Snarky, swaggering ‘Burn Notice’ bringing fun back to TV

For some, it’s the first time we’re condescendingly called sir or ma’am.

For others, it’s the knowledge that in four months, one week, four days and a handful of hours, we could legally date someone born in the ’90s. Not that I’m counting.

Mine came a couple of days ago, listening to one of radio’s countless morning zoos. Two DJs were discussing Erik Estrada, his recent commercials — the ones selling dirt-cheap homesites in fabulous Nowhere, Arkansas — and how much they miss “CHiPs.”

That’s when the show’s female sidekick — the type who can rattle off with ease which celebs are sporting a baby bump and the latest guy to check into Hotel Britney — declared she had no idea what “CHiPs” was. At that exact moment, my back went out, I started worrying about my retirement plan and I swear I got a liver spot.

But almost as mystifying as a 24-year-old (I looked her up online) with no concept of Ponch and Jon is the fact that there’s really no current show to compare “CHiPs” to. For the most part, TV has lost its sense of fun.

You remember fun, right? Light banter, pretty girls, fisticuffs, car chases, a little gunplay, a seemingly impossible situation each week and a hero with a brand of cool that’s mostly been relegated to George Clooney and his “Ocean’s” buddies?

“Moonlighting.” “Magnum, P.I.” “The A-Team.” “The Rockford Files.” They were all fun. Heck, pretty much anything from the ’70s was. These days, though, the fun banner is being carried almost exclusively by “Burn Notice” (10 p.m. Thursdays, USA), a series with the perfect mix of snark and swagger.

Jeffrey Donovan stars as Michael Westen, a spy who’s been given the burn notice of the title. This, apparently, is how trained killers are fired. No awkward meetings with HR, no piling all your belongings in a copier-paper box as your co-workers try to avoid eye contact. Your bosses just freeze your bank accounts, wreck your credit, take away all your connections, tail your every move and generally make your life miserable.

While he tries to get his job back by discovering why he was set up, Michael uses his special skill set to make ends meet — somebody has to pay for his never-ending supply of fashionable suits — by helping the little guy. “Just so we’re clear,” he asks a client, “you want me to figure out who ran off with $22 million in stuff, catch the bad guys, clear your name, all for, what is it, $4,500?”

He eventually turns to the only people who’ll still talk to him. His trigger-happy ex-girlfriend, Fiona (Gabrielle Anwar), who’s all lips and suntan and flirty come-ons, spent 16 years in the IRA and looks at violence as a type of foreplay. Sam (the legendary Bruce Campbell), a spy-turned-hard-drinking-beach-bum living off the kindness of attractive socialites, pitches in to help while informing on Michael to the Feds. And his hypochondriac mom (Sharon Gless) is good in a pinch.

Borrowing a page from “MacGyver,” another fun show, Michael isn’t a fan of guns. “Guns make you stupid,” he says. “Better to fight your wars with duct tape. Duct tape makes you smart.” Courteous to a fault, though, if he knows he’s going to have to shoot somebody, he’ll bring along some disinfectant.

Along the way, Michael delivers a step-by-step tutorial on the intricacies of the spy game, covering everything from how to turn a cheap, pink “Hello Sweetheart” cell phone into a high-tech listening device to how taping a vibrating “personal massager” to a window can defeat a laser microphone.

The whole thing is smart, sexy and as cool as the other side of Samuel L. Jackson’s pillow. And the networks could learn a few things from “Burn Notice,” as there’s clearly a market for it: The series has generated more e-mail from readers than any other show this summer.

In the current TV landscape, “Bones” is almost fun, and “Supernatural” has its moments. But I’ve got hope for the fall.

Some of the promos for Fox’s “K-Ville” — about the cops who patrol post-Katrina New Orleans — make it look fun, although based on the pilot, it’s not quite there. NBC’s “Chuck” — about a nerd tapped to save the country — and The CW’s “Reaper” — about a slacker tapped to become Satan’s bounty hunter — just ooze fun, assuming you can overlook the cool factor.

All in all, it looks to be a promising trend. A throwback even. And somewhere, probably deep in the wilds of Arkansas, Erik Estrada is smiling.

Christopher Lawrence’s Life on the Couch column appears on Mondays. E-mail him at clawrence@reviewjournal.com.