Continuum: “Revolutions Per Minute”
(Episode: 3.10)

In the first half of “Revolutions Per Minute,” Kiera remarks to Carlos that she “doesn’t like secrets.” She’s the matured hypocrite, having lied herself sick, like a week of subsistence on rice cakes. “Revolutions” is Alka-Seltzer; in incremental doses, truths come out. Most of the season’s tension has come from withholding. These people, in other lives, often operated outside of acceptable conduct for the sake of each other. They followed rules, but they had hearts. This season had to depart from that, and finally, we’re seeing some consequence.
We might’ve expected more uncanniness throughout. Season Three has been more fascinated with than horrified by the doublings. Uncanniness is the brain’s inability to compute a paradoxical self-reflective reality. Continuum isn’t a show that ever displays “ERROR.” Instead, Kiera’s strangely settled into complacency. She seems over the particulars of Alec’s betrayal. Initially, it was that he hijacked her only vehicle back to her family. How, then, do we reconcile Kiera growing adversarial towards the Freelancers? Oddly, in her bigges panic about her original goal, her stakes flipped. The present weighs more heavily on her than her home.
In the scope of the season, the introversion is sweeter in concept than execution. But the dynamic between personal history, present, and progression fuel this episode. Carlos and Young Sadler have othered Kiera from the start. She’s a fill-in. Their memories and experiences together aren’t shared. To them, she is Masahiro Mori’s prosthetic hand;. We can’t blame them. But “Revolutions Per Minute” extracts confrontation: What do you mean to me?
By the end, the question is addressed directly. Carlos finds the subzero tomb bodiless and clean. Young Sadler counters his anger with funeral arrangements. Carlos has needed clarity from circumstances that cannot provide it. Closure will have to do. Kiera stumbles into an invite and so proceeds the living funeral to end all living funerals. The last words are brief. Carlos’s stick: “So long, partner.” Kiera turns to him with a wrenching mixture of understanding, sorrow, and inadequacy, and it does not falter when he comforts, “I’m glad you’re here.” Something might be better than nothing, but let’s speak straightly: Perhaps not unlike her family hopes, there is no return in sight.
The episode is a bit of a showcase for Rachel Nichols. She hasn’t had the chance to flex her hold on Kiera for a while. Here, she cracks near the end and plays the emotion as a minor surprise to Kiera. It overcomes her in a way for which Season Three hasn’t allotted time, and Nichols’s footing never slips. But her strongest moment is that tearless one. The sheer letdown in her eyes when Carlos confirms his secondary affection for her releases far more tension than prior episodes had built. We’ve seen the gears and recognized the direction, but Nichols’s compensates in a single shot for much of the season’s developmental shortcomings. It’s a good thing too, because Denis McGrath’s script asks the actors to interact with the things they say more than it requires that they embody them.