With “Inside the Bubble,” Scandal is just about back to the breakneck pace that we know and love. What’s less certain is whether all of the very many things transpiring here are as interesting as the show believes them to be. I’m thinking specifically of the revelation that Rowan arranged for the murder of Fitz’s son, and further, had Harrison and Adnan killed when it turned out they knew about it. Not only does this put us waist-deep back into a B-613 conspiracy, it puts us waist-deep into last year’s B-613 conspiracy, one that had appeared happily put to rest for a glorious moment there. Worse, it’s one that is pretty obviously and shamelessly designed to get Olivia back into Fitz’s arms. A long, drawn out, boring conspiracy storyline is one thing; it’s another thing when it’s engineered to revolve around the female lead’s love life.
The problem with this episode is that, even when performances are good, when speeches are good, when storylines themselves are good, many of them feel perfunctory, as though this is a season of Scandal: Color by Numbers. For instance, anyone get through any scene of David Rosen smirking and scheming with a straight face? It’s so obvious that his actions will lead to something terrible that when he gets the news that Judge Sparks has killed himself, the reaction is to roll your eyes. The entire plot is a massive cliché, and it’s incredibly on the nose to boot.
Or let’s consider the case of Jake, who in this episode kidnaps Quinn and locks her in room with Charlie, for him to do god knows what with or to her, so that he can get intelligence on Rowan. First, if I never saw Charlie on this show again I’d be thrilled—he’s an unctuous character who has by this point overstayed his welcome. But more than that, how are we supposed to keep rooting for Jake in this instance? Because he’s less of monster than Rowan? Now yes, all of these people are monsters, but that’s hardly the point—the show wants us to see Jake and Fitz both as white knights competing for Olivia’s heart.
Jake himself is such a milquetoast character, though, that it’s hard to get worked up about any particular action of his. He whines to Olivia about their relationship, in typical Shondaland-fashion, whenever it doesn’t proceed strictly on his terms, and lately, whining is all he seems to do. It doesn’t help that Joe Morton and Kerry Washington, his most frequent scene partners this episode, have such a clear command of their characters, while Scott Foley never seems to have gotten a foothold in his. What drives Jake beyond B-613 and Olivia Pope? If there’s anything else to him, the script doesn’t suggest it, and neither does the acting.
What works considerably better in this episode is everything going on the White House. Cyrus is still seeing his escort, Michael, unaware that Michael has been paid off by Liz. In some ways, waiting for the fallout here is as clunky and obvious as the Rosen storyline, but there’s still something sweet about Jeff Perry’s performance, the way he imbues Cyrus with a sense of longing, and that gives the story the extra kick of tragedy that it needs to work.
The best thing about “Inside the Bubble,” though, is the Grants, both of whom are absolutely killing it this season. Fitz’s explosion at David Rosen about gun control is mesmerizing and revelatory. “If I can’t go be a soccer dad in Vermont, then all of this has to mean something.” There’s the slightest hint in his outburst that he blames and/or resents Olivia for so much of what has happened—that if she had just run away with him, and not with Jake, his son would be alive and they would all be happy, even Mellie. That’s an emotional thread that adds some much needed depth to the character and his romance with Olivia, and it’s one I’d love to see the show pull out further.
And meanwhile, Mellie Grant plays dress-up as Olivia Pope. She becomes obsessed with the “killer cliff bride” story, collating data, running reports, and holding meetings to prove the bride’s innocence. This works on the obvious level—that Mellie blames herself for the difficulties Fitz is having in his second term, and wants to absolve herself from that blame. But that’s boring. She’s pretending to be Olivia Pope, and that’s what makes her scenes tonight so crazy compelling. She even talks to Abby and the assembled cabinet in that same clipped rhythm that Olivia uses during her various cases of the week. When the rug gets pulled out from her and her work goes to waste, her face falls and she locks eyes with Fitz, not because she can’t escape blame (the wife is innocent after all), but because she couldn’t be Olivia for him, not today, and not ever. That’s powerful stuff, and Bellamy Young and Tony Goldwyn both play that silent look with all the pent-up, repressed regret it requires.
All of which brings us to Olivia Pope, who is still wandering about Washington, looking for a purpose, when her minions have mostly scattered and filled her old roles. As the season settles into its groove, it addresses two main concerns. The first is plotty, the conspiracy around Jerry Grant’s death. But the second, and the much more exciting one for me, is the continued poking at and disintegration of Olivia’s gladiator armor. Scandal is explicitly questioning just how much of a hero Olivia is. Of course David Rosen’s plot is meant to examine her means and ways, but so is her rivalry with Abby, who accuses her of the ego-centrism that we’ve seen on display for three years and called “wearing a white hat.” The rift between these friends is a goldmine of interpersonal drama (“Ethically? You, the rigger of elections?”), but it will also be a useful tool going forward for examining Olivia herself. That’s where the real interest of this episode, and this season, lies.
Stray Observations:
– Abby’s face throughout Mellie’s “cabinet meeting” is a thing of cringe-y beauty, especially after Fitz arrives. Her scene with him afterward is lovely as well.
– The level of dirty talk and innuendo in Michael’s conversation with Cyrus at the bar is astounding.
– Case of the week: Penny from Lost plays Olivia’s friend from law school, who slept with her daughter’s boyfriend and lied about, and is now under arrest for the daughter’s subsequent murder. It looks as though this will carry into next week, since there’s no resolution here, but I didn’t catch the previews, so I could be hugely mistaken.
– Let’s talk about Quinn for a moment, because as gross as I found Charlie and Jake this episode, I can’t help but find Quinn a little gross, too. She plays these weird, psychosexual games, allowing herself to be seen as basically a rape-object and using that to manipulate men. I suppose that’s one kind of strength, but it feels icky to me (for lack of a better word).
Michael Wampler is a graduate of The College of New Jersey, where he completed both B.A. and M.A. degrees in English literature. He currently lives and works in Princeton, NJ while he shops around his debut novel and slowly picks away at his second. Favorite shows include Weeds, Lost, Hannibal and Mad Men (among many more). When not watching or writing about television, he enjoys reading, going for runs, and building his record collection.