I feel like the “Lead Character” in a show they may have
done – and if they haven’t they should – about a retired detective who ends up
solving contemporary cases. (And by the
way, if you are going to imagine something, you may as well imagine yourself as the “Lead Character.”) (By the Way “Number Two” – If you ever do this show, send me a dollar for
making it up.)
I have previously mentioned the show Bull, which I regularly watch but find naggingly unsatisfying. Why do I watch it? Because it’s a courtroom drama and I watch
all courtroom dramas. (Unless they are
soap operas masquerading as courtroom
dramas, in which case I don’t.) Though riding comfortably high in the
ratings, I sense that, creatively if not commercially,
Bull is in serious
trouble.
I know. My expertise
is in half-hour comedy. But, to me, a
concept is a concept, and a story is a story.
Interlude of Gratuitous Self-Aggrandizement: The one time I met Steven Spielberg, he
sincerely complimented my ability to “crack” the story of a script I’d been
assigned for his anthology series, Amazing
Stories. (Which I hear is coming
back on some streaming service.) My
honest response to his dizzying praise was, “In half-hour comedy (unlike in
movies which can be developed for years), we “crack” stories every week. That’s, maybe, the biggest part of our job.”
That’s my “credentials.”
Though I have nary a single credit in one-hour drama. (And have no idea how to define “nary.”)
For those who have not seen Bull – and for those who have
– Being “On the Spectrum” obliges me to include that superfluity – Bull concerns a high-tech jury
consulting operation, whose job it is to, first, tailor the juries to their
strategic advantage and two, articulate a trial narrative most susceptible to
exonerating their clients.
First Conceptual Difficulty in the Series
A team of high-tech jury consultants costs big money to
retain. As the result, the clients are
invariably super-rich, and often generically unlikable. A noteworthy exception was a “First Season”
episode, in which Bull evokes the jury’s unconscious prejudice towards a
commercial female airline pilot charged with “Negligent Homicide”, winning the
case for the pilot, whose bosses wanted her to take the fall rather than
incurring adverse publicity for the airline.
That, to me, was the most successful episode of the series –
jury consultants, representing the underdog, simultaneously alerting the jury –
as well as the audience – to their buried biases against females doing what
were once exclusively men’s
jobs. The episode was interesting,
suspenseful and factually plausible.
Unfortunately for Bull,
it represents the pleasing exception, rather than the discomfiting rule.
Mostly, they do “Don’t hate me because I’m successful”
cases, in which the jury – as well as the audience – come to acknowledge their
submerged feelings of envy. Hardly as
egregious a personal failing as misjudging half of humanity.
Consequence of Concept Difficulty Number One:
Primarily super-rich clients, challenging the “Sympathy
Factor.”
Then, there’s the storytelling.
In the “Season Two” debut episode, a billionaire’s wife,
faced with a less than generous “pre-nup”, stabs herself three times, and then
shoots her unlikable husband, later claiming that he stabbed her and she
blew him away in self-defense. Also on hand:
The victim’s mega-corporation board members, wishing to avoid an
exorbitant “buy-out.”
Talk about the “Sympathy Factor.”
I hated the murder victim, I hated the widow, and the hated
the mega-corporation board members. Who,
then, was there left to root for? (I
just sickened myself by sounding like a network executive. But this time, the “Likability Note” seems
correct.)
Plus…
Any viewer of Law
& Order would expect the presiding coroner to readily determine – from
the “Angle of Incidence” of the stab wounds – whether said stab wounds were
self-inflicted, or otherwise.
The show never went anywhere near that area.
The following
week’s episode – concerning an accidental death during a fraternity hazing –
required so much suspension of disbelief I have now expended my entire
allotment until 2037.
You can tell a show feels on shaky terrain when it injects
its dubious storylines with personalized “Overlays.” The “case at hand” becomes suddenly secondary,
when Bull “goes to war” against
– A notorious “Dragon Lady” adversary.
– His former girlfriend.
– The one person who ever bested him in court.
– His original
mentor.
– His identical twin
from a parallel universe. (Not yet, but
stay tuned.)
If you truly believe in the stories you are telling, emanating
from the show’s anchoring premise, you do not need extraneous “Overlays.” Perry Mason never argued in court against his
cousin.
The thing is, aside from suggesting a more likable clientele
and my thematic “Be true to you school” (the show’s underlying idea) exhortation,
I feel frustratingly stuck. I can easily
articulate the problem, but have no constructive plan for ameliorating it. (From the Latin word, “melior”, meaning better. At
least I can solve etymological
mysteries.)
I have imagined lunching with one of Bull’s Executive Producers (whom I know). But what exactly could I tell him? What could he learn from a (marginally
bitter) retiree, offering criticism but no cure?
Then, a thought floated to mind during meditation this
morning.
When you are confounded by what to helpfully say…
………………….. (For added
suspense. And now, the answer.)
Don’t talk, it occurred to me.
“Listen.”
And just maybe,
Something valuable will come up.
Sounds like a sensible strategy to me.
And if it works,
I will apply it to the issue that is really baffling me, one so paralyzingly confounding, I cannot even
write about and am relegated to analogizing alternatives instead:
The confounding difficulty:
Healing the country.