Don't Like...

Apocalypse Nerd (C-) It's Peter Bagge's six issue 'post-Armageddon' tale about what would happen if a computer nerd and his jock best friend had to fend for themselves in the face of nuclear anarchy. That whole 'last man on earth' fantasy is a pretty standard trope in science fiction, and is never more prevalent in times of socio-economic crisis. (During the '80s, I recall a hell of a lot of 'post-apocalypse' fiction coming out in movies and T.V. From 'Mad Max' to 'Threads', it was a sub-genre with a lot of legs to it.)

The problem is, Peter Bagge as a storyteller just doesn't know how to end a story. He had the same problem in his popular series, 'Hate' about the life and loves of Buddy Bradley, the slacker-est slacker in the Pacific Northwest. (That series ended on a lame 'in-joke'.) 'Hate' ended because Buddy had reached a compromise with his life, and the most interesting part of his life was over, and thusly, there were no more tales to tell. (Interesting aside: Version 2.0 of Love and Rockets operates on the premise that the Hernandez' brothers characters are natural celebrities, and takes for granted that there's an audience for the most boring details of their lives.)

Dollhouse (tentative C) Put it this way: if Joss Whedon's name wasn't on it, I'd have given it a pass. Unlike 'Firefly', the premise is kind of convoluted, and let's face it, Eliza Deshku is fine eye-candy, but kind of limited as an actress for this type of thing.

So the premise is thus: A company develops a technology where they can 'wipe' the memories and personalities of young, attractive people and implant different personalities and skills in them for a price. Naturally, the assumption is that there are enough rich people out there who are in the position to hire this service-who's default service is 'escort who genuinely loves you'. In watching the first two episodes of this series, a whole load of 'But-but...there's no explosions in space!' type of questions arise.

First off, given the amount of cost is setting up and maintaining this type of operation, the costs to any clients would be astronomical. To the point where your average rich guy would figure it would be less money and hassle to fly to Vegas and get a couple of high-end escorts who were Penthouse Pets, instead. (Or hiring an actual, experienced hostage negotiator or back-up singer...) Any remaining richie riches wanting to use this service wouldn't provide enough of an income to support this type of company, unless the company's premise was just a front for a broader scheme that the viewer isn't aware of. (Which I presume is a sub-plot of the series.) It's like trying to invent a battery-powered battery installer.

Secondly, the dramatic arc of the series involves Eliza's character, 'Echo' various personalities starting to bleed into each other, creating the show's major conflict. In practical terms, this means the organization is at a terrible legal, financial, and practical liability. (Another subplot involves an earlier blank slate's personalities blending into a murdering psychopath and escaping.) As a viewer, this means that in order to maintain an interest in the show, you have to identify with the main character. Since there's no 'there, there' in this case, your interest is going to be limited. About as limited as Eliza Deshku's acting abilities. (Put it this way: How do you get the batteries into the above-mentioned battery installer?)

I'll give it a few more episodes, but unlike Firefly, I won't be too bummed when it gets canceled.