There’s a well-known film critic and knowledgeable music
journalist in Sydney who refused to watch Treme
after its first season. Not because he didn’t like it, but because he liked it
too much. Over noodles for lunch, he hissed: “David Simon killed off the best character in the final episode and I
haven’t watched it since. I’m still pissed off”.
I suspect Simon would appreciate that. Three further seasons
of the great Treme characters and
plenty of sublime New Orleans music have not been watched because this viewer
is still getting over losing Creighton Bernette (John Goodman) into Lake
Pontchartrain at the end of season one.
Since his credit as sole “creator” of The Wire, Simon has teamed up with others to develop his TV series – with Ed Burns and Evan Wright for Generation Kill, with Eric Ellis Overmyer for Treme and now George Pelecanos for The Deuce. I’m not aware of Pelecanos having any particular aptitude for comedy, but The Deuce is easily the funniest series Simon has made.
It has plenty of drama as well, as it gleefully mixes Mean Streets with Goodfellas in a story arc about NYC street prostitution, massage
parlours and the burgeoning hardcore porn movie industry. But compared with The Wire, gun violence and thuggery are
very subdued. The top-banana Mobster Mr. Rudy Pipilo (Michael Rispoli) admires
Vince Martino’s (James Franco) honesty and his ability to resist skimming off
the top when everyone expects everyone else to do just that. Usually those NYC Italian
mobsters would call an honest man a mook (or worse).
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| James Franco (r), The Deuce |
It explores a world where pimps run street girls, regularly
having breakfast with them after a hard night. The pimps, however, while not
financially worse off, find themselves sidelined and suffering self-esteem
problems as the new Mafia-led industries develop around them. The cops on the
beat are pretty benign also: sensitive, almost caring and on first-name terms with
the prostitutes.
The funniest scenes are the porn shoots and here David
Krumholtz shines as the movie director Harvey Wasserman whose suggestions to
his humping “actors” never get much beyond “make
it look real”. When he leaves the cast and crew stranded because his car
has broken down and he can’t get a tow-truck, Candy (Maggie Gyllenhaal) takes
over as director.
Candy
(to cameraman; actors)
The dick takes us in…the action is of him walking up and
taking her from behind, right? If you start on her pussy, you’ve got no story.
It’s like…
Harvey
(finally arriving)
Hitchcock-Truffaut? You just gave a pretty good explanation
of how action dictates camera movement. The Hitchcock-Truffaut Interviews…but
[here] they’re talking about dicks and pussies instead of…I don’t know, a guy
getting up from a table.
Candy
 |
| The Deuce, pilot episode |
In one scene the characters debate whether to go to Play Misty For Me or Straw Dogs. A former construction
worker now running a massage parlour drops Marshall McLuhan’s name as though he
were talking about baseball. One of the prostitutes is having trouble with the
book she’s reading and holds up the cover – Immanuel Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason.
When the humour isn’t in the dialogue, it’s in the image.
A mobster’s office has posters of Stagecoach
and Redline 7000. Softcore porn
movie theatres in Times Square surround a solitary art cinema screening The Conformist. And Deep Throat competes with Boys In The Band.
It’s as well written and acted as Simon’s previous work
and while some of the characters may at first appear stereotypical, it doesn’t
last. At times, a guide to NYC street slang would help. I had to look up
Vesper. It means “A sensitive, kind, silly, smart, and awesome girl. She always has your
back, and is a great friend. She is a friendly fox and loves stuffed
animals and the color pink. You'll be lucky to have a Vesper as your friend, so
don't let her down” At least, I think
that’s what it means.
 |
| David Simon, George Pelecanos |
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