Beauty and the Beast Takes a Darker Turn in Its Second Season

In the late 1980s, an unusual twist on the classic fairy tale Beauty and the Beast came to network television. In this fantasy / crime procedural, the Beauty was Catherine Chandler, a New York City DA's assistant played by Linda Hamilton, and the Beast was Vincent, a soft-spoken Ron Perlman under multiple layers of makeup. With a leonine appearance more regal than freakish and a nearly boundless capacity for empathy, Vincent, who lived in a gorgeous gothic underworld with his idealistic adoptive father (Roy Dotrice) and an assortment of societal misfits, was the show's most compelling character, and the depth of his bond with Catherine made them one of the most romantic couples on television.

The second season of this series is, up to a certain point, much like the first. Usually, Catherine must help to solve some sort of crime, and Vincent is often on hand to offer protection from thuggish types. More often in this season, the action is focused on the underworld and its residents or former residents. We meet several characters who struggle with the decision of whether to leave the warmth and safety of this community for the opportunities afforded by the world above.

Another recurring theme is someone forming a romantic attachment to either Catherine or Vincent. Sometimes this affection is returned to some extent, sometimes not, but it always is a source of some angst as the show's central characters yearn for a perfect union of their own. Like Ned and Chuck of Pushing Daisies, they must accept from the beginning that their relationship carries with it impossible barriers; while that show deals with the impracticalities in a largely whimsical manner, this one takes a melancholy approach.

Perlman and Hamilton provide brief introductions to several episodes, and these shed some light on the creative struggle of Ron Koslow and his fellow writers to find new ways of separating Vincent and Catherine and reuniting them without the tug-of-war becoming stale. Most of my favorite episodes have this tension at the core, though I also love the ones that focus on their joint efforts to bring healing to a particularly troubled individual, such as the simpleton with a disfiguring disease brought to the underground by a former resident.

As before, several of Vincent's comrades make multiple appearances, with the earnest, mildly autistic Mouse (David Greenlee) the most prominent of the minor players. Longstanding villain Paracelsus (Tony Jay) returns with menace afresh and an unnerving ability to take on the guises of other people. Up above, we see a lot of Catherine's cheerful boss Joe (Jay Acovone), and an old boyfriend resurfaces to stir up both trouble and conflicted feelings.

I like most of the second season as much as the first. However, the last few episodes take a very dark and violent turn, and the savagery Vincent is forced to unleash as a result is most unsettling. It sets us up for a drastically different third season, so the change feels fitting but not terribly appealing. This season includes some of the show's most touching moments, including the introduction of words for the theme song in a montage in one of the last episodes, but by its end, the show has morphed from a mostly gentle exploration of an unconventional romance into something more action-heavy and tragic. I still recommend it, but if you loved the earlier episodes, you might not be thrilled with the direction the series takes.