It seems it was just yesterday that I had a mad crush on Kiefer Sutherland in Joel Schumacher’s late-Eighties film The Lost Boys. Only 21, Sutherland played David, the leader of a band of bad boy vampires, and it was that performance that turned me on to the vampire-as-hottie concept. (Actually, Frank Langella in the 1979 version of Dracula first made me shudder — there was something about how his Count Dracula nibbled Kate Nelligan’s ear.)
But back to Sutherland. Now, he’s all grown up, starring in his own TV series, 24 on Fox. Even after a low-profile premiere, and delays caused by Sept. 11, 24 may be the only new fall program to have a profound impact on network television drama as we know it.
Its premise is standard, prime-time network fare. Sutherland stars as Jack Bauer, the head of a government office called the CTU (Counter Terrorism Unit). As the main character, Jack comes with some familiar trappings: a comfortable home and SUV, a wife he’s recently reconciled with after having an extramarital affair, and a smart-mouthed teenage daughter who sneaks out of the house in search of boys and booze. At work, Jack has something of a past. In an effort to clean up CTU, he busted some fellow agents, giving him the lonely title of snitch and do-gooder. His staff, with various degrees of paranoia, question his orders, while those above him regard him as the only trustworthy agent in the unit. It seems the CTU has another mole in its midst and Jack’s superiors want him to smoke him or her — or them — out. This order comes in the middle of a crisis: news of an assassination attempt on an African-American presidential hopeful. It’s up to the CTU to stop it, and up to Jack to find the mole. In the meantime, he’s worried about his teenage daughter and now his wife — driving around the city after midnight with another parent in search of their errant daughters. And did I mention that Jack’s past dalliance was with a fellow co-worker?
Now for the gimmick: The entire season of 24 takes place in one day. Each episode is an hour of real-time action. And though it sounds, well, like a gimmick, the strategy works brilliantly. 24 is network television’s answer to The Sopranos on cable. Now, before all you Sopranos fans start writing nasty little notes, hear me out.
One of the things that make The Sopranos extraordinary is the way it uses the medium. Besides the knockout talent and writing, the creators of The Sopranos turn a full hour of commercial-free television into a well-crafted, one-act play every week. It’s a formula the networks can’t realistically hope to re-create, except for the occasional special event “shown without commercial interruption.” In these cases, all the commercials are packed into the top, middle, and end of the event, which we, as viewers, are apparently supposed to be wowed by.
Following the success of The Sopranos, there was some short-lived whining by a now-forgotten network executive who wrote a letter to execs at all the networks saying they needed to “do something” about HBO’s freedom. Nothing came of that ludicrous call to arms — until now. Instead of lamenting their limitations, the creators of 24 obviously re-evaluated the medium they are working in, commercials and all, and came up with a svelte, entirely engrossing hour of television.
One of 24‘s tricks is the use of multiple screens, which at first description, sounded like it would be too busy to follow. But once the conceit was introduced, it’s only used at key moments throughout the episode. While one scene is reaching its peak, viewers are given a glimpse at what’s happening elsewhere, or, the split screen is used as a way to segue to the next scene. In other words, the split screens takes advantage of what modern media viewers already know how to do — interpret multiple, nonlinear images and make sense of them. The effect gives viewers an appealing “insider” perspective (i.e., when the audience knows something the other characters don’t know).
At the same time, the multiple screens offers a strange sense of voyeurism, which as we all know from reality TV, comes with its own appeal. There’s a sense that we’re seeing things we should not be seeing — at least in the typical way of telling prime-time tales. And as the first episode demonstrated, not everything — or everyone — is as it seems.
There are some downsides to 24. Because of the nature of the program, no show is self-contained. Is it possible to build a fan base once the series has kicked in with new viewers having to get up to speed either by word of mouth, fan sites, or sheer force of habit? Time will tell. Then there’s the unfortunate anticipation of who will first try to copy 24‘s formula. Imitation is a form of flattery, but in television, imitation often produces less than lustrous results. As for Sutherland, though he offers a steady performance as a beleaguered father and G-man, I find myself wishing for a glimpse of that bad boy charm he plays so well. In the meantime, 24 is the most promising and surprising of the fall prime-time dramas. It makes the other freshman espionage rival on CBS (The Agency) look overwrought and flabby, and is a sober but welcome contrast to ABC’s Alias.
24 airs Tuesdays, 8pm, on Fox.
This article appears in November 16 • 2001.