Whoooo are you, hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo

Now that this election business has been settled, I can get back to focusing on the important things. Today’s subject? C.S.I.

No, not the real stuff, the pretend one on T.V., specifically the original version (I have never watched one episode of the N.Y. and Miami versions). Yes, it's a T.V. related post. Yes I watch the show. Shut up.

A long time ago, before a mortgage payment and a kid crept into my life, my husband and I caught one of the first episodes. The intro excited us week after week—who could have thunk of a more captivating start—you have a sweeping view of Las Vegas lights at night paired with The Who’s most memorable (and memorizable) song.

As soon as the show started, we would plunk ourselves down for an hour of whodunit paired with C.G.I enhanced autopsy visuals. There was nothing like it anywhere else on T.V.

Now, eight years later, the episodes collect on the DVR, taking up hard drive space like dirty clothes in the hamper. What happened?

1) The love story—

Sidle and Grissom sittin’ in a tree. Why? Why was this even necessary? Why was it hinted at with a wink-wink-nudge-nudge manner? Were we really supposed to care when this relationship was mostly kept secret, even from the audience? Then Jorja Fox’s contract gets canceled and bingo-bango, she has to get out of this career path and get the hell out of Dodge. Fine, except they brought her back for A Very Special Episode..Oh! Which brings us to--

2) Warrick. Okay, we knew he got shitcanned his contract was not renewed. But then on the show they kill him off (because we already saw one character ride off into the sunset, I guess that would have been too predictable), and not only that, introduce a son no one knew about. These people have been working together during all kinds of odd hours of the day and no one knew this? Again, why? What was the point? To make us feel sorry? As if it wasn’t enough to witness the guy realize he was going to be shot and then wait it out for the entire summer to then watch him bleed out all over Grissom?

3) Loose threads

When Grissom was evaluating the sound coming from the nightclub against the gunshot (re-enacting the setting for the investigation of Warrick's murder), I said to my husband--

"Whatever happened to his degenerative hearing problem--wasn't that the BFD from a few seasons back? Why would you have someone who is supposedly going deaf see if he can hear a gun shot while music blares from the nearby nightclub?"

We have never heard about that again, yet at the time the episode aired, Grissom was hanging his head like he was facing some great tragedy. What changed? Did he purchase a whisper 2000? Did a faith healer get the demons out of him? Beats the hell out of me. Maybe after the season when Grissom was diagnosed, the audience was then expected to get some kind of degenerative memory problem and forget all about that.

(okay, he had surgery. I missed that episode. Thank you wikipedia.)


4) Stretching out the blindingly obvious over the course of an hour

The recent bank robbery episode with "twist" involving the hypnotist was absolutely lazy and insulting. We're supposed to believe these people are professional crime solvers and no one recognized the fake beard the instant they saw that footage?
I know, I know, the show is grasping at realism without even trying. No one in forensics is going to study evidence in a room lit by a single 10 watt blue hued lightbulb. A C.S.I. isn’t going to wear skintight pants and a low cut shirt while gingerly stepping over a dead body to collect evidence (I’m looking at you, Marg Helgenberger). So much of this is fiction for entertainment’s sake and I recognize that, but these types of shows have a limited shelf life before they get stupid and resort to inserting gimmicks like contrived love stories (check), killing off characters (check) and uninspired, easily solved mysteries (check). Bringing in new characters with the hope of breathing some new life into the show. (Lawrence Fishburne, check). Google "E.R." if you need another example.

Maybe it’s just time to zip the bag.