Whatever Mark Harmon saw in "Certain Prey" wasn't in it when I saw it. This pedestrian police procedural about Minneapolis Deputy Police Chief Lucas Davenport solving a complicated crime delivers barely enough to make it tolerable. Nothing about Oscar nominated writer & director Chris Gerolmo's run-of-the-mill saga stands out. Mark Harmon is charismatic enough, but nobody else seems remotely interesting. Mind you, Chief Davenport resembles Harmon's Special Agent Jethro Gibbs in large part. The Chief has a cabin in the woods where he goes to ponder things. Davenport's adversaries are a pair of killer bimbos who display no qualms about knocking people off in cold blood. These lethal ladies are bad news. Just ask the stuck-up narcotics peddler who doesn't believe that a dame can kill. One of the gals draws the line at gunning down little girls while the other has worries about a munchkin who saw them leave a crime scene. This is one of many complications that gum up the works for the unlucky pair. Cast as a sexy attorney named Carmel Loan, Lola Glaudini looks like a slim, attractive Susan Sarandon. Carmel is an obnoxious attorney who chases ambulances and loves to get married men in hot water. She hooks up with another lady, Clara Rinker (Tatiana Maslany of "Defendor"), to kill a villainous dope dealer. Initially, Clara is interesting because she became a killer when she killed a rapist with a baseball bat to the brain. Clara's willingness to kill makes her a splendid candidate for hit-man school. Since the St. Louis mob has trained her, Clara has iced more than 25 victims. This cute dish wields a silenced .22 caliber automatic pistol and lives out of town. She loves to pour lead into her victims, long after they have been shot. This poor trait rubs off on her friend Carmel who doesn't know when to start shooting and when to stop. Clara gets into trouble when she kills a cop who witnessed her execution style killing. The FBI is now on her trail, but they don't have much evidence to incriminate Clara.
Although our hero absorbs a couple of shots, the Chief survives all the lead in the air with comparative ease. An innocent bystander captures a video of Davenport shooting an assailant charging him with a sports car and a pistol. The best surprise occurs during the last few minutes when we realize that one of those dolls escapes without either dying or doing time. In other words, Gerolmo doesn't tie up everything in a neat bundle. Instead, he leaves strands dangling. If anything sets this made-for-television crime thriller is Davenport's ethically challenged method of operation. He his loves to provoke his suspects and this strategy works. He has little use for search warrants and keeps hose and lock-pick tools handy. Unfortunately, the Chief's adversaries fall for this trick when they aren't tripping themselves up. The gag with the soap is one of the best. Sadly, unlike "NCIS," Harmon is surrounded by actors and actresses that pale by comparison with his gifted CBS-TV colleagues. The repartee between Chief Davenport and his colleagues is pretty bland for the man who wrote "Mississippi Burning," and nobody stands out as prominently as Davenport. A running gag is Chief Davenport's sexual exploits, particularly his 40 nights with a female subordinate. The things to watch for are a thick police manuscript and a lady who has trouble counting the number of .22 caliber cartridges in a container. Harmon delivers the only memorable line of dialogue: "Everybody I talk to says he's dumber than a barrel of hair." This shallow, straightforward thriller is ultimately forgettable. Only die-hard Mark Harmon should endure this polished pabulum.
Although our hero absorbs a couple of shots, the Chief survives all the lead in the air with comparative ease. An innocent bystander captures a video of Davenport shooting an assailant charging him with a sports car and a pistol. The best surprise occurs during the last few minutes when we realize that one of those dolls escapes without either dying or doing time. In other words, Gerolmo doesn't tie up everything in a neat bundle. Instead, he leaves strands dangling. If anything sets this made-for-television crime thriller is Davenport's ethically challenged method of operation. He his loves to provoke his suspects and this strategy works. He has little use for search warrants and keeps hose and lock-pick tools handy. Unfortunately, the Chief's adversaries fall for this trick when they aren't tripping themselves up. The gag with the soap is one of the best. Sadly, unlike "NCIS," Harmon is surrounded by actors and actresses that pale by comparison with his gifted CBS-TV colleagues. The repartee between Chief Davenport and his colleagues is pretty bland for the man who wrote "Mississippi Burning," and nobody stands out as prominently as Davenport. A running gag is Chief Davenport's sexual exploits, particularly his 40 nights with a female subordinate. The things to watch for are a thick police manuscript and a lady who has trouble counting the number of .22 caliber cartridges in a container. Harmon delivers the only memorable line of dialogue: "Everybody I talk to says he's dumber than a barrel of hair." This shallow, straightforward thriller is ultimately forgettable. Only die-hard Mark Harmon should endure this polished pabulum.