As our pilot previews continue, we see Beauty and the Beast returning to television, but does it have any of the magic of the 80s' poetic romantic action show?
For those old enough to remember it, the 1980s' CBS series Beauty and the Beast holds a special place in our hearts. It starred Ron Perlman (now of Sons of Anarchy/Hellboy fame) as Vincent, the man with deformities that made him look a lion-faced vagabond who lived in candle-lit tunnels below the streets of New York... and Linda Hamilton (Terminator) as Catherine, an Assistant District Attourney, whom he saves one night from a vicious mugging in Central Park. For a while it was a fairy-tale story, mixing strong action, magically-designed sets and with the romantic soul of a poet (somewhere I still have the album of the rousing lyrical soundtrack - the first CD I ever bought). For two series it held the attention. We shall not speak of the unimaginative network betrayal in its third Hamilton-free season here...
So when you hear that someone is remaking the concept and updating it for a new generation, a quiet shiver goes up the spine - and not in a good way. It's like someone decided to make the fantasy equivalent to Citizen Kane and thought it would be, like totally, a good idea as a vehicle for Taylor Kutchner.
Kristen Kruek, probably best known as Lana Lang in the CW's most notable hit Smallville is the new Catherine Chandler. We first meet her as a rural suburban bar-tender who is closing up the place when an apparent mugging goes wrong, ending in the death of Catherine's mother. Catherine herself is saved by a shadowy-figure, something that seems part-human, part-animal. No-one believes what she saw and the case itself goes unsolved. Maybe that's what leads Chandler to change professions and become a cop and nine years later we meet her again as a driven detective in the kind of glossy-headquartered NYPD that only exists in fiction and a fashion sense sponsored by L'Oreal.
A new case is about to bring her past back to haunt her when DNA at a crime-scene matches the strange cross-species results at her own attack years before. This in turn leads to her the stylishly-grungy loft of one Vincent Keller (Terra Nova's Jay Ryan), a solider who is supposed to be long dead and whom we quickly realise was the man who saved her all those years ago. Can Catherine solve the case and somehow keep the faith with Vincent, her secret protector... someone who has been keeping tabs on her for a long time..? And just what IS Vincent's curse?
While there's no doubt that the 2012 result could be MUCH worse, there is still a hard-to-define all-too-generic sheen to proceedings, the kind of inoffensive but distractingly flat feel, look, design and pace... the kind that instantly makes it feel like an indistinguishable part of herd rather than an individually strong project... and comes accompanied by fully soft-focus, slo-mo, cityscape-montages that feature soundtracks destined for the lower half of the Top Twenty records chart. In short, it has 'The CW' running through it like a piece of branded sci-fi seaside rock with vivid colours but artificial pre-watershed flavouring.
The 1980s' Vincent was a magnificently designed creation, given life, power, form and resonating voice by a strong script,, set-decoration and Perlman's distinctive cadence, but Ryan's twenty-first century animal is mostly internalised. He boasts the occasional glowing eyes when in attack-mode and a scar on his cheek - one so gently cosmetically-rendered that it positively apologises for disturbing his chances of a Hot-Men-of-TV-Guide cover-shoot (which it probably hasn't). Perlman's Vincent recited poetry that recalled the majesty and poise of ages gone by, Ryan - through no real fault of his own - simply comes across as the furrowed-brow identikit flavour of the week - rather than any kind of unique screen-presence. Kruek does fine with a type of fiesty female role that is one half door-kicking heroine (and apparently suddenly champion-level martial artist) and one half lip-quivering, swooning damsel in distress merely waiting for a knight in shining armour to swoop in and rearrange her social diary and life priorities. (She's a little bit country, he's a little bit rock and growl). Twilighters will postively swoon, despite the glaring lack of chemistry between the two leads.
The supporting cast don't fare much better, merely providing the loosest framework for the main stars. Spooks/MI5 star and Ilkley-born Max Brown appears as Catherine's friend, Evan - her confidente / the coroner and does a decent job of being the 'not-Vincent' role. Nina Lisandrello is perfectly okay as Catherine's partner, Tess and has nothing to do but be peturbed by Catherine's secrets.
The 2012 Beauty and the Beast plays quivering lip-service to the original in name and premise, but there's a glossy, clinical execution (from Vincent's condition being the result of *yawn* muddy moral military machinations to Catherine's wardrobe being clearly more than her yearly take-home salary, stunt -work that actually screams counted-out choreography and essential swift-cut editing rather than organic fighting). In short, its major crime is that it doesn't capture a single drop of the otherworldly magic that so permeated the original. It's all artificial, generic youthful angst, no genuine, timeless passion.
Smallville sailed pleasantly on for nearly a decade, eventually growing into a more compelling skin, so it's entitely possible Beauty and the Beast could eventually do the same - a mixture of demographically-DNA'd procedural that rises to a higher potential - but as a purist, this simply doesn't have ANY of the instant animal magnetism or pedigree I need to keep it on my schedule.
5/10
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