You see J. J. Abrams, you see Alfonso Cuarón, you think, "Sounds like fun," right off the top. "What's it about?" you ask.
"Well," comes the response, "it's about a remarkably gifted little girl who can sense things others can't, read minds and the future, and manipulate reality. There's a ruthless, evil organization after her, and a bunch of good guys trying to protect her. When her latest set of step- parents are murdered, the head of the good guys frees a convicted murderer moments before his execution, and tasks him with protecting her. But — and here's the big surprise — unbeknownst to cutie or con, he is her father!"
"Wow," you say. "Sounds like fun. I'm in!"
But here's the problem. The professionals who create these shows are supposed to take these concepts and DEVELOP them. They are supposed to hire GOOD, CREATIVE WRITERS, who argue and debate the concepts, who develop them, who deepen them, who create backstories and a credible backdrop. There's a process that eliminates the silly and implausible. And the concept is adorned with characters who feel like real people — whose areas of smartness and dumbness make sense, who hit some sort of pathos with the viewer. The dialogue should sparkle (not insult).
And then you pick actors with range and depth, who can take characters that are good on paper, and breathe life into them.
None of this happened for the pilot of Believe.
Instead, what we have looks like the creators got together, came up with the concept, high-fived each other and put it immediately onto paper, without five seconds' development. Think of a thick-crust pizza, pulled out of the oven after five minutes baking. Great ingredients? You bet! But all raw and doughy and not-fun, leaving you thinking of how great it could have been.
I didn't like any of these people, except the little girl. None of them made sense. The hero/father was just obnoxious, not one thing more. Rescued from death, he slaps people's hands away like a petulant child, balks at everything, pouts—and yet completely inexplicably also fights for the girl. Kind of. Then goes back to pouting and being an idiot.
"No guns, we're the good guys?" Yeah, that makes sense... after *how many* foster parents have been murdered? Look, there's the Bad Lady. What's that in her hand? A gun? Hunh, who could have seen THAT coming?
And really, she doesn't need it. Evidently you can kill people by slightly turning their heads, about 1/10 as sharply as a chiropractor does. If we're that fragile, we all should wear deep-sea helmets.
NOBODY is believable in this. The little girl is ooh-aahhh psychic, so much so that she reads the entire psyche of a real doctor guy without even trying. But later she can't tell that this lady "doctor" — with her hand on her shoulder! — is a fake, is in fact the same woman who murdered her last step-parents by turning their heads a little bit? Nor that her father is her father?
Yeah, that makes sense.
And about that first doctor. He's this pouty little Doogie Howser doctor, who acts NOTHING like a doctor. He's shamed around by the attending nurses, goes home to his dying father, whimpers a bitter, self-pitying, accusing little pout-a-log into his dying ears (nice!), and gives up on doctoring. And THIS is the genius the little girl will risk everyone's life for, so she can tell him to buck up? Oh boy.
But in a little plot device, her father needs Dr. Pouty. A bullet has scratched his side a little bit. It's minor So minor that he needs about two stitches and no medicine — yet he limps (?), he gasps for breath even long after the "surgery" (??), he squeals in pain... Man. This is our hero?
Best lines belonged to the dying father.
And he didn't say anything.
Maybe it will get better. The premise has promise. But it'll take a lot more work and thought than they put into the pilot.
"Well," comes the response, "it's about a remarkably gifted little girl who can sense things others can't, read minds and the future, and manipulate reality. There's a ruthless, evil organization after her, and a bunch of good guys trying to protect her. When her latest set of step- parents are murdered, the head of the good guys frees a convicted murderer moments before his execution, and tasks him with protecting her. But — and here's the big surprise — unbeknownst to cutie or con, he is her father!"
"Wow," you say. "Sounds like fun. I'm in!"
But here's the problem. The professionals who create these shows are supposed to take these concepts and DEVELOP them. They are supposed to hire GOOD, CREATIVE WRITERS, who argue and debate the concepts, who develop them, who deepen them, who create backstories and a credible backdrop. There's a process that eliminates the silly and implausible. And the concept is adorned with characters who feel like real people — whose areas of smartness and dumbness make sense, who hit some sort of pathos with the viewer. The dialogue should sparkle (not insult).
And then you pick actors with range and depth, who can take characters that are good on paper, and breathe life into them.
None of this happened for the pilot of Believe.
Instead, what we have looks like the creators got together, came up with the concept, high-fived each other and put it immediately onto paper, without five seconds' development. Think of a thick-crust pizza, pulled out of the oven after five minutes baking. Great ingredients? You bet! But all raw and doughy and not-fun, leaving you thinking of how great it could have been.
I didn't like any of these people, except the little girl. None of them made sense. The hero/father was just obnoxious, not one thing more. Rescued from death, he slaps people's hands away like a petulant child, balks at everything, pouts—and yet completely inexplicably also fights for the girl. Kind of. Then goes back to pouting and being an idiot.
"No guns, we're the good guys?" Yeah, that makes sense... after *how many* foster parents have been murdered? Look, there's the Bad Lady. What's that in her hand? A gun? Hunh, who could have seen THAT coming?
And really, she doesn't need it. Evidently you can kill people by slightly turning their heads, about 1/10 as sharply as a chiropractor does. If we're that fragile, we all should wear deep-sea helmets.
NOBODY is believable in this. The little girl is ooh-aahhh psychic, so much so that she reads the entire psyche of a real doctor guy without even trying. But later she can't tell that this lady "doctor" — with her hand on her shoulder! — is a fake, is in fact the same woman who murdered her last step-parents by turning their heads a little bit? Nor that her father is her father?
Yeah, that makes sense.
And about that first doctor. He's this pouty little Doogie Howser doctor, who acts NOTHING like a doctor. He's shamed around by the attending nurses, goes home to his dying father, whimpers a bitter, self-pitying, accusing little pout-a-log into his dying ears (nice!), and gives up on doctoring. And THIS is the genius the little girl will risk everyone's life for, so she can tell him to buck up? Oh boy.
But in a little plot device, her father needs Dr. Pouty. A bullet has scratched his side a little bit. It's minor So minor that he needs about two stitches and no medicine — yet he limps (?), he gasps for breath even long after the "surgery" (??), he squeals in pain... Man. This is our hero?
Best lines belonged to the dying father.
And he didn't say anything.
Maybe it will get better. The premise has promise. But it'll take a lot more work and thought than they put into the pilot.
