One would think that the failure of 2013’s Mob City would make TNT reluctant to try again with another period drama about crime and corruption in the big city. But clearly not, as the network is placing a lot of muscle behind Edward Burns’ Public Morals, debuting Tuesday night. Though the first episode explores some well-trodden territory and takes a while to fully sink its teeth into viewers, it does appear that Public Morals has the gumption to succeed where others have failed.
Given that the show is set in 1960’s-era new York, it’s not surprising that comparisons to Mad Men are brought up as frequently and loudly as possible. However, the show is about as far removed from the swanky offices and board rooms of Madison Avenue as possible while still remaining within the city limits. Public Morals is more concerned with the Hell’s Kitchen crowd, featuring a large cast of mostly Irish American cops and gangsters and exploring the oddly intertwined relationship between the two. The officers that comprise the NYPD’s plainclothes “Public Morals Division” are tasked with ridding the city of vice, but their job is more about keeping alcohol, gambling and prostitution under control than waging a holy crusade.
Burns pulls quadruple duty on this series, not only starring but serving as writer, executive producer and even directing the first several episodes. Burns’ Officer Terry Muldoon is one of the standouts in an all-around solid cast. There’s an authenticity to Burns’ performance that no doubt comes from his own experience growing up as the son of an Irish American cop. Early on, the episode establishes a strong dynamic between Muldoon and his partner, Charlie Bullman (Michael Rapaport). It becomes clear that both are generally decent, well-meaning men despite being on the take and their close connection to the Irish mob. As Muldoon explains to new recruit Jimmy Shea (Brian Wiles), their job isn’t so much to clean up the streets as it is to keep gambling and prostitution behind closed doors and running smoothly for all involved. He advises Jimmy, “Think of us as landlords. If you want to do business, you have to pay the rent.”
That matter-of-factness is one of the show’s stronger assets. Public Morals is neither too intensely dramatic or serious nor too tongue-in-cheek. It’s certainly not Law and Order: Hell’s Kitchen, drawing hard lines between good and evil or emphasizing standalone cases over serialized storytelling. The show is methodical about showing all sides to Muldoon’s world, including his relatively happy but still tumultuous family life. The friction between fathers and sons looks to be a huge theme throughout these 10 episodes. It’s enough to wonder if executive producer Steve Spielberg had a hand in some of that material.
Public Morals is more Martin Scorsese-inspired in terms of its general look, feel and approach to crime drama. The show paints a convincing portrait of New York circa-1967, an era when the city was painfully evolving and its less savory elements were beginning to make themselves more apparent. There’s a real sense of the old clashing with the new in terms of the fashion, the shots of the city and the soundtrack. Public Morals very much comes across as a crime noir, if not a particularly flashy or stylized one. That said, a tense chase scene and a shadowy confrontation outside a bar do impress with their strogn camera work and framing.
The large cast is a bit of a hurdle, however. Burns shows no qualms about throwing viewers right into the deep end of this world. The ensemble cast also includes Katrina Bowden as an independent call girl named Fortune, Timothy Hutton as Mr. O (Muldoon’s uncle and the resident numbers man of Hell’s Kitchen), Austin Stowell as Sean O’Bannon (Mr. O’s less-than-loving son and another new recruit to the Public Morals Division), Keith Nobbs as Pat Duffy (who, to draw a comparison to The Wire, is basically the Ziggy to Sean’s Nick Sobotka), Lyndon Smith as Duffy’s sister, Dierdre, and Wass Stevens and Ruben Santiago-Hudson as two veteran members of the Public Morals Division.
It’s a lot to take in all at once, and that’s not even including actors like Neal McDonough and Brian Dennehy that will become a focus in later episodes. Given the large cast, it should come as no surprise that the premiere struggles to develop many of the supporting characters. Stevens’ Vince Latucci and Santiago-Hudson’s Lt. King feel especially slighted, as they quickly emerge as the show’s two most colorful and charismatic personalities. Latucci’s mustache alone would make the cast of Super Troopers jealous. Certain characters come across as redundant in the context of this first episode. Does the show really need both Sean and Jimmy to fill the requisite rookie cop role? Why does Fortune seem so disconnected from the rest of the conflict?
The methodical approach to introducing characters and conflicts also results in a lack of tension for much of the first episode. The pacing is almost lackadaisical as it bounces from group of characters to the next, and the tone and pacing rarely escalate outside of the opening and closing sequences. The series might have benefited from starting with a smaller cast and building from there.
That said, the final ten minutes do begin to address that problem as characters begin to face the destructive fallout of their actions. By the end, a major crime is committed that will clearly link the characters and propel the show along for the remainder of its ten episodes. The show finds its hook in these final minutes, suggesting that the slow build-up and large cast will quickly begin to pay off in the weeks ahead.