TV: Women's Murder Club

February was a month to catch up on recorded TV shows. In between the odd bout of working and watching sports, I managed to get completely caught up in three TV shows. One was the Bionic Woman show that has tanked into the eternal ether. The second was Gossip Girl, a relative hit in the weak Fall 2007 season. And the third was The Women's Murder Club.

A mixed kettle of fish is this show. But I'm glad the production company seems to have survived lots of creative upheaval to at least continue the show come April. It's not a certainty to come back in the fall, but a few good shows under the new show-runners might help.

Noted author James Patterson is the creative force behind the show. That's good and it's bad. Patterson, it has been told to me, can be a bit of a bear to handle. He's proudly right wing and a perfectionist and that's a difficult combination in these days. Still, out of dreams and desires ...

Take four women, all involved in crime in their careers. Good involvement. You have the tough-as-nails cop played by Angie Harmon. The Assistant DA, played by Laura Harris. The Medical Examiner played by Paula Newsome. And the rookie/Ace Crime Beat reporter played by Aubrey Dollar. Every one of them is easy on the eyes. And not a one of them is at all realistic.

That's the critical rub. The four get together regularly, actually starting the festivities AT THE CRIME SCENE. Yep, a dead body shows up and so do Harmon's Lindsay Boxer and her partner Jacobi, played by Tyrees Allen. Jacobi, a grizzled old vet of the San Francisco Police Department, is a bright light, expertly played by Allen. He plays him without extremes, leavening the scene when necessary, injecting a dose of reality at other times.

Rarely do Boxer and Jacobi arrive before the ME and the DA show up, the former dressed in the usual plastic windbreaker and the latter dressed to the nines, reaching for something to gag in upon seeing the dead body. Obviously, the ME is needed, the DA, not so much. After the threesome of ladies confab, they move to the perimeter, out where the Do Not Cross tape provides (mostly) a barrier for the fourth muskateer in our little club, the reporter, Clair Thomas.

It's Thomas, the enthusiastic rookie reporter who bugs me the most. Frankly, she's obviously the best detective in town. She unearths new clues at a rate that should shame the other three (and the WHOLE Police Department). She has connections around town that 30-year vets of the newspaper business would sell body parts to obtain. And she's perky and looks young enough to be swapping Language Arts notes in high school with my niece.

The other problem child is squeeky-voiced Harris as DA Bernhardt. Beyond the platinum blonde pixie haircut and quivering voice, she just doesn't present forcibly in a role that demands gravitas. Her inability to fend off sleazeball lawyer Hansen North, played by Kyle Secor (again), affirms the poor characterization. Even when she stands up for herself and her buddies, you get the feeling a loud BOO, would set her right back down.

Earth mother-type Newsome as Washburn and Harmon's Boxer might be stereotypes, but I've got no issues with either. It's fiction afterall and SOME leeway must be granted. Boxer's ex-husband becomes her boss and newly-remarried during the run of the 10 episodes that showed, pre-work stoppage. Rob Estes has played the role and San Fran before. Not a factor in liking or not liking the show.

What brings the show up to a passing grade is the humour. It's not an outright laughs show like Monk or Psych. It's a general humour that permeates ANY grim working place. It's a LITTLE girly, what with many of the statements that bring chuckles involving ick, ewwwwww and yuck. But beyond straining the limits of credulity, what you get is a friendship drama bordering on a dramedy.

Likable actress, four of them, some smiles and a laugh or two, and a mystery of two each week. Makes for a pleasant diversion. Might even check out the original WMC novels Patterson wrote.

In the meantime, it'll only take an hour of your life to check out the TV version.