Person of Interest

It’s amazing the shit you let slide when you like a show. PERSON OF INTEREST is absurd on practically every level but I enjoy it. It’s THE EQUALIZER meets BIG BROTHER. Holes in the storytelling you could drive a 380-Airbus through yet I watch anyway. In fact, part of the fun is recognizing the gaping craters and being amused by them.

Let’s explore a few, shall we?

The major conceit is that Finch (Michael Emerson, who is the Meryl Streep of creepy fun) somehow developed this “machine” that is forever surveying everyone in New York and predicts crimes and victims. How does it do this? That’s never really been spelled out. Domino pizza receipts are compared with deliveries in known terrorist cells, that sort of thing. Okay, a little stretch, but if you’re saying there’s a computer that analyzes billions of bits of information and draws conclusions, I’m willing to go along. Especially since (a) we’re in a post 9-11 world, and (b) I don’t live in New York so this contraption is not spying on me.

Side note: I never understand why super villains and terrorists all bother to live in New York since that’s where the superheroes and “machines” are. Why doesn’t the Green Goblin operate out of Arizona? Let’s see Spiderman swing from building to building in Tucson.

But I digress…

Finch’s machine is hooked up to a complex network of surveillance cameras that essentially covers every square-foot of Manhattan. Wow! How much would something like that cost? How many cameras would have to be installed? Which home alarm company gets that sweet contract? How many maintenance guys would have to be on duty 24-7 to fix all the cameras that go on the fritz? Are they union?

And don’t get me started on the legality issues.

But those are just quibbles. Here’s the whopper:

THIS IS ALL A SECRET.

Two million cameras were requisitioned, installed, and tested and no one knows about it. I imagine we’re supposed to feel comforted that all terrorists who live in Tribeca can be tracked and identified, but if you stop and think about it – how utterly incompetent is our country that someone could install two million video cameras completely under our nose?

Like I said, absurd to the nth degree, but if you’re a fan of the show you just chalk it up to “creative license.”

Finch’s partner is Mr. Reese (Jim Caviezel), a former CIA agent/Green Beret/Jesus Christ. He never speaks more than two lines of dialogue at a time and delivers each line as if it were a clue. “Do you have… ketchup?” English is his second language. Cryptic is his first. And I find it hilarious that no one calls him on it. In reality: “Do you have…ketchup?” “Yeah. Why you talking like that? Are you a spy?”

Reese and Finch stay in touch via hands-free undetectable phones. Apparently they also provide a cone of silence because Reese is always talking in a normal voice even when he’s on a stakeout or hiding from someone. Either that or he only follows dangerous deaf people. Still, I’m fine with it.

But my favorite scene of the year so far came in a recent episode (I don’t know the date it aired, I DVR this stuff. I don’t even know what day the show is on.) Charles Widmore from LOST is back in town, now with a German accent, shooting people. Reese is too late. He enters an apartment to find a newly shot guy sitting on a chair. Reese decides to poke around. He’s not wearing gloves. He rummages through drawers and even PICKS UP THE GUN. Meanwhile, on CSI: NEW YORK they’re tying murders to a molecule left behind by a killer, but Reese can juggle the murder weapon without becoming a suspect. I’m sorry. Today’s sitcoms don’t make me laugh like that.

For now PERSON OF INTEREST is a guilty pleasure. But I worry. How long until they do something so ridiculous that even I throw up my hands? Or worse, what if they do something that’s actually plausible? Guess the best thing is to just enjoy it while I can, knowing full well that sooner or later its number will be up.