Extremes of Teen

Teen television aint what it used to be. I miss Buffy Summers, Veronica Mars, the alien kids hiding out in Roswell. Old school tv teens had sass, pizzazz, wit, written in a way that hinted at hidden layers and unspoken depths. Sigh.

Recent mid-season debuts in the US include Pretty Little Liars (ABC Family), and The Hard Times of RJ Berger (MTV). Bad news? Neither overwhelms the viewer, in terms of entertainment. Good news? Neither is awful enough to make you actively look forward to a commercial.

At first, Pretty Little Liars is marginally confusing. Four female protagonists, a fifth who is missing but appears in flashbacks, and a blind girl who wasn't blind during the flashback period. Not to mention a new girl who just moved to town. The pilot drags viewers through a clunky set-up that thankfully smooths out by the second episode.

Our four protagonists have secrets (which to be honest, so far seem kind of lame). Bitchy Queen Bee Alison has been missing for a year. The girls begin receiving messages referencing past secrets, and their current lives, simply signed 'A'. They assume Alison is behind it all, until her body is discovered and the messages continue to arrive.

One day a teenager will be allowed to portray a teenager onscreen, God willing, but until that time we'll continue to watch confident actresses in their twenties trying to recall how to appear vaguely insecure. (Props to Bianca Lawson, still playing teen roles in her thirties!). Kudos also to the efforts of Laura Leighton and Holly Combs. Frankly, I'd rather watch these two 'mums' work the screen, but alas, it's all about the (pseudo-) teens.

Odd to see the network promoting the costuming. The styling was a bit boring and a touch old/conservative for teens, bringing The Vampire Diaries to mind (Elana's been wearing singlets over there for almost a year now). The script's a little lacklustre, very straightforward and to the point.

The truth is, Pretty Little Liars needs a moody bad boy asap if it's going to survive. A baddy slash sometimes goody who is occasionally psychotic, rarely kind, often seductive, and always clever with the witty repartee. Vampire Diaries has Damon, Gossip Girl has Chuck Bass. So what's happening here? Where's the resident hottie??

The Hard Times of RJ Berger was obviously created to appeal to male teenagers obsessed with sex. Shows like Freaks and Geeks and The Wonder Years were thrown around on the net as the type of cult status this series is aiming for, but frankly, the pilot was a dismal fail. Strangely, the second episode is a slightly different story, and far more promising.

The entire premise of the series? RJ has a large penis. Seriously. He flashes his fellow students by accident, gaining him some notoriety. He is (of course) obsessed with the school hottie. She is blond and tanned almost to a faint orange. He fantasises about her stripping off in the school hall for him. We know this, because we get the slow-mo dream sequence. Since they've hardly spoken, she seems pure status symbol material, which, to my mind, doesn't make RJ different to the jocks lusting after her.

RJ is surrounded by creepy people (or so it seems). His foul-mouthed best friend is determined to become popular. He has a female stalker constantly trying to have sex with him. His parents are swingers and have other couples over for dinner.

It's as if someone's disturbing older uncle is trying to appeal to the young kids of today with outrageous dialogue straight from the mouth of a crack addict. Don't get me wrong. Sexual awkwardness provides great script fodder for teen television, but shows like Freaks and Geeks had an odd tenderness at the heart of them, which is completely absent here.

The second episode, however, is surprising viewing, as if the writers decided to tone it down, say, a few thousand notches. RJ runs for school president and some of the scenes are actually amusing. The hottie girl even speaks, empathically connecting with our protagonist by the end of the episode. His best friend comes across as more outrageous than annoying. Even stalker girl moves from revolting to awkwardly kooky. Progress!

So far, watching this series is a bit like being the new kid in school. The first day is terrible, leaving you with the impression everyone sucks. The second day isn't so bad. The people you decided were idiots upon introduction, don't seem quite so terrible now.

Persons Unknown, aka The Cube, Small Town Style.

Why, oh why, has Persons Unknown debuted in the summer, 10pm on a Monday evening? The network refers to it as a thirteen-part miniseries. NBC, I hate to break it to you, but that's one whole season. A miniseries is spread across a few evenings, not thirteen episodes. (How embarassing, you think someone would have explained that to them by now).

The premise? Seven strangers wake up in a hotel, kidnapped from everyday life. It's important to note, they seem purposely chosen from a mix of socio-demographic backgrounds. All claim to be unwilling victims, innocent of any involvement or knowledge pertaining to said abduction scenario. Of course, any of them could be lying.

Outside the hotel is a deserted town. Attempting to leave the town results in a dose of tranquiliser, courtesy of remote controlled implants. Surveillance cameras are visible everywhere, and soon, our little band of lab rats are providing endless sociological fodder for the crazy freaks watching them. (Wait- would that include us?)

You don't know quite what will happen next in Creepy Town. This element of narrative unpredictability places the show a step ahead of many formulaic scripted dramas currently screening on television. (Hey, I'm happy to grade on a curve). Hints are dropped like breadcrumbs, or more accurately, fortune cookies. Who isn't a sucker for any show that can use fortune cookies to introduce a moral dilemma? Oh, it's just me, then?

Persons Unknown is created by Christopher McQuarrie, who wrote The Usual Suspects. What promises to save the premise from becoming tired? Well, the narrative isn't restricted to seven people stuck in a giant cage. A reporter on the outside is trying to follow the trail of Janet, missing mum from San Fransisco. He does a great interview scene with the her mother, aka freaky upmarket grandma, currently caring for Janet's daughter:

"She never felt I was a good parent. The word she used was abusive. I never hit her. One time, I hit her with a hairbrush until it broke. My daughter and I were, well, we both are, very strong-willed, you see."

Persons Unknown, Pilot Episode.

While digesting the inherent creepiness of this statement, viewers are suddenly made aware there's a surveillance camera hidden inside the house. THEY'RE IN THE HOUSE!

And I know there has to be one annoying character, but already I wish someone would accidentally shoot Blackham.

Janet: You're the one. I heard you walk past my room.

Blackham: Oh, was that you screaming for help?

Charlie: You mean you just left her there?!

Blackham: Hey, look, no hard feelings.

Persons Unknown, Pilot Episode.

Kudos has to go to actors Jason Wiles and Alan Ruck. Their performances in the pilot are top notch.

If the show can hold up the scripting side of the bargain, I'll continue watching. On a cautious note, it's important to remember Flash Forward also had potential before quickly progressing down the gurgler...

Procedural Television. In or Out?

I've never been big on procedural dramas. When I hear the words 'lawyer', 'hospital' or 'police', my eyes glaze over, and I feel the sudden need to watch a Buffy rerun. For one thing, there's all the corpses....

Jackson: So did anyone see that new show on TV last night?

Lorelai: The one where they were solving crimes by cutting bodies open and poking their organs?

Jackson: No.

Sookie: The one where they're solving crimes from thirty years ago by going to graveyards and cutting open bodies and poking their organs?

Jackson: No.

Lorelai: Oh, the one where people are missing, and then they find their bodies and cut them open and poke their organs and that's how they solve crimes?

Jackson: No.

Lorelai: What else is on?

Gilmore Girls, Season 6, Episode 5.

Police procedural dramas haunt me the most. I'm stretching cop shows to include all forms of law enforcement. (Abbreviated? You're in). Borderline allergic to PPD's, I'll need Buffy: The Musical playing in the background just to get through this post.

Dean: "Calm down? I am wearing sunglasses at night. You know who does that? No-talent douchebags. I hate this game. I hate that we’re in a procedural cop show. And you want to know why? Because I HATE procedural cop shows. It’s like three hundred of them on television, they’re all the freakin’ same!"

Supernatural, Season 5, Episode 8.

Why am I bringing this up? Because filming of The Bill, that British stalwart, is about to cease. Kicking off around the mid-eighties, The Bill has screened for over twenty five years, a lifespan similar to that of an elf in Lord of the Rings. The Sun Hill mob plodded their London beat while many a hyped program fell by the wayside. (And there goes Torchwood).

How can a person dislike cop shows, yet still enthuse about the grandaddy of them, all you ask? Because the Bill is a childhood memory. Like toffee apples, or a Barbie bus, or The Mysterious Cities of Gold on ABC. We were brought up on regular doses of The Bill, bar the saucy and/or violent parts, whereby mum would yell, "close your eyes children!".

Remember good old Reg? And the big walkie talkies? Sorry, police radios. My first car was a volkswagon beetle. During its maiden journey, driving my little bro around the block, there was a Bill-inspired bout of "Roger that, this is Alpha Sierra, we've got a 451 in progress, over". Those were the days.

For us, cop shows were gritty, not flashy. When American efforts of the eighties started flooding in, we were shell-shocked. The glitz and glamour of Miami Vice was a huge revelation. They sure didn't do it that way at Sun Hill police station...

Every new police procedural drama has an angle. A bit like spraying wax on old fruit to create a glossy impression of newness. There's no denying US of A networks are masters of The Hook. Audiences feel comfortable with a familiar format, while enjoying enough variation to freshen the viewing experience.

Best Eighties Police Procedural Hook: 21 Jump Street, with its undercover-cops-posing-as-teenagers, suckered in the much-desired teen demographic.

Seemingly Lame Police Procedural Hook That Worked: NCIS. Agents-specifically-dealing-with-navy-crimes? I thought they were reaching, but hello, spin-off.

Current Trend For A Police Procedural Kooky Sidekick Hook: White Collar, agent-with-con-artist, and Castle, police-detective-with-writer. (These follow in the footsteps of The Mentalist, and Lie To Me, both recently renewed for another season).

Frankenstein of the Police Procedural Family Tree: Supernatural procedural dramas seduce anti-procedural types with some kind of science-meets-spooky hook. Old School example? X-Files. New School examples? Fringe and Warehouse 13.

While it's great to see a little creativity in the mix, one has to ask, how long can policing procedurals remain popular? It seems for every cancellation, networks try a new spin, apparently big fans of the "if it aint broke, don't fix it" philosophy.

New blood for next season includes Blue Bloods, cop-family-in-NYC, and mid-season pick up Ride Along (for hook, see title). Pity those of us in the audience born with some kind of mysterious prodecural immunity, whose attention won't be arrested (I couldn't resist!).