Written
by Paul Attanasio
Directed
by Chris Mesnaul
When
the show debuted its second season Warren Littlefield would brag “It’s a
refined Homicide.” Refined, however, didn’t
mean more cheerful and if anything what was the first episode of Season 2
filmed (but the second aired) Fontana and his colleagues seemed determined to
go into darker and in some ways heavier territory than they had in Season 1. In
order to moderate they kept up with the same kind of off-kilter humor in one of
the underlying subplots in order to deal with two very dark main stories.
The humor
comes from the detectives being forced to endure sensitivity training, by the
nature of the sessions we see, most of it having to doing sexuality. The
opening is something of a misdirection as it begins with Howard, who goes into
surprising depth about the reality of being a woman on the job. Considering how
little personal insight we get into Howard and how much she tries to be one of
the boys, it’s fascinating to see that she does feel the same darkness. She
relates a story, far from uncommon, about coming from a place where two men get
to a fight and one knifes the other to death over a bet on the Super Bowl. Then
she tells the doctor about going to her date with Danvers (their relationship
has progressed) and she says as much as she clearly likes him she can’t help
but wonder: “Are you the kind of guy who could knife someone to death over the Super
Bowl?” This is the kind of cynicism we
will see throughout the show among the detectives so in that sense Howard is an
equal.
After
that the show does get humorous. Naturally Bayliss is the one who is the most inspired
by the doctor and we see them after their session with Bayliss talking like
something of a fanboy. When he learns, however, she didn’t write a book that he
loved he is disappointed and tries to back away which is sweet and funny. Munch
goes to a session and goes out of his way to brag about his relationship with
Felicia (they’re back on again) as well as his sexual prowess which is not
something we want to picture. Dr. Weston manages to realize just how angry Munch
really is and he walks away with impressive insight on his part and a fascinating
discussion with Bolander about male sexuality that has to be seen to be
appreciated.
But
Bolander is loathe to go into therapy for reasons he refuses to acknowledge but
given the nature of his divorce we can suspect the reason. He spends the
episode delaying Gee’s proclivities that eventually become an ultimatum – see Weston
or be suspended without pay. Bolander chooses to be suspended. Munch becomes
infuriated by that (see Detective Munch) and
Bolander finally agrees to go. Naturally he goes out of his way to relate how
he believes therapy is the cause for the failure of his marriage. Weston is
agreeable – which he clearly doesn’t expect – and it leads to some insightfulness
that Bolander hasn’t yet gotten to with his ex. We’ve heard discussion of just
how badly his marriage ended over the first season but to this point he’s
essentially blamed Marge for it. For the first time he seems to realize that
there were things about his life that were never as fulfilling for her and if it
doesn’t quite lead to détente it is a sign of change.
Of
course at the end of this bit of the story Stan tries to ask Dr. Weston on a
date. Weston very gently lets him down, acknowledging that she herself has just
gotten out of a bad relationship. This is the first indication we’ve gotten
that Stan’s relationship with Dr. Blythe is over and that Stan is looking for
love again. We’ll see how that plays out in the next episode.
But
there’s no fun to be found in the two major stories, each of which deal with
the darkest subjects manageable. One of them is a storyline more or less out of
the headlines, the other is directly lifted from Simon’s book.
Up
until this point the show has never really put Beau Felton at the center of a
story the same way it has every other major character. That’s because by and
large he’s not much of a cop: he seems slovenly, unkempt and compared to his partner,
not committed to his job. This goes against what detectives in procedurals were
supposed to be on TV then – and honestly still today. You have to be a good
cop, you can bend the rules, you can be a villain, and you can be a bad cop –
but bad almost always means corrupt, not someone who basically treats his job like
he’s going through the motions. So it’s a daring move of Attanasio to put what
is one of the most controversial ideas and put the worst cop possible at it.
Felton
is visiting the dying father of a friend
Harry Prentice. It’s clear he’s not taking his pills and his attitude is
strange. Even the usually slovenly Felton knows that something bad is going to
happen, to the point he actually raises the subject to Munch. He figures out
Harry Prentice is planning to commit assisted suicide and he goes to his son
Chuckie. It’s clear Chuckie and Beau were childhood friends and the friendship
has stayed closed past that point; Beau clearly views him as a younger brother
and he’s terrified that this will end up getting his friend in prison. He wants
to protect him but he knows he can’t any more. He and Chuckie stop him from
killing himself using a primitive suicide machine (it’s clearly modeled after
the kind of thing Jack Kevorkian would use) and Harry curses both of them.
Those
of you who only know Wilford Brimley as the kindly grandfather time would be
stunned by his work in this episode. In just a few scenes we see a man who is
philosophical, angry at the people who’ve tried to stop him and in the final
scene, determined to die. He essentially bullies his own child into killing
him, and we see that Chuckie hates it but a combination of guilt and the power
of his father force him to do something he finds physically repulsive. We don’t
see the murder take place or even hear the gunshot. All we know is that a few
hours later Lewis and Crosetti are on the scene.
Crosetti
thinks that this is a suicide and there isn’t much to suggest otherwise.
Meldrick thinks that there’s something up here. Lewis and Crosetti can’t find a
clear connection and the only think that will make it clear is if they find
gunshot residue on his hands.
But
by that time Felton has clearly seen Prentice’s name on the board and he goes
to the box where Chucky is waiting. It’s clear that this is also the reason
Felton is the one to do this; for every other detective on the squad this is
not something they would do if one of their friends was in a position like
this. (Later storylines in future seasons will make this clear.) Felton more or less coaches Chuckie on what
to say to the detectives. However Lewis catches him leaving the box and when
Chuckie blunders he goes into the toilet after Felton.
The
scene between the two men is a high point for Baldwin and also for Johnson to
this point on the series. To this point we have yet to see Meldrick truly angry
and when he goes after Felton with a violent streak we haven’t seen in him
before, we can see this isn’t just about Felton messing with a suspect. When he
tells Felton “You go when its time to go and all the rest is homicide!” there’s
a real anger that clearly has to do with his personal beliefs. That he’s
willing to give in to Felton, however, shows for the first time that his
righteousness is often something he is willing to discard when it suits him –
and it clearly unsettles Crosetti when he takes that action. Steve lets it pass
but this is hardly the last time we see Lewis willing to bend the rules when it
doesn’t meet his moral code. In later seasons, this will take a darker tone.
See
No Evil would seem to refer mainly to what Felton is asking Lewis to in the
storyline of the week. But it also applies to the story that doesn’t get quite
as much play in this episode but even looking from what we get – and it’s
critical in more ways than one.
Pembleton
and Bayliss are called out the shooting of C.C. Cox. It’s clear from the start
that this is a police involved shooting. We are met by Lieutenant Tyron and a
lot of rank and file and there’s already a crowd of civilians that do not look
friendly. Tyron claims that Cox was running down the alley, Officer Hellriegel
was chasing after him, slipping and fell, discharged his weapon and that killed
Cox. Bayliss can see the immediate flaw – if Cox was shot in the back, why is
he lying on his stomach? – and the inconsistencies only start to add up from
there
Hellriegel
is defensive from the start and Pembleton tries to be gentle – for him – pointing
out the flaws in his story. Hellriegel then decides to lawyer up and then
Giardello shows up on scene.
This is
when things start to get frightening. In Season 1 Giardello was always loyal to
his detectives and was somewhat fatherly. Now he starts to show loyalty to the
men in uniform – and that quickly turns on Pembleton. After that Pembleton and
Bayliss meet with Giardello, Bonfather and Granger and thinks become very
unsettling. Pembleton thinks Hellriegel is covering for someone and its pretty
clear Cox was beat down. Gee, however, almost immediately starts trying to
argue that maybe a civilian was responsible. Bonfather and Granger start to do
the thing where the bosses are hanging one of their cops out to dry and Giardello
immediately jumps on Hellriegel’s side, arguing he shouldn’t have to carry
this. Pembleton and Bayliss don’t say anything during this period and when Bonfather
decides to go over Giardello’s head to Pembleton, neither detective objects and
we see Giardello silently seething.
In
what is the final scene in the Cox shooting in this episode Pembleton tells Gee
that the bullet in Cox doesn’t match Hellriegel’s gun. Giardello makes it clear
that the kind of gun used has been out of fashion among Baltimore PD since the
late 1960s. He wants Pembleton to move on to civilians. Frank, however, still
thinks a cop is involved.
To
this point Frank and Al’s relationship has been mostly friendly. This scene –
one of the finest in Homicide’s
entire history – crackles with tension. When Giardello starts talking about
police involved shootings he makes it very clear that, in his opinion, almost
every one he has seen has been justified. He also thinks that there is a
greater danger if Frank accuses cops of doing this then if a cop actually did
it. This scene was unsettling to be as a viewer when I first saw it; nearly
thirty years later there’s something horrifying, particularly considering that
Giardello is a black man and Cox is also African-American. That Gee thinks that
blue trumps black in this case is something that probably wouldn’t stun a
viewer today but it takes the shine off the halo of a man we’ve seen as one of
the good bosses.
Pembleton’s
attitude is a different one. What bothers him is a rule that was golden in
Baltimore: if you shoot anyone, you stand by it. That Cox may have been killed
by a cop is bad; that the cops are not willing to take responsibility angers
Frank even more. This is the first sign we have gotten that, in the mind of
Pembleton, that all of us are equal in death and it will be the first step
towards Pembleton becoming more of a lead and, not coincidentally, Andre
Braugher becoming one of the greatest actors in television history.
Pembleton
demands that Gee order every detective to hand over the guns to have them
tested for the one that killed Cox. Giardello adamantly refuses to do so and
warns Frank from crossing this line. For the first time one of the detectives
chooses to go over Giardello’s head when Frank tells him he’s going to have Bonfather
give the order. After he leaves the office, Giardello says in a voice tinged
with quiet rage: “You son of a bitch, Pembleton.”
At
the end of the episode Felton and Chuckie talk about the old man and how
Chuckie has spent his entire life under the weight of his father and how the
only time his father felt proud of him was when he killed him. Felton says,
almost off-handedly “At least you knew your father.” In philosophical dialogue
Felton talks about trying to let the past go and trying to move away from his
father’s shadow and then takes him home for dinner with his wife. The irony is
that Felton’s marriage has always been troubled and in a short while will
completely implode. Baldwin will never get a chance to speak from a place of advice
going forward; in the next season everything he’s held dear is going to
completely self-destruct.
NOTES FROM THE BOARD
Cox’s murder is based on the real-life shooting of John Randolph
Scott and is highlighted in Simon’s book. The case was never closed. On TV in
1994 that wouldn’t do.
Detective Munch: Many superb moments, but the best comes after Bolander
hands over his badge. Munch tracks him down in a bar, demands hemlock and then
essentially goes into a standup routine in front of a group of patrons as to
how he can only partner with a man who gives him so much abuse and his plans
afterwards. Bolander agrees to go to therapy and Munch’s reaction is “Don’t do
me any favors.” The humor as much from these patrons who alternate amused looks
along with “Is this guy crazy?” and when Munch leaves the bartender asks Bolander
who he is. “My rabbi,” Bolander says straight-faced.
Hellriegel has a small role in the next episode but he will
disappear after this. However five years later the show will remember him and
in a sense we’ll learn he learned nothing from this horrible experience at all –
or maybe he did.
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