Season One, Episode One:”Hill Street Station”
written by Michael Kozoll & Steven Bochco
directed by Robert Butler
original airdate: Thursday, January 15, 1981
First rewatch note: This particular installment may feel a little TWOP-y and overlong, but rest assured it’s only because we’re introducing a lot of common series tropes. Expect future posts to be shorter. I hope. (Or, if you think this is just peachy, feel free to let me know.)
Roll Call: 6:53 AM. Unlike most episodes, the roll call doesn’t begin with Phil at the lectern, but as will be the usual nature it does start near the end of Phil’s morning agenda, with item 14: a bunch of kids ripping off social security checks. We see the usual chaos of morning roll call for the first time, with the camera darting about to focus on various cops paying various levels of attention to their desk sergeant; as a device, this will usually just be a red herring but will sometimes indicate guest star officers who have relevant plot points in the episode.
Here in our pilot, however, the primary targets of the camera’s attention are LaRue and Washington (as soon as the scene opens), followed after a couple of brief stops at regular extras including a blonde female officer who is never credited, but appears regularly and actually does some fine facial acting every single time, then Hill, and then his partner Renko, asleep with his cowboy boots up and his cowboy hat covering his face. Phil, handing out papers, removes said hat on his way to the lectern.
Item 15 is a purse-snatcher, a tall black man wearing a long blonde wig and a blue cocktail dress. Item 16 brings the mood down: there were two gang homicides the previous night, and revenge will obviously be in the offing. We get our first glimpse of Detective Lamonica, who will appear briefly through the four pilot episodes before disappearing. The final item: a directive from Divisional Commander Swanson (unseen in this episode, but will appear later) ordering all officers to present all non-approved weaponry to their sergeant’s inspection… leading to a barrage of knives, back-up pieces, and other articles of destruction being unveiled. All of which Phil then summarily ignores, wrapping Roll Call up with his famous catchphrase, “Let’s be careful out there.” And after the officers disperse, we get a Hill/Renko scene which bleeds into our first meeting with Mick Belker, about to eat a pimp, and our first glimpse of khaki officer Leo Schnitz as he brings some ladies of the night to cells for accomodation. And then the opening credits roll.
Calletano’s first appearance involves breaking up a scuffle between a hispanic girl and boy, threatening them with a psychiatrist, and then we finally meet Frank Furillo, upbraiding Phil over a warrant with the wrong address which resulted in Officer Earps smacking the resident with a board. He’s on the phone with a woman who apparently wants to set up tours of the precinct for neighborhood kids, leading to Furillo observing that there’s probably “not a kid in the precinct who hasn’t interfaced with the police experience.” The “interface” line will be a running gag for Phil as the series progresses.
Next up, Joyce Davenport arrives, drawing the attention of a smitten J.D. LaRue (as well as the rest of the station; interestingly, even Lucy Bates has an unspoken editorial comment). She marches into Frank’s office, ready to kill; he client, due in court in 45 minutes, is missing. He orders her out, and that sets up a meeting with LaRue next to the coffee. He immediately, and sleazily, hits on her. She’s rescued by Calletano, informing her that Furillo’s ready to see her. Turns out her client has been “misplaced”. After some bickering, she departs, leaving Phil and Ray to comment on her pulchritude (with Ray claiming if she were 20 pounds heavier she’d be perfect).
After that, a detainee breaks loose and starts trashing the station. After some tumult, Belker launches into the fray, and is about to take a bite out of the perp’s ankle before Furillo stops him. That sets up another running gag; Mick’s (in)famous on the Hill for his unorthodox combat style. After some more of LaRue trying to suck up to Davenport, we cut to Hill and Renko in their cruiser, discussing their love lives before coming on a robbery in progress. After a warning, a young Hispanic steps into the door and fires a shotgun into the side of the car they’re using for cover, and we cut to the station launching into action. Speaking to command, Phil explains they don’t know if it’s a hostage situation… and they won’t until they are “interfaced with the perpetrators”.
It IS a hostage situation, which means we get our first meeting with Henry Goldblume, trying to get a phone line into the bodega. At the scene, we also get the first appearance of “the pickpocket”, who will be a recurring gag character throughout the first half of the series. Belker tries to take him down with words, then has to give chase. Next, we meet Detective Alf Chesley for the first time as he talks with Goldblume; here, he’s not yet named. They’re interrupted by the phone patch, at which point Goldblume starts speaking with the teenaged Hector Ruiz. Hector’s first demand is to talk to Jesus Martinez. Goldblume doesn’t appear to know who he is, for which Hector mocks him.
Back at the station, Howard Hunter makes his debut, trying to talk Frank into letting him just go in and make an example of everyone. He even challenges Furillo’s manhood, which Frank just lets slide off his back. As soon as Howard leaves, a much more dangerous annoyance arrives: Fay Furillo, the Captain’s ex-wife. Seems his alimony check bounced. She blasts him with both barrels right in front of Phil and Ray, completely oblivious. This sets off an extended character sequence; Frank and Ray talk obliquely about the effect of The Job on relationships, while Phil demonstrates his kindness and sensitivity while talking to Fay and, in the process, exposits some of his own backstory involving his ex… and then reveals his relationship with a high school senior. That sets Fay off into tears again, for reasons we’ll understand better later.
Belker, having corralled the pickpocket, returns. Here we’re treated to the first of probably 100 scenes through the series where Mick is booking in a perp and gets interrupted by a phone call from his mother. Back to Frank and Fay, where we discover that Frank Junior’s psychiatrist… is now Fay’s boyfriend, and Frank’s not too thrilled about that, because it is sort of skeevy. They’re interrupted by the arrival of Jesus Martinez, leader of the Diablos gang.
Officer Sneed arrives with food for Frank and Jesus (out of ribs, hope chicken is okay). Phil doesn’t like Jesus much, it seems. Frank negotiates with Jesus, and for the first time we see Frank getting angry about something. It’s here where we first realize how important face is to the gang members in the precinct, who are mostly inclined to trust Frank but can’t just let him dictate. Jesus wants a squad car to take his mom to a doctor’s appointment in rival territory, to which Frank acquiesces. That gets Jesus on the phone to Hector… and then the party line conversation goes awry as Goldblume makes a hash of things by annoying Hector, which results in Jesus hanging up on Hector angrily and infuriating him even more. And then Hunter gets on the phone and starts talking about what he’d like to do while Hector is listening, and everything goes south. But Frank manages to calm things down.
LaRue reappears, with a scheme. He calls Davenport to tell her that he found her missing client. (Spoiler: he hasn’t.) Then Hill and Renko respond to a domestic involving an angry wife with a knife, a husband hiding in a closet, and a half-naked stepdaughter. Hill defuses the situation and settles matters with Solomon-like wisdom. But then, with their squad car having been stolen and all the pay phones on the street broken, they have to go find one… and walk into an abandoned storefront, interrupt a drug deal, and are both shot down.
Furillo arrives on-scene at the bodega, where it’s sort of a chaotic clownshow with helicopters, dozens of weapons aimed at one doorway, and a crowd which is basically split between cheering for Hector and cheering for the police. Furillo, unarmed, walks right up to the door while Hector has his shotgun trained right on his test. Hunter’s team comes in the back, Hector and Juan come out the front, and everyone starts shooting everything. Furillo covers the two teenagers on the sidewalk with his own body during the fusillade.
Afterward, he’s mad as hell. So’s the bodega owner, who unloads on Hunter for basically blowing up his business. Hunter’s response: “Run a check on that man’s immigration status.” What a guy, Howard.
Davenport arrives, asking Phil where her client is. Phil is clueless, but Davenport spots LaRue and is onto the game. She subtly mocks him before giving him a cup of hot coffee. In the crotch. In Frank’s office, Phil apprises him of what he’s missed since leaving for the hostage scene: 25 (!) calls from Fay, and Hill and Renko are missing with Belker and Lamonica out looking for them.
Cut to a residential bathroom, where Davenport is brushing her teeth and ranting about her experiences at the station that day. She refers to the police as a Nazi occupation force and says there’s not a cop on the Hill who shouldn’t be brought up on charges. And then she climbs into bed, where we discover the lover she’s speaking to… is Furillo.
Out on the street, Belker and Lamonica discover a leg through a busted door. The missing patrolmen have been found. Back in bed, Frank’s beeper goes off, Phil informing him that Hill and Renko are in intensive care. Joyce comforts Frank. Credits roll.
Look, Pizza Man: “Never in my entire life have I listened so much incompetence covered up by so much unmitigated crap.” Davenport lights Furillo up in their first extended scene, and if you’re completely unaware of the show’s premise it looks like she wants his badge. After you’re aware, it’s hilarious banter.
Would You Prefer Internal Injuries?: “You promised me, Captain! It’s not fair. It’s not fair! Alright, two years ago, I bit off a nose… one lousy nose! I’m branded for life here!” Poor Mick. He’s about to cry during this scene, and it’s a giant flashing light on the dichotomy of his character.
“You wanna sit down there before I knock you down?” is Mick’s invitation to have a seat for the episode; the pickpocket gives his name as Richard T. Wilson. He’ll do much better at giving fake names later. Mick’s phone call from mom regards his 83-year-old dad wanting to go to Florida, and his mom being afraid he’ll have an affair, and also afraid to go with him because she’ll look bad in a bathing suit. As per usual, also, Mick gets to yell at the perp for the perp’s reaction to Mick’s side of the phone call. It’s a theme.
I’m Unarmed: “How the hell can I create an ambience of trust under these conditions?” It’s weird that Henry has no idea who Jesus Martinez is, as he’ll later be portrayed as the lead gang liason detective. Chalk it up to pilot jitters and the need to exposit, but in hindsight the scene would probably have been better without it. One thing Hill Street would actually become known for is just introducing characters cold and letting their stories unfold. Henry also displays his almost-naive earnestness as he talks with Hector on the phone.
My Car!: Hill does a fantastic job taking what could involve arrests and turning it into a good lesson on how to behave. And why did we name this header My Car? Because they walk out of the tenement and their squad car is missing. Renko loses it, Bobby tries to remind him that they “lose a couple of cars a month”, and then disaster strikes.
Judas Priest!: “I don’t like the term EATer, Frank. It’s offensive!” That’s Howard Hunter’s first line on the show, and it demonstrates how bizarre his mind is. (EAT is the show’s terminology which correlates to SWAT, and stands for Emergency Action Team.) We’re introduced here to Hunter’s disgust with Goldblume’s role within the precinct, as well as anything remotely resembling peaceful outcomes when he could just go blow everyone up. The character would be terrifying if he weren’t so incompetently absurd. And you’ll note Frank’s blase indifference to Howard’s lunacy; indeed, Furillo is and will remain teetering on the edge between amusement and horror whenever he’s alone with Hunter.
Mano a Mano: We meet Lucy in this episode, but she has no actual lines (just an annoyed grunt).
I’m Good For It: “It’s a bad scene. I’m sorry you had to see it come down.” LaRue, sleazying up to Davenport again after the fight in the station. She immediately cuts him down, observing he did absolutely nothing during the brawl.
What’s Up, Lover?: Washington doesn’t get a lot of play, but he stands as LaRue’s sounding board as he outlines his absolutely stupid plan to get Davenport to go on a date. “Tell you what, slick. If she turns you down, you can take me.” Neal knows what’s up, and how that was going to end; “Your place or mine, baby?” is Neal’s last line to LaRue on the hour.
Not Now, Fay: Fay barges into the middle of a hostage crisis to harange Frank about a bounced check and their son’s 102-degree fever. She is utterly unconcerned about the fact that Furillo is (a) at work and (b) in the middle of a situation which by any stretch of the imagination is more important than her problems. This is a theme which will continue until the pair finally achieve a sort of equlibrium later in the series.
The reason for Fay’s tearful breakdown after Phil tells her about his high school girlfriend, of course, is that Frank left Fay for Joyce — a much younger and prettier woman. We can’t assume that “younger and prettier” is the actual reason Frank left Fay, of course; she’s depicted in a fashion which makes it hard to argue that Frank left her because he simply couldn’t deal with her anymore. (We should also note, though, that Frank’s infinite patience with other annoyances does lend some weight to the “younger and prettier” theory.) The character will become more sympathetic, but here we are shown a woman who has no sense of boundaries or rationality, and it’s maddening.
Central Booking: Jonathan Dasteel (LaMonica) made the first of five appearances, as noted all in the first five episodes. These five were his only credited appearances anywhere; he passed away in 1997. Also appearing in only the first five hours was Gary Van Ormand, playing Officer Sneed. Van Ormand had a few minor TV roles prior to Hill Street, and none after. Gary Grubbs, who would later have significant recurring roles as Captain Wiecek on the short-loved For Love and Honor, Harlin Polk on Will & Grace, Gordon Bullit on The O.C., and Richard Desaulet on Treme, makes his only Hill Street appearance as Earps. Veronica Redd, Richard Wright, and Chris Doyle also make their only appearances in incidental roles.
Paul Michael appeared in a brief role as “Proprietor”; he’d go on to play T.J. Strickland in the series Spatz. He’d turn up three more times in the first season.
Several other actors appeared in equally minor roles, and would all return later in the series in different roles: Luisa Leschin, who’d later briefly play Anna Rodriguez on Beverly Hills, 90210, would return in “Film at Eleven”; Heshimu Cumbuka appears as a pimp, and also appears as a pimp in the season two finale “Invasion of the Third World Body Snatchers”; Eleanor McCoy (Jonette) would return in that same episode as Coretta; Vernon Washington (William) returns in the season six premiere, “Blues in the Night”; and Ronald G. Joseph — credited in this episode as Ron Godines — would be back in “Hearts and Minds”, the season two opener.
Panchito Gomez, who has a long credit list in Spanish-speaking productions, makes the first of five appearances as Hector Ruiz. His later appearances will be critical storylines; this appearance is just as a regular ol’ perp. Jay Moreno, uncredited, plays Juan, his accomplice; he’d also appear once more in the same role a few weeks later. Don Cervantes appears as “Street Kid”, who might be the same character he’d play three more times in the first season, Nemo Rodriguez.
Nick Savage appears as “the pickpocket”, who always gives Belker a new name when he’s brought in; we don’t discover his real name until late in season four, his 12th and final appearance.
Gerry Black makes the first of 14 appearances as Detective Lieutenant Alf Chesley. As noted, he’s unnamed here but will be given a name next episode. Black is a long-time character actor whose other major role was as George Barksdale on King of Queens.
A couple of major names appeared in the episode. Steven Bauer, who’d later portray Don Eladio on Breaking Bad and Avi on Ray Donovan, appears (uncredited) as Officer Fuentes; he’ll return in the next episode, credited under his real name, Rocky Echevarria. Even more notable: the Hispanic kid Ray dresses down in his first appearance was none other than Andy Garcia, who would of course go on to several noteworthy film roles before portraying Terry Benedict in Ocean’s Eleven and its sequels. He’d also appear again in 1984 as a different character.
The most important appearance, however, is that of Trinidad Silva as Jesus Martinez. Silva would appear in 28 episodes, usually in a very critical role. Indeed, he’s so integral to the feel of the show that I was startled that he’d only been in 28 episodes. Martinez is the only character who, despite being portrayed by someone who is never in the main credit roll, appears at least once in every season of the show’s run; (David Hirschfeld (Leo Schnitz) and Jon Cypher (Chief Fletcher Daniels) also appear in all seven seasons, but each will end up spending one season in the main credits.)
Rap Sheet: Robert Butler, a veteran television director, helmed the pilot. It wasn’t the only famous pilot Butler was in charge of: he also directed “The Cage”, the original pilot episode of Star Trek, as well as the Moonlighting pilot. He directed all five of the initial order episodes, as well as a sixth episode in season two. Butler received the Emmy for Oustanding Directing in a Drama Series and the Directors Guild of America Award for Oustanding Directing in a Drama for this episode.
The episode also earned Steven Bochco and Michael Kozoll the Emmy for Outstanding Writing in a Drama Series and the Writer’s Guild of America Award for Television Episodic Drama. That makes “Hill Street Station” the only episode in television history to have won both the writing and directing Emmys along with the WGA and DGA awards. The teleplay also earned an Edgar Allan Poe Award for Best Teleplay from a Series.
William Cronjager won an Emmy for Oustanding Cinemetography for a Series, and the Oustanding Achievement in Film Sound Editing went to Sam Horta, Bob Cornett, Denise Horta, and Eileen Horta. Jeffery L. Goldstein and Joseph A. Armetta were nominated for the Oustanding Art Direction for a Series Emmy while Ray Daniels and A. David Marshall were nominated for Oustanding Achievement in Film Editng for a Series and Mike Post was nominated for Oustanding Achievement in Music Composition for a Series (Dramatic Underscore). Post’s main title theme actually reached #10 on the Billboard Hot 100 that year; Post was also responsible for the title themes of The Rockford Files, L.A. Law, The A-Team, Magnum P.I., Law & Order, and many, many more.
That’s four Emmys and three nominations for just the pilot episode, never mind the season-wide honors the show achieved for which this episode was part of the submission reel.
We didn’t discuss Kozoll in the introductory post, which was probably a mistake. Kozoll co-created the show with Bochco, and had worked with him previously on Paris; he had also been a staff writer on Delvecchio, which as we noted in the cast intro post included James B. Sikking, Charles Haid, and Michael Conrad in the cast. Kozoll left the series after the first season, wrote the screen play for the first Rambo flick, First Blood, and then all but disappeared from the business save for a story credit in the Michael J. Fox/James Woods vehicle The Hard Way in 1991.
Famously, Renko was supposed to die, and that’s why his credit came at the end with the “featuring” tag. But the producers were so taken with Haid’s performance that they got him to stick around, and thus Renko survived, but thanks to his contract his special credit remained in place, leaving him the equal of Veronica Hamel in the pecking order.
Verdict: So many things going on in this pilot, which are covered above in one way or another. With the exception of some slightly heavy-handed exposition which the show would quickly bury under the rug, the story is simply allowed to flow. We meet people when we’re supposed to meet them, and when exposition is actually required, it’s done as subtly as possible. An example: when Fay first bursts into Frank’s office, we’re finally given Phil and Ray’s names and ranks (after already having seem them in action) by way of Frank sarcastically introducing them to her as a means of reminding her that this is his place of work and he’s interrupting.
Our introduction to each of the major characters is handled well. They all have roles to play over the course of the series, and that’s what we get in the pilot, with one notable half-exception. There is no sign, other than his near-tears reaction to being told not to bite the guy in the brawl, that Belker is anything but an animal. The first of our running gag phone conversations with his mother does help a bit, but we’ll quickly get to much more direct depictions of Belker’s humanity and sensitivity.
But with the exception of Belker (and the mostly-absent Bates), everyone else comes out of the pilot with a well-defined background already in place. Even Goldblume, who we learn nothing at all about, and Hunter, who is just a cartoon in the early stages of the series, at least have their roles set up. It’s later where we’ll see the significant character growth in those two.
Yes, even Hunter.
One negative I have with the episode, and it’s partially die to misremembering how it went down: for years before rewatching it, I was convinced that Hill and Renko were gunned down at the end of the episode. Had that been the case, it would have been a good ending, but I don’t object to it happening at the 9:40-minute commercial break. However, the final few minutes of the episode — from Phil informing Furillo that the pair are missing to Phil telling Frank they’re in the ICU — is somewhat disjointed, largely because you’ve got the same two characters both setting up and knocking down the situation, but there’s not enough space between the two. The two scenes are literally only separated by Davenport’s rant and the brief scene of Belker and Lamonica walking down a dark street looking into doorways.
In that respect, I think the Hill/Renko plotline might have been better served if they’d been shot even earlier in the episode, with Frank being aware they were missing before going to the bodega.
But that’s a really minor and petty complaint, and that it’s the only thing I can even come up with to criticize about the episode is testament to its effectiveness.
And obviously, the contemporary critics agreed, given the accolades the episode received at year’s end. It can’t be understated. No single episode of any drama series has ever won as much contemporary acclaim. So the question is: how does it hold up?
Perfectly, in my estimation. The show as a whole, but especially this episode, works via dialogue and subtle facial expression. You have to watch it to really get it, but Travanti and Hamel especially — the former in his scenes with Hunter and Fay, the latter in her scenes with LaRue — just nail it.
Most importantly, though, at the end of this episode you care about the characters, most of them at least. Bates, Goldblume, and Washington remain utter ciphers this early, and it might be stretching it to say the viewer cares about Hunter and Fay, but it’s essentially accurate. And with a cast of 13 main characters, it’s hard to get them all in within the first 49 minutes.
Final score: 10.
Next week: “Presidential Fever”. The President is coming, and the Best Actress in a Drama Series winner arrives on set.
