The Most Rewatchable Episodes of All Time: Homicide: Life on the Street - Work Related

 

Homicide: ‘Work Related’

Note: I’ve been meaning to write this article for a while but the passing of Andre Braugher this past week has made me feel a special reason to do. I dedicate this article to both him and Richard Belzer.  You can play cards with Gee and Crosetti now. (Homicide fans will understand this tribute.)

Calling any one episode of Homicide rewatchable is something of a misnomer. Of the 123 episodes that the series created over seven seasons, I would say at most only nine or ten have little value in rewatching – and even then, they were still superior to almost ninety percent of television in the 1990s. But if there is an episode that I’ve had a special fondness for over the entire run of the series is the Season 4 finale ‘Work Related’.

In part it is due to personal reasons – I started watching Homicide halfway through that year and have had a fondness for many of the episodes in that year – but the fans of the show have always held it fairly highly in regard. In a poll conducted by Court TV when the series was in syndication there, fans voted it the twelfth greatest episode in the series entire run.  And there are many reasons to admire it that hold up in addition to both the show and how television worked.

First a brief history of the series. When it debuted in 1993, Homicide only had nine-episode season. The executives at NBC were uncomfortable with what would be the third episode of that year ‘Night of the Dead Living’ and convinced the producers to make it the final episode of the year. When the series was renewed in 1994, only four episodes aired and again the executives intervened by forcing the creators to move the season finale ‘Bop Gun’ to the first episode in the run. In their defense, the episode featured Robin Williams in a rare TV appearance and the executives found that would goose the ratings – which it did. ‘Bop Gun’ was the highest rated episode in the show’s history and is another of the best the series ever put on the air.

When the series finally got a full season renewal no one connected with the show was sure it was going to come back for a fourth season – Homicide perpetually lived on the bubble and it had only been given a full twenty episodes by the skin of its teeth. So the writers brought back Barry Levenson, one of the show’s co-producers to direct the episode ‘The Gas Man’. The episode featured Bruno Kirby as a man who has been released from prison for installing a faulty heater. He has been picked up by his friend and his intention is to kill Frank Pembleton, the detective who put him in prison on what he considers a bogus charge. The episode involves both Pembleton and the entire squad only tangentially; most of the episode we are following Kirby and his somewhat dimwitted friend, played in a rollicking comic performance by the talented character actor Richard Edson as the two of them play a Mutt and Jeff act pursuing Frank to a 70s disco soundtrack.  It’s the kind of episode that no police procedural would have done in the 1990s but Homicide would do a variation on two or three times a year.

Homicide was renewed for a fourth season, minus some first season cast members and began to take on a pattern that was considered formulaic by fans of the early seasons but was still mesmerizing for any other show on TV in the 1990s. There was a method to the madness: the show had to boost its ratings in order to get a chance to come back the next season. And it worked big time: by the spring of 1996, Homicide was given a two season renewal of twenty-two episodes each, a reflection of the confidence Warren Littlefield, then head of NBC, had in the property.

So in May of 1996 Tom Fontana and James Yoshimura began to plan their first season finale with an eye towards the show’s future. And as a result, they were able to deal with what could have been a huge problem for it.

Andre Braugher over the last two seasons had moved from part of the ensemble to the breakout star of the show. Pembleton in the interrogation room had now become Homicide’s zone (all too often at the expense of his co-stars, who graciously never objected) and it had led to some of the greatest drama of the series. But  by early 1996, Braugher was started to become frustrated with his character not having any range besides that.  So Fontana and Yoshimura would craft a plan to one of the most radical moves that any television series would do in the pre-Sopranos era.

It's worth noting what happened in the penultimate episode of the season: ‘The Wedding’ which was so bizarre that it almost seemed more like a soap opera. Meldrick Lewis (Clark Johnson) showed up at the squad, told everybody he was getting married that day, and recruits the entire squad to plan his impromptu wedding. He has not even mention that he is dating anyone, much less a fiancée and the entire squad, including his partner Mike Kellerman (Reed Diamond) believe that is a practical joke.  The squad is so busy that Kay Howard and Lieutenant Giardello himself go out to investigate the murder of a Howard Stern like shock jock. They are given a tip on the killer as a Raymond Desassy and when they approach him Desassy pulls a gun and Gee shoots him. They learn immediately afterward not only was Desassy not the killer, the suspect only did it as a practical joke on his friend. That night the wedding does take place and in the midst of the partying Frank’s very pregnant wife (Ami Brabson, Braugher’s real life wife) goes into labor. When you throw in the fact that the episode featured an appearance by Kay Howard’s sister Carrie, who was played by ‘Margaret May’ was actually Melissa Leo, who played Howard herself – and you have the makings of the kind of sweeps episode that was all too common at the end of a season.

I am inclined to think now that the writers were engaging in not only misdirection but also laying the groundwork for storylines that would play out not only in the next episode but for the next several seasons for many of the characters. And because we’d seen so many bizarre things in the previous episode, we might think that the season finale will have no more surprises for us.

Indeed, what may be the most remarkable thing about ‘Work Related is that well into the third act, is how ‘ordinary’ it is compared to how season finales worked then and now. Usually we are given proliferations of ads about how everything will change or how the whole season has led up to this. (That was truer of shows like The X-Files and other mythology shows.) But for the first forty minutes of the episode we truly believe everything that might happen has happened in the episode before.

In the teaser Bayliss (the always excellent Kyle Secor) is somewhat annoyed that he is happier about his partner’s new baby that the always dour Frank seems to be. (Frank finally admits he happy before they get out of the car.) As is always the way, they are at a crime scene. Two people have been killed at a fast food restaurant, another young man has been shot and is on his way to the hospital. As the investigation evolves, they come to the conclusion that the perpetrator is an Eloise Pfeiffer, a former employee and the boyfriend of one of the victims. (We see Frank and Tim visiting the families of both victims and see their dismay.) Alex McKenzie, the young man in the hospital, says he was a friend of Eloise Pfeiffer and that Pfeiffer shot him in the knee when he recognized him. Tim goes to Pfeiffer’s house and Eloise isn’t home.

Meanwhile Lewis is back from his honeymoon and Kellerman is teasing about leaving him hundreds of condoms. Lewis answers the phone and says they have a killing on the highway. As it turns out what has happened is that someone from the highway has died when someone dropped a bowling ball on his head. (Lewis, typical with his puns, says this might be a red ball.) He seems way to focused on investigating what Kellerman knows is going to be a stone cold whodunit and wonders why Meldrick doesn’t want to go home to Barbara. Meldrick then tells him that he and his wife have not consummated their marriage.  At the end of the first act, Kellerman tries to get Meldrick to talk about his marriage and he says: “No we’re talking about my divorce. As of half an hour ago, Barbara and I are separated.” We never get a clear idea what went wrong with Meldrick’s marriage and not even he can truly explain it. That night, he goes with Mike to sleep on his houseboat.

That same night Tim convinces Frank to go home to the Pembleton house for dinner. (He actually complained that he’d been partnered with Frank for four years and never been to his house in an episode earlier this season.) Frank does not want Tim to come to his house, so naturally Tim asks Mary. “Your wife likes me,” he points out cheerily. That night Frank and Tim sit over the infant who they have named Olivia. Frank, in a rare moment of openness, expresses all of the concerns that he has for his daughter. Frank entire work persona is that of being superhuman so it is rare to see him showing doubts. Of course because he’s Frank he says that he’s worried that one day Olivia will grow up and bring a man just like Tim home and say she wants to marry him “I’m not good enough for your daughter,” Tim says straight-faced. “No. No you are not,” Frank says just as deadpan.  After giving his daughter a gift, Tim goes down to dinner. “I love you, Olivia,” he says in a sweet tone.

The next day the restaurant manager – his restaurant is deserted, even though they have reopened – tells Bayliss and Pembleton something he withheld. He saw Eloise Pfeiffer come into the restaurant but with Alex McKenzie. The two of them came in together and left together, which is at odds with what he told them.  Leaving the restaurant Pembleton learns that McKenzie has checked out but intends to bring him in: “Because bad knee or not, I want his ass in the box.

Howard and Giardello are talking about the Desassy shooting and Giardello mentions how hard it is to go in the room every day and see a reminder of the murder he committed on the board. (Almost in passing we see the Lugo shooting was solved in interim; typically with the show, the actual identity of the killer is irrelevant to the story.) Munch (Richard Belzer) tells Frank and Kay that Pembleton has a suspect in the box “but he doesn’t know he’s a suspect.” Gee and Howard walk out and Gee pauses looking at the board before leaving. Howard walks to the board and erases Desassy’s name. “Sergeant’s prerogative,” she says before following him.

There is nothing in the interrogation of Alex McKenzie that gives any sign that anything radical is going to happen. McKenzie is there with his attorney, Russom (the regular who seemed to defend every accused murderer in Baltimore). Bayliss starts the questioning in a friendly tone, and Pembleton just sits there, holding his head in his hands. In hindsight that might have been a warning, but by this the viewer is so familiar with Frank that we’re pretty sure this is just a tactic of his.  Bayliss leads the questioning for a minute about Alex’ relationship with Eloise and Mary Rose for nearly a minute and a half before Pembleton finally starts to talk. He doesn’t stall.

“I’m confused. And the worst part is, I shouldn’t be,” he says. “I’ve got two dead bodies in the morgue. I’ve got the identity of the shooter. I’ve even got an eyewitness. But still, I’m confused.”

He then begins to pull apart the story that Alex told him that goes against the manager. Russom sees the problems and whispers in his ears. Bayliss asks if Alex can tell them how he got outside. Alex whispers in Russom’s ear and tells them that Eloise shot the two victims then Alex. He followed him outside. Frank says: “I’m still confused. You said you followed him. Why would you follow someone who just shot you?” Alex tries to intervene and Russom says: “He had been shot he wasn’t thinking clearly.” Both Frank and Tim start chuckling. “Good answer! Great lawyer!” Tim says.

Frank then presents the medical report, which tells them that there are only two types of blood in the restaurant, neither of which is Alex. “Are you saying you got shot in the restaurant but you didn’t bleed in it?” Alex and the lawyer are blustering, but Frank and Tim both know they’ve got him.  Frank starts to lay out what happened and says the two of them went outside and Alex said something like “We’re never gonna get away with this. Eloise panicked, shot you too.” Then he walks to Alex’s left.

“I don’t have a trigger man, counselor. I got the next best thing, an accessory. Tell your client how many years he’s gonna do in Jessup. Tell your client. I know you didn’t pull the trigger, son, I know that, but two people are dead and you got…”

Frank never finishes the sentence.

By this point Frank has put his hand on Alex’ shoulder. In a moment that went down in television history, Frank’s grip on Alex’s shoulder tightens and he begins to shake violently. Tim starts to freak out as Frank grabs his head and collapses on Alex and Russom. A freaked out Russom recoils and Frank hits the floor.

In the next minute, we see a series of faded shots of Bayliss and other detectives trying to say something, flashes of Frank on the street, blood, cuts of Warner brothers cartoons and finally Frank’s body in the morgue. Frank is standing over it saying no and tells himself to get up.

We cut back to the box where half the squad and paramedics are gathered. Munch, usually the coolest of the squad, is frantically trying to get them to take Frank to a hospital. Finally Frank begins to mutter and they hear: “Get me a cigarette.” Everyone looks relieved for a moment – and then Frank starts to seize again.

One of the paramedics tells everybody that this a possible CVA. Tim shouts: “What the hell is a CVA?!” The paramedic says the scariest word possible: “Stroke.”

They load Frank into the ambulance and Tim gets into the back with his partner. The last words before it rides off are from him: “Somebody call Mary!”

In the final act of the episode Meldrick and Kellerman show up at the squad room to see everybody going to the hospital. When Munch tells them Frank had a stroke, Lewis says: “That’s funny.” Howard has to tell them that it’s serious.

The squad drives to the hospital but it is telling that unlike most cop shows, Giardello immediately sends everybody back because the work can not stop. He tries to send Tim back to finish closing the case but Bayliss absolutely refuses to go. Gee knows better than to try and push, and he reassigns the case to Munch and his partner Russert. (Russert has the lightest case load.)

The case almost gets wrapped up incidentally, in typical Homicide fashion, though there are some typical parts to it. The detectives need to be brought up to speed with what happened and it turns out that Eloise came to the restaurant and had really wanted to kill the manager who had fired him because he had called him a slacker. They are told where to find Eloise, but by the time they do he has hung himself with a note around his neck. “I’m not a slacker,” are his last words.

We are more concerned with what is happening in the hospital. Frank, who works in a high pressure job and is a heavy smoker has suffered from a stroke and has swelling around the brain. Tim spends time talking about how much he has learned from Frank over the years and how much he admires his approach to being ‘murder police’.  “Every death must be avenged,” Tim says. “They are equal in death if they can not be equal in life.” Both Gee and Tim commiserate and Gee tries to assure Tim that Frank will be okay. Tim is concerned he will not be as good a cop without Frank around.

The final scenes of the episode show Mary and Tim talking with his treating physician while Frank is still in a coma. Mary wants answers and the doctor tells them: “The truth is, we don’t know how extensive the damage will be.” Mary bursts into tears and Tim holds her. The camera pans to Frank’s bedside – and then we cut to Frank in a coffin with a window. “Hey, let me out of here!” we hear him shout in a muffled voice. “Hey let me out. What are you doing?” We see him pound on the wall of the coffin, trying in vain to break out. The end titles play over Frank’s shouts to be heard.

Andre Braugher deservedly received his first Emmy nomination for Best Actor in a Drama in 1996. It was an impressive field with Dennis Franz and Jimmy Smits from NYPD Blue and George Clooney and Anthony Edwards from ER.  Braugher no doubt got in over such more prominent actors as David Duchovny for The X-Files, Daniel Benzali for the critically acclaimed rookie series Murder One and Tom Skerritt for what would be the final season of Picket Fences.

 The series set up the storyline for Pembleton for Season Five. He would return to work but spend nearly half the season chained to his desk, answering phones, and resenting everybody who tried to help him.  This was a more radical move than any TV series had done in a very long time. The show had taken the most eloquent character on TV and essentially cut out his tongue.  We would see Frank shuffling instead of striving, stumbling over simple words and struggling with memory loss. He was no longer Frank Pembleton.

Just as important is the work of Kyle Secor as Bayliss. In recent years Secor’s work as Bayliss has finally begun to get the appreciation it never did when Homicide was on the air.  Bayliss had started out as the outsider on Homicide the doe-eyed innocent who’d transferred to the squad, partnered to the ultra-cynical Frank Pembleton who never wanted a partner in the first place.  Even as he became a more hardened detective, Bayliss was always the most compassionate voice on the show, the conscience of the series, the one most likely to express doubt. Here we see that a vital part of him has been amputated and he shows all of his admiration and doubt for his friend. During the fifth season Secor would do some of his best work  on the series, both trying to find a way forward independent of Frank and then finding himself at loggerheads with him.

It is typical of the police drama to end a season with one of the leads in a hospital bed, but it is always because of some kind of shooting at the hands of a perp. (Homicide itself would do the same two seasons later.) ‘Work Related’ demonstrates unlike any other procedural – and to that point in TV history, few other shows at all – that the drama can be found in what might be considered the mundane.  What might be just as typical of the series is not only that the show seems completely normal for the forty minutes before Frank’s stroke, but that the rest of the squad just goes back to work. In real life – and Homicide was as close to that as you gets for a procedural – the job doesn’t stop when someone you care about goes down.

Homicide would do nearly as many brilliant episodes after Work Related as it had before – indeed, some of its best work would be in the final two seasons. But so much of the drama was not the typical cop shows but that of the mundane and ordinary.  No other show has ever made it clear about not only the significance of a person’s death and yet at the same time how frequently insignificant it could be to the men and women who had to solve them – even if those who fell were the ones who worked with them.