Deirdre Reilly: What's with these TV detectives?
If you enjoy TV detective shows, you may be wondering what I am wondering: What is the deal with TV detectives?
Aside from the frankly unbelievable ability to solve crimes in about 48 minutes, they really look great doing it. Too good, in fact.
The rumpled detective of the past like forgetful, raincoated Columbo, gruff, overweight Cannon and the bald, lolly-poppin' Kojak are in the past, baby. Now, detectives are styled, wild, and have very noticeable bosoms (just the female ones - I mentioned Cannon was gone.) How are we supposed to believe they are solving crimes, when they look that good?
If I were a detective, here's how I think it would go:
(Open scene) Deirdre Reilly, big city detective, searches for her cell phone, which she can never find. She hopes she didn't leave it at Target. She must call her partner, Dirk Drendon, to tell him that she has been up all night agonizing over the murder they are investigating, and she thinks she may have stumbled on a lead, using only her Scrabble board, her wits, and three pots of black coffee.
Her hair is disheveled and unwashed, and she has red, swollen eyes, because she has been crying for their "vic" all night. She no longer goes to the gym due to the demands of her job, and lives on Subway subs, pizza, and Kit Kats, her biggest vice.
She has gained about 15 pounds from her current lifestyle, and the last haircut she had was courtesy of Supercuts, on a break from a stakeout. She has not had a decent date in years, and mainly reads a lot; mushy romance novels.
She has been warned by her superior, one Lieutenant Ablebody, that if she doesn't stop taking each case so seriously, she will have to see the department shrink, and log some therapy hours. She wishes sometimes, staring out at the city skyline, that she had gone into retail, which was the plan after college. Build-A-Bear would have been nice. (Close scene)
Now, here's the same scene, in a top-rated detective show, Law and Order: CMO. ( Law and Order: Check Me Out!):
Detective Deirdre Reilly bounces into the squad, boasting a hot pair of low-riding jeans and a killer silk imported blouse, the buttoning of which she has worked on all morning, in order to expose the tops of her uplifted, well-sculpted breasts. Her breasts are so prominent and toned, they are like mini-detectives, working with her to solve crime.
Her Botox went well, thank heavens, and her hair has been freshly streaked and straightened, and even though she is 40-something, hangs down to her waist. Her badge is clipped to her hip in a very appealing way, and her gun looks ominous in her manly holster. She just might shoot somebody, baby! She has a past she is dealing with!
Her partner Dirk Drendon walks in, fresh from the gym, where he does most of his thinking. Deirdre stretches out like Cat Woman on the edge of Dirk's desk, making sure her breasts are angled in towards Dirk, so they can hear what he has to say, too.
"We need to get this guy, Dirk," Deirdre says, her hair swaying towards Dirk. Dirk nods solemnly, and says, "Have we got the DNA analysis yet? Do we have fibers, hair, and blood samples, and some other things I can't mention on TV because it will make viewers want to throw up, but I will anyway?"
Deirdre stretches out even more - man, her legs look good in these jeans! She should have brought her notes with her, though, if they were going to discuss the case. Oh well, she can probably remember everything the witness said. Or her breasts might remember things, too.
She looks off into the distance, and thinks about just wearing a bra into work, instead of her blouses - they get in the way, sometimes. She and Dirk stare out at the city together, barely thinking. (Close scene).
I blame Angie Dickenson for all this; remember Pepper Anderson, the sexy detective who click-clacked her way into crime scenes on some very glittery heels? Oh, Cagney and Lacey, where have you gone? Please report to the squad room immediately - we need you back!