Florida, in the public imagination, is not like other states. Florida is a wild and lawless swamp, even parts of it are paved with high-rise buildings and manned by people in tailored suits. It’s alligators and strip clubs and old men in Speedos, and legends built on shenanigans so bizarre they could only be dreamed up by that most quintessentially American creature, the Florida man.
All of which makes the Sunshine State fertile ground for bizarre crime dramas, most recently ABC’s Tampa . R. J. Decker. The two-hour broadcast (44 minutes without commercials) sent to critics attempts to tap into this damp territory by sending its characters into breezy murder mysteries filled with bizarre details, with mildly entertaining results. However, there’s still not enough of the most important element to sell this medium long-term: a hero who actually looks like he belongs there.
R. J. Decker
Bottom line Too much sun, not enough scruff.
Broadcast date: 10 pm Tuesday, March 3
ejaculate: Scott Speedman, Bevin Breaux, Adelaide Clemens, Kevin Rankin, Jaina Lee Ortiz
creator: Rob Doherty’s film is based on the novel “Double Whammy” by Carl Hiaasen
This is not to say that RJ Decker, played by Scott Speedman, is an unlikable or unworthy hero. A former news photographer, he was found guilty within the first few minutes of the assault he committed Technically He commits. But he was in severe emotional distress, having just documented the crime scene of his murdered colleague. However, he swears it wasn’t as bad as the rich brat victim made it out to be. Yet he is held captive, cursed by the false but passionate testimony of the young man’s sister, Amy (Jaina Lee Ortiz).
Two years later, RJ finishes his prison term and reinvents himself as a private investigator — though he’s not successful enough to earn rent on his trailer, which is perched on the edge of a growing sinkhole. But when he stumbles upon a murder eerily similar to his co-worker’s, he throws himself into the pursuit of justice, with the reluctant help of his ex-wife, Kath (Adelaide Clemens), a congenial journalist; Her current wife, Mel (Bevin Brough), is a more suitable cop; and his femme fatale, Amy, who turns out to be a wealthy and well-connected lawyer.
The first episode suffers, as many first episodes do, from the heaviness of setting up all this exposition. She also struggles at first to find the right tone. The opening conversation about RJ’s love of Almond Joy candy bars is too nicely symbolic by half, while the subsequent monologue about his lingering trauma about documenting the crime scene of his murdered colleague feels a little too heavy-handed for the show’s sunny tone.
However, the series created by Rob Doherty (primary) Based on the novel Double hit By Carl Hiaasen It appears to have most of the ingredients required for powerful action. If Kath, Mel and Amy haven’t made strong impressions yet, their jobs and relationship statuses should provide enough drama for seasons to come.
The first show’s mystery feels too bleak and predictable, but the second episode is entertainingly twisty, starting with an illegal Venus flytrap operation (a plant that feels very Florida-y, even if it’s a plot point that it’s native to North Carolina) and through a men’s strip club called Manatease and a natural health company on its way to a satisfying resolution.
What R. J. Decker However, there is no convincing evidence. The RJ who appears in the writing is disaffected but irresistible, the kind who will try his ex-wife’s patience by begging for a place to crash when his trailer finally falls into the aforementioned hole, but also the kind who will tirelessly devote himself to exonerating an innocent man sentenced to prison. He’s a bit of a con man, but more than a do-gooder, he’s a knight in tattered armor and slippers.
On the other hand, the RJ we actually see is quite nice, but neither charming nor obnoxious enough to leave much of a mark. While it’s certainly possible that Speedman grows into this role as the season progresses (again, I’ve only watched two episodes), he seems both very sweaty and very clean at the same time at the beginning. That is to say, like a handsome TV actor trying hard to look dazed rather than a guy who naturally feels at home in this sandy, unnatural universe.
This doesn’t help matters either R. J. Decker It arrives relatively soon after another Hiaasen, Florida-based crime drama, Apple’s Bad monkeyleading to the inevitable and unflattering comparison between Speedman’s suave but unconvincing RJ and Vince Vaughn’s more devious Yancy.
For better or worse, though, it’s a perfect example of what can work in the end R. J. Decker But it is not now included in the offer itself. My favorite character in these first two chapters is Wish, RJ’s best friend and former cellmate. With his taste in funky vintage T-shirts (“Women’s Wilderness Club – Dillos Before Dudes,” “1996 Overstimulated Grown-Ups Running Club”) and a standing offer of free drinks to any patron who can show him a “Florida Man” headline and proof that he’s the “Florida Man” in question, the bar owner makes an instantly delightfully distinctive impression.
As played by Kevin Rankin, Wish is a criminally mischievous but poignantly earnest, ride-or-die boyfriend as a game to help a suspicious suspect (which makes more sense in context, sort of) as he delivers groceries to the pregnant girlfriend of a falsely accused man. Rankin manages to bring out the dirty-but-cute vibe that the rest of the series still strives to capture, and it seems a shame that he was relegated to a supporting player rather than a co-lead. RJ himself might be better off spending more time drinking beers with Wish at his bar, in the hopes that some of that secret sauce might rub off on him one day.
