NBC's 'Constantine' packs horror, fails to deliver comedy

NBC’s newest comic-adaptation series, “Constantine,” is already ruffling feathers. The show’s titular character, John Constantine (played by Matt Ryan) comes to the small screen from the pages of DCComics’ “Hellblazer” (published regularly in various sources from 1988-1993), a series in which Constantine was openly bisexual -- or so fans surmised when Constantine was “seen getting out of bed with a man,” as NBC executive producer Daniel Ceroneput it. But this is a side of the character the network has no intention of exploring. At a press event over the summer, Cerone continued: “[Maybe] 20 years from now? But there are no immediateplans,” he reportedly said. Understandably, this announcement left loyal fans of “Hellblazer” frustrated, disappointed and disenchanted.

Already shadowed by a storm cloud or two, “Constantine” premiered last Friday with the seriespilot “Non Est Asylum.” Packed with gore and horror, the episode features a more-is-more approach tostorytelling, taking viewers on a bumpy ride.John Constantine -- exorcist, demonologist and master of the dark arts, according to his business card --begins the series as a patient at a psychiatric institution in England. Naturally, his day includes long,tempestuous talks with a psychiatrist, electroshock therapy, support group meetings and messages fromcockroaches.Soon, though, he must leave the asylum for Atlanta, Ga.

Enter: Liv Aberdine (Lucy Griffiths), the beautiful, doe-eyed damsel in distress. Liv, the daughter ofConstantine’s deceased friend, is being hunted by demons, or at least the kind of paranormal beingsConstantine is used to fighting.Through their conversations, we learn that Constantine blames himselffor the fate of an innocent, possessed girl, Astra (Bailey Tippen);she died the same night Constantinelost both of their souls to eternal damnation. Together Liv, Constantine and his companion, Chas (CharlesHalford), battle unspeakable adversaries, cause a city-wide blackout and let loose a towering pillar of fire that roars toward the sky. All in a day’s work.

The series pilot must do a lot of world-building, but already “Constantine” establishes a distinctly supernatural atmosphere and an undeniably eerie tone. Besides introducing names and faces, “Non Est Asylum” lifts the curtain on what Constantine calls “the psychic disease of the 21st century” -- a world populated bytormented spirits, hair-raising angels, clueless humans and the twisted protagonist himself. While the plot and characters are still a bit jumbled at this early stage, the dark and doom-ridden setting leaps off the screen.

Artful cinematography and daring visual effects help conjure Constantine’s universe effortlessly. In one unforgettable moment, an angel causes snowfall to stop, freezing the flakes in mid-air. Constantine carefully cups a handful of these, condensing them to dewy drops, then gives a casual flick, shattering the suspension all at once. Moments of beautiful manipulation like this contrast sharply with the show’s grislier moments: Liv’s possessed friend stares out from the shattered windshield of a hijacked van, growling like an animal, her neck bent at an impossible angle. A kindly grandmother looks up to reveal pitted black eyes and a horribly dripping mouth.

Clearly, “Constantine” isn’t afraid to shock or repulse, boldly venturing from the realm of fantastical suspense into flat-out horror. Yet this genre-specific portrayal is one of the best, and certainly most defining, elements of "Constantine” -- the edge of your seat (or chair, or bed) is a thrilling place to be. This is not to say that the pilot was an unadulterated success -- “Constantine” has some pretty fatal flaws.

For one, the show’s sense of humor feels flat. Constantine’s jokes (the episode’s only source of amusement), alternate between being self-deprecating and scathingly sarcastic, and they almost always feel out of place -- as if Ryan hasn’t decided how to deliver them yet. Awkwardly transplanted into a landscape of horrific mystery, these uncertain wise cracks leave audiences with a strange sense of comedic whip-lash. It’s too bad, because blending these two elements together would give “Constantine” the potential to be a bona fide hit. Having mastered “dark,” “Constantine” just needs to tackle the “comedy.”

The start of a seemingly traditional horror and fantasy show at heart, “Non Est Asylum” doesn’t try anything new. Like the decision to “straight-wash” Constantine for television, the meat of the pilot keeps to the straight and narrow. And with such a vivid, imaginative world with which to play, the anything-but-extraordinary plot is somewhat disappointing. “Constantine” isn’t likely to be a landmark show, but -- just in time for Halloween -- it’ll generate the most predictable (and regularly timed) goosebumps out there.