nly the first few moments of the show that I was in for something a little different, and to great extent, a little better than your standard fare.The show had me rooting for it almost instantly. The show opened in such a way that it was unmistakably Memphis (even though I hear it's filmed in New Orleans, the essence of the appeal is that it's the South), but for me, and much more importantly, it made it refreshingly clear that this was not New York or Los Angeles. Saints. Be. Praised. In much the same way that Justified piqued my curiosity right off the bat, a simple change of scenery (and by extension, soundtrack) can imbue a show with an entirely different tone and feel (and sticky humidity). The writers made a point of making Memphis itself a character on the show (even to the point of it being heavy-handed). This may be your typical detective drama in many ways, but just the fact that we weren't in your typical locale made it all seem a little fresher, a little newer, and a little more original than its genre compatriots. To boot, the show didn't open on a grisly murder scene or some
blustering bad guy interrogating a bad guy. It opened on an entertainer preparing for a show. A scene which would unexpectedly bookend the pilot.Along with Memphis as a very welcomed change of backdrop, the characters and the writing have quite a bit going for them. The locale had already put the show in my good graces, but it was the simplest, most unassuming of lines from one of the supporting characters that initially won me over. As Detective Dwight Hendricks (Jason Lee) arrives at a grocery store shooting, he asks a beat cop (who had been getting something to eat across the street) how long it took him to get to the grocery store after hearing shots fired. The beat cop responds, with all attendant urgency and seriousness, "It didn't take me more than 29... 30 seconds, tops!" Heh. So simple, and yet it totally elicited a smile. Because, you know, leave it to some young rookie cop to think that the difference between 29 and 30 seconds would actually matter. I think what really made that work for me was that the show wasn't asking for the laugh and the line simply floated by. If you weren't paying attention, you could very easily have missed it. It was in that moment that the tone for the show was set for me. Very serious situations peppered with a sort of quiet humor that isn't trying too hard, but that totally works. Just the kind I like. From that point on, I wanted to like this show (you know, instead of wanting to dismember it, as per my usual), and I
think that's why I was willing to let a lot of things that should have annoyed me off the hook.In spite of wanting to like the pilot, I have learned to be cautious. For you see, the first 10 minutes of The Good Guys also had me smiling and wanting to like it. I did not. At all. So, when Alfre Woodard, the new police chief and resident hardass, showed up at the precinct to ostensibly enforce rules and just generally be a bitch, I was afraid this show was headed in an equally disappointing direction (and to certain extent, it very well did). Alfre Woodard is a power-player to the nth degree. I adore her. So you can imagine how irksome I found it when she initially seemed to be your standard cliche of the woman in power (read: mega-bitch). For the better part of the pilot, in fact, I was frustrated and annoyed with the angle the writers chose for her character. The new chief, a woman, saunters into this
man's world and expects them submit daily reports, file necessary paperwork on time, do exactly as she says (regardless of what actually works), and even banishes the guys' favorite lamp (a naked woman's torso that lights up in the bust area). Don't get me wrong, I agreed with her that "Many of the female officers don't appreciate their desks being illuminated by nipples," but other than that, Woodard was presented as your typical, controlling, unreasonable overlord. To see such a great actress seemingly reduced to such a lazy, insulting cliche was starting to break my heart, but then the show put some factors into motion that helped change my perception of Woodard's character and her dynamic with Detective Hendricks.In Woodard's initial scene with Hendricks, she explains how she's a mother, and that although her children didn't always want to do as they were told, they did it, and ultimately accepted that she was right. I short-sightedly assumed that this was a writer tapping into the genre's more regrettable views of women and a lazy way of creating conflict with the whose maverick protagonist. To a certain extent, that's absolutely the case, but in the grander scheme, the writers' clearly put a lot more thought into this than I initially expected (not that that made it any less annoying while it was happening, tough). The real heart of the matter isn't fully elucidated till the end, but the seeds of their dynamic are sown throughout the pilot.
The A-plot involves the case of a Memphis radio legend (a tiny little old woman) who is the victim of elder abuse. Through this storyline, it not only sews Memphis into the very fabric of the procedural (which was nice, and helped mask the New Orleansishness), but helps highlight the central theme of the pilot, and what I assume with be a central theme of the series:
mothers and sons. Hendricks, whose relationship with his own mother is incredibly strong (and of which he is extremely protective), is thrown off the case at one point by seeming mega-bitch Woodard. He solves the case anyway, of course, and is then at the mercy of his new police chief who spends the better part of the pilot trying to keep him under her thumb. After seeing his dedication to his work, to the victim, and the fact that he managed to do right by everyone without her supervision, Woodard's character reevaluates her relationship with him, and more intrinsically, her relationship with her own children. It is revealed that for all her blustering about being a mother and raising kids right, her children hardly speak to her at all. Her efforts have driven them away. It was at this point that I gave the writers some credit. They didn't write a two-dimensional stock character of the "woman in power," but rather set up an unexpected dynamic that will affect the whole series. In essence, she is the mother of the precinct and Hendricks is her unruly son. A bit cheesy, and a bit heavy-handed, but it worked for me. Seeing how strained and distant her relationships with her own children are, she has to swallow her pride and acknowledge that her way of doing things doesn't work. I'm actually pretty intrigued by this pairing and I'm willing to give this show a few more episodes to really suck me in. This is a new interpersonal relationship for a show to explore, and for a crime procedural, it's a surprising, and welcomed move.It's a good thing the relationship between "mother" and "son" has me interested because so far, they're basically the only two characters on the show (besides "Memphis"). I assume there are other series regulars, but the pilot showcased Woodard and Lee exclusively. As engaging as that dynamic may be, it's certainly not enough to sustain an entire series. Perhaps if I were more of a fan of crime procedurals I wouldn't be as concerned, but this loyal TV viewer needs more on her plate. They both need
people to play off of and right now, the only possible candidates are Hendricks' mother and he his partner, neither of whom were given much of a role in the pilot. It'll be interesting to see where things go from here, but I have a sinking feeling things could stagnate. I'm just now sure how much exploring they can do with just Woodard's and Lee's characters alone, and the "cop show" genre needs quite a bit extra for me to really find it engaging. Although, to the show's credit, the A-plot murder was well-written and surprising. It had a lot of nice twists that I didn't see coming and did a really good job setting up characters that I cared about. I hope they continue to integrate the murder of the week into the overall themes of the show because that's when a procedural really works for me (a la Buffy and Veronica Mars). It's really the only way A-plots make much narrative sense to me.All in all, this is kind of a strange little nugget of a crime procedural. It had your standard detective show elements, but also had a healthy dollop of surprising elements and interesting character choices. That entertainer getting ready to perform in the opening shots of the pilot? Well, that would be Detective Hendricks, as is revealed in a very effective bookend to the show. I'm not so sure that was Jason Lee actually singing, but it made for a nice character quirk that I honestly didn't see coming.
Lee forms the obvious foundation for the show and I think his character has a lot of potential depth (although Lee doesn't seem entirely at home in the role quite yet). It really all depends on where the series goes from here, but so far, the pilot has me intrigued enough to keep going for a while. Unfortunately, for all the show's potential, at the end of the day it's a cop show, and I'm just not sure all the bells and whistles in the world will be able to win me over in the long run. The pilot was fairly solid, if not perfect, but I always find myself wishing these shows were serialized instead of self-contained. We'll see just what a balance this show strikes and whether or not the ratio of A-plot to everything else is enough to keep me interested.
Pilot Grade: C+
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