Dead Time
There's a moment in Richard Linklater's Before
Sunrise when the main character, Jesse (played by
Ethan Hawke), talks about an idea he has for a TV show
where cameras are given to 365 different people to
document their daily lives in real time, to be aired
one day at a time, over a one year period. He wants to
show how people really live, how time really runs
down, minute to minute. The one problem with his idea,
at least from a television executive's perspective, is
that he's not interested in having things happen.
Jesse is gripped by the routine, monotonously lived
minutes of a day; any action that occurs along the way
is beside the point.
Jesse would be horrified by Fox's new television
drama, 24, for no other reason than things
happen. Like Jesse's ideal TV show, it takes place in
real time, but 24 is more concerned with the
action. Its plot is so involved that we never have to
worry about the mundane moments, when someone makes a
pot of coffee, waits in his car at a red light, or
suffers through the awkward silence that hits when a
high school girl who has snuck out of the house to
meet her blind date, a college sophomore. Whenever any
of these potentially boring moments loom, the show
simply switches to a different character. And we can
be assured that someone in this contrived universe is
doing something that carries the plot -- the involved
plot -- along.
Still, as television goes, 24 is the most interesting concept of the season. Set on the day of
the California presidential primary election, each
episode takes an hour in what is turning out to be a
really bad day for Jack Bauer (Kiefer Sutherland).
Just as he discovers that his daughter, Kimberly
(Elisha Cuthbert), has snuck out her window at
12:04:23 a.m. (my time estimate), he is called into
the office -- the Counter Terrorism Unit -- to deal
with a possible assassination threat against African
American presidential candidate, Senator Palmer
(Dennis Haysbert).
On top of this, at 12:14:36 a.m., he discovers that
the assassination plot may be coming from inside the
CIA and there is no one he can trust. And then, at
12:38:54 a.m., his somewhat estranged wife, Teri
(Leslie Hope), accidentally breaks what looks to be a
really nice coffee cup. If things keep playing out
this way, I'm guessing he's going to need some Advil
and possibly a Jolt cola by about 4:37:42 a.m.
If the success of The X-Files is any
indication, 24's "trust no one" storyline is
its strongest suit. The plot isn't particularly
original but,
as The Day of the Jackal (Fred Zinneman's 1973
original, not the Bruce Willis knockoff) and half of
Alfred Hitchcock's films suggest, the assassination
attempt is the perfect plot device by which to crank
up suspense.
By the same token, the subplot I could do without is
the one involving Jack's AWOL daughter. I know that it
has been included to distract Jack, in order to make
his day even more challenging. What it ends up doing,
however, is distracting us from the building
conspiracy. We don't know Jack, his wife, or his kid
well enough to be invested in their melodrama, and the
broken family thing seems a cheap way of humanizing
Jack. (Then again, the scenes from next week's episode
make it look like Kimberly gets kidnapped at 1:54:56
a.m., so maybe I'll feel differently then.)
What is most disappointing about the show for me is
its use of time. 24 spends so few minutes on
any given scene that it occasionally feels less real
to me than an episode of Will & Grace. At least
on a sitcom, you get to know the characters as they
deal with situations. Here, the constant cutting from
one character and scene to another makes it seem as if
the writers and directors are trying to fill up each
moment with images and action, so we'll never be
tempted to change the channel. Rather than show us
Jack's car ride from home to the office, which could
have been a moment to play up the his anxiety over
Kimberly's disappearance, we cut to Teri, then
Kimberly, and then back to Jack making a phone call to
Teri as he pulls into the parking lot (which means
that, either he lives way too close to work, or the
editing is cheating a bit).
In fact, the show only uses "real time" as a gimmick;
it's less interested in seconds ticking away than in
seconds ticking down. When Linklater's Jesse pitches
his idea, a show about ordinary people's days, he
wants to show what happens (or doesn't) with each
passing second. 24 is more concerned with
showing what happens before the seconds run out. In
Linklater's concept, time is liberating, as each
minute brings something new. For Jack Bauer, time is a
limit, an hourglass bringing him (and us) ever closer
to the inevitable -- in this case, the eventual
assassination attempt.
Even if 24's use of real time has mostly to do
with creating a season-long red digital readout on a
bomb about to explode, I wish the writers had used the
device a bit more creatively. Filmmakers have been
using the idea of real time for years, and I'm
surprised that it has taken TV this long to get around
to it. While it is true that plenty of filmic real
time experiments have been as disinterested in time as
24, some films really do think cleverly about
how to show time passing, rather than filling it with
more and more stuff. Hitchcock's Rope is one
example of how real time in a movie does not always
have to be action-packed. As Hitchcock is constantly
intensifying the suspense, the "dead moments" are
often more exciting and intriguing than when plot is
unfolding.
We can't all aspire to Linklater's almost holy reverence for mundane time's fascination. A television network would never agree to such an experiment and, to be honest, as intrigued as I am by the idea, I probably wouldn't watch more than a half hour of it.
(A year ago, a theater in Chicago screened Andy
Warhol's multi-hour Sleep, a film about a
person sleeping, and I have to admit that I was
intrigued at the prospect of going to see it. But, I
chose McDonald's for lunch instead.) I know that
24 cannot play out in real time in its
"realest" sense of nothing happening for a good part
of the day. However, my disappointment stems from the
fact that the show doesn't use time in any way except
as a thing to get through. The show is building up an
interesting enough plotline that I'll keep watching,
but I can't say that I'll ever stop wondering when
Jack goes to the bathroom or ties his shoes or empties
the trash or waits with dread at a stop light.