‘Cleaner’ a tad too tidy

“The Cleaner,” which follows the adventures of an “extreme interventionist,” is a slightly exasperating new series from A&E; -- its first original scripted show in six years, the network is proud to point out. There are some good things here, and some that are less good: It’s a mix of the professionally done, the professionally overdone, the reasonably convincing, the surprisingly hackneyed and the occasionally absurd.

We are told by an opening title card that William Banks, who is played by Benjamin Bratt, formerly of “Law & Order,” “has saved 257 people from addiction to drugs, sex and gambling.” (I love the specificity of that figure.) “He’s not a cop,” the title continues. “He’s not a superhero. He’s just a man with a Calling.” Yet he has made himself hard to find, so he’s a man with a calling whom you really have to want to call.

The show is loosely based on the real-life work of Warren Boyd -- same initials, see -- who is the man Mel Gibson brought to Courtney Love’s Beverly Hills hotel room a few years back to convince her to go into treatment. (Love later recommended him to Whitney Houston.) A figure obviously to be reckoned with, he has developed, according to an A&E; news release, “a partly secretive, partly incomprehensible, very nontraditional method that he employs on a daily basis to help others get clean.” Those others range from “high-profile names to perfect strangers.”

As for his fictional double, I am guessing we haven’t yet seen the full extent of his work -- at this point, it’s mostly kidnapping, effected with the help of his support team, who all give him one flavor of headache or another. There are the rich Asian beauty (Grace Park), with whom he had an affair; the woolly-headed comic relief (Esteban Powell, who does more with the part than might be expected); the old friend teetering on the edge of relapse (Gil Bellows, barely recognizable from “Ally McBeal,” guesting); and, coming next week, a large African American used car salesman (Kevin Michael Richardson). For all I know, this is the exact complexion of Boyd’s actual organization, but it smacks more of screenwriting than it does of reality.

Banks is one in a line of helpful heroes that includes the Lone Ranger, Robin Hood and the character Michael Landon played on “Highway to Heaven,” although unlike them he doesn’t work for free. (He had best take on some pro bono work, though, or -- if the pilot is any measure -- this is going to look like a show about a man who serves the rich.) Notwithstanding the remuneration, he is himself on a mission from God, having made a pact at a personal low point, to become his “avenging angel.” He talks to God in the show, which he insists is not the same as praying.

“Praying is for religious people,” he tells son Ben (Brett Delbuono), who is skeptical about the whole thing, including whether Banks is any good as a father -- between his past drug use and his present angelic avenging, he has neglected his family. This is signified in the usual way: He forgets to take his daughter (Liliana Mumy) to her dance class.

The show aims to be serious and soulful, but it’s knocked off course by being a little slick and pretty. Bratt is pretty, his wife (Amy Price-Francis) is pretty, his kids are pretty. Park is way, way pretty. (She may be enjoying her stint here as a hot number, but after the deep and complex notes she got to sound on “Battlestar Galactica,” this role strikes me as a comedown.) The overdosed girlfriend of the teenage meth head Banks spends the first episode chasing down is pretty, despite the dark spot under her heroin-snorting nose. The little sister of the meth head, who offers piggy-bank change to her hungry-for-a-fix brother in a long moment of sugar-coated corn, is pretty. (The meth head, in a constant “Reefer Madness” scrunch, is somewhat less pretty because of it.) There is a liberal use of the digital paintbox, for that lemony “city at sunset” effect and that orange-ish “warm kitchen glow.”

Bratt is good, even when required to spout expository dialogue while saving the life of an overdose victim. “We’re not listed, we don’t advertise. People find us because they need us. We have a 75% relapse rate, a 27% rate of mortality,” he says to people who surely know this already, since they work for him. But there’s only so much you can do with that.

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robert.lloyd@latimes.com

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‘The Cleaner’

Where: A&E;

When: 10 tonight

Rating: TV-14 (may be unsuitable for children under the age of 14)