I just got run over by the hype train. And the worst part? I was the conductor.
As I write this, my visage mangled beyond the point of recognition by a figurative locomotive, I am still trying to come to grips with the fact that I wasn't blown away by the pilot for HBO's ""Boardwalk Empire.""And it really stings – both the disappointment and my deformed body.
In my first column, I trumpeted ""Boardwalk Empire"" as HBO's answer to ""Mad Men"" and ""Breaking Bad."" It was a way for the Home Box Office to take back the mantle of television's premiere home for artistic small-screen drama. It had an impeccable cast, writers from ""The Sopranos"" and the king of American gangster cinema, Martin Scorsese. So it comes as a surprise that ""Boardwalk Empire"" rings hollow.
It starts from the pilot's opening scene. A group of bootleggers are set to pick up a shipment of contraband alcohol in the first days of Prohibition. As they load up on boxes of booze, one of the rum runners turns to the other and says ""Liquid gold.""
The scene is such a hackneyed moment that doesn't feel authentic in the slightest. It's as if showrunner Terrence Winter, who wrote the pilot himself, couldn't think of a new way to describe Prohibition. It's a moment on autopilot, and nothing else in the opening sequence, from the rest of the banter to the ambush at the end, feels new or fresh. Instead it feels hollow and inauthentic. ""Boardwalk Empire"" lacks a third dimension in these scenes, feeling like a cardboard diorama.
This continues in the next sequence, where the show introduces Enoch ""Nucky"" Thompson, the treasurer of Atlantic City and ""Boardwalk Empire's"" central character. Here Thompson, played by Steve Buscemi, delivers a rousing inspirational speech about the evils of alcohol to a group of local women. Of course it's all just hypocritical pandering – Thompson is actually the leader of almost all of Atlantic City's corrupt activities, and he already has plans in place to make a tidy profit off of America's love affair with liquor once the 18th Amendment goes into effect.
The scene gives Buscemi a nice chance to show off, but it falls flat mostly because of that very fact. Buscemi is a terrific actor, but he doesn't have terrific range. ""Boardwalk Empire"" asks him to be scummy, snide and vulgar, all of which he can do better than anybody. But it also asks him to be suave, aristocratic and charismatic when his character puts on a public face – and he's not a terribly good fit there.
It's the public face that ""Boardwalk Empire"" needs to dwell on less. We all know about the gangland activities, about the Prohibition politics and the raging decade-long kegger that was the roaring '20s. The views behind the scenes, however, are what made shows like ""Mad Men"" and ""The Sopranos"" so interesting.
And ""Boardwalk Empire"" can do that well too. The scenes with Thompson's protégé Jimmy, played well by Michael Pitt, interacting with his family have a great intimate feel. And Buscemi's backstage politics with fellow criminal ingrates Arnold Rothstein (""A Serious Man's"" Michael Stuhlbarg) and Lucky Luciano (relative newcomer Vincent Piazza) catch the same gritty every-man-for-himself underworld vibe Scorsese crafted so well in ""Mean Streets"" and ""Goodfellas.""
Fortunately, the series has some time to entrench itself in this vibe more permanently. This is just the pilot after all, and there is a full season ahead to see how Winter and Scorsese can flesh out Thompson, Jimmy, Rothstein and the rest of New Jersey's 1920s scumbags. And thanks to the 4.8 million viewers who tuned in on Sept. 19, they will have another shot next year too, with HBO already deciding to renew ""Boardwalk Empire"" for another season.
With that in mind, I'll give ""Boardwalk Empire"" exactly what Jimmy requested in the pilot: an opportunity. But with all the talent and resources at HBO's disposal, I will remind them of Thompson's pointed response: ""This is America, ain't it? Who the fuck's stopping you?""
