There are as many types of programs on TV these days as there are stars out on a clear moonless night, from documentaries and journalistic truth-seekers, to soap operas of one kind or another, to Talk Shows and its latest variation, part of the all-new, all-improved Generation-Zzzz programming, reality television.
Of the many soap variants, one in particular has survived countless transformations. It comes dressed in many guises: this is the investigative-mystery. Regardless of the actual story told, it follows a broadly discernible structure. It involves the linear piecing together the end of which solves – or, links to – a mystery disclosed early on in the piece. “Flash-backs” is an often used device, but the forward logic is unrelenting. Hundreds of programs follow this same logic. Try it: from “Desperate Housewives” to “Scooby Doo” and “Magnum P.I.”.
There is, of course, a built-in flaw with this genre. The audience is never ‘in on it’. The story, always and everywhere, takes the point of view of the character. In actuality, although investigate-mystery programs involve a whole cast of characters, it is sufficient to speak of The Character: all characters function as if they share and participate in the group-think collective consciousness of The Character. Few try to extend this template – “Boomtown” was one noble effort, and that’s why it was cancelled.
Given the bulk of television programming that takes place within the investigative-mystery framework, it is surprising how little prepared we are to evaluate such a sub-genre. What makes it successful? How are we to differentiate between a good and poor articulation, of the pit-falls and surprises of the genre? The Trinity of CSI programs allows for such an evaluation.
The original CSI first aired in 1976, whose lead character was filled by an actor more notable for his big screen experience. I refer, of course, to Quincy M.E., which starred Jack Klugman’s Quincy, a role which William Peterson would reprise in 2000 as Gil Grissom. This updating of the original Quincy M.E. template took an ironical stance with itself from the very start, readily acknowledging its forefathers. Humor and the latest special effects seemed to be engaged in a fruitful combination, fueling storylines both compelling and entertaining.
If CSI’s storylines were intriguing enough to entice, yet remain uncomplicated so as to draw a commercially attractive audience (and hence advertising stream), this was due to good plots (and the lack of minor sub-plots), absent run-of-the-mill characterizations and unobtrusive acting. To be sure, the gore appeal of CSI helped.
All these were over-turned, however, in the spin-off series CSI: Miami.
The conflicting sense of normality and dislocation that viewers shared on the original CSI’s Las Vegas setting was replaced by a Miami that is home to retirees. The art deco scenic sets were a pale mirroring of the good, old days of Miami Vice, Crockett and Tubbs. The problem with CSI: Miami, however, extends beyond precedents, which the original CSI managed to sit comfortably with. We begin to see the less than subtle intrusion of a moral agenda onto the small screen, beginning with the lead character.
There is a certain symmetry within CSI: Miami. Florida has the death penalty; the series has a deeply moralistic Horatio Caine, a character thoroughly flawed in his “black, not white” moral view of the world. Where before, in the original CSI, Grissom was mindful of the separation of Art (forensics) and Violence (the policing and enforcing the forensics), David Caruso conjures, in Caine, a symbol of lawless law enforcement, where the distinction between good and bad, right and wrong is not only dissolved but celebrated, and so too the distinction between judge and jury. Caine is the living embodiment of a fundamentalist Christian world-view that has conquered America since Reagan’s 80s.
Caine, indeed, would live long in the memory as a character of note were it not for Caruso’s wooden acting. The contrast extends in the choice of The Who’s music as soundtrack. For CSI: Miami, it is “Won’t Get Fooled Again”. The baggage implicit in the title song lacks the subtlety CSI’s spooky, yet playful “Who are you”, which poses an existential dilemma without offering an answer.
Marx once wrote that world historic events occurs twice: “the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce”. He was right. The stars above the desert skies are much more evident than along the Florida coastline.
