Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Season 8, 9-10 and 10-11: On further reflection

In an off-line conversation, I discussed whether Kant would busy himself with watching 24.  Notwithstanding my standing distrust of anyone who claims to know what another person would think based on published papers and reports (e.g., "Kant's response to Plantinga would be ..."), I think (those 2 simple words ameliorates my mistrust of myself; I'm not claiming I know what Kant would do; I'm clearly stating it's merely my opinion!) Kant would have a blast watching 24.  First, its exploration of the subtleties of blackmail, threats, lying, and torture--trying for all its worth to find a way that can justify their use would give him fabulous test cases for his Categorical Imperative.  I bet Kant's imagination, as brilliant as he was, never dreamed up the variations we see in just one episode!

Then there's the show's fascination with time.  It goes way deeper than "the events of the show happen in real time."  Or Keifer's voiceover "the following events occur between 10 pm and 11 pm."  We have the digital clock counting to the second before and after every commercial.  And throughout the show, in every episode, we're told how long at least on thing will take.  I'm not sure why the writers do that.  It adds very little to my viewing experience.  Maybe it's another example of throw-away suspense.  Maybe it's supposed to highlight that the show happens in real time.  All I think it does for me is remind me I'm watching 24.  Like seeing Jack's nervous twitches (come to think of it, he's not so twitchy this year.  Is it really him???  Now there's a plot-switcheroo that I'd never see coming!  Doppelganger-Jack!  He is posing as a German afterall.  But maybe it's just that he's been outta the biz for 4 years, learning to be a grandpa, and he's calmed down).  So Kant, such an incredible thinker, thinking such incredibly intricate, complex, interconnected thoughts, so time conscious (apocryphally, townsfolk set their clocks by his daily walks, which he missed only once after he got so excited by the ideas in Rousseau's Emile), probably would have eaten this stuff up (like a monkey on a cupcake?--words with "k"s in them--always funny, Sunshine)!

Now, on to what I didn't think to do last night.  Here's Branaugh's Crispin's speech in Henry V.  Cliffs says Branagh's version of Henry V is anti-war, or at least maybe as anti-war as you can do Henry V.  I'm not sure I see much of the anti-war, but I applaud him if he at least tried to approach it that way.  Still a rousing speech, applicable in fields far afield from war.

Then there's Chekov's gun, rather knife last night.  Let's play follow the knife.  Where did knife in the late Russian's neck come from?  Jack's belly.  Where did the knife in Jack's belly come from?  Renee's hand.  Where did the knife in Renee's hand come from?  Vlad's torso (I'll let "..." cover the over and over and over part here) ... Where did the knife in Renee's hand come from?  The floor.  Where did the knife on the floor come from?  The bread.  "What bread?" you ask.  The bread that Vlad asked Renee to cut for him and Jack.  At the time, it seemed simply Vlad showing his power over Renee and perhaps using the display to gauge Meier's (Jack's) reaction: "I see the way you look at her."  In hindsight, a pretty good use of Chekov (don't think the resemblance of the blog is anything more than superficial), maybe even the conflict becoming the solution, but of course with the 24 twist (that no one escapes the day unscathed, all are scarred for life at the end). Sphere: Related Content

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