Late to the Party: Prison Break – Seasons 3 and 4

As this show continues, it becomes ever-more ludicrous. Having distanced the characters so far from realism in the first two series, the ever-expanding world of double-crosses and conspiracies can only escalate, which it does with aplomb. Series three is the weakest of the show’s run, being more or less a reimagining of the first-series’ circumstances. Presumably its half-length run was due to the Writer’s Guild Strike of 2007-08. Regardless, season 4 reinstates some of the outlandish paranoia established in series 2. Most fun of all are the writers’ attempts to fake out the audience by offering events that make little sense, then later revealing what was “really going on”. The trait largely fails because after the first instance, the repeated ploy is no longer surprising. However, the trait admirably attempts to subsume the viewer into the characters’ world of “trusting no one”. Moreover, the technique allows the writers to throw in what look like enormous errors. By resolving them, the writers dispel viewers of the compulsion to pick holes in the unwieldy plot. Of course, there are plot-holes aplenty, but the masking technique is ingenious. The coda episodes known as ‘Final Break’ are weak, and are better avoided. Otherwise, Prison Break is .22 calibre, action packed trash-TV. 

Late to the Party: Deadwood Seasons 1-3

After hearing so much praise for Deadwood, I decided to try it. In some respects, I make a good test audience for the series: I do not like westerns or period drama in general. However Deadwood lives up to the hype: it is far closer to Shakespeare than John Wayne. The plotting is uncomplicated – it feels rather like an old-west version of Dallas at times – but that direct structure provides room to for the strongest traits to shine. The writers invest time developing interesting characters and human conflict, some of which operates on a micro-scale. Most surprising is the amount of comedy on offer. The series is frequently laugh-out-loud funny. The entire cast is strong, but Ian McShane is truly majestic as the Machiavellian brothel owner. Robin Weigert is also quite staggering in her role as loose-mouthed drunk Calamity Jane. Deadwood demonstrates that drama works best when driven by its characters, rather than by contrived circumstances. What is more, Deadwood does not represent the wild west of conventionalised myth: indeed, the signifier of such a myth (‘Wild Bill’) is summarily dispatched very early into the first series. What remains is lawlessness, racial hatred, misogyny, violence, inadequate medical facilities, mud, and politics. Unglamorous it may be, but that is what makes it my kind of history.

Late to the Party: Nip/Tuck Seasons 1-3

I seem to have missed a number of hit US series in the mid-00s. Working three jobs and writing a PhD can really impinge on one's ability to engage with...well everything and everyone. One series I have only just caught up on is Nip/Tuck: I thought I may as well give it a bash as part of my Ryan Murphy kick, having recently caught American Horror Story and some fragments of Glee. Yeah, you heard me, Glee - if you haven't heard the auto-tuning, you do not know genuine horror.

On the grapevine, I heard that the first three series of Nip/Tuck are worthwhile, and beyond that point the series becomes silly. Given that the ending of season three was an absolute farce, I dread to think how ludicrous season six is. In fact, the rot sets in very early on. Mid-way through season two, we are treated to a hallucinatory "here's what your life would have been like if..." episode, a trope I thought was reserved only for the televisual equivalent of a broken legged race horse. The opening of series three pulls a similar stunt, with even less impact.

The running storyline between seasons two and three - which centres on a masked serial rapist - is also flawed, and not just because of its dire conclusion. Presumably the arc was introduced to breathe life into what would otherwise be episode-by-episode investigations into specific (and increasingly bizarre) surgical procedures. The shame of it is that the first series contains some really neat ideas: the surgeries parallel personal issues in the lead protagonists' lives. However, by the second season's rather tasteless conjoined twins episode, even that trait has become sledgehammer in approach.

Perhaps this lack of subtlety is apposite given the theme of cosmetic surgery. The protagonists' careers are centred on shaping their clients' looks in a world obsessed with appearances (as the script-writers insist on continually reiterating). It seems apt that the storylines become increasingly sensationalistic and superficial, then. Moreover, the show's clean, glossy aesthetic - which reminded me of the videogame Mirror's Edge - underscores how shallow and artificial the protagonists' professional lives are. Even the deep-seated marital and personal traumas that unravel as the series progresses feel like soap-opera constructions rather than meaningful revelations. However apt that tone may be, ultimately, Nip/Tuck's dramatic trajectory is harder to stomach than the show's realistic visceral effects.      

Late to the Party: Prison Break Seasons 1&2

Much like 24, I heard good things about Prison Break on its release, but I was also told that it quickly became silly. Having recently made peace with 24's farcical antics, I decided to give Prison Break a go. After all, I sat through the whole of the decidedly mediocre Oz, and I have a soft-spot for Bad Girls, despite how trashy it is. Okay, I love Bad Girls because it is so trashy.

Compared with the giddy heights of Larkhall, Prison Break is not trashy enough in the first instance. However, like 24, it certainly is not the quality television suggested some critics declared it to be.

The first series suffers from its duration. The escape plot is endlessly and frustratingly spun-out. Still, that at least gave me chance to get over Wentworth Miller's uncanny similarity to a Team America puppet. Seriously, the man looks and speaks like a marionettes.

According to word-of-mouth reports I received (well overheard - I don't socialise much), the second series suffered in premise. "The show is called Prison Break", I heard people scoff, "how can it possibly work once they have escaped?". Well, as it transpires, the eponymous break is the best thing that could have happened to the series. As much as I would have liked to see whether the writers could drag out the attempted escape over 81 episodes, I am reasonably certain I would turn off after the first 40 hours. Rather than being treated to an endless barrage of aborted plans in the jail, season two offers a host of hindered ploys in a variety of locations. Admittedly, that does not sound like much of an innovation, but it makes a noticeable difference to the show. Engaging with a variety of incidental characters and situations provides room to breathe, meaning the convoluted plot does not feel quite as ridiculously drawn out as it undoubtedly is.

Moreover, the characters flourish in their new surroundings. Robert Knepper really shines as T-Bag in a way that he did not in the first series. Engaging with the diegetic populace means he can to swing wildly between sleazy, sinister, vulnerable and utterly charming - not an easy range to pull off while still maintaining the character's integrity.

That said, with great freedom comes great responsibility (or something like that), and the show's writers frequently forget to maintain narrative coherence. Allowing the characters to roam opens up a host of gaping plot holes, and moments of sheer over exuberance ("Christ in a Rose" - good lord). If you are willing to chow down this s**t with a healthy pinch of salt, it is fun-times all round. Bring on season 3 where Michael finds himself...IN ANOTHER PRISON. If you have not seen the series, I will leave you guessing as to whether I am joking or not....

Late to the Party: 24 Series 1-4

I was never that interested in 24. When I eventually saw the first series, I was mystified: why were so many viewers so impressed? In fact, I declared that I would turn it off if Kim was kidnapped again after the 13th hour. Then she was. I admit, I did not turn it off...but nevertheless, I was quite annoyed.

However, deciding that the series was crap was really liberating. I went into series 2 with no expectations, and quite enjoyed it for the nonsense that it is. I had been told by many that they stopped watching after series 3 because the series became silly. Became silly? Perhaps the hype and the political climate blinded viewers to the fact that Jack is like some kind of rabid MacGyver.

By series 4, the writers' efforts to pad the story out reach epic proportions. For example, put yourself in this situation: you need to hinder an incognito terrorist for ten minutes at a gas station so a satellite tracker can be set up. I would puncture one of his tyres: the gas station is too public for him to kill anyone and steal their car - the terrorist could easily change the tyre and maintain his cover. Doing so would take around ten minutes. Job done. Instead, Jack dons a balaclava and holds the entire gas station at gun point. Subtle. Still, the writers milked that situation for nearly an entire episode.

I look forward to the ridiculousness of series 8.

Two asides.

• The 24 drinking game: every time Jack shouts 'get down' or 'now', take a shot. Every time a female character makes a decision that one of the male leads knows to be "the wrong call", take a shot. Every time CTU is "compromised" by a mole, take a shot. [warning: following any one of these criteria could result in hospitalisation]  
• The first three series begin with the statement that 'Events happen in real time'. As it transpires, there is a fine line between stating the obvious and making profound philosophical assertions.