Michael Hayes (1997) s01e22 – Vaughn Mower

So I missed the penultimate episode because streaming rights or something but I wouldn’t be surprised to find it had more of a conclusive feel than this episode. Something about the one feels like they held it from an earlier airdate and retooled it.

Though there was a recent plot point where someone made fun of Rebecca Rigg’s hair so maybe she got it recut to match her original hairstyle.

The episode’s about Ruben Santiago-Hudson’s first wife’s murderer, Luis Guzman, getting out on parole and Santiago-Hudson stalking him. Given Santiago-Hudson’s first wife is a retcon (or at least a “this episode” reveal), it doesn’t end up being a particularly effective arc. Partially because there’s just no weight behind the story since it’s all new backstory, partially because director Tim Hunter—whose contribution I was pleasantly anticipating—absolutely fails on the direction. The scenes between Santiago-Hudson and new wife Tembe Locke are really thin. And Guzman’s a wasted guest cast.

The B plot is Caruso investigating former boss and very infrequent guest star (hasn’t been around since the first thirteen) Philip Baker Hall on bribery allegations. The show seems to forget it’s already used this exact plot line with one of Caruso’s other mentors, but maybe going through three or four batches of show runners confused everyone. Especially if this episode is airing nine episodes late, since it appears to have Mary S. Ward and Jimmy Galeota dealing with David Cubitt in the witness protection program. Only the last anyone saw Cubitt he was bleeding out on the sidewalk in a hastily done scene, which literally no one ever refers to again. Because the show doesn’t assume anyone watches the show; never a good sign.

It only gets really interesting at the end, when all of a sudden—out of nowhere—there’s this heavy implication Ward has been madly crushing on brother-in-law and better dad to her kid than his brother Caruso the entire show. Even though there’s been not even zero romantic chemistry between them but anti-romantic chemistry; Cubitt being irrationally jealous was one of his character traits.

Really bad series finale. Okay episode, minus the weirdly bad direction from Hunter, who either couldn’t figure out how to compose for perspective or was trying a new style thing and it’s just bad. He seems to be going for environments confining the actors thing, which does not work with the worst in a while music from Roger Neill. The music’s obnoxious.

“Michael Hayes” is a sterling example of could’ve, should’ve, would’ve. It’s really too bad they couldn’t crack the series, given the cast quality, though it really did teach Caruso how to act for CBS. Good for him and all, just not good for his acting. But who knows… maybe they just cut all the character work. Sure seems like it at the end of this episode.

It’s too bad.

It’s also really unfair they never had Jodi Long as a regular even though she did more episodes than anyone but Caruso and Santiago-Hudson.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e19 – Power Play

The entire episode hinges on Allison Smith’s performance as a Patty Hearst-type who falls in with a post-Waco vengeance militia. Or at least if it were good it would. The performance. The episode’s not bad, with decent guest star turns from Byron Minns as a suspicious ATF agent, and then Linda Carlson and Frank Converse as Smith’s parents. But it’s nowhere near as good as it ought to be.

The episode spotlights Smith, time and again, even though she just draws attention to the flimsiness of the story. The real story kicks off after the episode’s over—given all the reveals on what’s been going on before the episode. David Caruso and Peter Outerbridge are trying one of the militia guys for murder only Smith shows up to say Minns is lying. They start investigating (Ruben Santiago-Hudson is around at this point in the episode… he’s going to disappear, hopefully to shoot a safety pilot for next season), bringing in Converse—a hard ass blue blood judge—and Carlson and giving Outerbridge a decent scene or two but then Minns arrests Smith and it becomes Single White Female all of a sudden. Smith starts stalking Caruso and so on.

The conclusion—or more like second half of the episode—has one of the militia members taking hostages in a federal building and Caruso trying to convince Smith to help de-escalate the situation. Hillary Danner’s around presumably because it was her week not to go off and shoot that safety pilot (in addition to Santiago-Hudson vanishing from the episode, Rebecca Rigg never appears). Though Jimmy Galeota does show up for a couple scenes to remind when Caruso had some kind of character development on the show. Some kind of character even.

Before the hostage situation, the episode has a mildly intriguing thing going—it’s doing Caruso investigating government conspiracies without it being the conspiracy mythology the show’s been trying to gin up and the corruption angle is engaging–but once the hostage thing takes over….

It all of a sudden matters whether episode director Vahan Moosekian is going to be able to make it thrilling (he’s not) or suspenseful (also no). And then to have it all be about Smith during that portion of the episode too… it just doesn’t work. It can’t. Bonnie Marks gets the script credit and the script’s at fault for many of the episode’s problems, including Smith’s character and its writing. But everyone else is able to make the writing work—Jodi Long finally gets more to do after being office scenery for most of the series (she hasn’t had anything to do until she had to tell Caruso not to be passively racist about ten episodes ago) and then ends up getting the shit end of the stick in a scene to showcase Converse’s privilege.

With a good lead guest star and a better plot, this episode could’ve been a slam dunk. Instead, it’s just not as bad as the new normal (yet still manages to remind the show’s a shambles of its potential).

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e17 – Lawyers, Guns and Money

I desperately wanted Joe Spano’s guest spot to be the worst part of the episode. Even as Spano continued to try to chew the scenery, his mouth open, half-chewed chunks falling out all over the place, if Spano were the worst thing… it’d be tolerable at least.

Sadly, no, they go full “plans within plans” conspiracy nonsense. I had been hoping not having new co-showrunner Michael S. Chernuchin’s name on the writing credits (it’s Fred Golan solo) would somehow keep it at bay. Or, actually, they’d just let the silly storyline—David Caruso versus the shadow government—drop. I mean, they let David Cubitt getting knifed to death in the street a few episodes ago drop; instead he apparently magically survived and is off in witness protection (the forecasted conclusion of the story arc before the shock stabbing). It gives Caruso something to do with infrequent regulars Mary B. Ward and Jimmy Galeota. Galeota’s been cutting Cubitt out of family photos, which is incredible when you think it’s because Cubitt died. Only “Michael Hayes” isn’t for people who watched the whole show, just some of the show.

If you watched the whole show, for instance, you might wonder whatever became of Hillary Danner. Rebecca Rigg gets a single scene here—Danner must’ve been busy trying to line up a pilot for the next season. Peter Outerbridge is still around, providing vaguely suspicious blue blood opposite righteous Caruso. Though Caruso’s not in the episode anywhere near as much as Ruben Santiago-Hudson, who takes it personally when an Eastern European diplomatic attache (Levani) starts selling guns to thirteen year-old Black kids. Santiago-Hudson’s got to flip Levani’s contacts, first Cress Williams (in a lousy part but with a bunch of solid energy) and then Tangi Miller. Miller’s Levani’s kept girlfriend, who knows more about drug running than she thinks.

Miller’s pretty good considering her part makes absolutely no sense the further the episode goes on. There’s not really any legalese in Golan’s script, just one liners from Caruso (unknowingly prepping that “CSI: Miami” audition no doubt), and vague conspiracy crap. There’s an oil pipeline, there’s an election, blah, blah, blah. Two fits of performative physical rage from Caruso, which makes you really hope secretary Jodi Long doesn’t have to clean up after him.

I was really hoping the show didn’t keep offering limbs to the sharks, but it’s apparently just going to be lathering itself in chum from now on.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e15 – Imagine: Part 2

Despite some better than necessary acting from the guest stars and nicely competent direction from Mel Damski (though Damski can’t make the silly black and white flashbacks to last episode work and every time they’re jarring and terrible and there are a lot of times), it’s a reductive conclusion to the big conspiracy two-parter.

Given the timing, had the Enemy of the State trailer come out yet? Were CBS and new show runners Michael S. Chernuchin (who also gets sole writer credit here) and Michael Pressman just trying to get into the zeitgeist? Because even though the episode convinces most of the regular cast the world is being run by a combination of the mob and Wall Street, the conclusion punts on it. I suppose “The X-Files” was running at the time too, right? Is “Michael Hayes 4.0” going to be David Caruso versus aliens? Fingers crossed.

The episode opens with Jimmy Galeota and Mary B. Ward coming back to the show for the first time in a couple episodes. Everyone’s gotten over their grieving apparently and the dead brother, dead husband, dead father elephant in the room never gets a nod or even addressed. Chernuchin very intentionally doesn’t give Caruso much acting to do—and Damski directs for the guest stars—so it’s impossible to read any character development into the performances. There’s just a new normal and they’re trying again. Maybe this time they’ll figure it out.

Everyone’s working the conspiracy angle, which brings in Alex Rocco as a guest star (there’s also a Godfather 2 reference no one acknowledges, making it worse); Chris Mulkey’s back for a scene and he’s still bad. But Kevin Conway—who only gets a couple—is still fun. Lisa Banes and Gail Strickland are the good guest stars.

Larry Miller shows up in an overly suspicious conspiratorial part but, I mean, he’s still good. It’s Larry Miller.

“Michael Hayes” never really got a good break. The show’s first pass was already trying to correct, it got rushed through what seems to have been the most earnest stretch, and now we’re in the desperate for attention phase.

There’s a solid chunk of the season for them to try to correct or just to continue to fail, but retracting the scope of the conspiracy angle really feels like they tried sacrificing a limb to the shark in the first tank to swim on to the second.

It’s very hard to be upbeat about the show’s potential at this point.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e13 – Arise and Fall

Even with some big cop outs—so big it’s practically another soft reset of the series—it’s either the best or second best episode with show co-creator John Romano’s name in the writing credits. Most of the episode is a “day in the life” of the people working at the U.S. Attorney’s office; more of a few days in the life, but still. The episode’s got a nice scale to it.

Arise and Fall starts with David Caruso complaining about cockroaches to secretary Jodi Long, which ends up driving both B plots. There’s going to be some evidence mishandling, giving Ruben Santiago-Hudson something to do all episode, but also will provide another aspect to the Peter Outerbridge learns blue bloods can be problem employees too story arc. Outerbridge has just won a case with previously unseen because it’s a huge office attorney Brian McNamara (and Hillary Danner). They’re going to form a subplot group throughout the episode, starting with them opening up the series’s hang out restaurant for coffee after a night of celebrating.

Outerbridge hasn’t had a lot to do on the show and he handles this story arc quite well. Though the episode completely goes with “sexually harass a woman” to fuel her male colleagues’ character development trope. Women, regular cast or guest stars, are fairly disposable around here. Mary Ward even shows up for a couple scenes to establish something for back again David Cubitt to pick up later.

Caruso spends the first half of the episode dealing with the outstanding “girlfriend Helen Slater is possibly on the mob payroll” multi-episode arc, which has Arye Gross showing up for a two scenes as the investigator, which ends up being as many scenes as Slater gets. It’ll end up being one of the big cop outs.

The second half’s A plot—the episode’s fairly balanced so the only reason it’s the A plot is because it’s Caruso’s—is about Cubitt turning himself in and Caruso trying to work it all out.

Outside the opening cockroach conversation, most of Caruso’s scenes have him pensively, silently reacting to either news or giving news to someone. The episode takes its time with those moments, with director Richard J. Lewis letting Caruso find the meat in the scenes. It’s nice Lewis takes the time, especially since the only other distinctive aspect of his direction is how poorly he directs kid Jimmy Galeota. Like, the writing’s not great on Galeota (who’s emotional fodder for the Cubitt subplot, just like Ward) but still. They should’ve kept doing takes until they got something a little better.

It’s a mostly high mediocre episode (as it combats the first half cop out), with the second big cop out dragging it down at the end.

But, hey, maybe they’ll finally figure out what to do with the show next episode.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e10 – The Confidence Man

The curse of the John Romano co-writing credit continues. Otherwise it’s an excellent episode about David Caruso’s old cop partner, Scott Lawrence, coming for help. An FBI informant (a slimy but not too slimy—or not in it enough to be too slimy—Alan Blumenfeld) is threatening fetching bank teller Tracy Douglas over bad checks. Douglas goes to the cops, meeting Lawrence; they get romantically involved.

So while Caruso’s trying to figure out whether or not he can disentangle an active investigation from Blumfield, which brings in a kind of wonderfully tepid Dann Florek as the handler, there’s rising concern for Douglas. And then a subplot about Caruso’s ex-con brother, David Cubitt, pulling jobs to pay off his debt to loan sharks. There’s no B plot exactly, just a bunch of C plots, including Jimmy Galeota’s tenth birthday party, Caruso telling sister-in-law Mary B. Ward how Cubitt thinks they’re lovers, then a weird thing about all the women in the office wanting to do things for Caruso and him being uncomfortable.

Like secretary Jodi Long being willing to pick up his laundry—leading to a weird attempt at a sitcom-esque gag (Long’s so good and has so little to do on the show) but then associate Hillary Danner being willing to date an FBI agent for information.

At least Rebecca Rigg—in her single scene—comes in to tell Caruso not to be stupid and only agrees to his orders under duress and with complaint. No wonder Romano never uses her. The Long and Danner stuff feels very much like what I’d expect from a Romano episode.

The scene with Ward and Caruso has promise but goes nowhere. It at least lingers long enough to give Ward some silent rumination to essay. Dan Lerner’s direction is rather patient, especially with Caruso, who will get his one-liner, then Lerner and editor Elba Sanchez-Short hang on it long enough for Caruso to act a beat. Certainly the best handling of a Romano episode so far.

Unfortunately, the finale is a disaster because it just sets up another cliffhanger in the Cubitt subplot. Cubitt’s real bad this episode… real bad. Maybe even worst ever. It’s particularly grating because the scene before, where Caruso and Lawrence do manly emotional labor for one another, is excellent.

Lawrence is pretty good, even as his character’s stuck in unlikely situations—wait, I just realized real NYPD cops are allowed to rape suspects in custody so never mind. A consensual relationship with a witness and victim is no doubt all good on TV in the nineties.

Decent Ruben Santiago-Hudson investigating material. Some excellent Caruso moments.

If they’d just forgotten to tie up the Cubitt subplot, it’d be a pretty darn good episode. Sadly, thanks to the cliffhanger setup—and Cubitt’s lousy performance—it’s not.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e08 – Death and Taxes

It’s the first episode without either show “developer” Paul Haggis or show co-creator John Romano getting at least a co-writing credit so I thought “Michael Hayes” must be on solider ground. If they’re going to trust credited writers Richard Kletter and Gardner Stern, it must be because it’s safe. Or Haggis and Romano just didn’t want this turd on their official WGA filmographies.

About the only thing the episode does right is Ruben Santiago-Hudson. Santiago-Hudson usually gets a crap part in Romano-credited episodes, this episode he’s fine. So it’s not hard to write Santiago-Hudson, the other folks apparently just really can’t do it. Because Kletter and Stern being able to do it… it ends up being the only thing they can do. If Death and Taxes isn’t the worst episode so far, it’s bad enough it’s making me forget any lower.

It’s a nineties Russian mob episode, with David Caruso trying to get earnest gas station owner George Tasudis to flip on bad guy Shaun Taub; there’s a vaguely interesting description of the gas scam Taub’s running and the episode would’ve played much better if it’d just been them trying to beat him with taxes or whatever. Instead, it’s thirty-five minutes of energetic water treading until the plot’s finally to a point where Caruso can convince Tasudis. What’s hilarious about the episode—which gets on a high horse with the differences between what the U.S. government can do to protect people versus the Russian government—is how badly Kletter and Stern work through that equation. It’s actually impressive how poorly the episode executes its conclusion—with a Russian music themed juxtapose, along with Caruso running around with a gun. I really thought we’d left the “U.S. Attorney packs heat” behind in the pilot, but I imagine—outside Hillary Danner, Peter Outerbridge, and Rebecca Rigg appearing—this episode looks a lot like what Romano had in mind before whoever with an eye on quality and competence brought in Haggis.

Outerbridge gets like three scenes and at least there isn’t a vague implication he’s working against Caruso because Caruso’s not a WASP, Danner gets maybe two scenes… Rigg also gets two, but only gets to speak in one of them. Otherwise she’s just there because they need a familiar face. It’s an abject waste of the regular cast. Though, then again, given how well the episode does with David Cubitt and Mary B. Ward, maybe less is better. It’s the inevitable episode where ex-con Cubitt gets brought back into crime because he can’t cover his debt to the loan shark–something the show’s been forecasting since it started—and also Cubitt confronting Caruso and Ward about the affair he imagines they’re having. Except the writing’s really bad and the episode’s already established Caruso and Ward have negative romantic chemistry; after this episode it’s impossible to imagine Ward having chemistry with anyone—she’s actually worse than Cubitt, which is an achievement of sorts. It’s such a bad subplot. And then for the main plot to go worse….

There are lots of one-liners for Caruso, which are both tiresome and inappropriate (at one point he forgets how many victims they’ve got and it’s not a number he ought to be forgetting because it’s a very low number), but it’s more of a “good actor in a bad show” situation than anything else. Alex Graves’s direction is a little more ambitious than it needs to be, especially when he’s so bad with the performances.

It’s a stinker. If it were episode two or three, it might be a jumping off point. It’s such bad writing. Just… such bad writing.

Theodore Bikel pops up for a couple scenes as a Russian mob specialist working for the FBI (he accepts his salary in paid dinners); he’s fine. Crap part, but he’s fine.

Last thing—and another whack at Kletter and Stern—Taub’s crime boss name is “The Little Turk,” presumably so they don’t have to keep saying Russian names, but there’s also something kind of bigoty about it. Like every time they use it they’re getting away with something. Not to mention at the time of the episode, less than 95,000 Turkish people lived in Russia? Maybe the episode’s just before Hollywood was comfortable with blond haired, blue-eyed Russians being the villains.

Whatever; it stinks. Kletter and Stern are bad at their job.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e07 – Radio Killer

This episode is about a proto-Alex Jones (a just okay Daniel von Bargen) who incites one of his listeners to kill an ATF agent as payback for Waco (back when the sovereign citizens weren’t running government agencies) and the good guys having to figure out how they can get von Bargen for murder. It’s the first trial episode of “Michael Hayes” and it is not a good trial sequence. Not even for 1997. At some point David Caruso just starts doing a full Al Pacino with recurring judge Esther Scott yelling at him to knock it off for way too long. Scott’s not good this episode, which is too bad, because it’s entirely the script’s fault.

Of course John Romano gets half the script credit—I mean, Kelly Rowan shows up needlessly as the FBI agent who last time had the hots for a disinterested Caruso and this time seems to have read the room, but she has nothing important to do in the narrative. Other Romano script regular feature—Ruben Santiago-Hudson getting bad material—gets averted; Santiago-Hudson just doesn’t get much to do. Well, Caruso still has to tell him obvious things to do about his job (Santiago-Hudson was going to ignore Internet-based von Bargen fan clubs, Caruso has to tell him to actually investigate them). What ought to be Santiago-Hudson’s material gets shifted over to Rowan, but then there’s the added benefit of Rowan getting to team up with Rebecca Rigg. Caruso is letting Rigg run with the case—much to Peter Outerbridge’s dismay—which leads to some good acting through weak material for Rigg and some profound Bechdel fails.

Especially since Rigg ends up getting her real U.S. Attorney through witness manipulation and so on. The show’s very careful to demonize rich evil bigots (von Bargen and his cracker caricature lawyer Ben Jones) while patronizing poor dumb bigots (the killer’s girlfriend Boti Bliss). It’s a fine line, because Caruso’s ostensibly got his righteous white savior, Irish Catholic anger thing going on (hence getting away with yelling in court and ignoring Black woman judge Scott). There’s also the additional factor history’s proven “Hayes” right to some terrifying degree; the people in the nineties who were worried about potentially riled up domestic terrorists were not wrong, after all. Hearing the FBI worry about white supremacists—in the late nineties—is one heck of a “oh, the good old days.”

Unfortunately, thanks to Ashford and Romano not being very good at what they’re trying to do—though, again, to be fair, it’s CBS and it’s 1997, there weren’t that many possibilities—but it comes off like a sensationalized, exploitative liberal scaremongering about working poor non-college educated whites. It just happens to be correct, just from a time when it’s possible it wouldn’t end up being correct. See, if it were well-written, it’d age great.

Anyway, while Caruso’s letting Rigg do all the hard work so he can do the yelling in court, there’s a subplot about his brother, David Cubitt, getting involved with organized crime. Caruso tries to talk to him about it, Cubitt just wants to talk about Caruso’s great unrequited romance with Mary B. Ward (Cubitt’s suffering wife). Only Caruso and Ward have very mild chemistry, certainly not romantic, not even when they slow dance; it’s still more than Cubitt musters with anyone so I guess it’s a valid concern. It’s just this nonsense leftover from the pilot.

It’s a rollercoaster of a character arc for Rigg and she gets through it; it’s unclear if it’ll add up to anything going forward. But it’s pretty clear Romano-credited episodes of “Hayes” are going to continue to wildly disappoint. Though it’s the best Caruso’s been so far with patently bad material.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e06 – Heroes

Paul Haggis has a co-writer credit on the script, which seems to mean—among other things—Hillary Danner is going to get some things to do and Ruben Santiago-Hudson’s going to be good because the writing for him is better. Santiago-Hudson has less to do than last episode, when the writing wasn’t Haggis and was bad, but he’s much better while doing the less. Though the scene where he teases David Caruso about going on a date is weird. Danner’s part is to go off, do work, find results, bring them to Caruso, which ends up being better than Rebecca Rigg, who just sits around with Caruso and spit-balls because she’s the only person smarter than him.

The episode’s a riff on Ransom (the remake not original) with dirtbag FBI agent (dirtbag even for FBI agent, also note how much they code him as working class) Larry Joshua maybe or maybe not framing mail carrier Brad William Henke for a kidnapping of a child. Henke says he rescued the kid on his route, Joshua says he grabbed him and let him go. Henke and his lawyer—a fantastic Amy Aquino—are suing for ten million; Caruso and company are stuck defending Joshua.

The episode doesn’t go full kidnapped child exploitative with the original case, instead contriving a reason to put Caruso’s nephew—Jimmy Galeota, who’s his regular medium grade annoying, nothing more, nothing less—in danger of a child predator. It also tries to show Caruso as the most progressive one in the office about Joshua being a bad cop, though if he’s guilty and Henke’s completely innocent and a real hero, it’s wrong Henke wants damages. Vindication fine; damages no. It’s also unclear what’s supposed to happen to Joshua other than Caruso not having to deal with him. The show’s maybe two steps away from being at least somewhat self-aware. There are a lot of “it was still the nineties” caveats, though it would’ve certainly been better on dirtbag FBI agents than TV would be for years to come. It’s pre-9/11, after all.

Galeota’s got a subplot about loan sharks showing up looking for dad David Cubitt, who shows up for a couple scenes for the first time in a while. Mary B. Ward’s got a couple too. Nothing much of consequence happens in either of them, except Caruso letting Cubitt commit three or four crimes in his effort to be a better bad. There’s a magical bad dad toxic masculinity scene where Cubitt implies Galeota’s pride in him is why he’s got to be a criminal and put he and Ward in danger from aforementioned loan sharks.

The script’s a little more sensational and less procedural than it ought to be—its issues are fundamental—but it’s a decent episode. Caruso’s quite good most of the time, especially in his reactions (somewhere the script’s also strong). Even if some of his reactions are reactionary. And Joshua’s a very effective antagonist guest star, which is more important than him being good in an impossible—for numerous reasons—part.

Michael Hayes (1997) s01e05 – Act of Contrition

There are some really big obvious things to talk about with this episode of “Michael Hayes,” like the Catholic Church and the romanticization of terrorism, specifically the IRA, and how popular American entertainment portrayed both right up until mid-September 2001 for the terrorism and, I don’t know, the late 2010s for the Catholic Church. They still give the Church a pass but they at least pretend to acknowledge it being an international child rape cabal.

What’s interesting about Act of Contrition is the fine line it has to walk. David Caruso might be openly Irish Catholic, but he’s a U.S. Attorney first so when it turns out they need to break the confessional, he’s going to throw a bunch of valid points at priest Peter Onorati but it’s very clear Caruso’s bad for wanting the Church to help stop an Irish terrorist. The only people who agree with him are Protestants after all; the show handles the denominations mostly through implication, though Rebecca Rigg’s single salient contribution is to encourage Caruso to break the priest not the Church. There’s a scene where Church lawyer Robin Gammell confronts Caruso and for a second I thought it might actually be interesting but then it’s just Gammell shaming on him.

Caruso’s character arc—realizing, oh wait, maybe this Catholic Church thing is a problem, wait, maybe sincerely held religious beliefs aren’t a real thing, wait, it’s time to take my nephew to church—is… lackluster. Though maybe not in the nineties. “Michael Hayes” was CBS after all. But, yes, the juxtapose with all the Church stuff is nephew Jimmy Galeota prepping for his first communion—Caruso’s apparently so super Catholic he sequesters Galeota for his lessons (or Mary B. Ward wanted to audition for a better part in something else)—and some montages of pensive Caruso with Roman Catholic paraphernalia. Caruso’s good, but it’s all a trope.

There also seems to be some tension in the direction of the show. Demoted show creator John Romano shares the writing credit with Michael Harbert and seems to be trying to “right the wrongs” of Paul Haggis’s show running. Romano apparently really wants Caruso to have a romance with an investigator, introducing pointless but fetching FBI agent Kelly Rowan, who hangs on his every word while Caruso just tries to get out of the scene like it’s his last day on “NYPD Blue.” Caruso doesn’t even bother with the professionalism he exhibited in the pilot with now dead girlfriend Dina Meyer. Though the script’s so packed with one-liners and throwaway scenes, it’s no wonder he’s rushed.

Romano and Harbert also can’t get a good part going for Ruben Santiago-Hudson here either (because Rowan’s got his job) and he can’t hack it; it’s not Santiago-Hudson’s worst performance, but it’s not his best either and he’s now on a sharp downward trend.

Galeota’s cloying, that kind of child actor where they say cut and print when the kid can get through the dialogue, not act.

There’s also some male projection with Susan Traylor’s nun, who was always hot for Caruso’s bod when they were kids and is willing to talk horny as a nun so he knows it. It’s weird. And Caruso’s got no chemistry with her either, so it’s pointless too.

I’d really like to not dread Romano’s name in the writer credits, but I’m not sure he’ll ever give me reason to not.

Though it was cool to see Onorati and Caruso together, even if Onorati’s part is thin and Caruso’s is incomplete; both are quite good considering the constraints.