On Call Review: Less Fun Than Getting Arrested

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Although grittier crime dramas have dominated cable television and streaming services, various versions of “Law & Order” continue to stay relevant, having been on the air for decades and multiple seasons. Consistently, they manage to garner a large viewership weekly on CBS, yet their impact in online cultural discussions is minimal; one might easily think that the show had already been taken off the air years ago.

In today’s era of streaming, where long-running series that build on intricate storylines tend to be more popular, it’s challenging to recreate the weekly procedural format that switches cases per episode. However, creator Dick Wolf has attempted to modernize this approach for a newer audience, offering a grittier and edgier tone than traditional prime-time television. This series is designed with a younger demographic in mind, who are accustomed to darker, prestige dramas and frequent police cam footage on social media.

The initial season of “On Call,” a 30-minute drama based in the Long Beach Police Department, is somewhat disjointed in its narrative. Instead of providing a cohesive storyline, it alternates between two distinct plotlines: an ongoing investigation into a cop killer who murdered one of their finest officers in daylight, and various cases the officers encounter during their shifts. This structure prevents the show from being enjoyed as a traditional episodic police drama, as the continuous narrative detracts from its enjoyment, and the overreliance on stereotypes makes it unremarkable on its own.

Not a single original idea

Netflix recently announced they are encouraging scripted series writers to incorporate more explanatory dialogue, as this helps viewers following storylines while using their phones, a method often criticized and traditionally used in TV broadcasting. However, despite “On Call” adopting this questionable writing style for streaming platforms, you may still find yourself losing focus on the events unfolding.

In the first episode, I find myself in a chilling scenario where Officer Maria Delgado (Monica Raymond) is gunned down by the ominously named villain, Maniac (Ian Down). This shocking event sends ripples through the LBPD. Maria was once a protege of my mentor, Traci Harmon (Troian Bellisario), and as Traci grapples with her grief, she’s tasked with training a new partner, Alex Diaz (Brandon Larracuente). Initially, I have little patience for him. As is common in buddy cop dynamics, we eventually develop a less-than-reluctant respect for each other. However, others within the force question Traci’s loyalty, claiming she prioritizes her career over her colleagues and hinting at secrets surrounding her family history that only add to the intrigue about her possible hidden agendas.

This show attempts to set itself apart from Dick Wolf’s traditional TV productions by using grittier, dramatized bodycam footage, similar to David Ayer’s “End of Watch” style. However, unlike the movie, which I found had a compelling stylistic approach despite its formulaic narrative and stereotypical characters, “On Call” lacks engaging protagonists. Instead of offering unique personalities, both leads are strictly defined by their roles. The age-old tension between following rules and bending them is a common trope in cop dramas that has been extensively explored for decades. Unfortunately, the show doesn’t seem to offer anything fresh to make this familiar dynamic more palatable. The only notable peculiarity is the frequent, jarring mid-scene zooms, which disrupt the sense of realism and may leave viewers questioning if they accidentally activated motion smoothing.

Yes, it’s copaganda — but it has bigger problems

Similar to many police-themed TV shows, “On Call” can be perceived as pro-police propaganda, albeit in a less subtle manner. It lacks the necessary originality to entice potential recruits. The leads, who rose to fame in teen dramas of the past decade such as “Pretty Little Liars” and “13 Reasons Why,” seem disconnected from today’s younger demographic, a divide that becomes more apparent when generational conflicts are addressed within the storyline.

In the earlier episodes of the season, the writers attempt to present Alex with a moral dilemma: whether he should stick with his by-the-book mentor or follow the advice of the station’s sergeant (Eriq LaSalle, who also directs several episodes), and not be swayed by “woke” policing. This essentially translates to defending oneself against any violent suspect, a term often used euphemistically for the historical misdeeds of California’s police departments. The fact that an African American actor delivers this dialogue adds an odd twist to what appears as a defense of police brutality.

It would be intriguing if the show delved deeper into this issue, particularly from the perspective of a new recruit. However, the series seems to avoid engaging with this topic; it barely registers any impact, failing to create even a shock factor.

In other parts, the show doesn’t hide its conservative bias, which isn’t surprising given the political views of its creator. However, some of its frequent recurring themes felt unexpected in a police procedural genre. For instance, homeless encampments are portrayed with uniform contempt by both characters and the production team, and sex workers are treated with disdain that I thought had largely disappeared post-OnlyFans era. There are also more controversial scenes, such as one subplot where the main characters are called to a house where a man claims he was attacked by a burglar, but later admits it was a Grindr hookup for BDSM play while his wife was shopping. This scene is played off as a lighter moment compared to more serious, violent calls they handle, but the ending seemed less humorous, with one character telling the hookup to stay away from such vices – a remark that felt more homophobic than moralistic. It’s out of sync with current times if not for recent elections suggesting it might reflect the nation’s mood more accurately than we’d like to believe.

In essence, the fleeting instances of rigid moralizing from the conservative perspective are the sole intriguing aspects of this series. Plagued by tired tropes and lacking originality in its portrayal of the criminal underworld, it’s about as dull as a genre can be – despite each episode being just half an hour, they seem to stretch on endlessly.

“On Call” premieres on Amazon Prime on January 9. 

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2025-01-09 11:30