Boss – Season One.
Created by Farhad Safinia.
Starring Kelsey Grammer, Connie Nielsen, Hannah Ware, Jeff Hephner, Kathleen Robertson, Troy Garity, Rotimi, James Vincent Meredith and Martin Donovan.
SYNOPSIS:
Diagnosed with a degenerative neurological disorder, Mayor Tom Kane battles to maintain political control over the city of Chicago.
Other than Frasier Crane, Kelsey Grammer is perhaps best known for voicing the evil genius Sideshow Bob in The Simpsons. Whilst unlikely to overshadow the 466 appearances of Frasier Crane, Tom Kane in just eight short episodes is in the ascendancy; destined to be one of Grammer’s defining onscreen personas.
In the disorientating opening scene of the pilot, Kelsey Grammer, Frasier Crane and Tom Kane appear to be three distinct and separate identities. However it quickly becomes apparent that the brilliance of Grammer’s performance is the exploitation of his former onscreen persona. He exploits the formers genial disposition to present an affable Tom Kane, but takes the formers character flaw of being quick to anger to create a truly terrifying and violent individual. Built on the foundations of his previous character, he successfully uses it as a template to create of character of new extremes, and the calling to mind of Kane’s comedic roots makes these extremes all the more potent.
Beyond Grammer, the creators have assembled a great crop of acting talent that sees Connie Nielsen, Hannah Ware and Kathleen Robertson all deliver fine performances. However, it is Martin Donovan who comes close to if not succeeding in stealing the show from its star. In a room full of characters we search out Donovan’s Ezra Stone, a character utterly compelling even in moments of silence and stillness, his mannerisms and inflections of speech mesmerising; a revelatory performance.
The religious emphasis of the show’s song, “Satan Your Kingdom Must Come Down” calls to mind The Wire’s “Way Down in the Hole.” It is strikingly judgemental of the title character from the get go, comparing him to the Prince of Darkness. I mention this only because we compelled to project our empathy towards Kane as the pilot episode unfolds, shot in such a way that we are forced to share in his disorientation as the doctor delivers her long and detailed diagnosis.
Boss is a provocative piece of storytelling and whilst it positions us to project moral outrage, simultaneously it dawns that these are characters who are embroiled in the game of political survival. Perhaps as The Wire’s Omar would say, “It’s all part of the game”, and Boss’ cast of characters are peering down the barrel of the gun where morality and personal survival are in opposition to one another. Are they amoral or are they just doing their jobs, doing what we would do in their situation? This is the question that arises no matter the extent of the outrage we may feel.
Boss is a cynical tale of the naivety of hope and the failure of good intentions. Power corrupts and whilst from it derives positive actions of the individual or individuals running the machine, in the end it is the ultimate seductress, and the transformation of the individual into a monster comes as survival becomes the primary consideration. But then, at our heart is the instinct to survive, which coupled with power can be truly disastrous.
For the most part the show adopts the point of view that for a woman to be tough she must be cold, calculating and cruel. It is a rather narrow point of view, but Sarah Kane (Hannah Ware), the distant daughter’s redemptive story arch goes some way to rectifying this narrow view point. She represents. Her amorality derives from not a quest for power, but from a daughter’s love for her father, and a compassion for those less fortunate side-lined by the social order.
The themes of corruption, of personal sacrifice and the sacrifice of one’s identity are not original thematic devices. They have been exploited by storytellers many times before, but this sharply written and well-acted show is a worthy addition to the canon of stories that have explored such themes previously.
Paul Risker is co-editor in chief of Wages of Film, freelance writer and contributor to Flickering Myth and Scream The Horror Magazine.
