This week on Good Omens, we’re taking a trip down memory lane. And angels and demons happen to have very long memories, so we’re going all the way back to 4004 B.C. When we left off last week, Aziraphale had just figured out the identity of the real antichrist. Although he’d promised to tell Crowley, saying, “Of course I will, we’re friends,” this episode is called “Hard Times,” so something tells me things aren’t going to go well for our angel-demon duo. But first, a cold open that takes up over twenty minutes of airtime. Because what’s better than David Tennant in a red wig? David Tennant in half a dozen red wigs!
1. Meet-cutes through the ages
Aziraphale and Crowley met on the wall of the Garden of Eden in the first episode. But in the first half-hour of episode three, they keep meeting-cute through the early stages of human civilization, first by accident and then by design. We see biblical events such as the great flood and the crucifixion through the eyes of immortal observers who comment on the events from the sidelines. Skipping through time (and fashion), Aziraphale and Crowley bear witness to the good and bad humanity has to offer, from Shakespeare’s plays to the savagery of the guillotine.
Each scene is a short glimpse into how they’ve changed (or not) as time goes by. Crowley consistently questions decisions made by God, wondering aloud why She needs to wipe out the human race just to prove a point or crucify Christ for telling everyone to be kind. Aziraphale remains somewhat stalwart in his insistence that there must be a “great plan” but gradually comes to accept that his bosses in Heaven probably aren’t paying too much attention to the events on earth.
2. A no-score draw. Or, we have a lot in common, you and me
As time goes by, Crowley and Aziraphale realize that they’re essentially working towards a draw rather than a win. Every move Crowley makes just counters one of Aziraphale’s until the whole thing ends up like a tied soccer match that no one’s watching. They strike up an arrangement where they take turns copying each other’s homework and submitting it to Heaven or Hell, respectively.
As they meet, in places like a deserted Globe Theatre (because no one wants to watch Hamlet — it’s too depressing) or a cell in the Bastille, Aziraphale and Crowley banter and bicker and debate the actions of their bosses. Meanwhile, we get to see David Tennant and Michael Sheen in an impressive array of costumes and wigs. They don robes in Rome, suits of armor worthy of King Arthur’s Round Table, doublets for Elizabethan England, and a particularly frilly frock for Aziraphale’s stint as a damsel in distress during the French Revolution. Each scene is a delightful glimpse into a particular time period and really shows off the meticulous set dressing and costume work that went into the making of the show.
(Each scene pokes fun at historical events, too, with the same irreverent sense of humor of the rest of Good Omens. Nazis tasked with obtaining mystical artifacts for Hitler get a taste of Agnes Nutter’s true prophecies — several decades too early for “Don’t buy Betamax” to be of use to anyone. And when Crowley orders “whatever’s drinkable” in ancient Rome, he receives a jug of the “house brown,” whatever that is.)
3. Breaking up is hard to do
Crowley is, ultimately, a demon. Although he is consistently compassionate for humans, lazy about doing bad deeds, and clearly cares for Aziraphale, he does report to the big man downstairs. He makes a request to Aziraphale for holy water, which we learn is the only thing that will actually kill a demon. Unwilling to put Crowley in danger, Aziraphale says no and leaves in what can only be described as a huff. This rift between the two is repaired years later when Crowley saves Aziraphale from the Nazies mentioned earlier and even spares his precious books from destruction, an act that seems to shock Aziraphale into realizing how much he cares about Crowley in return.
In the last of the third episode’s cold open vignettes, set in the neon lights of 1960s Soho, Aziraphale acquiesces, giving Crowley a (suitably stuffy, tartan-patterned) thermos of holy water. The two have a conversation that ends with Aziraphale promising that one day they might go on a picnic together, or dine at the Ritz. It feels like a turning point in the pair’s dynamic, one where they’ve acknowledged how important they are to each other, and made a sort of unspoken promise that the future involves both of them.
Continued below4. Breaking up is hard to do (again)
Episode three of Good Omens shows us how Aziraphale and Crowley came to be co-conspirators in a scheme to stop the apocalypse in the present day by going back and showing us their history together. Seeing how they’ve grown into their current friendship makes their argument at the end of the episode pack more of an emotional punch.
Aziraphale (the angel), having found the antichrist, lies to his heavenly bosses about it, then lies to Crowley. And yet it’s Crowley (the demon) who consistently asks, “would I lie to you?” and then never does lie. Crowley insists that he and Aziraphale are on the same side, even going so far as to beg Aziraphale to run off with him and leave the earth to melt into a puddle of goo. The scene is heart-wrenching to watch, as Crowley paces and rants and pours out his heart only to have Aziraphale deny him at every turn. Michael Sheen does a masterful job of saying one thing with his mouth while his facial expression is saying something completely different. But he doesn’t budge, and Crowley walks off, tossing off a sarcastic, “Have a nice doomsday.”
You may have noticed that parts one through four of this review are basically the beginning plot points of a romcom. That’s because, well, this is a love story and those are the basic beats of a love story. (Don’t @ me, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s longtime assistant say so.) Good Omens is actually about several types of love stories, and I’ll touch on them when we get to episode six. However you want to interpret it, the story of an angel and a demon who decide to save the world they love together is rather romantic and this is the point where our dynamic duo has to part ways so that their eventual reunion has all the emotional weight of the past six thousand years behind it.
5. Hellhounds and housecats, witches and witchfinders
Meanwhile, the antichrist is accompanied by his faithful Hellhound, who finds life on earth to be different than he expected. Filled with cats and interesting smells, to be precise. Always by Adam’s side, the pair visit Anathema’s cottage, where she introduces Adam to new-age schools of thought and, shall we say, “alternative facts.” These ideas swim around in Adam’s head, then manifest in the real world as his powers continue to grow.
Since no one can magically find the antichrist, including Aziraphale and Crowley, they agree to have their human operatives find him instead. Aziraphale and Crowley both put their “best man” on the job — not knowing they’ve hired the same man, and he’s certainly not the best at anything. Witchfinder Sargent Shadwell delegates the job to Newt Pulsifer, descendent of Thou-Shalt-Not-Commit-Adultery Pulsifer, who just so happens to prosecuted Anathema’s ancestor, Agnes Nutter.
Next week, the fallout from Aziraphale’s decision not to reveal Adam’s identity, Anathema and Newt’s fated meeting, and the repercussions of Adam’s newfound power to change the world to his liking.
