Another bad-tempered week at Tat HQ.
Reade is pretending that there’s nothing wrong with him in that “I’m totes fine, so what if I accidentally broke some guy’s face? I’m overly aggressive? YOU’RE OVERLY AGGRESSIVE!” kind of way. Perennial misery-merchant Zapata suddenly knows all about computers and is Patterson’s assistant/ Reade’s bodyguard because sulking about Jane isn’t a full-time job on its own. And Kurt and Kalinda are still trying to prove otherwise, arguing over La Doe – whether she’s in the room or not – except when they’re taking a break and arguing over Reade instead.
It’s the perfect time, then, for Sandstorm to change tack and appeal to Jane’s sense of having had enough of this sh1t, with a story about how they’re not actually a fanatic freakshow, they’re just fighting back against the Man, y’all; a tactic which wouldn’t have been in any danger of succeeding were it not for the fact that every tattoo so far has revealed the Man to be an asshat (or at the very least asshat-adjacent) and that Jane’s so-called teammates at the FBI are displaying some pretty asshatish tendencies themselves. In fairness, Kurt, all twisted up by fear of betrayal on the one hand and fear of babies on the other, is trying to be kinder to her, but if Team Tat want to keep Jane on their side, everybody needs to be trying a hell of a lot harder.
Of course, all this fretting and snarling leaves very little time for a Tat of the Week but we squeeze one in anyway; in time-honoured tradition, we’re getting our gladrags on and heading to yet another Daytime Gala at an Art Gallery – does anyone outside American procedurals ever actually do this? – to foil blah blah agent blah blah burn notice blah blah nobody cares, since the real questions are a) Do you need a hand with your zip, Jane? (YES!) and b) Are we playing a married couple again? (No.)
I suppose one outta two ain’t bad.
Jane, bless her, refrains from throwing things at everyone’s heads, and tries to channel
my her disappointment/ mortification at not being fake-married again into chatting up some suit instead. Kurt the big grump has no patience for this, however – the moment where the suit introduces himself to the clearly seething, crazy-jealous Weller as “Oliver Kind” and our hero says “Very good” in a tone that suggests anything but is hilarious – since there’s an assassin on the loose, and antique swords on display. It’s time for a FIGHT.
Much glass-smashing and picture-slashing later and the assassin escapes, but it’s not for long; ultimately, she’s caught, the plot uncovered, and some madness involving an oddly-named teenager and a shoot-out in a car park as a metaphor for the Taylor Shaw scam ensues, because it wouldn’t be Blindspot otherwise.
All in all, it’s an odd episode and one which doesn’t bode well for the emotional well-being and future cohesiveness of Team Tat, ending as it does with Kurt and Kalinda sharing a Scotch, and the increasingly lonely, isolated Jane beginning to drink the Sandstorm Kool-Aid. But the gala shenanigans mean it’s entertaining nonetheless. If Weller and Ms Doe are ever going to kiss and make up, though, now would be a really good time.