Please note: This blog is written on the premise
you've seen the pilot episode of Backstrom. The first episode left viewers with so much to mull over, I wanted to comment on it all...
The problem with television being
viewed as a popular medium is that it's so easy for people to dismiss material based
on snap impressions. In truth, television’s become a complex creature over the
years, and in Backstrom's case, what's being said, inferred, highlighted, etc,
is so nuanced, I felt a blog was warranted.
For those who draw comparisons to House,
just a note to say I never enjoyed that show. Likewise, while I occasionally
watched Bones (this is from the same creator, Hart Hanson), I wasn't an avid fan. My appreciation is based purely on this series. (Note: Backstrom is drawn from the book series by Leif G. W. Persson.)
As pilots go, the first two thirds of the
episode are a little messy, a rushed set-up in a traditional procedural framework that
occasionally grates, but the final third brings it home/hits it out of the
park.
Backstrom's greatest flaw, from what I can
tell online, is a lead character lacking charm. An irritable, gruff lead is
acceptable, as long as charm is inferred. That’s the accepted tv stereotype. This
lead character (played cleverly by Rainn Wilson) is charm-free, and at first, I struggled. The guy is RUDE, but I
hung in there because I wanted to see where the writers were going.
And boy, do this lot jump straight into the
heavy stuff. Don’t get me wrong, this show ticks some tired trope boxes, but even
then, weird character quirks are thrown in, snapping you out of conclusions you're so used to drawing when watching procedural television.
Probably the most startling point is that
Backstrom the character is deliberately non politically correct. He purposely
says terrible things to people. In today's world, it's culturally ingrained
that we ostracize individuals who are verbally disrespectful. Good people are PC (even
if same said people are killing their neighbors and burying them in the
backyard). The appearance of political correctness is paramount. Already, the
audience is being placed in a difficult position. We are taught it's wrong to
judge or label others, unless people are being verbally politically incorrect—in which case, judge away.
Right off the bat the viewer is
uncomfortable. While this guy obviously has issues, it's a modern cultural
conundrum that the person who says the most openly racist comments is often the
least racist in their actions and friendships, etc. Alternately, people who carefully mouth the most PC comments are often the least likely to exhibit diversity in their friendships and workplace relationships. But this
grey area that's sprung up is something society generally ignores.
(This is complex stuff to be making me
think about, Team Backstrom.)
In the first few minutes we learn how
physically unhealthy Backstrom is. I like this because the Western world is in
the throes of an obesity epidemic. The cure is simple, the cause, not so much.
People know how to lose weight. They do not, however, do it, for myriad
reasons. Acknowledging this makes us uncomfortable because we like to
think the issue is simple, and immediately dismiss people who do not make the
appropriate life changes as "lazy". In tv
land, as an audience we have more sympathy/empathy for a beautiful addict,
than a fat grump.
Turns out, everyone puts up with Backstrom's
crap because he's great at solving homicides. This seems a good enough reason
for me; I'm all for the dead getting justice. It’s apparent from the get go solving
homicides means something to this guy, so his refusal to verbally filter, or
turn his life around, makes the situation tragic, but complex. Even when at risk of losing a chance at the job he loves, he still partakes in unhealthy habits. The scene where his housemate Valentine finds him trying
to eat a plate of broccoli is pitiful, desperate, and fantastic.
This is when I began to realize Backstrom
is, at heart, a show about fear. The kind of fear modern society does not like
to acknowledge. More on that later (just wanted to plant the idea now).
On to Backstrom's team. Each of the characters starts
off vaguely stereotypical but before you can dismiss them as
cliches, the story twists on you.
For example, the religious characters. We
live in a world where religion is often dismissed, even mocked, in popular
culture. And yet by the end of the episode, two of the religiously
inclined characters on Backstrom's team are shown to be the most insightful,
and perhaps the least fearful.
Dennis Haysbert as Dt. Sgt. Almond gives a
beautifully understated performance, one that makes you look forward to future
appearances. Some argue he has too little screentime in the pilot, but he
is the least fearful character, and more screentime with someone so calm and
centred would have thrown off the set-up.
Kristoffer Polaha as Sgt. Niedermayer diffuses
Backstrom’s aggression by espousing a love/hate dichotomy. At first it feels like you’re
invited to ridicule him, then the script forces you to grudgingly respect him. (Keep in mind he does cop quite a bit of character exposition.)
Partnering the pretty young thing with the
grumpy derro is a tv habit most of us roll our eyes at. Genevieve Angelson as
Det. Gravely has one of the more difficult roles because she is the straightforward,
rule-following partner. Basically, she’s a bit of a Scully, and that’s always
hard to sell. Angelson does a good job with what she's given, bringing depth to the role, and you like her by the episode’s
conclusion.
Both of the female lead roles are sexualized
here (there’s a passing reference to sexual misconduct for Gravely) which seems
like a television requirement these days. While it’s not really the best element,
the writers do try to utilize it in a way that adds a suggestion of complexity
to her character.
Gravely is very politically correct and
empathic with witnesses. Until, that is, the scene where she assaults a murder suspect, and
without qualms, asks Backstrom to falsify his testimony.
This turn of events is startling, but you
recognize the request comes from fear. And it highlights another element the
show looks at which isn't so popular nowadays; the idea that lawyers are
available to help criminals, but for police there is only the constant hovering
threat of internal affairs. No one is there for police to turn to while doing
their job, but for criminals there will always be lawyers to turn to while living a life of crime. Depressing, but true.
The other female lead (Beatrice Rosen as Nadia Paquet) is ridiculously
beautiful, and everybody pretends to not really
notice. (Another tired television requirement. We live in an aesthetically obsessed
culture; incredible beauty is never ignored.) But she becomes interesting, in terms of narrative, when it's revealed she's a genius (not a word I love, but one audiences recognize). Moving her from the expected sexual
scenario with the male lead and placing her firmly in an asexual friendship role
was a very interesting choice.
The precise moment the show (and the lead character)
won me over, was when Backstrom threw the gun into the water. Unlike other
procedurals, there was no I defeated-the-bad-guy celebratory pause. His actions were
shocking. I loved that it was the ordinary cop, presented as slightly dense and often condescended to (officer Moto, played with heart by Page Kennedy) who
provides the wisdom in this scene. He points out the bad guy shot Backstrom, so
he doesn't need to fear internal repercussions. Moto says, you're in shock, but in truth, Backstrom is in fear. And in that moment, we really SEE the
character.
We understand how incredibly desperate
Backstrom is to keep doing the work he loves. On the surface, Backstrom is
weak, and that is something we cannot abide in today's world—the appearance
of weakness. In reality, Backstrom is much more complex than that.
The show highlights a sobering
fact: being smart doesn’t automatically mean you’re safe from fear. The
intelligent Dr. Deb Chaman (elegantly played byRizwan Manji), who Backstrom
treats like a whipping boy—despite Chaman having power over Backstrom’s
career—is revealed to have replaced religion with science. The
implication that it’s not proving to be as resilient a shield against a fear of mortality is an unusual stance for mainstream television.
Backstrom’s relationship with the character Valentine
is interesting. Thomas Dekker has always thrived onscreen, he has a certain energy
that translates beautifully, and here his flamboyant character is pretty much
the perfect foil for the more dour lead. Audiences would probably react better
if Valentine (unofficially) partnered Backstrom on the job, because Valentine
brings the charm, but it's not that kind of show. And I think future reveals
regarding their connection (I'm guessing here) will be a way in for the
audience, in regards to connecting more with Backstrom. (On a side note, I also
appreciate that they explained away the magnificent furniture.)
My other favorite scene in the pilot was
Backstrom detailing the moment the guilty character chose the wrong path.
This scene resonates because we've all
watched people (over and over), when offered a crossroad moment in life,
deliberately choose the wrong path—often motivated, once again, by fear. It
is heartbreaking and hard to understand, and in that moment I realized
Backstrom always saw the wrong path, partly because he had taken it, knowingly
chosen it, for himself.
Sometimes it felt like Backstrom almost
abhorred the witnesses he was dealing with, and their weaknesses, because
he abhorred himself.
I should mention that even the choice of storylines
for witnesses were interesting. Always nice to see Brett Dier (as the barista
Archie), he's great at playing vulnerable characters. His story highlighted a
life path altered by fear. Once again, the theme dominated.
In a society focused on seeing the good in
others—sometimes with a frighteningly blinkered determination—Backstrom is
not only seeing the parts that aren't good, but betting odds on that those less than stellar character traits will dominate choices. And sadly, considering his success rate with
homicide cases, he's often proved right.
In summary, I didn't feel the show was
asking me to glorify or pedestal a weak man who says terrible things. The pilot
wasn't overtly charming, or optimistic, and almost everyone was flawed. But it
was asking me to think, to wade into the grey, and, not empathize, but be open
to considering the lives of people who spend every day in that kind of headspace. I
didn't feel it was implying Backstrom's behavior should be excused because he
is good at solving homicides. To be frank, it didn't feel like the show was
asking me to excuse anyone. It just wanted me to watch, and that's what I'm
going to keep doing.
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