“What if Re'Atum decides my soul isn't worthy, and I am destroyed?”

Hamid may very well be superstitious.   I have no problem in believing that he is terrified of ghosts and curses.   But modern-day Egypt­ians don't worship the gods of ancient Egypt.         Hamid is probably Moslem.   No way is he going to be scared of Re'Atum destroying him “be­cause his soul isn't worthy”.   Allah maybe—if Allah damns him for being a graverobber.   Re'Atum no.

  As the crack in the lid opens, a bright light shines up from inside the sarcophagus.

Obviously, looking outside the secondary world of the story into the primary world of the TV production, this has been done for effect.   It is supposed to create a sense of mystery:   something supernatural is occurring.  But what?   What is causing this light to glow?   Remember, the seal of Re'Atum carved on the lid was broken when Hamid smashed the hammer down on it.   Presumably there was some “sun effect” inside the tomb up to that point.   But it is precisely because the seal was broken that Divia became able to escape, suggesting that any “sun effect” must at that point have stopped.   So why is the light shining?         The only possible rational explanation I can see is that Divia glows in the dark.

Scene 1:
Divia spies on LaCroix outside the Raven.

Fine.   A perfectly nice little scene that serves its purpose—mystification.

Scene 2:
The scene in the squad room.

  What is the import of Capt. Reese's story about Betty Ann MacKenzie?   Why is it here?

It has, I suspect, really been included for structural reasons, not because it involves mention of a sadistic female killer.         The first acts of Forever Knight episodes normally open with Nick and his partner at the murder scene.   Occasionally, we see them on their way there, or in the squad room before leaving (or, rarely, after coming back).   But it is unusual for an episode to open with a scene that does not involve Nick.   In a way, it would actually make more sense to ask why they decided to open the episode with LaCroix.   After all, they could have opened with the squad room scene, and combined the opener outside The Raven with the scene of LaCroix going through the club on his way upstairs to the scene with Vachon and Urs.         But they chose to do it this way.   Okay.   The ‘Betty Ann’ scene still has to be interpreted as standing in for the cops-at-the-crime-scene opener that we usually get.   Besides, it leads into Divia's anonymous crime tip.

  “Back in those days, that kinda sickness was reserved for the underground tabloid rags.”

Give me a break!   All news media report murders, especially sensational ones.   Are we seriously supposed to think that there was no coverage of Jack the Ripper or the Boston Strangler in serious contemporary newspapers?   There was:   that's easily checked.   This comment of Reese's is supposed to explain why Tracy has never heard of Betty Ann MacKenzie; but, as an explanation, it's clearly spurious.

  The timing of Divia's phone call.

Putting the phone call before LaCroix's conversation with Urs and Vachon gives the impression that it took the police a very long time to respond to her information that there was a body at the club.   I should perhaps point out that both the Raven and the station where Nick works are right downtown, so response times should be short.

Scene 3:
The scene in LaCroix's apartment.
We got so few glimpses of Vachon in the second half of Season III, still less of his friends.   So, on one hand, I was glad of any extended scene with them.   But I hated what was in it.   Nice to see the apartment above the Raven, though.

  “I had a nightmare of children with their heads cut off...”.

In the context of Divia's history, this seems to be some sort of prophetic dream.   Since when do vampires have this sort of psychic power?

  “...and when I woke up...there was a headless child standing over me.”

But Divia's not headless anymore, remember?   She's got her head back on.

  “I felt a presence....Something was here. I don't know what, but it was evil.”

This is the cheapest way to create a pseudo-atmosphere of doom!!   Literally.   No sets to build, no actors to hire, no special effects.         I know that vampires are apparently able to tell when another vampire is nearby.   But Urs didn't say that she felt that some uninvited vampire was trespassing in LaCroix's nightclub.   Her actual words were, “I felt a presence”.

Scene 4:
LaCroix finds the body in the beer fridge.
A very nice scene indeed—except for the interpolated flashback to the Tomb of Ayahotep.

  “Can you not feel another presence in here, Father?” “Yes!” “What do you feel?” “Evil.”

Apparently, LaCroix also has this mysterious power of feeling evil presences!

Scene 5:
LaCroix is interrogated.
I thought the actor playing Capt. Reese overdid it a bit; but that's between him and the director, and nothing to do with the script.

  “Course we'd have to read you your rights in that case. The charge is murder one.”

We are pre­sum­ab­ly supposed to believe that, in this day and age, a probable murder suspect is going to be grilled for some con­sid­er­able time without having been cautioned first.   Yet, as I'm sure you know, if LaCroix had admitted something incriminating during this interrogation, it probably could not have been used in court, just for lack of their giving him his statutory caution.   Not very professional—and not very believable.

Scene 6:
Tracy talks to Vachon in the car park.
This scene opened really well; but once they got into the car to talk, things got strange.

  ”Well, there was something there.   It was a presence.   It felt evil.”

And now it is Tracy who is feeling evil presences!

  “Evil's a part of you”/“It's in you; I can feel it; and it scares me.”

This comes totally out of the blue.   Tracy has never been scared of Vachon at all, in any way.

  “Give me a call when you get home.”

So, first she says she's scared of his inherent evil; and then she asks him to give her a call.   Does this make sense?         Anyway, why does she want him to check in?   It makes her sound like his mum.   (It makes her sound like my mum.)

Scene 7:
Divia attacks Vachon.
I particularly like the way Vachon at first approaches with caution, but is betrayed by his own decency.   Of course, this is kind of at odds with Tracy's as­sert­ion, just moments before, that evil is a part of him.   An evil guy who stops to help girls who are sobbing in the street.   Yeah, right.

  The preliminary scene in the car park.

Clearly Divia has been tracking Vachon.   The red hue of the scene of him getting out of Tracy's car in the police parking lot indicates that she was observing him with her vampire night vision.  But this does not explain how she knew that he'd be there, given that she was watching LaCroix at the Raven after Vachon left.

  The alley setting.

But, okay—she's picked up the trail.   Yet she doesn't attack him in the parking lot; she doesn't fly after him and tackle him mid-air; she somehow gets ahead of him, and lies in wait in an alley.   What alley?   Why is Vachon landing there?   And how does she know that he'll be landing there?

  And why attack Vachon?

I realize that, from the writers' perspective they're using this as a way to kill off the character while simultaneously demonstrating how nasty Divia is.   But, within the story, what is Divia's reason for attacking Vachon?   He is, when you come to think about it, no more than one of many vampires who frequent the Raven.         It is, I suppose, possible that Divia concludes that he's a friend of LaCroix's from seeing him at the Raven during off hours.

Scene 1:
Reese tells everyone what the Egyptian police have said.
A few minor points:

  “Egyptian police came back with a positive on the name of our fridge-crasher.”

With the Egyptian police mentioned in initial position, the rules of sentence formation indicate that they are ‘old information’, i.e. contacting Egypt is old news.         Who had the idea to contact the Egyptian author­ities?   And why?  International IDs usually take forever, since police check their own fingerprint banks first.   If Hamid's body had had Egyptian ID on it, the Toronto police would already know who he is; and the only information they'd need from Egypt would be his background.   But it is clear that it is the name that is the ‘new information’ in the sentence, because the name is placed in second position.   (New information comes after old information.)         So if Nick et al. didn't know who the corpse was, how and when did they find out that he was Egyptian so that they knew to contact the authorities there?

  The Egyptian police report on Hassim's story.

According to Reese, the Egyptian police have told him that Hassim Karam lost radio contact with Hamid, and then searched the tomb and found only blood. But what is their source of information? Are we supposed to believe that Hassim reported his brother as a missing person?   Tomb-robbing is a serious crime in Egypt.   People certainly do it; but they don't go reporting the fact to the local police!         Okay: maybe, when the inquiry came through from Canada, the police questioned Hassim and it was only then that he told them this highly improbable sounding story of his.   But, if I were a graverobber apparently mixed up with a murder (even the murder of my own brother), then the last thing I'd do is talk to the police at all.         Let's face it:   the only thing the Egyptian authorities are going to find in the Tomb of Ayahotep is Hamid's blood.   Logically, from their perspective, Hassim is going to be the likeliest suspect.   Surely, therefore, even when his brother turns up dead in Toronto (of all places), he is going to keep mum about Hamid's mysterious disappearance from the tomb, lest their illegal activities be assumed to be involved in the murder.

  “You see, we're not the only ones wondering how the hell an Egyptian national skips town—presumably dead—and winds up a day later in a Toronto beer fridge.”

One day?!!   Do you realize what Divia is supposed to have achieved in this mere twenty-four hour period?   She killed Hamid, somehow got out of Egypt and across the Atlantic to Canada (without getting caught by the sun), found LaCroix, figured out that he was the owner of a nightclub, got herself some spiffy new clothes, and worked out her revenge on him, including finding out all about his relationship with Nick.   Oh, and she also learned idiomatic, unaccented Canadian English.   I grant you that she presumably assimilated Hamid's knowledge of the twentieth century (though that would not include any knowledge of LaCroix); but even so!   That was one very busy young lady.

  “Oh, come on! There has got to be some kind of a rational explanation for this.”

But no one has suggested that Hamid's death might be supernatural or crazy.   Decapitation is, after all, a natural death.   Unusual, but perfectly natural.   And they simply haven't yet found the reason for the curious disposal of the corpse.   So why does Natalie protest?   Nick isn't playing Mulder.   Why's she doing her Scully routine?

Scene 2:
The scene in the holding cell.
This scene really serves only as an intro to the flashback to the Tomb of Ayahotep.   Nevertheless:

  Our first view into the cell.

We first see the other prisoners in the cell.   There is quite a long line of them, huddled on the bench at the back.   All are leaning away from LaCroix, some in a fetal crouch.  All are looking at him in terror.         Now, I like the idea that he is able to intimidate the other prisoners:   if any of them tried to take liberties, he would certainly not tolerate such impudence; and, as a vampire he has the ability to stop them.   However, this sort of ham staging may go down just fine in a sit-com, but it's the sort of thing that led one friend of mine to describe this episode as “cheesy”.

Scene 3:
Flashback:
Divia introduces LaCroix to the Tomb of Aya­hotep.
And tells him, of course, her account of killing her own master, Qa'ra.

  “The tomb of Ayahotep.   Chief priest of the Pharoah Akhnaten, the son of the sun god Re'-Atum, Lord of Heaven.   Or some such nonsense.   His is the middle one, flanked by two other priests.   Or so the people believe.”
        “Why have you brought me here, Divia?”
        “It is him. My master. My true father.”

Divia's wording here a bit odd.   Her first words refer only to Ayahotep and his tomb.   As a result, when she starts to talk of “him”, it sounds at first as though Ayahotep must be the vampire who brought her over.   Of course, she quickly names her master as Qa'ra, and then says that he lived before the pyramids were built.   Clearly Qa'ra is not Ayahotep.   But that just makes this a rather muddly-worded passage.

  “Qa'ra.   Said to be among the first of our kind.”

An Egyptian vampire—or at any rate a vampire with Egyptian connections—who was “among the first of our kind”.   Oh, that is just too, too Anne Rice.

  “Staked.   Scorched by the sun.   Then interred....”

Talk about overkill!

  “...with the symbol of the sun god to imprison him for all time.”

How, exactly, does the sun-seal imprison vampires?         I ask, because the seal does not, apparently, stop either Divia or LaCroix from touching the lid of the sarcophagus.   Not only is this implicit in Divia's putting Qa'ra inside (and later LaCroix's putting Divia herself inside), but we actually see them put their hands on top of the lid.   Not on the seal itself; but they do put their hands on the lid.   So it's not that they somehow levered it up and lifted it indirectly with ropes:   they can definitely touch it.         Given that the seal is carved only on the outside of the lid, what is to stop Qa'ra (or Divia) from touching the lid on its inside surface, where there is no seal, and forcing it up in order to escape?

Scene 4:
Urs visits Vachon.
Maybe, in having the actor fling himself around the room, the director was simply trying to overcome the problems with the hopelessly inadequate script.

  “Men, women...and children. Especially children. I see them killing...and being killed.”

Uh-huh. And what else would Vachon be killing but men, women, and children?   He's a vampire!!!   He sees them being killed?   Well, gee whiz!   He's done a fair bit of killing himself down the centuries!         Okay.   He apparently can't stand the sensation of pleasure associated with the killing.   But, as we know from previous epi­sodes, plenty of vam­pires have no trouble enjoying kill­ing; and, al­though Urs rejects this, we have not so far been told that Vachon also objects to enjoying killing.         Is it specifically the pleasure in killing children that troubles him?   He does, after all, mention children twice.   This would make more sense, given that (according to the Season II episode, “Can't Run, Can't Hide”), even LaCroix apparently has scruples about making children his victims.         I realize that Vachon is supposed to be having trouble putting his pain into words.   But never mind vague—this speech is unforgivably trite.

  “I see her visions.”

Visions?   What visions?   Divia has visions?   “I see her memories”—now that at least makes sense.

  What did Divia do to Vachon to have this effect?

Like Nick later on, Vachon was bitten and slashed.   The slashing was done with Divia's fingernails; and we've never been told that vampires' fingernails have special properties.   But vampire bites are sig­nif­icant.   Having said that, though, the properties of vampire bites do not correlate with what is seen here with Vachon.         In vampire lore generally (and specifically in previous episodes of the series), a bitten mortal becomes a vampire, at least if they've been drained to the point of death.   Experiencing some­one else's memories is associated with the “biter”, not the “bitee”.   In “Francesca”, for example, Nick got the violinist's memories when he sipped the man's blood.   Vampire lovers may also bite each other to share memories:   this happens in “Francesca” too.   And since, when someone is brought across (as in “Dead of Night”), they drink their master's blood, it is reasonable that they would imbibe their master's memories.         So it makes sense that Divia would have drunk Vachon's memories with his blood.   But how come Vachon has Divia's memories?   If the attack at the end of Act One is looked at carefully, it is clear that he did not at any time bite her.

Scene 1:
Nick listens to the radio.
This scene falls into three parts:   LaCroix's Nightcrawler speech, his memory of Divia in Pompeii, and Divia's on-air phone call.   But the frame for all this is, of course, set in Nick's apartment, since he is listening on the radio.

  What is Nick doing in his apartment?

Given that we have the whole of the rest of the episode to go, all of which takes place the same night, it is presumably the middle of the night at this point, which means that it is the middle of Nick's shift.   So what's he doing at home?   One possible explanation—of sorts—is that he's gone home for lunch.   Tracy presumably has either brown-bagged it, or she's ordered take-out; Nick flies home for a quick drink.   (He is seen with a bottle.)         But, of course, this isn't the real reason.   Nick is really home because the writers want at this point to have him listen to LaCroix on the radio.   And they don't want him to do it in the car, because they intend to link this scene directly with the attack on Urs.

  From where is LaCroix making his Nightcrawler broadcast?

We know from “Black Buddha” that LaCroix broadcasts from “a little booth in the back” of the Raven.   So, presumably, that is where he is during this scene.   This means, of course, that the police must have released the Raven for its owner to resume occupancy.         Yet a headless corpse was found on the premises.   To say the least, that is the sort of case that hits headlines—which is to say that it is not the sort of case where the forensic investigation is going to be scamped.   No way is LaCroix going to be broadcasting from the Raven the same day the body is found!

  The historical flashback.

This is stock footage from “A More Permanent Hell”.   It does, of course, provide us with a memory of Divia before the eruption of Vesuvius, at a time when LaCroix still thought of her as his lovely in­no­cent daughter.   Unfortunately, it is not a scene that shows us the girl she was, only the cold-hearted vampire, smiling enig­mat­ically, and then turning away from her devoted Dad.         Of course, there were no scenes of the pre-vampire Divia; so I guess they were a bit limited in their choice.   Given budget considerations, especially at the end of the season (and with the show cancelled), they blew what money they had on Ayahotep's tomb.   They were in no position to make a Roman set as well.

Scene 2:
The attack on Urs.
Though also framed by the scene in Nick's apartment, the attack actually takes place in the elevator.

  Why was Urs targeted?

This is basically the same question as the one I asked about Vachon; and it can really only be answered in the same way.   The writers saw the character as expendable.

  Why did Urs die?

Yes, I know Nick gave a spuriously simple (or simple-minded) explan­ation at the end:   Urs was a very young vampire.   No argument...but...why did she die?   What did Divia do to her?         This is actually a surprisingly difficult question to answer.   Even going through the fight frame by frame doesn't help much.   It is really just a series of single frames plucked from the fight from various angles.   They are pretty blurry, and it's hard to make out what is going on.   However, as far as I can tell, Urs was beaten and slashed to death.   She doesn't seem to have been bitten.

Scene 3:
Tracy goes to see Vachon (Part I).
A better scene than the corresponding one of Urs's visit to the church.

  “You said you knew who the murderer is.”

The cop in Tracy coming out?   Vachon is obviously in agony; and her previous words have all been concern for him.   Against this ex­plan­ation, however, is the fact that she im­med­iately drops the subject of the murderer.   If she had gone into cop-mode, her dropping the subject doesn't really make sense.         Or is this in here merely to explain why she went over to the church?   Against that, however, is the fact that she heard him scream over the phone.   And, as her first words were about his well-being, presumably her concern for him must have been at least part of the reason she went.         One possible reason she brings the matter up is that she wonders if the murderer might be the one who attacked Vachon—presumably to prevent him telling the police who it was.   But, if that is why she brought the subject up, it's certainly not clear.

Scene 4:
Nick discusses Urs's death with Natalie.
A short scene, and not one that particularly sticks in memory—which is odd when you consider that it closes the act.

Scene 1:
Nick tries to find out from LaCroix who Divia is.
This attempt is actually presented in three pieces, which frame the two flashbacks.

  How can the scene be set at the Raven?

Obviously, my first criticism of this scene simply has to be the setting.   Just as LaCroix would not be allowed back so soon into the club in order to broadcast from there, so equally he would not be allowed to open the club for business (and it clearly is open, since there are people in the background).         The joke is that, for this one episode, they built a set in LaCroix's apartment above the club.   They could have filmed the scene between him and Nick on that set.   This could easily be justified, for, even if the police told him not go back to the Raven after they let him go, it would be quite possible for LaCroix, as a vampire, to get back into the building if he wanted to.   And it would certainly be in character.   He would undoubtedly think it outrageous for a bunch of mortals to presume that they could order a vampire to stay out of his own home.         So I can see him going back to the apartment above the Raven.   But they didn't use that set; instead they used the regular nightclub set.   And showed patrons of the club in the background, to boot.

  The dialogue.

I have no quarrel with the actual sentences uttered by LaCroix and Nick.   If, however, you read the dialogue yourself (as opposed to hearing it enacted, with great skill, by two very good thespians), it becomes apparent that there is a lack of coherence.   It simply doesn't flow.         Let's look at the first part of the scene, before the flashback to events at Pompeii:

NICK:     Who is she?   The young girl, LaCroix—what is she to you?   (pause)   What is it?

LaCROIX:     ‘It’?   ‘It’...is something I have never told you.   Something too painful for even me to discuss.

NICK:     She said you go back a long way.   Did you bring her across?

LaCROIX:     You're still listening to the show—I'm flattered.

NICK:     Urs is dead.

LaCROIX:     You see what my young friend is doing?   One by one, people around me will be killed, till I am left alone...and as isolated as I left her.                             [He surveys the room.] The word is out.   Being in LaCroix's company can be fatal.   She will kill all of you, because of me.

NICK:     (uncertain)   Because...you brought her across.

LaCROIX:     No.   I did not bring Divia across.

NICK:     Then who is she?

Now, look at this speech closely.         Nick first asks who Divia is, and what she is to LaCroix; but, before Lacroix has a chance to either answer or evade the questions, he adds another, rather more obscurely worded, “What is it?”         “What is ‘it’?” would be my immediate response!   What ‘it’ is Nick referring to?   The ‘it’ of the headless corpse; the ‘it’ of the attack on Urs; the ‘it’ of the mystery girl on the radio—the question, so much vaguer than Nick's first ones, could refer to any of these, or to all of them.   The situation generally?   Perhaps.   But I suspect that the real reason for the vague question is that it is the appropriate wording to lead in to LaCroix's answer, “‘It’ is something I have never told you”.         As for the first question, “Who is she?”, Nick repeats it at the end of the section.         Once LaCroix's clever evasion of “What is it?” has been given, the logical thing for Nick to say is, “But that's no answer.   ‘It’ may be too painful for you ever to have told me about it before; but I have to be told now because she—whoever she is—has come to Toronto to threaten you”.   But, in fact, Nick does not follow up on his question, pursue LaCroix's evasion, or even return to his first question, “Who is she?”   He may, admittedly, be sneaking up on that question, by referring to what Divia said on the radio, following this with the question, “Did you bring her across?”  But, by quoting Divia, he allows LaCroix a digressive comment on the fact that Nick is still listening to the Nightcrawler broadcast.   This may perhaps be interpretable as an attempt by LaCroix to divert Nick's attention, though the actor's intonation does not suggest that this is the intention.   But, in any case, Nick does not call him on it.   Nor does he avoid confrontation by instead finding yet another oblique way to sneak up on the question of the mystery girl.         Instead, out of left field, Nick tells LaCroix that Urs is dead.         Urs's death is, however, the lead-in to LaCroix's next little set piece, “One by one, people around me will be killed...”.   This is a speech, and rather a nice one; but speeches have to be set up; and the writers have used Nick's reference to Urs's death as the set-up.         The speech is followed, a bit awkwardly, by Nick's asking yet again whether LaCroix brought Divia across, and then asking who she is. At which point he gets his answer to both questions.

If we look at this section structurally, we see therefore that it really falls into two parts.   First, we have a set up for LaCroix's line, “‘It’...is something I have never told you.   Something too painful for even me to discuss.”   And second, we have a set up for LaCroix's speech, “One by one, people around me will be killed...”.   Between these two set pieces, we have a cute comment from LaCroix on Nick's still listening to the Nightcrawler show, and we have Nick telling LaCroix that Urs is dead.   Twice Nick asks who the mystery girl is; twice he asks if LaCroix brought her across.         Repeated questions could, of course, be scaled as ever more emphatic refusals to accept LaCroix's evasiveness.   But the questions are not presented in this way, and the evasiveness is never so identified.   Instead, the section simply comes across as disorganized.   Kind of bitty.   Nice lines, badly presented.         In short, it looks like a first draft.   First drafts—I speak from my own experience, and no doubt yours is the same—are often badly organized, especially in long complicated scenes.   People in real life digress (as LaCroix does, in commenting on Nick's listening to his show), go off at tangents, suddenly remember things they ought to say, and repeat themselves.   A large part of revising dialogue involves cutting out the digressions, twisting the tangents back on path, and snipping out the repetitions.         I'm not going to go in this sort of detail through all the sections of Acts Four and Five that look like first draft material.   But the rest of the dialogue between Nick and LaCroix in this act, and the dialogue in the fight scene between LaCroix and Divia in Act Five both show all the signs of being hasty first drafts.

Scene 2:
The historical flashback to Pompeii.
This is more stock footage from the episode “A More Permanent Hell”.

  The location of the scene within the episode.

The juxtaposition of scenes is very awkward here.   Ordinarily, flash­backs of this length would occur in different acts.   As it stands, though, there are two long historical scenes back to back, separated only by a few lines of dialogue.   They dominate Act Four, severely slowing the action.   The scene in the Tomb of Ayahotep, of course, is logically the last of the historical flashbacks, since it is the last chronologically.   It follows that the scene in Pompeii should either have been omitted or put somewhere earlier in the episode.

Scene 3:
The historical flashback to the Tomb of Ayahotep.
Very exciting!   I especially liked the way they actually showed us the beheading, by doing it in shadows on the wall.

  “We are free...to do everything that is forbidden”/“Let us do what must not be done.”

These lines present hints and generalities to intimate to us that Divia wishes incest with her biological father (and vampire son), LaCroix.   However, the wording is awkward.   We all know that it isn't really “everything“ forbidden that Divia wants here, it is LaCroix.   And we know that she really has in mind only one very specific act that “must not be done”, namely making love to him.   In fact, moments later she says so quite explicitly, in clear English:   “Make love to me, Father,” she says; “Daughter.   Mother.   Lover.  Why can't I be all three?”         She needs either to be written as coy or written as direct, but not both simultaneously.

  Why have Divia murder her master?

Why was this put in?   To show how deeply Divia appalled La­Croix?   But her at­tempt to persuade him to incest is, in itself, pretty appalling.   And then, of course, LaCroix also seemed pretty upset by all that talk of bathing in blood.   Divia's speech about vampire freedom to do everything forbidden certainly demonstrated her unregenerate evil.         Perhaps the writers intended irony:   Divia killed her master, LaCroix killed her; and Nick once tried to kill LaCroix.   Though, actually, this smacks less of Egyptian mythology than it does of Greek:   Kronos killing Ouranos; Zeus killing Kronos.   All I can say is, if this was the idea, it certainly wasn't made clear.

  How did Divia regenerate?

There is a real problem with LaCroix's striking off Divia's head.   It was beautifully staged; but, no matter how dramatic it may have been, it totally contradicts everything in the series about beheading killing vampires.   Divia is being presented as a sort of übervampire, a vampire-killing vampire, a “new sort of vampire” as Natalie puts it.   She's a boogeyman vampire.   She slashes other vampires to death.  She bites them into hallucinations.   She grows her own head back on, and survives two millennia in a tomb.         Dear, oh dear, oh lawssake's alive!   This is cheesy old stuff indeed.

Scene 4:
Tracy's visit to Vachon (Part II).
The dramatic close to the act.   Very touching—if you aren't distracted by one little, tiny problem.

  “There's a wooden stake in that box.   Over there.”

I could hardly believe my ears.   And I'm talking the first time I saw the episode back in 1996.   Who on earth keeps a wooden stake in a box?   What possible reason could a perfectly sane and happy vampire have for keeping such a thing around?   (Anyone who says that, in “Last Knight”, we learn that Nick also keeps a stake around is missing the point of the “sane and happy” bit.)

Scene 1:
Nick catches Reese up on the case.
Yup.   Nick really was back home in the middle of his shift just in order to turn on the radio and find Urs dead in the elevator.  Here he is back at work again.
        The scene was included, of course, so that Reese could tell Nick that Tracy had gone to see a snitch.   We all know that the “snitch” is always Vachon—and Nick knows this too.   So this sets up the next scene, which is the ‘real’ one.

Scene 2:
Nick sees Tracy with Vachon's corpse.
A touching little thing.

  “I'll take you to Screed. You can be with your friend.”

How does Tracy know exactly where Screed's grave is?   She wasn't there when Vachon buried him.   (Okay, okay.   Sometime be­tween that episode and this one, Vachon took her there.   Right?)

Scene 3:
Natalie compares herself to Tracy, and warns Nick to be careful.
What can I say?   Nick seems to have paid absolutely no attention to her warning.

Scene 4:
Nick hears sounds while in the elevator.
A little mini-scene that is really only the intro to the big scene in the loft.   However, the director took the opportunity to slip in yet another cheesy moment.

  The light dims ominously as Nick goes up in the elevator.

Why?   Does Divia affect lightbulbs?

Scene 5:
Divia's attack on Nick.
Wonderfully exciting stuff—though I do wonder a bit just why the girl keeps slashing people with her fingernails when she intends to finish them off by biting them.
        Did you notice that the painting Nick collapses onto at the end is a stylized picture of the sun?   A nice touch.   A very nice touch indeed.   (It may seem as though I have nothing but criticisms of this episode; but actually there's a lot about it that is very clever.)

  When Nick comes in, the fire is burning in the fireplace.

This may seem a minor point; but it happens in other episodes too, and it always gets me.   It's dangerous to go out and leave the fire burning unattended.   (Of course, it may be that Divia put it on.)

  Divia's clothes.

This is the first time we get a good clear look at Divia.  Boy, does she look sleekly dangerous in that black leather outfit with the boots!   One sight of her would put anyone on their guard.   Nick cer­tain­ly had a very wary ex­press­ion on his face all through her speechifying.         Frankly, if I wanted to take someone by surprise, I'd try to look harmless—as Divia did when she ambushed Vachon in Act One.

  Why doesn't Nick defend himself?

Given that he knew she was going to try to kill him, why does he just stand there, waiting?   And, when Divia does attack, why does he make no attempt to defend himself?         I realize that she is being presented as preternaturally strong and fast.   But then, so is Nick—and, more pertinently, so is LaCroix.   He is literally within months of the same age as Divia.   By the twentieth century, such a tiny difference in a two-millennia life should be close to irrelevant.  Yet Nick cannot stand against Divia's attack, even though he has in the past fought LaCroix to a standstill.         Before she attacks him, Divia does suggest that Nick not attempt to defend himself, since his death will be faster that way.   So one possibility that might be considered is that he is simply letting her kill him.   I doubt that the writers actually want us to believe this; but it is a perfectly logical possibility.   Or would be—except, of course, that he later goes after her to save LaCroix.

Scene 6:
Divia's attack on LaCroix.
The big climax.

  “If I didn't know better, I would say that you had grown, my dear.”

But he hasn't looked at her.   I have no problem with the idea that he knows she's present; but I draw the line at his knowing her height without even looking in her direction!         One might argue that Divia's ‘growth’ is sup­posed to be meta­phoric (rather than an attempt by the scriptwriters to account for the young actor's growth since her appearance in “Ashes to Ashes” the previous year, should any viewer notice a difference).   But, if one should take the reference metaphorically, what is it a metaphor for?   Maturity is the usual association.   However, Divia hardly seems more mature in thought, emotion, or action.

  “Your friends, lovers, daughter, mother...and now your son.”

This is the third list in the show.   First, Vachon told Urs that he had visions of the deaths of “men, women, and children”; then Divia told LaCroix that she could be “daughter, mother, lover” to him.   Now this.         Oh, yes, and in that list, what of those “lovers”.   Who are they?   If the daughter and the mother on the list are both references to Divia herself, then a lover might be another reference to her; but “lovers” is plural.   Did she think Urs was his lover?   But then, who are the “friends”?   Vachon counts only for one.   Urs would count for two—unless she's a lover.   Or is she counting for both?         Or is this a really dumb list?

  “You and—as they say—whose army?”

Where did she learn this phrase?   From drinking Hamid's blood?   Divia speaks fluent, idiomatic, unaccented Canadian English.   Where did she learn it?

  “Damnation, when I come to think of it, is a fitting sentence for your crimes.”

But Divia wants to see LaCroix in pain.  If he's dead and damned, she won't be able to enjoy his suffering.   Mind you, I think at this point she's past logic.         Of course, what is really going on here is that the writers are setting up the sickle scene.

  Where'd Divia get the sickle from?

I know it's the one LaCroix used on her.   I don't mean that.  I mean:   where's it been all this time?   It's far too large for her to slip it into a pocket; and she hasn't had it in any of the earlier scenes.   Nor have we had one of those flight sound effects to suggest that she just nipped outside for a moment to pick it up.

  “Perhaps your resurgent goodness was all that was needed to defeat Divia's evil.”

From LaCroix?!!!   I'm not even going to com­ment on the in­ad­equacy of this as an ex­plan­ation for Nick's survival.   It's no explanation at all.   Ditto on Vachon and Urs being “too young to deal with it”.   All the supposed explanation explains is why one survives rather than the others, not how he survives—which is dependent on first understanding what it was that Divia did to the vampires she attacked that had such a profound effect on them.

  “Urs's body?”   “I've had Natalie take care of that.”

The things that poor woman does for Nick!   Now she's disposing of corpses.

  “Vachon once told me [Tracy] was a Resistor.   But I've seen you work around that.”

Maybe Nick has, but we haven't—at least, not unless this is a reference to LaCroix hypnotizing Natalie in “Be My Valentine”.   But there is no specific reference (such as a bit of stock footage from that episode); and the scriptwriters have no right to assume that all viewers have seen that show, which wasn't even in the same season.   This looks more like yet another ad hoc band-aid measure.

  “I may even say a prayer.”

For some reason best known to themselves, the writers decided to have LaCroix say this.   Now, I thought it had been pretty well es­tab­lished that LaCroix scorns re­lig­ion.         In the event, Nigel Bennett said the line with considerable irony.   I don't blame him.