Welcome back to Rewatching Smallville, my weekly dive into the iconic series that explores Clark Kent’s journey before becoming Superman. Whether you’re a long-time fan or new to the show, you’re invited to join in each Tuesday as I revisit episodes and share my thoughts and observations. Be sure to share your own memories and theories in the comments below!

Picture this: It’s February 2004, 2 Fast 2 Furious is still fresh in theaters, and some brilliant mind in the writer’s room decided, “You know what Clark Kent needs? A street racing subplot with his best friend Pete.” What could possibly go wrong? Everything, apparently—and that’s exactly what makes “Velocity” such a fascinating time capsule of both Smallville‘s ambitions and the era’s obsession with nitrous oxide and neon underglow.

The Fast and the Furious Meets Krypton

Let’s address the elephant in the room: The Fast and the Furious hit screens in 2001 and completely revolutionized how pop culture viewed street racing. The peak of tuning culture coincided with the early 2000s when The Fast and the Furious came out, bringing LA’s underground racing scene into the mainstream. By 2004, every teen drama worth its salt was trying to capture that lightning in a bottle.

“Velocity” doesn’t just borrow from the Fast and Furious playbook—it photocopies it and adds alien meteorites for flavor. We’ve got the underground racing scene, the charismatic villain who “never loses a race,” modified cars with performance-enhancing substances (kryptonite instead of nitrous), and even the classic “one last race to settle all debts” climax. The only thing missing is Vin Diesel telling everyone about the importance of family while wearing a tank top.

But here’s where Smallville gets clever: instead of just copying the formula, they make the street racing personally meaningful to the characters. Pete’s not just some adrenaline junkie—he’s a young man struggling with feeling overshadowed by his superpowered best friend. Pete admits he feels overshadowed by Clark and his superpowers, which is why he’s taken up kryptonite-enhanced street racing. It’s actually a pretty brilliant character motivation wrapped in early-2000s car culture aesthetics.

Character Development in the Fast Lane

Clark and Pete: Friendship Under Pressure

The Clark-Pete dynamic in “Velocity” is surprisingly mature for a show that regularly features teenagers getting meteor-rock superpowers. Sam Jones III delivers what might be his strongest performance as Pete Ross, showing genuine vulnerability beneath the cockiness. Pete admits he feels he cannot truly excel at anything, unlike Clark, which gives weight to his dangerous obsession with racing.

Clark’s arc is equally compelling. Tom Welling plays Clark’s frustration beautifully—he’s watching his best friend make increasingly dangerous choices, and for once, super-speed can’t solve the problem. The moment where Pete asks Clark to “go Kal on an ATM machine” is particularly effective, highlighting how Pete sees Clark’s abilities as a convenient solution to problems rather than understanding the moral weight they carry.

Their final scene is remarkably honest. Clark doesn’t just forgive Pete with a heartfelt speech and a hug. The episode ends with Clark and Pete on uneasy terms following the events. It’s a rare example of Smallville allowing real consequences to linger, recognizing that some betrayals of trust take time to heal.

Supporting Players Find Their Groove

The episode smartly uses its supporting cast to enhance rather than overshadow the main plot. Chloe’s investigation into Adam Knight provides necessary breathing room from the racing storyline while advancing the season’s mythology. Allison Mack brings her usual energy to Chloe’s detective work, and her partnership with Lex continues to be one of the show’s underrated dynamics.

Michael Rosenbaum, meanwhile, gets to play Lex at his manipulative best. His blackmail of Dr. Lia Teng is clinical and effective, showing how Lex operates when he’s not being distracted by Clark’s mysteries. The way he systematically destroys her career to force her cooperation is genuinely chilling.

Moral Complexity in Black and White Television

Clark’s Ethical Rubicon

“Velocity” forces Clark to confront a moral dilemma that would become increasingly relevant as the series progressed: What do you do when doing the right thing requires doing wrong things? Clark expresses his frustration: “GLAD YOU’RE SO EXCITED, PETE!! Not only do I lie for you, I stole for you, now I’m cheating for you!”

This isn’t your typical “should I tell Lana my secret” moral quandary. Clark literally becomes a thief, steals Lex’s car, and plans to cheat in a race. The episode doesn’t shy away from the fact that these are serious ethical violations, even if they’re in service of saving Pete’s life. Jonathan’s advice about operating in “gray areas” provides guidance, but it doesn’t absolve Clark of the weight of his choices.

The brilliant thing about this moral framework is how it prefigures Clark’s later struggles as Superman. Sometimes saving people requires compromise. Sometimes the greater good demands actions that feel wrong in isolation. It’s sophisticated moral reasoning for a show that began with “freak of the week” meteor mutants.

The Price of Friendship

Pete’s arc raises equally thorny questions about loyalty and enablement. How far should friendship extend? Pete repeatedly puts Clark in impossible positions, asking him to violate his principles for Pete’s benefit. The episode doesn’t present Pete as purely sympathetic—his choices endanger others and force his best friend to become someone he doesn’t want to be.

Yet Pete’s desperation feels genuine. Dante threatens to kill Pete’s parents first, and then come after Pete if he still doesn’t pay up. The stakes are real, even if Pete created them through his own poor choices. It’s a nuanced portrayal of how good people can make terrible decisions and drag those they love down with them.

The Subplots: Building Season-Long Mysteries

Adam Knight’s Deteriorating Facade

The Adam Knight storyline in “Velocity” serves multiple purposes. Most obviously, it advances the season’s central mystery about his identity and connection to Lionel’s experiments. Ian Somerhalder continues to be effectively creepy as Adam, particularly in the scenes showing his physical deterioration. The image of him bleeding from his eyes before injecting himself is genuinely disturbing—body horror in a teen drama.

But the subplot also provides thematic resonance with the main plot. Both Pete and Adam are young men taking dangerous substances to enhance their performance—Pete with kryptonite-boosted fuel, Adam with his mysterious serum. Both are lying to the people who care about them. Both are spiraling toward disaster. It’s not subtle, but it’s effective parallel storytelling.

Lana’s investigation feels like genuine detective work rather than convenient plot advancement. Kristin Kreuk sells Lana’s growing unease with Adam, particularly when she confronts him with evidence of his assumed identity. The moment where Adam threatens her provides a nice pivot point, transforming him from mysterious love interest to genuine threat.

Lex’s Power Plays

Lex’s manipulation of Dr. Lia Teng showcases the character at his most coldly effective. Rather than the explosive confrontations he often has with Clark or Lionel, this storyline shows Lex’s methodical approach to getting what he wants. Lex informs the university that Dr. Teng was conducting illicit drug trials without FDA permission, threatening her tenure and funding to force her cooperation.

Michael Rosenbaum plays these scenes with perfect restraint. Lex isn’t angry or passionate—he’s simply solving a problem. The fact that he’s destroying a woman’s career is just a necessary step in his larger plan. It’s a chilling preview of the villain he’ll eventually become.

The connection to the larger mythology is also well-handled. We learn that Dr. Teng’s research involves “platelets unlike anything human or animal,” suggesting extraterrestrial origins. It’s the kind of subtle worldbuilding that Smallville does well when it’s not hitting us over the head with meteor rock metaphors.

Production Values: Style Over Substance (But What Style!)

Direction and Cinematography

Director Jeannot Szwarc brings a kinetic energy to the racing sequences that actually holds up reasonably well. The opening chase where Clark pursues the street racers has genuine momentum, and the use of super-speed effects feels more integrated than in some earlier episodes. The final race sequence, while clearly influenced by every car chase movie of the previous three years, maintains tension despite the predictable outcome.

The cinematography embraces the early-2000s aesthetic with gusto. Lots of blue-tinted night scenes, neon lighting, and that particular brand of high-contrast digital photography that screams “2004.” It’s dated, certainly, but it’s dated in a way that’s become charming rather than embarrassing.

The Cars and Effects

Let’s be honest: the kryptonite-enhanced cars are ridiculous. But they’re ridiculous in exactly the right way for this story. The green exhaust provides a visual link to the show’s mythology while giving the racing scenes a supernatural edge. It’s the kind of science-fantasy logic that Smallville built its reputation on.

Safety bars are clearly visible in the stunt car as it flips around during the crash sequence, and the mechanism used to propel the car upward can also be seen. The practical effects have that slightly rough quality that’s actually preferable to the over-polished CGI that would dominate later seasons. You can see the wires, but you believe in the crashes.

The car porn is appropriately fetishistic for the era. Close-ups of nitrous injection, loving shots of engine modifications, and enough automotive terminology to make car enthusiasts happy. It’s clear the production team did their homework on import tuner culture, even if they added their own kryptonite twist.

Performance Highlights

Sam Jones III deserves special recognition for his work in this episode. Pete could easily have been a one-note character making obviously bad choices, but Jones finds the vulnerability and desperation that make Pete’s arc compelling. His scenes with John Schneider are particularly effective, showing how Pete’s crisis affects the entire extended Kent family.

Ryan Merriman brings the right mix of charisma and menace to Jason Dante. He’s clearly channeling every “cool villain” from early-2000s action movies, but he makes it work within Smallville‘s heightened reality. Dante feels dangerous without being cartoonish, which is a difficult balance in this kind of story.

Tom Welling continues to excel at playing Clark’s moral struggles. The moment where he realizes he’ll have to “lie, steal, and cheat” to save Pete is beautifully played, showing Clark’s genuine anguish at violating his principles. Welling has always been strongest when Clark is facing ethical dilemmas rather than physical threats.

Season 3 Context: Finding Its Groove

“Velocity” arrives at an interesting point in Smallville‘s evolution. Season 3 found the show moving away from the pure “freak of the week” format toward more serialized storytelling, and “Velocity” demonstrates both the benefits and challenges of this transition.

The episode works because it combines character development with mythology advancement without sacrificing either. Pete’s crisis feels genuine and important, while the Adam Knight subplot provides necessary pieces for the season’s larger puzzle. The show is learning to juggle multiple ongoing storylines without losing focus.

At the same time, “Velocity” shows Smallville‘s continuing struggle with tonal consistency. The street racing plot is pure melodrama, while the medical conspiracy elements lean toward science fiction, and Clark’s moral crisis aims for genuine emotional depth. It’s impressive that the episode holds together at all, let alone works as well as it does.

The Cultural Moment: Fast Cars and Faster Heroes

Looking back, “Velocity” represents a perfect snapshot of early-2000s television ambitions. The Fast and the Furious had brought street racing into the mainstream, making it an obvious target for television appropriation. Every teen drama was looking for ways to incorporate the aesthetic and energy of import car culture.

But “Velocity” succeeds where many similar attempts failed because it doesn’t just borrow the surface elements—it finds ways to make street racing relevant to its characters’ emotional journeys. Pete’s need to excel at something becomes tied to the very culture that The Fast and the Furious had popularized. Clark’s moral compromises mirror the ethical gray areas that made that film’s characters compelling.

The episode also captures the specific optimism of early-2000s pop culture. The film was released in summer 2001 and offers a glimpse into the pre-9/11 innocence of the time, when everything still felt optimistic and cool. There’s a confidence to “Velocity” that reflects this cultural moment—a belief that any story can be told with enough style and conviction.

Legacy and Impact

Critical reception for “Velocity” was mixed, with some praising Sam Jones III’s performance and the moral complexity while criticizing the street racing plot’s derivative nature. In retrospect, the episode’s willingness to embrace its influences while finding its own voice feels more impressive than embarrassing.

“Velocity” also serves as an important character development moment for Pete Ross, one of the few episodes to center his character rather than using him as Clark’s sidekick. The episode gives kudos for featuring the under-utilized Sam Jones III as Pete as the main character and putting Clark in a precarious situation. It’s a reminder of what the show lost when Jones left the series.

The episode’s influence on later Smallville storylines is also notable. The willingness to put Clark in morally compromising situations would become increasingly important as the series progressed. “Velocity” establishes that Clark’s heroism doesn’t require moral purity—sometimes it requires the wisdom to know when rules need to be broken.

Final Verdict: Full Throttle Nostalgia

“Velocity” is undeniably a product of its time, from its kryptonite-powered street racing to its early-2000s fashion choices. But it’s also a genuinely engaging hour of television that takes its characters and their relationships seriously. The episode finds creative ways to explore themes of friendship, loyalty, and moral compromise within a framework borrowed from contemporary action cinema.

Sure, the premise is ridiculous. Yes, the street racing scenes feel like discount Fast and Furious. But at its core, “Velocity” is about two friends navigating a crisis that tests their relationship in fundamental ways. That emotional honesty elevates material that could have been purely exploitative.

In an era when superhero television often prioritizes spectacle over character development, “Velocity” serves as a reminder of what made early Smallville special. It’s a show that was willing to slow down and examine how its characters’ choices affected their relationships, even when those choices involved stealing sports cars and cheating in illegal races.

“Velocity” originally aired February 11, 2004, and remains available for streaming on various platforms. For fans of early Smallville or anyone nostalgic for the era when every TV show tried to capture the magic of The Fast and the Furious, it’s essential viewing—preferably with a side of low-sodium turkey sandwiches and a healthy dose of moral flexibility.