4x03 – THE HOUSE ALWAYS WINS

“The House Always Wins” is quite simply one of the series’ weakest two episodes. Its best elements only passably work. After going to such great lengths to construct a mythology for the show where future and identity are matters of action and personal responsibility, the idea that someone’s destiny can be boxed up and sold as though it were some cheap physical commodity strikes me as problematic. It’s not as though the core idea is insipid, since the idea of human lives being traded as commodities is a legitimate consideration in our society, and it’s not that it doesn’t fit well in a season which primarily considers questions of fate and choice and whether or not we even have free choice, it’s that it’s unconvincingly executed.

Like most messes on AtS or BtVS, this episode is structure solidly and pops off enough entertaining jokes to keep it moving. These are the few passable elements. But the episode as a whole is muddled and unconvincing. The Gang decides to go to Vegas to work off their stress and get Angel a reading from the supposedly-now-famous Lorne. I get the joke: Gunn has, somewhat inexplicably, had an ongoing thing about going to Vegas, and I have to admit I enjoyed his enthusiasm about the trip. However, it doesn’t seem likely that Angel would so easily abandon Connor and his grief for Cordy, neither of which are addressed in the episode with any weight.

Angel is a passionate, sensitive, and sometimes frighteningly obsessive man. It doesn’t make sense for him to so quickly and emotionlessly accept what’s transpired with Cordy and Connor, even if he believes Cordy is happy with her ascension, and his son is safe. Angel would worry more. In the teaser he watches Connor fight, and whispers pointers on fighting from afar. If he’s concerned about making his son stronger, then why simply leave? After an entire episode of obsessing over Cordy (Ground State), why does she receive barely any mention? And another thing: if Angel Investigations is so financially in the hole, where are they getting the money to go on a road trip from, and why is Gunn not reminding Angel that they’re so deeply in the hole? Guess he really, really likes Vegas.

Once in Vegas, two storylines play out: the theft of Angel’s destiny, and Lorne’s escape from the clutches of Lee DeMarco. The plot contrivance is that Vegas tycoon DeMarco steals people’s destinies, and he uses Lorne to psychically “read” audience members at Lorne’s own concerts to pick out the best destinies to steal and sell on a black market; “futures trading” the gang muses. Both stories are deeply flawed. They’re united by this plot contrivance, which I’ll tear into later. The first story fails to develop anything interesting or new, while the second is a shoddy mess.

Lorne’s story, the first to be discussed, fails to grab interest. Though entertainingly played by actor Andy Hallet, who radiates charisma in every frame, the character of Lorne has never been terribly compelling. In S2 he made a good showing, but has failed to play a strictly relevant role since then. Many of the uses for his unique ability (reading people) as a storytelling device have been good, some of them great, even. In S2 in particular, he could not only tell people their destinies, but did so regardless of whether they were human, demon, saint or Nazi. As someone who was truly impartial, he was indispensable as a truthsayer. This made him essential to Angel’s development in S2.

In S3 he began to slump after the destruction of his club, barring one exception: his discovery of Wesley’s plan to steal Connor in Sleep Tight. This discovery was key to making the betrayal by Wesley so powerful, since Lorne reading him made it necessary for Wes to commit physical violence against a member of Angel Investigations. That action underscored Wesley’s betrayal in a powerful way, and for that, we have Lorne’s role on the show to thank.

Now detached from his club and the role of advisor to Angel, Lorne has basically taken the form of comic relief and lackey. He whines in the background about doom and gloom when it’s coming and dispenses some wisdom when needed, but that’s about it. His basic character reacts to emotional circumstances, but never undergoes any major changes. S4 continues the unfortunate trend of doing very little with him; Lorne has been held prisoner for months, subjected to beatings and forced to witness cold blooded murders when he refused to co-operate with DeMarco’s plan. And despite being put in a desperate and horrid situation in Vegas, Lorne comes out of it no different.

Given Lorne’s love of people and cheerful attitude, you’d think he would come out of the experience with new insight and/or major trauma, but the writers do nothing with his character yet again, which is a particular shame since Vegas show-business is essentially his dream life; to have his dream so horribly twisted should be ruinous to him, yet no consequences follow. In keeping with the episode’s central of theme of fate and fortune, we could say Lorne simply had some bad luck when he arrived in Vegas and some good luck getting out of it. There’s not much more to say. DeMarco is plain and cliché as a money-motivated psycho and was just as unnecessary as Lorne’s entire storyline.

On the other hand, Angel’s story in this episode at least attempts to glean some genuine insight, but fatally wounds itself along the way by bungling how the concept of destiny is handled. Angel wants to be read by Lorne to get back on his path, feeling as though he’s lost his sense of where he’s going. Given everything that’s happened since late S3, that’s a fair point for the writers to make about Angel. His speech about being a champion in Deep Down aside, he feels disoriented enough that he wants someone else to help guide him. Going to Vegas is symbolic then: it’s a place he hung out during his aimless, wandering years, and now he hopes to find direction there.

The episode’s main metaphor is that seeking your future in Vegas is a damn dumb idea. What would you get in Vegas if you struck it big? Early retirement, a vacation home, a college fund for your kids. Unfortunately, you’re more likely to be outright stolen from than rewarded. Vegas is a place where you can lose your entire future in the blink of an eye. Gambling is essentially about trusting in a random bout of fate to reward you, so it’s always a risk. It’s not a bad place for Angel to go to find a new path considering this thematic point, even if the writers chose a bad time to take him there. My major, philosophical problem is with the idea that a destiny can be boxed up separate from the person who possesses it.

It can be reasonably argued that people have “destinies” inasmuch as what they do now will necessarily lead to something else later, and to that precise extent, they are destined to come to whatever will follow from the effects their actions have. Simple causality: an effect will follow from a cause. When Skip reveals Jasmine’s master plan in 4x17: Inside Out, this is the phenomenon he describes: causal factors having been manipulated to bring certain events to fruition. No doubt an omniscient being like Jasmine could manipulate causal factors to suit its needs.

This episode, however, contradicts the causal idea of destiny as well. The causal idea of destiny assumes real world circumstances impacting individuals: their environment, their relationships, and most importantly their actions. Angel would not be who he is today without the people he’s known and the places he’s been impacting his life, let alone what he’s done. How can that simply be boxed up? This episode’s idea of destiny is that it’s a magical fate, a transportable, metaphysical object handed down from on high that can be tossed from person to person like a football. This goes directly against what the show has done previously and especially against what it will do later this season.

Angel is Angel as a direct result of the specific experiences he’s had and the things he’s done, so the only way to give someone else his destiny would be to make that person into Angel in every conceivable way, down to where he lives and who he knows. Lorne points out that even absent of his destiny, Angel still retained his core self and was able to fight for his friends. Does this mean the episode means to say they are not part of his “destiny”? That there is something core to being a person that is separate to whatever shapes our “destiny”?

I don’t buy that at all; to say his friends aren’t a part of his destiny is to say human relations don’t play an important role in a person’s development. Additionally, Skip’s revelation to the gang about their paths having intersected over the past few years, and that intersection’s necessity to everything that happens in S4, directly contradicts what’s being said in this episode. Angel heroically jumping forward to save his friends even though he lacked a destiny was supposed to be the episode’s rousing climax, and it was supposed to make a dramatic point about who Angel is: he’s still a champion. That’s the path he should focus on.

At least I think that’s what the writers were trying to say. The message may also be that we have to personally choose to take action, regardless of our destined paths. But doesn’t that contradict the idea of being inescapably destined for something? But that would mean you didn’t choose it, you were destined to do it. Clearly that can’t be the message if the writers are trying to make a statement about personal choice. If you buy into the causal idea of “destiny,” some reconciliation of personally chosen action and fate can be reached, but as I already said, this episode doesn’t think of destiny that way.

The only message that comes through clearly is the metaphor about gambling, which is hardly an impressive or bold idea. Angel’s storyline attempts insight about him as a character, but all the metaphysical nonsense surrounding the handling of destiny as a concept completely muddles whatever point might’ve been gleaned. Nothing really changes. In the end, all the episode really comes up with is that: though Angel is out of sorts due to everything that’s happened recently, he should stick to his friends. The series has reached this conclusion before and in more profound and interesting ways (S2’ main arc, for instance). So this entire thing ends up being pretty much irrelevant. The gang picks up Lorne and finds Cordelia. Episode over.

Perhaps the best scene in the entire episode was a small bit off to the side where Wesley is coordinates with his new demon hunting crew, and clearly states he has no qualms taking clients from Angel Investigations. In another fun and twisted momen with Lilaht, he further demonstrates how he’s been letting go of his emotional restraints through his relationship with her (see the quotes below).

So while this episode isn’t all wretched material like some of BtVS’ worst, or like Provider, it’s such a shoddy clutter of characterization and thematic work that its score couldn’t help but be dragged down this low. Much like Lee DeMarco himself, it never elicits a sense of danger or excitement, in part because DeMarco as a threat to the characters is so bland, but even more so because of the episode’s standalone structure. As an audience, we would know that there’s no way this out-of-the-way road trip plot would carry on for more than one episode, so we’d know there would be no way the writers would sign over Angel’s destiny to a villain-of-the-week for any duration of time, even if they came up with a quality idea about how and why destinies can be won and lost (see: Not Fade Away).

• Even though she’s ascended, Cordelia does not seem all-powerful like a higher being should be. It takes a lot of effort for her just to intervene at the slots, suggesting even at this early point that her ascension was the fake deal Skip reveals it to be in 4x17: Inside Out.