There was some surprise when the modestly rated “American Crime” earned a second season at ABC.
There was little surprise when the anthology series received a third season order. While ratings did not improve in season two, the television landscape greatly changed. “American Crime” delivered numbers comparable to those posted by broader, more overtly commercial series. Since keeping the critically acclaimed “American Crime” no longer came with a massive ratings sacrifice, the renewal was a no-brainer.
Season three begins Sunday night. Many of the standouts from the first two seasons, including Regina King and Felicity Huffman, are back for round three.
There is an immigration element to this year’s storyline, which obviously seems timely in the face of President Trump’s views and policies. The true intent of the narrative, however, is to uncover a more timeless set of truths about the human condition.
Critics were given the opportunity to screen Sunday’s premiere prior to the broadcast. Here are five observations:
It tackles the cruel realities associated with the American Dream
“This season takes place in Alamance County, North Carolina, and explores issues of forced labor, sex trafficking, immigration, socioeconomic divides, individual rights and how we are all a part of an economy that often prospers on economic oppression,” says ABC of season three.
The premiere introduces us to a variety of different scenarios and perspectives.
– Luis Salazar (Benito Martinez), an illegal Mexican immigrant searching for his son. His journey forces him to accept daunting work on a farm for little pay and even less autonomy.
– The family behind Hesby Farms, which is being undercut on price by farms who hire a greater quantity of illegal, sub-minimum wage employees. “If you can’t beat them, join them” seems to be the only option for survival.
– Isaac Castillo (Richard Cabral), a farm crew captain tasked with soliciting illegal workers. Along the way, he encounters Coy Henson (Connor Jessup), an American who is as desperate for work (and as vulnerable to exploitation) as the undocumented contingent).
– Various characters, including Shae Reese (Ana Mulvoy-Ten), that are essentially trapped in an underage prostitution ring.
– Kimara Walters (Regina King), a social worker who connects with members of the prostitution ring in the hope of getting them to testify. She also appears to have issues in her personal life; money seems tight, and she is struggling to have a baby.
Future episodes will introduce viewers to other notable characters, including the Coates family.
It retains the show’s methodical pace and frank, unsentimental tone
The season three premiere confirms that ABC is not merely supporting the idea of “American Crime.” It is committed to the specific show John Ridley created.
Sunday’s episode faithfully maintains the style established in the first two seasons. The pace has not been intensified, and the narrative has not been made sappier or broader-skewing. It is a show that methodically confronts harsh truths in a raw, honest manner.
ABC is clearly not banking on “American Crime” to reverse its Sunday night ratings fortune. Rather, it is banking on “American Crime” to deliver another genuinely human narrative with another compelling, nuanced, yet wholly unpolished and unexaggerated set of characters.
Based on the premiere, it is getting what it anticipated.
It addresses the complexity of morality
“American Crime” is neither entirely nihilistic nor immune to the hero-villain concept. It is willing to cast certain behaviors and events as wrong, and does position some characters as more inherently “good” than others.
What makes it such a special show, however, is its willingness to explore the complexity of the obvious, conventional moral code. It never goes as far as to ask viewers to embrace the blatantly wrong or cheer for the overtly villainous, but it does ask viewers to consider the context behind behavior. It asks them to recognize that a textbook, cartoonish sense of “evil” is not the only reason behavior diverges from standard morality. The split can sometimes be caused by very universal, very understandable, very human feelings, needs and desires.
“American Crime” applies a similarly nuanced view to victims. These individuals are not all inherently weak. Some, in fact, interpret victimhood as a sign of strength.
The premiere explores its worlds of crime from a variety of perspectives. It reveals the scenarios — from a lack of family love (or because of love for family), to addiction issues, to insufficient help from the system — that not only lead individuals into off-book farm work or prostitution but to accept and even embrace their roles. It illustrates the vicious economic circle that causes farm owners to solicit illegal, sub-minimum wage.
“American Crime” is not endorsing any of the illicit activity. It is not even asking viewers to empathize with the perpetrators. It is simply showcasing the very nuanced, very human realities of the situations.
The world is not a binary, black-and-white scenarios in which good behavior always yields more rewards than bad behavior. As long as that is the case, people will not behave in accordance with a binary, black-and-white moral code. Some people will commit atrocities — or oppress others — in pursuit of fortune. Others will accept atrocities and oppression as their best option for survival in a cruel, unforgiving world.
“American Crime” knows this dynamic exists. It knows viewers know the dynamic exists. And it explores whether it should — and whether it must.
It is not subtle, and that is okay
“American Crime” may possess a gritty, understated tone and style, but it is not a categorically subtle show.
The season three premiere hits viewers over the head with the parallel between the migrant workers who are being underpaid and overworked on farms and the underage runaways who are caught in the world of prostitution. Characters from the different worlds — one attempting to hire a new tomato picker, another aiming to bring a young girl into a prostitution ring — even use a nearly identical “recruiting” process.
The lack of subtlety extends to the technical side of “American Crime.” There is often a clear, conspicuous “meaning” associated with the direction and cinematography.
The premiere, for instance, spends several scenes fixated on Ana Mulvoy-Ten’s face as a means of overtly establishing how her character feels (and how she is perceived) throughout the rather harsh and intense journey.
As a credit to Mulvoy-Ten’s acting ability, some of the changes in facial expression, demeanor and appearance are actually quite subtle. The stylistic decision, however, is absolutely not.
That does not make it bad.
Absent a big, fancy, exaggerated storyline to manipulate the audience, the show is reliant on the emotion of the characters and tone of the environment to foster the connection. Using camera tricks to spotlight those emotions and tones ultimately enhances the resonance of the show.
On the surface, emphasizing the parallels between illegal migrant work and underage prostitution may seem like a cheap way to ensure viewers of a “connection” between the different stories. In fairness, there probably is some truth to that.
But the narrative tactic also serves a more valuable purpose: connecting viewers to the human element of the situations. “American Crime” is not a documentary about certain types of crime and societal tension. It is an exploration into the humans caught up in those worlds and conflicts. By revealing that similar behaviors, attitudes and circumstances can yield two very different worlds of crime, “American Crime” identifies humanity, its societies and its systems as drivers of the horror. That is a more important, more valuable, more meaningful statement – and thus a truer reason to watch “American Crime” – than any singular storyline.
The acting is predictably stellar
With “American Crime” regulars like Regina King, Felicity Huffman, Benito Martinez, Connor Jessup and Richard Cabral (as well as Timothy Hutton and Lili Taylor, although they do not appear in the premiere) returning for season three, viewers have every reason to believe the acting will be stellar.
The performances in the pilot hold up to that strong standard. Some of the key names are playing vastly different characters — the King and Huffman characters, for example, have markedly less bite than their season two characters — but all reprise their superb senses of nuance and authenticity.
By demonstrating such incredible awareness of and investment into their new characters, the regulars instantly immerse viewers in the new world and narrative. Viewers will obviously recognize actresses like King and Huffman, but they will not for a second see them as their characters from last season. They will immediately see them as the new characters, which is the best testament possible to the quality of the acting on the show.
While it is too early to say if the new faces will live up to the show’s high standard, the premiere offers cause for optimism.
Cherry Jones, Dallas Roberts and Janel Moloney fit right into the show’s dynamic. Ana Mulvoy-Ten proves incredibly impressive in the face of a tall order — acting almost entirely in close-up shots as the camera seeks minor changes in her facial expression. Sandra Oh and Tim DeKay do not have much to do in the premiere, but there is no reason to believe they will be anything less than solid on “American Crime.”
Season three of “American Crime” premieres at 10PM ET/PT on Sunday, March 12.
