Like its main character, Echo (Eliza Dushku), “Dollhouse” is damaged goods.  

After facing production shutdowns, a retooled pilot, and placement in the Friday night “death slot,” Joss Whedon’s (“Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, “Firefly”) latest show has finally hit the air.  

You can almost hear the Whedonites creating “Dollhouse” fansites and already declaring it the best show on network television.

Yet three episodes in, and I’m already fatigued with the “everything-but-the-kitchen-sink” approach applied by Whedon and company.  

Take the premise, for example:   Dushku’s Echo is an “Active,” a sexy (but kick-ass) operative who joins other sexy (but kick-ass) operatives in the top-secret, hush-hush Dollhouse.   As an Active, Echo is whored out to powerful clients for various jobs, everything from hostage negotiation to back-up singing to, well, kinky sex.   Echo and all the other Actives are able to perform these assignments since their personalities have been erased, allowing their blank minds to be filled with new personalities and memories tailored to their missions.    

In addition to the A-plot, the show throws in the B-plot of an unscrupulous FBI agent (played by “Battlestar Galactica’s” Tahmoh Penikett) determined to find the elusive Dollhouse by any means necessary.   Did I mention the C-plot which involves a rogue Active by the name of Alpha?

“Dollhouse” has an interesting idea: a dash of “Alias” here, a bit of “Eternal Sunshine” there: but there’s a lot of front-loading of plot threads that feel like they should be introduced some episodes (or seasons) down when we’re more acclimated to the show’s concept.   It’s ambitious, but right now, it lacks cohesion.    

Echo is supposed to be our entry point into the show’s concepts, but it’s difficult to sympathize with a character that’s essentially a blank slate.   Dushku isn’t very fun to watch in her different disguises, and her curvy physique conveys more than her ability to emote.   Ballard’s side plot adds some sense of the world outside of the Dollhouse, but Penikett is so hard-boiled and tightly wound that it borders on parody.   Then there’s the matron of Dollhouse, Adelle DeWitt (Olivia Williams), whose notable character quirks so far are icy and British-to-the-nth-degree.   Often times, too British (She’s ruthless, you know?).    

I’d say Echo’s handler, Boyd (Harry Lennix), is probably the one character that manages to stand out from the cast of unlikable characters.   He questions his line of work even though he still takes the paycheck, and he acts as a father-figure for Echo whenever she’s in the line of duty.  

And of course there’s the Dollhouse itself, a creepy “Logan’s Run”-esque utopia where Actives do tai chi, paint and shower together (gender-neutral, I might add) all day.   Self-avowed feminist Whedon explores the exploitation of young, sexy women (and sometimes men) by exploiting young, sexy women.   One scene will have Boyd commenting on the morality of Dollhouse’s operations before flashing to the opening credits, where a nearly naked Echo slips on some leggings set to a Skinemax-like theme.

All of these can be easily fixed and expanded upon because, after all, the show just started.  

But it worries me when star and producer Dushku, whom in a Feb. 27 interview with the Onion’s A.V. Club, says that the show really starts around episode six.  

To that I ask, “Why not now?”  

Sci-fi television has come a long way, with shows like “Battlestar Galactica” and “Lost” weaving important themes with their labyrinth storytelling successfully (almost).    

All of which makes “Dollhouse’s” entry to the genre even less significant. It has as much of an identity crisis about its themes as Echo is having with her personality (or lack thereof).