Marisa Carpico – Empire
No offense to my fearless, brilliant leader Bill Bodkin, but he was absolutely wrong about Empire when he reviewed the pilot. It is the most enjoyable thing on television right now.
Let’s start with the acting. While Bill called for more realism, the sheer camp factor of the performances is (outside of the music) the most enjoyable part. Terrence Howard is formidable as the Lyon family’s patriarch, Luscious, but Taraji P. Henson steals the show as the scenery chewing matriarch, Cookie. One moment she’s throwing a heel at Luscious in the middle of the Empire Records office, the next she’s showing up to a family dinner in nothing but a fur coat and lingerie in hopes of wooing him. She walks into every room like she owns it and she has a right to. Whether it’s working a room full of investors, managing an unruly singer played by no less than real life rock star Courtney Love, or finding the right mix to make a song a hit, she’s so smart you almost wonder how the label got so big without her. What’s even more impressive, though, is that she does all that while being the show’s emotional center too.
In his initial review, Bill was critical of Cookie’s relationship with gay son Jamal (the understated and affecting Jussie Smollett), but I’d like to defend it. In it, he stated that even though Cookie is painted as the accepting parent, their interactions are problematic. While I won’t deny that, I also argue that’s because, in some communities, discussion and acceptance of homosexuality still is problematic.
Take a scene where Jamal is on a first date. He asks if Ryan’s (Eka Darville) father is similarly unaccepting and he jokes that his father is thrilled to have a “sissy” for a son. “The joys of being the son of a black man,” he adds and Jamal gives a knowing look. While the moment may not be politically correct, it’s honest. The show doesn’t pretend prejudice doesn’t exist just because the fact is uncomfortable. Cookie’s behavior is equally honest and complex. Sure Jamal may roll his eyes at some of the things she says, but at least she’s accepting, even encouraging, and that’s no small thing.
Still, Empire, has its flaws. Chief among them is the sheer number of ongoing storylines.
In one episode, after misconstruing a romantic gesture from Luscious as a death threat from a criminal, Cookie put out a hit on a guy. She didn’t discover her mistake until too late and innocent men died. The next episode’s title, “Out, Damned Spot,” with its Shakespearean origins, would seem to suggest Cookie would struggle with guilt over her mistake. Instead, it focused on Luscious’s over something from the pilot. Cookie will no doubt face consequences somewhere down the line, but by pushing them so far from the initial event, the show loses the dramatic tension. It does the same with most every other storyline.
The only possible benefit to splitting the story so much is that it means the show will have a long shelf life—if its breakneck pace and constant level of high drama don’t become exhausting first. Watching the show, you get the sense it can’t possibly sustain more than a few seasons. Luscious’s ALS, for example, is going to have to become really debilitating at some point and I doubt Howard is game for just sitting in a wheelchair communicating exclusively through computer in, like, season 10.
Regardless, Empire is trashy and complicated in the best way. It offers hours of campy fun if you’re willing to give yourself over to its insanity. Millions of viewers already have and more do each week. The show’s ratings–in defiance of history–have risen episode to episode for its first eight weeks. If that’s not the sign of a crowd-pleaser, then I just don’t know.
[php] wp_link_pages(array(‘before’=>’
‘)); [/php]
============================================================================================================================================
