Fringe: benefits, a look back at the Weirdest Show on TV (retrospective).
Larks, let us dwell on Fringe, that peculiar scifi TV series concoction of the bizarre and the brilliant, where science fiction isn’t just a genre but a playground for the imagination! Picture this: a world where the implausible becomes routine and the line between possible and preposterous is as blurry as a hungover Observer after a night out.
Enter the stage, Fringe Division, the FBI’s answer to “What on Earth was that?!” Led by the unflappable Olivia Dunham, a woman so cool she could probably ice-skate on her own resolve, this team dives headfirst into the world of the weird. Then there’s Walter Bishop, the Einstein of eccentricity, a man whose brain operates on frequencies that even FM radio can’t pick up. And Peter Bishop? He’s the guy you call when you need to solve an interdimensional Rubik’s cube while defusing a quantum bomb.
Set against the backdrop of Boston (because, why not throw some clam chowder into the mix of cosmic anomalies?), Fringe flirts with fringe science like it’s going out of style. Transhumanist experiments gone awry? Check. Technological apocalypses in the Tuesday forecast? Double-check. Inter-universe travel for the weekend trip? You bet.
The charm of Fringe isn’t just in its mind-bending plot twists or its flirtation with the fantastic. It’s the show’s courage to dip its toes into the unknown, often jumping with both feet. Fringe, which draws inspiration from titans of the genre, combines the procedural with the peculiar in a cocktail of episodes that could easily switch between The Twilight Zone and CSI without spilling a drop.
Initially met with skepticism—because let’s face it, who trusts television executives to keep a good sci-fi show running?—Fringe won hearts by diving deep into its own mythology. Parallel universes? Alternate timelines? A narrative so complex that you’d need a PhD in Fringe-ology to follow along? Yes, please. Despite battling the infamous “Friday night death slot,” the series cultivated a cult following faster than you could say “quantum entanglement.” Awards nodded in their direction, while the fandom erected its own shrine in the series’ honour, complete with comic books, games, and novels to keep the flame burning.
The mere thought of a Season 6 for Fringe tickles the imagination like Walter Bishop in a candy store! Given the show’s penchant for twisting reality and bending the fabric of its universe, there’s no shortage of avenues they could explore. Let’s concoct a premise odd enough to make even the Observers raise an eyebrow.
Elevator Pitch for… Fringe: Resurgence
The curtain rises on a peaceful world, and the nightmare of the Observer-dominated future is averted thanks to the valiant efforts of the Fringe team. Life in 2015 goes on blissfully unaware of the bullet dodged, with Peter, Olivia, and Etta enjoying the mundane joys of family life. But this is Fringe, where normal is just a setting on the washing machine. Out of the blue, anomalies start popping up again, but they’re different this time, almost as if reality itself is glitching. Buildings flicker in and out of existence, people suddenly find themselves transported to random locations, and time loops plague the city streets.
The Fringe Division, now more of a legend than a functioning unit, is reassembled to face this new threat. The twist? These anomalies are not originating from another universe or the future; they’re echoes of what could have been, remnants of the erased Observer future bleeding into the present. Investigations lead the team to uncover a chilling truth: when they reset the timeline, not everything was sealed neatly. A crack, imperceptible yet profound, has formed in the fabric of reality, a lingering scar from the universe’s near-collapse. Through this crack, elements of the Observer’s future are seeping into the present, threatening to merge two timelines into a chaotic amalgam.
To mend the breach, the team needs to understand the future they prevented. This means diving into the remnants of Observer technology and lore, piecing together their knowledge and intent. The heart-stopping twist? They’ll need to ally with a reformed Observer, one who has retained his memories of the future that never was and is horrified by the role his kind would have played.
As the boundary between the timelines becomes ever more tenuous, the team must confront not just the physical manifestations of the future but the philosophical quandary of their actions. In saving the world, did they condemn it to a different form of chaos? The climax would see a daring plan to seal the crack, likely involving a sacrifice that echoes the show’s recurring themes of love, loss, and the quest for redemption. In true Fringe fashion, the resolution would be bittersweet. The breach is sealed, but at a cost. Yet, in its wake, the team emerges more united, their bonds strengthened by the trials they faced. And as the camera pans out over a finally peaceful Boston, we’re left with a lingering question: in a universe of infinite possibilities, what does the future truly hold?
Yes, chums, Fringe is a testament to the unyielding appeal of the genre, a blend of heart, intellect, and the unequivocally odd. It dared to ask, “What if?” and waited patiently, often with a mischievous twinkle in its eye, for the world to catch up. So here’s to Fringe: the show that proved, once and for all, that there’s no science too fringe for prime time, especially when you’ve got a lab coat as snazzy as Walter Bishop’s. Cheers to the series that wasn’t afraid to mix a bit of the bizarre with its brilliance, making our television landscapes infinitely more interesting.
