The Problem With “Justified”

No one wants to love FX’s “Justified” more than me; well, maybe that isn’t true, but I really want to love it a lot. I like Timothy Olyphant, he’s a talented guy who’s worked hard to earn the measure of exposure that he has…sort of like some kind of anti-Sam Worthington. And he’s a perfect fit for this leading role: he looks good in a cowboy hat, and he plays the straight-up lawman with convincing gusto. The basic idea behind the show is great, too: I love the notion of doing an antithesis to something like “The Shield,” where the good guys are bad, and the bad guys…are also bad. An old-school righteous cop flick is like a fresh drink of water in a long desert of hand-wringing moral relativism, and I say bring it on.

Problem is, the show’s not working. Oh it’s getting good ratings and what have you, but every time I watch it something feels wrong. And not little things like that horrible song they chose for the opening credits, something deeper. I’ve spent a good deal of time ruminating on this, and here’s what I offer as explanation:

1. Stakes. One of the first things you learn in a creative writing class is the concept of “stakes.” It’s been basic to good drama for as long as drama has existed. The idea is, you have an unconscious contract with your audience which assures them that whatever story you tell them, it must be of vital importance to the characters in it. Everything is superlatives: the obstacles must be the most terrible the protagonist has ever faced, and the goal must be their deepest desire. Even if a character just wants to be left alone, they must want that badly, and be willing to go to great lengths to have it, or you are boring your audience. At least 60% of the time, a movie will center on the most intense period of its characters’ lives; the moment which, if they were real people, they would always recall as the apex of strife and meaning. It’s just hard-wired into human nature to want these things from our entertainment.

“Justified” lacks stakes. The criminals that Raylan Givens pursues always want something badly, but he never does. The writers give him loads of back story: a remarried ex he seems conflicted about, a local girl he is forbidden to get involved with it might happen anyway, and a convict father he’s ashamed of. And yet for all of these plot points, none of them mean anything to us or go anywhere. The meat of any given episode is his cases, but he has no personal connection to any of them. They don’t test him, or reveal anything about him, he swaggers through them with detached amusement. We as the audience certainly like Raylan, but at this point he is more illustrative than dramatic: he exists as an idea, not a man on a journey.

2. Back-Up. There’s also the problem of Raylan’s solitude. His cohorts at the Kentucky Marshal’s Office are interchangeable and unremarkable, the writers have no idea how to make them flesh and blood people. In a cop procedural like this, it is incredibly hard to maintain protagonists who have something to lose, but one of the most reliable tricks of the trade is to give them a partner. “The X Files” could do pretty much whatever it wanted, because each case was a private argument of the highest possible importance between Mulder and Scully: is this science or something more? “Justified” leaves Raylan out in the cold, he has no one to relate to, and not a single character on the show (on either side of the law) comes close to interesting. His boss gives him tepid lectures and then inexplicably stays out of his way, which violates the number one rule of writing: “Don’t be boring.” How obvious is it that Raylan needs a boss who hates his guts? You’re doing a classic Western about a shoot-from-the-hip lawman here, and shoot-from-the-hip lawmen always need overwhelming antagonism on both sides. Don’t even get me started on the J. Crew catalog that is supposed to be his fellow FBI agents. Hollywood regularly shoots itself in the foot with casting decisions like these. You’re in the Kentucky field office, you need people who at least act a little more real.

3. Case Closed. The crimes Raylan investigates just…aren’t that interesting. Even he seems bored. I know it’s early yet to criticize that, but these cases form the bulk of each episode, so I’m well within my rights to demand that they hit the ground running. “House” would not freaking work if they couldn’t dream up the craziest illnesses you’ve ever heard of, no matter how much Hugh Laurie limped down the hallway. They get really good actors, and the dialog has punch, but you’re still riding a high-crested wave of “meh” right into the credits. I think the problem may be structure: most of the cases are crimes of passion, not intricate Rubicks Cubes that are fascinating to puzzle out. “Resolving” these things is never really that satisfying. “Justified” may claim some kind of authenticity here, but I could honestly use some suspension of disbelief in this department. Your number one obligation is to give me a gripping narrative, and right now you aren’t pulling that off.

4. The Song. That title song is terrible. I have to mention it again, it’s really that bad. I can’t understand a word of it, the melody is uninspired, and I have to wonder which genius just had to have a rap song headline a modern Western set in Kentucky. No, before you ask, it doesn’t make it better that he’s rapping to a slide guitar. Then some idiot comes in at the very end and sings for half a bar, but God only knows what he said; all I understood was “when you’re…” and I think even that is incorrect. Pick a different song, guys. “The Wire” brilliantly employed Tom Waits’ “Down in the Hole,” “CSI” struck gold with The Who’s “Who Are You,” you need to follow in this vein. Besides “The Fresh Prince of Bel Air,” rap songs do not normally make for good theme songs; people strain to hear the individual lyrics, get overwhelmed, and then can’t see the woods for the trees. Plus hip hop sounds really truncated in 15 seconds, you can’t introduce and develop lyrical ideas in that time frame.

“Justified” is a young show, and right now it’s popular but soulless. If things don’t change, people will stop watching, and many of them won’t even know why. It takes time for the average American to realize that the ad campaign isn’t being fulfilled, but once they notice, they’re gone. “Fringe” was in the exact same position: it got good numbers but it wasn’t going anywhere, yet somehow it got its act together and is now halfway decent. I hope “Justified” can do better and really become something special, but only time will tell. Right now, it’s only a seed, and it won’t be long before everyone has to admit the damned flower isn’t blooming.

1 Response to “The Problem With “Justified””


  • “An old-school righteous cop flick is like a fresh drink of water in a long desert of hand-wringing moral relativism, and I say bring it on.”
    Strong work, Rew.

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