REPEAT MASSIVE SPOILER ALERTS about SEASON ONE!

Before I try to explain why the twenty-four-odd hours I devoted to watching the first season of “24″ ultimately left me feeling mighty ornery rather than entertained, I have to mention one more thing that was really good about the show. The odd thing is (and the reason why I must mention it) is that what I ultimately hated about “24″ stems,. perhaps paradoxically, from what is best about it in purely technical terms. What makes it as addicting, I might almost say, as a nice little hit of meth:

The writers, directors and producers of “24″ have—no question—mastered the techniques appropriate to the old Saturday afternoon Serial Cliffhangers; the same old TV serials that, interestingly enough, inspired such classics as the Indiana Jones trilogy (may it ever be blessed). By golly, these “24″ guys have it down to a formula, and I do not use the word casually. They know just where to put the story beats; how to keep up the pace while giving the audience an occasional (very occasional) breather; how to ratchet up the tension in each episode to an almost unendurable level. And making brilliant use of that oh-so-clever “real time” gimmick, they even know how to stuff what would otherwise be minute-wasting travel time—Jack in his SUV rushing from point A to point B—in the commercial breaks that are paying for the show. (The commercial breaks which, let us never forget, are, for many involved in such projects as these, the entire raison d’etre. But more about that anon)

But most of all the writers and directors know the point of highest tension in the immediate episode’s story development, and they position it precisely at 59 minutes and counting on their little digital clock: I mean, there’s no way you’re not coming back to see what happens next time. Not when Jack’s wife Terri and daughter Kim are about to be shot, execution-style; not when (after their third or fourth escape from some kidnapping or murder attempt) the car in which Kim is sitting slips on a soft shoulder and goes end-over-end down a Hollywood hills canyon, ultimately bursting into flames. (Terri, who had just stepped out of the car, collapses in horror nearby.) These guys are so good at this cliff-hanging stuff, so ruthless in their determination to keep us all watching, it’s scary. I’d take my hat off to them, were I wearing one.

I mean, let’s face it: Even when Terri wakes up from the latest horrific trauma with PTSD-induced amnesia, and I begin to suspect that this thing is beginning to resemble not The Bourne Supremacy so much as The Young and the Restless on steroids, I can’t help it, I’ve got to come back. I’ve come to like and sympathize with Terri, and I’ve got to come back to see her find out that Kim is actually all right—after all, the last shot we’ve seen of Kim is one of her rolling down the car window right before the car goes over the edge, so she must be okay…right?

Stay tuned. Next time: The other shoe drops.

Tags: 24, TV