Got to Give the People
The latest program streaming on the new LostFoundry service, Alphas by the Bay aims to take viewers into the backlog of the technology and venture capital world that has dominated the area for two decades. Whether or not show creator Joseph Cicchetti will deliver on his high concept remains to be seen but the first episode is off to a decent, if at times confusing, launch.
The show concerns the day to day workings of employees at Sherwood, a lean start-up in SoMa district in San Francisco committed to bringing Justice to the community à la Robin Hood. Yes, you read that right: Justice is now an App. But before the eyes roll out of our collective heads, it’s clear that there is something different afoot here than just the latest shiny tech gizmo to drive fortune and workplace romance. These crazy kids want to actually do it. For reals.
Nicole Lu, from Locksmiths and The Pine Whistlers, plays Jenya Zhao, the optimistic Founder and CEO of Sherwood who is bringing her new creation to market. JZ is Phi Beta Kappa from Harvey Mudd with a Masters in Computer Science from Stanford. She does Barre, plays timpani in a community orchestra, and is driven to succeed, like all real life and TV entrepreneurs, in everything she takes on.
We see her lead a morning scrum session with a small team of developers and analytics strategists before ducking into her office for a tense, closed-door meeting with her CFO Pascal Freemantle (played by Nick Welsh, recently of The Carnevale Conundrum). The two tussle over how to best allocate ad buying between different channels. In something of a character establishing scene, lines are drawn early. Pascal is a pragmatic technocrat while she is the True Believer architect behind the foundational technology meant to enable her hardcore do-gooder demo.
Pause for a moment: The office-speak of Alphas grates in some scenes but (to my ear) is not cringingly inaccurate. We are used to police and legal slang establishing those worlds so why not a gritty office drama? For better or for worse, Alphas treats the viewers as one of the dev ops team and liberally makes use of the tech and marketing argot that has spilled out of office complexes and infected consumerism at large.
Back to Jenya the Jenius ™ and square-jawed apple-pie eyed Pascal, who help us understand what their Sherwood app purports to do: the service utilizes block-chain technology allowing anonymous users to band together to fight injustice locally. A case, or “Green Ball”, is given a unique index by the system and all volunteers are put to work solving it. A Green Ball is assigned randomly to a Little John (yes, seriously) who organizes the rest of the team (Merries) on the case. Merries may provide free legal counsel, research, or provide other negotiating capabilities over the app to help the case along. This is done in situations when the law, or other agencies, won’t help the little guy with no clout. Sherwood is meant to redress the imbalance caused by tech profiteers and real estate moguls that have tilted the local landscape so the have-nots are flung outside its hilly and Valley confines. I have little comprehension of Venture Capitalists but this mission seems a bit much for a mobile app.
The scenes leading up to here may have tried the viewers patience while the minutiae of features and testing protocols get discussed but I’m sympathetic of the virtual world building Cicchetti has to do. If he doesn’t explain anything about the product, he runs the risk of devolving into a show about magic vaporware that promises to change the world without audience buy-in. Now, at least there are some ground rules for the drama to unfold. We hope.
As to what that drama is, we’re given a sneak peek when angel investor Cabot Barley pops in to the modest warehouse office unannounced during an inopportune time: the platform has crashed and developers run around tracing errors and talking a whole lot more than normal. They still wear headphones and quip the lines sarcastic while crunching code.
Cabot (played by Flint Harrison aka Plucky Bucky from Hoist the Maine Sails) strolls into the frantic meeting like he owns the place, which he sort of does. He starts trying to organize the troops and troubleshoot outage issues, much to the annoyance of everyone. They slowly wander back to their desks one by one, leaving Cabot scrolling alone through error reports and talking to no one in particular. Jenya, however, can’t escape.
Back in her sparsely decorated office, Cabot holds court and expresses his vision of the business which we see is somewhat at odds with hers. We learn here that Jenya and Cabot have a shared work history at a previously successful venture but it’s Jenya who supposed to be steering this ship. She wants the Green Balls to be cases that matter for people who can’t be heard. That’s all well and good, he says with a wave, but takes her to task for sluggish performance numbers.
Jenya reminds him that Sherwood is “Kickstarter meets Anonymous” designed to end the “corruption of disruption.” Cabot bristles and reminds her that his investment is predicated on the “double-bottom line” of pursuing profit and doing something positive for the community. He wants stronger adoption rates and an updated business plan that guarantees returns on a tighter timeline. There is an implied threat of losing funding if his targets aren’t met.
Enter Pascal, literally, with a wrench and a plan. He proposes real-time case work where users can signal for help and get an amateur swat team immediately in person. Instead of the slow research of land development misdeeds and prejudicial hiring practices that Jenya is focused on fixing, he wants users to found a virtual Neighborhood Watch. Cabot loves this idea, especially in neighborhood districts where the police are underfunded. Once again, entrepreneurialism is here to save the day!
Jenya is firmly unconvinced and warns that bringing users out into the street will leave Sherwood vulnerable from a legal standpoint. Cabot advises her to push ahead and assures her he can handle any legal issues with his connections in City Hall. She looked most unconvinced about that.
Random Noticings
There is no Sherwood signage in the office. This must be intentional since other fictional office spaces are usually lacquered with branding and product. It gives the office a very “black-ops” feel.
The attire of the team feels very on point. Allbirds sneakers and Everlane for both the guys and gals, along with the odd pair of Rothy’s. It’s a nicely muted uniform that underscores the singular (one note?) vision of the team. Everyone has bought into the neutral palette except for:
Jenya’s Pucci print heels. I had to check with someone in my house, far more stylish than I, to confirm the colorful paisley pattern. Molto elegante.
And then there’s Pascal. Tan suede bucks with red brick soles and a tasteful sea foam poplin shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbow. Someone fancies himself quite the tastemaker. I bet his conditional formatting in Excel is similarly chic.
About these two: I couldn’t tell if Pascal was trying to undermine or help when Jenya was in the hot seat with Cabot. Workplace reality and TV drama points to subversion but his sincere smile indicates a little more going on in their relationship.
I wondered why the fictional product wasn’t just named Robin Hood but it looks like there is already an app in the real world by that name that lets you trade stocks and ETFs. Boooo!
We didn’t get much more than a brief introduction to the other characters which I hope will be rectified in the following episodes. Here’s who we did meet: security team developers Duc Parrish and Amrita Vevo, and Community Liaison, Mathilde Hummel. Their dialogue was largely scene setting but Mathilde’s scoffing at Duc’s incessant step counting throughout the episode got a laugh.
Bonus points for “BabyRock” Rock by Clorofila (of Nortec Collective) in the closing credits. Someone knows what’s good.
Oh, and it’s pronounced Jenya Jiao (rhymes with Dao.) Cabot can’t get it right but we should.