Four movies and now one television series in, The Purge franchise is likely going to be the one by which we mark this point in American history. It may not be the most successful series of the modern era, nor the most consistent in terms of quality, but writer/director James DeMonaco tapped into something primal and angry the lurks in society these days. Never mind that the actual psychology of The Purge — that by allowing people to commit any crime they want for 12 hours, it reduces violence the rest of the year — makes little sense. The idea itself is among the best of the decade as far as exploring the modern socio-political landscape within the frame of mainstream genre entertainment that still manages to deliver the goods.

It’s such an inspired concept, in fact, that I’ve been willing to look past the fact that the majority of the entries in the Purge franchise have only half succeeded, as far as I’m concerned. Of the first four feature films, only the second entry, 2014’s The Purge: Anarchy, has fully delivered in the promise of the premise. The others succeed in varying degrees, but the central hook is so good that I’m happy to keep giving the series room to explore new ideas and new areas of the world it has created. The notion of moving The Purge to television, where these things can be explored more expansively through long-form storytelling, is a welcome one.

The new 10-part USA series, premiering September 4th, is totally in keeping with its namesake film franchise: it is angry, it is political, it is violent and dark, it is full of ideas, and it only sometimes actually succeeds as drama. Telling a number of stories across the same city on Purge night, the first three episodes of USA’s The Purge (which is as much as I saw for the purposes of this review) experience the same unevenness that has plagued the movies since the beginning: DeMonaco, who wrote or co-wrote all 10 episodes in the series, has a whole lot to say but hasn’t always found the best way to say it. The result is a show I’m happy to keep watching because I’m a fan of the world of The Purge but which only sometimes satisfies as television.

“What is America?,” the series’ premiere, introduces us to the four major storylines in preparation for Purge night: there’s Miguel (Gabriel Chavarria), an ex-marine who’s taking to the streets to find his sister, who has gone missing. She’s Penelope (Jessica Garza), who has joined a kind of Purge cult led by Fiona Dourif (of Curse and Cult of Chucky fame) in which the members sacrifice themselves to the Purge by allowing themselves to be violently murdered. A married couple, Jenna (Hannah Emily Anderson of What Keeps You Alive) and Rick (Colin Woodell), attend a prestigious party hosted by the New Founding Fathers — the political party responsible for the Purge — hoping to raise some money, but are confronted by the presence of a woman (Lili Simmons) with whom they have some…shared history. Finally, there’s Jane (Amanda Warren), locked in her office building pulling an all-nighter with her staff on Purge night. Tired of being passed over for a promotion by her sexist boss (William Baldwin, who has now gone full Alec), Jane takes steps to make things right on the only night of the year where that sort of thing is legal.

A number of different points of view and aspect of Purge night are represented so far, which is exactly what I would hope for from a Purge TV series: there’s the street-level insanity, there’s the misguided faith in the Purge’s ability to make a difference (and some jabs at organized belief systems run by hypocritical leaders), the 1% calling the shots from their iron-gated ivory towers, and those who want to enjoy the “rewards” of the Purge while still pretending to ignore the problem by going about their lives. These are all compelling, totally relevant ideas, but so far only feel partially sketched out. None of the characters really exist as people, only as placeholders to be put in various situations. That might be ok on an idea-driven show like this — the characters need only serve the bigger picture — but then The Purge also wants us to invest in the wheel-spinning, soap opera minutiae of their lives, be it the corporate bickering of Jane’s office politics or the romantic tug of war resulting from Rick and Jenna’s threesome. This kind of small-scale human drama isn’t really the draw of a Purge TV show, but the bigger issue is that it contributes very little to what is good about the show and often actively detracts from it. There is an overall lack of focus that’s frustrating.

Again, this could all be table setting during the first three episodes. What I’ve seen so far, however, doesn’t give me a lot of faith in the show’s structure or pacing. There’s not much build up to the commencement of the Purge, as though it starting is an afterthought. Now maybe that’s because, after four features, the audience for this show already understands the concept and doesn’t need a lot of pomp and circumstance. But then there are moments like The Gauntlet in “Take What’s Yours,” the show’s second episode, in which Miguel is captured and forced to participate in a series of challenges that are being broadcast on Purge night. It’s another interesting idea that expands this universe, executed with all the patience and gravitas of an obstacle that pops up between commercial breaks three and four. The Purge seems either unable or uninterested in recognizing its big moments when they arrive, meaning that Purge night commencing or The Gauntlet are given just as much weight as whether or not that couple is going to run into that girl they slept with at a party. It’s not imbalance; it’s too much balance, and it waters down the actual dramatic stakes.

Sequences like The Gauntlet or the arrival of a hockey-masked vigilante (think Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ Casey Jones) in episode three, “Release the Beast,” demonstrate that The Purge would have been better off structured as an anthology series, which each of its 10 episodes devoted to a single story taking place on Purge night. Then, The Gauntlet becomes its own episode, and we get a better look at how the violence of the Purge is exploited as mass entertainment. Not Casey Jones gets his own episode and we get a full examination of one person’s efforts to fight back against the machinery put into place by the New Founding Fathers. Each of the four major storylines could each be their own episodes, too, and that still leaves almost half the season to explore other corners of Purge night. By throwing them all into the same sprawling narrative, even the show’s better ideas get the short shrift.

There are enough pieces in place to make me hopeful about the rest of The Purge’s 10-episode season. As a fan of the franchise, I’ve learned to accept the mixed bag it continually offers. This series is part of that tradition. The problems of storytelling and characterization hold me back from being able to embrace it fully, but I also can’t let the flaws completely obscure the fact that this is a show with a lot on its mind and its angry heart in the right place. There’s enough good here for me to want it to be better. Here’s hoping I get my wish in the coming weeks.