Deep Syfy

Of course, nothing makes me more impatient and glib than the news that Sci Fi is changing its name to "Syfy," reportedly to make it clear that the channel includes not just science fiction, but fantasy, the supernatural and the paranormal.

Don't scoff! Branding is important these days. Why, just the other day I was considering changing my name from Heather Havrilesky to SeaDonkia Fleur, to make it clear that I'm not just a TV critic but also a human being, a digital word artist, and a handy disposable wipe. If people see the name "Havrilesky" they might not understand every facet of what my "brand" has to offer, but if they see "SeaDonkia Fleur" they'll know that I'm a complete asshole.

Likewise with Sci Fi. The brand name "Sci Fi" is too regular and respectable and easy to understand, let's face it. But Syfy? Like a typo or a mumbled acronym for an STD or the name of an angry little dog in a scratchy pink sweater, Syfy is something we ignore for as long as we can, cringing and fighting the urge to drop-kick it back to its idiot owner. Syfy is so artless and dorky and weak, it begs to be demeaned and disrespected.

But that sounds about right, doesn't it?

Small town romance

Of course, not every show on the Channel Whose Name We Feel Dirty Using And Therefore Won't Until We're Forced To is as embarrassing as the silly notions of its reckless overlords, and not all dramedies are glib. Just look at "Eureka" (9 p.m. Friday, June 10, on Sci Fi), a show that's at once goofy and deeply earnest. "Eureka" may be a little awkward, but what it lacks in sophistication and slickness it makes up for in clumsy sweetness and pure intentions, as if "Doctor Who" wandered down to Mayberry to seek advice from Andy Griffith.

Apparently the show's writers are aware of this particular appeal: The first episode of the fourth season of "Eureka" finds former sheriff Jack Carter (Colin Ferguson) being replaced by a robot sheriff that, once it extracts itself from its own box, "Terminator"-style, dons a good-guy smile and introduces itself as "Andy." Andy is designed to be the perfect replacement for Jack: He carefully analyzes the facts, then draws logical conclusions from them.

Yes, we know where this one is going: Sticking to the facts is no way to navigate the topsy-turvy happenings in the messed-up little town of Eureka, with its population of half-crazy geniuses. The stakes are high around these parts, too: The entire world is about to end thanks to something happening in Eureka in about four out of five episodes.

Maybe this explains why the townspeople remain reasonably relaxed and happy, even when the apocalypse is imminent. When Jack's computerized house S.A.R.A.H. tries to kill the new robot sheriff, she explains herself by calmly telling Jack and his daughter, Zoe, "I apologize. I let my artificial emotions get the best of me." There's something about this optimistic mood that keeps "Eureka," in all of its cgi-aided foibles, light and enjoyable. If the show took itself too seriously, we'd chafe at its corniness.

Like Mayberry, Eureka has miles and miles and miles of heart. Even Andy the robo-sheriff chuckles amiably and shakes his head instead of getting competitive or homicidal in the face of a threat to his authority. When Jack invites him to a party after a big disappointment, he says, "I think I need to spend a little time in my box, you know, sortin' things out." You have to appreciate a town optimistic enough that even the robot cops are respectful and contemplative. Yes, the residents here are moody and sometimes envious, but they're most definitely not glib.

How do they maintain their optimism, in the face of such nonstop peril? If we could solve that mystery, we might stop wasting our time posting updates on Facebook and Twitter and step outside for some good, old-fashioned analog appreciation of time and space and people and places and other antiquated stuff like that.

Recent Stories