Title: "Frank, do you absolve me?": The Roof Scene of "Homicide: The Movie"

Category: Essay

The author, a native of NYC, is both a card-carrying movie projectionist
(IATSE, Local 306), and an artist.  Started watching The Show during
Lifetime reruns, summer of 1997, mid-season 4.  Was immediately hooked,
and is still carrying the torch.

Homicide Season: N/A

Disclaimer: "Characters and script excerpts used from "Homicide: Life on the
Street" belong to Baltimore Pictures and NBC Productions and are used without
permission.  This story may be copied or placed in public domain so long as
the author's original name and story remain intact."

------

The "Roof Scene" is the dark emotional climax to "Homicide: The Movie."
It completes the arc of Tim Bayliss, who joined the homicide squad as an
idealistic rookie in the very first episode of "Homicide: Life on the Street."
Through the course of that series, Bayliss's history and psychology
were gradually revealed.  Unable to overcome his personal demons, in
the end he becomes what he'd spent his career fighting.  Here, on the
Stationhouse's roof, he confesses to his mentor and former partner,
Frank Pembleton, that this "murder police" has committed murder.
It's a painful, heartbreaking  scene: each man's trust and faith in the other
is broken.

It became clear, very early on, that Pembleton's overarching role in the
series would be to toughen up the rookie, give him the skills to control his
emotional response to the cases, and become a dispassionate homicide
detective.  Bayliss's role would be to humanize the more experienced
detective.  Through six seasons, in sickness and in health, they challenged
each other, wore down each other's rough edges, until they form a nearly
unbeatable team.

By the beginning of "Fallen Heroes," the sixth season finale, Pembleton can
off-handedly tell Bayliss, "I always said you were a great detective."  It's
a little bit of a joke, since Pembleton is nominally congratulating him on
having found a working pay phone in downtown Baltimore--but it's clear
he really means the compliment.  By the end of that double episode,
Bayliss has willingly sacrificed himself, put himself in front of a bullet, to
protect Pembleton.  As his grievously wounded partner lies unconscious in his
hospital bed, Frank quietly takes his hand.  It certainly seems as if  each
has accomplished his global series task.

But in this episode, Frank has also resigned from the police force.  And in
his absence, Bayliss spirals slowly, inexorably, downward.  Do we really need
to enumerate here the way stations on Bayliss's trip to hell?  (Besides, a
lot of the seventh season is too lame to want to review.  But, I digress.)
Suffice it to say, without his moral compass in the person of Frank
Pembleton, Bayliss caroms along, often from one humiliation to the next.
His most precipitous decline begins with his fatal shooting of an insane
homeless man, in "Zen and the Art of Murder."  It was a case of self-defense,
and painfully so; it may well be the squeaky-cleanest police-involved shooting in
history.  But that killing, however justified by nearly any standard, seems
to open the floodgates, as Bayliss explains in "Forgive Us Our Trespasses":

BAYLISS: You know, when I got shot, my whole perception of the universe
just completely changed.  But when I shot that, that homeless guy, that Larry
Moss?  Suddenly, I knew what it was like to take another person's life.
Suddenly, I was just like the person who killed Adena Watson.  See, Frank
said that I would never be a good homicide detective because I didn't have
the killer's instinct.  Frank was wrong.

Later, Bayliss quietly packs up his desk and disappears into the night.  The
episode, and the series, ends with the discovery of Luke Ryland's lifeless body.

The next thing we know, there's an attempt on Gee's life, and anyone who was
ever a member of Gee's squad is rushing back to Baltimore, to assist in
finding the shooter.  The phone call with the bad news finds Bayliss
fly-fishing.  His appearance has changed considerably from his previous,
rather air-brushed look: his hair and beard are shaggy and unkempt, his
face is care-worn.  When his cell phone rings, mid-stream, his snappish,
even frightened response, "What?!" makes it clear that all is not well with
the man.

Pembleton, by contrast, has moved on quite successfully after his resignation
from the force.  He gets the dire message in the middle of delivering a
lecture to his college students.

Watching Frankentim partner up again is sheer pleasure; neither man has
lost his instincts, and they quickly fall into a comfortable working rhythm.
And once again, they close the case.  However, it's been clear throughout
"The Movie" that Bayliss has something on his mind, something big, that he
wants to share with Pembleton, but the latter--as was typical throughout much
of  their partnership--has deflected Bayliss's attempts at getting too personal.
Finally, on the roof, Bayliss seizes his opportunity: "Time for one more
confession, Frank."

BAYLISS: I killed a man.
PEMBLETON: (laughs) I'm not in the mood, alright?
BAYLISS: Luke Ryland.
[B/W Flashback from "Forgive Us Our Trespasses"]
RYLAND: (on his way out of court, waving) Be seeing ya, detectives.
PEMBLETON: Who?
BAYLISS: I shot the bastard dead.
[B/W Flashback from "Zen & the Art of Murder," though it's supposed to
represent "FUOT": Bayliss shooting someone]
PEMBLETON: (still amused) Good, um...go to jail. Go directly to jail.
Do not pass go--
BAYLISS: Nah...I'm not kidding, Frank. I killed him.
[Same flashback from "Zen"]
PEMBLETON: (smiling) Come on, Tim. You couldn't kill anybody.
BAYLISS: Frank, he got off on a technicality.
[B/W Flashback from "FUOT"]
JUDGE: Defendant is set free (gavel pounding).
BAYLISS: The bastard had to die, before he went out and he murdered
another innocent woman.
[Screen flashes between Bayliss and Ryland, rapid-fire, about 10 times.
Ends on Pembleton's face.]
PEMBLETON: (Blinks, no longer amused) Don't screw with me.  You killed
this uh...whoever?
BAYLISS: Luke Ryland.
PEMBLETON: Internal cleared you?
BAYLISS: Frank, I'm saying that I hunted the bastard down, and when I
found him I blew his brains out. I executed him in cold blood.
PEMBLETON: And I'm saying, Internal rules this as a good shooting?
BAYLISS: No.  No, Internal doesn't know crap about me killing Ryland.
PEMBLETON: So you...you're standing here and you're telling me you
killed somebody?
BAYLISS: (whispers) Yes.

Tim continues to hammer away at Frank's disbelief, brushing aside every
excuse the other man offers.  There's a fleeting look of satisfaction on
Tim's face when Frank finally understands that Tim has committed murder--not
acted in self defense, nor had his gun go off accidentally, but killed a man
in cold blood.  And I find myself hating Tim for doing this to Frank.  What
makes the scene so very powerful is that it forces the viewer to feel several
contradictory emotions at once, and to feel the pain of both men as they
struggle with what each must see as a profound betrayal.

Pembleton recognizes the hostility of Tim's confession:

PEMBLETON: So you waited till I came back so you could um...unload this?
Unburden yourself?  What's supposed to happen now?
BAYLISS: You tell me.
PEMBLETON: (shakes his head) I'm not bringing you in.  (walks away)
BAYLISS: (walks alongside) No, huh?
PEMBLETON: I'm not a cop.  It's not official.
BAYLISS: (steps in front of him to stop him) Oh really, now what are you
gonna do, Frank?  Not say a word?  Are you gonna keep my little secret to yourself?
PEMBLETON: SON-OF-A-BITCH!  YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!  You murdered him.

There's never been a physical obstacle to Bayliss marching into the
Stationhouse, wrists extended, and saying to Lewis, "I'm your perp in
the Ryland case, slap on the cuffs."  Of course, it's ridiculous to suggest
that he might have done this.

PEMBLETON: Who's the primary?
BAYLISS: Lewis.
PEMBLETON: You talk to him?
BAYLISS: No. I came to you first.  Who else would I tell, Frank?
PEMBLETON: (slower) But did you talk to Lewis?
BAYLISS: About this case, no.
PEMBLETON: So nobody suspects that you're the shooter?
BAYLISS: (laughs) No, man.  They're gonna suspect me?  Good ol' Tim
Bayliss, huh, the Zen detective.
PEMBLETON: (considers a moment) Ah...
BAYLISS: So...you'll take me in?
PEMBLETON: I'm gonna take you in, are you wild?
BAYLISS: No.  You'll take me in, Frank.
PEMBLETON: No.

Alert the media: Frank Pembleton is about to let a man get away with murder!
Get away with murder!  With murder!  (Sorry, I couldn't resist that little
triple take.)  Tim, desperate to be punished, will use any tactic necessary
to force Frank to turn him in.

BAYLISS: (walks toward Pembleton, punctuating his words with a finger pointed
at him) Did I take a bullet for you?
PEMBLETON: No, no, cut it out--
BAYLISS: (gets in Pembleton's face) DID I TAKE A BULLET FOR YOU?
PEMBLETON: I'm not taking you in--
BAYLISS: DID I TAKE A BULLET FOR YOU? I take a bullet for you, and you
take a bullet for me, now that is square business, Frank.
PEMBLETON: This is not about taking a bullet for you. This is about you
wanting me to toss your ass in the jackpot. You're confessing to a murder,
Tim. Do you understand that?
BAYLISS: (point to the door) So you want someone else should take me in?
Someone...
PEMBLETON: No.
BAYLISS: ..else should bust me..
PEMBLETON: No, no.
BAYLISS: Is that what you want?
PEMBLETON: No, no.
BAYLISS: Then it has to be you.
PEMBLETON: No! No! (trails off as a whisper) No.
BAYLISS: (grabs Pembleton by his coat lapels) Frank, listen...
PEMBLETON: (whispers) No.

When even this attempt to guilt-trip Frank fails, Tim pulls out his trump card.

BAYLISS: Listen to me. I've thought about eating my gun, and I'm gonna EAT
THAT GUN RIGHT NOW if you don't do the right thing for me, Frank!  For right
here!  (again touches fingers to his head)  I have no other...no other option, Frank.
(whispers)  Please.
(Bayliss and Pembleton are holding each other by the arms and coat sleeves.)
PEMBLETON: (quietly) So you thought about putting a gun to yourself.
BAYLISS: (quietly) Yeah.  You'd be saving my life.  I don't know for how
long.  But for now, at least you would.
PEMBLETON: I believe that you did not mean to do this killin'.
BAYLISS: (pause) Yeah, you believe what you wanna believe.  That's okay.
PEMBLETON: So we're gonna turn around, right now, and we're gonna go
back inside.  Okay?
BAYLISS: (glances at the door and looks back at Frank, looking like he's
about to cry, both frightened and resigned to what the immediate future
holds.  Takes off his shield) I've put off the inevitable, Frank.  (traces
his fingers over the shield)  It's gotta be what it's gotta be.  (puts the
shield in Pembleton's hand and closes his hand over Pembleton's, the
other hand clasping his wrist)
PEMBLETON: (looking down, almost crying himself) Son-of-a-bitch.

(Yes, I know that interrupting the scene at this point is awful; think of it
as a homage to CourtTV's editing style.)  Bayliss has finally forced Frank to
agree to be his extremely unwilling agent of justice.  Having achieved his
stated goal, he asks for one more thing:

(Bayliss puts his hand on the back of Pembleton's neck and brings them
together so their foreheads are touching.  Both are looking down, eyes closed.)
BAYLISS: (whispers) Frank.  Do you absolve me?
PEMBLETON: (hoarsely) Absolve you?  (Bayliss nods, and the motion of
his head makes Pembleton's nod as well.  Pembleton laughs sadly.  His smile
fades slowly as they both look up.  He looks Tim directly in the eyes, but
despite the willed neutrality of his expression, you can feel his dismay.)  I can't.
BAYLISS: You can't?  (Pembleton shakes his head)  That's remarkable, I
mean...'cause I was certain that you could.

Pembleton has come in for a lot of grief from some fans over his failure to grant
Bayliss "absolution," as if it were a mean-spirited act of denial on his
part.  Let's examine this a little more carefully.  A quick online search
found the following definition:

"Absolution (Ab = from; solvere = to free) is the remission of sin, or of the
punishment due to sin, granted by the Church.  Absolution proper is that act
of the priest whereby, in the Sacrament of Penance, he frees man from sin.
It presupposes on the part of the penitent, contrition, confession, and
promise at least of satisfaction; on the part of the minister, valid
reception of the Order of Priesthood and jurisdiction, granted by competent
authority, over the person receiving the sacrament."  (Catholic Encyclopedia
http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/01061a.htm)

The roof scene has wonderful acting throughout, especially in this excerpt.
The gradual changes in expression on Frank's face as he turns Tim down--and
the possible meanings of those expressions--are so subtle they're hard to
describe.  The best I can do is to say that, when Frank laughs, sadly, at
Tim's request for absolution, it's not with amusement, rather, it seems to me
that he laughs at the absurdity of the question.  The "dismay" I read in
Frank's expression is due to the asking of the question, rather than any
distress Frank feels at being unable to give a positive response.

"How could he fail poor sensitive Timmy?" Well, I don't think Timmy is being
particularly sensitive to anyone or anything besides his own needs here;
revealing his secret to Frank under these circumstances is both a desperate
and a hostile act.

It's certainly true that Tim wants to be punished--but he also wants
forgiveness from the one man whose opinion he holds above all others.
Yet by couching his request for forgiveness in the language of the Latin
Church, he perversely guarantees that Frank cannot help him.  Despite Frank's
famously lapsed Catholicism and his fury at God ("As usual, God was in the next
county, making hurricanes and hunch-backed babies"), belief in the sacraments
must cut to the core of Frank's childhood faith and is not so easily
dismissed.  He may consider himself one-hundred-per-cent lapsed, but
that youthful faith will always frame the discussion.

Doctrinally, Frank can't offer "absolution" because he isn't a priest, he
isn't a minister, isn't an officially sanctioned agent of the Church.  (The
fact that he's played one several times on TV doesn't count!)

This isn't the first time the issue of absolution has come up on Homicide.
In the sixth-season episode "Mercy," Frank believes Dr. Roxanne Turner
[Alfre Woodard, reprising her role from "St. Elsewhere"] is purposefully
helping her terminally ill patients to die.  Now, I honestly think this episode is
a bit of a mess.  The following scene falls oddly flat, a disappointing waste
of two fine actors, but it's relevant to this discussion:

PEMBLETON: I think that you really believe what you do...is not murder.
TURNER: Nah, that ain't nearly good enough, and please do not patronize me.
PEMBLETON: Okay, fine, fine, forget about the word murder.  I no longer
suspect you of murder.  I absolve you of that.
TURNER: I don't need absolution!
FRANK: Oh, c'mon, Doc, we all need absolution.

The scene ends with Dr. Turner guessing at Frank's deeper motives for
pursuing her so relentlessly:

TURNER: THAT'S what this is about.  You had a stroke, and you're pissed.  You
resent your doctors, because you think they had the power of life and death
over you.  So you're gonna prove 'em wrong, even if it means killing
yourself.  You blame some arrogant neurosurgeon for ruining your friend's
life, because you feel guilty for abandoning her.  And I'm paying for all of
this?  Ha!  Don't absolve me, detective, absolve yourself!

How can Frank ever so casually offer her the gift of absolution, yet deny the
man who saved his life?  Especially when the man is so clearly at the end of
his emotional tether?  Ah, but here is where Frank reveals his truest feelings.
Dr. Turner is a near-total stranger, and a potential perp to boot;  we've seen
numerous times over the course of "Homicide" that Frank feels any  ruse is
justified when he "speaks for the dead."  It's clear from the context  that Frank
intends this offer of "absolution" as an insult: "You are utterly  meaningless to me,
so I extend this meaningless offer to you."  It's a  purposefully provocative statement,
which fails in this case to have the desired effect: to cloud Dr. Turner's judgement,
thereby opening the way to extracting a confession.

On the other hand, Tim is someone Frank cares for deeply--a friend to someone
"who doesn't have friends."  And Frank holds those he cares for to an exquisitely
high standard.  He trusts them to adhere to his own exacting moral code, and would
never insult the relationship by offering such a cheap shot.

Does Tim think that, by asking Frank to "absolve" him, he's merely asking for
a slightly fancier version of "forgiveness"?  Does he understand that he's
also asking for the removal of his sin?  It's easy to believe that Bayliss
wants the burden of his guilt, which is so clearly eating him alive, to be
removed.  He needs to hear that Frank--the rigorously demanding and
critical man, the man with exquisitely clear moral values, the man who, despite
his aloofness, was more positively present for Tim than the men in his own
family--forgives and (therefore) still loves him.  For Tim, Frank will always
be the good cop, the righteous cop, despite Frank's protests in "The Movie"
that "I'm not a cop anymore."  Tim's response, "No, no, no, you're always
gonna be a cop" echoes sentiments he's already expressed in "Kaddish,"
when he offers moral support to Frank during his unwilling separation from
his wife and infant daughter.  This sense of "homicide detective" being a
higher calling, one that in some sense chooses the person, and with which a
person identifies completely, runs very deep.

Contrition--"sincere penitence or remorse"--is another condition of  being
eligible for absolution.  Despite Bayliss's clear distress over what he did,
it's very interesting that only once does he actually verbalize any sort of
misgivings:

BAYLISS: (puts his hand over his heart) In here, I know that I did right.
(Pembleton looks away. Bayliss touches his temple)  But for here...

Emotionally, he knows he did the right thing, but intellectually, he remains
unconvinced--presumably, his misgivings have increased over time.  For
most of the roof scene, when Bayliss repeatedly confesses what he's done, he
sounds defiant: his killing of Ryland undoubtedly saved the lives of innocent
women, therefore it was a justifiable and expedient action to take.  He
exhibits a bit of perverse pride that he knew how to "execute an execution,"
to use Meldrick Lewis's colorful phrase: absent his confession, he will get
away with it.

But putting aside the more freighted concept of "absolution," Bayliss has to
know that even a more basic "forgiveness" is something Frank can't offer him,
not for this extreme act.  "No, no, no, you're always gonna be a cop"--and
that rigid gatekeeper of morality cannot bend the rules.  Not even for the
man who willingly took a bullet for him.  In the end, the old-timer has
failed to toughen up the rookie sufficiently to be survive looking into the
heart of darkness--and the rookie has failed to sufficiently humanize the
grizzled veteran.  And that is the tragedy.

-----

Postscript: Fell's Point, Baltimore, 12/7/99, 4PM: several of us fans, in the
almost-right place at the right time, were fortunate enough to witness a
rehearsal of the roof scene.  Unfortunately, our vantage point was Brown's
Wharf, about a hundred and fifty feet away from where Andre Braugher
and Kyle Secor were blocking out the scene on the Stationhouse roof.  Straining
our ears, we learned that Bayliss had in fact killed Ryland--remember, this was
strongly suggested at the end of "Forgive Us Our Trespasses," but at the
time, we couldn't know this with any certainty.  Because of the distance,
traffic on Thames Street, wind, and pesky seagulls, the only bit of dialogue
we could clearly hear was:

BAYLISS: DID I TAKE A BULLET FOR YOU?
PEMBLETON: <inaudible> --
BAYLISS: DID I TAKE A BULLET FOR YOU?

Everything else we could kind of hear suggested--to each and every one of us
huddled together on that cold pier--that Tim was begging Frank NOT to turn
him in.  It goes without saying that we immediately agreed not to post this
devastating "spoiler" information online.  Imagine our collective shock when
The Movie aired, and the scene was 180 degrees from what we had thought!

-----
Many, many thanks to past and current denizens of the Usenet newsgroup
alt.tv.homicide, for their informed and impassioned postings on this and many
other subjects over the years.  "On the shoulders of giants," and all that.
Thanks to Teri V. for her superfine transcription of the roof scene,
<http://www.windowseat.org/homicide/scripts/themovie.html>