Overview:
We meet the characters. Each has a super-power of some kind. Some of them dream about jumping off buildings. Others like filming amateur stunts or teleporting to the ladies’ room. At present we’re all yogurt, but we should strive to be cockroaches. Like God. We’re all “special,” but some are more special than others. Lots of ideas about the meaning of life and our sense of isolation come up. It could have been sentimental, pretentious garbage. Instead, it turns out to be a beautifully realized vision of each individual’s struggle to come to terms with who they are. An awesome premiere from start to finish.
Review:
This is one of those shows which is inevitably going to elicit criticism for ripping stuff off. Before the premiere aired, there were people already comparing Heroes to Lost, Alias, Mutant X, and 4400. There were comic book purists already labeling each character a clone of Xavier, Wolverine or Nightcrawler.
The great part about Heroes? Unlike a lot of shows which deny appropriation or make a half-hearted attempt to be covert about it, you get the sense that every reference on this show is intentional. You get the sense that every superhero moment and every throw to comic book canon is an homage rather than a rip-off. Heroes works enough references to the stuff it’s borrowing from into its dialogue to make sure we get how seriously it takes its genre.
This is a sci-fi and comic book show written for sci-fi and comic book fans. But beyond that, it’s also a resolutely human show, one with the courage to take a stab at exploring the human condition and the kind of questions about existence that are timeless.
Which sounds lame, but turns out to be as extraordinary as the characters it focuses on.
We start out with an opening crawl, a clear allusion to Star Wars.
‘Holy $%*@!’ cry a couple of million viewers, ‘THAT’S how they’re going to start a superhero TV show? With words? With writing? You mean we actually have to THINK?!’
You can imagine the dismay which struck down an entire demographic holding a can of beer in one hand and a chicken wing in the other when they realized this wasn’t going to be your average brainless action show.
What’s worse for them is that this opening crawl is FAST. I mean, you need to make an effort to keep up with it. Which in itself is a good sign, if only as evidence that the show assumes we’re not idiots, and that it isn’t going to slow down for the people who aren’t paying attention.
In recent days, a seemingly random group of individuals has emerged with what can only be described as “special” abilities.
Although unaware of it now, these individuals will not only save the world, but change it forever. This transformation from ordinary to extraordinary will not occur overnight. Every story has a beginning.
Volume One of their epic tale begins here …
Cut to an image of the planet rotating. Perhaps disappointingly, the only continent we can distinctly make out is …
Well, you guessed it. *Sigh*
The sun disappears behind the Earth, and the show’s logo appears across the screen. Simple, straightforward, but also hauntingly beautiful.
Awesome. There’s no other way to describe the opening to this show other than awesome. It sets up the premise, it establishes the vision behind the show, and it underlines how the growth of the characters will be a gradual process.
The character who’ll later be introduced as Mohinder Suresh provides a voice-over about our “quest” to solve life’s mysteries despite our inability to answer even the simplest of questions: Why are we here? What is the soul? Why do we dream?
Contrived? Pretentious? Rhetorical nonsense? You’d think so, but on every count, I’d say no. Somehow, amid the persistent violins and the way the camera pulls back to reveal Milo V gazing into the distance as he stands on the ledge of a building, it works.
The camera takes an overhead view as Peter Petrelli (that, we’ll learn, is Milo’s name on the show) takes a step off the building and goes tumbling to the ground below.
Then a weird-but-intensely-cool CG shot as the camera goes zipping between skyscrapers. You could take that as a throw to Spider-Man, or just a really neat visual effects shot, the kind which you’d never guess could be done on a TV budget. It’s so elegantly shot, so beautifully realized, that it borders on feature-film quality. Like the opening crawl said, this is an epic tale.
Peter wakes up in a New York apartment. Apparently, he’s a hospice nurse. The kind who dozes off while being paid to tend to a nice lady’s father lying in bed.
That’s our hero there, people. Remember, this is the sensitive guy. His brother’s the git.
Peter tells Simone that her father hasn’t been conscious. Well, I guess he could have been. It’s just that Peter wouldn’t have been aware of it while he was dreaming about jumping off buildings.
Peter makes eyes at Simone. Simone doesn’t notice, but tells Peter that he’s like a son to her father. Which kind of creates an ew-factor given that Peter apparently has a crush on the guy’s daughter.
Peter apologizes. “That was inappropriate.” More inappropriate than, say, falling asleep when you’re supposed to be monitoring a patient? More inappropriate than jumping off the ledge of a building?
Meanwhile, in Madras, India, Mohinder is telling a class of students that man is “a narcissistic species by nature.”
Uh, thanks?
Mohinder is lecturing his class on how man has “colonized the four corners of our tiny planet.” At least he’s looking at all four corners. That’s more than can be said for the guys who came up with that CG spinning globe at the intro.
Mohinder goes on to tell his class that “the pinnacle of so-called evolution” is the cockroach. According to him, God’s a cockroach.
Which is either deeply profound or mildly blasphemous. I’m not sure.
Either way, the whole class looks at him like he’s out of his mind. I was pondering that myself when that awful bit of dialogue, the one which you all jumped on in the forums, came up: “They say that man uses only a tenth of his brainpower.”
Didn’t “they” also try really hard to explain how this statistic is totally false? The people writing this show must have missed the memo.
The dialogue gets better. There’s actually some attempt to explain the concept of the show through “tiny variations in man’s genetic code.” It’s a world away from Superman’s powers being drawn from the sun with a dense molecular structure, but the same principle applies: the show tries to base the abilities of its superheroes within a logical scientific framework. It’s hokey, sure, but plus points for trying.
Mohinder lists the powers which we’re now going to witness, talking excitedly about a “new gateway to evolution.” Good dialogue, and delivered by Sendhil Ramamurthy with the kind of ease and effortlessness that makes it sound natural.
Mohinder’s associate shows up at the back of the class and looks at him solemnly. It turns out that Mohinder’s father, who was also keen on exploring more than a tenth of our brainpower, is dead. Mohinder is adamant that it wasn’t his cab-driver profession which killed him, but his theories.
We learn that Patient Zero lives in Queens, New York. Nirand tries to convince Mohinder not to follow in Daddy Suresh’s footsteps. “He had clearly lost touch with reality,” insists Nirand. You mean he too was telling his students that we only use a tenth of our brainpower? He too was theorizing that God was a cockroach? Could that be why they fired him?
Mohinder rifles through his father’s apartment, idly leafing through folders. He then walks up to the map with pins attached to the location of every ‘patient’ which Daddy Suresh had been tracking.
Behind the wall, a guy in a trenchcoat is also rifling through papers. He answers his cellphone in an American accent.
Now, honestly, that surprised me. I mean, typically, it’s the non-Americans who turn out to be villains. There are a bunch of cliches in this episode, from the corrupt politician to the clueless-yet-well-intentioned mother. But at least the show steers clear of the cliche that all non-Americans are crooks, drug-dealers or terrorists.
Trenchcoat Guy tells someone on the other end of his cell that Daddy Suresh left everything behind, including his research and THE map. Mohinder sneaks out after photographing THE map and removing the pin attached to New York.
Cut to Ali Larter stripping for an online camera in Las Vegas. If it were any other show, I’d write it off as a ratings gimmick. Here, it serves the story. It does so only loosely, but it says something about the pressure which Niki’s under to keep Micah in school.
A lot of you thought that Niki Sanders was the least successful part of the premiere. It’s not just that she was annoying or obnoxious. Her superpower, and the prospect of her using it, is the part which seems unclear. At this point, all that’s established is that her reflection doesn’t tally with her real self, and that her son’s a prodigy who can build replacement logic boards for a computer.
It’s intriguing, sure. But next to the other characters we’re introduced to, it’s not compelling.
That said, I think there’s a lot to be said for the way Larter conveyed Niki’s pride and love for Micah. When she tells Micah that he’s “the smartest little man on the planet,” Larter’s smile captures the character’s attachment to her son perfectly.
Two guys show up at the house. As we later learn, they’re there to collect money from Niki, though you’d be forgiven for thinking they were there to collect the tech-whiz kid. Interestingly, they’re polite enough to ring the doorbell before they break in. How civilized the mob have become.
Meanwhile, in Texas, a cheerleader named Claire Bennet jumps seventy feet to see whether she’ll survive.
Read that again. It sounds ridiculous. It is ridiculous. But it’s Hayden Panettiere, and she’s hot, so I guess absurdity goes out the window.
Claire wants an anonymous nerd to video this stunt (along with five previous attempts), even though the prospect of having this ability and being abnormally different terrifies and depresses her. Make sense to you? Me neither. But watching Claire snap a grotesquely-disjointed arm back into place is at least good for the slapstick value.
It’s just, something about this character seemed weirdly familiar: a cheerleader with a special ability who desperately tries to ignore her power in favor of a normal life.
Yeah, that’s pretty much Buffy in Season One.
Respectful homage or (un)intentional rip-off? It could have been worse. They could have called her Buffy and made her a vampire in a sorority house. Because no other show ever stooped that low.
Peter throws himself off another building. No, wait, it’s the same building. We’re just watching it again. I guess it’s for the sake of anyone who tuned in during the commercials. Hi there! If you’re just joining us: there’s a dude who dreams about jumping off buildings, a guy in Madras who likes talking about cockroaches, an impoverished online stripper trying to support her precocious son, and a cheerleader whose hobby is undertaking near-death ordeals to see if she survives.
It’s better than it sounds, really!
We cut from Peter falling to a stunning aerial view of Manhattan. Peter continues falling, but before he hits the ground he sees an image of … Adrian Pasdar?!
Who wouldn’t want to meet him after jumping off a rooftop?
Pasdar is Nathan Petrelli, Peter’s ambitious, self-serving, arrogant brother. We’re supposed to hate him because (1) he puts his political career before family, (2) he doesn’t believe that Peter can fly, (3) he thinks that Peter’s job as a hospice nurse is a waste of time, and (4) he doesn’t have patience for his attention-seeking, kleptomaniac mom.
Some of those things definitely make him scum. Others, you’ve got to admit, are kind of defensible. It’s parsing them out which leads to great debate, and a testament to the complexity of the character.
Having survived a seventy-foot jump, Claire tells Anonymous Nerd that she’s so depressed. Imagine how she would have felt if she HADN’T survived attempt number six. We might have been spared this insufferable whining.
“My life as I know it is over, OK? I’ve got the Bishopgate next week, SATs in October, Homecoming’s three weeks from to-”
Sorry. Dozed off. Did I miss anything? Oh, yeah, the bit about Claire stabbing herself through the neck with a two-foot steel rod.
I’ll happily give that a miss, but will the scene where she hops onto Anonymous Nerd’s bike handlebars make it onto the DVD?
Please?
Claire pushing her ribs back under her skin and super-healing was a neat effect. It seems like she’s going to be the source of most of the gross-out sequences as the show goes on, but at the same time she’s the one who, more than any other character on the show, wants to forget about her powers.
Uh, then perhaps she should stop throwing herself off of tall metal structures? Just a thought.
Claire’s one of the characters we’re supposed to empathize with; the one who had an ability foisted onto her. The problem is that a lot of the time she acts like such a %*@# that you wonder WHY we should empathize with her. Watch this scene again sometime; watch how Claire snaps her fingers at Anonymous Nerd, demands that he hand her the video tape, and walks away.
Claire thanks him a moment later, but it’s undermined by the mock-generosity she shows by promising to talk to him “in front of people at school.”
There’s something compelling about the reluctant superhero, but when she treats everyone around her like garbage, it doesn’t make the character identifiable, or even particularly likeable.
Now, contrast that with the character who immediately became the most popular on the show: the dude who revels in his power and actively chooses to hone and develop it. Part of the reason Hiro’s so eminently likeable is his exuberance. Part of it‚Äôs that he’s so enthusiastic about turning the clock back a second. But it’s also because he’s the easiest character to relate to. In a show about characters with super-powers, this one is the most self-aware. This one sees himself and the others within the context of superhero lore. And rather than deny it, he actively embraces it.
The subtitles throughout Hiro’s scenes with his friend were a neat touch, reminiscent of Sun and Jin on Lost. Let’s be thankful this show didn’t dumb itself down to the point where it would have Japanese characters conversing in English.
Peter and Nathan visit Mommy Petrelli at the police precinct. Between flashing her undoubtedly-astronomically-expensive earrings and necklace, she tells her sons that she was arrested for stealing socks.
Nathan rants about how this could damage his bid for congress, and tells Mommy Petrelli to get over the fact that Dad’s gone.
Peter just kisses his mom and holds her hand.
Could there be a more contrived way to emphasize the difference between them?
My problem here isn’t that Peter’s being portrayed as the loyal and understanding son. It’s not even that Nathan’s being portrayed as the self-centered and unfeeling monster, even though I think his rationale is justifiable. It’s the simple fact that the vehicle for this portrayal, the lonely widow who “just wanted to feel alive again,” just doesn’t ring true.
You want to feel alive, lady? It’s called bungee jumping! Or snowboarding! Or hey, what about throwing yourself seventy feet off a metal girder?
Nah, let’s steal some socks!
Think about it. Between the priceless jewelry, the mink coat, and the gentle good-sense slap she gives Peter when he tells her about his connection to Nathan, does this woman strike you as an attention-seeker? Highlighting the difference between the two brothers by having Mommy Petrelli steal socks just feels incredibly tenuous. My feeling is the scene didn’t need to be here at all.
Peter laments that Nathan “only cares about himself.”
That’s not true! He also cares about running for congress! He cares about his public image! Heck, he also cares about (what was it? Oh, yeah …) helping his brother get psychiatric help for believing he can fly!
A ponderous scene follows in which Peter and Mommy Petrelli discuss how Nathan always demanded more attention and how he always needed to be put before Peter. This is the only thing which really, really slowed this episode down. I mean, it descends into something akin to the Keith and Dan Scott sibling drama in One Tree Hill. Can we please not go there on this show?
We get an overhead shot of a blazing derailed train. Claire and Anonymous Nerd show up and take in the horror. Anonymous Nerd thinks it’s “cool.” We all think he’s a d**k for saying it, but in a way, he’s right; not about the fire itself, but about the scene, because it embodies the heart of the show. It underlines that, beneath huge sets and pyrotechnics, Heroes will be a show about characters risking themselves to do good, using their abilities to help people, realizing their capacity to change the world.
Mohinder moves into Daddy Suresh’s Brooklyn apartment. He finds the apartment ransacked, and concludes that “they” were there. Would this be the same “they” that say we only use a tenth of our brainpower? Mohinder begins cleaning up the apartment and discovers that whoever trashed the place was incompetent enough to leave a cassette on the floor with “SYLAR” written on it. The goons on this show are seriously careless.
We’re introduced to another new character named Isaac Mendez. Isaac is an artist who becomes clairvoyant when he shoots up. This ability scares Isaac, to the point where he decides not to paint anymore and to efface all previous work with black paint.
See, THAT’S how you deny an ability. You don’t VIDEO it and make six attempts to establish that it’s not a fluke.
It turns out that this is the guy who Simone said she was dating. Simone is equally disturbed by said clairvoyance, particularly when Isaac shows her an older painting depicting a suicide bombing which has just appeared on the front page of the morning paper.
We return to the Petrelli family saga, with Nathan asking Peter why Mommy Petrelli can’t get herself a hobby, “like a normal person.”
Seriously. Bungee jumping. Think about it.
Nathan admits that he’s “a shark,” and that he needs Peter’s “nice-guy instincts” on his team while he’s running for congress. Apparently, a political coordinator is a more worthwhile job than a hospice nurse.
OK, now I agree that Nathan’s a %*@#.
“It’s not cute anymore, man; the dreamy kid sitting in the back of the classroom staring out the window.”
Dude, you just described me and half the people watching this show.
Peter gives his brother a look of contempt and exits Petrelli HQ. Soft piano music plays. By an amazing coincidence, Peter sees Simone on the other side of the street hailing a cab. By an even greater coincidence, the cab which Peter flags down is being driven by Mohinder.
Meh. The show operates on the principle that certain stuff is destined to happen, so I’ll let it slide.
We get one of the strongest scenes of the episode, with Peter and Mohinder striking up a conversation about whether they’re here to do something “extraordinary,” and whether they’re “special.” Mohinder observes that some people are “more special” than others, and that it’s “natural selection.” Orwell? Darwin? The allusions are oblique, but they’re definitely there. Easily the best-written segment of the episode, and very, very well delivered by Sendhil Ramamurthy.
A montage of the characters follows. The montage itself is elegantly done. The sad part is that by putting these story threads side by side, it highlights how much more interesting some of them are compared with the others.
I think most of us will agree that Hiro is the most entertaining character on the show so far. He’s the one character who remains upbeat about his ability. He’s the one we root for. He’s the one we want to see succeed. A lot of his dialogue is played for laughs, but he looks at his ability with such grandeur that it’s more endearing than delusional.
References to Star Trek and X-Men find their way into the script while Hiro contemplates his “purpose” and the ethical dilemma he faces to use his power responsibly. He becomes convinced that once he can control his power, he’ll be able to “tele-port” [sic] anywhere he wants.
Hiro and his friend visit a bar where there’s Backstreet Boys karaoke. It’s more likely a nod to the Chinese tribute duo than a product placement, but it’s funny either way. Amid the discussion about not using his ability for personal gain, Hiro teleports into the ladies’ bathroom. It’s cheap humor, but it’s funny nevertheless.
Niki wakes up on her bed to find the goons’ blood-spattered corpses lying next to her. Her reflection smiles and puts a finger to her mouth to say, “Shhh.” Is it spooky? Yes. The problem is I think a lot of us are struggling to connect with the character, and that means the spookiness doesn’t have much more than a generic effect.
Mohinder finds himself driving Trenchcoat Guy to the airport. Fresh from his visit to Madras, Trenchcoat Guy starts comparing the name Suresh to names like Smith and Anderson.
Ooh, NICE Matrix reference. You only wish that Hugo Weaving could have gotten a cameo as the boss of Trenchcoat Guy.
Claire’s home. An obnoxious little brother. A mom talking to a dog which looks exactly like Parker Posey’s cannibal canine in Superman Returns. A house with awards adorning every wall, celebrating Mom’s showdog glory.
Yeah, you can understand why Claire wanted to stab a two-foot steel rod through her neck.
Claire, in comically deadpan style, tells her mom that today she walked through fire and didn’t get burned. Mommy Bennet takes this to be figurative, and starts spouting out nonsense about testing ourselves and facing our fears. Was I the only one hoping the dog would give in to its carnivorous instincts and start eating her?
Hiro gets thrown out of the bar for appearing in the ladies’ room, and proudly tells his friend that he “tele-ported” himself.
Alright. That’s it. Could someone in production PLEASE fix that by removing the hyphen. Once was OK. Twice, and it’s starting to grate.
Hiro and his friend get into a debate about why anyone would want to be different and, more importantly, why anyone would be content to be the same.
Which is kind of the key question for Claire, who is Hiro’s opposite in terms of accepting their ability and reconciling themselves to the fact that they’re different.
Simone phones Peter and asks him to go to her father’s apartment. When Peter shows up, Simone tells him that she needs morphine, and that Peter needs to go with her.
Peter starts rambling about his destiny. Uh, Peter? Buddy? The nice lady wants morphine. Someone might need it very badly. You’re droning on about introspective crap like this? Just HELP her!
Meanwhile, at dog show central, Mommy Bennet tries to bond with her daughter. Movies. Shoes. Mall. Dog show? It’s gonna come around to dog shows in a moment, isn’t it?
Claire tells her mom that she loves her. You figure Mommy Bennet’s going to drop everything and throw her arms around her daughter. Instead, she gives a very uncertain, “But?”
Hey, is that two-foot steel rod still on the set?
Mommy Bennet tries to talk to Claire, telling her that she wants to be her mom and give her advice without pushing her away. The prospect of this is so unnerving to Claire that she loses her ring down the garbage compactor. Rather than let it go, Claire plunges her hand in after it.
Ooh, mangled fingers!
Claire starts dripping blood onto the floor. The dog shows up and begins lapping it up. I swear, it IS the dog from Superman Returns.
Amid the gross-out comedy, Claire’s hand super-heals, and the scene becomes surprisingly poignant. Claire tells her mom that she’s ready to find out about her real parents. It opens up a number of story possibilities, but more importantly, it affirms what we’d suspected since the scene at the dinner table: there’s no way that someone as extraordinary and gorgeous as Claire could be related to this run-of-the-mill family.
Daddy Bennet returns, and turns out to be Trenchcoat Guy.
Oh no. You can see where this is going, right? It’s turning into one giant exposition on the dysfunctional family. That, or it’s borrowing heavily from Point Pleasant and turning Daddy Bennet into Evil Incarnate while Claire tries to escape from her fate as the spawn of Satan.
I really hope I’m wrong there.
Hiro stands on a metro staring into the distance with a vacant, aimless expression. Masi Oka delivers the strongest performance out of any character in the premiere, but here, he really nails the scene. Having already proven that he can play over-the-top with excitement, he now proves that he can play lost-in-contemplation in equal measure. That’s a delight to watch.
The switch from Tokyo to Manhattan was a little disappointing. I was hoping for at least a sound effect to signal the shift in location, if not the kind of sequence that every one of Peter’s dreams seems to get. It’s not really clear how he teleports, whether he disappears or phases out of reality or dissolves.
Still, Hiro finds himself standing in Times Square. Mamma Mia! Product placement galore! Hello, New York!
Simone and Peter show up at Isaac’s apartment. For dramatic impact, the lightswitch doesn’t work. Fortunately (for that, read arbitrarily), Peter has a torch with him. I guess everyone living in Brooklyn carries one around with them these days.
Peter finds a syringe on the floor, then an unconscious Isaac. Peter tells Simone to call 911, then gets distracted by the paintings strewn around the apartment. OK, first: dude, shouldn’t you be tending to the guy who OD’d and comforting his distraught girlfriend? Second: the show’s gone to contrived lengths to portray you as the sensitive hero who knows when to pay attention to people’s feelings and NOT go wandering around looking at paintings. Act the part, would you? And third: you’re supposed to PAY for the gallery’s entry admission to see those!
Simone sobs uncontrollably over Isaac’s body while Peter perches in front of a portrait of himself hovering next to a building. It’s a Fateful Moment for our hero.
Isaac regains consciousness and mumbles deliriously about how “we have to stop it.” The camera pulls back and reveals the largest canvas in the apartment lying on the floor, one depicting an explosion erupting in the heart of New York. Now that‚Äôs ominous.
Another lovely shot of the New York skyline. The episode comes full circle, with Mohinder providing another voice-over about man’s “need to solve life’s mysteries,” and how “they” are here among us, everywhere.
Peter finds himself at the top of his building. He calls Nathan on his cell and invites him over to watch him jump. Nathan, for all his self-centeredness and arrogance, obliges.
Peter throws his cellphone from the rooftop to the ground below. That looked like a decent model. What a horrible waste of a good prop. If you guys didn’t want it, all you had to do was forward it to http://www.herosite.net, C.O. Otto Berkeley. Would that have been too much to ask? Would it?
Peter raves about his destiny, and how it’s his turn to “be somebody.” Buddy, not when you’re dead, it’s not.
Peter jumps, falls, then gets caught by Nathan in mid-air. They grab onto one another and spin round a bit. It’s sort of the uncoordinated spoof version of that final scene in the rain between Neo and Smith in Revolutions. Certain parts of this sequence looked outstanding. Others, it looked so fake that I was half-wondering whether we’d see the harnesses and green screen.
Peter loses his grip onto Nathan and falls to the ground.
To Be Continued …
That’s the premiere to Heroes, folks. Outstanding in parts, less outstanding in others. Overall, though, an amazing introduction to an exceptional show. On paper, the idea of a group of individuals developing super-powers and banding together to save the world sounds like something which, if not done correctly, could have really, really sucked.
This pilot episode? It didn’t suck. Not by a long shot. It’s not perfect by any means, but it’s undoubtedly the beginning of something that could well go on to be phenomenal. Visually, thematically, creatively, pretty much any way you look at it, the pilot to this show rocked. It sets up a premise so vast in its scale and so intricate in its story that the possibilities are endless. In that sense, it’s this year’s Lost.
The performances, pacing and dialogue weren’t always perfect. But when they were good, they were amazing.
Not all of the characters were immediately likeable, and a couple of times you couldn’t help wondering if it was a smart move to throw ten characters into the mix and expect us to immediately identify with all of them. But when the characterization and the drama on this show were good, they were amazing.
But you get the sense here that if you’re feeling a certain way towards the characters or the plot, it’s probably intentional.
That, at least to me, is what puts this show on a level with only two others: Lost and Buffy. You get the impression that Tim Kring, like J.J. Abrams and Joss Whedon, knows what he’s doing.
I might be wrong. Color me stunned if this time next year we’re venting about how inconsistent and poorly written this show has become. But after one episode, it seems to me that the team writing this show are crafting it with real care.
4 out of 5