2: The Movie
Everyone’s reporting about it, so it must be true: There’s almost definitely going to be a 24 movie. (That’s why I called it “2,” get it? ‘Cos movies are usually – oh, nevermind.)
What does this mean for our beloved, yet beleaguered, show?
This is, in all likelihood, its final season. But then they might do a bunch of Bourne-type movies. Can you see it? Jack pushing a walker, chasing after some guy who’s about to get away, then whammo! Jack wings the walker at the guy, one of the legs puncturing right through his lung or heart or other vital organ?
You know you wanna see it.
Seriously, though, I can’t say I’d be too devastated if this ride came to an end. 24 gave us several good years. And even in its worst times, still gave us at least a couple hours’ of great television (c’mon, the first four hours of Season 6 were pretty good, with the nuke going off and all, and then we had the great Martha Logan kiwi toss/neck stab, which is always good for kicks).
But Season 6 was just insanely craptacular. And Season 7 had so much promise and then turned to something stupid. And so far in Season 8? Well, other than the pull-the-knife-out-of-his-gut-to-kill-a-bad-guy-with-it-from-across-the-room-then-shoot-two-other-guys-to-death scene, it’s been rather lackluster.
So, if you have some good ideas for movies, something that can be wrapped up in maybe a couple hours without cougar-related storylines or the traveling meth lab that is Dana Walsh’s life, go for it.
Just as long as Jack shouts a lot and kills people. Got it?
Loading ...
Final scene – Jack and a short, stout man run, under fire, into an abandoned warehouse. Jack shoves the man under an old desk.
“STAY THERE CONGRESSMAN PALMER.” Jack fires two rounds and kills three pursuers. Keith Palmer checks Facebook on his phone, then tweets his location.
The warehouse door explodes inward, and Jack is blown backwards as Jack shouts, “DAMMIT.”
Laying on his back, semi-conscious, Jack reaches for his gun, which had fallen about a foot away. As he almost touches it, a dainty, black-loafer clad foot kicks it away.
Jack turns his eyes towards the intruder. They focus on a pistol two inches from his forehead.
“I told you to stay with me,” says a female voice.
Jack rack focuses from the pistol to the holder’s face.
“Nina,” he says. “Dammit.”
fade to black – silent clock.