The meaning of "I forgive you"

Alright, hello again, I involuntarily dipped for a bit because real life outside of this lovely Tumblr Good Omens bubble got a little bit stressful, but! I'm back for a quick little post to say that I'm currently reading the script book for Season 1 and seeing this line again, spelled out on paper, just shone some more light on the whole „I forgive you“-scene of Season 2 for me again.

Because really, this first time Az says it to Crowley in front of the bookshop tells us exactly what the second time during the Final Fifteen means.

Aziraphale is not forgiving Crowley for kissing him. Or for using this moment to confess and make things explicit between them.

No, Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for not trusting and believing (in) him.

Let's shove the Final Fifteen to the side for a second and look at this scene from Season 1 under the cut.

So I have looked and looked at his face during this scene. Trying to gauge some sort of something.

I think I finally realized what it is

These aren’t the best gif examples, but the scenes themselves are. Crowley circles Aziraphale in both scenes. He’s the guard dog sneering at anyone saying don’t come closer. I’m not saying that Aziraphale isn’t Aziraphale. No, he is himself. It’s just that over the years, he got used to Crowley circling him. Guarding him. But now, he knows that he’s not there. For the first time, in a very long time, he is on his own. No one is coming to save him. He has to guard himself.

That’s the face of the Guardian of the Eastern Gate who carries a flaming sword and is ready to start a revolution

Aziraphale didn't choose heaven, he chose humanity. he chose making a difference. he chose trying to fix a fucked up system that does harm by its mere existence. he chose taking the ticking clock hanging over their heads and smashing it to pieces.

and he didn't choose that over Crowley, he chose it over his own happiness, over being near the one person who truly knows him and loves him.

and he did it alone even though that was the last thing he wanted.

So - I have some minor thoughts...

Yes, Aziraphale was acting selflessly to an extent, but they also laid down the line that they thought Crowley being a demon is a defect of Crowley - why *wouldn't* Crowley want to cast off hell and work in heaven??

Crowley has also been clear that they chose inevitably to 'leave heaven' because they asked QUESTIONS OF GOD, which was enough to get them kicked out. Just QUESTIONS. Crowley didn't want to leave in the first place, but everything they do showcases that Crowley wants to change things, understand things - and that means questioning why.

In a magical world where Crowley went with Aziraphale, Crowley would have probably asked questions again and gotten kicked out.

The reason why I think this whole thing is heartbreaking is Aziraphale lays in on the table that being a demon is lesser, that INCLUDES CROWLEY, and Aziraphale thinks that Crowley would love to go back, when Crowley doesn't want to. Crowley doesn't think of themselves as lesser - and it is nearly impossible to be with a partner who thinks that an essential part of your character is a flaw which must be fixed... when asking questions should never be a crime.

nah. I don't think for one second Aziraphale thinks being a demon is a defect of Crowley but a defect of the system itself.

you're right Crowley was kicked out for asking questions, something he clearly doesn't like (he always keeps trying to answer Crowley's questions even to the inevitable conclusion of "it's ineffable" he still tries.) and he sees Crowley trying to do good but being stopped by hell. so the natural conclusion he draws? he'd be happier as an angel. and like Aziraphale being archangel is no small thing. true the metatron will still be there, but Aziraphale wouldn't be a nobody, best believe he'll be protecting Crowley every step of the way. and if/when Aziraphale realizes the forces of heaven are working against him, maybe he'll try a different route, taking Crowley with him.

Aziraphale has a few lines here and there that one might consider condescending to Crowley's demonhood "I'm a great holier than thou, that's the point" "I'm an angel you're a demon, we're hereditary enemies" but I've always always taken them as a sign of inner conflict inside Aziraphale. he sees good, kind Crowley and wonders how the hell is he a demon? it all leads to a rather steep path, one that could lead in Aziraphale falling himself, one where they're together at the end of. but Aziraphale's inner turmoil stops him time and time again, so he lashes out, maybe trying to push Crowley away before he leaves himself, or maybe reminding himself of the danger just talking to Crowley puts them into. if Crowley hated it so much, he wouldn't have come back time and time again.

maybe Aziraphale does think being a demon is lesser - lesser than Crowley. Crowley deserves better. he's trying to give him better.

The key thing to remember when reading Aziraphale's character is: if he has any reason to think Heaven is paying attention, and his lips are moving - he's lying. His truth is in his body language, his behavior, his actions. And what do those things say, consistently.

Time after time they say: I want Crowley to be safe. They say: Crowley you are good, you say things out loud that I only think. They say: Crowley you are too reckless with your own safety! (Which, pot/kettle.) During the Final Fifteen they say: The Metatron is watching and I am terrified and I don't want to go to Heaven but I have to go to Heaven! And every time he looks at Crowley (in Season 1, in Season 2) the body language says: Crowley you are so wonderful and I love you so much it's bursting out of my skin.

The only question is: Did Aziraphale really want Crowley to go with him to Heaven as the only place they could be together, safe, and so they could, between them, make things better for everybody, for humanity and innocent angels like Muriel? Was he perhaps laying down things that Crowley didn't pick up? Or did Crowley pick them up and we haven't seen the trick they pulled yet?

Or did Aziraphale want Crowley to stay safe on Earth and phrase the invitation to go with him in such a way that he knew Crowley couldn't possibly accept it?

Still plumping for my third option: Aziraphale wants Crowley to go with him to Heaven because he honestly thinks it'll take them both to waste the Metatron and stop the Second Coming.

A Purely Selfish Action

I've had the show running in the background while I've been working and this line tripped across my ear and made me realise this is how/why Aziraphale is going to save the world.

He knows the Second Coming is on its way and this time he's front and centre for the ride. The last time it was Armageddon (Antichrist Edition), Crowley appealed to Aziraphale's love of human things to get him on side: food, music, shows, nice wine.

Yes, Aziraphale has other reasons for standing his ground as well, but when it comes down to it, he is selfish. He wants to keep his things and his people safe and comfortable. He likes to be around his people and his things and being promoted to manage the Second Coming has cut him off from all of it. From his bookshop. From his books. From his little part of Soho. From his coffee shops and restaurants and the Ritz. And, most importantly, from Crowley.

There's a lot of mess surrounding their final interaction, both of them speaking at cross-purposes and actively not understanding why the other is doing what they are doing, but there can be no mistake that there is the love there. And I have absolutely zero doubts that the Metatron used Crowley as leverage against Aziraphale in ways we didn't see - there's a reason we were only shown parts of that conversation.

In Aziraphale's mind, if they're on the same side, then Crowley is safe. He's thought that since S1. "Heaven will win, of course". "You were an angel once". When Crowley rejects that, it is precisely a rejection of that - Heaven and angeldom and stepping back into that rut. Crowley makes it crystal clear that he would be happy with just Aziraphale. The love is there, from both sides. Instead of one saying "come away with me" we got the double-whammy "come away with me".

I'm absolutely certain that being stuck back in Heaven is Aziraphale's worst nightmare, especially without his emotional support demon. And the bigger the threat of Armageddon 2.0 grows, the more he realises what he will lose.

I don't doubt that any threat to Crowley will activate every Guardian instinct in that fluffy angel's head. Aziraphale has spent many a happy time letting Crowley rescue him from dangerous situations, but if anyone - anyone - threatens harm to his demon, Aziraphale Will Not Care For It.

I am so here for the territorial fierce Guardian of the Eastern Gate who puts his foot down and says "No, actually, this is my world, that is my city, that is my demon, and you are not destroying them, thank you very much. If you want to get to them you have to go through me and thank you very much for giving me all the powers of the highest of Archangels :)"

Because look, Aziraphale may choose to be soft and kind and good, but God didn’t give him that flaming sword for no reason.

.  .  .

They are taking a walk in the park, at twilight, because it’s something to do and they both stubbornly, silently keep finding reasons to be in the same space in the days after Armageddidn’t. Aziraphale can putter around the bookshop all day, but Crowley eventually gets restless and has to move. And so they take walks.

It happens so fast. There’s a shape, a sudden movement that Crowley registers as DANGER, and a split second to recognize the rotten-sweet scent of demon. There’s no time to run, to fight, not even time to snap his fingers to stop time, but somehow time to think Knew it was too good to be true—

The air splits open with a titanic crash. There is no lightning, but his ears pop and the park suddenly smells strongly of ozone. Whoever or whatever had run at them was gone, replaced by a charred spot on the grass that heals itself over as he watches.

He looks over at Aziraphale in shock and registers two things. The first is that nothing has changed about the angel’s posture or appearance, except his eyes, which bear the most chilling look of stone-cold fury Crowley has ever seen. The second is that Aziraphale has grabbed on to Crowley’s wrist with an iron grip.

“Angel?” Crowley says quietly, as soon as he can hear his own voice over the pounding of his heart. “Did a demon just try to kill us?”

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Men Behaving Even More Remarkably Badly: Granada Holmes Rewatch, “The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax”

I’d like to thank everyone who encouraged me, in the comments on my writeup of The Hound of the Baskervilles, to forge ahead with the Case-Book episodes. To be honest, I didn’t get a lot of enjoyment out of either HOB or The Sign of Four. When I found out that Trevor Bowen, who was responsible for the HOB script, also wrote the screenplay for “Frances Carfax,” I feared the worst. But it turns out that like Frances Carfax’s burial, my eulogy for this show was premature. Brett still looks like he’s been through hell, but he now seems to have come out the other side. His face is ravaged; but otherwise, his Holmes seems much more his old self. The voice is back, the energy is (partly) back, and in general there’s just a lot more acting going on. This is also a great episode for Hardwicke; I haven’t been this interested in his Watson since “Devil’s Foot.” I even like Trevor Bowen’s definitely not by-the-book adaptation…until the last five minutes, when it STABBED ME in the HEART.

This episode also had a good director, and it really shows. Madden went on to make feature films, and you can see a lot of care and attention and creativity that went into shooting this which was just completely absent in HOB. I particularly love what he did with the fight in the bank–and I love the cut from Holmes turning around with a stricken look on his face as Lady Frances Carfax disappears AGAIN to this shot right here of these two lunkheads sitting silent and ashamed in 221B while Holmes tries–to borrow a phrase made immortal by @lyndsayfaye–to ‘murder them with his eyeballs.’

@lyndsayfaye​ coined that phrase in this post about “The Solitary Cyclist,” and in fact I saw a lot of ways in which Bowen’s adaptation brings this story into close relationship with “Solitary Cyclist.” I will be talking about that behind ye olde ‘read more’ tag. In this version of “Frances Carfax,” we see Holmes and Watson once again kicking into overdrive to try to save a woman from destruction at the hands of a male predator; but it doesn’t work out so very well this time around. Each of the three men in this image is driven, at some point in this episode, to say, “I blame myself.” And on one level, they should. But on another level, it’s really not their fault. In this story, they’re in a universe where the rules Holmes and Watson played by in “Solitary Cyclist” no longer work–because, despite some of the things Bowen’s done to it, this story is still much more pessimistic about female agency than “Solitary Cyclist” was. 

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And this episode has a bonus Weeping Angel!

Actually, I have no way of knowing whether Moffat ever engaged with this series…but I wanted to just say a couple things about John Madden’s direction of this episode, and the angel is a good place to start. 

The angel is here for a practical purpose, which is to establish where Holmes and Watson are rushing off to (the cemetery where the two-person coffin is going to be buried). OK, fine, that’s pretty conventional. But–and alas, I don’t know how to make a GIF of this–the *way* they do this establishing shot is what the Holmes of “Naval Treaty” would call an extra. The camera moves up and over the outstretched arm and head, and between her two extended wings we can see the Schlessinger funeral party entering the grounds:

The angel eventually passes out of the shot as the camera pans along her wingtip. The next thing we see is Watson, inside the cab in which he and Holmes are racing to the rescue. When they finally charge the funeral, the angel comes back into frame:

So if you push on it you can come up with a symbolic reading here having to do with guardian angels: the angel is lifting up one hand, which you can interpret as either pointing up to heaven or blessing/protecting the person in the grave below. If the angel’s a protecting figure, though, she’s pretty ineffective; she is not actually going to get down from that pedestal and do anything. Watson, one could argue, is–as the guy who just tried to take down the guy he thought was Lady Frances’s abductor–is another guardian angel, of pure intentions but dubious effectiveness. As they come charging in here, the angel moves away left out of shot: step aside, stony one, the real live guardian angels are here to save the day! But they don’t, really; and the scene ends with Holmes, who is kind of dressed like an undertaker, walking away from the camera into the cemetery, with the angel nowhere in sight.

But whether any of this was intended or not, it really matters to an episode when the director is going to this kind of trouble. The swooping camera movement makes us feel as if we too are descending on the scene, and increases the sense of urgency that this episode needs. So kudos to you, John Madden, for helping make this one of the good ones. I know you’ve done stuff since then that you were probably more into and that brought you more money and fame; but thanks anyway for loving your work even when it was ‘just’ TV.

RB for cinematography discussion.