Some shows start out with an excellent debut episode, than lose steam. This is not one of those shows. When I watched the first, I was just about the polar opposite of impressed. The problem was, it worked too hard to introduce it's characters. The serious branch of the operation, Detective Beckett (Stana Katic,) is somewhat likable, if only because she takes her work seriously and and doesn't consider herself likable.

     Unfortunately, Richard Castle (Nathan Fillion) is one of those self-satisfied characters who is mildly grating at best, unbearable at worst. He considers the murders they investigate a personal gain (he's a writer,) and is clearly in love with himself and his 'masterpieces.' Why, why, must there be the inevitable romantic tension between he and Kate? Why does Richard think police procedures are an excuse to shoot snippy remarks and quips? What is funny about murders, anyway?

  Richard Castle is a writer of pulp murder mysteries, and is quite popular with the masses for some time. He ignores scathing critics bashing his latest money-making operation (one newspaper reviewer says a book made them want 'to go screaming out into the snow,') and prospers until he suffers mass writer's block. So, why not start tracking a no-nonsense (and of course pretty) female detective, using other people's tragedies as a basis for his next scrap of anti-literature?

     Kate Beckett is a hard-working woman with heavy emotional baggage, which Richard immediately attempts to divulge. Of course she has no desire to work with him, but he always shows up, there to save the day. The first episode was rather awful, as it did little but elaborate on Castle's obnoxious personality, padding it with a paper-thin mystery plot point. I became so intensely bored with his antics that I tuned out and contemplated a possible idea for fortune "If I got a buck every time Nathan Fillion smirked, I would be a very rich woman."

    Ah, but it gets better! The directors catch on by episode number two that the full Castle personality (stingy on plot) is only acceptable in small doses. He can be sufferable and even almost pleasant when given something to do, so when the mysteries started, I quickly became more involved.

      I enjoyed visits with the side characters, namely Castle's perfectionist teenage daughter Alexis (Molly C. Quinn) and his mother. Alcoholic grandmas are hardly a new topic (demonstrated in "Spanglish" and the upcoming "The Lovely Bones,) but Susan Sullivan solidly provides comic relief.   

      Some shows were better than others- dialogue ran the gamut from hilariously offbeat to annoyingly corny, and the mysteries were, as all things, a mixed bag. Another perk of having Molly C. Quinn on screen was that, working as a protective and affectionate dad, Castle revealed his most human side, and his shrillness decreased. As it went on, I found myself entertained by a enjoyable (if guiltily) show. As a plus the victims and suspects  usually provided solid performances. After a dreadful first show and a handful of good ones, I will be awarding three stars, which is fair since I'm willing to try the second season.

  I hope that Fillion's Castle grows on me, and it spends more time catching the killers and less time developing dull tension with the relatively thin leads. Though Richard has become bearable of late- maybe he could suffer a semi-serious injury, still able to write his tragedy-exploitation pulp and look after his daughter, but incapable of trailing Beckett? Castle Beckett- Season 2? I look forward to it. (Rated TV PG.)

rating- **

      "The Boy in the Striped Pajamas" is about a regular kid- not a child prodigy, not particularly wise beyond his years. The only thing that separated him from the willfully blind adults who surround him is that he has not yet learned to hate. The film never depicts him as a hero, at least an intentional one, just a kid who acts like any other would act, innocently unknowing of the expectations and prejudices of those around him.

     The protagonist, is a blue-eyed, brown-haired eight-year-old named Bruno (Asa Butterfield,) is living in a stage were fantasy and reality remain merged. He resides with his family in Germany, with his older sister, soldier dad, and mom. He tries to find fun best he can, no help to his sibling, who is the simpering lapchild type, engaged in a misguided coming-of-age, decorating her walls with appreciation for her country and throwing aside her dolls.

     After living comfortably with his family, his family announces they are to move away, closer to the new job. His father has earned a promotion. This is supposed too be good news, but isn't for Bruno- he wants his old house, his friends, and doesn't want his life changed. Worse, he has no say about the matter, and is moved to a base where men in gray pass him stiffly,  talking to his father.

    There are no children he can see, until he stumbles quite by accident on a farm occupied with underwashed, underfed people. He is encouraged to stay away, as his father tells him the people are not humans and shouldn't be treated as such. But they seem human enough to him, especially Schmeul, a boy his age who catches his attention. They meet and laugh at each other names, and promise to visit more.

     In a different situation, the friendship would be considered harmless, and Bruno would be able to freely play with the boy before his return. The fact he is living in Auschwitz puts a damper on that ideal. As is, Schmeul is treated as a flea-ridden cat- don't bother to get attached to him, he'll be gone soon enough. But love for his fatherland has not impressed itself in Bruno's mind yet, and he ignores the others warnings, pleased to have another child to interact with.

     This film is based on a young adult novel by John Boyne, described as a 'fable' by the author. It contains telling details of the holocaust, but from a child's eye view- nothing is treated as if Bruno's concentration was turned, and yellow star and fences are interspersed with the normal thoughts of a kid- toys, friends, irritating siblings. It is a little but powerful story, meant to send a message with only as much information as we need. The rest we know for ourselves.

     For basically first-time actors, the young boys who play Bruno and Schmeul do fairly well. However, I was annoyed by the skips and jumps in Butterfield's performance. In scenes of fantasy and play he slipped naturally, but when the story becomes more  intense he seemed slightly confused on how to react to the script, which hampered the believability somewhat. He did, a generally good job, however, and one shouldn't want progress too fast to avoid a Culkin-ish speed-up of maturity.

     "The Boy in the Striped Pajamas," is quiet and infused with a moral ambiguity. Bruno doesn't view his father as a monster even as he begins to know more. Even his mother doesn't seem completely aware of the situation, and although she's knows of the prisoners, it still comes as a shock when  she figures out what the torrent of smoke streaming into the air is.

     Also, it contains the most shocking and unexpected ending since The Life Before Her Eyes. Although the adults turn away, reminding themselves of the fortune that they are not within the barbed fence, they are forced, through the most horrendous way possible, to look back. Everybody finds their inner humanity, and no one wins (Rated PG-13.)

*