Halfway through the inaugural season of "Invasion," someone finally utters the word on everyone's lips: alien. Thank you, Hashimoto! I can only imagine the lengths you'd go to protect your wife from a grave peril, and I fervently hope it never comes to that!
The series' portrayal of an extraterrestrial onslaught remains a conundrum and a formidable test, with the midpoint episode, "Going Home," once again highlighting some of Simon Kinberg and David Weil's more perplexing decisions, murky character arcs, and excruciating pacing. Did they seriously suggest that the epileptic boy doubles as a sort of extraterrestrial radio antenna? It strikes me as somewhat offensive, doesn't it? Regarding the nonsensical actions, it defies logic that amidst an unmistakable global invasion, Trevante's ex would exclaim, "No, don't return from war; stay wherever you are!" With potential threats lurking everywhere, and this man possessing military training and firearms, whatever led to their breakup becomes irrelevant in a life-or-death scenario! And now, knowing that Kathryn Erbe portrays Kelly Mitchell, the wife of Michael Harney's Patrick, I'm plagued by one question: Couldn't they have roped in Vincent D’Onofrio to essay that role, granting us a "Law and Order: Criminal Intent" reunion? Why must we be denied such delightful delights!
The most captivating aspect of "Going Home" is actually lifted from a cherished pop culture gem, and I'm almost in awe of Kinberg and Weil's brazenness in openly emulating it. On one hand, I'm fascinated by how Aneesha, with minimal persuasion, abandons her family and is enticed by soldiers to become a field doctor, performing emergency surgeries in mobile medical units. This could have been the life she yearned for once, before Ahmed, Luke, and Sarah. Suddenly, it's thrust upon her with scant ceremony—as if the opportunity had been awaiting her all along, and all Aneesha needed was to awaken and seize it. On the other hand, my immediate response to this new twist was, "Isn't this 'Doctor Zhivago'?" I won't "spoil" Boris Pasternak's 64-year-old CIA-themed novel or David Lean's 56-year-old cinematic masterpiece adaptation, for you should definitely read the former and watch the latter. But suffice it to say, I admired Golshifteh Farahani's perpetually dazed expression in that sequence before she sharpens her focus during surgery, and I harbor a hope that Ahmed, Luke, or Sarah never reappear. I'm sorry, but the rest of the Malik family holds no interest for me whatsoever! Farewell to you, I sincerely hope for good!
"Going Home" borrows quite liberally, primarily from Denis Villeneuve's "Arrival" and Roland Emmerich's "Independence Day." To be sure, one could copy far worse, and "Invasion's" international scope allows various subplots to put their unique spins on this subgenre's timeless tropes. Hence, Japan takes the linguistic route, with Hashimoto finally acknowledging that Mitsuki was correct in her insistence that the "Wajo" sound was a form of transmission. Meanwhile, America adopts the "unity now, more than ever" approach, with a female president (naturally) delivering a speech broadcast worldwide, emphasizing the importance of caring for strangers in these unforeseen times. This sense of duty propels Aneesha, Trevante, and Mitsuki, who each pursue their paths to make a difference. But why do I have a hunch that if Sam Neill's rural cop character is still alive after his encounter with that crop-circle alien entity, he's probably not going to side with humanity? Can this show finally provide an update on Dr. Alan Grant, please?
We delve into the narrative sometime shortly after the events chronicled in "The King Is Dead," with each character still grappling to reorganize their lives amidst the shifting landscapes of reality. Let's traverse these locations one by one.
In Afghanistan, Trevante reappears on the desolate U.S. base, only to find it eerily abandoned. His heart sinks as he stumbles upon Chavez's belongings, fails to reach anyone on the radio, and eventually discovers a fax, seemingly torn in haste, bearing the insignia of WARCOM, or the United States Naval Special Warfare Command. The fax reveals that authorities were aware of the soldiers' "encounter with an unknown hostile entity," which "left behind traces of an unfamiliar, corrosive substance," prompting them to relocate to Kabul Airbase for extraction. Amidst the poignant ritual of burying Chavez and an utterly perplexing exchange with his ex (oh, just let this weary soul return home and then navigate their complexities!), Trevante resolves to embark on the perilous journey to the airbase. "There's something sinister afoot here," he murmurs to himself, aware that the insights he could impart to the U.S. military about their desert ordeal could prove invaluable. But what became of the other soldiers who accompanied him through that enigmatic portal?
Across the globe, in the U.K., the children stumble upon an abandoned truck brimming with junk food. Only Casper notices the deep indentations in the driver's seat and the embedded reactive material, while the others remain oblivious to the gaping hole and cracked windshield of the vehicle. They are too engrossed in indulging in chocolate and crisps, and later, too terrified by Monty's insistence that the radio broadcasts herald a terrorist attack to scrutinize their surroundings. Meanwhile, Casper's epilepsy is triggered by the aliens' frequency, a distressing portrayal that underscores the show's problematic treatment of neurological conditions. But perhaps I should not be astonished, given its seemingly careless approach to depicting diverse narratives, such as those of Afghan characters. The likelihood of Casper, Jamila, and the others who depart ever reconnecting with their peers who remained behind seems slim, yet I harbor a glimmer of hope that the show might be grooming Jamila as the leader of the tween group. She is rational, devoid of the conflicts that plague Casper and Monty, and this series has already embraced the narrative of a woman president. Thus, Jamila ascending the ranks of the adolescent hierarchy appears plausible.
More grounded in reality is Aneesha's decision to abandon her family. I can stomach the critiques aimed at this storyline, considering Aneesha's evident devotion to her children, and because Luke carries a fragment of space metal that I'm convinced will play a pivotal role later. As much as I find the remaining Maliks irritating, I believe our journey with them is far from over. Yet, "Invasion" has been so immersed in anxiety, fear, and emotional turmoil until now that Aneesha's growth serves as a refreshing divergence. In that ambulance, she reinvents herself, introducing herself as pediatric specialist Angela Lockhart (did she pluck that name from the pages of an Agatha Christie novel?), to orthopedist Dr. David Barton (Noah Bean), who later assists her during a surgery. The jellyfish-like metal object Aneesha/Angela extracts from a patient's wound evokes "The Matrix" and poses myriad questions. Does this metal destroy us, transform us, or somehow expose us to the aliens? What is their ultimate agenda?
When we delve into the query, "What is their deal?", let us conclude our journey in Japan, where Mitsuki boldly re-enters JASA to sound the alarm once more regarding the enigmatic "Wajo" signal. Now, Hashimoto stands by her side, and she places her trust in him wholeheartedly, confiding in him about her intricate relationship with Murai and her relentless quest to unravel the mysteries surrounding the capsule. With linguists already present and the Americans soon to arrive in Japan, the stakes for Mitsuki have skyrocketed. Perhaps, if she can meticulously recreate the events pertaining to the capsule's communication system, she may finally uncover answers about who or what they encountered. Despite Hashimoto and Mitsuki's struggles to comprehend the aliens' "language without sound," they cling to the hope that the "Wajo" transmission signifies Murai's survival. I confess, this particular conversation left me somewhat perplexed, as I recall witnessing Murai and the other two astronauts being ejected from the capsule. Or am I meant to be aware of this fact and anticipate Hashimoto and Mitsuki's impending failure? Once more, "Invasion" falters in consistency when it comes to its extraterrestrial elements, rendering it challenging to discern truth from fiction. Instead, Jamila's sarcastic remark about Casper and Monty's burgeoning camaraderie perfectly encapsulates this scenario: "All the melodramatic tales you could ever wish for." If only "Invasion" could swiftly transition into its next narrative phase and perhaps tone down the relentless chaos, it would be most welcome.
