A moment in the show "24" that prompted my undying allegiance, fittingly enough, came very early in its history.
"24" grabbed you right off the bat. Premiering a mere two months after 9/11, who could dare broadcast or watch a fictionalized serial about terrorism? Well, that question probably was easily settled within the first five minutes of the pilot episode.
That's when a woman many male fans would eventually come to affectionately nickname "Naked Mandy" gets on the Mile High Club with a photographer in a passenger plane bathroom.
The woman swiftly steals the guy's press badge (she just used him, c'mon!), then abandons all appearance of tact by jabbing the guy with a hypodermic, activates a time bomb, blows a hole in the fuselage wall, throws on a parachute pack and leaps into the air moments before the jet explodes over the California desert.
"24" introduces itself to the world with a quick kick in the ass. I think I'll stick around, I mentally told myself. I did. For eight seasons.
The recent finales of "24" and "Lost" weren't just the end to two once groundbreaking classic TV shows. They marked the end of an American era. When some writers and actors dared to push the envelope and fully engage the viewing public in a long-lasting (and not always nice) game of "are you with us so far?" Especially in a time when, ratings-wise, procedural police and medical dramas dominate TV with plots wrapped up nice and neat within an hour every week.
Think of memorable characters, plot developments, astonishing scenes, classic lines -- all part of the current popular lexicon. For their ratings success and spin-offs, I don't see "CSI" or " NCIS" or "Law and Order" (or never did see "ER") get "trended" each week on Twitter.
But "Lost" and "24"? Oh yes, very much so. Water-cooler shows like you wouldn't believe (and admittedly, shows that other people hated or could never learn to appreciate).
"24" was really a simple concept, yet exciting and hard to watch in execution each week, each year. But through it all, we learned to accept and champion Jack Bauer, a seemingly normal man with extraordinary dedication, perseverance and -- when the occasion called for it -- cunning skill and a pain threshold like none other.
A John McClane with a James Bond pedigree and a Jason Bourne improvisational existence. A man who has endured eight of the longest, bloodiest days, gone to extremes and made insanely difficult choices for the greater good -- to save the world.
Through it all, Bauer worked for a respected, strong elected president (David Palmer) and a sniveling, paranoid, ethically challenged president-by-chance (Charles Logan) who turned out to be a villain who more or less had a hand in three of those harrowing days.
Bauer had to kill or injure innocent people because he saw no other choice. He tortured many others because he saw little choice in extracting necessary information. He tried to walk away from the job so many times and yet begrudgingly returned either out of a higher patriotic duty or to settle a personal vendetta.
Two nuclear bombings on American soil, use of biological weapons, chemical/gas warfare (used and attempted), detonation of an electromagnetic pulse weapon, one president's assassination, the attempted killing of two other presidents, shooting down Air Force One, armed invasion of the freaking White House itself, oligarchic American businessmen, vengeful Serbians, doting Mexican drug dealers, Middle Eastern terrorists from fictional countries, angry Chinese government officials, dastardly Russian arms dealers. Bauer overcame them all.
But there was more than the action sequences, some of which yielded "Oh $@&*! That just happened!" reactions. (A game-changer like the very end of the Season I finale when Jack's wife is murdered, sending him into a downward spiral.)
There was thankfully more than the sometimes-drab political dramas that played out at CTU (which is now a household word like FBI and CIA) or at the White House. There was enough to counter-balance the occasionally strained, convoluted dialogue or well-intentioned plot twist gone awry.
There were characters and actions you can't forget. "Dammit!" and "There's not enough time!" or "dammit, we're running out of time" were uttered by Bauer more times each season than I could count. We became fans of an African-American president named Palmer long before Barack Obama even got on our radar screens.
We had heroes in popular CTU agents Tony Almeida and Michelle Dessler whose no-nonsense attitudes in the face of mounting odds earned our admiration; Chloe O'Brien, a hopelessly awkward yet brilliant, blunt technogeek who grew to be Jack's closest friend and behind-the-scenes protector; Secret Service Agent Aaron Pierce, who gave the term "take a bullet" a whole new dimension; Renee Walker, who quickly graduated from a stubborn FBI agent to essentially a jaded, female version of Jack Bauer; and the mountain lion who stalked Bauer's beleaguered (and hopelessly hopeless) daughter Kim.
(I know. Many viewers wish the big cat had eaten Kim in Season 1, an act that would've spared us following years of Jack's daughter, who constantly made questionable decisions.)
We had guilty pleasures in characters like Palmer's wife, Sherry, a modern-day Lady Macbeth; Martha Logan, a First Lady whose mind wasn't the healthiest around; Ira Gaines, the first villain who really wasn't pulling the strings that initial season, but surely acted like he did; Victor Drazen, the first big-name villain played to a snarling “T” by Dennis Hopper with his best Slavic accent; Habib Marwan, the first major Middle Eastern villain who had a particular ruthlessness; and a subtle sub-villain in Christopher Henderson.
We had our share of jerk-off CTU directors and superiors, whiny CTU techs who proved Chloe's scientific and intellectual inferior; the CTU "mole" that became predictable and tiresome after Season 5 (Katie Sackhoff’s Dana Walsh took the cake this year); and treacherous White House aides and government officials with hidden agendas.
We had “decently played” villains performed by Jon Voight, Will Patton, Tony Todd, Joaquim de Almeida, and Sarah Clake, who as the original mole, Nina Myers, has her own “oh %#&@! moment when Jack (her former lover, murderer of his wife) puts a bullet through her head.
Then we have failed villains (after great expectations) in Julian Sands, as well as James Cromwell and Paul McCrane, whom played Jack's estranged father and brother. Talk about a troubled family -- Jack pretty much kills both of them. That story arc would've and should've deserved more fanfare, but so much of it shoved in half an already lame sixth season made it more irksome than anything.
But it was Gregory Itzin putting on another Emmy-worthy appearance of the smarmy, sneaky Logan, who kind of pulled Season 8 out of the doldrums late in the game, conjuring up the very worst things that Jack had spent the last several years fighting to the bitter end. (I mean, what president – former or current – goes as far as to have his Secret Service guys and personal henchmen go after Jack freaking Bauer with “kill on sight” orders? That’s how over-the-top Charles Logan was. And remember, he may have blown off his chin in the finale, Logan still lives. Hmmm….)
Yeah, there was the unbelievable, especially how could Jack endure such long, action-filled days without food, sleep or bathroom breaks? How is it that ANYONE could drive from one side of a big city (depending on your plot year – L.A., N.Y, D.C.) to another in less than 10, 15, 20 minutes, day or night?
Seasons 1 and 5 remain the best years while Season 6 remains an anathema to fans. It's no matter now. From L.A. to D.C. to N.Y., Bauer did what it took to beat the bad guys and to save the world. Truly, a man apart, Thanks, Jack. See ya in the movie version, which had better be more like "X-Files: Fight the Future" and less like "X-Files: I Want to Believe."
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