Well, we’ve come to the end of the first season of Shazam, and the series is somehow both way better and worse than I thought it would be. It isn’t at all what I expected it to be, and in many ways seems far weirder than I had ever anticipated. A big part of that is that, while Billy and Mentor have empathy in spades, and sometimes in problematic ways, the show is somewhat lacking of heart from its center. There’s general warmth between Mentor and Billy, but it isn’t at all the sappy kind of heart we’re accustomed to in kids’ shows.
Because of the lack of that emotional center, each episode totally resets the deck in terms of stakes and tone. While no episode has been super lightweight yet in its most dramatic moments, there is less consistency than you’d expect from a children’s show from this era.
That’s not to imply that there are radical shifts in tone, or maverick filmmaking techniques present. It simply means that, aside from a couple of two-parters, the only thing that really connects each episode is this roving MacGuffin that is Billy, Mentor, and their RV. They are far less a part of the plot than any main characters I can remember. Each episode would happen without their catalyst, even if, obviously, the endings would be quite different.
The other consistent in this show is the sad settings they find themselves in. Every town appears to be a broken down industrial faux-city 50 miles from interesting. In these four episodes, we see a refinery, some broken down storage sheds, the world’s jankiest zoo, and a summer camp that appears to just be a house in the mountains. Look, I’m a suburban resident, and have been most of my life, so I’m not casting judgment on these locales. The center of my town has a lot of empty storefronts and Blue Lives Matter flags, so I cannot cast a stone here. But, for a TV show that could’ve chosen, theoretically, anywhere to film, it’s odd that everything in the show feels like a sadder suburb of a sadder Bakersfield.
The first episode of this batch, “The Delinquent,” features a pre-Breaking Away/Bad News Bears Jackie Earle Haley as your standard camp kid who doesn’t want to do what he’s told. This episode features both the cheapest effect of the series – Captain Marvel “swimming at full speed” while he is clearly holding a very visible handle from a water ski set up – and one of the most impressive stunts, which is multiple shots with a real bear. We almost see Mentor merc the bear with a bow and arrow before Captain Marvel shows up, which would’ve been some shit to show a 6 year old in 1974. We also see Mentor cooking a stew of veal tripe, which takes two gross things and mixes them together. Who wouldn’t want to eat the stomach lining of a calf?
Next up is “The Braggart,” which introduces us to maybe the shittiest protagonist yet, a kid who lies 100% of the time for no good reason, and almost gets eaten by a tiger. Remember how I said that the bear stunt was impressive? Well, Captain Marvel wrestling a tiger takes the cake, even if it looks like it was relatively safe, we get his arm inside of the tiger’s mouth multiple times. I wouldn’t do that on the salary he was likely getting paid for a Saturday morning kids show. This episode partially takes place at an abandoned zoo, notable only because they make such specific note of it. Apparently, there is an abandoned zoo next to the ‘working’ zoo, so they can store some extra animals and stuff. Doesn’t that, by nature, mean that it isn’t abandoned and just part of the regular zoo?
The season wraps up on a two-parter, “The Past is Not Forever” and “The Gang’s All Here.” These episodes do the best and worst of Shazam. On one hand, they deal with a serious issue of reform, and people’s biases against those who have served prison time. On the other, Mentor and Billy try to basically stop gang violence by…well, I’m not even sure they have a plan. For as well-intentioned as these episodes are, there is such little thought put into their ‘plan’ that it just comes off as hollow.
Speaking of hollow, these episodes have by far the worst acting of the series thus far. Millie, the girlfriend of our ex-con and sister of our gang leader, basically screams every word of her dialogue in an impossibly obnoxious way, while her cardboard beau can’t muster an emotion beyond ‘slightly amused’ or ‘slightly bothered.’ Her gangleader brother looks like a sweetheart of a person trying to be tough, from his sideburns to his denim jacket, and isn’t convincing for one second.
And so, as this season concludes, I will leave you with the words of said ex-con when Billy and Mentor depart: “So long, good dudes.”
