This week's episode of "Evil," titled "How to Train a Dog," didn't quite ignite the same fervor within me as usual, primarily due to the swift revelation of our central mystery. The notion of a werewolf lurking in the shadows of a graveyard, a staple of the series' eerie allure, was swiftly dismantled when we discovered, mere scenes later, that the culprit was but a robotic canine, effectively deflating the built-up tension. Nevertheless, the episode managed to salvage its charm with poignant character moments and intriguing advancements in David's intricate relationship with the Vatican's secret service, keeping viewers on the edge of their seats.
As the trio huddled in the cozy confines of a pickup truck bed, swapping spine-tingling tales of the supernatural, Ben (Aasif Mandvi) stepped away for a moment of solitude, while David (Mike Colter) seized the opportunity to inquire about Kristen's (Katja Herbers) impending childbirth in mere 38 days, wondering if it were all a mischievous jest. Kristen's emphatic denial, coupled with her dismissive labeling of Leland as a mere "big talker" spouting demonic nonsense, left me pondering whether she truly embraced the weight of carrying the Antichrist within her. Her lack of visible pregnancy belied Leland's (Michael Emerson) later assessment of her being eight months along, and she declared her resignation from fear, embracing a world gone mad with individuals seeking to manipulate and control. David conceded that Kristen had indeed undergone a transformation, a sentiment I echoed, given the surreal ordeals our heroes have endured across seasons.
One solitary yet potent moment of chilling horror emerged in the form of two glowing, orange eyes peering from behind a weathered gravestone. As David cautiously approached to investigate, the figure lunged, only to reveal itself as a robotic watchdog. Back at the church, Father Ignatius (Wallace Shawn) presided, while Sister Andrea (Andrea Martin) interrupted proceedings with news of another drone attack, this time targeting Sister Agnes, who, notably, shared the same skin tone as the trio. This coincidence sparked suspicion of an algorithmic prejudice against Black individuals.
Upon returning home, David was met with a surprising visitor: Victor LeConte (Brian D'Arcy James), who conveyed the Vatican's satisfaction with David's assistance in the Grace matter and their urgent need for his services once again. LeConte imparted an address and a series of eccentric instructions: arrive at a precise time, attired solely in cotton, devoid of red or distracting patterns, and equipped with running shoes. David, echoing the audience's curiosity, inquired, "Do you simply conjure these bizarre requests?" LeConte evaded the question, merely emphasizing David's indispensable role in these trying times.
As David arrives at the enigmatic address, he's plunged into a realm of surrealism, culminating in an interrogation room. Samuel H. Levine, the individual ushered in, divulges a morsel of personal trivia before departing, leaving David perplexed and ushered to another chamber. Here, he's joined by a select few, tasked with an odd directive: to concentrate solely on an Ace of Diamonds card and sketch it on paper, devoid of any context or explanation. The odyssey continues as David is escorted to yet another room, where LeConte reappears, announcing his "graduation" and the conclusion of their time together. My heart sinks at the prospect of LeConte's absence from the narrative; he's a character who infuses the show with a delightful zest. His rumored successor, Father Dominic (Chukwudi Iwuji), introduces David to a video recorded by the interrogation room's occupant, simultaneously captured while David was engrossed in his own bizarre experience. The video reveals the same Ace of Diamonds card affixed to a post, the background skylines eerily mirroring David's own sketches from the previous room. LeConte's explanation that he's stepping aside due to the CIA's foray into remote viewing, a concept he disavows, contrasts sharply with Father Dominic's enthusiasm, embracing this as one of the "many chambers" within the Lord's domain. David, often serving as the audience's proxy, mirrors my own bewilderment.
Meanwhile, at Ben's abode, The Magnificent engages in a scientific duel with his djinn. He meticulously constructs a corridor of contrast, one side adorned with monochrome banners, the other a tapestry of vibrant squares. At the corridor's end, a lamp illuminates the stage, as Ben, with unwavering gaze, deduces the hue that renders the djinn most visible. Adhering post-it notes to the most conspicuous sections of the banners, he systematically tracks the djinn's elusive presence, all the while the djinn vainly attempts to engage in dialogue. This scene, reminiscent of last week's masterful narrative technique, deftly keeps the djinn at bay, eschewing cheap thrills in favor of a nuanced exploration of Ben's mental landscape. Even as the djinn challenges Ben's logic, claiming he "can't science his way out of this," Ben counters, suspecting the djinn's vernacular as a reflection of his own psyche. The djinn's tangible grasp on Ben's head from behind shatters any lingering certainty, leaving us as perplexed as David.
Elsewhere, Lexis (Maddy Crocco) awakens to the pitiful whimpers of the robotic dog at the door, a scene that fails to resonate with me this week. As the Bouchard offspring inquires about the canine's wellbeing and affectionately pets it, I find myself disconnected from the portrayal of children's fascination with robotics. Perhaps it's a generational divide, but the authenticity seems to falter. While Kristen remains indifferent, Andy (Patrick Brammall) and the girls are captivated by the robot. Kristen's aversion deepens when she encounters it prowling the girls' bedroom in the dead of night, growling menacingly as she approaches. However, the growls prove to be a red herring, as Lynn (Brooklyn Shuck) stealthily returns home from her clandestine tutoring sessions with Sister Andrea, a secret she diligently keeps from her mother.
Andy's condition has taken a dire turn. One fateful morning, Kristen discovers him hiding beneath the bed, a grim sight that propels her to insist on a trip to the doctor's office. There, the physician's keen eye catches injection marks peeking out between Andy's toes, a telltale sign of his secret encounters with Leland. Meanwhile, Leland, unabashed as ever, hosts a sinister presentation, blending humans and demons alike, scheming on how to lure more unsuspecting souls into their "consumption."
Enter Greg R. Bruni, a political operative portrayed with chilling ferocity by Danny Mastrogiorgio. Assigned to Sheryl (Christine Lahti), he poses a formidable challenge, his demonic essence threatening to burst forth. But Sheryl, a force to be reckoned with, counters with ruthless efficiency, subduing Bruni's aggression and amputating his pinky finger with a smirk, mocking his anguished howls. Her triumphant return to the office is met with accolades, yet her reward is a cramped workspace beneath a metaphorical glass ceiling, Leland and his cronies looming overhead. Her tolerance for his manipulation baffles, yet her resolve to seek revenge burns bright as he taunts her from above.
The trio's investigation leads them to Harley (Maurice Jones), a fellow African American who disavows any role in the robot's biased behavior, claiming he merely hacked it to extend its battery life. A Reddit thread reveals the method, and within its depths, they stumble upon a sigil, igniting a new theory. David postulates that the robot's attacks might not be race-based but rooted in religion. Ben, initially dismissive, comes around, realizing the robot could be targeting phone apps and GPS data. The Bible app on David's phone, shared by Sister Agnes, becomes the clue. This hunch proves prescient as another robotic hound descends upon the Bouchard residence, snarling at Lynn as she listens to her own Bible app. Kristen, swift and fierce, intercedes, pulverizing the machine with a hammer.
Though the robot dog's revelation came sooner than anticipated, the episode's depth and intrigue remain intact. Its threads promise to intertwine with future narratives, but one scene begs for more screen time: Ben's therapy sessions with Dr. Kurt (Kurt Fuller), where the djinn lurks at the fringes, haunting his every thought. When asked how he can assist Ben, the tech-savvy shrink admits helplessness with a simple "I don't know." And as Ben grapples with uncertainty and fear, so do we, left on the edge of our seats, awaiting the next chapter in this thrilling tale.
