Due South Pilot (S1E00)

   So, there was a bit of a delay in getting this out.  @otherguy and I were going to tackle the Pilot together, but her DVD shipment was delayed, so she asked me to put out my first draft.  She's going to handle Episode 2, then we'll alternate.  I hope you enjoy our adventures together!
Thank you kindly,
Neurozach
    1994 was a big year in television. NBC trotted out what would be its show horses for the following decade: “Friends” and “ER”, which collectively bookended Thursday nights, rendering all other networks irrelevant for three hours. FOX tried to introduce a black superhero to the masses with “M.A.N.T.I.S.”, a fat, resentful film critic with “The Critic”, and my favorite animated series, “The Tick”, “SPOOOOOON!”-ed its way into my heart. ABC’s “My So-Called Life” was too good for this world, but made an impact with its short, beautiful existence. And CBS tried to match NBC in the networks’ medical drama arms race with “Chicago Hope”, which couldn’t keep up over the long haul. It fared better with more family-friendly, “values”-inspiring fare like “Touched By An Angel”, which ran for ten seasons. It also premiered “Due South, a police dramedy co-produced with Canada’s CBC.

    Paul Gross, a Canadian actor known mainly then for his role in “Aspen Extreme” (a mediocre “Top Gun on a Mountain” movie, notable now for starring people integral to two of AVC’s most beloved shows: Gross, who would eventually act in “Slings & Arrows”, and Peter Berg, who would go on to create “Friday Night Lights”) stars as Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP, the kind of cop who isn’t by the book; he is the book. Armed with honesty, integrity, perseverance, unparalleled wilderness skills, a deaf wolf, one of the greatest uniforms in the modern world, and an empty revolver, he tracks his father’s killer from a drowned caribou-filled snowscape to the mean streets of Chicago. He is the kind of man who, at the dawn of the Rolling Suitcase Era, will walk past the escalators with a gunny sack and a down suitcase. Who will donate pemmican to feed the poor (“If you’re still hungry after you eat it, drink water; it will expand in the stomach.”), and loan $100 to a ratty-looking guy going the wrong way on a moving sidewalk to help pay for his daughter’s operation (“You’d give $100 to a perfect stranger?! You’re kidding!” “Son; I never kid about a child’s life.”). Whose Round Brown is his wallet, and will give so many taxis that he’s stood in line for to other people, that he ends up walking to the police precinct that’s handling his father’s case. Oh, and he’s impeccably dressed in his Service Order uniform the entire time. At that precinct, he encounters his future partner, the loud-mouthed, loud-dressed, kind of lousy-but-with-potential Detective Ray Vecchio, played with the braggadocio of someone that thinks they’re the smartest one in the room by David Marciano. After reprimanding Vecchio’s unprofessionalism, and saving him from an Internal Affairs sting, Fraser and Ray team up to find the perpetrator of the Pilot-opening murder of legendary RCMP Sergeant Robert Fraser.

    This is a lot of setup to get to an Odd Couple-meets-CHiP's pairing of the straight-laced Mountie and the slobby Chicago wiseguy cop. It would all be terribly boring, but for the twinkle in Gross’ eye, and that kickass wolf, Diefenbaker. Series creator Paul Haggis penned the Pilot script, which moves along at a fairly steady clip; the introductions of Bob Fraser, then his son, are quickly followed by a few efficiently paced investigative scenes, which lay out the groundwork for the episode’s finale. Clearly, the meat of the show is its concept, which is basically a moose out of water story, so little time is wasted in getting Fraser to the Canadian Consulate in Chicago.

    There are aspects here which definitely don’t work. For instance, every direct authority figure of both Fraser, and Vecchio, not to mention most of their co-workers, are portrayed as useless buffoons. Vecchio himself is introduced as a precinct-wide joke, and the wardrobe department doesn’t do him any favors, draping him in loud colors that make his personality seem like a healing balm in comparison. Fraser is depicted as not so much a man, but as a Legend-in-the-Making. Eschewing snowmobiles for dogsleds, capturing criminals in fifty below weather, he’s seen amongst his peers as a throwback, raised in tiny towns by librarian grandparents, while his father made a name for himself in the Force. Fraser's dedication to his service is personified in the amusing scenes where he is on Consulate Guard Duty, standing before the entrance at Parade Rest, unmoving in the face of any and all stimuli. Gawking children, Vecchio dumping exposition, even the guy who’s returning the $100 loan are unable to crack his stoneface. The Beefeaters at Buckingham Palace could take lessons.


    Off the clock is where the relationship between Fraser and Ray starts to gel, and, unfortunately, even in a double episode, it feels rushed. Vecchio goes from being dismissive, to resentful, to apologetic, to thankful, to inviting the strangely polite Canadian (“Oh; I thought he was sick!”) to an obnoxiously loud family dinner, to incredulous that this guy would pick a clump of mud up from the sidewalk and lick it, to taking a grenade for him. Fraser, on the other hand, never makes a false step (until that tripwire), professionally speaking.

    As stated earlier, the saving grace is Gross’ performance. For one thing, he’s a charismatic man. I just want to watch the guy work. I’m a sucker for the way that he blocks Ray’s entrance into an elevator to let another person board, then another, and another, until they’re climbing the stairs. The way he repeats himself when speaking to Diefenbaker, because the wolf’s a self-taught lip reader, but is a touch obstinate. How he busts down a door to a dive bar, and proceeds to disarm everyone in it with his calm, honest approach and oblivious confirmation of Ray’s identity as a police officer.


    Once the killer reveals himself, the case tumbles together very quickly, circling back to a defective dam in Canada. We’re subjected to a pair of chase scenes. The first, atop a stolen van in a hospital parking garage, is exciting and fresh. The second, involving dogsleds and snowmobiles, is awkwardly edited together, takes too long, and really doesn’t work that well. Fraser ends up exposing corrupt RCMP officials as responsible for covering up the dam, and hiring his father’s killer. Warned by his boss that other officers will resent him for turning in one of his own, Fraser heads back down to Chicago, to work at the Consulate, “until things die down”, and we’re off on a four-season journey.

NOTES:
Lest I be accused of sounding Dowd-ey, I want to state for the record that I have an abiding affection for this show.  I was at a Fry's Electronics, and saw the first two seasons in the point of purchase walk, and couldn't help but snap them up.
“Due South” had several recurring gags and character beats, many of which are introduced in the Pilot:
Fraser’s tracking skills, and willingness to lick gross stuff picked up from the ground
Fraser kicks down doors with elan
“It only takes an extra moment to be courteous, Ray. After you, ma’am. And you, sir. And you, ma’am…”
Half-remembered advice/proverbs from Fraser’s father
Ray’s wardrobe must continue to give David Marciano nightmares
DON'T BE ALARMED - The dog who plays Dieffenbaker in the Pilot is not the same dog who played Dieffenbaker in the first two seasons.  Beginning in the third, a new Dieffenbaker was brought on board.

For those who want to watch: