Felicity: Pilot (1.1)

Felicity is probably the one series in the history of television more famous for its hair than anything else. For modern audiences going in blind, including myself, it's the one strange point of reference that has kept the show somewhat relevant to this day. That and the fact that it's regarded as "that old J.J. Abrams show", or the one that he got so bored of that he came up with the anti-Felicity in the form of the college-gal spy series Alias. But going into it with these scant preconceptions ("Hair? Seriously?") actually makes this pilot a genuine surprise -- a tender, small-scale drama about a girl going to the big city and growing up.

It helps that Keri Russell's titular college freshman is aware of her own failings. As the show opens, she's a high school graduate hopelessly infatuated with popular himbo Ben Covington, played with dreamy lunkheadedness by Scott Speedman, though they've never actually had a real conversation. Until he writes a heartfelt yearbook message for her, enough to encourage her to tail him to Manhattan and enroll in the same college, going against her parents' wishes in the process. Shortly after does she thankfully realize she's basing huge life decisions on a guy she barely knows, who doesn't seem all that into her anyway.

It's a frustrating premise to hinge so much of the show upon, but J.J. Abrams' TV debut doesn't falter as much as its potentially regressive premise seems to indicate. Felicity Porter herself is navigating young adulthood, doing stupid things and trying to figure out her own emotions all by herself for the very first time. She's a captivating lead, somebody strong enough to recognize her faults and realize the importance of making them, if only to evolve as a result. It's an idea that meshes well with the show's college setting. Unlike so many of Felicity's WB contemporaries, this is a teen drama opening up with its foot already stepping into a wider, more adult world, instead of having its protagonists experience high school problems up until its third or fourth season.

New York is an easy representation of that adult world, something so large and intimidating, director Matt Reeves frequently photographing Keri Russell drowned out in swarms of metropolitan crowds, a somewhat directionless young woman engulfed in a city wherein its easy to find yourself lost. To nicely contrast the scope of the city and the terror of moving out on your own, Abrams keeps a lot of the drama small and intimate. The cast is low-key and smoothly introduced, Amy Jo Johnson's Julie a flawed opportunist trying to balance out her own desires with the desires of her new best friend, and Scott Foley endearingly nerdy as Noel, the perpetual 'other guy', the one so obviously pining over the pretty girl but so casually passed over time and again.

There's also a nice rhythm to the show's dramatic stakes. Abrams avoids bombarding his audience with plot (a welcome reminder of Felicity's '90s pedigree), instead making his pilot all about choice: whether Felicity should stay in New York or transfer to Stanford, and if her ultimate choice is dictated by her own passion or the romantic longing for another. It's an adult idea, one just as absorbing as it is sympathetic. I've think we've all pretty much been there. Finally, the framing device involving Felicity corresponding with her old French tutor over cassette tape is particularly strong in its lyricism, Janeane Garofalo's melancholic tones adding this quiet tenderness to an already poignant hour.

Felicity doesn't strike you as the loudest of shows, but beautifully works on its own terms in spite of that. It's a genuine surprise, and I hope the rest of the series maintains its sense of understated melodrama. A

Credits
Guest stars William Monaghan (Professor Rogalsky); Darnell Williams (John Papaleno); Erich Anderson (Edward Porter); Eve Gordon (Barbara Porter)
Writer J.J. Abrams Director Matt Reeves