CSI: a loveletter
Who knows why I came so late to this juicy forensic party. But I’m definitely in the game now. Was it the intensely focused, true grit face of Gary Sinise that sucked me in? Partly. Was it the collage of digitized blood cells cross-cut with two or three up close and personal autopsies? Yup. It was also the cast (I’m talkin’ the NY version now) of attractively weary cops and coroners who swipe the bodily fluids, chase the slimeballs and celebrate, briefly, over their laptops before hunting the bad guys, ex-wives and drug lord scumbags all over again.
I adore these people – and it’s possible that I love the forensic nerds, dominatrices, and haggard detectives of the CSI Las Vegas branch even more. I even got my mom turned onto Sinise and his angry Boy Scout looks — as she reminded me, “there’s nothing wrong with watching a bunch of cute guys.”
So naturally I was so totally bent out of shape when my resident guy remarked, way too casually, that the show was “just a formula.” (more…)
