Tag Archives: television

Thoughts on the 24 season finale

Media, Uncategorized,

Actually, that ought to read “Thoughts on 24‘s next season premiere” because this post is all about the future.

Almost every season since the first one, 24 fans have grumbled that this season wasn’t as good as some of the others, and inevitably the show turns around after the usual slow setup.

This season didn’t.

There was a definite build in the first half of the season, but things went off the rails a bit in episode 12 when Jack raided the Russian consulate. After that, things became too rote. You can only threaten the country with nuclear attacks or bombings or germs so many times before that happens. Or invade a sovereign nation’s consulate. Or cut off body parts, or…well, you get the idea.

Spoilers ahead, so you’ve been warned.

The last 15 minutes of tonight’s episode were better than most of the last half of this season. The great thing about Sec. Heller’s character is that he had an ability to strip things to the bone. So when Jack started the pissing contest, Sec. Heller whipped out a mirror, instead of a ruled. Jack knew his presence near Audrey would only bring her pain, and his goodbye speech to her – while not the emotional gut punch that his speech to Kim was while in the plane over the California desert in Season 2 – gave the show a weight it lacked (kudos to the writers for not having her wake up with a teary “Oh Jack…”).

The problem with this season is that the character of Jack Bauer has to have something to lose in order for there to be any dramatic tension. If he doesn’t then it’s all gun-pointing and “I’m commandeering your helicopter so get out or I’ll shoot you” any time he’s taken into custody. Throughout the show, the question that’s always lingered is whether Jack will lose his humanity. In earlier seasons, his humanity was symbolized by Terri, Kim, Blonde Girl Whose Sister Was A Terrorist, David Palmer and then Audrey. He formed loyalties with his co-workers and this kept him grouded, too, but in the past two seasons (since Tony and Michelle died), the scenes of Jack interacting with CTU have rang false since he’s now lost that as well (I’m not sure what happened to the Jack/Chloe dynamic, but I think it got lost somewhere in the love pentagon between Chloe, Morris, Milo, Nadia and Doyle).

The last scene felt tense because there was a sense that Jack had something left to lose. Now, he doesn’t. In other shows, the next season could utilize this as a device and say “Watch what happens when the gloves are off,” but 24’s all about the gloves being off. It is a gloveless universe.

So better to put the gloves back on. Remove Jack Bauer from the 24 universe, so the writers don’t have any crutches to lean on when things get boring (cough*PresidentLogan*cough). Take CTU out of the equation, and construct a new world around him. Sec. Heller said it: Jack will always find a way back into the game. He’s a man who lives for crisis, but the series has exploited the macro-level crises to their breaking points. Better to create micro-crises again that aren’t shoehorned in. (Exactly what was his prior relationship with Marilyn, and was I supposed to care?)

Also, why was it always “Ricky Schroeder” in the opening credits? Aren’t we supposed to call him “Rick” now? I couldn’t ever figure that out.

The revolution may not be televised, but it will surely be available on special edition DVD

Comics, Media,

I’ve been in a fair amount of comic book stores in my life, and I can count on two hands the number of times I’ve seen a woman browsing around, and count on two fingers the number of times I’ve seen a woman actually working there. So kudos to my local comic shop for busting stereotypes.

But as much as I support the tearing down of cultural barriers (and as much as it behooves some of my comic-loving brethren to actually have a conversation with a girl), is it really necessary for her to play the Grey’s Anatomy DVDs while she’s working? I’m all for moving forward, but dear God woman, take us in baby steps, please! It would be so much easier to handle with the de riguer murmur of obscure sci-fi flicks and/or British television comedies on a seemingly endless repeat in the background.

I’m joking, of course. Geekery – in all its forms – is about enjoying what you like, consequences be damned. The enjoyment proves its value, whether it’s comics or a show where doctors act like they’re in high school. It proves that the thing does not exist in a vacuum, but says something else about who you are, and how you relate to the world. Not all forms of culture get people geeked about them, as evidenced by the intense lack of Internet fanpages devoted to According to Jim.

So a love of Grey’s is no more or no less a form of geekery than a love of Green Lantern. Still, I’m hoping she compromises by rotating in some old episodes of Wonder Woman. Or hell, even Cagney and Lacey.

The ugly truth

Media, ,


I have a confession to make. I really enjoy The Ultimate Coyote Ugly Search. Not ironically, mind you (that’s a whole other post). I really enjoy it.

My accidental enjoyment of this show began when I was flipping channels at my lady’s house, and curiosity got the better of me. “How would one go about a search for a singing, dancing, hot-pantsed, bartender?” After a few minutes, my lady sat right down next to me and proceeded to engage in a spirited discussion of the cultural impact of gender roles in television, which means we pretty much made fun of the whole thing.

In any case, it was one night out of my life, and I didn’t think it was something I’d ever revisit, much like the night I got loaded on Tequila Sunrises. But last week, I was sitting in one of my favorite bars, and the show was on the television, which is kind of funny because it’s not like doctors sit around watching ER. The sound was off but the jukebox was playing Aerosmith and Motorhead, so I barely noticed.

I realized my involvement with the show passed from ironic detachment to actual enjoyment when Sandra was chosen for the show during the Memphis audition and I suddenly yelled out “Oh come the fuck on, she was the worst one!” (Incidentally, I’m pretty sure this was some sort of affirmative action hire meant to heighten the “drama”, since Sandra is Latina and her partner on the show is Bri, an African-American, thereby setting up a “women of color” team to compete against all the other white girls, who dominate this show the way white guys dominate professional hockey).

Two things are immediately apparent: First, The Ultimate Coyote Ugly Search is probably the most honest reality show on the air. First, the show’s website calls each girl a “character,” as if to openly acknowledge that what is going on here is so far from the real world that it might as well be on Venus.

Also, it’s refreshing that the show doesn’t bother with any lame catchphrase when it dismisses its “characters.” When someone’s asked to leave, they’re merely told “I’m letting you go” or “I’m cutting you.” I don’t even know what catchphrase would work in this situation. “Your shift is over?” “You’ve poured your last shot?” Or perhaps in keeping with the show’s titular conceit: “You’ve slept on my arm long enough. It’s time for me to gnaw it off.”

And I know this might make me sound naive, but there are no archetypes here. I think this is because the show only features women (with an occasional bar cameo by Drunk Dude Saying “Woo” While Pumping His Fist In The Air, who – again, just like in real life – is played by a different person each time). I went to a co-ed Catholic school, but the women I knew who went to all-girls schools would tell me that the girls there wouldn’t get (as your grandfather might say) “dolled up” and seemed less likely to fall into the prescribed societal roles. In the same way, there’s no “Bitch” or “Virgin” or “Femme Fatale” on the show. And again, this is a pretty homogeneous group so there’s only The Dark-Haired, Tall Bartender With Small Boobs, The Dark-Haired Short Bartender With Big Boobs, The Blond Bartender, The Bartender Who Wears the Hat, and so on.

Second, everyone takes what’s happening very seriously. No kidding, less effort went into picking our last Chief Justice of the Supreme Court.

The women making the decisions over who stays and who goes are Coyote Ugly franchise owner Lil Lovell and a choreographer (whose name escapes me at the moment). As my lady pointed out, it’s amazing to watch these two act and speak with such authority, as if they have introduced an entirely new paradigm into their chosen fields when their success is actually attributed to Jerry Bruckheimer picking his face up out of a mountain of coke and bellowing “Say, let’s make a movie about those broads from the bar last night who got me shit-faced on Wild Turkey.” *

Also, the approach Lil has vis a vis the show seems to suggest a highly-developed skillset. At least three times a show, she’ll say “What I’m really looking for is…” and you’re expecting some kind of nuanced explanation as to why only .001 percent of people are good enough for this gig, when inevitably she finishes the sentence with “…a good dancer, great bartending skills and a decent singer.” (Although apparently even all this isn’t crucial since Lil describes Sally from Nashville – someone who already works for a Coyote Ugly Saloon – as a bad dancer, and a bad bartender, but notes that she succeeds because she’s really nice).

With so little expected of these women, it’s a little off-putting at first to hear phrases from the prospective bartenders like “this has been my dream” or “I’ve looked forward to this my whole life.” Those words must sound particularly chilling to those with, say, ambition. But keep in mind these are mostly 22 year-old women, and what were your goals at 22? Not feeling so judgmental now, huh? These women are the children of a twisted sort of New Feminism, where shaking your ass on the top of a bar is considered empowerment (damn you, Spice Girls) even if it’s at a bar named after a description of women so ugly that their temporary romantic partner regrets sleeping with them.

But the most telling example of the papal-conclave-level of consideration given to this whole process comes during the auditions. Inevitably, the auditioner (current employees who, in the show’s parlance, are referred to by Lil as her “best Coyotes”) will say to an auditionee that she just don’t reach the “ultimate” level. So apparently there’s some Coyote Ugly triple-A league where one trains before getting the call-up. I am pretty sure I was at a bar like this in Kiel, Wisconsin once.

And the women nod, smile politely and then leave. But honestly, how soul-killing does that have to be?

“Sorry, you’re not good enough to dance on a bar, sing off-key renditions of jukebox classics and pour watered-down drinks in tourist traps. Guess you’re going to have to settle for that career in pharmaceutical sales.”

The thing of it is, being a good bartender is actually really hard. While I still think the show is “real,” the irony is that the audition process strips away the ones who would actually bartend at bars you’d want to patronize. From there, the women (though Lil is steadfast in calling them “girls”) are further sculpted until they fit a particular mold. I’ve been to a few chain bars in my life, and Fado is the only one that seems to get it right. Whereas Coyote Ugly Saloons are scripted movies, Fado bars are more like a Christopher Guest film, where the basic structure is there, then filled in with improv.

In any case, I’m hooked on this show and pulling for Bri’s team, despite my reservations above. Further bulletins as events warrant.

* OK, this probably didn’t happen. But it feels like it could have, right?