Awake 1.02: Independent Witness by Pearson Moore

This time her name is Captain Harper, not Dr. Kerry Weaver. Those of us familiar with life on the Island immediately thought of another woman of authority involved in conspiracy: Dr. Harper Stanhope. My first thought, though, when I saw her give Detective Michael Britten his dressing down, was “Oh, no. It’s Sophia Maguire from Mount Inostranka.” But Laura Innes is not walking with a cane, as the good Dr. Weaver was wont to do, and I doubt we will ever see her dressed in a surplus parka having just come off the mountain. It took me a full day to realise the reason for my consternation regarding that final scene of Episode Two was not that NBC was attempting to recycle The Event, but rather that Captain Harper reminded me of another authority figure from a dream state: Mr. Charles.

Whether or not Captain Harper is Michael Britten’s Head of Security in this complicated subconscious reality, one truth became clear in this second episode: I was wrong last week when I stated this drama contains three levels. The series may yet turn into a procedural with easy maguffins and a cutesy concept, or it may become nothing more than a psychologically/mythologically-based mystery, but there is yet reason to believe something more may be involved. In fact, the series contains levels and dimensions probably new to television drama; I believe Awake has potential to rival the most densely plotted and imagined series we have seen on the small screen.

The great revelation tonight was not that a conspiracy is under foot. We already had our suspicions about the nature of the “accident”, as I related in last week’s analysis. The greatest revelation was that Michael Britten was nowhere to be seen when Captain Harper met with her fellow conspirator, and the meeting’s immediate importance was captured in the phrase she uttered in the final line of dialogue: “It’s nothing.” Those two words mean everything.

The Cam Shaft



That we would begin to see crossover between Red Hannah and Blue Rex is not surprising, since the first episode was packed with instances of crossover at crime scenes and the police office. But nuances remain, and the significance of these little clues is to be found not in the nuts and bolts of mythology but in the way the cam shafts and fabric softeners and “fajita feasts” play out in their lives. The significance is not symbolic, but illustrative of relationship between red and blue.

In Michael’s Police World, names and places and characteristics point to things similar. 611 Waverly is not important in itself, it symbolises nothing, but it illustrates a fractured relationship between worlds. In the Red Reality, 611 Waverly refers to a street address, but in the Blue Reality, 611 is a parking stall at Waverly Dock. The fact that the correspondence of particulars from one Police World to another is not one-on-one, but imprecise and fractured, is not anything new, but that it appears to be a rule we can rely on is something we could not have known in the first episode. In this second episode, though, the rule became the source of Michael’s frustration, and the focal point of our fascination.

The Red Police World witness indicated the perpetrator was a short guy. Having solved crimes in both police worlds in the first episode, Michael no doubt felt secure in zeroing in on the relevance of the homeless man’s Red Police World testimony to the Blue Police World murder of Dr. Bernard MacKenzie. He knew to trust the alibi of Dr. MacKenzie’s partner, Dr. Taylor, simply because the 6’ 11” man was tall not short. The value of the homeless witness’ testimony immediately proved itself in the other police world, but not in the stressful Red Police World itself. Perhaps Michael is only beginning to understand that the crossover relevance of clues is not precise.

On the other hand, the first instance of crossover between Red Hannah and Blue Rex indicated precise one-on-one correlation, with objects identical to each other and properly belonging in both worlds. The cam shaft did not fit a boat in one world and a Grand Prix racer in the other, but rather it fit the same motorcycle in both worlds. If Michael had uncovered the cam shaft as a clue in one police world, it would not have fit exactly in the other police world.

Many Worlds



The significance may be greater than we understand. Keep in mind that we have not yet seen any crossover between police worlds and loved ones’ worlds; as I stated last week, Michael may be inhabiting as many as six different worlds. I am eager indeed to see next week’s episode, in which Rex is kidnapped. Surely Michael will use every resource in both police worlds, but I suspect he will also avail himself of every resource in both loved ones’ worlds. The potential for crossover is going to be enormous, and next week’s interactions ought to shed strong light on the nature of this very complicated reality system.

The cam shaft and the motorcycle became interesting totems carried by independent subjects. When we first saw the cam shaft, Hannah had withdrawn it from the box mailed to Rex’s friend, Cole. The scene in which Hannah appeared at Cole’s door may seem unremarkable, but it was possibly the most fascinating scene so far in the series. It was remarkable not for what Hannah held in her hands, but for what was missing from the scene: Michael.

The cam shaft scene was the first instance of Michael’s absence. The scene was delivered from Hannah’s POV (point of view), meaning that she became the narrator of the scene. This is exciting, especially in the context of the series’ premise, since we have reason to believe that at least one reality exists entirely in Michael Britten’s imagination and nowhere else. If Hannah is narrating a scene, her existence in objective reality is a strong hypothesis; that is, Hannah may be really, truly alive.

We may feel safe in concluding that Hannah’s existence in objective reality means Rex is dead and lives on only in Michael’s dreams. However, keep in mind that we saw the motorcycle from Rex’s POV also, and Michael was nowhere to be seen. That Rex could narrate a scene also indicates he exists in objective reality.

One might legitimately ask how Hannah and Rex could both exist in objective reality. The facts in one world seem to contradict those in the other. Michael and Red Hannah know they buried their son. But Michael and Blue Rex know they buried Rex’s mother. There is no Blue Hannah and there is no Red Rex.

Of course, we make many assumptions when we point to the contradiction inherent in the simultaneous independence of Rex and Hannah. We are trained to think of narrators as subjects rather than objects. But they may be nothing more than agents, apparently independent but nevertheless under the control of Michael’s subconscious, working on his behalf to work the fertile fields of his vast imagination.

But we need to think outside the box, too. The box we’ve been given, at least by Dr. Lee and Dr. Judith Evans, is that Red and Blue are mutually exclusive. One reality is objectively true, while the other is a manufactured fantasy intended to assist Michael to work through or hide his pain or his guilt.
Here are some of the worlds Michael may be inhabiting:

Red Hannah World
Blue Rex World
Red Vega/Police World
Blue Freeman/Police World
Red Dr. Lee/Shrink World
Blue Dr. Evans/Shrink World

But we have at least three more worlds to add to this list: Hannah’s Independent Red World, Rex’s Independent Blue World, and Captain Harpers Independent Red World. In particular, Captain Harper’s meeting with Stern Suit Man at the end of the episode indicates the possibility that the conspiracy was successful in “taking out his [Michael’s] entire family”. That is, both Hannah and Rex may be dead.

There are many other possibilities. For one, there may be no “objective reality”. I don’t think Awake is going to head in that direction, but we need to be open to that possibility. Another interesting possibility, one already explored by actor Dylan Minnette, who plays Rex, is that either Rex or Hannah never existed prior to the accident. In LOST, Dylan Minnette played David Shephard, a son manufactured by Jack Shephard’s post-mortem imagination to address LOST’s “Daddy Issues” theme. I have no hope of explaining that one unless you’ve seen all six seasons of LOST—not even a 5000-word essay would do it justice. LOST found a unique way of describing reality, and Awake may be attempting another such unique explanation of our world. Finally, as I mentioned last week, Detective Michael Britten’s closest cinematic counterpart may be Dr. Malcolm Crowe (The Sixth Sense).

While I believe we must keep the above possibilities in mind, I think it more likely that Awake is attempting something else entirely, and I believe tonight’s episode began to give us glimpses into the fascinating structure it may be constructing.

Mr. Charles



I believe the presence of three apparently independent subjects (Hannah, Rex, and Captain Harper) in tonight’s episode gives credence to a close association between Awake and Inception. It seems to me unlikely that Captain Harper would have been deployed as an agent of Michael’s subconscious mind. More likely, it seems to me, Harper is a truly independent agent. She clearly wishes to manipulate Michael, and this is the reason I invoke comparison to Mr. Charles. She did not take Michael off the Bernard MacKenzie investigation because she felt it a waste of the department’s time, but rather because she recognised that any investigation of the homeless junkie’s death may spark recollections of which she intended to keep Michael unaware. That was certainly the gist of her conversation with Stern Suit Man at the end of the episode, and she therefore bears striking functional similarity to Mr. Charles.

If we explore the apparent close correlation between Harper and Mr. Charles, Harper’s indifference to departmental efficiency makes sense. The department’s activities are window dressing for some particular more important activity indicated by the conspiracy between her, Mr. Stern Man, the short person who “[took] out [Michael’s] entire family”, and at least several other conspirators. If she is in a shared dream state, or some other shared state outside the realm of objective reality, and if Michael’s entire family has been “taken out”, this may strengthen the hypothesis that both Rex and Hannah are dead, or both of them are emotional or psychological constructs aimed at perpetuating Michael’s ignorance of objective realities before the crash.

Going further, the crash event may be something like the kick events in Inception. In the case of Awake, though, the crash event may have served not as dream termination but as dream induction—the event that at least temporarily severed Michael from objective reality and brought him into whatever state Mr. Stern Man, Captain Harper, and their associates wished to create for Michael.

If this arrangement is correct, it seems likely that the other two characters who have acted without Michael’s knowledge (or at least his immediate subconscious approval)—Rex and Hannah, this week centred on the motorcycle—are likewise acting independently and attempting emotional or psychological coercion.

Dead Is Not Dead



Sam, the paralegal’s son, killed his biological father. He pleaded with Michael and Freeman to wipe out the DNA evidence that proved Dr. MacKenzie was the father of hundreds of children like Sam. The problem, of course, is that Dr. MacKenzie’s legacy can never be wiped out. Sam, whether he likes it or not, is Dr. MacKenzie’s legacy. In some strange way we cannot fully understand, Dr. MacKenzie is “weirdly alive” in hundreds of young women and men just like Sam.

We heard that phrase, “weirdly alive”, in quite another context during tonight’s episode. But the particulars of the Dr. Bernard MacKenzie investigation invite us to draw comparisons. Sam began his investigation at the fertility clinic because he wished to glean more information about his dead father, just as Michael’s anguished mind is trying to gather more information about his (possibly dead) son. Sam’s mother, the paralegal, like Hannah, didn’t want to talk about her dead loved one.

The same motorcycle was real in both Hannah’s world and Rex’s world. The motorcycles were not similar. They were identical. There is only one motorcycle, and it was Rex’s and Cole’s joint project in both worlds. I actually think the fact that the motorcycle is common to both worlds is an indication that this concrete object is a construct of the metaworld, but if so, it was likely a collaboration not between Rex and Cole, but between Rex and Hannah.

No matter what Sam does, he cannot get around the truth that Dr. Bernard MacKenzie somehow lives in him. In the same way, Hannah cannot get around the truth that Rex’s desire to ride a motorcycle could not be denied by her imposition of parental will. “Rex found a way” to make his dreams not only become real, but live on after his death. Rex somehow lives on—perhaps through Cole, or Hannah, or Michael, or all of them.

“When I saw that motorcycle,” Hannah said, “when I saw this thing that Rex was just pouring himself into—and I didn’t even know about it … something about it just felt weirdly alive, you know?”

The Independent Witness



There are sentinels. There are independent actors who are not agents of the conspiracy, who report neither to Michael nor to Captain Harper, who respond only to “the broadcasts” and the “kind o’ crazy stuff” to which they alone are privy. Someone is attempting to break into this clean little conspiracy, and her agent is the crazy man, the homeless fellow who “doesn’t even know which planet he’s on.” The short man is no figment of confused mind, but the fearless, desperate proclamation of a sentinel trying to force his way into the conspirators’ fantasy, to awaken Michael from his dream state and rescue him from the conspirators’ nefarious plans.

There are conspirators. Hannah continues to seem more interested in molding Michael than accepting her predicament and her grief. It struck me, as I listened to her, that her cadences and emphases mirrored in quite a chilling way the speech patterns of Captain Harper.

There are agents. We have not seen the last of Emma. If I had to bet on the particulars of next week’s episode, I would place the greatest portion of my wager on Emma as being key to the circumstances of Rex’s abduction, and probably being instrumental in his safe rescue. She is a strange kind of agent, too. She seems at the moment peripheral, but we have already seen that Rex “finds a way” to bring his dreams to fruition. Emma is no mere dream, though. She is girlfriend, lover, soul mate—the element of all worlds that most completely carries within herself the essence of Rex’s spirit. She embodies Rex, and therefore she will become central to Michael’s coming struggle to rise above the enforced symmetry of his fractured existence to discover the truth of his life that transcends inkblots and cam shafts.
When Michael finds a way to listen and understand the Witness, when he understands and knows the full truth of Emma, when he finally makes sense of Rex’s and Hannah’s ability to act independent of his will, he will unravel the conspiracy, and he will be Awake.

The Fourth Dimension



“It’s nothing.”

The conspirators are obsessed with preventing Michael from remembering. Captain Harper knew Michael was spending inordinate time and energy researching the “short man”, and she knew this allocation of mental resources was inherently dangerous. In light of her dedication to the conspiracy, she must have understood Michael’s obsession with the “short man” as a likely route to his enlightenment. When Mr. Stern Man confirmed that a “short man” was “that guy you used—for the accident”,
Harper should have felt compelled to express her fears.

Harper: Hey, that guy that you used—for the accident. Was he short?
Stern Man: Short?
Harper: Yeah, like a little guy?
Stern Man: I suppose so. Why? Did Britten say something?
Harper: No. I was just wondering.
Stern Man: Because if you think he remembers anything…
Harper: I said it’s nothing. I’ll keep you informed.

From the earlier part of the conversation, we know Harper was sympathetic to Michael. She wished the conspirators had not been forced to “[take] out his entire family.” She didn’t know everything about the conspiracy, as she didn’t have any information about the person who had been employed to contrive the “accident”. In fact, she appears to be peripheral to the actions of Mr. Stern Man, the short man, and their fellow conspirators.

“It’s nothing” means everything, not only because the words mean Harper may have a positive disposition toward Michael, but because they provide firm indication of an agenda not shared with the conspirators. She is keeping both Michael and the conspirators in the dark about her fears around Michael’s obsession with the “short man”. In the context of our series, this means the procedural drama, the psychological landscape of Michael’s mind, and the grand conspiracy launched with the “accident” are not the only elements in this multi-tiered puzzle. Something more important than the conspiracy is in play, and we see strong evidence of this fourth dimension in Harper’s final words to Mr. Stern Man.

We are vicarious witnesses to a most intriguing world with multiple realities, overlapping agendas, complicated characters, crossover events, and insistent and independent voices. The final scene of the episode gives me reason to hope we are beginning to unravel not just a mystery, but something more fundamental, something with relevance to our lives and to the way we imagine the limits of the human condition. I remain on guard for surplus parkas left over from The Event, but I’m less fearful now. “It’s nothing,” after all, and those words were never spoken on Inostranka.

PM
March 10, 2012