MasterSnee (Home) Theater: 'Reaper'

Chugs is out with the measles this week, so I'm filling in. I decided to approach from a different angle, though. I hate movie theaters; the crowds, the sticky floors, the Mormon "Foundation for a Better Life" commercials and the crappy movies have left my fiancé and I bunkered down in our living room like Adolf and Eva. The screen and sound always work, the food's cheaper and tastes like actual periodic elements and television is actually improving.

Now that reality television has finally hit rock bottom (Flava Flav? Really?), the networks we've come to loathe are premiering quality scripted shows again. Well, except CBS, which still hasn't recovered since Nash Bridges ended. Or ABC, which still believes TGIF was its greatest contribution to American society. Or NBC. Fox is still "eh": no longer the maverick network of the 80s and 90s, they rely too heavily on their established cartoon staples, which haven't been novel in at least three years.

No, network television has only two balls in its sack these days: FX and the CW. The Guys are huge fans of FX's Rescue Me and are known for singing the Von Bondies sober or blacked-out. The other network, CW, launched Kevin Smith's new television series on Tuesday, Reaper.

Kevin Smith has always been one of my personal heroes, so I had no problem ignoring House to catch this pilot episode. Since seeing it, I've released just how stale House and other medically-themed TV shows have become since ER. Scrubs is the crowning achievement in medical dramedys, so any further attempts in the genre merely piss in the wind.

That said, Reaper is Smith's first truly viable project without the Jasons Mewes and Lee. Where Jersey Girl had heart, this pilot has life. It is a departure from the View Askewneverse that ventures just far enough away to not seem as contrived or sappy.

Don't get me wrong--there are the typical Smith slacker archetypes that populated my favorites of his films.

The main character, Sam Oliver (Bret Harrison), is the slacker that moved back in with his parents after failing his only semester at college because it "made him sleepy." This lack of ambition causes him to work at his high school job, a chain hardware store inspired by Lowes and Home Depot.

Side note: Bret Harrison looks disturbingly like another Affleck brother.

He works there with his slacker best friend, "Sock" Wysoki (Tyler Labine), who is 25, also lives with his parents and doesn't care what he does so long as it's with Sam. Unlike Brodie or Randall, Sock doesn't "wax intellectual." Instead, he's working retail because it may be his only marketable skillset, though he even fails at that: on a sales chart, he scores the Bluto Blutarsky "zero point zero." In fact, that's probably the best comparison to other ficitional works: he's a coarse, talking Bluto. Or Jack Black, minus the rigga-doo-doos.

Sam's love interest, Andi (Missy Peregrym), works there, too, but--like all of Smith's other female characters--is going to college so that she doesn't work the retail floor for the rest of her life. Unlike Veronica, she has yet to pressure Sam into attending classes with her, though she takes umbrage as easily as Brandy Svenning.

Surprisingly, the slacker supporting character isn't Walt Flanagan or Willem (a.k.a. Snowball), but co-worker Ben, who is played by Old School alum Rick Gonzalez.

So, the pre-existing set-up is similar to Clerks, but the plot is the anti-thesis to Dogma. Unlike Bethany's mission as the decendent of Christ to prevent two rogue angels from proving God wrong, Sam is charged by the Devil (Ray Wise) to recover fugitive souls from Hell. Why Sam? Because his parents sold his soul to Lucifer before he was even born.

This pilot is the quintessential origin story of the demonbuster, Sam, who even uses a Hell-engineered dust buster to collect the combative souls. It's less cumbersome than proton packs and ecto-traps, and it postpones the eventual lawsuit from Ivan Reitman. He discovers his newfound career and accompanying hellish mental powers on his 21st birthday, at which point he is no longer his parents' ward and, therefore, accountable to the Desolate One.

But since this is a comedy, Sam doesn't just have to learn to kick demon ass, but how his new job and powers affect his daily life: the mundane acts of drinking, flirting and employment that action movies and dramas either gloss over or completely ignore. (Seriously, when was the last time the Superman franchise explained how Clark Kent writes news stories when Superman is busy saving the entire world? Or how Bruce Wayne manages the multi-billion dollar Wayne industries or romances women other than by buying things and revealing his secret identity?) As Sam learns to control his abilities, Sock hilariously throws heavy objects at him to test his telekinesis. It's a lot less emo than Joss Whedon's Buffy, who routinely falls in love with vampires and then whines about not finding nice men who can go to the beach.

As with any Kevin Smith endeavor, there is more to read between the lines than, "Sam sends a demon back to Hell with hiiiiiiiilarious results." Sam must also wrestle with moral issues, such as whether it is okay to work for Satan if you're making the world a better place. (FDR would say yes.) In the Peter Parker sense, he also wants to start a relationship with girl-next-door Andi, but his hazardous work already imperils Ben and Sock when they tag along. And finally, he has to decide who is responsible for his current metaphysical status: his parents, who sold his soul, or himself for not pursuing more meaning in his life in the first place.

The Devil simultaneously simplifies and compounds his situation. On the one hand, he's willing to help Sam find meaning in his existence with an important job, but on the other, he does not tolerate failure, which threatens Sam's mother with burning in Hell. He's the conspirator and the tempter in that he know what Sam and the audience want and readily supplies it, yet he also holds all the strings and can withold it at will. The Devil, in this incarnation, is the Miltonian picaresque tragic hero, but with the flair of Lord Byron's Don Juan. Sure, he's evil, but he's also extremely likable, just like that guy in high school that was always on probation.

And finally, there's the social commentary that is inevitable whenever Smith mixes the metaphysical with the physical world. Among the rules that define this universe is that "any place that seems like Hell on Earth, is," which is where captured souls are desposited (e.g., the DMV). Also, some people deserve eternal punishment for their crimes while living, though the very institution that punishes them also encourages them to act out in the first place (e.g., governments warring against terrorist organizations they armed only a few decades before).

But enough with the high-falutin' analysis that proves I have a degree. Reaper is Kevin Smith's chance to really explore new characters without too much fan service. Its similarities and differences from his past work will be interesting to watch over the next 12 episodes, and since it's not on ABC, we should be able to see all of them without buying a DVD collection. It airs Tuesdays at 9 pm eastern/8 pm central on your local CW affiliate.