Heroes Needs a Savior

Beyond the season premiere, Heroes feels like it has already begun its long slide into the sea. I can best describe it as a tedious journey in which the destination is another quantum plot development with no art in the storytelling.

As season two lurched from one twist to another like some twitching, lobotomized monster, it reminded me of why the Charlie-Hiro arc distilled so much of what made season one triumphant. There are two reasons.

1. Creator Tim Kring commented that Heroes doesn't necessarily do romance well, but there was some gestation of romance between Charlie and Hiro that made for a compelling story. Charlie was a rather sheltered woman who through her power could bridge a large gulf with a man who was probably even more innocent than she was. There was a connection in the dichotomy of homegrown Texan and Japanese man who wanted to become a hero but didn't necessarily understand the ramifications of his responsibility, and seeing them connect through the use of language showed an awareness of good writing. Ironically, Tim Kring himself wrote that episode.

2. The powers were as much a statement on the limits of a character. When Hiro found himself powerless to stop Charlie's death, it was much better than something contrived like in season two when Peter had his identity taken away through amnesia. I liked the show a lot better when Peter helped those around him understand their powers even as he struggled to understand his. That was one of the most effective storylines throughout the first season: as Peter contemplates whether he has powers and what they could be, even as Nathan discovers and discards his, and eventually tries to control them before they destroy him, he always embraces them.

Some of the greatest authors of the 20th century - Stephen King, David Foster Wallace, Kurt Vonnegut - have likened a story to controlled chaos. In other words, a story once set in motion must play itself out in the evocation of sincerity and an organic bloom. In the opening episodes of season three, Hiro transports himself not to the future but to a time and to a destination where the writers want him to procure the intended information, setting off a chain of improbable events. Mohinder's storyline is given no time to marinate before he injects himself, and so the great thing about Heroes, the pacing and the discovery of its mythology, is rendered inert. It seems so manufactured and contrived, and I wouldn't be surprised if viewers continue to jump ship as Heroes treads water. This is not good news for NBC, who is desperately seeking a moratorium for sinking ratings and who probably won't receive one from the influx of freshman shows into the fall lineup. They banked a lot on Heroes and need the convalescence that Kring promised.