Dexter's Sensitive Side Is Showing, Despite His Best Intentions

.

.

The pilot episode of Dexter promised a plethora of possibilities in regards to character development and subplots. "Crocodile", the second installment in the Showtime series,

not only fulfills those promises, but twists the show in unexpected directions.

.

If Dexter is about anything, it's about duality, and "Crocodile" homes in on that premise from a number of angles. Firstly, there's Dexter himself--forensics expert by day, serial killer by night. But, as explained in the pilot, he sates his bloodlust by killing only really bad people. In "Crocodile," a more fully realized character is emerging. Despite Dexter's claims (largely via voiceovers) that he is incapable of feeling, his actions prove otherwise. He claims that while others would see the anguish of a hit-and-run victim's family as tragic, he views it as an opportunity. When the drunk driver is acquitted, it's apparent whose Dexter's next prey is.

.

Dexter's somewhat unique method of meting out justice has to take a backseat to more pressing matters, though. The Ice Truck Killer continues to taunt Dexter with clues about his own killing spree, playing a twisted cat and mouse game by leaving doll parts in Dexter's freezer, signifying that the killer knows what Dexter does in his spare time. This is one of the threads that sets Dexter apart from other detective series, but by no means the only one.

.

Duality comes into play again when we find that Sgt. Doakes has a motive beyond retribution in his singleminded pursuit of tracking down the killer of a slain undercover cop. And then there's Lt. LaGuerta-- besides her advances to Dexter, why is she so doggedly determined to undermine Deb's investigation of the Ice Truck Killer?

.

"Crocodile" introduces a new potential subplot in its rendering of Cuererro, a Cuban druglord who all the principals know ordered the hit on the undercover cop, but can't--or won't--pursue. The stage is set for more subplots involving police corruption, but that's only speculation on my part.

.

Meanwhile, Dexter's life is growing more complicated, as his sexless relationship with Rita teeters on becoming "meaningful." Despite his protestations to the contrary, his relationship with Rita and her two children, is his only true anchor to reality. Rita, along with Deb, are the only innocents in the storyline, and even that's questionable. We know precious little of the circumstances involving Rita's past. And given that Dexter's foster father Harry inspired Dexter, one has to wonder what kind of tips he passed on to sister Deb.

.

Showtime has high hopes for Dexter, so much so that they're making the first two episodes available on the Web. Of all the new series debuting this season, Dexter stands as the most innovative and challenging. Always witty and somewhat perverse, this is a cop show like no other. If it maintains the pace of the first two episodes, I'm hooked.

.

The Joy of Being Unstuck in Time

.

.

O.H. Krill is a name synonymous with UFOlogy. His, or hers, paper "Our Aquisition of Advanced Technologies and Interaction with Alien Cultures" has been circulated and discussed since the earliest days of the Internet. Apparently, Krill also has a rep as an electro-deejay, if my research is correct.

.

The problem is, O.H. Krill is an enigma whose true identity is as much a subject of speculation as are his/her/their works. It doesn't matter--O.H. Krill's speculations, reportage, fictions--whatever they are--remain fascinating and provocative.

.

In Montauk Babies (or The Many Lives of Al Leedskalnin), Krill looks at life in a world that is literally falling apart. Lavishly illustrated by renowned comics creator and designer John Malloy, this is a graphic novel only in the broadest sense, at least in the popular definition. What Krill and Malloy have created here is a work that transcends categorization. In a story that is part science fiction, part road trip, part conspiracy theory, part social commentary and part quantum philosophy, Montauk Babies ultimately emerges as brilliant satire.

.

It's 2011, and Al Leedskalnin and Peabody Freeman are travelling cross- country in a '73 Buick Riviera, living off fast food and sleeping in whatever Motel6 they encounter. Theirs is not a typical roadtrip, however--the potholes they encounter are inter-dimensional, and cross time and space in a single bound. Al, once a subject in the Montauk, Long Island government experiments of the fifties (which may or may not have actually happened) and Peabody, a quantum physicist, are on more than a drive through the desert, though. Theirs is nothing less than a mission to keep timespace from imploding on itself.

.

It's a disjointed tale, vaguely reminiscent of Vonnegut and Harlan Ellison in its non-linear storytelling. Al and Peabody keep coming unstuck in time, warping in and out of the continuum as they try to maintain their mission. The pacing is breakneck, enhanced by typographical layouts that force the reader to move at whatever gait Krill intends. Too, Malloy's illustrations work as visual recaps of Krill's sometimes maddening prose stylings. The thirty full-page, black and white wash renderings, often perplexing, stand alone as pristine examples of graphic design.

.

Montauk Babies, at a little over a hundred pages, can hardly be considered a novel. But as a novella, it explores our obsession with technology and pop culture, and the consequenses that result from them. It's a fascinating tale that's never preachy and always entertaing. It is anything but a comic book. I'd file it under "social satire," but O.S. Krill may be dead serious here.

.

Whatever the author's intention, Montauk Babies is worth a read. It's a story that will stay with the reader for a while.

Tower Records, RIP

.

.

After its sale yesterday to Great American Group, Tower Records is closing the doors of all of its nearly ninety stores worldwide, effectively ending the reign of record stores as we once knew them. Great American plans to liquidate the chain beginning today with closeout sales across the board. Over 3000 Tower employees will be impacted by the closings.

.

The demise of Tower Records registered barely a pling on the wires and TV news radar. It is, after all, indicative of the shifting buying habits of the music consumer. Between downloads and the big box stores like Wal-Mart and Target, coupled with the harried pace of society today, destination locations such as record stores are relics in their last throes.

.

But is it really that cut and dried?

.

While it is undeniable that the advent of MP3's, music file-swapping and just the outright convenience of the Internet altered the way people listen to music, those factors alone cannot explain the decline and the fall of record stores. Nor can the one-stop mentality of big-box thinking.

.

The truth is, the record industry itself is at least partially responsible for the slow death of the free-standing record store. Well before the Internet or the Wal-Mart juggernaut even existed, at least traceable to the early 1980's, the bean counters at the labels had unwittingly set in motion events that altered how we listen to music.

.

In those days, label money was flowing freely--every act with a new release on the roster was promoted as the Second Coming. Reps showered retailers with unlimited promo albums, marguarita-soaked release parties, primo concert tickets, t-shirts, anything and everything. And that was just store managers.

.

Then the bottom dropped out-- the labels had pinned all their hopes on skinny-tie bands ( the Knack) and hair bands (Cinderella) and when they didn't explode on the public as planned, the labels panicked. Promotional support to retailers was among the earliest casualties.

.

Not surprisingly, record sales slowed even more. The labels tightened their return policies, forcing the smaller retail chains, such as Disc and Sound Town out of business early on, swallowed up by Sam Goody and the like , who were swallowed up by Trans World Entertainment--and so on and so on. Sound Warehouse was devoured by Blockbuster and Wherehouse, kicking and screaming all the way, fell by the wayside.

.

Only Tower was left standing, and now it's gone.

.

It's sad, really. For those of us who grew up honing our music knowledge browsing the rows upon rows of neatly alphabetized albums categorized by genres not even recognized anymore, while obscure "deep album" cuts blared from wall-mounted Altec speakers, it's a time that won't be recaptured.

.

.

I Have Heard the Future of Hip-Hop, and It Is SoS

.

.

For years now, I've maintained that rap, when done right, is potent street poetry with the power to affect social change. Grandmaster Flash's "The Message" convinced me of that idea more than 25 years ago. Public Enemy's It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back remains on my list as one of the most important albums of the past 20 years for that same reason. And Jay-Z's "99 Problems" is so dead-on that it's central line has become a part of popular language.

.

But let's face it: rap-- indeed, hip-hop in general--has grown bloated and lazy of late, lolling about in dreams of bling and Cristal. Sure, there are exceptions--Kanye West and Rhymefest come to mind--but by and large, the genre has become an example of absolute power corrupting absolutely. The newer artists have bought into the MTV hype.

.

On their debut album As If We Existed, Sol.iLLaquists of Sound (or SoS, as I like to call them), take dead aim at these superficialities in a work that eloquently speaks to the soul. They haven't merely reinvigorated rap-- they've reinvented it. This is an album that utilizes the cliches of rap in only the most minimal style, turning them inside out and infusing them with elements combining free form jazz, urban blues, Parisien cafe stylings and more than a liberal dose of ultrafunk.

.

SoS are serious about their work. DiVINCi welds his MPC's with such virtuosity that it's almost impossible to discern where one sample ends and another begins, while Swamburger fires off his rhymes with machinegun intensity. Alexandrah's vocals swirl and hover between Lauryn Hill phrasings and chanteuse cabaret, punctuated by the poetry of Tonya Combs' background vocals. The resultant mixture resonates with an exuberance rooted in social conscience. This group isn't content to chronicle life in the ghetto-- they're determined to shake it at its roots, slap it around a bit and demand personal responsibility from its inhabitants.

.

"If sound is essentially a movement, ultimately the fate of the movement lies within me," Sos quietly proclaims in the album opener, "Pledge of Resonance." They make good on that pledge through the course of the 12 song work, focusing on themes that cut to the heart of issues such as racial profiling in advertising (Mark It Place"), apathy in cultural revolution ("Black Guy Peace") and the perils of individualism ("Choices".)

.

As If We Existed soars, weave and swirls, sampling genres at a breakneck pace, and reassembling them in a way that makes them feel both alien and oddly comfortable. This is music that sets a new standard for hip-hop, quietly indicting the negative aspects of the genre's current state, and offering a fluid alternative to those aspects. What emerges is an album infused with jazz grooves and gospel/political messages.

.

Sol.ILLaquists of Sound eloquently demonstrate the power inherent in rap as a cultural force. But what's most remarkable about them is they do it in such a smooth but textured way that their statements are almost subliminal in their delivery. The raps never assault the listener--they're wrapped carefully in silky vocals and cool instrumentation. The rhymes are entrenched in layers of samples so that you pick up bits and pieces of lyrics. The message is disjointed, to be sure, but still coherent enough to make its intention abundantly clear.

.

Think of As If We Existed as a manifesto for the next generation of hip-hop: a message of personal responsibility and social awareness.

.

And that's a message that bears repeated listening.

Dexter is charming. His Laboratory--Not So Much

.

.

Dexter Morgan is a disarming fellow--in more than ways than one. When he's not helping to solve crimes in his capacity as a blood splatter forensics expert for the Miami PD, he's methodically chopping up bad guys that slipped through the cracks of the justice system. Anyway, that's the premise for Showtime's new series, Dexter, premiering tonight at 10P, ET.

.

Michael C. Hall (Six Feet Under) portrays the title character, loosely based on the novel Darkly Dreaming Dexter, by Jeff Lindsay. To the world at large, Dexter is an affable guywithout a care in the world, the kind of guy brings doughnuts to work for his co-workers to enjoy, who brightens everyone's morning with flippant, flirty remarks, whose every action reflects his love for the sun and sand lifestyle of Miami. Nobody would ever suspect that all his charm is a facade designed to hide the fact he is actually a sociopathic serial killer devoid of hunan emotion. His relationships, at least in his mind, are based solely on his need to divert attention from his sinister proclivities.

.

By and large, the people in his life play into his hands. His girlfriend Rita Julie Benz) is a survivor of domestic abuse and, as a result, disinterested in sex. Since Dexter himself is incapable of feelings of intimacy, she's perfect for him. His adopted sister Debra (Jennifer Carpenter), the only person he feels any love for, looks to him for inspiration as she tries to move from the vice squad to homicide detective. Only Sgt. Doakes (Erik King), a cynical homicide veteran, suspects something isn't quite kosher with Dexter. The head of the homicide unit, Lt. Marja LaGuerta, is too focused on her unrequited feelings of lust for Dexter to suspect anything.

.

If all this sounds a wee bit comic book-ish, it should. The character of Dexter is much more aligned to pulp vigilantes like the Shadow than psychos like Ted Bundy. True, he stalks his victims, researches them obsessively and takes pleasure in dissecting them alive. But there's a difference-- he only kills really bad guys--child murderers, snuff filmmakers, that ilk. Seems Dexter's foster father, himself a cop, channeled Dexter's love of vivisection into a tool for righteous justice. And it's this angle that Showtime is banking on. The idea that some people are so evil that no punishment is too harsh for them is one that resonates in our collective psyche, and a character like Dexter provides us with a cathartic release.

.

That's not to imply that Dexter is preachy-- far from it. It takes those dark elements and washes them in day-glo colors, with the final product emerging as a farce that makes us empathize with the protagonist.This is a crime drama unlike any before it. When Dexter sets out to track down a rival serial killer, it's a matter of professional jealousy. His day job serves more as a cover to track down his alter-ego's nemesis.

.

The pilot episode of Dexter sets up the premise of the series flawlessly, and leaves just enough unanswered questions and potential subplots to gain a loyal following. Showtime has committed to twelve episodes, as is their customary strategy. But Dexter has enough built-in quirks to take it out of cult status and propel the network to a par with HBO.

Boarding the Enterprise Is Easy Enough--It's the Journey That's Tricky

.

.

Love it, loathe it or think of it as that annoying weekend guest who's too drunk to care that you have to go to work the next morning and you're too polite to kick him down the stairs-- one fact remains abundantly clear: Star Trek is a prime linchpin in the history of pop culture. The show that boldly took us "where no man has gone before"--political correctness not having been invented yet-- turned forty years old in Septermber..

.

Pause a moment to consider that this means at the very least, a generation and a half have never known a world without Star Trek. Even among baby boomers, scant few can claim their lives have not in one way or another crossed paths with some sort of Trekkian influence. And those who do claim otherwise are most likely lying.

.

While I never considered myself a "Trekkie," I'll readily admit that David Gerrold's book on the making of "The Trouble with Tribbles" taught me the fundamentals of script formatting. He became a bit of an influence on me, more because of his audacity in getting his script actually produced than in the fact that it went on to be the most popular episode of the original series.

.

Gerrold's latest endeavor, in collaboaration with Hugo Award-winning author Robert J. Sawyer, is serving as editor of Boarding the Enterprise: Transporters, Tribbles and the Vulcan Death Grip in Gene Roddenberry's Star Trek. Whew! Despite the unwieldly title, Boarding the Enterprise is a tidy collection of essays centering on the original series and its impact on popular culture. The seventeen articles included here represent a spectrum of thought ranging from straightforward analysis to giddy quasi-philosophy. Mostly, it's an entertaining light read.

.

What distinguishes Boarding the Enterprise from the countless other histories and analyses surrounding Star Trek is its sly wink approach to the material. Take, for instance,Lawrence Watt-Evans' piece, "Lost Secrets of Pre-War Human Technology,"a witty bit of satire that attempts to logically explain why the Enterprise was bereft of circuit breakers and seat belts, among other niceties we take for granted. In "What Have You Done With Spock's Brain?" Don DeBrandt deconstructs the myth of Spock's vaunted logic. Scientist Robert A. Metzger makes a compelling case that the most essential character in Star Trek was not Kirk or Spock, but Scotty, and for reasons not blatantly apparent, in "Exaggerate With Extreme Prejudice."

.

Other articles focus more on the Star Trek phenomenon in its historical context, both in socio-political terms, and its place in TV evolution and science fiction as a whole. Eric Greene equates the show as a metaphor for sixties upheaval in "The Prime Question" andin "We Find the One Quite Adequate," Michael A. Burstein discusses the ambiguous religious mores of the 23rd century. Both articles stretch their theses a bit too much to reach their conclusions, though.

.

It's when Boarding the Enterprise stays within the "forty years and still relevant" theme that the book is at its best. Norman Spinrad much more eloquently illustrates Star Trek's importance than either of the aforementioned articles in "Star Trek in the Real World." And David Gerrold's forward, "The Trouble With Trek" points outs the flaws of fandom's blind devotion to the series.

.

Completely unauthorized, and proud of it, Boarding the Enterprise will undoubtedly fuel unwarranted debate among hardcore trekkies. For the rest of us, it rekindles fond memories of a show that, for better or worse, shaped our perceptions of how the universe should work. Boarding the Enterprise is alternately insightful, amusing and nostalgic. Most importantly, it's always entertaining.

Robert Randolph Hits His Stride with Colorblind

.

.

When I was a kid in East Texas there was a guitar shop called Mundt Music. It was a magical place for any pubescent would-be musician, stocked as it was with Strats, Les Pauls, Sunn amps, exotic guitars of every ilk and hue. It was a hangout where guitarists would spontaneously jam on the weekends, playing honky tonk, blues and hybrids that hooked into Spanish and classical influences. Tucked away in a corner was a Fender pedal steel that nobody ever sat down to play. It was hard to get worked up over a pedal steel with all the music candy that Mundt stocked. In those days, the steel guitar was a pretty sedate instrument.

.

Fast forward to, I think, 2002, maybe 2003-- it doesn't really matter. I'm channel surfing late one night when I happen upon Letterman's mucical segment. Now I'm not the easily excitable sort, but what I'm seeing and hearing is hitting me like a solid jolt of caffeine. There's a guy on screen rocking the likes of which I'd not seen Stevie Ray Vaughnn's heydey-- and he's doing it on a freakin' pedal steel guitar!

.

That was my introduction to Robert Randolph and the Family Band. I've been a fan ever since.

Anybody who can fuse Jimi Hendrix stylings to Jerry Lee Lewis antics, and make it actually work, is deserving of attention. Still, something about his first two albums, Live at the Wetlands and the studio second LP, Unclassified, didn't fully capture the intensity that Randolph brings to a performance.

.

Colorblind, the third release by Robert Randolf and the Family Band, dispells any doubts about the band's ability to translate the excitement of their live performances to a studio recording format. From the infectious groove of the albums' opening track "Ain't Nothin' Wrong With That" to the closing tune "The Homecoming," Randolph makes it abundantly clear that he's come to funk you up, and he has no intention of taking any prisoners.

.

To prove his point, he's packed the spirits of Sly and the Family Stone, Jimi Hendrix a touch of Parliament and Jeff Beck in his arsenal. As if that weren't enough, he's convinced the likes of Leela James, Eric Clapton and Dave Matthews to accompany him on his quest to reclaim funk-soul from the Visigoths. It's a formidable alliance.

.

It takes more than a bit of audacity to have Eric Clapton play second on a song, but that's exactly what Randolph does in the blazing cover of the Doobie Brothers' "Jesus Is Just Alright."Though the rendition is almost a dead-on cover, the delineated duel between Clapton's Strat and Randolph's steel spins guitar competitions in an entirely different direction. What results is more subliteral communication than competition.

.

No album can stand on balls to the wall funk alone, so when Randolph does slow it down, he brings in Leela James for atmospheric dimension. "Stronger" is a ballad that evokes both Motown and gospel, and nobody is more suited than Leela James to elevate the tune to its rightful echelon. For my money, she is the heir apparent to Aretha's crown, and Randolph's steel (and side vocals) only add ambrosia to a voice thoroughly steeped in soul.

.

But when all is said and done, this is Robert Randolph's album. He loves his pedal steel, and all the intricacies he can pull out of those thirteen strings.With Colorblind, has potentially broken out of cult status to hit the mainstream. ABC Sports is even using "Thrill of It All" to intro their college football broadcasts. (You can hear it here. ) There's nothing wrong with that. In fact, anything that keeps funk alive can't be all bad.

.

Robert Randolph is an artist to be reckoned with. Colorblind is is incontrovertible proof of that.

Heroes Has its Mutants in a Row

.

.

At first glance, it would be easy to dismiss Heroes (premiering tonight on NBC, 9 PMET) as a watered-down version of X-Men. To do so, however, would be a huge mistake. While it does tread on familiar comic book-inspired territory, Heroes painstakingly avoids splashiness, instead painting its characters in subtle tones of normalcy shaded by the extraordinary.

.

The creation of Tim King (Crossing Jordan), the pilot episode zigzags across the globe, introducing us to a disparate group of characters, from an indestructable Texas cheerleader to a Japanese office drone with the ability to displace time and space to a male nurse who believes he can fly to a Vegas stripper haunted by a separate personality within herself to a drug addict painter who paints visions of the future. Their stories are told in separate vignettes, loosely connected by an Indian researcher's quest to redeem his dead father's reputation. All of it has something to do with a solar eclipse, which has awakened the protagonists' latent abilities, as well as signaling dire events for all earth.

.On paper, it all sounds more than a little hokey, but Heroes transcends any cliches by cloaking it all in ambiguity. The characters in the pilot episode are three-dimensional people-- a devoted single mom with a questionable past, a male nurse whose dreams of flying symbolize his relationship with his politician brother, a high school student who can do no wrong, and so on--whose lives are taking an unexpected and unwelcome turn.

.

The pilot episode focuses on the characters' individual stories and inner turmoils, rather than their unusual abilities. It's a teaser, to be certain, but it beckons us to return to find out how the mysteries presented here develop. If Heroes can maintain the focus of the pilot episode, focusing on the characters and their relationship to their environment, NBC may have a sleeper hit on its hands. This is a show that promises social insights presented in allegorical style.

.

Here's hoping that it doesn't deteriorate into comic book cliches.

One Day in Hyde Park was a Leap of Blind Faith

.

.

If ever, in all the anals of rock history, there was an aptly named band, it was Blind Faith. Born from the ashes of Cream and the original incarnation of Traffic, Blind Faith was heralded as the first "supergroup." It seemed a brilliant idea at the time--pairing Eric Clapton's blues based guitar with Steve Winwood's jazz-infused keyboards, and tying it all together with the power of Ginger Baker's drums and Rick Grech's (Family) steady bass.

.

They were doomed from the start.

.

In retrospect, it's hardly surprising that Blind Faith produced only one album in a career that spanned less than seven months. The break-up of Cream had been bitter, due mostly to the animosity between Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker. Adding Baker as a drummer to what had began as jams between Clapton and Winwood was, in part, the reason Clapton to cynically call the band "Blind Faith," referencing his doubts about the bands future.

.

Nonetheless, the fans, the press and, most importantly, the label pushed for an album release. Advances--huge advances--were paid, tours were booked and Blind Faith were superstars before even releasing an album.

.

London Hyde Park 1969 documents Blind Faith's 7 June 1969 live debut. It was a less than auspicious live premiere for such a highly anticipated "super-act." The fledgling band was ill prepared for a venue of more than 100,000 fans, and their preformance by today's standards, amounted to little more than a soundcheck. The bandmembers themselves, particularly Clapton, would critique it as mediocre at best. It didn't matter, though--even though their debut was uninspired, the audience ate it up, and Blind Faith was thrust into superstardom.

.

Despite the performance's shortcomings, London Hyde Park 1969 is a tidy historical document that offers a rare glimpse of a band who would become a seminal influence on the rock that followed them. The live recording (originally planned as part of a documentary) had been shelved ever since the band's dissolution later that same year. This DVD release features the concert in its entireity, and is the only video release available documenting Blind Faith. The intro, replete with mod-style voiceover, harkens back to the dying embers of the swinging sixties and the socially disenfranchised decade poised to replace it. Bonus materials include prehistoric (at least, music video-wise) videos of the Spencer Davis Group, Traffic and Cream.

.

The influence of Blind Faith, for better or worse, on rock music cannot be overstated. The eponymously titled album that followed the Hyde Park concert was a mega-hit and transformed the face of rock and roll from snappy three chord progressions to a genre that embraced, with varying degrees of success, the experimentations of jazz and blues. What this DVD release does is illustrate the first steps of a new direction rock would take.

.

Songs like "Well All Right," "Can't Find My Way Home" and "Sea of Joy" still hold up to scrutiny some 35 years later, and London Hyde Park 1969 affords the viewer a chance to hear them in their earliest forms. That alone would make the disc a worthy addition to a connoisseur's library, but the concert's blatant missteps, such as their cover of the Rolling Stones' "Under My thumb," make it all the more interesting.

.

Shark Puts the Bite Back in Courtroom Drama

.

.

Courtroom dramas, like medical series, have been a mainstay of network television from its earliest days. And while both genres have had their share of classics, in recent years they have shown their age. Both ER and Law and Order, once ratings powerhouses, are limping into oblivion. A case could be made that today's audiences, bombarded with information at every turn, no longer have the patience for procedural dramas.

.

Shark, the new CBS legal drama starring James Woods, turns the courtroom drama on its ear in much the same way FOX's House skewered medical TV conventions. Both series have protagonists who are wounded renegades reluctantly redeeming themselves by mentoring a group of avid but naive proteges. While the set-ups are superficially similar, the commonalities between the two end there.

.

Woods is cast as Sebastian Stark, who, when we first encounter him, is a celebrity LA defense attorney whose credo is "trial is war," and winning is all that matters. Justice, he reasons, is left to God. It's a stance what doesn't win him any friends in the Prosecutor's office, who disparagingly refer to him as "Shark." But when a high-profile client beats his wife to death hours after Stark won an acquittal for him, the haughty defense attorney has an epiphany of sorts, chilled wtih a bout with depression. He's forced to face the consequenses of his cutthroat tactics, and that makes him a shark with no teeth--and a man in search of redemption.

.

He gets his chance when the mayor coaxes him into heading up a new high-profile crime unit in the LA District Attorney's office. For a man whose only motivation is winning, this is an ideal avenue for him to get back into the game. There's only one catch: his new boss is his former nemesis, Jessica Devlin (Jeri Ryan.) As to be expected, philosophical and ethical sparks fly, despite their grudging respect for each other.

.

Further complicating matters for Stark is his devotion to his 16 year old daughter, who serves as a sort of moral counterbalance for Stark's take-no-prisoners professional life. Couple that with his tough love approach to his proteges, the inexperienced prosecutors that comprise his unit, and the possibilities for conflict in this drama on a regular basis are boundless.

.

The pilot episode introduces all the principals without falling into detailed backstories, around a framework centering on an aspiring pop diva's murder trial. It's a terse story, skillfully directed by Spike Lee, whose visual sense adds an immediacy to even the most sedate moments. But in the end, Shark is a showcase for James Woods. Nobody plays smarmy characters better than he does, and his talents are played to the extreme here. Woods has always been able to bring a dimension to a superficially unsympathetic character that makes an audience empathasize with him. In Shark, he's chewing up scenery that would befuddle even the likes of Jack Nicholson. And he does it with a style that makes you want to replay scenes for dialogue alone.

.

CBS obviously has high hopes for Shark, slotting in that Thursday spot that ER has dominated for years. If it can maintain the pacing and writing of the pilot, Shark could very well be the crown jewel of Thursday night network TV.