Fun
Frisky
Nostalgic
Intense
Adventurous
Choked Up
Curious
Romantic
Weird
Miss The Wire? Want to learn about how porny Times Square really was back in the day? Then we’ve got the show for you! HBO’s The Deuce, written and produced by David Simon, takes a look at the grungy world of Times Square in 1971, when it was rife with peep shows and prostitutes. Plus, you get a double dose of James Franco and Maggie Gyllenhaal in a blonde wig!
A Guide to Our Rating System
Opening Shot: The opening of a pilot can set a mood for the entire show (think Six Feet Under); thus, we examine the first shot of each pilot.
The Gist: The “who, what, where, when, why?” of the pilot.
Our Take: What did we think? Are we desperate for more or desperate to get that hour back?
Sex and Skin: That’s all you care about anyway, right? We let you know how quickly the show gets down and dirty.
Parting Shot: Where does the pilot leave us? Hanging off a cliff, or running for the hills?
Sleeper Star: Basically, someone in the cast who is not the top-billed star who shows great promise.
Most Pilot-y Line: Pilots have a lot of work to do: world building, character establishing, and stakes raising. Sometimes that results in some pretty clunky dialogue.
Our Call: We’ll let you know if you should, ahem, Stream It or Skip It.
THE DEUCE
Opening Shot: A location card saying “New York City” then “1971.” Then we push in on a dark Brooklyn street and the bar where Vincent Martino (James Franco) works. To set the mood, one of the biggest hits from that year, “Treat Her Like a Lady” by Cornelius Brothers & Sister Rose, plays faintly in the background.
The Gist: Vincent works two jobs, at the bar near his Brooklyn home, and at a Korean restaurant near Times Square, to provide for his wife and two kids, though it doesn’t seem like his wife Andrea (Zoe Kazan) appreciates his efforts. He’s also getting pressure to cover the gambling debts of his wayward twin brother, Frankie (also James Franco).
Meanwhile, we also follow the lives of young —and not so young— streetwalkers in Times Square, including Eileen ‘Candy’ Merrell (Maggie Gyllenhaal), who doesn’t use a pimp and lives a double life in order to provide for her son. We meet other prostitutes and their pimps, as well as NYPD officer Chris Alston (Lawrence Gillard, Jr.) who may be in blue but has made inroads with the “businessmen” who he likely grew up with.
Finally, we meet NYU coed Abby Parker (Margarita Levieva) who finds herself in Times Square after an unfortunate arrest, likely changing the direction of her life forever.
Our Take: Even though the pilot for The Deuce was 90 minutes, it’s hard for us to figure out where everything is going by the end of it. There’s lots to unpack, and lots of people to keep track of. By the end of the pilot, we see some of the characters we’ve been introduced to crossing paths, but it also feels like it’s one of those usual prestige show “slow burns.” Given that there are only 8 episodes, that pace may be too slow for some viewers.
We’re also not 100 percent buying the usually-virtuous Gyllenhaal as a gritty Times Square street hooker. Once we learn a little more about her, her casting becomes a little more believable, but in a scene where she negotiates with a nervous kid who’s getting touched by a woman “in that way” for the first time, she still feels like Maggie Gyllenhaal playing a hooker with a tortured New Yawwwk accent, not a character we want to invest in.
That being said, the pedigree behind The Deuce — Simon, George Pelecanos (who worked for Simon on both The Wire and Treme), and director Michelle MacLaren (who directed every great episode of Breaking Bad) is apparent in the quality of the setting and the dialogue. It’s early ’70s Times Square, sure, but unlike a show like, say, I’m Dying Up Here, it’s not pointing a neon sign towards its utter Seventiesness (“Look, pay phones! And what the heck is the internet?”). In addition, the roles of the Martino brothers are the first ones in a long time where we don’t see Franco squinting and smirking; he shows how good of an actor he can be when he’s actually trying.
One thing that we wish Simon would address: Why it seems like every African-American character, except for Gillard’s cop, is either a hooker or a pimp. Yes, it’s Times Square in the ’70s, but at some point he might want to depict a black character that’s working two jobs to care for his or her family, as well.
Sex and Skin: It’s a series that focuses on prostitutes, so there’s plenty of nudity, including full frontal for both women and men. Case in point: Our first shot at nudity is at the 19-minute mark, we see Frankie nodding to a prostitute in a phone booth who is in the middle of fellating a customer. We’ll leave to the imagination how that scene is depicted.
Parting Shot: Vincent closing the door to a no-tell hotel room he’s rented after seeing C.C. (Gary Carr) doing what pimps do when his “best girl” doesn’t want to work during a rainy night. It does make us wonder whether we’re going to see Vincent descend into the gutter he’s found himself in after some family drama, or will he rise above?
Sleeper Star: Levieva intrigues us as Abby, mainly because her character is smart and wants more than just scarfing pizza and taking cabs to buy speed from sketchy guys. Her character was the one that we want to see more of in the coming season, given that it looks like her life is going to go in an unintended direction by the end of the pilot.
Most Pilot-y Line: It’s more like a dialogue; C.C. and Reggie Love (Tariq Trotter) are sitting in Port Authority, scouting for new blood just off the bus from Middle America. Reggie rambles on about how Nixon is dealing with Vietnam, and C.C. concludes, “So Nixon’s pimpin’. Well, shit, that makes good sense to me.” It feels like a scene that hit Quentin Tarrantino’s cutting room floor when he made Jackie Brown 20 years ago.
Our Call: Stream It. It gets off to a slow start, but David Simon doesn’t make crap. We’re curious as to how this all comes together, and his racial politics feel more retrograde than the show’s setting, but we want to see more of Franco, Levieva and even Gyllenhaal. Also, some of the smaller characters like Darlene (Dominique Fishback), who seem to want to get out of “the life,” are also ones we want to find out more about.
(Click to see all of Decider’s complete Stream It or Skip It reviews)
Joel Keller (@joelkeller) writes about food, entertainment, parenting and tech, but he doesn’t kid himself: he’s a TV junkie. His writing has appeared in the New York Times, Slate, Salon, VanityFair.com, Playboy.com, Fast Company’s Co.Create and elsewhere.
