Season One, Episode Four:”Can World War III Be an Attitude?”
written by Michael Kozoll & Steven Bochco
directed by Robert Butler
original airdate: Saturday, January 24, 1981
“Previously on Hill Street Blues…”
Roll Call: Item 12: Phil is mad. Like, schoolteacher with an unruly class mad. After regaining everyone’s attention, the rapists at Saint James Park are still a problem. He assigns a couple more pairs of patrolmen to the park, and then orders everyone to get themselves into presentable condition for the President’s visit before dismissing the rowdy crew. We follow Hill and Renko as they banter, and then roll credits.
When we return, the pair are at a barbershop to get presentable, and exchange banter with “Slick”, a pimp who they know damn well is a pimp but since he’s not actually doing any pimping he’s just a citizen. Afterward, they’re making fun of Slick’s car… and freak out when the car appears to start itself, ducking for cover and drawing down. Here in 2016, you might expect a gag about automatic ignition. In 1981, it means they’ve just nabbed a guy named Floyd Stazwicz (“Malibu”) trying to hotwire the pimpmobile. Slick comes out, yelling, as Bobby’s engaged in a futile effort to start their patrol unit. Malibu, already in cuffs, tells Bobby to pop the hood, and fixes it. Hello, B-plot.
Furillo and Goldblume are going over Presidential plans with Jerry Mullinex and Dave Bean (the latter uncredited and with no lines). Phil enters to complain: Grace Gardner is back. Frank tells him he’s got to deal with it. Mullinex announces they’re going to go do a dry run of the Presidential route; Frank’s hesitant, but Mullinex points out to Frank that he’s black and he knows how things are in the projects. As they leave, J.D. arrives to turn in his badge and gun.
Frank’s not sure J.D. isn’t dirty, and things get tense as Ray wanders in. J.D.’s got another problem; he’s behind on his union dues, so the union wants nothing to do with providing him counsel. That means LaRue’s going to have to go hire someone on his own. As he heads out, Frank asks if Washington’s clean, which just pisses LaRue off to no end. But for what it’s worth, Ray believes J.D.
Hill walks into the squad to talk to Phil about Malibu, who’s out in the motor pool fixing everything in sight. For obvious reasons, Bobby doesn’t want to book the guy. Phil takes the matter under advisement… and hands Hill the keys to his Buick, because why not? And then Sneed wants Malibu to take a look at his unit, but Phil pulls rank. Oh, boy.
A small gang gets hauled into the squad in one direction, Ray walks past talking in Spanish with a lady merchant in another, and we focus on Phil and Grace. Lucy wanders past and knows what’s up. Phil is so, so mad, and Grace is just being regally superior. Seriously, Phil’s gonna have a stroke.
Hunter wanders in, and deprived of the opportunity to be indulged by Frank, he sets his sights on Lucy. He’s cluelessly horrible here, and Lucy is aghast. But he’s not trying to get into her pants; he wants her to join the Emergency Action Team. He handles the offer so poorly, though, that she storms out to angrily file paperwork. Phil wanders by, Lucy asks him if he thinks she looks like a tight end, and Phil totally misunderstands, thinking she’s asking if she has a “tight end”. Grace is watching all this, as Phil is really gentle and soothing to try and settle Lucy down. (Phil’s still a little creepy here, but he’s so earnest and paternal that it somehow still makes Lucy feel better.)
LaRue goes to visit Neal, which he’s not supposed to be doing. We meet Neal’s girlfriend, Jill Thomas. He tries to get Neal to at least admit he’s got his back, but Neal’s having none of it… because no matter how you slice it, J.D. still lied about the “suspect” getting away and took the money, and Neal’s going to have to testify to that. J.D. then goes to visit his brother-in-law, Rob, to try and get a loan to cover an attorney’s retainer. Rob insults and rebuffs him while trying to get J.D. to come work for him.
Back at the station, Malibu’s repairing a light fixture that’s never worked. Frank says he’s got to be charged.. and also asks if he can go fix the toilet. Malibu actually comes up with a clever idea on his own: maybe he could be “sentenced” to work at the Hill and fix everything. Phil points out it’s up to the courts, then asks if he should sell his Buick. See, everything comes back around.
Neal arrives at the station (in a suit!) to talk to Furillo. He tells Frank that if J.D. had taken a payoff, he’d have offered him a split, which freaks Frank out, causing him to ask if this has ever happened before. But Frank quickly figures out Neal’s just looking for something to say that might exonerate his partner, and says he doesn’t want Neal getting dirty in the process. And then Ray walks in with the worst news Frank’s getting all day: the Presidential visit has been cancelled due to a crisis in the Persian Gulf.
Frank and Neal head downtown for J.D.’s hearing, where J.D. gets to sit and stare at a silent but sneering Diconstanzo… who’s probably going to say whatever Macafee wants him to say. Macafee testifies, and spews a complete load of manure. Frank smells every drop of it, and immediately knows LaRue is innocent when Macafee suggests Washington might have been in on it and then ascribes almost the exact same words to LaRue that he himself had used to LaRue. As Macafee departs and Neal’s called in to testify, Frank calls the station and discovers that war has broken out in the streets in the face of the cancelled visit; at the same time, Hill and Renko (and others) are hauling in gang members, including Manny Pagano, the leader of the Street Lords.
While he’s fixing the toilet (and talking to Goldblume’s stray dog, who’s still here), he discovers a ventilation shaft and begins to make an escape. Back downtown, Joyce is meeting with Frank, who’s after her for some help with LaRue. She’s not amenable, because remember the pilot episode?
Frank calls in to check on the situation and gets Henry, who’s running command. Things are getting really bad, and Henry’s concerned that the Street Lords might even assault the station to extricate Pagano. Howard interjects himself, saying Howard things, and then he and Henry get in a loud argument which causes Frank to give up and hang up the phone… just as J.D. and Neal exit the hearing room and tell him that LaRue’s case is being sent to the prosecutor.
Back at the station, Henry is briefing Ray and Phil when suddenly the power goes out. They assume it’s the gangs preparing to storm the station, even as Pagano is going berserk in booking threatening everyone’s lives. The phones are out, too, and Phil asserts that they are under siege. Ray orders barricades, and heads out a window to go look for the terminal boxes and scout the situation. Cops cover him with rifles, and the gang members in holding taunt everyone. Grace falls into Phil’s arms melodramatically, Ray makes it to a radio car to contact division, everything’s going to hell in a handbasket, the ceiling starts to cave in and Phil screams “They’re coming in through the roof!” and someone else screams “They’re coming in!” Henry deadpans, “You mean no one locked the door?”… and Frank strolls into the station house with Washington — and Parker, the President’s press secretary, who’s mysteriously now found time to show up — just as the lights come back on.
And then Malibu falls through the ceiling. He’d gotten distracted while trying to escape, you see, because he saw “the main junction is wired all wrong, man, so I had to fix it, right? And your phones, man, your phones!” OCD is a terrible thing.
So why’s Parker here? The solution to the problem. They gather the gang leaders together for a summit, and the President addresses them personally over a phone rigged to a loudspeaker, by Malibu of course. Meanwhile, Phil is on the phone breaking a date with his high school paramour to go out on a “working dinner” with Grace. Oh, dear.
And at home, Frank and Joyce are talking about Malibu. Seems his original booking slip got lost in all the chaos, so they couldn’t hold him… but Frank charged him with attempted escape and malicious vandalism. Joyce chides him, but Frank offers a trade: he’ll cut Malibu loose if she’ll take LaRue’s case. She’s onto him, though. She can already tell Frank let Malibu go already (although he promised to come back tomorrow to repair the ceiling, because, again, OCD). There’s more bathtime banter, and then we fade to black and roll credits.
Look, Pizza Man: “LaRue, huh? Why does ‘unwanted entry’ come to mind?” It’s not so weird seeing Davenport being so dismissive of a potential client this early in the series, but if you’ve already watched the entire series before and are rewatching it’s a little jarring. Joyce has, for good reason, no doubt whatsover that LaRue’s probably getting what he deserves. She’s also very unwilling to mix business with pleasure, and she feels Frank’s asking her to conflict with their interests here.
Would You Prefer Internal Injuries?: Belker is mysteriously absent even though he’s got a dangling plotline; he is referred to, however, as being out on the streets chasing down leads regarding gang movements.
I’m Unarmed: “Sure. Teach ’em a lesson. Protective reaction, hit ’em with napalm!” When Frank calls in to talk to him he’s exceptionally calm and in control, and his expression when Hunter enters and takes over the phone is priceless. And then he drops that bomb in the middle of Hunter trying to tell Frank he should turn the EAT loose on the civilians.
My Car!: Gee, Bobby and Andy sure got over that near-divorce awfully quick. Their pre-credit scene, where they make fun of one another for getting older, has them back in their expected place as BFFs. There’s a subtle gag where Renko takes the mirrored shades off some guy standing in the precinct house to look at his own receding hairline. And then there’s the scenes at the barbershop, which we covered above and will get into more below.
Judas Priest!: Hunter is so inept at interpersonal relationships that his attempts to recruit Bates for the EAT team — which, you know, would be a totally cool and progressive act if anyone else had handled it — first comes across as blatant sexual harassment. He wants to talk about “You. Me. Us!” and tries to drag Bates into the men’s room, for chrissake. And then, when he finally explains what the hell he’s trying to accomplish, he doesn’t even hide the fact that he’s trying to fill a quota, which is of course insulting. And then he hits the trifecta by explaining why he’s interested in Bates by comparing her to a man — a football player, no less.
Mano a Mano: Lucy finally has things happen this episode. Yay! “Thanks, Wally. Feel the same way about you. I’d feel a lot better if you took your hand out from under my skirt.” That was in response to Wally Hingle telling Lucy he wants her to know how much he’s enjoyed serving with her if they don’t get out of the station alive. The bland, matter-of-fact way in which Lucy shuts this bit of harassment down is totally ’80s.
That’s at the end of the episode, of course. At the beginning, she gets yelled at by Phil for not handing out papers to the class, and then she’s the victim of Hunter’s clueless and accidental double-entendres (in the scene containing the line which gave this section its header). The thing is, at first she’s actually feeling complimented by Hunter, until he explains why he wants her on the EAT.
I’m Good For It: LaRue’s entire arc this episode is being alone. Honestly, nobody — not even Neal — is really convinced he’s completely innocent. Ray thinks he’s telling the truth about being set up, but when he says that it’s almost like there’s an unspoken “this time” at the end of the sentence. We see LaRue how other people see him: good at police work, but not a good cop and also a failure as a human being. Even Neal’s girlfriend refuses to answer him when he asks if she believes him.
The scene with LaRue’s brother-in-law, however, sort of works as a turning point. Remember, last episode J.D. was complaining about what a condescending ass Rob is, and the fact that we get confirmation on camera this episode works in LaRue’s favor.
What’s Up, Lover?: Neal’s really pissed at LaRue. He’s not sure his partner hasn’t been on the take behind his back, which drives him crazy not just because it makes him look dirty, but because he didn’t see it. And he’s not going to lie to cover LaRue’s ass. This is our first real glimpse into Washington’s personality, and over the course of the series we’ll see that he may just be one of the best and most noble cops in the city.
Not Now, Fay: Fay does not appear in this episode, even via allusion.
Central Booking: Reprising their roles in this episode are Barbara Babcock, Dan Hedaya, Trinidad Silva, David Caruso, Bobby Ellerbee, Gerry Black, Jonathan Dasteel, Gary Van Ormand, Jake Mitchell, and Guillermo San Juan. The three minor gang leaders all make their final season one appearances, but all would return in season two; Ellerbee and San Juan in “The World According to Freedom” and Caruso in “Personal Foul”. Everyone else will be back next episode. Lou Joffred and Charles Seaverns also reprise, but they’re making their final appearances.
Jorge Cervara as Slick, Adam Wade as the internal affairs officer who questions Macafee, Robert Do’Qui as Mullinex, and Roma Alvarez as the Spanish merchant all make their sole appearances on the show. Wade has the distinction of being the first black person to host a network game show, having emceed Musical Chairs in 1975; Do’Qui went on to play Sergeant Reed in the first three RoboCop films.
“Mace” may be the late Paul Mace, but the evidence is a bit unclear on this. They have separate IMDB pages, but Paul Mace’s WIkipedia page claims the Hill Street role, so they’re probably the same person. Mace plays Pagano for the first time. (It’s tricky to figure this out, as he’s not addressed by name directly but Henry does mention him by name on the phone with Frank.) He’ll make five appearances, and will next appear along with Ellerbee and San Juan in “The World According to Freedom”.
Malibu was played by Charles Fleischer, who had previously had a recurring role on Welcome Back, Kotter as Carvelli. He’s an immediately recognizable “that guy” after a long career in guest-star roles, but his biggest claim to fame didn’t even involve a camera: he was the voice of Roger Rabbit. He also played Terry — the guy who puts the idea of buying the sports almanac in Marty’s head — in Back to the Future II.
Louis Giambalvo appears for the first time as “Rob”, J.D.’s brother-in-law, and will get a full name (Rob Nelson) in the following episode. He’ll appear in every calendar year of the show’s run except 1985, and although it’s only eight appearances in total that’s chronologically the longest tenure of any recurring character on the show save for Jesus Martinez and Grace Gardner, and that’s only because they were brought back for swan songs in the series’ penultimate episode. Giambalvo actually had a pretty robust career as a TV character actor, also holding down recurring roles on the Devlin Connection, Oh Madeline, and Knots Landing during his run on Hill Street, and later doing a run on Anything But Love. Liz, his secretary and possible side piece, is not credited despite having lines, and I’ve had no luck figuring out who portrayed her. She’ll also appear in the next episode.
Finally, Jill Thomas was played by the elegant Lynn Whitfield, who’d reprise the role twice, next in “Fecund Hand Rose” later in the season. This was Whitfield’s very first screen credit; she’d later go on to fame and win an Emmy for Oustanding Lead Actress in a Miniseries of Movie for her starring role in HBO’s The Josephine Baker Story and be a very frequent nominee for various BET, Black Reel, and Image Awards throughout her career.
Rap Sheet: The absence of Bruce Weitz and Barbara Bosson marks the first time main cast members fail to appear in an episode. Both were still in the main credits, however. This will occur again next episode as James B. Sikking isn’t seen, but won’t recur after that until the middle of season three when Veronica Hamel misses an episode. The reason for the rash of absences during the early run, of course, was due to the series being picked up from pilot with the next four episodes being rushed; Weitz, Bosson, and Sikking simply had other commitments during the shooting of episodes four and five.
Verdict: Aside from LaRue’s travails — and even those are laced with a tinge of black humor — this is pretty much a straight up comedy episode. And that’s what makes the final act work: we’ve had 40 minutes of jokes interrupted by LaRue angst which we can’t really feel stressed about, and then all of a sudden we have gripping drama as the station appears to be under attack. When it all turns out to be nothing, you’re left with a one-hour comedy.
The scene where Malibu fixes Hill and Renko’s cruiser is a treasure. There’s so many subtle little things going on. Slick’s prostitutes are playing nurse tech, handing Malibu his tools. Slick and the ladies are watching, enraptured, along with Hill and Renko while Malibu works. He doesn’t just fix the car, he fixes it so well that when Bobby starts the car and puts it in reverse, he accidentally burns rubber — because he’s so used to the car being a dead fish, obviously. And then, when they’re about to leave, Slick’s blonde white girl is putting Renko’s leather jacket on him as if he’s royalty and she’s a handmaiden.
All of this is pretty subtle, aside from the screeching tires. It’s just a fantastic scene, and the killer is that the actual backbone of the scene is Malibu chattering and telling us his life story, not the car repair. In another universe, Charles Fleischer joined the cast because he was just so perfect as the centerpiece for this episode… but that probably would have harmed the show in the end.
The scene with Hunter and Bates is also great. It doesn’t do much for Lucy; she’s the passive portion of this scene, her decisive exit notwithstanding. But we see that Hunter isn’t entirely an idiot. His reasons for wanting Bates to join the EAT are actually perfectly valid, despite the fact that he’s probably only doing it because he’s been told to get a woman on the squad. Faced with that, he really did find the right target, at least from his perspective.
But we see just how socially inept the guy is when he tries to make the offer. Hunter’s not dropping innuendos to be clever; he’s being honest, in a way that only Howard Hunter can be. Had Furillo or Esterhaus approached Bates, she’d be walking around in stormtrooper gear for the next seven seasons. But they didn’t, and now Lucy has turned down a huge pay raise for a legitimate job because of it, she also thinks Hunter’s a creep.
Well, he is, but you know what I mean.
It should probably be noted that with the exception of the newly-introduced Pagano, all the gang leaders merely appear at the end of the episode to hear the President’s address and none have actual lines. This marks the only time they were brought in solely to look pretty.
All in all, this is a great episode that misses very few beats. There are things one can rightfully criticize, all of which involved scenes with Lucy Bates. But unlike some other shows where this rampant sexism and harassment is just handwaved, Hill Street deals with it — sometimes bluntly, sometimes very subtly. We see both in this hour, and rather than feeling like Sexist Hollywood it feels like We Get It.
Final score: 9.
Next week: “Double Jeopardy” (or “Dressed to Kill”). Bigamy, philandering, and cops in drag.
