Season One, Episode Eight: “Up in Arms”
story by Anthony Yerkovich
written by Anthony Yerkovich, Michael Kozoll, and Steven Bochco
directed by Georg Stanford Brown
original airdate: Thursday, February 19, 1981
“Previously on Hill Street Blues…”
Roll Call: Item 9: Phil, with his usual level of amusement, warns the squad that “such on-duty recreating” as has been reported at the “Tung Ho” massage parlor is strictly forbidden. The black van situation is brought up next, and it’s time to get cracking on this one. This time, though, the victim admitted he’d been held up by three prostitutes rather than a bunch of burly dudes who, I dunno, just happened to strip him naked. And then we get Howard Hunter, looking for volunteers to serve as counselors at his summer teen boot camp slash fascist indoctrination facility! Thankfully, we’re saved by the credits…
Henry, who caught the start of Howard’s presentation, is agitated beyond reason. He’s trying to hammer out a letter to Chief Daniels to object to Hunter’s very existence, while Alf Chesley tries to calm him down. Frank wanders by and summons them both, along with Phil and Ray. Frank starts this confab by disclosing his dry cleaner burned down along with four of his suits.
His real problem, however, is an article in the paper regarding the formation of the Decker Avenue Merchant’s Association… which is described as being more a militia than a chamber of commerce. It appears to be all Cynthia Chase’s fault, as it didn’t exist until she got them hyped up following last episode’s supermarket holdup. Frank wants her “managed” while she’s finishing her documentary on the precinct, although subtly.
Lucy hits Phil with a couple of messages, including one from a Kermit Trench. Both Phil and Ray seem unnerved by this, with Ray asking, “Is he out?” And then the Decker Avenue Merchants Association — all of them, probably — arrive with the news crew and a bloodied suspect. Phil asks Mister Viatoro what the deal is, and he wants the suspect arrested for ripping off a fifth from Mister Arcanian’s store and ripping off Mrs. Miles’ cash drawer.
Joyce is looking on, unimpressed, as it appears the merchants are about to give the kid more of what they’ve already given him; Phil gets some uniforms to put the kid in holding. Frank enters the fray, sending Chase and her cameraman to his office and asking Viatoro why he shouldn’t arrest all of them. Viatoro wants the association to be officially sanctioned. Frank sends them all to the briefing room to have a meeting. And, of course, Joyce gives Frank the glare of death. Poor guy never does his job well enough for her.
Hill and Renko are on patrol, discussing Eddie Hoban’s lie detector test. Bobby’s unsure, citing the unreliability. Then they jaw about Renko’s dental appointment before Bobby drops him off… only it’s not a dentist. It’s a shrink, Dr. Davis. Andy mentions Bobby’s new girlfriend, and Davis asks if he’s jealous. No, it’s more that Bobby’s making excuses for Andy and his girlfriend to not meet. Davis mentions maybe Bobby’s scared. The idea that Bobby might not trust him is hard for him to accept.
Washington and LaRue are at a diner (where Harris and Santini are also having lunch). LaRue is totally hung over, and waitress Daphne wants to know if he can keep anything down yet. Hill and Renko wander in and have a seat, and Andy broaches the girlfriend subject by inviting them over for the Celtics game. Harris and Santini come over, and Harris gives Renko some grief… then calls Bobby “booga booga”. Andy almost takes his head off.
Back in Frank’s office, Chase has obviously been cooling her heels for awhile. Meanwhile, Joyce is having a chat with Frank, along with Mister Krinsky… who is complaining of mistreatment at the hands of Harris, and is being accused of pedophilia because he used the bathroom in the park twice in a short span of time. Joyce then steps away with Frank to discuss the kid the Decker folks brought in, and compares Frank’s certitude as to the kid’s guilt with Hector Ruiz. They banter, including Frank informing her of the dry cleaner fire (more below), and then Henry interrupts.
It’s Swanson on the line, and he’s trying to get Frank to “handle” the situation with the DAMA. Frank’s having none of it, pointedly reminding Swanson that policy decisions are not made on the precinct level. But with the news crew there, Frank figures Division will have to make the call as long as he drags his heels. Frank tells Phil to go get some Neighborhood Watch pamphlets, but Phil is totally out of sorts for some reason.
Frank has retreated to his office to deal with Chase, while Joyce looks on with some perturbation evident. We linger for a moment before finally joining the pair, and Frank is reading Chase the riot act. They have a philosophical discussion about cops ignoring the people who are on their side. Chase observes that DAMA isn’t going to be sanctioned. Frank tells her Division wants to reinstitute Neighborhood Watch, and she’s disgusted.
When Chase departs Frank’s office, she heads straight to Joyce and an awkward conversation ensues. Chase asks if Frank’s married, and is quite obviously digging for information. She’s into him. Joyce is cool as a cucumber. Chase leaves, Frank wanders up, and Joyce quite firmly informs him that he will meet her at Charles St. Ives to get new suits at 6:00. And then Ray arrives to drop a bomb: Hoban’s lie detector was inconclusive. They’re setting him free.
We skip over the meeting with DAMA and skip straight to the aftermath. Viatoro is peeved, calling Neighborhood Watch an insult to their intelligence. They’re going to get carry permits and arrest power no matter what Frank says. Andy arrives just as that conversation ends, and Frank summons him and Hill to his office.
Andy’s angry, but that turns to devastation once Frank demonstrates how easily his testimony will be destroyed by Hoban’s lawyer if the case relies only on Andy himself. Frank gives them the rest of the day off. After commercial, they’re in the locker room and Andy’s hurt that Bobby said absolutely nothing in Frank’s office, but he’s more hurt about Bobby keeping him separate from his home life since the shooting. It all finally comes out… and Bobby informs Andy his girlfriend is white, which also explains a lot. Henry interrupts to try and get Andy to consider the possibility that Hoban is innocent. That goes over well.
Swanson barges into Frank’s office to ask him to reassemble the DAMA. Division is going to legitimize them. Frank’s steamed. Swanson is helpless; he points out that it’s Chief Daniels’ decision. “You know how Daniels gets with the media on his back.” And then Swanson avers that he thinks Daniels is going to run for mayor. (Again.) Naturally, when he’s accosted by Chase on leaving Frank’s office, he defers comment to Frank. Politics, man.
Ray answers the phone. It’s for Phil, and Ray thinks it’s Trench. Ray wants to lie and tell Trench that Phil’s gone. As in dead. Phil takes the phone. Then Mick enters with The Pickpocket and a boom box, asking Bates to book him because Mick’s running late for something. Even offers her the collar.
Henry collars Phil, trying to be helpful after hearing from Ray what’s going on. Henry offers Phil a book entitled “Your Kind, My Kind, Humankind”, which just happens to be the title of the next episode. Then Phil’s in the locker room, where he runs into Belker, who also seems to know what’s going on and wants to tag along, even ditching his date with Debbie Kaplan if necessary.
Phil heads out to meet Trench — in an alley! — and it’s a tense situation. Phil’s got a hand on his holster, looking like he’s walking the streets of Fallujah. Trench emerges from a doorway, and Phil is ready for a duel. “I love you, Phil.” Trench has been saved by Jesus, and he’s been trying to reach Phil to apologize. Phil is thunderstruck.
Back at the Hill, Fay arrives at Frank’s request. He wants to get Fay’s help with Hector Ruiz, specifically a recommendation from Harvey. She fires a shot at him for caring more about Hector than his own son, but it goes wide. She agrees to help.
Then Mick arrives at Debbie’s art class, and loses it completely… because she’s posing semi-nude. Surprisingly, Debbie’s turned on by Mick’s outrage. They go to dinner and discuss the situation. Mick is so embarrassed by all of it, including seeing her topless. She makes him a deal: she won’t pose nude anymore if he’ll take her on a stakeout. He tries to tell her it’s dangerous, which just turns her on even more.
Harris and Santini are on the road, and they’re talking about Santini’s personal life. They come across a gray van with prostitutes. Three of them. Santini wants to call it in. Harris is having none of it, and offers one last sleazy exchange as he demands one of the prostitutes lift up her sweater so he can check for concealed weapons. She tells him to do it himself. He approaches, and she whips out a razor, slashing his throat open. The prostitutes flee while Santini catches the falling Harris. He’s dead before he hits the ground.
After nightfall, at the scene. Ray’s there, and Frank arrives. His first move is to check on Santini, who’s completely losing it, unable to even tell Frank what happened. As they sit in the back of the patrol car, we fade to black.
Look, Pizza Man: “Not that brown, tweedy thing with little blue specks?” Joyce, on hearing about Frank’s suits. We bring this up because Phil actually said the exact same thing ten minutes earlier; clearly, nobody liked that suit. Interestingly, Joyce offers to buy Frank some new suits at a swanky storefront; Frank hedges. This is the first real view we get of the financial disparity between the two: Joyce is very well-off, while Frank, crippled by support and alimony, is not. (This raises a question: is “public defender” Joyce Davenport a government employee, or does she have a practice and just does PD work pro bono? And did they even really think that through when designing the character?)
Would You Prefer Internal Injuries?: “Maybe I can rip his stomach out for ya.” Mick’s helpful offer to Phil.
I’m Unarmed: Henry pretty much stabs Andy in the front in the locker room. His attempt to be rational was… poorly timed. And then he noses into Phil’s business too. Usually, Henry’s played as sympathetic; this episode, he’s annoying.
My Car!: “I AM housebroken, Bobby! I haven’t messed on a rug in years!” There’s a lot going on with Andy and Bobby this week, obviously. It’s all so plot-centric that it’s covered above.
Judas Priest!: “Along with our traditional classroom disciplines of third-world topographies, elementary infiltration, and a teen guide to Rommel.” Oh, Howard. You scamp. Yes, that’s exactly what you need to teach the underserved youth of Hill Street.
Mano a Mano: Bates gets to book the pickpocket this time, who gives his name as “Lewis. Robert Q.”
I’m Good For It: “That Brazilian chick came over with some Js and a fifth of rum.” Yeah, LaRue blithely admits to getting his smoke on to his partner.
What’s Up, Lover?: Neal (and J.D.) are only present for one scene; Neal’s only contribution is to order a virgin bloody mary and a grapefruit for his ailing partner.
Not Now, Fay: “Unarmed! Unarmed woman comin’ through! Look mom, no gun!” Fay’s entrance cleverly calls back to last episode’s shenanigans.
Central Booking: Andrea Marcovicci and Kent Williams return as Cynthia Chase and Bernard in their penultimate appearances. We bid farewell to Mark Metcalf, his character disposed of with no dignity at all.
Quite a few old friends return for this episode, and not for the final time: Jeff Seymour as Santini, Gela Nash as Debbie Kaplan, George Dickerson as Divisional Commander Swanson, Gerry Black as Alf Chesley, Paul Michael as Mister Arcanian (who’d appeared unnamed in the first two episodes), and Nick Savage as the pickpocket.
Dr. Davis was played by Julianna MCCarthy, who’s still active today after a long career full of bit parts. This was her only visit to the Hill. Also making a lone appearances in this episode were Constance Caulfield, best known as the voice of Wonder Woman on the 1984 version of SuperFriends, as Daphne, Dharvi Darrell as Mrs. Miles, and Dottie Adkins in her only known credit as the unnamed hooker who murders Harris.
Ron Feinberg, whose career has mostly been as a voice actor in cartoons, made his only appearance as Kermit Trench. Feinberg was another member of the “former Bochco collaborator” mafia, having appeared in an episode of Paris. Feinberg died in 2007.
David Byrd is also gone, dying in 2001. Playing Krinsky for the only time, he’d return in season six’s “Somewhere Over the Rambo”. He was most well-known for playing Vincent Tully on the failed 1985 Mary Tyler Moore sitcom simply titled Mary.
Clayton Rohnert makes the first of four appearances as a random member of the Shamrock gang, in this particular instance as the suspect hauled in by the DAMA. He’d later have the regular role of Detective Vince Biggio on Bochco’s Murder One, had lead billing as Chandler Smythe in the USA Network series Good vs Evil, and is part of Star Trek lore as Admiral Mark Jameson in the first-season Star Trek: The Next Generation episode “Too Short a Season”.
Mister Viatoro was played by Luis Avalos, who’d reprise in the following episode. In addition to major recurring roles on E/R (not ER, but the 1984-85 comedy series starring Elliott Gould), I Had Three Wives, and Hangin’ With Mr. Cooper, Avalos was most well-known and beloved to kids in the 1970s as a variety of characters (including Roberto and Dr. Doolats) on the PBS classic The Electric Company. The Cuban-born Avalos is also gone, having passed in 2014.
Rap Sheet: Kozoll and Bochco jump back into the fray alongside Yerkovich for the remainder of this arc. Brown returned to the director’s chair after having helmed “Film at Eleven”; he earned the first of his three Emmy nominations for directing this episode, one of three the show received in its first season. He, of course, lost that award to Robert Butler, who’d directed the Hill’s pilot. Brown would again skip an episode before returning for “Gatorbait”.
Verdict: It’s interesting that this episode was nominated for an Emmy, because it’s actually sort of uneven. The entire Trench subplot is sort a well-meaning mistake. Michael Conrad, an excellent actor, carries the climax well, but it just wasn’t well-written. There’s no level of disbelief, no tension following Trench’s admission that he’s been born again. Time may have played a part here, but there are any number of other places in this episode from which 20 seconds could have been mined.
The running gag about Frank’s suits — and the mild conflict with Joyce that it leads to — is cute. (There were actually several other points in the episode where it was brought up, mostly in relation to a coffee stain on Frank’s vest.) The continued thread of the Hector Ruiz story works well also, even as Panchito Gomez didn’t appear in the episode. And the situation with Chase getting squirrely about Frank is amusing.
But there are really three main plots this episode that mattered. The Hill and Renko plotline is vitally important, even though it’s sort of left hanging with no resolution. We learn that yes, Bobby IS keeping Andy away from his girlfriend… because Bobby doesn’t think Andy will approve. And this, more than anything else, has driven the undercurrent of conflict between the two ever since the shooting. Indeed, one could get the impression that Andy’s irritation over Bobby’s lack of support in regard to Hoban would be seriously lessened if Bobby weren’t shutting him out of his personal life too.
The Decker Avenue plotline actually serves as an introduction to just how crippled the Hill is by internal department politics, and gives us our first glimpse into Chief Daniels, who we still haven’t seen on camera yet (and still won’t for three more episodes). The DAMA will, however, become a recurring “character” itself, albeit mostly as something being mentioned rather than shown.
And then there’s the final act. Normally, if you’re going to spotlight a character just to kill them off, you make that character sympathetic so that the audience feels their hearts ripped out. Hill Street, setting a trend as always, instead did it to a loathsome toad. When you first witness Harris being cut, you’re shocked. Before you even get to the end credits, you’re already pondering how he pretty much deserved it. But it’s still Fallen Blue, and we’ll get into the ramifications of that in the next episode.
Final score: 7. There are some misses here, and some filler, but as part three of a four-part major arc it does a good job of setting up the finale, and in terms of structure having Harris’s murder close the episode was a fine act-ender.
Next Week: “Your Kind, My Kind, Humankind”. Several arcs come to an end, and a ton of recurring characters depart for good.
