Just so there's no misunderstanding, before the opening credits even commence, we are clear that Lt. Kojak is a bad, bad man.
Picture this: We got a baddie in lockup, in the interrogation room, but he ain't giving up nothin'. He's insulting cops, he's making jokes, bada bing, bada boom. Meanwhile, Lt. Kojak, played by Ving Rhames, is on his way down. He swaggers so much, his shoulders go in and out of the camera frame. His sharp three-piece suit and animal hide shoes (ostrich? alligator?) are seen in silhouette. He's got a lollipop in his mouth.
Ving Rhames's lollipop-toting cop delivers his own kind of justice.
(Steve Wilkie -- USA Network)
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"You shoulda given it up, Freddy," the first two detectives lament, leaving the perp alone with Lt. Kojak, who removes the lollipop and sets it on the table. Freddy tries to play tough, but after Kojak does a couple of rounds of Russian roulette on his head, he's singing like Ethel Merman. Only then do we notice the lieutenant never chambered the Russian roulette bullet.
He's a bad dude, but you know, righteous.
And, as it turns out, a bit weepy for a New York cop who metes out his own brand of street justice. "Kojak" returns to television in a two-hour premiere tonight at 9 on the USA Network, and although the character is based on the tough, lollipop-licking cop made famous by Telly Savalas, Rhames brings more style, vernacular and a bunch of old glory lapel pins to the role.
In the original CBS series, which ran for five years beginning in 1978, Kojak was cynical, unglamorous and not above taking license with the letter of the law if it helped him make the collar. Like the original, this "Kojak" is set in the Manhattan South District. He's still cynical, but now he's slickly produced. With his former partner and now his boss, Capt. Frank McNeil, stylishly played by Academy Award-nominated Chazz Palminteri, Kojak takes a few knocks of the "What am I going to do with you, Kojak" variety for bending the rules. Still, McNeil has got his back.
The story opens with a dead hooker, the fifth dead hooker in 19 days, but apparently despite the late hours, these women were all very good mothers. In fact, the serial killer is targeting hooker-moms deliberately. Killing them in shocking and horrible ways. Kojak has to step on a few toes in another precinct, where, in these kinds of police dramas, there's always another lieutenant who doesn't like his rule-bending style and hotshot attitude, to get everybody else to see this.
At least for the first hour and a half, the story is well paced and chock-full of atmospherics. There are all sorts of cutaway shots with street scenes, tattoos and cool cats in hats. Unlike Savalas, who didn't seemed to have the music in him, this Kojak is a jazz man. As it turns out, he's full of hurt in his middle because his piano-playing daddy was gunned down 30 years ago. Kojak has been running the killer's prints once a month for years, making for a subplot that will undoubtedly weave in and out of future episodes.
He's also got himself a sweet mama. A fine young thing played by the lovely Roselyn Sanchez, who acts as an assistant district attorney and the lieutenant's flirt interest. It's not love yet, although we're clear it's heading that way. This is almost too much of a stretch, as Sanchez seems far too young and tender for Rhames. And too tiny. At times Rhames seems about ready to bust all out of his pinstriped suit, but hey, maybe it's just hard for a big man to get a good fit.
Throughout, we are reminded the precinct is not far from the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks. In addition to Kojak's lapel pin, there are wide shots of flags and jingoistic bumper stickers; a little Toby Keith content over stylized trumpet sets. And somebody tell me if Telly Savalas knew Jesus? Well, this Kojak crosses himself and sends thanks to heaven when he gets those nasty punks off the street. He's even got a soft touch for the kids, bringing toys and letting the children of one of the slain women fingerpaint his bald head.
It's all a bit crowded and overdone, but slyly entertaining. As a tough guy with an inviolate sense of his cop authority, Rhames is quite fun to watch -- fierce with his non-verbals. And non-verbals are very important when you're cool. Kojak nods his head and things go down, baby. The original "Kojak" had plenty of odes to the Sidney Lumet, "Serpico" style of filmmaking with a "Naked City" kind of rawness. There's less of that in this series, although the violence and naughty language try to take it there. Instead, we are often sidetracked by the idiosyncrasies of the man.
A couple of scenes where Kojak is crying, yes, crying, remind you of Rhames's 1998 non-acceptance of the Golden Globe award for his portrayal of a boxing promoter in "Don King: Only in America," where he let loose big crocodile tears, calling Jack Lemmon onstage to give the award to him.
The last half-hour or so, we've become weary of the subplots, the loaded symbolism of motherhood, country and how believing too much in our own righteousness makes us corrupt. By then, we're sorta ready to shed a few small tears that the premiere wasn't closer to an hour and a half. Still, even with a lot of obvious plot devices, this Kojak has a cast of characters that may make a new fave out of an old classic. Who loves you, baby? Too soon to tell, but we're kinda liking all your bald drama.
Kojak (two hours) premieres tonight at 9 on USA, before moving on April 3 to its regular one-hour time slot Sundays at 10 p.m.
