
There's very little immediacy in the episode and too much dithering. We can breathe a huge sigh of relief that Lang fails to shoot the always mesmerising Alexander Mahone, but it took plenty of time - and plot padding - before he launches his escape plan.
The return of Charles Westmoreland in Scofield's surgery-induced visions fails to raise much excitement, being little more than a token gesture to longterm fans of the series. The grand unveiling of the Scylla conundrum seems to have been taken from a very famous noticeboard scene in The Usual Suspects while Lincoln's eventual betrayal of his brother, as he pledges allegiance to The Company, feels very awkward and forced indeed.
As for Sucre's departure, it only serves to remind us of the character's sheer lack of development and exposure in recent weeks. It feels like he left the show to hook up with his beloved Mariecruz ages ago.
Fortunately, the performances within the episode are all highly watchable, especially Michael Rappaport as the slimy Self, and the action is stylishly filmed and edited. The anaesthetic had better wear off before next week, though.

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