Justice (TV), or, the full Bruckheimer.

I like this show the way I like Las Vegas (the show, not the place) - I guiltily linger over the gleaming surfaces. Not that the writers are any help. The thing moves at rat-on-a-wheel pace.

Last night, thirty five minutes of Justice was all I could take. I realized that it's a great bad dialog instructor. Characters announce their intentions in two modes: angry confrontation, and fleeting, reluctant vulnerability. They blurt out conflict-telegraphing lines. And, scene! There are so many effects to fit in, so many low-angle shots, so many threatening-looking blocking crosses. Let's keep it moving, you writers!

I'm betting the show will last the season, distracting viewers by its pace and good-looking bad leads (It's House in a defense law firm; thank you, Rob Long.). And because the cynicism about the trail and jury system is turned all the way up, the moral and ethical questions of Law and Order are completely off the table. Maybe we're seeing a distilled reality show specimen, the compressed version of those haphazard entries that use 'real' people. But 0nce the eye candy reaches the brain, eyes will glaze over.

Does anyone remember when The Full Cleveland meant white shoes, white belt, and plaid pants? I have been delighted by Jerry Bruckheimer's shows and movies (The Rock, Black Hawk Down, Top Gun, Beverly Hills Cop, I could go on). The man knows how to blow things up in the most entertaining way. But the Full Bruckheimer - hard, cold, computerized, cynical, seductive, relentless and overwhelming - hey, get that stuff out of my living room.