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Bosch

A story is nothing without great characters; "Bosch" delivers a real story.

Why? There's Bosch himself. Struggling to raise a teenager (who is neither an angel nor irredeemably bratty). Wrestling with the death of his ex-wife, whom he still loves. Bending rules. Talking suicidal criminals off the ledge. Sitting silently in his cliff-side palace, studying Los Angeles. Finding himself forced to work with a lawyer who once tried to derail him. Ending romantic relationships in a clumsy way, because he is a man, and so he is, by definition, a little bit silly.

There's J. Edgar, who torpedoed his own marriage with his infidelity, but who now finds himself in a pseudo-marital arrangement with his ambivalent ex-wife. J. Edgar, who doesn't fully trust his professional partner (despite feeling a great deal of almost-fraternal love). J. Edgar, who can't give up his career, and who nevertheless realizes that that same career is sort of ruining his life.

And there's Eleanor, slightly unstable, supremely gifted at poker. Half-married to a guy who is now mysteriously in China. Lying to her daughter and to her ex-husband. Getting cell-phone footage, on the sly, of various shady dealings in smoky bars.

Because "Bosch" takes time and care with its characters, it doesn't feel like another banal police procedural. The writers seem determined to explore angles you wouldn't encounter in--e.g.--"Law and Order." (I imagine George Pelecanos has a good deal of influence on-set). When J. Edgar returns to work, there's a lengthy chapter about the way his desk has been defaced, and about the theft of his office chair. It's a quiet scene about petty office politics, about human failings and minor irritation, and it really rings true. (Right now, I'm contending with something similar that drives me insane on a regular basis: the theft of my workplace stapler.)

Which other crime show would spend so much time on a middle-class adolescent girl? Maddie is fascinating. The writers trace--with exquisite care--the story of Maddie's classmate, whose dad wants a pardon on a speeding ticket. Bosch, annoyed, says he'll look into the matter--and then he deliberately fails to keep his word. We see him worrying about the impact this will have on his daughter's popularity. We see the daughter pursuing the friendship, anyway, and we see some inevitable awkwardness: When Bosch comes to the friend's door, the speeding-ticket father answers: "Is this about how Maddie skipped school and asked my daughter to cover for her?" (We see the shock on Bosch's face.) "Or is this about the ticket you said you'd help with and then ignored?" (In "Bosch," as in life, the reason for the visit is far from what we'd think. Make God laugh: Tell Him your plans! ....Also, three cheers for the subtle moment when a classmate, at school, says, "Maddie, my mom died, too. She had cancer." That's the writers observing that there is some warmth in the world. It feels like a "true" observation. Well-done.)

I deeply admired the way "Bosch" handled Eleanor's death in the past season. Unlike other writers, the "Bosch" writers in no way prepare us for the murder. (Death does often come as a surprise.) It's a brutal, unsentimental, startling scene. Also, unlike, say, the director of the movie "Into the Woods," the "Bosch" writers really make us consider the fact that a death has occurred. Bosch holds the corpse in his arms. He gets blood all over his shirt--and the tactful workplace replacing of the shirt becomes its own plot point. (One thinks of Jackie Kennedy in Dallas.) A purloined cell phone adds further intrigue. And then there are great, magisterial, plausible interactions between Bosch and his grieving daughter: Bosch tells her, candidly, compassionately, that she will never actually "get over" the death. Bosch later tells her that a burial site doesn't really matter: Everywhere we walk is sacred ground. (Get out your tissues.)

And then there's the way Season Four ends: Bosch and his daughter empty Eleanor's ashes in the Grand Canyon. It's one of few times that the writers employ a soundtrack. As is so often *not* the case on TV, the strong emotions of this moment feel fully "earned."

There are entire hours of "Bosch" when I'm baffled. Subplots appear and then disappear: The mishandling of minor characters can become irritating. The entire baroque drama surrounding Bosch's dead mother feels like fifth-grade work. It puts me to sleep every time it resurfaces.

But there's so much I love in this show. (Don't get me started on the smart, lifelike handling of the "Brasher" romance in Season One.) The NYTimes recently wrote, in an admiring way, about the rabid following "Bosch" has quietly attracted--and you can count me among the converted. When I watch, I feel like I'm spending time with bright artists who have given some earnest thought to questions regarding what it means to be alive. They have smuggled insights into something that seems to be--on the surface--merely a "cop drama." These artists are good company; "Bosch" is a fine way to spend some of your time.

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