An Homage to the Best of Detective/Investigator Shows–CSI:Miami

An Homage to the Best of Detective/Investigator Shows–CSI:Miami by Roxanne McDonald

This piece is not about the psychological underpinnings of a dreamer but is rather an homage to the addictive show, CSI: Miami, to the actors on CSI: Miami, especially the brilliant, darling perfectly balanced star of the show, David Caruso.

When you wake up and realize you have been dreaming about David Caruso and Tom Cruise and other high-end players in Hollywood, you know it’s time for some self-analysis. Some assert that to dream of celebrities (when you are not one yourself) is to suffer from an over-inflated ego. Others, myself included, believe that such dreams are powerful testaments to having a healthy and positive self-esteem.

Anyway, this piece is not about the psychological underpinnings of a dreamer but is rather an homage to the addictive show, CSI: Miami, to the actors on CSI: Miami, especially the brilliant, darling perfectly balanced star of the show, David Caruso.

First, while the concept and design of the show is nothing new—detective/investigation shows being a hugely popular viewing genre as far back (and further) as Perry Mason, the Green Hornet, and even Batman—the special effects employed raise the bar on such types. CSI: Miami is Miami Vice (obviously) on megavitamins (thought I was going to write “steroids,” right?).

Following, usually, two story lines which take us viewers through two crime scenes, as the crime scene investigators study evidence, deductively evaluate possibilities, and track potential suspects, they will 1) define and describe forensic processes to each other, as if educating a colleague but at the same time actually educating us; and 2) will reconstruct likely scenarios.

As one of these two things is happening, the visuals parallel the dialogue…so that not only if the suspects are thought to have poisoned, fought with, or somehow hurt another, the scene cuts to a grainy or shadowy narrative re-enactment as the CSI discusses or tells it, but also, the technical and physical harm incurred is replayed: if the victim is asphyxiated, for example, the image is of an open and gasping mouth, then of the throat, then of the air passageways (as they might really look if were inside them) speedily constricting.

The sound effects are equally moving, enhancing the visuals in a way that makes us viewers feel like we are back on that kid ship that journeys inside the human body, in that Dennis Quaid flick where he is accidentally injected into Martin Short’s ass (though CSI: Miami is by no means in the same humor as Innerspace).

But the special filmic techniques are only enhanced by the absolutely stellar performances of the main characters of CSI: Miami. As Calleigh Duquesne, Emily Procter portrays a focused, relentless investigator, who, joined with the thoughtful Eric Delko, played by Adam Rodriguez, and the industrious Ryan Wolfe, played by Jonathan Togo (replacing the mush-missed Speedle, or “Speed”), make for a dynamic indoor/outdoor team who get their guy or guys every time.

Probably more provocative or evocative is the unflappable Dr. Alexx Woods, played by Khadi Alexander. Not only is she not disturbed by the blood and guts and boiling of body parts to extract information from the cadavers, but Woods’ character is peculiarly sentimental in the most endearing of ways: especially when the dead are young people, she talks to them, cooing sympathetically how the teen, “poor baby” didn’t have a chance, etc.. It’s always a most poignant moment when the forensics expert speaks lovingly while she drills a skull, peels back a flap of flesh, or digs into soft organs for a bug or worm.

And it must be said how the part of Detective Yalina Salas, played by Sofia Milos, is a necessary balancing addition, one that establishes a very subtle sexual tension that at the same time does in no way compromise the beautiful and cutting edge savvy Salas’ effectiveness as a CSI.

However, the most engaging, endearing, moving performances are saved for the star of the show (though there are no single stars, I know, I know….).

 

David Caruso, playing Lieutenant Horatio Caine (a name which inevitably calls up mutinies and Shakespearean philosophies, action and drama and thought and pain at once) is the coolest, the most threatening and most beneficent man at the same time.

He has the finesse of a Bogart Sam Spade, has the depth of Hamlet, and shows the loving sensitivity toward victims that no TV detective has yet to display.

The writers of CSI: Miami of course give him the keenest comebacks and the most graceful of soliloquies or lectures,

but Caruso is the one who shapes the sensibilities of a head crime scene investigator who can pick off with one shot the kidnapper holding a hostage within inches of his head that gets plugged by Caruso’s/ Caine’s 35 mm; Caruso is the one who can intuit an impending explosion and with quiet, pointed command get his men and women out of harm’s way; and Caruso is the one who, looking at the surviving crime victim with his heart-breaking concerned hang-dog look can pull off the verisimilitude of his character’s letting refugees go home, helping families find money, blood match donors, or help in general, or volunteering (without words but with self-deprecating action and urging of his staff) to rebuild a store front that has just been blown out by neo-nazis who hate Hispanic store owners.

There is always that street-beaten and abused face, at the end of every CSI: Miami episode, looking condolingly or consolingly but never defeatedly—back at a grateful survivor, over at his fellow CSIs, or out at the possibilities resting on the horizon or in the backdrop setting of the city, the swamps, or the seashore.

And, of course, the sexy lieutenant puts on his sunglasses, signaling the episodic end with his hallmark gesture…one that only adds to all the reasons we who are so in love with him we dream about him.

 

 

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