THE way to rate an episode of CSI Miami is, obviously, on the strength of Horatio Caine's opening quip – the pre-credits one-liner delivered with the comic timing of a hippo, as he wryly puts his sunglasses on or takes them off. This latest episode,
then, was clearly a classic, as it began with the crispy corpse of a man burned alive on a Miami beach, whose body – explained the new medical examiner, clearly fresh from her latest beauty pageant – was found in a "pugilistic" pose with his fists out.
Horatio's smirk could hardly be contained: "A FIGHT… to the death!" Presumably the doctor's disgusted response: "What an insensitive thing to say, and how is that even funny anyway, you sicko?" was covered up by the whoosh of The Who's theme tune kicking in.
The plot was an implausible affair about siphoning petrol, which was somehow linked to a forced prostitution ring. Or, as someone explained to Horatio: "This is a full-fledged human trafficking operation."
"Frank," he oozed in reply, "they coerce these ladies into coming here and then sell them to the highest bidder." Frank heroically refrained from pointing out that, yes, that's generally what human trafficking means.
The whole fun of CSI Miami is in Horatio, with all his smarmy dialogue, which is 90 per cent just rephrasing what the previous speaker has said. David Caruso's portrayal, it's becoming increasingly clear, is one of the great comic performances of our time. Those who argue that it's unintentionally so are surely wrong; no-one, simply no-one, could be that bad an actor.
In fact, Caruso is a modern master influenced by the comic greats – Peter Sellers, John Cleese, Frank Spencer – who has slowly been turning a conventional forensic crime show into a platform for a tragic-comic exploration of the pathos of the modern condition. Caine's compulsive quips aren't just strained, they're a symptom of his post-traumatic alienation from the realities of life and death. But unlike Woody Allen's early attempts to transpose Bergman's bleakness into an American context, Caruso's Caine can both epitomise the darkness of the soul yet also make one laugh out loud.
Take the climax to this story, when the bad guy was attempting to escape with his trafficked prostitutes till a lone, female voice cried "No!"
"Who said that?" snarled the villain.
"I did," said Caine, emerging from their midst (sadly not disguised in hooker gear), thus proving that, as well as his talents for puns, he is also an accomplished ventriloquist. What a guy.
Scotland's Brand New Bank was an interesting sketch of a proposal to introduce the Grameen system, a pioneering idea that has flourished in Bangladesh and elsewhere, to Glasgow's poorer communities. The idea is that those who can't get credit anywhere else are able to borrow fairly limited amounts to start their own small businesses, from an organisation that won't bleed them dry or seek unrealistic rates to earn bonuses for its staff.
It sounded good, but presenter and supporter Sally Magnusson wasn't able to establish how they'd deal with the big catch: benefit rules that would rule it out for many. Grameen founder Muhammad Yunus argued that welfare kept people in a "human zoo" and that they'd be better fending for themselves in the "jungle". But that's not very reassuring if you're one of the monkeys.
