Homicide Rewatch: Colors

 

Written by Tom Fontana

Directed by Peter Medak

 

In 1995 network television was still uneasy about how current it wanted its programs to be: just timely enough not to seem out of touch with the modern world but not timely enough so that by the time it got to syndication the references to current events would lose its viewers. This was particularly true of comedies such as Murphy Brown and Saturday Night Live but some dramas such as L.A. Law had the same issues going forward.

In that sense Homicide was very much in the sweet spot for drama in the 1990s. While many of its stories were based on real-life events, they were unknown except to the detectives involved and therefore never went out of style. Because the show took place in one of the most African-American cities in the country, then and now, the majority of the issues involving the war on drugs and crime as well as racial and police involved stories remain just as timely today as they do in 1995. So on the rare occasions when the writers chose to lift a story directly from current events – as Fontana does in 'Colors' –  the writers were just experienced enough to make it evergreen,

So while today's viewers will sadly have far too many contemporary stories to compare the plot in 'Colors'  - with Treyvon Martin and George Zimmerman being just the most obvious example  - the plot of this episode is in fact lifted from a murder that took place in October of 1992, though the details are just as sad as before. Sixteen year old Japanese exchange student Yoshihiro Hattori was on his way to a Halloween party in Louisiana but went to the wrong house and was shot and killed by a homeowner. The shooting inflamed international tensions. Japan denounced the United States as 'a society so frightened of its own shadow and so well-armed that such a tragedy could happen so easily'. And tragically that is just as accurate in 2025, if not more so, then it was in 1992.

Homicide was never the kind of series to flinch from the institutional racism that is all-too-ingrained in our society (though at the time cast members such as Yaphet Kotto and Andre Braugher would complain the series didn't go there often enough). It has done so multiple times over the years and will go at even more harshly in the years to come. But 'Colors' is one of the show's finest hours because it actually looks at it beyond the scope of murders in Baltimore and holds a mirror up to society – and in doing so shows one of the most quietly terrifying scenes in its entire run. It scared the hell out of me when I saw it for the first time, and now I see it as a foreshadowing of the world I live in today.

Pembleton goes out on a call, critically can't find his partner, and takes Bolander with him. Stan is in a philosophical mood, talking about how there is no reality and that maybe what you and I see is green is different from what might really be green. Frank is dismissive of this because he doesn't know yet how much Stan's musings are on point – and he's going to be dealing with far bigger concerns. They've been called with the dealing of the shooting of Hikmet Gersel, a Turkish exchange student attending the local high school. He's wearing strange makeup because he was attending a 'Kiss Party'. (One of the few moments of lightness comes when Stan has to be told who Kiss in and Frank mimes Gene Simmons' famous tongue wag.) They went to the wrong address and Gersel was shot by the homeowner, Jim Bayliss. Frank immediately pulls Stan aside: he knows this is Tim's cousin.

We've seen variations of this story before on countless other cop dramas and will see them again countless times and the difference is on any other show everyone in the unit would be bending over backwards to make sure the cousin of a detective would get preferential treatment. This is Homicide. And the fact that Frank is Tim Bayliss' partner under normal circumstances changes nothing in Frank's eyes. When Tim shows up at the scene, barging through barrier and bowling over Bolander, Frank immediately gets in the way and tells him to get out.

Kyle Secor gives arguably his most stunning performance to date on the show because it's a complete change of pace for what we're used to from him. To this point Bayliss has been one of the few characters who seems to have a pure moral compass, who genuinely wants to see justice done. We've seen him do some questionable things before on this show, but he's always felt more remorse even in his personal life. Not here. Tim knows everything he's doing goes against the book and he makes it very clear he doesn't care. And for the first time we get a sense of 'the darker, uglier side of Tim Bayliss', particularly when Frank begins to argue – with increasing justification – that this is not a case of self-defense but a racially motivated crime. When Giardello tries to be generous Bayliss starts using the kind of subtle racist tones we've only associated with cops like Roger Gaffney about the way he and Frank talk about being brothers. Giardello lets it pass and gives a certain latitude he wouldn't give any other detective but it's clear Bayliss is pushing him too far.

We want to believe Jim (the always brilliant David Morse) because Fontana initially portrays him as an empathetic and sympathetic character. That never entirely goes away during the episode but the more we learn about both him and the shooting it becomes clear there's something ugly beneath the surface.

We actually see more about the crime than is usually the case on Homicide as Pembleton and Bolander take three different interviews: Jim's, Shannon, his wife and Schultz Hikmet's classmate. Each time the story flashback in a faded out color tone much like the old-school Homicide but each perception is tinted with a different color. Jim's is red, Shannon's is blue, Schultz's is green. The influence is pure Rashomon, a style that is common to both film and television and would be used frequently in the 1990s. In this version, as with the film, we don't get a clear perception as to what actually happened. In this case, it's less significant because we know the end result: the critical factor is to why. And all of them are different enough to suggest that Jim's story of self-defense is not true and that Jim may very well have killed Hikmet Gersel because he was Turkish.

There are many implications in the final interview with Jim. Jim has a history of brawling and drinking. His younger brother Kurt was killed in Kuwait. Earlier he was arrested for aggravated assault (something he lied to Frank about initially) when he chose to assault a Persian. He claims that he bought the gun because of a series of burglaries in the neighborhood but how many burglars ring the doorbell, which all three versions of the story agree on? And as Frank points out Jim is an attorney and he had many options, so why was his first choice to go for his gun?

What's ironic is, by the standards we've come to know Frank Pembleton by, both of his questionings of Jim Bayliss are relatively mild. In the first he speaks calmly and in the second he's still a lot more civil then he will be to other criminals in the box both then and now. Tellingly Bolander is present for every single interrogation that Frank participates in and while he is gentler than Frank in some cases and knows that Tim is watching them all through the glass (after the first interview with Jim he looks at the mirror, knowing Tim's present) he never tries to put his finger on the scale at any point. He clearly knows what the implications will be but he knows enough to know that the stories don't add up. We don't see him with Frank either when he tells Gee he wants to bring Jim in for another set of questions or the decision to put the case before a grand jury but he never says that it's wrong.

And he knows all too well what the consequences will be. In one of the most memorable scenes in the entire series as Frank tries to lead the interview of his cousin towards more hostile territory, Tim starts to hammer on the glass. Frank waves him off but he keeps doing it until finally the glass shatters. Frank walks to the broken window and looks at his partner over the one remaining shard. "Cool it," Tim says. Presumably the questioning ends then.

This episode is driven by two related issues: the safety of one's home in an urban environment and race. What's fascinating is that in the case of the former Frank is clearly more in agreement with Jim then he wants to admit at work. In a wonderful scene after the whole horrible violent night – and by this point it's clear that his partnership with Tim may be over for good – he stumbles getting into bed and wakes up Mary. As always Frank is open with his wife as he is with no one else and he shares his concerns about the world he lives in. He asks her tenderly what she would do if someone broke in and when he gently suggests they should get another gun Mary says very firmly she's uncomfortable just with his service weapon in the house. Frank confesses his concerns about his wife's safety and Mary tells him that anything can happen in the city, that's the prize we pay. The episode ends with a wonderful moment where Mary instigates sex with her husband (Frank: "Sweetie, I'm tired.) Some of the final scenes of the episode parallel Jim and Shannon Bayliss at home with Frank and Mary as a couple, making it clear they are two sides of the same coin.

The other issue is race. For most of the episode the viewer really doesn't want to believe the worst of Jim. Then after Tim takes his cousin and Shannon to their house, Jim looks at the blood of the man he shot and picks up a hose. Just before he turns it on he says so casually: "Who'd have thought their guts'd be the same color as ours?" Tim very carefully looks at his cousin as if he can't believe he heard it. And we can't unhear it.

The grand jury sequence is memorable because we can tell, with cynical eyes, that Danvers is in his own way trying to tank the case. He doesn't say so directly but you can tell in his instructions and the way he directs the questioning that he's trying to guide the jury to the right verdict in a way we haven't seen before. Jim addresses the grand jury, which most defendants don't do, and delivers a compassionate plea in which he expresses remorse but is sure he did the right thing. You can view this as someone convinced of the righteousness of his actions – or remember he's an attorney and he is very comfortable with how to persuade a jury.

In either case when it's over comes that frightening scene. After Danvers reads that the grand jury has decided not to indict and all charges are dropped, the entire courtroom bursts into applause and all but gives Jim Bayliss a standing ovation. The lone exception is Frank Pembleton. It's worth noting Frank's testimony is clearly weighted to give Jim the benefit of the doubt but when it's over he doesn't hide his feelings.

When Tim tries to tell him that his cousin isn't a racist Frank says that he doesn't think it was intentional and utters a monologue that could so easily stand for so much of America today in many ways:

Jim is worse than a Klansman because at least in their white sheets they're recognizable. But your cousin's brand of bigotry is far more frightening because, like still waters, it runs deep. He doesn't even see it himself.

Then he asks Tim about what he saw in the courtroom.

Those law-abiding people applauded the death of a child. Now if you don't think that crime was racially motivated, ask yourself this…if that child was white, if he'd been American, you think that jury would have applauded?

And of course the sad part is that's a rhetorical question. Anyone who's lived through this century knows the answer to that question. We know how the system works. We know how it's weighted. I don't know how many grand juries like this I've lived through in the last ten years alone. It's practically a talking point on cable news, divided on partisan lines.

Fontana lets Jim Bayliss have the final word. He wonders whether he did what he did because he was the man of the house or perhaps because he was raised in a house where racist attitudes were second nature. He knows at some level, at least, it was passed down to him and as he holds his infant son, he wonders will he grow up and someday shoot another person's baby? Will the cycle keep repeating? Fontana doesn't give any answers but the last words of the episode – where Jim says he doesn't see the colors on the TV don't look right to them –  call back to the opening. Can any of us see the world the same way?

The biggest question is one asked by Bolander halfway through the episode. He comments on just how horrible a year the squad is having and makes it clear that he doesn't know if Bayliss and Pembleton can come back from something like this. The question is answered a little simply by the end of the episode but that's due to other circumstances. Other things will divide them but not this.

NOTES FROM THE BOARD

Detective Munch: Most of Munch's story in this episode is devoted to the problems with the restaurant in the Waterfront. Lewis is angry about the French chef they hired and convinced Munch to fire him. They end up hiring Meldrick's grandmother (who we never see) who is a premier hash slinger. The humor comes at the end of the episode when Lewis and Munch try to persuade their colleagues to dine at the Waterfront and have no takers. They try to talk up Gee and Munch says: "They have a smother pork chop you will die for." Gee says: "Or die from. I've had ptomaine poisoning once this year."

Neither Daniel Baldwin nor Isabella Hoffman appear in this episode.

The chef for the Waterfront is Henri De Segonzac. Jean De Segonzac was Homicide's director of photography. Note how Lewis derides Henri with an anti-foreigner tirade. Funny at first, in the context of the episode much less so.

Hey, Isn't That… David Morse's breakthrough came when he played Dr. Jack Morrison, the most neophyte doctor on St. Elsewhere. He has since been one of the great character actors in film and television over the next thirty years, known for work in such incredible films as The Crossing Guard, The Green Mile, Twelve Monkeys and Concussion. I will focus on his work in television for this article.

In 2002 he played ex-detective Mike Olshansky who becomes a cab driver in the CBS series Hack with such acting veterans as George Dzundza and Andre Braugher. He was nominated for an Emmy in 2007 for his role as Michael Tritter, a detective who becomes an adversary of House in the title series. He would receive another Emmy nomination for John Adams in which he played George Washington. In 2010 he reunited with David Simon to play Lt. Terry Colson, an honest cop in corrupt New Orleans in Treme, a series he stayed in until the final season. He had a role in the second season of True Detective and then was cast as Big Foster Farrell in the WGN series Outsiders which lasted two seasons until, like most original programming on that network, it was cancelled in 2017. He had a recurring role as Hank Crawford on Blindspot, played Dean Larson on the Netflix comedy The Chair and played Nicholas Bell in the Apple TV series The Last Thing he Told Me. He can currently be seen as Harris Sinclair on the Amazon series We Were Liars.