Comedy
Dead Boy Detectives
Dead Boy Detectives targets teens in style and story. But it comes with very adult, problematic content.
Stock skeleton warning: The content in Bones, as with most procedurals, can vary widely from week to week. What you saw last week isn’t necessarily what you’ll see to-marrow.
Dr. Temperance Brennan is a brilliant, attractive forensic anthropologist skilled at reading bones and other human remains. Dealing with living, breathing people, however, tends to give the good doctor a headache. While she’s softened a bit since she married and had a baby with former Army sniper-turned-FBI agent Seeley Booth—forming a formidable partnership both on and off the clock—”Bones” is still most comfortable in the world of fibulas and metatarsals. And her cohorts at the Jefferson Institute wouldn’t have it any other way. Together, they make up a Washington, D.C., forensic team to die for—and somebody always seems to be doing just that.
Based on the best-selling books by Kathy Reichs, Bones is all about cadavers and conundrums that demand lab work, footwork and at least a little teamwork. But along with scientific insight and superhero-smart solutions, parts of this hour-long show challenge our ability to suspend disbelief.
For one thing, wunderkind Dr. Brennan is also a best-selling mystery novelist, a black belt in martial arts and a crack shot with a handgun. Given a little provocation, the socially shy PhD will borrow moves from Chuck Norris or Clint Eastwood, and somehow the authorities let her get away with it.
Then again, this is a procedural that, ironically, doesn’t take itself deathly seriously. Those who have stuck with Bones throughout its decade-plus existence (we’re in the 12th season as of this writing) have learned to go with the flow.
Spiritual themes rise to the surface more often than they do on, say, CBS’ CSI shows, with Booth (a Catholic) and Bones (an atheist) occasionally bumping heads. But the result never strays too far from “approved for mainstream TV” territory, which is to say it’s not designed to reinforce Christian faith or ideals.
Bones reaches out for viewers with well-developed characters and smartly written dialogue, especially for its leads, who bring to mind opposites-attract duos from The X-Files, Moonlighting and Cheers. But the real “draw” here are close-ups of people digging through decaying tissue, corpses being stripped by flesh-eating beetles, and a frozen pig getting tossed into a wood chipper, among many, many other things. While the show may feel in some ways “lighter” than some of its procedural pals over on CBS, the camera’s certainly not shy about showing us all things dead.
“Eight o’clock seems too early for a show featuring long, loving shots of desiccated corpses, but network TV doesn’t abide by many genteel rules or good manners anymore,” said Washington Post TV critic Tom Shales. “Even adults may feel the director is way too generous with views of rotting remains.”
Booth and Brennan investigate the murder of a young man who is working off his student loans as a tutor to children of the rich and powerful.
The man’s body is found in a shallow hole, his face and much of the corpse blown away by shotgun blast. Viewers are exposed to close ups of the man’s bloody head (almost unrecognizable as a head at all), and meaty remnants of human flesh are scattered around the crime scene. When one detective, Lance Sweets, stands under a tree, bits of human remains fall on his shoulder, staining both his suit coat and shirt. It’s played for laughs, and the other detectives pepper the man with advice on the best drycleaners for removing both blood and bile.
We see plenty of the corpse later, too, as it lies in a pool of its own liquid in an autopsy room. (The man’s legs were apparently blown clean off, too.) Someone plucks a moist contact lens from an eyeball. Later, the victim’s remains are reduced to, ahem, bones.
The body was found on a street named after a prominent local family. The family’s surname, alas, is also used as a crude slang term for the male anatomy. Much is made of the street name (which is jokingly repeated several times). One of the tutor’s clients enjoys provoking her husband by trying to seduce people nearby, and she admits to having had her hand down the victim’s pants when her husband walked in. (She also flirts with Booth when her husband is around.) When there’s evidence that the man was beaten before being shot with a leather-wrapped rod of steel, someone quips that the weapon was likely found in “The Fifty Shades of Grey aisle.” (That theory later proves to be erroneous: The victim died by falling down a flight of stairs, with the shotgun blasts intended to obscure his identity.)
Brennan decides to start reading books she’s written to her and Booth’s 6-year-old daughter. When Booth suggests the stories might be too mature for the little girl, Brennan insists that “my plots are not darker than original fairy tales,” reminding him that one such tale features birds pecking people’s eyes out. Characters say “h—,” “p-ss” and “crap,” and God’s name is misused about five times.
“The Family and the Feud”
Bones and Booth investigate the death of a six-toed man in rural West Virginia. When they learn that the victim was a major player in a Hatfield/McCoy-like feud, suspicion naturally falls on the other family. Meanwhile, Bones struggles with leaving her infant daughter in the care of Max, Bones’ father who deserted her when she was little.
We get some nice messages about family, reconciliation and giving people second chances here. But we also frequently see a grotesque, decaying corpse. Doctors remove a shoe (pulling off a bit of skin as they do so) to reveal a nausea-inducing foot.
A man shoots at Bones and Booth; when Booth grabs the weapon from the guy, the attacker hits him in the face. Booth whaps the aggressor with the rifle butt. We hear about how, in the old days, the feuding parties “used to just kill each other and call it a day.” Now they “just” file nuisance lawsuits.
Couples kiss. Young lovers from rival families meet in the woods; their activities are referred to by Booth as “getting it on.” Without going too far down the path Deliverance went, thankfully, we hear a man refer to his truffle-sniffing pig as a “sexy beast.” Characters unearth “h‑‑‑” three or four times, and “b‑‑ch,” “a‑‑,” “d‑‑n” and “b‑‑tard” once each.
After spending more than two decades touring, directing, writing and producing for Christian theater and radio (most recently for Adventures in Odyssey, which he still contributes to), Bob joined the Plugged In staff to help us focus more heavily on video games. He is also one of our primary movie reviewers.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
Dead Boy Detectives targets teens in style and story. But it comes with very adult, problematic content.
An elf mage contemplates on connection and regret as she watches her human friends grow old and pass away.
