At the end of a
harrowing day, in which Detective Andy Sipowicz (played by Dennis
Franz) has had to investigate the stabbing death of a man on a public
bus in front of his now-widowed wife and two kids, a messenger from
heaven appears to him in the squad's washroom. This messenger is in the
form of his late partner (played by Jimmy Smits) who died of heart
disease several seasons ago. He has come to bolster Sipowicz's spirits
which have sunk to a low ebb. The murder of the man on the bus, leaving
his family bereft and with little support, has brought home to Sipowicz
the litany of his own misfortunes over the years: the murder of his son
Andy Jr. who had tried to come to the aid of a robbery victim; the
accidental shooting of his previous wife at a courthouse by a
disgruntled plaintiff in a lawsuit; and the death of the former partner
that has now appeared before him. In addition, he is currently coping
with the downward spiral of his present partner John Clark (played by
Mark-Paul Gosselar), who himself has suffered a similar litany: the
recent
suicides of his father and mentally ill girlfriend. Sipowicz, of
course, has to deal with countless horrors and low-lifes in his job as
a New York City detective, along with a personal history as a
recovering alcoholic, and given his pragmatic and cynical personality
and generally gloomy outlook on life, he is not one disposed toward
fantasy or the idea that God is in His heaven and all's right with the
world.
Enter Jimmy Smit's "angel" when Sipowicz's defences
are decidedly down. Is he an hallucination? Perhaps so, but Sipowicz
insists on placing his hand on the apparition's chest to verify that he
is really there. (Is this a not-so-subtle echoing of certain Gospel
post-resurrection scenes?) This angel seems solid, and the impression
is that we should be taking the scene at face value. Smits (I can't
recall the name of his character) encourages Sipowicz to find the
courage to keep going, as his work is important. True enough, but Smits
then makes it clear that he comes from heaven at the behest of the
Deity, and when Sipowicz, somewhat taken aback, asks "You mean there's
a God?" his former partner assures him that this is indeed so. The
detective asks about his dead son and wife, and is told that they are
"fine" and send him their encouragement as well. Sipowicz voices his
fear of having to endure any further personal loss, referring to the
potential self-destruction of his current partner Clark, and Smits
points out that what the younger Clark needs in his own time of trial
is a kind of surrogate father figure, something Sipowicz could supply
if he is patient and understanding, and can find it in himself to draw
on the reservoir of his own strength. The episode ends with the
detective approaching his partner at the end of the day with that
strength and patience summoned.
While the scene was not played in an overly preachy
manner and was reasonably well written and acted, it could not help but
strike some people, myself included, as simplistic. The blows that have
struck both Sipowicz and Clark, not to mention the ongoing misery the
detectives witness on a daily basis in their interaction with the
seamier side of life, are not dealt with by the angel, no attempt at
any explanation for why things are the way they are in a world watched
over by a heavenly father figure. Smits at one point reveals something
to the effect that "what we do down here" is important to "up there,"
setting up the standard religious dichotomy of this world and next
world. With the implication that it is the latter which is most
significant in our personal fate, with the former only a prelude to it,
perhaps this is meant to explain why heaven takes so little active role
in improving the lot of those on earth or preventing tragedies such as
Sipowicz and Clark have both witnessed and suffered. It is a mark of
Sipowicz's depression and vulnerability that he doesn't display his
usual feisty manner and demand an explanation for such a dispassionate
attitude on heaven's part; indeed he fails to express any of his
characteristic skepticism. One fears where the writers may be
intending to carry this particular story line or character development.
Unlike the usual tone of this series, which
often leaves one with anything but a 'feel-good' atmosphere at the end
of the day, this scene seemed to be conveying that all was indeed "well
with the world" as long as we acknowledge God in his heaven and act
accordingly. The world won't be changed, of course, but we can accept
it and presumably function better. This is a highly simplistic view of
things, and essentially unproductive. The core result of the scene in
the here-and-now is Sipowicz's renewed spirit and changed attitude
toward his partner's behavior, and his strengthened ability to help
him. But this could have been achieved by other, more realistic means,
by Sipowicz's own insight into the need for human understanding and
self-reliance, to find wisdom and vigor to cope with the world's, and
one's own, failings and try to correct them. Relegating ultimate
significance and responsibility to a divine overseer in an imagined
heaven is hardly the most efficient means to that end. Yet this was the
message left with us by this episode of "NYPD Blue".
Is this where television is heading? Will it
be catering (or perhaps one should say, pandering) to the increasingly
naive and pious immersion of our society in things spiritual, perhaps
to the new political reality which promises to exercise its moralistic
muscle? It has been rare in drama shows (except those specifically
designed to center on a supernatural context, such as "Touched by an
Angel" or "Joan of Arcadia") to introduce religious beliefs into their
plot lines. I suppose we can thank the nominal religious plurality of
the country for the writers' avoidance of specifically Christian terms
(no mention of Jesus, for example), but breaking the religious barrier
like this seems to augur ill for the future and promises to subject the
entire TV audience to the superstitions that still govern so many lives.
Earl Doherty
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