“You were my favorite thing, Peter. My very favorite
thing.” ~Walter to Peter
“It’s not about fate, Walter, yours or mine.
It’s about changing fate.” ~Donald/September
They
say nature abhors a paradox—and so does television. That’s why the story of
“Fringe”—the little paradox that could—is simply a phenomenal tale.
Developed
by “Lost” and “Alias” creator (and now “Star Wars” heir apparent) J.J. Abrams, “Fringe”
was created in the shadow of “Lost,” yet it eventually and unexpectedly cast its own amazing light.
And despite the fact that it didn’t fit any of the accepted and preconceived
parameters of what a primetime TV show should be about, the fact that it lasted
five tremendous seasons is testimony to a stellar cast and a development crew
that was dedicated to pushing the boundaries.
“Does it ever feel
like every time we get close to getting the answers somebody changes the
question?” ~Peter
“People die. It happens. Sometimes they even
die twice.” ~Walter
The
team at “Fringe” never expected a fifth season, so when they were accorded one,
they elected to treat it as a love letter to the fans who had stuck with them
since the beginning. That allowed a rarity in television—a show receiving bonus
episodes to go out on its own terms, and “Fringe” answered the bell, peppering
the final 13-episode season with déjà vu of old cases, buttoned-up storylines
and other stuff.
The
two-hour series finale was mesmerizing and emotional. The writers added so many
perfect little touches, none better than the Walter-Astrid exchange:
Walter:
“It’s a beautiful name.”
Astrid:
“What is?”
Walter:
“Astrid.”
The
show created so many iconic images: the laboratory, the white tulip, the bullet
necklace, hell, even Violet Sedan Chair. It harkened up memories of epic shows
ranging from “Star Wars” (the Observers’ leader, Windmark, was a dead-ringer
for Emperor Palpatine) to “X-Files” (with some natural Scully-Mulder connections
between Olivia and Peter, as Walter referenced by saying, “I don’t think there’s anything sadder than when two people are meant
to be together and something intervenes.”).
And sure,
it became obscure and difficult to follow at some points, what with Peter
becoming “weaponized,” jumping between universes and parallel doppelgangers. But
the overriding story arc was always omnipresent: the evolution of Walter from a
cold, clinical scientist to a warm, open healer. Actor John Noble’s ability to
transform Walter from institutionalized abuser of technology to father figure
to his team carried the entire series.
“I suppose I’ve learned that crazy is a lot
more complicated than people think.” ~Walter
By
the end, “Fringe” had become so much more than the “lab show” so many have
envisioned it being. At its core, it was a show about the true meaning of
sacrifice—and second chances. It was a show about defining love—and learning to
say goodbye to it. It was a show about embracing mental illness—and learning
what it means to be a father. It was a show about forgiveness—but also
worthiness.
The
absence of truly original programming on network television will make the loss
of “Fringe” even more difficult to overcome for faithful viewers. But such a
void is a small price to pay for the privilege of having been invited into the “Fringe”
universe.
Either one of them.
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