A few months ago, I watched a YouTube clip with stand-up comedian John Mulaney making fun of Ice-T‘s character on the show ‘Law & Order – Special Victims Unit‘:
Before this, I only knew that “Cop Killer” Metal/Rapper Ice-T was playing a cop on some police show, which seemed like an oddity to me. Also, I remembered coming across the show on those nights when I was scrolling helplessly on Netflix. Finally, I knew that it was a spin-off of another show called ‘Law & Order’. But I had never watched either of them, and I had no intention to. Now, after hearing Mulaney, I thought I’d give ‘Special Victims Unit’ a shot. A good old US network TV police procedural isn’t really my jam, and I wasn’t expecting anything of it. I just thought I’d watch a couple episodes, feel mildly entertained, and witness Ice-T look silly in his role.
And then something very different happened. The show kind of blew me away.
The main reason: It does not behave like a traditional cop show at all. It may look like one — the editing and camera work I have seen so far are decidedly old school. But the writing is totally not. It begins with the subject matter: The detectives on the show are all members of a special team in the New York City Police Department that focus on underage and sexually based crimes. But this is not what makes me want to watch the show — what they make of it does:
Not a single episode seems to present a clear-cut, simple solution to a crime.
Which is crazy — because that is why most people watch crime shows: At the end, we know who did it, the gangster or villain is identified, caught, put behind bars, so we can feel good about the world and go to bed. That is what crime shows are made for — to give people a sense of order and justice. But ‘L&O, SVU’ simply does not do that.
Instead, here is what it does: Every episode presents us with a legal, moral or ethical dilemma and shows us that “justice” and “right & wrong” are very complicated concepts which we cannot apply easily. After almost every episode, you are left wondering: Did they take the right decisions? Was the punishment fair? Did the actual villain get punished? Is there a villain? If so, who?
Also, the episodes are roughly split in half. The first half of each story usually deals with the detectives’ investigations. The second half takes place in front of the judge and jury when the cases are tried in court.
Sometimes, they really take it to extremes. Season 6, episode 8 is about a young college student who says she was raped by her professor. Throughout the episode, you cannot help but wonder: Was this rape? Or is the professor actually the victim? Then, at the end, the judge asks the jury:
“In the case of The People vs. Roland J. Polikoff, docket ending 445, on the top count of the indictment, the charge of rape in the first degree, what is your verdict?”
And the foreman of the jury answers:
“We find the defendant …”
Fade to black, cut to end credits.
The episode does not even answer the question. You sit back and have to make up your own mind.
Granted, this is an extreme example. In most other episodes, cases end with verdicts and with people put behind bars, etc. But in almost every case, you are wondering: Was this fair? Is this justice system working?
I find that astounding.
What’s even more astounding: This is not a niche show that exists in some obscure corner of the American TV landscape — this show is the longest-running scripted TV show in the history of US television! 26 seasons, with a whopping 1,615 episodes!
There are more things I find noteworthy. Almost every episode presents a twist about half way through. We usually start with a crime that is presented to the detectives and to the audience — a “regular” Whodunit. Let’s say, a person was murdered, and we want to find out who did it and why. But then, invariably, at some point the story pivots: Suddenly, the murder is only part of, or pathway to, a much larger story, problem, dilemma, series of crimes. Let’s take season 10, episode 6. It starts with a homeless man who is mutilated and burned to death. The incident is ruled a homicide; the detectives investigate. At the end, the story has dealt with teenage pregnancies (wanted or unwanted) and with online bullying. The creativity and number of ideas and concepts that are handled in each episode is extraordinary. One story that particularly moved me was season ten, episode 3 — it explores in a very poignant, touching way how bi-polar disorder can run in a family. It all starts with the daughter of one of the detectives breaking into a stranger’s house.
A show that has been on TV for so long seems to attract some big name guest stars, too. One of the fun parts is trying to figure out if I can place the guest star(s) in each episode, or figure out where I know them from. Which is easy when it’s proper superstars, of course. Like a young Bradley Cooper in a 2005 episode, or — an incredible performance — Robin Williams as Merritt Rook, a master manipulator who has problems with authorities after a doctor made mistakes that killed his wife. But even though I knew her face when I watched Gabrielle Anwar in the role of one of the victims, I had to do some online researching to find out that it was from ‘Scent of a Woman‘ with Al Pacino and Chris O’Donnell.
Speaking of stars, let’s return to Ice-T. From what I have seen on Netflix (seasons 6—11 are available on the streamer, I started at the top and am almost through season 10 now), John Mulaney is fairly far off, I think. Ice-T not only does a fine job as an actor (more so, the later the seasons), he is also a great asset to the show. His character is more nuanced than I had expected after Mulaney’s bit (‘Odafin Tutuola‘ is a vet, which sometimes comes up, and he has a difficult relationship with his estranged son), and he is also smarter and more “with it” than Mulaney makes him out to be.
There is only one thing I would criticise about the show: It takes itself incredibly seriously. Given the subject matter, that may be understandable. But still, if there were a few more moments when the detectives laugh at themselves, or only briefly leave behind the grim vibe, it would be even more fun to watch.
Still, though — what a show!