Within
minutes of the opening of Steven Bochco's controversial new "Brooklyn South",
viewers become eyewitnesses to a shoot-out so brutal the episode carries
a TV-MA rating -- the sternest possible warning.
A black
crack addict with a gun goes berserk on his way to the precinct house,
and before he's apprehended, cops and bystanders drop like bowling pins.
A detective,
lying wounded on the sidewalk, is shot a second time in the head. A piece
of his skull flies off.
The
shooter is later dragged into the police station, bleeding from chest wounds.
As he lies, handcuffed, on a blood-streaked back-room floor, the cops of
Brooklyn's 74th Precinct kick, punch, and insult him, and even berate the
medics trying to save the man's life.
"Die,"
one cop says to the shooter. He soon does, and another cop says, "Good."
The
scene -- especially controversial given Abner Louima's allegations of police
brutality at a real life Brooklyn precinct -- caps a sequence that's remarkably
shocking, even for a drama from Bochco, the man who has brought to television
a progressively innovative string of cop hits and flops, from "Hill Street
Blues" to "Cop Rock" and "NYPD Blue."
"I've
often said to Steven that one of the things he'll be arraigned for in whatever
afterlife awaits him is the phrase 'pushing the envelope,'" says David
Milch, the three-time Emmy winner who co-created and executive produces
"NYPD Blue" and shares executive producer duties with Bochco and William
M. Finkelstein on the new drama. "Each show has made possible the shows
which follow, because each show changes the conventions."
"Brooklyn
South" was shot long before the Louima incident, and Bochco said last month
that he would not change a thing about the new series because the circumstances
of the drama and the real-life incident are strikingly different.
"Brooklyn
South" takes the violence and grit a step beyond "NYPD Blue," and has the
kind of edge that "Blue" used to have.
Instead
of detectives trying to solve crimes, the series follows what Milch calls
"proactive" Brooklyn beat cops.
The
pilot fails to flesh out several members of the large ensemble cast --
including Officers Phil Roussakoff (Michael DeLuise, who played Andy Sipowicz
Jr. on "NYPD Blue") and Anne-Marie Kersey (Yancy Butler).
Far
more vivid are the likable Officer Jimmy Doyle (Dylan Walsh), Patrol Sgt.
Francis X. Donovan (Jon Tenney), tough-as-nails Sgt. Richard Santoro (Gary
Basaraba), and Internal Affairs Bureau Lt. Stan Jonas -- played by "Hill
Street" alumnus James B. Sikking.
"This
is going to be a contemporary police show based on the Police Department
today," says supervising producer Bill Clark, a 25-year veteran of the
New York Police Department, who spent 17 of those years in the homicide
division.
Milch
and Clark wrote the book "True Blue: The Real Stories Behind 'NYPD Blue'."
Every
four weeks, Milch says, Clark flies New York detectives and beat cops to
California to meet with the Bochco creative team, "just so we can talk
and I can stay fresh," Milch says.
One
of these conversations with a retired cop -- who recalled an incident that
took place in the late Seventies -- was so compelling that it led the producers
to change the way the show was supposed to open.
Milch
insists, however, that the opening -- and what has come to be known as
the "exploding head" shot -- were not concocted for the sake of controversy.
"That
shot, and that initial sequence of violence, had to do with our intention
of establishing an atmosphere," Milch says. "And I think it may be fair
to say that, if the show runs as long as we all hope it does, there may
not be that much violence again in a whole other season."
The
sequence, he says, is intended to not only make viewers understand, on
a visceral level, "one source of reality in a cop's life," but also to
"put on to its feet a theme that we're going to explore in all different
kinds of ways, which is the ambiguous emotional contract between the citizenry
and the cop."
That
contract, Milch says, involves cops understanding that people want protection,
but also to maintain the illusion that bad guys' rights aren't violated
in the process.
"People
don't really want that to happen with criminals, but we have to maintain
that illusion," Milch says.
"What
that sequence is intended to do is to bring the viewer first to that kind
of emotional complicity in the act of vigilantism ... and then to live
in the consequences and realization of what foul dust kind of floats in
vigilantism's wake."