Ninety Six

During the continuous deluge last night--which has assumed at least semi-Biblical proportions, since it's lasted some 20 days--there was a brief power outage. That was a normal consequence of local stormy weather, so I wasn't too troubled, even in anticipation of having to reset all the clocks in my house. (It turns out that all items purchased since 2000 seem to have caches that preserve the original settings, so my task was even less onerous). I was concerned, however, that I might miss the airing of the second two-hour episode of "24". No TV is one thing; no VCR or DVR is much more debilitating.

It's a point of some embarrassment that I should be addicted to any particular TV program, but once I began watching the two-hour season premiere on Sunday, I was surprised at how absorbing this fourth-year show continued to be after an exhausting run of over-the-top seasons. "24" was a daring concept that, despite some laughable implausibilities, managed to sustain interest over the course of a season, becoming appointment viewing. I'm not sure if my interest lay in its labyrinthine storytelling or its campy histrionics, but it has always been entertaining.

What's impressed me with this season's entry is that ingesting two two-hour segments of the show--encompassing a purported four hours of narrative "real time"--did not produce the overkill of destruction, mayhem and penny-dreadful sub-plots that one might have expected from past hourly episodes. Much of the extraneous character-serving of previous seasons has been scaled back, leaving a slick pair of two-hour espionage thrillers as compelling as the best of filmdom's recent forays into the genre, "Collateral" and the "Bourne" movies. And dealing with two-hour blocks made me less aware of time inconsistencies, such as how Jack Bauer could drive from San Bernardino County to West L.A. in twelve minutes.

Kiefer Sutherland, whom I've unfairly resented since he stole Wil Wheaton's Yankee cap in "Stand By Me," is turning into one of the great television characters. While his roguish agent could be labeled Fascist at worst, and Schwarzeneggarian at best, I guess it's all right for me to suspend my political affinities to cheer him on while he performs acts that would make Gonzalez, Rumsfeld and even Curtis LeMay blanch. I'm still in denial that last year he decapitated a relatively unthreatening bad guy just to prove a point, and assassinated his superior in order to assuage a petulant blackmailer. If his name were Haj-al Jack Bauer-bin-laden, we might not have been as sanguine.

The premise of '"24," which is that the threat of terrorism requires measures that only a single-minded maniacal superagent can perform, is certainly politically incorrect, but, to paraphrase--or cite--a line from Oscar Wilde, that is what Fiction means. The espionage suspense genre is as valid, I suppose, as team sports, for cathartic release, and this intense show does seem to provide that. And this year we do not have to deal with the perils of Jack's annoyingly plucky daughter Kim, or the bizarre personal life of the President (though I did like Dennis Haysbert). There is a new Head of CTU, Erin, who has fired Jack and seems extremely resentful of his ability. She is, however, as pigheadedly incompetent as any Pentagon official in the past twenty years. Of course, if she weren't, there would be no need for Jack. On top of that, she has a schizophrenic daughter prone to calling her up during national emergencies just to induce a guilt trip. I presume that's this year's comic relief.

One bizarre development on the show this year is how the Bauer-less CTU has become almost totally feminized. With the exception of one senior agent, and a lisping neophyte (who will obviously play an important role later on), all the operatives are chicks. You may as well call the outfit Kappa Kappa Gamma. Apparently all the stouthearted male agents who wander outside, including Jack's successor, manage to get themselves shot before they can don their trendy sunglasses. Men are so lame. It's like the show has been reconceived by Margaret Atwood.

I will not exactly miss the characters dropped from the previous seasons, except for Penny Gerald's hoot of a monster Sherry, and perhaps Jack's nemesis Nina, who were both unfortunately, violently dispatched last year. Less violently dispatched was Kim, exiled by a line of dialogue to New Jersey (an even crueler fate), along with her beau, the aptly named Chase, who will apparently be chasing Tony Soprano. Former CTU chief Tony is probably still cooling his heels in the cooler after betraying the country to save his wife Michelle. I hope she appreciates it. Replacement regulars are William Devane, in high teeth-gnashing mode as a Secretary of Defense, and Jack's love(less) interest, who also is Devane's daughter and nepotistically inappropriate top aide.

I'm sorry the writers decided to retain only Chloe, the goofy emotionally retarded computer whiz, although they needed someone to remain loyal to Jack's memory. But it is unlikely that someone so twitchy could last in the button-down atmosphere of CTU. Then again, there's surly Bureau Chief Erin with her wacky offspring. The villains, again Arabs, are cookie-cutter, but it's nice to see that Iranian megastarwith the unspellable unpronounceable name...(oh, okay, Shoreh Aghdashloo?) who was so heartbreakingly sympathetic in "House of Sand and Fog" play such a psychopathic creep. Good villainess potential here, as she flips her luxuriant black hair and blithely poisons her son's nosy Valley Girlfriend.

This made me reflect that one of the weird offshoots of the 9/11 tragedy and the War on Terror is the increased role opportunities for swarthy middle-Eastern actors in Hollywood. They are the Sessue Hayakawas of the 21st century.

I expect that once the show returns to its original one-hour once-a-week format (albeit with no repeats for the rest of the season), some of the defects of the format will reemerge. There will be ridiculous plot twists and the entire storyline of the first thirteen hours is likely to transmogrify into something totally different in time for May sweeps. But even if "24" regresses into previous bad habits it will still probably hold me captive. For all its warts it is well-produced and engrossing, escapist fare that represents pulp fiction at its most satisfying.