As I reminisced on an exceptionally potent string of episodes in my recap from last week, I was acutely aware that I might be unwittingly sealing the fate of "9-1-1." Yet, I hadn't foreseen such an abrupt plummet into mediocrity. It seems there's little reason to fret about the remainder of the season – no critical plot twists or fresh characters loom that could derail its course. If anything, the episode's most glaring sin is its predominantly filler nature. Oh, and the appearance of Stacey Rusch's possibly phony beau, TJ. But more on him later.
"Disconnected" commences with a bang, as Maddie is plagued by a harrowing nightmare of returning to the dispatch center, her dream culminating in a throat-slashing scene. Kudos to the showrunners for acknowledging a character's trauma; these characters endure such harrowing ordeals weekly that we often gloss over incidents that, in real life, would necessitate extensive therapy. I just wish the narrative execution here were a tad more captivating.
Despite Sue and Chimney's encouragement to take all the time she needs, Maddie believes her dreams are urging her back to work. (Frankly, they're more like whispering severe PTSD, but I'm no shrink.) At dispatch, everyone is overwhelmingly supportive. Maddie insists she belongs there, albeit facing initial difficulties. (Josh's "If my last call was from a serial killer, I'd be jittery answering the phone too" isn't exactly reassuring.)
Thankfully, Maddie's first call isn't from someone sobbing into a voice changer but from Chance, a boy trapped with his unconscious father in a smoke-filled apartment – distressing, but par for the course. Maddie swiftly locates the building, and the 118 rushes to the scene. However, when she tries to instruct Chance to wave a blanket out the window, she finds herself unable to speak. Maddie appears dizzy and panicked (Jennifer Love Hewitt's facial expressions are spot on again). Short of bleeding from a throat wound, this is her darkest nightmare. With Josh's assistance, the 118 saves Chance and his dad, but Maddie's voice is gone.
Maddie and Chimney consult a specialist who, via a throat CT, confirms that while Maddie's vocal cords have ceased functioning, there's no physical ailment. She's suffering from psychogenic aphonia, likely linked to her recent trauma. This diagnosis is pretty obvious, so I'd rather dwell on the fact that the doctor is portrayed by Thomas Anthony "TJ" Jones, a recurring figure from the recently concluded ninth season of "The Real Housewives of Potomac." TJ spent the season belittling newbie Stacey and refusing to have sex with her before claiming she paid him to pretend they were dating. If true, she got shortchanged because he's far more credible as a doctor on "9-1-1" than as Stacey's pretend beau. But let's return to the main issue! Dr. TJ (Turner) notes that while vocal rest and speech therapy could aid, Maddie's voice might be absent for weeks, years, or perhaps forever. "She took my voice," Maddie scrawls. Later, during vocal exercises at home, Chimney insists that Braeburn is gone and can't best Maddie. That may be literally true, but she still occupies a significant chunk of Maddie's thoughts – and mine too. I miss her vibe!
As the narrative unfolds, Eddie finds himself back in the spotlight on "9-1-1," now situated in El Paso and engaging in an interview for a firefighter position with Captain Morales. Despite Morales' subtle threat perception stemming from Eddie's glowing reference by Captain Nash, who assures Eddie a perpetual spot at the 118 (a sentiment that brings me a peculiar comfort), the interview appears to be progressing smoothly. Empowered by the anticipation of an inevitable job offer, Eddie impulsively spends an advance bonus—that he hasn't yet earned—on a PS5 for Christopher, hopeful that it might entice Chris to set it up at his prospective new abode (a subtle hint, indeed). However, Chris decides to keep it with his grandparents, marking the first of several disappointments to come. Morales subsequently informs Eddie of a hiring freeze, potentially delaying his job offer for months.
During a FaceTime conversation with Buck, Eddie confesses his inability to financially support Christopher without steady income, hinting at a possible swift return to L.A. Buck, perhaps selfishly reluctant to share his apartment, reminds Eddie of his initial motive in moving to Texas: to be Christopher's father. Buck urges him to find a way to stay.Eddie concludes that becoming a rideshare driver is his best option. My issue with this segment isn't the dignity of ridesharing or the show's creation of a fictional rideshare app named Rideshare; rather, it's the interminable montage that ensues. Eddie, annoyingly chatty and often tip-less, drives passenger after passenger. Meanwhile, he deceives his family by falsely claiming a firefighter job, falling asleep during meals, and borrowing money from his parents for Christopher's chess lessons. Perhaps the intention was to portray Eddie's eventual triumph in mastering his new role, guided by advice from a seasoned rideshare driver to tone down the chatter, capitalize on surge pricing, and read the room. Eddie's return of a wealthy passenger's phone earns him a $100 tip, which he uses to repay his parents and buy Chris a video game. Perhaps some appreciated this sequence more than I did, but it felt as if the writers were at a loss for Eddie's storyline in El Paso.
For a fleeting moment, Eddie thrives as a rideshare driver. However, his bubble bursts when one of his passengers turns out to be Christopher and his friends. Eddie is embarrassed to be driving people around instead of saving lives and even more ashamed of lying to his son once more (surely realizing this is far less problematic than having an emotional affair with his deceased ex-wife's doppelgänger). As Eddie floods Christopher's phone with apology texts, his son arrives at his doorstep, PS5 in hand. No, Chris doesn't want to set it up at Eddie's; he wants his dad to return it, recognizing Eddie's financial need if he intends to stay in Texas. Kudos to Chris for displaying greater fiscal responsibility than his father. Affirming his desire for Eddie to stay, Chris assures Eddie of his pride and they share a heartfelt hug, each uttering, "I love you." This is monumental coming from a grumpy 14-year-old.
Meanwhile, back in L.A., Athena visits Maddie, still voiceless. If there's a cure for Maddie, it's undoubtedly an Angela Bassett monologue. Athena, who has faced her share of traumas, draws strength from those who depend on her. "I, too, have wrestled with ghosts, Maddie," she says. "I can't reverse the monster's deeds, but I can confront the fear." While Bassett delivers this moment with exceptional prowess, Maddie remains voiceless. I was content with Maddie's silence stretching into the next few episodes—she's been carrying the season's latter half admirably. Instead, she briefly loses sight of Jee-Yun at the playground and regains her voice by screaming for her daughter. While this seems like additional trauma that could intensify her situation, I'm not a professional. The episode concludes with Maddie back at the dispatch center, manning the phones. Logic aside, it's heartening to see her where she belongs.
