Sharp-eyed TV viewers know that the wildest developments tend to unfold in penultimate episodes and that relationship shifts are The Diplomat’s fuel. Even with that understanding, the volume and pace of shifts that occur in “Our Lady of Immaculate Deception” threaten to rev its dramatic engine into the red. Strap in and we’ll break this down.
Whither Margaret Roylin? She is out of immediate danger of bleeding out but probably should go to a hospital, something Roylin rejects out of hand as too dangerous. She didn’t confess and name names only to see the scandal get out and ruin both Trowbridge’s career and splinter the U.K. because she could do with a transfusion and maybe a head CT. Eidra doesn’t want to take Roylin back to the London safe house, but Trowbridge’s refusal to take custody of her until he knows the full extent of the conspiracy within his government ensures that that’s exactly what happens. Even hours later, following a cocktail hour and dinner where he was catatonic and some time spent jotting down everything he can recall from his confrontation with Roylin, Trowbridge’s head is barely any cooler than it was as he was choking her and screaming that she’s a murderer. Any reconciliation between the two seems unlikely.
Once Trowbridge susses out that Kate knew more than he did at every step and suspected he was involved in the attack on HMS Courageous and the subsequent London bombing, he’s pretty much done with her, too, hurling a barrage of rhetorical bombs in her face: she brought him into the room with Roylin to entrap him with a conspiracy in his own government and believed that he was a mass murderer when she said he was the quickest thinker she’d met since meeting Hal. There’s no denying any of it, and matters do not improve when Kate tries to have a quick word with Dennison as he’s heading to the motorcade back to London. His frosty farewell — “you’ve done quite enough, Ambassador” — when translated into regular English from Dennison’s Exceedingly Well-Mannered dialect is the rough equivalent of “fuck off and die, you foolish and possibly evil hag.” Ouch. Seeing him hop into Trowbridge’s SUV must feel like having a bucket of lemon juice dumped on many full-body paper cuts, and Kate’s just got to hope that things will look less terrible in the morning.
There’s scarcely time to think about how much easier things might be after a good night’s sleep, because — surprise! — something in Eidra’s overnight briefing to Langley on the situation with Roylin has shaken loose enough international relations doohickeys to prompt Grace Penn (Theeeeee Allison Janney, at last!) to ditch her previously scheduled visit to a school in Bethesda for a quick jaunt across the Atlantic. She’s there for the express purpose of supporting the British at this trying time. Sure! In the wee hours, poor Stuart takes the call announcing the VP’s arrival and is very diligently trying to glean from Billie and Eidra any details that might help him identify moments to pull Kate out of one of her meetings with Penn, but keeps hearing things that stun and trouble him. The CIA and U.S. Embassy have been “up on the PM”? “Up on” in the manner of The Wire? As in, a phone tap? A literal sting operation?! What else doesn’t he know about? Trowbridge is in the clear? Great, but also, now it’s his turn to tell Eidra that “it’s starting to look like I’m not the problem anymore. What the fuck are you doing?”
For her part, Kate is prepped to brief the VP but is also the most flustered we’ve seen her lately — as she and Hal approached Winfield after disembarking from Marine Two, they caught a glimpse of Penn from the lawn, and even at that distance, it was obvious from her body language that she knows about Kate being shortlisted to take her job, and she knows that Kate knows that she knows. After a few awkward stop-and-starts, they find their groove, and each has the opportunity to be impressed by and curious about the other. Penn finds it interesting that everyone calls on Kate when they have intelligence to share and doesn’t seem convinced by Kate’s explanation that she’s the beneficiary of proximity and good teamwork. Kate is dazzled by Penn’s grasp of the potentially catastrophic longish-term consequences to all of European democracy should Scotland successfully secede from the U.K.
The Diplomat has always been good at playing with the audience’s history with its actors, and by adding Allison Janney to the cast, that aspect of the series has shifted into a higher gear. I can’t not see Kate Wyler as a distant cousin of Elizabeth Jennings, Keri Russell’s Soviet superspy character in The Americans, and it’s fun to think about all of the cads Rufus Sewell has played over the years, then learning that his Hal Wyler is so faithful to Kate that he literally can’t get it up for any other woman. Now we are treated to seeing Allison Janney draw on her years as The West Wing’s C.J. Cregg, ensuring that Grace Penn instantly radiates both authority and warmth. Whether we should trust any of those sense memories is an open question; I hate roller coasters, but I am having a splendid time not knowing whether my years of accumulated associations with the characters Russell and Janney have previously played will be affirmed or confounded as their characters’ arcs unfold.
All of this to say, the transition Penn leads Trowbridge through in her and Kate’s meeting with him and Dennison is both troubling and riveting. Kate shifts into staff-in-the-room mode, sitting quietly and saying little as she observes the woman whose shoes she’s meant to fill smooth Trowbridge’s feathers, assert and lay claim to a support role he didn’t understand that he needed, then plant the seed of simply not making public any details of the Lenkof affair and wait to watch it flourish. Kate has described certain aspects of her relationship with Hal as magic; this is akin to watching a guy who likes to practice card tricks discover the genius of Ricky Jay.
I don’t think it’s good that the United Kingdom is going to remain united on the basis of a conspiracy and mass murder swept under the rug (bold, I know), but Kate, Grace, and Trowbridge all seem to be happy enough about it. The only person who leaves that meeting unsatisfied and perturbed is Austin Dennison. He takes his leave of Winfield disgusted with Kate and coldly states that Roylin shouldn’t look forward to any protection from the government. As far as he’s concerned, she can keep her doors locked at home if she’s that concerned for her safety. Will we see her alive again? Who knows!
I’d been thinking that it’s possible that Dennison is too good for politics, but maybe he’s not such a cinnamon roll, after all. On the other hand, Kate seems to have moved immediately from a seemingly principled insistence on justice for the fallen to a pragmatic (or is it cynical? Potato, poTAHto) embrace of maintaining the status quo. If I were Dennison, learning that my professed ally is no longer in my corner, I’d probably be reeling and have a few choice words for her, too. I’m also very curious to see how Dennison’s current alliance with Trowbridge is going to play out. Trowbridge choosing not to relinquish his premiership keeps Dennison from advancing in government, and is Trowbridge’s commitment to anyone really rock solid?
The remainder of the episode is studded with scenes I have been waiting for all season: Penn and Kate getting down to brass tacks with the visual language and requirements of being a female vice-president and the two of them having an after dinner heart-to-heart over whiskeys, during which Kate decides she’s going to help Penn fight to serve out the remainder of her term. I know I’m not the only one who’s been on tenterhooks for these developments, because the two-minute sneak peek that appeared on YouTube last week are from the moment that likely outgoing VP Grace Penn gives her likely successor a not-unkind but no doubt unsettling and thorough critique of her look from top to bottom. The hair that looks as if she styled it with an electrified fork and suggests that she’s never heard of dry shampoo, the paperclip holding up her slacks, all of it is subject to scrutiny that’s sharp, yet still far tamer than what Kate would face from a public who are unfamiliar with her game.
More importantly, all of these interactions with Penn lead Kate to find herself entirely on the VP’s side. Trowbridge gets to stay in office, and so should this brilliant, capable woman. Solidarity, yay! There’s just one thing, which Hal now must wrestle Kate into the mattress to get her to hear: Roylin may have hired the Lenkov Group, but the idea to do so was Grace Penn’s.
Tea, Scones, and Intrigue
• Blink and you’ll miss Trowbridge refer to bomb-setter Leonard Stendig as “a toad in a Brioni,” a perfect insult that also immediately conjures a mental image of the Italian menswear brand’s most famous current customer.
• Do Secret Service details for the president and vice president always travel with a cooler of blood in case an emergency transfusion situation transpires? Is it type-specific? Is it the principal protectee’s own blood, drawn and saved for this purpose? Does everyone just refer to it as “The Blood”?