Doe Be Doo
On an empty Times Square, an unattended piece of luggage triggers a Bomb Squad intervention. Its content is alive! With whole body tattoos as only clothes, Jane Doe appears. “Are you guys seeing this?” asks a cop willing to make sure his buddie also enjoy the view. Abrubt cut to rural Kentucky, the Hostage State.
Jane Doe suffers from “constant permanent amnesia” which sounds like a mouthful and means she has forgotten anything but her Civil Rights. Her tattoos change all at once after a scanner scene reminescent of Michael Crichton’s Looker. “She’s puzzling”, concedes Special Agent Kurt Walker, who manages not to have any mouth AND suck eggs. The head doctor, on his way out when he heard there was a kettle boiling and felt like a cup of tea, agrees. Jane Doe is a non-entity created for the sole purpose of puzzling you, Special Agent. That’s why she has your name tatooed on her back.
Jane Doe is moved to a safe house. “There is a couch, everything you need”, she’s told. She does not know what she likes to eat but she speaks Chinese so food should not be a major problem. Just do not eat the couch, Jane.
Once it is established she is an ex-Navy Seal, and therefore an Action Jane Doe, Blindspot breaks an unspoken rule of TV series: “Thou shalt not try to build suspense on the heroin’s life being threatened during the pilot”. It just doesn’t work very well, even with the help of a poker-faced Chinese suicide bomber inside the Lady Liberty. Suffices to say that one tattoo saves the day, making Action Jane the human version of the Dead Sea Scrolls. And as a cliffhanger, she willingly became so. An eternity of solving ink riddles in the most incongruous way possible is looming, making this series the retard cousin of The Blacklist, meaning what The Blacklist has become during its third season.
Dialogue are far from good, but at times they could hardly get better:
– “It was right under our nose!
– No, behind her ear.”
You know the drill. Life’s too short.