Written by John Wells
Directed by Alex Graves
“Will I be able to go home?”
“No, sir. Probably not.”
The raw, adrenaline-fuelled nature of last week’s season opener was replaced this week by human frailty. At first, it manifests itself as frustration and anger, as the peace talks between the Palestinians and the Israelies degenerates into hard-line stances, bickering, posturing, and principles sworn-to-God. It’s such machinations that have kept both the real world and Sorkinland’s Middle East on edge for decades, but it’s nice to see everything laid out for the uninformed, and the looks on the faces of the staff are priceless, as they watch their President battle against what appears to be the futility of history. They watch with incredulity as he strives for the impossible, but only his wife (in another dark, gorgeous moment of comfort in a quiet living room) truly knows the anguish he is suffering over his chosen course of action.
One of the most beautiful scenes comes in the dead-centre of the episode, as Islamic prayers counterpoint Jewish prayers at the dinner table. In voice over, Kate says it’s ironic just how much the Palestinians and the Israelies have in commmon: throughout history, and throughout the world, no one has wanted either of them. Poignant is too inadequate a word to describe this meditative moment of wonder and sorrow.
And then…just as a last minute deal is reached, which will lead to a troop commitment on the scale of Iraq in our universe, the relationship between Leo and the President finally crumbles. Their final meeting on the terrace, as both their professional and personal relationship unravels, in heart-wrenching. Aside from a brief loss of contol on the part of Bartlet, the dispassionate nature of their discussion makes it even more painful to watch. Their quiet, defeated muttering stands as the final testament to the state of their relationship…and their friendship.
Then Leo takes a walk in the forest…and we’re suddenly in Shakespeare territory.
That final act, alone in the woods, Leo at the mercy of God, nature, and his own emotions, defies description. I could feel the very trees themselves mourning what has come to pass for this man, who has suffered so much in his life. His collapse was more than just a heart attack: it was the weight of the world finally crushing him in its giant, unforgiving fist.
An episode terrifying in its beauty, The Birnam Wood stands as a glorious, haunting meditation on the awesome power of our emotions. It starts out slowly, but it becomes an unstoppable force by its end. Staggeringly gorgeous.
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