells Mollari that the Regent will see him. As Mollari and G’Kar head toward the Regent’s quarters, they see that they’re being followed. G’Kar remonstrates with the pursuers, but a door comes down to separate Mollari from G’Kar. Mollari is then confronted by Vole, who states that Mollari is in the way of his ambitions and throws a knife at his chest. However, the knife stops in midair before it can hit Mollari, turns, and flies back into Vole’s chest. Mollari sees a red-eyed figure hiding in the shadows, but then the door opens to reveal that G’Kar has successfully remonstrated with the would-be assassins. Turning back, the mysterious figure is gone. On B5, while the telepaths are trying to stay hidden, some Drazi find one and start beating the shit out of him. Byron urges his people not to respond with more violence, but one telepath refuses and gathers some folks to remonstrate with the Drazi. (No one could be bothered to name this guy, but I’m really not interested in calling him “the telepath agitator” or whatever, so since he’s in opposition to Byron, I’m going to name him “Southey,” after the Poet Laureate of England that the poet Lord Byron made fun of repeatedly, notably in the satirical poem “The Vision of Judgment.”) Byron is saddened by this. He urges his people to gather food and go into lockdown. Southey doesn’t like this idea—he thinks they should go and fight. But Byron argues that tensions are running too high right now. The delay of their being in lockdown will allow calmer heads to prevail. Southey disagrees and shows off the weapons they took off the Drazi. Byron sighs and tells folks to do as they will. Allan visits Sheridan on Lochley’s behalf. Sheridan predicts what she told him to say: that it was a mistake to grant protection to Byron’s people. Sheridan reluctantly agrees and tells Allan that the protection is rescinded. On Centauri Prime, Mollari confronts Vitari, who insists he knew nothing about the assassination attempt, he was told that that was where the Regent was. After being sufficiently intimidated by both Mollari and G’Kar, he runs off to find the Regent. Then Mollari is beckoned into the throne room by the Regent. He’s even more incoherent than he was with Jano. He knows about Vole’s attempt on Mollari’s life, and says that “they” saved him because “they” like him. The Regent refuses Mollari’s implorations to explain what the fuck is going on, saying he should enjoy life while he can. The Regent assures Mollari that they’ll speak once more before the end. Oh, and he also says that “they” don’t want him to look into any weird shipping anomalies or anything like that. Credit: Warner Bros. Television After Mollari leaves—telling G’Kar that he still has no idea what’s going on—a tentacle starts to strangle the Regent, but he insists he told Mollari nothing. Meanwhile, Mollari wants to return to B5. Since he was a child, the royal court has always been like home to him, but no longer. He also wonders what Centauri ships are being used for. We then cut to a Centauri ship blowing up a Brakiri convoy. Allan has crews trying to cut through the bulkheads that Byron’s people are locked behind. He also tries to appeal to Alexander directly over the PA, to no avail. Get the hell out of our galaxy! Sheridan has buyer’s remorse for his granting of asylum to Byron’s people. Never work with your ex. Lochley doesn’t appear in the episode, but she does send Allan to give Sheridan an I-told-you-so. The household god of frustration. Garibaldi has buyer’s remorse over letting Byron speak before the council. If you value your lives, be somewhere else. Delenn pointedly reminds Sheridan that President Luchenko said the same thing to Sheridan about his civil war that Sheridan himself is saying now about Byron and his people. Sheridan grumbles to Garibaldi that he hates it when his wife is right… In the glorious days of the Centauri Republic… All is not well on Centauri Prime, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to get any better. Though it take a thousand years, we will be free. When G’Kar shows up by Mollari’s side, the nobles assume that he’s there as entertainment. Vole later presents G’Kar with the guard who lashed him at Cartagia’s behest and hands him a whip. After swearing in front of all these witnesses that there will be no consequences to whatever action he takes next, Vole asks what he’ll do. G’Kar hands the whip back, saying he doesn’t blame the tool for what the wielder of the tool did. This disappoints Vole, as he was hoping for proof of Narn barbarity and instead exposes his own. The Corps is mother, the Corps is father. Southey sees the response of the IA to their request as the start of them being treated by the IA the same way the Psi Corps does, and he won’t stand for it. The Shadowy Vorlons. Byron’s opprobrium is directed at the Vorlons, and understandably so, but holding the IA’s feet to the fire for the Vorlons’ actions is more than a little misplaced… Looking ahead. The events on Centauri Prime are very obviously setting up the future we saw in the “War Without End” two-parter. Mollari and Virini’s final conversation predicted in this episode will occur in “Movements of Fire and Shadow.” No sex, please, we’re EarthForce. Byron and Alexander are now officially a couple, and Alexander pledges her loyalty to Byron. One suspects this will end badly for both of them… Credit: Warner Bros. Television Welcome aboard. We get three new Centauri nobles in this one: Ian Oglivy as Jano, Francis X. McCarthy as Vole, and Neil Hunt as Vitari. Plus we’ve got Damian London, back from “Epiphanies” as the Regent, finally given the name Virini. London will return in “Movements of Fire and Shadow.” On the station side of things, Robin Atkin Downes is back from “Secrets of the Soul” as Byron, while Victor Love makes the first of two appearances as “Southey.” Downes will return next time in “A Tragedy of Telepaths,” while Love will be back in “Phoenix Rising.” Trivial matters. This episode was written to take place immediately after “Secrets of the Soul,” as Byron refers to its events as happening the previous day. The rejiggering of airdates due to TNT’s showing March Madness college basketball games meant that “Day of the Dead” got inserted between them. It’s not stated outright, but it’s likely that the assassination attempt on Mollari in “Strange Relations” was masterminded by Vole. G’Kar was whipped on Cartagia’s order in “The Summoning.” The Regent took over the throne and also was given his keeper in “Epiphanies.” The Vorlons and Shadows buggered off beyond the rim without leaving a forwarding address in “Into the Fire.” President Luchenko rebuked Sheridan for his methods in “Rising Star.” The echoes of all of our conversations. “Narns are barbarians—primitives! Turn your back on them for a second, they’ll stick a knife in it!” “A Narn would never stab a Centauri in the back. It has always been our tradition to go for the chest—that way you can see the life go out of their eyes as they fall.” —Vole being racist and G’Kar being pedantic. Credit: Warner Bros. Television The name of the place is Babylon 5. “I think we are well beyond pastels now.” One of my favorite TV series is the 1976 BBC miniseries adaptation of Robert Graves’ I, Claudius (which actually adapted two of Graves’ novels about the Roman Empire, the other being Claudius the God). It also would appear to be one of J. Michael Straczynski’s favorites. The Centauri Republic has always had a very Roman Empire vibe to it, and that went from vibe to active tribute with the Emperor Cartagia arc at the top of season four. I absolutely adored the Centauri half of this episode because it reminded me favorably of I, Claudius. David J. Eagle gave the whole thing a claustrophobic feel, the sort of crowded emptiness that the BBC miniseries cultivated (mostly due to budgetary constraints, but they made it work). They even went so far as to cast an I, Claudius alum, Ian Oglivy (who played Drusus) as Lord Dano. Damian London deserves a ton of credit here, as he plays the Regent’s resigned madness beautifully. London has gone from exposition vehicle to comic relief to tragic figure, and has excelled at every turn the scripts have given him. So, of course, do the always-reliable Peter Jurasik and Andreas Katsulas. The latter in particular shines in the scene where Vole tries and spectacularly fails to get G’Kar to prove he’s a barbarian. Would that the station half of the episode could live up to its other half, but alas, we’re stuck with the tremendous drag effect of Robin Atkin Downes and his never-changing facial expressions, this time mixed in with his complete lack of charisma as he blandly gives the council his ultimatum. We’ve had some great scenes in the council chamber on this show, from the hearing about Jha’dur in “Deathwalker” to Mollari’s declaration of the terms of the Narn surrender in “The Long, Twilight Struggle” to Sheridan manipulating the League of Non-Aligned Worlds in “Rumors, Bargains, and Lies.” This scene, sadly, can’t live up to those others, squished flat as they are by Downes’ uninspired line readings. Of course, we see in this episode what we got hints of in “Secrets of the Soul,” to wit, Byron isn’t much of a leader. A few words from “Southey,” and he loses control of them completely, making you wonder how he managed to get them all together in the first place. Indeed, I’ve wondered that since we first met him… Next week: “A Tragedy of Telepaths.”[end-mark] The post <i>Babylon 5</i> Rewatch: “In the Kingdom of the Blind” appeared first on Reactor.