What’s Sweeter than Revenge? “Revenge”

Gandhi once said, “Anger and intolerance are the enemies of correct understanding.” Mahatma, pal, you had it bang on. When I think about the things I like they are, almost invariably, things I can infallibly understand: Harry Potter books, the Kardashians, M&S sandwiches. I just “get” them. My list of pet peeves is yet more evidence for Gandhi’s thesis; its almost wholly comprised of items that perplex me: BBM messaging, Derridean hypotheses about poststructuralism and Russell Brand (you claim to still love her as a person until you're blue in the face, Russell, but I’m dubious of anyone that’ll let Katy slip through their fingers). As failsafe as this proverb tends to be when it comes to my own turn ons and turn offs, though, when I caught up with new E4 show “Revenge” this morning it crumbled faster than the aforementioned Brand/Perry union itself; “Revenge” charmed me for the very reason that I did not “get” it all the time. This character is commonplace nowadays on our detective-swamped small screen, I hear you protest, but here’s the marvel of it: “Revenge” is not, strictly, a mystery. It’s overly dramatic, its glitzy, its even a smidge trashy at first, yet Monday’s pilot managed to maintain an air of secrecy, of that tantalizing and enslaving “you just don’t ‘get’ me” hook right through to the credits.

Shot down: At least one guest wasn't enjoying the party

After sitting, thus entranced, through the first episode (and admittedly since conducting a spot of post-viewing probing) I’m a little less in the dark about the show’s general premise. Boiled down (and we’re talking to the point of evaporation, here, so don’t underestimate the indefinable complexity of the series), “Revenge” sees blonde belle Emily return to a swanky area of the Hamptons she used to visit with her late father with the goal of seeking vengeance on its close-knit residents who years before framed her pop for funding terrorism and looked on as he was jailed. At the risk of unjustly bracketing the show off with other juicy-storyline laden, sparkly American shows, it’s proved a gargantuan hit in the States and has just been picked up for a second season by ABC with a view to whacking it in “Desperate Housewives’” now vacant Sunday night slot. And “unjustly” needs reiterating; my pre-blog digging led me to one site that heralded it as a contemporary take off of “The Count of Monte Cristo”, a 19^th Century French novel by Alexandre Dumas. As I said, don’t mistake the glamour for superficiality. This is a series with its head screwed on.

Monday night’s pilot relied on its format to tread the threadlike line between puzzling and alienating viewers. The episode was born with an unfathomable opening that flipped between an ostentatious soiree and a murder scene; a young woman (Emily) was at the centre of her engagement party whilst a hoody-clad gunman did in who turned out to be her fiancé, Daniel, outside. Chuck in a whole lot of meaningful eyebrow raising between Emily and a party guest, a formidable mother in law to be and two teenagers preparing to get it on out back, and you have “Revenge’s” confounding first scene. Shrewdly (and whilst sticking it to Gandhi), the show then jumped back five months to document Emily’s arrival at the Hamptons. It was this plunging, jittery rewind of time that afforded that golden edge; writers had instantaneously guaranteed a high-octane series finale and the opportunity to watch Emily’s entanglement in the community along the way. “Stick with us,” they teased, “and you’re guaranteed sex, proposals and murder before our time’s up”. The flashback signature of the show also fostered viewer investment. We knew, eventually, how things were going to go as Emily was shown arriving at the Hamptons better than even she did, and this took the first-episode danger of audiences not especially caring about new characters and gunned it down on the beach, too. Savvy.

Thorny indeed: Emily VanCamp as alter ego Emily Thorne

On paper, the show might be compared with “Hart of Dixie”, the spanking new American drama that also recently hit our shores and came under DitB fire a few weeks back. They’re both choc full with an impossibly delectable American cast and the brains behind each have enviable strings to their bows (“Hart of Dixie” being exec-produced by Josh Schwarz of “Gossip Girl” and “The O.C., and “Revenge” being the brain-child of Mike Kelley, who has worked on “One Tree Hill”). If I ever see such a sheet of paper, I’ll burn it. Whereas I was at pains to stress the lack of credibility offered by “Hart of Dixie”, “Revenge” serves up deep, believable and multifaceted characters that conjure up piquing ambivalence rather than terminal indifference. Again, much of this is down to its dazzling and bold use of flashbacks. Take Emily, for example; whilst on the surface she seemed the do-gooder daughter seeking justice for her adored dad, Monday’s tendency to propel viewers backwards in time muddied the water. A scene showing the arrest of her father sowed seeds of emotional damage amongst the otherwise unsullied expanse of self-righteousness, and the final five minutes’ shocker that Emily had done time and believed ill of her father for years herself added to her unstable, angst-ridden side (note the unsettlement of the adulthood/childhood pattern and the writers’ effort to buck expectation). As if these weren’t enough to mar Emily’s angelic act, Monday’s episode saw her come close to roughing up the local playboy who sussed out her real identity and its final flashback explained how she had gone incognito to poison Conrad Grayson (a key player in her daddy’s downfall). And what of this budding romance with Daniel Grayson: genuine or contrived? Roses really do have thorns.

Indeed, indeterminate characters in “Revenge” were ten a penny. Nolan Ross, the said playboy and sole neighbor who got to the bottom of Emily’s appearance in the Hamptons, deserves a mention here; he got precious little screen time on Monday but even this was ample enough to rustle him up a clashing and arresting character. He was dismissed by most of the community as irritating and as possessing ten times more money than sense, but the revelation that he had cofounded a lucrative business with Emily’s father hinted at a softer and more astute dimension; did he serve a surrogate-son role for his corporate partner when daughter Emily estranged herself from him? Can luck be the only reason behind his absurd bank balance? Victoria Grayson is another sticky character. Whilst she initially seemed set to become the show’s super-bitch/wicked stepmother/shallow trophy-wife extraordinaire, and another Hamptons resident responsible for the sending down of Emily’s father, her discerning that Mr Grayson was doing the dirty with close pal Lydia was kind of endearing.

The dark side: Emily's criminal past was revealed

Despite its trickery and chronologically defying style, “Revenge” didn’t skimp on sound and irrefutably solid writing. When Victoria was shown taking to the podium at her latest charity-networking event and announcing publicly the sale of Lydia’s home in the Hamptons, it was pointed and barbed without being brash. And again, as Emily was introduced to Victoria and mused, “I try to give back as much as I can”, I couldn’t fail to praise the episode’s abundance of subtly loaded one-liners. Thematically, writers seemed acutely aware of, and comfortable poking fun at, their subscription to the ostentatious American-suburb drama. Scenes showing relative paupers Jack (who we got a glimpse of earlier on as a future gunman) and Declan were sandwiched between the pomp and fizz of Victoria’s get together, but detailed by contrast sacrifice, familial love and honesty. Granted, I only “get” Karl Marx marginally more than I do Russell Brand, but the implication that heaps of dosh doesn’t equate to stable families was transparent enough even for me.

What set “Revenge” apart was its strikingly individual deployment of a back-story. Few long-running serials can go more than a couple of episodes without knocking out backgrounds for their characters and dynamics, so “Revenge” resourcefully made those backgrounds its focus. What meteorically impacted Emily’s portrayal on screen? The revelation that she had, months or years ago, been an inmate. What transformed Jack from murdering conspirator to soft-centered good guy? The flashback showing his childhood friendship with an innocent Emily. It was the comings and goings of Hamptons-past, rather than Hamptons-present, that had the biggest hand in altering viewer interpretations and predictions, and this is what most saved “Revenge” from the “Hart of Dixie”-style bashing I demonstrated last month.

One Line Wonder

Charlotte Grayson: Mum you’re too young and too pretty to be this senile.

The Fortune Telly-er

This is a bizarre one, because we know, vaguely, how things are going to wind up. Nonetheless, it’s still uncertain how family man Jack winds up shooting Daniel Grayson. I see Emily’s sinister side coming into play here, and perhaps blackmailing him to do the deed. Daniel’s sister, Charlotte, will fingers crossed get more of a look in during episodes to come- she’s at the helm of a turbulent family and her mother’s early assertion that “no one’s accusing her of being stupid” didn’t go unnoticed. Then there’s the small matter of her getting jiggy with the younger brother of her older siblings’ future murderer. Oops.