‘Hill Street’ is no less arresting

However much the motley cops of “Hill Street Blues” heeded Sgt. Phil Esterhaus’ roll-call reminders -- “Hey, let’s be careful out there” -- the creators of the series ignored such cautions completely, bless their reckless hearts. By refusing to follow the rulebook, by tossing it out the window, they altered the course of prime-time TV entertainment and provided a blueprint for ensemble drama that is still being put to productive use today.

Doubt it? Spend a few hours with the DVD set of the first season of “Hill Street,” which arrived in stores Tuesday, coinciding with the 25th anniversary of the series’ January 1981 premiere on NBC. It’s as though the series’ creators had tried to make the ultimate TV series, as earthy and topical comically as “All in the Family,” as addictive as the then-in-vogue nighttime soaps such as “Dallas,” as dramatically ambitious as the best made-for-TV movies or even the revered “golden age” dramas from the 1950s.

Its characterizations remain vivid if, in some instances, broad. Its jokes still amuse. Its whipsaw juxtapositions of silliness and tragedy still shock. There is a notorious violent twist in the pilot episode that, even though I knew full well it was coming, still rattled me more than all the gore I’ve seen since “CSI: Crime Scene Investigation” began the blood-soaking of prime time. Nothing accentuates horror like a little humanism -- and vice versa.

To appreciate fully how radical “Hill Street Blues” was in 1981, and how strong its legacy remains, it helps to hark back to what police dramas had been like for the previous 30 years. The robotic cops of “Dragnet” had given way to the swaggering, bullet-headed Theo Kojak and the rumpled and deceptively dense Lt. Columbo, but not much else had changed. It’s no coincidence that “Police Squad!” -- a lampoon of TV cops that begat the “Naked Gun” movies -- arrived in prime time not long after “Hill Street.” The genre was as ripe for overhaul as it was for spoofing.

A situation comedy such as “Barney Miller” might highlight the oddball side of police life, and anthologies such as Joseph Wambaugh’s “Police Story” might remind viewers that cops aren’t choirboys. But at the time of “Hill Street’s” arrival, the focus in episodic dramas was on the work, the track-down, with little hint of what effect constant exposure to the ugly side of humanity might have on the mind and soul of the investigator. That was one of the TV-cop conventions that creators of “Hill Street Blues” stood on its head.

Steven Bochco and Michael Kozoll were veterans of Universal Studios’ cop-show mill. Their collective writing credits included episodes of “Kojak,” “Columbo,” “McCloud” and “Griff.” In 1976, they’d both worked on the mildly unconventional “Delvecchio,” starring Judd Hirsch as a police detective with, of all things, a law degree. Both had moved over to MTM Productions when, in 1979, NBC Entertainment President Brandon Tartikoff asked them to develop a new, urban cop show. They initially said no, but they warmed to the suggestion when they were told they could delve into the cops’ personal lives. Still, they agreed to write a pilot only if they could have free rein. NBC, in last place and with nothing to lose, conceded.

The actors cast, most of whom had been around the block a few times, knew from the script that “Hill Street Station,” as the project was originally called, was different.

“I’d done acres of crap,” said James B. Sikking, the veteran character actor who played Lt. Howard Hunter, the comically militaristic leader of the precinct’s Emergency Action Team (EAT), in a recent telephone interview. “This was special.”

The finished pilot, directed by Robert Butler in a style influenced by Robert Altman’s films and verite documentaries, particularly Susan and Alan Raymond’s “The Police Tapes,” impressed the actors even more. Charles Haid, who played boisterous officer Andy Renko, said by phone that he originally had signed on for a one-time appearance.

“And then Steven showed us the pilot, and I signed on. I saw the show, and I thought, ‘This is amazing.’ ”

In a commentary included in the DVD set, Bochco says what he and Kozoll aimed for “was a show that was true to the spirit of police work without getting hung up on the rules and regulations of it. No show had really ever done anything to dramatically illustrate the emotional consequences of police work. You had good guys and bad guys, and you caught the bad guys, and that was the end of it. And all this stuff that affected their personal lives happened the other six days of the week, when you weren’t watching. We just sort of turned that equation inside out. Every cop who came to work each morning brought his life with him.”

Thus, Det. Mick Belker (Bruce Weitz), an undercover cop with a guard-dog growl and a penchant for biting the lowlifes he collared, got calls from his meddling mom while filing reports.

Capt. Frank Furillo (Daniel J. Travanti) had to fend off his whining ex-wife while he managed whatever crises beset “the hill” on a given day.

Racial prejudices threatened the partnership of black patrolman Bobby Hill (Michael Warren) and his white car-mate Renko. Det. J.D. LaRue (Kiel Martin) took a bribe in a moment of weakness.

It was messy and chaotic inside the station house and out, reflecting not just an urban world far less neat than even “Naked City” had depicted on TV but also the styles of 1970s theatrical films such as “MASH,” “Serpico” and “Dog Day Afternoon.” “Hill Street” was darker and jumpier than any TV series that had come before it.

It was also more concentrated. Bochco and company recognized that many viewers had reached a level of television literacy that made traditional explanatory dialogue and establishing shots largely unnecessary, if not insulting. Its episodes had significantly more meaningful content than any show of its time. As Sikking put it, sounding for the world like his “Hill Street” character, “We did 148 hours, and there’s no bagel dough in it.”

There is nothing quite like “Hill Street” on the air now, largely because it was developed under unique circumstances. NBC was in a go-for-broke slump. The actors were given, by all accounts, room to improvise like they’d never had before (or since). They had nearly half a season in the can, and thus a style established, before the series finally went on the air.

And though it started slow -- it was, at the time, the lowest-rated dramatic series ever picked up for a second season -- and never had Nielsen numbers to match its critical reception and Emmy haul, its spirit and sense of style can be detected in shows that immediately aped it, notably “St. Elsewhere” and Bochco’s ensuing “L.A. Law,” and in just about every quality ensemble drama running today.

As Haid, now an award-winning TV director with credits including “Murder One” and “Criminal Minds” under his belt, noted, it’s not just that “Hill Street” made an impression. It’s that producers and directors who cut their teeth or raised their games doing “Hill Street” duty scattered like disciples throughout the TV landscape.

“It’s almost like the benchmark in television is pre-’Hill Street’ and after ‘Hill Street,’ ” he said.

This article originally appeared in Newsday, a Tribune company.