Grimm is, well, grim.

If this were my actual review, you would think I was being obvious and ham-fisted, and maybe even a little lazy.

But even if I did write something that bad, it still wouldn't be as obvious and ham-fisted and clunky as this new NBC drama (which ended up premiering against World Series Game 7 Friday, Oct. 28 at 9 p.m. ET; the pilot airs again Tuesday, Nov. 1, at 7 p.m. ET on Syfy).

Here's a classic case of what might have sounded like a good premise when it was pitched, going terribly wrong. Grimm is this season's other fairy-tale-based drama, the first being ABC's incomprehensible Once Upon a Time. But this one, had it been better executed in the writing, acting and production values, actually might have worked.

If only . . . There are so many if-onlys, let me count the ways. If only it didn't begin with a young college student going for an early-morning run in a red-hooded sweatshirt. Get it? In case that mallet doesn’t deliver a sound blow to the head, if only she hadn't chosen the fork in the forest called Talon Creek where she's ripped to shreds by Some Kind of Animal. Oh, I'm thinking, maybe, a Wolf? Wait a minute, concludes the Portland homicide detective named Nick, he's wearing work boots, so he can't be an actual wolf, so I'm going to go with: a wolf man. That's a kind of wolf, right?

I'm actually not making any of this up, and that's what the cop's beloved yet very creepy aunt tries to tell him -- that none of Grimm's fairy tales were made up, they actually happened, and he's kind of screwed because she's been carrying the burden of this secret and righting wrongs wreaked by these monsters, but now since she's got a terminal illness, he's next in line to defend the world against the creatures, who look normal to everyone else, but not to a Grimm, or a profiler, which he is, which she was, and his parents before him, who all see them for the monsters they really are.

It all sort of has something to do with Grimm's fairy tales, but not, and if that's not clear to you, join the club.

Anyway, all the answers to Nick's questions, and maybe ours, are in Aunt Marie's silver Airstream, which she parked outside his house this very night. But this is also the kind of pilot where Nick doesn't look in the trailer for the aforementioned answers until many scenes after Auntie is attacked by yet another evil thing, and winds up in the ICU. Before you can say "Uh-oh," the doctor tells her nephew the cop: "Go home now, she needs her rest, you can talk to her in the morning." If only the cop hadn't believed the doctor, because you know, if the mallet hasn't completely destroyed every one of your brain cells by this point, that Auntie's not going to be talking to anyone in the morning if the monsters have anything to say about it. And of course, they do.

Anyway, it's all Annie Lennox's fault, and if you don't want to trust me on this, then you're going to have to watch for yourself. If only you didn't have to do that.