Walrus Comix TV Review:
ESPN's 'The Bronx is Burning'

Remember the halcyon days of yore when ESPN focused on only the most pertinent and riveting sports-related storylines of the day, such as tractor pulls and bowling championships?  Having effectively conquered the world of comprehensive sports coverage long ago, the four-letter network has evolved into a Disney-fueled monolith in which the notion of entertainment (as well as mass commercialism and cross marketing) has seemingly eclipsed whatever previous designs ESPN had on actual sports reporting. Sports have always been about entertainment value to some extent, and yet sports have always offered their various audiences something ESPN has yet to provide with its forays into dramatic “original programming”, namely a vicariously symbiotic relationship with the players and figures who take the stage on a regular basis in an effort to ultimately transcend the barriers between those on the field and those in the stands.

ESPN’s latest dramatic roll of the dice is Bronx is Burning. Based on the 2005 book Ladies and Gentlemen, The Bronx is Burning, the eight-part miniseries juxtaposes the testosterone-fueled soap opera that was the New York Yankees’ 1977 season with a number of tumultuous developments that encompassed the Big Apple at that time, among them the Son of Sam murders, the infamous summer blackout and subsequent rioting/looting, and a notoriously heated mayoral race. At the heart of the dysfunctional proceedings is the unholy trinity of Yankees owner George Steinbrenner (Oliver Platt), erstwhile skipper Billy Martin (John Turturro), and the self proclaimed “straw that stirs the drink”, Reggie Jackson (Daniel Sunjata, recently of Rescue Me). The ways these men interact with one another makes Sarah Jessica Parker’s crew from Sex and the City seem like a group of hardened ex-Marine alpha males by comparison. In a world where sports celebrities have increasingly become the punchlines of their own behavioral misdeeds, it should come as no shock that the locker room isn’t so much an inner sanctum as a place where grown men can freely celebrate the impetuosity and foolishness that goes hand in glove with the pursuit of a child’s game.  Still, the passive-aggressive buffoonery that passes for clubhouse and front office interaction in Bronx is Burning not only demystifies but damn near emasculates the cache of one of the greatest and most revered franchises in sports.

     Turturro actually does his part to enliven the series with an earnest portrayal of a man in Martin who was equal parts brilliant baseball strategist and shambolic Everyman full of inadequacies and plagued by insecurities. The fact that Billy Martin survived as long (or perhaps more appropriately as many times) as he did in the sports world’s ultimate fishbowl while partnered with two infamously gargantuan egos in Steinbrenner and Jackson is a fascinating socio/psychological conceit, and Turturro, once you get past the jarring Vulcan ears, expertly explores the depths hidden in the hollow eyes of a talented man who wants to be left to his own devices while trying to navigate the numerous vices that feed on his emotional turbulence. Martin was a fascinating figure in that he could seemingly unify the New York populace behind him even as his clubhouse teetered on the edge of oblivion, and Turturro keenly brings those contradictory aspects to the forefront. Unfortunately, the other two main cogs in Bronx is Burning, Steinbrenner and Jackson, don’t receive the same treatment. Platt’s portrayal of Steinbrenner seems at times to somehow be even more cartoonish than the Zeus-like voice and back of the head that Seinfeld offered, as Platt isn’t offered much in the way of idiosyncrasy via the dialogue to give you the idea that Steinbrenner has any other mode of operation other than bombast. Matching him in the sound and fury signifying nothing category is Sunjata’s depiction of Jackson. Whereas Turturro allows you to look into the eyes of an emotionally bereft man, Sunjata sports a seemingly omnipresent set of shades in amping up the aloofness factor of one of baseball’s most notorious egos. While the immensely talented Jackson did arguably turn self-aggrandizement into an art form during his stint in the Majors, there’s no hint of what enabled him to be one of baseball’s most clutch performers beyond that supreme self-confidence. Other notable Yankees featured in the series include Thurman Munson and Yogi Berra, with Erik Jensen’s portrayal of clubhouse leader and Martin-Steinbrenner go-between Munson coming the closest to matching Turturro’s performance in attention to detail.

While Bronx is Burning ostensibly remains about the clubhouse and front office travails of the Yankees during their 1977 pennant race, it effectively utilizes the other Big Apple developments of that summer that seemingly had a couple of boroughs ready to implode in ways that would make even A-Rod cringe. While Martin and company flounder and stew in the juices of their omnipresent frustration, local police forces try in vain to get the arms of the law around the Son of Sam killer and a city that begins to eat itself when no one is looking due to a blackout. The combination of stock footage and meticulously detailed depictions of late 70s NYC garb goes a long way toward lending the series a genuine feel for the tension that enveloped both the Yankees and the city at large. Ultimately, though, baseball is a game of nuance that occasionally offers the opportunity for a penultimate dramatic moment. Bronx is Burning all too often offers a manufactured form of the latter while eschewing the subtlety required to give such overtures their required depth.

-Brant Miles