The Deuce, Season 1, Episode 1 Review: ‘Pilot’
Anyone who’s watched David Simon shows is probably already aware of his undeniable talent for interweaving disparate storylines into a rich universe of diverse characters from all walks of life that you love, hate, love to hate, hate to love, or feel some combination of all four emotions at the same time. Anyone who’s watched a David Simon show is probably also familiar with that feeling of needing to pause the show, turn to your viewing partner, and say, “Sooooo….who is that guy and what just happened?” Yes, being exposed to David Simon means getting some seriously in-depth, thoughtful, and riveting storytelling, but it is usually married to periodic feelings of confusion and the need to turn on subtitles (that won’t work, by the way). Nonetheless, it’s always worth it to stick through those periods of bewilderment because if you put your phone down for 1.5 hours, close the laptop, and COMMIT to watching, rewinding, rewatching, pausing, unpausing, and listening very closely to everything, you get paid off in spades. And based on the impressive first episode of The Deuce, you can look forward to all of the above.
Having said that, approaching a review every week of this show is going to be a daunting task. Like The Wire, The Deuce is so dense with character set-up across different environments and professions that it will be damn near impossible to cover all of it every week. I don’t have the time to write it, and you don’t have the time to read it. So, I’ll be approaching this in a very broad-strokes way, except for those plot points and developments that beg for more attention.
Despite its almost 1.5 hour running time, you can see that Deuce‘s ‘Pilot’ – directed by the extraordinarily talented HBO favorite Michelle MacLaren – is trying really hard to wedge a lot of characters and a lot of plot set-up into its first episode, set in New York in 1971. I couldn’t help but notice that many scenes only last what seems to be a few seconds before bouncing to the next to fit as much as humanly possible into the run time. It’s actually pulled off very well, but I was only certain of everyone’s names until about an hour in, and I’m still unsure about a few of the pimps. It really says something that the confusion over certain character’s names due to the whiplash-inducing speed of our introduction didn’t really matter; all that mattered was the fact that I was compelled with every single one of them, and by the end, I was invested in learning more about all of them.
The show appears to be attempting to intersect the lives of a responsible bar manager with an equally irresponsible twin brother tangled in mob life (James Franco as both Vinnie and Frankie Martino, respectively); Candy(Maggie Gyllenhaal) a slightly older sassy, pragmatic, and independent prostitute free from the chains of a pimp, but enslaved by the thoughts of a son who lives with her parents ; Darlene (Dominique Fishback), a young African American prostitute with a protective pimp, but also with a sweet, sensitive soul mixed with the street smarts of how to survive in her profession; C.C. and Larry (Gary Carr and Gbenga Akkinagbe, respectively), pimps who alternate between being protective of their girls, and letting them know who’s boss; Lori (Emily Meade), an attractive, edgy young lady enlisted by the seemingly charming C.C. as she steps off the bus into New York from Minnesota; and Abby (Margarita Levieva), the intelligent, confident, and sexually independent NYU student that gets entangled with the local police (and Vinnie) after an unexpected drug bust.
There are several other characters that could potentially prove to be way more important further down the line than the pilot is letting on, but for now, the pilot has chosen to stick primarily with these storylines. And in the process, they have given us some truly colorful, morally-dubious characters that are sure to rope viewers in for the long run. Franco’s depiction of the sympathetic – yet imperfect – Vinnie is a solid anchor to the proceedings, which is fortunate considering many of the characters appear to cross paths with him through the House of Korea restaurant/bar that his character manages. Maggie Gyllenhaal, who is essentially amazing in whatever she’s in, disappears into Candy, and embodies her with enough heart one moment and street smart badassery the next, that you can’t help but root for her to find happiness in something. By the previews, it’s probably porn, but hey, if that’s what the woman wants, give it to her! Because when you watch Candy in her old childhood bedroom, adorned with posters of Elvis and Marilyn Monroe, you see the remnants of dreams that never came true (for reasons we don’t know at the moment). And since she is pimp-less, you will probably always find yourself worrying for her safety, as I did a couple of times during the viewing. Such are the conflicted feelings one is bound to feel while watching this show. We all know that pimps are abusive and exploitative, but they offer a protection that these girls can’t give themselves, which inevitably leads to these disproportionate power dynamics that make pimps these Jekyll-and-Hyde characters that are doting protectors one moment, and violent monsters when the bottom line is threatened. We only got a taste of it this episode, but we’re bound to see more in coming episodes, I’m sure.
Margarita Levieva’s character, Abby, is removed from the bowels of New York’s prostitution underbelly (at least for now), and she is one of the wild cards whose trajectory I can’t quite figure out. She’s first to tell Vinnie that his new “leotard” policy for the waitresses at House of Korea may be objectifying (a hot concept in the newly sexually liberated 1971), and she asserts her sexuality by banging her professor, which many would say is just slightly reckless. This is the same recklessness that eventually finds her in Vinnie’s bar, where she continues to flirt her way to what she wants. I’m not hating. Get it, girl. But in a show that’s advertised to delve into the birth and thriving of porn in New York, I’m wondering if our young Abby will wind up expressing this recklessness in other ways.
Another character that gets some scant screen time, but is worth noting, is The Wire veteran Lawrence Gilliard, Jr playing Chris Alston – a friendly New York cop with a slightly slimy partner (Flanagan, played by Dan Harvey) who seems like the kind of guy that may get him into some trouble. Gilliard only has a couple of on-screen moments, but I can’t imagine that they’d bring back freaking D’ANGELO BARKSDALE from THE WIRE (and recently from The Walking Dead) only to have him play a minor character. We shall see.
Anyways, if you’re wondering if I think The Deuce is worth watching after one episode, the answer is a resounding yes. However, I’m only cautiously optimistic since I’ve seen shows have amazing pilots only to have a steep drop-off in quality right afterwards. But if the seven remaining episodes of The Deuce are as good as the pilot, I’m happy to tell my pimp that I’ll go along for the ride. And yes, I know how that sounds.
