I want to like this show. It has a great cast. It has tons of interesting characters just waiting be fleshed out. And yet, I’m not being pulled in. Is Sam’s penchant for crying at the drop of a hat (or, in the case of this episode, a video clip of President Obama’s inauguration) supposed to make him the sensitive modern man? Because to me, he comes off more as a wuss. (And I’m a pretty sappy person.)
Or maybe I’m just not getting the subtle (and not so subtle) context. I liked last week’s show because it gave us a bit more depth to Chris Skelton. But it was light on the Sam-angst, and that’s what this show’s supposed to be about.
In “Home Is Where You Hang Your Holster,” the precinct is locked down after a councilman (they still called them that in 1973), brought in when caught with a prostitue, is shot while in custody. To make matters worse, the 1-2-5 is crowded with overflow from the 1-3-8, and the whole scene reminds me of Law & Order’s classic episode “Mayhem.” There’s a bride who shot her groom, a business man who took a baseball bat to bunch of thugs, a man who reported a mugging and worries about missing his plane back to Wisconsin, Gene Hunt’s daughter Maria (who had hi-jinks with Sam in the file room two weeks ago), and a Chinese take-out delivery guy.
The twist is the councilman tells Sam he’s from 2009. He passes Sam’s tests of the status of the Berlin Wall and the Red Sox’s World Series chances. Even more intriguing, the councilman tells Sam he’s found the way home. Of course he dies before he can tell Sam what that way is.
Since Ray and Annie are still on the scene of the crime when the lock-down goes into effect, it’s left to them to investigate the councilman’s death. The good news is Ray’s character is finally fleshed out a bit. The bad news is he’s even more of an ass than we previously thought. They talk with the councilman’s sobbing secretary (Laura Esterman, who’s made a living playing sobbing mothers of dead daughters on several Law & Order episodes). The councilman was quite the reformer, working for minimum wage, rezoning, and an end to police corruption. Annie goes undercover as the secretary to pick up a mysterious package for the councilman from an even more mysterious Robert Prosky look-alike in a long dark coat, fedora and rabbit-handled cane. Turns out the package contains a postcard (this is important later on—just go with it) and a file on a corrupt cop who is… tada, the mugging victim complaining about having missed his flight back to Wisconsin.
When Gene hears the shooter is a policeman, he goes all melancholy with talk about “family.” Of course, he’s also speaking of his relationship with his daughter. Guilt-ridden Sam tells Gene he “didn’t know,” and Gene believes him. Once Gene regains his composure, he’s able to flush out the corrupt cop, even without the aid of cell phone or fax machines.
But the corrupt cop takes Maria hostage and heads out to the street. Ray and Annie come up from behind. Ray tries to take the guy out, fails, and is about to be stabbed when Annie beans the guy with her “billy club” (or whatever the heck those thing are called). And Ray still treats her like a piece of shit.
In the aftermath, Maria breaks things off with Sam, saying that his heart’s desire lies no further than his own back door. (Reference #26 in this episode to The Wizard of Oz.) No, no, Sam protests, he and Annie are just friends. Gene and Maria have a heart-to-heart talk about saying “I love you” and Maria calling Gene “Gene” instead of “Dad.” They end on peaceful but still unresolved terms.
Gene seems to be haunted by his failure as a father. He’s in his office, hair disheveled and drinking. (And please, dear Lord, let’s never be subjected to Harvey Keitel in a wifebeater again.) Sam wants to be transferred back to Hyde (thinking that’s the way to get back to 2009), but Gene, after having called the Wizard of Oz (reference #27), says Sam asked for the transfer, so booger off.
Ah, could this be an anvil? I don’t know, because as Sam walks out, the camera pans in on the postcard from the councilman’s mysterious package. (See, I told you it was important.) The card says “Safe travels. See you soon.” I expect the postmark to say 2009, but it doesn’t. It’s 1973, complete with a $.06 stamp.
So I still don’t get it. Except to say I will be sorely disappointed if this turns out to be nothing more than an elaborate coma.
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Life on Mars: Home Is Where You Hang Your Holster
I want to like this show. It has a great cast. It has tons of interesting characters just waiting be fleshed out. And yet, I’m not being pulled in. Is Sam’s penchant for crying at the drop of a hat (or, in the case of this episode, a video clip of President Obama’s inauguration) supposed to make him the sensitive modern man? Because to me, he comes off more as a wuss. (And I’m a pretty sappy person.)
Or maybe I’m just not getting the subtle (and not so subtle) context. I liked last week’s show because it gave us a bit more depth to Chris Skelton. But it was light on the Sam-angst, and that’s what this show’s supposed to be about.
In “Home Is Where You Hang Your Holster,” the precinct is locked down after a councilman (they still called them that in 1973), brought in when caught with a prostitue, is shot while in custody. To make matters worse, the 1-2-5 is crowded with overflow from the 1-3-8, and the whole scene reminds me of Law & Order’s classic episode “Mayhem.” There’s a bride who shot her groom, a business man who took a baseball bat to bunch of thugs, a man who reported a mugging and worries about missing his plane back to Wisconsin, Gene Hunt’s daughter Maria (who had hi-jinks with Sam in the file room two weeks ago), and a Chinese take-out delivery guy.
The twist is the councilman tells Sam he’s from 2009. He passes Sam’s tests of the status of the Berlin Wall and the Red Sox’s World Series chances. Even more intriguing, the councilman tells Sam he’s found the way home. Of course he dies before he can tell Sam what that way is.
Since Ray and Annie are still on the scene of the crime when the lock-down goes into effect, it’s left to them to investigate the councilman’s death. The good news is Ray’s character is finally fleshed out a bit. The bad news is he’s even more of an ass than we previously thought. They talk with the councilman’s sobbing secretary (Laura Esterman, who’s made a living playing sobbing mothers of dead daughters on several Law & Order episodes). The councilman was quite the reformer, working for minimum wage, rezoning, and an end to police corruption. Annie goes undercover as the secretary to pick up a mysterious package for the councilman from an even more mysterious Robert Prosky look-alike in a long dark coat, fedora and rabbit-handled cane. Turns out the package contains a postcard (this is important later on—just go with it) and a file on a corrupt cop who is… tada, the mugging victim complaining about having missed his flight back to Wisconsin.
When Gene hears the shooter is a policeman, he goes all melancholy with talk about “family.” Of course, he’s also speaking of his relationship with his daughter. Guilt-ridden Sam tells Gene he “didn’t know,” and Gene believes him. Once Gene regains his composure, he’s able to flush out the corrupt cop, even without the aid of cell phone or fax machines.
But the corrupt cop takes Maria hostage and heads out to the street. Ray and Annie come up from behind. Ray tries to take the guy out, fails, and is about to be stabbed when Annie beans the guy with her “billy club” (or whatever the heck those thing are called). And Ray still treats her like a piece of shit.
In the aftermath, Maria breaks things off with Sam, saying that his heart’s desire lies no further than his own back door. (Reference #26 in this episode to The Wizard of Oz.) No, no, Sam protests, he and Annie are just friends. Gene and Maria have a heart-to-heart talk about saying “I love you” and Maria calling Gene “Gene” instead of “Dad.” They end on peaceful but still unresolved terms.
Gene seems to be haunted by his failure as a father. He’s in his office, hair disheveled and drinking. (And please, dear Lord, let’s never be subjected to Harvey Keitel in a wifebeater again.) Sam wants to be transferred back to Hyde (thinking that’s the way to get back to 2009), but Gene, after having called the Wizard of Oz (reference #27), says Sam asked for the transfer, so booger off.
Ah, could this be an anvil? I don’t know, because as Sam walks out, the camera pans in on the postcard from the councilman’s mysterious package. (See, I told you it was important.) The card says “Safe travels. See you soon.” I expect the postmark to say 2009, but it doesn’t. It’s 1973, complete with a $.06 stamp.
So I still don’t get it. Except to say I will be sorely disappointed if this turns out to be nothing more than an elaborate coma.
Tags: sci fi, television, tv