REVIEW: ‘Show Me a Hero’ explores housing issues in Yonkers, NY
Show Me a Hero, the HBO miniseries from creator David Simon and director Paul Haggis, is a thoughtful, provocative retelling of a highly political and undoubtedly personal tale from Yonkers, N.Y. Following the many characters embroiled in a fight over public housing, the six-part series feels almost documentary-like, depicting personal acts of determination, discrimination and protest on a monumental level. Even though the story is relegated only to this city outside the Big Apple, Show Me a Hero, based on the book by Lisa Belkin, has profound parallels to communities across the United States. Yonkers may have been one of the first places to face the history of public housing head-on, but they would not to be the last.
Much of the action is focused on the politics of the mayor and council in Yonkers. Oscar Isaac plays Nick Wasicsko, a lawyer and former law-enforcement officer, who becomes one of the youngest mayors in the country. He jumps from council member to leader of Yonkers so quickly that everyone, including himself, seems surprised by the electoral results. Wasicsko likely takes down the powerful incumbent, Angelo Martinelli (Jim Belushi), because of the contentious future of Yonkers’ public housing plan.
Judge Leonard B. Sand (Bob Balaban), after much infighting in the court system, gives the city an ultimatum: They must construct new public housing in the white neighborhoods of town or face fines and possible imprisonment. Up until this landmark decision, the public housing was centered in one part of Yonkers, essentially segregating the African-American and Latino populations. When this question of class and race comes to a head in the council chambers, several white protestors make their voices heard, and this serves as the backdrop to Wasicsko’s shaky tenure in the mayoral seat.
After all appeals are exhausted, and the looming reality of fines, bankruptcy and jail sentences come into focus, the mayor decides to follow the law and begin the process of acceptance. This doesn’t sit well with Councilman Hank Spallone (Alfred Molina), who harnesses the power of the protests to his political advantage. There’s enough resistance to the measures, and calls for further appeals, that Yonkers finds itself at a tremendously fragile crossroads. They can adopt the new housing plan, which was engineered by Oscar Newman (Peter Riegert), or continue their ultimately indefensible stance in opposition. The latter choice would almost certainly bankrupt the city because of court-imposed fines and find a few of the resistant council members in jail.
The political actions of Show Me a Hero are quite interesting and make for some vividly powerful scenes, especially when the council meetings become intense with angry shouting from the public. One of the staunchest opponents is Mary Dorman (Catherine Keener), who believes the public housing decision is a bad idea because property values could be affected. She believes families should only move into certain sections of town if they can afford the mortgage or rent. She has a lot of backers, both among the public and on the council. Her showdown with the mayor is one of the most personal exchanges in the very public fight. Wasicsko throws her out of a council meeting after she says the mayor’s deceased father would be ashamed of his actions. Later, they talk on the phone, come to a little more of an understanding, and the mayor promises never to throw her out of a meeting again.
If Show Me a Hero only showcased the politics of the public-housing fight, it would have been a failure. However, Simon, his writing partner William F. Zorzi and Haggis smartly focus much of the time, especially in the later episodes, on the families who are yearning to leave the rundown public housing site on the other side of town and find a new future in a different neighborhood.
Natalie Paul plays Doreen Henderson, a young woman dealing with love, drugs and problems with her family back in New Jersey. Ilfenesh Hadera, in one of the strongest performances throughout the miniseries, struggles to take care of her children and doesn’t always know what’s the best environment to live in: Yonkers or the Dominican Republic with her other family members. Her storyline is one of the most emotionally effective parts of Show Me a Hero. LaTanya Richardson Jackson plays a character who is legally blind and resistant to change. She doesn’t like her current conditions, nor does the nurse who comes to visit, but she is openly fearful of living in the white section of town. The character makes one comment to a friend that she’s uncertain about moving to a place where she’s unwanted. Dominique Fishback plays a young mother whose partner finds himself in and out of jail. She wants a better life and sees much opportunity in the hopeful move across town.
These four women find their futures essentially determined by a lottery system to see which families have the chance to move into the new housing. These homes are not constructed like apartment buildings but rather townhouses with yard space.
There is a host of other supporting characters that provide interesting subplots. From Jon Bernthal’s lawyer for the NAACP to Carla Quevedo as Nay Noe, Wasicsko’s wife, to Winona Ryder as Council Member Vinni Restiano, Wasicsko’s best friend, the many characters are easy to follow and add several engaging layers to the TV miniseries.
In one of the behind-the-scenes discussions with Simon about the importance of telling this story, the producer makes the revealing comment that the miniseries doesn’t depict perfect heroes or perfect villains. For example, Wasicsko comes down in favor of the housing, but he seems to only move in that direction because of the politics involved. Similarly, Keener’s Mary Dorman role shifts her thinking, essentially doing a 180 from hating the idea of new public housing to welcoming her new neighbors. Within the time period, when so much discrimination and resistance are obvious, there are small glimmers of community starting to form.
The smaller scenes in Show Me a Hero have the most power. When Richardson Jackson’s character enters a restaurant for the first time on the white side of town, she decides to order her food to go, apparently feeling unwelcome and maybe even unsafe. Another scene finds Wasicsko talking to his deceased father in the cemetery, seeking help with life and politics.
The acting is effective and engrossing. Isaac, as the young mayor with great ambitions, is one of the most exciting new additions to the Hollywood landscape. The star of the Coen Brothers’ Inside Llewyn Davis has an uncanny ability, with his voice, posture and dedication to believability, of enlivening this central role with depth, hurt and anger. He’s not someone who is 100-percent likable; in fact, there are many decisions that will cause more than a furrowed brow. But Isaac plays him as a real creation, someone who, with the help of Maalox, needs to find some workable solution to an enormous struggle in the city he loves so much.
Another standout is Paul and her character of Doreen Henderson. Her character goes through so many changes, many of them troubling, as she waits for the decision on the new housing options. From dealing with substance abuse to strained relationships with her family, Doreen is someone in search of a second chance, even if she doesn’t quite realize it.
Haggis’ direction is consistent and palpable. With the help of the writing team, he smartly shifts the focus from character to character, weaving a rich fabric of story lines. The series was shot in Yonkers at the very locations that are discussed in the script, and the director is able to pull much inspiration from this authenticity. The film, which depicts events from 25 years ago, feels like an accurate representation of the time period, from the music selections to the look of the environment.
Show Me a Hero is a tough story of race and class to tell but one that needs to be told. This saga, based on real events and real people, has played out several times in communities throughout this country. Discrimination is a hurtful, horrible practice, and it needs to be discussed in miniseries like Show Me a Hero. It’s from learning about these historical stories that present-day neighborhoods can see the realities of the world and the inequity that’s still present. Even though the six episodes depict activism and change at work, Simon and company don’t treat the narrative as a call to action. They let the story speak for itself. They let each side display their arguments — through somber scenes of loss and hurt, through angered speeches and protests, through court orders and council decisions. They depict dramatized reality, which sometimes is far more educational than fiction.
By John Soltes / Publisher / John@HollywoodSoapbox.com
