On September 16, 1984 television changed. I don’t say that lightly or with any sense of hyperbole. It truly did. While the impact might not have been immediate, the ripples are still generating influence decades later. I’m talking of course about the pilot episode of NBC’s cop drama Miami Vice. The series itself would run for five seasons, win numerous awards, shift popular culture, and make household names of its stars, but it was this special two-hour event that laid the groundwork, proved the concept and the formula, then kicked off one of the most successful runs in TV history.
Created by Anthony Yerkovich, who wrote the episode, Brother’s Keeper begins in New York City, where a detective named Tubbs (Philip Michael Thomas) hunts a drug dealer responsible for killing his partner. He chases him to Miami, posing as a Jamaican buyer and runs afoul of Sonny Crockett (Don Johnson), a vice detective hunting a Colombian drug lord named Calderone (Miguel Piñero). Tubbs identifies himself as Rafael, given assignment to track Calderone, prompting Crockett’s Lieutenant (Gregory Sierra) to have the two work together. But there are secrets untold and motivations that differ, keeping their partnership in question, not to mention ability to catch a killer on the run.
Naturally, I left a lot out, not wanting to spoil the who’s and what’s of the whole story, but where the script does best is giving these few characters a great deal of depth as they become aligned on the same path. Crockett is going through a divorce, trying to maintain presence in his young son’s life. He’s also struggling to build a romance with fellow detective Gina Calabrese (Saundra Santiago), which is not going well. He lives on a boat with an enormous pet alligator and as such, life is not so grounded. Johnson, who became internationally famous during the run of this show for his character’s fashion sense (still being made reference to in a 2015 episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine – “Don Johnson it!”), plays Crockett hard boiled but scarred by his past, vulnerable yet highly competent. There’s great believability in his performance, one that feels weighted the moment we meet him (look for a brief appearance from Jimmy Smits).
I liked Crocketts’s few scenes with Gina, even as the dialogue teases cheesy in some of the more intimate exchanges, but it’s forgivable given the time and the intent of the show. What comes across better is the chemistry and the way they are drawn to each other, stumped by hurdles that make getting together seem impossible. Moments like these would seem unnecessary in a pilot about high profile action oriented cops, but the fact that the producers allowed time for such development proved their commitment to the arc of these characters. When Crockett is in a gunfight we carry that past with him and Johnson does very well in keeping his personal life a part of him whenever we see him. It’s key to every choice he makes.
Tubbs is purposefully less defined here, his character going though a few changes in identity, his motivations ambiguous until late in the show. Thomas is cool and icy, those famous steely eyes relating so much with just a look. It’s smart to establish him in New York first, his story the reason the whole show exists (a similar plot point would be the motivation for the Eddie Murphy action comedy Beverly Hills Cop released later the same year). Thomas and Johnson are extremely well cast and the initial friction their characters have for each other makes it all the more satisfying when they come to rely on each other later to stay alive. It’s dynamic, inspiring, and better than what most expected from a TV show.
That’s the thing about Brother’s Keeper, and ultimately the show itself, how cinematic it actually feels. This show began in the era of MTV, where style and music were beginning to drive everything. Storytelling was shifting from narrative to visual and a cop show with that mentality seemed the perfect fit. Indeed it worked. Rights to many big music talents were being paid to get on the show, including this pilot where the pattern was set (listen for Phil Collins‘ In the Air Tonight making it’s debut in the series, soon to be a signature piece of music that defined the show itself). That’s not to mention the score, written and performed by Jan Hammer, whose contributions would become iconic not just for Miami Vice, but television history.
As for the visuals, the pilot’s director, Thomas Carter, took cues from music videos, accompanying the sounds of pop songs to the motion of the story, layering the moments between action with impact as simply driving a car suddenly had great weight. It’s still satisfying so many years later. Not a word spoken but with the beat of a hit song and a glance from Tubbs to Crockett as they streak down the road is all we need to know that these two mean business. I like too that Carter gets us behind the aura of the more famous views of Miami, sprinkling the party, bikini glitz of the beach city we know with the more downtrodden and seedier sides of it all where our heroes must beat the odds.
The episode’s themes are dark but there are moments of humor that find some room in the drama, including just about anything with the alligator, and a sort of bizarre sequence in a courtroom where it gets flat-out zany as everyone including the judge (gleefully praising the Second Amendment) pull out guns and aim them at Tubbs. I say humorous only because of the way it it plays out, clearly tongue-in-cheek on social commentary that only in years later carries the punch it probably was meant to levy. It’s genuinely uncomfortable to watch, even as it makes its point.
This was my first time seeing Brother’s Keeper, even though I’ve seen many episodes in the series. I’m grateful I did, getting a real sense of just how influential the show really was and how impressive it must have been that first night airing. Miami Vice has become parodied so much since that it’s nearly impossible to think about taking it seriously, but that’s just how I took it the moment the first frame’s started, the dense, gritty feel of the episode (and its fantastic six-minute run before credits begin) establishing much anticipation for what was to come. Do I plan to watch the whole series? Yes.