Crime doesn't pay, but it sells quite easily on TV. So it's no surprise that Fox selected "The Chicago Code," the new police drama from "The Shield" creator Shawn Ryan, as a midseason replacement. It's also no surprise that every scene involves at least one — and often two — of the following: a gun, a high−speed car chase, yelling, death and/or sex. What is surprising about this series, though, is that it really can't be lumped in with all the other cop riffraff. Shockingly, "The Chicago Code" is actually a worthwhile television series.
The show centers around the absurdly masculine and oddly named homicide detective Jarek Wysocki (Jason Clarke) and his old partner Teresa Colvin (Jennifer Beals), who now serves as Chicago's first female police superintendent.
The most important presence in this show, however, is not a character, but the setting of Chicago itself. With its frequent skyline panoramas, Cubs references, funny accents and soundtrack full of Chi−town natives (such as Kanye West and Common), this show will not let you forget what city you're messing with.
In the first of a series of snappy and fun narrative asides, Colvin shares how she grew up watching her father struggle financially because of organized crime and corruption in the business world. The day she received her badge, she vowed to avenge him by cleaning up the city — a task so great that it requires at least five or six supporting cast members.
Playing the part of Colvin's supreme nemesis is Alderman Ronin Gibbons (Delroy Lindo), a powerful, allegedly corrupt political figure who occasionally gets down and dirty with his secretary. Colvin wants nothing more than to take him down and bring justice to her city, but she knows it will be a grueling process — it could take seasons.
To complicate matters, because Colvin is the police superintendent, she often needs Gibbons' help, and vice versa, which creates a bizarre dynamic of co−dependency and contempt. This early in the series, characters and storylines are already blurring the line between good and bad, which isn't a bad thing. "The Chicago Code" masterfully transforms what could be just another trite crime drama into a full−fledged commentary on the city of Chicago as a flawed institution — a confusing intersection of morals and politics, idealism and reality, and compassion and corruption.
Gibbons himself explains it best during his narration: "They say Chicago is the city that works. What some people don't understand is it works in a lot of different ways." This flexible presentation of the show and its characters compellingly keeps viewers from getting too comfortable with a plot or a personage. In this show, no character is exempt from making a mistake — kind of like, you know, humans.
In fact, this show is so in−your−face that the actors sometimes make the viewer blatantly uncomfortable. Beals' eyes don't move, ever. Clarke sports a conventionally deep and manly voice, but kind of looks like a painter (though maybe that's not entirely his fault). Matt Lauria (who plays Caleb Evers, Wysocki's new partner) looks like an attractive version of Jesse Eisenberg. But back to Beals' eyes — she seriously doesn't blink.
All jokes aside, "The Chicago Code" shows serious potential, because it has somehow found a fresh way to portray policing and crime. Considering there are like thirty different spin−offs of "Law & Order," this is a real accomplishment. Viewers of the show not only experience the inner workings of a police department, but also learn how this department interacts with its city in political, economic and social contexts.
And even if you're not into the whole ethical gray−area thing and just want some solid action, it's not like there's a lack of wacky car chases or gratuitous sex scenes. What would a silly cop thriller could be without those, right?
