Despite cackling delightedly at jokes like, "He is an inspiration to masturbation. He is the George Washington of jacking off," it turns out Hefner was oddly squeamish and circumspect about one thing: There were rumors he didn't want the Sept. 11 tragedy mentioned in the final broadcast -- ironic, since according to roaster Rob Schneider, "Tonight, we're here to honor a man who personifies why these terrorists hate us."

But as Kimmel said, "I could go on and on, but what can be said about Hef that hasn't already been mumbled incoherently by a thousand young women with his [BLEEP] in their mouths?"

Tuesday, Nov. 6

Fox's "24" premieres tonight, after some reshuffling and the removal of an image of an exploding plane, bombed by a terrorist. The show centers on the very busy and complicated professional and personal life of Counter Terrorist Unit officer and frantic-yet-sensitive boomer Jack Bauer (Kiefer Sutherland), and its gimmick is that it's supposed to unfold in real time. Twenty-four episodes will cover the 24 hours it will take Jack to prevent the assassination of Senator David Palmer, the first black candidate with a real shot at the White House, on the morning of the California primary.

It's a lot to pack into an hour. The superslick action starts at midnight (Pacific Standard Time) with a man in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, opening a suitcase containing all his telecommunications needs. A satellite moves. Thanks to the phone and computer in his Samsonite, the man is able to alert another man of an imminent attack on Senator Palmer just before angry people start banging on his door. Meanwhile, Senator Palmer is in Los Angeles, writing a speech and loving his wife, as Jack Bauer plays chess with a hot young babe who turns out to be his high-schooler daughter. Moments later, Kim and a friend sneak out to meet a couple of college guys in the Valley; but before Jack can use his counterterrorism skills to track her down, he's alerted to the alerts and called back into work. His goal: to prevent the assassination of the first black senator with a shot at the White House on the morning of the California primaries. His complication: Where's Kimmy? Our problem: Premature exhaustion.

Fox has borrowed the split-screen technique from Mike Figgis' "Time Code," though, mercifully, has not attempted to show parallel narratives happening simultaneously on the screen -- a technique that Figgis pioneered in his film like the Donner party pioneered the Rockies. Fox, being Fox, considers the concept of "real time" slightly elastic. Within minutes, young Kim is partying in an empty furniture store in the Valley and Jack's wife, Teri, is hopping into a car with Kim's friend's dad, looking for the girls. If this is real time, either it takes much less time to drive around L.A. than I remember or Counter Terrorist Unit officers don't live in the choicest neighborhoods. Personally, I think watching Kiefer Sutherland -- who comes across as a likable pot-bellied surfer boy -- having to go to the bathroom at a crucial moment, or getting a really bad itch, or lingering in front of his closet would make the show better. But turbo-pacing, spy-movie dialogue, hot-chick secret agents (and hot-chick assistants, wives, computer experts and daughters), walls of jargon and clichéd interpersonal relationships aside, "24" could turn out to be fun.

Jack, who may or may not have cheated on his wife with his lacquer-lipped chief of staff, Nina (whom he nonetheless treats to a lecture on compromise), suffers from the usual boomer anguish in both his personal life (he gave his daughter her own e-mail password to show he trusted her, and now she's sneaking out and smoking pot!) and his professional life (he trusted his own people, and they turned out to be "dirty!"). We later learn that Jack is not above shooting a district director in the leg with a tranquilizer dart and blackmailing him for information. Fighting terrorism isn't pretty, we're supposed to gather.

Meanwhile -- it's always "meanwhile" on "24," the show where more things happen than everything else on TV put together -- a creepy photographer on a plane turns out to be just a creepy photographer. Don't get us started on the hot chick next to him.

Meanwhile, Senator Palmer gets a phone call from a news anchor, wanting a response to certain "allegations." Wouldn't his staff be helping him out on calls like this?

Meanwhile, Teri is driving around the Valley with a stranger past midnight.

Meanwhile, Kim's new friends won't take her home.

Meanwhile, Jack has resolved to track them down.

Meanwhile, a 747 explodes.

The screen splits again: A worried senator, a worried dad, a worried mom, a worried kid, am extremely peeved district director, a hot but psychotic killer approaching ... I feel nervous. Did I leave the coffee maker on?

Distractedly,

Carina

Recent Stories