“The Most Subversive Show on Television”

Au contraire, mes amis.

Most of us have accepted the idea that privacy is a thing of the past. Person of Interest helps us embrace the idea that this is just fine. Someone is watching out for us. We’re in good hands.

Where’s the subversion? Here: anyone who is worried about “privacy issues”—or who quotes Benjamin Franklin—is a terrorist. The real threat to our safety and privacy are the folks pulling his strings.

It’s possible that the show’s portrayal of women is subversive. (Am I being ironic or sardonic? I can never decide.) For the most part, women in Person of Interest are crazy, bloodthirsty, or both. While our culture pretends to abhor violence it is, in fact, only horrified when violence is committed by women. So maybe this “subversive” show will diminish double standards in sentencing hearings.

The writers have refined their approach to edgy, female characters. Initially, they went too far with the psychotic CIA agent, but the sociopathic assassin is just right. Having The Machine set the deranged hacker on a slightly straighter path was a good move, too.

Carter is obviously the heroine; she’s smart, tough, and beautiful, and any blood she sheds is in a righteous cause. But is there room on television for an intelligent, sophisticated, savvy role model like Zoe? Not much, apparently.

The show does blow one secret wide open: women like each other. We can be friends. And we often talk about things other than men and manicures. In this show, what we talk about is firearms…

The third season of Person of Interest is the most engaging so far. The Carter/HR story arc is exciting. We learn more about Finch when he says “if they hurt my true love, kill them all.” In one episode, Jim Caviezel is finally allowed to play something slightly more complex than a cross between Clint Eastwood and Lurch. My favorite character in the show, Fusco, played by Kevin Chapman, got one especially good scene.

Next season, I hope to see more of the mob-boss/high-school teacher who makes great marinara. (I love short, fat men.) I’m worried, however, that I may start caring about The Machine.

I do hope the producers will hire a new wardrobe manager for the fourth season. Currently, the position seems to be held by a misogynist. When three, beautiful women go out for a night of dancing and acting as serial-killer-bait, they are in dressed in nearly identical, positively hideous dresses. (And that white thing Shaw wears in another episode? Four boobs instead of two was not a good look for her.)