Under the Dome review: “Black Ice”

It’s getting cold in Chester’s Mill. This is a big problem since evidently no one owns thick jackets, gloves, scarves, boots, or hats, but like all problems in Under the Dome, this one will be resolved by the end of the episode. “Black Ice” still manages to convey a real sense of desperation and tension, but is still ultimately unsatisfying because UTD doesn’t have the balls to kill any main characters.

At least it gets off to a good start. Everyone – Barbie, Julia, Junior, Pauline – is rightfully pissed at Jim for tossing the egg, and Mike Vogel does angry very well. One wishes he got the chance more often, but this show is more concerned with making him the hunky savior whose beard never grows too long (it wouldn’t test well with audiences). There were even a couple references to Stephen King’s novel, such as Hunter mentioning “Little Bitch Road” (which Joe puzzlingly says used to be the most entertaining part of Chester’s Mill, which, WHAT?) and the high school’s mascot being the Woodchucks. I appreciate these little nods, until I inevitably realize that this show has to include Easter eggs referencing its source material. Again, WHAT?

So everyone is holed up at the high school, doing random tasks. Barbie and Julia go to the Sweetbriar to find food, Jim goes to find fuel for the generator, and Norrie and Hunter continue this show’s streak of off-putting pairings that suggest an inappropriate statutory situation. Maybe I’m reading too far into things, but the way Hunter put his arm around Norrie was slightly creepy, and their faces were entirely too close when she told him that she’s glad he’s there. Oh, and Melanie is convulsing every now and then because somewhere in Zenith the egg is being fucked with, and I promise there’s not a single viewer who cares.

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(Also, I didn’t know where else to put this, but what was up with the near-fetishistic shots and mentions of Julia’s Prius? There were two close-ups designed to show its convenient charging port and surprisingly roomy trunk, and no one ever said “car,” they said “Prius.” “The Prius is fully charged,” “Take Julia’s Prius,” and so on. Was this paid product placement? If so, why? Who is unaware of the Prius? When people talk about hybrid cars, no one pictures a Volt, an Insight, or a Leaf; they picture the goddamn Prius, because it’s cornered the market. These are not the kinds of questions I should be asking myself during this show, by the way.)

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Barbie and Julia spend the whole episode getting shit on by director Jack Bender. First the ambulance flips cause Barbie doesn’t know to pump the brakes and steer into a skid. Then Julia gets a metal rod jammed in her leg, the car runs out of gas, the sunroof shatters, and Julia ultimately succumbs to hypothermia. Mike Vogel and Rachelle Lefevre have good chemistry together (probably because they seldom have scenes apart from each other), but this whole story doesn’t land because like I said earlier, UTD isn’t planning any funerals. (Except for Lyle; everything about that guy screams “next to die.”) Moreover, Barbie tries to comfort Julia by telling her he loves her, and they’ll make it through this, and they’ll have kids together. Barbie and Julia met about THREE weeks ago. Ladies, if a guy ever starts telling you this kind of stuff three weeks into a relationship, fucking RUN.

Anyway, everything works out. Julia is fine – like, totally fine; the only cosmetic damage done by the accident is a scratch on her cheek, because you gotta keep Rachelle Lefevre looking pretty – and Jim returns with Lyle and a can of gas, making this the 1,000,000th time Under the Dome has redeemed Jim. Oh, the dome is contracting by the way. Part of me wonders how they’ll solve that problem next week, but a bigger part of me knows that they will.

About Author

T. Dawson

Trevor Dawson is the Executive Editor of GAMbIT Magazine. He is a musician, an award-winning short story author, and a big fan of scotch. His work has appeared in Statement, Levels Below, Robbed of Sleep vols. 3 and 4, Amygdala, Mosaic, and Mangrove. Trevor lives in Denver, CO.

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