Court TV

At night it might be channel surfing, but during the day it's a death march:

News. Click. Soap opera. Click. Talk show, talk show, talk show. Soap opera, soap opera. Fake court, news, weather, fake court, bad movie.

Most American children discover the futility and boredom of daytime television around the same time they learn how to convincingly fake illness.

In theory, a day off of school spent lying wanly on a the couch with a remote control in one hand and a cold glass of ginger ale in the other sounds a whole lot like heaven, but even fractions don't seem so bad after suffering through eight long hours of daytime TV. During the day, television is particularly boring, cheap and repetitive. There is quite literally nothing worth watching.

And that is why Court TV just celebrated its 10th anniversary.

Monday through Friday, between the hours of 9 a.m. and 5 p.m., Court TV airs live coverage of real, but incredibly sensational, trials. In order for a trial to make it onto Court TV, it must involve one or more of the following:

With criteria like that, it is easy to imagine Court TV's powers that be high-fiving one another every day during the O.J. Simpson trial.

After a trial has been selected, Court TV devotes itself to airing the entirety of the proceedings. During court recesses and particularly slow portions of testimony, Court TV's commentators, all of whom are ex-prosecutors, discuss the case and clarify any confusing legalese or points of strategy for home viewers. It is a whole lot like watching ESPN — except that on Court TV, they don't bleep the F-word. And instead of athletes, there are murderers and sex offenders. Well, sometimes.

By covering the bloodiest, goriest, most salacious trials possible, Court TV harnesses the power of primetime's biggest money-makers: murder, sex, courtroom drama and reality TV. Then they add some tabloid journalism and a healthy dose of prosecutorial self-righteousness, ending up with a product perfect for the American public. It has suspense, intrigue, lust, profanity and the titillating voyeurism of popular reality shows, all wrapped securely in a carefully cultivated aura of legitimacy and newsworthiness.

The conservatively dressed commentators, who call themselves "anchors," sit at long desks in front of large gray maps of the United States, shuffling papers and speaking to cameras in serious voices. They broadcast live, mostly uncensored coverage of "Official Proceedings" and call in "experts" to debate and discuss the day's events. Court TV markets itself as a network that, like The Weather Channel or CNN, is providing an important service to the American people.

This is key. If they feel like Court TV is news, the American people can watch programming far more violent, profanity-filled and sexually explicit than the video games and TV shows that they like to blame for school shootings and gangs without a trace of guilt or implication of hypocrisy. What a deal! And besides, it's either that or "The Price Is Right."

Court TV is a one-trick pony and it is never more obvious than at night. Once court has adjourned for the day, Court TV has nothing to broadcast but older, syndicated shows from other networks, like the sorely missed "Homicide," as well as "Perry Mason," "Profiler" and "Cops." Lots and lots of "Cops." It is not a channel rich in original programming at night, but perhaps this is for the best, since the few original shows they do broadcast, like "Forensic Files," and "Hollywood & Crime" are nothing to write home about.

There is, however, one program on Court TV that is original, interesting and worth checking out, for the freak-show factor if nothing else. "Inside Cellblock F" is an example of what happens when a megalomaniacal Southern sheriff/prison warden gets his own show. And it also boasts the best theme song on television.

Sheriff Gerald K. Hege's North Carolina prison has pink walls decorated with murals of teddy bear families holding hands and his prisoners wear striped uniforms like in cartoons. On his show, he interviews one or two of his inmates about how they ended up in his Pepto-toned hellhole in front of an all-inmate audience.

The audience is then allowed to address the guests, Jerry Springer-style. They ask probing and insightful questions, like "Yo, how much cheeba were you smokin'?" "Inside Cellblock F" is, without a doubt, television at its finest.

"Inside Cellblock F" best encapsulates Court TV's purpose, taking the salaciousness and authoritative tone of the channel's daytime programming and injecting it with unintentional hilarity. It's also sanctimonious enough that viewers who aren't tuning in for the irony can feel as if they're watching the American justice system working in real-time.

— Alissa Rowinsky Wright (alissa@flakmag.com)