or most of us, the news that a series has been shot
in high-definition video is so much mumbo jumbo. Wake us when
the technology moves out of the realm of nerds and into the
hands of artists. Well, that's finally happened. In "100 Centre
Street," created by Sidney Lumet, new technology visibly affects
style in a tough, absorbing series about the judges, prosecutors
and defendants who keep cases whizzing through Manhattan's grimy
night court. Oddly enough, that future-oriented technology helps
Mr. Lumet evoke the old days of live television drama, where he
made his name in the 1950's.
At the heart of "100 Centre Street" (the address of
Manhattan's criminal-court building) are issues that have
resonated throughout his career, in films like "Serpico" and
"Prince of the City." Here, too, he explores the personal
ethical dilemmas that seem purely political to the outside
world. But the new series also raises questions about television
drama today: can a show with the calm look and earnest soul of
an older era attract viewers used to the flash and pace of
"E.R." and "The West Wing"?
Tonight's terrific two-hour opening should, because of Mr.
Lumet's writing and directing and Alan Arkin's superbly real,
understated portrayal of Joe Rifkind, a thoughtful judge so
prone to giving criminals every chance at redemption that his
nickname is Let-'em-Go Joe.
It takes about 15 minutes for the episode to pick up steam,
which is about how long it takes to get used to the slightly
unsettling difference in its look. High-definition cameras
create a sharper texture resembling that of news coverage, which
makes the action feel more alive.
In addition, Mr. Lumet has shot the series by placing several
cameras around each scene and letting that scene run to the end,
as if he were filming a play. That puts viewers outside the
action, rather than in the middle of it. There are no dizzying
camera moves, no White House aides dashing down the corridors of
the West Wing into our faces. The editing is not static, but
there are plenty of quiet scenes in which we watch characters
talk in close-up.
In one of those conversations, Rifkind and a black judge,
Attallah Sims, discuss how much they like their nicknames. Hers
is "Attallah the Hun," for her harsh sentencing and manner.
Though the characters' different philosophies and deep
friendship implicitly deal with black- Jewish relations, Mr.
Arkin and LaTanya Richardson as the wry, brisk Sims redeem the
roles from stereotypes.
Rifkind lands in a moral and political nightmare when a
subway turnstile jumper, whom he sets free, kills a police
officer on that same night. There are even more melodramatic
twists in the identity of the dead officer. Still, Mr. Arkin
slips completely into the character of a man whose compassion
and common sense somehow coexist. He tells his wife (Phyllis
Newman, in a beautifully modulated performance) about the mess
his decision has created. "I don't know if it's going to
disappear," he says matter-of-factly. "I don't know if it should
disappear."
Another character's moral dilemma echoes powerfully in future
episodes. Bobby Esposito (Joseph Lyle Taylor) is an assistant
district attorney whose grandfather was an immigrant and whose
slimy brother is a Wall Street success and a drug addict. When
his brother is arrested for the third time, Bobby's father (Tony
Musante) asks him to delete one of the arrests from the computer
records.
As the furious Bobby and his father sit on a bench outside
the court building, and the camera lingers on their
conversation, the scene is exhilarating and gripping. A return
to this old style is not automatically a virtue, though. In the
third week's episode, Kate Burton plays a woman tired of her
husband's dangerous life on the police force; their long,
anguished dialogue carries the stale whiff of old kitchen-sink
dramas.
The series's only fundamental weakness is the character of
Cynthia Bennington (Paula Devicq), an assistant district
attorney supposedly rebelling against her rich Fifth Avenue
family. If she were, she probably wouldn't have such long,
golden hair or a genuine gold name plate on her desk.
Future episodes are uneven, partly because nearly a dozen
different writers and directors are involved, including Mr.
Lumet. Next week's (written by Siobhan Byrne O'Connor and
directed by Jerry London) feels like warmed-over "Law and
Order." But whatever the series' future, this first provocative
installment puts technology to a dramatic use that even
technophobes can love.
100 CENTRE
STREET
A&E, tonight at 9
Sidney Lumet, writer,
director and executive producer; Debbie Elbin and David Black,
co- executive producers; Phillip W. Hack, line producer; Delia
Fine, executive producer for A&E Network.
WITH: Alan
Arkin (Judge Joe Rifkind), LaTanya Richardson (Judge Attallah
Sims), Paula Devicq (Assistant District Attorney Cynthia
Bennington), Joseph Lyle Taylor (Assistant District Attorney
Bobby Esposito), Manny Perez (Ramon Rodriguez), Tony Musante
(Albert Esposito) Val Avery (Sal Gentile), Tony Gillan (Frank
Esposito) and Phyllis Newman (Sarah Rifkind).
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