The Final Countdown; Its nerve-jangling plot has already packed in

0 Comments | Sunday Herald, The, Aug 18, 2002 | by Graeme Virtue

AT 10pm tonight, three million people will each be glued to their TV like a novelty Garfield in the back of a Ford Capri. BBC2 is screening the last episode of 24, the most relentless, nerve- shredding and implausible television drama ever broadcast, and - after a full six months of following the worst day in Kiefer Sutherland's life - dedicated disciples will be expecting nothing less than an earth-shattering conclusion. And the reason acolytes are entitled to expect some breathtaking coup de theatre is because we've invested so much in the programme.

What other show has demanded of its audience that they watch one storyline unfold over 24 real-time episodes, charting from midnight to midnight a day in the life of federal agent Jack Bauer as he attempts to save a black presidential candidate from being assassinated while simultaneously rescuing his wife and daughter from terrorists?

Conventional American TV wisdom favours self-sufficient, stand alone episodes, which can then be broadcast in pretty much any order without anyone noticing - look at the BBC's irritatingly scattershot approach to screening The Simpsons. But 24 has a structural integrity that's absolutely vital to the show and, cumulatively, creates a dramatic effect that's near narcotic. It's no accident the last two minutes of each "hour" always throw up some rug-pulling revelation; a canny update of the repetitive cliffhanger device of old from barnstorming black-and-white RKO serials.

The clock-watching gimmick is audacious but not entirely original. In 1995, Johnny Depp starred in the feature film Nick Of Time as an accountant forced to assassinate a US governor within 90 minutes of his daughter being kidnapped by Christopher Walken. (And who could forget that tense real-time episode of EastEnders with Den, Angie and the window-cleaner?) But for 24 creators Joel Surnow and Robert Cochran, maintaining the device over a full season presented any number of problems. Some were practical; the sheer logistics of filming the first seven episodes in relative darkness, then switching to shimmering LA heat, then charting the onset of dusk. Continuity was also an ongoing nightmare, best illustrated by the alarming difference in characters' hairstyles from the first episode and the rest of the series (which began filming eight months after the pilot). But what's most impressive is how the signature real-time device - which could have so easily been a tiresome straitjacket - actually became a propulsive storytelling mechanism.

Surnow and Cochran cheerfully admit they only planned thefirst eight episodes, which are packed with red herrings and fleeting characters, presumably in case they needed to pull some kind of rabbit out of the hat further down the timeline. Famously, Dennis Hopper was a big fan of 24 before he even signed up as main baddie Victor Drazen for the last few hours. Despite the hurtling plot trajectory, there's a sense that the story is evolving on-screen; which, if you want to get deep about popcorn telly, is sort of how each of us live the stories of our own lives.

While critically adored on both sides of the Atlantic, 24 hasn't been an unqualified success. When asked how he'd like to see the show evolve for its forthcoming second series, Surnow said bluntly: "I'd like it to get better ratings."

Kiefer Sutherland might have completed a remarkable career turnaround - cemented by bagging the Golden Globe for best actor in a drama series earlier this year - but viewing figures in the US have been generally underwhelming.

In the UK, the official Rajar figures suggest that the regular BBC2 slot pulls in 2.5 million viewers - not bad for a Sunday night at 10pm. But things are muddled by unmonitored screenings on BBC Choice - which offered viewers the chance to watch the following episode immediately after the BBC2 broadcast - and the fact that every month, BBC2 has been screening four episodes back-to-back on Saturday nights for the stragglers.

This 24 feast reached a hysterical climax last week; BBC Choice screened the entire thing in chunks of four from Monday to Saturday, ratcheting up the tension for the finale tonight. Of course, without the advertisements that punctuate the American episodes, each instalment only lasts 45 minutes. But that just makes events appear to be moving even faster than the trademark LCD clock that pops up at key moments during the show, a microwave-beeping reminder that time is always running out.

It's hard to describe the emotional effect those inflectionless beeps have on true fans, although they're more than happy to talk about it between themselves on dozens of discussion boards that have appeared on the internet. It's on the web that 24 fans from all over the globe exchange their ever-shifting conspiracy theories, remark on the striking physical similarity between Teri (Bauer's wife) and Nina (Bauer's colleague and ex-lover) and explain how to programme your mobile phone so it makes the same insistent chirrup as those in the Counter Terrorism Unit office.