When "NYPD Blue" went off the air two weeks ago, the need for a new cop show may not have seemed apparent. But can "CSI: Crime Scene Investigation," "CSI: Miami," "Law & Order," "Law & Order: Criminal Intent," "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit," "Law & Order: Trial By Jury" and "The Shield" really fill the void?
ABC's guess is no. And so, the newest cop show in their primetime lineup is "Blind Justice."
Though you may cringe at the crassly punning title, the show does aim to be about what the clunky name implies. It is a series about detective Jim Dunbar (played by Ron Eldard), who
chooses to return to his job after being blinded heroically in the line of duty. Because Detective Dunbar has a Seeing Eye dog, uses a blind sensing stick
and actually is not like every other cop, "Blind Justice" has the potential (ignore the cop part for a second) to offer something new.
In theory, "Blind Justice" promises to deal with an interesting and potentially important social issue: disability in the workplace. The drama of a man seeking fair treatment from peers, colleagues and a society that inevitably misunderstands and distrusts him because of his blindness could be, at the very least, fascinating and possibly a
ground-breaking drama.
Or it could fail to effectively discuss these issues and be just another network prime-time cop show. Only time or the season's remaining 12 episodes will really tell. Unfortunately, judging by last week's premiere, innovative television does not seem to be on the horizon.
In episode one, Ron Eldard is a strong presence as Dunbar, and his difficulty navigating the detective terrain literally and figuratively is sometimes captivating. But most of the time, his blindness is treated like a gimmick and not as a complex dramatic concern. And an interesting gimmick does not make great drama.
Sure, as a blind cop, Detective Dunbar must perform flawlessly to prove his efficiency in the face of his skeptical peers. But displaying Chuck Norris-like Kung Fu moves and reassuring us obstinately that a loaded gun belongs in his hands ("If you can take the gun from me, you can have it!" Dunbar screams at a skeptical detective) seems to caricaturize a process that could be presented with ample pathos and moving emotional subtlety. Is it so obvious that this blind man will make a good cop?
The discomfort Dunbar's colleagues feel and Dunbar's resulting defensiveness are implicitly interesting because they mirror real-life issues surrounding disability's effect on the social equation. But because Dunbar is presented as obviously competent, "Blind Justice" reduces this tension to a limpid "bad cop/good cop" routine. When he aims his gun at an attacker standing five feet away, any potential to explore the complex ramifications are ignored: we "see" what he sees: a red ball of blur (sound? heat?) exactly where the perpetrator is standing. Of course he's competent!
In addition, the detective work Dunbar and associates take part in which should serve as the "justice" backbone upon which his blindness merely adds an interesting complexity is nothing new. To call it "watered down NYPD Blue" would insinuate that it's made from the same broth. It doesn't come close.
Unlike the intricate cases and interweaving investigations that characterized the recently concluded program, there are no controversial witnesses in "Blind Justice," no reasons to feel conflicted about the perpetrators, no reasons to feel anything for the victims. Rather, the first case the search for a serial murderer that mutilates prostitutes is incredibly uninteresting; the story unfolds as if it was retrofitted so as to allow Dunbar maximum opportunity to perform his few extra-sensory tricks. (He smells cordite and concludes gun-play; he hears a train and links the
suspect to the crime.) In the end, these "tricks" suck the tension out of the case. Beyond the affirmation that Dunbar can indeed be an effective detective (this is proved many times), the crime, the investigation, the outcome and the visual and dialogic treatment of each are of minimal dramatic interest.
In the end, we are left more curious about Dunbar's angry wife (Rena Sofer) and discordant emotional state which he hardly talks to or about, respectively than his future in the squad. But in the premiere, even these potentially interesting topics are muted. At first it seems Dunbar's wife is alienated because he feels the need, without sight, to exaggerate his self-resilience. But later we learn the less interesting truth.
Ultimately, writing off "Blind Justice" after only one episode would be like putting down a book with an intriguing premise just because the first few pages were convoluted. While the opening faltered in its attempt to marry a socially relevant situation to a potentially tired subject, maybe the rest of the season won't. Possibly, the dramatic impact of a man trying to restructure his life (emotionally and physically) without sight will be properly balanced with the potentially exciting, albeit over-mined, drama of police work. Watching the next episode, which airs tonight, will be like reading the next few pages of this very intriguing book. But if that sucks too, there's always "CSI," "Law & Order" and "The Shield."
Joey Rubin (joeyrubin at gmail dot com)