With “Part Three,” Show Me a Hero becomes the bitter polemic it threatened to become with its first two installments. This is an angry, remonstrative hour of television, but remarkably it never veers into hysteria or finger-pointing. It’s easy to place blame – and, while we’re being honest, it’s cathartic, too. But David Simon (along with returning director Paul Haggis) isn’t interested in that. It’s difficult to place blame when there are so many guilty parties. In any other show, this would cost Mayor Nick Wasicsko his soul; in Show Me a Hero, it just might cost him Yonkers.
Make no mistake: Yonkers is being systematically dismantled. The state of New York, so unwilling to help Nick in the beginning of the episode, is more than willing to dole out Draconian punishments to the city of Yonkers. Daily million-dollar fines? Check. Forced layoffs of over 600 people? Check. The threat of suspension of municipal services, like police and firefighters? Check. Nick, and the city, is well and truly backed into a corner, and men like Hank Spallone are too concerned with their political future. To paraphrase a line from another HBO show, Game of Thrones, Spallone would watch the city burn to the ground if it meant he could be king of the ashes. His announcement that he’s running for mayor is “Part Three”‘s least surprising, but somehow most anger-inducing, development.
Simon’s anger isn’t directed solely at politicians, or even at the intransigent citizens of Yonkers. Don’t get me wrong, Spallone is absolutely presented as a villain, his ever-present toothpick taking the place of a mustache to twirl (note to any opportunistic assholes: if you find yourself on the wrong side of history, a hugely profitable network will cast a fantastic actor to play you, and everyone will know what an opportunistic asshole you are). What is so remarkable about Show Me a Hero is the sympathy that Simon shows to the protesting citizens. It’s telling that the one we spend the most time with is Catherine Keener’s Mary Dorman, who comes off as reasonable and polite, her objectionable viewpoints notwithstanding. When she says that her protestations have nothing to do with race, part of me wants to believe her (although Mary’s mention of her two black friends, with the inclusion that she’s driven them home but never actually been inside their homes, is a deft piece of cringe comedy).
The biggest x factor of this show is its huge ensemble, which has yet to fully link. Will it ever? I wouldn’t mind if it didn’t, honestly. Characters like Doreen (RIP Skipper), Billie, Norma, and Carmen help flesh out the world of Yonkers, and give us a glimpse into the lives of the people who actually live in these dreaded affordable housing units. They’re fundamentally decent people, but like any of us, they’re imperfect. Skipper was a drug dealer, but he still stuck around for his unborn child. Carmen is so worried about her son that she threatens to kill not only his father, but his entire family.
I guess that’s indicative of a larger stage that Show Me a Hero operates on. This is a show about a city only on paper. Really, like The Wire, it’s a show about America. And a damn good one at that.
A Few Thoughts
- Peter Riegert is doing great work as Oscar, ridiculous facial hair notwithstanding
- “We’re about to go from martyrs to murderers.” Councilmen Longo and Chema coming around was one of Hero‘s rare optimistic moments, when it shows that public servants aren’t complete jackasses
- “People just want a home”
- The scene of Nick being attacked in his car was genuinely tense and frightening. Excellently staged by Haggis
- Michael Sussman accuses Oscar of fearmongering. Perhaps he is, or perhaps Sussman is being willfully ignorant. An argument could be made either way. The fact that I can have these kinds of thoughts about a brief conversation between two minor characters is a great indicator of Hero‘s meticulous approach to character
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