When I was working at a previous retail job, a coworker recommended that I watch Prison Break, partly because my friend had been rewatching it himself; partly because I worked the job alongside my eldest brother, and brotherhood is a core theme. I get TV recommendations all the time and rarely oblige, but I decided to check this one out. One thing I can say for certain is that it was a rollercoaster of a time, with high rises and, unfortunately, lots of lulls toward the end. In light of its upcoming reboot, I will cover the first (and best) season in the review below.
The premise is as simple as the title, at least at first. Civil Engineer Michael Scofield meticulously plots the breakout of his older brother Lincoln Burrows, who he believes has been falsely accused of assassinating the vice president’s brother. The episodes follow Michael as he takes small steps toward his and his brother’s eventual escape from Fox River, encountering new obstacles and setbacks along the way, such as hostile officials like the dirty C.O. Brad Bellick or fellow prisoners like the sadistic Theodore “T-Bag” Bagwell.
All the while, lawyer and Lincoln’s ex-girlfriend, Veronica Donovan, seeks to uncover the conspiracy that put him on death row. She’s accompanied by Nick Savrinn, a too-good-to-be-true public defender who’s also interested in the conspiracy, and LJ, Lincoln’s son, whose life falls apart after the mysterious Company’s assassins kill his step-parents. These assassins, Paul Kellerman and Daniel Hale, chase Veronica and crew throughout the season.
Michael, as a protagonist, is quite compelling. I have a soft spot for smart characters with rigid morals, and Scofield fits the bill to a tee. Michael, in a lot of ways, is too innocent for prison. Violence is his last resort, unlike every other inmate in Fox River, and he’s initially stunned by the rampant murder and fighting within. But when he’s not stunned by all the fighting, Michael has a smugness about him. He maintains a signature smirk as he brazenly advances his plans, making outrageous requests of people like Sucre or C-Note, and curtly rejecting the demands of T-Bag or Abruzzi. Although the core of his character doesn’t change much, he is entertaining nonetheless, as the combination of traits listed previously leads to unpredictable interactions with others. Scene to scene, I wondered: Is his confidence earned, or will a spanner be thrown into his plans? Will he make the practical decision, or will he follow his heart? The answers to these questions never disappointed.
T-Bag is a consistent highlight of the series, despite committing every heinous crime under the sun. He’s the Joker to Michael’s metaphorical Batman, causing chaos at the drop of a hat, even to the detriment of himself. His country twang combined with his expansive vocabulary gave him a distinct presence on screen, especially when his faux-intellectuallism contrasts with his bigotry or wanton violence. That unpredicability combined with genuine cunning added tension to every scene he was in; I never knew if he was going to murk the next guy who looked at him funny, as he did so often during the first half.
Lincoln, the POI in Michael’s escape plan, is a tamer personality in comparison to both Michael and T-Bag. Never eager to fight, but willing to throw hands with whoever is in the way of the plan. His role as the voice of reason to Michael’s idealism was neat, but he’s at his best during his few emotional outbursts. I loved seeing the stoic Lincoln, constantly telling Michael to call it off and save himself, feeling the weight of his situation bear on him when he believed he was about to be executed; the facade of the calm, reassuring, self-sacrificing older brother breaking in the face of his own mortality.
As for the rest of the characters, the line-up is fairly entertaining. Sara Tancredi isn’t the most exciting at first, as her more interesting traits (her drug addiction and family drama) are introduced and expanded upon halfway through the season. The rest is spent as a no-nonsense love interest for Michael, with whom she has a forgettable romance. LJ is OK for a kid character; he responds the way you’d expect a rebellious teen to respond to his crazy scenario, and the early scenes of Kellerman chasing him and Veronica are quite thrilling. Their third, Nick Savrinn, is decent as far as red herrings go. The series leads you to believe he might be working with the mysterious Company. While scenes such as the apartment bombing ruled that option out for me, one could imagine he may have been a stalker or killer, given how clingy he is with Veronica. The answer to the mystery was lacking; ultimately, he worked for the mafia, a faction in the series that is largely irrelevant after season one, and so is Nick after he bites the bullet.
The standouts in the supporting cast include the more memorable member of the mafia (say that three times fast), John Abruzzi, whose pragmatic cruelty perfectly clashes with the good-nature of Michael’s and the emotional outbursts of T-Bag. Fernando Sucre is consistently the funniest member of the cast and brought a smile to my face every time he came in clutch for Michael. C-Note gets development in the second half of the season, giving him a much more sympathetic backstory that enabled me to root for him instead of only seeing him as a recurring pest. Tweener’s mannerisms during his introduction made for good comedy, but he became far more compelling when the series grappled with the gravity of his situation.
The titular prison break met expectations set by the build up, with every thread introduced earlier being tied into it in one way or another. From Michael’s relationship with Pope, the warden of Fox River, to the minor antagonist in Haywire, every decision made and every character met by Michael haunts or helps him as he makes his great escape. The narrative pay-off, combined with the logical nature of each complication, ensured that every moment of the breakout felt exciting instead of contrived.
Overall, season one of Prison Break is a thrilling experience. Despite some visual and audio effects reminding one of its 2005 release, it holds up narratively. I found the protagonist compelling, and every complication and cliffhanger never felt too ridiculous. It’s worth watching, and as Hulu revs up to revive it, the timing couldn’t be better.
