Michael Suarez
I was the same age as the characters in Roswell when it premiered on October 6, 1999, on the WB. The network was a big deal for a lot of young people in 1999, along with other iconic and mainstream stuff like MTV’s Total Request Live. There were movies of all genres featuring actors from WB shows like Dawson’s Creek, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Felicity. Whether the actors playing the young people in these shows weren’t always young in the general sense was irrelevant. Fans embraced them.
Like the artists and groups spotlighted in a show like Total Request Live, the actors transcended who they actually were. They became icons for that very audience. Even though someone could very well know the names of the actors on a show like Roswell, to viewers they were their characters. Max Evans wasn’t Jason Behr, the actor. He was Max Evans. As such, it’s easy to say that a network like the WB at the turn of the century was not home to shows that were more than what they looked like on the surface.
Yes, these shows had a lot of young, attractive people on them, but these shows also had more to them than just that superficiality. For the more part, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, then and now, seems to be the series that was able to transcend such criticism. I’m not ignoring the love the first season of Felicity received or even the Buffy spinoff Angel, but I remember living through that time. And as much as these shows were loved, they were also the butt of jokes. It’s a shame.
Roswell was a series with some interesting and, at times, great episodes. It was based on a young adult book series called Roswell High by author Melina Metz, and Jason Katims (Friday Night Lights) was the showrunner. Not only that but in Season 2, Ronald D. Moore joined as a staff writer and eventual co-showrunner, penning the series finale. Sure, the show suffered from its 22-episode season structure, with episodes that don’t do much or aren’t very good. Still, overall, the series deserves more recognition, specifically its first episode.
The “Pilot” to Roswell is one the best for any series. It’s so good that it was inevitable that the show itself rarely reached that peak. To me, a pilot should achieve three things:
1) Introduce the set-up for the series
2) Introduce the main characters
and 3) Give a reason for viewers to keep watching.
The first episode of Roswell does all three successfully.
In the opening scene, we meet most of the main players and quickly get to the crux of the show’s main ideas. We meet Liz Parker and her best friend Maria DeLuca. They’re waitresses at the Crashdown, a Roswell/alien-themed diner that I would absolutely visit if it were real. After two patrons get into an argument, Liz is shot. Max has zero hesitation about what he does next, even if the guy he’s with, Michael, seems to have some reservations.
Max rushes over and saves Liz’s life by removing the bullet and healing her wound. He tells her to not tell anyone and leaves before the police arrive. Liz watches him and Michael run out of the diner and drive away, a look of shock on her face. It’s quite the opening.
Right away, we’re given a few relationship dynamics. There’s Liz and Maria. There’s Max and, who we’ll come to find out, his brother Michael. Max clearly has a thing for Liz before he saves her life, and Maria even picks it up. Liz’s response is that Max is too good for her. She tells Maria, “That is so in your imagination. Max Evan. This?” She points to her face on that last part, as if Shiri Appleby isn’t one the prettiest brunettes to have ever graced the TV screen.
We also get a quick slice of life for Liz and Maria, dealing with regulars, tourists, and the aforementioned patrons who nearly kill Liz. Finally, the show does not bury the lead with Max. He’s clearly special, and given the show is called Roswell, takes place in Roswell, and aliens are talked about within the first few minutes, it’s safe to say he’s an alien. It’s a lot for just the opening to the first episode. However, it doesn’t feel fast-paced or rushed. None of this episode feels rushed, even though a lot is accomplished in the remaining 35+ minutes.
After the credits, we follow the aftermath, not so much plot-wise but through the individual main characters. We meet Sheriff Jim Valenti, who looks to be the show’s antagonist (and is throughout the first season), his son Kyle (who is dating Liz), Isabel (Max’s sister), and Alex (Liz and Maria’s friend).
Sheriff Valenti is suspicious of what happened, and we’re told it’s because his own father supposedly witnessed something alien decades ago which destroyed his credibility. It seems there are two kinds of fear in Valenti. One, he’s worried about ending up like his father, and two, he’s worried about these aliens who seem to be walking among us. What do they want? Because so what if Max saved Liz’s life? Why is he keeping who he is a secret? Just what the heck is going on?
Isabelle is one of those voice of reason characters, but she’s a solid foil for both Max and Michael who see things differently. Max and Isabelle were raised by kind parents in a middle-class household. Meanwhile, Michael is with a foster dad who doesn’t love him and “keeps [him] around for the monthly check.” It makes sense that even as Max wants to keep who he is a secret, he has trust in humans, while Michael wouldn’t, given his upbringing. All of this in the episode’s first half, and again, nothing feels rushed.
So far, we’ve been given the general set-up for the show. Max, Michael, and Isabel are aliens and are determined to keep it a secret. Max’s feelings for Liz might very well disrupt that. And Sheriff Valenti is determined to out them, as well as figure out what they’re up to. In 1999, and now as I revisited the “Pilot” for the first time in years, it’s clear that this was enough to keep me watching, at least for the next episode.
But by the episode’s end, Liz makes a decision to help Max, Michael, and Isabel. She tells Maria the truth about those three (and her reaction is quite a bit bigger than Liz’s), and she uses – yes, uses – Alex and Kyle to enact her plan to through of Valenti’s suspicion of Max. I can’t honestly say it fully works, but it does seem to slow the sheriff down enough to keep the show going. The final scene – a personal favorite set to Dave Matthews Band’s “Crash into Me” – doesn’t have Liz and Max kiss, but it does pay off the opening scene. Max has always felt something for her. Liz has always noticed Max. Now, they’re linked, and I don’t know, even if a teen romance is not the most original thing in the world, it works for me. I rooted for Max and Liz, and I root for them now.
By the end of the first episode, Roswell accomplished all three things a pilot should accomplish. It introduces the main players and central set-up, and it gives us a reason to come back. It’s well-acted and for all its late-90s cheesiness, it’s a pretty grounded show; at least during the “Pilot.”
It was directed by veteran TV director David Nutter, who has directed an episode of your favorite genre show, I promise you. He has a lot of credits for pilot episodes, too, and with Roswell as an example, it’s easy to see why. Directing a TV show must be a challenge. One doesn’t have a lot of time to do it, and since this is network TV, there are limitations when it comes to content and episode length. Not to mention that Nutter did not develop Roswell or have a hand in writing the teleplay. He has to take the script for a show that doesn’t exist, work with the showrunner and both the cast and crew, to create something that’s meant to last years. Honestly, bravo to any TV show director, and big applause to David Nutter. He knocked this out of the park.
Roswell, New Mexico, a new itineration that premiered back in 2019, actually lasted longer than Roswell. I’ve never seen it, but that’s not a criticism. (I don’t criticize things I haven’t experienced.) I’ve never seen the show because I already have one that works. And look, I’ll be honest. Not every episode of Roswell is a winner. Some are downright bad. Maybe someday I’ll write about the show in its entirety because I’d love to unpack the convoluted mythology and how the show seemed to have bigger ambitions than its budget could allow. Still, that doesn’t change how great the “Pilot” is.
The question is whether or not nostalgia is clouding my critical eye. The truth is this: I don’t believe so. I could be wrong, but I know a good first episode when I see it. Some shows take time to get to the place where it becomes a classic. Others begin at such heights that it’s somewhat inevitable that they fall. The “Pilot” for Roswell begins the show at such heights. Whether or not the rest of the show lived up to it is irrelevant.
More than any other episode, other than the pretty solid Christmas episode from Season 2, I’ve watched this one at least a dozen times over the past 25 years. Was Roswell a teen show? Yes. Was it also a sci-fi show? You bet. Was there a lot of soap opera? Oh, yes there was. Are all these elements in the first episode? Yes. The miracle is that not one element above overtakes the other. It is a perfect pilot for perhaps an imperfect show, but it’s more than enough. Over a quarter century after it premiered, it deserves to be remembered and appreciated.
