The Subliminal Reassurances of Procedural Dramas Continue
A year and a half ago (my, how time flies) I wrote a little ditty about The Subliminal Reassurances of Procedural Dramas. The basic unspoken premise was that CSI and its ilk are all reassuring because they show us that, should we die in an unforeseen yiffing accident, a group of smart, determined people will figure out what happened to us, catch the bad furry, and do it all set to groovy music and blue light with fancy laser imagers and whatnot.
In the time since penning that thought, we’ve seen a new batch of procedurals roll around. But the most telling is the new NBC whodunit Raines, where Jeff Goldblum actually talks with the deceased (or, at least, his interpretation of the deceased) while he solves the crime. So, not only does a brilliant but dysfunctional man solve your murder, he makes small talk with you at the same time.
I guess that’s progress.
It’s a decent show. Goldblum is an acquired taste, like squeaky jazz or stinky cheese. But he walks the line between annoying and intriguing with ease. And, in the end, his sad, broken Detective Raines, the guy who moved to LA to become a writer and wound up a detective, makes a compelling protagonist.