Serial Killings

In the good old days of three-network, limited-choice TV, when the season ended for an ongoing series, there was little thought of writing the final episode on a cliffhanger. But now it is de rigeur. I guess we can blame the Crosby girl who shot JR, which led to the terrorists on "Dynasty" who staged the amusing Moldavian massacre, which left the entire cast with pretty blood spots on their cheeks. All of this was satirized in a season-closer of "The Simpsons" in which Mr. Burns got plugged. (Interestingly, I was hosting the exec producers of that show in a summer TV-writing course, when one of the students horrified my guests by revealing his knowledge that Maggie was the culprit).

I suppose the plethora of viewing choices leaves contemporary execs nervous about sustaining their audiences; hence the now requisite plot or emotional suspense twist over which viewers are supposed to fret for the summer months. Silly, but we're not talking highbrow culture now. Personally I wouldn't mind a bit of closure for a change, but 'tis not to be. The serialization of episodic TV is now a fact of life, as much as the third-place finish of every superior "Survivor" candidate and the appalling choices for "American Idol." Some of my preferred programs ended their seasons with a nice combination of both; others were maddeningly elusive.

"24" completed its best season with the most satisfying developments. The show backed away from its histrionic violence this year, and produced some terrific characters, though most of them were in the Presidential subplot--the marvelously mad Martha Logan, her Nixonian asshole husband Charles, and faithful agent Aaron, who managed, amazingly, to survive the normal character purge that wiped out Palmer, Michelle, Tony and Edgar. Logan's perfidy was finally exposed, and he was taken away by the Feds, but my bet is that he is too deliciously slimy a villain to be exiled. Look for him to weasel his way out of his conviction, either thanks to all-powerful Paul McCrane or a pardon from Vice President Ray Wise, who (as we couch potatoes remember well) killed Laura Palmer. And we can't lose Martha! The show did a nice parody on itself in the segment when Martha seduced Charles in order to stall his departure. That occurred at 5:59. Commercial. By 6:01 the President was putting on his tie again. As usual, though, Jack was able to dispose of the two major bad guys with remarkable ease after failing for 23 hours to make a dent in their fiendish plots. His ultimate kidnapping to end the day was totally appropriate, as the Elephant in the Room for the entire year was what the Chinese would think when they heard their nemesis was actually alive. It also sets up a potentialo"Manchurian Candidate" type plot-line for next season.

"Prison Break," a program to whicn I came late, offered a satisfying escape for most of its characters, and the ascendancy to office of Patricia Wettig as the evil Vice President who framed our hero. I find it most interesting now that Presidents are being portrayed as devils incarnate, with the exception of Geena Davis, whose Goody Twoshoes moderate Republican was eventually shelved by American Idol. Hmm. Dastardly, conniving presidents. I wonder where that idea came from?

"Lost" tried to have it both ways, and I'm beginning to think that it is just a dancing dwarf short of being as irritatingly elusive as anything on "Twin Peaks." Michael's departure to freedom with Walt provided a neat bookend to Walt's capture in last year's cliffhanger, which precipitated much of this season's activity. The revelation that the "button" was actually a functioning device to save the South Pacific from some weird electromagnetic disturbance was intriguing. But I still wonder, what's with the numbers? Couldn't the button just be pushed without 4-8-15-16-23-42? As for the apparent destruction of at least one of the hatches in an eerie ultrasonic explosion, that's actually the sound of JJ Abrams whacking off on his typewriter. Okay, I suppose Desmond pulled off a sacrifice, and we can await the fates of Eko and Locke. (Incidentally, I could swear I saw Locke--the actor--wanderingly alone at the Luxor casino last week). Does he have a job or not? I don't think the Island wants him dead. I do think Michael and Walt are in deep shit. Also facing some turmoil are Jack, Kate and Sawyer, now prisoners of "The Others." Next season will see the revelations about this colony, likely the remnants of some Dharma experiment gone bad. As for the Portuguese chess players in the Arctic monitoring the explosion half an earth away and reporting back to Desmond's fiancee--well that certainly ties everything together in a nasty little knot. Sheesh.

Other series finales were not as comprehensive in their scope, though they did offer some askew visions. Two of them, "Medium" and "House," both lapsed into full-hour dream sequences, a hoary device I thought "Dallas" might have ruyined once and for all, except that this is another generation. I still like "Medium" despite Patricia Arquette's one-note performance. Also annoyingly one-note is Dr. House, who is shot in the gut by a disturbed patient before falling into his 48-minute coma. Why wasn't he shot in the mouth? Give that fucker a Prozac already, laced with Remoril. He is so annoying.

"Desperate Housewives," already clearly on the artistic decline, said goodbye to poor Alfre Woodard, who I'm sure was glad to be relieved of her burdensome plot line. Kyle McLaughlin, he of "Twin Peaks," is now firmly ensconsed as the new George for next year's episodes, having run over Mike and starting to date Bree. If it weren't for Marcia Cross and her incredible cavalcade of inappropriate lovers the show would be totally useless. It's only two weeks since that finale and I can hardly recall what happened to the other three housewives, and certainly don't care. Mark Cherry had better start work on another pilot while he is still marketable.

Honest-to-goodness finales of defunct series were much kinder, in general, to their characters. "West Wing," true to its liberal wish-fulfillment, left viewers with the nicest transition possible between administrations, as the Bartletts departed for Maine, the Santos's got settled in, and half the original cast got to stay on with White House promotions. Even leaker Toby was pardoned. Well, given the reality, don't we need this kind of escapism? And "Will & Grace," hardly a TV juggernaut but a milestone of sorts, ran an episode that covered about twenty years of its pairs futures, with them looking none the worse in their middle age. Somehow, given the characters' backgrounds, cosmetic enhancement seems fitting. Also, they are projected to live apart with their respective partners, raise children that resemble themselves (a neat trick for Will, though I suspect it is his genes), and reunite at their children's wedding. Unless, of course, there's a new Constitutional Amendment by 2020 banning gays from attending weddings as well.