Thoughts on Part One of Childhood's End

Miniseries Opener Fails to Convince

Last night I watched the first installment of Syfy's Childhood's End, commercials and all. Based on a 1953 novel by British author Arthur C. Clarke, it tells the tale of alien Overlords who visit Earth in order to bring us peace and serenity by forcibly changing our ways, smarten us up, as it were. Well, it works and Earth is a better place for them. But there are questions as to their outward benevolence. These queries will be addressed, I'm betting, in parts two and three.

Our protagonist is a Missouri farmer named Ricky Stormgren, played by Mike Vogel. Because of his conciliatory skills, Ricky has been chosen by the Overlords as a go-between betwixt humans and aliens. He is called the "Blue Collar Prophet." Therein lies the rub. The character of Ricky Stormgren is about as blue collar as a Tesla.

Having been raised in a blue collar household in a neighborhood of cops and electricians and post office workers, I have some knowledge of things blue collar. Having worked in Hollywood and earned large in my day, I have some knowledge of the well-to-do lifestyle. (A memory now, believe me.) Was it the writing or the direction or the source material, I can't say. But Vogel comes across like a well-educated, progressive guy cast as a farmer.

I kept waiting for some explanation, like Stormgren was originally from Silver Springs, Maryland, the son of attorneys, but always had a hankering for the land. Even Stormgren's fantasies are upper income, specifically his honeymoon at the Four Seasons Hotel in New York City and the playoff tickets for an unnamed sport that he never used. Possible for a blue collar guy? Yes, but unlikely as a characteristic of blue collar life is trying to make ends meet and not always successfully. (My parents were married in Chicago and honeymooned ninety minutes away in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin for a few days, then went back to their jobs.)

Why the big fuss? Because the production wants me to believe that alien Overlords have arrived and are interfering with life on earth. In the dramatic story teller - story viewer relationship, that's the one fantastic buy-in the story teller is allowed. I agree to accept this, but the story teller should make everything around the aliens as believable as possible. If they don't, my willing suspension of disbelief refuses to be suspended. In fact, it sits on the floor with both arms wrapped around a table leg.

A yuppie farmer is like a play where you can see past the actors to the stage manager, smoking back stage and reading pornography. That said, the Overlords finally showed themselves. They look, well, different. And we shall see how matters turn out tonight and Wednesday.

I'm hoping the aliens aren't fans of Lena Dunham or read Gawker.