Want to know why it seems there’s nothing to watch on TV these days?

Glad you asked.

The Big Four (CBS, NBC, ABC and FOX) have come to realize that the average American will willingly watch anything, so long as it’s packaged as something either uplifting, dramatic or relevant. How else can you explain the national fascination with morbidly obese people sweating it out against one another, or tone-deaf hillbillies competing for recording contracts? How else can you explain the endless stream of crime procedurals “ripped from today’s headlines”?

Why do so-called newsmagazines flourish with rehashes of stories that might have been newsworthy years ago? And what the hell was NBC thinking when they moved Jay Leno to prime time?

The short answer is the bean counters have taken over the networks, just as they’ve taken over the music business and the movie studios. In their pursuit of a buck here and there, they’ve taken programming down several notches. See, it doesn’t matter if there’s any quality to any particular program. What does matter is if it can turn a profit through ancillary venues. In short, it’s easier to go the lowest common denominator. We’ll never notice we were screwed. In fact, we’ll wax nostalgic once it hits syndication.

That’s why I thank Whoever’s In Charge we have cable, or more specifically, USA Network. It just strikes me as a little strange sometimes that I have to resort to basic cable to see anything remotely resembling “TV worth viewing.” With the possible exception of House, the mainstream networks just are not offering any series dramas that hold one’s attention’s span for more than a few episodes. I had high hopes for The Good Wife, but it’s sinking into a comfortably numb formula. By the second episode, Flash Forward was already spinning into an incomprehensible Lost morass. Even the promising sitcoms like Modern Family and Community quickly reverted to stereotypes and cutesy love stories.

The powers that be at USA, however, have taken al those stereotypes and turned them on their heads while paying tribute to the icons that came before them. We didn’t watch the sadly soon to be departed Monk for eight seasons because of his obsessive compulsive disorder—we watched every formulaic episode for the same reason we watched the exploits of his lineal ancestor Columbo. We like to see that guy who seems broken win against all odds. Throw a little humor into the murder-solving mix, and it’s a combination that wins every time. And it’s a combination that’s served USA well. In Plain Sight features a hard as nails female US Marshal with a neurotic family, Psych is as much about approval as it is about conning an un suspecting public and Burn Notice is about redemption in the face of the present.

All of which, in a very roundabout way, brings me to USA’s arguably coolest, hippest show to date. White Collar, like most of USA’s entries, has no semblance to reality. And that is precisely what makes it so damn cool. It’s a time-worn set-up (as most good set-ups are): a by the rules FBI agent teamed with a roguish ex-con to track down all matter of high end art forgers and counterfeiters. If the first two episodes are any barometer, USA may very well have the best new series of the fall season.

What makes White Collar work more than its premise is the chemistry between the characters that permeates every scene. Matt Bomer (Chuck, Traveler) plays Neal Caffrey, the way too slick con man who can fit in any situation, especially if the situation is upscale and usually tragically hip. Tim DeKay (SeaQuest 2000) is FBI agent Peter Burke, the man who put Caffrey in prison twice. After Caffrey’s most recent prison break, just a few months before he was to be released, Burke captures him again, wearing the same suit he wore when he originally arrested him. “Classics never go out of style,” he tells a bemused Caffrey.

That’s the underlying motif of White Collar. It unabashedly pays tribute to movies like It Takes A Thief and the original Ocean’s Twelve (Sinatra, not Clooney), paints New York City in bright colors rarely seen in TV today, features rapid-fire repartee so smoothly written and delivered it comes across as how actual people talk, and generally reminds us of a time when crime shows existed merely to entertain the viewer.

Rounding out the cast of regulars is Tiffani Thiessen (Saved by the Bell) as Burke’s often neglected, but unimaginably understanding wife, and Willie Garson (Sex and the City) as Caffrey’s connection who knows everything about circumventing everything. And finally, there’s Caffrey’s lost girlfriend, for whom he risked everything, and who may have left him for another man, or may be held against her will in a faraway land.

It’s all played with a wink and a nudge to pop culture in general, with inside jokes so veiled they don’t distract the casual viewer, but are a delight to aficionados. White Collar is cocktail comedy, shaken with just enough drama to spice up an otherwise bland TV season. It airs Friday nights at 10P EST on USA, with repeated airings through the month. Of course, episodes are also available online at the USA website. Check it out, and be hipper than all your friends combined.