Written by Randall Anderson;
story by Henry Bromell & Jorge Zamacona
Directed by Michael Fields
Years after the fact it would be
clear that of all the cast members of Homicide Ned Beatty was viewed by
the writers they had most difficulty with. Tom Fontana would express as much on
the Season 4 DVD, though he didn't call him out by name.
Part of this frustration was no
doubt caused by Homicide's constantly being on the bubble and an actor
of note like Beatty being unable to take opportunities he might want because he
was tied to a series. Another issue might have been how the series evolved over
time. In the first two seasons it was clearly an ensemble show and Beatty's
role was slightly more prominent even when he wasn't investigating cases. By
Season 3, however, Andre Braugher's exceptional talent had become more obvious
to the writers and he was deservedly being put more front and center. The rest
of the cast would suffer as a result but it was particularly clear for Bolander,
whose character had a much less prominent role in the first half of Season 3.
With no clear idea by this point
in Homicide would be renewed, the writers might have been trying to
hedge their bets in the final third of the season: Bolander is far more front
and center than he has been to this point. To do so they have to rush the
recovery timetable of not only Bolander but Felton and Howard to a ridiculous
standard (see Not By The Book) but this was a case of necessity being
the mother of invention. This isn't really a complaint, either: as someone who
always admired Beatty's work on the show and who wanted to see the rest of the
actors get their due, these episodes stand much closer to the mark of first
season episodes across the board.
From a logical point of view it
also makes sense to deal with the detectives who were shot from the perspective
of Bolander. He is the elder statesman who's been on the job for 27 years and
he was by far the most seriously wounded. His major way of dealing with the
'trim he got at Maryland Shock Trauma' is a natty grey fedora, which combined
with the Orioles scarf he traditionally wears actually works as a fashion
choice for Stan. He spends the episode keeping the hat on at all cost; it's not
until late when he's finally getting ready for the bed we see the horrible scar
and understand that this has nothing to do with vanity.
He also has more of a reason to
be philosophical then usual which considering that Munch is usually the more
pensive one in their partnership is an interesting reversal of the dynamic.
We're not sure how long he spent since being discharged before heading back to
the job (again see below) but his own concern is his mental and psychological
capacity. This adds more layers to Beatty's performance as on his first day
back, he picks up the phone and goes out as primary.
It's clear Stan is dealing with
issues that in part have to do with trauma: when he enters the Warner household
and takes a look up the stairwell, the show lets us know by implication where
his mind is. Munch spends a fair amount of the episode taking on the role of
more of a caretaker than usual: when Stan appears repulsed by how savagely the
Warners have been beaten to death, he slightly takes over the crime scene.
Bolander makes it very clear he resents that fact but as his first day unfolds
the viewer has reason to doubt whether Stan is ready to come back.
It's understandable he'd been
dealing with memory loss issues given what happened to him, and he makes some
errors involving medical terms and with Eldin Warner in certain details. Then
when Munch finds a potential suspect he almost overcorrects by going too hard
at him and John gently pulls him off. That night Russert has to gently tell him
to go home. When he shows up at his partner's house later that night (very
likely for the first time) I almost wondered if he had forgotten where he
lived. The fact that he couldn't sleep and was dealing with nightmares is just
as logical.
As Stan undresses he gives the
kind of rant he's given to John a few times about his life, but this time
there's an air of regret. He's been forced to contemplate his mortality in a
way most of us never do and now he realizes at the end of the day, he doesn't
have anything but the job. "I don't need a will," he tells Munch
sadly. Munch, who usually can't shut up in Stan's presence, doesn't say
anything even to offer false comfort: he lets Stan talk and leaves him to
sleep.
But by the end of the episode
it's clear that Bolander does still have what it takes. When Lyle Warner, the
grandson of the deceased, finally shows up at the house both Munch and Bolander
can sense that something's off in his behavior. For the first time Bolander
seems more like his old self. The interrogation is one of the shows
masterpieces: Munch plays the bad cop when it comes to arguing why he killed
his grandparents and then Bolander tells him to take a walk. Then in the kind
of fatherly way that we've always associated with him in the interrogation room
Stan gets Lyle to confide in him.
It's clear that father and son
have always been distant and ever since Lyle's mother has died it's gotten
worse. He has essentially dumped him on his grandparents to raise him while he
travels the world, making business deals and occasionally doing pro bono work.
It's telling that the father seems more comfortable helping strangers then
spending time with his son. There is something rather distant about Eldin that
he doesn't even seem that bothered to stop his working after his parents are
brutally murdered, not even to arrange their funerals. He doesn't think of
taking his son with him on his long trips abroad and he doesn't even think of
making regular phone calls. (Cell phones did exist in 1995, so that the father
only calls his parents to get in touch with his son is also fairly telling.)
Bolander gets Lyle to admit he was angrier than he'd ever been and that he beat
his grandparents to death with a lacrosse stick. The moment he finishes Stan
gets up, greets Eldin and coolly says: "Your son's going to need a
lawyer," before calmly walking out of the room.
The episode also focuses on how
the other two detectives are doing after the shooting. Felton has clearly done
his time at a desk and Giardello is willing to let him work as a secondary.
Bayliss asks him to go out on a call and Beau is willing. They are called into
find a skeleton that was dug up by an old woman's dog ("Can I keep the
thigh bone?" she asks Bayliss compassionately) and its clear this is a
more personal case to Felton then most. This is 'Billy Town' the area of
Baltimore where essentially the white trash of the city live and Felton grew up
in this area. He takes a certain offense when Bayliss refers to it that way and
Bayliss (who's dealing with reminders of Adena Watson) allows him to take the
lead.
Felton shows a rare amount of
subtlety, perhaps because he knows the neighborhood. He takes the slower of the
Blakey siblings aside, talks to him about the woman who used to make candy and
asks him about the body in the back. It is the father and the Blakey's say they
didn't kill him. They buried him in the backyard because they didn't have the
money for the funeral – something not uncommon among the poor.
This would normally be the end
of it but showing a sense of dedication he didn't have before Felton finds out
that the Blakey siblings haven't reported their father dead because they want
to keep collecting his Social Security checks. (Or maybe they want to put the
work on the Feds, which would also be common for the Baltimore PD.)
Howard is stuck behind a desk
because of being shot in the heart. Is it sexism or seniority that gives
Bolander the authority to go back out on the street despite being shot in the
head? (It's the writers.) Howard's way of dealing with this is that her desk
has been moved to make way for the fax machine and it pisses her off. This is
both amusing and keeping with Kay's character: we already know she's got a
superstitious streak in her the last few seasons and for all her talk of being
a great detective she knows luck has to do with her record as much as skill.
Pembleton's role in this episode
is much smaller than usual (considering he's been front and center much of the
season that's actually a nice change) and when he shows up he treats Kay the
way she likes to be treated. In his case, he's impatient because he's trying to
solve the Gasparino murder and he delegated her to make phone calls. In his
mind her superstition is getting in his way. But in a refreshing change of pace
Kay follows through on the phone calls and figures out who killed the man after
doing interviews. For once Frank is left speechless when he realizes that
someone has done his job better than him and when Kay erased the name and says:
"You're welcome," with just enough arrogance he looks comically
stunned.
But the most significant
storyline on the show has nothing to do with the detectives at all. In the
first half of the episode Giardello has a discussion with Granger about the
plumbing in the building and Granger, for once, agrees to help with no strings.
The strings become clear when the plumbers come and go – and then the toilets
are bubbling and explode. Giardello does some homework and realizes that the
plumbers are involved with Granger's family and that they have been double
billing the city for doing the same job twice. Gee confronts Granger about and
he denies it.
What happens next is
interesting. The following day there's a story in the paper about what Granger
has been doing all this time. When Russert reads it to Giardello, he asks
completely shocked by it – badly. Then he gets a call from Bonfather and he
looks gleeful. It's pretty clear Gee leaked the story to the press: he's done
it before and he will do it again. This time the consequences are greater than
he could think.
Bonfather tells Giardello that
Granger has been forced to retire. (This is Gerald F. Gough's last appearance
on Homicide.) Bonfather has been promoted to Colonel, which leaves his
position open. Gee clearly expects he'll been given the job but instead it's
given to Russert. Giardello knows this is political but he has a read on it:
"75 percent of the voters (in Baltimore)are black," he tells
Bonfather. "And 61 percent are women," Bonfather counters. "Was
merit ever a consideration?" he asks before he leaves.
One could make the argument that
this is the first clear example on Homicide about how merit has nothing
to do with how one is promoted in the police department. (The Wire, Simon's
follow-up show, will state this directly.) But it's worth both Giardello's
character and the circumstances. Giardello has already made it clear the first
three seasons that he has no use for the politics the bosses play; he's butted
heads with them countless times before and he's warned Frank about the kind of
games earlier this season. But the fact remains Granger got fired as a direct
result of Giardello's actions and he clearly expected that he was called up
because he was going to get promoted. This was as political a maneuver as
Giardello has ever done over the years. Did he think he could benefit
from it? He talks about his career as if merit matters but after thirty years
you think he of all better would know better. Besides after all his years of
being a pain in the ass to the bosses, did he truly believe that wasn't going to
be weighed against him?
It must be said that Russert's
promotion to Captain just a few months after becoming shift commander makes
less sense from a realistic standpoint: even if you acknowledge that she was
promoting for political reasons, it seems an acknowledgement that the writers
haven't been able to fit her character into the show as a shift commander and
are now trying to change the game by making her captain. Perhaps they think by
having her butt heads with Al on a regular basis after being his equal, it
would add to more drama particularly given the circumstances. The gambit
doesn't work; by the time the fourth season is less than half over, they will
change her position again, demonstrated that the writers never figured out how
to use Megan Russert properly.
'The Old and the Dead' ends with
Bolander and Howard sitting on the roof, checking in on each other. Both of
them say that they haven't missed a step but you can tell in their voices they
don't have the confidence they should. Because of future events this would also
end up not playing very well for either character but it's still a good note to
end this superb episode on.
NOTES FROM THE BOARD
Not By The Book: I don't so much object to the
recovery time of all three detectives being accelerated as much as they have as
the fact that apparently during that recovery time there have been practically
no murders in Baltimore. Last week, we got up to the 53rd murder so
far in 1995. Somehow in the space of time that Bolander and Howard have been
going through physical therapy and being cleared for the job there's only
been one more murder: the Gasparino case. The alternative is they came back
to work from all of this in one week's time. I don't think either works.
Also though two people were
murdered Warner is written up as one case. This isn't unheard of on the show to
this point: the Billiard Brothers who Munch investigated in the pilot were
written up as one crime. Starting with the next season murders in a family will
each be accounted separately.
Detective Munch: We saw Munch's home for the
first time and we hear him drinking bear and dancing to Lou Reed's 'Next to
You'. He even sings a few bars before letting Stan in.
Opening Teaser: One of the best jokes in the
series. Megan is bickering with her cousin 'Tim' and Felton comes in and
recognizes him as Tim Russert, who at the time was the weekly host of NBC's
Meet The Press. A starstruck Felton tries to ask him about politicians of the
era ("Does Bob Dole have a chance in '96?) and all Megan and Tim can argue
about is the socket wrench set she got him for his birthday present. She
dismisses him: "Go play tennis with Hilary. Play golf with Quayle!"
It's hysterical watching a man we associated with such gravitas tell Isabella
Hoffman: "You know how they say when you're angry, you're beautiful? Well,
you're not!"
Interestingly enough this
unbilled cameo would become canon for Isabella Hoffman's character. When she
was written out of the series, it was said she was introduced to a French
diplomat that her cousin introduced her and she ran off to Paris with him. (Then
again, that may just be talk.)
Hey, Isn't That…This episode marks the debut of
Shawn Hatosy, a child actor who mad appearance in many films in the 1990s
including In & Out, Anywhere But Here and The Faculty. His career began to
slowly accelerate as he got older, particularly in television, where he would
receive acclaim in films such as A Soldier's Girl and Faith of My Fathers.
He finally managed to break
through playing Sammy Bryant on the acclaimed TV Series Southland and has
worked constantly ever since in shows such as Bosch and Fear the Walking Dead.
His first incredible work came as Pope, the silent son on the criminal Cody
family in Animal Kingdom. He has been far busier in the last year starring on
Rescue: Hi-Surf, Chicago PD and on The Pitt as Dr. Jack Abbott.
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