Under Siege 2: Dark Territory (1995, Geoff Murphy)

It’s never good when the worst thing about a Steven Seagal performance isn’t the Steven Seagal performance.

Kidding.

Sort of.

And while he’s terrible in Under Siege 2: Dark Territory, he’s far from the worst performance. Stunt cast villain Eric Bogosian is much worse, for instance. As is Seagal’s sidekick, Morris Chestnut, who’s playing a Black sidekick out of the sixties. But Territory humiliates Chestnut (and all the female actors) regardless of their abilities. So the worst performance must go to Everett McGill, whose “soldier of fortune” tough guy only shows any enthusiasm when he gets to be pervy with fourteen-year-old Katherine Heigl. The rest of the movie, McGill’s a joke. That scene, it’s real creepy.

Heigl is playing Seagal’s niece. He’s meeting her train in Denver, and they’re going together to Los Angeles. It’s unclear why. Her parents have recently died in a plane crash—hence the train travel—but since Seagal refuses to talk for most of the film (not a bad move), we don’t get any information on what they’re planning on doing in L.A.

They just happen to be on the same train as Brenda Bakke and David Gianopoulos, who are two employees at a secret military installation run by Kurtwood Smith. The tedious opening titles reveal Smith and his gang, including the CIA guy from the first movie, Nick Mancuso (who’s the butt of a joke he doesn’t seem to get), have a secret agent spy scope that pulls in the moon, the stars, the planets, and the satellites, and the little bitty space men. It can even perv on women sunbathing, which the film gleefully explores.

Anyway.

Bogosian designed the satellite (an earthquake gun out of a Bond movie), only then he got fired for being unstable, so he faked his death, teamed up with domestic terrorist wannabe McGill, and hatched a plan to ambush Bakke and Gianopoulos on the train for their spy codes. Much of the film feels rewritten between scenes, though it never seems to get any better, just makes less sense.

McGill’s crack team of red shirts for Seagal to take out later on include familiar faces like Jonathan Banks and Peter Greene, along with Scott Sowers as “the racist one.” Why’s he racist? Because.

Dark Terrority’s also got the interesting problem of director Murphy. He’s not good at any of it. He’s not good with the actors, he’s not good with the fight scenes (he bungles every one of Seagal’s fisticuffs), and he’s not good with the pyrotechnics. The movie’s got lots of good explosions; it just doesn’t shoot them well.

However, much of the action is green screen and cinematographer Robbie Greenberg’s atrocious lighting for it. On the other hand, the actual stunt guy (not Seagal) climbing on the train is fantastic.

Basil Poledouris’s score is bad but could be worse. It’s kind of funny how obviously Poledouris wants to give Seagal the Robocop theme.

There’s some actual “Die Hard on a train” inventiveness in the second act, but the movie quickly forgets about it, especially since Murphy can’t direct it.

Also returning from Part 1 are Andy Romano and Dale Dye. Romano’s actually pretty dang good, all things considered. And, unlike almost everyone else, Dye doesn’t embarrass himself.

Oh, and the bad mid-nineties CGI.

Dark Territory’s a briefly fascinating time capsule, but otherwise, it’s terrible, boring, and gross about teenager Heigl every chance it gets.

American Gothic (1995) s01e08 – Strong Arm of the Law

It’s all hands on deck for this episode (except for Brenda Bakke), like everyone wanted a chance to work with guest stars Matt Craven and Richard Edson. Craven and Edson are in town to shake down the local business owners. They’ve got a couple more in their gang, doofus Jim Gloster and rapist Joseph Granda. Initially, they give off big ex-con carpetbagger vibes as they’re from Michigan, but once we find out their actual backstory….

Well, “Gothic”’s got its sense of humor, after all.

They don’t show up in the first scene, though. Instead, the cold open is Lucas Black and Christopher Fennell snooping around a house, hoping to see a girl taking a bath. When he goes to peek, however, Black witnesses a murder. By pig men.

Post-credits, the boarding house (now apparently run by a white lady instead of the Black woman from before) has four new guests who take a suspicious interest in Black, which Jake Weber doesn’t seem to notice.

The episode ends up being a Gary Cole one, as he has to deal with the interlopers, but for the first act, it seems like it’ll be more balanced between the cast. Deputy Nick Searcy and reporter Paige Turco, not to mention the townsfolk, think Cole brought in the out-of-town muscle to remind folks they need to be more appreciative of their demonic sheriff. Weber’s got an autopsy of their murder victim, which seems like it ought to tie him in, especially since Black starts snooping on his fellow boarding house guests.

At one point, he’s got to use anti-demonic powers (no Sarah Paulson this episode, either), and it’s a tepid power, even given “Gothic”’s capabilities as a mid-nineties TV show. But Black versus the gang is toothless; even though we’ve established they’re vicious killers, they’re mostly just bullies and within limits.

As Cole starts facing off with them and manipulating them, the rest of the cast and their potential subplots fade away one by one.

There’s some good acting from the regular cast—Cole, Searcy, Black, Weber; Turco gets a really shitty part this episode, and then they whiff on its execution. I’m not sure director Mike Binder is a good fit for network television. And then Craven and Edson are fantastic, though differently. Edson’s just a hoot, but Craven’s phenomenal. The whole episode seems like it’s setting up a showdown for Craven and Cole.

Then it doesn’t, which just makes the ending way too pat.

It’s a good forty-five minutes of television but a middling “Gothic.”

Richard III (1995, Richard Loncraine)

Richard III takes place in an alternate history where the British are five hundred years late with their royal wars, but still in the 1940s for technology and rising fascism. The film doesn’t update Shakespeare’s dialogue, so it’s the cast performing while dressed—increasingly—as Nazis. Except they’re British.

Well, not Annette Bening or Robert Downey Jr. Bening and Downey don’t do accents, implying there’s an accent-free United States out there. The people they’re playing in the play (who are people from history) were not American. There wasn’t a United States when the events took place. So I thought there might be some subtext to them being American. Nope. Richard III doesn’t do subtext, but it especially doesn’t do it with Bening and Downey.

Bening is not good, but she tries. Downey’s terrible. It’s unclear how hard he’s trying. He performatively fidgets in the backgrounds occasionally, presumably to keep himself in the movie, since it doesn’t do anything for his character development. Bening tries with the character development.

Doesn’t go anywhere, but again, she does try. And there are hints of better scenes. For example, in the second half of the film, when Ian McKellen is taking over, Bening gets together with the other women for an establishing shot and then a cutaway, but presumably, they’re very upset.

No one in the movie gets a good part except McKellen, but it’s not like Richard doesn’t fail him too. The first act’s dynamite, with McKellen plotting against brothers John Wood and Nigel Hawthorne and forcing the audience to conspire with him. They handle the plays asides with McKellen directly addressing the camera, tickled pink with his plotting. This device almost entirely disappears by the finish, apparently an appropriate adaptation of the source play.

But it’s not a good adaptation of it.

Similarly, no one really thought through the third act’s visual clashes—attempted usurper Dominic West (not good, not too bad) is dressed as a British commando from a WWII movie, complete with beret, off to fight… the British Nazis. Director Loncraine is initially bad at the war action but gets much worse for the finale. Richard III coasts through most of its run time on McKellen, trying to keep ahead of the film being entirely out of steam. It seems like it’ll make it; then comes the battle finish and Loncraine’s terrible work on it.

The film has big visual problems throughout, but Loncraine at least seemed to be trying to do something. Unfortunately, the finish is a smorgasbord of thoughtless bad.

Other than McKellen, who’s great when the film lets him be, the best performances are Kristin Scott Thomas (who should’ve had Bening’s part for sure) and Maggie Smith. Smith’s got about three scenes and seven lines. Scott Thomas has about double. Nowhere near enough for either.

Jim Broadbent plays McKellen’s chief sidekick and is relatively bland and obvious. It should be a better performance. There are excellent supporting players like Wood and Hawthorne, but also Jim Carter, Bill Paterson, Tim McInnerny, and Edward Hardwicke. All the actors are game (well, not Downey); it’s just Loncraine and company doesn’t put it together.

Peter Biziou’s photography is okay. Not the occasional composite shots. But Paul Green’s editing is jerky, and then Trevor Jones’s smooth jazz score is a (bad) choice.

Also, real quick—they reuse the same slamming door sound for about three minutes straight, regardless of door, and I’m wondering if it sounds so familiar because it’s from DOOM or something. DOORSLAM.WAV.

Anyway.

Richard III’s a slightly interesting but quickly pointless staging of the play. It’s never stagy, I suppose, but whatever they do instead doesn’t work either. McKellen’s first-act performance is singular, though. The rest is okay to good, but he has a unique first act.

American Gothic (1995) s01e07 – Meet the Beetles

I’m not sure what iteration of “Make Bruce Campbell Happen” his guest appearance on “Gothic” fits in, but I was expecting more of a showcase. Campbell’s a state cop come to town at the behest of his sister (Derin Altay); her husband’s missing, and she’s convinced he’s been running around with Brenda Bakke. When sheriff Gary Cole doesn’t take Altay seriously, she calls in Campbell. Campbell immediately suspects Cole of being jealous over sort of girlfriend Bakke having other male attention and starts investigating him.

The episode opens with Lucas Black and his best friend, Christopher Fennell, traipsing around Black’s old, now burned-down house. They find a skeleton (and Sarah Paulson’s old doll), with the skeleton turning out to be Altay’s missing husband. Except he’s only been gone a couple days, nowhere near enough time for the decomposition.

Pretty quickly, both Turco and Cole realize the skeletal status of the deceased has to do with Beetles. The local, exceptionally creepy natural history museum is basically an excuse for boss Selene Smith and her staff to feed carcasses to the beetles and get shiny bones in return. Smith’s fascination comes off as obsessive, whereas Turco and Campbell both think bugs are gross. Cole doesn’t seem to mind them, though we also don’t get any scenes of him controlling them or anything demonic.

We do more of a look into Cole and Bakke’s relationship. He’s nowhere near as in control of her as previous episodes have suggested; Bakke’s character arc is the show’s second most impressive at this point. Black gets the number one spot (his arc this episode weaves through the police procedural), then Bakke, then probably Nick Searcy (who’s not around this episode at all), then Sarah Paulson (who’s got very little here, but it’s all vital) then incompletes for everyone else so far. While there is an exposition dump between Jake Weber and Turco before the opening titles, Weber disappears at that point. What with a special guest star and an actual mystery, no reason to keep doctor Weber around. Wait, maybe Weber’s there for the autopsy, then disappears. He’s definitely gone once the bugs take off.

Oddly, the episode calls back to that opening conversation between Weber and Turco at the end—she’d had an offer to cover a major story in Charleston, meaning she’d have to leave the show—when it turns out the offer’s somehow a Cole machination. Only there’s no explanation of how or why. Victor Bumbalo and David Chisholm get the writing credit for this episode, and there’s a big swing in quality. Not to mention the icky way dudes talk about Turco and Bakke, which is even worse when you think about how it’s probably sanitized what women would’ve gone through in the nineties South.

Despite the terrible video montages, the episode’s fairly good-looking. Director Michael Nankin does a little better with Bakke’s falsely accused femme fatale arc than Turco’s amateur investigation. Black’s arc fits somewhere in the middle; despite the excellent acting, Black’s treading water this episode.

It’s a real good episode. Probably Turco’s best performance so far, with great work from Cole, Bakke, and Black. And the forty seconds of Paulson.

Real good.

American Gothic (1995) s01e06 – Potato Boy

CBS didn’t air Potato Boy during “American Gothic”’s original run. It started the network shuffling the show order in earnest, presumably to make the show more accessible to new viewers. Since it’s television—network television—they somehow managed to skip a literal onboarding episode. Gary Cole narrates Potato Boy’s first act, clueing the viewers in on the ground situation. The episode deep dives into two and a half characters in addition to the youthful (“Gothic”) adventures of recently orphaned Lucas Black. It’s an awesome done-in-one.

Of course, the network screwed it up.

Michael Nankin gets the writing credit and directs; Nankin’s the best direction on a “Gothic” episode so far. He likes watching the actors, which is essential given the character examination aspect of the episode, but also as a contrast for Cole. Everyone else feels, and we see them feel; Cole’s like a lizard. He’s calm, motionless, then he acts. And he’s trying to pass those lessons on to Black.

Their arc in this episode’s disturbing. Black seems closer to drinking the dark side Kool-Aid than ever; whenever he gets this close to Cole, Sarah Paulson usually shows up, but she’s got an offscreen subplot involving the title character.

The Potato Boy is an urban legend amongst the youth of Trinity proper. Being raised in the country, Black isn’t informed—his pals, Christopher Fennell and Evan Rachel Wood, have to warn him about the mutant child who does nothing but sing hymns from his attic cell. Ghostly sister Paulson visits Black and becomes enchanted with the singing and disappointed in her apathetic brother. Paulson comes back a few times in the episode, but she’s off having the supernatural adventure of the episode, which they haven’t got the budget for.

Black also bonds with reverend John Bennes after legal guardian Tina Lifford takes Black to church for the first time. Bennes figures into Black’s A-plot and Brenda Bakke’s B-plot. Bakke and Searcy alternate the B-plots. The episode does a complex examination of Bakke, subtly and not; it’s a fantastic episode for her, easily her best, but also the best female part on “Gothic” so far. Meanwhile, Searcy’s in therapy, except he can’t talk too much about the details of his working relationship with Cole. Searcy’s phenomenal.

What with covering up Cole murdering Paulson and all.

Then Jake Weber’s got a C-plot, which also ties into Black’s plot and Bennes’s church. Nankin gets some great acting out of Weber too.

Heck of a lot of great performances this episode—Black, Bakke, Searcy, Paulson, Weber, and, of course, Cole (who’s so good narrating even though the narration’s too much and not enough you miss it once it’s gone). “American Gothic”’s a very special show and Potato Boy’s its most successful episode.

Obviously, CBS bumped it.

American Gothic (1995) s01e05 – Dead to the World

This episode’s got five writers credited, apparently two different teams (Robin Green and Mitchell Burgess on one, Shaun Cassidy, Michael R. Perry, and Stephen Gaghan on the other). Guild arbitration or extreme fairness? Regardless, World works better than almost anything else with five credited writers; the episode’s all “Gothic”’s strengths, none of its… well, weaknesses is a little extreme (though not inaccurate given last episode’s teenage girl objectification issues). None of those problems here, though Barnaby Carpenter is back from last episode, now running the town junkyard.

He’s helping Paige Turco investigate the accidental death of her childhood friend, played by Melissa McBride. Now, we, the audience, know McBride’s death wasn’t accidental. The episode opens in flashback; McBride was dating Gary Cole (then still a deputy, which is an interesting timeline), and he had her snooping on just-born Lucas Black. McBride figures out he’s the baby’s daddy and freaks out, so he drives her into the river to drown her quiet.

The opening flashback, with the sped-up video, is the worst-looking sequence in the episode. James. A. Contner is probably the series’s best director so far, definitely for Turco. Turco’s intrepid reporter is still too bold but has a complex layer of compassion beneath it. Once she starts questioning McBride’s mom, played by Linda Pierce (quietly and eventually devastating as a Southern belle caricature), Turco pretty quickly figures out Cole’s involved somehow. Only when she confronts him he’s not too worked up about the implications.

Cole and Black have the B plot. Black’s in an archery competition with his best friend, Christopher Fennell, and Cole tries to teach him winning’s more important than anything else. So it’s a supernatural villain figure trying to instill toxic masculinity in Black, juxtaposed against the C plot, where sheriff’s deputy Nick Searcy tries (and fails) to protect his ex-wife and son from her bastard new husband (a too soap opera-y John Shearin).

Meanwhile, Sarah Paulson can just watch sadly as Black falls into Cole’s clutches. She and Black have an exceptional scene where he asks her about getting smarter after dying—which she’s done from his perspective, but maybe not her own. The show hasn’t gotten into the rules of Paulson’s spirit existence at all, which allows for big swings (and hits).

Then Brenda Bakke and Jake Weber are both around a bit too. Weber is the one telling Searcy about Shearin being abusive, while Bakke’s using her role as school teacher to screw up Fennell’s chances in the contest. We finally get to see her and Cole canoodling, and it’s fantastic. We also finally get to see the new sheriff’s department set, which is solid; it’s nice they’ve got a recurring location.

There are some 1995 TV bumps, mostly the guest star acting or just the general shot composition, but World’s finally got everything clicking, even if the regular cast’s too big for an episode. Cole’s particularly great this episode, Black and Searcy are fantastic, Turco’s coming along, Bakke’s finally to act even if briefly, ditto Weber.

“Gothic”’s great.

American Gothic (1995) s01e04 – Damned If You Don’t

Even in 1995, “American Gothic” knew not to cast an actual teenager as the fifteen-year-old Brigid Brannagh plays. It just didn’t know not to still ogle early twenties Brannagh as she plays that teenager. While, sure, it’s Southern Gothic, it’s also contorting itself to allow objectifying Brannagh, even though she’s in constant danger of rape from Max Cady-lite ex-con Muse Watson. Watson’s just out of jail and surprised to find Brannagh grown up (though he never would’ve met her before); she’s the daughter of his former employee, Steve Rankin, who’s gone on to buy Watson’s junkyard and, presumably, move into his house.

While the episode shows off its crane multiple times for the junkyard location, it never shows Rankin’s house actually being near the junkyard. So there’s a little bit of a disconnect.

Rankin has to put Watson up a few days as a favor to town sheriff and likely demon Gary Cole. Cole did Rankin a favor in his youth when he was messing around with the boss’s daughter; first, Cole wanted Rankin to let Brannagh work at the sheriff’s station as an intern under Cole’s wing. When Rankin doesn’t go for it, and there’s a mysterious household accident, Cole comes up with the temporary halfway house favor. Now, presumably, someone had an idea why Cole would want Brannagh as a sidekick (he’s not creepy to her), but since Cole’s always an enigma (or limited by the writers), the episode often feels too constrained.

The A-plot with Cole and Rankin is basically just a guided “Twilight Zone” with occasional crossover to the B and C plots. B plot is Lucas Black wanting to make a tornado machine for his science fair; it’s fantastic. He gets different offers of help from Jake Weber and Cole while weighing his new friendship with cousin Paige Turco, as well as disappointing ghost sister Sarah Paulson. Black and his friends start the episode, actually, at the junkyard. The show does a great job sharing plot points and characters, like Turco questioning Rankin about her parents’ death. Of course, Watson knows something about it, but the script seems to forget. It also misplaces Watson’s family, who presumably still exist somewhere.

Turco’s town investigating plot is dawdling, so when it seemed like Watson may pay off, it got some energy back. The stuff with Turco and Black is good, the stuff with Black and Weber is good, Black and Cole—there are no problems with the B or C plots in this episode. Not when the A plot’s got so many different ways to be problematic. In addition to the objectifying, director Lou Antonio also goes for exaggerated angles. This episode has lots of bad video editing and montages; visually, “American Gothic” ages terribly.

Thank goodness for the actors and much of the writing (script credit to Michael R. Perry and Stephen Gaghan).

American Gothic (1995) s01e03 – Eye of the Beholder

There’s a slight mea culpa feel to this episode, which is really Pilot: Part III. The show’s finally ready to set up the ground situation, for real this time, and it’s going to be more accessible. There aren’t any big CGI set pieces this episode, but there’s more with crows being sheriff Gary Cole’s evil messengers. The show also remembers there ought to be some Black characters, so Jake Weber’s sidekick Michael Burgess gets the A-plot. Cole wants him to testify against Weber in Lucas Black’s custody hearing, so Cole sends Burgess’s wife, N’Bushe Wright, some kind of cursed mirror.

To get his wife back, Burgess will have to betray a friend.

It’s a nice arc for Burgess, who previously just nodded along to Weber’s medical dialogue, and its not too dreary ending is successful. “Gothic”’s got a problem with its cast, lead, supporting, and guest—they can only take so much before they’ll have to leave town, one way or another. Especially since last episode set up the town as the “Bermuda Triangle of South Carolina,” with the most missing persons in the state.

Because Cole kills them, presumably.

So it could very easily do a loose anthology format for the A-plot, with the Cole versus Weber and Paige Turco for Black’s soul being the continuous season plot. It still may. But from this episode, it appears “Gothic” will keep things entwined and dependent. It’s a well-executed story, which includes Black making a new friend in conveniently introduced boarding house proprietor Tina Lifford (also Black, so the show’s got at least two Black recurring cast members now).

There’s some spectacular acting from Black in this episode, whose performance is a masterclass in good kid acting. Cole’s awesome, though his character’s supernatural powers are starting to raise many questions for characters and viewers alike. There are some bad nineties video editor filter montages to show when Cole’s using the powers, and since he can go into a church and be devilish… they’re racing towards needing some explanation.

Weber’s barely in the episode (Nick Searcy’s not at all), while Turco kind of hangs out with Black, kind of wanders around her long abandoned hometown. It’s a mystery arc. “Gothic” is basically tying four strong protagonists together and hoping Cole’s compelling enough to keep moving in lockstep. So far, so good.

While not entirely absent, Sarah Paulson doesn’t get much this episode. Including a resolution to her and Black’s “fight” last episode, which was the hard cliffhanger and was in the previous episode recap… something else the show apparently decided to tone down.

Judi Ann Mason gets the writing credit based on her story with show creator Shaun Cassidy. Jim Charleston directs. On the one hand, Charleston’s not very good. On the other, he knows to let Black and Cole have their space. However, Thomas R. Moore’s editing is way too impatient.

The end’s a little too neatly tied, going past not too dreary into saccharine. Hopefully, they’ll get the tone settled, as they’ve established the ground situation (again).

American Gothic (1995) s01e02 – A Tree Grows in Trinity

Tree picks up immediately after the pilot, only it’s been however many months since they shot the pilot, and now they’re filming for fall airdates. Lucas Black and Sarah Paulson are both a little visibly older, Jake Weber’s got a completely different haircut, Paige Turco’s costumes are better, and Gary Cole’s even eviler.

With the previous episode, I was worried the lackluster mid-nineties CGI special effects and bewildering “horror” direction would set the tone for the series itself, regardless of the director returning. Unfortunately, the regular series seems to be doing more bad CGI effects and editing transitions with less money for the effects. More bad effects. It looks goofy.

But it also doesn’t matter. The show survives the bad special effects, the unimpressive direction (Michael Katleman), and photography (Stephen McNutt). It excels, in fact. Not despite its technical failings but indifferent to them. Once the actors start talking, nothing else matters.

The show’s split between the good guys—Black, Weber, Turco—and the bad guys—Cole, Brenda Bakke—with Paulson detached because she’s an ethereal being. Everyone else is a pawn in some way or another, most obviously Nick Searcy, who’s got a great, awkward scene with Weber to kick the episode off.

There are a couple guest stars this episode: Arnold Vosloo (still during his “Renaissance Productions-only” phase) and David Lenthall. Vosloo’s an out-of-town reporter who’s got one heck of a story to tell, while Lenthall is the county coroner. He’s got to do autopsies on Paulson and her father, except Cole doesn’t want anyone finding out he snapped Paulson’s neck and whatever happened with the dad. And Lenthall owes Cole.

Paulson doesn’t take kindly to Lenthall screwing up her autopsy and letting her murderer go free, so she causes a supernatural incident in the morgue. It’s so much bad special effects at once—and Lenthall’s bad—it seems like the show’s going to derail. But then the regular cast takes over, and things smooth out again.

While Weber’s not on the level of Black, Cole, or Searcy, he takes it up a notch this episode as he gets to interact with Bakke for the first time. There are some nice muted character reveals and development, and Weber works them in beautifully. And Turco’s better, though she’s still just hanging around. Bakke’s Southern belle femme fatale is captivating, even if the characterization’s not without its issues.

Series creator Shaun Cassidy again gets the script credit, with the episode really finishing up the pilot responsibilities. It might’ve been nice for CBS to let them do a two-hour premiere… or at least give them enough money to keep the effects on the same level. But, no, “American Gothic” appears it will have some lousy mid-1990s TV show CGI.

And I do not care.

Because the rest of it, even when the cast’s interacting with that lousy CGI, more than makes up for it. I’d forgotten TV could look terrible and still be great, thanks to the actors and writers, back when it was more filmed stage productions than segmented movies.

Anyway.

“American Gothic” gets great by the end of this episode. It’s incredible.

American Gothic (1995) s01e01

I was happier than I should be to discover executive producer Sam Raimi didn’t direct this pilot episode of “American Gothic.” Raimi and Rob Tapert’s Renaissance Pictures produced the series (for Universal and CBS), so I just figured Raimi directed the first one. But, no, it’s Peter O’Fallon. Instead of talking about Raimi being unable to direct a TV show, I just get to say O’Fallon’s an exceptionally mediocre TV director. It’s not entirely his fault; it’s the mid-nineties, and it’s TV. There’s hacky CGI to shoot for, there’s some video footage split in, and there’s whatever’s going on with Ernest Holzman’s photography. Hopefully, O’Fallon won’t be the show’s template but given his bare competence doing a genre show with supernatural special effects… it’s kind of amazing when the show gets great.

The show doesn’t get great and stay great; it just has enough great scenes, sometimes cut short by commercial breaks (still the bane of narrative flow), sometimes just gone wrong. The show gets through its rocky but compelling start by the halfway mark. In time for Paige Turco’s graveyard exposition dump to be forgiven, even as O’Fallon misses they’ve dressed Turco in a Southern Gothic hooded cape thing, and he doesn’t know how to shoot for it. “Close-ups O’Fallon” is not an inappropriate nickname.

Thank goodness he’s not back directing.

Shaun Cassidy gets the script and creator credit for “Gothic.” He’s responsible for the episode’s considerable successes, though it’s all about getting it to the right actors. Just one episode in and “Gothic” has four outstanding performances. Top-billed Gary Cole’s murderous Southern sheriff, garbage human being Nick Searcy as his conflicted deputy, Sarah Paulson as the traumatized, non-verbal girl Cole murders in the third scene (which Searcy witnesses), and Lucas Black as Paulson’s little brother. Paulson has the best moment in the episode; now a spirit, she’s called Black back to their house (and her murder scene), so she can show him Cole rape their mother ten years ago, watching his own conception.

The mom’s long dead, their dad (Sonny Shroyer) cracked in the first scene and went after Paulson with a shovel—Cole was being opportunistic in killing her—and Black’s got to know the truth if there’s going to be a show.

The episode also introduces the good guys—Jake Weber as a town doctor, a Yankee moved down South to better the place, and Turco. Turco is Black’s adult cousin (we don’t get the family tree just yet) who left town when her parents mysteriously died in a fire… their bodies discovered by Cole, who must’ve been a teenager or something. Unclear at this point.

Then Brenda Bakke is Cole’s femme fatale accomplice. She’s the good girl school teacher by dawn, Southern vixen by night. Weber and Bakke are both quite good; they’re just quite good for 1995 television. They’re not transcending like the four top-tier performances.

Turco’s just okay. It’s not a great part this episode. She’s literally inserting herself into the plot, and there’s not room. She’s got some good moments, though. Unfortunately not the graveyard monologue… Five Easy Pieces it’s not.

At the start of the episode, I was more than a little concerned with the nineties Renaissance Studios mise-en-scene (i.e., brightly lighted, artless action sequences and lousy CGI), but “Gothic” comes through thanks to writing and casting. I do hope future directors are a little better with composition, establishing shots, and spotlighting performances; the cast shouldn’t have to hoist the whole thing up, regardless of their ability.