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elrhiarhodanThinky Thoughts on Seminal Scenes is a series of essays, originally written for White Collar Fixation, that explores a specific scene or group of scenes in each episode of White Collar. Sometimes I focus on a scene I like (most of the time), other times, I'll take a look at a scene that (to me) doesn't really work.
Because I am an orderly and (somewhat) organized type of person, I am beginning with Pilot and working my way forward, episode by episode. I know that some of these scenes (particularly for Pilot) have analyzed to death, but I hope you find a nugget of something interesting and worth commenting on.
There were so many scenes in Pilot that made me fall in love with White Collar - and keep making me fall in love all over again each time I watch it (and I confess to watching it quite frequently). But none is more emotionally powerful than the quiet moment of dialogue between Peter and Neal in the office, when Peter’s begging for help with his anniversary gift and asks Neal about the wine bottle.
I’ve always had mixed emotions about the story Neal tells (more on that below), but there is one thing that always struck me about this scene. It is the first time that Peter looks at Neal and sees something more than a very clever criminal – he really sees Neal as a man, and quite possibly an equal. It’s not so much in the dialogue, but in the puzzled and then finally understanding look he gives Neal. And Neal too comes to see Peter as something more than a means to an end, a way to stay out of jail and maybe get part of his life back.
It’s a quiet moment shared between two adults, it is so beautifully acted, aching in its intensity, and I can’t think of anything in recent television quite like it. Now, I admit to not watching much series television, but when was the last time you saw two men talking about the women in their lives with such deep respect, or without resorting to sexual innuendo, or barely concealed frustration or outright contempt?
And yet, over the last year and a half, I’ve vacillated between believing Neal’s story and thinking he’s the greatest conman ever. We learned, over the course of Season One and Season Two, that Neal has (or maybe now, had) considerable financial assets – enough to buy and run a bakery (Free Fall), to enable Neal to run far and fast (Hard Sell), to buy Neal out of prison (Withdrawal) and to give ten thousand to the FBI (Need to Know). Beyond that, Neal always seems a little insouciant about getting cash.
So his claim that when he and Kate met, “they had nothing” seemed contradictory to the canon over the course of a season and a half. Neal was supposed to be a nearly unstoppable forger with infinite resources at his fingertips, and yet he’s reduced to eating cold pizza (why, was it cheaper than hot?) and using an empty wine bottle as a romantic gesture (“the promise of a better life). When I think about Neal’s story, it seems a little overly precious, and quite possibly a cynical ploy to gain Peter’s sympathies – even though Neal has stated that he’s never outright lied to Peter (which is canonically correct).
Of course, the whole truth about the wine bottle – it’s origin and meaning – as well as Neal’s actual (not apparent) lack of funds was fully explained in Season Two’s flashback episode, Forging Bonds. Mozzie had gotten the bottle, filled it with cheap plonk, and re-corked it for Neal to give to Adler as he wormed his way into the financier’s inner circle. According to a tweet from Jeff Eastin, the wine had been served at the party and Mozzie recovered it and gave it back to Neal. We don’t know if this had been in Jeff Eastin’s thoughts at the time he wrote the story.
It’s also the real beginning of a wonderful friendship.
Because I am an orderly and (somewhat) organized type of person, I am beginning with Pilot and working my way forward, episode by episode. I know that some of these scenes (particularly for Pilot) have analyzed to death, but I hope you find a nugget of something interesting and worth commenting on.
“Help me out here, you’re the romantic. What’s the deal with the bottle?”
There were so many scenes in Pilot that made me fall in love with White Collar - and keep making me fall in love all over again each time I watch it (and I confess to watching it quite frequently). But none is more emotionally powerful than the quiet moment of dialogue between Peter and Neal in the office, when Peter’s begging for help with his anniversary gift and asks Neal about the wine bottle.
I’ve always had mixed emotions about the story Neal tells (more on that below), but there is one thing that always struck me about this scene. It is the first time that Peter looks at Neal and sees something more than a very clever criminal – he really sees Neal as a man, and quite possibly an equal. It’s not so much in the dialogue, but in the puzzled and then finally understanding look he gives Neal. And Neal too comes to see Peter as something more than a means to an end, a way to stay out of jail and maybe get part of his life back.
 |
It’s a quiet moment shared between two adults, it is so beautifully acted, aching in its intensity, and I can’t think of anything in recent television quite like it. Now, I admit to not watching much series television, but when was the last time you saw two men talking about the women in their lives with such deep respect, or without resorting to sexual innuendo, or barely concealed frustration or outright contempt?
And yet, over the last year and a half, I’ve vacillated between believing Neal’s story and thinking he’s the greatest conman ever. We learned, over the course of Season One and Season Two, that Neal has (or maybe now, had) considerable financial assets – enough to buy and run a bakery (Free Fall), to enable Neal to run far and fast (Hard Sell), to buy Neal out of prison (Withdrawal) and to give ten thousand to the FBI (Need to Know). Beyond that, Neal always seems a little insouciant about getting cash.
So his claim that when he and Kate met, “they had nothing” seemed contradictory to the canon over the course of a season and a half. Neal was supposed to be a nearly unstoppable forger with infinite resources at his fingertips, and yet he’s reduced to eating cold pizza (why, was it cheaper than hot?) and using an empty wine bottle as a romantic gesture (“the promise of a better life). When I think about Neal’s story, it seems a little overly precious, and quite possibly a cynical ploy to gain Peter’s sympathies – even though Neal has stated that he’s never outright lied to Peter (which is canonically correct).
 |
It’s also the real beginning of a wonderful friendship.
