Bones Season 5: Why it’s Awesome

Before we begin, a disclaimer: unless you, like me, are a hapless Bones addict, the following will not make any sense whatsoever. Seriously. Obsessive fangirl ranting off the starboard bow! But, if you are a Bones-watcher – and if you haven’t yet embarked on Season 5, or are still slugging through Season 4 – then be ye warned: there are spoilers ahead. I’ve flagged the major points, but if you’d rather not, then either watch out for the caps in brackets, or, you know, keep off the internet.

Otherwise? Let’s rock this joint.

I’ll level with you, Trespass readers: Season 4 of Bones was not good television. It had its moments, but the majority was disappointing, if not downright awkward. What the hell was up with Agent Parotta? Why was every new intern defined by a single distinctive quirk, rather than being granted an actual personality? And that Family Guy cameo? Dear Hart Hanson: there’s a reason why cheesy crossovers are the usual purview of fanfiction. Things looked grim, such that not even the final episode – which, despite the controversy, I loved – could entirely alleviate my worries for Season 5. But sixteen episodes in, I’ve found my fears to be gloriously unjustified, and then some.

Here, at length, is why.

When it comes to TV shows, I have a simple rule of thumb with which to gauge their merits. It’s something akin to a three strikes policy, but based on narrative structure. There’s a reason why so many films and book series tend towards the trilogy format, viz: each volume mirrors a stage in traditional three-act storytelling. First is the set-up; second is character development; third is the big finale. Examine the first three episodes of just about any TV show, and you’ll see the same logic in action. Episode one introduces us to the characters. Episode two tries to draw out their relationships, while episode three provides a more cathartic, significant conflict resolution than the previous two efforts. Episode four is, therefore, the make-or-break moment: we’ve met the regulars in the traditional manner, and now it’s time to see how they’ll fare in the long haul.

One, two, three: a sweet and simple rule. But in TV-land, it also works on a bigger level, because the same pattern applies equally to the passage of multiple seasons. On that scale, three is a nice, round number – a good place to call it quits. But assuming the show keeps going, then Season 4 is where things are bound to get rocky. Of necessity, it’s less the start of a new chapter than it is a bridging device: somewhere to try out new ideas. Hit and miss, is how I’d describe it, with high stakes: sticking to known ploys is safe, but not fresh, while any necessary efforts towards innovation risk alienating the fanbase. But if a TV show can survive its fourth year and make it to five, having passed through the fire with enough gumption to refrain from petering out, then, boy howdy: that season is going to be good.

You see where I’m going with this. But before we get there, a brief refresher as to what preceded it.

Seasons 1 through 3 of Bones established a habit of retconning. Some few incidents smacked of forgetfulness, but these were petty things, incidental and unimportant. Otherwise, the changes were used to good effect, updating the background as the creators came to invest in more detailed histories for their characters. But in Season 4, the practice took on a flavour of desperation. Suddenly, the blips in continuity read less like deliberate changes to the timeline and more like bad writing, severe enough that, at times, the protagonists were drawn as little more than strawman versions of themselves. Brennan was the most severely affected: all previous growth apparently forgotten, she swiftly deteriorated into a state of complete social ineptitude, with Booth reduced to acting the part of a guide dog. With each new intern lazily defined by a signature mannerism – Clark refused to fraternise, Daisy was manic, Fisher was gloomy, Wendell was a tough guy, Vincent obsessively quoted facts, Arastoo was the cheerful and comically-accented Muslim – it began to feel as though subtlety and nuance had been abandoned altogether. The murders, too, became gimmicky, with foaming bones, conjoined twins, a dismembered transvestite and death in a plane among the more inventive conundrums. Add to all this the sudden arrival of Booth’s brother, Cam’s whirlwind adoption of a teenage daughter and a series of utterly ludicrous head trauma hallucinations, and the prognosis for Season 5 did not look good. With such a rocky foundation on which to build, how could the series redeem itself?

And yet, from minute one, the show’s creators have shown themselves willing to learn from their past mistakes. They’ve kept up the retconning, but have returned to employing it with intelligence. Rather than let the errors of Season 4 stand, the extant awkwardness has been taken as a starting point for growth. The interns are a potent case in point: all their governing stereotypes have been softened, if not shattered completely. Clark’s personality has started to emerge. Daisy, with the help of Sweets, has calmed down. Fisher’s unreasonable melancholy has been transmuted into world-weariness, complete with a functional sense of humour. Wendell has ceased to be the token tough guy, with his (SPOILER ALERT) newfound relationship with Angela demonstrating his emotional depth. Vincent has stopped spouting trivia at a rate of knots. And Arastoo, in an extremely clever reversal, has (SPOILER ALERT) lost his accent – or rather, has revealed the fact that it was fake all along, something he affected in order to sound like he’d just got off the boat, so that his scientifically-minded colleagues would feel more comfortable accepting his religion.     

In Season 5, the murders are back on track. There are still moments of subculture and weirdness, but balanced out by more grounded elements, such that the relevant episodes are something to look forward to, and not just a glut of glitz. The scripting has returned to its usual high quality, as have the plots. There is a new sense of camaraderie between Hodgins and the interns, which manages to mirror his previous bond to Zach without threatening, undermining or replacing it – and that is no mean feat. Jared has become more of a relatable character and less a foil for Seeley’s determined protectiveness, while Cam’s relationship with Michelle is being left to grow in an awkward, genuine fashion. The quips are memorable, the writing is sleek, and if there are still flashes of Season 4 to contend with – well, they’re only flashes, and the creators are only human. Cut them a little slack. They are, after all, responsible for producing some highly addictive television.

But, I hear you cry, what of Booth and Brennan, the delicious anticipation of their relationship-that-isn’t? How does the romance play out? People, I have three words for you.

It. Is. Awesome.

One of the trickiest things in television is to try for the Scully-and-Moulder relationship dynamic; to twine two leads so closely together that the success of the show becomes contingent on their almost being together, but not. Past a certain point, the risk is run of creating emotional fatigue in both audience and characters. Too much flirting, and the lack of payoff feels false; too little flirting, and the tension drops away. Notwithstanding Brennan’s startling and poorly referenced desire to have a child at the end of Season 4 – something which, thank the Gods of Narrative, has never been mentioned since – it’s a fine line that the Bones team have successfully walked since the pilot episode, always ensuring that neither protagonist voices their thoughts aloud. It’s a traditional framework, and one that has served multiple shows in good stead. But in Season 5, Hart Hanson has taken a risk, and baby, is it working. Booth (SPOILER ALERT) now openly acknowledges his love for Brennan to the other characters, and with each passing instalment, the build in emotional tension has been palpable.

And on the show’s 100^th episode, they absolutely nail it.

Yes, there’s retconning aplenty – moreso than at any other time, and of significant canonical impact – but it works, and in such a way as to leave the viewer breathless. If the season needed redeeming, which it doesn’t, that single episode would do the job. It’s a big call, given that I don’t know what happens next. But I’m sticking to it, because the writers have regained my trust.

If you’re a fan of Bones, but found yourself put off by the machinations of Season 4, please: give it another chance. The show is back on track, as complex, clever, touching, funny and irresistible than ever. As the tagline points out, solving murder takes chemistry – and Bones has that in spades.

Image credits 1, 2, 3, 4