Fighting Inner Demons

By James Poniewozik

Like components of the college curriculum, the major cop dramas of the past decade represent three different ways of seeing the world. NYPD Blue is policing as social science, fixated on alcoholism, racism, whateverism. Law and Order? Hard science, with its brass-tacks forensic empiricism.

And Tom Fontana and Barry Levinson's Homicide was humanities, a character-driven mix of philosophy, religion and Dostoyevsky. Unsurprisingly, then, it was the first department to lose its budget, getting axed at nbc last spring. Now writer-creator Fontana says he and Levinson intend The Beat (UPN, debuts March 21, 9 p.m. E.T.) to delve even deeper into the inner lives of cops. "I'm less interested in the cases than in the effects of them on these guys," he says.

So The Beat is less about crime fighting than peacekeeping, civic and personal. Its hunky heroes spend more time wrestling with internal demons than with crooks; on the job, they report pigeon murders and settle traffic disputes. These are sensitive cops for the post-Diallo era (and shadowing their actions are protests over the death, in custody, of a black suspect).

The show uses a novel trick to convey its dual focus: the personal-life scenes are shot on film, police scenes on digital video. The digital scenes are jarring (part Blair Witch Project, part 1981-era Duran Duran video), but Levinson says they mimic the "voyeuristic kind of approach" of shows like Cops. Says Fontana: "You want [channel surfers] to stop and say, 'What the hell is that?'" That might also describe a typical Homicide fan's reaction to UPN mates like WWF Smackdown!, but entertainment president Tom Nunan says the show is a good match for UPN: "We do things a little differently, and that is Barry and Tom's hallmark."

If only The Beat were a bit more different. The leads' personal crises--a commitment problem, a crazy girlfriend--are too familiar; the show makes the NYPD Blue mistake of acting as if tired melodramas take on depth simply because cops experience them. (In fact, its funny take on police grunt work is its true strength.) But it has nicely observed dialogue and fine, understated performances--and if anyone can inject needed life into this genre, it's Fontana. "His instinct is great," says David Zayas, a New York City policeman who acts in the series. "He would have made a fine cop."

--By James Poniewozik