In honor of tonight's episode, I studied up on patron saints and found that St. John Bosco, the patron saint of editors, said that visits to the Blessed Sacrament are powerful and indispensable means of overcoming the attacks of the Devil. Make frequent visits to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament and the Devil will be powerless against you. I translate that to mean that wine and cookies will keep me out of the path of the Devil, and so I start tonight with a glass of my favorite comfort wine and a bag of Hazelnut Pepperidge Farm cookies. Oo-de-lally!
In the opening, we delve deep into Lt. "Bubba" Gerard's torment, as he has recurring nightmares in which he relives his first wife's last moments under water. Jerked awake, he fumbles out of bed in grey boxer briefs and splashes water (oh, the tragic irony) over his face to rid himself of his night demons. Keeping the running water sound, we are transported to Maine, where Kimble is washing his face with a hose. Black-and-white flashbacks to last week's episode, where Kimble received the information that One Arm was after some guy, "Harry," who just closed up a local bar and was fixin' to leave town. Oddly enough, Kimble finds himself in front of Harry's closed place and goes in to chew the fat. At first, Harry resists telling Kimble anything, and there's a flashback into Harry's past showing Ol' One Arm shaking Harry into a limp rag and demanding money. Kimble explains to Harry that he owes One Arm money himself, and once Harry realizes that Kimble has "less than friendly intentions" towards One Arm, he gives Kimble a New York address. He tells Kimble to "give him one for me" and wishes him luck. "You're going to need it," Harry mutters as Kimble walks out. He doesn't need luck; he's The Fugitive.
Kimble stands on a pier in Queens, looking at Manhattan across the East River. The camera sweeps Manhattan, showing us the United Nations building, the Chrysler building, et cetera, just to prove that we are actually in New York, if only for those three seconds. Kimble enters a seedy hotel, where hookers and drug dealers abound. If so many people owe this guy money and he has such a way of getting it out of them, why the hell doesn't he get nicer digs? He pushes open a door -- which just happens to be unlocked, naturally -- and spies the remnants of a shell game: bent cards and cigarette butts. He pokes around the room, pulling open drawers, finding a Gideon Bible, and pawing through trash until he comes across several empty syringes. He carefully wraps them in brown paper. Yes, yes, we can all see what will come in successive episodes: Kimble, with the help of his wily Internet buddy, will get those syringes to a lab where the DNA can be identified. Yawn -- next plot device, please. After this particular looting of One Arm's room, Kimble manages to get out of there before the occupant returns.
Next scene is Kimble in a place called "World Wide Cuppa Joe," and under that on the sign is "Dot.com," and under that (if you didn't get the Internet idea ground into your brain enough with all the incomplete terms) is "Internet Coffee Bar." Gee, do you think you can surf the Web here, or should we find something further on down the street? Black-and-white flashback to Krakow telling Kimble that he set up an email account for his fugitive friend. But Kimble doesn't check to see if RKOTG@aol.com has any mail. He checks out www.drrichardkimble.com. How smart is it to pull up a blown-up mug shot of yourself when you are a) a wanted man and b) standing at a public computer terminal surrounded by people? I won't nitpick the fact that, instead of just clicking on a hyperlink, Kimble does a lot of unnecessary typing to get to the message boards page. Oh, look, I just did. I guess having the sound effects of typing on the soundtrack is more important to the writers than portraying reality. Once on the message boards page, our fugitive sees the newsflash "Kimble's Dad on deathbed" scroll across the top of the page in all caps. Somewhere in Chicago, Lt. Bubba sees the same thing. I went to the website -- it's not really there.