After two densely plotted episodes that set the stage, "The Umbrella Academy" eases up on the accelerator for "Extra Ordinary," and it's a welcome change. The series truly shines when it delves into how the Hargreeves siblings' enviable childhood superpowers have etched scars on their adult psyches, and episode three is a rich tapestry of these repercussions.
The narrative unwinds with Vanya, the lone sibling without supernatural abilities, who made waves by penning a tell-all memoir about her Hargreeves upbringing. The motivation behind her act remains murky, save for a cryptic dedication in her father's copy: "'I figured, why not?'" Yet, regardless of Vanya's intentions, the aftermath of her book's release must have stung. We witness a montage of dwindling sales, and increasingly desolate book signings, painting a picture of a woman shunned and forgotten amidst the grandeur of her family's public persona. Five years later, Vanya finds herself relegated to a shabby apartment, a victim of her own betrayal, albeit justified or not, and with no tangible reward to show for it. Perhaps her true superpower is the art of invisibility.
The ripples of Vanya's decision permeate the core narrative of "The Umbrella Academy." Diego's contempt for her lingers, and even the compassionate Allison, momentarily weakened, lashes out. But Allison carries her own cross. Her superpower—the ability to reshape reality with a mere utterance—is a double-edged sword. It undoubtedly catapulted her to global fame; after all, who needs an audition when you can simply declare yourself the lead?
Yet, this gift is also a crushing weight. As an adult, Allison is just beginning to grapple with the fact that her entire existence is a construct of manipulation, leaving her adrift, unsure of her true identity and purpose. And the shadows cast by her power run deeper still. She confides in Luther that her daughter was taken away after authorities uncovered her use of her abilities to quell the tumultuous aspects of parenting: the tantrums and meltdowns. But when you erase life's rough edges, how much of the journey do you ultimately forfeit?
At the opposite extreme stands Klaus, who is inextricably bound to the darkest recesses of existence. Even for mortals, the ghosts of loved ones lost often linger, haunting memories. But Klaus's abilities transform this intangible sorrow into a tangible nightmare. His deceased brother's visage haunts his every step, a relentless specter of an irreparable loss. Even the sanctuary of a soothing bath is invaded by the screams of the departed, leaving him no respite. Thus, like countless souls grappling with grief, Klaus seeks solace in alcohol and drugs, numbing the relentless ache.
Yet, amidst the heaviness of childhood scars, the episode's most poignant revelation is also its most profoundly human. A fleeting glimpse into the past uncovers Diego's struggle with a stutter, tenderly alleviated by his "mother," Grace—a robot with a heart of gold. This raises intriguing queries about Grace's essence: Did the tenderness and affection she exuded stem solely from Dr. Hargreeves' programming, or were they a reflection of his own untapped warmth, masked by his icy exterior?
Irrespective of the truth shrouding her origins, it's undeniable that Grace is faltering in the present. Allison stumbles upon a video, its contents chillingly suggesting that Grace may have been responsible for Dr. Hargreeves' demise. However, the truth, when it surfaces, is less nefarious yet equally unsettling: As Dr. Hargreeves grappled with a heart attack, Grace stood frozen, either indifferent or incapable of comprehending the gravity of the situation. It's a haunting parallel to witnessing an aging parent's battle with dementia, leaving the children lost and uncertain of how to navigate this unfamiliar terrain.
Emboldened by this fresh intel, the siblings convene, their minds abuzz with the dilemma: sustain their 'mother's' existence or terminate it? However, their familial council is abruptly hijacked by Cha-Cha and Hazel, stealthily infiltrating the abode in pursuit of Five. The climax of another breathtaking combat sequence - Umbrella Academy, oh so fond of its bloody ballets choreographed to lively pop tunes - sees Cha-Cha and Hazel escape, Klaus unceremoniously tucked in their car's trunk.
This fierce encounter culminates in a stunning revelation. A plummeting chandelier rends Luther's sweater, baring not just skin but a revelation that stuns all: beneath lies the form of a colossal, primate-like physique. (More mysteries to unravel, it seems?) Luther's simian transformation is a shocking twist, sending both him and his siblings spiraling back to their awkward teenage years. Mere seconds after narrowly escaping a deadly assault from ruthless assassins, Luther, mortified by his exposed secret, resorts to a timeless teenage tactic: flight, followed by a solitary confinement in his room.
This leaves the episode teetering on the precipice of yet another question: Grace's fate. As Diego ascends the stairs, he discovers a startling indifference: Grace, oblivious to the tumultuous battle raging mere floors below, tranquilly puncturing her synthetic skin with a cross-stitch. Diego, once the staunchest advocate for preserving their mother, deciphers the unspoken message and, tears streaming down his face, makes the heart-wrenching decision to deactivate her, even as she attempts, with her characteristic gentleness, to assist him with his stutter for one final time.
It's a decision fraught with pain, but also a testament to Diego's unforeseen maturity. Perhaps, after all, the Hargreeves siblings are finally growing into their full potential.
