"Canary Cry"
Original Airdate: April 27, 2016
We all cope with grief in different ways. There is no right or wrong way to deal with the loss of someone you loved. Some people get angry. Some people suffer from intense denial. Some lose themselves in sadness. Some simply feel numb. I've experienced all kinds of emotions when I've dealt with the loss of a family member — apathy, numbness, anger, sorrow — and the characters on Arrow are feeling the same emotions that most of us do whenever we encounter death. While there is no right or wrong way to deal with grief, there are productive and destructive ways. A productive way to deal with the death of someone we cared about is by allowing ourselves the space to grieve and to grieve honestly, whatever that looks like. If we do, we will find ourselves on a pathway toward healing. But if we deal with our grief destructively, it can break us and the people around us. We can use our grief to lash out at others, to lash out at ourselves, and ultimately it can be the very thing that changes us, hardens us, and destroys us.
In "Canary Cry," Team Arrow is dealing with the loss of Laurel Lance (not Black Canary, folks. Arrow did not kill Black Canary — they killed Laurel Lance, and I'll discuss the importance of that distinction in a moment). How did they do with their grief? Well, let's dive in and see because some of our characters could probably use a heavy dose of counseling.
THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS CANON
Before I get into the plot of the episode, why is it so important to me that everyone understand the fact that Arrow did not — as I have seen many angry fanboys (and girls) claim — "kill Black Canary"? Because in inappropriately placing their blame on the showrunners and inappropriately equating Laurel with Black Canary, they're actually devaluing the character they're claiming to love and support. Look, it's no surprise that Laurel Lance was a divisive character. You can argue all day with people who love her and with those who do not like her at all.
But Laurel was important in the framework of the relationships Arrow has created. Her storylines may have vanished and she may — toward the end of her character arc — not really had much impact on the stories Arrow was telling (it kind of sucks that the show found literally nothing they could do with her character so she merely existed in the background — wasted character potential annoys me) so killing Laurel off was the most logical thing to do in that regard. It made sense. She had no trajectory left, and no possible progression. But don't for a moment think Laurel was unimportant to the characters of the show. I think that sometimes we project our opinions onto our characters. If we didn't like Laurel, she must not be of importance to anyone else in the show, either. If you don't like Felicity, you probably think she's pointless, too. We tend to believe that whatever we feel toward a character is also felt by the fictional characters in the show.
That's not the case. Laurel Lance died as a hero, and she died as a woman that everyone cared about. I might not have loved her, but that doesn't mean Team Arrow felt the same way. Laurel is, if you think about it, the last person who tethered Oliver to the life he once knew and the person he once was. Though we know Sara is alive and thriving on Legends of Tomorrow, Laurel is — in a way — the only family Oliver and Thea had left. And now, with their father and mother both gone, Oliver and Thea only have one another as blood relatives, and their bond will always be the most important one in the show to me (sorry, Oliver/Felicity).
And in spite of their absolutely rocky and sometimes destructive relationship, Laurel cared for Oliver and he cared about her. She reminded him of who he used to be and how far he has come.
This all circles back around to why I'm frustrated with people saying that
Arrow killed off Black Canary. No, they did not.
Arrow did not do away with a comic book legend — they did away with Laurel Lance. And to make the two inseparable is to reduce Laurel to nothing more than a costume. Laurel was a dynamic character, and her death is about much more than the loss of a black costume and a mask. In not understanding this, in claiming that
Arrow has done the unthinkable, has rejected canon (which, FYI, you should all totally read
this piece in which the author explains how canon only exists in our heads; it's BRILLIANT), you're saying that Laurel only had value to you because of the costume she wore.
The character of the Arrow on this show has been many people — it's been Ra's, Diggle, and Roy for starters. And yet the death of the Arrow would not be the death of the show. Because there's a fluidity in terms of comic book characters. Your version of Black Canary might have died, but that is YOUR version of her. Perhaps someone reading the Green Arrow comics believes that version to be canon — not Stephen Amell. And perhaps you read those same comics and your version of Black Canary is the written one, not the one on this show. And that's totally and completely fine.
My canon version of Batman will always be Christian Bale. My canon version of Spiderman is Andrew Garfield. An no matter how many people in the past, present, or future embody Iron Man, my canon version will always be Robert Downey, Jr. Are those versions canon for you? Perhaps yes, or perhaps no. And that's the point. It would be absolutely absurd for us to think that ten, twenty, or thirty years down the line our grandchildren will not be reading comics or watching movies and television shows with different versions of the characters we once knew — that they won't also be claiming that their canonical version of a character is the only one.
(Literally, this happens with my best friend's parents who watched Doctor Who as they grew up. My best friend's Doctor is David Tennant; theirs is Tom Baker. See? Different canons; same character!)
So what happens when you say that the show killed Black Canary is that you project your personal canon and demand that everyone embrace it. Black Canary, to some people, will be Laurel Lance. To some people, it will be the comic book character only. But you cannot equate the two. You cannot say that everyone's canon needs to be a single epitomization of a character. And the problem these days with Arrow is that people demand that. People demand that the writers do things exactly like they're done in the comics, with Green Arrow and Black Canary getting married. Hey, if you ship those two in the comics, more power to you.
But understand that there is no one true canon and there never will be. In projecting comic "canon" onto Arrow, you're completely missing the point of a show that's an adaptation of the characters from those comics. So no, Arrow did not kill Black Canary. They killed the character who embodied their version of the comic book hero.
Whew. We good?
THERE'S A GRIEF THAT CAN'T BE SPOKEN...
There are a few things to know about the plot of "Canary Cry," but I honestly don't think they're of extreme significance (everyone plays the blame game except, refreshingly, Oliver; a teenage girl dresses up like the Black Canary because her parents were killed in Darhk's gas chamber; the team decides to do stuff). What's really significant in this episode is how everyone deals with the loss of Laurel. Oliver refuses to blame himself, because he spends the episode flashing back to post-Tommy's death and his interactions with Laurel then.
But Dig, Quentin, and Felicity are the characters experiencing the most shifting grief in the episode. Felicity blames herself for not being there, on the team, to somehow help with getting them out of there before Darhk would have killed Laurel. Oliver reassures Felicity that her guilt is misplaced, but that it's misplaced because in the most difficult, unanswerable circumstances, we cling to any answers we can find. This seems to reset Felicity, and it was a nice scene that allows me to believe in hope for those two as confidantes again. (For the record, I don't want them to get back together before the end of the season but I doubt the showrunners will see eye-to-eye with me on that one. Romance sells sweeps, after all!)
Going into the episode, Dig was the person I knew would be consumed with grief. After all, it was his trust in Andy that led them to Iron Heights and to Laurel's eventual death. If anyone has reason to feel guilt, it's him. And he does. His grief becomes anger — anger at himself, anger at Andy, anger at Darhk, and anger at the injustice of it all. Because Team Arrow keeps swinging and punching and yet, they keep losing. Every single time. Dig lost a good friend because of Darhk, and it's this pain and his perceived hand in it that causes him to lash out in reckless anger at Ruve.
David Ramsey's performance in the moment where Oliver finds and stops him from killing Ruve? So wonderful. There's this intensity there that we haven't seen before (and we have seen a lot of intensity from Diggle), and this raw grief. Oliver confronts Diggle about not becoming the villain of the story, no matter how responsible he feels or how angry he is. Dig's anger is justified, though, when the bad guys keep getting away time and time again. It's painful to watch and even more painful knowing that his friend is gone.
I love Diggle, and I'm glad that Oliver was the one to talk sense into him, but goodness gracious is everyone this season doomed to have an identity crisis? I understand that this is the primary theme of comic book shows, but it feels a lot like spinning wheels lately. One week, Oliver is doubting himself; the next, Diggle is. Thea's already had identity crises this season, and so has Felicity. I'm all for parallelism in themes and stuff, but this episode felt like it had no idea what other layer it could use plot/conflict-wise and decided to fall back on the old "we can't lash out, no matter how bad we are feeling" lesson that Oliver learns about fifty times a season.
... THERE'S A PAIN GOES ON AND ON
Quentin Lance deserves his own section of this review because his grief is unlike the grief of anyone else — a fact he states to Oliver in the episode. How many times can Quentin lose a daughter before he breaks? Well, apparently this is the point of no return. Because this time, there is no Lazarus Pit to bring her back. There is no magic that Nyssa can provide. Laurel is actually gone. And the worst part is that Quentin has lost his rock. The relationship between Quentin and Laurel always seemed to be a lot closer than that of Quentin and Sara. I always had the sense that Sara was closer to her mother (I'm closer to my mom in a lot of ways than my dad).
But Quentin and Laurel understood one another. They were cut from the same cloth — resilient, stubborn, with the same love for people and protecting them. They both suffered from the same addiction, too; their pain was shared. But it was more than that. No matter how rough their relationship, Laurel never left. She always stayed. She was there for her dad even when no one else was — even when her mother left. Laurel was there for her dad through AA meetings and the worst days and the best days. She might not have always said or done the right thing, but these two were a team. They loved and understood one another deeply, even when they didn't agree with each other.
Laurel was Quentin's rock. She was his steady support — his comfort and his constant. And losing her hurts in different ways than losing Sara. When Sara died, Quentin lost his baby. When Laurel died, he lost his rock. And though he spends a majority of the episode in denial, it's plausible because... well, this show did bring back Sara a few times, and everyone who is presumed dead nearly always returns alive. So watching Quentin unravel around Oliver was so difficult to watch and so painful, and yet so beautifully acted.
At the end of "Canary Cry," Oliver gives a moving eulogy for Laurel in which he reveals to the attendants that she was the Black Canary. He does this because Laurel's legacy was on the verge of being tarnished by a sixteen year-old girl in the episode's plot (yeah, a sixteen year-old girl outsmarted and nearly bested Team Arrow... wow, they suck). In order to ensure that everyone knew Laurel died as a hero, he revealed her to be not just a woman who fought for justice in the daylight, but fought for people every moment of every day.
Laurel was not without her faults, but I think that this episode served as a nice reminder that while the mask of the Black Canary can be picked up by literally anyone, it was Laurel's drive and ambition, sometimes to the point of recklessness, that made her the hero she lived and died as.
Observations & favorite moments:
- Paul Blackthorne was the MVP for this episode. I... don't even have words to describe his brilliant portrayal of a grieving father. It was truly a tour de force.
- This is the first week in a long time we haven't seen Lian Yu flashbacks. PRAISE THE LORD! NO MORE BLAND FLASHBACK CHICK! Instead, we got (pretty retconned) flashbacks with Oliver and Laurel. They made very little sense since they all took place post-Tommy's death and apparently Oliver and Laurel still had feelings for one another then? I honestly have no idea what the writers were thinking about, but sure, I'll totally believe that Oliver was in love with Laurel before he went away for a few months to the island. Whatever you say, show. I've stopped questioning most things at this point anyway.
- This episode had amazing performances but overall was kinda "meh." It's not a bad episode, but I found myself being a little bored halfway through, especially when it came to Faux Canary's story.
- Oliver calls himself "the world's leading expert in blaming yourself." Seems accurate.
- I get that the Canary Cry is cool because of frequency and all of that, but man it's kind of a one-trick pony. After a few too many uses in this episode, it just became irritating.
- Nyssa returned and I love her still.
- "Sometimes we just need a reason when a situation is completely unreasonable."
- Can we please discuss the fact that Felicity has trackers on everyone? I mean, I guess it's to keep them safe but uh, last season everyone was rightfully horrified when Oliver said he tracked Laurel to do the same thing. And Dig didn't know he had a tracker on him. So how is this any different? No thank you, show. No thank you.
- "You cannot forget who you are. And we? We can never become them." If we made a BINGO game out of phrases from this show, I'm pretty sure "don't forget who you are" would be on one of them.
- "She's always been there — she's my rock. ... She WAS my rock." Ohhhhhhhhh, my sweet Quentin. That hurt. It really hurt.
- "You're just one illegitimate child away from an awesome Oliver Queen impersonation." You don't even deserve this ray of sunshine, Oliver.
- Alex Kingston made her triumphant, straight-haired, American-accented return! Now go find a way to be on Legends of Tomorrow so you can reunite with Arthur Darvill, please. Thanks.
- Barry, my sweet prince, returned.
- "You have to find a way now. For Laurel. For the city. For all of us."
What did you all think of "Canary Cry"? Are you looking forward to the return of Andy Diggle? Hit up the comments below and let me know your thoughts!