The premiere of "Evil" Season 4, Episode 1, "How to Split an Atom," seamlessly picks up where Season 3 left off, immersing us in a dazed Kristen's (Katja Herbers) reality as Leland (Michael Emerson), with a smug grin, casually informs her that she now carries his offspring, a gift from the enigmatic DF. Kristen strides out of the room, silently brushing aside Sheryl's (Christine Lahti) tearful attempts at conversation, leaving the latter's concerns unaddressed.
Leland, undaunted, intercepts Kristen at the elevator, his words dripping with conviction as he declares that their union of sperm and egg was fated, heralding the birth of the Antichrist in mere 38 days. Kristen's response? A burst of laughter that echoes through the halls, a jarring contrast to the gravity of the situation.
As they descend the elevator in an undoubtedly tense atmosphere, Leland pursues Kristen, determined to understand her mirth. She finally turns to him, explaining the absurdity of the situation: the thought of an infant, be it the Antichrist or not, reducing Leland to a sleep-deprived mess with its cries and diaper mishaps, strikes her as hilarious. This mental image, of a "wailing, soiling baby" robbing the villain of his much-needed rest, serves as a cathartic release, visibly deflating Leland's usually smug facade. His weakness, long masked by an air of control, is momentarily exposed.
Meanwhile, David (Mike Colter) sits troubled in his room, haunted by the angelic vision from the previous season, its ominous words "Woe to Babylon, 38 days" echoing in his mind. Fueled by curiosity, he delves into the amusingly monikered website "Total Religion," stumbling upon Revelation 18:10, a chilling echo of his prophecy. The site's imagery sears into his consciousness, particularly a haunting drawing of a horned child emerging from a woman's womb amidst demonic onlookers, a clear allusion to the impending birth of the Antichrist—a truth David is yet unaware Kristen already carries within her.
Father Ignatius (Wallace Shawn), tasked with remaining by the side of Kristen, David, and Ben (Aasif Mandvi) following the tragic loss of the Monsignor, presents them with a new challenge: investigating a research facility equipped with a particle accelerator capable of splitting atoms. Lately, the facility has garnered unwanted attention from religious factions fearful that the accelerator might unwittingly open the gates of Hell. Their mission: to alleviate these fears and restore calm to the frayed nerves of the concerned parties.
Within the confines of the facility, Kristen, David, and Ben were each issued the standard orange jumpsuits, adorned with badges sporting green dots that would ominously transform to red, should radiation levels plummet into hazardous territory. Let's just dub these badges "Chekov's Warnings," for the sake of simplicity. The cyclical hum of power, the thunderous echoes of the earth's uneasy settling, and a few gory, demonic faces chalked haphazardly on walls, dismissed as mere graffiti, all painted a picture far more sinister than any ordinary research hub.
As they mounted their scooters to retreat towards the entrance, David stumbled upon a cryptic note, neatly folded and affixed to his vehicle. The words "They're lying" seared through him, leading to an address and an invitation to uncover the truth. This is precisely the intrigue that draws me to 'Evil,' the relentless manipulation of fact and fiction, blurring the lines between reality and deception.
At the designated address, they encountered Mateo (Victor Cruz), a facility insider whom Kristen had earlier glimpsed, nervously clutching a rosary. Mateo divulged tales of a sinister sinkhole, accompanied by a video that painted a dire picture, reinforcing the facility's ominous undercurrents.
I had momentarily forgotten that the title sequence, a delightful twenty-minute teaser at times, could be so artfully delayed. When it finally graced the screen in Season 4, Episode 1, I was overjoyed to witness the return of the pop-up book motif, its narrative-infused artistry punctuated by a jarring demonic jump scare, as captivating as ever. The addictive theme music, escalating in intensity, wrapped me in a comforting embrace, reminiscent of the show's demonic possession narrative. And then, the subtle touch that never fails to amuse—a disclaimer at the screen's bottom, a playful warning: "Skip the intro and you will be haunted."
Meanwhile, Andy's (Patrick Brammall) state was far from tranquil. Amidst construction on the house's extension, a cryptic call from Leland sent him scurrying away. Next, we find him in Leland's bizarre "People Juice" chamber, eyes open yet seemingly comatose. Leland relentlessly planted the idea in Andy's mind that Kristen and David were entangled in an affair, while Sheryl, in her own bid, sought to coerce Kristen into allowing her back into her life, after being banished. The comedic tension escalated as Leland and Sheryl argued over which narrative should take precedence, their voices overlapping in a desperate attempt to manipulate Andy's mind, a hilarious precursor to a jarring transition into the next scene.
Leland's brainwashing appears to have borne fruit, as evidenced by Andy's subsequent, fiery confrontation with David over Kristen's infidelity, an accusation the bewildered priest vehemently denies. Yet, the reemergence of Demon Kristen, lounging seductively on David's bed, silently mocking him, speaks volumes. When David reveals this encounter to Kristen, her righteous indignation boils over, prompting a confrontation with Andy the very next morning. Irrespective of whether this was Leland's deliberate strategy, it undeniably aligns with his objective of dismantling Kristen's emotional barriers. My regard for Andy wanes once more, fostering suspicions that, as a mere pawn in Leland's sinister chess game, his fate may be sealed before the series' final curtain.The events that unfold at the facility after David's scooter succumbs to a dead battery, forcing him to continue on foot, are a harrowing succession of nightmares. With a swift tug, David unveils the tarpaulin shrouding the seemingly bottomless sinkhole, only to be greeted by a power surge, crimson lights flashing, and an alarm blaring. Emerging from this abyssal maw is a colossal centipede, its grotesque burden a woman's severed head, pleading for mercy as it slithers towards David. Concurrently, the ominous Chekov's Badges glow red, and Ben is struck by a searing beam from the particle accelerator, plunging him into a chaotic whirlwind of disturbing visions.
Despite Ben's assurance of a clean bill of health, his altered state is undeniable. The triumphant return of Ben's djinn to his abode is a masterfully orchestrated sequence, where the slightest shift in his periphery hints at something unseen, only for the camera to sweep past, revealing nothing but empty space. The djinn, cognizant of Ben's disbelief, challenges him to shut his eyes, then materializes behind him, arms outstretched, as an awe-inspiring organ riff echoes through the air.
David's philosophical exchange with Sister Andrea (Andrea Martin) delves into a topic that, as a lapsed Catholic, I too have pondered: the enigmatic existence of Hell. David queries why a benevolent God would consign souls to such a fate, and Sister Andrea responds poignantly, suggesting that individuals condemn themselves. David ponders the fate of his atheist friends, good-hearted souls who may not share his beliefs, wondering if their disbelief alone consigns them to damnation. Sister Andrea's gentle admonishment is to pray for them, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the doctrinal quagmire before bidding David farewell.
This week's Kurt Alert, though seemingly innocuous on the surface, teases a deeper intrigue. Following a fleeting consultation with Kristen's eldest daughter, who nurtures an unwavering aspiration to embrace the monastic life, a hasty knock echoes through Sister Andrea's door, ushering in a visibly agitated Dr. Kurt (Kurt Fuller). The beleaguered therapist, his demeanor a testament to his plight, implores the Sister's aid, confessing to a misdeed before forcefully entering her sanctuary. The nature of this transgression? With Dr. Kurt's enigmatic past, the possibilities are endless and tantalizingly ominous.
The enigmatic centipede's ascension towards David may have been but a fleeting mirage, yet the trio's conclusive sojourn to the facility casts doubts aside, painting a more sinister picture. The fixed camera lens captures Mateo's erratic behavior, his movements a precursor to an unseen force that seemingly engulfs him. A sprint towards the abyssal sinkhole reveals no trace of Mateo, save for ominous claw marks and a telltale splatter of blood at the precipice, a stark reminder of the show's macabre undercurrents.
As the episode draws to a close, we are privy to a trio of ominous events, their convergence merely 38 days away: the facility's ominous reopening, the anticipated birth of the Antichrist, and the cryptic prophecy whispered by David's angelic visitor, evoking yet another bout of Kristen's unsettling laughter. While these revelations may not unfold in the immediate episode to come, the mere prospect is a tantalizing tease, sparing us the arduous wait of 38 days to uncover their mysteries.
'Evil' Season 4 has embarked on a thrilling sprint, and my anticipation could not be more exhilarated.
