whitlockienterprisespresents:

Homicide: Life on the Street
Season 5 promo
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Just had a conversation about Homicide with a friend, and am currently watching season 5 with my brother. ALL the feelings come flooding in… I love this show more than anything.

whitlockienterprisespresents:

Homicide: Life on the Street

Season 5 promo

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Just had a conversation about Homicide with a friend, and am currently watching season 5 with my brother. ALL the feelings come flooding in… I love this show more than anything.

… Tom Fontana’s old show is getting plenty of air-time in the U.S., in syndication on Court TV, and former star Callie Thorne says she loves it, particularly the early episodes before she joined the cast.

But not everyone from the show tunes in.

“I’ve only seen it one time,” says Kyle Secor, who played Bayliss. “That was when I was bringing food over to Richard Belzer’s apartment. And he was lying in bed in a housecoat and stocking cap watching it and muting it when anyone else’s scenes came on.”

Pat St. Germain, Winnipeg Sun, Jan. 19, 2000 (via tomfoolery815)

- Plenty of New Yorkers ran down here to Baltimore. Dorothy Parker, for example.- Dorothy who?- Parker, you illiterate!

- Plenty of New Yorkers ran down here to Baltimore. Dorothy Parker, for example.
- Dorothy who?
- Parker, you illiterate!


CROSETTI: I think I know who did it. LEWIS: Who? CROSETTI: Jeff Davis.LEWIS: Who’s that one?CROSETTI: Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederate States of America!LEWIS: Now, you still trying to figure out who whacked Abe Lincoln?CROSETTI: I told you, we could solve this thing!

CROSETTI: I think I know who did it.
LEWIS: Who?
CROSETTI: Jeff Davis.
LEWIS: Who’s that one?
CROSETTI: Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederate States of America!
LEWIS: Now, you still trying to figure out who whacked Abe Lincoln?
CROSETTI: I told you, we could solve this thing!


PEMBLETON: Look, kid. I got nothing against you, but I don’t need a partner. I don’t want it, I don’t need it.BAYLISS: Not “it,” me.PEMBLETON: Okay. I don’t want you.

Oh, Pembleton and glass of milk.

PEMBLETON: Look, kid. I got nothing against you, but I don’t need a partner. I don’t want it, I don’t need it.
BAYLISS: Not “it,” me.
PEMBLETON: Okay. I don’t want you.

Oh, Pembleton and glass of milk.

Homicide: Life on the Street, "Colors"

  • BAYLISS: Frank. My cousin would never consciously kill anyone.
  • PEMBLETON: I don’t think it was premeditated, Tim! I think it was inherent. Your cousin’s racism is so deep, so much a part of him, that he didn’t get a chance to think about what he was doing. Jim is worse than a Klansman, because at least in their white sheets they’re recognizable, but your cousin’s brand of bigotry is much more frightening because, like still waters, it runs deep. He doesn’t even see it himself.
  • BAYLISS: You’re wrong. You’re dead wrong.
  • PEMBLETON: The only one dead wrong is Hikmet Gersel. Did you see what happened after the verdict was announced?
  • BAYLISS: (quietly) Yeah.
  • PEMBLETON: They applauded. Those law-abiding citizens, those good-hearted people, they applauded the death of a child. Let me ask you a question, Tim, and then you tell me if it was racially motivated or not. If that kid had been American, if that kid had been white, do you think anyone woulda cheered?

alylovesfilms:

The Homicide:Life on the street movie is on youtube.

whitlockienterprisespresents:

Bayliss: So, you gonna interrogate him?

Pembleton: Interrogate him?

Bayliss: Yeah yeah, I’m just saying - you know, not a partner thing - but, when you interrogate him, I’d like to sit in.

Pembleton: Then what you will be privileged to witness will not be an interrogation, but an act of salesmanship. As silver-tongued and thieving as ever moved used cars, Florida swampland, or bibles. But what I am selling is a long prison term, to a client who has no genuine use for the product.

Bayliss: …So, that’s a yes.

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TV Show Meme

5 TV Shows (1/5)

Homicide: Life on the Street

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Under the watchful direction of Lt. Al ‘Gee’ Giardello (Yaphet Kotto), detectives of the Baltimore Homicide Department tackle the harsh reality of working in the murder capital of the USA. It’s thankless, soul-destroying work, and the bodies just keep dropping. But somehow, life must inevitably go on.

Based on the non-fiction novel Homicide: A Year on the Killing Streets written by journalist David Simon, Homicide was a hugely influential and brutally honest rendering of the lives lived by those whose business is death. More recent successes of the genre - most notably Simon’s much-beloved baby The Wire - owe their very existence to the foundations laid out by Homicide's fearless innovations, a documentary-esque tale in which justice is not only fickle and frequently unknowable, it's often little more than an afterthought. To call it a procedural is to miss the point entirely - this is not a show in which every case is neatly wrapped up by episode's end, where the 'good guys' win the day by outsmarting clever killers and righteously avenging the innocent dead. This is not an action story full of car chases and blazing guns and suspiciously pretty cops who are way too young to hold such venerated positions in the department. This is a show were a quarter of cases go unsolved, where 33 episodes went by before a gun was ever fired onscreen, where the action is over and the body already cold by the time our Avengers arrive to mull over the corpse and bitch about the paperwork. True to life, most cases are simple and perpetrated out of morbid stupidity, there are few genius murderers, few feats of forensics that reveal The One Big Clue, and hardly many more instances in which the answer to that fabled question “but WHY did they do it?” is of any use at all. That's not how the real world works, folks.

Being off-beat and uncommonly gritty, Homicide was always a hard pill for the network to swallow, a critical darling too damn good to be axed but too non-conformist for NBC to dare throwing their weight behind. As the seasons went by, concessions were made to the network desire for a ‘more marketable’ product, and the number of young, pretty people doing action-y things increased as the confronting ugliness of real-world narratives decreased, and overall show quality went with it (nevertheless, the final season - despite being miles below the magnificence of those preceding it - was still solid and occasionally brilliant tv. It’s a testament to the impeccable craft of Homicide that even at its lowest point, it was better than most other shows at their best). What NBC execs refused to embrace was that Homicide was never intended to be a traditional cop show. Homicide shot straight at the heart of the many issues painting the landscape of Baltimore’s society, it didn’t preach or pander, it portrayed. It wasn’t about coming up with inventive, scandalous cases to investigate - the focus held steadily on the humanity of those involved, the victims, the perpetrators, the families left behind, and the detectives tasked with cleaning up the mess at the end of life. The real world is full of racism, sexism, and homophobia, full of divorces and drinking problems and suicidal depression, and the question is not whether the characters will encounter such issues, but rather ‘how far will it drag them down’? This was where the cynical John Munch (Richard Belzer) originated - a character who has gone on to appear in eight different tv shows over the past two decades. There was the brilliant, arrogant Frank Pembleton (Andre Braugher), sensitive rookie Tim Bayliss (Kyle Secor), hardworking perfectionist Kay Howard (Melissa Leo), suave, streetwise Meldrick Lewis (Clark Johnson), and The Big Man, Stan Bolander (Ned Beatty). They - and others - comprised a cast which (for five seasons at least) was perfectly balanced, a squad full of frazzled, flawed people working with a tired, unforced naturality (the most notable addition to this mix was the cheerful - and monstrously unlucky - Mike Kellerman (Reed Diamond) in season four).

Ultimately, it could be said that Homicide was a show about three things - sick, faltering society, the people who live and die within it, and the things we say before we go. It’s a show that - no pun intended - lives and dies on the believably of its dialogue, and that is something I’ve never seen successfully achieved before or since. Homicide took the spoken word and used it to inspire a sense that these people were not only real, but that they were people we all know - that we’ve encountered them somewhere before, half-remembered, and are simply becoming reacquainted. It was in that way that we can witness the fabled Pembleton coercing a confession from an innocent suspect, and believe that we would have confessed too in his place. We can spend an entire episode with three characters in a small room doing nothing but talking, and come out the other side gobsmacked and questioning everything we think we know (and the show can win an Emmy for it). A single scene between two characters can last twenty solid minutes, and we’re too enthralled to notice. And those hardened detectives can escape the infernal heat of the squadroom to go to the rooftop and play like children under a hose wielded by their beloved Lieutenant, and somehow, it’s the most beautiful thing possible. It’s not about writing the most clever turn of phrase, just as it’s not about big action sequences, shock twists, romantic subplots, or even reminding the audience that the world we live in kinda sucks. It’s about finding reality and telling it honestly, even if it’s not smart or attractive or comfortable, and reminding us that it’s all compelling anyway - that there’s always a little bit of light in the dark, that around every death there is a vast, teeming life. 

entegegenwartigung:

Promotional photo for “Shades of Gray.”

entegegenwartigung:

Promotional photo for “Shades of Gray.”

whitlockienterprisespresents:

Bayliss: For him, whatever was happening, it was like an inconvenience, see, I wasn’t real Frank, I wasn’t a real person. And he never saw me. He never really looked at me, ever.

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TV Show Meme

5 Male Characters (1/5)

Tim Bayliss (Kyle Secor) - Homicide: Life on the Street

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Tim Bayliss, still the most rounded, complete character I’ve ever seen. Though he lopes into that squadroom full of fresh-faced rookie naivete, all that precious idealism is shaken out of him by the end of the first episode, and it is quickly evident that young Bayliss is carrying a hefty amount of emotional baggage around with him. This is not your standard-issue stoic manpain, to be revealed a few episodes in for easy sympathy points and an obvious story arc. It is instead - as with anything on this show - more devastatingly real, repressed, internalised, remaining unconfronted beneath the surface and infecting everything. Bayliss isn’t ready to drag that baggage into the light and start rummaging around, and even when he is, there’s nothing simple or painless about that process. He is a character who grows and changes in slow, organic, yet wholly unexpected ways. Each revelation comes as a surprise, while simultaneously we realise that the signs were there all along; we should have seen this coming. It’s all been there since the beginning, if only we were willing to recognise it. There is a tragic inevitability to it all, a harsh reality and a guilty sense of society’s collective failure.

That is not to suggest that Bayliss is nothing but six feet and five inches of dark secrets. He may be burdened by – and constantly reminded of – the past, but he is resolutely trying not to live in it; to strike forward, to hone his craft and live up to the standards of his fellow detectives, to be all he can be. The extent to which he is still a mystery to himself makes him in some ways his own worst enemy, and the hopes he clings to so tenaciously are chimerical concepts at best, a misguided American dream that life refuses to bear out. Bayliss is not a fool. He’s just trying to make sense out of chaos.