Plot
In 1983, Ezekiel "Zeke" Stone (Peter Horton) was a New York City Police detective whose wife, Rosalyn, was raped. He tracked down and arrested the offender, Gilbert Jax, who was cleared of the charges. Furious, Stone then murdered Jax. Two months later, Stone was killed and went to Hell for murdering Jax. The Devil (played by John Glover) explains in the pilot episode that this was both because Stone responded to his wife's rape with murder, and because he took pleasure in the killing, which prevented it from being justice. Stone died the most decorated cop in NYC history.
Fifteen years later, a breakout from Hell occurs, led by a 4000 year old Canaanite priestess named Ashur Badaktu (Teri Polo). The Devil explains a few souls have escaped (and presumably been returned) to Hell, but nothing of this magnitude, which includes 113 souls. Because the Devil claims to be "powerless on Earth", (though he apparently can teleport, disguise himself and use some form of limited magic), he makes a deal with Stone: Stone will be returned to Earth to track down these 113 escapees and if he can return all of them to Hell (before one of them kills him), he will earn a second chance at life on Earth (and thus, possibly, Heaven). The Devil seems to hinder Stone's work almost as much as he helps it, however, giving some information but withholding crucial facts or giving only cryptic clues to where Stone will find an escapee, apparently delighting in watching him become more irritable with his interference. It was suggested by an angel (in the episode "It's a Helluva Life", played by John Glover in a dual role) that Stone served God's purpose as well as the Devil's in his former life through his sins.
Read more about this topic: Brimstone (TV series)
Famous quotes containing the word plot:
“Morality for the novelist is expressed not so much in the choice of subject matter as in the plot of the narrative, which is perhaps why in our morally bewildered time novelists have often been timid about plot.”
—Jane Rule (b. 1931)
“James’s great gift, of course, was his ability to tell a plot in shimmering detail with such delicacy of treatment and such fine aloofness—that is, reluctance to engage in any direct grappling with what, in the play or story, had actually “taken place”Mthat his listeners often did not, in the end, know what had, to put it in another way, “gone on.””
—James Thurber (1894–1961)
“After I discovered the real life of mothers bore little resemblance to the plot outlined in most of the books and articles I’d read, I started relying on the expert advice of other mothers—especially those with sons a few years older than mine. This great body of knowledge is essentially an oral history, because anyone engaged in motherhood on a daily basis has no time to write an advice book about it.”
—Mary Kay Blakely (20th century)