“We’ll remove your face ASAP, sir.”
Boy, this show just can’t stay away from “what is the nature of identity?”, can it? If it isn’t “what makes a man?” it’s “who am I, really?” overtly with Coulson’s struggle with his sardonic existential ennui, the Chronicoms’ effort to fit into human society to bend it to its whim, or Mack’s  shocker of self.
But let’s get into it, shall we?
I thought they were going to continue with the time-travelling era-specific opening credits homage to period-specific TV shows with Sybil showing the strands of time like the TARDIS flowing through the opening credits of Doctor Who, but we just got an old Season Five type treatment.
Not much to talk about this time around; it was practically a bottle show with the Lighthouse corridors, Nathanial Malick’s torture party, and the green screen being the only locations with a minimum of fighting and a maximum of talking. We did get a lot of information about the changing time stream; we’re now in a spot where Daniel Sousa has been plucked out of the timestream, Freddy Malick is dead, Mack never had a bicentennial cookout with his parents, and Daisy knows who Peggy Carter married.
Am I the only one who thinks “Mike Stevens,” the guy who talked Sousa through his wound was really Steve Rogers? And since Peggy says in Winter Soldier, “That was a difficult winter. A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German line. Steve… Captain Rogers… he fought his way through a Hydra blockade that had pinned our allies down for months. He saved over a thousand men, including the man who would… who would become my husband, as it turned out.” Doesn’t that sound like either Steve was always her husband, or that Cap talked Daniel Sousa through it but gave him a fake name? Or Sousa married her and the timeines are different all over the place?
Everybody is all excited about: “Dying? It’s kind of my superpower.” but I like the Spock/McCoy katra callback kind of thing when he radios to May: “I sure hope you’re right about this next part.” How cool, after all that stuff about never dying, they basically say Coulson’s digital consciousness will never die. I, for one, am just glad Coulson is Max Headroom, now, in 1982. I thought the closest we’d get to that was Arnim Zola. That shouldn’t cause any problems in the time-stream.
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