I initially reviewed the first two episodes, amazed by its great potential to create a fantastic miniseries on procedural politics that places less emphasis on power dynamics between different parties. Alas, I’m afraid that as the show progressed in the next four episodes, power dynamics became the centerpiece of Wasicsko’s story.
However, I do appreciate that the political drama is more acceptable in the sense that it can’t be as downright abhorrent and ridiculous as House of Cards politics, which is certainly entertaining to watch! For example, we don’t see the big guy towering over a meek politician demanding his “complete and absolute loyalty.” Instead, in reference to the show’s title, we watch the hero’s Greek tragedy play out as he falls from grace, while the powers that be claim responsibility for the success of the housing programs he pushed.
So let’s explore the entirety of the series itself. Based on a novel with the titular name, HBO’s Show Me a Hero is mostly about the government of Yonkers attempting to integrate the poor, mostly minority-occupied neighborhoods into the mostly white, middle-class areas through federally mandated public housing. In that process, the story centers around the young councilman (and soon mayor) Nick Wasicsko. His story was told initially in a very Milk-esque manner of storytelling. Yet as the newer episodes came through, his story is melted away to shine the spotlight on the other major characters, Doreen, Norma, Billie (black individuals who move from the projects to the new townhouses), and Mary (the white, middle-class activist whose ideologies are challenged by the forces that run the government and the mob mentality).
Initially, the first two episodes shied away from your traditional greasy, grimy-handed, stab-in-the-back, tit-for-tat power politics that you see in many popular political dramas today, including the likes of House of Cards, Boss, and Scandal. I described this process in my original review as aspirational politics in the first episode, and procedural politics in the second. The portrayal of the show’s procedural interactions is, in fact, a very closely replicated display of real-life procedure in typical mayor-council governments, rather than the hyped-out shady dealings we are so used to from House of Cards and the Ides of March.
Then comes the next four episodes, and here you see Wasicsko’s troublesome fight to be in the game again. That’s the part that irked me, because I truly thought that the show didn’t need to become “that political drama” just like many others. It brilliantly portrayed the mundane governmental proceedings as something exciting (and inherently flawed) in the first two episodes, and that’s the formula that would’ve finished the series beautifully had the creator kept it in the series. I do absolutely love Alfred Molina’s portrayal of Mayor Spallone, though. This actor never fails to deliver a brilliant performance.
What I do appreciate though is that the series maintained what I pointed out earlier: the great exchange between the mindset of policy-making/debating and the outcry of popular inclinations. Beautifully choreographed, the council chambers can suddenly be in uproars as all logic is thrown out of the window. Folks do not care about what makes sense anymore, as passions overtake reasons in a staunchly anti-Socratic fashion, something that we are so used to nowadays with Donald Trump’s theatrics and the Planned Parenthood fiasco. This was later underlined beautifully by Wasicsko’s comment on the “silent majority” later.
There’s not a lack of humanism in this show either. Personal flaws are explored in each of the individuals affected by the housing program, and we see them grow and eventually overcome their challenges and superstitions. Also, I can’t help shake the feeling that perhaps the creator intends to send a message to viewers stating that yes, the silent majority ought to speak out and not let the superstitious loud minority drown out their voices (a great nod to Ferguson or the radical right outcries indeed).
There were certain moments when anyone who watched The Wire would recognize the big nod to the great show. For example, the scene of Judge Sand discussing the housing case with two other guys in a shot that is so reminiscent of McNulty’s interaction with his judge friend in the first episode, a Wire fan would be insane not to have noticed. Spallone’s photographic snapshots of black kids on the street doing “suspicious” things? Thank you Carver and Herc. Clark Peters (Lester Freamon) and Michael Potts (Brother Mouzone) also make nice appearances for all us Wire fanatics.
Of course, when all is said and done, we come back to our hero Wasicsko. While the rest of the world go about their daily lives, Nick is facing his own demons that no one understands. This show started with his aspirations, and then it ends with his demoralization. It is strange to think that such a guy who was introduced to us as a chill and infallible person can tremble for something as small as reputation. Maybe that’s the tragedy that F. Scott Fitzgerald told us about, but I have a hard time accepting it as realistic. It is based on a true story though, no? And maybe back in the 80s, reputation was all we cared about before the internet burst into scene (and celebrity trash).
It is what it is. My revised review: 7/10.
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