So the other night I watched my first episode of “Veronica Mars,” the first season of which has been interspersed throughout my Netflix queue. It comes highly recommended by people whose opinions I trust, and I have not been disappointed. After last semester’s turbulent three-month love affair with “Six Feet Under,” I am wary of being sucked into another television series. But if I am, it had better be good.

Fortunately, this show is pretty smart. Series creator Rob Thomas (not to be confused with the leader of everyone’s favorite purveyors of mediocre suck-rock, Matchbox 20) has fashioned a hip yet believable television universe at whose center is the smart, sassy Veronica Mars, played by Kristen Bell. Her character is resourceful and sharp-tongued, but also has her share of insecurities and vulnerabilities. Also, she is hot.

While setting the series in a wealthy California suburb might seem like a rather unoriginal conceit, the writers have wisely chosen to explore the community’s class stratification and the foibles and flaws of the town’s upper-class denizens, illuminating their myriad hypocrisies and vices. A former member of the in-crowd who has since been ostracized, Veronica Mars keeps a stiff upper lip in the face of their cruelty. That she does all this while remaining totally hot is also to her credit.

The supporting cast is strong too, especially Veronica’s new friend and fellow high school pariah Wallace, played by Percy Daggs III. Sensitive yet charismatic, Wallace soon emerges as a caring friend who could become Veronica’s confidant and love interest—the perfect complement to her total hotness.

Many of the production elements are also laudable. Flashbacks are employed judiciously to fill in some of the backstory about the troubling events that led to Veronica’s current predicament. (In these flashbacks, she is still hot, but has longer hair.) These interludes, along with capable cinematography and the opulent environs of Veronica’s southern Califronia resort town provide an apt backdrop for her hotness, while reminding the viewer how hot she is.

The dialogue is sharp and well-paced, hip and contemporary but never cloying. Veronica is given all the best lines, of course, because she is so hot. The finishing touches on the show are provided by a diverse soundtrack made up of some of today’s hottest artists. (They are hot in a more general, “popular” or “trendy” or “hip” sense, not so much in the sense of Veronica Mars’ overwhelming, physically attractive hotness.) Catchy songs by Air, Pete Yorn and the Streets are the perfect sonic milieu in which to appreciate just how hot Veronica Mars is.

And finally, the show’s piece de resistance, its coup de grace, its comment allez-vous, is Kristen Bell’s immense charisma and hot hotness, an inspired casting choice for a role that demands not only hotness, but extreme hotness. Bell’s range allows her to really explore the role, especially its hot aspects, and her performance runs the gamut from quirky girl-next-door hotness to scorching teenage-vixen, get-you-arrested hotness. Especially hot is the hot hot of the hot, hot hot hot hot and hot about hot, without which hot would hot hotter until hot o’clock.