Previously on 12 Monkeys . . .
Dr. Cassandra Railly (“Cassie”) spent eight months in 2043/2044 where she did “horrible things [she] never thought [she’d] be capable of.” Whatever those horrible things were (beyond killing a guy in what was essentially self-defense), they changed her—and, as I mentioned in my review of episode 2.01, “Primary,” I doubt I’m going to like the new Cassie.
Last week I said she has become harder and colder, and that she kills without remorse—but what really bothers me about the Cassie 2.0 is that she is being such a bitch to Cole. It was getting to the point in this episode where her attitude towards Cole was so harsh that the reason we had been given thus far was stretching the credibility of her characterization change too thin.
However, just as I was planning to write a negative review of this episode, the real motivation for her change came out. Yes, she had grown colder and harder due to her experiences in 2044. Yes, she was now killing people without remorse due to those events in her life. Still, her time in 2044 isn’t really what changed her attitude towards Cole. That change is due to her blaming him for the death of her fiancé, Aaron Marker, at the end of the first season.
Aaron died after fighting with Cole in a burning building and getting trapped in the flames when a bookcase fell on him. Rather than attempt to free him from a fiery death, Cole convinced Cassie to leave him. However, Cassie’s new attitude towards Cole is not entirely because she blames him for Aaron’s death; it’s because Cole has shown mercy towards other “enemies” who he might have been willing to kill during the first season.
Cassie’s humanity in the first season changed Cole into someone who now tries to find an alternative to killing. Yet, Cole’s last inhumane act is part of the reason Cassie has now changed into someone who views killing as “part of the mission,” and she has grown to despise Cole for losing focus due to his new-found humanity.
Intellectually, I understand the change in Cassie. Yet, emotionally, I want the old Cassie back. I liked her. I don’t like Cassie 2.0. I want her to be as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside—as beautiful on the inside as she was throughout last season. Of course, from a creative perspective, my emotional reaction is the point of the change. The viewers are meant to shift our sympathies away from Cassie. We are meant to wish for the woman we grew to love last year.
And that, too, is the point of the change in Cassie this season: People change due to the experiences they have in life—not only due to what they have done, but due to what was done to them as well. None of us is the same person we were last year. Relationships end—perhaps due to divorce or infidelity or because the other person in our life moved away—but other relationships begin. Health problems arise—perhaps resulting in death or diminished capacity, or perhaps resulting in a prolonged recovery towards improved health.
Even people who did not experience a major life-changing event are not the same as they were a year ago. Minor events can be life-changing, too; they are just more difficult to view as the profound events that they are.
There are times when I think that the creators of the series don’t know where the story is going—not because they are improvising, but because they don’t understand the fundamental concepts upon which they are constructing the show’s elaborate plots. Yet, this notion of a “Primary” person who is connected to time intrigues me and gives me hope that there is a solid foundation that can support improvisational story constructions.
I’ll have more to write about the concept of the “Primary” in a future review. For now, though, I will have to end the discussion this week because time is my own enemy at the moment, and other obligations are demanding my ever-diminishing sand as it passes through the hour glass.