'I am immortal - and I am not alone.'

a brief history of 'Highlander: The Series' - and a look back at Season One

There Can Be Only Six
I remember Highlander: The Series being on TV at home more than most things that aired in the 1990s.

The made-for-syndication spin-off started in 1992 and ran through 1998. After that, it was followed up by the divisive Highlander: Endgame, took a break for a few years, then finally wrapped up on Sci-Fi Channel with the made-for-TV, much maligned Highlander: The Source.

By that point (2007), the franchise’s heyday had long since ended. Fans pointed to the middling last two seasons of the show as reason. Others blamed to the lackluster reception of Endgame. And still others — including star Adrian Paul and series producer David Abramowitz — pinned The Source as the true final nail in the coffin.

I’m not here to diagnose why Highlander lost its popularity and relevance at the start of the 21st century. But if I were to, I’d wager most things that were financially viable in the ‘90s stopped being so soon after decade’s end. The ‘90s were an era of unfettered capitalism and merchandising — a decade where an Israeli businessman could pilfer a Japanese kids’ show and reap the profits to grease the neo-con war machine. (See: Power Rangers.) Where mutant turtles could fly off store shelves, and any movie that made a decent return could get an ill-advised TV spin-off. Anything and everything could be a multimedia franchise.

Of course Highlander got a crack at the bat. But how successful it was, at that time, shouldn’t be discounted. It deserves more than to be remembered as, ‘one of those movie tie-in shows from the ‘90s.’ Ferris Bueller, Timecop, Conan: The Adventurer… the list of one-season not-wonders goes on. But Highlander The Series ran for six reasons, one spin-off (The Raven), and got capped off by a theatrical film. If a series did that well today, it would be a roaring success by any measure.

But it goes further. Highlander was spun off into novels, a 40-episode children’s cartoon, and a trading card game. Rysher — the show’s main American producer — went all-out with the merchandising, too. Sterling silver jewelry, quality leather and wool coats, sword replicas, kitchenware… anything and everything that could be merchandised, was. This was all sold in mail order catalogs that persisted into the early 2000s. (The latest I can find is 2003.) If anything, Highlander The Series deserves to be remembered with the same reverence as Xena and Hercules — both of which ran for the same season count and were sometimes co-marketed in aforementioned catalogs.

Today, that may seem unbelievable to most. While both of those series have continued to enjoy relevance and cult success into the 2000s, Highlander largely remains a footnote. Many don’t even know The Series exists, let alone just how prevalent it was in its heyday. If anything, the unearned cultural reputation of the franchise is that — in the eyes of most — it should’ve never been a franchise. That the underrated Quickening (more on that another time) is one of the worst-ever films, and that each attempt to course-correct after that was a mounting series of mistakes.

Like its protagonist, the series has faded into the shadows — an unsung swordsman, living in the shadows and shirking any pretenses of nobility or renown. What happened?

A Kind of Merchandising Magic

The ending of the original Highlander presented a unique problem for any continuation. Original director Russell Mulcahy tried with The Quickening, which can be enjoyed in original cut via the Renegade Version, and went on to greatly influence Square Enix’s Final Fantasy VII. Mulcahy envisioned a world where protagonist Connor ages into a frail old man and does battle with a Highlander’s ultimate enemy: climate change. This kicks off a delirious and campy saga that — somehow — resurrects Connor’s dead mentor, Ramirez, and throws our hero into a sci-fi future tinged by Blade Runner and Total Recall. Highlander II isn’t a bad film — not by a long shot — but it is a pretty definitive end point.

Unfortunately, the version of the film most audiences got was truncated. Producers conspired against Mulcahy every step of the way, eventually ousting him from the project and changing key plot details. And I do mean “key.” Where the first film managed an ambiguous, unexplained, centuries-spanning epic, the theatrical cut of the second undoes it all with unnecessary exposition. Immortals are no longer enigmatic and undefinable beings drawn to eternal combat by forces beyond their control. Instead, they’re aliens from planet Zeist.

(Look — I really don’t want to get into it right now.)

These producer-level changes sealed Quickening’s fate as a critical and commericial misfire. It also alienated the first film’s thriving cult audience. The sequel’s reception was a blow to some of its biggest proponents — including lead actor Christopher Lambert, who almost walked from the production but stayed due to contractual obligations. Lambert was a big believer in the original film’s franchise potential, and refused to let the disastrous impact of the sequel deter that faith.

Said producer Barry Rosen in 1997: "Chris was terrific. He believed in the franchise, he knew what we were doing, he supported the series and he had a terrific relationship with Bill Panzer and Peter Davis from the movies. He was really very cooperative."

Lambert knew that producers Bill Panzer and Peter Davis were interested in a TV series, and arranged a meeting between them and Gaumont president Christian Charret. If anything was going to save Highlander, this was it.

“We realized that Highlander would have the advantage over other TV series in that there were two movies that preceded it,” said Bill Panzer in 1997. “The movies were hugely successful worldwide, and while not a huge theatrical success in America, they've done quite well on video there.”

It’s important to note two things. First, Gaumont was and is France’s biggest media conglomerate. Second, this meeting came right as the company had kicked off its own in-house television production. Like The Gathering itself, it was a confluence of the right people with the right power at the right time. Gaumont pursued the series, and decided to produce it in America directly for syndication. This was the first time a French production company bankrolled an American production made with local talent.

But this was only one aspect of the international production. About 25% of Highlander’s production came from Rysher, the American producer. The remainder came from a combination of Gaumont (via now-defunct bank Credit du Nord) and TF1, Reteitalia (Italy,) RTL Plus (Germany,) and Amuse Video (Japan.) This confluence of money from five different countries meant producing a series that — somehow — appealed to the sensibilities of each one.

It seems impossible, on some level, to blend the television tastes of three European countries, Japan, and America in a Canada-shot series. Yet that’s precisely what the first season of Highlander The Series — sought to do: the impossible.

“Billy Wilder said that to protect your sanity, you have to believe that there is an audience for what you want to do,” Panzer said. “These days, too much product is made ass backwards. The philosophy is, 'What do the viewers want to see?' But we don't like to work like that. We're not going to make the show that we think they are going to like. We are going to make the show that we like to make and hope that they are going to join with us and they are going to like it too.”

“I Am Duncan MacLeod…”

Highlander: The Series introduces Duncan McCloud, a one-time clansman of Connor. It retcons the ending of Highlander and the entirety of Quickening by creating a continuity where Connor never won The Prize and — thus — The Game is still very much afoot. This is a handy way to stretch the series out, but one can’t help but to rue the canonical confusion that stems from this choice. It gets even more complicated when you consider Highlander III would be made to tie into the TV series, but still centered Lambert. Ultimately, it’s best to not think about it too hard and enjoy each entry as its own loosely connected thing.

(No, really — don’t think about it too hard.)

Like his relative, Duncan is an immortal with uncanny swordsmanship and a penchant for trenchcoats. He lives in the fictitious Seacover, Washington, with his lover of twelve years, Tessa, and has spend much of their time together avoiding other immortals. Unlike Connor, Duncan is playful and passionate — far removed from his stand-offish and avoidant cousin. Like him, however, Duncan is grounded and guided by his affection for mortals.

This comes to a head when The Gathering — the sacred ceremonial battle between immortals that leaves one standing — puts Duncan in the crosshairs of dozens of centuries-old rivals and new foes alike.

Played by English actor and martial artist Adrian Paul, Duncan (“Mac” to his friends) is a more compelling lead than Connor from the outset. The show’s first season leaves no stone unturned when it comes to his characterization, casting him as a soldier in some centuries, aristocracy in others, and general wanderer in the rest. The pilot episode, ‘The Gathering,’ even shows him living among and marrying into a Sioux tribe before they’re slaughtered the U.S. military. (Dances With Wolves and Last of the Mohicans were mega-hits at this point, so one has to assume they factored heavy here.) From the outset, he’s established as a character who has run counter to the regimes of governments and monarchies alike. This is explored in later seasons, too.

By the end of the first season, we have a fairly comprehensive portrait of Duncan, his exploits, and — most importantly — his moral compass. That moral compass guides him towards love and companionship through the centuries, though he never marries and his relationships tend to end in heartbreak, tragedy, or both. He has a romantic foil in Amanda, a fellow immortal who’s been shacking up with Duncan only to run a grift on him for centuries. She’s introduced in ‘The Lady and The Tiger’ as a slinky cat burglar moonlighting as a circus performer, but is really on the hunt for rare artifacts to steal. Amanda (played by a charming and playful Elizabeth Gracen) only shows up more as the series continues, and stands out as one of the most memorable recurring characters.

But Amanda isn’t Duncan’s main love interest — at least in this first season. That would be Tessa (Alexandra Vandernoot), who lives with the Highlander in his swanky antique shop and follows him to Paris and back. By the time we’re introduced to them, the pair have been a couple for twelve years. Tessa is a scrappy and resourceful welder, well-traveled and whipsmart. We get the most time with her during this first leg of the series, which is one of the main reasons to watch it through despite some fans’ suggestion at skipping this season outright. The tension between her love for Duncan and her dissatisfaction with The Game, The Gathering, and the other oblique rules of immortals creates a fascinating fraught dynamic.

Duncan is also attached at the hip to Richie (the late Stan Kirsch), introduced in the pilot episode. Richie breaks into Duncan’s shop to steal some artifacts and pawn them off for quick cash. However, he gets more than he bargained for when he stumbles into the middle of a fight between Duncan, Connor (reprised by Christopher Lambert), and crooked immortal Slan Quince (Richard Moll). From here on out, Richie sticks to Duncan like glue — a mortal protege who’s defined by being ‘street smart’ in that way 90s shows always characterized ‘street smart.’ He’s fast-talking and flirtatious, with a bit of an ego and a fiery temper — a contrast to Duncan’s playful but stoic demeanor.

Together, Duncan, Tessa, and Richie form a compelling little familial unit. At times — thanks to the latent homosocial relationship between Mac and Rich — it even feels like a semi-functional polycule. (The copious amount of fan fiction helps.) The trio express a mutual affection and admiration for one another, helping each other navigate crises both temporal and immortal. It’s easy to wish for a version of the show where this dynamic lasts the entire stretch of six seasons.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. We have our principle plot and players. How does Highlander: The Series actually shake out as a ~40 minute serialized TV series?

‘Ankoku no Senshi Highlander’

Being an international production, Highlander had to appeal to the aesthetic and philosophical tastes of all countries involved. This meant historical drama (France and Japan,) international conspiracy espionage (Germany, a la Le Gorille), and steamy procedural (America and Japan.) The program is a unique blending of highbrow philosophy, campy bodice ripper, and rollicking martial arts procedural.

But there's — perhaps — a bigger influence on Highlander than any of those: tokusatsu. Practically every first-season episode of the series conforms to the basic episode structure of solo hero series like Kamen Rider, which co-producer Amuse incidentally has been involved with. While they’re primarily a talent management agency, they also (clearly) have dabbled in production work before. It’s not a stretch to imagine the Japanese side of production seeing the marketing strength of something centered on a rogueish hero in a distinctive costume who fights a new foe each week.

The basic narrative structure for a Highlander episode — especially in the inaugural stretch — tends to boil down to these raw components:

1. A threat is introduced.

2. Duncan encounters something that reminds him of the past.

3. Main threat worsens as Duncan racks his memories for answer.

4. Conflict when threat is introduced to Duncan or his loved ones.

5. Duncan wins a duel, gets The Quickening.

Throughout each episode, these basic components are fleshed out with flashbacks and romance scenes. Episodes also adhere to a certain fight quota, with each conflict escalating until the FX-laden final conflict. These fights include sword duels, martial arts bouts, or a showcase of other weapons such as axes or staffs. Fights through the episodes either consist of Duncan getting ganged up on by gangs of nameless goons, coming to blows with the threat of the week, or some combination of the two.

The Quickening is the big toku effect — think of it as Highlander’s own Super Sentai robot formation sequence. In both, a critical point during the episode-concluding battle marks the spot for a large-scale special effect. Here, The Quickening takes the form of practical pyrotechnics and post-production lightning effects. Duncan is buffeted by a raging wind, stands with his arms open, and screams as the power rages through him. Powerlines surge, windows shatter, and cars explode accordant to the strength of the Quickening. These sequences are a fun repetitious climactic release after a battle, which is always topped off it the signature decapitation. (It’s the only way to kill an immortal, after all.)

But those international production partners, ironically, also proved to be a detriment to the early production.

"Everyone had a different idea of what the show was," said writer and producer Kevin Droney. "At one point the Germans were going to drop out, then they didn't drop out. They had one show in mind, the French had a different show in mind. The French thought it was a detective show, the Germans wanted a big action show for sure but they weren't too sure about camaraderie among the Immortals."

Regardless, the show managed to hit enough high notes for producers to stay on board.

Highlander: The Series juggles elements of procedural, period drama, and tokusatsu better than most other shows that would try through the ‘90s. But what was the point?

Duncan Says

The Series took advantage of its syndication slot and international production to push for subject matter primetime network shows were frankly averse to. As an immortal, Duncan has lived through centuries of oppression and seen the basic hypocrisy, stupidity, and evil humans are capable of. The show doesn’t shy away from exploring the depths of that, tackling colonizer genocide, stigmas against the mentally ill, and lack of care for war veterans. While it would hit harder at bigger targets more often in later seasons, this introductory salvo of episodes is a nice appetizer for the series’ typically well-meaning social politics.

"You can do things on Highlander that you can't do anywhere else in terms of television, simply because of the flashbacks and what the show is," mused Abramowitz in 1997. "You can do shows with real substance and great moral and ethical issues. Basic questions like what is the difference between honor and vanity?"

‘Nowhere To Run’ is a particular standout, and an example of Highlander’s early promise when it comes to discussing sensitive subject matter. Marion Cotillard plays Nora, the daughter of immortal Everett (Peter Guinness.) After being raped by the son of Tessa’s childhood crush (Jason Riddington and Anthony Head, respectively,) Nora’s dignity becomes the rallying cry for Everett as he wages an all-out assault on her rapist’s mansion. The episode — written by Abramowitz — manages to tease out the ugly discourse around restorative justice and rape without stumbling into too many ideological pitfalls. Abramowitz draws from elements of Straw Dogs as the protagonists trap their house, but ultimately, his moral compass seems to lie more with I Spit On Your Grave. Nora tires of the masculine conflict over her own trauma, and by episode’s end, is driven to shoot her rapist herself. It’s a tragic but satisfying yarn that never feels didactic, centers the victim’s trauma, and (ultimately) even delivers some relevant observations about rape culture as a whole.

Episodes like this represent the strengths of Highlander as a serialized concept.

"Television," Panzer said, "gives you more of an opportunity to explore ideas. I find it intriguing and challenging, because you can explore a character and an environment, a philosophy, a state of mind over a period of time that you could never do in a movie because of the time restrictions. That is what we try to do with Highlander. Also, you're doing it all at once -- developing, shooting, editing, mixing --and it's all nonstop. I find that very energizing."

‘Avenging Angel’ also tackles rape culture, albeit in a much different way. Spandau Ballet member Martin Kemp plays a fledgling immortal who’s taken it upon himself to stalk, torment, and kill sex workers based on the delusion that he’s a Templar ‘purifying’ the world. Tessa’s friend — who’s turned to the trade in her absence — ends up caught in his crosshairs and needing the protection of Duncan. (Yes, there are a lot of imperiled women in Highlander on the whole. We’ll get to that another time.) This tees off interesting discussions about sex work and the stigma surrounding it, albeit guided by the limits of lefty early ‘90s TV writers. It also diagnoses Kemp’s character as being horrendously abused by his religious father, and insinuates this is where much of his internalized misogyny takes root. The episode is a sobering examination of how sex workers are so often disregarded by even their own friends, and how that disregard so often serves the machinations of violent religious zealots.

Moments like this (as well as standouts like ‘Lady and the Tiger,’ ‘The Beast Below’, and ‘See No Evil’) set Highlander apart from where most movie-based TV series would head. While many of those would simply try to milk a movie’s ‘hook’ for enough episodes to justify more, Highlander’s writers wisely realized the simple ‘hook’ was baked into their protagonist. With over 400 years of life experience, Duncan can act as a moral arbiter for ideological quagmires in a way mortal protagonists can’t. It puts the series at the intersection of cult hit Forever Knight and other noted movie tie-in successes like M.A.S.H and In The Heat of the Night — one part historical fantasy, one part serialized forum for contemporary ills.

Beginnings

It’s easy to see why the first season of Highlander: The Series is often derided as some of the least rewarding material in the series. The show is very much finding its footing, which means some creative but odd guest spots (Roger Daltry? Joan Jett? Roland Gift?) and treading similar creative water between certain episodes. It also means a lot of set-up as the show figures out what, exactly, its stylistic calling cards, character dynamics, and long-term storytelling goals are.

In fact, it’s arguable that this first season has little to no ‘plot’ relevance to the later ones. Yes, key characters are introduced, two settings are established (Seacouver and Paris), and the raw mechanics of The Game are laid out. But these things are recapped ad nauseum from Season Two onward. An example is ‘Return of Amanda’, a second season episode that so extensively recaps Duncan and Amanda’s last encounter newcomers are thoroughly prepared to accept her regardless of prior context. If one were to skip any season, it would be one of the two prime candidates. (Stay tuned for the other.)

Yet to do so is to miss out on the Duncan and Tessa relationship, which — I think — is one of the strongest parts of the whole experience. Tessa learning more about Mac’s immortality and growing disillusioned with The Game is legitimately some of the best storytelling in the Highlander franchise. She’s the only human female character who challenges it, to some extent, and pushes for Duncan to pull himself out before it’s too late. Duncan knows, of course, that this can’t be done — that Immortals are fated to kill each other until one is left standing. This often puts them in diametric opposition, and makes their loving relationship harder to navigate. That tension defines their dynamic, and their star-crossed relationship is tested in practically each episode.

Yes, Highlander couldn’t have gone where it does with Tessa in the later seasons. Yet it’s even harder to see her leave later when we know how much her and Duncan have sacrificed for each other.

Another S1 highlight is Randi, a scrappy reporter hot on Duncan’s trail. She’s the only one who seems to notice how the Highlander turns up at conspicuous times in conspicuous places. This is another human female character that should’ve stuck around a little longer — just to test, challenge, and (perhaps) eventually understand Duncan. Randi is neither an antagonist nor a protagonist nor a friend to anyone but herself. ‘Bad Day in Building A’ isn’t a particularly great episode — one of many bog-standard ‘Duncan in an average procedural plot’ episodes this season — but Randi’s dogged reporting of the escalating hostage scenario holds it together. (Seeing Mac be sweet to a little girl is also nice!) She even gets her own damselling episode in ‘Deadly Medicine,’ as she’s trapped by a vicious serial killer (Joe Pantoliano) who daylights as a doctor. For all the danger and plot-relevant action she’s involved in, it’s a letdown that Randi doesn’t show up anywhere beyond this debut season.

But this is the nature of first seasons — especially first seasons in would-be multimedia juggernauts. Things are attempted, characters are introduced, and the viewers are left to decide. Then producers pay attention to fans, critics, ratings. Figure out what’s working, cut what’s not. (See: Angie, a 1979 show that underwent radical changes in its second season for those seasons, to less effective degree.) Tessa, Randi, even Inspector LeBrun were loose ends dangling off of what kept bringing people back each episode. Those were the hallmarks we’ve come to know and embrace the series for — immortal ethics lessons, practical fights, and pulpy time-hopping plot devices.

"There were so many chefs in the beginning that it became very difficult to keep delivering," Abramowitz said. "The show had to find its own voice and it was tough to filter out the other voices. In the second year people said, 'Okay, you guys know how to do this somewhat,' and they backed off.”

One can’t deny, however, that the presence of recurrent characters to challenge Duncan’s perspective and actions helped to temper him. Later seasons would center him in an inherently more righteous light, with less to hide and more evil conspiracies to unravel. (Panzer, Abramowitz, and Davis’ impact.) On the one hand, these characters were largely here to provide a non-immortal threat for Duncan to contend with — a contrivance and a necessity. On the others, they help the show to feel a bit more grounded, where later seasons pivot to focus on a loopy conspiracy arc and long-standing rivalry.

This is why the first season of Highlander: The Series isn’t worth skipping, even if later ones go more challenging and intense places. It’s a sterling introduction to the principal cast, and offers a glimpse of what might lie in store for future seasons. Moreover, it’s a creative burst of energy that throws everything it possible can at the wall in hopes that something — anything — will stick.

Those hopes were well-founded. ‘The Gathering’ pulled 3.4 in American audiences aged 18 to 49 — and 7% of US viewers in general. These were respectable numbers for a first-run syndication series, especially among the daytime crowd. I couldn’t find any ratings info for the show abroad (I’d be curious how it did in France and Japan, specifically), but it was enough of a success to earn a full release on tape via Amuse in the latter. The slot it launched in — the same slot I would later watch it as it aired — was competing against soaps, children’s programming, and daytime talk shows. These were big draws, and a movie tie-in program forging a unique audience in this landscape was nothing to sneeze at.

It was clear that Rysher et al had a hit on their hands. But to make it last, the second season would have to swing harder and faster to keep up with rising competition. Highlander’s success meant an explosion of not only movie-based tie-in series, but an influx of made-for-syndication competition was mounting as producers discovered fertile and repetitious creative ground. Could Duncan MacLeod best his newfound rivals and grow his series into something beyond a one-season hit?

In the end — there could be only one. (Give or take a few.)

To Be Continued.

Episode Highlights — Season One

Each episode of Highlander: The Series — Season One was watched on the mail-order VHS sets sold through the catalog. These episodes are presented uncut and run four minutes longer than the American broadcasts. If you’re interested in the show, these tapes or the Anchor Bay DVDs are the route to go. All streaming versions — including those on Peacock, Freevee, and Tubi — are cropped to fit modern TVs and look generally terrible. It’s also unclear if the streaming versions are consistently the European cuts or not; some Redditors point to the commercial breaks featured in the US cable cuts, while others insist that they’re the full and uncut versions. Based on my own experience, the streaming version omits nudity and shortens certain scenes based on what I watched last year via Tubi. VHS will be the main format I rely on for this series for both the show and the films.

S1E1 — ‘The Gathering’

The debut episode is still one of the best. Intended as a TV movie before planning and production woes set in, it introduces Duncan and features the sole series appearance of Connor. The two have fun chemistry, and it’s a shame we’d have to wait until Endgame to see them together again.

S1E4 — ‘Innocent Man’

Explores police brutality against a houseless Vietnam vet, and teases out the stigma surrounding them in the process. Not a great episode for Duncan outside of him standing up to some good ol’ boy cops, but it does do a decent enough job of wading into slippery subject matter and saying something insightful.

S1E5 — ‘Free Fall’

The reason you watch this episode is watch Joan Jett seduce a cherry boy (Richie) and fight Duncan on the beach while Queen plays. It’s a frothy, frilly, fun episode with little substance and even less weight on future episodes — but hey, Joan Jett with a sword! Can’t go wrong.

S1E7 — ‘Mountain Men’

Tessa gets kidnapped by a band of Deliverance rejects, who begin to turn on and kill each other. Duncan gets lost in the woods in some chintzy slow-mo sequences, but the episode culminates in one of the absolute best fights so far — Duncan armed with an axe and forced to do combat shirtless in a shallow stream. (No complaints here!)

S1E13 — ‘Band of Brothers’

Important for the introduction of Darius, a recurrent character in this first season. He’s a monk who’s chosen neutrality and peace for his centuries alive. Darius provided an interesting ideological and moral complement to Duncan, and it’s clear bigger things were teed up for him. Unfortunately, actor Werner Stocker passed away from a brain aneurysm in 1992, and the character was — understandably — written off in the season finale.

S1E15 — ‘For Tomorrow We Die’

The introduction of Xavier St. Cloud, a recurrent villain played by Roland Gift of Fine Young Cannibals. It’s a strange casting decision that fortunately works out, as Gift is uniquely terrifying — one of the most memorable villains yet. Even with a mostly by-the-numbers narrative set-up, this episode is entertaining enough and pushes the upper limits of how immortals can be dealt with.

S1E18 — ‘The Lady and The Tiger’

Elizabeth Gracen is introduced as Amanda, which makes this not only a great episode, but a necessary one. Sure, her introduction is recapped later. But the full scope of how she and Duncan met, what they are to each other, and where they differ is worth the watch. Plus — Gracen is just a blast to watch!

S1E21 — ‘Nowhere To Run’

The aforementioned rape-revenge episode starring Marion Cotillard and Anthony Head. That’s all you really need to know. This episode is not only an essential Highlander, but vital television for its frank and difficult depiction of sexual assault. Peak TV.

S1E22 — ‘The Hunters’

For many, this is where Highlander really starts. It introduces The Watchers — an antagonistic cabal of mortals devoted to observing and chronicling immortals. Darius is slain by the group, and Duncan’s old friend Fitzcairn (Roger Daltry!) also finds himself in their crosshairs. This is a vital episode, one that teases where future seasons would go and changes the stakes for the principal cast.

Sources

— ‘Rysher to handle Highlander distribution.’ Variety. Print.

— The Making of ‘Highlander: The Series’ Season One. Retro Vision #1. Print.

— ‘Highlander: The Series — Volume I’. Rysher. VHS.

— Highlander The Series. Wikipedia.

— Various. Highlander Wiki.