Wet Work

When pondering the heights of creative expression, the Jersey Shore doesn’t make many lists. There are a lot of lists on which it does merit an entry, but they’re usually the kind that are maintained by the public health department. After the depths have been plumbed by Snooki levels of self-tanner and hair gel, it would take a miracle to recover. Or, as is the case with HBO’s Atlantic City drama Boardwalk Empire, it takes Martin Scorsese.

Wow. It’s honestly difficult to articulate criticisms for this new series because the pilot was such a visual stunner, showcasing the roaring, rumrunning, gunslinging 20s into vibrant, visceral, technicolor modernity. I found I was instantly enveloped by the lush historical construct and richness of the production and happily lost myself amid the trappings of Prohibition even though this isn’t generally my kind of story. I’ve never been a fan of gangster dramas and the mob generally bores me to tears, but this show thankfully has a lot more going for it than that.

Terence Winter’s Boardwalk Empire is a period piece, in the strictest of senses, but as with any great period piece, it easily transcends the confines of a certain era. On the contrary, the era makes for a tantalizing backdrop to universal, timeless themes. Set in 1920, right at the time the passage of the 18th amendment legislated that the country had to dry out, Boardwalk Empire almost comes across as an alternate reality where liquor is outlawed and the men who rise to power and wealth are those who can keep the country wet. It was incredibly interesting to see Prohibition take effect in terms of how actual people reacted, not how a history book paints it. To see a room full of party-goers mourn the ban on liquor at midnight, only to pop the champagne and celebrate moments later really put things in perspective. This was a ban that didn't actually dry out the country at all, it simply made the smugglers live like sultans. In a televisionscape that’s brimming with scads of your standard cop shows, legal shows, and medical dramas, it’s not easy to create something new and fresh. Apparently, the way to create something new is to resurrect something old. It feels like the kind of alternate universe that science fiction often employs and can be appreciated on a similar level. I was constantly fascinated by the little things of this world that are simultaneously so like and so unlike my own. The fact that the clothes, cars, buildings, social strata, and political climate of Boardwalk Empire actually happened makes it all the more engrossing.

This production is slick and accurate down the button and hubcap. Granted I’m no expert on the era, so there may have been historical inaccuracies that I couldn’t perceive, but from where I was sitting, it was absolutely stunning. It was fascinating in the same way that museums and documentaries are, only with a gripping narrative to go with it. It felt like walking through one of those historical homes that’s been preserved for tourist groups, only without the velvet ropes. People weren’t gingerly handling antiques and historical artifacts here. They were actively engaging with this amazing backdrop, which is always exciting to see. The more accurately done, the more effective it is. Indeed, the best part of Titanic was the set design as far as I'm concerned. What’s this? You mean it wasn’t the touching love story that spans the ages or the Celine Dion ballad? Yeah, no. I’m the kind of person who’ll spend an entire book tweaking character design in my head, so to see it onscreen in lush perfection is extremely satisfying. Little things kept catching my eye that would remind me of how far removed I am from this time period. At one point, a couple of men are wearing pieces of fabric over their faces, with holes cut for eyes. Before my itty bitty brain had actually processed things, I thought it was weird that I could see their hair… because I’m used to ski masks. Which didn’t exist in 1920. I love that kind of thing. I think my only quibble would be that everything seemed a bit too clean, but they generally got splattered with blood soon after, so, you know, problem solved!

The setting is spectacular and pretty much so is everything else. The cast is stellar. Anchored by Steve Buscemi as morally ambiguous Atlantic City kingpin Enoch “Nucky” Thompson, this show has a lot going for it. It’s a hell of a concept to rest largely on one man’s shoulders, but Buscemi luxuriates in the role and seems to relish every moment. I imagine working on this kind of show, in this setting, and with this kind of creative team is every actor’s dream and Buscemi’s not the only one who knows it. The entire cast brings their A-games and embraces their roles body and soul. Michael Pitt does a particularly nice job as Jimmy Darmody, a conflicted 22-year-old war vet who isn’t sure what to make of the world he’s just come home to, ultimately finding himself playing both sides. His experiences in the war have made him an efficient murderer and he's not sure where to go from there. Pitt plays the ambiguity with surprising aplomb. Most of the cast were relative unknowns so I didn’t have to combat preconceived notions, but even if I had, these actors all settled into their roles as they would a feature film and really brought this story of corruption, power, violence, and decadence to life. With a television series, there’s the luxury of settling into a role over the course of a season, but with a film, viewers have to buy these characters almost instantly. With Martin Scorsese at the helm, I’m not surprised that this was the end result. This series has an eminently cinematic feel and visual aesthetic that’s inescapable. It really felt like I had just watched a high-budget, Oscar-contender rather than a television pilot.

To that end, however, there are certain pitfalls associated with movie-making that didn’t quite translate to the small screen as well as I would have liked. Perhaps there simply wasn’t enough time allotted by this format, but certain cinematic tropes just didn’t quite have the intended impact. Chief among them was starting the pilot in medias res and then backtracking to “three days earlier." This is a convention that just about every television show employs at some point and seeing those words flash on the screen led to some misgivings that were mildly irksome in their familiarity. It’s the kind of device that when it works, it works incredibly well, but when it doesn’t, it just seems like a gimmick. Boardwalk Empire’s foray into this trope was more toward the gimmick end of the spectrum. It’s a device that isn’t usually employed until well into the run of a television series. At its best, the audience is met with characters they feel they know and understand in a situation that is wholly unfathomable or acting in a way that’s completely out of character. When I find myself wondering how on earth these people were brought to this state of affairs and why Random Character would be doing that, I’m thrilled at the prospect shifting to “three days earlier." With Boardwalk Empire, I don’t know any of these characters, so their actions don’t seem counterintuitive, and the things they’re doing seem like par for the course based on what information I have thus far. Maybe I just know too much about the concept of the show or maybe the History Channel gave me a little too much inside knowledge of Prohibition (the documentary Rumrunners, Moonshiners And Bootleggers is excellent), but I was only moderately intrigued by what was happening. In fact, when shows employ this device, the audience is usually abundantly aware that they’re missing information and that a time warp will probably be forthcoming. Here, I was actually a little surprised to see it. It just didn’t seem necessary. At that point, you have to wonder if the creative powers that be simply wanted to draw in viewers by starting off with something flashy and exciting and that it had no real narrative purpose. That’s when I take issue with this conceit. I wouldn’t say Boardwalk Empire falls into that trap entirely, but its use seemed more self-indulgent than effective. Indeed, by the time the story caught up with where the pilot started, there wasn’t much in the way of a startling revelation or a new, profound understanding of the world, it was just nice to get back to where we were. Sure I know who these people are now, but it doesn’t make the scene any more or less sensational than it was the first time around.

Another element that seems to work better in a feature film than on a television show (at least in my experience) is deceptive editing. With a film, you only have one chance to interact with the story and characters, so it’s harder to predict where things are headed. With most television shows, audiences at least have a working knowledge of the regular cast, so it makes things slightly more predictable in terms of consequences. In Boardwalk Empire, there’s a scene where the audience is led to believe that the feds are approaching some of the principal cast, cutting back and forth between shots. I don’t know if it’s just me, but I only fell for it for about half a second. Unlike the crazy suspenseful edits in The Silence of the Lambs when those feds are approaching the presumed suspect, here, I was fully expecting the feds to be approaching a different target entirely. Again, when this is done right, it is extremely effective. When it doesn’t quite work, it just seems gimmicky. Again, I think if this were a feature film, it would have worked better. I don’t know what kind of a role Scorsese will have in the ongoing series, but I think the differences between what works well in film and what works in TV are the things he’s going to have to watch out for.

When looking at the pilot as a whole, however, these are but minor quibbles. The things that don’t work in a show are a lot more noticeable than the things that do, so the fact that I have so few complaints speaks volumes about the quality of the show. By and large, the story and direction are beyond reproach. While certain cinematic touches didn’t quite come off as well as intended, for the most part, Scorsese’s expertise behind the camera added a striking grandeur and effortlessness to the show. I think it was the little things that married the story and direction that were the most satisfying. For instance, when early on in the pilot we see fishermen doling out the catch of day, right from the net, it is seen as simply adding to the 1920s milieu, but in actuality, it will factor into the plot in a surprising way. Also, little indicators of personality traits and character priorities were appreciated. Although at times slightly heavy-handed, for the most part the pilot didn’t spoon-feed information to viewers. I always respect a pilot that is willing to trust its viewers. Boardwalk Empire didn’t spend the entire pilot explaining each and every detail to me. It simply created a universe and characters and let me soak in the salient points and details as they rolled out. I don’t need to understand everything all at once and appreciated the opportunity to make inferences based on what was available.

As mentioned, I think my only disconnect with the show is its basis in gangsters and the mob. For whatever reason, that’s a subject that has never really captivated me. The same goes for narcotics and drug trafficking. By and large, I simply couldn’t care less. But, in the same way that The Wire managed to interest me in the war on drugs, I’m hopeful that Boardwalk Empire can suck me into the world of organized crime. The show has a lot more going on than just power plays and gangsters, so I have high hopes. Based on the pilot alone, I’m already a lot more interested than I thought I’d be, even if I’m not perched on the edge of my seat, giddy for the next episode. This is a show that will take some effort and won’t likely be enjoyed by the casual, occasional viewer. So far, it’s a commitment I’m willing to make. Prohibition politics puts a new bent on the old routine, and I’m happy to give it some time to really make me invest.

In short, Boardwalk Empire is a sophisticated, high-budget production that’s a visual delight. Although certain story elements didn’t strike a chord with me, the cast, creative team, and concept are solid. They’ve created a world where morality isn’t black and white, character motivations are ever-changing, and loyalties can never be assured. It’s a set-up that allows for a lot of different kinds of narrative, so the long-term potential is compelling. At the very least, it lets me show my History Channel might. The pilot made several mentions to importing Canadian liquor. Canada actually went dry at about the same time as the US, but they kept it legal to export liquor instead. So, not only did the country at least pretend to dry out, but they made millions of dollars exporting liquor to the States. Brilliant. Anyway, this is going to be a difficult (and incredibly expensive) show to pull off week-to-week, so the creative team certainly has its work cut out for it. If they can make this work, however, I could see this turning into a long-term classic.

Pilot Grade: A-