There's always a measure of wish fulfillment in characters like Faith (the name alone tells us a lot), whose stories begin as they molt off their past and soar to new heights of possibility. This is the dullest kind of story; it's much more fun to watch a puffin take off than an eagle, and even better to watch it stumble on the landing. Bicks has compared "Leap of Faith" to "The Mary Tyler Moore Show," and discussed Faith's story in terms of "one girl's journey." Among the many differences between Moore's Mary Richards and Paulson's Faith, however, is the fact that Mary moved to Minneapolis after the man she had just finished putting through medical school dumped her. Faith, on the other hand, dispatches her fianci by -- bonus! -- sleeping with an impossibly cute actor who shows no sign of being vain, moronic or a self-centered psychopath. (Where? In New York? In Burbank?) Faith, in other words, is not all that messed up. And what kind of girl these days is not all that messed up?

There are real problems, and then there are TV problems; Faith seems to be plagued by the latter. While Ellie's boyfriend, Ben (Darren Boyd), for example, is cute, charming, sweet and a whole mess of big (married) trouble, Faith's fianci (Bradley White) is a cartoonish anti-marriage poster, controlling, condescending and dull. The real question -- so far unanswered -- is not why Faith dumped this guy, but why she went out with him in the first place, and got as far as picking out china patterns at Bergdorf and making it to the bridal shower. (Which is attended, as is the custom in TV Land, by a group of people who look as though they've just met, yet react in gasping, gaping unison to the main character's zany pronouncements.) While dispensing with the usual sitcom constraints, "Leap of Faith" seems somewhat reluctant to chuck the usual conventions, so it feels off-center yet somehow familiar.

As on "Sex and the City," Faith is surrounded by the requisite tight-knit group of friends, who seem to be little more than an assortment of broad personality traits. They're an implausibly sundry group with no discernible chemistry, and until they start revealing some major shared dysfunction, they're going to be sadly reminiscent of "The View." Patty (Lisa Edelstein) is an embarrassingly desperate art director given to constant sex talk; Cynthia (Regina King) is a "no-nonsense" married black neighbor who "practically runs" Calvin Klein; and Andy (Ken Marino), who works as a reporter for Rolling Stone, is Faith's best friend from college, and disappointingly straight. It's all very glamorous (sort of, except for the Rolling Stone writer), and as a result, "Leap of Faith" looks just like real life, as played on TV.

In the opening scene of the pilot for "Watching Ellie," our heroine sits in front of the mirror, practicing appropriately charming, offhand directives to her band. Then, for reasons that are never explained, she starts to cry. Compare this with the opening scene of "Leap of Faith," in which Faith and her four friends sit around a table at an outdoor cafi, mechanically tossing off zingers.

Patty: "Here's to Faith. And her last martini as a single girl."

Faith: "Hey, I have two more weeks. Trust me, there will be more martinis."

Andy to Patty: "Do you realize this may make us the last single people on Earth?"

Patty, right back at Andy: "I'm still not sleeping with you."

"Watching Ellie" takes place in Los Angeles, where all sitcoms are shot, but very few are set. (After so many New York-set shows, Los Angeles feels like the last great frontier in TV's urban renewal plan.) Specifically, Ellie lives in a typical Los Feliz area one-bedroom -- complete with charming '30s details, an incongruously hideous carpeted hallway and shabby elevator -- that creates the distinct feeling in the viewer of having gone to college with one of its residents.

"Leap of Faith," on the other hand, is shot on a stage that doesn't say New York as much as it says "Friends" without a laugh track. It might not be fair, or even interesting, to point out differences in the characters' standards of living. After all, Faith is a successful copywriter, and can presumably afford a big apartment. But unlike Ellie's problems, which are myriad and complex, Faith's seem to be neatly cordoned off from the rest of her otherwise happy-go-lucky and serene life.

Despite the show's flaws, it would be too bad to see "Leap of Faith" perform the same disappearing act as other recent NBC comedies that have inhabited the death zone following "Friends." Part of the difficulty in getting an ensemble comedy off the ground may lie in having to develop so many characters at once. Maybe, as time goes by, the reasons for the existence of characters such as Andy will become more apparent. (Or maybe Andy will conveniently start spending a lot of time on assignment, say, in L.A.) Mainly, it would be a shame to see the innovative baby thrown out with the formulaic bathwater. In the second episode, Faith deals with the humiliation of running into her former fianci with another woman. If story lines like these continue, and the standard sitcom clichis (like the hot coffee boy who looks like a soap star and is in and out of Patty's life in a single episode) are dropped, there may be hope for Faith after all.

Ellie, on the other hand, seems poised to follow in the footsteps of Elaine and Lucy. This girl is her problems. Rushing on her way to work after having been waylaid by an overflowing toilet and her infatuated Swedish super, Ingvar (Peter Stormare), she is chased down the street by her hilariously insufferable ex, Edgar (Steve Carell). Edgar has spotted her from a hair salon, and bolts outside with tin foil in his hair to tell her that his assistant has invited her to his birthday party by accident. Ellie calls him a horse's ass, to which he responds coolly, "Hey you're the one that went out with me for six months." Then he says he'll give her a call.

Maybe it's just me, but that's how normal people act, right?

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