The Book of Rannells: Season 2, Episode 8 – “Princess All-Nighter” (2023)

Another Bea-centric episode, and another featuring both her dads. It’s amusing enough, and it comes at its main problem from a different angle than the show’s usual formulaic approach.

The princesses are having a sleepover at their treehouse—it’s Bea’s first sleepover ever, and she’s anxious to keep anyone from finding out how nervous she is. Despite her dads’ reassurance that it’s okay to be scared and her friends’ “we can tackle any problem together” attitude, she’s determined to deal with this one alone.

Normally, shortly after an episode kicks off, the princesses identify a problem in need of fixing and team up to solve it, often through trial and error. Here, the other three princesses don’t realize there’s anything that needs fixing, because Bea won’t tell them what’s bothering her. This puts a different spin on things, with the other girls not picking up on Bea’s frantic insistence that they stay up all night because she’s nervous about going to bed.

At a guess, I’d say this is Andrew Rannells’s biggest episode so far. King Barton is cute reassuring Bea, even as he gets way extra about it. Like, other dads would tell their daughters to call if they need to get picked up early—Barton makes Bea a signal button that sends an alarm to the blueberry pin on his sweater. Bea tries to bluster away any concerns, saying, “Thanks, but I won’t need it!” Rannells’ delivery is sweetly sincere on her dad’s reply, saying, “Oh, I know! But I always keep the pin on, so no matter what time you call, I’ll hear it.” (Unlike in the pageant episode, where Bea’s dads intentionally contributed to her nerves, they seem more clued into her fear here.)

One thing that’s nice about these season 2 episodes is that so far, Bea’s dads have mostly been shown together. In season 1, it took me a few episodes to even realize that Sir Benedict was also her dad. But in the season 2 episodes I’ve seen, they’re always together, being cute and domestic. And that’s fun, because Rannells and Tan France make a nice duo.

Neurodivergent Alley: Wylan Van Eck (Shadow and Bone)

*Wylan-related spoilers.*

While there’s some additional headcanoning going on here, especially in relation to the show, Wylan’s neurodivergence is canon, which is pretty cool. As with Jesper, his neurotype isn’t named on the page or onscreen, because the characters of this world don’t have words for that, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

Something notable about this write-up is that it’s my first Neurodivergent Alley post that includes a disorder other than autism and/or ADHD. I’ve always intended to eventually branch out into other neurotypes, but 1) autism and ADHD are the ones that most interest me, being nearest and dearest to my brain, and 2) I have so many autistic/ADHD-coded characters that I’m so excited to write about that I just haven’t made time to get to anybody else yet.

All of which is a long preamble to say that Wylan is canonically dyslexic. He’s a brilliant young man, an expert in chemicals and explosives, and he carries a lot of encyclopedic knowledge in his head. However, his secret shame is that he can’t read, despite his father paying handsomely for numerous tutors in his youth. From his explanations in the book, it’s clear to the readers that he’s dyslexic, but Wylan isn’t really able to recognize his disorder as the extenuating factor in his struggles. Instead, he considers it a personal failing, which is undoubtedly hammered home by his awful father. After Wylan runs away from home, his dad sends letters to him purely to twist the knife about his illiteracy—the man is outright trolling his own son, so gross.

At some point, when I reread the books, I’ll have to see if Wylan feels autistic-coded there as well. Nothing jumped out at me my first time reading them, not like with David (yet another neurodivergent Shadow and Bone character for me to write about—Leigh Bardugo is out here doing the lord’s work!) But on the show, he definitely feels autistic. I mean, he’s a socially-awkward STEM whiz who struggles to fit in with the Crows, so it kind of goes with the general territory, but to me, it’s more than just that.

My headcanon is informed a lot by Wylan’s body language, the way he skirts eye contact and the way he reacts to loud noises (even as a demolitions expert.) He carries himself in a way that’s anxious not to be perceived—he’s definitely at his most comfortable when he’s alone, tinkering or mixing powders and chemicals. When he’s in company, he’s always at least a little bit on edge.

But for all that, he does want to fit in with the Crows, which I like. Autistic-coded characters who are highly intelligent and studious are often portrayed as being indifferent to other people, or outright looking down on them. And that’s an okay depiction to have, but too often, it’s the only depiction out there. I like that Wylan wants to have friends but doesn’t quite know how to go about it, hovering at the edge of the group like a timid bird. And when he does wade in, just as often as not, he gets it wrong. When the Crows use a deserted cemetery as a meeting spot, Wylan eagerly infodumps about a past outbreak of firepox in Ketterdam, but it’s not an interesting historical tidbit for the others—for Kaz, it’s tied up in the roots of his trauma, and he snaps at Wylan, quickly shutting him up.

In online discussions about neurodivergent headcanons, I see a lot of people touting a “classic autistic/ADHD ship dynamic,” but in most of the relationships they talk about, the character that gets labeled as ADHD seems super AuDHD to me. (A few examples include Ed from Our Flag Means Death, Leslie from Parks and Rec, and Calvin from Lessons in Chemistry—more on that last one another day!) But with Wylan and Jesper, it is more of an autistic/ADHD dynamic, and I like what that looks like for their relationship. Jesper can be a whirlwind that not always easy for Wylan to keep up with, and they hit more than one stumbling block on their way to getting together, but the affection between them includes making space for one another even when they don’t always understand each other, which is lovely.

One of my favorite Jesper/Wylan moments comes in the second half of season 2. The Crows have just finished a leg of an incredibly dangerous mission in Shu Han, and they barely escaped with their lives. The guys had hit a rough patch just before everything popped off, and as they head off for their next journey, all Wylan wants to talk about is a rare butterfly he saw earlier in the night. Jesper knows nothing about this particular species and has no interest in it, but in that moment, he’s utterly happy to listen to Wylan infodump all about it—very sweet!

Other Doctor Lives: DuckTales: Season 3, Episode 8 – “The Phantom and the Sorceress!” (2020)

Not much David Tennant in this episode, but we do get plenty of Catherine Tate, so that’s fun! It’s a story featuring Webby and her friends, especially Lena, and there’s also a delightfully entertaining appearance from a recurring side character.

Lena has been having trouble controlling the amulet she took from her aunt Magica, but even though she hates how magic constantly seems to be screwing up her life, she’s going to need to learn fast: a mysterious figure known as the Phantom Blot is going after all magical beings, and the amulet may be the key to stopping him. At Webby and Violet’s urging, Lena is forced to seek Magica’s help.

For starters, the Phantom Blot is voiced by Giancarlo Esposito, and he drains people/artifacts of their magic using a Thanos-looking gauntlet. (There’s even a desperate “get the gauntlet off!” scene, a la Infinity War.) We get his backstory through a neat shadow-magic reenactment from Magica. Also, he has some kind of assistant voiced by Amy Sedaris, but she only has a couple lines—a sign that her character will be back in future episodes?

We’re introduced to the conceit of a vengeful being determined to wipe out all magic through one of his victims: Donald’s impossibly-lucky cousin Gladstone! Stripped of his luck, his reactions to normal life are hilarious. He tells the girls the harrowing tale of going into a restaurant, explaining, “I asked for food, and you know what they asked for in return? Payment!” His appearance is great throughout the episode, and it’s always nice to have Paul F. Tompkins pop up in stuff (Mr. Peanutbutter!)

And of course, as I said, we have Catherine Tate vamping it up as Magica. She’s just as superior and maniacal as ever, but because Lena has her amulet, she has to try and sell it without her mojo, turning to cheesy sleight-of-hand tricks. But she’s not exactly fooling anyone—her evil lair is positively filled with Empty Pizza Boxes of Depression.

I enjoy Webby-Lena-Violet stories, even if Scrooge rarely plays much of a role in them. The three girls are always good together, and while this storyline gets a bit “friendship is the real magic!”, it’s sweet and fun. We get another classic Webby sleepover, where we learn Webby sleeps with a battle axe at the ready and Violet sleeps wearing a string of garlic—“statistically speaking, we’re due” for vampires. There’s an entertaining training montage and a terrific gag involving Webby banking on a heretofore-unproven ability to talk to snakes.

Scrooge and the triplets bookend the episode, going off on an adventure of their own so we get the three girls leading this storyline. David Tennant’s largest scene is the opening one, where Scrooge repeatedly gripes about how troublesome and dangerous magic is, which only worsens Lena’s frustrations with the amulet. When he’s summoned off to his adventure, he says, “The mystical kingdom of Goathoul must be under attack again. Great, more magic.” Then, switching to a cheerily flippant voice, he tells Lena, “Again, no offense!”