Joyce Davenport
Hill Street Blues
May 14, 2010
by David Krell
david@davidkrell.com
Hill Street Blues began NBC’s tradition of quality drama in the Thursday night 10:00pm time slot. That tradition ended in 2009 when The Jay Leno Show took over 10:00pm time slot. Now The Marriage Ref owns the time slot.
Airing from 1981 to 1987, Hill Street Blues changed television.
The bad guys didn’t always get caught by the end of the hour.
The good guys weren’t always angels.
And story lines could last for multiple episodes, maybe even a season.
At the heart of Hill Street Blues was Captain Frank Furillo, a recovering alcoholic who guided the Hill Street precinct with compassion, toughness, and experience. He was trusted by his officers, detectives, and the gangs. Jesus Martinez, leader of the Diablos, often called him ‘Frankie’ out of affection, respect, and teasing. In later years, Jesus became a paralegal.
If Frank Furillo was the Hill Street precinct’s heart, Sergeant Phil Esterhaus was its soul. Played by Michael Conrad with a textbook definition of being avuncular, Esterhaus led off each episode in the middle of the morning Roll Call with the phrase Let’s be careful out there. Conrad died in 1983. Robert Prosky replaced him at the Roll Call as Sergeant Stan Jablonski with the less watchful and more bombastic Let’s do it to them before they do it to us.
Veronica Hamel played the sensitive, skilled, and sexy Joyce Davenport of the Public Defender’s office. The advocate shared a bed with Captain Furillo and later married him.
Despite the urban chaos surrounding them, the officers and detectives never stopped in their mission to clean up the streets.
And creators Steven Bochco and Michael Kozoll set a standard for television producing. Multiple story arcs, scenes involving walking and talking, and three dimensional characters are hallmarks seen in St. Elsewhere, L.A. Law, thirtysomething, ER, The West Wing, and Friday Night Lights, to name a few.
david@davidkrell.com
Hill Street Blues began NBC’s tradition of quality drama in the Thursday night 10:00pm time slot. That tradition ended in 2009 when The Jay Leno Show took over 10:00pm time slot. Now The Marriage Ref owns the time slot.
Airing from 1981 to 1987, Hill Street Blues changed television.
The bad guys didn’t always get caught by the end of the hour.
The good guys weren’t always angels.
And story lines could last for multiple episodes, maybe even a season.
At the heart of Hill Street Blues was Captain Frank Furillo, a recovering alcoholic who guided the Hill Street precinct with compassion, toughness, and experience. He was trusted by his officers, detectives, and the gangs. Jesus Martinez, leader of the Diablos, often called him ‘Frankie’ out of affection, respect, and teasing. In later years, Jesus became a paralegal.
If Frank Furillo was the Hill Street precinct’s heart, Sergeant Phil Esterhaus was its soul. Played by Michael Conrad with a textbook definition of being avuncular, Esterhaus led off each episode in the middle of the morning Roll Call with the phrase Let’s be careful out there. Conrad died in 1983. Robert Prosky replaced him at the Roll Call as Sergeant Stan Jablonski with the less watchful and more bombastic Let’s do it to them before they do it to us.
Veronica Hamel played the sensitive, skilled, and sexy Joyce Davenport of the Public Defender’s office. The advocate shared a bed with Captain Furillo and later married him.
Despite the urban chaos surrounding them, the officers and detectives never stopped in their mission to clean up the streets.
And creators Steven Bochco and Michael Kozoll set a standard for television producing. Multiple story arcs, scenes involving walking and talking, and three dimensional characters are hallmarks seen in St. Elsewhere, L.A. Law, thirtysomething, ER, The West Wing, and Friday Night Lights, to name a few.
Hill Street Blues
November 20, 2009
by David Krell
david@davidkrell.com
To kick off its third season in 1982, Hill Street Blues used a story that could make a combat veteran cry.
The episode Trial By Fury featured the Hill Street precinct investigating the rape and assault of a nun that results in her death.
The episode still holds up today, nearly thirty years after its initial broadcast.
The story line is shocking, revolting, and riveting.
In its first two seasons, Hill Street Blues proved it was not just another cop show.
Car chases featured standard, boring cop cars instead of souped up roadsters.
Story lines overlapped and continued beyond a single episode.
Characters had depth, pain, and curiosity.
Meanwhile, urban blight, gang warfare, and office politics contributed to the chaos on the Hill. Like the USS Enterprise, Hill Street Blues went where no one had gone before. Trial By Fury cements the evidence.
When Officers Bobby Hill and Andy Renko catch the two suspects -- Celestine Gray and Gerald Chapman -- the case seems like a lock. But Captain Frank Furillo soon realizes that the case will not be successful because of a lack of hard evidence.
With a city calling for swift retribution, a virtual lynch mob threatening violence, and organized crime holding killing contracts on the suspects, Captain Furillo has a snowball of a problem that can easily become an avalanche of bloodshed.
Enter Lieutenant Howard Hunter -- Hill Street Station’s resident military historian, strategist, and tactician. As head of the Emergency Action Team (EAT), Lieutenant Hunter’s responsibilities include overseeing tactical operations in hostage negotiation and gang violence countermeasures.
What better place to share his view of the situation than the Hill Street Station’s Men’s Room?
Lieutenant Hunter says that he would just as soon let the outraged public decide the fate of Gray and Chapman. Hunter’s offhand comment inspires Furillo.
Furillo wants to turn the liability of a lack of hard evidence into an asset. He believes that he can use the lynch mob as leverage. He wants Assistant District Attorney Irwin Bernstein to drop the charges against Gray and Chapman because he gambles that the suspects would rather face the justice system than mob justice.
Better to be tried by twelve jurors than carried by six pallbearers.
Enter Joyce Davenport -- Public Defender, Furillo’s girlfriend, and attorney for one of the suspects.
After a verbal outburst targeting the judge in the courtroom and a consequent, quick, and severe admonishment, Davenport confronts Furillo and his manipulation of the system to get what he wants -- a confession.
She argues that the confessions were coerced -- dropping the charges without putting forth a legitimate attempt at prosecution is tantamount to beating a confession out of a suspect with a lynch mob ready, willing, and able to dispense its own form of justice in addition to the looming threat of organized crime contracts.
Furillo justifies his actions, or lack thereof, by pointing out that Gray and Chapman committed the crimes even though the evidence cannot prove their guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. A confession by one of the suspects is proof enough.
The ends justify the means.
Furillo confidently furthers his argument by saying that he did nothing different than what he’s seen Davenport do for her clients. He used the system.
When Davenport says that she can’t be with Furillo tonight, the police captain’s respect for the tenacious lady lawyer shows clearly when he responds that he understands.
In a twist ending, we see Furillo drive to a church and enter the confessional.
The episode ends with Captain Furillo saying, Bless me Father, for I have sinned.
Somewhere, O. Henry is smiling.
david@davidkrell.com
To kick off its third season in 1982, Hill Street Blues used a story that could make a combat veteran cry.
The episode Trial By Fury featured the Hill Street precinct investigating the rape and assault of a nun that results in her death.
The episode still holds up today, nearly thirty years after its initial broadcast.
The story line is shocking, revolting, and riveting.
In its first two seasons, Hill Street Blues proved it was not just another cop show.
Car chases featured standard, boring cop cars instead of souped up roadsters.
Story lines overlapped and continued beyond a single episode.
Characters had depth, pain, and curiosity.
Meanwhile, urban blight, gang warfare, and office politics contributed to the chaos on the Hill. Like the USS Enterprise, Hill Street Blues went where no one had gone before. Trial By Fury cements the evidence.
When Officers Bobby Hill and Andy Renko catch the two suspects -- Celestine Gray and Gerald Chapman -- the case seems like a lock. But Captain Frank Furillo soon realizes that the case will not be successful because of a lack of hard evidence.
With a city calling for swift retribution, a virtual lynch mob threatening violence, and organized crime holding killing contracts on the suspects, Captain Furillo has a snowball of a problem that can easily become an avalanche of bloodshed.
Enter Lieutenant Howard Hunter -- Hill Street Station’s resident military historian, strategist, and tactician. As head of the Emergency Action Team (EAT), Lieutenant Hunter’s responsibilities include overseeing tactical operations in hostage negotiation and gang violence countermeasures.
What better place to share his view of the situation than the Hill Street Station’s Men’s Room?
Lieutenant Hunter says that he would just as soon let the outraged public decide the fate of Gray and Chapman. Hunter’s offhand comment inspires Furillo.
Furillo wants to turn the liability of a lack of hard evidence into an asset. He believes that he can use the lynch mob as leverage. He wants Assistant District Attorney Irwin Bernstein to drop the charges against Gray and Chapman because he gambles that the suspects would rather face the justice system than mob justice.
Better to be tried by twelve jurors than carried by six pallbearers.
Enter Joyce Davenport -- Public Defender, Furillo’s girlfriend, and attorney for one of the suspects.
After a verbal outburst targeting the judge in the courtroom and a consequent, quick, and severe admonishment, Davenport confronts Furillo and his manipulation of the system to get what he wants -- a confession.
She argues that the confessions were coerced -- dropping the charges without putting forth a legitimate attempt at prosecution is tantamount to beating a confession out of a suspect with a lynch mob ready, willing, and able to dispense its own form of justice in addition to the looming threat of organized crime contracts.
Furillo justifies his actions, or lack thereof, by pointing out that Gray and Chapman committed the crimes even though the evidence cannot prove their guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. A confession by one of the suspects is proof enough.
The ends justify the means.
Furillo confidently furthers his argument by saying that he did nothing different than what he’s seen Davenport do for her clients. He used the system.
When Davenport says that she can’t be with Furillo tonight, the police captain’s respect for the tenacious lady lawyer shows clearly when he responds that he understands.
In a twist ending, we see Furillo drive to a church and enter the confessional.
The episode ends with Captain Furillo saying, Bless me Father, for I have sinned.
Somewhere, O. Henry is smiling.