Found By: jess99@ptd.net

Alien teens right at home on the WB

By Alex Beam, Globe Columnist, 12/01/99

Every year I fall in love with one new television show. A while back, it was
ABC's sanctimonious but energetic "Nothing Sacred," about an inner-city
priest. Last year, it was "L.A. Doctors," a glossy, high-concept medical
drama; to paraphrase the master of ceremonies in "Cabaret" - even the cancer
patients were beautiful! This year, it's "Roswell," the WB network's
experiment in creative miscegenation, as in "X-Files" meets "Dawson's
Creek."

Roswell, N.M., is the famous, purported landing site of an alien spacecraft
in 1947. Hollywood marketers know that place names like Area 51 - another
UFO hot spot, featured in the movie "Independence Day" - and Roswell have
entered the youth lexicon. The show's premise, borrowed from a series of
young adult novels by Melinda Metz is: Suppose there were descendants of
alien spawn attending high school in Roswell?

Only on American television, you say. But "Roswell" surprises, in mostly
good ways. "When you first describe the show, people chuckle," admits Jason
Katims, the co-executive producer. "Usually, they think it's something more
farcical than what we've been trying to do. We play it real, and we play it
true." There are no distended green heads, or waist-high "grays" running
around the set. Apart from a hankering for Tabasco sauce - "It's a dietary
quirk," one explains - the three nominal aliens, Max Evans, his sister
Isabel, and their friend Michael Guerin, look and act more or less like the
kids next door.

That they are not your run-of-the-mill 4-H Clubbers became apparent in the
opening episode, when Max healed the drop-dead gorgeous Liz of an accidental
bullet wound incurred at the local watering hole, the Crashdown Cafe. Now
Liz and her waitress pal Maria know the threesome's secret - and you know
how hard it is to keep a secret in high school!

Alien cornball? Of course. But "Roswell" has many saving graces. For one
thing, it doesn't take itself too seriously. Max, Isabel, and Michael have
mysterious powers, but no one's really sure what they are. Max can jimmy a
Coke machine and cure bullet wounds; Isabel can hold a CD up to her ear and
hear music (cool!), and dry-clean a blouse with her bare hand. But bad boy
Michael apparently wasn't paying attention at Hogwarts' Spells & Divinations
class, because when his Volkswagen breaks down, his intervention causes the
engine to blow up.

Katims and his collaborator, former "X-Files" director David Nutter, have
plenty of fun with the scripts. Maria, who is sweetening on the surly,
otherwordly Michael, gets to say: "I didn't realize there was this whole
other side to you." Brendan Fehr, who plays Michael, is a dead ringer for
"X-Files" star David Duchovny. And in the villainous Ms. Topolsky, the FBI
agent working undercover as a guidance counselor (!), X-fans immediately
recognize an homage to Marita Covarrubias, the nefarious Uniblonder.

Sure, the show has a few soft spots. The obligatory Native American flying
saucer/spirit quest episode proved a bit much for me. And the young cast
generally performs like graduates from the Keanu Reeves Acting School. But
given that my home recently hosted what we believe to be the first Keanu
Reeves Film Festival, that's not quite the insult it seems.

The show has been blessed with some success. WB has committed to 22
segments, a lot for a rookie outing, and it seems to be holding most of the
spillover audience from the popular teen soap opera "Dawson's Creek" that it
follows. Both air tonight, if you want to broaden your cultural horizon.

In a telephone interview, Katims wants to unpack lots of heavy baggage about
"Roswell'" as a metaphor for adolescence. But I just want to know one thing:
Are the soulful Max and honor -student Liz ever going to be more than just
friends? Apparently not. "It's a great Romeo and Juliet romance," Katims
says. "In this story, they can't be together because they're alien life
forms."

As for the profound message, I think I get it. Teenage aliens are a lot like
regular teens - or is it the other way around?

Alex Beam's e-dress is beam@globe.com.