MEMORY LANE: REMEMBERING "CSI"

New year, new ideas. This Monday, the first of 2023, I am inaugurating a new series within this blog. In it I will be looking back at the television series, mini-series, video games and cultural what-not of yesteryear: some still enormously famous, others half-or-completely forgotten. It's a pretty straightforward assignment, but that last word requires some clarification on my part. “Yesteryear” is a word used nostalgically, with a reverence for the past which may or may not be justified: in MEMORY LANE, if I allow myself the luxury of nostalgia, it is because I feel nostalgia plays a role in the enjoyment and the retroactive perception of the series in question. I will strive to separate these feelings from my objective analysis of the show.

I should also like to add here that as someone who lived and worked in Hollywood for thirteen years and still keeps a hand, or at least a few fingers, lightly dipped in the game, I am occasionally going to be to cite examples from my personal experience or knowledge which I feel will add to my examination. It may be that I worked on the show myself in some capacity or knew people who did. On the other hand, it may be that I have no special knowledge whatsoever of the subject of which I speak and am merely coming from a viewer's perspective. In either event I will state the location of my perspective clearly.

That having been said, let's get this (sorry) show on the road, and begin by looking back at “CSI.”

Some shows come out of nowhere to achieve cultural dominance. “CSI” was no such phenomenon. Before the pilot had even been produced it was already one of the hottest properties in Hollywood, with actors fighting to land an audition, and seems almost destined to have become a hit, though the actual impact of the show was something no would could possibly have guessed. Created by Anthony Zuicker, “CSI” tapped into a burgeoning interest in the field of forensic science which initially began with "Quincy" in 1974, but really took off in popular culture after "The Silence of the Lambs" was made into a hit film in 1991. “CSI” harnessed itself to this trend, but in a distinct way. Featuring an ensemble cast, it was first and foremost a procedural, with the characters serving as agents of the story, and the stories themselves as mystery boxes which could only be unlocked through the application of forensic science. Audiences would get to know the characters well enough, but only in terms of their reactions to events and the way their personalities affected their methods of investigation. Science was to be the star, technology its co-star.

This is not to say that “CSI” lacked memorable characters. On the contrary, in Gil Grissom (William Petersen) it created one of the greatest television detectives of all time. Unlike the volatile, haunted, mentally unstable Will Graham of Michael Mann's “Manhunter” (1985), which Petersen also portayed, Grissom was conceived as a brilliant, eccentric loner, emotionally removed from his cases and to some extent his colleagues, obsessed with science as a thing-in-itself. In his own way he became a modern take on Sherlock Holmes: seemingly sexless, uninterested in money, fame or titles (he was a Ph.D. but seldom used the handle), he sometimes came off as an intellect trapped unwillingly in a human body. Nonetheless, he carried an air of pathos about him, a sense, on some level, of wanting but being unable to connect with his fellow human beings. Likewise, the original supporting characters, Kathryn Willows (Marg Helgenberger), Nick Stokes (George Eads), Warrick Brown (Gary Dourdan), Sara Sidle (Jorja Fox) and Jim Brass (Paul Guilfoyle), all found their favorites among adoring audiences, as much for their flaws as their merits: Willows was hotly defensive, territorial and intolerant of criticism, Stokes overly cocky and immature, Brown a short-tempered junkie gambler, Sidle emotionally unstable and needy, and Brass often just a plain, old-fashioned jerk.

Rewatching the first season, what struck me was how the show in its first episodes both resembled and differed with the show which was to come. The show was written at a fairly high level from the pilot episode, with an emphasis on wordplay and snappy dialog, often laced with double entendres, cultural references and jokes, one example being:

GRISSOM: (observing a rave) Teenage wasteland.
BROWN: Who?
GRISSOM: Exactly.

There was also an immediate attempt to define the show's basic premise through exposition delivered by Grissom, who is tirelessly preaching to his investigators that “evidence can't lie,” that the CSI's were “scientists, not detectives” and that personal feelings only muddle the process. Pushback to this comes primarily from Willows, who is equally obsessed with “why” rather than “how” and often allows her emotions to become entangled in her work. The tension of this dynamic drove the series from the pilot. Everyone quested for truth, but how they arrived was not always by the same path.

The characters established in the pilot stayed remarkably constant from that point, Grissom being an exception and Sara a smaller one. Grissom is initially more emotional and “human.” Sara is sexier and more facetious. As time went on, the former divested himself of some of his humanity while the latter became angrier, touchier, more unstable. The other characters, including a whole series of lesser characters who were elevated to full-time status (Doc, Ecklie, Super Dave, Hodges) were allowed to develop over time, but retained their initial personalities and stayed true to them.

“CSI” later became famous, and somewhat notorious, for its lavish, atmospheric set design and its habit of “painting with light” to produce luridly beautiful visual landscapes which were also somewhat cartoonish. The initial episodes do not reflect this. The CIS lab is depicted and lighted realistically, as a ramshackle government building. Atmosphere is created by contrasting bright light with deep shadow. This attempt at realism is generally in keeping with the way the CSIs are actually depicted as such, with large liberties taken in the scope of their powers for the purposes of drama, but the emphasis being on forensic science. Before long, however, the show began to deliberately blur the line between crime scene investigation and police work, so that in later seasons one would assume a CSI and a police officer were essentially the same thing. The CSIs interrogate suspects, chase them down alleys, draw guns and use them. They direct investigations rather than assisting with them, and are often seen ordering around cops like coolies. This heightened the drama at the expense of any sense of realism, but it did not in any way effect the show's watchability.

As CSI aged, it became more self-conscious of its cultural impact – the famous “CSI effect,” which actually reached real-life jury rooms (I have seen it firsthand in law enforcement), and in-jokes began to appear in the scripts. Nods and winks, borderline breaks in the fourth wall. It also became increasingly slick, sometimes to the point of greasiness. The dialog remained snappy and memorable, but was often constructed to produce affect, i.e., written for its sound and catchiness, rather than for its substance and content. More and more, the solving of mysteries involved the use of scientific techniques so sophisticated and unrealistic they bordered on the magical. This trend was to continue to the series finale, where bees are employed to catch a killer, and became rather a joke among audiences, and not always a kind-spirited one. The world of “CSI” began as a Hollywood take on forensic investigation. Suspension of disbelief was required but minimal. It ended as something of a fantasy.

One formula “CSI” adopted in the first season and never abandoned were over-arching stories about ingenious, elusive serial killers, sometimes lasting multiple seasons. The best of these, and the most memorable, was the Miniature Killer storyline, which went on for years and was by and largely extremely well-handled, though it also started a troubling trend of introducing serial murderers who also seem to have unlimited financial resources as well as advanced technical knowledge of just about every subject imaginable. By the end of “CSI,” this concluded in its logical absurdity, where the serial is in fact also a billionaire: but for a long time, it worked and worked well.

An unexpected element of the show was the development of a disaster-plagued romance between Grissom and Sara. This romance was handled deftly and in small installments, so it rarely seemed to be intruding into the show's procedural format. Petersen and Fox had very good chemistry together, and the particular nature of their romance – spiritual rather than physical, one might say – was in keeping with their character's personalities. Audiences began to root hard for these two to find their happily ever after.

The decline and fall of Warrick Brown was another tenent of the show which seemed true to life. Brown was depicted from the start as a first-rate investigator who often fell victim to his many personal demons. Gary Dourdan did fine work in this regard, and George Eads as well, in his role as a man trying to stop his best friend from disintegrating. Eads' Nick Stokes was in many ways the most realistically depicted of all the characters, because of the genuine way he reacted, emotionally, to trauma despite his cocky attitude: in one episode he weeps and begins to beg for mercy when a killer points a gun in his face. A lesser show would have had him spewing fake tough-guy dialog. Eads' face when suddenly confronted with possible death is beautifully depicted, and made us like and relate to him.

The effect of trauma on the characters is not ignored. Sara is as much a victim of what she sees as the victims themselves, and ultimately falls apart under the constant exposure to the visceral horror of crime scenes. It's true that when Jorja Fox returned full-time to the series after leaving for several years, she seems strangely unaffected and apart, a sort of android version of herself, but repeating this storyline would have been pointless.

The diversity of the characters was perhaps best reflected in those of Brass and Sanders. The former was a cynical, acid-tongued veteran cop who often quarreled with the CSIs (particularly Brown); the latter was a geeky lab rat who was convinced he was cool but had trouble convincing anyone else. The character of Brass deepened over time: he developed an abiding respect for the scientists he once despised and even formed lasting friendships among them, friendships which allowed him to endure terrible personal disasters in the show's later seasons. Sanders, on the other hand, evolved from a facteious and immature “counterculture kid” into a seasoned professional tested by personal tragedy.

“CSI” was set in Las Vegas, and serves not only the stage for the series but also a character. Though shot mainly in Valencia, Cailfornia, Vegas was simulated brilliantly through a combinaton of matching locations, green screens, second unit photography, and actual visits to the city. Many storylines revolved around Vegas-centric themes such as the casinos, gambling, nightlife and tourism, while others delve into Vegas's history, which is interwoven with greed, corruption and organized crime. Still others examine the city off the Strip, alternatively lavish, prosaic or crime-ridden. The portrayal is usually glamorous and sexy, but there is never any effort to hide the squalor and vice which seethes beneath the glow of the neon.

Ultimately, however, the setting was mere set dressing. The driving theme of “CSI” was the quest for truth. That one must follow the evidence, and while the evidence could not lie, it could be misinterpreted. Technology and procedure could produce data, but human beings had to make the conclusions. The show was a constant tension between head and heart, logic and passion, reason and instinct. The shallowness and frivolity of the city are belied by the grim and almost sacred work performed by the team.

All long-running shows have eras. “CSI” had three: the Petersen Era, the Fishburne Interlude, and the Danson Era. The first, which lasted about nine seasons, was unarguably the best. During that time the original cast with its fine chemistry remained intact, the quality of the stories remained strong, and the scripts were consistent. It is this part of the show that one tends to think of when one thinks of “CSI” at all. However, in a short period of time between seasons eight and nine there was a cast reshuffle in which Petersen and Dourdan left and Lawrence Fishburne arrived, and after that it was essentially a game of musical chairs. Jorja Fox left, returned, left and then returned. Marg Helgenberger left. Paul Guilfoyle was written out for budgetary reasons. Fishburne was shown the door after barely two years and replaced with Ted Danson. Minor characters were elevated to full-time status and then left themselves. New characters were written in with limited success. By the final season, of the truly original cast from the pilot; only George Eads remained, and technically he was fired at the end of it, though since there was no season sixteen his firing meant only that he failed to appear in the series finale the following year. Some continuity was maintained in the form of George Szmanda, Robert David Hall, Wallace Langham, etc., but by this time the show was more popcorn entertainment than anything else. It remained curiously addictive right to the end, but began to lack resonance and relied on increasingly preposterous plots and scientific maguffins to carry the day. Danson's performance was sound, but the show remained haunted by the ghost of Grissom, and quite wisely, he figured prominently in the series two-hour finale.

So where does “CSI” stand in retrospect?

Watching it over again, what struck me at once was how right it was, how well it worked, how completely it hit what it aimed at and achieved its intended effect. All series are unstable at their beginnings: they seek to discover what Dirk Benedict once referred to as their “spine,” the structure by which they will ultimately become known. During this process some shows change almost out of recognition. Yet “CSI” required remarkably little in the way of adjustment, and most of that was purely aesthetic. I had a very long meeting with Anthony Zuicker once, and what struck me about him was his absolute self-belief, his arrogant cigar-chewing confidence in the stories he wanted to tell and the way he wanted to tell them. That sort of attitude can be dangerous, and it is true that Zuicker has never again reached the heights he scaled with “CSI,” but it is also true that where this series was concerned, it was the right attitude. His dream became a billion-dollar empire with massive cultural impact, and to climb that mountain twice is perhaps asking too much of the universe. He created characters which will stick forever in the mind of those who witness them, and one, Gil Grissom, who has become an icon of crime fiction, beloved by millions.

Looking back, there is, too a certain nostalgia to be found, especially in the early seasons, when the technology is so visibly dated. I keenly remember the optimisic pre-9/11 world we see in the first season or two so keenly and fondly it brings me physical pain. Likewise, when I see how youthful the characters look at the outset: I had occaison to meet and speak with several cast members in more recent years, and to contrast them as middle or late-middle-aged men, with their younger, polished, eager selves is jarring in the way that looking at photos of yourself in high school is jarring. But what really strikes me now is the show's devotion to logic and reason, to scientific principles, to the idea that objective truth exists and will eventually out: Grissom's mantra that one must abandon personal prejudice, follow the facts, and trumpet the conclusions even if they violate one's own dearly-held beliefs. In the post-Trump, post-social media world, a world where Bill Nye has yielded to Alex Jones, a world of “alternate facts” on one side and Wokeism on the other, where conspiracy theories are now the cornerstone of major political parties, a world where mathematics are viewed as racist and political ideology is actively attacking the scientific method, such a view strikes me as sadly naive, almost pitiful. “CSI” was popcorn entertainment, but popcorn entertainment with an underlying purpose: to demonstrate that science was sexy and that a hard explanation lay behind every mystery. It was a world that , for all its glitz and mood lightning and woo-woo techie talk, Sherlock Holmes would have understood and identified with. The degree to which that world has vanished in such a short time is frightening, and today's mystery is of a very different variety: is it possible for us to learn how to think logically again? To embrace science? To grasp the importance of hypothesis and empircal data? To accept how little our unexamined, uneducated, uninformed opinions actually matter?

It's a mystery worthy of Gil Grissom himself.