Underneath, the first of Angel’s final six episodes, brings us what could very well be the archetypal Angel story: a meditation on a dark subject, explored through alternating uses of powerful philosophy & drama, as well as outrageous violence and humour. In this respect, Underneath is certainly a template for the series.
For an hour, Angel explored something that was almost a throwaway idea way back in season two’s Reprise (and something Angel himself alludes to with a mention of Holland Manners, who told him that L.A. — and by default, the real world — was hell). But rather than give us the old fashioned look at hell, Underneath goes out of its way to explore many different versions of hell, and they all work for the purpose of the story.
First, we see the ultra-serious, personal & internalized hell. Wesley’s hell is walking around and talking to him — the living embodiment of his dead love, in the new shape of Illyria. While I’m not sure this branch of the episode played all that well into the mix (it was very VERY dark, almost an episode in itself), it did have the amazingly pointed comment from Illyria about nightmares — which once walked the Earth — now being confined inside the heads of humans…and her musing about who they must have angered to have condemned themselves to such a fate. In essence, from Illyria’s point of view, not only do we make our own hell, we carry it around in our subconscious forever. This was powerful stuff, to be sure…but I think it deserved an episode in itself.
Much better were the more amusing hell explorations of the rest of the cast, whether it be Spike’s inability to list hell dimensions aside from fire and ice, or Lorne’s personal alcoholic hell at the bar. Then there’s suburban hell, something The X-Files once tackled amusingly, but was done about a billion times better in this episode.
A complete nightmare of conformity, Aryanism, muzak, manicured lawns and giant two-car garages…except for the basement of horrors where every time you go down for a lightbulb, you’re horribly tortured in a manner that would have made even the priests of the Spanish Inquisition squeal in terror. Lindsay’s hell world was creepy indeed…only to be trumped by Gunn’s exchange of himself for Lindsay, and his self-condemnation to this hell as atonement for his part in the death of Fred. We’re getting on a terrible roller-coaster ride of emotion at this rate, and the look on Angel’s and Spike’s faces as they realize they have to leave him…now that’s devestation for you.
There’s also some lovely social commentary thrown in, simply because Angel’s writing team can get away with it. Everyone in suburban hell pulls out a semi-automatic rifle when things go pear-shaped…and even the small boy starts unloading on our heroes. I could point out all the gun-toting, violent video game/television watching American cultural standards being poked and prodded here, but it isn’t necessary…the images are pointed and disturbing enough.
Finally, Lindsay provides the coup of the episode, leading Angel to the revelation of why Wolfram & Hart offered him their L.A. offices: the Apocalypse IS coming, and given the prophesy involving Angel, all of this is a distraction to keep him from playing whatever pivotal role he has. The ultimate irony is that W&H is trying to hurry up the arrival of hell on Earth, yet they have successfully sidelined Angel in the process…to say nothing of the fact that he’s down, as Lindsay smugly puts it, “two soliders already”. Will we see Gunn again? With Cordelia and Fred already out of the picture, what does Angel have left? The season is certainly firing on all cylinders.
A final comment on the performances — starting with David Boreanez and James Marsters, who have created the most amazingly funny, irritating, and wonderful-to-watch television double act since Fraiser and Niles Crane. What they haven’t realized is that they’ve been avoiding the issue that they’re family, and the end result is a pair of beautiful performances. To say nothing of their hilarious screams as they are exposed to sunlight, only to realize they are not on fire. 
Kudos as well to J. August Richards, who’s (perhaps final?) appearance as Gunn is simply heartwrenching. Finally, the episode’s funniest moment — Lorne, Harmony and Eve girly-screaming together as the new W&H liason puts a fist through a security guard — is worth rewinding for at least a dozen times.
So Underneath is Angel in a nutshell. God, I’m going to miss this show!
