After a one month break, Burn Notice hits the airwaves again tonight. Watching Burn Notice is one of my guilty pleasures. It’s not a guilty pleasure because it’s overtly sexy. It’s a guilty pleasure because, well, it’s not PBS. It’s a shoot-out, blow-‘em-up extravaganza. I ask myself, "would a person of serious intellect and refinement truly be caught dead watching it?"
Even more, the primary male lead, Jeffrey Donovan, has had a couple of roles playing an extremely unpleasant jerk. In Hitch, he plays the ever-smarmy, Vance Munson, whose primary goal is to score one night stands. In Crossing Jordan, he plays an oily but charming attorney whose interference wreaks havoc in two murder investigations. He plays the charming creep so well, it’s hard to believe that at least a little bit of true sliminess doesn’t inhabit the man himself. And yet, I’m still a fan.
To me, what appeals is that the leads are attractive 40-somethings. It means that, just because you clock over to 40 doesn’t mean you have to let yourself go. You can still be fit and attractive. Woot! Just watching an episode makes me want to do a gnarly workout and dive into a cup of yogurt. It’s really hard to just lay on the sofa and watch Michael Westen scheming and fighting his way out of danger. It’s the kind of TV that’s meant to be watched on a treadmill or elliptical trainer.
The storyline has worn a little thin in the past season but it still beats reality TV. I guess I prefer to lose myself in a well-constructed story than watch acquired fame turn a normal person’s life inside out. There’s something horrible about reality TV—feasting on the emotion of a person’s lost dream or painful rejection. I just can’t do it.
So, tonight, I’ll be at the gym, eagerly awaiting the latest installment of Burn Notice.
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