Crime was a major issue in the late 1970s and 1980s, and became a fixture in popular culture as an indicator of a decaying society. During that particular period, steadily increasing crime rates set up a situation where the issue was usually framed as "tough on crime" punishment versus "bleeding heart" rehabilitation. The decline of it as a big political issue is largely due to the trend of declining violent crime rates. The result was that many of the wedge issues of the 1980s and early '90s (e.g., the death penalty, three strikes laws, etc.) lost their bite.
It's interesting to look back at the sort of pop culture effect all of this had. The Blaxploitation genre is dependent on showing the inner city as “ghettos” where pimps and drug dealers rule the streets. Some rural dramas of the era play against the divide of “values” between a city lifestyle, and a presupposed more pure and ethical country way. The Dirty Harry cowboy cop and the entire "revenge" genre, where victim becomes vigilante a la Death Wish, became more popular as those crime rates began to go up. It was also coupled with an Archie Bunker backlash of aging white, blue-collar voters who thought the social revolutions of the 1960s had gone too far, with some critics pointing out "Dirty Harry was Easy Rider in reverse, featuring a hippie as serial killer rather than victim." If you watch films and TV shows from that era, New York City is almost always depicted as a cauldron of sin, just a few steps away from anarchy, and turning into Thunderdome.
And this effect may not be totally gone. The fact white people even sometimes debate whether a hoodie or loud music is enough justification for someone to be scared enough to kill an innocent black man in a Black Lives Matter argument might just be based in part on media depictions of black men as “thugs.” Also, if you’re making America great again, then this era of history is probably where one in the Trumpian mindset probably thinks things went to shit.
Almost all modern depictions of police characters are morally muddled, with the protagonists being guys that are willing to bend the rules to achieve what they think is a just result. So I thought it might be interesting to throw this question on the table: what are the best crime dramas ever from both television and film?
One other interesting takeaway before I start with the bullet points. The crime drama is also a fascinating insight to human concepts of fear and control. It can acknowledge the random senselessness of murder, contemplates whether there is any meaning to it, while also giving us a fantasy where order is restored and justice is done.
I'm going to get the ball rolling with my own short list of favorite television and film crime dramas. I could probably go on and on and on. I know I'm going to leave something out that should be in there. So before you post your "How could you not mention 'X'?" comment, just know that I used my psychic powers of foresight and knew that you were going to come along and mention it.
- Columbo: One of the most satisfying detective series to ever be broadcast on television. Peter Falk is amazing in the title role, and the dynamic of him being the humble, kind detective taking down rich assholes who think they've committed the perfect crime is just great. The show was different in that it was not a "whodunnit." The audience is shown the crime at the beginning of each episode and the tension comes from how exactly Columbo would unravel the truth. And Columbo taught the audience, like no other cop show, that when questioned by the police SHUT UP. Call your lawyer. Don't chit-chat. Don't offer your theories on how the crime might have gone down. Don't dazzle them with your erudition and wit. And that's one of the most interesting aspects of the show. The murderers are members of the 1 percent who underestimate working-class Columbo, and think he's a pestering idiot right up until the moment he has the evidence to nail them. Some of the best guest stars were John Cassavetes, Patrick McGoohan, Jack Cassidy and Leonard Nimoy, whose character is notable as the only murderer to ever make Columbo angry.
- The Shield: There was always the question of how far people would go in rooting for Michael Chiklis's crooked cop, Vic Mackey. Following Mackey and his Strike Team's exploits in the Farmington Division of Los Angeles, which was based on the real-life LAPD Rampart Division CRASH unit, the series centers on the decisions undertaken by the lead characters and how those actions radiate out in ways they could have never imagined. In interviews, Chiklis has talked about how he thinks fans of the show stayed with his character because they believed that Vic had some sort of utilitarian logic to his actions, and in some ways go along just like the other members of the Strike Team. In fact, Forest Whitaker, who joined the show in the fifth season, didn't understand why his character, Internal Affairs Detective Lt. Jon Kavanaugh, was hated by the fans and regarded as a villain for going after Mackey.
- The Wire: Series creator David Simon was quoted as saying The Wire tried "to do with modern-day Baltimore what Balzac did with Paris, or Dickens with London." One of the central themes of the series is a very realistic look at urban decay. Each season the viewer saw the problems of Baltimore from a different perspective (i.e., drug-ravaged housing projects, disappearing jobs at the docks, crumbling public schools, corrupt political administration and the Baltimore Sun). In short, the series looks at institutional dysfunction and the very real effect that has within a major city. Almost, if not every institution, whether it be local or state government, the school district, the police department, or the Baltimore Sun is in some way corrupt or incompetent, and fails in their stated goals.
- Homicide: Life on the Street: Before The Wire, David Simon's nonfiction book Homicide: A Year on the Killing Streets was adapted into a series on NBC. In a lot of ways, it shares similar ideas and themes with The Wire. You have a Baltimore police department, where the higher-ups are more interested in covering their asses than clearing cases. It also had a sort of bleak realism that set it apart from most other cop shows before it. However, even though it had a great cast, the standout performance was Andre Braugher as Detective Frank Pembleton. The cocky but conflicted character was always amazing to watch, especially in the interrogation scenes.
- Law & Order: I can still be sucked into watching one of TNT's three hour blocks of the original show. And it used to be that A&E and TNT had dueling multi-hour blocks running at the same time! Creator Dick Wolf's formula for Law & Order is interesting to look at, since it almost functions like an anthology series. The regular characters on the various Law & Order mostly exist as story devices to move the plot along instead of being personally connected to the stories being told (and hence the reason Wolf could cycle in new actors at the drop of a hat). Usually the only details about the characters' personal lives divulged in the episodes were those connected to the victim and the accused. On the original Law & Order, especially during its early seasons, it was very rare for the show to ever delve into the backgrounds of the characters. So for the most part, the connection the audience had to Jerry Orbach's Lenny Briscoe came not from learning all about Briscoe's life story, but witnessing his skill at his job over and over again.
- The Sopranos: Of all of the characters on this show, the one that I found the most repugnant was Carmela Soprano (Edie Falco). Deep down, even with his public pronouncements to the contrary, Tony Soprano (James Gandolfini) knew how awful he was on some level. Carmela, on the other hand, tried to make herself believe that she was better than Tony, even though she lived in a mansion, drove a luxury car, and wore jewelry that was all bought with blood money. What made this show unique and so interesting was crossing a modern family dynamic with all of the aspects of organized crime stories. This made Tony Soprano a complicated character. He loved his family, and loved all the little animals, but he was a killer. Seeing how those around him, and even the viewer, tried to make sense of it all, was part of what made the show great.
- Breaking Bad: The series is considered by many to be one of, if not THE greatest show ever created for television. Some critics have even called it the best example of a modern Shakespearean tragedy, with each season mirroring the five act structure. Among the different subtexts critics have seen in the series are deliberations from male pride to the failure of the social safety net. One of the key questions the series puts in front of the audience is whether the justification of "family" is real or bullshit for the characters? And how you answer that question will color how sympathetic you are to them. On some level, Walter White (Bryan Cranston) truly did believe he was becoming a "drug manufacturer" for his family. But it wasn't the entire story. Walt enjoyed becoming "Heisenberg." And even with Skyler (Anna Gunn), she resisted going to the police citing the damage it will do to the family. But she enjoyed getting the car wash with Walt's drug money. There were lengthy arguments about the audience's reaction to Skyler (i.e., their hate of her) and whether the dislike for the character is based in part on misogyny. The flip side of that argument is that Walter White's turn to Heisenberg is the alpha male fantasy that everyone who's ever been talked down to by some asshole with a clipboard or cuckolded by their wife wishes to experience. This was a show in which a man who feels like life has never been fair to him says "fuck it" and takes control of his own destiny. And the consequences are horrific.
- Fargo: I could probably cite either the film or TV show, but I'm going to stick with the film for now. Joel and Ethan Coen's Fargo is considered one of, if not THE best film in the Coens' rather impressive filmography, with critically acclaimed performances by William H. Macy and Frances McDormand, for which she won the Best Actress Oscar and it's a "crime" this film was beaten by The English Patient for the Best Picture award. The Midwestern setting, which makes the entire region look like a frozen wasteland, and the sing-song Minnesota accents ("Oh, you betcha, yaaa") gave the film a quirky feel. The nuts and bolts of the story revolve around a blackmail plan that goes horribly, terribly wrong. Everyone connected to the blackmail plot is flawed by ego and greed, and their inability to realize that they're not as smart as they think they are ultimately seals their doom and causes more death and destruction. And the one person on the case is pregnant police officer Marge Gunderson (McDormand), who doggedly pursues the leads and unravels what happened. I think Marge and her husband are meant to be contrasts to everyone else. They're so plain spoken and outwardly honest, while all of the other characters are drowning in lies, ego and self-delusion. Without spelling out all of the details, there are little moments that say a whole lot about their relationship. When Marge is introduced, she's woken up in the middle of the night. Her husband insists on getting up too and making sure that she has breakfast before heading out to the crime scene.
- No Country for Old Men: Speaking of the Coens, their adaptation of Cormac McCarthy's novel is regarded as one of their best films and exemplifies many of the themes in their other works. Greed, arrogance and a desire for order and karmic justice in the face of what seems to be a cold, uncaring world are brought out of the story to a bleak and chilling effect. The film and book both deconstruct the "hero" archetype, showing the protagonists as either prideful and stupid to the point of not realizing the consequences to other innocent people, or impotent and unable to keep up with a changing world.
- City of God: Based on the book of the same name by Paulo Lins, Fernando Meirelles's film tells the story of life in the slums of Rio de Janeiro, in an area known as the Cidade De Deus, the City of God. The story is told from the narration of the young photographer, Rocket. The different aspects of life that make up the story is presented in sections. All of the facets that make up the characters, from childhood through to adolescence, with their transformation from children to gang leaders is charted. The final parts of the story focus on a battle within the Cidade De Deus for control that makes the place a war zone.
- Se7en: This and Fight Club are the films that launched David Fincher's career. It has a wicked story that is both stylish and horrifying. The film revolves around two detectives, Somerset (Morgan Freeman) and Mills (Brad Pitt). Somerset is retiring and burned out, while Mills is a rookie who believes he can change the world. Both men are hunting a serial killer (Kevin Spacey) who murders his victims according to the seven deadly sins. One of the central themes of the movie is apathy, both among individuals and society as a whole. As it's said in the film, whether raising a child, having a loving relationship, or building a great society, it requires hard work and effort.
- Chinatown: Directed by Roman Polanski, scripted by Robert Towne, with a score by Jerry Goldsmith, the movie has some great craftsmanship behind it. Jack Nicholson's private investigator J.J. Gittes gets a small case that eventually leads to something bigger. The performances and the intricacy of the plot lead us along with Nicholson, and we experience and learn the revelations along with him.
- Justified: Based on the novels and short stories by Elmore Leonard, the series follows Marshal Raylan Givens (Timothy Olyphant) and is a modern western. Sorta what if Marshal Dillon from Gunsmoke was transported to modern-day Eastern Kentucky? The feel of the show, along with the setting of Harlan County, Kentucky (i.e., where Barbara Kopple's 1976 documentary Harlan County, USA was filmed) gave the series something unique. My mother was born and raised in an itty, bitty little town in Mississippi. Her family has about as much history and "eccentricities" as the Crowders and Bennetts do in Justified. I bring that up because when watching a TV show or movie, if you're from the part of the country where it's set, you can almost always tell whether the writers, producers and people involved have ever actually spent any time living in and visiting the area, or are writing from their experience of driving through with their windows rolled up or flying over on their way to Disney World.
- Goodfellas: Based on Nicholas Pileggi's book Wiseguy, the film tells the rise and fall of Henry Hill. In the great film canon of Martin Scorsese, this is one of his best. The movie has at least three scenes that are considered iconic to both movie and Scorsese. The long tracking shot through the kitchen of the Copacabana that follows Henry, the switch in the conversation where Tommy (Joe Pesci) asks "How the fuck am I funny?," and the use of "Layla" during a particularly significant montage. And I could go on and on, since I could also throw in the "shine box" scene as well.
- Scarface: Maybe not the best movie ever made, but a highly quotable one. I mean who hasn't dreamed of snorting a mound of cocaine. And I mean a mound of cocaine, grabbing an M-16 and screaming "Say 'Hello' to my little friend!" Based (sorta) on the 1932 Howard Hawks film of the same name, Al Pacino is Tony Montana and the film is the story of his rise and fall, complete with chainsaws in the shower, and lots and lots of cocaine. It was written by Oliver Stone, who was trying to kick his cocaine habit while penning the screenplay.