Castle is my favorite TV show. I’ve been watching since the 2nd season, straight through, “don’t bother me at 10:00 on Monday night,” without fail. That said, I was extremely irritated by the end of season six, robbing us, as they did, of the wedding they’d been building up to the entire season. I was irritated to the point of feeling foolish for caring, and I had decided to give them a chance to redeem themselves in the first few episodes and then cut it loose.
Now I have to say, after last night’s episode, I’m back in. Why? These actors are amazing. Whatever the writers do, whatever the directors do, whatever the producers do, Nathan Fillion and Stana Katic are so incredibly gifted at their craft that watching them perform is worth my time, all by itself. I have thought this before many times, but last night confirmed for me that the magic is not gone. One scene made up my mind; one scene that embodies everything I so admire about this show.
The background: Rick Castle was missing for two months and has returned with no memory of where he was or what he did. Originally the evidence led Kate Beckett to believe he left her at the altar because he got cold feet. They are discovering, however, that much of that evidence has been fabricated to intentionally mislead them. Castle is claiming innocence, but because he has no memory cannot offer any real proof that he did not do something bad. He followed one of their leads to a bank safe deposit box, where he found that he had left three envelopes addressed in his own hand, each containing a memory card, each containing a message to one of the three most important people in his life: his mother, his daughter and the love of his life (his words).
Here is the link on the ABC Castle page:
Look at Castle’s face on the video. He looks tired, he looks haggard, he looks convincingly like a man who believes he’s going to die. He loves her, there is no doubt. No doubt in his mind, no doubt in our minds, and no doubt in hers after she sees it. And then watch him watching her watch it, the heartbreaking fear on his face that she will leave him, that she won’t believe it, or that too much has happened and she can’t feel the way she did before ever again.
Watch her watching the video. She closes her eyes against the emotions that threaten to overwhelm her. What are those emotions? Anguish over his suffering and fear? Relief that his abduction had nothing to do with how much he loves her? Foreboding over what it might mean going forward? A huge range of emotion playing across her face without her speaking a word.
Then she turns to him, and sees his desperate, childlike need to know that it is going to be ok, that she still loves him, that she is not going to leave. She strokes his face, smoothes his jacket, and right away we know–it’s going to be ok.
I’m still on my guard. I still feel silly for getting so invested in a television show. I do, however, have my Monday nights back.
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