(NBC, Wednesday, 9,00)

Due to the wonder of "On Demand" programming, I'm able to bring you previews of some new shows before they actually premiere, meaning you don't just have to trust me as to how good the pilot was: if you're interested, you can watch when it does air and then tell me how much I over or undersold it or how much I, as a person, am terrible. Either way, really.

Life, to put it shortly, figures to be excellent. And I mean, excellent.

The one-line: quirky cop gets released from prison twelve years after he got sent up the river for a murder he didn't commit and rejoins the force.

And he's not quirky in that he's weird. That may seem like splitting hairs, but he's not "I see dead people" like last year's ill-fated Raines or "I am dead people" like this year's New Amsterdam or the other one from this year where the cop's a vampire or even like Bones' "I'm socially incompetent." No, he's quirky in the way the cop who went to jail for twelve years would be quirky: he's damaged from the beatings he took from both the guards and the other inmates, staying sane only by immersing himself in zen.

Now he's trying to stay in the moment, savoring his new found freedom, not in a "I'm going to eat myself sick on Oreos" way--he's no Jarod from Pretender--but, for example, when we meet him, he's savoring the feel of the sun on his face, filmed in bright, vibrant yellows to contrast with the blue and white of his 10x10 Supermax Pelican Bay cell.

The zen isn't a window-dressing, a throw-away signifier trying to angle at the inner peace he's tried to achieve, but rather an important part of the character. When trying to comfort the mother of a murdered son, he says he could tell her a lot of things, but they would be meaningless. She demands that he tell her something meaningful, then. The moment when he comes up with it is one of the best moments I've seen on TV in a while: deep, full of meaning and arising naturally from who he is, who she is and the situation that they've both somehow come to be in. I won't ruin it: you've got to watch it for yourself.

And there's the more comic-relief type stuff related to his imprisonment: he's obsessed with all different types of fresh fruit. And he's got some millions of dollars from his settlement with the department for his, you know, wrongful imprisonment. He can't understand how the handsfree phone in his new car works. He doesn't know what an IM is, etc. But none of this feels hokey or derived from a "just-for-laughs" angle that would've been fairly easy, given the set of circumstances. Instead it seems to derive naturally from who he is because of what he's gone through. I can't stress that enough: it's all entirely natural feeling, and that's something that, in the age of network notes and targeted demographics and so on and so forth, gets lost a lot, I think, if it was ever there.

The only part of the show that feels forced is the storyline involving his partner (Sarah Shahi, transcendent, and of the good-but-much-maligned Teachers) and her history of drug-use. I don't begrudge that it exists--there's got to be a reason she's paired with him--but having the lieutenant lean on her so early to give her something to dismiss our hero over... a little much. Let it develop a little more naturally, writers, and you'll fix the one weak spot of the show so far.

The interactions between him and her, though, are tremendous and fresh and nuanced. Very well executed. Just like, but to a lesser extent, his interactions with his financial manager (Adam Arkin) and his lawyer (the love interest from The Replacements and the ex-girlfriend from Swingers).

All in all: I must demand that you watch Life. The Pilot's an A+. Hopefully the series will be, too.

Life: NBC, Wednesday, 9,00. A+

Life premieres Wednesday, September 26th.