Teaming up with a young hacker, the FBI races to take down an app capable of tracking government vehicles. Meanwhile, Jane searches for a balance between maintaining professionalism and wanting human connection. Here is a recap and review of the Blindspot episode “Cede Your Soul.”
Recap:
As airy music swells, Jane entangles with a mystery man and his tree tattoo. Her first dream, and it’s a steamy one. Jane suspects that Borden thinks she dreamt about Weller. Well, she’s the one who mentioned him. Regardless, Borden suggests defining relationship boundaries. Zapata ponders her choices over a wad of cash. Randy’s there to collect, but she twists his arm, literally, to buy an extra day. Mayfair questions Weller’s objectivity after his dinner party, but he denies any unprofessional behavior involving Jane.
A Saudi prince dies in an ambush on his secret service transport. Patterson connects the attack to an app called Trakzer, which tracks government vehicles. The creepy owl logo appears on Jane’s leg, and the code matches a hackathon winner, Ana Montes. When the FBI storms her apartment, she claims to work for Leonard Gail at the NSA. Zapata tries to bond with Ana over their pasts, both angry and alone, but seventeen-year-old girls are tough ones to crack. Jane takes a different approach, asking about the tattoo. Ana’s brother designed the owl to watch over her when he worked nights. After learning Leonard Gail doesn’t exist and Ana’s been conned, Weller demands that she destroy the app. It’s on some else’s server, so she can’t.
Chilling in the stakeout van, Weller scolds Jane for speaking with Ana. Agents must remain emotionally detached. Is that what he’s done with her? He’s working on it. Posing as electrical workers, Zapata and Reade fry the server. Game over. In their wrap up meeting, Weller suggests that whoever tattooed Jane might be helping the government, or at least wants the FBI to think so. Zapata defends Ana’s actions as those of a scared kid using her skills to survive. Doesn’t matter to Reade. Dirty money is dirty money. Saying goodbye, Jane invites Ana to hang out some time. Ana declines. It’s awkward and prompts another lecture from Weller about getting attached. Maybe you do things wrong, Weller. Jane feels completely alone and needs something in her life besides work. Bumping into Weller, Patterson mentions Mayfair’s unresponsiveness to the Saul Guerrero file. He’ll look into it.
Ana’s day slides downhill when scary Russians force her to track a trailer filled with weapons. While FaceTiming her boyfriend, Patterson receives Ana’s SOS. Like usual, the FBI engages in a shootout when they find the bad guys. Dashing through bullets, Jane hops in the van to rescue Ana. Weller saves the day by exploding a grenade in the trailer. Back at the FBI, Ana wonders if they’ve figured out the steganography tattoo. The what? Jane’s shoulder square is actually part black and part off-black. Patterson turns the off-black pixels to white and an image that looks like a tortoise shell emerges. No idea what it means, but this discovery means every tattoo could hold a multitude of clues. Weller asks Jane if she wants a new lead agent with less baggage. Perhaps his baggage makes him the right guy for her case.
Returning home to find his father there again, Weller and Sarah tell him about Jane. His eyes flood with tears. Zapata hands Randy the cash and swears she out. For real. Jane’s security detail declines her invitation for a drink. Watching from across the street is the man with the tree tattoo.
Review:
“Cede Your Soul” stands out because of what it made the audience feel more than what it made the audience think. It followed last week’s precedent by diving into and expanding the emotional struggles that our heroes are working through, while also delivering a strong case in a new and astute fashion. Adding a human touch to the case of the week instead of reducing the threat to a rarely seen face grounded the episode and highlighted what the series does well. This episode can be best described as a potluck of past successes that melded together to create a new gold standard for the series.
When it comes time to write this review section every week, I try to remain objective, not that I succeed, and approach the critique from the perspective of what effectively got the story’s point across and what could have been executed differently. Every journalism professor, and apparently the FBI, drills the importance of objectivity into their students’ heads, along with the importance of not burying the lede, which is exactly what I’m doing here. Getting to the point soon, I promise. I remembered something significant while preparing to write about “Cede Your Soul.” Something I always knew but put aside in an attempt to follow what I’d been taught, and this revelation made one message of the episode strike even deeper.
Television isn’t meant to be watched objectively. No one (or at least no one I’ve met) flips on their TV or presses play on their computer and decides which show to watch based on how good the act three break is or how closely the story follows a basic structure. So why should I consider it more correct to react to an episode based solely on this criteria? It’s certainly worth including because the writers spend a lot of time and effort on these aspects, but it only tells part of the story. Television is meant to make you feel, to make you smile, to make you sad, to make you forget that you’re watching something that a group of writers made up while sitting around in a room doodling on white boards and consuming mass quantities of cupcakes. “Cede Your Soul” steered me through all of the above because I’m unobjective and I love this show. I wouldn’t be writing two thousand words about it every week if I didn’t.
Before you get concerned that I’m going to go all fan-girly from now on, rest at ease, although I’m sure it will crop up every now and again. Usually when the episode ends, I start thinking about the theories, the mysteries, the potential pieces to be revealed. But after this one, I started feeling for these characters in a way I hadn’t before. My reaction is specific to the emotion of this week’s story. Who knows what tangent I’ll go on concerning next week’s episode. But for now, here’s a little piece of my heart.
Weller was frustrating from start to finish. I wanted to yell at him. Then I wanted to hug him. Most of the time within the same scene. As he tried so hard to remain professional around Jane, his eyes burst with internal betrayal. All he wanted to do was grow closer to her, to tell her whatever thoughts were racing through his mind. Then I understood, because four paragraphs ago, I was Weller, trying to stay objective but yearning to go on and on about how incredibly invested I am in this show already. At some point, we’ve all been Weller, forced to bury a part of our emotions because for whatever reason, it’s not considered appropriate to let them lose. As kids these days say, the struggle is real. It can be applied to many more situations than these, making what initially seemed like a frustrating character choice into a widely relatable one.
What became problematic about Weller’s behavior was that it didn’t come across as smoothly as it could have. He turned a metaphoric cold shoulder on Jane without even a semblance of an explanation and scolded her by demeaning her behavior instead of suggesting the correct way to act. At moments, it felt like drama for drama’s sake. He intentionally pushed her away in a manner that only gained him friction. What was he afraid of losing by just telling her the truth? How hard would it have been to go, “Hey, Jane. Let’s forget about that time we almost pre-kissed and keep this weird relationship we have on a Mayfair-approved level. Okay?” Problem solved, which is precisely the problem. There needs to be drama for entertaining stories. But there also needs to be a balance between inhibiting yourself from expressing any emotions and freely pouring them out. So, thank you, Agent Weller, for teaching us that it’s okay to crack a little bit.
It’s devastating that Weller and Jane are two people who are hurting and should be confiding in one another, but they aren’t because of perceptions and rules. At some point, we’ve all been Jane as well. For many people, that relatability may come from having been on the receiving end of someone’s unexplained cold shoulder. For others, it’s from a desire to build a life outside of work or from a longing to not feel so alone even when you’re surrounded by people. It’s always a pleasant surprise when Jane’s character is the one to bring out profound statements about humanity because she comes at it from a pure perspective. Just like her gut reaction to stop the abusive husband in the pilot, she demonstrated that we should stand up for what we think is right. There should be more fulfillments in life than just work, and having friends and emotional connections is not a distraction, it’s a necessity.
The women stole the spotlight this week, and it all started with the introduction of a one episode guest star. In addition to Aimee Carrero breathing her own vibrancy into the character, Ana is the most well-developed supporting character that they’ve written, and it showed based on the different types of interactions she had with Jane, Patterson, and Zapata. Jane’s presence allowed Ana to open up, even for a brief moment, and led to Jane taking on the role of her protector, a maternal vibe similar to what Sarah has been wonderfully fulfilling for the series. Patterson was back to her usual spunky, quotable self after she had little to do last week. Her almost rivalry with Ana revealed a new competitive side. The two had a fun rapport that brought levity to an otherwise heavy story. Zapata’s interrogation scene with Ana painted them as similar tough women, as survivors, and effortlessly provided backstory about Zapata’s father leaving and her mother being an alcoholic. Ana brought a youthful energy that the show was missing, and I hope she returns in the future.
Five weeks ago, who would have thought that I’d be this moved by a single, devastated look that Zapata gives after paying the bookie with Carter’s money? So simplistic in its execution, but so effective in its result. In addition, using sarcasm as a defense mechanism is not a new technique in the real of human interactions, but it was a new way for Zapata to respond. The way she turned Reade’s openness to talk back around on him screamed a cry for help, if only he could see it. However much we’ve seen of Zapata’s internal struggle, there are still questions I have about her role on the team. She seems to be good with using technology in the field, but not as skilled with computers as Patterson. What is Zapata’s specialty? What makes her an essential part of the team? And more so what is Reade’s specialty? What does he bring to the team to make him invaluable aside from the bravery of speaking his mind when others disagree with him?
At first, the idea of an app causing incidents worthy of this team’s attention sounds like an unnecessary social commentary waiting to happen. The concept could have easily been turned into a warning to society about the evils of technology and the dangers of trusting people you meet online, but that was not at all the case. While the latter certainly ran through the episode, the app itself was a rather minor focus. It started a story that spun off in a new direction. Like “Split the Law,” this episode’s second half focused on a different type of threat than the one the team started out investigating. It enhanced the case of the week and created a more well-rounded look into the consequences of Ana’s one action. Life is messy and unpredictable, and this case fell in line with that statement.
Since the pilot, we’ve received several clues about Jane’s past and a minor hint about who did this to her, but when you put them together, they don’t add up to much. However, it’s still promising that the writers have been dropping tiny bits of information nearly every episode, even if it’s just a quick flash of a mystery man or a memory of a room. It keeps the audience from thinking that they’re never going to provide answers, even if these clues cancel one another out. I’m looking forward to how everything is going to fold together to form a cohesive story, whether that’s in the midseason finale or a longer ways down the line.
Odds and Ends:
– This title’s anagram is “Cloud Our Eyes.”
– The subtitles could have been a little more distinct from the background.
– Why is Jane’s alarm set for 5 a.m.?!
– Now anytime I don’t know where to set a scene it’s going to be in front of an elevator.
– What was interesting and notable about the teaser was that it served as a rapid-fire follow up to how the stories ended last week and doubled as a catch up for people who potentially missed the last episode.
– “The mask is the message” was an unassuming line until the writers on Twitter started geeking out over Marshall McLuhan and his concept, “The medium is the message,” and gave me flashbacks to every media class I’ve ever taken. Thanks, guys, for reminding me how much of a geek I am as well.
– Weller: So shutting this thing down is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.
Patterson: No. It’s like finding a piece of hay in a haystack, like a very specific piece of hay in the haystack.
– Jane: If you ever want somebody to grab a coffee with…
Ana: I don’t drink coffee.
Jane: Right. I just mean if you ever want to talk… or we could catch a movie. I can almost promise you I won’t have seen it.
