Chuck Adamson – Through the Shattered Lens

Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Mondays, I will be reviewing Crime Story, which ran on NBC from 1986 to 1988. The entire show can be found on Tubi!

Today, we start the second season of Crime Story!

Episode 2.1 “The Senator, The Movie Star, and the Mob”

(Dir by John Nicolella, originally aired on September 22nd, 1987)

The second season of Crime Story opens with Torello, Abrams, and the Task Force still in Las Vegas. With Luca and Pauli apparently dead as a result of that nuclear blast at the end of the first season, various gangsters are trying to position themselves as Manny Weisbord’s new man in Vegas. Carlo Mastrangelo (Stephen McHattie) is the latest contender.

(And yet, it’s hard not to notice that, during the opening credits, both Tony Denison and John Santucci are listed. Neither appears in this episode other than in the pictures displayed at their funeral. But the credits don’t seem quite convinced that Luca and Pauli are dead.)

Crusading Senator Rourke (Kevin Spacey, in his first major television role) comes to Vegas. Rourke—the son of a former bootlegger and a presidential contender who speaks with a slightly abrasive Boston accent—is holding hearings on the Mob. Also arriving in Vegas is Pamela Palmer (Jenny Wright), a platinum-blonde movie star known for her glamorous sex appeal but who spends almost the entire episode hiding a black eye behind her sunglasses. As Torello discovers, Pamela is Mastrangelo’s occasional girlfriend, but she’s also having an affair with Senator Rourke.

Anyone who has studied history or who has an interest in conspiracy theories will be able to see the obvious real-world parallels. Rourke, with his bootlegger father and his less-than-ideal private life, is an obvious stand-in for both John and Robert F. Kennedy. (Of course, when seen today, the casting of Kevin Spacey in the role brings a whole other dimension to it. Now we instinctively distrust Rourke as soon as we see him, despite the fact that the show portrays him as sincere in his crusade against the Mob.) Pamela is Marilyn Monroe. Mastrangelo and his second-in-command Bobby Meeker (Michael Wincott) bring to mind Sam Giancana and Johnny Roselli, two of the mobsters whose names regularly turn up in JFK assassination lore.

In real life, a heartbroken Marilyn Monroe overdosed and both Kennedy brothers were assassinated. On Crime Story, Torello is able to prevent Mastrangelo from assassinating Rourke, and an emotionally strengthened Pamela is able to leave Las Vegas for what will hopefully be a brighter future than the one that awaited Marilyn. This episode feels like a work of alternative history, one in which the Kennedys lived up to their promise and one determined man like Mike Torello could prevent a nation from being traumatized.

For a history nerd like me, this episode was enjoyable. It held my interest. I liked seeing how the show reimagined history. At the same time, Luca and Pauli were definitely missed. A format in which Torello deals with a villain-a-week doesn’t carry the same emotional punch as watching Torello obsess, episode after episode, on just one particularly nasty villain. Because Luca and Torello were opposite sides of the same driven coin, not having Luca around makes it feel as if Torello is incomplete as well.

That said, this episode ended with a shot of a bandaged man sitting on a beach in Mexico. Could that man be Luca? Hopefully, we’ll find out soon!

1981’s Thief tells the story of Frank (James Caan).

Frank is a professional diamond thief, one of the best in the business. He’s so cool that he even has his own Tangerine Dream soundtrack. After doing a stint in prison, Frank lives his life very carefully and with discipline. He’s determined not to return to prison. His mentor (played by Willie Nelson) is still behind bars and will probably die there. In fact, Frank has even found himself thinking about abandoning his criminal lifestyle. He’s got two front businesses, both of which are doing well. (Frank’s used car lot looks like some sort of alien world.) He’s fallen in love with a cashier named Jessie (Tuesday Weld) and it’s starting to seem like now would be a good time to settle down and become a family man. The only problem is that Frank is working for Leo (Robert Prosky) and Leo has absolutely no intention of allowing Frank to walk away. As Leo puts it, Frank belongs to him. That’s not a smart thing to say to someone like Frank.

Frank’s an interesting character. He’s the film’s hero, not because he’s a good guy but because he’s a smidgen better than most of the other bad guys. He’s a professional, one who goes out of his way avoid unnecessary complications. When we see him on the job, it’s impossible not to admire just how good he is at stealing stuff. When he uses a blowtorch to break into a store or a safe, the screen is full of sparks and, for a few minutes, Frank looks like some sort of cosmic super hero brought to life. We admire Frank but we discover early on that he’s willing to get violent. He’s willing to pull a gun and threaten his way out of a situation. Frank is loyal. He visits his mentor in prison. He takes care of his partner-in-crime, Barry (Jim Belushi, making his film debut). He truly loves Jessie. But, at heart, he’s a criminal who doesn’t hesitate to pull the trigger when he has to. The question the film asks is whether one can just go straight, after years of breaking the law and living in the shadows. Can Frank abandon the lifestyle, even for love? Or is he destined to always be a thief?

Thief was Michael Mann’s feature film debut. (The Jericho Mile was Mann’s directorial debut but it was made for television.) Thief is full of the usual Mann themes and also Mann’s signature style, showing that Mann knew exactly what type of films he wanted to make from the start of his career. The nights are full of shadows. The days are deceptively calm. The neon of Frank’s car lot glows like another dimension. The final bloody shoot out takes place at night, in the type of suburban neighborhood in which most people would probably love to live. And holding the film together is James Caan, giving a coolly centered performance as a man who has learned to hold back his emotions and who won’t be controlled by anyone. Halfway through the film, Caan delivers a seven-minute monologue about life in prison and it’s an amazing moment, one in which Caan shows just how good of an actor he truly was. Thief is an effective and stylish neo-noir, one that sticks with you as the end credits roll.