"it was the best of times, it was the worst of times..." began a tale of two cities, holding tightly within the first lines a sense of moment, of bated thrill, and a feeling something huge was about to happen. when i see episode one, there is that extraordinary intensity, like a dam about to burst, and a stunning grandeur, nothing about it feels ordinary, especially once you hear the helicopter's sound, then long legs unfold and a man climbs out and stands with his feet planted slightly apart looking up at an old mansion. a feeling that terrible things have happened assails you... you want that inert gaze to come out of whichever hell it is in. he begins to walk toward the mansion... dark and dangerous. pink and green and talkative and happy, she races toward him on her blue scooter with milk cans clanging on either side. this could have been a sweet and predictable love story... but something in the look on that man's face, his stillness, his walk... tells you that can never be... there's never been a story quite like this.
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