Dollhouse
Season One Review
In Joss Whedon’s fourth foray into network television—the
FOX drama Dollhouse—actress
Eliza Dushku portrays Echo, an “active” employed by an illicit
underground organization that deals in human fantasy. The Dollhouse,
as the organization is known, has perfected mind-replacement technology
which enables it to “program” people to be anyone, without
any memories of who they were before. During the course of Season One,
however, the technology is revealed to be not as clear-cut as advertised,
for remnants of past imprints (as they are called) linger in Echo, while
another active—the murderous Alpha—has been able to retain
all previous personas and escape the Dollhouse. Add an FBI agent intent
on finding both Echo and the Dollhouse
into the mix, and one has a combination
of adventure, drama and intrigue, with a fair share of kick-ass fights
and requisite sex thrown for good measure.
In a sense,
Dollhouse is about high-end prostitution taken to the next
level—not only are “bodies” sold, but minds as well.
Fantasies can be acted out not simply through the use of role-playing
or pretend, but for real. Human beings literally become whoever one
wants them to be. While such a premise opens up many moral issues about
society, as well as philosophical questions of identity, Whedon clouds
these issues through the numerous characters that populate the Dollhouse
landscape. Rather than having a clear-cut “good guy” outsider
battling the “bad guy” insiders, these characters instead
wage the central issues themselves, internally, through their own individual
and complex natures.
Paul Ballard
(Tahmoh Penikett), the FBI agent assigned to investigate the Dollhouse,
is an obvious example. Recently divorced with the reputation of not
being a “closer” as a law enforcement officer, it is hinted
that he has been given his current task as a polite way to not dismiss
him from the force. His unwavering pursuit of what is perceived by many
to be a myth is thus a form of therapeutic redemption for him that turns
into obsession whenever he mysteriously receives a picture of a woman
named Caroline, i.e., the real life Echo. This obsession, coupled with
his internal demons, makes his motives (which, by season end, appear
even murkier than originally thought) questionable and prevent him from
being the true hero of the narrative.
Even more
clouded are the natures of those who work for the Dollhouse. Boyd Langton
(Harry Lennix) is a former cop hired to be Echo’s “handler,”
a sort of protector for when the active is out on an “engagement.”
Although he has no qualms about working for such an illicit organization,
he still exhibits doubts regarding the ethics of the Dollhouse while
also establishing a father-like bond with Echo. Topher (Fran Kranz),
the boy-genius in charge of the technology, appears both cynical and
egocentric yet is also capable of emotionally feeling the consequences
of his actions whenever they turn dire. And while head honcho Adelle
DeWitt (Olivia Williams) publicly spouts the “we provide a valuable
service” party line to perfection, she privately exhibits doubts
about the ideology she so obviously once believed in.
Thus although
Echo maybe be considered the main character of the series, it is the
Ballards, Boyds, DeWitts and Tophers of the show that provide the emotional
cohesiveness. Echo, after all, is a different “person” each
week, preventing any true investment in the character. While her slow
awakening and awareness of the Caroline that resides within is essential
to the overall arc of the series, ultimately Echo is best utilized as
a catalyst for the other characters to act and react.
Such an
assessment is even more evident when Dollhouse is viewed as
two separate parts rather than one coherent season. Despite a stated
faith by FOX executives in Whedon’s abilities as a storyteller—as
well as the network’s mishandling of a previous Whedon series,
the cult favorite Firefly—Dollhouse got off
to a rocky start when the two sides had different visions for the show.
FOX wanted a more stand-alone procedural, while the series creator wanted
to take a more serial approach. The first handful of episodes were thus
a creative tug-of-war before the proper balance between the differing
viewpoints could be found.
From the
pilot episode, “Ghost,” through the fifth, “True Believer,”
the plotlines center on Echo and her assignments as an active. While
many of them are entertaining enough, the emotional investment needed
by viewers, especially from a show that has such an ambitious and complex
premise, is severely lacking. Whedon was still able to throw in little
snippets around the episode edges, however, that hint at the potential
of the series. This may have actually benefited Dollhouse in
the long run as it allowed the main focus of the show to simmer along
those edges as opposed to boiling over right from the start. Thus while
Echo is out negotiating a hostage situation or playing bodyguard to
a spoiled pop singer or infiltrating a religious cult, we still get
to see glimpses of what is to come, from a slow awakening on Echo’s
part to Boyd’s sympathetic nature to the seeming futility (and
obsession) of Paul Ballard’s quest. Taken together, these elements
laid the groundwork for the show’s “game-changing”
sixth episode, “Man on the Street.”
While not
necessarily the best episode of Dollhouse, “Man on the
Street” certainly gave the series focus and kick-started a second
half to the season more along the lines of what one has come to expect
from a Joss Whedon show: meaningful characters, great writing and witty
dialogue, as well an exploration of society and what exactly it means
to be human. While all of those qualities are evident in his past shows
(Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Firefly),
Dollhouse evolved from its rocky start to embody these traits
in ways the previous shows never could. What better way, after all,
to explore “what it means to be human” than by taking away
what most makes us human: our individuality, our personality, the very
core of our identity.
Season
one of Dollhouse has its fair share of hits and misses, strike
outs and home runs, but is still able to entice and challenge—and
at times even repulse—on an intellectual level few other shows
have ever attempted to achieve. As Time Magazine’s Tuned
In blogger James Poniewozik wrote, “I’ll
take a show that swings for the fences and is occasionally amazing over
one that is reliably satisfying any day.”
