
Dr Graham: ‘It’s an unusual request, Detective. Most people wouldn’t want the bullet that shot them.’
Charlie Crews: ‘Well, someone gave it to me. It’d be rude just to throw it away.’
– Life: Re-entry episode 2.13
And so Life is back, rescuing us from the cliffhanger of Episode 12, which ended with Charlie opening his front door … and getting shot in the chest by an unseen assailant.
Eight weeks later, he’s back on the job – physically fit, seemingly psychologically undamaged, and lying through his teeth to his partner , his ex-partner and his captain about not remembering who shot him.
But who’s got time to worry about little things like that? Crews and Reese have a murder to solve – a former NASA shuttle pilot who landed his light airplane with a bullet in his side, then died.
It’s a fairly standard investigation, and it proceeds with a few neat little twists and turns, nicely handled, cleverly spun out – but the Murder du Jour ain’t why I watch this cop show. It’s Charlie Crews and his intensely personal mission that keep me hooked. The more he learns about who and why he was framed for a brutal triple murder, the less Charlie understands. The more stones he kicks over, the more unanswered questions he finds. Right now he knows only one thing: that a ruthless crime boss is a key player in this mystery. A crime boss who thinks nothing of threatening an FBI agent’s family so he’ll shoot an innocent cop who’s kicking over too many stones.
There are two striking scenes in this episode of Life, and they’re connected. First of all, we see Charlie sitting alone in his enormous, virtually unfurnished mansion, melting down the bullet that was dug out of his chest – and recasting it into a new bullet for his own service weapon. As he does this, his weapon and his detective’s shield are on the table beside him. And playing in the tape deck is his Zen cassette, its soothing male voice lecturing about seeking forgiveness and seeking to do harm. As the bullet is completed, the voice says: Calm. Silent. At peace. One. And we see that Charlie is exactly that. Intimately familiar with creating tools of violence, he’s utterly serene.
The second scene reveals why he recast the bullet, and why he’s listening to a Zen tape about forgiveness and hurting people – because we see Charlie kick his way into FBI Agent Bodner’s home and shoot him in the leg. And yes, that’s the bullet Bodner shot into Charlie’s chest in his home. Ah, symmetry. How very Zen.
But then, with the hurting people taken care of, next comes forgiveness. Because Charlie is an observant man. He notices the empty takeout cartons, and all the family photos, and the conspicuous absence of Bodner’s family. And that’s when he understands – Bodner was threatened. Bodner might well be an innocent man plunged into an impossible situation. So he leaves, ordering the agent to get in touch once his thigh has healed, and not to throw out the bullet.
The central conceit of this show is that nothing is as it appears on the surface. Captain Tidwell initially comes off as a bit of womanizing sleaze – but now it would seem his feelings for Detective Reese are genuine. When we first met Reese, she appeared to be a self-inflicted screw-up – and then we learn that not only was she addicted to cocaine on an undercover narcotics case, but that her father was less than cuddly, and is involved with Charlie’s framing. Ted Early, who for a time was in prison with Charlie, was guilty of insider trading – and yet is sent back there under false pretences to punish Charlie, where he shows us that he truly is a good, decent man.
And then there’s Charlie. The patrol cop framed for murder, who was sentenced to life, was eventually exonerated, and walked away a free, rich man with a shiny new gold detective’s shield. Who has sworn an oath to uphold the law – and who both protects and breaks that same law without blinking. Charlie, who listens to Zen tapes about peace and love and acceptance, and yet with one phone call can enlist the aid of murderers to protect his friend Ted while he’s stuck in prison on bogus drug charges. Charlie, whose serene and hippy-dippy public face hides truths and experiences so painful, so ugly, that we’re not sure if he’s looked at them fully himself. Charlie, who has been changed irrevocably by his years of incarceration. Who might well be, in the end, a more frightening man than one who could commit a brutal triple murder – and who, on the surface, appears so sweet and kind and safe.
There’s never been a cop show quite like Life. My fingers are crossed that the journey continues for a good while yet.
One final thought on the latest episode: Richard Speight, Jnr, is the actor cast to play the murder victim’s son. Is it coincidence, or a sly dig, that the character’s name was Dean, and that Speight plays the pagan Trickster god on Supernatural – where one of the lead characters is Dean? Trivial brains want to know …
Pictured: Damian Lewis as Charlie Crews — NBC Photo: Paul Drinkwater
Pictured: (l-r) Sarah Shahi as Dani Reese, Damian Lewis as Charlie Crews — NBC Photo: Mitchell Haaseth



Sat, Feb 7, 2009
Columns