The 25 Best (and Five Worst) Angel Episodes

**warning- contains spoilers**

Picking the best episodes of "Angel" is even harder than choosing the cream of the crop of its sister show. Even though it boasted some major arcs, it got across a great deal of story and character movement even in its most inconsequential of episodes. But some are just great even by the standards of the show. Below is a list of the finest hours of one of the best shows ever made.

25. Orpheus (4x16)

As great as Faith was in "Buffy," her limited appearances on this show pushed her character farther than she went in a full season. Her return as a recovering villain hell-bent on saving Angel even at the cost of her own life was the true conclusion of her story. The personal risks Faith takes to save the only person who ever believed she could reform is touching and harrowing, and her story provides a nice juxtaposition to the hilarious take of Angel's tortured recollections that forces Angelus to revisit the heroic deeds of Angel, much to the demon's outrage.

24. Waiting in the Wings (3x13)

"Waiting in the Wings" is one of the more unlikely hits of the series, but then when Whedon's name is attached, you shouldn't be surprised by greatness. The neverending ballet serves as one of the better metaphors for not only Angel's struggles but with his budding feelings for Cordelia, which first start to manifest with this episode. It also marks the first TV appearance of future Whedonite Summer Glau. Everyone wins.

23. Spin the Bottle (4x06)

"Angel" was much darker than its parent, which was dark enough as is, but occasionally it boasted moments of pure Whedonesque glee. "Spin the Bottle" stands up to the very funniest of "Buffy's" romps through silliness. Angel turns back into a young adult in the 1700s in the middle of present-day Los Angeles, Fred a timid pothead, Gunn a solitary street warrior, and we get a glimpse back into the early personas of Cordy and Wesley. There are far too many great lines to even begin to list.

22. Underneath (5x17)

An unrelentingly dark look into the hell that is modern suburbia seems like a total aside after the events of the two episodes preceding it, yet it plunges the characters even further towards their inevitable conclusion. It’s hard not to get chills when Gunn takes Lindsey’s place at the end as penance for his role in Fred’s death.

21. Home (4x22)

The end run of Angel’s fourth season seemed hell-bent on ruining everything; it was so bad that Tim Minear came back after a full season off to pen this stunning, wrong-righting finale that moved the show in a completely unexpected direction. The way Wolfram & Hart perverts the Fang Gang’s victory over Jasmine is the first truly sinister thing they’ve done since Season 2.

20. Power Play (5x21)

The episode that finally completes the theme presented in “Reprise:” that in the grand scheme of things good and evil give way to the simple question of power. On the surface level it’s a brilliant exercise in constant misdirection as Angel moves into darker territory before he finally reveals his plan to the team. But the questions it raises about the true evil of the world pushes this over the edge of a fun episode into a classic one.

19. You're Welcome (5x12)

Cordelia’s arc in Season 4 almost made me abandon the show for good. Even in the great episodes of the season the undercurrent of her possession and the acts she commits made me want to throw my TV away. But this one episode rights almost everything by bringing Cordy back for only a fleeting moment to help Angel get his life back together and to send her off in a surprising yet affectionate way.

18. Sleep Tight (3x16)

One of the most Shakespearean hours of TV I’ve ever watched. Not only is Wesley a tragic hero, but Holtz turns into a true villain after a season of moral ambiguity through his subversive manipulation of both Wes and Justine in his single-minded obsession with revenge. The final scenes where Angel can only sit in anguish and Wes lies half-dead in a hospital is perhaps the most haunting moment of the entire series.

17. Sanctuary (1x19)

I’ll be honest, I struggled on whether to include this or its predecessor “Five By Five.” Ultimately, I came down on the side of this because Five By Five contains the bulk of its excellence to its final gut-wrenching scene while this is transcendent throughout. It juxtaposes Faith’s desire for redemption with Angel’s and proves to be one of the most thematic episodes of the series. Oh, and the philosophical discussion that accidentally spawns from a question about a microwave is both deep and hysterical.

16. Deep Down (4x01)

After the insufferably derivative and hollow Season 3 finale “Tomorrow,” Angel needed a rebound to make the ten seconds it took me to switch discs in my DVD player worth it (to say nothing of the poor sods who had to wait months between seasons). Happily, “Deep Down” fires on all cylinders; it presents some of the darkest developments to come along since “Reprise” and rewrites the thematic focus of the show once more to fit the season ahead. Shame that the season itself so completely failed to deliver.

15. Somnambulist (1x11)

Both Buffy and Angel had their share of standalones that were distant from the seasonal arc but still got across a great deal of development, yet this underappreciated gem inserts its character insights so subtly it almost seems like a throwaway. Penn serves to remind Angel (and we the audience) that his past will always come back to bite him and why perfect happiness eludes him.

14. Are You Now or Have You Ever Been? (2x02)

Quite possibly the most richly metaphorical episode of the series, AYNOHYEB? points to the direction Angel would take later in the season via an entrancing series of time jumps and a dark mystery. The main focus of the episode is fear and how people respond to it. Some of the allusions include xenophobia, racism, the Red Scare, and how these fears can influence a mob. The fact that Angel decides to relocate the gang to the site of his most terrible deed (post-soul, of course) is the biggest display of how he always keeps his demons on his mind.

13. I Will Remember You (1x08)

Yes, it’s melodramatic. But people need to stop equating melodrama with bad acting. IWRY is a devastating episode that teases Angel, Buffy, and us with the possibility of happiness before brutally pulling the carpet from beneath our feet. That Angel would sacrifice his chance at a life with Buffy to help her fight down the road is inspiring, and the final moments of their time together is heartbreaking thanks to SMG’s and Boreanaz’s stellar acting.

12. City Of (1x01)

Just about the best pilot you could hope for. It wastes no time introducing Angel and Cordy to this new world and tweaking their characters to fit it while keeping to their established traits, presenting us with a new character (Doyle), and laying down the fundamental themes of the show. The thematic direction of the series shifted often in brilliant ways, but the immobile core was formed here.

11. Destiny (5x08)

It’s been a long time coming, baby. The fight between Angel and Spike gets right to the core of their relationship, and the fight itself is the best in the series. It also tackles what it means to be a hero. The twist following the battle tops the whole thing off with a big laugh.

10. Smile Time (5x14)

Do I really need to explain this? The most brilliantly crazy concept in the Whedonverse (yes, it even beats out Hush and Once More, With Feeling for pure zaniness), “Smile Time” doesn’t have any real emotional highs or lows (apart from the pure elation of Fred kissing Wes at the end), but it’s such a bellyacher that I chuckle just thinking about it.

9. Epiphany (2x16)

The episode that preceded this, “Reprise,” was a cataclysmic affair philosophically and thematically, and “Epiphany” rebuilt the show out of the spectacular ashes. It reverts the themes of the show to those outlined in “City Of” while never backtracking. As terse and brutal as “Reprise” was, the idea of suddenly putting pieces back together in one episode seemed like an avenue to contrivance, but “Epiphany” is every bit as deep.

8. Reunion (2x10)

As I get closer to number one I’m finding it harder and harder to rank these. The number next to “Reunion” says 8, but it’s really tied for third or fourth. Wolfram & Hart gets their biggest victory over Angel by re-siring Darla, and it unleashes a being we’ve never seen before, one neither Angel nor Angelus. Wolfram & Hart were always trying to turn Angel, but they got more than they bargained for here. Though I’ve only watched the series twice, I’ve sat down with this one several times, and I still gets chills when Angel utters “And yet somehow, I just can’t seem to care.”

7. Lullaby (3x09)

I feel that Darla’s arc is somewhat overlooked by many because she was never a title character. However, hers is perhaps the most understated evolution on the show (after Fred's pre-Illyria days, of course), and her decision to sacrifice herself rather than lose her newfound love for her unborn child is deeply affecting. The juxtaposition between this touching selflessness and the cruelty both inflicted on Holtz and the cruelty he inflicts is one of the more cinematic touches of the series.

6. Darla (2x07)

I admit it, I’m a sucker for a Buffyverse flashback (the only ones that are actively bad are the retconning bores in “Heartthrob”), and the crossover smash “Darla” (it syncs up with Spike’s flashbacks in “Fool For Love,” only from Darla’s perspective) features my all time favorite looks into Angel’s seedy past. Equally as exhilarating is Angel’s desperate (and doomed) attempt to save Darla from herself which starts ramping up the show’s penchant for noir moods. This style would hit a high after Darla’s re-siring, but here it effectively builds tension for their plight.

5. Shells (5x16)

In the wake of Fred’s death, the Fang Gang is maybe as devastated as we are, and widens the scope of issues covered by its predecessor. Surprisingly, it packs almost as much emotional impact as AHITW with the revelation that Fred’s soul died with her, proving that Joss' series are so well-written, I can identify with them even on a surface level. Angel and co. took over Wolfram & Hart seemingly without consequence, but this was fate’s way of catching up.

4. To Shanshu in L.A. (1x22)

After a first season of disconnected rambling (which had its pros and cons), Angel stunned us all with an abrupt move into something bigger. Angel finally snaps out of his rut and the revelation of the Shanshu prophecy would loom over much of the rest of the series. Yet, until the fourth season at least, the prophecy never got in the way of the personal tale of redemption. A shockingly epic 42 minutes of television.

3. Reprise (2x15)

“Reprise” is the deepest hour of TV I’ve seen. If the thematic foreshadowing and complexity of Buffy’s “Restless” was a subtle dreamscape, “Reprise” is a sledgehammer to the forehead; it tears down the epic themes of “To Shanshu in L.A.” with the blunt admission that evil can never be triumphed over because it exists even within the good. Tim Minear made his mark with the Beige Angel arc, and here he proves himself to be the finest writer Joss ever hired, and the only one who makes me as excited to spot in the credits as Joss himself. Rarely has a series (much less a single episode) so curtly laid out the nature of the world for all to see.

2. A Hole in the World (5x15)

I’ve never put stock in any awards; most are motivated by a desperate desire for ratings and star coverage and the rest are just the industry’s way of patting itself on the back. Yet the fact that Alexis Denisof and Amy Acker didn’t nab Emmys for their heart-wrenching performances shows just how clueless some people are. It starts out with a hilarious and deceptively insightful debate over Cavemen vs. Astronauts (the answer is astronauts, by the way) and winds up a bleak look into religious fanatics (Knox) and never considering the consequences of our desires (Gunn). For my money this depresses me even more than “The Body” from Buffy's fifth season. Fred was the one character who couldn't be corrupted morally (Gunn even killed for her to keep her from doing anything vindictive), and so it was all the more devastating when this ancient evil corrupted her physically. And it gave people the chance to see what an incredible actress Amy Acker really was (as if the rest of her time as Fred wasn't subtle brilliance).

1. Not Fade Away (5x22)

There are those who view this episode as a cheap cliffhanger, a great first half to an unaired two-part finale. However, it is the truest send-off I have ever seen for any show. The depths the characters steep to in order to go out swinging is astonishing (Lorne’s finale in particular shook me deeply), and the last scene encapsulates everything about “Angel:” the daily, unwinnable struggle against evil. The fights manage to look epic without losing the working man feel of the series, and Wesley's death tore me up even more than Fred's, if that's at all possible. This is, quite simply, the best hour of TV I’ve ever seen.


Honorable Mention

Hero (1x09)

I wanted so badly to add this to the list (and high too), but I just couldn’t leave off any of the others. Doyle was a character who never had the time to win our hearts but did so anyway, and the fact that he sacrificed himself so Angel could keep fighting is a harbinger to Angel’s newfound importance in the wake of the Shanshu Prophecy. However, the cheap Nazi allusions really bring it down, to the point that I just couldn’t put it on the list.



The Five Worst Episodes of Angel

Angel is unquestionably my all-time favorite show, but that does not mean it's perfect. To date the only show I've ever watched with not a single weak episode is "Arrested Development" (I'm not counting short-lived British shows like "The Office" and "Spaced" because their runs are so short), but then that show only ran for 2.5 seasons. However, even though "Angel" doesn't always fire on all cylinders, I had a great deal of trouble coming up with even five all-out bad episodes. Comparatively, I can think of 8 clunkers in "Buffy" off the top of my head, and I still haven't finished going back through the series. So, let us take a moment to acknowledge the lesser moments of a great series.

5. Tomorrow (3x22)

To be honest, the whole end arc of Season 4 pisses me off to no end, but separately they aren’t bad enough to be rank as the worst of the series. But “Tomorrow” was hands down the worst finale of either Angel or its parent show. It squandered so much great lead-up in preceding episodes by falling into the trap of rampantly derivative devices. You’ve got your lack of action, waste of tension, all to set up a cheap cliffhanger that smacks of the absolute worst of TV clichés.

4. The House Always Wins (4x03)

The end run of Season 4 was shittier than the sum of its parts, but this early season clunker provides me with all the ammo I need. It’s a microcosm of all the flaws of the season: the initial awe at the bombast quickly gives way to the realization that the writers are dragging a character through emotionally devastating territory only to act like it’s no big deal and not move the character forward. Of course, Lorne’s story wasn’t half as offensive as the protracted ruination of Connor and Cordy.

3. Double or Nothing (3x18)

When he was a teenager, Gunn sold his soul for a pickup truck. I almost want to stop there. Now he has to pay up, so he breaks up with Fred so he doesn’t hurt her when he dies. On the day that he is going to die. Nice “strategery” Charles. I’m sure Fred will move on in the three hours between breakup and the news of your death. It’s stupid, emotionally vapid, and frankly insulting to both the audience and the characters.

2. Provider (3x12)

I have such a hard time writing anything about this episode. Angel Investigations needs money, so they immediately agree when a group of mysterious creatures offers $50,000 to take Fred back to their place to literally solve a puzzle. Of course, once they have her they plan on doing something stupid with her genius mind and the lesson is that money isn’t as important as friendship. That’s right, we have to sit through a moral normally reserved for a preachy sitcom. Man, why didn’t I spot the huge weaknesses in Season 3 the first time around?

1. She (1x13)

Joss Whedon always prided himself on the fact that "Buffy" never operated in the hackneyed "In a very special of..." style that every other show out there used to drum up ratings. But "Angel" got me worried when I watched this early disaster. In a blatant, heavy-handed metaphor of female genital mutilation, we are forced to endure Bai Ling's Jheira and those young girls she protects. Why? Because they have a mysterious appendage known as the Ko, which drives the males of their species to madness, so they remove it. While I agree that such practice is horrifying and deplorable, so what? Does anyone really NOT think that? It so cheaply smacks you over the head with a message that everyone agrees with anyway that it proves far more abysmal than a piece of filler. It is to TV what “Crash” is to film.

(See also: The 25 Best (and 5 Worst) Buffy Episodes)

Angel — Season 5

**Warning- contains spoilers**

Well, here we are: the end of "Angel." After suffering through the fourth season the first time I could barely bring myself to even care about the show anymore. But once I start something I have to finish it, so I popped it these discs expecting to either feel totally indifferent or to somehow get even angrier at the series that had rewarded me so often only to take so much away in only one arc. Instead, I was treated to the single best season of TV I've ever watched, one that —though not without weak moments— contained no weak episodes. It took the characters into territory far darker than they had ever gone before, but also featured many of the funniest moments of Whedonverse television. On a second viewing, I amazingly like it even more.

The writers had a lot of pressure on them this season. After the operatic bombast of the fourth season, "Angel" enjoyed great ratings but still couldn't bring in enough advertising money to pay for its hefty budget. So, when the Fang Gang moved to Wolfram & Hart, they also went back to basics. On a related note, WB execs told the writers to focus more on standalone episodes after the lengthy, dense arcs of the past two seasons. Normally, forcing shows to abandon the formulas that won them their fanbases leads to a big downturn in quality, which allows the studio to cancel the show guilt free, but "Angel" excels even in these early episodes.

The season opens with "Conviction," which shows our heroes adjusting to their new jobs at Wolfram & Hart, with Angel unable to go out and help the helpless without a squad of protectors around him. The main plot of the episode (a violent gangster threatens to unleash a virus on L.A. if Wolfram & Hart fails to convict him) is fairly incidental, but it brings about two major changes: 1) Gunn, feeling useless in this new, more elite world, undergoes a procedure that fills his head with full knowledge of the law and 2) Spike materializes in Angel's office.

The former is an interesting development into a late-bloomer of a character. Gunn mainly served to move forward others (chiefly Wesley) up until the fourth season, when he killed Fred's evil professor in order for her to keep her innocence. The resultant emotions over the event destroyed their relationship, and we really got a deep look into Gunn's masked sensitivity. Here, we get to see a man deathly afraid of being left behind, perhaps because it took so long for his character to go somewhere in the first place. His decision would have terrible repercussions down the line and would make him more central to the plot than ever before.

This won't end well, my little droogies.

But nothing compares to Spike’s appearance. Somehow, his essence was contained in the amulet that he used to destroy the Hellmouth in Buffy’s series finale, and that same amulet makes it way to Angel before Spike pops out as some sort of incorporeal ghosty type thing. Spike’s reappearance could have so easily undone his emotional end in “Chosen” (and some believe it did), but his instant rival siblings/old married couple rapport with Angel is a total riot, and he manages to grow just a little bit more throughout the season.

The best thing they could have possibly done.

I’d rather not dwell on the standalones since they all have their various strengths and weaknesses. “Life of the Party” is a terrifically funny Halloween episode, while “The Cautionary Tale of Numero Cinco” has such an absurd concept that I get a kick of out no matter how empty it is. The best of the first half of the season is unquestionably “Destiny,” in which Angel and a freshly corporealized Spike do battle to determine who has the rightful claim to the Shanshu prophecy. Not only does it contain the best fight sequence in the show by far, it gets deeper into the Spike/Angel relationship than we’ve ever seen. The worst of these episodes by default would have to be “Soul Purpose,” which is actually a great episode but features an atrocious dream sequence in which Angel hallucinates that he “loses” Buffy to Spike. This isn’t bad at all, but factor in the obvious stunt double to make up for SMG’s absence and the non-sequitur lines ripped from the old season 3 episode “The Prom” are the absolute worst. It is the only moment of the season that really grates me.

The first half was strong enough in a Season 1 kind of way, but starting at about the halfway mark, Whedon and co. knew the show’s days were numbered, and they went all out. “You’re Welcome” brings back Cordelia for only one painfully brief episode, but it restores her character back to the person we came to love. The final scene is one of those simple, heartbreaking moments that brings you tears every time.

Apart from a slight stumble in execution in the interesting “Why We Fight,” season 5 hits the throttle. First up is the single funniest, most absurdly brilliant episode Joss Whedon has ever penned: “Smile Time.” A story of the seedy side of the show business, the emptiness of TV and how it enslaves our children, and puppets, “Smile Time” alone should have guaranteed “Angel” another season.

Good.

Better.

I came.

At the end of the episode Wesley finally gets with Fred, and we all should have known that would spell trouble. Enter “A Hole in the World,” quite possibly the most depressing hour of TV Whedon’s ever penned. Yes, even above “The Body.” When Whedon kills his characters, he tends to do so in the most abrupt ways, but when he does allow for melodrama, he does so in inventive ways. After Fred is infected with a mysterious pathogen when she opens a coffin, she spends the entire episode slowly dying. However, instead of her spouting out tearful monologues, she has more subdued (and therefore more affecting) moments with Wesley while the rest of the Fang Gang desperately searches for a cure. Those final scenes where Angel and Spike realize that they can do nothing and Fred’s final, innocent last line will tear out your heart and puree it in front of you.

Fred’s death ushers in an amazing new character: Illyria. An ancient demon resurrected in Fred’s body, Illyria is disgusted to even have to reside in such an unworthy “shell” and even more repulsed that she is surrounded by everyone’s grief over losing Fred. Their grief is only more compounded with the knowledge that Illyria’s resurrection not only killed Fred but also destroyed her soul. It’s a testament to the writing that this revelation devastated me, that I was so into the show that even thinking about it purely on its surface, supernatural level could affect me.

Amy Acker didn't win an Emmy for this. Emmys mean nothing.

The end run of “Angel” is stronger than any other run in the Buffyverse: above the original Angelus arc., above Buffy’s third and fifth season, above the beige Angel arc. Wesley turns into a pathetic wretch who clings to Illyria as his only link to the only thing he ever loved on this planet, and his feelings seem to bring out latent remnants of Fred in a clearly vexed Illyria. Wesley’s not the only one who suddenly has nothing to lose. Angel, fed up with sitting by, plans a last-ditch attack on Wolfram & Hart, leading to the epic two-part finale.

In “Power Play,” we cannot be sure that Angel has truly snapped over his grief for Fred and has turned evil. He goes so dark that the Circle of the Black Thorn, the highest agents of the Senior Partners on Earth, invites him to join. When his friends confront him on his sudden change, he reveals his plan: gain entrance to the Circle in order to kill every member. This plays out over the final episode, “Not Fade Away.” The finest and truest series finale I’ve ever seen, NFA shows our heroes mount a large-scale attack on an unbeatable foe while still keeping to the central theme of the series: a daily struggle against evil as a means to redemption. The seedy depths that the characters stoop to (Lorne’s final act for the gang still turns my stomach because of what it means to him), the beautiful parting moment between Illyria and Wesley and that much debated final scene display everything that made the show great. If this is not my all-time favorite episode of TV I can’t tell you what is.

I’ve been trying to make these things more concise because let’s face it, no one reads this anyway and it’s never fun to surf through a big essay online. But I can’t help myself. If I went into even half the moments of this season that affected me deeply it would be four times as long. Apart from a few moments in a couple of episodes, I love every second of this. Even “The Girl In Question,” which I completely agree should have been moved earlier in the season (even though Buffy threw in a comic relief episode plenty of times in the middle of a dark arc), is so damn funny I don’t even mind that stupid stereotypical Italian Wolfram & Hart executive.

When you boil it down to its essence, Angel’s fifth season mixed the best of the solitary quality of Season 1 with the emotional impact of the big arc structure of the other three seasons. The fact that I have to resort to pointing out individual scenes to demonstrate any dip in quality is a testament to at the very least my undying love for it, if not the actual quality. “Angel” became my favorite show the instant I watched it (yeah, even including the fourth season), but even when I take a step back from it I can do nothing but shower this season with adulation.

Let's get to work.

Angel — Season 4

**warning contains spoilers**

You know the thing that made me love "Buffy" and "Angel" the most? It wasn't just the strong female characters, the emotional resonance, the relatable quality of even the most supernatural of characters, or the pop culture-laced wit; it was for a very simple reason- they were both just so damn good. Even the weakest episodes of each could outclass just about every other show on TV, and the writers managed to make even the lesser episodes worth watching.

After I ran through Season 3 for the first time, I was so insanely high on this show that it couldn't possibly let me down. In retrospect that season suffered from a great deal of empty tension and had a severe problem with episode consistency, but at the time it managed to gleefully misdirect from its problems and, apart from its terrible letdown of a finale, was one of my favorite seasons of either show. But nothing could prepare me for the shock of what was in store.

Season 4 starts things off by magnificently fixing everything that was wrong with the previous season's finale. "Tomorrow" had been chock full of interesting developments, but threw them together so sloppily that it played like the most generic episode of TV that Mutant Enemy had ever put out. "Deep Down" brings it back from the abyss (in some cases quite literally) by firmly establishing Wesley's new attitude, bringing back Angel from the briny deep, and laying out Connor's plan for all to see. It was the darkest episode since "Sleep Tight," if not season two's existential nightmare "Reprise."

Then we hit the skids almost immediately. "Ground State" introduces Gwen, a bizarre combination of the X-Men Rogue and Storm (anyone who touches her skin gets fried), who works as a expert thief. It's fun enough filler, but nothing of note happens other than setting Gwen up as a possible love interest for Angel. "The House Always Wins" is one of the all-time worst episodes of the series; it points out that gambling is risky and can ruin lives, all with metaphors about as subtle as the neon lights of the casinos. It could have been so interesting too; Lorne's dream had always been to perform at Vegas, and to see that dream so thoroughly perverted could have set up a killer character arc. Instead, he gets rescued and is exactly the same as he always was.

Things begin to get back on track with the superb episode "Spin the Bottle," a wholly irreverent standalone that came about simply because Joss wanted to see the old bumbling Wesley again. The result is the second funniest of the series (after "Smile Time") and one of the funniest in the Buffyverse.

"Spin the Bottle" marks the start of an incredible run that rivals anything Mutant Enemy's ever done. "Apocalypse Nowish" introduces the Beast, an unstoppable creature who brings with him all sorts of plagues. We sense immediately that he is not the brains in charge of the operation, however, which serves the story much better (remember how lame Adam was when left to his own thought-processes?).

Not half as sinister as the writers.

The best development of the Beast arc? The return of Angelus. Oh, it's been a long time coming indeed, and Boreanaz looks like he's been waiting for it too. Mix the Beast's rampage at Wolfram & Hart with the unleashing of the greatest villain in the Buffyverse and you've got a cocktail for success. Things couldn't get any better right? WRONG. Enter Faith, sprung from prison by Wesley to save Angel from turning permanently evil. Faith's reapperance cements the journey of her arc, proving that she, like Angel, has learned to live with her sins and to live a life of goodness not to redeem herself but because it's the right thing to do. Faith would go from here back to Sunnydale to make peace with "Buffy" in some of the better moments of that show's final season, but this is the true payoff of her character.

The Beast/Angelus arc is such a long, consistent arc that I got the feeling that "Angel" is on top of the world and that anywhere the story went from here was going to be epic. I was wrong Dead wrong. "Angel" goes from great to bad so fast it makes your head spin.

Thank Christ for Faith.

Signs of trouble were present even in the excellence of the middle arc. Connor, who was such an interesting character in the third season, is destroyed. Last season, he came back from Qu'or Toth after a few weeks suddenly a full-grown teenager brainwashed against his father by Holtz, who used Connor as his avenue for revenge; upon his return Connor adamantly hated Angel but retained his father's moral code. Even when he locked Angel in a crate and threw him into the ocean, you pitied him.

Not so in Season 4. Instead of the complex, tortured character who promised so much, the writers lock Vincent Kartheiser into playing Connor as a one-note, insufferably annoying bitch who pushes emo teenage angst so far into the red it leaves you begging for someone to hand him a razor and a copy of "The Virgin Suicides." After Angel proves beyond shadow of a doubt his love for his son no matter what he did, Connor hates him more than ever, just because. At every turn he tries to convince everyone to kill Angelus not because he's evil, but because he just doesn't like his dad.

Compounding Connor's descent is the utter destruction of Cordelia. Cordy's arc was certainly one of the more surprising of the show. She had started her journey at the very start of Buffy as a vain, stereotypical valley girl and matured into a more intelligent yet no less biting character by the time she left Sunnydale impoverished by her father's illegal business practices. When she arrived in Los Angeles, Cordy still had that crazy dream of becoming a star, but came into her own. She went from a bitch to a caring, almost motherly individual, and while her acension in the Season 3 finale was so insulting and stupid that it defies reason, it was a nice touch for her.

Then Cordelia returns, possessed by a higher power. She manipulates Connor into sleeping with her in order to impregnate her so the higher power can be born into a body of its own. She takes Angel's bottled soul to keep Angelus around. She stabs Lilah. Finally, when you couldn't possibly be any more outraged with the treatment of her character. Cordy gives birth to Jasmine and slips into a coma.

Even screencaps of this piss me off.

If the undercurrent ruination of two major characters wasn't bad enough, the Jasmine arc is enough to tip things over the edge into downright badness. It all starts with "Inside Out,"{ an episode that so fearlessly tackles a range of philosophical questions and features such great acting all around that it never hit me at first that it set up the worst development of this or any other show in the Whedonverse. Jasmine's appearance is the result of her tampering with all of the events of the show to make possible her birth; everything that moved the characters forward, led to emotional and thematic breakthroughs was all predestined. I must admit a bias against predestination; it is the philosophy that resulted when real logic collided with Bible logic, and I think it's the stupidest concept in the world. It also has no place in a show, because it strips events of their importance and resonance.

It also doesn't help that Jasmine is perhaps the worst major villain I have ever seen in a TV show. A goddess, she inspires tranquility in all who gaze upon her. Unless some of her blood mixes with yours, that is. If so, you look at her and see not a beautiful goddess but a rotting, maggot-infested corpse. I don't know why either. Oh, and Jasmine eats people, who consider it an honor to be feasted upon by her.

Eventually the Fang Gang all snap out of it and fight Jasmine and kill her fairly easily. Yet for some reason it takes them four episodes to do so. Four. Looooooooonnnnnnnnnnnggggggg. Episodes. I just watched this three days ago and I can't remember anything about this arc that would necessitate more than two episodes. Then again, I wish it had never happened at all. Part of me thinks that the writers used Jasmine as a placeholder for the writers, much as the Trio in Buffy's sixth season represented the more nitpicking fans.

But don't count out Tim Minear, who swoops in after an entire season away to write one last episode for the show he made so great. His season finale, "Home," is every bit as redeeming as "Restless" was for Buffy's own weak fourth season. Lilah returns as a ghost and deliciously turns Angel Investigations' victory on them; by killing Jasmine, they effectively ending the possibility for world peace. Ergo, the Senior Partners were so impressed that they offer Angel and co. the L.A. branch of Wolfram & Hart.

"Home" rights so many wrongs it looks like Minear kept tabs on everything that went wrong and found a way to twist almost all of it into a positive. Giving Angel the keys to Evil on Earth is just about the most interesting thing he could have done, and it makes the fight against Jasmine darkly ironic. The fact that Angel agrees on the condition that everyone's memory is erased so Connor can live with a normal family and have a happy life calls to mind the agonizing finale of the early classic "I Will Remember You," and it reinforces his heroism.

Despite this incredible end note and the promise it contains, Angel Season 4 is unbelievably frustrating and even moreso on a repeat viewing. It continues to push forward Wesley's arc, and it FINALLY develops Fred and Gunn and splits up their initially promising but ultimately banal relationship. However, Angel remains stagnant (apart from the re-emergence of Angelus) and the utter bungling of both Cordelia and Connor is unforgivable. The saddest thing about those two is that both get one episode's worth of attention in the fifth season ("You're Welcome" for Cordy and "Origin" for Connor), and both of those episodes fix just about all the problems that an entire season piled upon them, which tells me that all this could have been avoided. I understand that Charisma Carpenter's pregnancy threw the writers off a bit, but this was the best solution?

The operatic tone of the season is a bold new direction for the show, and the Beast arc still ranks among my favorites, and it's got enough to make the season worth owning. But this is the first and only season of Whedonverse TV that has not only failed to entertain me over the course of more than one episode but has actively put me off. I was reluctant to watch the final season after this, but thankfully the fifth season more than redeems the show and stands as the best season of TV that Mutant Enemy has ever produced.

Angel — Season 3

**warning- contains spoilers**

On a second viewing of the Buffyverse I've had differing opinions of just about all the seasons. Apart from Buffy Season 3, which remained almost entirely constant, I've found new things to love and new things to criticize. Occasionally my opinion differs drastically, with Angel Season 3 representing likely my biggest change in opinion.

The first time I watched the season, I was completely enraptured. As I was still watching Buffy seasons concurrently, I liked the Big Bad concept and, while I loved "Angel" very much, I missed the sense of a season-long arc. So when I sat down and finally saw the darkness of "Angel" mixed with the structure of "Buffy," I was over the moon. However, a re-run pointed out glaring quality inconsistencies and empty tension.

The season starts out with unquestionably the worst season premiere in the Buffyverse, "Heartthrob." After Tim Minear plunged us into the despair and mutual defeat of Angel and Darla's relationship throughout the big middle arc of the last season, the writers decided that apparently we all didn't get it and make this shambles of an hour. Basically, they show a vampire couple that traveled with the two who were truly in love, and in the present the surviving male provides a contrast to Angel's conflicted feelings for Darla. The problem (apart from vampire Romeo's acting)? The writers retcon the Angelus timeline for the sake of haphazardly inserting this couple, ostensibly showing a disregard for continuity that I'd never expect from Mutant Enemy.

From there the main plot sets in: Darla, despite the impossibility of vampiric conception, is pregnant with Angel's child. The ripple effect of this event will completely change the tone of the show yet again, and leads to numerous unexpected developments. The season takes a few episodes to get going (apart from "That Old Gang of Mine," which is reviled by its writer, Minear, but is the best look into Gunn until the middle of Season 4). Fred is still (quite understandably) disturbed by her experiences on Plyea, and the first few episodes show her very slowly coming out of her shell. Then we get "Fredless," which inexplicably wraps the whole thing up in a single hour.

As Darla gets closer and closer to term, the season heats up. She alternates between not just hormonal anger but rage that she shares the baby's soul. This leads to one of the most shocking, best written, and utterly moving decisions in the series. As the child's soul influences her (or infects, depending on your point of view), she comes to truly love something in the world. It all comes to a head in "Lullaby," in which she sacrifices herself because she knows that once the baby leaves her, she'll be soulless again and will likely kill him. It's a stunning end to one of the most understated and brilliant character arcs in the Whedonverse.

A beautiful end to a great character.

The birth of Connor sends Wolfram & Hart into a frenzy. Unfortunately, when Lindsey left and Holland Manners died the collective intelligence of the firm seems to have gone with them. While Stephanie Romanov is still wonderfully sinister as Lilah, the additions of Gavin Park and Linwood seem like almost parody. While Lindsey and Lilah always feared for their lives and warred with each other for power, they never came off as cowardly or petty. Linwood and Park, on the other hand, are incompetent one-note dolts; it's as if they took those two Team Rocket morons from "Pokémon" and made them lawyers. Park, thankfully, would become more calculating and devious by the end of this season and into the next one, but it doesn't excuse the fact that the writers took Wolfram & Hart, argubaly the single greatest entity in the Whedonverse and made it into a cartoon. It wouldn't recover its unsettling glory until the gang moved into their HQ in the final season.

Hey there, champ. Who's gonna ruin this show one day? You are! Yes, you are!

So with Wolfram & Hart more or less out of the picture, we need a new villain; not necessarily a Big Bad, but someone more important than a MOTW. Enter Holtz, a demon hunter revived after over 200 years by a demon named Sahjahn with a personal vendetta against Angelus. If we can't have the insidious scheming of Wolfram & Hart, then Holtz is about the best possible substitute you could have. Though he is steadfast in his hatred of Angelus, even upon learning of his foe's re-souling, Holtz is a complex figure. We see that he has every reason to hate Angel, and we're left wondering if Holtz really is the bad guy. However, when he settles on young Connor as the avenue to his revenge, we see how vengeance can turn even a good man into a beast.

Holtz's desire to take the baby from Angel receives support from a prophecy Wesley translates, which states that "The Father will kill the Son." This simple sentence results in what is inarguably the most unforeseeable, shocking, and complex development arcs in Buffvyverse history: the fall of Wesley. People throw out the term "Shakespearean" too often (I myself am a bit too liberal with it), but you'll be hard pressed to find a story arc on television that comes closer to classic tragedy than Wesley's.

When we first met him, Wesley was a craven, inept, friendless Watcher who used his position to (try to) coldly boss around a teenage girl, likely as an outpouring of his own forceful father. If Alexis Denisof hadn't been so damn funny Wes could have been downright loathsome, but you couldn't help but love the goof. Then, he went to Angel Investigations and grew into a new man. Slowly leaving his nervosa behind, he becomes a surprisingly capable fighter and forges close bonds with these new friends. After years of fantasizing about being the hero, Wesley had finally become heroic. But his unrequited crush on Fred began to separate him from the crew, and the knowledge that Angel was prophesied to kill his own son drove him to make a bold decision.

In "Sleep Tight" the tragedy explodes. Wesley steals Connor, gives him to Holtz, and gets his throat slashed by Holtz's right hand lady Justine. He has truly reached rock bottom, where he will reside for quite some time. When Holtz takes Connor into an alternate dimension, he destroys his nemesis. Angel completes Wesley's fall from grace by attempting to smother him as he lay recovering in a hotel room.

In all honesty, the season should have ended here. It would have left a lot of questions unanswered while not feeling like your usual cliffhanger. But it carried on. Just when you thought it had gone as far as it could, Connor returns as a teenager. As much as I wanted the season to have ended, I admire this last leg, strangely enough because of the actions of maybe the worst character in either Buffy or Angel. When Connor returns after only a few weeks worth of Earth time, he has spent a lifetime getting brainwashed against his father by Holtz. Holtz's final victory is what cements him as a true villain; in his quest for revenge, he ruined not only his foe's life, but that of an innocent child. Connor's barely suppressed rage generates almost as much tension as Wesley's agonizing choice.

Too. Awesome. For Words.

Sadly, my fears were confirmed when "Tomorrow" ushers in the close of the season with...a cliffhanger. Come on, man; the whole reason I took such a shine to Whedon's work in the first place was that it played so far outside of the usual conventions. It's all setup and no payoff, which I have no problem with...provided that it's followed by the kickass season finale. But this is the finale. I'll concede that it sets up a killer episode in the form of next season's premiere, but what must it have been like to have to wait five months just to get to the goddamn point?

Apart from my nitpicks at the end, you're probably wandering when all this new criticism is supposed to kick in. Well, looking back, Sahjahn, though a wildly entertaining character, fails to let us all know why he's here until after Wesley commits his dasterdly deed. It turns out that the dreaded prophecy originally stated that Connor would kill him, so he went back in time and rewrote it to say that Angel would kill Connor. I don't get it; does this point out the inanity of prophecies? I could get on board with that, but knowing what I know now about the events of Season 4 and what they meant to the show philosophically, this turn of events is out of place. Also, we should have learned about these events before Wesley made his choice. Imagine how much more suspenseful, it would have been to see Wesley slowly come to a conclusion that he knows is right even as we know that he's being played.

And that's the chief problem of the season: the tension has no foundation. Upon a first watch, we're being jerked around so much on a leash that we have no time to question. Every time you stop and wander aloud "Are Fred and Gunn going to go anywhere?" they toss a bone with yet another Wesley development or some crazy new happening. When I plowed through this again, I was almost excruciatingly bored at times. Whereas the last season mixed impossibly deep character and story advancement wrapped up in thoughtful yet entertaining episodes, Season 3 suffers from a notable disconnect between the episode plots and how the characters move forward. You still have to watch the episodes to see how the characters grow, but it's too often a chore.

Still, there are some strong episodes. "Billy" is total MOTW material, but it's one of those immensely unsettling and memorable ones along the lines of "I've Got You Under My Skin," while the aforementioned "Lullaby" and "Sleep Tight" are some of the most affecting and thematic in the show's run. A surprising treat is the metaphorical "Waiting in the Wings," in which the gang sees a ballet that's been repeating for a hundred years under the spell of a perversely lovelorn patron. The final stretch, though very much tacked on, is mostly superb, except for the finale.

Upon a first watch this was my favorite season until I got to S5. By then, Season 4 had purged me of my need for a big arc and it's mammoth run in its second half blew away everything I'd ever seen. But now, this rests near the bottom of the Buffyverse, along with S4 of both shows and Buffy's first season. It's still entertaining in a number of places, but apart from Darla and Wesley and, occasionally, Angel, we get too little character development. Holtz is a great villain, but Wolfram & Hart take a severe blow. If you haven't watched it yet (and I hope you have since I threw a spoiler tag at the top), then you'll likely find a lot to love about this season. But eventually you have to face the facts and admit the emperor has no clothes.

Angel — Season 2

**warning: contains spoilers**

Angel's first season was a confident but shaky debut, one that boldly moved away from its parent show while still remaining in the same universe. It managed to get across a lot of thematic development as well; at the start Angel is a brooding loner who fights evil just to whittle the time away until something finally kills him, and by the end of it he has a whole new outlook on life. Armed with the knowledge that he is prophesied to become great, Angel is more upbeat than ever before. But, as with all things Whedon, the good times never last.

The first few episodes are, with the exception of the deeply metaphorical "Are You Now Or Have You Ever Been?," the superb Tim Minear classic that remains a fan favorite, fun but meaningless. Angel is still riding high on the prophecy, Wesley is coming into his own but still clumsy, and Gunn slowly starts to acclimate to the team members.

But it all changes with "Dear Boy," the beginning of what would become a mammoth mid-season arc that drastically shifted the tone of the show. Darla's return throws Angel for a loop; he can't decide if he wants to help her or kill her once and for all. Darla, brought back by Wolfram & Hart purely to screw with her ex-lover, came back as a human and, funnily enough, hates it. At one point in the season Angel remarks that she's been destroying mirrors because she has a soul and, when someone points out that he doesn't go around smashing mirrors and he has a soul, Angel responds "I don't have to look at myself." As cold and ruthless as Darla very much still is, she must confront herself on her past, and whereas Angel shut down from the gult, she poured those feelings into rage.

The Darla arc is split into two segments; the first ends with her shocking re-turning in "Reunion," which sets the stage for some of Angel's darkest moments. It launches the second half of the arc, commonly titled the Beige Angel arc. In it, Angel, crushed by his inability to save Darla, realizes he is entering a dark part of his mind and fires the Angel Investigations staff. He begins to hunt Darla and Drusilla with a vengeance; he strikes a terrifying balance between Angel and Angelus, a creature who has a soul but, like any human, can bring that soul into the darkness.

It all hits a magnificent nadir (in terms of cheeriness, certainly not quality) in the two part arc ender "Reprise" and "Epiphany." "Reprise" is one of the absolute finest episodes of either Angel or Buffy; it's an existential nightmare that reveals that the hell Wolfram & Hart answers to (and, presumably, the real Hell since they are the embodiment of evil) is right here on Earth. It obliterates the themes laid down at the end of Season 1 by flat out stating that evil is not something that can ever be defeated. Angel's parent show would tackle the same issue throughout it's final season, but as much as I enjoy it, the entire season never comes close to the depth and despair of this single episode. "Epiphany" rebuilds the show from the ruins of its predecessor, putting Angel's life back on track by reducing his mission back to its "working class hero" roots.

This lengthy arc is one of the most consistent and incredible runs in the Whedonverse, but sadly the season ends on a weak note with the Pylea arc. Perhaps in an effort to allieviate some of the philosophical darkness of the rest of the season, the writers decided to make some weird-ass version of The Wizard of Oz. If I'm lying I'm dying. In all fairness, this four episode arc isn't bad, per se, and it would have been lovely, pointless frivolity...if it wasn't so long. Pylea's a one-joke town, and we get four episodes of it. It does, however, get a pass purely for introducing Fred. I'll go into that in later seasons.

All in all, this is one of the best seasons in the Whedonverse, for one simple reason: Tim Minear. Run down the writing credits for this season: Every. Single. Classic episode is written by Minear. He combines wonderfully dark humor, deep allegory and metaphor, and thought provoking philosophy into 43 minute chunks. He even wrote the only good episode of the Pylea arc ("Through the Looking Glass").

Apart from a few hiccups at the start and finish, you'll rarely see a season of TV more captivating and thoughtful than this. For my money, only the show's final season could best it.


Choice Episodes:
Are You Now Or Have You Ever Been?
Darla
Reunion
Redefintion
Reprise
Epiphany


Letdowns:

Judgment
Disharmony (Thank God they figured out how to make Harmony interesting in the final season)

Angel — Season 1

Spinoffs never do seem to work, do they? No wonder; most of them just take the most memorable supporting character place them in a wacky new location, and have them try to be the exact same character they were, only now as the lead. The problem? Supporting characters can be over the top because they do not have all the screen time, but when you throw, say, Kramer into a show of his own you get nothing but Kramer being Kramer all the time and it drives you nuts.

Thus, when Angel left Buffy the Vampire Slayer at the end of its thirds season after practically making the show a hit, I was nervous. I first watched this concurrently with Buffy, swapping out seasons of both, going from Buffy S4 to this, etc., and immediately had my fears put to rest. While I believe Buffy is the show that will define Joss Whedon, and was more consistent, I found myself prefering its sister show. On a first watch, I thought Angel S1 was good, but overall uninteresting, lacking a strong enough arc to keep me engaged. While that view still somewhat applies, I found myself liking it a whole lot more on a second viewing.

In one of the most assured pilots I've ever seen, "City Of" establishes David Boreanaz as a much more mature actor and a viable leading man, as well as introducing the overreaching theme of the season: connection. Angel left Sunnydale because he was afraid, afraid of his relationship with Buffy and how it could cause him to revert to Angelus again. In Los Angelos, Angel finds himself alone, and that's how he likes it; he wants to kill as many demons as he can before someone finally gets to him, and he'll finally be free. But that all changes over the course of the pilot. When he fails to protect a young woman, he realizes that he's ultimately useless fighting this battle alone. The friendships he forges with Cordelia and the newcomer Doyle give him an actual link to the world from which he was trying to cut himself off, and gave him something to fight for beyond the quixotic "take as many as you can with you" philosophy he adhered to.

"City Of" leads to a number of strong standalone episodes that waste no time setting up Angel as a unique show and one capable of standing on its own merits. They also proved to be deeply metaphorical (even compared to Buffy): "Lonely Hearts," for example, works as a superb allegory for singles who move from one night stand to one night stand foolishly believing they'll ever find "the one" that way. Also, episodes like "In The Dark" and "Rm W/ a Vu" are just great fun that also cram in some surprising development.

But the season really kicks into high gear in the double punch to the gut that is "I Will Remember You" and "Hero." The former brings Buffy in for what so easily could have become a boring, "hey look kids!" crossover; instead, it's the most affecting moment in the Buffy/Angel relationship since "Becoming, Pt. 2." After fighting a demon with regenerative powers, Angel suddenly finds he's human again, and he and Buffy can finally be happy together without fear of Angelus (or the sun, of course). But bad things are coming, and Angel realizes that he needs his vampire strength to fight them, and gives up his newfound life, something made all the more painful by the fact that no one will remember his humanity but him. The last scene before the time wipe is heart-wrenching: Buffy tearfully repeats, almost pleads "I won't forget, I won't forget" until she suddenly does. It's the final nail in the coffin of their relationship and it's a beautiful send-off.

"Hero," on the other hand, proves just how different and unpredictable this show was going to be. In it, we see the first glimpse of how Angel's daily grind against evil actually results in major changes; Doyle is so inspired by his boss' selflessness that he gives his own life in what may be the most shocking death in the Buffyverse simply because it happened so soon after the show started. "Hero" marks the turning point of the show from some fun standalones to a much bigger purpose. It goes into deep territory and, even when the episodes are just average, delivers enough character advancement or pure entertainment that they're worth it.

Except, of course, "She." "She" is the kind of episode that is not only bad on a surface level, but infuritating upon further examination. In it, a demon named Jhiera (played by Bai Ling, which spells trouble from the start) must protect her humanoid female demons against savage males. Why? Because they have something called the Ko, and the males remove their Ko because it causes pure chaos. In case you can't tell, this all stands for the barbaric practice of female genital mutilation, which is certainly horrifying, but how does this apply to the characters? What makes this show and its parent work is that it tackles every day issues with the supernatural; this on the other hand, plays like "a very special episode of," something Joss always set out to combat. It's boring, preachy (does anyone disagree that the practice is wrong and horrifying anyway?), and useless to the show.

Still, things end in style for the season with two awesome mini-arcs, one involving the return of Faith, and the other presenting us with Angel's destiny, or at least a part of it. "Five By Five" and "Sanctuary" show a Faith acting out even more than usual because she wants to simply self-destruct, and Angel must do what he can to save her. Faith's breakdown at the end of "Five By Five" is one of the best moments in either show. "Blind Date" and "To Shanshu in L.A.," on the other hand, break Angel out of his funk by proving that he is destined to be a hero and to regain his humanity. It brilliantly sets up the Angel of the second season who, for a while, will be much more filled with confidence and vigor until Wolfram & Hart pull the rug from underneath him.

So what are we left with? Out of 22 episodes, I'd say about 13 are either enjoyable, great, or classic. It seems to clash between being entertaining and lacking a real narrative to make the whole season seem worth the time, even though it's so good so often. It does wonders for moving Cordelia forward from the materialistic "bitch" (as she refers to herself gleefully in one episode) of Buffy to a more compassionate, caring individual. It also reintroduces Wesley and starts moving him away from the bumbling fool of Buffy S3, although he really doesn't begin to turn into a strong character in season 2, and he REALLY goes through a transformation in season 3. Season 2 would explore the themes of Angel in a much deeper, infinitely darker way, but this is a hell of a strong season, and it blows every other spinoff out of the water from the start.

Choice Episodes:

City Of

One of the best pilots I've ever seen. It establishes its themes, begins to move both Angel and Cordelia away from their Buffy personas into more fleshed out characters, and it features one of the show's most badass moments at the end. Also, it sets up its affinity for strong metaphor with its main plot that clearly represents the L.A. moguls who use up wannabe actresses for their pleasure and toss them aside. An incredible start.

I Will Remember You

Angel's sudden life lends to a cheesy (yet totally believable) reunion for Buffy and Angel and even though we're waiting for the other shoe to drop, nothing can prepare you for that ending. Angel wouldn't make such a big sacrifice again until "Home" at the end of season 4.

Hero

Many would become inspired by Angel's personal struggle against evil, and Doyle was the one who started the ball rolling. The Nazi allusions that the Monsters of the Week conjure up are cheap, but they cannot bring down so wonderful an episode.

Somnambulist

I wish Penn had lasted for a mini-arc of his own, but even in this standalone he brings up so much of Angel's past and confronts him with the horrors he can never really atone for that it's hard to believe it can all fit in one episode.

I've Got You Under My Skin

What better foil for a vampire with a soul than a human without one? What starts out as a fun Exorcist parody stuffs in a number of marvelous twists and turns. There are precious few truly standalone episodes in the series (i.e. ones that don't even push forward the characters very much or at all), but this is definitely my favorite.

The Prodigal

This is the first, and certainly not the last, episode to shed light into Angel's actual guilt of being Angelus. We've seen that he feels guilt and know why, but we never see him really try to come to terms with the horrors he committed until now.

Sanctuary

"Five By Five" has the incredible breakdown, but "Sanctuary" spread out everything over the whole episode. It puts Faith firmly on the road to redemption and features an alternately deep and hysterical insight into the difficulties of "how it works," only to find out that the "it" in question was actually a microwave and not an existential question. Also, Angel's pained outburst at Buffy lets her know that it's over (keep in mid she forgot most of IWRY and doesn't share Angel's pain) and firmly separates not only those two but their shows as well.

To Shanshu in L.A.

"Hero" started shifting Angel, but it was "To Shanshu" that busted the thing wide open, allowing for the personal fights against evil of Season 2, 3, and 5 and, for better or worse, the epic borderline opera of season 4.

Letdowns:

I Fall to Pieces

The stalking metaphors are very interesting indeed, but they belong in a better episode. The suspense of the stalking gave way to unintentional hilarity when you saw how the guy was supernatural.

Expecting

Ugh, "sex is bad," part...what, 4? I like the message to be careful with sex, but at this point it looks like all the writers have hangups. I did like seeing Ken Marino, though.

She

Possibly the worst episode of the entire series. Insulting to the audience and it doesn't fit into the show's M.O.

The Ring

Fight Club, now with demons! This starts kind of promising but is just sort of pointless. Although, when Scott William Winters' character dies I like to shout "How do you like THEM apples?"