How many other people out there are fairly certain that Emily Procter, CSI: Miami’s Calleigh Dusquesne, is a very sophisticated automaton? A show of hands?
I don’t usually watch CSI: Miami. My heart still belongs to Gil Grissom and I can accept no substitutes. But last weekend was Thanksgiving, and there was a lot of “holiday programming.” Translation: sports and Hallmark specials. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.)
And, oh, let us not forget the copious reruns. I had some writing to do, and I so fear the blank page that I must fill the room with distractions. Failing to find anything else I could tolerate, I opted for the CSI: Miami marathon on A&E.
I turned toward a very Calleighcentric episode, and I noticed it. I don’t know whether this has to do primarily with the way the show is blocked and shot (because they do a lot of head shots), or if it’s an acting choice, but that girl can click through emotions like nobody’s business…while hardly moving a muscle!
Now it doesn’t hurt that she’s stunningly beautiful. Given the chance to stare at that alabaster skin, sky blue eyes, and cascading flaxen hair, nobody’s going to lose patience. At first, I found myself impressed by her stillness. But after awhile, I noticed that “stillness” didn’t quite cover it. When she spoke, her lips curled upward, her eyes twinkled, her eyebrows were raised a tad—but no major hardware moved. Initially, I thought, perhaps it was to make a particular point. But as I watched, she never shifted. I became morbidly fascinated.
Actual people do usually move around a lot but, granted, herky-jerky actions can be distracting on film. But human gestures are normal, even while acting. This girl not only made no movements, she required none. It was awe-inspiring. Watching her performance, I could not take my eyes off this astonishing phenomenon. Like a series of switches being fired, an array of reactions and emotions shimmered from within, dancing and shifting while she stayed perfectly still. And no sooner did one go off than it was replaced by the next.
I miss the old days, and my first exposure to Ms Procter as Ainsley Hayes, the adroit, if often flustered, fish-out-of-water attorney on The West Wing. One dose of this earnest, perfectionist neophyte and I wanted to invite her to a pajama party and be BFFs—best friends forever. Versatility is certainly an actor’s greatest tool, but robot-acting must certainly come in handy when the occasion demands. I just don’t know what that demand is. I mean, even the Cylons display a wider variety of body language than Calleigh Duquesne—and they are robots.
Holiday programming is over for awhile, so I’ll be settling back to my one-off, weekly dose of the Dusquesne-free version of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. So you really don’t have to pay me any mind. But if you ever want to observe an immaculate characterization of a highly sophisticated, automated humanoid, you can go with the obvious choices: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Battlestar Gallactica, Smallville. But if you can’t find those, go for a dose of Calleigh on CSI: Miami.
I will save my David Caruso commentary for next time.
