I think it’s been clear that TNT has been a central part of my writing journey. I spent a lot of time watching it over the years. In its heyday, TNT would run broadcast procedurals in syndication all day: Bones, Supernatural, Charmed. I watched literal metric tons of all of those shows and learned my craft from them. TNT has changed in the modern era of cable television and isn’t as reliable a source of late. But it’s still having an impact on my life and work.
I’m one of those writers who needs ambient noise when I’m working. I’m used to working with the TV on. It works best for me when it’s a show I’ve seen and known well and don’t have to pay full attention to. (Though often, I will get pulled in to watch a favorite scene or two.) Syndication is my best friend. But since TNT isn’t great for that anymore, I’ve had to find other sources. And that’s led me to Lifetime: Television for Women (it’s actually not called that anymore, but I’m too old to change).
Lifetime still does serial syndication and that’s where I found The Closer and its sequel/spin-off Major Crimes. And I’ve fallen hard for both of them. Even though they are both deeply problematic in so, so many ways. But they’re also terrific television. And both are a bit groundbreaking, in good ways, in their own right. And both began their life on, you guessed it, TNT.
For a brief, shining, glorious moment, cable TV was awash in new scripted shows. The Turner Networks, TNT and TBS, were at the forefront of that wave. In the early 2000s, new hourlong dramas were dropping on TNT every month, it felt like. The Closer was one of the first, one of the most lauded and one of the longest running. (Sort of. We’ll get to that in a second.) Much like The Handmaid’s Tale and Orange Is The New Black did for the streaming era, The Closer announced basic cable’s entry into television people had to take seriously.
It feels quaint now, since The Closer is a fairly standard police procedural. Not exactly a violent soap opera about the New Jersey mob, or a violent drama about a science teacher-turned-meth dealer. It wasn’t breaking new ground or pushing the boundaries of storytelling. It was just good, straightforward TV. And it still is.
For the unaware, The Closer revolves around Brenda Leigh Johnson, a CIA-trained interrogator who comes to work for the LAPD in their Priority Homicide Squad (more on that CIA part shortly). She is the titular “closer,” known for getting suspects to confess to their crimes and securing indictments and convictions. How does she achieve such success? She is a world-class liar and manipulator.
And that’s not me saying that. That’s the show’s position. Brenda’s ability to lie and to manipulate people is indeed her superpower. She lies large, she lies constantly, to suspects, to witnesses, to her superiors, to her squad, to her husband, to her parents, to herself. Brenda meeting Dr. House would be a true “unmovable object meets an irresistible force” situation.
That is the most problematic part of watching the show. I’m not sure if most people are aware of this, but the police can and do lie to suspects. They are legally allowed to present false evidence, to create false statements, to do everything in their power to confuse a suspect or even a witness. Brenda Leigh Johnson uses every inch of what’s “legal” and often goes beyond. Watching The Closer is often watching people weasel and bamboozled out of their constitutional rights.
One good real-world thing that I’ve developed from watching The Closer is my rock solid conviction that, if you are asked to go into a police station, you should bring a lawyer with you. You should say absolutely nothing, listen to nothing they tell you and demand legal representation immediately. Many times on the show, people comes to the station without a lawyer, with full knowledge of their guilt, but somehow thinking they can outsmart and outlie the cops. They can not. One of their favorite tricks is to get people to waive their Miranda rights by asking them to sign paperwork. Do not, under any circumstances, sign anything that a police officer ask you to sign.
I am, at best, skeptical about the powers we grant the police in this country. And even more skeptical about how those powers are used. The LA Times recently highlighted a number of cases where the police settled on a theory of the crime and a culprit and then pressured witnesses into altering their statements to secure convictions, only later for it to be learned that the police were wrong. Innocent people were sent to jail and eventually exonerated and several of those crimes have never been solved. The tactics they use are exactly the tactics Brenda Leigh Johnson uses in each episode of The Closer. Having any care about social justice makes watching a former CIA operative lie to people uncomfortable.
But goddamn it, she is good at it. And it is fun to watch.
The things in the plus column for The Closer are, ironically, much the same things that make it problematic. Interrogations make great scenes. And Kyra Sedgwick’s performance as Brenda is a real marvel. Another seminal show, Homicide: Life on the Streets, also made excellent use of interrogations. You put two strong actors in a small room together and have them go at it. It’s always great to watch them work. As a retired playwright, I love a good scene and The Closer is chock-a-block with them.
And Brenda herself is a fascinating character. She’s prickly, difficult, self-centered and driven. The kind of qualities that generally get a real woman called a bitch. And Brenda is called that a lot. The thing that softens some of those traits is that she’s from Atlanta and wields Southern charm and courtesy like a scalpel.
That background, that she’s a Southerner in Los Angeles, is also a significant part of the first season. It sets her apart from her department, made up of LA natives and long-time LAPD detectives. Brenda is brought in, from the outside, as a Deputy Chief of Police, leapfrogging over several seasoned officers. She enters the department to a wall of resentment and resistance.
This allows the show to hit a note that a lot of other shows aimed for and missed. In the 80s, there was a famed BBC show called Prime Suspect. It brought Helen Mirren to the world stage, as a female detective in the old boys club of Scotland Yard. In 2011, an American version was launched and failed miserably. While, obviously, misogyny runs rampant in this country and, especially, within our police forces, something felt off about that being the only reason the other cops wouldn’t accept the lead character.
By offloading a lot of that onto her Southern ways, many of which are gendered anyway, like politeness, The Closer avoided that trap. Brenda’s an outsider in so many ways in that first season that you immediately connect with her. She’s also so very, very good at her job.
That’s where The Closer hits the most common difficulty of the police procedural: Brenda is rarely wrong. Oh, sure, there are red herrings and suspects that get dismissed. But once she locks onto a suspect, it’s just a matter of time before she goads them into a confession (one that, in the real world, would almost certainly get thrown out by any marginally competent lawyer). Brenda Leigh Johnson always gets her man.
That is what brings her down in the end. Brenda is laser-focused on punishing murderers. When she can’t actually get the murderer, usually due to some kind of bureaucratic issue, she doesn’t just stop. Several times, over the course of the series, she arranges for murderers who have slipped from her grasp to be murdered themselves. She sets them up to be shanked in prison, killed by the mob, killed by their own gang members. Eventually she is sued by a crusading criminal defense lawyer (who is, of course, painted as the worst kind of villain). That lawsuit, along with a few other factors, winds up costing Brenda her job. And that brings us to Major Crimes.
Major Crimes is usually spoken of as a spin-off, but it’s not really. The sets are the same, the look is the same, the cast is largely the same. We’re still with the Priority Homicide Squad of the LAPD, re-named about midway though The Closer to Major Crimes. It’s rare that a show loses its lead and just continues on. The only other show that I can think of that pulled off that kind of feat was The Hogan Family.
The lying, however, continued. Again, suspects are tricked into waiving their Miranda rights. Twice, on the show, they read the Miranda rights out loud, pretending to read them to one person but making sure the actual suspect overhears them. It’s just as uncomfortable. But also just as watchable. Brenda Leigh Johnson is replaced by Sharon Rayder, played by Mary McDonnell. She is much more of a rule-follower, much less likely to have people murdered. She’s a advocate of making deals, though, which still means getting confessions. So the scenes continue, as does the weaseling out of people’s rights.
At this point, I’ve watched both The Closer and Major Crimes all the way through several times. The Closer, in particular, has become a comfort watch. Odd, I know, because of the discomfort. But I contain multitudes.
Check them both out, if you can. On Lifetime: Television for Women. Or on a streaming service. And always remember: never set foot in a police station without a lawyer. They are going to lie to you.