Angel: The Complete Fifth Season: B+

Joss Whedon has been quoted in interviews with the sentiment that the fifth season of Angel, just behind season three, is his favorite of the five years the show was on the air. It's easy to see why too: of all five years, Angel: The Complete Fifth Season has the most of each of the program's unique and far-flung elements; you've the mini-arcs of story first used in year two, the flawless jocularity of seasons three and four, and the nifty introduction of a whole new plot setup (a la the first season, because it - if anything - was new). Along with all of these is also the patented Angel atmosphere: claustrophobically gothic, a little screwball, ultimately poignant (but only in the service of tragedy), and with very nice production values. As such it's easy to see why series co-creator Whedon, that rapier wit-storyteller, adores this final installment in Angel's (David Boreanaz) quest for atonement. But is such worship deserved? Are these last 22 episodes some of the best Mutant Enemy ever produced? Not quite, but if Angel doesn't go out with a bang, at least it didn't sink to a whimper.

The hallmark of this season is that Angel Investigations, the constant home base for our rag-tag bunch of witty demon hunters, has been shut down. Permanently. Instead, the whole gang has been transplanted over to Wolfram & Hart (think The Exorcist with lawyers)...and given complete control of it. The idea of Angel as CEO was revealed in "Home," the fourth season finale, as Lilah (Stephanie Romanov) told the group that the Senior Partners - the group of super-planar demons that created W&H and who are, presumably, plotting the Apocalypse - were done with L.A. and, what's more, they wanted to reward Angel for having ended world peace by killing Jasmine (Gina Torres), a "Power That Was" (aka Goddess) who descended from the heavens to create a utopian slave state. To many's surprise, he agreed; the reprecussions of his decision (affecting some we have yet to know about) are the focus of season five.

Don't think that this means season five would follow much the same wholly-serialized pattern of storytelling that the masterfully entertaining fourth season did. No, in fact their newfound control of the hugely powerful law firm serves more as backdrop, dramatic and comedic foil, than Big Bad. Many episodes ("Life of the Party," "Just Rewards") follow the same design as season one: Monster of the Week re-done in the 21st century, and more nicely stylized. What makes Angel transcend such dissapointing backtracking is in the way the new sets of W&H make most episodes thrum with low-key dread, indecison (this tone is set by the season premiere, "Conviction," written and directed with crackerjack precision by Joss Whedon). The old-AI team aren't quite sure why they've been bestowed with such sudden power and money; and the addition of a few new supporting players, and the return of one or two old ones, keep them continually off-balance.

This anguish fuels straight into a motif I'm not quite sure I've found well-suited to be worn long-term by Angel: the tragedy, the suddeness, of death. But don't misunderstand; in "You're Welcome," (written and directed by newbie showrunner/long-time staff writer David Fury) "A Whole in the World," (again, written and directed by Joss Whedon) and "Shells," (written and directed by Steven S. DeKnight, who burst onto the scene as a major creative force behind last year's outrageously clever plot) the immediacy and skill with which death is manuevered into Angel's inner circle can bring a viewer to tears. Oddly enough, to counter-act that, are two of the series' most pricelessly funny episodes: "Smile Time" - in which, famously, our hero is turned into a felt puppet. Literally. - and "Harm's Way," a delightful showcase for new castmate Mercedes McNabb's deft timing as Harmony, Angel's secretary-vampire who subverts her soulessness by the sheer superficiality of her personality.

All these different elements, revealed in the beginning and now espoused at above, would never work if not for the cast. Boreanaz, along with J. August Richards (as newly-brilliant legal eagle Gunn), Alexis Denisof (Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, a bitterly indelible presence), and Amy Acker (grown into her own, killed, and then reborn in a year-long showstopper of a performance) make each new twist and turn - each one somehow cheaper, more incapsulated, than the last - felt and enthralling. Sure, one realizes that some of the Big Moments of the year (Cordelia's last episode; Fred's "infection") never reach fruition and reaction from the team - I would have loved a funeral, or even some group-mourning - but the season isn't completely devoid of serial drama...just a little lighter.

And generally this leaner look would favor Angel - as it did with season three - but there are definitely more down moments than I'd like, especially after the high that was year four. Instead, and much to my surprise, is this compact turn-of-events; a 22-episode roller coaster that obviously needed an additional year to sprawl and grow in depth. Such squeezing in then results in these little cracks, flaws, but the unique creations far outweigh the handful of dissapointments. Namely, Illyria (Amy Acker), a paranoid ancient demon-god, is worth every moment of Lindsey's (Christian Kane) speechifying. It's an odd thing to come to the end - depicted in series finale "Not Fade Away," characteristically remarkble from co-writers and directors Joss Whedon and Jeffrey Bell - and look back on all the quips and moments of horror; and how well at times that cocktail worked. In the end, Whedon's creation will stand as a fascinating five-year look at how forgiveness figures into a fluid moral compass, and how that in turn works into a richer and wider tapestry of good and evil. If that sounds heavy, Mutant Enemy never made it feel so. And Angel: The Complete Fifth Season did it one better; they made it interesting, once or twice heartfelt, startlingly funny, respectably finished, and true to the core truth of the series: redemption ends the moment you do, so never stop fighting.