Rise

Rise struggles to rise above its familiarity, conspicuously feeling like a "Glee"-"Friday Night Lights" mashup. That doesn't mean the NBC series -- from Jason Katims, producer of the latter series, as well as "Parenthood" -- doesn't have its merits, only that this show about high-school kids putting on a show plays like a revival, not an original.

The performance cues you to see Lou as blinded, maybe a little ridiculous. But the show, especially early on, treats him as a heroic inspiration. This dissonance with his character makes Rise feel at times like someone remade “Waiting for Guffman” in the manner of “Dead Poets Society.” The young cast is good to terrific, and Rise is better the closer it gets to the kids’ stories.

When Rise works best, it’s invariably placing these kids at the center; when it stumbles, it’s nearly always because the series chooses to tell us how inspired they should be, rather than showing us what happens when they’re inspired.

Rise isn’t as heartbreaking as “Friday Night Lights” or as complex as “Parenthood” but it’s in an embryonic stage and has the potential to become the next big must-see entry on NBC’s schedule. Gillespie and Cravalho hold our interest, but it’s Perez who bears watching.

Unlike “Friday Night Lights,” Rise doesn’t organically arrive at its sweet revelations after building up to them deliberately. Rise is far more aggressive when it comes to wringing tears and pathos out of us, with a seeming checklist of juicy issues including alcoholism, trans acceptance, abortion, gay self-acceptance,

NBC made all 10 first season episodes available to critics, and by the end, Rise felt very close to the show it aspires to be. Getting there, however, requires weathering at least half a season of choppy pacing, unconvincing character introductions and an ostensible hero who is far more unlikable than the show initially believes.

The message is fine; it's the messenger that you want to throttle. [5 Mar - 18 Mar 2018, p.12]

Rise is both a production wobbling toward sure footing, and a depiction thereof.

I was simply ensnared by the siren song of Spring Awakening, those aching melodies of my early adulthood calling to me tantalizingly from out of the past. It’s powerful stuff, a testament to what great theater can do. And, I suppose, what decent TV can sometimes do, too.

Rise, a downbeat, Trump-era take on Glee, has an everything-and-the-kitchen sink approach to identity, diversity, and plot points.

NBC is hoping to capture the same sort of audience moved by bathos and treacle [as those on "This is Us"]. This show has its moments.

Rise feels like a rehash, a collection of stories we've already seen, presented with a slightly darker palette.

The few “Spring Awakening” numbers are good, the cast is solid, but otherwise Rise falls flat.

The writers rely too heavily on the cliches to develop characters, which leaves many of them underdeveloped or inconsistent. Radnor is such a good actor that it takes a while for us to realize his contradictory actions don’t really line up with what we think we know about Lou.

The heavy emphasis on Lou trying to encourage the students, the other teachers, and even the whole town to live up to the show’s title unfortunately takes away from Rise‘s strengths: namely, the kids themselves. In particular, Moana star Auli’i Cravalho and Damon J. Gillespie are everything the series needs them to be.

Rise is likable enough, but through its first five episodes the show doesn’t rise above a pale analogue to shows in the family drama/football/drama club genres that came before.

Through five episodes, it’s stuck repeating storylines better explored in Katims’ past series with characters who wouldn’t make the Top 10 list of either previous ensemble.