The Replacements

By Joel Stein

FIRST MONDAY

It takes most shows a while to find their rhythm. But First Monday (CBS, Fridays, 9 p.m. E.T.), a new Supreme Court drama, immediately settles into a groove of pregnant pause followed by cliche. The makers of JAG are not masters of subtlety, and while that might be fine for a show about a military court, the Supreme Court requires a bit more nuance. Yet First Monday has a Chief Justice (James Garner) who begins each session by making all nine Justices put a hand in the middle, football-huddle style, and yell, "Let's go make history." The cases--about discrimination against transsexuals, parental rights over teen abortion or the death penalty for the mentally impaired--are shamelessly sensational. And every Justice offers personal and completely statutory-argument-free opinions with phrases like, "As a liberal, I think..." It's a Supreme Court that Judge Judy could be appointed to.

The networks have mistaken The West Wing's popularity for an interest in how our government works. In addition to three CIA dramas now on air, this season will get a second Supreme Court show in March, when Sally Field's The Court comes to ABC. First Monday tries really hard to copy The West Wing, down to the walk-and-talk scenes, but it lacks the complexity of even that show's flat Sept. 11-themed episode. It's a waste of a great cast, including the always welcome Garner, the always reliable Charles Durning and Joe Mantegna (House of Games), who plays the new swing vote on a split court. There are also a bunch of attractive young clerks, but they do nothing more than cut you a break from an hour of Durning and Garner.

The one interesting innovation First Monday offers is the use of real political figures, like the Rev. Jerry Falwell, arguing about court topics on Curveball, the takeoff of Chris Matthews' Hardball that the Justices sometimes catch on TV. There are also occasional moments of accidental hilarity; in the first episode Durning, talking to Garner about the Ruth Bader Ginsburg doppelganger Justice Esther Weisenberg, says, "Esther's giving that new boy her wet-panties pep talk." You can't come up with comedy like that on purpose.

GLORY DAYS

Kevin Williamson's ideas just sound like money. The man who created Dawson's Creek and wrote the movies Scream and I Know What You Did Last Summer has the ability to think like a teenager and a marketing executive at the same time. His concept for Glory Days (the WB, Wednesdays, 9 p.m. E.T.) is flawless: if the only reason Murder, She Wrote isn't still on the air is that its viewers brought in only Depend commercials, then make a Murder, She Wrote for teens. The lead character here is dark but likable young mystery novelist Mike Dolan (Eddie Cahill), and the setting is a crime-beleaguered Northeastern vacation island that happens to employ the world's hottest coroner (Poppy Montgomery), who could become the hero's love interest. If Williamson were a stock, Warren Buffet would own him.

What he lacks in talent or effort--the dialogue can flop back and forth between smart talk and soap-opera drivel--Williamson makes up in casting. You often fail to notice cloying or clunky speeches when there are really good-looking young actors delivering them. Cahill, who played Rachel's boyfriend on Friends and a murderous junkie on Felicity, is charming as Mike, who comes home to try to figure out his father's suspicious death. Once there, he also has to deal with the angry townsfolk, all of whom he skewered in his best seller. Cahill is especially impressive not only because he--as well as the other actors, including Frances Fisher (Titanic, Traffic) as his newspaper-editor mom--has to work with the usual clue-dropping and case-solving explanations, but because Glory Days is bogged down with more character exposition than an A.A. meeting. Everyone has a past relationship to Mike that he or she just needs to tell you about right now.

But mystery shows have a lower bar, and this one's whodunit is appropriately ridiculous, innovative and suspenseful. Cahill makes Mike a smoother Encyclopedia Brown, poking his nose into the town's strange goings-on with as much believability as could be hoped for. And, most important, he's way better looking than Angela Lansbury.