Because he's Jack Bauer! (The return of 24...)
24 is back. And it does know Jack.
Bauer, that is. Time for a happy dance -- and to break out my "I Know Jack" T-shirts, buttons, and bumper stickers, pronto.
I love 24-time. Time for more murder, mayhem, bad guys, good guys, questionable politics, shadowy figures, great acting, and handsome agents. What's not to love?
Also celebrating its return is Heather Havrilesky over at Salon, who's outdone herself and written a typically hilarious paen to 24's return that is well worth reading. I especially love that she thinks Jack needs someone other than the anemic Audrey (I personally felt Jack had more chemistry with Audrey's doomed husband than he did with her), preferably a big-boned woman who can talk back, and who (best of all) has a big butt. I don't see this happening anytime soon, but oh how I would love it if it did. Just the thought of someone as streamlined, tanned and taut as Kiefer Sutherland pairing up with a loudmouthed chick with a big keister would make me purchase this season's box set right now. But we can't have everything.
As far as 24 goes, I've been a watcher since the beginning, and got my Mom hooked on 24 last year, when it provided a welcome distraction for all of us just when my stepdad Gene's cancer had returned for the second (unfortunately, not the last) time. We were avid pop culture fans, in search of TV distractions wherever we could find them (Gene became a huge fan of The X-Files that same year -- all those great late-night reruns!). We began by recording Season 4 on the DVR, then watching all the episodes in 24athons that quickly made my Mom an addict.
We couldn't watch week-by-week though -- she couldn't handle the suspense (Gene laughing at her all the while). It was like that Lay's slogan -- you can't eat just one Lay's, and well, we quickly discovered that Mom couldn't watch just one 24. She hyperventilated each time we reached the end of our DVR queue of taped episodes. So I began to dole them out -- we'd skip 2 or 3 weeks, then have a marathon, then skip more weeks, etc., so we never ran out.
On one memorable weekend near the beginning, my Mom actually watched nine in a row, from 11 p.m. to nearly 8 a.m. Fried with hours and hours of secret agent lust, danger, fire and fear, and worn out and completely exhausted, she still kept begging to watch "just one more..." Luckily, she fell asleep midsentence -- a powerful argument for her to go to bed and watch the rest later.
I remember watching the first episode with Mom, though, when she kept asking all these incredibly silly questions:
Mom: "Why is he going in against those bad guys alone?"
Me: "Mom, he's Jack Bauer!"
Mom: "I don't know what that means. He's still stupid if he goes in there alone."
Me: "He's not stupid. He's invincible."
Mom: "He doesn't look invincible. He looks short."
Me: "It means he's Jack Bauer!He's a superhero. He can do anything. Watch and learn. And Kiefer isn't short."
Mom: "He really needs more help than that."
Me: "He doesn't! He's Jack Bauer!"
Mom: "OK, but he really needs more than just that bookbag thing he's got with him. Seriously."
Three episodes Later:
Mom: "Oh my God! I get it now. He doesn't need the help. He's Jack Bauer!"
Me: "You've totally got it."
Mom: "I get it now. I really do."
Anyway, it was fun watching 24athons with Mom and Gene, even if Gene became less enchanted when he caught onto the fact that the tension wasn't going to let loose, the crises weren't going to end, until the "day" was over.
But for me, with the world the way it is right now, that's part of 24's charm. We can sit back and watch this super-agent Jack Bauer, dismantle bombs, capture suspects, save America, and save the world, and all at a safe distance, in a universe that is every bit as fictional as Mordor itself. And, ahem, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a sucker for Kiefer's eye-crinkles, dimples, or for that awesome velvety voice. Too bad Jack doesn't talk more.
Besides, as bad as the world out here is, on 24 it's usually worse. Somehow, it's weirdly comforting that, as screwy as things have gotten out here in the real world, they aren't as bad as they are on 24. (At least, not yet.) And if they do, we can hope for someone to save us -- someone indomitable, swift, and Kiefer-cute.
Just don't ask why. He's Jack Bauer!
Bauer, that is. Time for a happy dance -- and to break out my "I Know Jack" T-shirts, buttons, and bumper stickers, pronto.
I love 24-time. Time for more murder, mayhem, bad guys, good guys, questionable politics, shadowy figures, great acting, and handsome agents. What's not to love?
Also celebrating its return is Heather Havrilesky over at Salon, who's outdone herself and written a typically hilarious paen to 24's return that is well worth reading. I especially love that she thinks Jack needs someone other than the anemic Audrey (I personally felt Jack had more chemistry with Audrey's doomed husband than he did with her), preferably a big-boned woman who can talk back, and who (best of all) has a big butt. I don't see this happening anytime soon, but oh how I would love it if it did. Just the thought of someone as streamlined, tanned and taut as Kiefer Sutherland pairing up with a loudmouthed chick with a big keister would make me purchase this season's box set right now. But we can't have everything.
As far as 24 goes, I've been a watcher since the beginning, and got my Mom hooked on 24 last year, when it provided a welcome distraction for all of us just when my stepdad Gene's cancer had returned for the second (unfortunately, not the last) time. We were avid pop culture fans, in search of TV distractions wherever we could find them (Gene became a huge fan of The X-Files that same year -- all those great late-night reruns!). We began by recording Season 4 on the DVR, then watching all the episodes in 24athons that quickly made my Mom an addict.
We couldn't watch week-by-week though -- she couldn't handle the suspense (Gene laughing at her all the while). It was like that Lay's slogan -- you can't eat just one Lay's, and well, we quickly discovered that Mom couldn't watch just one 24. She hyperventilated each time we reached the end of our DVR queue of taped episodes. So I began to dole them out -- we'd skip 2 or 3 weeks, then have a marathon, then skip more weeks, etc., so we never ran out.
On one memorable weekend near the beginning, my Mom actually watched nine in a row, from 11 p.m. to nearly 8 a.m. Fried with hours and hours of secret agent lust, danger, fire and fear, and worn out and completely exhausted, she still kept begging to watch "just one more..." Luckily, she fell asleep midsentence -- a powerful argument for her to go to bed and watch the rest later.
I remember watching the first episode with Mom, though, when she kept asking all these incredibly silly questions:
Mom: "Why is he going in against those bad guys alone?"
Me: "Mom, he's Jack Bauer!"
Mom: "I don't know what that means. He's still stupid if he goes in there alone."
Me: "He's not stupid. He's invincible."
Mom: "He doesn't look invincible. He looks short."
Me: "It means he's Jack Bauer!
Mom: "He really needs more help than that."
Me: "He doesn't! He's Jack Bauer!"
Mom: "OK, but he really needs more than just that bookbag thing he's got with him. Seriously."
Three episodes Later:
Mom: "Oh my God! I get it now. He doesn't need the help. He's Jack Bauer!"
Me: "You've totally got it."
Mom: "I get it now. I really do."
Anyway, it was fun watching 24athons with Mom and Gene, even if Gene became less enchanted when he caught onto the fact that the tension wasn't going to let loose, the crises weren't going to end, until the "day" was over.
But for me, with the world the way it is right now, that's part of 24's charm. We can sit back and watch this super-agent Jack Bauer, dismantle bombs, capture suspects, save America, and save the world, and all at a safe distance, in a universe that is every bit as fictional as Mordor itself. And, ahem, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a sucker for Kiefer's eye-crinkles, dimples, or for that awesome velvety voice. Too bad Jack doesn't talk more.
Besides, as bad as the world out here is, on 24 it's usually worse. Somehow, it's weirdly comforting that, as screwy as things have gotten out here in the real world, they aren't as bad as they are on 24. (At least, not yet.) And if they do, we can hope for someone to save us -- someone indomitable, swift, and Kiefer-cute.
Just don't ask why. He's Jack Bauer!
