Before streaming
existed there was a time when – almost always late at night – you would be
channel chasing. Surfing through hundreds of channels looking for something to
hold your attention before you went to bed.
Usually it was a movie, sometimes it was a late night show, you know, just
something to kill time.
And then, usually
by accident, you found it. An episode of
a series you had watched long ago (or in the recent past) that was now being
syndicated on a network you didn’t know existed. You stopped changing channels
and with laser like intensity, you watched that channel alone for thirty
minutes or an hour. It had been a show
you watched, sometimes with intensity, sometimes your devotion flagged. Some of these series were among the greatest
ever made, some of them merely very watchable.
But for whatever reason, this episode in particular was one of your
all-time favorites, one that you never got tired of watching no matter how many
times you’d seen it before. It might be a comedy, it might be sci-fi, it might
be a procedural. It might even be one of those serialized programs that have made
television great in the last decade.
And it might not
be the best episode of that series in the conventional sense – other episodes
might have won more awards or been fan-favorites in a way that this episode
just didn’t. But it’s your favorite episode of this series and you will never
get tired of rewatching it.
The Internet and
many publications are always fond of ranking the greatest episodes in TV
history. TV Guide seems to do every decade or so; there’s are blogs about
online, most of them having to do with fan ratings and they will be broken down
often by genre. I’ve done more than a
few over the years. In a way, this series of articles will be a variation of
this. In a more important way, it won’t be.
I have been reviewing
TV for nearly half my life. I can tell you why an individual series is a
classic and why I think some are overrated. I can tell you why I love some genres
more than others. I can tell you what series are the greatest of all time. But
one thing I have never attempted – and very few critics have tried to do – is what
makes an individual episode of television rewatchable. Not necessarily one of
the greatest of all time – though some of the ones that will be part of this
series will fit in that meter – but why we are drawn to them again and
again. This is true in some of the most
iconic series of all time which have several extraordinary episodes. I know
that critics and fans consider the ‘Once More, With Feeling’ episode of Buffy
the Vampire Slayer one of the greatest of all times and it is but
there are reasons I would prefer episodes such as ‘Hush’ or ‘Fool For Love’
more watchable. (Are either of those going to be an episode I talk about here?
You’ll have to keep reading this column.) Similarly Law and Order has
been going on forever and has so many individually great episodes that I
seriously doubt anyone can agree on a consensus. The episode I always am drawn to, no matter
how times I’ve watched it already, is one of the very first one they ever did
and that is because it’s one of the most powerful.
Some of these
series are not classics in the way television views them: they are merely very
good shows that every so often produced an episode that, no matter how many
years have gone by, I can’t get them out of my head. I don’t think anyone would
shows call Major Crimes or Chicago Hope masterpieces but they
were capable of producing episodes that were searing or left an impression I’ve
never been able to shake.
I may have mainly
given reference to drama in this column, but comedies do have the same hold on
me. In this case, the lion’s share of them are real classics and some merely
underrated. All of them are screamingly funny, even if they aren’t the episode
that most fans love when they think of it.
This series of articles
will go into detail some of the episodes that have given me the greatest
pleasure or fondness over my more than a quarter of a century watching
television. A couple of provisos: with one or two critical exceptions, none of
these episodes are of streaming series because they do not fall under the same
concept as what I am discussing. That being said, there have been a couple of
streaming series over the years that have produced episodes that I have
repeatedly come back to in my life and I feel they do merit discussion.
I should also add
that while I consider several of these episodes rewatchable, if you want to seek
them or the series they’re on out, it’s going to take a major effort. Some of
them aren’t on streaming, only DVD and in a few cases you may not be able to
find them on American made DVDs. I list them here because when the series in
question was in syndication, I never missed a chance to watch the episode if I
came across them.
And it goes without
saying that all of these articles will contain spoilers. It’s a necessity given
that the only way to explain why I consider them rewatchable is to give away
every reason. Then again, most of these episodes are decades in the past, and the
whole point of this series is to explain why you’d rewatch them even if you
know what’s going to happen.
Anyway, here we
go.
Major
Crimes:
‘Boys
Will Be Boys’
Those of you who
have read my blog over the last few years in particular know that I have gone
through a major reassessment of TNT’s The Closer. While I initially
thought the Kyra Sedgwick series was an undervalued masterpieces, I know consider
her character of Brenda Lee Johnson as the prime example of everything that is
wrong with policing in America today. I
believe I once considered her a Karen before the term was founded, and that’s
actually putting it mildly: she was a control freak, a habitual liar to
everybody, who never listened to anyone, including her fellow detectives or her
eventual husband, who basically thought her badge gave her a license to put
people in jail – and if she couldn’t do that, arrange it so they died rather
than face justice. I often wonder if the
Innocence Project could have set up a branch dealing with the cases that Priority
Homicide investigated.
I have also made
it clear that the spin-off – really, a follow-up – Major Crimes was an
infinitely superior show even though it essentially had the exact same cast
with a few minor additions and Sedgwick completely absent. And indeed, the writers
and creative forces were essentially the same. Why do I think this? Because the
moment Kyra Sedgwick left the series, every other character on the show somehow
managed to gain at least twenty IQ points and another dimension. In The
Closer every character was more or less a cliché, only there to make Sedgwick’s
character shine brighter. On Major Crimes, the unit worked as a team
with each detective having more layers than they were ever able to show under
Sedgwick’s tenure.
There are several
episodes of the series I have enjoyed rewatching in the nearly six years since Major
Crimes ended in 2017 but the one that has the greatest hold on me, even a
full decade after it aired is Boys Will Be Boys. This episode was edgy because
it dealt with an issue that was only starting to become gradually discussed in
2013 – gender identity issues – and deals with the very real horrors it can
lead to, not merely for the person involved but for the nearest and dearest.
The episode opens
with a missing child. A hysterical parent calls 911 and tells them frantically
his daughter Michelle is missing. Major Crimes, led at first by Detective Flynn
(Tony Denison) and the videographer, Buzz (Phillip Keene) go to the Brand
house. There they meet John, the father (Craig Sheffer) and Michelle’s older
brother, Matt. Both of them are certain that Michelle has been the victim of an
online bully, who earlier that same week sexually assaulted her in a mall
bathroom and posted the pictures online. Buzz looks at the photos and asks the
obvious question: “Is Michelle a boy?”
The center of the
story is clear divide between the parents about Michelle. John is warm and
supportive, while admitting his initial resistance. Anne (Gail O’Grady) keeps
referring to her as ‘Michael’ and keeps snarling at John, blaming him for what’s
going on. Eventually Lt. Tao, the tech expert tracks down the bully who posted
the pictures and Detective Sanchez (Raymond Cruz) chases him down at his house.
Sanchez is almost always habitually angry
towards the people in the interrogation room, but there have rarely been few
subjects who deserve it than Lewis Gates. He continuously refers to Michelle as
‘it’, feels no remorse for what he has done, even though it constitutes not
just on-line harassment but sexual battery of a minor. His attitude would almost seem
one-dimensional were it not sadly so typical even today.
Provenza (the always
wonderful G.W. Bailey) considers a critical missing. Provenza is by far the
senior detective on this force and has always had difficulty dealing with so
many of the changes in today’s world. Often this is a source of comedy. Here it
isn’t. Provenza clearly has an idea going forward what he is going to find, and
we’re not entirely shocked when the first act ends and he and Flynn have found
Michelle’s body, with her skull smashed in.
The entire squad
is saddened by this but Provenza and Flynn, who have been here the longest,
very quickly see that there is something even darker afoot. Michelle’s body has
been buried. Her eyes have been closed. Her body has been positioned to look
like she has gone to sleep. These are not the actions of someone who is the
victim of a hate crime. There is
something terribly sad in the way Provenza tells them to search the house. “Family
first, as I always say.” Then he orders one of the detectives to go to the
Brand home, gather the shoes and bag them separately.
Sharon Raydor, the
head of the division (Mary McConnell, who is always incredible) has been doing
her level best to maintain authority, but its clear this crime has already hit
her hard. When she goes to see her ex-husband (Tom Berenger) and asks him to watch
over her foster son, he asks her what happens. He gently says: “So it’s a hate
crime.” And she says: “Every crime is to somebody.” Later on, looking over the
body, the ME says: “I can never get used to this.” Raydor says: “Let’s hope we
never do.”
She then notifies
the family. Their collective reaction is troubling. Anne and John immediately
begin to start yelling at each other, blaming each other for their daughters
death. An infuriated Todd shouts at them to stop pretending this was all about
Michelle. John’s reaction is very
strange, at least to the detectives. He wants to see Michelle’s body. The
second act ends with him shouting that demand at a closed door.
They find
inconsistencies in John’s story. He was not stuck in traffic at the time of
Michelle’s death; he was in Santa Monica looking for an apartment. He also
moved $80,000 out of his account. Sharon is trying to hit him, so she agrees to
his request to see his daughter’s body. Flynn takes John to the morgue and tries to talk him out of it.
John walks in, sees his daughter on a slab, and collapses in grief. Watching from outside Sharon asks Flynn if
that changes his opinion. His response is cold: “He looks guilty. Most
murderers break down when they see what they’ve done.”
Sheffer is a good
actor whose career started out like gangbusters in A River Runs Through It but
never received the same respect or prominence as his co-star Brad Pitt. In the scene
afterward, you get a sense of just how good he is and he seems completely numb
to the questioning. “Time’s come to a complete stop,” he tells the cops. Then
he explains his actions. He was moving to Santa Monica to establish residency
in order to change schools for Michelle. She hadn’t wanted to go back after
being bullied. He cashed in his retirement fund to pay for hormone replacement
therapy.
We now cut back to
Anne, who is maintaining her level of barely held contempt for what Michelle
wanted, saying that’s it was expensive and not the kind of decision ‘a child
whose only thirteen should make’. She says she was just trying to be a good
mother. At this point Provenza, who is interviewing her with Sharon says: “This
shovel calls your parenting skills into question.”
He and Sharon tell
her they found the shovel in the trunk of her car, and that it has the same dirt
found on her daughter’s grave. She continues to dig a hole for herself,
eventually saying: “I am a good mother.” Provenza then says: “Mrs. Brand, we
have reached the point in our relationship where the lying has to stop.” Anne
says: “I am a good mother, and I want a lawyer.”
In the penultimate
act, Provenza, Raydor and DA Rios (Nadine Velasquez) are discussing the
problems with the case. Rios has already proven herself to be squeamish around
blood (she attended the autopsy but didn’t look at the corpse). Provenza shows
the pictures of the positioning of the body and compares it to that of Michelle
lying in bed. Rios looks away and Provenza loses his patience. “No you look at
it!” It’s rare he gets this angry at
anyone. Rios argues that the case will
put the victim on trial. Provenza snaps and demands another DA “who isn’t
afraid of losing in a good cause!” He
then shows a rare sign of humanity, admitting that he’s having trouble wrapping
his head around on it and he understands the jury will too, but he doesn’t care
because this child has been beaten to death and deserves justice.
However at this
point Raydor, who has been looking at the phone logs of the service, has made a
connection that throws everything open – and if anything makes the ending even
more heart-wrenching. Provenza and Raydor go to talk with John and Todd (Anne
has been arrested and is waiting a hearing). Then Sharon tells him a truth that
a mother would know. Teenagers don’t call, they text. But Todd called Michelle’s
cell phone nearly a hundred times while she was missing. And then fifty times
more after she was dead. “So you could hear her voice again.”
The look on Mr. Brand’s
face when this is revealed is heartbreaking. And in a way what happens next
explains why Major Crimes was a better show than The Closer was.
While Brenda always saw the world in binary terms, every so often Major
Crimes would see that there were more levels.
Todd went to pick
up Michelle when she called him. And Michelle started telling Todd that she and
her father were moving to Santa Monica. Todd unravels saying that everything in
his life has been about Michelle and he has been living in the chaos. This action will snap the final thread that
has been holding the Brand family together – and Michelle (who we see in a
flashback) doesn’t seem to care. “She thought I’d be happy for her!” he shouts.
I don’t pretend
that Todd’s actions aren’t horrific – he beat his sister to death with a bat,
and his final remark to his father is singularly cruel. (I won’t repeat it
here.) But the viewer can’t help but feel the tiniest bit of sympathy for him,
if not his actions. We hear so much about the horrors that those who need
gender affirming care need, the violence that they must go through, the prejudice
that they have to live through every day. We never hear about the collateral damage
that their families have to go through. Is the story of the Brand family more
extreme that all the ones we hear about it? Honestly I think it was the norm
more than the exception, and it probably still is now. How does a father, a
mother, a sibling, live in this world and keep their sanity? I
honestly think the reactions of all three survivors of Michelle’s death are
mirror images of what those with the families of gender identity disorder have
to live through every day.
I think that’s why
every time ‘Boys Will Be Boys’ airs I watch it. We can’t say its any less
relevant than it was ten years ago. In a grim irony, some channels took it out of syndication
because some people believed the terms in the episode amounted to ‘hate speech’.
That’s the very reason we need to watch it over and over. We need to know not
only those people are out there, but so much of the issues that are involved are
never easy to deal with.
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