TV Guide
December 1996
The Best Show You're Not Watching
The Case For Homicide
Anything good on Friday nights? TV Guide thinks so. Once again we've found a series that's not to be missed. This time it's a gripping cop show like no other. Best-selling author and former L.A.P.D. detective Joseph Wambaugh makes the case for "Homicide"
After five years on NBC, "Homicide: Life on the Street" is the best police series ever produced by American television. It dazzles for the same reasons that British television's "Prime Suspect" lights up PBS: Both cop dramas address an audience intelligently, and, more important, both avoid excessive suds - that is, they do not pander to Nielsen numbers by giving us low-budget, daytime soap all gussied up in big-budget, nighttime police blues.
Whereas "Prime Suspect" is powered by the magnificently flawed Chief Inspector Jane Tennison (Helen Mirren), "Homicide's" energy comes from a terrific ensemble, and the show manages to get by with a minimum of cleavage, buns, barking 9-millimeters, and purple expletives better left deleted.
"Homicide" (Fridays, 10 P.M./ET) is character-driven, not plot driven, and the characters are so vividly drawn we'll gladly shadow them on duty and off, as they traverse the psychological minefield of big-city police service. Two seasons ago, Steve Crosetti (played by Jon Polito) fell on that minefield, a suicide victim. Since then, we are more acutely aware that any of Homicide's all-too-human cops might just follow Crosetti if the stress ratchets up a click or two.
His ghost haunts the surviving, slightly dysfunctional members of this detective family, both in that unglamorous squad room and out there on those very mean streets of Baltimore.
Producers Barry Levinson and Tom Fontana and the show's creator, Paul Attanasio, understand that police work is infinitely more dangerous psychologically than physically, proven by stats showing that cops are far more likely to die by their own hands than to be murdered by a bad guy. So how does TV dramatize this dispiriting material without the audience collapsing into a channel-surfing downer? By adding dollops of dark, defensive, war-zone humor that keep the street-cop cynicism from spiraling into despair.
On this series, that approach makes for the kind of characters we'd like to have a beer with. There's Lt. Al Giardello (Yaphet Kotto), a big-daddy stand-up guy willing to plant his wide body between the troops and the bureaucratic brass upstairs - the kind of leaders who used to burn witches. The intuitive Tim Bayliss (Kyle Secor) and the streetwise Meldrick Lewis (Clark Johnson) are so true-to-life they could walk into any detective squad room in the country, sit down and be on their third cup of coffee before anyone asked if they belonged.
There's the tight-wrapped Mike Kellerman (Reed Diamond), who can't help but exude a boyish charm, and the volcanic Frank Pembleton (Andre Braugher), whose intensity could jump-start a jumbo jet and led to a stroke that almost ended the detective's career. Garrulous, thrice-married John Munch (Richard Belzer) makes us laugh, but sometimes the ghoulish laughter tastes metallic, like sucking on a gun muzzle-the cop euphemism for going end-of-shift forever.
That's the dodge in good cop shows. Without ever speaking of courage, the characters must be brave, in little ways-by coping. Without overt compassion they must care, in little ways-by battling cynicism. Without sermons, they must be wise, in little ways, but when they are not, they must pay for it by shedding slivers from their souls. And we come to wonder how much of the soul can be left after years of this battering?
The series has given women a chance to be credible cops for a change. Sgt. Kay Howard (Melissa Leo) is always interesting and believable, but even more so when she shoulders that gender burden around troubled, competitive guys whose personal problems range from poverty to impotence. "Homicide" doesn't address whether cop marriages fail due to the pressure of the job or if those who want to do the job are lousy marriage prospects in the first place. We suspect that it's both, and we're riveted, whether they're battling criminals or demons of their hearts and minds.
This year-perhaps to attract more traditional viewers-Homicide has added two civilians characters to the mix: cuddly videographer J.H. Brodie (Max Perlich) and coroner Julianna Cox (Michelle Forbes), a body snatcher with a 'tude who whips around in a classic Mustang, like a cop with a nine strapped to her instead of a pathologist with a scalpel. Forbes is a fine actor, but the producers must not let her morph into the daughter of Quincy.
The writing of this show is usually spare, disciplined, and tough, but then so was Emily Dickinson's poetry. All good writers know that what is repressed can be far more affecting than the over-top-outbursts common in more reel police work. But in real police work the first rule is: A heart worn on a sleeve puts the officer out of uniform. Sleeves are for service stripes only.
Ironically, it is Homicide's dramatic discipline that has kept this worthy series from enjoying the success of cop shows more willing to fill the screen with suds and fury. Oh, we might quibble that Homicide ought to temper the tres arty handheld camera and the frantic jump cuts, that this show is too honest for tricked-up visuals. But the background music-blues, rock, gospel-is perfect. Last season when they played Tom Wait's "Cold Cold Ground" and cut from one murder victim to another, we felt the immense power and pain inherent in this edgy, realistic drama
Critics and fans often gripe that TV shows never get it right. This time one has. May it never forget how it got there.
Life on the Set
by Stephanie Williams
There's something comforting about the fact that the Homicide set looks so much like a real squad room. That a show exposing the unvarnished truth about life among Baltimore cops isn't filmed on a Hollywood soundstage but just off a cobblestone street in Fells Point, a hip area in the charming Maryland city that the cast calls home for nine months a year.
Step inside and all the crime-busting equipment is here: bulging file cabinets, desks littered with phone messages, dirty linoleum, fluorescent lights. During breaks, cast members lounge at their desks or head to a nearby coffee bar. This place looks lived in because it is.
Homicide is a real rarity in the TV business: a show that is still on the air despite often unimpressive ratings. After appearing erratically at first (it only aired four times in its second season), it has found a home on Friday night, where it battles to edge out CBS's Nash Bridges for second place behind ABC's 20/20. That's nice, but hardly enough to merit NBC's commitment to 44 new episodes over the course of this season and next. "Luckily, we at NBC are in an enviable position," explains Warren Littlefield, president of NBC Entertainment. "Our success allows us to pick some of our favorites and commit to them, allowing the time to truly be a success."
And so now we join a show already in progress: It has a history and has suffered growing pains. "We're like an outsider who's been accepted but still feels like an outsider," says director Barry Levinson (Rain Man, Sleepers), one of the show's executive producers. Some are wistful for the good old, bad old days, when Homicide was more willfully uncommercial, featuring disconcertingly jerky jump cuts and raggedy editing. While Levinson justly credits NBC for sticking by Homicide (perhaps not coincidentally, NBC studios owns the show and has sold it into syndication on cable's Lifetime), he says there's been pressure all along to make it more mainstream. "When we got here, we didn't care if people followed us or not," mused actress Melissa Leo. "Now, we make a shot look good for the camera."
Still, Homicide is among the most innovative shows on TV. And the opportunity to push the envelope has had film directors like Whit Stillman (Barcelona), Michael Radford (The Postman), and Darnell Martin (I Like It Like That) lining up to direct what are essentially mini-movies. For the upcoming New Year's episode, Oscar-winning documentarian Barbara Kopple shot a short about secrets in the squad room that will appear as the work of squad videographer J.H. Brodie.
The offbeat camera angles and editing cuts may seem like gimmicks but in fact the handheld Minicams have allowed actors with a range of styles, from Andre Braugher's swagger to Clark Johnson's regular-guy rap, plenty of breathing room. "The camera is moving as much as the actors are, so the actors forget the camera's even there." says executive producer Tom Fontana.
Today, as usual, the script involves interoffice squabbles. Yaphet Kotto, as Lieutenant Giardello, is chastising Braugher's and Johnson's characters, but he can't seem to work his tongue around "the acrid aroma of squad-room discontent." And even after a full-length master shot is in the can, it's back to the drawing board. Evey scene is filmed over and over, from each character's point of view. Then it's up to the director-in this case, costar Kyle Secor, making his directing debut-to weave the different takes inot a cohesive scene. While Secor doesn't seem to be sweating it as he takes a moment to joke with the crew after watching the action on a monitor, when the set breaks for lunch at a church down the street, he carries a book on film editing to read at the table.
Later, back on the set, the shoot enters the homestretch. Braugher who dramatically blasted through the squad room in an overcoat and hat, reappears in jeans and a button-down shirt to do some looping, or rerecording the sound for a scene. He stands in front of the familiar board where the names of homicide victims are written in black and red, and clears his throat.
"Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn," Braugher says, his rich intonation revealing his Shakesperean background. "Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn-Is that it?" he asks after several takes. And it is. He gives a tiny bow, and the crew laughs and gives him a hand.
Richard Belzer "This is the best job I've ever had," says the surprisingly soft-spoken Belzer, who plays cynical detective John Munch. And coming from Belzer, the popular comic with the biting wit, that's saying a lot. The actor has earned a loyal following for his comedy specials, TV-movies, and features (most recently "Get On The Bus," with costar Braugher). "I like Munch,' says Belzer, who agrees with the TV critic who once referred to the detective as "Lenny Bruce with a badge." "It's the best of both worlds: I get to do the straight dramatic acting and invest a character with humor, which is true to how these guys are. Homicide detectives see so much horror every day that the humor becomes a reflexive thing."
Andre Braugher Hotheaded, volatile, brilliant, mercurial, tempestuous: That's the Det. Frank Pembleton Homicide fans have come to love, the one that earned him an Emmy nomination last season. "I've been that detective for so many years that I really need something new," says Braugher from "the Box," the site of Pembleton's driven interrogations as well as of his dramatic stroke. While the word is that the "old Frank" is coming back, the actor, who appears in HBO's "The Tuskegee Airmen", hopes the stroke will alter Frank for the better, "Change is hard," he says, "but I'd like to [play] a man who's more appreciative. The quandary becomes that the audience really caught on to the character three years after we debuted. And they want their guy back.
Melissa Leo Off-camera, Melissa Leo looks out of place at a messy squad-room desk, almost too fragile to tote a gun. But roll the camera and she's Kay Howard, a tough sergeant bemused by the neurotic men around her. "Kay and I both work in a predominantly male environment, but we handle it differently," says the actress. "I feel isolated quite a log. There's a football in this room that they have never thrown to me. And I've begged - begged!" (To get in on the action, she brought in a Hacky Sack.) "Kay has given me all kinds of strength," Leo adds. "She doesn't isolate herself. She gets right in there. And that is how she has not only survived but succeeded in this career."
Kyle Secor Kyle Secor is as likable as his character, Det. Tim Bayliss, but more easygoing and a good deal brainer - which has made the Tacoma native a favorite with the Homicide crew. Bayliss has been a touchstone for the audience since the series pilot, when the rookie was partnered with the domineering Frank Pembleton. "The writers have been very good about the slow developement of Bayliss, and that's been exciting," says Secor, who describes his alter ego as repressed and troubled - and finally ready to come into his own. "He realizes that to grow as a detective, he has to move past Frank. He and Frank may come back together or they may not. But there comes a point where he goes, 'Oh, it's not a marriage.' "
Yaphet Kotto He's recognized around the world for his roles in "Live and Let Die," "Midnight Run," "The Running Man," and "Alien" - but even if he weren't an actor, the physically imposing Kotto would be tough to ignore. While Kotto enjoys action films ("I love things exploding"), "When Barry Levinson calls, you don't say no," he says. Working on a series "is like jumping on the back of a rocket headed straight for the moon. You've got to do a whole movie in a week," says Kotto, who plays Lt. Al "Gee" Giardello, who's half African-American and half Italian. "I probably have the best of all the characters in terms of his being a colorful guy. But [the writers] have kept me form having any romances. Everybody else has their little affairs except Giardello. Isn't that strange?"
Reed Diamond "For a while, I felt like a star pitcher they brought up from the rookies and then they didn't kow where to put me in the lineup," says Diamond, who joined the cast last season as Det. Mike Kellerman, a transfer from the arson unit. "This year, I've gotten to step up to the plate." Kellerman has been under fire for allegedly accepting bribes, and the episodes have been so grueling on the actor that he's come down with a case of pink eye. "I think Kellerman embodies what real-life cops go through," says Brooklyn-born Diamon, who once considered a career on the force. "These guys are idealists. None of them come on the job as cynics."
Michelle Forbes "I seem to often play what are perceived as edgy, tough, intense women - I'm 5'10", my voice is low," says Forbes, a Texas native who's best known for playing David Duchovny's girlfriend in 1993's "Kalifornia" and for roles on "Guiding Light" and "Star Trek: The Next Generation". When offered the chance to join the cast this season as Chief Medical Examiner Julianna Cox, the actress says she jumped. "These people aren't sympathetic, and that attracted me. This is a woman who has struggles, who has to go in and run a morgue." Cox has already joined the angst brigade, coping with the death of her father and starting a romance with Kellerman. And she's come to grips with the affect that the gritty jobs have on those who do them: "You face death every day. Does that make your life more [meaningful] or more futile? You're going to be both depressed and hopeful."
Max Perlich Like the scrappy videographer he's played since last year, Max Perlich is a storyteller - and the actor has plenty of tales to tell, having befriended some strange characters while appearing in such well-received films as "Beautiful Girls," "Drugstore Cowboy," "Rush," and "Georgia." (Look for him in upcoming directorial efforts from Johnny Depp and Kiefer Sutherland.) As for the endearing J.H. Brodie, who's become a sort of squad mascot, Perlish says, "Brodie is a master of disguising what's really going on in his life. He's a very sorry fellow. If he's annoying, it's because he's trying to be liked. It's a retro role, almost. The way I think about it is, he's one of the Bowery Boys."
Clark Johnson The charming Johnson may be the link between Homicide's past and present: He's directing an independent movie starring Belzer and former castmates Jon Polito and Ned Beatty; he also appeared with newcomer Michelle Forbes in an NBC TV-movie, "The Prosecutors." And his character, Meldrick Lewis, has ties as well: Once paired with Crosetti (Polito), who committed suicide, he's now paired with Kellerman. "I love it that [suspects] would underestimate Meldrick and think he's just a happy-go-lucky guy," says Johnson, who's set to direct his third episode of the show. "Because I'll come up underneath you and you won't know what happened. I want to be your friend. I want you to confide in me and tell me what really happened because you'll feel better. If I've got you in the Box, and you've just killed your sister? I'll say, 'Yeah, sometimes I want to kill my sister....' That's the fun of playing Meldrick."
