Caffeys of “Brotherhood”

Journal archives

Thanks to DVDs from Netflix, I finally got around to watching “Brotherhood,” Showtime’s crime-and-politics (but I repeat myself) drama series filmed in Rhode Island.

I love it. It’s a work of art: beautifully shot, superbly acted, well-written, true to its subject, rich in gritty Rhode Island ambiance and detail. In its dark way, it is striking and gorgeous (and I’m not just talking about Annabeth Gish). It could have used a little bit of non-sardonic humor, perhaps, lightening its almost relentless bleakness. That may be why it never really took off, and was canceled after three seasons.

Still, any Rhode Islander will have a blast spotting all the locations, employed very realistically: Rhodes-on-the-Pawtuxet, the Biltmore, the Olneyville New York System hotdog emporium, the Stadium Theater in Woonsocket, the (former) Green Bar at the end of Westminster Street overlooking Route 10, Symposium Books, Prospect Terrace, and the true star of the series, the State House, a magnificent structure shot in tones of sepia and shadow to bring out the shabby dealings deep inside. The chain-link fences of three-story houses on Carpenter Street on Federal Hill are memorably battered. The lovely green lawns of the East Side, covered with garbage strewn by striking union workers, are those of Wayland Avenue.

Verisimilitude was everything. The actors reportedly studied Rhode Island accents on their iPods. Leading (real-life) politicians loaned the production realistic props — lobbyist badges, cuff links, chairs, pictures.

And, of course, in real life, our politicians were front and center in touting what a great thing “Brotherhood” was for Rhode Island.

“I’m pleased that Rhode Island continues to attract quality film and television projects like ‘Brotherhood,’ ” Governor Carcieri declared when the show picked up a second season. He called the decision to produce the series in Rhode Island “a tribute to our state and to the efforts of our state’s Film & Television Office.”

“We welcome them back to film more scenes in our House chamber and offices,” said House Speaker William Murphy.

Luring the show to Rhode Island did not come cheap. Over its three seasons, Rhode Island taxpayers shelled out $15.4 million in tax credits. But the show spent about $60 million on production right in the state, some of which surely helped local businesses and had a multiplier effect on the whole economy. The work was almost entirely done here — rather than extensively using a soundstage in Toronto for interiors, as originally planned.

Still, it’s hard to say exactly how much good the show did for Rhode Island economically and culturally.

Steven Feinberg, director of the Rhode Island Film & Television Office, notes that when he lived in Los Angeles, and he proudly told people he hailed from Rhode Island, many answered: “I love New York!” After “Brotherhood,” he contends, more people know that Rhode Island is an actual state.

But watching the series, I could not suppress the thought: This has to be the worst advertisement I’ve ever seen for Rhode Island. Did our solons really spend $15 million of our money telling the world that this is Rhode Island?

Anyone watching it — an exaggerated treatment of the state’s sleazy, parochial politics and organized crime, in fictional form — would have to conclude: I’m never moving my business to that place.

As Ed Bark, TV critic for the Dallas Morning News, told The Journal’s Andy Smith in 2006: “On ‘Brotherhood,’ Providence comes across as dank and unappealing. You think ‘Boy, what an ugly, unkempt city.’”

Not to worry, says Mr. Feinberg. The people who watch “Brotherhood” are smart enough to know that it’s purely fiction. (The city and state’s lovelier qualities have gotten widespread play in the national media, it is true.) Tax credits have generated the light as well as the dark, including such upbeat advertisements for Little Rhody as the children’s movie “Underdog.”

I would add that the state can hardly “censor” film projects, approving tax credits for only the most homogenized and Goody-Two-Shoes (and, surely, unsuccessful) productions.

It’s definitely fun to see Rhode Island’s striking architectural and socio-political features used a backdrop of a gripping drama series. And the affable Mr. Feinberg is an articulate champion for the state’s potential as a factory of the film industry, creating well-paying jobs that are especially precious in these times.

Still, if “Brotherhood” ever goes back into production, I can think of a good story line: Hoping to pal around with celebrities, the politicians back millions of dollars in tax credits for a TV series that plays up Rhode Island as sleazy, politically corrupt and crime-ridden.

On second thought, the viewers might never believe it.

Edward Achorn is The Journal’s deputy editorial-pages editor ( eachorn@projo.com).