It’s one week later on The 100, and our favorite group of planet-bound renegades is slowly coalescing….into a microcosm of a dysfunctional society hellbent on destroying itself from the inside out. There’s only one death this time in this week’s bloody, action-packed hour.
In this new world order we quickly learn two important things: Fear is a good motivator, but ‘revenge isn’t justice.’ In the wake of Wells’ shocking death, the prisoners have come together to build a protective wall around the camp to keep out the murderous Grounders. That’s the motivation part of that mysterious maxim—unite for the common good.
The revenge part, however, is a bit more of a slippery slope for our troubled youths. After all, some of them are, in fact, bona fide killers. So when circumstantial evidence points to Murphy as the killer (and no, that’s not a finger-based pun, but it should be), forget what you know about revenge-based dishes, because this one is being served up piping hot. The prisoners want a ruthless kind of justice that would give even a violence enthusiast like Batman the heebie-jeebies.
Accusations fly, punches are thrown, and next thing you know, chants of “float him” become a rallying cry. This is mob mentality at its best, and Murphy, far from being innocent, is quickly strung up for a murder we know was committed last week by little Charlotte (or Bad Charlotte, if you will).
Clarke begs for mercy on Murphy’s behalf, but Bellamy, who showed weakness when he couldn’t kill Atom, isn’t about to look weak in front of an angry mob. He understands they want a form of justice, not actual justice. So instead of saving his old pal Murphy, it’s Bellamy who kills him. Or at least he thinks he’s killed him, until Charlotte cops to the murder, prompting a quick-thinking Clarke to cut Murphy down.
So, problem solved, right? No hard feelings and sorry for almost killing you? It’s Murphy’s turn to demand justice, but Bellamy isn’t interested. He even turns his back on Murphy, who clubs him in the back of the head. Which begs a serious question—why would you EVER turn your back on someone you nearly lynched simply to satisfy a crowd’s bloodlust? This is not a rhetorical question—I really want to know why someone would do this. Is it hubris??
Ultimately, Clarke and Finn take Charlotte and go on the lam—she may be a murderer, but the camp can’t be all willy-nilly about who lives and who dies. The upside to leaving the camp is that Finn finally brings Clarke to an old bomb shelter he’s discovered. The food may be expired, but at least it’s safe. (Welcome to Finn’s Secret Bomb Shelter—come for the pencils, stay for the romantic candle-lit cuddling!)
Charlotte, ever an irrepressible imp, gets it into her head that she can’t endanger anyone else, and tries to give herself up to Murphy—only to be intercepted by Bellamy. A nighttime chase through the woods ensues, ending at the edge of a cliff. And not just any cliff—Chekhov’s cliff! (If you don’t know what I mean by that, google “Chekhov’s gun.”). Goodbye Charlotte, hello 93!
But Charlotte’s sacrifice doesn’t sit well with Bellamy—he wants to avenge her by killing Murphy. Clarke isn’t having any of it, though, and it’s decided that rather than kill Murphy, he’ll be banished. Which, really, is just another form of death, isn’t it? At least Finn leaves the poor guy a knife to defend himself. (Chekhov’s knife! I’m serious—just google Chekhov’s gun—trust me.)
Meanwhile, aboard the Ark, a different drama is unfolding, which begins when Clarke decides to punish her mother for having her dad floated. She does this by removing her bracelet, leading her mother to believe that Clarke is now dead. Abby can’t bring herself to believe Clarke has died, which prompts her to reduce the pod’s launch window. The only problem? Raven is missing a key part for the pod—a pressure regulator. (Now that’s some serious pressure, right??) Anyway, the part is procured from a shady black marketer named Nigel, but the part comes at a steep price. Nigel gives up Abby to Kane, who in turn has his fellow council member arrested. But before he can slap the cuffs on Raven, too, she manages to successfully launch the pod.
Some closing thoughts:
“The less you know, the better”—and that’s one to grow on.
We’re introduced to a belief system on the Ark—that somehow involves watering a tree. I suppose I can respect that.
Raven and Finn? I guess that makes sense—think of the money they could save by sharing hair care products.
So much snogging, you guys! And unless there’s some birth control in Finn’s underground bunker, we might be back up to 94 in about 9 months.