"Quinn and I are gonna take a spin around the universe!"
"Coming?" — Wade Welles and Quinn Mallory.
by Matt Hutaff
The idea of parallel universes has been a staple of science fiction for decades. In popular science fiction television, it's been utilized in the Star Trek universe many times, most notably in Next Generation's "Parallels" and in the original's "Mirror, Mirror." George R. R. Martin's Doorways, the failed ABC pilot which blends parallel universes and fantasy elements, however, is so mind-bogglingly bad that Sliders co-creator Tracy Tormé once commented, "when it had mercifully ended, I could truly understand why [ABC] not only didn't buy the series, but deemed the pilot so unwatchable that it never aired, even as summer fill."
So when Tracy Tormé and Robert K. Weiss decided to create a television series for FOX based solely on the concept of parallel universes, they weren't heading into uncharted waters. Fortunately, unlike Doorways, the genesis of Sliders provides a compelling story, likeable yet flawed characters, and a true appreciation of the "what if?" concept that plagues people in everyday life.
The show opens slowly and establishes the lead, Quinn Mallory (Jerry O'Connell) as a loveable, goofy San Francisco native who falls asleep reading books on hyperspace, wears clothes three days in a row and banters with his mother (Linda Henning of Petticoat Junction), who just happens to be talking to a picture of her dead husband. This isn't your typical family.
The most atypical aspect of the Mallory household is a basement crammed with scientific equipment — Tesla coils, computer banks and most impressively, a massive electromagnetic power source. This is Quinn's workshop, and he's been working on some interesting things, indeed.
Through a clever montage of video journals, the episode cuts through the mystery. Quinn's invention creates a stable wormhole. What it does and where it leads are the two biggest mysteries, and Quinn's curiosity is getting the better of him. He can't send his video camera — too much radiation — so what's the solution? He decides he will go through the wormhole on his own the next day.
Successive scenes establish Quinn's routine day as one of work and study. We are introduced to Quinn's pompous professor, Maximillian Arturo (John Rhys-Davies), a man who doubts the intellect of his own students to bolster his own insecurities. Arturo's "power tie" is especially hilarious as well as telling. Quinn ignores his mentor's instruction because he already knows the information. This Salieri/Mozart parallel appears several times in the episode.
At work, we meet Wade Welles (Sabrina Lloyd), a mousy if sweet computer salesperson who is confident talking about chip design flaws to clientele but stammers and acts like a lovesick puppy when Quinn walks in. She's bought San Jose Sharks tickets; Quinn acknowledges this by going to a computer in the backroom and starts working on formulas! Is this guy oblivious or what?
The next morning comes quickly and Quinn, with only minor hesitation, jumps wide-eyed into the swirling vortex in his basement. He lands with a flourish and finds himself... in his basement. He hasn't gone anywhere! Dejected, he hops in his car and drives towards school, and that is when things get a little screwy.
Compact discs being replaced by vinyls? Americans fleeing to Mexico? President John F. Kennedy? What the hell is going on? Quinn finds the answer with a billboard showcasing Elvis Presley in Vegas. Quickly returning home, he finds his mother pregnant with the gardener's son. And while he's still soaking all this in, a vortex opens behind him and pulls him back into his basement. He's been in a parallel universe for the past 15 minutes.
It's a lot to take in, but Quinn realizes what's happened and rushes off to school. Arturo yells at him and storms out. Classmates congratulate him on coming back. A shocked trip to work yields a Wade who's been kissed by Quinn and no job.
Just when the day couldn't get any weirder, Quinn goes down to his basement and finds himself. No, not on a metaphorical level — there's literally another Quinn in the basement. This Quinn is virtually identical to our Quinn, except for the hair and the air of cockiness about him, and he is responsible for ridiculing Arturo's theories, kissing Wade and causing Quinn to lose his job. "Computer Hell? I did you a favor," he says with casual disregard.
Alt-Quinn lays down the fundamentals to what he calls "sliding" before returning to his wife ("been married now two years!") on his parallel earth. Quinn, flush with excitement, invites Wade and Arturo over to view his triumph and maybe go for a joyride. Wade agrees and Arturo blithely states that he must in the interests of science.
At the same time, we're introduced to Rembrandt Brown (Cleavant Derricks), a washed-up singer who is driving to Candlestick Park to sing the National Anthem. Is this guy Amos or Andy? Or maybe Kingfish? Who cares — Rembrandt is hilariously jaded about celebrity, as evidenced by his clueless interpretation of the AIDS ribbons on his gold tuxedo lapel (yes, you read that right).
Rembrandt's plans are sidetracked by Quinn, though, when an overpowered vortex sucks his Cadillac along for the ride. They're all deposited on an Ice World, and when the four meet up, Rembrandt is pissed. And who wouldn't be?
The dangers of sliding arise immediately when an ice tornado bears down on Rembrandt's car, sending the four scurrying to activate the timer early. The vortex opens in a dangerous fashion that can only happen on television, and when the four exit they find themselves not in Quinn's basement, they're in Golden Gate Park.
Why? That answer becomes readily apparent to Quinn, Wade and Arturo when they find that they simply aren't home — they've landed on a parallel earth where Communist Russia conquered the United States.
Rembrandt, meanwhile, grabs a taxi and is summarily arrested and convicted of treason for paying for the fare with a regular American dollar from Earth Prime.
The other three Sliders find themselves wrapped up in your standard revolutionary plot. On Communist Earth, Wade's double is a captive general in the American uprising and Wade fills in for her. Arturo, conveniently, runs the penitentiary where this world's Wade and Rembrandt are being held. After the Sliders and the revolutionaries break into the prison and rescue their comrades (no pun intended), they re-enter Golden Gate Park and slide out.
The final sequence, which is perfectly realized, showcases just what kind of emotional resonance traveling to different worlds can have. Arturo's speech on the dangers of sliding, Rembrandt's thoughts of gospel music, Quinn's overwhelming enthusiasm... all leading to a crushing conclusion where they realize that their journey is far from over.
The Pilot does what it needs to do and it does it very effectively. The characters are all well-defined; Arturo's jealousy of Quinn really stands out, not only in dialogue but in subtle mannerisms. Quinn comes across as the shy genius we see in high school from time to time, working on doodles that we can never understand but are nonetheless meaningful to him. While Rembrandt's "aw shucks" dialogue is at times irritating, he really does represent the everyman and his utter shock and confusion to the events around him are real. Wade gets the lightest treatment; yeah, we know she likes Quinn, but what else is there? She's a pretty girl; why dress her in such a dumpy outfit?
Likewise, is the relationship between her and Quinn going to develop? If it does, I hope it's handled well, because if it isn't, we'll get 90210-esque breakups, misunderstandings and reunions. Don't get me wrong, the two have chemistry, but I'd rather see the show develop its own identity before they push love on us. Especially since the very nature of their transient lifestyle doesn't seem like the right way to form a relationship.
I also have a few reservations about the use of doubles if they continue in the context of the pilot. Quinn's doppelganger is perfectly utilized because he's just as big a genius as the Quinn we follow, he just has a bit of an attitude. But Wade as a revolutionary mastermind and Arturo as her evil nemesis? Who in their right mind would believe that Arturo would embrace communism, let alone accept that a computer store clerk would lead a bunch of burly troops into some unseen battlefield? It doesn't materialize organically for Wade since we know her the least; Arturo's line, "always a leader of men, no matter what the circumstances" smacks of the writer trying to shoehorn the principals into a lucky situation.
The biggest problem I had with the story was the Ice World. Why, under any circumstance, would the four of them choose to freeze their asses off in Rembrandt's convertible Cadillac when there is a house 20 feet away? Why choose to potentially ruin the sliding device by activating early instead of taking shelter in said house? It survived nuclear winter, I think it can take a strong wind. I understand the need to move the plot along, but have the tornado destroy the house, don't have it float over the Golden Gate Bridge because it looks pretty.
Fortunately, those minor issues aside, the Pilot really hits the nail on the head in dark satire and parallel culture development. Communist World's "People's Court" scene is one of the funniest moments in television, particularly for a primarily sci-fi show, and the awe and wonder of the discovery of sliding is handled very well. And the doubles of the secondary characters — the cab driver, the bum, shyster lawyer Ross J. Kelley and the computer store boss all work really well. The use of doubles is exciting in a show; I hope they use this ability well and don't mischaracterize people in the future like Wade and Arturo's doubles were.
Visually, the Pilot is a treat. Vancouver serves as a wonderful stand-in for San Francisco, and the cross-cut scenes filmed in San Francisco really give a sense of location. The production values for the locations are high, and the SFX used to generate the wormhole look gorgeous; when Quinn walks slowly around the thing in his basement, you can't help but wonder at the marvel of it all. Musically, Dennis McCarthy adds to the visual elements with his superb score. He's done a lot of stellar work on the Star Trek series, so he's hardly out of his element.
So, despite minor plotting problems, Sliders is off to a rip-roaring start. I can't wait to see what they can do with this concept.




