"Everwood" season finale
The WB

Life-threatening brain surgery. Corny voiceovers. A cringe-worthy cliffhanger. TV cliches abound in the "Everwood" season finale.

And it's a shame, because unlike the rest of the WB's mediocre fare, "Everwood" is a show with real potential.

"Everwood" was created by Greg Berlanti, former head writer and executive producer of the WB's flagship teen drama, "Dawson's Creek." Berlanti's growth as a TV writer is evident in the show's toned-down, natural-sounding dialogue. On "Dawson's Creek," high school sophomores prattled like thesaurus-wielding Ph.D. candidates, but on "Everwood" characters sound convincingly human.

Treat Williams plays the show's central character, Andrew Brown, a world-renowned New York City neurosurgeon who, in the wake of his wife's death, moves to idyllic Everwood, Colo. with his two children, 15-year-old Ephram and 8-year-old Delia. The tumultuous relationship Dr. Brown shares with his son, Ephram, played by Gregory Smith, showcases the realistic and terse dialogue that is the show's steadying force.

The finale opened with a long voiceover recounting the season's plot, interspersed with scenes from earlier episodes. Among the scenes is the pilot episode's most memorable father-son interaction: a full-fledged screaming match between Ephram and Dr. Brown.

Ephram: I wish you died instead of [mom]!

Dr. Brown: Well, I wish I did too, you little bastard!

Comparing the pilot episode's overwrought dialogue with the season finale's nuanced exchanges and playfully sarcastic banter illustrates how far both the show and its characters have come. No longer antagonists, but not yet confidants, Ephram and Dr. Brown have cultivated a begrudging respect and understanding of one another.

Ephram: No, you said we'd be in the car by six. I said no such thing.

In this exchange and in general, "Everwood" gets the details just right, lending a quiet authenticity to its characters and a subtle complexity to their relationships. When Ephram wordlessly bends over to offer a piggyback ride to his obviously weary little sister, the moment feels routine and natural, as if he's given her thousands of similar rides before. Another such moment occurs just before Colin's climactic brain surgery, when, at his request, Colin's mother reclaims her job as her son's barber, sweetly and lovingly shaving his head in preparation for the operation. Moments like these make the show a joy to watch.

Unfortunately, "Everwood" often falters on a broader scale. Berlanti almost reflexively raises controversial topics and tackles important "issues." Episodes featuring medical marijuana, closeted homosexuality and teacher-student sexual relationships ring hollow, coming across as less-than-clever plot devices impertinent to the main characters' lives. More worrisome is the fact that "Everwood" doesn't so much examine an issue as it recites talking points. Pros and cons are discussed and a decision is made, but moralizing is avoided at all costs. Agnostics would feel quite at home in Everwood. The finale's limply cliff-hanging end provides further proof of the producers' and writers' inability to make a decision, even about the fate of one of the show's central characters.

When important decisions are made, they're typically the wrong ones. "Everwood's" exceptionally crafted relationships and characters are squandered by the show's stiflingly formulaic plotlines. Unflagging optimism and the tying-up of loose ends win out over the fatalism and creeping dystopian tendencies present in the real world. Though things might not be right quite yet, "Everwood" exudes a confidence that, given a little time, everything will work out in the end.

The final interaction between Ephram and his crush, Amy Abbott, is a perfect example of "Everwood"'s inability to avoid the sappy and sentimental TV version of life. When Amy asks if he'll return home to New York, Ephram says maybe he'll visit during the holidays.

Amy: It'd probably be nice to go home for the holidays.

Ephram: Yeah, but . . . I am home.

I am home? Come on.

That's old-school WB, that's insulting, and that's crap. Berlanti and his writers spent the first season pussyfooting around, reluctant to abandon the familiar and stultifying constraints of their network's typical programming. If season two is more of the same, "Everwood," despite its potential, will likely degenerate into a show as dully saccharine and soulless as "7th Heaven."

Now that the season is over, Berlanti and his writers must decide: focus on the "Lake Wobegon" leanings that make the show blandly insufferable, or focus on the lush details and strong characters that make it a breath of fresh air.

— Dakota Loomis (dakotaloomis@hotmail.com)