HOMICIDE - LIFE on the STREET

S01E05 - "Three Men and Adena" (A+)
                          or:
"The Episode that Killed Moses Gunn"

          Watching a good show cross over into the territory of greatness is always a joy to behold.  Thus far into its first season, "Homicide" has shown the potential for greatness, but has never quite captured it.  Until now.

          All evidence points to Risley Tucker (Moses Gunn, in his final performance) as Adena Watson's killer. But all evidence is circumstantial, and the only way they can guarantee a conviction is if Tucker confesses to the murder.  The problem is, the son of a bitch won't break.  He's been brought in to the station three times, questioned ten, and if they push it any further, the department will have a harassment suit on their hands.  So it's come down to this:  Pembleton, Bayliss, and twelve hours in the box with Tucker.

          "Three Men and Adena" is practically a bottle episode, despite the fact that a few scenes take place outside of the box.  It's claustrophobic, delving not only into the confined space of the interrogation room, but into the psyches of the three men within it.  Pembleton and Bayliss have disagreed about interrogation technique in the past, but somewhere off-screen they have wound up on the same page.  Their interrogation of  Tucker is an elaborate performance, a delicate balance of theatrics, psychology, and as Pembleton likes to put it, "salesmanship".

          At first, Tucker seems grossly outmatched.  They do all they can to marginalize him: belittling his chosen trade, questioning his sexuality, doubting his newfound sobriety.  Tucker claims he hasn't had a drink in sixteen months, and Pembleton openly doubts his claim.  "What's that wine they start with?  Cheap stuff, quick drunk?" he asks Tucker.  "Mad Dog," replies Tucker.  "Mad Dog!  Yes!  You miss it?"  It's cruel, toying with the mind of a recovering addict in such a way, but kindness is not known to elicit confessions.
          The two detectives then split up, playing their game of bad cop/slightly-less-bad cop.  Bayliss goes apeshit, spitting on Tucker's food, nearly burning Tucker's face on the exposed steam pipes of the interrogation room.  It's a far cry from the rookie of the first few episodes.  Bayliss is the eyes through which the viewers see the story, full of naiveté and optimism.  In fact, the episode begins with a shot of a television, then cuts to Bayliss, the viewer, much as we are.  Bayliss' eruption perhaps embodies the rage that we, the viewers, feel toward the suspect, though the show has been ambivalent towards portraying him as obviously guilty.
           Pemblton is much more artful in his antagonism of Tucker.  "The mind can play tricks on you," he says.  So can Jay Rabinowitz, editor of the show, who takes an unbroken conversation between Tucker and Pembleton and places Pembleton in various positions around the room.  The conversation is seamless, but Pembleton seems to be coming from every angle.

Pembleton's at the table.

Then he's in the corner.

He looms over Tucker's left shoulder.

And then he's off-screen, to his left.

       







































          He attacks the credibility of Tucker's own recollection, as alcohol impairs memory functions.  How can Tucker be sure he didn't black out?  He wouldn't remember it if he did.  But the real dagger up the sleeve is Tucker's failed engagement.  Pembleton says she broke it off, not because of his alcoholism, but because of his sexual deviancy.  Tucker is shaken by this, but remains unbroken.
          Bayliss rejoins Pembleton in the box, and they resume their well-rehearsed routine.  They wear away at him, an even gaslight him a bit, both of them claiming his guilt is bringing tears to his eyes.  But the tears aren't there, and as they go in for the hard sell, they lose control, but they don't know it yet.

          This far into the episode, the character of Risley Tucker seems wasted on someone as talented as Moses Gunn.  But as Pembleton and Bayliss have been picking away at the weaknesses of a veritably mute suspect these hours, their seemingly witless suspect has been doing something: observing their weaknesses.  He did what Ali did to Foreman in Zaire: leaned against the ropes and let the opponent self-destruct.

          They can barely muster the question "Did you kill Adena Watson?" anymore.  He first turns to Pembleton, attacking his New York heritage and white education.  "500's.  That's what my buddies and I call colored folks with fortunes.  They look down on the rest of us."
          Then he leans into Bayliss, telling him what part of Maryland he grew up in.  He sees the animosity in Bayliss, and the insecurities that lie behind it.  Bayliss looks down, disarmed, and Tucker knows that he's won.  He knows they can no longer take anything from him that he isn't willing to part with.  So he shares with them his love for the young Adena Watson, and his shame for being an old man in love with such a child, but nothing more.  The twelve hours is up.  His guilt has been purged, and he will retain his freedom.  He can now watch TV, feeling detached, just like the rest of us.

          The interrogation sequence during the latter part of this episode is some of the most finely-written police procedural ever to grace the small screen.  Not only that, but the actors involved bring both intensity and subtlety in appropriate portions.  And, perhaps, most importantly, an unwritten rule of police dramas has been broken: you can't get away with murder.  For all the indulgence in whimsy the show has partaken in so far, it has all been redeemed in the space of 45 minutes.

Potent Quotables

• Most of the memorable dialog takes place during the interrogation, but this wouldn't feel like an episode of "Homicide" without a dose of bleak humor.  Crosetti and Lewis share adjacent stalls in the station bathroom.  "You got toilet paper over there?" asks Crosetti.  "No."  "You got five ones for a five?"

Tags: Homicide: Life on the Street, NBC, David Simon, The Wire, Richard Belzer, John Munch, Clark Johnson, Meldrick Lewis, Yaphet Kotto, Al Giardello, Kyle Secor, Tim Bayliss, Andre Braugher, Frank Pembleton, Melissa Leo, Kay Howard, Jon Polito, Steve Crosetti, Salami Brain, Fat-Headed Guinea, Ned Beatty, Stan Bolander, Moses Gunn.