Outcasts

The show has some ponderous moments and its characters are sometimes guilty of not asking and answering direct questions that would give them valuable information. But eight episodes isn't too much of a commitment, and Outcasts at least has thematic and character-driven ambitions, as well as a gorgeously weird setting.

At times Outcasts degenerates into space melodrama, complete with teens regularly pissed off at their parents. The human community works through corruption, lust for power, and betrayal, but also shows love, dedication, and sacrifice.

Joining the story a decade into the colonists' stay does provide series creator Ben Richards ("MI:5") an opportunity to gradually putty in the backstory, but other than Tate--thanks mostly to Cunningham's commanding presence--it's difficult to determine who we should care about here, beyond the littler matter of the human race's collective survival.

These folks are misfit colonists on a planet that, as they keep telling us, they have only begun to understand; surely they have something better to do all day than chat about all the things that have happened, could happen and should happen. I know I do.

Despite strong production values and an intriguing premise, Outcasts lumbers along, perhaps done in by trying to tackle too many themes.

Talky and grim, and more than a little bland, Outcasts almost entirely lacks humor, wonder and engaging characters.

With none of the flair or self-deprecating wit that have defined other British sci-fi imports ("Torchwood," "Primeval"), Outcasts strands a number of talented performers, including Mr. Bamber, Eric Mabius and Liam Cunningham, on a world of wooden dialogue and interplanetary cliches.