A serial killer stalks the streets of New Gotham. Preying only on metas (hence the pretty obvious episode title), the mysterious killer uses its victim's own power against him. And the "last protégé" of Batman clearly missed a few lectures on detective work, because it takes her forever to figure out that element of the crime.
For once, we can forgive Reese his terminal stupidity, because at least this episode reveals that the general public does not know about the existence of metahumans. Strangely enough, the photogenic cop doesn't even know about Batman.
Reese gains a new partner, transferred in from Bludhaven. (Once again, firmly setting this in the same universe as Smallville; Lex Luthor had a stalker from that stupidly named city.) Written off by his old department as "Mulder, Jr." (and clearly meant to physically resemble David Duchovny), the new cop knows a heck of a lot about metahumans, and has been tracking the killer from his old stomping grounds.
Nobody believes the new guy that a parallel species hides from the light, passing themselves off as normal humans. For way too long, Reese buys into his partner's bigotry and paranoia, which could pose a problem for a man who pines for The Huntress.
Conveniently, Helena's angst from the pilot episode rears its ugly head, allowing her to indulge in an indignant bid for "a normal life." As Alfred's narration makes clear, Helena is only half metahuman, a distinction that makes no sense. We can assume that Catwoman's powers are based on Tim Burton's vision of the character, as the show strives so mightily to remind us of a Gotham City before Schumacher moved into town. If that's so, Helena is actually more powerful than her mother, making her more like one and a half metahuman.
The narration irked me last week, but this episode makes clear why they've done it. Metahumanity is a subculture, treating itself as a separate race, torn between following the ideals of Charles Xavier or Erik Lensherr. Actually, no, but surely the producers wouldn't mind if you made that assumption.
However, any comparison to X-Men beyond that vague theme would be unfair. Singer's movie masterfully showed us the situation; Helena just keeps whining about it. Until this episode takes us into a "metas only" bar, we had no idea there was a problem.
Except for that nasty business about a serial killer, life doesn't seem too tough for metas. Granted, Helena reluctantly fights crime. But as this episode proves, metas can be just as happy as janitorial service consultants. Dinah finds being a metahuman in a high school to be difficult, but Helena rightly points out that the kids have cast Dinah out because she's the new girl, not because she's really a freak.
Okay, she is really a freak, but her powers have nothing to do with it. Hellooooo, Zipper Girl?
I kid because I love. Slowly, this show is winning me over, by introducing a few elements to keep fans happy. The new bar behind a collectibles shop opens up the action in a cool way. It's run by a metahuman clearly meant to parody comic book fans; he suffers super-eideticism, remembering every sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch he encounters, but cannot remember how to spell "collectibles" correctly.
The serial killer plot actually works. His motivation makes sense, though in a circular way. Being near metahumans turns the killer into a metahuman himself; therefore, he must kill all metahumans in order to be normal. Unfortunately, he reveals his true colors a little too early in the episode, and really comes off as just plain evil instead of potentially tragic. But then, it may be years before we can accuse this show of subtlety.
Part of the problem is that actual character development tends to happen off-screen. On-screen, we only get summations of character, ham-handed overwrought speechifying. Case in point this episode: boyfriend Wade rushes Barbara into meeting his parents, who reject her because they can't see past the chair. Fair enough as an emotional subplot, except that we only hear about it after Helena accuses Barbara of not being able to understand what it's like to be different. The camera cuts away before they collapse into a weepy hug.
As for Helena herself, she can dish it out, but she sure can't take it. The writers have also accidentally developed a catch-phrase for her. After last night's episode, I can hardly wait to see her meet a panhandler, when she spits, "I won't give you a quarter. YOU HAVEN'T EARNED IT!." If the camera had held on Sheman, er, Shemar Moore for just a few seconds longer, he might have cried.
Still, the fight scenes have gotten more assured. If they seem to be ripping off high-quality action movies, it's just because they've become so common. Innovative fight choreographers are in short supply in the industry. Just be thankful that this show has a cinematographer who can actually frame action well.
Already the show has broken its major patterns, a move we should applaud. Though she raises the level of intrigue, Harley Quinn makes no appearance this week, because there was no place for her. Let's see Smallville leave out Lex. Pushing the formula in a show's third week may not seem all that innovative, but again, note that That Kryptonian Show waited months to do the same. For the Tollin/Robbins production company, it's pretty daring.
Of course, Harley returns next week. But this time, we'll be ready for her.
