813: '4am - 5am'
Teleplay: Manny Coto & Brannon Braga
Story: Howard Gordon
Dr: Milan Cheylov
Synopsis: CTU recovers from an EMP that knocked out all of its systems while Jack and Cole fight the terrorists and try to escape a shootout. Chloe works to get CTU back online and get satellites up so that they can help Jack and Cole while Dana dodges Prady and his questions.
Review: It is a truth universally acknowledged that 24 is in desperate need of a good culling. Forget the thousands upon thousands of dollars generated by its relatively steady viewing figures (no matter how much you might want to tune out, like all good car wrecks, you just can't) and the millions garnered through merchandise and promo; ignore the desperate pleas of the handful of rabid fans who have convinced themselves that they 'need their fix', as if somehow enslaved to the show's narcotic tendencies; cast aside the fact that you'll be putting hundreds of writers, directors, cast and crew out of a job. This show needs to die. And now. Before it drives an entire nation to psychological breakdown. Before it turns heretofore innocent and perfectly content individuals into sociopathic killing machines, battering every harmless biped within a two feet radius to death because they just can't take it anymore. And you may think that a little extreme, and perhaps it is, but really, there's no other way to describe this season of 24 than as a catalyst for agonising, hair-pulling, face-munching frustration.
If you want to point the finger of blame, it should be aimed squarely at the writing staff, whose patent refusal to challenge themselves and do anything other than regurgitate formulaic narrative patterns is crippling the show's success. It's a worrisome and baffling trend, particularly given the fact that occasionally, the season does deliver either passable or actually engaging instalments. Last week's hour of power was a well-structured, pointedly tense piece that ratcheted up the suspense and avoided many of the pitfalls that have previously plagued the programme. Unfortunately, these appear to be mere blips; brief flashes of life from a series that has lapsed into a comatose state and is threatening cardiac arrest. And as you can probably guess, '4am - 5am', hour thirteen of this shockingly troubled year, returns to the trend, falling rather spectacularly from grace and proving once again that the production crew have well and truly lost every last juicy morsel of the plot.
The episode is a two-hander, oscillating between juxtapostionary narrative strands that counterpoint each other, both thematically and in terms of the quality of their content. The over-arching motif, inevitably, is the fallout from the detonation of the EMP, which promptly renders things a little difficult both at CTU HQ and for those in the field. This would be an encouraging element if it were handled realistically and without the most ludicrous of haste. Taking the base of operations as our first concern, Howard Gordon, Evan Katz and David Fury resort to fanciful pseudo-technological garbage in an effort to impress the viewer, but actually wind up making the programme appear amateurish. As soon as the representatives from the NSA arrive (within about ten minutes, note) and processes are put in place to begin repairing the systems, dialogue descends into technobabble and make believe, with the occasional dose of verisimilitude thrown in just to make it seem like the writers know what they're talking about. Which they don't. Quite clearly. The terminology is largely correct, but what NSA and especially Chloe propose doing with it is just plain rubbish, completely out of context and having no grounding in reality whatsoever. But who cares, right? Who really pays attention to that stuff anyway? Why should we get hung up on it? Well, there seems little point in attempting to inject realism, taking steps to seem convincing, when actually you're just doing the opposite. That's counterproductive, guys. Just don't bother!
What is worse, undoubtedly, is the manner within which the story is structured. The plot is framed around two thoroughly abhorrent and irritatingly contrived character beats: the smarmy oneupmanship of the NSA representative and the ridiculous persistence and inappropriateness of one Chloe O'Brien. The pair are effectively ciphers here, spouting dialogue that simply performs a role (antagonist and supposedly protagonist), rather than embellishing character or creating something organic. The NSA guy, in particular, is little more than a one-dimensional cardboard cut out, his sole role seemingly being to provide O'Brien with an obstruction so that she can overcome the odds (again), prove how oh-so-wonderful she is and drag the plot out at the same time. Well, yay for that, eh? Honestly, is there any real need for this? Does anyone watching the show genuinely feel engaged with Chloe's 'struggle'? Or are well just irritated by the fact that the NSA dude shows no semblance of compromise whatsoever, simply will not listen to sense and has the most stuck-up attitude known to man, considering himself superior to all those working at CTU and actually having the audacity to get annoyed by the fact that the place was subjected to an attack that they couldn't possibly have predicted? We are surely supposed to hate this guy, ut actually, we just end up hating the writers for making us endure this crap yet again, for resorting to a storyline that they've slung at us time and time again for the last eight fucking years. Someone from the outside comes in, they clash with everyone else, we rally around CTU and hope to boot them out. Ye Gods, why???
Chloe's one-woman effort to magically fix all of CTU's obliterated systems only hampers things further. Of course, she knows better than every last one of NSA's tech experts! Of course she has a work around that even the guy who helped design the entire freaking building wouldn't have conceived of! And okay, so perhaps the reason he wouldn't is that the idea is dangerous, but then, why does Hastings allow her to go ahead with it anyway? Would it kill the writing staff to not allow everything to be resolved within the space of one episode and actually demonstrate some long-lasting consequences? That's too much these days, apparently; we need to turn O'Brien into the single greatest analyst in CTU history! Maverick, intuitive, practical... wow, she's sodding amazing, isn't she? And handy with a gun too! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, just when you think there are no further depths that this strand could plumb (after being made to endure pointless obstruction and worthlessly contrived conflict), Chloe actually aims a firearm at her superior, quivering like she's never seen one of these strange devices before, thereby risking her entire career for the gazillionth time. But it's okay because hse knows she's right so... we'll just let her off! There will be no lasting consequences for this gal, oh no. Suspension? Ex-communication? Prison? Oh no! A slap on the wrist from Hunchback Hastings in a patently laughable scene that essentially consists of a series of 'ner ner ner ner ner's. That's it! He lets her continue! Despite the insistence of qualified officials that what she's doing may well destroy the very fabric of the building or something. Seriously. What is this crap? Rajskub, Williamson and virtually everyone else involved are awful, delivering their lines with little or no conviction and seeming decidedly wooden, but you really can't blame them. This is truly horrible stuff, the kind of writing that has no place in a two-bit soap opera, never mind a supposedly quality drama like 24.
Of course, everything is fixed by hour's end. Well, sorta. They've got their systems up and running. Chloe's essentially fixed everything that they need in order to communicate with Jack (whom she's desperately worried about, you know... in case you didn't get that), prevented the drones from falling out of the sky (well, there's a major design flaw if ever I did see one) and stopped the vending machine from spewing out Oreos when you ask for a hot chocolate. So... what was the point? We're treated to a cumulative twenty minutes of technology-bereft action in the field (more on that later) and absolutely no consequences within the Counter Terrorist Unit itself. Seriously... where's the challenge here? The poor parole officer's files get conveniently erased and... um... that's it! Why not maintain this strand? Why not challenge your writing skills and force yourselves to come up with something new and entertaining, instead of resorting to the same lazy quick fixes with every passing week? The absurdly efficient technology is one of 24's core problems and removing it from the equation provides the road ahead with so much promise. To utterly and completely waste it within the space of an hour, especially in the sort of cheaply composed and catastrophically lazy manner as here, is just plain stupid. Don't give us the drones back; don't allow everyone to have access to every last security camera in the entire world. Give us something different. Please!
Frustratingly, it seems that the writers are categorically incapable of providing this. With every passing scene, the CTU strand simply gets worse and worse, sinking further into the quicksand of banality, until finally, it disappears beneath the surface, drowning in its own fetid detritus. Yes, as if the magical fixes and hopelessly wooden acting weren't enough (check out that scene between Hastings and Kayla... could you get any more forced? Seriously?!), 24 effectively lobotomises itself at hour's end with the oh-so-exciting twist that, yes, your eyes weren't deceiving you and your brain does hurt oh so very much, DanaJenny is a mole! She's working for the no-good, no-name terrorists! She's been secretly hampering CTU's efforts all this time by... struggling to silence her ex-con ex-lover and, um, not much else really! And why? Well, the answer's obvious,isn't it? She's Rod Stewart's No. 1 fan and she just can't wait to see him perform 'Maggie May' in front of thousands in Manhattan and subsequently obliterate the entire city! Sorry, in-joke there. Couldn't resist. Really, this has to be made light of otherwise I'll start bashing my brains in with the keyboard.
God, this truly is the very definition of abysmal, isn't it? Whose idea was this? Oh sure, it's going to give Katie Sackhoff something more interesting to do for the next half of the season and at least it connects her narrative to that pesky central story (we've essentially done away with any unrelated gumf... yay!), but did it really have to be this? Did we have to have yet another Goddamn motherfudging mole working inside CTU? In one sense, it's arguably a logical extension of the fact that we already knew she had a prior conviction but come on. Putting aside the fact that the security checks at this organisation are the most useless ever invented, we've seen this story a billion, trillion, gazillion bloody times. It isn't interesting any more. There's nothing left to surprise us. The audience response is not "oh my God! Can you believe what they just did?", it's "for f**k's sake, why must we put up with this predictably formulaic crap, season after season?" What have we done to deserve this? Why can't we have something new? Would it kill the writing staff to depart from the formula, to throw the rule book out of the window? Undoubtedly, many will be willing to swallow this rancid, festering pill because it immediately resolves the problem created by the extraneous narrative element but frankly, I just can't. This is as ludicrous a contrivance as The Kevin DanaJenny Show, if not more so. It feels like the writers were scrambling for something to do with the story, having backed themselves squarely into a corner, and they just picked the first thing that came to mind without stopping to think it through. There's nothing organic about this at all; it's a thoroughly transparent plot manoeuvre and a woefully atrocious one at that.
This takes so much wind out of the episode's sails that it almost negates the successful elements provided by the concurrent plot strand. To be fair to the show, the shoot outs between Bauer, Cole and the Redshirts and da evilz terrorists are quite niftily executed. Without the technological aid provided by CTU, without Chloe being able to predict the enemy's every move, there is some genuine peril created, a palpable level of tension and suspense, that is magnified greatly by Milan Cheylov's expert direction. He uses static and hand-held camera work to convey the uncertainty and chaos of the situation, and orchestrates the fire fight with the utmost of precision. Unfortunately, the writers prove themselves utterly incapable (again) of scribing something without lapsing into cliche. Agent Owen's death, as well as that of his compadre, is fraught with predictability: for the umpteenth time in televisual history, an inexperienced officer decides to ignore the sage advice of his superior and break out on his own, thereby compromising the entire mission. And then Owen does the same, running after the guy's bloodied carcass, desperate to save him. Sure, this might be passable, hell, it could even be poignant, if it weren't so ingrained in the viewer's conscience from years upon years of trite storytelling. There's no pathos at all because everything is so blase, so readable, so telegraphed. We know they're going to betray orders, we know they're going to die. There's nothing fulfilling about these beats at all. And to have Jack shot in the middle of the battle and survive again, getting up, effectively walking away and actually being coherent in the ambulance at episode's end is... well... there are barely the words. Why oh why oh why must the writers insist on putting Bauer in peril when it's obvious to everyone with a frontal lobe that he is in no danger whatsoever? Put Cole in the firing line, for God's sake! Anything else! Or hell, why not incapacitate Jack for the rest of the day? Give his gunning down some actual consequences? It's terribly easy to write this stuff, to rectify these problems, and so it's hard to believe that professional scriptwriters simply cannot do it. That they can't see that bringing Renee in just in the nick of time to fix everything is the furthest thing from satisfying. They just box the innovative away, much like DanaJennyMole hides Stephen Root's body behind, um, a rather conveniently shaped panel, not thinking beyond the immediate. And it's killing the show.
It really is a chore to sit through 24 these days. Episodes like this are so poorly written, so riddled with ill-thought-out developments, lazy cliches and objectionable plot beats that any semblance of enjoyment is utterly annihilated. The viewer is removed from his or her engagement and sits outside of the story, looking in on the continued downfall of this once mighty show. The car crash continues with every passing hour, occasionally offering shards of hope but mostly causing the programme to die a slow and painful death before our very eyes. Unless things pick up fast, and do so persistently, 24 really needs to be put out of its misery as soon as humanly possible... before we're all driven clinically insane by its absurdity. 3.1
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