Homeland nabbed a slew of Golden Globes recently. It's no wonder: Between rampant infidelity, terrorism, dirty politics, and murder, the Brodys are the Hindenburg of suburban families. Their story is tragic, sure, but it's impossible to not watch.
At least that's the case for the most part. As they say, every chain has a weak link, and for the Brodys, the go-to moment destroyer is Chris Brody, the innocent son who's painfully oblivious to the litany of life-threatening situations and hair-raising events this caught-in-the-middle clan endures on a regular basis. He's clueless about the disarray around him to the point that we sometimes wonder if he maybe just understands it all too well and is reverting to some earlier state of childhood, the age of 4, perhaps, as some kind of defense mechanism.
In an episode from Season 2, for example, the Brody family is put up in a fancy high-rise penthouse under CIA protective custody. While the rest of the family perfectly grasps the gravity of the situation -- that being the very real possibility that they will all be killed -- Chris darts around the new digs, marveling at the size of the televisions like he's been in a coma since 1999 and has never seen a flat screen before.
"A Sega Dreamcast? And a PlayStation?"