24 has finally started for real! (Actually I would mark last week's episode as the beginning of the goodness.) Rather than the low-tech mucking about in prisons and jungles (urban and natural alike), the show has finally focused itself towards building suspense rather than the limpid meandering I've suffered through for two-thirds of the season.
The unknown-ness of Stephen Saunders and the ensuing detective work to uncover his bits is at once familiar and fresh (at least within this season); the anonymous threat is an energizing element ten times more interesting than the arbitrary flip-flopping of the Los Bros Salazars (Which one wants to kill Jack now? Does it matter since Jack's not going to die even if he dies? I.e. tension should not be staked on Jack's life), and we have a search for an identity in which we sense a directedness instead of the endless chase for a phantom virus.

It's also a great sight to see Jack as the belligerent narc when he hauled Saunder's woman Diana White into MI6; the evil smirk on his face informing her that she had no constitutional rights appealed to the inner fascist in me.

And I don't know if I'll ever tire of military helicopters attacking a city downtown.