This week's episode stands triumphantly as the pinnacle of the season's offerings, even if it indulges in a cyclical narrative. The series, prone to the rut of reverting to the familiar, predictably brings our ensemble back to square one (spoiler alert: right where they left off last week). Yet, "Science/Fiction," helmed by the visionary duo Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead, grants the filmmakers unprecedented creative freedom, embracing a storytelling deconstruction that imbues this installment with a profound moodiness and ample space for the characters' souls to soar. While thematic repetition might evoke groans, the sheer clarity and depth of this episode's execution render such repetition a pardonable indulgence.
Last week's explosive cliffhanger, with the Time Loom disintegrating into a blinding white abyss, left audiences hanging. But little did we know, the TVA had merely survived its initial brush with destruction, consigning Loki to a desolate existence, wandering its deserted halls amidst the eerie silence of vanished comrades. His solitary steps echoing through the void poignantly capture his profound isolation. Ironically, when Loki's reality starts to glitch again (or, as he'd term it, 'time slipping,' reminiscent of the season's inaugural episode), his frustrated cry of "No, no, no, this is NOT happening again!" resonates with viewers yearning for any direction but a return to the past.
Fortunately, the TVA's inevitable fate arrives, its fabric stretched thin by temporal radiation, succumbing to a "spaghettification" akin to Victor Timely's tragic end. However, Loki escapes this grim destiny, bouncing between alternate realities where the show's supporting cast leads mundane lives, their memories of the TVA erased. Hunter B-15 is reinvented as a New York physician in 2012. Casey becomes a fugitive inmate, fleeing Alcatraz in 1962. Ouroboros struggles as a struggling sci-fi writer in Pasadena, 1994. And Mobius, now "Don," inhabits a life he once dreamed of in modern Cleveland, only to discover it's a bittersweet illusion. A family that once was, now shattered by divorce, and two unruly sons (Laramie, a particular scourge) turning his world upside down. His one solace, Jet Skis, becomes his professional purgatory as an overzealous salesman struggling to make a sale. This fantastical odyssey paints a vivid tapestry of life's unexpected turns, defying expectations and enchanting audiences with each twist and turn.
One by one, Loki mesmerizes his audience with his incredible, almost unbelievable tale, weaving a web of urgency that all existence hangs in the balance. Yet, we are privy to this drama's depths solely through the lens of Ouroboros and Mobius. In Ouroboros' realm—a haunting stage eerily echoing Loki's TVA workshop, disguised to an uncanny degree—the meticulous unfolding of their conversation serves a dual purpose: swiftly establishing the episode's sci-fi intricacies while stripping them down to their fundamental elements, compelling Loki to delve into the "why" behind his relentless time-hopping endeavors, seeking a way to break free.
However, as Loki embarks on his mission to persuade Mobius, the scene lingers, savoring every moment. Its essence lies in etching the emotional stakes: the idyllic lives these alternate personas have crafted and the cherished connections they've forged. Loki's entreaty for Mobius' departure, coupled with the promise of revisiting any point in time unscathed, resonates hollowly as Mobius replies with a heart-wrenching truth, "Yeah, but I will," marking one of the series' most poignant instances.
While the episode primarily dissects familiar motivations and dynamics, offering no groundbreaking revelations about the characters, its cinematic finesse grants Loki (and later, Sylvie) the platform to verbalize these long-held sentiments, lingering in their depths for extended periods. This introspection, deeply valuable, commences with the opening frame, where Loki's haggard silhouette trudges through the TVA, his exhaustion palpable in the blown-out highlights of the imagery.
Scenes linger longer than they have throughout the season, yet they pulsate with a newfound urgency as 'existence' takes on a tangible, visceral form this week. It's about living, experiencing the full spectrum of emotions—loss, love, frustration—sometimes all at once, as Mobius does. The very thought of tearing him away from this existence, be it new or a reincarnation of his past, feels excruciating, even if it ensures his sons' survival.
With the TVA temporarily sidelined, Benson and Moorhead are unleashed from the shackles of the shared universe, indulging their creative whims to the fullest. The episode's deft use of jump-cuts, masterfully executed by editor Calum Ross, stands out as a wicked yet wondrous touch, signifying the passage of time in a way that feels like we're slipping and glitching alongside Loki through the fabric of time itself.
The visual storytelling in this episode is rife with humor, meticulously crafted from Benson and Moorhead's mirroring of Loki's flailing antics with the inflatable tube man outside Mobius' workplace, to the hilarious juxtaposition of Loki's sprawled-out stance during time-slip mastery, resembling Da Vinci's iconic Vitruvian Man amidst a circular backdrop. This playful nod subtly hints at the episode's fundamental building blocks, unraveling the essence of human form and drama in parallel.
Ouroboros' role transcends mere scientific assistance; it delves into the emotional underpinnings that propel Loki's journey. Rather than relying on sci-fi logic, Loki's solution—reuniting with his loved ones—stems from a heartfelt imperative, emphasizing the necessity of emotional fulfillment. In this regard, the show's narrative kinship shifts from the likes of 'Doctor Who' to the later seasons of 'Lost,' where intricate sci-fi narratives intertwine with poignant mysticism, amplifying emotional resonance.
The show's penchant for meta-commentary is well-established, particularly in its exploration of continuity. However, the season finale's treatment of Kang's discourse on predestined scripts serves a more pragmatic purpose, positioning plot elements for future MCU endeavors. While 'Science/Fiction' similarly maneuvers to restore the status quo post-Time Loom explosion, Loki's conversations with Ouroboros and Sylvie—before her timeline's devastating erasure—pierce through the plot's machinery, compelling Loki to confront his true motivations: saving his friends to avert solitude.
This emotional rollercoaster sees Loki vacillate between accepting their mundane lives and abruptly reversing course, fostering a somewhat underwhelming dilemma. Yet, Loki's devotion to his loved ones is undeniable; this season has showcased a more altruistic, protective version of him. Verbalizing these feelings ignites a powerful motivation, magically harnessing his temporal abilities to reverse fortune when all seems lost. This deus ex machina, even for a deity, jars with its abruptness but is buoyed by Tom Hiddleston's emotionally raw performance, making the logistical leaps palatable.
Ultimately, the journey's true treasure lies not in the mastery of time travel but in the bonds forged along the way, a testament to the power of human connection.
