This was better than I thought it would be. It looked so good and cool, on the other hand, it looked like pandering to the audience’s desire for cool. It’s a pastiche of things that are popular now; on-going mysteries, low-grade supernatural elements (as opposed to full-blown science fiction; a single oddity in an otherwise normal world), time travel, period pieces. So how much can you hope?
But Life on Mars was surprisingly good. It had a sense of being grounded, of not just playing by the numbers. And oh, sure, the numbers were played, but, maybe just because of the presence of Harvey Keitel, there was a certain gravity.
Life on Mars is the story of present-day police detective Sam Tyler (Jason O’Mara) who is hit by a car and wakes up in 1973. He is weirded out by the technology and fashion, but he also suspects he is hallucinating. We are left with the notion that in 2008 he is in a persistant vegetative state while living an alternate reality in 1973. So he’s stuck and the PVS lets him stay stuck a good long time, while potentially having a body to return to in the present. In the past, he’s finding clues to the serial killings he was working on when he had his accident, and he’s in conflict with his lieutenant (Keitel) while forming a bond with a policewoman (Gretchen Mol).
I like the period feel of this one in every way I didn’t like Swingtown. Here, the seventies are urban and gritty, the cool period objects have some wear and tear, whereas in Swingtown, the camera lingered on each can of Tab and fringed vest like they were naked boobs. The result is the 70s feel like life, not like a set.
Jason O’Mara isn’t going to win any Emmys; in one scene, he shows he’s upset by pouting. With his big ol’ pouty lower lip. But he’s passable.
Fans of the original BBC series (which I never saw) are unhappy with the show, but judged on its own merits, I think it’s pretty good, and I’ll be back next week.
