Cautiously, he's back on the scent

By HOWARD ROSENBERG

June 20, 2003 12 AM PT

It’s no wonder that mysteries endure in popular literature.

P.D. James, the transcendent British detective novelist, believes these stories satisfy “some of the most fundamental needs of the human psyche, providing reassurance, catharsis, and affirmation of our cherished belief that we live in a rational and moral universe.”

Then -- bag the deep-think -- there’s “Monk,” which is flat-out fun. Case closed.

How grand, how fresh and original “Monk” is while flourishing as light entertainment with undertones of intrigue and enigma. It opens its second season on cable’s USA Network tonight, again presenting Tony Shalhoub in a hybrid of crime and comedy whose obsessive-compulsive protagonist racks up as many personal crises and big laughs as arcane clues. A crackerjack detective who is terrified of germs, shrinks from physical contact, is severely challenged by minutiae and won’t eat his dinner if the carrots and potatoes touch? A nemesis of arch-criminals who falls all apart if he doesn’t have access to moist towelettes? Get out!

Although Americans have a fat archive of vibrant mystery writers, the British have made this milieu their own on TV, planting the Union Jack on more than 23 years of “Mystery!,” for example, an oasis for seductive whodunits that PBS is phasing out (sob) as an expression of Anglophilia.

The Brits dunit proud. They’ve every right to crow about their adapted-for-TV detectives, from Jeremy Brett’s fastidious, tightly coiled Sherlock Holmes to Roy Marsden’s masterfully embodied Cmdr. Adam Dalgliesh, James’ humane, straight-arrow poster boy for the new Scotland Yard.

Yet it’s Shalhoub’s bent-arrow -- U.S.-bred Adrian Monk -- who is this century’s most distinctive TV sleuth, at once formidable and fragile, an endearing San Francisco curiosity who deconstructs intricate homicides that baffle the police, despite being an angst-ridden mess encumbered by personality tics galore.

Humor aside, his eyes read tortured and sad. And it’s no small challenge, in both the writing and the acting, to mock the man and his personal dysfunction without ridiculing the affliction and the pain it produces. From his soulful gaze to his wobbly, whispery voice to his tenuous gait, though, that fine, versatile actor Shalhoub is as delicate here as butterfly wings.

“I wasn’t sure I would be able to make it work and how I would solve the problem of marrying the dramatic element to the comedic element,” Shalhoub said recently about turning the role down when it was first offered. “That seemed so daunting.”

He changed his mind when his manager “pointed out that I was more like this character than I wanted to admit” and when learning the pilot would be directed by well-regarded Dean Parisot, with whom he had worked in the film comedy “Galaxy Quest.”

Although Monk is definitely high IQ, Shalhoub sees in him a lot of Chance, the simpleton green thumb of Jerzy Kosinski’s novel “Being There,” who was portrayed on the big screen by Peter Sellers. Chance is transfixed by TV when not tending a garden, and becomes a sort of UFO when forced from this environment.

“There’s a certain childlike quality to both characters and a different sort of vision,” Shalhoub said. “And when Monk walks out of his apartment, he’s, in a sense, in a strange land.”

That strangeness continues in 2003. Expect a new Randy Newman theme and other minor changes from last season, when “Monk” sneaked up on TV connoisseurs unheralded, becoming a cult favorite and then widening its popularity with reruns on ABC, which had rejected the series before it landed on USA.

It’s shot in Los Angeles now instead of Toronto, and Shalhoub is now an executive producer, along with David Hoberman, who created “Monk,” and Andy Breckman, the writer largely responsible for its uniqueness in prime time’s vast constellation of look-alikes (his brother David wrote tonight’s episode).

TV’s most memorable detectives are often eccentric, from mincing, dust-free Hercule Poirot to shabby Lt. Columbo. Yet only Fitz, Robbie Coltrane’s boozing, gambling, philandering, arrogant cop psychologist in the Brits’ mothballed “Cracker,” was as blotched in his private life as the hero of “Monk.”

Monk is a collection of fears, a troubled, emotionally gnarled, crime-solving savant who works through his phobias and repetitive, ritualized behaviors when it matters most.

His eye-to-brain processing is remarkable, his powers of observation acute, even Holmesian. Tonight he deduces from the indentation in a man’s wallet that he’s an extramarital gadabout who hides his wedding ring there when courting other women.

Although one needn’t be Monk to detect plot holes here, they’re inconsequential in a character-driven hour. Think of Monk as a timid, walks-on-eggshells, tied-into-knots Sherlock tormented by his suffocating neuroses. And think of his miniskirted nurse-handler, Sharona (played to the gaudy, joyful, delightful hilt by Bitty Schram), as Watson with an attitude. Even while clashing, they’re a perfect symbiosis.

Monk will not be stumped -- almost. The only crime he will never unravel, apparently, is the murder of his wife, Trudy, for whom he still aches, and whose death some years ago brought on the mental illness that cost him his job as a highly decorated police detective. Now he helps the cops as a consultant when Capt. Stottlemeyer (Ted Levine) and his toady, Lt. Disher (Jason Gray-Stanford), need him, which is always. In fact, Stottlemeyer is as intimidated by Monk’s sleuthing genius as Monk is by the routine of everyday life.

After wavering mostly between whodunits and whydunits last season, the series resumes tonight with a howdunit titled “Mr. Monk Goes Back to School.” The crime scene is Trudy’s high school alma mater, flooding Monk with memories and tender thoughts as he tracks a resourceful killer.

It’s soon obvious, though not to Stottlemeyer, that an English teacher’s dive from the campus clock tower was no suicide, that she was murdered by a married science teacher (Andrew McCarthy), and that he did it to silence her about their affair. When her falling body slams into his car, however, he is supervising students taking an SAT exam. So how can he be the killer? In a nifty ending, Monk’s epiphany explains all.

Earlier, Monk, who is also terrified of heights, forces himself to join Stottlemeyer and Disher on the clock tower for a snoop-around. Stottlemeyer to Monk, who is fearfully surveying the campus from on high: “I bet this is your worst nightmare.” Monk to Stottlemeyer: “No

The scene not to miss comes later when Monk takes over the dead teacher’s class as part of his investigation. The students are incredulous as he takes three minutes to print “Mr. Monk” on the blackboard, repeatedly erasing and doing it over until getting it just right.

Other challenges ahead for Monk this season include a drowning that apparently happens in midair, a comatose serial killer and the murder of the world’s oldest man (think about it). Prepare, also, to meet Monk’s brother, said to be even more screwed up than he. How is that possible?

Tonight, when a school nerd is abused by a bully in the cafeteria, Monk feels his pain. Monk: “I should go over there and talk to him.” Sharona: “What are you gonna say?” Monk: “Things get worse.”

Things do get worse for Monk. Which means they get better. No, wait, worse. No, better. Worse and better. Whatever.

Howard Rosenberg’s column appears Mondays and Fridays. He can be contacted at howard. [email protected].

‘Monk’

Where: USA Network

When: 10 p.m. Fridays, starting tonight. Repeats at 11 p.m.

Production credits: Executive producers, Andy Breckman, David Hoberman, Tony Shalhoub; director, Randy Zisk; writer, David Breckman

Rating: The network has rated it TV-PG (may be unsuitable for young children)