#african grey in Television shows

[beatyrosefirefly]

Multimedia Journal: Black-ish

Black-ish is a popular American sitcom that started in 2014, created by Kenya Barris. It follows the Johnson family: parents Dre (Anthony Anderson) and Rainbow (Tracee Ellis Ross), along with their four children, as they live in a mostly white, upper-middle-class neighborhood. The show uses humor to explore serious issues about race, culture, and identity, making it a great way to discuss the African American experience in today’s America (Barris, 2014).

Black-ish fits well with our course on multicultural America. It looks at the challenges African Americans face in balancing their own cultural identity with fitting into a mostly white society. The show talks about big topics like racism, cultural appropriation, and the pressure to blend in while keeping one’s heritage (Barris, 2014).

From our course readings, we see that Black-ish does a great job showing the many sides of African American life. It breaks down stereotypes and gives a real look at what it’s like to live in a diverse society. For example, in the episode "Juneteenth" (Season 4, Episode 1), the show explains the importance of Juneteenth, a holiday celebrating the end of slavery in the U.S. It also points out how this important day isn’t widely recognized, using humor to discuss serious messages about race and identity (Barris, 2017).

Black-ish" sparks important conversations about race, ethnicity, and cultural diversity through addressing sensitive issues, which the show tackles topics like racism, police brutality, and the complexities of being black in America. For example, the episode "Hope" directly addresses police brutality against African Americans, referencing real-life cases like Freddie Grey and Sandra Bland (Long, 2017). The show examines the tension between maintaining cultural roots and assimilating into mainstream society, a theme that resonates with the exploration of identity in projects like The Grace Lee Project and The Hapa Project (Long, 2017). By presenting a successful, upper-middle-class African American family, "Black-ish" challenges stereotypical portrayals of black families on television (Long, 2017). The show often incorporates historical information about the African American experience, educating viewers about aspects of black history that are often overlooked in mainstream education (Long, 2017). Black-ish" contributes to broader societal discussions about race and identity. Like Ligon's artwork, which challenges viewers to question their assumptions about racial features, "Black-ish" encourages its audience to confront their own biases and preconceptions about race (McNamara, 2014).

Black-ish" provides a detailed look at African American identity in today's America. The show explores the difficulties of keeping one's cultural identity while living in a mainly white society, similar to themes in Glenn Ligon's artwork "Self-Portrait Exaggerating my Black Features/Self-Portrait Exaggerating my White Features" (1998). The series addresses how race mixes with class, generational differences, and job status. For instance, Andre's promotion to "Senior Vice President of the Urban Division" highlights how race affects workplace dynamics. This well-rounded depiction gives viewers a better understanding of the challenges and successes experienced by African Americans today.

Additionally, Black-ish doesn’t shy away from controversial topics. Episodes have addressed police brutality ("Hope," Season 2, Episode 16), the N-word ("The Word," Season 2, Episode 1), and the 2016 presidential election ("Lemons," Season 3, Episode 12). These episodes provide a platform for viewers to engage with difficult conversations about race and politics, using the Johnson family’s experiences to reflect broader societal issues (Barris, 2016a, 2016b, 2017).

References

Barris, K. (2014). Black-ish. ABC.

Barris, K. (2016a). The Word. In Black-ish (Season 2, Episode 1). ABC.

Barris, K. (2016b). Hope. In Black-ish (Season 2, Episode 16). ABC.

Barris, K. (2017). Lemons. In Black-ish (Season 3, Episode 12). ABC.

Barris, K. (2017). Juneteenth. In Black-ish (Season 4, Episode 1). ABC.

Barris, K. (2019). Black Like Us. In Black-ish (Season 5, Episode 10). ABC.

Long, K. (2017). Black-ish and the black experience: Diversifying and affirming accurately and authentically. In Culture and the Sitcom: Student Essays (Chap. 5). Library Partners Press. https://librarypartnerspress.pressbooks.pub/studentessaysculturesitcomv1/chapter/black-ish-and-the-black-experience-diversifying-and-affirming-accurately-and-authentically/

Media links:

Photo 1: "Black-Ish" Ended, But Its Lesson Lives On (buzzfeed.com)

Photo 2: https://telltaletv.com/2017/10/blackish-review-juneteenth-season-4-episode-1/

Video 1: About "Juneteenth" https://telltaletv.com/2017/10/blackish-review-juneteenth-season-4-episode-1/

Video 2: Jimmy Kimmel interviews with the Black-ish cast. https://youtu.be/7OfOG4GgJSQ?si=AtnJLWBuqY77QjdG

[lboogie1906]

Paris K. C. Barclay (June 30, 1956) is a television director and producer, writer, LGBT activist. He is a two-time Emmy Award winner and is among the busiest single-camera television directors, having directed over 160 episodes of television, for series such as NYPD Blue, ER, The West Wing, CSI, Lost, The Shield, House, Law & Order, Monk, Numb3rs, City of Angels, Cold Case, and more recently Sons of Anarchy, The Bastard Executioner, The Mentalist, Weeds, NCIS: Los Angeles, In Treatment, Glee, Smash and The Good Wife, Extant, and Manhattan, Empire, and Scandal. He worked as an executive producer and principal director for Pitch. He was tapped as the executive producer and director of the Shondaland show, Station 19, which follows a group of Seattle firefighters that exist in the Grey’s Anatomy universe and stars Jaina Lee Ortiz, Jason George, Grey Damon, Miguel Sandoval, Jay Hayden, Danielle Savre, Barrett Doss, Okierette Onadowan, and Boris Kodjoe. The show is executive-produced by Shonda Rhimes, Betsy Beers, and Krista Vernoff.

He served two terms as the President of the Directors Guild of America, breaking historical grounds as the first African American and first Gay man to lead the organization. He has been listed by Variety as “one of the 500 most influential business leaders in Hollywood.”

He was born in Chicago Heights. Raised Catholic, he attended La Lumiere School, a private college preparatory boarding school in La Porte, Indiana. On scholarship, he was one of the first African-Americans to attend the school.

He went on to Harvard College, where he was extremely active in student musical theatre productions and the a cappella singing group The Harvard Krokodiloes. During his four years there, he wrote 16 musicals, including the music for two of the annual Hasty Pudding shows. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[carmenvicinanza]

Debbie Allen

Debbie Allen è l’attrice, ballerina, coreografa, regista e produttrice televisiva, conosciuta in tutto il mondo per la sua interpretazione dell’insegnante di danza Lydia Grant nella serie culto degli anni Ottanta Saranno famosi.

Ha lavorato a più di 50 film e produzioni televisive collezionando una bella sfilza di premi tra cui un Golden Globe, cinque Emmy Awards su venti nomination, due Tony Awards e dieci Image Award. Nel 1991 le è stata dedicata una stella sulla Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Come coreografa detiene il record per il maggior numero di vittorie e nomination agli Emmy.

Ha fatto parte della Commissione Presidenziale della Casa Bianca per le Arti e gli Studi Umanistici.

Un altro suo personaggio passato alla storia delle serie tv è stato la dottoressa Catherine Avery in Grey’s Anatomy.

Il suo nome completo è Deborah Kaye Allen ed è nata a Houston, il 16 gennaio 1950, sua madre è Vivian Ayers Allen, poeta e attivista culturale autrice di Spice of Dawns raccolta poetica nominata al Pulitzer e sua sorella è l’attrice e regista Phylicia Rashad, che è stata la famosa Clair Robinson nella sitcom The Cosby Show (in italiano I Robinson).

Debbie Allen, che danza da quando era una bambina, è laureata in letteratura greca alla Howard University e ha studiato recitazione alla HB Studio di New York.

Dopo anni, la sua università l’ha insignita col dottorato honoris causa così come la University of North Carolina School of the Arts.

Ha debuttato a Broadway nel 1970 e, dopo diversi musical e serie tv, è stata nel cast in un altro film televisivo che ha fatto epoca: Radici.

Nel 1980 ha ottenuto la prima candidatura ai Tony Awards come protagonista di West Side Story vincendo il Drama Desk Award. La sua prima volta al cinema è stata nel 1979, ma il ruolo che l’ha resa famosa è stato sicuramente quello di Miss Grant in  Saranno famosi. Oltre a recitare era anche la coreografa. È stata l’unica protagonista a lavorare nel film del 1980, diretto da Alan Parker, nella serie tv, girata tra il 1982 e il 1987, che le è valso due Emmy Awards e un Golden Globe (prima donna nera a vincere come miglior attrice per una serie tv) e anche nel remake del 2009 in cui era la preside della scuola d’arte.

Dopo diversi film e spettacoli a Broadway, ha diretto e prodotto 83 episodi della fortunata A different World serie spin-off del Cosby Show.

Ha anche inciso due dischi da solista Sweet Charity (1986) e Special Look (1989) e continuato a recitare, dirigere e creare coreografie per film, musical e numerose serie tv. Ha anche prestato la sua voce per diversi film d’animazione.

Come coreografa ha ricevuto 10 nomination agli Oscar, delle quali consecutivamente dal 1991 al 1994 e per Motown 30: What’s Goin’ on!  dedicato ai 30 anni della Motown che le è valso un altro Emmy per il segmento African American Odyssey.

Nel 1997 ha co-prodotto il film di Steven Spielberg Amistad, che le è valso il premio Producers Guild of America.

Nel 2001, a Los Angeles, ha fondato la Debbie Allen Dance Academy organizzazione no profit per incoraggiare giovani talenti.

Non ha mai smesso di dirigere musical e serie di successo come Scandal, Le regole del delitto perfetto, Empire e altre ancora, quasi tutte hanno come protagonista una donna nera.

Nel 2020 ha diretto, prodotto e curato le coreografie di Natale in città con Dolly Parton, che le è valso la quinta statuetta per le coreografie oltre al Governors Award 2021. Premio per meriti artistici accumulati o straordinari al di là delle candidature degli Emmy. Tre mesi prima era stata festeggiata ai Kennedy Center Honors.

Debbie Allen non ha mai mancato di dare il suo contributo in cause contro razzismo e violenza sulle donne, ha composto la coreografia del famoso flash mob mondiale One Billion Rising e marciato contro le politiche misogine di Trump.

Una carriera lunga cinquant’anni la sua, accompagnata dalla partecipazione sociale come artista e come singola cittadina per rivendicare diritti non ancora raggiunti o in continuo pericolo. Una vera forza della natura.

[hardynwa]

Wild Africa Fund unveils Nigeria’s first wildlife show for kids

Wild Africa Fund has launched a new wildlife-focused television series, Dr Mark Animal TV Show, for kids between ages seven and 14. This is contained in a statement by Wild Africa Fund Nigeria’s Representative, Mr Festus Iyorah, on Saturday in Lagos. “The kiddies show premieres this Saturday and every other Saturday at 8.45 a.m. on Silverbird TV DSTV channel 252, StarTimes Channel 109, and GOTV channel 92/192. “The show will educate children between ages seven and 14 on Nigeria’s amazing wildlife and the need to protect them,” the statement said. It said that Nigeria had become a transit hub for the illegal wildlife trade of pangolin scales and ivory in the last few years. The statement noted that the Nigeria Customs Service had made four major seizures of pangolin scales, ivory, and other wildlife parts in the last 13 months. It added that there was a growing appetite for bushmeat consumption, especially among urban dwellers in Nigeria. “Conservationists say illegal wildlife trade and a demand for bushmeat have sharply declined Nigeria’s wildlife and biodiversity. “They estimate that Nigeria has fewer than 50 lions, 100 gorillas, 500 elephants, and 2,300 chimpanzees left in the wild. “Generally, ignorance and low awareness about Nigeria’s amazing biodiversity and the importance wild animals play in the environment have contributed to the continuous destruction of Nigeria’s wildlife. “These existential challenges have inspired the need for public awareness and educational materials that educate the general public, especially young people who are best equipped to save our environment for future generations,” it said. The statement quoted Mr Peter Knights, Founder of Wild Africa Fund and the Executive producer of the new TV show as saying that kids would enjoy the show. “We hope that kids will be excited to learn about these animals and how we must protect them for their futures,” Knights said. The statement added that Mark’s Animal TV show would enlighten children on the human and ecological importance of wild animals such as pangolins, lions and African grey parrots, among others. It said that the children would also learn fun facts about these animals including domestic animals like dogs. The statement said that a quiz competition had veen scheduled to inspire retentive knowledge in kids at the end of the show. It said that the animal show comes at a time local content for children, especially on the environment, is nonexistent. The statement also quoted Iyorah as saying that Wild African Fund would continue to invest in educational wildlife content. “We plan to invest in educational wildlife content that will empower children as the next generation of wildlife ambassadors. “We expect children to impact their cycle of influence with what they learnt from watching the show,” he said. Read the full article

[hauntedstarfishbanana]

Everything You've Ever Wanted to Know About producent skarpetek

Africa is undergoing an incredible Artistic renaissance, it truly is mindblowing to witness. I a short while ago moved from your United kingdom to Ghana to experience Africa and its Imaginative elevation mainly producent skarpetek because it unfolds. On this page, I'm planning to showcase a number of the most fascinating Innovative makes to come out in the continent.™

Chale Socks

Chale Socks are an ground breaking, Ghanaian clothing brand name. Their bold, distinct styles concentrate on utilising common Adinkra symbols and African styles and motifs to generate beautiful, artistic socks.

OhYesLord

OhYesLord is usually a Johannesburg-primarily based streetwear model. Their Most important intention is to market African youth culture. Their models are straightforward still eye-catching, capturing the absolutely free spirited character of African youth.

Waffles N Cream

Wafflesncream is actually a skateboard collective located in Lagos Nigeria. In combination with the collective, In addition they operate a quirky streetwear clothes store. A really impressive model, advertising and marketing creative self expression among the Nigerian youth.

Tongoro

Tongoro is owned and managed by productive media mogul Sarah Diouf. The Dakar-based mostly trend model called Tongoro studio provides Daring, nonetheless basic models.

Selly Raby Kane

Selly Raby Kane can be a Senegalese vogue designer who makes remarkably creative pieces. Her brand was born out of a passion for urban African motivated model. Her items show an uninhibited design and style and grace. The brand name is often referred to as superior trend satisfies edgy, urban Afro chic.

My Working experience Dealing with African Inventive Models

I have worked with numerous African Inventive manufacturers. I observed the passion, dedication to their craft and also the perseverance to succeed in a continent where by chances are very easy to location but difficult to capitalise on. The talent in Africa is unbelievable, inspiring, motivating. When I touch down on African soil, my initially thought is to produce, discover, produce. Africa pushes you in a way that I might have not believed doable.

African brands embody a uniqueness that is difficult to find any place else on the earth. You will find a raw grit and fervour amongst African creatives. The fire burns sturdy, it is truly survival of the fittest on the market. The lucky couple who ensure it is to the very best can only but reminisce on battle, times passed by where almost nothing seemed hopeful, every thing appeared hopeless but nonetheless they pushed on through concern, obstacles and uncertainty. There is a thing definitely special happening in Africa right this moment, I'm blessed being listed here to witness everything unfold right before my really eyes.

Some time back I wrote and posting on this subject. However, Letterman suggests his socks aren't white. Very well, they look white on my television set. They must glimpse white to others as well or why would he make the comment. I suppose These are grey or light-weight blue or these kinds of. Who cares? Will not They appear foolish on a man in the darkish Brooks Brothers go well with?

I dress in white socks each day. Once i set them on Sunday to head to Church my spouse goes ballistic. I explain to her not to fret. I'll just pull on my cowboy boots.

Here's the very first best 10 factors I gave for Letterman's white socks:

1. He has jungle rot from WW II.

two. He hates to look for matching socks in the dead of night.

3. He isn't going to wish to ignore his "Region Pumpkin" roots.

four. His brother is a male nurse with a large garments allowance.

five. It can help him conceal from the cotton discipline in the revenuers, Aside from he's a Chicago White Sox supporter.

six. He is surely an avid Whitetail Deer hunter.

seven. He is effective an evening work inside of a bakery.

eight. He thinks he is Frosty the Snowman.

9. His fantastic grandmother wore white socks and that's how he remembers her.

And also the tenth cause that David Letterman wears white sox is:

ten. He hopes to try out for the following Mickey-Mouse-kind Disney Character.

Allow me to share 10 additional prime causes David Letterman wears white socks but this time we will use Letterman's reverse get:

Quantity ten. He is recognizing the demise with the Polar Bear.

Number 9. He is going to Engage in inside the snow along with his boy and he doesn't want the neighbors to determine him.

Range eight. It ruins the photos with the paparazzi.

Quantity seven. He can discover matching socks at nighttime with out waking his son.

Selection six. The hospital recommends white socks for repeated emergency bypass operation.

Selection five. He read that Napoleon favored white socks.

Range four. He does not want to be chosen as the most beneficial Dressed Man from the Year by Persons Magazine.

Variety 3. He's going to Bermuda appropriate following the demonstrate and will be shifting into his white go well with.

Range two. Paul explained he seems terrific dressed similar to a geek--

as well as the Number One motive that Dave Letterman wears white sox is:

No 1. It is a component of his Clown Match!

Fly Aged Glory!

[gender0bender]

IDs: two photos of Beverly Glenn-Copeland, an elderly black transgender man. The first photo shows him looking to the right and smiling serenly. He is wearing an open collar grey shirt and has close cropped grey hair, with a small fuzzy beard on his chin. The colours of the photo have been edited to look abstract and vibrant. The second photograph is of him sat in a yellow swivel chair with his legs crossed, resting his hands on his knee and smiling widely at the camera. He is wearing a dark blue suit with a light blue tie. ED.

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/09/21/beverly-glenn-copelands-music-for-a-future-that-never-came

“In the early nineteen-eighties, Beverly Glenn-Copeland was living in a quiet part of Ontario famous for its scenic hills and lakes. He heard about the advent of the personal computer and, owing to a fascination with “Star Trek” and science-fiction futurism, became instantly intrigued. He bought one, even though he had no idea how to use it. Initially, he just walked around with his computer cradled in his arms, hoping that its secrets would reveal themselves.

For the next few years, Glenn-Copeland’s free time was spent shovelling snow, feeding his family, and teaching himself how to use his computer to make music. He later recalled that his creative community consisted of trees, bears, and rabbits—“the natural world, that was my companion.” He slept only a few hours a night, kept awake by the conviction that his computer could help him produce sounds that had never been heard before.

Glenn-Copeland, who is a transgender man, was born Beverly in Philadelphia in 1944. (He goes by Glenn, but he retained his birth name after his transition.) His family was middle class and Quaker, and many of the struggles faced by African-Americans seemed abstract to him as a child. His father would sit at the piano for hours a day playing Bach, Chopin, and Mozart, and Glenn-Copeland began learning the German lieder style of singing. He briefly studied with the opera singer Eleanor Steber. Occasionally, his mother would sing him Negro spirituals.

Glenn-Copeland enrolled at McGill University, in Montreal, in 1961, becoming one of its first Black students. At the time, he identified as female. After he was ostracized for being in an openly lesbian relationship, he dropped out and became a folk musician. In the late sixties and early seventies, he recorded a couple of bluesy folk albums that call to mind Joni Mitchell or Odetta, full of the kind of searching, heartbroken songs that one learns to write by listening to other people’s searching, heartbroken songs. Often, they sound as if Glenn-Copeland were trying to fit his operatic range into a narrow band of sentimentality. “So you run to the mirror in search of a reason / But the ice upon your eyelids only reminds you of the season / I don’t despair / Tomorrow may bring roses,” he sings. At first, his vocals are restrained and quivering. But then he lets loose, soaring above the strummed guitars and forlorn pianos.

By the time Glenn-Copeland began teaching himself how to use a computer, he was working in children’s television, writing songs for “Sesame Street” and performing on a Canadian program called “Mr. Dressup.” He had become immersed in Buddhism and its traditions. The music he was making was spacious and unpredictable, nothing like his work from the seventies. Some songs resembled techno anthems slowed to a crawl; others seemed like furtive experiments in rendering the sound of a trickling stream with a synthesizer. Instead of paeans to a lover, there were odes to higher powers and changing seasons, lyrics about spiritual rebirth and the great outdoors. “Ever New” slowly builds, a series of synth lines layering on one another, until Glenn-Copeland finally begins singing: “Welcome the child / Whose hand I hold / Welcome to you both young and old / We are ever new.” He made two hundred cassette copies of an album called “Keyboard Fantasies.” And then, befitting his life philosophy, Glenn-Copeland moved on to the next thing. More snow.”

[foreverdavidbyrne]

David Byrne’s interview in NME magazine

In 1979, David Byrne predicted Netflix. “It’ll be as easy to hook your computer up to a central television bank as it is to get the week’s groceries,” he told NME’s Max Bell, sitting in a Paris hotel considering the implications of Talking Heads’ dystopian single ‘Life During Wartime’.

He predicted the Apple Watch in that interview too: “[People will] be surrounded by computers the size of wrist watches.” And he foresaw surveillance culture and data harvesting: “Government surveillance becomes inevitable because there’s this dilemma when you have an increase in information storage. A lot of it is for your convenience, but as more information gets on file, it’s bound to be misused.”

In fact, over 40 years ago, he predicted the entire modern-day experience, as if he instinctively knew what was coming. “We’ll be cushioned by amazing technological development,” he said, “but sitting on Salvation Army furniture.”

The 68-year-old Byrne says today, “You can’t say that you know,” chuckling down a Zoom link from his home in New York and belying his reputation for awkwardness by seeming giddily relieved to be talking to someone. “It’s crazy to set yourself up as some sort of prophet. But there’s plenty of people who have done well with books where they claim to predict what’s going on. I suppose sometimes it’s possible to let yourself imagine, ‘Okay – what if?’ This can evolve into something that exists, can evolve into something more substantial, cheaper – these kinds of things.”

It’s been a lifelong gift. Byrne turned up at CBGBs in 1975 with his art school band Talking Heads touting ‘Psycho Killer’, as if predicting the punk scene’s angular melodic evolution, new wave, before punk was even called punk. In 1980, Talking Heads assimilated African beats and textures into their seminal ‘Remain In Light’ album, foreshadowing ‘world music’ and modern music’s globalist melting pot, then used it to warn America of the dangers of consumerism, selfishness and the collapse of civilisation. Pioneering or propheteering, Byrne has been on the front-line of musical evolution for 45 years, collaborating with fellow visionaries from Brian Eno to St Vincent’s Annie Clark, constantly imagining, ‘What if?’

The live music lockdown has been a frustrating freeze frame, but Byrne was already leading the way into music’s new normal. Launched in 2018, the tour to support his 10th solo album, ‘American Utopia’, has now turned into a cinematic marvel courtesy of Spike Lee – the concert film was released in the UK this week. The original tour was acclaimed as a live music revolution. Using remote technology, Byrne was able to remove all of the traditional equipment clutter from the stage and allow his musicians and dancers, in uniform grey suits and barefoot, to roam around a stage lined with curtains of metal chains with their instruments strapped to them. A Marshally distanced gig, if you will.

“As the show was conceptually coming together, I realised that once we had a completely empty stage the rulebook has now been thrown out,” Byrne says. “Now we can go anywhere and do anything. This is completely liberating. It means that people like drummers, for example, who are usually relegated to the back shadows, can now come to the front – all those kinds of things – which changes the whole dynamic.”

With six performers making up an entire drum kit and Byrne meandering through the choreography trying to navigate a nonsensical world, the show was his most striking and original since he jerked and jived around a constructed-mid-gig band set-up in Jonathan Demme’s legendary 1984 Talking Heads live film Stop Making Sense.

The American Utopia show embarked on a Broadway run last year, where Byrne super-fan Spike Lee saw it twice and leapt at the chance of turning the spectacle into Byrne’s second revolutionary live film, dotted with his musings on the human condition to illuminate the crux of the songs: institutional racism, our lack of modern connection, the erosion of democracy and, on opener ‘Here’, a lecture-like tour of the human brain, Byrne holding aloft a scale model, trying to fathom, ‘How do I work this?’

“I didn’t know how much of a fan Spike was!” Byrne laughs today. “He’d even go, ‘Why don’t you do this song? Why don’t you add this song in’. We knew one another casually so I could text him and say, ‘I want you to come and see our show; I think that you might be interested in making a film of it’.”

Are the days of the traditional stage set-up numbered? “Yes, I think so,” he replies. “At least in theatres and concert halls the size that I would normally play, yes. The fact that we can get the music digitally [means] a performance has to be really of value. It has to be really something special, because that’s where the performers are getting their money and that’s what the audience is paying for. They’re not paying very much for streaming music, but they are paying quite a bit to go and see a performance, so the performance has to give them value for money… It has to be really something to see.”

How does David Byrne envisage the future possibilities of live performance?

“I’ve seen a lot of things that hip-hop artists have done – like the Kanye West show where he emerges on a platform that floats above the stage,” he says. “I’d seen one with Kendrick Lamar where it was pretty much just him on stage, an empty stage with just him on stage and a DJ, somebody with a laptop – that was it. I thought, ‘Wow’. Then he started doing things with huge projections behind. There are lots of ways to do this. I love the idea of working with a band, with live musicians. ‘How can I innovate in this kind of way?’ It’s maybe easier for a hip-hop musician who doesn’t have a band to figure out. The pressure is on to come up with new ways of doing this.”

In liberating his musicians from fixed, immovable positions, American Utopia also acts as a metaphor for freeing our minds from our own ingrained ways of thinking. As Byrne intersperses Talking Heads classics such as ‘Once In A Lifetime’, ‘I Zimbra’ and ‘Road To Nowhere’ with choice solo cuts and tracks from ‘American Utopia’, he also dots the show with musings on an array of post-millennial questions: the health of democracy; the rise of xenophobia and fascism; our increasing reliance on materialism and online communication; the climate change threat; the existential nightmare of the dating app; and, crucially, the distances all of these things put between us.

“The ‘likes’ and friends and connections and everything that the internet enables,” he argues, “even Zoom calls like this, they’re no substitute for really being with other people. Calling social networks ‘social’ is a bit of an exaggeration.”

Byrne closes the show with the suggestion that, rather than isolate behind our LCD barriers, we should try to reconnect with each other. In an age when social media has descended into all-out thought war and anyone can find concocted ‘facts’ to support anything they want to believe, is that realistic?

“I have a little bit of hope,” he says. “Not every day, but some days. I have hope that people will abandon a lot of social media, that they’ll realise how intentionally addictive it is, and they’re actually being used, and that they might enjoy actually being with other people rather than just constantly scrolling through their phone. So, I’m a little bit optimistic that people will, in some ways, use this technology a little bit less than they have.”

A key moment in American Utopia comes with Byrne’s cover of Janelle Monae’s ‘Hell You Talmbout’, a confrontational track shouting the names of African-Americans who have been killed by police or in racially motivated attacks – Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin, George Floyd and far, far too many more. Does Byrne think the civil unrest in the wake of Floyd’s death and the rise of the Black Lives Matter movement make a serious impact?

“We’ll see how long this continues,” he says, “but in projects that I’m working on – there’s a theatre project I’m working on in Denver, there’s the idea of bringing this show back to Broadway, there’s other projects – those issues came to the fore. Issues of diversity and inclusion and things like that, which were always there. Now they’re being taken more seriously. The producers and theatre owners realise that they can’t push those things aside, that they have to be included in the whole structure of how a show gets put together.”

“At least for now, that seems to be a big change. I see it in TV shows and other areas too. There’s a lot of tokenism, but there’s a lot of real opportunity and changed thinking as well.”

Elsewhere, he encourages his audience to register to vote, and had registration booths at the shows. He must have been pleased about the record turnout in the recent US election? “Yeah, the turnout was great. Now you just got to keep doing that. Gotta keep doing it at all the local elections, too. It was important for me not to endorse a political party or anything in the show but to say, ‘Listen, we can’t have a democracy if you don’t vote. You have to get out there and let your voice be heard and there’s lots of people trying to block it.’ We have to at least try.”

Will Trump’s loss help bring people together after four years with such a divisive influence in charge?

“Yes. I think for me Trump was not so much a shock; we knew who he is. He was around New York before that, in the reality show [The Apprentice], we knew what kind of character he was. What shocked me was how quickly the Republican party all fell into line behind him, behind this guy who’s obviously a racist, misogynist liar and everything else. But it’s kind of encouraging – although it’s taken four years and with some it’s only with the prospect of him being gone – that quite a few have been breaking ranks. There are some possibilities of bridge building being held out.”

But, he says, “It’s too early to celebrate,” concerned that Senate Majority Leader and fairweather Trump loyalist Mitch McConnell will use any Republican control of the Senate to block many of Biden’s policies from coming into effect. “[This] is what happened with Obama… I want to see real change happen. [Climate change] absolutely needs to be a priority. The clock had turned back over the last four years, so there’s a lot to be done. Whether there’s the willpower to do everything that needs to be done, it remains to be seen, but at least now it’s pointing in the right direction.”

How will he look back on the last four years? Byrne ponders. “I’m hoping that I look back at it as a near-miss.”

American Utopia is as much a personal journey as a dissection of modern ills. Ahead of ‘Everybody’s Coming To My House’, Byrne admits to being a rather socially awkward type. He claims that a choir of Detroit teenagers, when singing the song for the accompanying video, had imbued the song with a far more welcoming message than his own rendition, which found him wracked with the fear that his visitors might never leave. How does someone like that deal with celebrity?

“In a certain way it’s a blessing,” Byrne grins, “because I don’t have to go up to people to talk to them – they sometimes come up to me. In other ways it’s a little bit awkward. Celebrity itself seems very superficial and I have to constantly remind myself that your character, your behaviour and the work that you do is what’s important – not how well known you are, not this thing of celebrity. I learned early on it’s pretty easy to get carried away. But it does have its advantages. I had Spike Lee’s phone number, so I could text him.”

Talking Heads drummer Chris Frantz’s recent book Remain In Love suggests that the more successful Byrne got early on, the more distant he became.

Byrne nods. “I haven’t read the book, but I know that as we became more successful I definitely used some of that to be able to work on other projects. I worked on a dance score with [American choreographer] Twyla Tharp and I worked on a theatre piece with [director] Robert Wilson – other kinds of things – [and] I started working on directing some of the band’s music videos. So I guess I spent less time just hanging out. As often happens with bands, you start off being all best friends and doing everything together and after a while that gets to be a bit much. Everybody develops their own friends and it’s like, ‘I have my own friends too’. Everybody starts to have their own lives.”

The future is far too enticing for David Byrne to consider revisiting the past. “I do live alone so sometimes it would get lonely”, he says of lockdown, but he’s been using his Covid downtime to cycle around undiscovered areas of New York and remain philosophical about the aftermath.

“We’ll see how long before the vaccine is in, before we return to being able to socialise,” he says, “but I’m also wondering, ‘How am I going to look at this year? Am I going to look at it as, “Oh yes, that’s the year that was to some extent taken away from our lives; our lives were put on pause?”’ We kept growing; we kept ageing; we keep eating, but it was almost like this barrier had been put up. It has been a period where, in a good way, it’s led us to question a lot of what we do. You get up in the morning and go, ‘Why am I doing this? What am I doing this for? What’s this about?’ Everything is questioned.”

Post-vaccine, he hopes to “travel a little bit” before looking into plans to bring the ‘American Utopia’ show back to Broadway, and possibly even to London if the financial aspects can be worked out. “Often when a show like that travels, the lead actors might travel,” Byrne explains, “but in this case it’s the entire cast that has to travel. So you’ve got a lot of hotel bills and all that kind of stuff. We wanted to do it. There might be a way, if we can figure that out.”

Once we all get our jab, will everyone come to recognise that, as Byrne sings on ‘American Utopia’s most inspiring track, ‘Every Day Is A Miracle’? “Optimistically, maybe,” he says. “There will be a lot of people who will just go, ‘Let’s get back to normal – get out to the bars, the clubs and discos’. That’s already been happening in New York; there’s been these underground parties where people just can’t help themselves. But after all this it’d be nice to think that people might reassess things a little bit.”

And with the algorithm as the new gatekeeper and technology beginning to subsume the sounds and consumption of music, what does the new wave Nostradamus foresee for rock in the coming decades? Will AIs soon be writing songs for other AIs to consume to inflate the numbers, cutting humanity out of the equation altogether?

“It seems like there’ll be a kind of factory,” Byrne predicts, “an AI factory of things like that, and of newspaper articles and all of this kind of stuff, and it will just exaggerate and duplicate human biases and weaknesses and stupidity. On the other hand, I was part of a panel a while back, and a guy told a story about how his listening habits were Afrofuturism and ambient music – those were his two favourite ways to go. The algorithm tried to find commonalities between the two so it could recommend things to him and he said it was hopeless. Everything it recommended was just horrible because it tried to find commonalities between these two very separate things. This just shows that we’re a little more eclectic than these machines would like to think.”

And in the distant future? Best prepare to welcome your new gloop overlords. Byrne isn’t concerned about The Singularity – the point at which machine intelligence supersedes ours and AI becomes God – but instead believes that future technologies will emulate microbial forms.

“I watched a documentary on slime moulds [a simple slimy organism] the other day,” he says, warming to his sticky theme. “Slime moulds are actually extremely intelligent for being a single-celled organism. They can build networks and bunches of them can communicate. They can learn, they have memories, they can do all these kinds of things that you wouldn’t expect a single-celled organism to be able to do.”

“I started thinking, ‘Well, is there a lesson there for AI and machine learning, of how all these emerging properties could be done with something as simple as a single cell?’ It’s all in there… when things interact, they become greater than the sum of their parts. I thought, okay, maybe the future of AI is not in imitating human brains, but imitating these other kinds of networks, these other kinds of intelligences. Forget about imitating human intelligence – there’s other kinds of intelligence out there, and that might be more fruitful. But I don’t know where that leads.”

His grin says he does know, that he has a vision of our icky soup-world future, but maybe the rest of the species isn’t yet advanced enough to handle it. But if we’re evolving towards disaster rather than utopia, we can trust David Byrne to give us plenty of warning.

December 18, 2020

[alexthegamingboy]

Toonami Weekly Recap 8/28/2021

Fena: Pirate Princess EP#04 - The Mystery of the Stone: As the Bonito II sails to the German village of Libar-Oberstein, Fena tries to get her protectors to teach her how to fight, but with little success. Upon arriving in the village, they meet a woman named Arya, who takes them to see her grandfather the Burgomaster. In exchange for Yukimaru sharpening his knife, the Burgomaster offers to help them find the origin of the stone. He tells them that the stone actually came to the village from somewhere in France, but the buyer was listed as La Pucelle d'Orléans, the nickname given to Joan of Arc. However, the listed date of purchase was in 1436, five years after she was burned at the stake, adding to the mystery of the stone. As Fena's crew leave the village, Fena recalls someone mentioning the name "La Pucelle" to her as young child. Meanwhile, Abel grimaces over a painting he calls "La Pucelle" as he continues pursuing Fena.

Yashahime: Princess Half-Demon EP#09 - Meifuku, the Meioju: Konton, one of the Four Perils, destroys a fortress atop a mountain to establish his lair. Jūbei announces that there is a huge bounty on him and Moroha accepts the mission, but Towa and Setsuna refuse, until Jūbei suggests that they should use the money as a reward for info about the Dream Butterfly. The three girls fight Konton, but his armor is too strong for their attacks and they are overpowered until Meifuku, a Meiōjū child appears to rescue them. Meifuku reveals that Konton killed his father and used part of his shell to make his armor. Since then he has searched for Konton in order to retrieve it and give his father a proper funeral. Konton attacks the group and Towa realizes that Konton created his armor by draining the demonic energy from Meifuku's father's shell, returning it to normal by infusing it with her own energy. Without his armor, Konton is forced to flee. Meifuku returns his father's shell so that he can finally pass away, and the girls regret that they could not get the bounty on the enemy's head, while a humiliated Konton swears vengeance on them from inside his new cavern lair.

My Hero Academia Season 5 (Endeavor Agency Arc) EP#105 (17): The Hellish Todoroki Family: A week into the work studies, Endeavor gets a call from Fuyumi who suggests bringing the trio home for dinner. The dinner soon gets uncomfortable as the conversation switches from being about Fuyumi's cooking to how Endeavor prevented Todoroki from eating Natsuo's cooking. Natsuo soon gets up and leaves. After dinner, Midoriya and Bakugo overhear Todoroki and Fuyumi talking about everything. Todoroki says he can't forgive Endeavor so easily for what he did to their mother and is unsure of how to feel. Midoriya tells Todoroki he believes he's getting ready to forgive Endeavor, that it’s fine to not be able to forgive him if he wants. Endeavor thinks about what he can do for his family after all this time and wishes that Toya could’ve been there too. A few days earlier, a hooded man is released from prison and walks around a Christmas-decorated bazaar, gleefully smiling when he comes across a television playing Endeavor's victory over High-End.

Food Wars: The Fourth Plate (Promotion Exams Arc) EP#63 (02) - The Strobe Flashes: As the second round continues, Mimasaka provides Kuga with a bottle of specially prepared smoked soy sauce, reminding everybody that under the rules of a Team Shokugeki, chefs on the same team can help each other. Kuga then starts smoking fried pork with green tea leaves. Meanwhile, Mimasaka faces off against Saitou, a sushi chef, making tuna a perfect ingredient for him. Mimasaka uses an improved version of his Perfect Trace technique, Perfect Trace Flash, to instantly copy Saitou's moves. Mimasaka and Saitou complete their nearly identical sushi dishes, while Rindou completes her Laziji Caiman dish and Megishima finishes his African Ramen. However, Mimasaka and Megishima lose to Rindou and Saitou. Kuga then presents his dish to the judges.

Black Clover: The Spade Kingdom and the Dark Triad Arc EP#163 - Dante vs. the Captain of the Black Bulls: Grey recalls how her stepmother doted on her beautiful stepsisters while she was abused. After receiving her Grimoire she made herself beautiful, causing her stepsisters to attack her. She ran away only to be saved from bandits by Gauche who told her to find some resolve. Grey began assuming her giant scary form to survive, joining the Bulls to be close to Gauche. Desperate not to let Gauche die, Grey uses her transformation magic to turn Gauche’s wound into healed flesh. Dante knocks Asta unconscious and decides he wants both Vanessa and Grey as mistresses, but they are saved when Finral arrives with Yami. Yami shows he can use his Black Hole spell to generate gravitational fields and resist Dante’s gravity. Dante confirms Yami is the arcane mage he needs to cut through dimensions and reach the underworld. Yami responds by slashing Dante’s chest. The Disciples defeat the spirit guardians and begin destroying the Heart Kingdom. Luck challenges the Disciple Svenkin, who can manipulate his body to make it perfectly resistant to any magic, including Luck’s lightning. Disgusted by Svenkin’s selfish personality Luck uses a spell he learned from Gaja and turns himself into a spear of naturally generated lightning, which Svenkin cannot defend against, and shoots himself straight through Svenkin’s chest, defeating him.

[parrish-tessa]

Tumblr 1: Post/Television

The television show that I chose to analyze for this assignment is “How to get away with Murder”.  The subject of this show is a lawyer, Annalise Keating, who is a teaching a law class, which she has decided to call “How to get away with Murder”.  A group of students are selected to help her on a case, and then eventually used what they learned in class to get away with murder.   I do not watch a ton of television, and I honestly chose this show because the title caught my attention.  Although I am glad that I chose the title, because it was very interesting.

In my short time of watching the show the first thing I noticed was a prominent black woman played the main character of Annalise Keating, who can be seen in figure 2.  One of the previous discussion assignments in this class was based on a documentary, “Through the Lens Darkly”.  

Figure 1, Through A Lens Darkly

Through lens darkly was about how when cameras used to be an item not everyone had in their homes, and only white people had them.  This meant that only white people photographed black people, and the perspective of the photos was from a white persons point of view.  Many of the photos were dark and appeared more grim than photos of white people.  In this documentary African American photographers present photos that they took of African American life.  These photos tell an entirely different story than the photos of black people that have been viewed earlier in history, a happier and more wholesome picture.  Anyways, “How to make a Murderer” is produced by an african american woman, Shonda Rhimes, who is very successful in her career. Rhimes has produced countless other popular television series such as: Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal, and Station 19, among many others.  As a successful african american woman Shonda Rhimes is the best candidate to produce a show about a highly successful black female lawyer.  Rhimes seems to incorporate small sections which show hardships that Keating may face because of her race.  By doing so Rhimes is bringing attention to a problem which is still prevalent in the United States, and hopefully doing something to help correct the problem too.   

Figure 2, Annalise Keating

References:

Harris, T. A. (2014). Through A Lens Darkly: Black Photographers and the Emergence of a People (2014). Uploaded by Family Pictures USA on 2020, June 19 to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=THZWSexAjgk.

“How to Get Away with Murder (Season 5).” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 18 Aug. 2020, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/How_to_Get_Away_with_Murder_(season_5).

“Shonda Rhimes.” IMDb, IMDb.com, www.imdb.com/name/nm0722274/.

“Through a Lens Darkly.” PBS, Public Broadcasting Service, 15 July 2021, www.pbs.org/independentlens/documentaries/through-a-lens-darkly/.

[lboogie1906]

Ellen Holly (born January 16, 1931) is an actress. Beginning her career on stage in the late 1950s, she is known for her role as Carla Gray–Hall on the soap opera One Life to Live (1968–1986). She is noted as the first African American to appear on daytime television. She was born in New York to William Garnet Holly and Grace Holly. She is a life member of The Actors Studio. She began her career on stage appearing in the Broadway productions of Tiger, Tiger Burning Bright, and A Hand Is on the Gate, then embarked on a television and film career. She guest-starred on Sam Benedict and The Nurses. When she began on One Life to Live in October, her African-American heritage was not publicized as part of the storyline; her character, named Carla Benari, was a touring actress of apparently Italian-American heritage. Carla and white physician Dr. Jim Craig fell in love and became engaged, but she was falling for an African-American doctor. When the two kissed onscreen, it was reported that the switchboards were busy fans thought that the show had shown an African-American and white person kissing. The fact that Carla was the African-American Clara Grey posing as white was revealed when Sadie Grey, played by Lillian Hayman, was identified as her mother. Sadie convinced her daughter to embrace her heritage and tell the truth. According to her autobiography One Life: The Autobiography of an African American Actress, she was fired from the show by new executive producer Paul Rauch. She returned to daytime in the long-term recurring role of a judge on Guiding Light. She made a return to the small screen in 2002 when she appeared as Selena Frey in 10,000 Black Men Named George. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #deltasigmatheta https://www.instagram.com/p/CnefCABrJOE/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[theteej]

“You need to take serious time for yourself, do self-care, or something,” my best friend Mark said to me, uncomfortably earnestly. 

“I’m serious.  You haven’t been letting anything in, and you just have to sit and stop running.  Go process, or feel, or just let it sink in that you did things and you surprisingly don’t suck.”

Fuck, he’s right.

And so that’s what I’m doing.  Last week I booked an Airbnb in La Jolla, a tony coastal enclave of San Diego near where I went to undergrad.  I pretended I was on vacation, but in a pandemic.  I booked a small studio near the water, and planned to spend these next few days reading, reflecting, walking along the ocean, and staying otherwise indoors and trying to wrestle with this whole semester.  I pulled up to the studio last night, unpacked my bags, and cried.  Like cried a lot.  I felt lonely and scared, but also so numb.  I felt a sea of blankness all around me, and a sense of trepidation.

Honestly, I don’t know what to do about all of my stupid feelings.

 

Where to start?

 

I feel like I’ve been anxious nearly my whole life.  It’s absolutely something that developed as a kid with a violent, drunken father.  You learn to live in between heartbeats like that, always testing what’s about to happen, trying to think of the next thing to plan in order to stay safe.  Sure, your brain says tauntingly.  Things are OK right now, but what if they’re not in a few minutes?  Or even worse: Things ARE terrible—what are you going to do if they stay that way forever?  These are the gifts Tyrone Tallie Sr left me, along with an unoriginal legal name and a stubborn widows peak visible whenever I grow my hair out for a few weeks.

Couple that with a natural tendency to think quickly, and you have the birth of a personality that masked my calculating self-security by turning those constant permutations into clever moments for interaction or comment.  Like many people, my wit is born of trauma; the ability to process things in quick time is born out of needing to feel safe, and frequently gets deployed to put others at ease.  That’s one of the weirder contradictory things about being me.  I am simultaneously witty and clever and in control, and I am also always quietly freaking out, or at the very least, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Which is why this has been….a damn semester.  Teaching two classes fully remotely with panicked, overwhelmed students in the shadow of an ever-worsening pandemic that stretches on and on without end and feeling daily gaslighted by the endless selfishness of your fellow citizens—what a gift for the anxious.  Ironically, anxiety helped to a certain extent because I didn’t have the shock of falling into a new world of uncertainty or fear that so many non-anxious folk did this year.  But that’s hardly a gift, is it?  Congratulations! You’re already living as if a bomb can go off at any moment, so you’re not struggling to adjust to the new horror show of life!

Teaching this semester has been…just without any context.  I’ve taught online, but not in this same planned way and with everyone panicking, and the looming threat of pandemic and election.  And yet we did it.  We pulled ourselves together, and my students were honest about their needs and their breakdowns and I tried to model humility and grace and confusion and rage as well as they did.  We didn’t fuck it up.  Or, we all fucked up, and it was okay.  We learned things. Students surprised me, and it was glorious.  I got to be broken and I didn’t die.

It was an intense semester of overworking as well.  I was on a bunch of committees, formal and informal, and we managed to get a new minor—African Studies—passed.  I’ll be heading a new program on campus next year, and that’s exciting and terrifying.  And on top of all of that, I couldn’t stop volunteering for stuff, or talking about things I cared about.  In addition to teaching, I gave fourteen different presentations or talks this semester, an increase in expectations or agreements on my part thanks to the ubiquity of zoom.  It grinds on you: the whole, get up, trudge to the back room, power up a personality for the zoom camera, and pour yourself digitally into a screen, only to feel yourself broken into little packets of light and data and scattered across the universe.

The talks went well.  The student evaluations went well.  Honestly, both were fucking great.  And I haven’t let myself feel a goddamn thing.  I let it slide off me like rain on a waxed deck, the droplets beading on the slick wood before slipping away into the darkness.  I cant let it sink in, because then something good might be happening, and the very skills that have made me capable—the whip-fast reflexes, the self-deprecating humour, the rapid analysis—are also tied to the very deep-seeded anxiety. Everything has to be calculated and understood and prepared for, because at some moment a dark curtain is going to fall over the face of a man with my same name. He will smack me so hard I will go flying out of a chair and hit the wall with a soft, sickly whump, a particularly unpleasant of me at seven that I carry sewn into every cell of my skin and fiber of my being. 

I can’t stop and let it sink in because I have internalized the worst calculus of overachiever life—push harder, don’t stop for the good, that’s normal.  Stop only for the bad to learn from it, take in its horror, and let it never happen to you again.  And so I found myself at the end of the semester holding a bag of relative joy like a party favour, looking around anxiously for bullies to come snatch it out of my hands.

And then Jeopardy fucking happened.

I got to be on television. I got to talk to Alex Trebek, the same man who held my grandmother’s hand on Classic Concentration and saw that her for the beautiful, formidable queen that she was. I got to turn silly trivia knowledge into cash—and I got to do it while being me. And to my confusion—people liked me.  It went well, they felt I resonated with something inside of them, and they liked it.

I do not, in my own skill set, have the tools to deal with that.  I am supposed to be clever and fast, and witty, and engaging and lovable—but I do not know how to actually think of receiving goodness.  I know how to process being witty and clever and delightful—I did what I was supposed to do, good job, next—but I don’t know how to actually take that positivity in.

I keep waiting for all of this to fall apart, for everyone to hate me in the reassuring ways that I distrust or marginalize or disbelieve myself.  And yet, I know that’s not helpful.  Hence, overachiever’s therapy: forcing oneself to prematurely trade on prize money and spend a three day love/relaxation retreat, less than fifteen miles from my own apartment.

I woke up and cried a little.  I then tried to mediate or at least focus on the positives of late.  Nope. Nothing came.  I decided it was time for coffee.  I drank some that I made in the Airbnb, but realized I needed to get outside for a walk.  I changed into a bright yellow caftan and an extra-dramatic face mask, and went for a walk on the streets of La Jolla, the bougie and strange bubble by the sea.

La Jolla can double in weird ways like other parts of the world I frequent.  It feels sometimes like I’m in Durban (if you’re more partial to Umhlanga Rocks or Durban North) or Wellington (if you love Mount Vic or Oriental Bay), or even Vancouver (if you feel like West Point Grey or the haughtiest parts of Kitsilano are your thing).  It’s a rich place, one that I don’t belong in, but one that I can feign a few hours of enjoyment and sun.

Today I walked down palm tree lined streets in the perfect weather, the breeze pushing through my still-short hair with a strange urgency.  I picked up a cold brew coffee and a freshly caught and grilled halibut sandwich that my therapist recommended (we decided to briefly be pescatarian for a day and chalked it up to the ‘medical advice.’), then I turned toward the coast.  I sat for a long time looking at the waves—unsurprisingly—with a bit of anxiety. 

What if I relaxed WRONG?  What if I couldn’t let myself feel joy?  What if I just wasted the day by…eating this sandwich and not fully appreciating the beautiful ocean waves, golden sun, or nature all around me.  After a while I realized that sounded ridiculous, and just forced myself to sit.

And as the old Zulu language dance song “Unamanga” by the late Patricia Majalisa started to filter to my headphones, as I stared out at the sea and the sun, something shifted.  I felt something like, I don’t know, a failure in the sealnt around myself, and some drops dripped in, slowly.  Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to do this in a grand gesture.  I could enjoy myself and the small joys I’d found in life so far. 

I could be grateful and quietly glad for the little things that happened.  It wasn’t about deserving it, or about it being worthy of me.  I could imagine for right now, that this was a thing that I could have.  I could sit and marvel that some great shit happened to me, and it was OK.  Let’s not get it twisted—I didn’t have an epiphany, there were no turnbacks on the road to Emmaus.  But I did find a little quietude in my soul for a second and stopped frantically Teflon-ing my heart from joy for a second.

I survived a hell semester, and did well. I got a wonderful opportunity and it went well.  I could just let hat happen and also not ignore that it happened, to focus on negatives in an outsized way.  I could, in this single afternoon moment, be delighted that things had gone okay.  And not worry or strategize about the next disaster, which would happen on its own anyway.  And…that’s all I can do right now.

Also, I’m going to work on this more, this whole letting people love me and letting it sink in.  I usually avoid it because I feel like it keeps me off my game from the inevitable disaster to follow.  But that’s not how I want to live.  I’m going to try to think about what it means that some of you all tell me you love me, and then to show it.  I need to reconcile the nonstop whirligig of my mind also turns menacingly in on itself so often, and that acknowledging the gift of calculated wit and mirth also means I have to cultivate love and joy.

So tomorrow, I’m going to go for a brief run, I’m going to drink some lovely coffee, and I’m going to walk along the ocean again.  (And then I’m going to keep staying in this Airbnb so I don’t catch or spread this plague.)

 

What a fucking semester, y’all.

[zalrb]

Do you think Shonda Rhimes' shows are progressive in terms of race representation and feminism? I was just reading an article that argued that she only seems progressive on the surface but that she acc isnt doing much. Personally I think that she's quite progressive and has kind of paved the way. What about you?

Shonda had this speech about the glass ceiling and how when she got to the ceiling there were these cracks left behind by the Black women before her that allowed her to smash through so I wouldn’t say Shonda paved the way --- we can’t dismiss the successes of women like Yvette Lee Bowser who was the first African American woman to develop her own show (Living Single) or Mara Brock Akil (Girlfriends, The Game) because they paved the way for Shonda. What I will say is that Shonda contributed to that tradition and revitalized the Black Leading Lady --- where, I think Aja Naomi King said that when an actress reads for a show and the person’s race isn’t mentioned you automatically assume she’s white but with the success of Scandal, that assumption isn’t as automatic anymore --- and Shonda produced shows in which Black women onscreen were treated the way white men were treated onscreen and she tapped into fandom culture, she tapped into viewership --- and Kerry Washington was actually the architect of that in the beginning --- and she created a Black female anti-hero with Olivia Pope, which was virtually unheard of, and her umbrella company employs Black female actresses like Viola Davis and Aja Naomi King and Chandra Wilson and Audra McDonald so it’s absolutely not like Shonda didn’t/doesn’t do anything. That’s not accurate. Although every time I’ve seen anything about the writers’ room for Scandal, the writers have been white.

In terms of the content, I can appreciate the even with the success of Scandal, compromises and finagling were still things that had to be done. Grey’s had to be a huge success for Scandal to exist and Scandal had to be a huge success for more Black characters to appear on the show --- with Living Single, for instance, the studio wanted to axe Maxine’s character because she was too unapologetically Black and Yvette had to fight for Max to stay on and then the studio ended up firing TC Carson (Kyle) because he was too outspoken --- so I get that Shonda did at first what, and this is going to sound like a terrible comparison, but what Hertz did with OJ Simpson, which was when they were talking about shooting his commercial, they said they made sure that everyone OJ interacted with in the commercial was white so even though the viewer would obviously know that OJ was Black, because he was interacting with all of these white people, it was like he was “palatable” Black and that’s what Scandal did for a while, sure seeing Kerry Washington looking chic and walking through Washington in commercials was a statement and sure, there was Harrison there in the first few seasons but 99% of the people Olivia interacted with were white and then Papa Pope came in and Shonda is quoted as saying when Papa Pope came in, Blackness came with him.

I’m not really sure how much I agree with that. I think when he has that ‘twice as hard’ speech, it resonated because it’s something Black children hear a lot (as a Black girl I got “three times as hard”) and it fit the scene and it fit the character and it was just so real and you know Maya had a few great lines like when she calls Olivia the help and she thought she was a part of the family and she’s not but it never really goes anywhere, nothing ever comes from any of these self-aware inserts (that in later seasons just become random speeches and to me, anyway, came across as writers trying to appease their viewership) so I don’t think Shonda did anything other than address and there were holes in the show’s own choices.

Like so much of that show is about love and romance and I mean none of it, really, is healthy but all of the what’s supposed to be epic love stories on the show are interracial or white couples --- you know, even when what’s his face, Marcus comes onto the show as the Black activist, he seems to exclusively date white women with the exception of that ridiculous Michaela one night stand --- of course there’s Fitz and Olivia and then Jake and Olivia and then Harrison was supposed to be in love with Adnan or at least had a weird connection to her and then even Olivia’s mother, she never loved Eli but she was meant to have this love affair with Dominic just like how Olivia never loved Edison. Papa Pope calls her out on her fascination with white men but it’s just one line and nothing comes from that, it doesn’t make Olivia take pause, it doesn’t make the writers take pause, it felt like when Mindy Kaling had the episode “Mindy Lahiri is a racist” to kind of poke fun at the idea although less about poking fun in Scandal and more about yeah, we hear you, we’re aware, and then nothing.

There are also no other Black women in this world, not really, for one minute we think she’s going to find someone she can relate to in one of the later seasons and she turns into sexual competition for Fitz? Then there’s the one episode crossover with HTGAWM and that’s kind of it. Even with the clients the gladiators fix, I just remember when the reverend with a whole other family died and the mistress and the wife were duking it out. There was a rotation of Black men but never really of Black women. So I mean, I think Shonda deserves credit for everything she’s done in contemporary television but that doesn’t keep me from being critical of her content.

[goldensfm]

              *    ╰     𝐡𝐢   𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲   𝐥𝐮𝐯𝐬   𝐚𝐧𝐝   𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐠   𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐬    ,   i’m   your   resident   crackhead   steven   forced   out   of   early   writing   retirement   by   miss   rona   but   i   ain’t   complainin   !    🤡    i’m   here   to   bring   you   a   decidedly   non   -   crackheaded   muse   utilizing   the   absolute   goddess   that   is   zendaya   .   like   got   DAMN   𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤   at   her   !   i’m   swimming   with   muse   for   lex   so   i   am   hoping   my   control   freak   ice   queen   offers   some   sort   of   justice   —   i   cant   wait   to   meet   you   all   and   love   you   down   endlessly   !   if   you   could   spare   a   𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭   for   my   validation   ,   i’ll   offer   you   all   my   best   plots   in   return   !   💖

𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕

     ❛   ✶   (   ZENDAYA  ,   CIS   -   FEMALE   ,   SHE   /   HER   )   spotted   !     ALEXANDRIA   ‘   LEX    ’   GOLDMAN   was   spotted   singing   along   to   BOSS   BITCH   by   DOJA   CAT   in   hilton   grove.   you’ve   heard   of   them   right   ?     they   are   a   TWENTY   -   TWO   year   old   ACTRESS   &   ENTREPRENEUR   who   has   already   amassed   a   net   worth   of   $31M.   you   should   really   follow   them   on   insta   @GOLDEN ,   they’re   about   to   hit   39.1M   followers.        the   tabloids   have   been   calling   them   the   EXECUTIVE   because   they   are   known   for   being   +   PURPOSEFUL   but   also   a   bit   -   AUSTERE.  —   ooc   info   (   steven   .   21   .   pst   .   she   / �� her   /   they   /  them   .  )

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒔

full   name   :      alexandria   (   defender   of   man   )   rochelle   (   little   rock   )   goldman   (   little   golden   one   ) nicknames   :       primarily   goes   by   lex   .   lexie   ,   xan   on   occasion   ,   and   gold   /   goldie   . birthday   &      age   :      september   3rd   /   22   years   old zodiac   :      virgo gender   &   pronouns   :      cis  -  female  ,  she   /   her   /   hers orientation   :       openly   bisexual nationality   :      american ethnicity   :       mixed   race   —   african  -  american   ,   german   ,   irish   ,   english   ,   scottish occupation   :       former   beauty   pageant   competitor   and   2016’s   miss   teen   usa   ,   current   film   and   television   actress   ,   model   ,   business   entrepreneur   ,   and   activist   .   recognized   for   :      starring   in   hbo’s   television   series   euphoria   ,   being   the   first   openly   queer   representative   for   the   usa   in   the   pageant   circuit   ,   her   advocacy   for   feminism   and   criminal   justice   reform   ,   a   bustling   social   media   page   ,   being   one   of   forbes   2019′s   top   30   under   30   . char . inspos  :    meredith  grey  from  grey’s  anatomy   ,   spencer   hastings   from   pretty   little   liars   ,   hermione   granger   from   harry   potter   ,   meghan   markle     ,   angela   martin   from   the   office   ,   alex   cabot   from   law   and   order   svu   ,   and   more   than   anything   ,   claire   from   fleabag   .     𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧   𝐢𝐟   𝐮   𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐦   𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞   ,   𝐢   𝐛𝐞𝐠   𝐨𝐟   𝐮   𝐭𝐨   𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡   𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬   𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨   𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭   𝐭𝐨   𝐠𝐞𝐭   𝐥𝐞𝐱’𝐬   𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞   𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝   𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨   𝟑   𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬   . tropes   :   control   freak   ,   defrosting   the   ice   queen   ,   perpetual   frowner   ,   did   you   think   i   can’t   feel   ?   ,   hidden   depths   ,   stepford   smiler   . aesthetics :    an  intellect  that  remembers  everything    ;    wild  caramel  curls  with  just  enough  composure  to  seem  effortless    ;    a  fear  of  failure   more  crippling  than  life  itself    ;    the  smell  of  fresh  linen  and  lavender     ;     a  color - coded  itinerary     ;     a  perfectly  choreographed  interaction  ,  each  time    ;    lilac  power - suits  and  an  immaculate  composure    ;     unspoken  mommy  issues    ;    tenebrous  ,  intent gazes  swimming  with  the  resonance  of  unspoken  thoughts   ;    ‘ don’t  touch  me  please ‘  syndrome    ;    kicking  out  hookups  before  you  both  fall  asleep    ;    ordering  the  same  thing  at  a  restaurant  ,  every  time    ;    flinching  at  ‘ i love you’s ’    ;    drafting  business  emails  at  the  club     ;    an  admiration  of  atlas  ,  with  the  world’s  weight  upon  your   shoulders .

𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

               born   the   sole   continuance   of   the   goldman   name   to   a   mother   whose   pregnancy   was   all   but   a   career   death  -  sentence   ,   lex   bore   the   weight   of   the   world’s   expectations   on   graceful   shoulders   from   the   moment   she   came   into   the   light   .   lieutenant   olivia   goldman   ,   head   of   the   manhattan   police   department   ,   can   deny   the   salacious   accused   affair   with   the   district   attorney   until   she’s   blue   in   the   face   but   can’t   deny   the   consequence   of   their   tryst   ,   alexandria   being   a   painful   reminder   of   losing   nearly   all   her   mother’s   years   of   hard   work   while   her   father   simply   denied   her   existence   and   lived   none   the   more   guilted   .      from   the   start   ,   the   odds   were   stacked   against   the   goldman   progeny   ,      pushing   perfection   as   her   only   claim   to   some   semblance   of   attention   from   liutenant   goldman   .

             as   a   mixed   race   child   to   a   white   unwed   mother   in   law   enforcement   ,   working   80   hours   weeks   and   having   spent   years   building   her   career   ,   there   was   little   lex   saw   of   her   mother   that   wasn’t   something   resembling   exhaustion   or   utter   disinterest   .   this   forces   her   to   grow   independent   at   an   astounding   pace   ,   keeping   to   herself   as   to   not   bother   her   mother   with   her   own   whims   or   desires   .   at   12   ,   her   mother   is   courted   by   an   award   -   winning   director   who   requests   her   guidance   on   a   police   film   he’s   submitting   —   she   refuses   to   advise   on   the   film   ,   but   goes   to   dinner   with   him   as   a   courtesy   ,   and   they’re   married   a   year   later   in   a   lavish   hamptons   wedding   in   the   summer   .   rudy   delano   is   a   world -renowned   director   along   the   likes   of   steven   spielberg   ,   and   takes   to   lex   like   she   were   his   own   daughter   .   as   if   to   balance   out   olivia’s   coldness   and   detachment ,   he   showers   lex   in   adoration   and   support   ,   encouraging   her   to   pursue   her   interests   of   pageantry   when   she   voices   them   following   her   7th   grade   year   .  

              considering   a   lifetime   spent   nitpicking   and   pushing   her   own   facade   of   complete   calculation   ,   she   takes   the   pageantry   world   by   storm   and   it   seems   the   rest   of   her   life   falls   into   place   .   a   perfectionist   in   every   sense   ,   she   maintains   nothing   short   of   flawlessness   throughout   high   school   (   taking   on   student   council   co-president   ,   heading   several   clubs   ,   and   one   of   four   school   valedictorians   )   and   goes   on   to   compete   in   the   most   elite   of   pageantry   circuits   .   her   advocacy   for   marginalized   populations   was   a   major   platform   and   propelled   her   to   miss   teen   new   york   and   soon   after   ,   miss   teen   usa   .   in   the   live   aired   interview   segment   ,   perhaps   among   the   most   important   moments   of   her   life   ,   lex   makes   a   rare   slip   and   accidentally   comes   out   as   bisexual   when   asked   about   the   LGBTQ+   mental   health   crisis   in   her   home   state   of   new   york   .   this   leads   to   lex   becoming   the   first   openly   queer   miss   teen   usa   ,   and   would   have   likely   fared   well   if   she   were   to   have   continued   ;   despite   its   progressions   ,   the   pageant   world   of   sponsorships   seems   to   lag   behind  ,   and   the   ‘   controversy   ’    of   her   coming   out   led   to   her   leaving   the   pageant   world   for   good   .   

              on   her   own   two   wobbly   feet   ,   she   continues   with   her   advocacy   and   finds   herself   excelling   in   the   business   element   of   it   all   ,   going   on   to   obtain   her   business   degree   from   columbia   while   taking   on   the   big   screen   in   a   blossoming   film   career   at   the   encouragement   of   her   step   father   .   she   shoots   to   stardom   upon   the   release   of   euphoria   ,   paired   with   a   strong   social   media   presence   ,   a   thriving   modeling   career   ,   and   a   brand   that   becomes   recognized   as   a   household   name   synonymous   with   advocacy   and   entrepreneurship   .

𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

              perhaps   lex’s   most   notable   quality   is   being   driven   by   an   unyielding   fear   of   failure   and   mediocrity   .   there   is   no   task   small   enough   that   lex   will   not   accomplish   to   the   best   of   her   execution   ,   and   if   she   can’t   ensure   perfection   ,   she   will   refuse   to   give   it   an   attempt   at   all   .   this   all   or   nothing   attitude   stems   from   an   obscene   obsession   with   control   and   remaining   in   control   ,   something   those   around   her   are   all   too   aware   of   .  

              despite   a   rather   charming   and   gregarious   disposition   on   the   red   carpet   ,   many   will   note   that   lex   is   incredibly   reserved   when   meeting   her   in   real   life   .   the   pageantry   training   has   kicked   in   to   give   her   a   facade   to   push   when   she’s   in   the   spotlight   ,   though   her   true   disposition   is   much   less   play   and   much   more   work   .   she’s   stoic   and   serious   ,   knowing   just   what   to   say   at   what   time   to   continue   the   narrative   that   she   is   completely   in   control   .   cool   and   calculated   ,   her   affect   is   usually   stern   and   unwilling   to   reflect   any   sentiment   of   softness   or   goofiness   —   many   business   associates   note   her   absolute   maturity   and   rationality   even   at   the   tender   age   of   22   .   her   energy   ,   as   subdued   as   it   may   be   ,   commands   the   room   with   a   power   of   self-assuredness   that   only   stems   from   a   confidence   rooted   in   something   to   back   it   up   .   she’s   an   elderly   woman   in   a   millennial’s   body   ,   and   this   tends   to   show   in   her   dry   wit   humor   ,   relative   moodiness   ,   and   general   propensity   for   wanting   things   done   exclusively   her   way   .

              lex’s   intellect   has   always   been   a   strong   suit   of   hers   ,   a   photographic   memory   that   allowed   her   to   glide   through   school   with   the   least   of   struggles   .   astute   and   well   -   spoken   ,   monotone   and   unlikely   to   crack   in   her   stony   temperament   ,   she’s   a   force   of   nature   to   be   well   reckoned   with   .   luckily   ,   lex   shows   little   to   no   interest   in   engaging   with   petty   drama   and   tends   to   keep   in   her   own   lane   ,   losing   interest   nearly   immediately   in   the   mindless   pettiness   some   of   her   friends   wrap   themselves   up   in   .   rational   ,   arguably   to   a   fault   ,   lex   has   a   bad   habit   of   censoring   herself   and   limiting   her   own   commentary   when   in   the   company   of   anyone   she   needs   to   maintain   her   reputation   with  ;  close   friends   ,   on   the   other   hand   ,   will   easily   characterize   her   as   blunt   and   straightforward   ,   almost   too   aggressive   with   her   honesty   for   her   own   good   .   though   she’d   rarely   voice   it   ,   she   has   an   undeniable   superiority   complex   stemming   from   a   recognition   that   whatever   she   does   ,   she’s   incredibly   good   at   (   ignoring   her   unwillingness   to   step   out   and   try   anything   outside   her   comfort   zone   .   )

              this   is   the   curious   dichotomy   of   alexandria   goldman   ,   considering   one   of   her   most   notable   flaws   is   her   unwillingness   to   invest   .   despite   being   perhaps   overly   honest   ,   the   moment   a   conversation   (   or   relationship   )   runs   the   risk   of   becoming   too   emotionally   risky   ,   she   shuts   down   .   flames   have   been   ghosted   ,   relationships   have   been   ended   ,   and   friendships   have   been   cut   off   simply   because   lex   deemed   them   to   be   a   danger   to   her   mission   of   remaining   in   complete   control   of   herself   and   her   life   .   the   select   few   that   have   plowed   through   lex’s   rather   prickly   initial   interactions   have   earned   themselves   a   friend   forged   from   gold   ,   loyal   to   a   fault   and   ready   to   drop   anything   at   a   wind’s   blow   to   aide   those   she   loves   most   .   defensive   and   ornery   ,   the   pageant   girl   facade   soon   blows   over   to   reveal   an   anal   retentive   ,   emotionally   stunted   grandmother   who   loses   her   lid   over   the   most   minute   of   inconveniences   if   they   step   out   of   her   pre-established   plans   and   routines   .

              hiding   beneath   her   layers   of   fake   smiling   at   redundant   questions   ,   unapproachable   hostility   and   being   an   otherwise   unmeltable   ice   queen   ,   lex   harbors   a   deep   intensity   that   overcomes   her   when   allowed   to   reign   (   and   very   rarely   is   allowed   to   reign   )   .   she   does   not   invest   in   small   doses   and   despite   the   relative   unlikelihood   of   her   allowing   a   distraction   such   as   a   relationship   ,   the   few   she’s   had   have   been   intense   whirlwinds   led   by   lex’s   own   inability   to   limit   herself   —   she’s   all   ,   or   she’s   nothing   ,   but   nowhere   in   the   middle   .

[bluewatsons]

Ken Dowler, Police Dramas on Television, Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Criminology (2016)

Summary

Since the inception of television, portrayal of crime and justice has been a central feature on television. In particular, the police are featured as prominent characters in many fictional crime programs. Some television cops, such as Joe Friday, Columbo, and Kojak transcend the genre and become enshrined within popular culture. Sometimes referred to as a police procedural, the police drama is a staple of both current and past television programming. In fact, almost 300 police dramas have aired on American network, cable, and syndicated television, with several new shows premiering each year. The vast majority of these shows are short-lived and are largely forgotten. However, some police dramas capture large viewing audiences and/or achieve critical acclaim. Sweeping changes within society have resulted in shifting portrayals of the police on television. Early portrayals focused on a law and order approach, in which the police were moral agents who represented a conservative, pro-establishment point of view. These types of shows represent the so-called “authentic” police drama. The authentic police drama features storylines and characters that engage in somewhat realistic investigative practices and depict relatively common criminal events. The classic example of an authentic police drama is Dragnet, while more recent versions would include shows such as the very popular Law and Order franchise. The 1970s represented the golden age of the police drama, with numerous shows that can be described as gimmicky, with police appearing as super-cops who could singlehandedly fight corruption and achieve justice. Moreover, demographic shifts in the field of policing led to more diversity in media depictions of police, with shows that featured female and African-American characters. In the 1980s, the portrayal of police became even more complex with the appearance of Hill Street Blues, a genre altering show that introduced serialized storylines and characters that were depicted with distinctly human characteristics, with real emotions and flaws. Moreover, the standard law and order approach was challenged, as a more liberal explanation of crime emerged with social inequality as a cause of criminal behavior. Contemporary police dramas, especially shows that appear on network television, tend to focus on a law and order approach. The emergence of cable networks has allowed the police drama to push the limits of television by depicting the police in a more realistic fashion.

The public has a long-standing fascination with crime, law, and justice. Crime is a central feature in news, newsmagazines, documentaries, reality-based shows, and fictional drama. The experiences of police, lawyers, judges, private investigators, medical examiners, correctional workers, criminals, and victims are probed in a variety of television shows. Every year, television executives attempt to find crime and justice programs that capture viewers and enjoy high ratings (Bielby & Bielby, 1994). In particular, the police drama or procedural is a staple of television programming in the United States, and several shows have experienced critical acclaim, large viewing audiences, and longevity. Since 1950, there have been almost 300 police dramas that have appeared on network, cable, and syndicated television (Brooks & Marsh, 2007). This number does not include the large number of shows that focus on other elements of crime and justice, such as detective shows, shows based on lawyers, judges, correctional workers, and criminals. Overall, most of these police dramas were relatively short-lived and have largely been forgotten (Sabin, Wilson, Speidel, Faucette, & Bethell, 2014). Programs that succeed are often imitated, recycled as reboots (i.e., Adam-12, Dragnet, Hawaii Five-O, Hunter, Kojak, The Untouchables), or franchised into spin-offs (CSI, Criminal Minds, Law & Order, and NCIS). As such, the purpose of this essay is to provide a chronological history of the evolution and trends that have made the television cop a mainstream figure within American pop culture.

Setting the Stage: Private Detectives, Mounties, and Cowboys

It is important to place the police drama in historical context. In popular culture, the private detective preceded the police in terms of popular appeal and became an established genre within literary fiction. In 1841, Edgar Allan Poe’s The Murders in the Rue Morgue featured the first fictional detective. While in 1887, arguably the most famous fictional detective, Sherlock Holmes was created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The so-called Golden Age of Detective Fiction took place in the 1920s and 1930s, and featured Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple. Both Holmes’ and Christie’s detectives have been heavily featured in both television and film. In fact, their character traits are often used in both crime and police dramas, especially mysteries. In the late 1930s, American writers reinvented the private eye genre, with “hardboiled” detective novels that encompassed gritty and stylish storylines. This era is best exemplified by Raymond Chandler’s detective, Phillip Marlowe, whose tough, hard-drinking, wise-cracking personality served as an inspiration for many future protagonists in crime dramas, including fictional television police characters (Mizejewski, 2004). Many of these detectives were featured heavily in radio programming, and with the inauguration of network television, the private detective became a mainstay in television programming, which persists to this day (Dunning, 1998).

Conversely, literary figures within the world of policing did not enjoy same level of popularity as private detectives. The 1868 novel, The Moonstone (1868) is considered the first police detective novel in the English language and featured a Scotland Yard detective (Miller, 1988). Yet, the most popular policing characters were historical figures (fictional and non-fictional) from the American West and Canadian North. The American West served as an inspiration for “dime novels,” which were often based on real figures such as Wild Bill Hickok. Nonetheless, the “outlaw” dominated dime novels, and authors such as Zane Grey propelled Western folklore into a thriving genre that dominated American popular culture, eventually entering radio, film, and television (Etulain, 1996; Inciardi & Dee, 1987). Similarly, numerous journalists began to write stories about the North West Mounted Police, who are now known as the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, or RCMP. The Mounties were adventurously depicted as courageous, dashing, and romantic figures who “always got their man.” Internationally recognized, the Mountie has become a national symbol of Canada and has been the basis of novels, magazines, comics, films, and radio programs. The commercialization and popular appeal of the Mountie is demonstrated by the production of more than 250 Hollywood movies (Dawson, 1998). The radio programs were extremely popular, and that popularity carried directly over into television. For example, during the 1950s, the television program, Sergeant Preston of the Yukon was based on the radio program “Challenge of the Yukon” (later changed to “Sergeant Preston of the Yukon”). Arguably, the real star of the show, was Yukon King, Preston’s canine sidekick, an Alaskan husky that inevitably played a heroic role in many episodes. Despite the early appeal, the Mountie did not appear again on network television until Due South was broadcast from 1994 to 1996, on CBS. The main character, RCMP officer Benton Fraser, played by Paul Gross, was assigned to the Canadian consulate in Chicago, where he would inevitably assist his friend Ray Vecchio, who was a stereotypical street-smart Chicago cop. In an ode to Sgt. Preston, one of Constable Fraser’s sidekicks was Diefenbaker, a deaf, lipping-reading pet wolf, which was aptly named after a former Canadian Prime Minister. The show was considered a mix between drama and comedy, as it dealt with absurd plots and stereotypes. However, Constable Fraser was more similar to the cartoon character, Dudley Do-Right, than to the more grizzled Sgt. Preston of the Yukon.

Similarly, the American West became a focal point of early television programs after huge success on both film and radio. From the 1940s to the late 1960s, the Western dominated television programming with such hits as The Lone Ranger, The Rifleman, Have Gun will Travel, Bonanza, Wagon Train, The Big Valley, Maverick, and Rawhide. Although, some Westerns featured law enforcement as leading characters, such as Gunsmoke’s Marshal Dillon, “justice” in the genre was generally achieved through vigilantism by legal outsiders. Legal outsiders were those not acting under the guise of the law, but heroic figures who had a strong moral sense of justice and fairness. In the Western genre, these solitary figures were generally more effective in providing justice than the established legal institutions, which were sometimes presented as corrupt, morally ambivalent, and decadent. The genre would end in late 1960s, amidst complaints from groups claiming that the genre was too violent for television (MacDonald, 1987; Mittell, 2004).

Nonetheless, in the early 1970s, elements of the Western were updated into more modern settings, with such series as Hec Ramsey, Nichols, and McCloud. Created by Jack Webb’s production company, Hec Ramsey (NBC, 1972–1974), starred Richard Boone as a turn-of-the-century gunfighter/lawman who became interested in crime science. Not only did he carry a gun, he also had his handy trunk full of forensics such as fingerprinting equipment, magnifying glasses, and scales that aided in his solving of mysteries. Similarly, actor James Garner played the title character in the television show Nichols (NBC, 1971–1972). Set in Arizona during the 1910s, Nichols served as sheriff and used a motorcycle instead of the standard horse. McCloud (NBC, 1970–1977) became popularized in NBC’s mystery movie rotation, along with Columbo and McMillan and Wife. Dennis Weaver starred as Deputy Marshal Sam McCloud from Taos, New Mexico, who was on temporary assignment to the New York City Police Department. He wore a sheepskin coat, bolo tie, and a cowboy hat. He had a heavy western accent, which was highlighted in every episode with his catch phrase “There you go!” Finally, Cade’s County (CBS, 1971–1972) featured Glen Ford as Sam Cade, a contemporary sheriff operating in a rural area in a South West State (Brooks & Marsh, 2007).

In the 1990s, the western/police genre made a comeback, with Walker, Texas Ranger (CBS, 1993–2001), produced by action star Chuck Norris. Although, not critically acclaimed, the show was highly successfully, lasting for over nine seasons and gathering a “cult” following. Lacking realism, the show had a cartoonish level of violence, with karate as the main tool employed by the old-school and stoic Walker (Brooks & Marsh, 2007). Cable television breathed new life into western/police genre with Peacemakers (USA Network, 2003) and Deadwood (HBO, 2004–2006). Peacemakers lasted only nine episodes and was an attempt to mirror the success of CSI, by combining the Old West with forensic science crime fighting techniques. The critically acclaimed Deadwood told the story of Deadwood, South Dakota. Timothy Olyphant starred as Seth Bullock, a historical figure who was the original sheriff of the town. In the 2010s, western themes within law enforcement were once again introduced with a more modern twist, with Justified (FX Network, 2010–2015) and Longmire (A&E, Netflix, 2012–). Both shows featured lead characters who exhibited Old West lawman characteristics, but the stories were set in the contemporary rural areas of Kentucky and Wyoming, respectively.

The Birth of the Police Drama: The “Dragnet Effect”

Depictions of police did not fully appear until the emergence of Dragnet (NBC, 1951–1959). Like many shows of the era, Dragnet first appeared as a successful radio program before transitioning into the world of television (Dunning, 1998). However, Dragnet was not the first police drama on television; that distinction goes to Stand By For Crime (ABC, 1949–1949). On January 11, 1949, the show was the first program transmitted from Chicago to New York and televised for a national audience. The plot focused on the murderer’s point of view, in which the lead police detective would uncover and analyze the clues. Audiences were than invited to guess of the identity of the killer by phoning the network. The show was not well received nationally and was cancelled later in the year. Also, on October 12th, 1949, the Dumont network presented The Plainclothesman (Dumont, 1949–1954), a straightforward, big-city crime drama that featured an unseen lead character, simply named the Lieutenant. The audience saw the episode through the viewpoint of the Lieutenant, who with his sidekick Sgt. Brady, would solve an assortment of murders (Brooks & Marsh, 2007).

From 1950 to 1951, a handful of shows featuring police officers appeared, including Dick Tracy, Rocky King Inside Detective, Racket Squad, and Crime with Father. Dick Tracy (ABC, 1950–1951) was based on a highly intelligent police detective who was more popularly known from a comic strip before being adapted for a highly successful radio program. The Dumont network produced Rocky King Inside Detective (Dumont, 1950–1954), a low-budget series that featured a hard-working detective in the New York City Homicide division, who simply followed leads and tracked down and arrested suspects, which was a similar premise to Dragnet. Racket Squad (CBS, 1951–1953) was based on actual case records and dealt with confidence rackets rather than street crime and murder. Conversely, Crime with Father (ABC, 1951–1952) involved an improbable plot, in which a homicide detective received help from his daughter in solving crime (Brooks & Marsh, 2007).

Of course, the very nature of the genre changed on December 16, 1951, when NBC broadcast an episode of the original Dragnet series. The primary formula of the show was to entertain as well as to educate and inform. In an effort to offer moral education and social commentary, it was filmed as a pseudo-documentary, with the still-familiar four notes, dun dun dun dun, accompanying the story to punctuate important findings within the narrative. The creator, writer, and lead actor, Jack Webb was obsessed with crafting an accurate and realistic depiction of the working life of police officers. To create a sense of realism, Webb included visual inserts of contemporary Los Angeles, and the characters used authentic police “lingo,” as well as procedure and protocol. Webb was a regular fixture at the Los Angeles Police Department and frequently went on ride-alongs in a quest for knowledge about the police and their work. With stories adapted from the files of the Los Angeles police, the early version of the show made claims for the realism of its depictions, announcing at the start of every episode: “What you are about to see is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.” (Cavender & Fishman, 1998; Lenz, 2003; Mittell, 2004; Sabin, Wilson, Speidel, Faucette, & Bethell, 2014).

Even the most mundane aspects of a police investigation were included in the show, with Friday’s monotone, matter-of-fact voice-overs describing details such as weather, his partner’s name, locations they were visiting, and leads that they were following. The show had a slow and methodical pace and was focused on the ordinary, in both the type of crime and investigative techniques. For example, the crimes range from murder, to petty theft, to forgery. For instance, the episode “The Big Grandma” (S02E09, 01-01-1953) featured an elderly woman passing bad checks, while the plot for “The Big Screen” (S04E22, 01-27-1955) involved a television repairman who was overcharging customers. Yet, it would be a misnomer to suggest that the show was only focused on non-sensational crimes. Murder was a prominent feature of the show, with several episodes that featured homicide investigations. For example, the episode, “The Big Cast” (S01E05, 02-14-1952) focused on the interrogation of a suspect, played by actor Lee Marvin, who ends up being a serial murderer. Yet, even with plots that featured murder, the investigations were non-sensational and unemotional, following leads, asking questions, interrogating suspects, and eventually solving the crimes.

The show had a sharply defined sense of right and wrong. Unlike modern crime drama, there was no blurring of the boundaries between good and evil. The police, based on Webb’s interpretation, were ethical and honorable champions of morality, whose sole purpose was to serve the public and protect the innocent. Sergeant Friday epitomized this ideal by adhering to a strict moral code and did not hesitate to deliver advice about the black and white nature of justice, criminality, and policing. Friday’s efficiency, work habits, and adherence to protocol served as a shining example for the authority and legitimacy of policing. In 1954, Time Magazine put Webb on the cover and wrote a piece, which argued that the American public was now gaining a “new appreciation of the underpaid, long-suffering, ordinary policeman” and gaining a basic “understanding of real-life enforcement” (Anonymous, 1954). Scholars maintain that the show was a propaganda tool that helped legitimize the LAPD and their actions (Lenz, 2003; Sabin et al., 2014; Sharrett, 2012). Controversial LAPD chief William H. Parker benefitted from Webb’s advocacy, and his police force received a steady source of good publicity, notwithstanding the fact that the LAPD faced numerous charges of police brutality, racism, and corruption, which were not addressed on the original version of the show.

Like any successful program, Dragnet spawned numerous imitators, such as The Lineup, (CBS, 1954–1960), Highway Patrol (Syndicated, 1955–1959), State Trooper, (Syndicated, 1956–1959), Harbor Command, (Syndicated, 1957–1959), M-Squad, (NBC, 1957–1960) and Naked City (ABC, 1958–1963). The Lineup was produced in cooperation with the San Francisco Police Department and featured actual cases from the SFPD. Similarly, State Trooper was allegedly based on Nevada state police files. The police in the highly successful Highway Patrol solved crimes within an unidentified Western state’s highway system, while solving crimes on the waterways was the focus of the less successful Harbor Command. The M-Squad starred Lee Marvin as Detective Lieutenant Frank Ballinger of a special unit that tackled violent crime, including organized crime, throughout the city of Chicago (Brooks & Marsh, 2007). Finally, the Naked City was based on the film of the same name and, like Dragnet, was filmed as a quasi-documentary, with the iconic closing line “There are eight million stories in the Naked City. This has been one of them.” Filmed in New York, the series featured fictional detectives from the NYPD’s 65th precinct, and the storylines focused on guest stars who played either victims or criminals (Brooks & Marsh, 2007). The show had a somewhat edgy, gritty realism and was a forerunner to the groundbreaking Hill Street Blues. Although the show was not a ratings success, it was critically acclaimed and eventually became a staple of late-night television reruns (Sabin et al., 2014).

As mentioned early, the Western genre dominated dramatic television in the 1960s. There were only a handful of shows that featured police as central characters and only a few that achieved ratings success. Most of the police dramas of the 1960s were relatively short lived. The early 1960s featured shows such as Man from Interpol (NBC, 1960), 87th Precinct (NBC, 1961–1962), The Asphalt Jungle (ABC, 1961), Cain’s Hundred (NBC, 1961–1962), The New Breed (ABC, 1961–1962), Arrest and Trial (ABC, 1963–1964), and Burke’s Law (ABC, 1963–1966). Arrest and Trial is noteworthy for being the forerunner of the much more successful Law & Order franchise. The first 45 minutes featured a police investigation under direction of Detective Nick Anderson, played by Ben Gazzara, while the last 45 minutes focused on the trial, which pitted Defense Attorney John Egan, played by Chuck Connors, against District Attorney Jerry Miller, played by John Larch. The show was cancelled after only 30 episodes. Yet, the groundbreaking format was revisited almost thirty years later, with the premiere of Law & Order in 1990, which also featured a police investigation followed by a trial (Sabin et al., 2014). Burke’s Law is unique as it diverged away from the Dragnet-inspired authentic police drama that had dominated police dramas. Burke’s Law featured actor Gene Barry as Captain Amos Burke, a Los Angeles chief of detectives. The gimmick was that Burke was a millionaire driven to crime scenes in his Rolls Royce by Henry, his chauffeur. Prior to the third season, the show changed its title to Amos Burke, Secret Agent, as Burke left the police force to become a spy. At this time in the history of pop culture, the secret agent was more palatable for viewing audiences, especially with the popularity of James Bond films and the success of the television shows The Man from U.N.C.L.E., The Avengers, and I Spy (Stark, 1987). Surprisingly, Burke’s Law was reprised in 1994, lasting two seasons and twenty-seven episodes. This time, Burke was back as a police chief, solving crimes with his son and once again being driven around by his chauffer Henry. The show featured numerous guest stars, cheesy dialogue and music, as well as campy storylines (Brooks & Marsh, 2007). In an era, of well-written police dramas such as Law & Order and NYPD Blues, it is not surprising that this show was panned by critics and avoided by audiences.

Nevertheless, the 1960s produced some police dramas that achieved some rating success and longevity, including The Untouchables (ABC, 1959–1963) and The F.B.I. (ABC, 1965–1974). The Untouchables was a historical police drama, focused on the heroic, yet highly fictional exploits of Eliot Ness and his incorruptible treasury agents in their fight against gangsters and organized crime. At the time, it was considered the most violent show on television, with two or three violent shootouts every week. Despite the violence, the show reached number eight in the Nielsen ratings for the 1960–1961 season. Unlike Dragnet, which used real cases for storylines, The Untouchables was not historically accurate. The pilot, which aired as a two-part episode on the Westinghouse Desilu Playhouse, overstated the importance of Ness’s role in the capture and eventual conviction of Al Capone. This is understandable, considering the producers used the self-serving autobiography that Ness had written. In 1932, Capone was convicted for tax evasion, and in 1933 prohibition was repealed, which invariably led to very little “accurate” historical material to use as storylines for the show. As a result, the television version of Ness and his agents became fictional, with storylines that featured major New York based gangsters that Ness had no dealings with, such as Dutch Schultz, Jack “Legs” Diamond, and Lucky Luciano. The episode “Ma Barker and Her Boys” (S01E02, 10-22-1958) upset J. Edgar Hoover, the infamous chief of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, who protested that the FBI should have been given credit for her capture. As a result, the show started issuing disclaimers that certain segments of the show were fictionalized (Sabin et al., 2014; Tucker, 2000).

Hoover was more impressed with The F.B.I., which became the one of few police dramas in the 1960s that enjoyed both rating success and longevity. The show was based on real FBI files and presented the G-Men as emotionless, efficient, and very effective crime-fighters. The Bureau dominated every aspect of this show, from script approval to screening of cast members, to guarantee that that the FBI was always seen in flattering light. Hoover even allowed the FBI headquarters in Washington to be used in background scenes, and some episodes ended with a most wanted segment, hosted by Efrem Zimbalist Jr., who played the lead character, Inspector Lewis Erskine (Powers, 1983). The success of this show may have prompted the revival of Dragnet, which reappeared in 1967 and set the stage for an explosion of shows that featured police as lead characters, albeit in a new, somewhat “hip” direction (Sabin et al., 2014).

The Rebirth of the Police Drama: From Sergeant Friday to Kojak

Dragnet was relaunched in 1966, with Jack Webb producing a television movie pilot that did not air until 1969. Despite the non-airing of the pilot movie, NBC picked up the series as a mid-season replacement and aired it on Thursday nights. Webb originally wanted actor Ben Alexander to reprise the role of Frank Smith, his partner in the original series. However, Alexander was working for ABC on the less successful police drama, Felony Squad (ABC, 1966–1969), which was a standard police drama heavily influenced by the earlier Dragnet. As a result, Harry Morgan was cast as Friday’s equally straight-laced partner, Officer Bill Gannon. Whereas, the original Dragnet reinvented the television cop as a heroic figure, the new Dragnet (NBC, 1967–1970) clearly established Sergeant Joe Friday as an “old square” who was out of touch with the changing values within society. It was renamed, Dragnet 67, but used the identical cinema verite tactics of the original, replete with color and contemporary scenarios (Brooks & Marsh, 2007; Sabin et al., 2014).

Of note, in the new version, Sergeant Friday offered over-the-top moral commentary, from a very clear right wing, pro-establishment, and patriotic point of view (Lenz, 2003; Sharrett, 2012). In the very first episode, “The LSD Story” (S01E01, 01-12-1967), Friday and his partner Gannon, encounter a young man who is high on LSD. The suspect had a painted face, was chewing the bark off a tree, was rambling incoherently about various colors, and called himself the blue boy. On the back of the blue-boy’s shirt read the words “Live and Let Live, Down with the Fuzz.” The back of the shirt was clearly displayed for the audience and provided an obvious tone for the entire series. Sgt. Friday was clearly back, not just to protect citizens from degenerates, but to vociferously defend the actions of the police. In numerous episodes, Friday would engage in long-winded speeches to offer moral clarification and to defend the actions of the police (Sharrett, 2012). For example, the episode, “Public Affairs DR-07” (S03E01, 09-19-1968), was the definitive example of police propaganda. Friday and Gannon appeared on a television panel show, entitled “The Fuzz: Who Needs Them?” and they defended the LAPD against a litany of complaints from every caricature of the 1960s counterculture that Webb despised. As the ultimate apologist, Friday responded to negative comments about the police from a black activist, named Mondo Mabamba, who had the stereotypical afro and dashiki. Unlike Friday, he was confrontational and called the police “honkies” and “Nazis” while making accusations of police brutality against the black community in Watts. The emotionless Friday responded:

I am not here to say that race relations have always been perfect on either side. But things are improving, the Chief of Police is seeing to that, that’s our number one priority. But for police brutality, that’s another story, we try to prevent it in the first place by not hiring brutal men. Only one out of twenty-five who applies for a job in the department ever makes it. We have three men panels, composed of one sergeant and two civilians who pass on every man who wants to go to the academy. One black ball, and that man is out. Occasionally, a bad apple slips through, or a good apple turns bad. Well, my friend, you don’t want him on the job and the department doesn’t want him either. One trigger happy cop making headlines is all it takes to give all police officers a black eye. (“Public Affairs DR-07,” S03E01, 09-19-1968)

Unfortunately, police brutality is not the result of a few “bad apples” and has not disappeared with the passage of time. In fact, police brutality has been an all too real phenomena within many African American communities.

Corresponding with Dragnet’s return, the late 1960s featured long-running series such as Adam-12 (NBC, 1968–1975), Hawaii Five-O (CBS, 1968–1980), and The Mod Squad (ABC, 1968–1973). Adam-12 was created by Jack Webb, and was an attempt to capture the typical day in the life of a patrol officer in Los Angeles. The storylines were based on real cases and ranged from the trivial to the serious. The show portrays police in a positive manner, as professionals who deal with a wide variety of situations, without the smarmy preaching of Jack Webb’s Sgt. Friday. Hawaii Five-O starred Jack Lord as Captain Steve McGarrett, but the show was most well known for it’s location, theme song, ensemble cast, and longevity. At one time, it was the longest running police drama in history, surpassed in 2003 by Law and Order. Hawaii Five-O was not a realistic police drama, and storylines featured action and international intrigue, with many episodes ending with McGarrett’s catch-phrase “Book ‘em, Danno” (Brooks & Marsh, 2007; Sabin et al., 2014; Stark, 1987). In 2010, Hawaii-Five-0 was successfully remade and, like the original, features beautiful settings, action-oriented plots, and predictable storylines.

Conversely, The Mod Squad broke all the rules in conventional television. It featured a “rich” white, former drug-using hippie, an attractive female “flower child,” and an African American who had participated in the Watts Riots. Under the mentorship of an experienced police captain, the unusual trio was offered the opportunity to work as undercover detectives to avoid incarceration (Stark, 1987). The show was loosely based on the experiences of creator Bud Raskin, who was a member of the Los Angeles Sheriffs Department. In 1960, Raskin wrote a script based on his experiences as an undercover narcotics agent on a squad of young police officers. However, the show was not given the green light until the 1968 season, at the height of counterculture movement. In stark contrast to shows like Dragnet 67, the youthful protagonists used slang, such as “solid,” “dig-it,” and “groovy,” and despite its unlikely scenario, the characters exhibited a gritty realism that was “cool.” The show dealt with numerous social issues such as domestic violence, child neglect, racism, anti-Semitism, abortion, and student protest. The Mod Squad attempted to combine counterculture values with the mores of law-abiding conservatives, the so-called, “silent majority.” The producers felt that the Mod Squad could appeal to a divergent audience, as the unconventional “hip” characters were used as a means to an end, to promote effective law enforcement and achieve justice. Although the characters represented a new generation of law enforcers, they did not necessarily endorse a radical departure from the way that television-viewing consumers felt about law and order. There was no political agenda, drugs and sex were still taboo, hippies were depicted as threats to society, and the heroes meted out non-lethal violence only when necessary (Gitlin, 1983; Stark, 1987).

In the 1970s, police drama became a staple on network television, and a string of television shows attempted to take advantage of the police’s new found popularity on television (Sabin et al., 2014; Stark, 1987). Thirty-nine police dramas premiered during the 1970s, of which the vast majority found little success in the ratings and were relatively short-lived (Brooks & Marsh, 2007). In contrast to Dragnet, there were only a few shows that attempted an authentic dramatic interpretation of policing. These shows included O’Hara U.S. Treasury (CBS, 1971–1972), Police Story (NBC, 1973–1977), and The Blue Knight (CBS, 1975–1976). O’Hara, U.S. Treasury was produced with the approval and cooperation of the Department of Treasury, but was not a truly accurate representation of the Treasury department. Joseph Wambaugh was essential in the creation of both Police Story and The Blue Knight. Wambaugh, a best selling author known for fictional and non-fictional books about police work, portrayed police as flawed, and his work encompassed a gritty realism that was lacking in most popular accounts of police officers (Wilson, 2000). As a result, Police Story featured some of the most realistic portrayals of police and their work, including the negatives, such as corruption, brutality, alcohol abuse, adultery, and post-traumatic stress (PTSD) (Gitlin, 1983; Inciardi & Dee, 1987).

The vast majority of the shows that appeared in the 1970s can be characterized as gimmicky, in that they focused either on a “super-cop” or on innovative or unusual scenarios (Inciardi & Dee, 1987). The shows that exhibited a super-cop harken back to the crime fighters of earlier decades, in the Detective and Western genres These super-cops worked as individuals, and their dogged determination and brilliance enabled them to solve crimes in spite of the incompetence of the legal system (Chesebro, 2003; Chesebro & Hamsher, 1974; Surette, 2014). There are several examples of super-cop shows, such as Columbo (NBC, ABC, 1968–1993), Dan August (ABC, 1970–1971), McCloud (NBC, 1970–1971), McMillian and Wife (NBC, 1971–1977), Cades County (CBS, 1971–1972), Jigsaw (ABC, 1972–1973), Madigan (NBC, 1972–1973), Kojak (CBS, 1973–1978), Toma (ABC, 1973–1974), Nakia (ABC, 1974), Baretta (ABC, 1975–1978), Bronk (CBS, 1975–1976), Bert D’Angelo/Superstar (ABC, 1976), Delvecchio (CBS, 1976–1977), Serpico, (NBC, 1976–1977), Quincy, M.E. (1976–1983), Eischied (1979–1983) and Paris (CBS, 1979–1980). In some shows, the super-cops were paired as partners, such as the highly successful Streets of San Francisco (ABC, 1972–1977) and Starsky & Hutch (ABC, 1975–1979).

Peter Falk played the iconic homicide detective Lieutenant Columbo, the quintessential example of a super-cop. In each episode, a guest star would commit a rather clever murder, and the dishevelled Columbo would appear at the crime scene with his trademark trench coat, cigar, and clunky automobile. In direct contrast to the highly intelligent and distinguished murder suspect, Columbo gave the impression of being an incompetent, bumbling fool. In the end, Columbo would always discover the truth with his incredible attention to minute details of the evidence, much to the amazement of the arrogant and smug murderer (Sabin et al., 2014). The show was not broadcast in the standard 60-minute episode format and was included as part of the original NBC Mystery Movie, with McCloud and McMillan & Wife. McCloud, as described earlier, was a cowboy cop, transplanted to New York City, while McMillan and Wife featured actor Rock Hudson as the suave San Francisco Police Commissioner whose homicide investigations were assisted by his beautiful and charming wife, played by Susan Saint James. These series were highly entertaining, involved humor, and showed that the police were more effective without the constraints of police bureaucracy (Inciardi & Dee, 1987; Sabin et al., 2014; Stark, 1987). Of course, these types of programs are not intended to be authentic and are created as mysteries, which provide the audiences with an escape from real world crime and social ills.

In contrast, the 1970s also featured police dramas that exposed the changing landscape of crime in America. During the 1970s, crime rates in large cities soared, which not only increased fear of crime, but also led some residents to flee the cities for the suburbs, leaving only the poorest behind. The viewing audience was now exposed to violence that permeated the urban environment. In the past, the villains did not threaten the audience, as they often had clear motives for their criminal behavior. The “new criminal that appeared in the 1970s was increasingly dangerous, unpredictable, and violent. They were often violent madmen or urban delinquents with no stake in society. More nefariously, the justice system was portrayed as both ineffective and bureaucratic, with seemingly more rights afforded to criminals than law-abiding citizens. As such, the crime fighter had to be tougher, more violent, more unyielding, and more obsessed with the capture of criminals, than his television precursor (Stark, 1987; Surette, 2014). Certainly, Detective Lieutenant Theo Kojak of New York City Police Department fit the description. Actor Telly Savalas portrayed Kojak, with his trademark lollipop and catch-phrase, “Who loves you, baby?” Kojak had a cynical sense of humor, bent some rules, and was outspoken and streetwise. He was described by critics as a “one-man institution” who fought both criminals and political bureaucracy (Sabin et al., 2014; Stark, 1987).The success of Kojak led to a surge of police dramas with more dark and violent themes. Toma and Serpico were both based on real life cops and were portrayed as heroic loners who went undercover to fight organized crime and systemic corruption. After lead actor Tony Musante left Toma, his character was recast with Robert Blake, and the show was renamed Baretta (Brooks & Marsh, 2007).

Several shows in 1970s featured innovative or unusual scenarios. The majority of these shows were unsuccessful, as they attempted to secure audiences with a gimmick. For instance, some police dramas attempted to parlay the success of Hawaii Five-O, by featuring exotic or unusual locations such as the Caribbean (Caribe: ABC, 1975) and Alaska (Kodiak: ABC, 1974). Other shows featured lead characters who were atypical of the genre, including African American (The Protectors: NBC, 1969–1970; The Rookies: ABC, 1972–1976; Get Christy Love: ABC, 1974–1975) and female characters (Police Woman: NBC, 1974–1978; Amy Prentiss: NBC, 1973–1975; Get Christie Love: ABC, 1974–1975; Dear Detective: CBS, 1979) (Brooks & Marsh, 2007). As the result of federal legislation, greater numbers of women started entering the field of policing in 1960s and 1970s. Unfortunately, many of these female officers were assigned specialized duties, such as clerical or vice squad, where they went undercover to pose as prostitutes. Early police programs reflect this reality, as there were very few female police officers on television. One exception was the syndicated television series, Decoy (1957–1958), which starred Beverly Garland as Casey Jones, a female undercover officer who solved crime. In the 1960s, Peggy Lipton starred as Julia Barnes as an undercover cop in The Mod Squad. In the 1970s, female officers became more routine on television shows, appearing in small roles or as extras in programs such as Adam 12. On March 26, 1974, Police Story premiered an episode entitled “The Gamble,” which featured actress Angie Dickenson as an undercover vice officer named Lisa Beaumont. This episode served as the pilot for Police Woman, and Dickenson’s character was subsequently renamed “Pepper” Anderson. Although, Police Woman was initially a ratings success, other police dramas that featured female leads did not fare as well in the 1970s. A spin-off of Ironside, Amy Prentiss lasted only three episodes before being canceled. The show starred actress Jessica Walters, as a young investigator who became the first female Chief of Detectives for the San Francisco Police Department. Get Christy Love lasted only one season, but was noteworthy, as it was the first show to feature an African-American female as the lead character. Finally, Dear Detective lasted only four episodes and was focused on a female police officer who juggled her career, marriage, and motherhood (Brooks & Marsh, 2007; Cavender & Jurik, 2012; D’Acci, 1994; Evans & Davies, 2014; Stark, 1987).

As opposed to unique gender or racial backgrounds of the lead character(s), other police dramas focused on pioneering police strategies, such as elite units (The Silent Force: ABC, 1970–1971; Chase: NBC, 1973–1974; S.W.A.T.: ABC, 1975–1976; Most Wanted: ABC, 1976–1977). For example, Chase featured four cops who each had special skills, including a dog handler, helicopter pilot, hot-rod car driver, and an expert motorcycle rider. Similarly, other shows featured new technology, such as helicopters (Chopper One: ABC, 1974) and motorcycles (CHiPs: NBC, 1977–1983). Finally, some shows were simply unusual. A former teen heartthrob was cast as an undercover police officer in David Cassidy: Man Undercover (NBC, 1978–1979), while Lanigan’s Rabbi featured a rabbi who was an amateur criminologist who assisted the Chief of police (played by Art Carney) in homicide investigations. Sam (CBS, 1978) starred Mark Harmon as a police officer who was teamed with a yellow Labrador retriever. Harmon became more well known for his role in the more popular NCIS (Brooks & Marsh, 2007).

Revolutionizing Network Television: Policing the “Hill”

The formula for using unusual scenarios or gimmicks carried over to the 1980s. During the 1980s, 42 police dramas premiered, and many were doomed, as they featured absurd circumstances, characters, and/or storylines. At the beginning of the 1980–1981 television season, it appeared that police drama had fizzled to an acrimonious end. Only two popular dramas from the 1970s still appeared on the air, Quincy M.E. and CHiPS. The title character, Quincy, was not even a police officer; actor Jack Klugman played a medical examiner who solved crimes. Although, formulaic, “Quince” appealed to audiences with his stubborn, yet righteous personality. CHiPS, a very popular series, is better described as a melodrama, with a focus on light drama, corny comedy, and action. Many of the plots were tacky and often resulted in the lead characters, Ponch and Jon Baker, engaging in a police chase that invariably ended with a spectacular stunt vehicle crash. New series that premiered in 1980 left little optimism for an evolution of the genre. For example, B.A.D. Cats (ABC, 1980) featured two ex-racing drivers tracking down criminals in a souped-up Nova, as special officers in the Los Angeles Police Department. Stone (ABC, 1980) was an attempt to capitalize on Dennis Weaver’s fame as McCloud. In this very short-lived series, Weaver played Detective Sergeant Daniel , a celebrity cop who doubled as a best-selling novelist. Freebie and the Bean (CBS, 1980–1981) was the only new police drama to premiere in the fall of the strike impacted 1980–1981 season. The show, based on the 1974 film of the same name, can be best exemplified as a “buddy cop” show, but it was ill-conceived as a mixture of comedy, drama, slapstick, and reality (Brooks & Marsh, 2007).

Yet, one police drama forever changed the genre, with an ensemble cast and recurrent storylines. Hill Street Blues (NBC, 1981–1987) not only revolutionized the police drama but television drama as well (Gitlin, 1983; Lenz, 2003; Rapping, 2003). The show debuted on January 15, 1981, receiving rave reviews from critics, but did not immediately capture large audiences until it won a record number of Primetime Emmy awards later in the year. At the time, the show was ground breaking, as it featured an ensemble cast and serialized storylines. In the first season, the show included 13 actors in the main credits, of which 11 were police officers with different ranks. In some episodes, there were up to five or six plotlines, interwoven throughout the episode. These plotlines were often serialized, with some appearing from week to week. Conversely, previous police dramas were primarily episodic, in that they presented a different plot with each episode (Sabin et al., 2014).

In the early seasons of the show, the beginning of each episode would start with roll call in the Hill Station, in which Desk Sergeant Phil Esterhaus would exclaim, “And hey, let’s be careful out there.” Symbolically, this ominous statement foreshadowed the grim reality that many of the officers would face on a daily basis on the harsh streets within the precinct. The show had a documentary feel, with seedy characters living in a poverty-stricken, unnamed, large metropolitan city. The characters were flawed and distinctly human, revealing both emotion and vulnerability. Some of the officers exhibited racist, sexist, and homophobic tendencies. Some had interpersonal issues, such as alcohol and drug addiction, extramarital affairs, and financial problems. There was a clash between the officers over policing philosophies: Sgt. Lt. Howard Hunter favored the more of a law and order approach, while Sgt. Henry Goldblume preferred social work and community outreach programs. Police morality was blurred in this show, as the viewer was exposed to corruption, brutality, and bureaucracy within the police force. At the height of the conservative Reagan era, the show attempted to express an alternative liberal explanation of crime, that crime is a consequence of systemic inequality, racism, and poverty. Unfortunately, as the series progressed, it became more “soap opera-ish” and lost its audience. Yet, to its credit, the show inspired a new generation of television dramas and transformed the representation of the television cop (Gitlin, 1983; Lenz, 2003; Sabin et al., 2014; Zynda, 1986).

In addition to Hill Street Blues, a number of successful police dramas originated during the decade. Several shows produced more than 100 episodes, including Cagney & Lacey (CBS, 1982–1988), Hunter (NBC, 1984–1991), Miami Vice (NBC, 1984–1989), 21 Jump Street (Fox, 1987–1990), and In the Heat of the Night (NBC/CBS, 1988–1994) (Brooks & Marsh, 2007). Cagney & Lacey was atypical; it was a buddy-cop drama that featured two female leads. Inspired by the feminist movement, the show had been proposed in 1974, but had been turned down by all networks until a television movie appeared in 1981. The movie was a ratings success, and a limited-run series was announced with Meg Foster replacing Loretta Swit as Christine Cagney, while Tyne Dale continued her role as Mary Beth Lacy. The ratings were poor in the first abbreviated season, and executives replaced Foster with Sharon Gless, who they believed would enhance the femininity of the character, as well as tone down the perceived “lesbian” qualities (i.e., aggressiveness, tough, witty, etc.) that the original Cagney exhibited. In spite of the changes, the second season featuring Gless and Daly was a ratings disaster, and the series was cancelled. Fans of the show started a letter writing campaign, and the show eventually returned as a mid-season replacement during the third season, in which it finally cracked the top 30 in the Nielsen ratings. The detectives not only solved crime, they dealt with male chauvinism and the difficulty of maintaining a work-life balance. Although, they were not the first female cops on television, they set the standard for future female cops on television (D’Acci, 1994; Nichols-Pethick, 2012; Sabin et al., 2014). Currently, female cops are plentiful on police dramas, in leading and supporting roles. Typically, they are ingrained in multi-cast scenarios in which they work seamlessly with male colleagues (Evans & Davies, 2014). Unfortunately, the vast majority of these dramas ignore the reality of sexism that is imbedded in the field of policing (Rabe-Hemp, 2011).

Unlike Cagney & Lacey, Hunter was decidedly masculine in nature, with former NFL player Fred Dryer playing Sgt. Rick Hunter. The character was clearly inspired by the popularity of the Dirty Harry franchise. Toned down for television audiences, Hunter used catch-phrases, such as “works for me” and carried a large gun that he called “Simon.” Unlike Dirty Harry, Hunter had a beautiful, yet tough, female partner named Dee Dee, played by Stepfanie Kramer. Despite numerous clichés, the show gained an audience and was the longest running police drama that originated in the 1980s. The show was rebooted in 2003, with both Dryer and Kramer, but lasted only three episodes before being cancelled (Brooks & Marsh, 2007).

Miami Vice is, arguably, the television show that best reflected 1980s. The show was both gritty and glamorous, with “hip” musical scores, cutting edge fashions, and visually appealing sets, characters, and locations. The lead characters, Crockett and Tubbs, epitomized “cool” and worked undercover to capture drug dealers and pimps. Despite the show’s importance to pop culture, it did not redefine the police genre, as it was basically an action series with standard police clichés and unrealistic storylines (Sabin et al., 2014; Sanders, 2010). In a similar vein, 21 Jump Street was the first major hit for the newly minted Fox network and launched the career of Johnny Depp. The show featured young undercover cops who could pass as teenagers and infiltrate high schools. The program also included numerous messages about youth and morality, with early episodes including public service announcements made by cast members after episodes had aired (Brooks & Marsh, 2007).

“Ripped from the Headlines”: Law & Order Reigns

The 1990s introduced at least 51 new police dramas but most achieved little success. Some of the least popular shows were ridiculous, such as Cop Rock (ABC, 1990), which was a cop musical, and The Hat Squad (CBS, 1992–1993), which featured retro-cool cops who wore unique hats. Sunset Beat (ABC, 1990) was a rip-off of 21 Jump Street and starred George Clooney as Chic Chesbro, a young scruffy cop with long hair and an attitude to match. Chesbro played lead guitar in a rock band and went undercover to infiltrate a tough biker gang. Some shows had success with the buddy cop formula (New York Undercover, FOX, 1994–1998; Nash Bridges, CBS, 1996–2001), humor (The Commish: ABC, 1991–1996; Due South: CBS, 1994–1995; Martial Law: CBS, 1998–2000), sex (Silk Stalkings: CBS, USA Network, 1991–1999), science fiction (X-Files: FOX, 1993–2002), and even action that revolved around a bike patrol on a beach (Pacific Blue: USA Network, 1996–2000) (Brooks & Marsh, 2007).

Without a doubt, any discussion of the police drama in 1990s can only begin with an examination of Law and Order (NBC, 1990–2010), N.Y.P.D. Blue (ABC, 1993–2005), and Homicide: Life on the Streets (NBC, 1993–1999) (Sabin et al., 2014). Law & Order follows the activities of a recurring cast of police and prosecuting attorneys. Episodes follow a similar structure, the police investigate a crime, make an arrest, followed by a trial in which the prosecution attempts to secure a conviction. Each episodes starts with the narration, “In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate, yet equally important groups: The police who investigate crime and the District Attorneys who prosecute the offenders. These are their stories,” preceded by a very distinct musical effect, described as a clang that symbolizes a judge’s gavel. Like Hill Street Blues, the show features an ensemble cast, but unlike Hill Street Blues, the show rarely delves into the private lives of the characters nor does it explore the broad social conditions that contribute to criminal behavior. In fact, many of the plots are borrowed from notorious real life cases and, true to actual cases, sometimes the defense wins, as either the cops do not have enough evidence to warrant a conviction or the wrong suspect is arrested. As such, this makes for interesting television, as the viewing audience cannot predict the outcome of the cases. The show does not break new ground, as it was based on a concept first developed in the 1950s series Arrest and Trial. However, the popularity of the show has been unmatched, at it spawned several spin-offs, which included: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit (NBC, 1999–), Law & Order: Criminal Intent (NBC, USA Network, 2001–2011), Law & Order: Trial by Jury (NBC, 2005–2006) and Law & Order: LA (NBC, 2010–2011). Despite the success, some media scholars have argued that the show reinforced the status quo, represented conservative morals, and signified an ideological shift toward “law and order” or the crime control model (Lenz, 2003; Nichols-Pethick, 2012; Sabin et al., 2014).

Alternatively, N.Y.P.D. Blue (ABC, 1993–2005) was modeled after a formula first employed by Hill Street Blues. It featured characters who were deeply flawed and isolated from mainstream society. The police officers on the show had tortured private lives, plagued with such difficulties as alcoholism, strained inter-personal relationships, single-parenthood, suicide, and health-related issues. Their professional lives were also scrutinized, as they investigated a variety of criminals and crimes, which sometimes led to a blurring of the lines between right and wrong. Initially, the show was heavily criticized for its use of mild profanity and nudity, which at that time was unseen on network television (Lenz, 2003; Sabin et al., 2014).

Similarly, Homicide: Life on the Street (NBC, 1993–1999) chronicled the work of the Baltimore Police Department Homicide Unit. Albeit fictional, the show was based on reporter David Simon’s book Homicide: A Year on the Killing Streets (Boston: Houghton Mifflin), which was published in 1991. The intent of the show was to furnish a blunt and uncompromising view of inner-city detectives in Baltimore. Unlike the glitzy and flashy detectives who permeated television and glorified homicide investigations, this show offered a depressing, yet authentic view of police work. The show intertwined several homicides into single episodes, which portrayed murder investigations as rather routine, tedious, and monotonous. Cynicism abounding, it appeared that clearance rates were more important than achieving actual justice (Sabin et al., 2014). In some episodes, the mystery was not solved, and justice was never achieved. For example, the episode “Three Men and Adena” (S01E05, 03-03-1993) focused on the investigation of an 11-year-old girl named Adena Watson. Despite an intense interrogation of an elderly suspect, the case remained an open investigation never to be solved. The show earned the respect of critics, who enjoyed the gritty realism and serialized plot lines. However, the ratings were low, and for the most part, viewers avoided the show. Interestingly, in 1996, TV Guide named the series “the best show you’re not watching” (Lane, 2001).

Forensics, Pseudo-Science and Crime: From CSI to Criminal Minds

At the start of the millennium, the police drama had been firmly entrenched in the television landscape. Since the year 2000, there have been over 100 police dramas produced, with several achieving both ratings success and longevity. Some of the more popular dramas featured lead characters who consult the police to solve crimes, such as a former-psychic (The Mentalist: CBS, 2005–2015) and a best-selling mystery novelist (Castle: ABC, 2009–). Others involved specialized units that search for missing persons (Without a Trace: CBS, 2002–2009), solve unsolved older cases (Cold Case: CBS, 2003–2010), and focus on an interrogation expert (The Closer: TNT, 2005–2012). Similarly, NCIS (CBS, 2003–) revolves around the fictional team of special agents in the Naval Intelligence Investigative Service who engage in counterintelligence and law enforcement within the Department of Navy and United States Marine Corps. The show has resulted into two spin-offs, NCIS: Los Angeles (CBS, 2009–) and NCIS: New Orleans (CBS, 2014–), Finally, Blue Bloods (CBS, 2010–) follows a family of police officers in the New York City Police Department. The show stars Tom Selleck as Police Commissioner Frank Reagan, whose father was the former police commissioner. Reagan has three children who work within the system, his two sons work in the police department as a detective and a patrol officer, while his daughter is an assistant district attorney. The signature of the series is the Sunday dinner scene, in which the family will discuss difficult issues around morality, policing, and life.

Unquestionably, the biggest development within the genre was the emergence of CSI, which premiered on October 6, 2000. CSI: Crime Scene Investigation (CBS, 2000–2015) started a wave of shows that focused on crime science and technology. CSI was set in Las Vegas and starred William Peterson as Gil Grissom, a forensics officer working in the Criminalistics Bureau. Employing advanced scientific techniques to analyze crime scenes, his team of experts used physical evidence to solve violent murders. Like the stylish Miami Vice, the show used music to set the tone and add an element of coolness, to the otherwise “boring” premise of scientists solving crime. The show was heavily criticized by parent groups because of its depiction of graphic violence, images, and sexual content (Sabin et al., 2014).

The show has also been criticized for its lack of realism in the depiction of police procedure. The characters process crime scenes, interrogate suspects, interview witnesses, conduct raids, participate in suspect pursuits and arrests, and eventually solve the crime. Of course, real life forensic technicians do not conduct investigations, as it would be too time-consuming and more importantly, it would be unethical to engage in the investigation, especially the testing of evidence, as it would jeopardize the impartiality and neutrality of the case. Also, some critics allege a so-called CSI effect, in which people have misguided beliefs and expectations about forensic science. For example, some investigators lament that victims and their families expect instantaneous DNA analysis and forensic analysis, which is not possible. Similarly, some prosecutors complain that jurors demand more forensic evidence, which inhibits their ability to successfully win convictions. However, there is little empirical evidence that the CSI effect actually exists, and it may be only an urban myth (Cavender & Jurik, 2012; Robbers, 2008).

Despite the criticisms of the show, it was an instant success amongst audiences, ranking in the top ten of the Nielsen ratings in its first 11 seasons. The success of the show led to three spin-offs, comic books, video games, novels, and even a travelling museum called CSI: The Experience. The spin-offs included the equally violent and stylish CSI: Miami (CBS, 2002–2012), CSI: New York (CBS, 2004–2013), and CSI: Cyber (CBS, 2015–). More importantly, the show spawned a new genre of police drama, involving crimes solved with scientific methods. In a premise similar to Quincy M.E., Jill Hennessy played Jordan Cavanaugh, a forensic pathologist who sometimes used criminal profiling to solve murders in the crime drama Crossing Jordan (NBC, 2001–2007). Although, Cavanaugh was not a police officer, she worked closely with detectives in solving crimes. Likewise, Bones (2005–) partners a forensic anthropologist, Dr. Temperance “Bones” Brennan, with FBI agent Seeley Booth to investigate and solve various murder mysteries. NUMB3RS (CBS, 2005–2010) added a new twist, as a brilliant mathematician used mathematical models to assist his brother, an FBI agent, to solve various crimes. Finally, Criminal Minds (CBS, 2005–2016) was loosely based on the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU) in Quantico. Virginia. The series featured a team of experts who use criminal profiling to capture a myriad of killers, mostly serial. The show generally begins with an “unsub” or unknown subject partaking in a particularly sensational, bizarre, or monstrous killing. The elite team of criminal profilers are brought in to provide a psychological profile of the killer, and episodes usually end with the dramatic capture of the “unsub” and the rescue of the victim. The show is bursting with clichés and is both unrealistic and improbable. Criminal profiling is pseudo-science with little empirical validity. In fact, most forensic psychologists would argue that profiling is more theoretical than scientific. Lack of realism aside, the show is very entertaining and, like the mystery genre, fans of the show love to watch the “new-age” sleuths crack seemingly unsolvable crimes. Criminal Minds has also been criticized for its graphic portrayal of gore and violence. The former lead actor, Mandy Patinkin claimed that “his biggest public mistake” was starring in the show, as he was upset with the gratuitous amount of violence. In an interview, he stated “I never thought they were going to kill and rape all these women every night, every day, week after week, year after year” (Gennis, 2012).

Moral Ambiguity and Cable’s Re-Invention of “TV” Cop

Crime programs such as The Sopranos, Breaking Bad, and Dexter, featured on premium cable networks, set a new standard, which traditional television network programs have had a difficult time meeting. These programs feature exceptional writing, fascinating characters, and high production values. Depictions of violence are more explicit and the dialogue more authentic. There are no commercial breaks to interrupt the story, and characters are even allowed to swear. Subscription-based cable networks altered the television experience of viewers and ushered in a new age of television. In this new age, the television cop was reinvented, and the police procedural evolved beyond standard clichés and simplistic plotlines (Martin, 2013).

A number of exceptional police dramas have appeared on subscription-cable television networks, such as Justified (FX Network, 2010–2015), Fargo (FX Network, 2014–), and True Detective (2014–). However, in terms of socio-cultural influence and importance, The Shield and The Wire might very well be the most groundbreaking police dramas in television history. Set in Los Angeles, The Shield (FX Network, 2002–2008) is about a four-man anti-gang unit called the Strike Team. The Strike Team is led by the corrupt Detective Vic Mackey, aptly played by actor Michael Chiklis. Chiklis was a curious choice for the role, as he was best known for playing the lovable police commissioner, Tony Scali, in the light-hearted police drama, The Commish (ABC, 1991–1996). Yet Chiklis brought the Mackey character to life with vivid brutality, charisma, narcissism, and selfishness. The show was the first police drama to feature a lead crime fighter as a villain. Although he was more than just a villain; his character was more complex and multi-faceted than a typical television villain. With HBO’s The Sopranos, the character of Tony Soprano ushered in a new wave of anti-heroes in crime dramas, leading the way for classic television characters such as Walter White (Breaking Bad), Dexter Morgan (Dexter), Jax Teller (Sons of Anarchy), and Nucky Thompson (Boardwalk Empire) (Vaage, 2015). Mackey, of The Shield, truly believed that his immoral actions were a means to an end. He routinely beat suspects, stole from drug dealers, engaged in blackmail, and even killed. In a classic scene, during an interrogation, he beat and tortured a suspected pedophile with phone book to gain a confession, which ended up saving a young girls life. Arguably, his character is the most despicable anti-hero in television history, because as a police officer he represented authority and morality. Prior to Mackey’s appearance on television, lead police characters may have been flawed, but they definitely were not murderers and thieves. As such, the moral ambiguousness of the show’s main character enabled viewers to experience a variety of emotions, sentiments, and opinions about police and their work (Chopra-Gant, 2007; Mittell, 2015; Sabin et al., 2014).

Whereas The Shield’s main emphasis was on the anti-hero, The Wire (HBO, 2002–2008) highlighted a city in decay. The Wire centered on Baltimore’s inner-city drug trade and depicted the lives of junkies, dealers, cops, and politicians. The show featured an ensemble cast and a serialized format, in which various social problems and institutions were examined. The show was applauded for its authentic portrayal of urban life and the inner workings of police bureaucracy. It exposed audiences to the “political” nature of crime clearance rates, the economy of the drug trade, and the struggles of inner-city residents. As a police procedural, it was atypical, the police did not solve crimes on a weekly basis, nor was the path to the “bad guy” easily attained with heroic police work. The police struggled to make cases, as they had difficulty navigating police bureaucracy, politics, and egos. The criminal justice system was presented as a complex, yet imperfect system, with clear linkages to social institutions and individuals. The police, the judges, the lawyers, the politicians, the criminals, and even the junkies were depicted as human beings with good, bad, and ambivalent traits (Brody & Collins, 2013; Bruhn & Gjelsvik, 2013).

The Wire is arguably the most critically acclaimed show in television history and has been favorably compared to great literature such as the works of Dickens and Dostoevsky. In fact, David Simon, the co-creator of the show, claimed that it was structured like a “visual novel,” arguing that storylines had to be “difficult,” to avoid formulaic plots and clichéd characters (Alvarez & Simon, 2009, p. 23). Yet the show received dismal ratings, achieving only four million viewers per episode. Fortunately, the show was produced by HBO, which is not beholden to advertisers or preoccupied with huge prime-time ratings. Nevertheless, prior to the fourth season, the show narrowly escaped cancellation after Simon pitched the upcoming storylines to an HBO executive. The executive was so enthralled that he renewed the series for two more seasons (Alvarez & Simon, 2009).

This was most fortunate, as The Wire was a pioneering program unlike any program ever produced for the small screen. Its central character was not a police officer, lawyer, or criminal, but a city portrayed through the stories and experiences of dozens of complex characters. Each season intertwined a police investigation, involving high-tech surveillance and wires, with the focus on a different facet of the city, including the drug-addled housing projects, disintegrating port system, decaying public schools, corrupt political administration, and the declining newspaper industry. One of the strengths of the show was its authenticity, as some of the plots were loosely based on real stories and events. The creators of the show had life experience within the city. David Simon had worked as a police reporter for the Baltimore Sun, while Ed Burns, a former cop, had worked in the Baltimore homicide division. The negative portrayal of Baltimore even spurred former Mayor Martin O’Malley to complain about the show’s depiction of the city and the police department. The show was intentionally dark, complex, and hard to watch. The characters’ use of “street” language was raw and graphic, but also realistic. Like a good novel, the plots were purposefully slow moving, but viewers who stuck with the show were rewarded with pure brilliance (Sabin et al., 2014). In fact, the academic world has taken notice of the show, with conference presentations, academic papers, books, and even college courses devoted to various aspects of the show (Alvarez & Simon, 2009; Brody & Collins, 2013).

The More Things Change: The More They Stay the Same

This article has attempted to provide a historical overview of the police drama as produced on television in the United States. It is clear that the genre has changed immeasurably over the last 70 years. The characters have become more complex and diverse, the violence more explicit and grisly, the special effects more realistic and visually stunning, and the cinematography and sound effects more spectacular. Yet, despite all the changes, some elements of the police drama have remained the same. Viewers still enjoy mysteries, action, and bravery. They feel sympathy for victims, crave justice, root for heroes, and despise villains. The police drama still relies on music to provide ambiance, and catch phrases continue to help define the characters. Most importantly, the police drama continues to captivate audiences and as such, remains a staple of television programming.

Further Reading

Cavender, G., & Jurik, N. (2012). Justice provocateur: Jane Tennison and policing in Prime Suspect. Chicago: University of Illinois Press

Collins, P. A., & Brody, D. C. (Eds.). (2013). Crime & justice in the city: As seen through The Wire. Durham, NC: Carolina Academic Press.

Lenz, T. O. (2003). Changing images of law in film and television crime stories. New York: Peter Lang Publishing.

Nichols-Pethick, J. (2012). TV cops: The contemporary American television police drama. New York: Routledge.

Reiner, R. (2010). The politics of police (4th ed.). New York: Oxford University Press.

Sabin, R., Wilson, R., Speidel, L., Faucette, B., & Bethell, B. (2014). Cop shows: A critical history of police dramas on television. Jefferson, NC: McFarland.

Stark, S. D. (1987). Perry Mason meets Sonny Crockett: The history of lawyers and the police as television heroes. University of Miami Law Review, 42, 229–283.

Wilson, C. P. (2000). Cop knowledge: Police power and cultural narrative in twentieth-century America. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

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